“That woman is goddamn insane…” Owl whined as he ran, with sweat trailing down his bald head, breathless and on the brink of collapse – his physical state was even worse than Rupert, a cripple.
“Yes, yes… Insane, all of them. Now stop your winging before you drive us all insane, too.” Rupert lashed out while running ahead of everyone else despite his one wooden leg. The normally meek boy has been rather on edge ever since they joined the Firstkind – even though it was his idea to do so.
“Don’t speak to your friend like that. Not very nice of you, stick-kid,” Blueyard scolded Rupert as if he were a teacher. The lanky man was running behind them all, but it didn’t look like he was even trying, yet he was still able to keep up with them. Wrapped to his back was a long and thin item swathed in dark cloth that Blueyard was charged with carrying due to him being the tallest of them all.
I can’t believe they still have the energy to argue during this time… Evens mumbled while running in the middle of the bunch. His body felt slightly tired – it seemed his injuries hadn’t fully healed yet. If only Scrapper was still here to keep him company, but the mutt was handed over to Callen Wyck, as the mission they were tasked with would be too dangerous for him.
The day began early for them. The Sentinels abruptly arrived ahead of what Frou told them, and now they had to comply with the plan – regardless of whether they were prepared or not.
Evens and his friends have been running since morning, carefully watching their steps while cladded in dark cloaks, eluding the clutch of the Blacks lurking about every corner of the City of Colours – even though it was their mission to be apprehended by them. It’s not so easy… Evens’s head hurt just thinking about it – that lunatic Chief could not just tell someone to go back in captive after they just escaped from it.
The whole city was in turmoil. The once vibrant and merry streets have turned to blaze, with its establishments closed off and residents desperately fleeing back to their homes. The once-sweet scents of wine and perfume have been masked away by the nauseating stench of smoke and blood. Humans, ecliants, and steelborns alike were being subjected to the Blacks’ scrutiny – either for interrogation, arrest, torture, or outright execution. This sight was the same as in Screwpile. The Blacks promised safe refuge and evacuation for innocent folks, yet from what Evens could see, their valiant efforts were few and far between compared to their committed atrocities. Damned monsters… Evens gnawed his teeth.
“How longer do you mean for us to run, Peg?” asked Owl with bated breath.
“We need to find the best circumstance to be captured. One misstep or suspicion, and they’d kill us on the spot.”
“You really thought this through, didn’t you? Wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve traded your foot for Ark’s mind itself – or whatever else,” Blueyard jested.
“Just keep it down, will you? I’d rather we not attract more attention than we need to.” Rupert said, even though his wooden foot was making an awful lot of stridor whenever it hit against the stone pavement.
They kept on running and running. At times, they hid away in alleyways. At times, they blended in alongside the fleeing mass. At times, they sprinted hastily away upon being noticed by patrolling Sentinels. This whole ordeal was exhausting for Evens. He had lived his entire life under the thumbs of steelmen, but he never had to run from them – it was a new brand of humiliation that he had never felt before.
“How are you feeling, patch-lad? Still hurt all over?” asked Blueyard as he ran – the gangly man did not seem to be exhausted of energy at all.
Be careful not to drop that… Evens stared at the long pole strapped to Blueyard’s back, bouncing up and down with each of his steps. “I’m fine,” Evens answered, though that was only half-true. There were still spots that were sored, but it was nothing he had not handled his entire life – with his scarry body and all.
“Good, good. A growing boy like you ought to be as strong as an ox,” Blueyard clapped his bony hands.
I’m not a boy anymore, Evens clicked his tongue.
“Though a strong body is great for a boy, but a clear mind is great for a man. Have you come to terms with all of this?” Blueyard tilted his head. Behind long white bangs, his blue eyes stared eerily at Evens’s brown eyes. His pale face was so thin and sunken that Evens felt it could slip off his neck at even the gentlest of movement.
“It is what it is. I owe them my life. I do not like to be in someone else’s debt.” Evens explained. If not for Stelie and Callen’s endorsement for him to receive medical assistance from the Firstkind, the odds of him surviving until this day would have been unlikely.
“Well then, aren’t you in my debt as well?” Blueyard reminded Evens of the incident on the night of the Firstkind’s ambush.
