Faded Scars Trilogy

Chapter ten: A Cold Wind Blows

Nightmare, Part Three

Luta 

“Stay with me Toma, stay with me,” I begged, tears springing to my eyes.  Toma nodded feebly. 

“Alright,” he choked, a small rivulet of blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.  Behind me, hurried footsteps heralded the presence of reinforcements and there was nothing else I could do for Toma.  Quickly wiping my eyes, I surveyed my opponents, a force of eight.

I should be able to handle that but I had already accumulated a fair number of injuries.  The men approached swiftly, their grim faces illuminated in the torchlight.  Only one face was not somber.  The man in the center was smiling a little, as if remembering something funny.  He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite recall his name.  Yuki.  That was it.  I began to panic at the thought of facing him a second time.  Once was more than enough for me.  I gritted my teeth, taking a defensive stance.  Once more would just have to do.

The first man to approach quickly fell to my blade, heightening my confidence ever so slightly.  The next three men, apparently not terribly bright, also fell unconscious before they could reach me, leaving three men, and Yuki.  Yuki hung back, letting his comrades lead.  Seeing me notice, he smiled and waved cheerfully.  I glared at him, very much reminded of a snake.  These last three men proved more of a challenge than their fellows, being faster of the sword and wit, lingering further out of my range.  I began to move even faster, frustrated.  One man fell.  I ducked, whirled, and struck.  Another man fell.  I circled and lunged.  The third man fell.  And right behind the man came the snake’s hidden strike. 

Yuki smiled pleasantly, cocking his head curiously as his blade passed through my stomach, ripping through the center and exiting just left of my spine.  Someone cried out, perhaps me.   Yuki pulled his blade free, shoving me with his free hand.  I staggered back in shock, clutching at the hole; unable to believe it was there.  But it was, the blood on my hands was proof enough.

I slammed into Mandisa’s door, slumping against it, finding it near impossible to breathe.  Pain flooded over me so intense I could hardly feel anything else.  I had dropped my sword just a foot or so away but could hardly bring myself to move. 

Yuki loomed over me, his cold hard eyes glinting, just like his sword, poised above me like a hawk before it dives.  But I had no time for fear, no time to regret what had been said, and more importantly, what hadn’t.  Yet there was time for pain.  There is always time for pain.  There was the pain of my defeat, my failure, and the pain in my heart for bringing Toma here and to lose him.  But shoving all other pain aside was the gaping hole in my torso.  It was so overwhelming it made all else seem insignificant. 

The pain washed over me, so unbearably hot it was cold.  Yes, that was the word, cold, a cold that was swiftly seeping through my body as surely as blood was pouring out of it.  I could only be dying.  I considered this a moment, the thought strange despite the many times I had contemplated it, often in the face of death itself.  I didn’t want to die.  Not yet, not here, not now.  My parents had not escaped; my job was not finished.  I glanced around, searching for something, anything.  It was then the sai skittered across the blood-slick floor, stopping beside me.  I took it in hand, taking a moment to recognize the precious thing in my hand, another second to realize who it was from.  I glanced briefly at Toma, but I couldn’t tell if he saw.  The sword hovering over me suddenly plunged downward, catching my death-dulled mind off-guard.  As if of its own accord, my hand shot up to intercept the blade.  With a loud screeching of metal, Yuki’s sword came to a halt, the tip ensnared in the sai, lingering a mere inch above my heart.  I let out a small rattling sigh of relief, fighting off death from inside and out.  I pushed hard against with my wavering remnants of strength but still the blade progressed toward my heart.  Unable to resist more than a few seconds longer, I quickly twisted my wrist over, wrenching the sword from Yuki’s hand, the tip making a shallow slash across my cheek as it flew.  I felt the warm blood roll down my face, mingling with my tears of pain.  Yuki’s sword soared through the air, clattering to the ground and skidding to a stop a yard or two away.  Mustering the last of my strength, I got to my feet and searched for my sword among the bodies, finding it in a small pool of blood around Toma.  I retrieved it, ignoring the blood saturated string, and glanced quickly at Toma who lie still on the floor.  I wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive.  Briefly I went over to him, placing the sai in his frigid hands, feeling obliged to give him at least that much.