Tension

Douglas looks to Creed. “Let the old woman go. Don’t harm her.”

“Yes, sir.” She’s uncertain, but trusts his judgement.

Asa smiles, satisfied. He kneels down. “Baaya, let him go.” He whispers. “I’ll stay close in case they pull something.”

She looks at him, then at Douglas, a hardened glare still on her face. She reluctantly unwraps her arms and legs from his body. Asa smiles again, as disarmingly as he can. “Thank you.”

Douglas stands and brushes off his coat. Asa takes Baaya’s hands and helps her up, watching him closely the entire time. He walks back to his men, then turns around to face Asa and Baaya.

“I’m going to walk grandma back to her home. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Hurry. And don’t even think about running.” Says Douglas. He’s being cooperative, but there’s a look of danger in his eyes. His usually perfect hair is disheveled.

“I will, sir. Don’t worry.” Says Asa as he ushers Baaya away.

Douglas silently eyes him. Asa chuckles nervously. “Thank you so much, sir.”

Asa walks Baaya in the direction of the clinic, positioning himself so that most of her back is covered with his own body. He figures he should be glad she’s being uncharacteristically compliant. The front door squeaks as Asa guides her into her home.

She goes along with it as he lowers her into a chair. Her gruff face is as hard to read as ever, but it’s softer. “You sure kissed a lot of ass.” Her voice growls with an aged crackle.

“I did.” He makes a humbled grin. She gazes at him silently with a hint of concern in her eyes.

His smile softens. “Baaya, don’t move, okay? I’ll take care of everything.” He says. “You may not know me well, but you have to trust me.”

“You think you can take those soldiers?”

He hesitates.

“You’re not just a wanderer, are you?”

He shakes his head. She doesn’t say anything.

Asa stands and faces the door, then turns his head towards her.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” He gives her one last reassuring smile, then runs out of the clinic.

She watches his back as he leaves. After he closes the door, her eyes drift to her hands in her lap. She’s left alone with her thoughts.

☼

Asa stands alone, before Douglas and the soldiers. “Okay. She’s somewhere safe. I’m ready to guide you now.”

“First.” Creed interjects, pointing behind him. “Empty your bag out.”

Asa’s heart skips. Shit! I forgot I was still wearing it! Besides a small twitch, his face doesn’t betray his anxiety.

She continues. “We need to know what’s in it before we let you any closer.”

He smiles awkwardly. “Oh, yeah… This.” He gestures at the travel pack. “You caught me when I was about to go camping. There’s not much of anything interesting in there.”

Creed smiles back. “We shouldn’t have any problems, then. I’d say you do look like the outdoorsy type.” She says, in reference to his beat up boots and thigh pouch. Her eyes linger on the survival knife.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, now just go ahead and pour it out. I know it’s inconvenient, but it’s best to just get it out of the way.”

“I understand.”

He carefully removes his backpack, slowly sliding off one shoulder strap, then the other. He balances its weight in one hand, making sure not to drop it.

Creed maintains a friendly smile as she watches his every move. He loosens the drawstring, then places one hand on each side of the bag’s sturdy leather bottom.

Using his hands as a pivot point, gravity starts to tip the imbalanced backpack top first. It tilts slowly at the beginning, then flips over in a sharp arc. The contents pour onto the dusty dirt pathway.

.

A heavy book bounces off the ground, a few pens too. A paper map falls. A notebook gets knocked open, showing the messy scribbles inside. A few more objects fall too fast to identify, and a blanket comes out last, cloaking everything beneath it.

Creed swears she saw a glimpse of a familiar item, but she can’t be sure. She approaches the pile. Asa stares at her.

She sheaths her blade and shows her empty hands in a placating manner. “See. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to get a closer look at this stuff.”

Asa stays still, allowing her to. She gathers a handful of fabric in a gloved hand. As the blanket shifts, Mimo’s black case comes into view. Creed's eyes widen beneath her visor and she shoots up.

