From her side view came the female. Irti turned quickly mid air to confront the angry Ahriman. She saw the other woman brandishing a bronze sword. Reaching behind her back, she pulled the sword she had in a sheath strapped between her wings. She parried the first blow the woman did, and then she recognized her. “Peri, you don’t have to fight,” Irti shouted out over the wind that had picked up from behind her.
A snarl came to the other woman’s lips. Then, her white wings opened to their full eleven and a half foot length. Irti knew then she needed to gain altitude because the woman was about to ram herself and the sword into Irti.
Irti bolted up. She parried another blow. The swords clashed as both of the winged women climbed and climbed, striving for height. They were a match in strength.
Peri, the younger of the two, tried with all her might to out maneuver and out speed her older, more experienced opponent. Irti watched her flapping her wings almost too quickly, leaving trails of air swirling from the desperately beating feathers. Irti leaned backwards, opening space between herself and her foe, letting the younger woman tire herself.
Irti heard her snarl in triumph, and saw her foe aggressively climb, now her foe was just above her, and again they dueled with swords. Irti spun in the air, allowing a leg to spin toward her surprised foe. It connected with her foe’s womb, bringing a cry of pain and rage. But the unexpected maneuver cost Irti altitude.
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