Playing War
Entry for Iron Fic 9
Original Fiction
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ôYou shut up!ö
ôNo you shut up!ö
ôNo you!ö
ôYou!ö
ôYou!ö
Salin watched the two boys playing in the sunlight with a quiet grin. He was sprawled against the porch of MienÆs home, the rough stone uneven but warm against his back. They were so happy. One grabbed the handle of a shovel whose spade was being reforged, the other picked up a broomstick.
Kii, the first boy, smirked and stood tall, one wrist flexed backwards to steady the broomstick against his back. He drew it out and away from himself in a near-perfect flourish, standing tall and proud. Before him, Sigil brought the shovelÆs handle down to his hips briefly in a mock entrance, evoking a sheathed sword, and then pulled it straight into a similar hold, taking a step back.
Kii mirrored him, puffing out his chest in a pose of honorable readiness. Salin had to hold back a laugh as they watched eachother almost nervously. Then suddenly, Sigil lunged forward, sword held high.
He was flying.
He was flying though bloodstained, rank, warm air, the harsh sunlight beating against his armor and flashing golden. His blade shone like lightning itself as he brought it down on his opponent, the one who hadùwell, did it matter? Their blades met in a shower of sparks and a crash of metal, and he was forced back, flying again, until his heavy black boots dug into the soil and he steadied himself, glaring across the space at his enemy.
As they glared at eachother Kii growled and tensed, thinking quickly. Sigil was an energetic but overly quick fighter; it was easy to get under him and block his hits without too much thought. He was able to parry him and force him back out of range, but for how long?
His energy would not last as long after his previous battles, and as he half-tripped over someoneÆs hand it struck him that maybe this was idiotic, fighting when they were the only ones left on the battlefield. Maybe they should just let it go. Leave this blood to be blood, let the world rush on, and know peace for once in their loud, quick lives.
àNaaah.
This was a fight!
He smirked and lunged, swinging his own blade up in a tight arc, and then down to the side at the last second. Sigil was left blocking high when he hit low, slashing the manÆs side through a chink in his armor and pulling back satisfied when first flimsy mail, then human skin and sinew, parted before his sword.
As they broke apart Sigil pressed one hand to his side; his dark leather glove came back dripping with crimson liquid. Kii mentally swore at the absence of vermilion or even scarlet; lifeblood that he hadnÆt quite freed. Not yet, anyway. He gambled by lunging again, this time taking a straight approach and relying on his own inherent speed to drive the swordÆs tip forward, aiming for SigilÆs heart.
His blade was knocked from his hands.
ôMeneterÆs grace,ö he choked, leaping backward with a shout as Sigil swung in and down, a sadistic grin lighting his normally delicate features. It couldnÆt end like this!
Kii danced back, a horrified expression meeting SigilÆs eyes as he followed his opponent. He quickly turned and ducked under SigilÆs swing, dashing back to his blade and grabbing it by the hilt. He barely had time to turn and bring his sword up to block, caught kneeling and panting, pale as bone, in the suddenly gritty, pleasantly warm street, a nearby silk tree providing dappled sunlight for them as he stared up at SigilÆs still, worried expression.
ôHey. You alright?ö
ôYeah, yeah.ö
The menacing grin returned to his face and Sigil bore down on him, the blood suddenly surrounding them again and the sunset beginning. The sky was a fiery scarlet that he longed to see elsewhere, deep claret at the edges where it began to fade to the endless black of night. The moon was in the western side of the sky already, a slender near-circle of glowing gold against a backdrop of red. And the dying sun, burning the clouds, glinting on them and dyeing them gold, scarlet, crimson by turn.
He gasped in a breath and lunged forward, taking a bit of a side path and they began to circle. The sunset died in a spray of fiery, burning blood, leaving behind a stain of deep red in AkerÆs realm to the far, far west.
Dusk covered the battlefield in soft half-darkness, deceptively light but erasing the finer things like chinks in armor and near-misses. He panted and so did Sigil, circling endlessly with a clash here or there, now far apart, now pressed against eachother, wrestling for the right to draw blood until one brought his blade down, the other dodged out, and they were apart again.
Night came in its blackness, leaving them blind and the only noise in the world. The stars swathed the sky above, and the absent moon kept their sight from them.
Still they spun, still they whirled, forgetful of the world around them, until Sigil stumbled and fell back against a dead manÆs shield. He coughed and his back arched up, giving Kii the perfect opening. But he didnÆt take it; he stepped closer and held his light, wooden sword back and away, tip dragging in the streetÆs sun-warmed dust.
