Cecelia
I didn’t make it in time to catch the bandit as he fell to the ground. Xavier looked like he barely processed what had just happened before he was dead. Momentarily, of course, but for the time being, he was well and truly gone. That complicated things.
The summoned blade drew back from his chest, presumably towards the Marked that wielded it beyond the nearby trees. I couldn’t stay and fight. Without knowing whether it was only one Marked, or the both of them in tandem, it wasn’t worth the risk. I needed to get Xavier’s body out of here. The killing blow was deliberate to incapacitate the Deathless. They expected me to leave him and flee, it was the safest option. I aim to shatter expectations.
Up you get, bandit, I’ll collect your train fare later for the Sicaria Express.
I hoisted the Deathless onto my back, surprised at how little his limp body weighed. I noticed him already changing, but they must have been progressing quickly to already have begun hollowing his bones. If there was one thing I was an expert in, it was Deathless. I wanted to know every detail of my enemy.
Deathless had bird-like hollow bones to allow them terrifying speed and agility, without the concern for shattering bones upon receiving trauma. They healed quickly, and a Deathless wasn’t facing adequate prey if they were suffering broken bones and oozing cuts at some point in a fight.
I pulled him onto my back, with an arm over my left shoulder and a leg over my right. I held tight onto the Dahlia in my right hand, the device still extended into the sword form. I wanted to be able to protect myself once the Marked caught up to me, which I was certain of.
How far I’d fallen to end up risking my life for a Deathless a third day in a row. Unbelievable. Every time I watched the bandit transform, I fought the urge to unfurl my Dahlias into a blade and gut him then and there. I was ashamed of the instinct, but it was one I had honed to perfection over years. He was so different from the Deathless I’d put down in my lifetime. The way he would shrink and pull into himself the moment someone watched him eat, the shame he wore around his neck like barbs. There was so much more under his skin, that I could only catch rare glimpses at. I swear sometimes he thought so loudly you could almost hear his thoughts bleeding out through his ears.
I’d made a considerable amount of distance from the dead caritune, especially with the weight of another heaped onto my shoulders. It made me think of the grueling training that Ffenton would make me do each morning, how I could swear my shoulders still ached from the wooden pole that pressed into my skin. If ever there was a benefit to that training, it was now.
Fwhip
I ducked just in time to avoid a disc of holy light that sailed right over my head. The Marked would have to do a lot better than that to draw blood.
A trickle of blood streamed down the front of my chest from the body on top of my shoulders. Whoops. The near miss for me was likely not a near miss for Xavier’s corpse. Hope it didn’t do too much damage to him, not like I could stop to check.
“Nice hit on the dead body, bitch! You always go for the defenceless?”
No response, that was fine. I could hurl insults like a seasick sailor could hurl his grub, which was to say enough to piss everyone off.
I risked a glance behind me to see the Marked making aggressive strides towards me, vanishing each second only to reappear closer. I only had about 30 more seconds before he was on top of me. Still no sign of the other Marked.
It was time to make a decision. With my left hand, I slipped my hand into the bag swinging near my hip and rummaged around for a certain coin. Ever the reminder of my overpacking, I had to shuffle my hand around for some time before grabbing what I needed. Pulling the coin out of my bag, I crushed it in the palm of my hand. It was designed to break, and as such, did so with little resistance, the coin decayed into dust as if it experienced centuries of weathering in a single second.
Signal sent, hopefully I was close enough to the tent that Phern and Sebil could get to me before long. Until then, I had an eager dance partner behind me waiting for our turn on the stage.
This spot would have to do. I flung Xavier’s body from my shoulders onto the ground in front of me, sorrynotsorry, and planted my feet in the dirt. I had just enough time to shift the Dahlia in my right hand from the blade form into a shield to block the incoming drop kick from the Marked.
Feet vs steel, the winner might surprise you! The incredible momentum thrust into the shield threw the both of us back. I landed with a soft shuffle like I had just nearly botched an acrobatic maneuver. The Marked kicked off of the shield into a backflip, sticking the landing with a bow. Show off.
“Back for more so soon? I hope you don’t need to cheat like last time.”
“There are no cheaters in war. There are survivors, and the dead.”
“Ah, cornrows talks after all! Tell me, do you know how to tango?” He seems like one of those ‘any means necessary’ types. I’m calling it now.
“I’ve no reason to dance in war."
“Shame. I’m about to give you 10 reasons.”
My left hand wrapped around the circular smooth metal of my second Dahlia as it stretched into a long metal barbed whip. It was time for a rematch.
Cornrows moved first, flickering left, right, then left again as a summoned weapon coalesced and swung from the right. I ran forwards, slipping into a knee slide to limbo under the sword and his leg. Being momentarily positioned underneath the Marked allowed me to thrust my sword upwards, catching the back of his leg as it traveled past me.
