16: Getting Fired Up

The barking grew louder and more frantic as I got closer to my makeshift camp. The squirrel-fox pups scurried around the corner of a building, saw me, and darted towards me. Cowering by my feet, they whined and pawed at me. The larger one was missing, though.

"Hey, it's okay. What's going on?"

I lowered the sword to comfort them. The few times I'd pet them, they seemed to enjoy being scratched behind their over-sized ears or under the chin. This time, they had a different idea. They ran up my arms and huddled around my neck like a living scarf. The day was already hot enough. I didn't need the extra warmth.

"What's wrong, little—?"

"Over here! I think they ran this way!" The voice was deep, gruff, and angry.

I froze.

That was… a person? And they called out to…? How many—?

"What do they want with you two, huh?" I quietly retreated to my hovel with them. "Stay here. Got that?" I placed them on my leafy bed. "Stay put and stay safe. I'll be right back," I whispered. They continued whimpering, but I buried them in the leaves. It was my only plan to keep them safe on such short notice. I had to hide them from their hunters. "Shhh… You have to listen to me, okay?" When I finished covering them, I did my best to tiptoe away and avoid drawing any attention to their hiding spot.

"Just… Will ya forget about 'em? We're not here for some puny rodents," called back an annoyed, younger voice.

"Yeah? Well, you're not the one who got bit! I'll get them for what their rotten mother did. I’ll make a hat outta them, the little…"

"So much for the 'brilliant hunter'. You're nothin' but a sour, boozed-up, old bastard. A simple bandit like the rest of us. Psh! You ain’t got any other skills. Can't even catch a couple of flying fennecs. It'd be over by now if you’d let me bring along some of the others."

Flying fennecs? So that's what the squirrel-foxes are called? Hold on. Did he say bandits? Like thieves? Criminals?

"Shut up! You're only here 'cause you saw it, same as me. If I have to split my treasure, I'm not giving up more than half. You always have to tag along, don't you?"

"And you'll thank me for it later."

Of course, the first humans I met here had to be someone like them. At least there's only two, I think, but what treasure are they talking about? "Someone must have seen that, and now? They’ll be coming before you know it." The warning from my dream played in my head. Damn voice… A little context would have been nice.

Keeping tabs on the newcomers was easier than expected, considering how much they stomped around like they owned the place. I stayed low and hid in the shadows. If I still had to drag the stone sword around, they'd have known I was there, too.

"You sure it came from here? Scavengers should've picked these ruins clean ages ago. See? Nothing but rocks everywhere."

"You're asking me? You're the one who saw it first, 'Mr. Expert.' I'm just tagging along, ain't I?"

"Shaddap, twerp!"

Wow. How can these two sneak up on anything?

I continued skulking around, listening, and hoping they'd just give up and leave. I knew there was nothing here, so they’d learn the same soon enough. I'd never stand a chance if it came down to a one-on-one fight, let alone two-on-one. I had my water and dirt-flavored food. I'd be fine waiting for the next visitors instead. They’d probably be nicer, anyway.

"Huh? What's a pile of wood—Yay! We got water over here! I thought for sure I was gonna die of thirst."

The younger bandit stepped into view to fill his canteen from my fountain. He looked around my age, a twenty-something guy, lean, with a jaw of stubble. His clothes were simple; brown pants, white shirt, and leather boots. No armor, but he had a hunting knife, or dagger of some kind, hanging at his waist.

"If only…" laughed the gruff voice. "Fill mine, too." A canteen flew at the younger one’s face, making him drop his own into the basin. The gruff one stepped closer, still laughing at the other. He was taller, heavier, and dressed in similar attire, but looked older. He had an unruly, greasy beard with white streaks, a dinged up helmet, and a cleaver-like blade around the length of a forearm on his back.

What did I have? Tattered pajamas that were getting worse by the day, and a heavy rock with a handle. I was out of my league. Fighting them would clearly be a death sentence.

If only this was playing out in Wonder Saga. I'd have charged in with no hesitation, sword swinging. Lose the fight? Simple. Retry, go again, and repeat until I eventually won the fight. That's the confidence you gain when you're safe behind a monitor and getting hurt is nothing more than a hand cramp. I had the jewel if I needed any healing now, but I'd have to survive a fight and somehow be able to get to it.

