Cursed

And Out Comes the Truth

Leaf

Inside the room is a large oak desk. That is virtually it besides some chairs and tables off to the side here and there. The only thing I am concerned about is the person sitting at the desk. He looks perfectly at peace. I hate him. He looks up at me, and there is a sadness in his eyes. His eyes are a dark, ugly, hazel. His black hair is arrayed in a fashion that says he has been running his hands though it most of the day. He is young. My guess is around my age.

To my surprise he doesn't wear armor fit for a fight, instead he wears dark leather clothing. There is no weapon, that I can see, on his desk.

"Are you mocking me with this display of foolishness!" I scream. He stands, and there too is no weapon at his waist. He appears harmless, but I know he is as dangerous as a snake coiled to strike. He is just waiting for the perfect moment.

"If you'd only let me explain everything. You'd understand that what you think happened is wrong," he pleads with me.

I shake my head violently. "NO! You're wrong! It's all a lie to get me to trust you!" I shout, not wanting his words to sink in. Needing his words to not sink in.

He comes around the desk quickly, but I stab with my dagger. I miss by inches, and he stumbles backwards. He is clumsy, not the person that I remember. Everything he has done in the past has been fluid and swift. I guess I am wrong about his skill.

How could he have killed her if this was all he could do? I wonder. My doubt shows, and in my pause he has regained his balance.

He stands, staring at me for a moment, and sighs. "If you're going to fight me, then lets do it on level ground. Unless you want to kill a defenceless man?" The question is loaded. He sure is cunning, I'll give him that much, but if it's a fair battle he want's then he'll get one. I nod and he moves a hand through his hair, proving my earlier observation.

We make our way down a poorly lit hall, and as we reach the end of the hallway there is a moment of blindness. The hall has taken us outside. The dramatic change from such dimness to the sunlight is startling, but what is even worse is all the people gathered around.

It looks like everyone is here to see us. I stumble the rest of the way out of the hall, and the doors close behind me with a final slam. I have no choice to fight him out here now because there are no other ways in or out, it appears. If this is what he has been planning from the start, then he has me trapped. I fell for it. I thought for a moment that I am surely going to die from a third party arrow or sword, but nothing happens.

Everyone is quite, eerily so. It is like they knew what is going to happen, and I am a pawn they have set up. I don't like it.

Looking over at my opponent I notice that he is walking over to a weapons rack. He looks over to me. "You can choose a different weapon, if you'd like. I don't see any point in making you keep your weapon when you could just as easily defy what I say," he says.

I thought it over for a moment, then grab a bow and quiver of arrows, and sling them over my shoulder thinking I'll use them if I need to. Once he has selected a broad sword that is the color of ice he takes up fighting stance. Something is wrong about the way he is standing. It is very different from the person who killed her. Everything about him seems worlds different. I am very hesitant to fight him now. I shouldn't feel like this, I chid. He is the one who killed her. His face is the same, and so is his voice. This is right.

Sensing my hesitation he calls, "Will you hear me out now?" Shaking my head to clear it I charge at him. Tearing from me is a battle cry, but he doesn't move an inch. The closer I get the weaker my resolve becomes. By the time I am close enough to him to strike I stop. He flinches, and I do a backwards flip to put some distance between us. If he really made a move to strike me I knew that he could have hit me, but he didn't. I take the bow from my back and notch an arrow. I point at him, and still he doesn't move. I can't strike down someone who refuses to do anything.

I frown. "What are you doing? Are we fighting or not!" I ask.

He shakes his head again, and tosses his sword to the ground. "I have no wish to fight someone who can easily kill me. I'm not stupid enough to believe that I can scratch you, even in the best of circumstances. Won't you please hear me out now?" He asks again.

Finally giving in, I nod, but I don't lower the bow. He smiles, and it appears to be true. "Thank god, I really thought that I was going to die. I'm not the one who killed her, trust me. It's my brother. We're twins." He explains.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, and I drop the bow and arrow. "No, you're lying," I whisper to myself.

He shakes his head, for somehow he can hear me. "No, I'm not lying." He whispers back.

I fall to my knees and hold my face in my hands. I can't stop the tears from coming. I cry without constraint. The tears are supposed to make up for the past month's feelings of revenge. At finally being able to destroy the one thing that I have been striving to do, and yet he has a twin! It can't be true. He starts to come close to me, and he makes the mistake of putting his hand on my shoulder. I tear one of my hands through the air and slap him away. He falls to the ground from the force of the hit. Seizing the moment to strike I pounce onto his chest and grab for my dagger.

Raising it high above my head I scream through my tears, "You're lying! You killed her! You killed my sister!" The look in his eyes says that he is terrified, that he knows I am going the plunge the dagger into his chest. That I could do it, and that there is nothing that he can do to stop it. Like a fish out of the water with no way to get back to the murky seas it belongs to before it dies. I start to move my hands downward, my tears spilling onto his face. I haven't killed anyone in years, and I'm sure that if it had been anyone else I would have stopped. I have grown soft over the years, but in this moment I am reverted back to the old me. The one who would kill anyone, anywhere, at anytime if they posed any sort of threat to my well being, or that of my sister.

From up above the crowd there is a disturbance as someone moves to the front of the crowd. All of a sudden someone yells, "No, Leaf! Don't do it! You'll never forgive yourself if you do!" I stop just inches from his heart as Will's voice reaches me. I have imagined this moment many times over, but never once did I think that Will would be here. That he would stop me from killing the man who killed my sister. Still crying, I throw the dagger aside. He looks up at me with relived eyes. "I swear I'm telling the truth," he whispers to me. The doors to the hall opens, and out storms Eli with thirty other guards.

Without a second thought I grab his shirt and yank him up close to my face, "Where is he, your brother?" I ask in a voice so low only we could hear. The other guards tense and start to run towards us.

"You can't beat him. He's too strong for just pure sword fighting to work," he says to me, but I don't care. When I don't let go of him he says, "In the heart of the Empire sitting next to the Emperor." I let him go, and he falls to the ground with a hard thump. Standing up I stride toward the now open exit.

Eli is there to stop me. "If you plan on doing anything like going after his brother then I'll lock you up. There are things you have to understand first."

I glare at him. Feeling hate toward Eli, I grab his shoulder and spin him toward me."You knew where my sister's killer was, and you never thought to tell me once? Her death is just as much my fault as it is yours. If you stop me I will kill you, old man," I threaten. Eli stiffens, but he holds his ground. The new leader quickly steps in front of me, forcing me to look him in the eyes. I can now tell his full height, and he is much taller than myself.

"Please, stay awhile. You've just got here, and maybe we could at least provide you with some supplies, weapons, and a fresh horse. I know you lost everything to the Empire. Let us give you something before you leave to face my brother," he states. I can't argue that I'm not under equipped, so I nod. He sighs again, relief marking every movement in his body. "If that's settled then let me properly introduce myself, I'm Micha, and I'm twenty five years old. It's good to finally meet you,"