Short Story: A Squire's Ambition

[Phlashblazer]

This is a short story heavily inspired by FFT, it randomly came across my head one night and I rushed through, made a rough draft, and submitted it on another forum.  A forum buddy was kind enough to send me a rewrite, and I was impressed.  I'd like to share it with you guys, first the rough draft in the quotes:

The clash of swords howled across the plains.

A towering man's silhouette soared between a young man and the sun. The man's shadow scornfully refused sight of his face at the lowly squire.

"Hold your tongue cur! Bastards like you should not even be holding knives let alone swords!," he snarled. The man pointed his sword towards the squire, his muscular tan figure kissed by the sun's glow. The sun was slowly setting to the east, yet the squire still could not catch a glimpse of the merciless shadow's face.

"Now come forth... nameless squire, or are you too occupied kissing the ground?," The man said with a smirk on his face. The squire slowly stood up, his eyes radiated with fire and his demeanor burning, itching to get into battle. He grasped his short sword's handle and tightened his buckler's grip. "Yaaahhhh!," he roared as he sprinted toward's the shadow, seeming to blaze faster with each step. The knight braced his long sword with both hands, pointing the sword readily at the squire. The squire leaped and slashed fiercely overhead. The knight maintained his poise, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The swords howled across the plains once again.

And the rewrite
Credit to PatientZero
The clash of swords howled across the plains.

The silhouette of a towering man soared between a young man and the sun, his face was a void of shadows, which seemed to scornfully refuse his identity to the lowly squire.

"Hold your tongue cur!" he snarled, "Bastards like you should not even be holding knives, let alone swords!"
He raised his blade towards his opponent, his muscular, tanned figure kissed by the suns glow, a sun which was now slowly retreating to the east.
And still the young squire could not catch a glimpse of the merciless shadow's face.

"Now come forth... nameless squire, or are you too occupied kissing the ground?" came the cutting remark through a smirk bathed in darkness.
The squire took to his feet, slowly, teeming with anticipation, his eyes ablaze with fury, itching for the inevitable battle.
With a firm hand he grasped at the handle of his short sword, and steadied his grip on his stalwart buckler.
He screamed fiercely as he sprinted towards the shadow of his adversary, closer and closer, faster and faster with each step he took.
The knight readied his long sword with powerfull hands, pointing the sword defiantly, unshaken by the savage mannerisms presented to him.
With all his might, the squire leapt and slashed fiercely overhead, but his target maintained his poise, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

The swords howled across the plains once again.