The steel flashed in the sun as Zach whirled it around his head. The gold on the handle sparked as the light hit it. The golden sun made the metal appear gold and inpenetrable. He was in a whirlwind of movement. His thoughts were blank, like a smooth river stone, sanded by the current's constant flow over its surface. Beads of sweat ran down his face and chest. The bright red tatoo of a flame shone wild in the sun. He was barefoot and his feet were darkened by the dirt below him. A thorn had wedged itself between two toes but he didn't not notice. Crack! Crack! Carck! Three broken arrows lay at his feet. The feathers were black with brown edges. A smile played across his lips as he let go of his stone. The sword had frozen in his hands, raised above his head.