To summon a blade

Aura frantically Wove her longsword into existence, summoning it from it's resting place within the Weave. It didn't appear in time. In truth, it never did, Aura had never liked summoning it before a fight, lest it burn her too fast. She jumped back, barely avoiding the swing of the armored man's blade. A small thump hit the inside of her body, echoing throughout her limbs with a small shiver. The first of three pulses of the Weave wave-like rythm. The second washed over her much quicker, as the man brought the blade up and around to bring down on Aura's skull, who, for the moment, seemed to be weaponless. Instead of dodging, Aura dropped onto one knee, giving the Weave just a moment longer, and brought her empty swordhand up, and hoped it was enough. A third wave of energy washed through her body, making her icy skin feel almost warm for just a moment. Her hand immediately grasped the leather-bound hilt of her steel longsword, which dug into the base of her hand, sending a shock up through her arm as the enemy warrior's blade crashed into her's.

Aura stood, shifting her longsword into both hands, and falling into stance. In front of her the man swore, stepped back, and fell into stance. His stance was the exact same eveyone else in his army fought with, all trained in one that neither excelled nor lacked in offense or defense. It was a good stance, but, eventually, you learn to deal with it if you fight it enough. And her stance was unfamiar to him, a shift in his footing showing his uncertainty. She didn't blame him. Not many even knew what a Spellblade's stance looked like anymore, let alone how to fight one.

Aura stepped forward, swinging across, low to high, aiming for the side of the man's breastplace. He parried the blow well enough, sending Aura's blade wide. She used the opportunity to step in and kick. The man didn't fall, but he did step back. Aura brought her sword back, keeping what momentum it had retained from the last strike, and lazily swung at his right side with one hand, letting the man parry it. With her blade pulled from the Weave, Aura felt each pulse of the Weave's rythm wash over her, an unsteady, chaotic rythm, but one that beat with her now, each beat guiding Aura's steps and strikes as she fell into the rythm. With her open hand, and her mind now attuned to the rythm, she wove out one of her daggers, timing it so the first pulse would be nearly instantly after she finished. By the time Aura stroke again, this time a slash across the breastplate, which landed, the second rythm had pulsed. The man didn't parry that blow, instead trusting his armor and swinging into Aura's clavical. She raised her empty offhand to her shoulder, and stepped into the strike. The dagger appeared in her hand as her step landed. Aura cursed, the blade still sending her dagger's blunt side into her shoulder. It wouldn't cut--or kill--but it would leave a bruise. She stepped in again, getting close enough a longsword might be too unweildy to use effectively, and used the man's time spent recovering from his own swing to bash her blade into the man's breastplate, denting it slightly. Unable to Weave properly without an open hand, Aura dropped her longsword, letting it unravel, and wove a series of runes out of the weave, and realeased them onto her dagger's blade.

She had to dodge two swings in the time between pulses, though those had been easy enough, single step adjustments guided by the rythm to stay out of the strike's path. On the third step, her insides flared to life, burning lightly from within, like that of a candle. Gods, how she missed the fire inside. Ice coalesced around her dagger, extending the point and coating its length with jagged shards. She circled to the side and stabbed with both hands into the dent within the man's chestplate. The ice on the dagger's point, upon contact with the chestplate, froze the metal immediately surrounding itself, nearly instantly. The dagger shattered the frozen metal, and dug into gambeson beneath, which prevented the dagger from drawing more than a little blood. It did not, however, prevent the rest of the ice from exploding off the dagger with a sharp crack, sending splinters of ice into the mans body. He cursed in pain and stumbled back slightly, raising his sword to strike Aura again. She lunged forward with an empty hand, sidestepping the strike, and placed and empty hand to the hole in the man's breastplate. Before he could react, her sword appeared in the hand to his chest, leaving him dead.