“He’s from Inizi – !” The bag collides with her face, muffling her words. The soldiers are stunned.

Before anyone can respond, Asa leaps back and taps his chest, activating the Animaguard beneath his shirt. In a flash of light, he’s transformed into dazzling armor.

Gold pauldrons shine and crimson gems glitter. A grey bodysuit accentuates his figure in harmony with a light red leotard adorned with golden accents and sleek, white boots that extend up to his thighs.

A cape sways behind him and an iridescent, burgundy sash ghosts his hips. Beside it is the most important part of all: a sword of breathtaking length, the sizable hilt having a beautiful stone inset at its end.

He unsheathes the sword swiftly. The edge of its silver blade glows with blue energy as he dashes forward. In the blink of an eye, Creed takes out her blade and the bag is slashed to shreds. The fabric falls to the ground, revealing her snarling face. Their blades clash with a spark.

“He’s a defender!” Shouts Brent. Before he can say the last word, Shepard is already charging at Asa.

Asa jumps back from Creed in time to parry Shepard’s strike. If getting them away from the village isn’t an option, I’ll just have to fight them here! He thinks.

As Creed and Shepard gang up on Asa, Brent shuffles uselessly, unsure of what he can do while carrying the energy cannon. Rico guards the transport so that no one drives off with it. A cacophony of sparks and metallic clanks fills the air.

Asa holds his own against the soldiers, moving with a speed and precision that could only be possible with an Animaguard and the years of training it takes to properly wield it. This speed and precision is the very signature of a defender. Creed slashes and slashes, growing increasingly frustrated and frenzied as each blow is met with nothing but air and a fading blur of red.

Sweat drips down her brow and her snarl grows, baring large canines. Shepard isn’t doing much better. A bead of moisture snakes across his cool face. None of his blows have landed.

The tip of the energy blade slashes across Creed’s breastplate, searing it open. She screams as her skin splits. Shepard is stunned by the sound. She’s never screamed in battle!

In his moment of distraction, the blade cuts through his shoulder, embedding itself in his collarbone with a thunk that jolts his spine. An explosion of searing pain rips through his body. He pushes it aside. He can’t afford any more distractions.

Shepard almost grabs the blade, but stops himself. He fidgets, getting no closer freedom. Each movement damages his internals worse. Asa hesitates, suddenly struck by a fear of injuring Shepard’s shoulder worse.

He may be an enemy, but a person is a person. It’ll feel like a stab to the heart whenever he hurts anyone. Shepard takes the opportunity.

He slashes his stomach. Asa yelps and jumps back, dragging the blade through the open wound. It’s Shepard's turn to scream as his collarbone is severed. He staggers backwards, holding his bloody shoulder.

Brent trembles as both of their best fighters start to lose. He hesitantly points the cannon at Asa, even as his aim shakes. He slowly squeezes the trigger.

Douglas shoves the cannon’s end to the ground. His face dripping with sweat. “Are you crazy?! That thing only has two shots left!”

Brent stares at him, the realization of what he almost did setting in. Was he really going to kill Creed and Shepard just to save himself?

Asa holds his abdomen and catches his breath, heart pounding. Shepard and Creed take a few steps back, eyeing him. The fight has come to a standstill.

“Shepard, Creed! Fall back.” Says Douglas with his back straight.

The two look at him with confused expressions. There’s a serious look in his eyes. “I’ll handle the rest.”

They retreat to their positions behind Douglas.

“Rico. Treat their wounds.” He says.

“Yes, sir!” Says Rico.

Douglas removes his jacket and hands it to Brent. The soldier takes it without question. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to stay out of the way.”

“Uh… No.” Brent hesitantly responds. He’s not sure if that’s his way of calling him a coward. Douglas walks forward and takes his sword from its sheath.

It’s a long, regal energy weapon, the same shade of blue as Asa’s. He readies it with a smirk. “I have a score to settle, anyways.”