ôHey. You alright?ö
ôYeah,ö Sigil coughed, sitting up. ôYeah.ö
He stood straight, his slender, short frame belying his strength and fire. Kii glared across at him and brought his sword back into both hands, making sure he was steady and could effectively block any hits.
So far he was the only one who had been hit, and it angered him to be in such a fight without more bloodshed. He dashed forward and drew his sword down KiiÆs body; the tip traced from his shoulder to his hip in a near-straight line, but didnÆt draw much blood. He doubted heÆd even done much damage; but all the same, blood was blood.
Blood that colored their chain mail red with a ghastly sheen, blood that stood blackest against their bodies in the dark of night. The soft summer air did little to soothe their wounds, bruises and scrapes, setting them spinning in a battle of endurance and will. Sigil nodded slightly as he noticed Kii miss a step, leaving himself open to a strike.
Metal squealed against metal and rang on armor. He grinned and pressed his blade down.
Kii bit back a wail and ducked away, the blade tearing through his shoulder and scraping his clavicle. Hot, thick blood gushed over him, and he lost his breath to a spell of dizziness that left him reeling and barely on his feet. Just as Sigil stepped forward and lunged again, he used the time that step had taken to bring his sword down and in, catching his other side. Sigil hissed and leapt back, his sword protectively in front of him.
They stood like that for a while, each giving the other a moment as their gazes unlocked for the first time in the battle. Kii gasped down a few breaths before he could finally stand the pain and relax, even a small bit, and deal with it as he formulated a plan.
He was waning. That was the simple truth.
While he had struck twice and Sigil only once when it came to injuries that could impede the fight, his one blow had been far more deadly. Blood was still pouring from him. He was beginning to get more dizzy. His shoulder hurt, yes, but it was strangely numb, and his head ached; his chest felt tight. He couldnÆt take more of this.
Kii winced as the blood began to soak into his pants as well. He didnÆt have much time and this needed to end quickly, anyway. It was too dark to see and he could barely keep his head up; he needed to finish his opponent quickly and easily.
He would have to die for this battle.
A wise man once said that being a hero meant making decisions no mortal should ever be forced to make. As Kii stared into the eyes of death itself, his heart thundering in his chest, he understood what that wise man had meant. But there was no turning back now.
He stood tall and proud, in his best fighting stance, and held his sword high.
ôFor Emmeria!ö
ôFor Vivia,ö called Sigil, rushing forward with him. ôAnd for the Voice of the Emperor!ö
They crashed together, and he felt a sword bite through him.
They met chest to chest, grappling, and the blade pressed further.
He fought and clawed until his opponent weakened and then he pinned him to the ground, hot blood soaking them through as they lay shaking with blades through their chests, pinned together in a macabre parody of a forgiving embrace.
ôF-Forà Vivi-ia,ö Kii whimpered, reaching up and tugging at SigilÆs visor. Sigil, below him, pulled it off and then repeated for his, wincing at the movement.
ôFor Emmeriaàö
ôAndà forà the Voiceàö
ôThe Voiceà of the Emperorà brotherà are youà angry?ö
Kii shook his head. ôAre youà? I.. wonàö
ôYou wonà IÆm happy. IÆllà always beà happy for myà big brother,ö Sigil smiled, closing his eyes. ôNowà r-restàweÆreà tiredàö
Kii choked back a sob as the body went lax beneath him, closing his own eyes in shame. Before he could form another thought, his vision flashed grey behind his eyelids and he suddenly knew no more.
ôSigil! Kii!ö
The boys sat up in the dirt, blinking. Kii stood and pulled the shovel handle from under his arm, tilting his head to one side.
ôWhat is it?ö
ôYou two fell asleep,ö Salin laughed. ôRight there in the roadà ahaha! Must have been quite the fight, eh, my warriors?ö
ôYou taught us well, CorpÆral,ö Sigil grinned, stretching to his feet and spinning the broomstick twice. ôWerenÆt you watching?ö he asked, indignant. Salin held up his hands in a defensive shield.
ôOh, I was watchingàö he shrugged. ôBut it must have been much better in your imaginations, hey? Come on and weÆll go get you some lunch and you can tell me all about it. IÆll even let you get chicken buns, two apiece.ö
ôChicken buns!ö
ôHow?ö
ôI found a rather rich traveler along the road yesterday. Oh, hopelessly lost.ö He covered his mouth to conceal his lips moving. ôAnd so ugly.ö His hand dropped. ôBut that traveler was so thankful that he rewarded me handsomelyà hence, the chicken buns. Maybe a bit of burnt sugar too, and some of TiwanuÆs red ale for me!ö
As the two brothers dusted themselves off and followed at his heels, Salin tipped his hat to Mien, dark cobalt hair shining in the afternoon sun.
