Veil of Shadows

Chapter 55. Flying Lamps

Notch smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "If this is the limit of your fighting capabilities, then your death is guaranteed. You're just like every other warrior who thought they could defeat me. You're no surprise."

Shadow tilted his head slightly to the side. "If that is so, then perhaps I should tell you a little secret."

"And what would that be?" Notch asked mockingly.

Within the space of a few seconds, Shadow's sword had flipped through the air, from his left hand to his right hand, and was pointed at Notch. Now Shadow was the one with a faint smile on his face.

"I'm not left handed."

Notch's smile faded and turned into a glare. "Impressive." He admitted. "But you'll have to do a lot better than that. I'll give you one chance to stand down. Accept, and I will let you leave this castle unharmed. Decline my offer, and you die."

Shadow kept his sword raised. "I will leave this castle only when one of us is the victor. No more talk, no more bargaining. Ready your weapon and fight, coward."

Eyes darkening considerably, Notch growled "You are a fool for not seeing reason. Now you will pay with your life." And he attacked.

At first, Shadow met each strike with ease, blocking or deflecting each and every hit. The clang of steel meeting steel was a constant sound as blades flashed, glinting in the torchlight.

Drawing on his Ender power, Shadow remained strong and swift enough that he sustained only small injuries - cuts on his hands and arms that were more a nuisance than anything else. But he couldn't keep up this pace for much longer.

He breathed deeply, every sense kicking into overdrive. This was the part Shadow loved best about fighting - that moment when the world fades away and nothing exists except for you and your opponent, when you can feel the weapon in your hand as if it were a part of you.

Then, after a few minutes of thinking that he might actually have a chance at winning, Shadow faltered.

His reflexes failed him, unable to stay sharply accurate any longer. Notch threw all his strength into one blow - and Shadow's sword was knocked clear out of his hand, spinning in the air until it collided with the wall and clattered to the ground.

Shadow was hit by disappointment in himself, hard and real and as painful as if he had been hit in the face by a brick.

"Do you give up now, Ender Prince?" Notch drawled, resting the point of his sword on the ground.

"No." He said quietly. "If an enemy is before me, even if it costs me an arm and a leg, I will fight."

With a breathy laugh, Notch hefted his sword once more. "You're an acceptable fighter - it's almost a shame to have to kill you."

Shadow lunged, lashing out with a fist, aiming for Notch's jaw. His enemy's sword flipped up, diverting his punch and scoring a deep gash in his arm. "Honestly, Shadow, stop being stubborn and just give it up."

Clenching his jaw, Shadow glanced at the wound. It did not look good - bone had been cut, and his left arm was useless now.

"Pride is an evil thing, boy. Give up and I swear I'll make your death swift."

Shadow went still. Slowly looked over at Notch. "I am not a boy." His voice was dangerously quiet. "I am a former Prince, and the leader of a rebellion. I am a strategist and a battlefield general."

"You're just like your father was when he was your age."

Within moments, Shadow had grabbed Notch by the throat and slammed him against the wall. "I am nothing like my father!" He hissed, eyes blazing.