An Alley, or a Piste?

Mia took a half-step back as the thuggish man gave her an evaluating state. It wasn’t a defensive movement. This was a fencing stance. By moving her left shoulder back, she’d placed herself so that her body partially hid her rapier, too, aided by the loose clothing she currently wore. Her right hand gripped the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice.

“Black hair, pale skin, Rathish eyes…looks like she’s mixed, to me. Mid-twenties, I’d say. Probably a noble’s bastard. Either she slipped away from her guards or her daddy didn’t feel like taking care of her anymore,” the man identified as a slave catcher summarized.

“Quite good. Capture her, but make it quick. If worst comes to worse we can hand her over to her father’s guards to win a favor or two, but I’d prefer to bring her home with me. And I have another recent acquisition I still haven’t had time to sample waiting for me,” the man Mia took as a noble instructed.

“You heard the man, boys. Get her. But try not to damage her face too badly,” the thug ordered.

“Just to be clear,” Mia interrupted as the men started towards her. The alley wasn’t very long, but she still had a few moments before they got close enough to attack. “You want to…make me a slave?”

“That’s right. Don’t blame us. Blame your daddy for not doing a better job protecting you,” the slave catcher replied. Mia nodded. Then she drew the freshly dubbed Thuận Thiên with a flourish. Immediately the men creeping closer to her looked less confident, but their leader was quick to encourage them. “She’s just a spoiled noble kid. No matter how much she’d played around with that sword, ain’t no way she’s a fighter.”

Nodding along in agreement, the man closest to Mia raised his truncheon and lunged. Before Mia’s commands could even reach her arm, the world suddenly slowed to a stop. No, not a stop—he still appeared to be moving, but much slower than before. She realized this must have been the goddesses’ second boon in action…and scoffed.

Mia didn’t need help winning this fight.

With that singular thought in mind, Mia focused on turning off whatever boon had just activated. Given that she’d only just learned she had this ability, she didn’t even know where to start. But it was a part of her now. This ability belonged to her, and it would only activate when she needed it to—

Abruptly, the man accelerated into motion again. Without a second thought, Mia flicked her wrist, batting aside his club. Then she drew her sword back, pressing the blade lightly against his newly-exposed wrist. His tendons parted with hardly any resistance. The truncheon clutched in his fist tumbled to the ground, his fingers no longer able to close around it.

“…huh?”

“En garde!” Mia shouted to psych herself up as she pushed off with her left leg, lunging with her right. By the time the first man finished processing his injury she’d already buried her sword in the shoulder of the thug beside him. Then she retreated, always careful to keep her legs from crossing.

These slave catchers had thought they’d backed her into a corner, but in reality they’d pursued a rapier fencer into an alley hardly wider than a competition piste. They could only approach her two at time at best. This wasn’t their battlefield, it was hers.

“What’re you idiots standing around for? Outta the way!” another man declared, shoving the wounded men aside. In Mia’s eyes, however, he looked just the same as the others. Just another guy with a club. He gestured to his partner, then to Mia. “Come on, she can’t take us both at once.”

“Yeah, yeah. Boss better not blame us if we gotta smack her in the face to settle her down, though,” the other man replied.

More cautious than the previous two slave catchers, these two advanced together, watching Mia carefully. She advanced towards them even more slowly. By sliding her feet and approaching side-on, she made it difficult for them to tell she was moving at all. Before they even realized it, they were already in range of her sword.

Starting with the man to her right, Mia slashed at his wrist lightly, intending only to cut his tendons like she had the first man. In the heat of the moment she forgot the goddess’s words. Her sword parted the man’s hand from his wrist with as much difficulty as cutting a leaf in two. The severed limb dropped to the ground with a thud, blood spraying from his wrist.

“Wha—hyargh!?”

Ignoring the now left-handed slave catcher, Mia turned her attention to the other man. He’d reacted the moment she moved her sword and was already mid-swing. But a weapon as light as a rapier wasn’t about broad slashing motions; it was all about the wrist. When she slashed at the man on her right, all she’d needed to do was pivot her wrist. Bringing it back into a guard position took just as little effort.

Shock ran across the man’s face as the blade he’d assumed out of position rapidly snapped back into place to intercept his strike. Rather than take the blow head-on, Mia caught it at an angle, drawing a circle with her sword as she both swept the truncheon aside and repositioned her sword beneath the man’s wrist. His eyes went wide. He’d already realized what was about to happen.

With purpose this time, Mia flicked her sword upwards, severing his forearm just below the elbow.

Nothing remained before her now but four groaning, crippled men and their two bewildered superiors. Mia’s eyes fell upon them next. At the same time, memories rushed through her mind of a childhood she’d long since left behind. Of a time before she took up a sword and learned discipline. A time when she’d wielded a branch to beat down playground bullies that were picking on a child whose name she didn’t even know.

Right. That’s who Mia was. Not someone who hesitated in the face of injustice or quibbled about the risks of getting involved. When had that ever stopped her before? She’d just…forgotten at some point, becoming too wrapped up in being the best, in winning, to care about anything else.

“Two left,” Mia observed, regarding the ringleaders through sharp eyes.

“This bitch is crazy!”

“I’m out of here!”

“Hey, where do you think you’re going!? Get back here!” the so-called master slavecatcher shouted as his men pushed past him. “Fuck! I gotta do everything myself around here. Fine, then. Sorry, boss, but I can’t let this one go. Not after she hurt my boys like that.”

“It’s a shame, but do as you must,” the nobleman said with a sigh. Clearly even after Mia’s display of prowess they still had reason not to worry. She grew wary, lowering her stance in preparation.

“Cut this!” the slavecatcher declared, and with speed rivalling lightning, a pistol appeared in his hand.