Don stood on the edge of the precipice, staring down into the abyss of fire and brimstone as it bubbled and rolled. His stomach churned a bit at the sight, but his footing remained firm and his hand gripped the sword with all his might. It hummed and vibrated with his touch, singing some ancient tune that soaked into his flesh, encased his bones and fed a direct line of bravery into his soul. He’d never felt so alive, so sure, so powerful.
“End of the line, Donnie!” Travis had to shout over the steamy toiling of the lava below, and the clashing rings of battle in the distance. “This is where you drop the bat …” a sneer and brief chuckle. “The sword.”
With a upward nod of his head, Don slowly traced an arc near his feet as he adjusted his stance, just like he’d been taught. “Well, let’s finish it then.” It wasn’t the stuff of history books or epic novels, but it was what crossed his mind as he decided not to wait for his nemesis to push him into the pit. He launched forward, sword held slightly back and down behind him. His left foot found a small arch in the rocky ground and he launched himself from it, up and at Travis’ surprised and equally battered form.
Building on this scene, which was the first thing that popped into my head one night. The reference to the “drop the bat” line would be explained earlier in the story, of course. Might expand on this later if I can piece together how they got there 🙂