Screw It, I'm Going Out to Find It!

Chapter XVI: Fight for What You Believe In

Ren drowned himself in his semblance, finding comfort in feeling numb. Nora's visage threatened to break through. She stared at him with an unreadable expression, holding her hammer loosely as if it were an off-hand thought. Would she let him explain himself? The logical part of him said she hadn't before.

Teal eyes bore down on him, piercing all the defense he had built up. Without a doubt, she knew. There was no easy way to miss the visual effects of his semblance leaving him. Then, after mulling it over long enough, he decided he would let her rough him up a bit first. He wouldn't let his comrades down, but he felt she deserved this much.

A cloud passed to reveal the sun, darkening the shadows under the half-built roof in a way that shrouded Nora. Two orbs of ice dared him to move, but he stayed still. Thus, Nora moved first. Her first step was light, but they grew in force as more followed. Magnhild reared back as Nora fell into a sprint. He could see her eyes close and her teeth grit, and he waited for the strike to come.

Nora had been waiting for this for far too long: a chance to knock some sense into Ren. She could feel a scream burn in her throat and she swung her hammer. It went flying. Launched from her grip, Magnhild was tossed far over Ren's head, quickly forgotten. Nora then launched herself at the boy, wrapping her arms around his neck and tackling him to the ground.

Severely taken off guard, Ren couldn't do anything to stop them from rolling together across the floor. When the momentum stopped, he laid there and let Nora hug him. He did not mention when he felt his shoulder grow wet.

A while after her tears stopped, Nora freed her captive, though they both stayed seated on the ground. "I really wish there had been puppies here," Nora muttered, "And you're going to make it up to me. Here!" Ren found a pink book thrust into his hands. Somehow, seeing a collage of kittens and weapons felt weirdly nostalgic for him. As he began to skim through the pages, it dawned on him what this was. The journal contained a series of the types of stories Nora liked to make up.

She scooted herself next to him. Her demand was absolute with no room to argue, "Read."

***

Cardin let out a roar, barreling in the direction of Sun. He tried feigning a left only to swing right, but it still wasn't fast enough. Sun ducked under and jabbed him in the side. Cardin's blocks became fewer and farther between as time went on. Executioner was longer and sturdier than this chunk of metal on a stick. If he tried to twist it around to clash with Sun's strike, there was a good chance there wouldn't even be contact.

Sun hopped safely away from him, finishing the action with a flip. If Cardin wasn't so determined to beat his ass, he might have run his mouth about the guy being cocky.

This wasn't getting him anywhere. Something needed to change — he needed to pull something out and fast. Sun's acrobatic skills made his swings almost seem primitive. His staff danced around Cardin's attacks and chiseled away at his aura. Not to mention he had failed to hit the guy even once. Executioner might have given him something of an edge, but this wasn't the time for 'what if's.

Cardin pressed the offense, trying to get closer. He wasn't sure if the guy's weapon had anything for closer range, but Sun was keeping him at a medium distance. That was also causing him to flounder. He could hardly block, his attacks weren't landing, and Sun was keeping him too far to even try in the first place.

Cardin watched the staff knock down his arm and strike his neck on the other side. Trying to plant his foot back to catch himself only got it swept from under him. Falling on his back, he felt a metallic rattle beneath him — the bag he had begun carrying. An idea popped into his head.

He pushed himself up and prepared a swing with his right hand while his left disappeared behind him. Sure enough, Sun side stepped and swung to counter. The staff did not meet its mark. Sun was surprised to see a second mace in Cardin's other hand. Disengaging, he watched his opponent cockily rolling his wrists.