“That doesn’t count.” Evens dodged the creep’s stare.
“Why not? I almost burned to death for you boys, and even that’s not enough?”
Evens was stumped for words. He hated that the man made a point he could not refute. If Blueyard did not do what he did that night, Evens doubted he would have survived against the meteras ape. “Fine. I’ll pay you back one of these days.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” Blueyard grinned as if he already knew Evens would have answered as such.
Good grief… Evens sighed, one could only take so much when surrounded by three pieces of work. Yet, a big handful they may be, Evens would much rather be by their sides than alone for this mission. “Even though I’m making this offer for the Firstkind – I couldn’t help but find this entire thing terribly confusing.”
“How so? Seems pretty obvious to me.” Blueyard scratched his head, nearly tearing off his thin silver strands from just a mere touch. “Infiltrate the enemy territory, gather information, and plant seeds for further operations. That’s about as common for warfare as they come.” The eery man lectured Evens as if it was a common teaching that any normal folk would know.
“I suppose… But if so, why go through all this commotion? This whole infiltration could’ve been done secretly, without causing any uproar and making it harder for themselves,” Evens, too, scratched his own head, his fingers grazing past his dark curly hair, touching even the old scars that were embedded on his scalp. “They could have ended the war before even starting it.”
“Perhaps for hatred… Perhaps for conviction... Perhaps for declaration... Perhaps for oath…” Blueyard listed the many reasons out. “Or even for ego, perhaps… Have you seen the Chief? You honestly think an ostentatious woman like her would be satisfied with staying under the shadow of her siblings?” Blueyard scoffed.
“So it’s ego then… Such a stupid reason for war.” Evens muttered, though his own ego has also led him to make many decisions he wasn’t proud of.
“You haven’t heard the half of it, patch-lad. Men would wage war and commit all manners of atrocities from a mere bad summer’s day. Reasons are often rationalised from the outcomes,” Blueyard’s pace slightly slowed down as he talked, perhaps the fatigue has finally caught up to him. “There’s no end to men’s stupidity.”
“What about a woman then?” asked Evens as a joke.
“They are just as stupid as us. They merely hide it better.” Blueyard chuckled strangely like a freak – Evens doubted that he, of all people, would know much about the hearts of women.
As strange as ever, Evens grumbled, at least if nothing else, he knew Blueyard’s eccentricity would remain the same.
“Watch out!” Rupert shouted out, his voice doing its damnedest to distinguish itself from the wails of residents and grunts of rebels and tyrants.
What? Evens hastily looked forward – but there was nothing. What is he talking about? Evens thought until his ears caught a particular sharp sound falling from above, like an eagle diving down the sky. What is that? Evens gazed his head up, putting his hand over his eyes to shield them from the blinding sun – but it didn’t seem he needed to, as something large descending from the sky was hiding the sun from him. Is that… Evens could not believe what he was seeing; he had to squint his eyes twice just to make sure.
It was a person – a human. A body about the size of a regular adult male was flung across the sky as if launched from a catapult. The body’s limbs flailed about as he descended as if they had turned to jelly. The shooting meteor made from flesh caught the eyes of everyone amidst this battlefield – before at last landing, right in front of Evens and his friends. The sound it made as it hit the ground was that of manure being splattered. Blood and guts splashed in all directions – if not for their cloaks, Evens would have been dowsed in innards. The poor lad’s entire spine was crumpled, and his upper torso crushed wholly as it slid across the ground like a cheese to a grate. The corpse, or at least half of what was left of the corpse, had an orange cloth tied to his thigh – the colour of the Firstkind.
What… What happened to him? Evens panted while staring at the sight before him, the corpse’s legs could be seen still twitching slightly. Evens had never seen a man die like that before, falling so high from the sky – he shuddered to think what manner of monster could have done such an act.
“This way…” Blueyard whispered to the rattled lads; he did not seem terribly shocked at the gruesome sight. He ducked behind a wall, and the three boys followed his steps like a bunch of ducklings. “Well, would ya’ look at that. A battle of two beasts. Quite a rare sight, I don’t see often.” He whistled while sticking his head slightly out of the cover – wherever he was looking at must have been the place that poor man was flung off from.
