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A Wish
Act 4 - Snow Dance

Act 4 - Snow Dance

“Dance every performance as if it were your last” – Erik Bruhn

  Stirred awake by a cold sensation pressing against his face, Janus sat up rubbing his arms to warm up his freezing body.

  Confused, he tried to surveil his surrounding only to stop once the headaches that kept ringing in his head became too much to bear.

  He tried rubbing his hand against his temple to ease the pain but that offered little relief. However, gradually, the headache faded away as he took a deep breath to calm himself before checking out his surroundings.

  “Where am I?” he wondered. His last memory was being trapped in his car prior to its destruction.

  Panicked, realizing what happened, he checked his body, searching for any trace of injury, trying to confirm if he was still alive but, surprisingly, as far as he could see, he was fine. There were no traces of injuries on his body nor any signs of damage to his clothes. They were as pristine as they were when he first put them on that morning.

  “Am I dead?” he thought to himself. “Where is this place?”

  After calming down and making sure he was okay, only then did Janus realize that he was alone, sitting in the snow, surrounded by a bamboo forest.

  He looked around but nothing in his immediate vicinity betrayed any hint as to where he is. His initial attempt at getting up only resulted in him losing balance from having his feet sunk deep into the snow and falling face first into the powdery ground.

  From the night sky, snow continued to fall at a steady pace and soon enough, small flakes of snow crystals started to accumulate on top of his head and his clothes. Attempting to keep his body and clothes as dry as possible, he brushed them off and begin to trudge forward.

  Janus did not know where he was going. He simply picked a direction and proceeded, hoping to find a clue as to where he was. His first few initial steps resulted in slow progress as his tired body struggled to push its way through the dense snowpack on the ground but, soon enough, he started to make steady progress through the snow.

  He pushed his way through the bamboo forest, finding the trunk of the bamboo trees strangely warm, despite being buried in several feet of snow. Janus attempted to push down a few trees to break its nodes in order to stuff his clothes to keep himself warm, but it was futile. Despite, several attempts, he found that, though fragile in appearance, the bamboo trees were quite sturdy, with him unable to shift them a single millimeter. Giving up on his original ideas, he settled for just breaking a few weak looking branches, filled the empty spaces in his clothes with them, and continued his journey.

  After some time, Janus began noticing that the forest was strangely quiet save for the rustling sound of his clothes as he walked through the snow. With each step, he could hear his own heart beats slowly growing louder, faster.

  Thump!

  It beat.

  Thump! Thump!

  It beat again. Louder and faster this time.

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  The sound grew into a rhythm.

  His body began to shake, not from the cold, but a primal fear he never knew. After walking for so long, the realization that he was truly lost, that no one was coming to help, and that this was the first time, in his entire life, that he was truly alone hit him like a ton of brick.

  Before, whenever he wandered out, he could always count on someone to come find him. At home, Lily was always by his side, keeping him company. For Janus, that sense of certainty had always been the basis of his identity, keeping him at ease.

  Now, within this snowy world, the awareness that he was now alone shook him to his core. It opened the door to the slow, creeping fear of the unknown that was starting to penetrate his mind. Slowly, it coiled around his body, wrapping its length around his legs, slithering up his chest and arms until Janus could feel its muscley body constricting around his throat.

  Terrified, he attempted to claw at it but to no avail. Its grip on him growing ever tighter. He coughed, gasping desperately to try and push as much air as he could into his lung, but it was useless. The coil grew tighter, and Janus collapsed onto the snow. His breathing became increasing more labored until even the visible small wisps of air coming from his mouth eventually disappeared.

  Exhausted, Janus could feel his mind giving up. Right now, above anything else, he just wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep. However, right before his grip on his consciousness slipped away, he heard it. A sound, ringing as clear as a bell, echoing from the shadow beyond wooded forest, made its way to him.

  Like a water droplet on a still surface of water, the sound rippled through his tired body, breathing life into his limbs where previously there were none. He pushed himself up, crawled forward in the snow, and closed his eyes, listening carefully to make sure it was not just his mind playing tricks on him.