Keep calm. Watch. Don't do anything you'll regret, dumbass.

"Hey! It might just be from the rush to get here, but… Do you feel that?"

"Yeah. It's not just you. Something's… weird in these ruins."

"L-like… you m-mean, maybe it’s… haunted? I-I thought you said—"

"Quiet! I know what I said. Let me think…"

Haunted? This place? I haven't noticed anything odd, except… Nope. That would actually be everything. Including these two weapon-toting Tweedles.

"I… I d-don't like it. Is that what killed this?!" The younger bandit was getting jumpy, examining the beast’s corpse, which I left out in the open. It stunk, but I didn’t want to eat it, especially raw, even if that felt like ironic karma. In the end, I simply wasn’t sure how to deal with it yet. I was even getting used to the smell. I hoped the body would ward off any other ugly creatures looking to make a meal out of me. "Can we j-just look for whatever l-lit up the sky, and leave?"

"Go! I ain't stopping you, but I'm not sharing if you leave. It's around here somewhere. It's gotta be… and it'll all be mine." The gruff bandit's mind focused on his treasure, not his friend.

What lit up the—? The jewel's light? They saw it from—?! So, that means… No! They're here because of… me?! If they hurt the—It's… It’s all MY fault.

An urge to retreat to the church and the jewel gnawed at me, but that meant letting the bandits roam free out of my sight. The gruff one acted strange enough, following an invisible trail. Every step led him closer to my hovel and the pups. Leaving wasn’t an option.

What can I do? I grabbed a small rock. A distraction. That's it!

The younger one was so jumpy it might scare him into leaving and taking the other guy with him. I just had to wait for them to both look away from my hiding spot. Continuing their hunt, they approached my hovel. Any closer, and they would discover the whimpering pups.

I squeezed the rock hard, pulled my hand back to wind up, and waited for my chance.

Do it now! Throw the—!

"So… That's it, eh?"

Wait! My body froze, mid-twist, holding the rock by my ear. Does he know my plan? I held still.

"What?! What is it?! I-is this p-place haunted… or n-not?" squeaked out the jumpy one. The gruff bandit didn't answer, but stared right in my direction. A dubious grin spread from ear to ear, his crooked teeth on full display. "A-are you sure? I can't sense—"

"Enough! You rely on that too much for your own good. I don't know how, but something's…" They both moved towards me in lockstep, the younger one virtually clinging to his large accomplice's back.

Ba-dum… Ba-dum… Ba-dum…

My heart drummed in my ears, and a tightness squeezed my chest. I placed the rock down, and my hands gripped the sword. The handle was slick with sweat.

It's now or never, Skyler. You can't just keep… waiting, doing nothing. Fail or not, just… I… I have to—

"AHHH! Get it off of me!" shrieked the jumpy bandit. "Get it off! GET! IT! OFF!" He flailed his arms and drew the gruff one's attention. The larger flying fennec clung to his back, clawing and biting at his neck and ears.

"If you don't stop moving… Hold still, or—!" The gruff bandit swung without finishing his warning.

"Y-you wouldn’t dare!" The jumpy bandit ducked an incoming fist.

Thump!

The flying fennec took the hit, but hung on. It dug its claws and teeth deeper into the jumpy intruder as his scream of agony grew louder. "Are you crazy?! You almost—!" A second fist struck his jaw and sent him spinning until he collapsed. The gruff one didn't stop there. He kept pummeling 'jumpy' with blow after blow.

This Tweedle is… brutal. He's… insane!

Maybe the beating was his way of not letting an opportunity slip away. He could keep the treasure to himself if he eliminated the other one. Meanwhile, the flying fennec limped away, heading for my hovel and its pups. When the beating finished, the younger bandit groaned on the ground and held his ribs.

"Now, where'd that other little… Aha! Got you this time, you—!"

"S-stop! Leave it alone!"

What am I doing?!

My body acted before my mind could talk me out of it. There was no turning back. I stood in the open for all to see. My trembling sword pointed directly at the brute, barely a threat, with my arms and legs quaking in fear.

"Says, who?" snarled the gruff bandit. He looked torn between wanting to settle his grudge and put me in my place for daring to intrude. His eyes darted from me, to my hovel, and back again.