“What’s going on?” Rupert, too, tilted his face out to watch whatever was ensuing.
“Is that Abraham? And who’s the other guy?” Owl poked his bald head out.
That brute is here? Evens thought – he was sure that Abraham was tasked by Frou to leave the city already. Eventually, he succumbed to his own curiosity, and not wanting to be left out of the group – he, too, peeked his eyes out of the corner and gazed upon the sight lay on the other side. No… What is he doing here? Evens gulped as sweat began to trail down his tanned and scarry skin. His limbs shivered, and his body ached at the mere glimpse. Abraham, alongside two other Firstkind rebels, was engaging in a battle in the middle of an empty street surrounded by flames and corpses against the one man that Evens never thought he’d see again.
The man was a giant, even larger than Abraham. Head and eyes of gold. His face paled, and unbothered to anything thrown at him. He had no weapons nor armour. On his burly body was no more than a blood-covered gambeson – though it did not look like his blood. By his feet were five corpses of fallen Firstkind rebels – their limbs twisted and bodies crushed, as though a bear had mangled them with its bare paws.
“That’s the Prime Sentinel…” Evens muttered, he’d remember that taciturn figure for the rest of his days.
“The what!?” Both Owl and Rupert squealed in unison. Luckily, both of their mouths were gagged by Blueyard’s hands before they gave away their hiding spot.
“So that’s the man you fought against, patch-lad? To think you’d survive an encounter against that man. You’re truly magnificent.” Blueyard praised Evens.
“I survived, yes. But trust me when I say it was no fight.” Evens mumbled. But next time… I swear… He tightened his fists before returning his attention to the ensuing battle between the lone ecliant against the Firstkinds.
Abraham was wielding his warhammer, but now, it seemed to serve him no more than a mere walking cane – as he planted the hammer down to the dirt, using it to hold his crumbling body standing. The two other Firstkind rebels, a man armed with a sword and a woman with a bow, were cowering behind Abraham.
Despite the rebels’ struggle, the Prime Sentinel, on the other hand, did not have even a single sweat on his forehead.
“If you wish to surrender, you may. But do remember – that your companions have fought bravely.” The Prime Sentinel spoke out, pointing down at the corpses of Firstkind rebels littered in his path.
Did he kill all of them by himself? Evens held his breath – to think that a man would not only be able to fend off a horde of nine attackers alone but also without any weapon of his own.
“Ark damn it all… Frou didn’t lie after all…” Abraham panted as he struggled to lift him up straight. “Seems like I overestimated… This plan’s a failure… Just run already…” He commanded his two remaining men.
The swordsman at last stepped in front of the tired Abraham. “Absolutely not. You did not leave us – so now, just leave it to us, Abe. We’ll hold him off for now. So hurry and get your shit together, so we can kill his ass.” He bravely held his thumb up.
The bowwoman, too, took a step forward. “Yes, we’ll buy you some time.” She meekly nodded her head, clutching onto her bow so as to not drop it.
Abraham widely opened his eyes as if in disbelief. “Who am I to say no… Go for it then, ya’ runts.” He smirked briefly.
Upon receiving Abraham’s blessing, the rebel armed with a sword began to charge towards the ecliant while the bowwoman stayed behind to cover his rear. It was a direct attack – straight and predictable; even Evens could have seen it coming. The Prime Sentinel did not move from his spot, perhaps waiting for the rebel to come within distance before counterattacking. The closer the swordsman encroached, the heavier and more awkward his footsteps became.
Oh, so that’s what it is… Evens gasped, having realised the rebel’s plan – though that was only because he was seeing the battle from a spectator’s view.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The swordsman was only a step away from the Prime Sentinel. His sword lifted to the sky, priming to descend down upon his foe – yet it never came. The swordsman abruptly crouched over to the ground as if he was ducking an attack – yet not from the Prime Sentinel, but from the bowwoman. It was merely a feign from the swordsman to use himself as a distraction and cover for the bowwoman behind him from afar. With his head stooped down low, the bowwoman released an arrow straight forward to where the swordsman once stood and faced the Prime Sentinel. The arrow left the bowstring and surfed the wind – yet again, it never reached its target.
