It all happened in the blink of an eye.
That world of ecstasy. Of dancing and smiling, where her anxieties vanished by the overwhelming power of song.
The world contained within the walls of this club… it had crumbled.
In the blink of an eye, the floor that had witnessed her dance morphed into a battlefield. A face-off, between two of the greatest warriors in the land.
“Miles!”
Elena called out the name of the lovely man with whom she’d been sharing the evening with. But her words were too slow, because those of any person would be too slow. Upon glancing at the wrinkled and scarred face of Thales Lockgood, Miles’ eyes flared with anger, and in a flash, he seemingly warped right in front of Thales.
*Clink*
No words, no grunts, no chants. In an instant, Miles had become one with the wind, and swung at Thales’ chest, no will beyond that of taking the man’s life.
Against any opponent, such a swift maneuver would prove enough to win the battle. Despite charging at him head-on, Miles’ speed was such that it could qualify as a sneak attack, not giving the average warrior a chance to react.
Thales Lockgood was no average warrior.
The seemingly instant strike by Miles was met by Thales’ own blade, which he quickly brought out of his scabbard. Hit by the force of a freight train, Thales slid backward, as the two remained locked in a clash of steel, their faces close enough to share breaths.
Miles hopped backward, trying to regain a bit of distance after his scheme failed.
“Impressive,” Thales said. “You managed to quickly build up enough Wind Mana around your blade for a quick strike. That’s the kind of dirty fighting I expect of the son of…”
“Shut up!” Miles blinked with his golden eyes, then without so much as opening them raised his blade. Once again, he lunged at his opponent, sending his way a series of five, consecutive blows, which were slower than the one before but with significantly more strength. Thales, however, effortlessly blocked them all, without a hint of desperation on his rugged face.
“I must warn you, though your skill is astounding, if you think I’m an opponent you can simply overcome through sheer brute force, you will be disappointed. You’re going to have to give it your all if you want to get past me”
Miles frowned at the sound of Thales’ words, which were uttered with an uncanny calmness considering the situation.
Though both combatants were trained in the art of Sword Dancing, there were vast, evident differences in the way both of them were approaching this fight. Miles’ way was to swing fast and to swing first, wanting to drag the battle to a close as quickly as possible using his speed. Thales, meanwhile, simply stood his ground like an iron wall, standing by the entrance and blocking any attack that came his way. It was his way of evening out the difference in age between them, employing a fighting style that required less movement out of him. Most peculiar, he was not even attempting to land any counterattacks, content with simply stopping Miles from defeating him.
Of course, this was also because killing Miles was not his actual aim.
“But… if you hand over the girl, we can tie a bow to this little skirmish, and then forget this happened.”
Elena, who’d been watching from the sidelines, felt her heart stop. She was the one responsible for the events unfolding, and she was the one who could put an end to them. Thales was here with the sole purpose of retrieving her and returning her to the castle that she’d unintentionally escaped from. To surrender herself was a very real option that needed considering. The rest of the patrons, who’d been dancing minutes ago like this night was their last, now surrounded her with looks of concern and indignation, knowing their lives had been thrown into danger because of her.
Most importantly, Miles’ life was also in danger. The concern showed in his eyes, as he gave quick glances at Elena before refocusing on his enemy.
If I stay here, then…
“Bronson, Galen, get Elena and the others away! I’ll distract him!”
“Yes sir!”
Elena couldn’t even finish her thought, as suddenly a bony hand gripped hers, beginning to drag her away.
“W—Wait!” Elena said to deaf ears. Although she didn’t want to leave Miles alone, she was strung along by Galen, who grabbed her hand and began running.
“Apologies milady, but the boss’s orders are orders,” Galen said. Despite his scrawny build, his strength was enough to overwhelm Elena.
A loud shout then echoed in the air. “Everyone, follow me to the back entrance.” The shout belonged to the burly man by the name of Bronson. On his shoulders, the figure of a blonde woman could be spotted.
“G—Good, morning everybody, hip”
Leila, too wasted to move, was being carried by Bronson, who wasted no second running to the back of the bar. The other clients, totaling about eight total, followed him.
“Let’s take the stairs. From there, we’ll—” Bronson kept giving everyone orders, but even his roaring voice was drowned out by the sudden, loud swoosh.
The noise came from the entrance. Elena looked backward as she was running, and noticed the two men clashing swords had vanished, taking their fight outside.
Please… be fine.
It was a miracle that she and Miles managed to meet. It was an even bigger miracle that they managed to meet after her having met death.
Thus, she could not prevent anxiety from building inside her chest. No matter how confident she might be about his skills, she couldn’t help worrying about what might happen should the worst come to pass. Especially when the reason the young man was risking his life was because of her.
So, in a move she knew she might regret, she shook her hand, breaking free of Galen’s grip.
“Milady, where are you—”
“I want to help!” Elena said, before starting to dash in the opposite direction.