"Th-there’s thomething wr-wr-wrong with that g-guy! He… He’th n-not rethonating!"

The young bandit pointed a finger at me while nursing the fresh injuries his partner gave him.

"Impossible," grunted the gruff one. The jumpy bandit's comment succeeded where I fell short. The big guy's attention focused on me alone.

Not… resonating? What does that mean? Am I failing at something I didn’t even know—? Stop! Shut up! Focus on the threat in front of you, dumbass!

"Hmph! I like your little… toy sword, boy. A bit odd for my tastes, but a sword's a sword. Hand it over, and I might let you run," he sneered.

"N-no! Leave! T-take your friend and—!"

"Friend? This guy? Ha! Right…"

"Hey…" whined the wounded bandit. "What’s that supposed to—?"

"Or what?" taunted the gruff bandit.

Now you’ve done it. You’re doomed. 

I had no clue how to answer. I never thought that far ahead. Those words just spilled out of my mouth.

"Don’t know how to use it, eh?" The gruff bandit grinned at his perfect assessment of me and my sword. He took a step closer, his hand reaching for the handle of his own blade, and prepared to take what he wanted by force.

I took a step back in kind, hoping to keep the distance between us fairly consistent. Then, for just a moment, my sweaty grip faltered. My shaking sword dipped and gave him an opening. He charged at me, roaring out an angry battle cry, and raised his blade high. The large cleaver caught the light as he sliced down at me. Time crawled for a moment, and adrenaline surged through my veins.

Do I have a death wish? Maybe. Why did I intervene? I wish I knew! What did I have at stake? Nothing!

I knew a fight was unwinnable, so what made me do it? Moments of the flying fennec ran through my mind: the way it snuck in close and sniffed me, that bushy-tail wagging from side to side, the excited bouncing when it wanted to play, the gifts it used to leave for me in the morning.

Try!

I swung my sword upward, a clumsy attempt to block his attack. My wrists strained under the weight pulling against them. He hadn't even hit me yet, and I already felt pain.

Come on, this isn’t a silly quest. I’m not playing a game. I… I just want—need to keep them safe, to give them a chance to escape!

Gong!

Our blades clashed. Vibrations shot through both of my arms. Somehow, I deflected the attack, barely, and stumbled backwards from the force behind it. The dull tone of my sword caught the bandit by surprise, but didn’t stop him.

Unlike me, he recovered instantly and swung again. My body reacted to the imminent pain and attempted to dodge. Too bad the action wasn’t as easy as pressing a button to sidestep an attack in the nick of time. I was clumsy and uncoordinated. A sudden misstep led to my heel getting caught on the edge of an uneven stone. I tripped. Every muscle tensed, preparing for the fall, and my heart skipped a beat.

Thud.

I landed on my back, winced, and rolled away to evade the next attack. Sparks jumped off the stones when his blade scraped against them. It was a miracle that he even missed me. Immediately following the failed attack, he stomped down. I rolled again, and he alternated between trying to crush me under his boot and carve me open. Rolling back and forth, my attempts to dodge him were like a dizzy carnival game from hell.

"Resonance won’t work, but… That sword's mine. Give it here! I'll show you how to use it!"

Each swing barely missed, and he showered me with sparks and spit. I quickly wiped my face. He glared, and my skin crawled from the anger in his eyes. I was wrong before. He was beyond insane.

Strike after failed strike, his attacks must have been wearing him out. He huffed and puffed between each attack. I took one of those increasingly frequent moments as a chance to scramble away on my hands and knees. I needed a better plan than just rolling around. Soon or later, things were bound to tip in his favor.

"H-he hath to be rethonating. Why c-can’t we read him?"

The other bandit watched from the sidelines, a mixture of confusion and fear etched across his face. He kept his distance, still doubled over, coughing, bleeding, and shouting at us.

Resonating? Read me? What does any of that even mean?

"Deal’s off. You’ll die soon enough. Game’s done… boy," he snarled. The way he kept calling me 'boy' irritated me. He raised his blade overhead and charged again.