Are you kidding me? Evens was baffled as to what he was seeing – surely Ark was playing tricks on his eyes.
The arrow that was shot never reached flesh – or at least never pierced it. It was lodged within the grip of the Prime Sentinel’s hand, merely an inch away from piercing his head. He deftly caught the arrow barehanded, and his face seemed unfazed to it all – though it could not be said the same for the bowwoman and the swordsman.
The bowwoman squinted her eyes repeatedly, unwilling to believe this daydream. The swordsman had his eyes and mouth agape, choking on his own words. Abraham, too, had no snarky words to say like usual.
With his plan failing, the swordsman tried to stab the Prime Sentinel’s heels from down low, but the attempt was quickly ruined by his foe stepping onto his blade – leaving the swordsman unable to pull his sword out of the Prime Sentinel’s heavy step.
The swordsman wasted no time to abandon his sword and unsheathed another one by his waist. He then lunged back up and desperately flailed his sword at the Prime Sentinel. Yet before his blade could even touch its target, with the same arrow that was supposed to kill the Firstkind’s enemy – the Prime Sentinel plunged the arrow deep into the rebel’s neck. Like wine out of a barrel, blood began to pour out of his punctured neck and bubbling out of his mouth – any last words he attempted to utter were lost behind his gargling.
“No!” Seeing her friend fell at the hand of the Prime Sentinel – the bowwoman began to unleash a flurry of arrows straight at him.
There must’ve been five to six arrows that were released in a matter of seconds. An impressive amount, yet they were weak, and some of them did not even reach their target. The ones that did – did not even pierce their target but instead wedged themselves deep into the back of the dead swordsman – that the Prime Sentinel was using as his shield.
“You should not be desecrating the fallen like that. Especially someone you hold dear.” The Prime Sentinel lectured the bowwoman. With one hand holding the swordsman as a shield and the other hand, he reached the corpse’s hand that was still hanging onto his sword. The Prime Sentinel yanked the sword off his cold palm and stretched his arm backwards. “A keepsake to remember your beloved.” With the sword tilting slightly back, he then threw his arm forward and released the blade.
It was faster than any arrows released by the bowwoman. The sword spun like a wheel rolling across the sky. Though the sword was of no marvel craftsmanship – when tossed by the Prime Sentinel, its tip pierced the air, and its edge cleaved the wind coating its steel body. The bowwoman had no time to react. By the time she had lowered her head and eyes, a hole the size of her fist had already carved itself in her navel. The sword cleanly pierced through her leather armour and belly and went out her back – even Evens would have missed it entirely if he had just blinked once.
Choked on her own words and face turning paler than a ghost, the bowwoman hovered her hands over the hole, trying to hold back the blood from flowing out and innards from spilling over. Before long, she crumbled to her knees and lay flat on his stomach, blood slowly seeping out of her lifeless body. As her eyes gently shut for the last time, they set themselves upon the swordsman who departed before her.
This damned monster… Evens gnawed his teeth unnervingly. To throw a sword with such precision and might – he must have been the man who tossed the other Firstkind rebel across the sky.
Now, in a mere matter of moments, the Prime Sentinel had dispatched another two rebels. Both Rupert and Owl were left frozen in fear, quaking in their boots – while Blueyard’s face was left motionless, unsure whether he was petrified or unimpressed.
Run, you fool, Evens looked at Abraham, who was still standing in place, unsure whether frozen in fear or still recuperating his breath.
With all eight of his comrades slayed, Abraham had no other choice but to force himself up, with his warhammer as support. “Kenny… Iris… Ya’ fool… Ya’ should’ve run, and this wouldn’t have happened…” Abraham muttered, though Evens was unsure to whom he was referring. His eyes and half of his face were hidden by his hand, but his mouth was still out in the open – gnawing his teeth intensely until blood began to drip out of his gums.
“For what it’s worth – for a mere handful of human rebels, they did better than most I’ve faced. At least, they did not flee until the very end.” The Prime Sentinel offered his respect. “Be sure to tell them that when you’re reunited.”
