Chapter 23

From where I sat, the contest seemed like it should be over before it began. Grayson had removed his jacket, revealing a cotton shirt underneath that confirmed the obvious. The man was fit and strong, no stranger to a life of physical activity. I could see his biceps clearly as he held his sword out before him, the blade slanting across his body, the slight curve making it clear the weapon was meant for slashing attacks.

On the contrary, Emma was slender, lithe. She was still in her dress, and even while it was the traveling sort, I had to wonder what she was playing at. Surely, such a thing would make it more difficult to move. Additionally, she was slender of frame, hell, her wrists were so small I could easily clasp my hand all the way around them. Such gentle things, that didn’t seem meant for any type of physical confrontation. She was shorter than Grayson, slimmer in build, lesser in weight, and physically the contest wasn’t fair. Her smaller size also meant she had much less reach than Grayson.

I didn’t know much about sword fighting, but I knew a thing or two about fighting hand to hand. The reach granted to someone by longer limbs could be a deadly advantage if they knew what they were doing. And sure, physical size wasn’t everything in a fight, but it sure as hell helped. The only thing in equality for the two that I knew for sure, was their cores. Both of them had copper cores, Emma with her water affinity, and Grayson, his earth affinity. And I knew having a copper core meant, compared to normal folk, the both of them were stronger and faster than was natural. My own strength, speed, stamina, and overall enhanced physical nature was apparently due to my massive amounts of mana after all. And I only had an Iron core.

Emma took up her stance about five paces away from Grayson. She held her slender blade outwards, in a somewhat lose manner, and waited. In the center, one of Grayson’s men stepped forward. He flipped something into the air and stepped backwards. Everyone grew silent as the shimmering coin flew upwards, waiting. Once the coin hit the ground, the duel would begin. A duel to first blood.

I felt the world slow as I focused intently on what was before me. Worry filled me over Emma’s fate. Disbelief and confusion raced through my mind over how Clint, who was standing with a group of people watching the duel, seemed so calm over the whole thing. Frustration and anger filled me, over the whole damned situation. This was not how you kept a low profile. And finally, pain. My constant companion, the cruel throbbing pain that felt as if my insides were burning away.

The coin dropped, and I couldn’t see from where I was when it hit the ground. But I assumed it must have, as Grayson stepped forward, slashing his blade in a diagonal manner, cutting at Emma. The soul-silver blade seemed to flash as the flames from the bonfire illuminated the weapon. It was a deadly looking attack, and if it struck anyone cleanly, it would likely inflict a deep wound. However, as I watched, I could tell it wouldn’t hit her chest. Hells, it wasn’t even aiming for her body proper. He’d not closed the distance enough, and the smirk on his face showed he knew it. The blade whistled through the air, inches away from Emma.

“You’ve overstepped Miss Parker.” He said cockily as he stepped backwards, bringing his sword back up, the grin clear on his face. “Your inability to react just now shows as much. I’ll give you one chance to surrender. You’ve stood up for your honor. The fact you even stepped into this duel against me, is more than enough to prove your conviction, misplaced as it should be. Surrender, for it would surely be a crime to scar such beautiful skin as you’ve—”

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He didn’t get to finish his statement. Emma half dashed, half shuffled forward, her right arm striking forward like a viper striking from the bushes. As she extended her arm outwards it twisted slightly, her wrist seeming to dip forward, making the thin blade drop slightly as it darted towards Grayson. This time, it was he who didn’t move, as the blade froze under his chin. From where I was, I couldn’t tell if she’d pierced his flesh or stopped just before. Either way, the simple, sudden act, was telling.

Grayson took an unvoluntary step backwards as he looked down at the blade, Emma already retracting her strike and putting distance between the two of them once more. She took up her stance once more, the slender blade held loosely, the tip slanted forward at an angle. She smiled at him, her eyes somehow looking down at him, even though he towered over her.

“You’ve overstepped, Mr. Grayson,” she said, tauntingly. She was enjoying herself. “Your inability to react just now shows as much.” There was laughter from some of the people watching the duel. Her opponent, on the other hand, scowled, his sword shaking in his hand from anger. Emma continued toying with him. “I’ll let you surrender now, if you wish to save some of your pride. Can’t imagine your men will respect you all that much, if you lose in a duel to a frail woman such as I.” More laughter, while Grayson’s men glanced from Emma to their employer.

“You’re going to wish you’d drawn blood there.” Grayson spat on the ground and took up his own stance. “I was going to be kind; I was trying to be respectful.” His tone deepened, “but it seems you need to be reminded of the law of the land.”

“Oh, and what law is that?” Emma asked, taunting him even more as they circled each other, neither stepping forward.

“The most important law. The one truth in nature that all understand, and respect.” He said, “might,” as he spoke, I couldn’t help but feel his blade seemed to glow brighter for a moment. On instinct, I pushed a small amount of mana to my eyes, though the action caused my headache to flare even more. Squinting through the pain, as the world burst into an array of reds and blues and greens and silvery purples, I focused. Grayson’s emerald core glowed, but more than that, so did his weapon. He was pushing mana into his soul-silver blade.

I felt a pit open in my stomach, as I thought back to the one other time I’d seen such a thing. The visage of Holiday, the US Marshall, running someone through with the base of his walking stick, form which a blade of ice protruded, filled my mind. My confidence in Emma’s skill fled as fear for her safety filled me. She wasn’t a see-er. She couldn’t see what he was doing. Did anyone know?

In times of great crisis, sometimes, the mind seems to go into overdrive. So too, did my mind accelerate as I watched the moment. He stepped forward once more, this time closing the distance to ensure he would be able to cut Miss Emma down. His blade slashed diagonally, in an arc that would run from shoulder to waist. And as he did so, all along the blade, I saw green mana crawl. It was barely decipherable, but I watched as the blade’s edge, and overall length, grew.

The attack moved towards Emma in slow motion. She stood there, watching him, unmoving, as the attack slashed towards her. He’d waited till her back was towards the bonfire, eliminating how far she could step backwards comfortably. With the extended length on the blade, even if she did take a step black, the weapon would cut her. Far as I could tell, there was no escape from this strike. Her slender blade had no chance of stopping the thicker, heavier weapon.

Miss Emma was doomed to lose this duel, and what’s more, she was not going to leave it with a minor scratch or cut. I had no doubt in my mind, the attack would leave her with a serious injury. One that would no doubt leave her incapable of traveling past Lincoln for a long while. In this singular moment of time, as the world felt frozen around me, save for the impending end of my travels with Emma, all I could do was watch.

Once again, I was useless, helpless. The pain in my body, was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. If there was one thing I could never stand, never allow myself to bare again, it was the impossible grief and weight of being unable to help someone you cared about.

And in that moment, as that pain pushed away all the other pain within me, I realized something else. I cared about Emma. I cared about Clint. Somehow, I’d once again, began to let people in. I’d once again begun to form bonds. And now, all too soon, they’d once again be severed.

I felt a tear fall down my face, whether from pain, anger, frustration, or grief, I didn’t know. I refused to blink as I watched the scene unfold. I refused to look away as the moment that had pushed such a revelation on me played out.

It was the only thing I could do. Because, once again, fate was showing me, I wasn’t the one in control. I was still powerless, still helpless, still incapable of protecting the things I cared about. I…was weak.