Defying Equilibrium: Book II

Chapter 11: Descendants of a legend

*Drawing is of Oscar this time. Let me know what you think in the comments!*

Marcella held a dagger in her right hand, and she was tapping it lazily against the side of her leg. She was getting bored. Bored and frustrated by the fact that she was getting no answers. But not even the boredom could overcome how intrigued she was by the blonde man. She wanted to know where his power came from, and why no matter how much she looked, she could not find a single trace of fear in him. There was no fear for his own life. Intriguing.

Ahmed gazed coolly into her eyes, giving nothing away. And her eyes met his with a critical gaze, as if trying to see into the inner workings of his mind. To understand him.

"You look a lot like him."

If Ahmed's remark surprised her, she didn't show it. "Like him, Swordsman? And who might you be referring to?"

He shrugged. "Just someone that I used to know. An old friend."

She laughed cruelly. "And are you expecting that to benefit your current situation?"

"Not at all. Just thought I'd say so. But answer me this," he said. "How did you know I was a Swordsman?"

A smirk appeared on her face, and she straightened. "You think I'm some kind of idiot? We confiscated your weapons as soon as we brought you here."

"I see. So you really are an idiot."

"How dare you!" She hissed. "Say that again and I will remove your head from its arrogant place atop your shoulders."

Ahmed chuckled. "You really do let your temper get the better of you. I shouldn't be surprised, really. Exactly the same as him."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine then. Explain, Swordsman, exactly how I am an idiot in your eyes. And give me a good story. I'm in the mood to be amused."

"Did you look at my sword before you stashed it away somewhere in this forsaken place? I mean did you really look at it?"

"Why should I have bothered? A sword is a sword, no matter which sheath it came from."

"Not mine."

She raised an eyebrow, not believing him. He was just wasting her time. He must be. People said strange things in this room, anything to beg for their lives to be spared. What was the point in thinking he would be any different?

"Okay then, Swordsman. I will humour you. What makes your sword different from the thousands of others in the hands of soldiers right now?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

He was baiting her. Trying to buy time. She knew it. At least, she thought she knew it, until she turned her eyes back to his. Using the magic that ran through her veins, she could sense his energy. The flow of power. And it was not the energy of a liar. Without another word, she left the room to do as he said.

"I knew she would," Ahmed muttered. "The curious type."

"Ahmed," Oscar began. "What's going on? What's your game? All you're succeeding in doing is pissing her off. And from the looks of her in a calm mood, I don't exactly want to see her in a rage. Are you trying to get us killed?" His words were accusatory, but more out of fear than anger.

He shook his head. "I'm going to need you to trust me this time, Oscar."

"And why should I?" Oscar retorted. "The last time I trusted you and your plan to lead us here, and now look at us! Defenseless, chained to a wall and about to–" He was about to say die, but cut himself off.