To Be a Hero

Kairan examined his to-be assailants. Six, none of which were well armoured, at least to his eyes, some thick clothes, nothing more. However, there was of course no shortage of weapons. Each was armed.

Don, the blonde one, carried a short sword, there was a glint of steel from his waist; Kairan spied several small knives tucked away in the man’s belt.

Their apparent leader, Kairan decidedly chose to call him simply the boss, was the best equipped. Likely he abused his status as their leader to lay claim to the better spoils, at least that’s the conclusion Kairan drew. How else did he manage to boast a leather cuirass, metal capped boots and a pair of gauntlets. His weapon of choice was a longsword. Kairan half expected to find some sort of adornments but found it a regular blade.

Next, a rotund man that wield a spear. It seemed comical in comparison to the boss. An overweight bandit dressed in rags holding what amounted to a sharpened stick. This one seems to be the type that always draws the short end of the stick. Regardless, Kairan acknowledged the spear with a great deal of caution more than the others. He’d been told once they were the king of the battlefield, now he supposed he’d see why.

Then the dwarf – Kairan was certain it was a dwarf; the man was short yet stocky with a square face and four fingers a hand – he was still preoccupied with trying to separate the girls from their mother. Kairan caught sight of an axe hanging from his belt. Second thoughts, he might be the biggest problem right after that archer.

Kairan couldn’t make out much of the archer, save for the bow and arrow trained on him. He chosen to obscure his identity with a piece of cloth.

Finally, there was last man. A foot taller than the rest of his compatriots, equipped with both a shield and a mace. Should have given him the spear. He stood some distance back from the group, not an ideal position to place the defender.

He never thought himself much of a tactician but couldn’t help but think they were a sloppy ensemble group with little experience. That gave him confidence. His chances were improving dramatically.

Kairan breathed deep through his nose before releasing a loud exhale. “Well, at least they can say I tried some diplomacy. Truth is, I can’t stand filth like you, especially now. Won’t kill you, but I’m going to break some bones. That is assured.”

The boss sighed, “Never expected a monster to try and play hero. What’s the world come to?”

Kairan’s smile vanished. His pack slipped from his shoulder.

“Don’t mock me,” he growled, quietly. His stance never shifted, he stayed upright, standing tall above them.

He lashed out, took hold of Don’s blade with his left hand, surprising the bandit. With control over the blade, Kairan stepped inwards and brought his right elbow to Don’s cheek. A stunning blow! Don’s grip waned before Kairan tore the sword from his grasp.

“Blackguard,” Don spat as blood dripped from his mouth. Kairan failed to mask his surprise; he didn’t expect the bandit to stay standing.

“Impressive resilience.” Maybe this would be so easy. He primed a second strike, this time hitting Don with pommel.

Just as the man was about to collapse Kairan grabbed him by the neck, hoisting him up – the newly formed bruise on his forehead glowing in the light.

The archer panicked, barely managing to redirect his arrow. It skimmed past Don, harmlessly.

Kairan smiled. Guess they do care about each other.

His muscles began to tighten as he lifted Don higher, then like how one would lob a large stone, he threw Don at his charging aggressor.

The rotund man fumbled and halted his charge to catch his friend.

Kairan shifted focus and clashed steel with the boss. Kairan opened with a light tap against the man’s raised blade. A bit of mockery but he used the instance to gauge his grip. The blade was light, weightless almost, but the feeling still awkward. They engaged shortly after. The bound family made noise, squealing as the fighting became uncomfortably close.

“Your swordsmanship is sloppy,” mocked the boss as he parried Kairan’s blow. “Your confidence doesn’t make up for a lack of skill.” He riposted, nicking Kairan’s fingers.

“Sloppy hey?” Kairan heaved all his weight into another wide swing; it left him vulnerable. The boss took advantage and stabbed him in the flank. “Best you can do?” Kairan grinned. The wound was shallow, barely noticeable. “A pathetic wound from a pathetic man.”

The dwarf and shield-bearer came to the boss’s aid and left Kairan on the defensive, yet the wild nature of his attacks forced them to be cautious. They held back, poking and prodding, retreating at first sign of counter-attack, never committing fully.

