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Daniel in Distress [part 3]
I was intertwined in a fierce, heated battle with my newfound rival. It was easy to land blows on the slow and bulky oaf; it was like hitting the side of a barn with how much the armor slowed him down. Still, it also meant that my blows were merely an annoyance to him, not enough to do any real damage. Even with my leaded katana, I still couldn’t do much more than dent his armor, so I spent a few minutes on defense, looking for weaknesses or uncovered skin.
After a few minutes, I proceeded to twirl around him, slashing at his heavily armored chest. I spun multiple circles around him from both directions, effortlessly blocking his predictable blows as I did so. After he was confused enough and his arms were beginning to block my strokes by pattern, I jammed my katana into his foot, and it easily pierced the leather, but a bone blocked it from passing all the way through.
But I didn’t care, I was just trying to distract him with pain as I quickly drew both of my lighter katanas from their sheathes and began a barrage of wild slashes, stabs, and twirls with the occasional block, only when necessary.
Once I had him overpowered, I quickly sheathed my swords and plucked my heavy one from his foot, holding it with both my hands and driving it into his side with all my power. It hit a dent in the armor, and finally broke through to cut into his side. It was just below his ribs, and it wasn’t intended to kill him, just to cripple him long enough to do what needed be done.
Even if he was just imaginary, I didn’t kill anyone unless absolutely necessary. Every life has worth, no matter how many bad choices they make. Some may say that they have no hope and it’s best to end their suffering, but people can always change. Some people may not forgive them for what they’ve done at first, but if they make an effort to change, then I have open arms for them. Not the kind of thing you’d expect to hear from a myrmidon, is it? Well, I’m different.
As I watched him drop to the ground, thoughts bubbling in my head as they always did in the last few moments of a fight. Instead of basking in the victory, I bowed down, humbling myself. “A worthier opponent I have never fought.” I muttered, part of me forgetting that it was all just practice, and he was in my head. I resheathed my katana and continued to speak, “I am sorry for your wounds. Godspeed in your healing.”
Then I as well fell backwards, panting and slightly loony, I believe. As my eyes readjusted to the real world, I realized that I had fought myself distance away, now at the edge of a forest. A river ran out of it to one side of me, and I remembered seeing this spot on the horizon earlier in the morning. The sun was now low in the sky, casting long shadows on the earth and turning the sky pink. A shadow of a moon was visible near the top of the sky, and a very small number of stars dotted the strip of sky farthest away from the setting sun.
The world was the most peaceful during the hour between day and night, or so I had always thought. Everything seemed still besides the sun, slowly falling behind the far horizon to warm the other side of the world.
I felt sort of out of it, and I suddenly remembered part of the battle. Which was odd, because I usually remembered every single stroke of my exchanges for a day or so before I started forgetting pieces. I could do the exact same sequence of strokes again, though I wasn’t sure if my adversary would comply.
What in the world was I thinking? I really was going nutty. Though most of the time I didn’t think about my opponent’s strokes, it was true. Maybe it’s a good thing to be slightly loony. It means no one can every predict what you’re going to do next.
I shrugged and shoved it aside as I stared at the setting sun, trying to figure it all out. The part that I had just suddenly remembered was tedious, my strokes quite under my usual standards of unpredictability. I fit it into a slot in my memory of the battle, trying to remember what I had been doing in that time slot.
I vaguely remembered spacing out and finding myself in an odd room. It was srk and looked sort of like a cave. I had been… floating? Yes, floating. And there was… there was… oh, I couldn’t remember! I shouted a small, meaningless, grunt-like noise, followed by an exasperated sigh of defeat. Oh well, what did it matter?
I gulped down mouthfuls of water from the river until my thirst was quenched and I felt as if I was filled with the stuff. Then I rolled over and unhooked my black night cloak from my sword belt, wrapping myself in it and falling asleep under the shade of the trees, falling asleep sometime between the last few rays of red-tinted sunlight and the moment that the last star appears to dot the sky.
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