“Wait, don’t—” Gales wanted to stop her, but from his panting it was clear he did not have the energy to give chase.
Foolish though it may be, Elena wanted to help. What she could do to help, she didn’t know, but she knew she wanted to help. Even if it was just by blocking an attack with her body, that would be more than enough for her.
She had the ability to cheat death. So as long as Miles lived, any encounter would be a success, even if it led to her death. In a way, it could be said her life was of less importance, as this current life of hers was just one life in many, a privilege most aren’t privy to.
Hence, she couldn’t accept simply turning tail, all while someone else risked their life for her.
Elena dashed outside into the same alleyway she and Miles had arrived through. It was then that her skin turned cold and the hem of her dress was swept upward, a sudden gust of wind that threatened to take hold of even her soul. She inspected her surroundings, trying to catch a hint of Miles.
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And a hint was all she caught.
Above her, on top of the nearby rooftops, a large concentration of wind built up. To describe it with words would be doing such a sight a disservice, but it was like two small tornados crashing into one another. Beams of light could be seen taking the arc of curves, accompanied by the loud thunk of steel meeting steel. Their bodies were invisible to the naked eye, swallowed by the whims of the wind.
It was a fight that exceeded that which humans were capable of. A struggle between two forces of nature, both unstoppable and relentless. Such a battle was meant only for those who were exceptional, for those who could soar beyond the heights that their humanity limited them to.
Elena forgot her ability to breathe. Such was the natural result of seeing two masters of the wind, locked in battle against each other with the intent to kill.
Only when he took the time to pant that Elena could actually spot the figure of Miles, whose energy seemed to be faltering. Standing on a roof, he inspected the street turned battlefield from the high ground, looking for the sight of his foe.
Instead, he caught sight of Elena, and raised his eyebrows in horror.
“What are you doing here?” he quickly yelled.
Knowing she’d come there with no plan, Elena had no answer. Nor did she have time to think of one.
In the span of a thunder strike, Miles, who had his attention on Elena, leaped high into the sky. Where he once stood, the swinging arc of Thales’ blade could be found. The old knight had attempted to strike during a moment of inattention from the young pirate, going on the offensive for the first time. To his surprise, Miles had predicted such a tactic, and managed to dodge by reaching for the far skies.
A trail of wind rained down, following Miles’ sword as it plunged downward in search of its prey. Before hitting the ground, Miles swung his weapon, attempting to cleave his enemy’s neck.
Instead, his slash only managed to cut the air, as his target vanished before his eyes.
“What the—”
Elena covered her face with her arm, as suddenly, a barrage of small chunks of glass stormed toward her, cutting her fair skin. They originated from the window by the wall of a nearby building, which exploded all of a sudden.
When her eyes became unperturbed again, she stared at the battle yet again. Now, the standings had changed. Thales and Miles were exchanging blows, with the former standing on the opposite side to where he had been just before.
Could it be… that he ran along the wall, then tried to hit Miles from behind?
If Thales, who appeared past his prime, was capable of such a maneuver, then who knew what else could those who called themselves Sword Dancers achieve?
A gulp ran down Elena’s neck as she kept an eye on the fight. At moments, she could describe what she saw as a battle of two men, a delicate dance with their blades as the participants. At other times, the picture the combat gave off exceeded her understanding, both participants turning into green blurs; they were two separate winds, each blowing in the opposite direction, that through their swords threatened to impose their will on the other.
What am I even doing here?
Elena asked herself the same question Miles had raised less than a minute before. And just like before, she had no answer—because there was none.
She had no business even thinking she could provide anything for such a battle, a battle where no regular human could so much as contribute, let alone one as worthless as her. Such a battle was a realm reserved only for those who went beyond the norm, beings whose fighting spirit let them overcome the limits of their flesh and bone.
Grasping that she was out of her element, Elena turned around to make it back inside. Unfortunately, a cyclone struck her back, and before her eyes, the figure of a man appeared, blocking the entrance with his body. Thales, carrying scorn in his eyes, raised his blade high, and without a word, let it run loose on her head.
Elena closed her eyes and shivered in fear. The following second proved interminable.
Why? She’d approached the battle willing to die. So why was she shivering? Why did she struggle to look death in the eyes? Why did death still bring her fear?
A shriek was what enveloped sound itself. A shriek that could have come from her lips, yet it was not accompanied by the harrowing sensation of her skin being torn apart, as she expected. The screech had come from someone else, someone with a masculine, heavy voice.
Someone whose life mattered more, and who was now being subjected to the pain that belonged to be hers.
When Elena opened her eyes, she saw Miles; his posture was weakened, his knees were shaking, soon to crumble. His cheeks, his lips, his forehead; they were all washed in blood. His right hand clutched the hilt of his blade. The other, covered a wound to his chest.