  Clang!

  Again, the sound of metal rang in his ears.

  Clang! Clang!

  It was faster this time.

  Certain that there was something ahead, someone, his renewed legs carried him forward. He pushed his way through dense snow with ease as if they were as thin as paper. He could feel his heartbeat grew faster, pumping energy into all his limbs. He continued to make his way easily through the forest, toward the source of the sound, as though the trees themselves were moving apart, making a path for him, guiding his way forward.

  Eventually, Janus found himself stumbling out of the forest and onto a hilltop. The blanket of virgin snow now gave way to a landscape littered with black, jagged rock. Steadying himself, Janus tried to stand up only to lose his footing against the slippery surface, sending him tumbling down the hillside, crashing against a large rock at the bottom.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Janus screamed from the collision, the pain ripping through all his senses. He felt his bone cracked as his left arm slammed against the rock while shards of stone dug into his stomach. Gritting his teeth, trying to ride out the pain, he forced himself to stand up, his left arm falling limply at his side, his right gripping it, trying to keep it in place.

  Filled with cuts, a miserable sight compared to just moment before, he dragged himself forward, across the rocky plain, driven by a single goal, as droplets of blood dripped from his wounds and onto the ground below, marking his path.

  When he finally arrived at the source of the sound, the sight that greeted him was vastly different from what he expected. There, across the rock filled plain, where blades of grass began to peak out from beneath the thin layer of snow, he saw a man and a woman standing across from one another, weapons drawn.

  On Janus’ right was a large man, dressed in simple clothing, his knee bent, body leaning slightly forward, his face hidden by an animal pelt draped over his torso. His arms, bursting with muscles and decorated by scar was gripping a three-pronged spear, pointing it at a woman across from him. His legs, like trees, planted firmly on the ground, grinding the pebbles beneath his feet into dust.

  Facing him down was a lithe woman. With one arm resting to her side and the other, outstretched, she held an unadorned sword with only a piece of cloth acting as a grip. She stood firm, her body relaxed, as if the man presence did not trouble her in the slightest.

  To Janus, she was the one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen and yet, despite that, every inch of her body exuded the feeling that she was the very incarnation of death. Her silver eyes, half hidden by her white hair that stretched to her hip, betrayed no sign of emotions as she stared at the man in her front of her. In the dawn of the morning sun, her pale white skin exuded a strange kind of mysterious charm, restrained only by the snow white one-layer hanfu dress she wore, hugging every curve of her body.

  She was, in Janus’ eyes, a strange combination of divine and cursed.

  The two sides continued to stare at one another until the morning sun rose over the treetop, and then, with lightning speed, the man made his move. Muscle taunt he sprung forward, spear at the ready. He unleashed a series of thrusts with his trident, aiming for her face, her neck, and the center of her body. In response to the incoming attack, the woman stepped backward, using her blade to deftly parry his spear aside. The sound of their weapons colliding echoed through the field.

  After a series of successive thrusts, the man pulled back his spear to once more readied his stance. Seeing an opening, the woman unleashed a series of attack of her own. She proceeded forward through a storm of strikes unleashed by the man, dodging, and parrying as needed before releasing a swing of her own down on his shoulder. Attempting to block her attack, the man quickly halted his strikes to grab his spear with both hands, raising it above his head to meet the upcoming sword as the two weapons collided.

  The woman, face still betrayed no hint of any expression, continued to push her sword down at the spear, aiming to break it in half. The man, struggling to keep the sword away from his body was forced to his knee before being sent sliding away by a well time kick to his chest.

  After managing to create some distance, the man stood up, pounded his chest with his fist before coughing out of a bit of blood from his mouth.

  “I think I might’ve bitten more than I can chew,” Janus thought he could make out the faint voice of the man from a distance.

