Breaking Point

“I’ll show you what it’s like to fight with a real swordsman. One who doesn’t have to rely on a guard.” Says Douglas. His expression one part smirk and one part sneer, with all parts being infuriatingly self important.

Douglas’s soles slam into the ground as he runs at a speed almost comparable to a defender’s. His sword bounces off Asa’s with a clink as he deflects the strike last minute. The two descend into a flurry of slashes.

Douglas’s ruthless attacks drive Asa backwards. Every hurried movement of his muscles tear at the wound. Asa grimaces, but doesn’t lose speed. If I move any slower, I’ll die!

The onslaught of attacks continue, each one jostling the cut in his abdomen. He swears he can feel the blood leaving his body. He feels dizzy.

Without realizing, Asa’s been pushed back halfway through the village square. There’s something hard at his back. He pats it with his palms. Brick! I ran into the platform!

His head whips to one side, then the other. The brick wall stretches on for at least a few meters. There’s no obvious escape. Douglas lunges for him, sword pointed at his gut!

In a moment of adrenaline fueled clarity, he jumps vertically from the ground. Douglas’s blade pierces the concrete. Asa wobbles. The sudden leap didn’t leave him time to determine a balanced position. Douglas pulls his weapon loose and slashes his unguarded legs.

Asa yells in pain, then quickly pulls himself together. He moves further back on the platform, then leaps over him in an attempt to create distance.

He lands in front of a home, a distance behind Douglas. The landing is rough. His bleeding legs buckle under his weight, sending him stumbling backwards. He isn’t able to stop until his heel catches on a step and he falls over, slamming on his head the doorframe with his neck crooked at an awkward angle.

A little girl’s voice lets out a frightened exclamation before her mother grabs her and carries her deeper into their home, as far away from the fighting as possible. It isn’t long after the leap that Douglas is turned around and running his way.

He stops in front of Asa, who’s struggling to get off the floor. Douglas holds his sword above his head, building momentum.

He then swings, letting the blade fall to its target.

☼

Mint huddles against the wall of the house in front of the clinic, his heart pounding out of control. I know Baaya told me to hide, but I just can’t leave her!

He had followed her instructions initially, kneeling on the wooden planks and shaking helplessly for what felt like an eternity. Anxious thoughts of Baaya being hurt or killed swirled through his mind and as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop them.

They grew in number and intensity until he could no longer stay put. He didn’t know if he had been in the clinic for an hour or only a few minutes, but there was one thing he knew for certain. He had failed at doing what she told him to do.

Guilt weighs on him heavily and he’s torn between helping Baaya and going back home. Either way, he’ll feel guilty, so feelings aren’t something he can rely on to figure out what’s right.

I already know what Baaya wants, but I’m too weak to manage it… Sorry, Baaya. I’m still nothing but an undisciplined, selfish kid.

Well, if I can’t have discipline, then what can I do? A strength he’s never known before grows within him. He makes his decision.

Mint runs to the village square. There he sees Asa (Or Niklaus, the name Mint knows him as) and the man who’d blown up Emiyeh’s house fighting with swords!

He wouldn’t just ruin the home of Emiyeh, who’s so nice and gives him sweet food and vegetables from her garden, but he’d hurt a beautiful person like Asa?! Hasn’t he even looked at him? Surely he’d stop fighting him if he had… but he hadn’t stopped.

He must be an awful person who can’t appreciate beauty or eating dessert with a friend! (Or he just thinks his nice things are more important than other people’s, so it won’t matter if he destroys their things.) Righteous anger burns within Mint’s small body. How dare he spit on the things I love!

At that moment, Douglas slashes Asa’s legs. Mint gasps, feeling like a knife was plunged into his own heart. A sinister hand then wraps around it as he watches Asa leap off the platform, and when he stumbles backwards, it starts to squeeze. His breaths are short and shallow, like there’s suddenly not enough room in his ribcage for his lungs to fill.

Before he can think, Mint’s legs are moving without him.

ꕤ

Time freezes as the blade hurdles towards his head. He can’t do anything but stare as death steadily approaches. I have to do something! Anything! Move! Move!

His body won’t move. Deep down, he knows it’s because his mind is the only reason the world around him is in slow motion. In the time it’d take to move his muscles, the sword would’ve already cleaved his skull.

Move! Move! Please, move! After all his struggling, the only body part he manages to move is his eyelids. He closes his eyes and waits for impact…

SHING! He recognizes the sound of metal hitting something, hard. Wouldn’t his skull have made a more meaty sound, like a thwack? Speaking of which, wouldn’t the sound have come from the inside of his head?

It seems to have come from outside his body. Could it be… that something stopped the blade? That someone saved him?

That’s too good to be true. He hesitates to accept this as the truth just yet. He cracks his eyes open and light enters them.

I can see. I must still be alive. As the strangling tension leaves his body, he lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He knew it was too cruel for him to die here! The terrifying moment starts to fade, like waking up from a bad dream.

“Mister, are you okay?!”

That voice is young. Very young. Isn’t that… “Mint?” Asks Asa as he looks upwards.

Surely enough, Mint’s back is what he sees, clothed in green. He’s in his Animaguard and holding Douglas’s blade back with his staff.

His thin arms strain to hold the blow back and his entire frame is trembling. The boy is using all the might in his body to protect him.

“This doesn’t involve you!” Shouts Douglas as he strikes Mint with the back of his forearm. He’s thrown aside like a squeak toy, yelping as he crashes into the dirt.

“Mint!” Asa yells. He tries to get up, but his body’s resisting. All he can handle is quickly moving into a sitting position and scooching his back up the door frame. It takes all his energy. His heart pounds out of control and his sword shakes in front of him. Blood seeps from his midsection.

Asa doesn’t have it in him to handle another blow. Douglas is aware of this and watches him how a predator watches their prey.

He slowly stalks closer, as if he’s savoring the moment before the kill. The electrifying feeling of being in charge of someone else’s life. Of being the winner. The one who’s on top.

He turns the blade in his hand, feeling its satisfying weight as he watches his opponent’s fearful expression. The way his body trembles. The blood dripping down his armor and the scratches in his skin. This is what it feels like to win.

To be better than someone else, completely and utterly. Footsteps tap the patio. “Stop!”

A dark haired woman in her 30s stands between him and Asa. She’s familiar… What was her name? She interrupted his battle right as it had reached the good part. Douglas sputters, frustration mounting. “What are you doing out here? Go back inside!”

“No!” Says Emiyeh. “I’m not going to let you hurt anyone else.”

“Mama. Mama.” A toddler stands in the doorway, calling to Emiyeh. Her little voice whines, agitated by her mom leaving her sight. She’s clearly anxious, but doesn’t understand death well enough to be scared.

“Go back inside!” Whispers Emiyeh, not wanting to direct attention to the small girl. A little girl hurriedly scoops the toddler up and rushes inside. She cries as the older girl closes the door behind them.

Douglas scowls. He could cut her down right here, but there was no fun in killing a helpless woman. Not to mention what it could do to his reputation.

Soleeh might be an isolated place, but a foolish action can come back on you in ways you don’t expect. Property damage is something he could smooth over once he’s back in Litora. He’s not so confident he could do the same with the deliberate killing of a civilian.

“Get out of the way before you get hurt.” He demands.

A deep, husky voice comes from behind him.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.” It says.

That voice isn’t the only one. There’s others. Douglas slowly turns to face them.