A Final Showdown! Arata Vs Saxon

Moments past like a lifetime, with only the sway of the grass to remind her that she was still in the land of the living.

She lay on her stomach beside the beast she had slayed. Martel was finally lifeless, a broken shard of her blade still embedded in his throat. Through the one eye he had remaining she could see nothing. Like that of a fish’s eye. His mouth was agape, the red grass next to it still - confirming his end.

For a brief moment she saw a twitch, saw a future of him regaining his senses and clutching her again - crushing her until the sensation became numb, and the light turned to nought.

She lay there as the rain began to fall, looking beyond Martel - to the future she had once wanted, but could no longer reach for.

Eventually her legs had the strength to lift her. With the support of her now broken spear, she limped into the darkness, headed for the final terminus.

*-*-*

Arata rushed for the treeline but ahead of him the bushes fluttered unnaturally. He was there, the assassin.

Mayumi used her strength to fire a wayward arrow that got lost in the greenery, no signs of impact. Arata then began to draw in the air but Saxon appeared like a flicker - flashing the knife along the pen and just missing the artist’s finger, but forcing him to drop his weapon. The impact knocked Arata to his back but he rolled through and ran the opposite way, picking his pen up as he went.

Saxon chased slowly, sauntering instead of sprinting - like it was a thing to enjoy. Until he suddenly stopped beside Mayumi who at this point was lying flat in a pool of her own blood. Arata was already far enough away that Saxon had lost track of him but that did not bother him at all.

“I thought he was supposed to be your back up?” Saxon mocked.

She couldn’t even bite back, she didn’t have the strength to anymore. Her eyes wandered to the darkness and there, she saw Arata - head low to not reveal his position to Saxon. He looked so helpless, wanting so desperately to jump in and patch her up but he had no chance.

Saxon looked back to the forest and smiled, a wicked plan formed in his mind. “Sir Penman. I’d love to chase you there but unfortunately we don’t have much time I’m afraid.” Of course, he knew he had more than enough time to find and eviscerate Arata, he just wanted to watch him squirm. “Tell you what. If you don’t come back in three seconds… I’ll end your friend.”

For a moment his body betrayed him, taking the step he knew he shouldn’t take. Then he saw her, looking him in the eye - without a word he heard her. “Run.”

“3” Saxon eagerly counted.

…

“2” A bloodthirsty grin formed.

…

“...1.” Spoken more sharply than the dagger that dug into Mayumi.

Arata closed his eyes… and Mayumi was gone. She sank into the black, becoming a pool of ink that stained the dirt.

*zzzt*

“The siren?” Saxon queried, now looking at the ink on the ground confused. “Were you actually a competitor?”

“World Eater Martel, The hammer, has been eliminated.” The announcement rang out. From the centre of the forest, the lights above made it look like daytime - the face of the monster they had been running from since the very beginning, now crossed out forever.

“Hmm, didn’t expect that…” Saxon commented.

As he did, Arata celebrated as quietly as he could. “She did it!” He cheered. “I can bring her here! That way we can fight Saxon together… I-” His pen was in his hand as his mind clicked. She was already beyond her limits when he had left to find Mayumi. Should she suddenly have to fight this foe, she’d be in the same danger he found himself in.

No, he needed to wait until the portal opened, only then could they escape Saxon’s twisted justice.

For now, he just needed to survive. The time had him tearing up. Six minutes remaining, six long minutes of hiding, and hoping. He still had his pen…

Memories of his time as Reinhardt overflowed. The loss of Leona particularly, and her revival. The moment he thought of it, his pen hit the floor. “You knew you’d be back, didn’t you, Mayumi? That’s why you wanted me to run…” He thought he had worked through the pain of it but tears still stung his eyes as he traced her figure into the dirt.

Looking up as much as he could allowed him to see Saxon disappear into the tree line on the opposite side to himself. He had the time to add in the detail, but when the grass nearby rustled he gave up and continued running - keeping himself as low to the ground as he could.

Saxon eventually found the tracings on the ground, realising the true power behind Arata’s ability and kicking away the line work so that Arata couldn’t return to finish his work. Once he was happy with the destruction he continued his slow, methodical chase.

“Can’t get too far from the portal.” Arata told himself. Time was still ticking, running further and further from the heart of the forest was a great way to ensure he’d be stuck in this world… of course, Saxon knew this as well - he’d be expecting it, practically drawing a radius at the maximum distance from the portal, and narrowing his search area to a frighteningly small part of the forest. Unfortunately, Arata knew he had no other option. He stopped where he was, seeing the time tick just past five minutes remaining - and quickly summoned a few traps, and soldiers. In the area he was in, there was a small gap between trees, perfectly plausible for another one to be. So, he drew a hollow tree trunk around himself, as detailed as he could - but with a stone like wall in the core just in case Saxon saw through the ruse.

All he needed to do now was look through the gaps he had left in his new shell, draw a few fakes - and send them to the other side of the forest. Saxon would follow them none the wiser, and as time ticked down he needed only to draw Elara and Mayumi, and escape before Saxon could reach them.

Steam blew out his nose, and a smug smirk formed on his face - so astounded by the plan he had made. “Sometimes my genius is… it’s almost frightening!”

While he stood there proud, Saxon sauntered past and instantly made Arata shudder. The assassin didn’t seem to notice him though, instead just walking past.

Arata’s soldiers were further along, and Saxon gathered that his prey was close by. The ink splattered quickly, and the traps set were all practically useless - more entertainment for Saxon than an annoyance. Unfortunately for Arata… his plan to keep Saxon at bay, was having the adverse effect. Drawing clones now, while he monitored the area so closely - would be like body popping next to a bear that was, in air quotes, a tad famished. In the words of a good author friend, paraphrasing ever so slightly “it’s a good way to get ya ass ate… and not the fun way.”

Almost laughing at his own stupidity, Arata almost jumped out of his wooden cocoon as Saxon walked past - so close he had to hold his breath. Still, he was well hidden…

…

“Didn’t realise armour came in wood style…”

The knife dug through the bark and stopped just short of Arata’s eye, and the artist was as close as he ever had been to witnessing his own soul go AWOL.

Another stab that broke through the upper crust, and another in less than a second. A reckless flurry of stabs that got deeper each time. He didn’t have the chance to draw the clones and catch Saxon’s attention now, he already knew where the main body was.

Slowly he was carving the tree away like one slices through cake. He was opening a loot box that actually had a prize he wanted inside…

There was no way out now. But Arata had a new idea, one he had no confidence of it working or not - but it was a good a time as ever to test it.

He’d kept some scrap paper, now using it to draw scenery he saw earlier on - deeper into the forest, closer to Elara. Then, he drew himself. “Scale of it doesn’t matter!” He told himself. “If there’s one thing as fundamental as the basics of art, its perspective!”

His hands clasped together as his energy formed, his life riding on a wish now. “Please!” He screamed.

*-*-*

When he next opened his eyes, he would either be staring at a new area - with his clone switching places, and now being brutally sliced open… or he would be up a brown creak with no paddle.

Slowly, unsurely, his eyes crept open like that of a giant wooden door in a horror flick.

Green grass, tall trees… and not a murderer in sight.

Saxon buried his knife into Arata’s chest, but instead of the warm red he lusted for, only ink splurged out. “What?!” He gasped. He looked around, baffled by the sudden switcharoo.

As he did, Arata took full advantage.

“Time to be reborn…” The flash of his magic erupted once more, and her figure pulled itself from the art.

Mayumi made her return.