I stood next to my useless, unlit signal fire, and an idea finally popped into my head. Honestly, I was kicking myself for not noticing it before. Whether it was good, bad, crazy, or maybe even all the above, I didn’t care. I was all in. I needed to make things more difficult for him, and I seized the opportunity. I only saw it as a failure when I missed my target—the stone slab with the jewel—but he wasn’t the only one capable of making a spark.

Just as I entered his attack range, he entered mine. I dropped the twin tips of my sword to the ground, pressed into it with all my weight, and twisted. I swung wide with all my strength—and prayed—forcing the blade's edge to scrape hard against the stone. A storm of sparks rose in its wake, showering the dry kindling piled up beside me. Thanks to the scorching sun, my pyre was ready for ignition.

Fwoosh!

Flames erupted, growing faster than expected. The bandit abruptly jumped away with a look of shock. If that was power, real power, I liked it. A cocky smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth. Taking a step back, I positioned the wall of flame between us like a shield. He could only attack from the sides now, so I just had to watch the fiery edges and run in the other direction. Easy.

The sun dimmed in the empty sky as the fire blazed, filling the area with heat and smoke. Everything around us grew darker, but I held my focus. Still on edge, I watched and waited for his next attack with a renewed grip on my sword.

"Think you’re smart, eh? But I ain’t afraid of a little fire!"

"Yeah! G-get that freak!" cheered his partner from the sidelines.

Freak? Who’s that mess calling a—?

My attention shifted to the jumpy creep and followed his gaze up. The big guy launched himself over the fire, smashing through the pyre’s summit. Mouth agape, he might have been roaring another battle cry.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum…

The thumping in my ears drowned out everything else except a low humming sound.

Shit! Move left! No! Go right! Maybe backwards?!

I didn’t know which way to dodge. Time was short, or it should have been. The brute hung in the air, frozen. It wasn’t just him, though. Everything—the fire, his companion, the world—was motionless. Something pressed pause on it all.

The sky grew even darker, as if the world’s light was being stolen. Faint lines ghosted around us, like loose strands of spider thread shimmering in the diminishing light. They weaved together and formed pulsing hexagonal patterns that constructed a dome with me at the center.

In a blink, it vanished.

Time snapped back to play, and the bandit’s guttural roar made me jump. He came right at me, cloaked in a billowing cape of flames licking at his body, with his blade aglow. No longer a simple brute, he was a monster—a blood-lusting executioner from hell.

I needed to act. My brain short-circuited. Of all the possibilities, I dodged the living guillotine by rushing headfirst towards the fire, only to hesitate at the last second. My body twisted in a last ditch effort to not burn alive. My legs tangled, and I hit the ground hard. Now in the pile of ash and cinders at the fire's base, I brushed away the scorching embers burning my flesh and my always worsening pajamas.

Thud!

The bandit crashed to the ground. He spun on his heel and trapped me between him and the blazing fire. He just kept coming. It was like the world hadn’t even frozen around us seconds before. Was I the only one that noticed?

Maybe I would have made a different choice, a better choice if I had more time to think clearly. A will for survival I never knew I had, full of desperation and panic, controlled my body like a puppet. I mindlessly grabbed handfuls of burning cinders and flung them frantically at his face.

A blood-curdling howl bellowed out of him. He must not have expected such a cowardly action. Even with my lackluster aim, some of it struck his beard. Fire quickly engulfed his face and blinded him.

Still acting purely on instinct, I latched onto the handle of my sword with hands full of fresh blisters. I swung without missing a beat. The blade caught him between his ankles. Already staggering and flailing, I knocked him off balance. He didn't stand a chance.

"N-no! Stop! Look out!"

I shouted warnings, but it was too late. He’d already fallen headfirst into the raging fire. Ash and embers swelled up around his intruding presence. The flames writhed and danced higher as it swallowed him whole.

Still too close to the fire, I scrambled away with my sword dragging behind me. Unable to do anything else, I turned my back on the crackling fire and his final cries for help. I curled into a quivering ball, shut my eyes, and clamped my head between my arms instead until it was over.

Everything stayed fresh in my mind, though. Nothing blocked out the gruesome scene. The sight of him falling, his screams, and even worse was… the smell of him burning. I could basically taste it. It was all too much. My stomach twisted, lurched, and up came my meager breakfast.