Elena could only watch in dismay. Gasp at what her presence had brought on the body of this man who, in a moment of desperation, risked his life for hers. For a life that mattered so much less than his.
Why? I am such an idiot. I always make everything worse.
Panic began to set in in her.
Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy
Elena tortured herself with words of self-deprecation, hoping one of them might allow her to turn back time, to walk back on her foolish decision. It was a fruitless effort. Nothing could erase the fact that her mere presence might have cut Miles’ life short.
“I must congratulate you,” Thales said. “You managed to deflect my blows enough to survive. But I must warn you, this is the end of the road for you. I’ll be taking care of the girl from now on.”
Despite his sorry state, Miles still raised his blade with conviction. Glaring at Thales, he said, “Ne…ver…You…” If he had further words, he could not utter them, as blood was all that his throat was able to spit out.
Gusts of winds began to surround Thales, the tip of his blade shining with hunger for further flesh. “Farewell, Miles of the Dead Sea Pirates. I wish our fight had been an honorable one, but this was all I could offer you.”
Thales showed dignity through his words, despite said words carrying his killing intent. He appeared to show regret over employing such an underhanded tactic, despite not having shown hesitation in doing so. Thales, who was a seasoned fighter, understood that such schemes were a necessity when under the fire of battle. It was perhaps as a form of respect, then, that Thales showed no restraint against fighting dirty, as it acknowledged Miles as a formidable opponent.
Elena, however, felt no such respect for the person that was Thales.
“You fucker! How dare a supposed knight resort to such tactics?”
At hearing her scorn, Thales aimed her gaze toward her. “You are the one who turned this into a two-versus-one. I would watch your tongue before calling me dishonorable.”
Scowling was all she could do in response. Despite his words being in jest, they still served were a reminder of her original aim: to help. Thus, she had no leg to stand on in this discussion, as being a combatant was her intention from the start. This meant that Thales was completely within his right to target her.
As ever, her mere presence had spelled nothing but trouble, a waste of flesh who could not do anything beyond stand around and be useless.
If there was any way she could redeem herself, she would take it.
Thankfully, there was one such action, one single role that she, and only she, could do to wash away her sin.
She ran in front of Miles’ body, extending her arms from side to side. “Leave Miles be, and I’ll go with you,” she proclaimed.
“What!” Miles voiced out loud. Despite struggling to even speak, his disbelief was voiced loud and clear, as if Elena’s actions were so out of pocket that even his wounds forgot how to function. “Elena, what are you…”
“Trust me. I’ll be fine…” Elena slid her hand on his cheeks, swiping off the trails of blood. “I trust that you… will come for me.”
If this was the only way she could help, so be it. Compared to giving her life, some would say that she was getting off easy. For Elena herself, this choice was a no-brainer, and on her eyes her determination was written. Her fiery eyes were like emblems, and carved within them was Elena’s confidence.
Her confidence in that they’d meet again.
This meeting… it could not be a simple miracle. It had to be the work of fate.
Such was her perhaps naive belief.
Miles’ face went through several emotions at the events unfolding. Sadness, anger, dismay. But eventually, acceptance was what he settled on. He bowed his head, then whispered, “I’m sorry I… couldn’t protect you. This is… my fault.”
Elena reacted by bringing her hand to her chest. The cutting edge found within Miles’ words was aimed at himself, yet Elena could also feel it scratching her heart.
Why was this man, whose life was at risk due to her mistakes, also blaming himself? Why did she, on top of everything else, have to deliver mental stress upon his poor being?
“No. It is I who…“
“I agree to such terms.” Thales cut her off, then sheathed his sword, a warm smile building on his otherwise stone-cold face. “You are surprisingly reasonable, Lady Elena. Now please, let’s waste no more time and return to the Castle.”
“Don’t call me Lady.” She sighed, then began walking toward Thales. She made a Herculean effort to keep her body upright, but eventually she snuck in quick, backward looks. Although Thales accepted letting Miles go, the young pirate was still heavily wounded, to the point his body collapsed on the ground.
Thales seemed to pick up on her concern, and so, as soon as she stood by his side, he said to Miles, “I must apologize for my behavior. Capturing Lady Elena was my objective, and I yearned to accomplish it no matter how dishonorable. You have truly entertained me tonight, however. I would like to have a proper duel against you someday. So tonight, let me help you live until that day comes.” Thales clapped his hands, then gave a call. “Cordelia!”
“Wait, what?”
From within the alleyway’s shadow, a figure of a young lady entered the scene. Even with a sleeping sun, her blue eyes sparkled with intense light, drowning those who stared into them with the might of the sea.
“Your orders, Master?” Cordelia said, her voice brittle like glass.
“Cordelia! You are… you are safe.”
Elena’s voice boomed within those city streets, yet they had no impact on the statue made of flesh called Cordelia, who simply received them with a cold, unfeeling stare and with lips sealed like an envelope.