The blade of wind screamed through the air. There was a flash of black where Ash stood, and then it passed through him and struck the wall of the building behind him. The stone shuddered and debris rained down, pattering to the ground like rain. The stone bent under its own weight and collapsed with a ringing crash.

A shadowy form stood where Ash had been. Before Kaze could get a good look, a cloud of dust rolled out from the fallen building and swallowed the shadow whole. The last thing he saw before Ash disappeared were two molten-red eyes peering at him from within the brown-gray cloud.

The back of Kaze’s neck prickled. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword and he took a step to the side, his eyes scanning his surroundings. For the first time in years, panic prickled at his mind.

He’d seen his attack carve through Ash… but there had been no blood. Even though the man should have been dead, there had been no sound of sliced flesh. No cry of pain. No thud. Nothing.

The dust cloud expanded outward. It swallowed the street and rolled over Kaze, casting the world in muddy shadows. Light echoed and moonlight danced around him as it reflected off the particles in the dust.

Wind whispered in Kaze’s ears, but it spoke so rapidly that he couldn’t make out what it was saying. He tasted metal in the air and he took a step forward, nearly jumping at the movement of his own shadow in the twisting storm around him.

Kaze wet his lips. He tried to focus on the wind, hear what it —

Red eyes burned in the near distance.

He burst into motion. Dust curled away from him as the wind blew the dust back from his steps. He arrived before Ash, swung his blade, and found nothing but shadow.

The sword passed through the inky clone, sending streamers curling off it and mixing with the dust cloud surrounding them. Kaze’s jaw clenched. He spun away from the shadow, lifting his blade defensively in preparation for an attack that didn’t come.

He stepped to the side, swiping his sword through the dust. The wind was howling in his ears, but he couldn’t hear it. Its voice had been stifled. Muted by that damnable —

A stone clattered.

Kaze spun, diving for the source of the noise and thrusting his blade forward. It found nothing. He took several staggering steps, then spun once more. He could hear his heartbeat slamming in his chest, fear prickling at his spine.

The wind grew louder. Its screams finally broke through his fear.

Kaze’s eyes widened. He thrust his hands out at the wind’s command, calling upon it and thrusting magic out from his palms. A gale roared free. It gathered the dust and threw it away as a powerful gale whipped around him.

With a howl, the dust storm was banished. It was hurled into the air above and forced through the alleyways, leaving the street visible once more.

Kaze spun. He readied his blade to take a blow or attack, but there was no sign of Ash. He was —

The wind screamed a warning.

It wasn’t fast enough.

Weight slammed into Kaze’s back as Something drove down on him from above. His knees buckled. The ground rushed up to meet his face. His nose slammed into the stone and broke with a loud crack. Agony exploded through his body.

Kaze called on the wind. It burst free of his body and threw his attacker back. He rolled to the side and staggered to his feet, breath coming in pained gasps.

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Ash rose several paces away from him. He’d managed to avoid the wind’s fury.

Fury twisted Kaze’s features. He reached up to his back, where a thick shard of glass was embedded below his shoulder. With a snarl, he grabbed the glass and ripped it free. He threw it to the ground and it shattered.

“You know, you’re not meant to do that,” Ash said. “It makes you bleed more.”

“Silence,” Kaze snarled. He rolled his neck, raised his sword before him once more. Ash had gotten lucky once. It would not happen again. Kaze would not allow it to happen. Their fight had muted its voice. His panic was dulling its words.

This must end. I must kill him here and now.

“Are you not even going to ask how I got on the roof to jump on top of you?” Ash asked. He sounded genuinely offended. “It was really damn difficult, you know. Have you ever tried climbing with one arm? Fortunately, I still had both of my legs and my—”

Kaze blurred forward. Ash was still talking when the wind carried Kaze to him. Without so much as a word, he brought his sword screaming down for Ash’s neck, determined to see the strike through this time around.

Glass burst from Ash’s side. It erupted like a cancerous growth and slammed into his blade. Kaze gritted his teeth and tried to slice through it. He called on the wind to rip free from his blade, but even that blade struck the spreading glass with a screech and failed to reach its target.

Ash thrust his good palm forward, and the wind howled its warning.

Kaze threw himself backward. He was forced to release the hilt of his sword, which was stuck fast in the glass. Ash’s palm fell just short of him, even as a shard of glass jutted free of it and caught his clothes, ripping a thin furrow through his shirt.

He hit the ground with a pained grunt, rolling once before shoving himself upright. Dirt worked its way into the wound in his back and stung, pushing the voice of the wind even farther away from the forefront of his mind.

Ash grabbed the sword as the mirrored shards jutting from his body shattered and fell away. He held it out with his good hand. His features — at least, those that Kaze could make out from behind the mask — wrinkled in distaste.

“This thing is heavy. How do you swing it around so easily?”

“It is a katana. One you are not worthy of wielding,” Kaze growled.

Ash glanced at the weapon, then back up to Kaze. “You know what? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

The wind swirled around Kaze. It gathered at his back and shoved him forward as he let out a wordless scream, charging at Ash. With every word that he spoke, the wind’s words seemed to grow duller. His yammering was carving away the peace.

Kaze twisted his shoulder, driving his fist toward Ash’s face. Wind gathered around his knuckles, roared with such intensity that it blew his hair back and made his eyes prickle.

Ash twisted out of the way of the blow, but the wind still drove him down into the ground. Wind gathered around his foot and Kaze kicked at the fallen man’s head.

At the last moment, Ash managed to bring his good arm up before himself. Kaze’s foot slammed into his arm and a loud crack rang out as Ash’s bone shattered. The sword flew from Ash’s grip and his arm bent at an angle — at the exact same time that a mirror blade shot out from it.

It carved across Kaze’s leg and ripped deep through his flesh. Agony tore through his body and he staggered back, letting out a cry of pain. His foot caught on a piece of gravel and he pitched back.

His ass hit the ground and the air was knocked from his lungs in a pained wheeze. Even more pain shot through his body as his open wound on his shoulder flared in conjunction with the new one on his leg. Blood pumped from his body and onto the ground.

Ash rolled over, wheezing in pain; arms hung limply at his sides, both worthless. With a grunt, he heaved himself to his feet. Every movement clearly sent agony ripping through him, but still he rose.

Kaze tried to rise, but his body wouldn’t respond. All he could do was drag himself back, his breathing coming out faster and faster. The wind was nothing more than a distant howl now, overwhelmed by the emotion pounding in his skull.

“How?” Kaze wheezed, getting one of his arms out from under him and pushing himself upright.

He called on the wind, but it wouldn’t answer him anymore.

All of his magic was spent. Fear crashed against him in waves that rose and rose, driving into his mind like the relentless ocean.

Ash took a shaky step toward him. His arms swayed like seaweed in the ocean current. Blood dripped down from where bone burst free and rolled down his arms; his features were twisted in pain, and still, he took another step forward.

His shadow fell over Kaze.

His foot lifted into the air.

“I was right,” Ash said.

His foot fell.

It slammed into Kaze’s skull.

There was a sound like a gunshot on a distant, windy cliffside.

Then there was nothing.