  Once more, the man charged forward. Using one hand, he sent another thrust at the woman’s body only for her to parry the attack upward and using that opening to quickly move closer to the man. Smiling, as if he foresaw this, the man let go of his spear, allowing the momentum of her parry to carry it into the air and then unleashing a punch at her head with his right first while pushing aside her blade with his left.

  Using her free hand, the woman reached out and grabbed the incoming attack, stopping it in its track. Initially shocked that his punch was blocked so easily by a woman half his size, the man quickly regained his composure before using his other hand to grab his falling spear, slamming it downward, toward the woman’s head.

  Seeing the attack coming, the woman tightened her grip on the man’s hand before shifting her body slightly to the side, allowing the spear to pass millimeters from her body, before landing harmlessly on the ground. Then, she quickly raised her foot and stomped on the base of the spear’s blades, keeping it in place.

  Watching the result of the exchange, Janus was at a loss for words. The adrenaline pumping through his body was numbing his pain. Though he knew that size does not equate to power, he did not expect that the woman would dominate her opponent so easily.

  Through it all, the woman’s facial expression never changed. She maintained the same blank stare that she had when he first saw her. She dodged the man’s attack as if it was natural, gliding through each motion, the sleeves of her dress trailing her steps, riding in the wind, creating the illusion that she was simply dancing through it all.

  “I give up,” Janus heard the man said as he let go of his spear and raised his hands in surrender.

  The woman, unmoved by the man’s words, moved her sword and pointed it straight at his neck.

  Accepting that his fate was inevitable, the man nodded and close his eyes. “Make it quick,” he said.

  In one motion, the woman swung her sword and decapitated his head, grabbing it as it flew and holding it above her head as if she was holding a trophy. Blood dripped from the man’s severed head and onto her dress, dying it a crimson red while blood spurted from his body, dyeing the snow beneath.

  Terrified at the sight, Janus began to slowly move backward, taking small steps, trying to make as little sound as possible in the hope that the woman would not notice him. However, luck was not on his side.

  Tossing away the severed head, the woman turned her attention toward him. The ghostly maiden he saw before was now replaced by a monster dye in red. With her previously white dress fully transformed into crimson, she stared at him with a pair of ruby eyes and hair that were beginning to turn into a ghastly shade of black.

  She raised her blade and pointed it in his direction and rushed at him, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

  Desperately trying to run, Janus turned around, forcing his legs to move as fast as they could only for his knees to give out from fatigue as he fell onto the ground, the pain in his broken arm shooting through his entire body.

  Realizing that her blade was now only a few feet from him, Janus gave up trying to get away. Unwilling to show such an unsightly appearance at the very end, he turned around and stared into her eyes, trying to engrave the image of his would-be killer into the deepest recess of his mind. However, before his death would come to pass, the woman’s sword collided with a transparent shield that appeared before him, knocking it away.

  “That’s a good face you’re making there,” he heard a clear voice from behind him say. “A man ought to always be ready to face down death.”

  Janus turned around to see a large, muscular woman walking toward his direction. Her blue eyes stared directly at him while her long golden hair was tied into a ponytail, swinging behind her as she walked. Her body was covered in white, decorated armor; a blue cape tied to her shoulder, imprinted with a face of a roaring dragon. In her hands, she wielded a pair of ornately decorated great swords that were as long as she was tall and twice as wide as his arm.

  Walking past him, he could hear her say the word “Heal”, before green light enveloped his body, closing all his wounds.

  “I don’t have the skill to fix that left arm of yours, so we’ll have to leave that for later. This should be enough to keep you alive. Name's Iris Perisaub. Nice to meet you.”

  “Janus Silverlake,” he returned her greeting.

  “Stay still for now. I need to deal with her first,” Iris said.

  Nodding his head, he watched as she walked toward the woman who had retreated a bit of a distance upon seeing a new enemy.

  “Don’t get in my way,” the woman said in a low guttural voice.

  “Can’t do that. We both know we need him alive,” Iris replied as she readied her twin swords.

  “You’ll die with him then.”

  “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Iris replied, her face grinning. “Let’s get started.”