His graceless swings left much to be desired, but you could not deny the conviction behind each one. A glancing blow would likely spell catastrophe.

“If heroes are those that stand as the strongest, then I guess I really am one,” Kairan bellowed a taunt.

I can win. he thought. The immense weight behind each strike slowly turned the battle into his favour. Every block and parry bled away their strength.

I can win.

Kairan had turned into force unlike anything these men had ever encountered. The occasional hired guard was challenge yes, but even so they would eventually overcome it, be it through trick or reckless gambit. Yet, it took all of them to merely contend with this beast. The damnable myconid pretending to be a hero.

“What kind of freak smiles in the heat of battle,” the boss said, pitching his weight against the shield-bearer, helping to keep the man upright after blocking a kick from Kairan.

“One that’s very clearly winning!” Kairan ducked behind the coach as an arrow whizzed past.

As the boss attempted to turn the corner, Kairan struck out with a wide swing forcing the boss to retreat a step. Kairan’s blade became lodged in the side of the coach; in a rush he elected to abandon it.

“Even that damn archer ain’t working out for you!” Kairan yelled and slipped further behind the coach, grabbing the edge of its the roof.

The shield-bearer took a defensive position in front, slowly approaching the corner while the dwarf hung just behind the boss, ready to take a swing if Kairan came too close.

Suddenly from above, Kairan came. He’d used the coach as a boost by pulling himself onto its roof and then jumping.

The boss, too slow to move, took the brunt of Kairan’s aerial assault and the two crashed to the ground. He made sure to give the boss a punch in the nose just for good measure, then rolled off and jumped to his feet. The dwarf was forced to halt his attack and re-evaluate his position. He dodged an overhead swing from Kairan and made distance.

The boss was down for the time being, a good thing too as Don and the rotund man rejoined the fight, surrounding Kairan.

The dwarf clicked his neck and charged first; in response Kairan launched a wide low-kick. The dwarf anticipated it, pivoted and threw his shoulder into the path of the oncoming swing.

For Kairan it was like kicking a solid wall, pain shot through his ankle and up his shin.

The dwarf swung his axe, catching Kairan just below the knee. It forced him to backtrack and stumble. He’d left himself in the open now, no one between him and the archer. A sudden thwack rung in his ears. His chest tightened in panic; he looked down at the arrow sticking out of him.

How did he? I’m supposed to be stronger. Me!

Immediately, the shield man swung his mace, Kairan attempted a dodge – the mace glancing off his shoulder. Only to feel pain bite him in the lower hip. The tip of the spear pierced his flesh. He pulled himself off the spear by throwing himself at the shield-bearer, hoping his weight would knock the man off-balance, but it was no good and he rebounded.

There was another whiz before a second arrow embedded into his chest. He felt the air escape him as it struck.

A blade dug into his back. The spear pierced his flesh again.

Kairan stretched out a hand, trying desperately to grab anyone of the bandits.

The shield-bearer took advantage and with every bit of strength slammed his mace into Kairan’s face. The force brought him to a knee, and a second strike brought him to the floor.

They did not immediately halt their assault, only after a relentless battering, did they ease.

With his face in the dirt, Kairan became awfully aware of what was happening within his body. Sounds slowly stifled as his breathing speed up and got sharper. He could barely muster a grunt as the shock seeped in, and the pain erupted everywhere. His mind grew weary, and thoughts became difficult to form.

No! He spluttered a cough, this isn’t right. I can’t lose. I’m not supposed to.

“Is it dead?” huffed the rotund man.

“Mace to the head is good as dead, no?” replied the shield-bearer,

“Braun help the boss,” ordered Don, he flipped Kairan over then placed a foot on his throat, “Lay there like the mutt you are.” He raised the boss’s longsword with the tip aimed down, ready to execute the struggling creature beneath him.

In his periphery, Kairan spotted the cowering family. How the children clung to their mother’s dress like it was all some bad dream that would disappear if they closed their eyes. The mother kept her head bowed as she hugged her children, her mouth moved silently, likely praying for their safety.

His mind fought desperately to hold onto consciousness. I’m not weak...I'm not...