Weather Control

Chapter 23

I couldn't run yet. He was too far away. It would be too easy for him to catch me.

My heart pounded in my chest. I watched a man die because of him. 

Normally I look away.

Coward.

I easily kept a smirk on my face. His ability rivaled that of Yulimer. His wit beat even the likes of Kim. His death tally was better than an executioner.

He was the best in the world.

There had been only three people that had escaped him.

I was one of them. The two others both died the second time.

It was my second time.

The most important fact: nobody every beat him alone.

I was alone.

The obvious choice would be to run into Sunshine's shop. but it was early morning, and he could wait for me forever. So I was stuck.

He was only ten or so meters in front of me. I bolted. A knife whizzed past my head. 

He didn't miss, he only gave warnings. 

My friends said I ran like the so-called-tiger. It was a fearsome, agile beast. But if that is true, then he runs like a bird of prey. So smooth and so fast that if someone blinked, They'd miss him. 

It was luck, but I would have liked to say that I knew things from experience, that I knew how long it took to draw a knife, aim and shoot. In truth, I happened to look back at the right time. 

He was maybe twenty meters out; he was cocky. And there was a knife slicing through the air.

Too many cuts after too many times practicing. I told myself. I knew how to do this.

In seconds, the lucky seconds I had, I reached back and lightly caught the knife.

And I caught it by the wrong end.

I dropped it, and he easily bent to pick it up, never breaking stride, still sprinting straight for me. 

I was about to be killed with a blade that already had my blood on it. A death I promised I never would die.

And I could see the bridge. It had taken forever to get to where I was, a full half minute.

But no more knives came, and I dove across the bridge, landing on my side. 

I looked back. He had stopped chasing me a long time before a reached the bridge. He was just a spot in the distance. I cradled my bloodied hand to my chest and cried in the middle of the road on the north side of the bridge. Nobody touched, not even the pick pockets. 

I was breathing too fast, and everything hurt. He had stopped on purpose. He chose not to kill me.

He wanted me to be scared. He didn't want to cause any trouble.

He just wanted me to be scared.

I should've fought him and lost with honor. 

Coward.

I slowed my breathing and wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket that wasn't covered in damp blood.

 I stood up and walked home.

My home looked the same: small and uninviting. And, pretending like nothing had happened, pretending that I hadn't almost died, I walked through the door.

The entire room was vacant besides two people, unusual for this time of day. Yuilmer was back from his "vacation" and was sitting at the table restringing his gila, some sort of instrument played with a bow. Leo was sleeping on the only real bed and, unsurprisingly, didn't wake up to the loud squeaks of the door hinges when I entered.

Yulimer didn't spare me glance as I went to the corner of the room where we kept things like food and medical supplies. I wiped blood off of my hands onto my pants and grabbed a roll of bandages. I walked back to the table. It was a two handed job and I had only one good hand.

I held the bandages out to Yulimer. "Please," I said.

He didn't look at me, didn't say anything. but he still grabbed the bandages and wrapped my hand. His eyes flicked upwards to meet mine only once. He wanted to know how I was feeling.

When he was finished, I returned the bandages to their spot. I removed my shoes and claimed into one of the hammocks nailed to the wall. They were by no means comfy, but they were the best I had. 

"How did you get that cut?" Yulimer asked once I had laid down. He wasn't looking at me, and his voice was so soft.

My only response was "I caught a knife very poorly." I didn't care that he was worried. He wasn't getting an answer today. He could pick it up from the local gossip if he wanted and he knew it. he was trying me.

But he wasn't hurt by my response, just sad.

I didn't want his pity, and he knew it. 

So he let me sleep.