Reason #1.
I rose back to a standing position as the Marked landed on the ground with an audible hiss of pain. I shifted my right Dahlia into a whip like the left and began a dance-like whirlwind of serrated steel. One foot in front of the other, I recited the familiar routine that Ffenton had seared into my mind with endless practice. He was harsh, but he was everything I needed him to be. The spinning tornado of laceration landed a firm swipe across Cornrows’ face.
Reason #2.
The Marked kicked off of the ground and vanished, reappearing closer to my right side. His tactics changed as I maintained my onslaught of whips. Five more conjured weapons appeared around me, making a total of 6 swords that all descended upon me from different angles. Shit. As dirt on earth I root my heart. I twisted backwards into a backbend to avoid a blade that sliced across where my neck had just been. As dirt on earth I root my heart. Another blade sailed by as I shifted into a handstand. As dirt on earth I root my heart. A glowing sword slashed towards my hands as I folded back over to a standing position from the handstand, using the momentum of my hands returning to my side to crack the whip towards the man, ripping a small chunk of skin off of his arm.
Reason #3.
In my lapse of attention upon landing a hit, one of the summon blades tasted tender flesh along my right arm. Fuck. Stay calm. Remember what he taught you. As dirt on earth I root my heart. Ffenton’s words grounded my nerves. I side-stepped another sword only to run into another, the bastard was sending two at a time now! Deciding to close the distance, I leapt into a dive to avoid twin blades sweeping towards my legs. I landed into a somersault, immediately launching into a bloody tango of metal whips that slashed his chest and wrapped around his right leg. With a gruesome tug, the whip untwisted from his leg, pulling skin and dropping him onto his back.
Reason #4,5 and 6.
Pushing my advantage, I shifted my two whips into two hook swords, adept for catching and holding on to a target. I closed the distance as he got back to his feet, only barely having enough time to dodge my first swing. He was not so lucky on the second swing however. My hook sword sunk into his left shoulder.
Reason #7.
Now that we were together, it was time to truly tango. I pulled the man to my right as I stepped to the left. He surprised me with a kick that I threw off course by pulling him with the blade in his shoulder. We were locked in a dance at lethal distances. I knew his magic could fry me in an instant, so I calmed my nerves and danced like there was no tomorrow. As dirt on earth I root my heart. Step, step, turn, now. The moment the Marked moved to attack I shifted the hook sword in his shoulder into a hammer, releasing my grip on him to duck underneath the glow disc that formed between us. I must not have moved fast enough as the disc sliced down my back as I attacked. My hook sword stabbed into his ankle, tripping him onto his back once more as the newly created hammer in my right hand came down into his chest.
Reason #8 and 9.
Now to end it. I raised the hammer into the air to bring it down once more, this time towards his head. With baffling speed, he conjured a golden spear in between the two of us as I swung. With no time to react, I felt the burning brightness of the spear sink into my stomach. Cornrows motioned his hand, sending the spear, and me with it, into a nearby tree. I coughed up blood, the sticky red substance sizzling as it dripped onto the spear inside of me. Shit. If I was going to die, I didn’t want it to be pinned to a tree like a wanted poster.
I knew this couldn’t be it. I still had so much to make up for. I couldn’t leave this Godsforsaken earth having done nothing but bring pain. Suddenly I felt like the same helpless girl I never wanted to be again.
“Cecelia! WHERE ARE YOU?!” I heard my mom’s desperate cries from the other room. I was paralyzed with fear in my own bedroom where she found me soon after. “Cecelia! We need to go, now!”
“Mommy, what’s going on?”
“A monster is in the village, sweetie, we need to leave.”
She grabbed my hand before I had time to speak. I remember barely staying upright as she pulled me through our house as fast as she could move. She pulled me through the hallway towards our front door. I saw my Dad at the door waving us over with a look of pure fear coating his face.
Dad was never scared. What was happening?
“CiCi, baby, it’s okay. Just stay calm. Once I opened this door, we’re going to run down the road as fast as we can, okay? I’ll carry you if you get tired.” My dad explained the plan to me so quickly I almost didn’t understand it. I gave a hesitant nod nonetheless.”
He carefully opened our door with a shaking hand until it had swung as far as it could. “Okay, let’s go-”
I saw my dad start to rise off of the ground. When I looked up at him to see how he was flying, I saw the long claw impaling his chest suspending him above our wooden floor. “D-dad?” I choked out with confusion as a dark figure came into view in the doorway of our house. It was a horrifying beast. Its razor sharp claws extended nearly a foot out from the tips of its fingers. A thin shadowy darkness veiled its features like it was ashamed of its own actions. Its eyes pulsed a hellish red above its glinting white arsenal of teeth.
I screamed as the beast grabbed my dad’s legs with its other hand, pulling the claw in his chest up through the rest of his body before a nauseating pile of gore fell to the floor.
