Blade Song

Chapter 20-Fresh Guilt

We dashed at each other, meeting in the center of the ring. The first few moments of the fight were spent trading slashes, blocks and thrusts. Neither of us was putting our all into the attack, not yet. We were still feeling each other out, testing the other for weakness and defensive gaps.

As we backed away from one another, circling, planning our next moves, I took a tally of my disadvantages. In those short seconds before the real battle began, I realized just how many there were.

I'd grown far too accustomed to using two weapons, and as a result, the deflecting I was doing with my left arm had become unsteady. I wasn't using the dagger to its full potential either. Daggers can be used to slash, but they are far more effective as a stabbing weapon. I wasn't comfortable with this, as it would risk seriously injuring Six. However, my biggest problem by far was how I had to cater to my current goal. Was it always this hard not to kill people?

Again, we charged in. The pace was quicker now, a blur of arms and steel. I ducked down to avoid a wide attack aimed at my neck. He was reading my shaky deflects with my offhand as a weakness, but I would turn it on him.

I went back on the offensive. Slash. Deflect. Slash. Deflect. Slash. I lulled him into a rhythm I created, controlling the fight with false predictability. He was getting cocky, pushing harder. There was too much confidence in his attacks. He thought he'd won.

I seized my opportunity. After another slash, I brought my right hand back again, colliding with his. I hooked my dagger around his wrist and brought it back up, slicing into it. He retreated, clutching his bloody arm. What a terrible sound this thing made.

A slight smile formed on my lips. He may have gotten stronger, but I would always be faster.

Six recovered quickly. Dagger blades are dull and the cut had been too shallow. He was angrier than before. His attacks were faster and more aggressive. We fell back into our pattern of exchanging attacks, searching once again for openings.

On his deflect he twisted his arm around, seizing mine with his hand. His blade came up quickly, piercing my arm. I yelled and brought up my leg for a side kick, forcing him to remove the blade to block his ribs. As soon as he moved, I wrenched my arm away and jumped backwards, putting some distance between us.

Quick examination of my arm revealed the blade didn't go all the way through. My lightning reaction time had spared me that. I couldn't use the dagger properly with my right anymore. Though, I could still block with it. It mattered little.

I took the dagger in my left hand instead and twirled it around with a smirk on my face. This fool thought to cripple me, but years of dual wielding had made both my hands equal in skill.

His face tensed and his eyes burned. He charged a final time, screaming as loudly as he could. I heard the raw bitterness in that scream, read the animal like desperation in his face. This was going to be his final attack.

He tried to bluff by holding his weapon high, as though he was going to attack my chest, or maybe my throat. I waited, waited until the last possible second, depending on my fast reaction times to guide my arms where I needed to go.

Six went low and thrust at my stomach. Keeping my left hand on the hilt, I grasped the dull blade with my right. His dagger cut through the air towards my stomach. I brought mine down on his already damaged wrist, blocking the attack and cutting it further, as well as my own hand. The strain pumped the blood from the hole in my arm, but it didn't matter. I am faster, better, no longer weak. I do not lose.

My knee flew up and crushed his wrist against the blade, forcing him to drop his weapon. Then, just as quickly, my dagger was at his throat.

The fire faded from his face and was replaced with a heartbroken expression. "Almost six whole years of nothing but fighting with daggers day after day, and you're still my better."