Torren broke out into a sprint, charging in a straight line towards Ellis.

It was typical, predictable, everything Ellis knew how to handle.

Torren stopped a few feet before Ellis; he planted his foot and swung wide with his sword.

Ellis decided to test himself. Rather than parry, which he could have easily done, he chose to stoop low and dodge the attack. He felt the wind move past his neck as the blade cut through the air. Ellis lifted his head up and saw the shock on Torren’s face.

Ellis couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Torren saw this and immediately pulled back and tried to swing again. This time, he was even slower than before, and Ellis decided to try something else. Ellis quickly stepped to the side as the blade swept through the space where he had been. He was now behind Torren. Before Torren could turn around, Ellis stuck his boot behind his back leg and shoved him forward. Torren lost his footing and fell onto the ground.

The crowd erupted in applause.

Ellis had never felt such excitement before. He was fighting and winning. He was doing the right thing —bringing a thief to justice— and people were cheering him on!

Amidst the roar of the crowd, Torren struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his knees until he was able to rise to a standing position. He dragged his forearm across his face, wiping away the dirt and sweat from his eyes. Whatever strength he had was almost completely exhausted— at this point, his body was moving on willpower alone.

Torren came at Ellis once more, but this time Ellis didn’t wait for an opportunity. He stepped in and cut his sword across Torren’s path, intercepting him before he’d even fully begun to swing. The force of Ellis’ strike knocked the sword out of Torren’s hands and it clattered to the ground.

There was another eruption of applause from the crowd.

“Thief!”

“Take his hand!”

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“Give him hell!”

Ellis kept his sword at the ready, waiting for the next attack. Instead, Torren fell suddenly to his knees, landing on his elbows and crying out with a mix of pain and exhaustion.

Ellis held his blade steady in the air.

“Get up.”

Torren couldn’t answer. He had no strength left to speak. It took all his effort to even continue breathing, drawing in one labored breath after the other. Finally, Torren collapsed onto the ground.

As Ellis stood there, unsure of what to do next, he heard the guardsman call out to him.

“What are you waiting for?”

The crowd took up the sentiment.

Ellis looked around at the cheering onlookers; each one with a look of excitement and intrigue. No longer fearful for their lives, they could simply stand by and enjoy the entertainment.

This is what happened to thieves.

Stealing was wrong, wasn’t it?

This was the justice of the world.

The strong punish the weak.

Ellis took a few steps forward, much to the excitement of the crowd, brandishing his sword as he went.

He kept expecting Torren to lash out at the last second, to try and tackle him or swing at him or to try something. But the closer her got, the more he became certain that it wasn’t going to happen. Torren was completely at his mercy. If he wanted to, he could drive his sword right through him and Torren would be powerless to stop it. Ellis looked over at the guardsman who gave him a firm nod.

Ellis lifted up his blade and held it above his head. He put the edge of his boot on Torren’s unmoving hand to hold it in place.

The crowd began to cheer louder, their excitement and anticipation building. The moment they had all been waiting for. Their thunderous call of affirmation beat in his ears like a drum and filled Ellis with a sense of purpose. He took in a sharp breath and braced himself.

With a swift motion, Ellis gripped the sword handle with both hands and cut through the air—

But something caught his eye.

As his sword seemed to move in slow motion through the air, he could feel something tugging at him from the edges of his vision.

There she was, watching him.

In a sea of cheering faces, her’s was the only one that stood out— the only one that mattered. And it was not a face of excitement or joy. Her’s was a face of pain and sadness; one that he knew all too well.

Within an instant, the sweet accolades of the mob turned sour and putrid; and Ellis fell, so far and so fast from his soaring height that he could barely endure it.