“Ya’ rock a mean stony face – but ya’ quite cocky nonetheless, aren’t ya’?” Abraham spat the blood out of his mouth. “What? Not gonna’ offer me a chance to surrender?” goaded Abraham with one hand raised to the air.
“Would you accept it?”
Abraham shook his head as his smirk returned.
“I expected so. It’s a shame, but there ought to be more than enough hostages with lips not sealed as tight as yours.” The Prime Sentinel sighed, seemingly disappointed.
The battle was nearing its conclusion. This grand battle that enfolded in the middle of the street in Dreamcity had no spectators besides Evens and his friends. Even with an entire horde of men, coordinated and armed to the teeth, they stood no chance against an unarmed Prime Sentinel.
The Prime Sentinel faced Abraham, priming to strike him down – yet he wouldn’t. Abraham hurled his warhammer repeatedly at his foe, but the Prime Sentinel effortlessly dodged each blow as if he was dancing. With each passing strike, Abraham’s swing gradually became slower and heavier – yet he would not stop his flurry of hammer swings, no matter what.
The sun, too, was descending for slumber. The blazes lit throughout the city, becoming extinguished by the dawn’s wind. The once mournful wailings of dreaded residents have begun to wane. The clashes of swords between rebels and Sentinels have turned silent in place of steel shackles being locked and lashes being whipped. The galloping of Sentinels’ steeds and footsteps of fleeing Firstkind rebels have ended, with one overwhelming the other.
Why are you still not running? Evens muttered. He did not understand. Even if Abraham could not defeat the Prime Sentinel, he should still be able to run – no matter how futile it was, he could still try. Damn it all… Fine then… Evens sighed as he closed his eyes.
“We should get out of here if we want to make it in time to be arrested easily,” Rupert mumbled, having finally recovered from his fright.
“Yeah…” Owl held no disagreement for once.
“C’mon, patch-lad.” Blueyard patted Evens’s shoulder. “What a bout. They did as well as anyone would against that beast of a man.” He sighed, outwardly dejected that the spectacle was over for him.
“I can take him.”
“What?” A mere sentence was all it took to stop Rupert, Owl, and even Blueyard in their steps.
“I can take him,” Evens repeated himself.
“In a fight?” stuttered Owl.
“Yes.”
“Are you insane? Did you forget what happened to you last time?” Rupert questioned Evens as if he was there to witness it.
“No.”
Outwardly satisfied with Evens’s blunt answer, Rupert turned back and walked in the opposite direction. “Then stop speaking crazy, and let’s go–”
“I owe the Firstkind my life.” Evens stomped his foot. “As big of a prick he is, I owe Abraham as much as I do Stelie and Callen.” Evens tried to reason, to not only his friends but also himself – hopefully, that would stop his body from sweating and shivering.
“Don’t make this difficult, Evens,” Rupert grumbled.
“I dunno’. I feel like we could take him on if we all jump ‘em.” Owl shrugged his shoulders – Evens did not know where he got that confidence from.
“And that did so well for those eight other rebels,” Rupert slapped Owl’s bald head.
“I’m staying. I’m not asking any of you to follow me–” Before Evens could finish his sentence, both Rupert and Owl struck the back of his head.
“As if we’ll leave you behind,” Rupert rolled his eyes.
“I ain’t breakin’ my promise with Miss Num. She’ll kill my ass.” Owl chuckled.
Damned idiots… Evens sighed while patting the back of his head, yet he could not stop himself from grinning.
“Not bad at all, egg-boy and stick-kid!” Blueyard leapt in and wrapped his arms around Rupert and Owl’s shoulders. “Brotherhood is a beautiful thing. If only mine was half as pure as you boys’.” He dramatically wiped a droplet of tears off his eyelid. “But brothers should sometimes let others earn their own glory.” The ghostly man ruffled Rupert’s short black hair and rubbed Owl’s bald head.
“Stop touching my head,” Owl slapped his palm away.
“What glory is there to be found here? Running into certain death would earn you no glory.” Rupert lashed out at Blueyard.
“A mere human boy defeated the great Prime Sentinel – the scourge of all steel and flesh. What greater glory are there to be found? You would not find a single tale like that in any history books – I can assure you that.” Blueyard writhed at the mere thought.
