There were times when he wondered why he had ever allowed himself to get so out of shape. Even in the endless night that reigned over the world, lit only by gleaming trees and the returning moon there were no excuses good enough, no tasks so important that he couldn't give himself a good work-through. And that it was necessary he couldn't deny. What would have been an easy jog in better times was now turning into a hard race, through snow and over the rolling hills that made up the frozen meadow. Despite the cold his gray coat was soaked through with sweat. The pulse raced, his breath was heavy and the limbs felt like jelly, but even so Lace refused to stop.

It had been a wakeup call to see Sage return, fit and healthy and swelling with muscles and ability. The brief conversation between her, Madyrn and Maskan had stirred a longing in the former soldier, a need that clawed and ached within his body.

He wanted to fight again.

Not battle, not wage wars of blood and death that created victims. No, he simply wished for the rush of clashing bodies in the game known as combat. Clean, fair and honest, a trial of wills and skill where no one was a looser and winners gained only respect and the harsh nod of recognition from a fellow martial artist.

It would indeed be a trial, this time around. Lace had gotten dangerously out of shape recently. Not only had he remained still and inactive during his long hermitage in the forests of his home, he had focused on magic for so long now that both muscles and reflexes had begun to dwindle. Add to that the weakness of hunger that came with every winter - and particularly so this time around - and it was a mediocre fighter at best that threw his head back and allowed his challenge to anyone around ring across the region. The darkness certainly would add to his difficulties, he knew that from the many times he had stumbled during his jog. Snow, darkness, the confusing light from heaven and earth... And for once Fajira didn't seem interested in joining in, so he would have to do without her guidance and assistance.

Still, he couldn't help but look forward to it. A grin played upon the dark lips as light glittered merrily within gilded eyes. Again he let his voice ring out, eager to see who would come to test their strength against him. If anyone would...

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Words: 423

Open spar, Judged. 800 words, 3 posts each + closing defense. No magic or companions. Location, Thistle Meadow. Snow on the ground, it is dark with moonlight, there is a cluster of lamp trees not too far away. 48 hours response time.

Good luck!