[ON HOLD] Shadows of the Blessed | #Countryhumans AUOriginals

02: Things Can Change [Pt. 1]

Previously...

"Я не хочу драться. Если вы будете сотрудничать, нам не придется."
(I don't want to fight. If you cooperate, we won't have to.)

——————

The guard tensed as the figure's gaze rested upon him. She didn't run, neither did she move. Her mask was missing, making it possible to discern her features.

Four small stars ringed her left eye in a semicircle, complementing the hue of her eyes. They were a strange, sickly gold— similar to a viper's.

He felt a pang of recognition. The thief from the barracks.

But that wasn't all. Somehow, for some reason, it was as if he knew her, from some time long, long ago.

It was the same sensation he felt back in the barracks.

The figure continued to stay there, not doing a thing. It was clear she was calculating risks and possible options; fight or flight. Oddly, the latter didn't seem to be a prominent choice.

The guard felt confused; he didn't know what to think, especially after finding that strange resemblance of a memory lingering at the back of his head. But he knew that since he'd already made the bold decision of coming up here, he had to settle the issue.

It wouldn't be so simple; he should've known that beforehand. Based on their previous encounter, this one was different.

She wasn't just any thief. And she certainly didn't seem Uraslav.

The guard contemplated for a brief moment before switching his tongue; he spoke in English, the frontier language of all kingdoms.

"Whoever you are," he began, his voice tinged with a noticeable accent, "you should know that I am not here only to 'attend to my duties.'"

"I am here, because I see a difference."

The figure maintained her stoic, uncaring expression. She replied in monotone, "So you are saying I should thank you?"

Rainwater dripped from their hair. The wind stirred, distorted their view of one another. He continued on, "My orders were to give you two choices. One, to obey; the other, to disobey, and face the consequences."

"But I offer better options."

The air around them was a taut as a nocked bowstring.

"You do not have to steal to live." The guard sheathed his sword as he spoke.

"Things can change."

——————

The thief, if only by a bit, seemed moved by his words. She hesitated.

It is working.

Fwip—

A hawk-feather arrow lodged into the surface of the roof. It lingered there between them, like an impassable border.

Her glance passed from the lodged arrow to him in an unrestrained expression of pure distrust. Then, like a cornered viper, the figure lunged at him with a dagger that seemed to materialize out of thin air.

The guard dodged, grabbed her wrist, and threw her to the surface beneath him. The dagger fell out of her grasp.

One grief-stricken word escaped the figure's mouth.

"不— "

The blade skittered across the rooftop, somehow slowing to a stop and balancing on center near the wall of a protruding watchtower. She wrenched herself away before he could knock her unconscious.

The figure whirled around and launched towards him again, this time in a roundhouse kick.

With his arms, the guard blocked the blow, recoiling from the impact. He noticed her way of combat relied on speed and distance. With those two aspects, her relatively much smaller build became a major advantage.

Another arrow whizzed by, missing the figure's head by mere centimeters. And yet she continued to fight, pushing him back, all the way to the edge of the roof. The guard was only a few meters away from falling to his death.

"Стоп!!"
(Stop!!)

"Прекрати стрелять!" He hollered at the top of his lungs. The rain seemed to mute his voice; still, arrow after arrow flew by.
(Quit shooting!)

"Гребаный дебил," he growled. In the spur of the moment, he deflected several blows, moving forward each time. He managed to force the figure back, to the wall of the watchtower. She staggered low, huffing; adrenaline clearly failing her.
(Fucking moron—)

The guard pounced, shoving her into a chokehold against the wall. The figure struggled to breathe, writhing, but to no avail. Once under his grasp, it was nearly impossible to escape.

Golden serpentine eyes burned into his, filled with agony and rage. Her movements slackened; her struggling got weaker and weaker...

Until a horrid pain shot up the guard's arm, forcing him to let go. A dagger embedded deep in his flesh. His blood, trickling down crimson skin, mixed with the rain.

The figure gasped for air, stumbling and dizzy from the ordeal. Another arrow shot toward her. She dodged just in time—

—but didn't see the edge of the roof right behind her.

Then, her feet left the rooftop. And she fell.

——————

word count: 813
**bit rushed, maybe a little short ._.

好。今天就这样了。^ - ^

同志们下次见！

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