Stories of the Blade: THE TURN (Part I)

A serialized dark fantasy short story

Why is he doing this?

Aryuna crashed her sword into the Blade, barely stopping it in front of her pounding temple. She grit her teeth while resisting the Blade’s downward force, every muscle in her arms, back, and abdomen tightening. The Blade would have her in moments, now. Aryuna shifted her weight, and dodged right, forcing space between her and the Blade.

“Sanru!”

She barely had time to utter his name before the Blade struck out again, a rush of pale blue screaming towards her, searching for her carotid. She veered right, escaping a fatal incision, and stood across from Sanru with her sword raised. For a moment, she seized upon his eyes.

Blue. Cold. The usual sparkle was dead.

Twenty paces earlier, she was following his tall, muscular frame through the Dark Forest’s persistent fog, the Blade casting a faint aura around him. He looked to the right and paused suddenly, furrowing his thin eyebrows and placing his large hand on the Blade’s grip. Through the mist, Aryuna spotted a Scarlet Tanager hopping through the long and twisted branches, moving upwards. Not a deadly threat.

A heavy, cold gust of wind shot through the thicket as they resumed walking, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breathe. The early Autumn air was crisp. She relished the last rays of the setting sun that gently warmed her back.

The low hum of the forest; a mix of birds, grasshoppers, and rodents, hurriedly finishing errands by the waning daylight. Footsteps added to the melody, boots cracking the dry leaves, shattered twigs, and leaving marks in the soggy earth. She stood still. Tranquility. And then, he turned.

Aryuna’s mind snapped back to the Blade, still pointed in her direction. Its glow seemed brighter, now.

“Sanru, stop! Are you sick?”

She had hesitated to strike, but that was an error. In a smooth and effortless motion he lunged, directing the Blade at her midsection.

She anticipated the move, and easily jumped aside, this time putting in more distance between them. But something felt different when she landed. Her mind was suddenly shrieking – blasting urgent messages in all directions.

Blood.

She looked down, but only for a moment before she raised her eyes to face him, and tightly clenched the grip of her sword. The Blade had kissed her abdomen, its tender graze easily penetrating through her light armor.

Silently, Sanru sprung at her again. This time, though, Aryuna’s ferocious instinct took over.

There!

He put too much weight on his front foot, overzealous in his attempt to finish cleaving her in half, she thought. She rushed toward the Blade, screaming as as she swiped her sword diagonally.

A surprised cry burst out of him, and the heavy crash of the Blade thundered through the darkening forest. Her trained mind was in full control now, and the enemy’s wrist was injured. No time to stop. No time for mercy.

He raised his arm, but it was too late. She smashed her closed fist into his jaw, knocking him to the ground. She kicked his face with her boot before he could recover.

As he turned over, Aryuna stepped on his chest, pointed her sword at his throat, and began to dig into his neck. She broke the first thin layer of skin, releasing a slim trickle of crimson.

Her whole body trembled as she looked down on him. She restrained herself from cutting deeper, but didn’t release the pressure. Beads of sweat rolled her down her back, and coated her sides.

Her sword felt heavier with every short breathe. She desperately hoped to see something recognizable in his face. The one who had saved her, over and over again.

Nothing. No fear, concern, or anger, even. Clear blue eyes were firmly trained on her. Silent. Waiting.

A Crowe’s insignia?

She noticed a dark, blood encrusted Hex above his right ear. Her heart sank, and shoulder muscles relaxed. She understood now. He would never stop – couldn’t even if he tried.

Even if she pleaded with him. Even if she reminded him of the Red Cliffs.

An avalanche of footsteps were rushing towards them now, thundering just beyond the brush. She looked up and eased the weight on his throat. Her abdomen was throbbing incessantly now.

She momentarily forgot that the Contingent always travelled with the High King’s two finest warriors. They must have heard the Blade, she thought. It was emanating a soft blue glow from the ground, just out of Sanru’s reach.

Her mind began to race as she realized a dozen of the King’s fiercest soldiers would be upon them soon. She looked down at Sanru. He was starting to squirm.

What do I do with him now? . . .    

* * *

This is Part 1 of an ongoing dark fantasy serial.

Read Part II here!

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