Forging Futures

Medrauta had no way of knowing what was going on in Leticia’s head during this final, pivotal moment.

However, her own mind was filled with an assorted stream of thoughts, all of them racing through her head at a breakneck pace. She devoted every iota of strength into this last strike of hers, weaving every memory and experience she possessed into the very metal that composed her blade.

Every muscle fiber in her body screamed out desperately, striving to achieve victory for the silver-haired knight. Medrauta could feel them straining to their utmost limits, offering all the strength they could muster in an effort to obtain their master’s desire.

Medrauta’s eyes were wide open, their sparkling blue shade vivid in the noonday sun. There was no need for her to narrow her eyes or squint, for she did not need to see far. Victory laid just ahead of her, right before the tip of her blade and right there for the taking.

In response to her exertions, the multitude of injuries that blemished Medrauta’s body cried out in strident protest, forcing Medrauta to acknowledge their presence. She felt hot blood trickle from her hip and down her thigh as she moved her torso, stretching the wound where Leticia had stabbed her earlier.

The gash widened, tearing like a grotesque and bloody grin, its form almost similar to that of a witch’s evil smile. Yet, Medrauta didn’t even wince. She would never allow a witch to instill fear in her again. Not fear, not pain.

There was no time for either. Everything she had, she dedicated to this single strike.

The corners of her lips curled upward as she flashed a ferocious smile reminiscent of a predator baring their fangs. Her sword hand tightened around the hilt, moving the weapon with precision that transcended mere mastery.

In that very moment, Medrauta and her blade were undeniably one and the same. all that she was existed on that gleaming sword, and that gleaming sword represented all that she was. She had attained the epitome of blade-body unity.

The peak of swordsmanship that all knights sought to achieve.

But she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

She knew that Leticia had also achieved such heights in this very moment. She understood very well what it was that drove her opponent’s blade and the stalwart resolution behind it. Leticia’s blade would not waver, nor would it miss its intended target.

In other words, Medrauta would lose in mere seconds despite her body and soul dedicating all it had to this single moment.

She couldn’t accept that. Not in front of her beloved Viviane.

Blade-body unity was considered the very zenith of swordsmanship. Once achieved, a knight towered above all others, looking down upon their peers mightily from on high. They had climbed all the mountains there were to climb. Seen all there was to see. But even so...

...It’s not enough. Medrauta thought. I need to be faster. Stronger. I must surpass the pinnacle—No. I will surpass the pinnacle.

Medrauta let out an earth-shaking roar as she drew upon the reserves of energy that still remained in her body without concern for her own safety. Her heartbeat strained and slowed. Her muscles contracted forcefully as she pushed them past their limits. Her very breath sucked in all the air around her, driving precious oxygen into her blood as her body desperately tried to keep up with her desires.

...Further!

Her field of vision expanded to encapsulate not just her opponent and the rapidly approaching point of their blade, but the strands of grass to the side that wavered ever so slightly in the wind, the countless specks of dust in the clouds of dirt that rose from her movement, and even the impossibly faint shimmer of summer air refracting sunlight.

In a single moment, Medrauta took in every seemingly insignificant fragment that composed the entirety of the world around her and connected them into one complete whole that laid bare the will of the world.

As Medrauta stared at the blade that would soon spell her defeat, her eyes wandered to the knight that wielded it. Leticia’s black hair streamed behind her, the myriad strands waving in the air like the banner of an approaching army. Her dark brown eyes glowed with determination, their iridescence reminiscent of an eclipse that sought not to hide the sun, but shield it from harm.

Leticia’s movements were straight and true. Guileless and flawless. Yet, her strike was not something that surpassed Medrauta’s level of bladework.

...Then why can’t I win? The answer to that question appeared in Medrauta’s head even as she asked it. Though it seemed obvious in hindsight, it was only after reflecting deeply on not only Leticia’s intentions, but her own that Medrauta understood the reason behind her inevitable defeat.

It wasn’t that Leticia’s skill had reached a level where Medrauta could no longer defend against. Rather, it was because of the sheer conviction behind Leticia’s attack that made it impossible to defend against. The feelings that Leticia had imbued into her blade were more than just emotions.

What she had infused into the gleaming steel of her weapon was a future. A future that carved a straight path through anything that dared stand in its way. A future that Leticia would grasp with her own hands no matter what the consequences were.

And Medrauta simply couldn’t deny that future to her.

But even so... I can’t lose. Medrauta grit her teeth. For a moment, she was overcome by the selfish desire to wrest victory at any cost, but she steeled her will and focused on the sword that was now no more than a mere inch away from her chest.

It was obvious that she should have simply allowed Leticia’s blade to pierce her and deal with the consequences later. After all, Leticia had pushed herself to her very limits despite only just breaking free from her depressed state.

She had found hope and a reason to fight at last. She saw a bright future ahead of her, one that she would never lose sight of again. Like a bright star, she deserved to shine her light upon the world.

But Medrauta simply couldn’t allow that. She could not allow herself to taste defeat while Viviane watched over her, nor could she simply grant Leticia victory. To do so would be dishonest and dishonorable, but neither could she claim victory. Medrauta understood that this strike that contained Leticia’s greatest hopes and dreams needed to land, but the black-haired knight would have to earn it.

Medrauta regarded her own blade. It described a gentle arc in the air, but its form was yet undecided. Would it become a cut or would it become a thrust? She still didn’t know. Compared to her formless attack, Leticia’s thrust had far more right to reside on this battlefield.

A blade that sought the future. A blade that had yet to decide on its future.

Both of them existed on the same battlefield, wielded by knights who possessed vastly different aspirations on the surface, but similar at their very core. The futures that they desired, the intense love that they held for their ladies...

...Medrauta understood exactly how Leticia felt. At last, she had made her decision. She flicked the tip of her blade forward, answering Leticia’s thrust with a thrust of her own. It was only right that a sword pointed forward when it sought to carve a path through fate.

Before when she had lost sight of who she was and what she wanted to become, Medrauta would have simply knocked aside Leticia’s blade without a second thought and cast the black-haired knight’s feelings into the abyss of combat as she drove forward and forged a path of devastation that annihilated all who dared stand in her lady’s wake.

It was a path that would grant her lady safety, that was sure. But that path also left an endless trail of destruction in its wake, something that Medrauta knew Viviane would never wish to walk on, regardless of its intent.

But now, she saw a different path. A path that weaved through obstacles instead of plowing straight through them. A path of harmony. A path where she could hold her head high while keeping one hand tight around her beloved Viviane’s.

A path she could be proud of.

The future, huh...? I suppose that’s it, isn’t it, Leticia? Medrauta smirked. If there isn’t a future we both desire, then I’ll just have to make one!

Medrauta twisted her body to the side just barely, allowing Leticia’s blade to graze her chestplate and pass by. She felt a cold, pinching sensation in her left shoulder, but she paid it no mind.

Medrauta’s eyes were focused on what was ahead of her.

There was no need to look elsewhere.

Her blade moved where it needed to be, and in an instant, the duel ended.

“...Well fought, Dame Leticia.”