“Evens doesn’t need to entertain your sick pleasure,” Owl admonished the creep. “Right, Evens?” he tapped Evens’s back.
“No.” Evens gave his answer to the shock of both Rupert and Owl. “He is right. I want this for myself. I want revenge for my loss.” He mumbled, his words shaky and voice unsteady.
“Evens…” Owl muttered as he slowly took his hand off Evens’s back.
Rupert pushed Owl to the side and gripped Evens by the collars, uncharacteristically of him. “That’s enough. We tried to play nice, but if you’re not letting us stay, then we won’t let you eith–”
A swift thump. Rupert’s last words never left his mouth as his teeth bit down onto his tongue and his eyes rolled back to his skull. A few droplets of blood were seeping out of the back of his head and dyeing his hair red.
Owl managed to catch Rupert before his face hit the ground. “What did you do–”
Another swift thump. Owl’s words slurred before they were cut short. His body fell to the dirt, motionless. A swollen bump has already begun to form on his forehead.
With the rod he hung to his back, Blueyard had felled the two boys unconscious. “Sorry ‘bout this, boys. It’d have been much easier if ya’ both would’ve just listened.” He sighed before tossing Evens the rod swathed in black cloth and now a little blood from Rupert’s head.
Evens caught the pole with both arms. “Thanks.” The rod was thin but thick enough to fit into Evens’s palms. It was light enough for Evens to effortlessly swing it around but heavy enough for its blows to not feel like feathers. It looks good… Evens mumbled, as it should – after all, it was Evens and Blueyard who had painstakingly spent the last few days forging it. He gently unwrapped the cloth off its body to then reveal an unused spear.
The spear was by no means a masterwork of craftsmanship due to the little time and resources he had. Its proportion was uneven, its shaft was made of common ash wood, and its head was forged from cheap steel. Yet even then, Evens has ensured that its tip and edge would be as sharp as any other weapons that could be found amongst the Firstkind.
It’d have to do, Evens bounced the spear up and down his palms – spinning it in circles alongside his wrists. A spear has always been Evens’s favourite choice of arm, mainly due to his experience of hunting the meterases.
“I’m impressed ya’ managed to forge that piece merely with spare scraps and junk lying around. Rather fitting for you, patch-lad.” While Evens was testing his weapon, Blueyard lifted both Rupert and Owl off the ground, saddling them each onto one arm. Blueyard’s arms were no thicker than tree branches, yet he so effortlessly carried the two lads like they were no more than toddlers. “It’s a shame I’d not be able to witness this bout for myself – but sometimes, a tale retold is more beautiful than the truth seen.”
“I’d tell you of everything. I promise.”
“Well, don’t take too long then. Next time we meet, we ought to be on our way to prison again. How exciting and dull life is.”
“Take care of those two for me. Please.” Evens faintly dipped his head.
“I’ll put as much effort as you would. So do survive, Evens.” Blueyard spoke his name for the first time.
Evens nodded his head, firmly and still – tightly gripping onto his spear with both hands.
Blueyard’s smirk was the last sight of his face that Evens saw before the lanky man turned his back and leisurely walked away with Rupert and Owl hanging on each of his arms – even until now, none was able to fetter him.
That’s that… Here we go… With the three gone, Evens was left alone – though it would not be long before he received some company.
The bout between Abraham and Six still raged on, though it was less of a battle and more of a predator playing with its prey until its spirit crumbled. Abraham could barely even swing his warhammer higher than his torso anymore and now had to throw wild punches and kicks instead. The Prime Sentinel still has not thrown a single attack towards Abraham, merely evading and, at times, parrying his blows. Before long, Abraham had no other choice but to gradually back away, while the Prime Sentinel equally took his time to amble towards his tiring prey.
Get your damn shit together! Evens slapped his own face to wake himself up, though it only served to ache his body before the fight even began. He merely had a spear and a ragged dark cloak for protection. Despite that, Evens put his hood over his head still – the time had come for him to still his feet, grit his teeth, and straighten his back.
Evens swiftly dashed out of the corner he had hidden in for so long.
