Fallen (Undergoing editing)

Chapter ten:

I staggered atop the uneven ground, fighting to keep a firm steady grip on my sword and my defense, but I couldn't deny the exhaustion that chipped away at me like old paint. In front of me, the traitor danced almost victoriously without any fatigue.  

          "Are we done yet?" the traitor cooed playfully as he flitted like a fly around me, poking me in the rib with the end of his sword.

I growled and slashed at him, but he'd danced away again out of reach. It was hopeless. His strength outdid mine by years of high class training. I couldn't even get the end of my blade to touch his cloak that flowed tauntingly out around him, missing by inches. The cut above my eyebrow stung and my wings bled, patches of where his blade marked me left the area featherless and raw.

        

  I was losing.

          And he would kill me.

          Falcon's death couldn't have been more in vain.

I groaned and gathering all the strength I could muster, I charged at him again. I drew my sword down hard against his, wincing as the sparks cascaded down on us like rain. With ease, he deflected my blow and kicked me hard in the chest with his boot, knocking all the wind out of my lungs and flicked my sword out of my grip, tossing it in the sand just out of my reach.

          With a grunt, I landed against the sand on my back, too weak to move, and too weak to win. I sucked in ragged gasps of air, feeling the salty air whizz around me like a boo of a crowd. I rolled over to my side and saw the faint glitter of my sword. I reached out for it, but stopped short as the traitor's boot came down hard over my wrist, crunching down on bone. I whimpered softly and recoiled as he leaned down, shoving his pale rat-like face inches away from mine.

          "Face it, girl. You've lost."

I stared madly up at him, unable to say anything.

He bent down to retrieve my sword and tucked it in his side holster with a grin. "Now, I'll just hold on to his for safe keeping so you don't try and kill me again."

I hiccupped, pain shooting through my wrist as he lifted his foot from my arm.

          I lied there, so weak, so open, so shameful. I was a disgrace. I'd failed Falcon, even more, my people. I could only image Enrique. He was right. I wasn't doing this for Falcon or for Avon. I didn't even know who I was doing it for. I'd just followed the end of my sword, and now to my death.

          "So, do it already, get it over with," I spat up at him.

He turned and looked down to me almost amusingly. "Do what? Kill you?" he threw his head back and let out a dry cackle. "You really believed I was going to kill you?"

I glared up at him because I didn't think I had the strength to gawk.