He dodged everything thrown at him.
The spear passed inches from his shoulder as he leaned away.
It swept past his knees as he stepped lightly over it.
It thrust toward his heart and found only empty space as he rotated his torso just enough.
Always inches away.
Never touching.
Never even close to touching!
And as he began to move, truly move, it felt like something he had not expected.
It felt like a dance!
Watching the Mana coursing over the skin of Uncle Adam became part of the rhythm. Each flare of blue power told him where the next attack would come from, gave him a heartbeat of warning that his body used to prepare its response.
Watching the flicker of ambient Mana in the surroundings became part of the melody. The swirling currents of power that filled this mountainside clearing moved with them, disturbed by their passage, creating patterns that were almost musical in their flow.