Abraham and the Prime Sentinel were in front of him. The rebel was a bit farther, but the ecliant was merely a few steps away – short yet long steps. The Prime Sentinel had his back turned, but Abraham should be able to see Evens – though perhaps the hood was covering too much of Evens’s face for him to notice.
Here goes nothing… With his spear held firmly in his hands, Evens leapt into the air – as high as he could muster until his head was even higher than the Prime Sentinel’s. From the height he was at, his eyes were looking straight down at the top of the Prime Sentinel’s long and golden head. Take this! Evens grunted in silence, with all the might housed in his scarry arms, he stabbed the spear down at the oblivious foe before him.
Yet, no matter how he tried. No matter how hard he pushed. No matter how hard he impaled. His spear never pierced flesh. If anything, it felt as though the spear was stabbed instead.
That’s him alright, Evens smirked, that was all he could do when stuck in mid-air – at the mercy of the devilish ecliant who had grabbed hold of Evens’s spear.
The Prime Sentinel did not even turn his head, yet he knew of Evens’s surprise attack. As if it was a mere broomstick, he gripped the shaft tightly and flung the spear forward, along with Evens, who was clutching onto it for dear life.
Evens flew across the sky for a brief moment. His body spun like a wheel before landing in the dirt. The fall was not too bad, aside from a sore bum, Evens should be fine – any throw by the Prime Sentinel would look kinder when compared to what he did to that poor Firstkind rebel. Damned brute… With his spear as support, Evens lifted himself up – it was a miracle that the spear did not break from the throw.
“What the… Ark, what are you doing to my mind, Lord?” Abraham murmured with his eyes squinted. By a stroke of luck, the toss landed Evens right next to where Abraham stood.
“Ark ain’t here to claim you just yet. It’s just me for now,” Evens faintly lifted away his black hood, just enough to reveal his smug and scarry face – though not to the Prime Sentinel.
“What are ya’ doing here, punk?” asked Abraham with a bewildered look.
“To save yer’ sorry ass. What else?” Evens punched the giant’s arm, though it seemed to hurt his knuckles more than Abraham’s bicep.
“I dunno’ what fried ya’ brain, but get lost, kid. Yer’ not supposed to be here.” Abraham waved his hand.
“Neither were you supposed to. Frou wants you lots to go to jail, not the grave.”
Abraham held no rebuttal. For once, since Evens met him, his prideful front crumbled and instead was replaced by that of a docile mute.
“I don’t know why you’re risking your life for this, and truth be told, I could not care less.” Evens shrugged his shoulders. “But do ease your worries. I won’t rat you out to the Chief if ya’ don’t want to. After all, I ain’t letting a prick like you keep holding a debt over my head.” Evens reassured the silent giant.
“Is that right?” Abraham smirked faintly. “This is a man’s league, but we’ll see what ya’ can do, kid.” As if strength had reignited in his giant body, Abraham lifted his warhammer and rested it over his shoulder. His murky eyes, once tired and closed, were now widely opened – fixing themselves upon his enemy once more.
The Prime Sentinel slowly marched forward, each of his footsteps felt as though they might summon quakes to the earth whenever he wished. “Have I met you before?” His golden eyes stared at Evens.
“Perhaps. I’ll tell you before you die.” Evens further hid his face with his hood, unsure whether to feel scared or honoured that the Prime Sentinel himself seemed to recall his presence.
“That’s a terrible line, kid.” Abraham gave him a pitiful stare, treating Evens as if he were the enemy instead of the Prime Sentinel.
“Shut up. Ya’ think I don’t know.” Evens even further hid his face with his hood – this time to hide his reddened cheeks.
“But that’s exactly the kind of shitty line that the Chief would eat up.” Abraham smacked Evens’s back, nearly throwing his hood off and ruining his disguise.
Evens nodded his head confidently, on that he could not disagree, even from what little he knew about Frou and her eccentricities.
The fighters have arrived, and the stage has cleared of distractions. Evens’s fingers were shaking, yet his nerves felt calm. He gripped his spear tightly as if it were a precious staff embroidered with colourful gems. The second round, which has been long overdue, ought to ensue at any moment – Evens was ready.