“Cecelia, RUN!’
I could barely see through the tears streaming down my face as I turned and ran back into our house. I could hear the footsteps of my mother behind me as I ran to the safest place I could think of, my bedroom. It protected me from monsters and nightmares whenever I hid under my bed in the middle of the night, so it had to work now.
I got to my room, but before I could crawl under my bed, my mom pushed something in my hands.
“Cecelia, if I’m in trouble, throw this to me, and I’ll take care of it, okay baby? I’ll hide and-”
Shattering glass echoed from the kitchen.
“-shit, there’s no time, hide!”
I dropped to the floor to crawl underneath the bed. I hit my head on the planks underneath my bed as I crawled, letting go of the thing my mother had given to me. It was a small red cylinder with runic etchings covering every surface. I went to reach for it as the shadow monster stepped into the room. I pulled my hand back and pulled my knees into my chest as I laid on my side.
I saw as my mom moved towards the closet before being grabbed and thrown back into the opposite wall. A deafening crack hit my ears as my mother crumpled to the ground next to the bed. I watched in confusion as she scrambled backwards, but she wasn’t using her legs anymore. The creature splintered the wooden floor as it lumbered towards her, lowering itself onto all fours above my mom. I was paralyzed in fear. I saw her head turn to look under the bed. She was looking at me. No, she was reaching towards me? Why?
The small red cylinder was lying just underneath the bed, resting equidistant from her prone form and my cradled form. She desperately reached towards the cylinder as the creature closed in on top of her. I just needed to slide it to her. Come on, Cecelia, just reach out and grab it. Grab it! GRAB IT!!!
A claw dug into my mother’s stomach. She let out one last pained cry and stopped reaching for the cylinder. I hadn’t moved. I couldn’t stop gripping into my legs, paralyzed with fear. My eyes stayed locked on my mother’s blank expression. Second earlier, she looked desperate for my help, now it almost looked like an expression of betrayal rested on her still face.
“Too far spread, pull your feet in!” The crack of a wooden staff hit my leg, just above my ankle.”
“Ow! They are together!” I cried out defiantly.
The lumbering man glared at me indignantly, pulling back his bo staff once more before I adjusted my feet.
“Sorry.”
“Better. Relax, we’re done for today.”
Ffenton was not my father, he was not my godfather, hell, he wasn’t even someone I knew before the night he took me in. I found his hut after overhearing a rumor that he was one of the most talented teachers of mercenaries in the south of Kistram. I was a hypothermic child that stubbornly hiked up to his hut in the winter. He took me in only after it was obvious I would die out in the cold.
He was like no one I had ever met. If a soldier was a jagged rock, he was a goddamn sea urchin with how spikey and unfriendly his demeanor was. Every lesson he taught was enforced with the staff to correct any mistakes in my posture. I must have had callouses across every inch of my body during the years I lived with him.
Despite everything, he gave me the one thing no one else offered me. A chance at revenge.
“Sicaria, are you crying?”
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology. I want to know what’s wrong.”
“My feet hurt, I don’t want to do any of this anymore!”
Ffenton stared at me for a prolonged moment before his face softened into a smile.
“Stand. Let me teach you something.
“You said we were done! I don’t want to do any more!”
“This isn’t one of your lessons. Please stand, Sicaria.”
I stood reluctantly.
“You’re in an elevated state right now. When our emotions get the best of us, we become irrational and uncoordinated. The rational mind will always make better decisions in combat, so you will need to know how to preserve your serenity. Follow my lead. Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Feel the way that your feet connect you to the earth. Feel the dirt depress and shift to your whim. The earth is your center, Sicaria, you must learn to become one with it. Repeat after me. As dirt on earth I root my heart.”
“As dirt on earth I root my heart.”
“Good. Repeat.”
I was always told that your entire life flashes before you moments before death. Bullshit. That wasn't a life I watched; it was a series of mistakes I needed to correct. I wasn’t leaving this earth until I did. I called out to the Marked man.
“Looks like -hgh- I’m a little stuck here. Mind helping a lady down?”
“I’d think of some better words to die with.”
“I’ll workshop it if you -grgh- let me down.”
“Shame you had to face me again. I make sure to win, any means necessary.”
“Hah! What did I fuckin’ say? I totally -fuck- called that earlier! I knew you’d say it, hah, I still got it!”
“You lack the fear people have when dying.”
“That’s cuz I’m not dying today, cornrows.” I smirked, having stalled long enough for the approaching man to do his work. A bolt stuck into Cornrows’ back, sending an excruciating voltage through him. I took the opportunity to flip the hammer in my right hand into the throwing position, sending it hurling through the air into his head, knocking him out with a satisfying crack.”
“That’s Reason #10. Bitch.”