My Dear Damsel

Chapter 21

"Cherry, you stubborn idiot." I mutter. 

"That's not nice," she scolds, swatting me. In her present state, it's about as powerful as being smacked with a pillow. 

Definitely not good. 

Still low, I watch the mage, breathing heavily. He raises another weapon—a spear, it seems—and points it right at me. 

Though he makes no visible move, another knife flies by, embedding itself in the exact same spot the first knife was. 

Guess he doesn't miss, then. 

I gulp. He clearly wants to face me, and he won't take 'no' for an answer. But what do I do about Cherry?

Fahj-Dsal growls. I look at her and take a deep breath. 

"Could you—" my voice falters. "Could you take care of Cherry? When I go out there, if I don't come back..." 

The little blue dragon tilts her head and makes a sad whimpering noise, but settles on Cherry's stomach. Cherry giggles and strokes her scales.

I hope Cherry's condition is only temporary. 

I take off the necklace and rub my thumb against the small pendant for a moment before extending it into a full sword. 

It'll be okay, Renny. I tell myself. 

But I'm not a great liar. Especially to myself. 

I stand up, knowing full well that the mage could easily send one of his weird magic knives at me, and there's little to no chance of me being able to avoid it. 

I have close to no fighting skills. I can throw a decent punch without breaking my thumb. I know the basics of swordplay, plus this sword has Cherry's weird self-adjusting thing. 

Though I'm not sure if the sword's enchantment is even working. After all, Cherry's barely awake.    

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh I am going to die. 

I am going to fucking die. In the middle of nowhere. And Cherry will find me dead and be brought back to her tower and nothing's going to change. 

It occurs to me that I should probably be experiencing some sense of regret over everything, but I don't. I'm scared, sure, but what would my life be if I just kept living normally? Marrying that greasy old man, dodging rapists, waiting for Ree to come home. Nothing to look forwards to there. 

Running away was the right choice. I barely know my dad, and my mother is abusive. She doesn't get a redemption arc just because death seems pretty inevitable. 

I walk towards the tower slowly, doing my best to stay behind the trees. I don't hear anymore knives being magically flung my way, so I'll take that as a good sign. 

Slowly, slowly I make my way to the clearing with the tower. I feel like a coward. I can't do this! I'm trembling like a leaf. Every instinct I have is telling me to go back! It's not too late!

I mean, it is, but panic doesn't really know that. 

Besides, Cherry wants him dead. I'm not sure if she wanted me to kill him—no doubt she'd want that revenge—but she wants him dead. 

So it's up to me to kill him. 

Eventually, there are no more trees to hide behind. I step into the wildflower-carpeted clearing, breathing deeply. 

The mage leans casually against the tower. His face is obscured by a black hood. He seems to spot me, and steps away from the tower. 

I raise my sword and wait for him to make the first move. 

He doesn't, though. His spear dangles loosely from his fingers. "So you're the one planning on fighting me?" 

He sounds bored. That irritates me. 

"Yeah?" I shake my sword in a way that I hope is menacing. 

He laughs, which does nothing to help my nerves. Or my ego. 

"You can turn away now, if you want. It's only Cheryl I'm after." 

"You're not getting her. Besides, you'd never let me leave." I snarl. 

"True," he concedes. "I'd definitely kill you."

A shiver runs down my spine. 

It happens so fast I barely have time to react. 

He jabs his spear at my gut. I jump back, panting, the sharp tip ripping open my shirt and sparking against my chain mail. 

The chain mail. Right. I have one line of defence, at least. 

Using both hands, I swing sideways. I rip through the cloth, connect with something—

The form deflates, leaving a cloak crumpled on the green grass. 

My heart pounds. Where did he...

"Nice try." Hot breath tickles my neck. I jab my elbow backwards and hear a soft grunt. Whirling around so I can face him, I stab at his chest. 

He catches my sword in the curve of his weapon, which has somehow transformed from a deadly black spear into some kind of hooked sword. 

Sparks fly as he pushes back, knocking me off balance. I stumble back, struggling to regain my equilibrium. 

I swing the sword wildly in an attempt to fend him off, but he can teleport. Which is a) not fair and b) really hard to defend against. 

He lunges at me again. I guess he's figured that I'm wearing the mail, because he aims for my legs instead. The hooked point cuts into my flesh. 

I'd like to think that I'm pretty good with pain, especially since the whole spine snake thing. But this cut is even deeper. 

Blood quickly soaks through the fabric. Stinging cords wrap around my left leg, pulling me under. I feel woozy and sick, but I can't let it distract me. 

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. That's what I've always told myself. 

I'm on one knee, but I try to stagger to both feet. The moment I put weight on it, though, I nearly black out. Blood is gushing freely, 

The thought rings at the back of my head: I should be dead. 

But I look up, and the mage is just standing there. 

I know now what Cherry meant about how his face is hard to focus on. Aside from the scar, his features seem watery and distant. 

Or maybe that's the blood loss. 

"What are you waiting for?" I hiss through the pain. 

I'm not sure if I'd mind death at this point. Ree's there. 

"I changed my mind." He pulls a length of rope from his waist. 

"No—"

He clamped one gloved hand over my mouth. I bite, and he pulls it away. 

"Fine. Have it your way." 

He waves his hand, and I lose consciousness.