ôWhat am I going to do with you three?ö Her tone was exasperated but she wore a true smile. Salin laughed and spun with a flourish, tossing the two swords back to their rightful owner.
ôLet us join the Army,ö he grinned, gesturing at the two warriors walking close and laughing together. ôCanÆt you see that weÆd make the best soldiers?ö
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Entry for Iron Fic 9
Original Fiction
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ôYou shut up!ö
ôNo you shut up!ö
ôNo you!ö
ôYou!ö
ôYou!ö
Salin watched the two boys playing in the sunlight with a quiet grin. He was sprawled against the porch of MienÆs home, the rough stone uneven but warm against his back. They were so happy. One grabbed the handle of a shovel whose spade was being reforged, the other picked up a broomstick.
Kii, the first boy, smirked and stood tall, one wrist flexed backwards to steady the broomstick against his back. He drew it out and away from himself in a near-perfect flourish, standing tall and proud. Before him, Sigil brought the shovelÆs handle down to his hips briefly in a mock entrance, evoking a sheathed sword, and then pulled it straight into a similar hold, taking a step back.
Kii mirrored him, puffing out his chest in a pose of honorable readiness. Salin had to hold back a laugh as they watched eachother almost nervously. Then suddenly, Sigil lunged forward, sword held high.
He was flying.
He was flying though bloodstained, rank, warm air, the harsh sunlight beating against his armor and flashing golden. His blade shone like lightning itself as he brought it down on his opponent, the one who hadùwell, did it matter? Their blades met in a shower of sparks and a crash of metal, and he was forced back, flying again, until his heavy black boots dug into the soil and he steadied himself, glaring across the space at his enemy.
As they glared at eachother Kii growled and tensed, thinking quickly. Sigil was an energetic but overly quick fighter; it was easy to get under him and block his hits without too much thought. He was able to parry him and force him back out of range, but for how long?
His energy would not last as long after his previous battles, and as he half-tripped over someoneÆs hand it struck him that maybe this was idiotic, fighting when they were the only ones left on the battlefield. Maybe they should just let it go. Leave this blood to be blood, let the world rush on, and know peace for once in their loud, quick lives.
àNaaah.
This was a fight!
He smirked and lunged, swinging his own blade up in a tight arc, and then down to the side at the last second. Sigil was left blocking high when he hit low, slashing the manÆs side through a chink in his armor and pulling back satisfied when first flimsy mail, then human skin and sinew, parted before his sword.
As they broke apart Sigil pressed one hand to his side; his dark leather glove came back dripping with crimson liquid. Kii mentally swore at the absence of vermilion or even scarlet; lifeblood that he hadnÆt quite freed. Not yet, anyway. He gambled by lunging again, this time taking a straight approach and relying on his own inherent speed to drive the swordÆs tip forward, aiming for SigilÆs heart.
His blade was knocked from his hands.
ôMeneterÆs grace,ö he choked, leaping backward with a shout as Sigil swung in and down, a sadistic grin lighting his normally delicate features. It couldnÆt end like this!
Kii danced back, a horrified expression meeting SigilÆs eyes as he followed his opponent. He quickly turned and ducked under SigilÆs swing, dashing back to his blade and grabbing it by the hilt. He barely had time to turn and bring his sword up to block, caught kneeling and panting, pale as bone, in the suddenly gritty, pleasantly warm street, a nearby silk tree providing dappled sunlight for them as he stared up at SigilÆs still, worried expression.
ôHey. You alright?ö
ôYeah, yeah.ö
The menacing grin returned to his face and Sigil bore down on him, the blood suddenly surrounding them again and the sunset beginning. The sky was a fiery scarlet that he longed to see elsewhere, deep claret at the edges where it began to fade to the endless black of night. The moon was in the western side of the sky already, a slender near-circle of glowing gold against a backdrop of red. And the dying sun, burning the clouds, glinting on them and dyeing them gold, scarlet, crimson by turn.
He gasped in a breath and lunged forward, taking a bit of a side path and they began to circle. The sunset died in a spray of fiery, burning blood, leaving behind a stain of deep red in AkerÆs realm to the far, far west.
Dusk covered the battlefield in soft half-darkness, deceptively light but erasing the finer things like chinks in armor and near-misses. He panted and so did Sigil, circling endlessly with a clash here or there, now far apart, now pressed against eachother, wrestling for the right to draw blood until one brought his blade down, the other dodged out, and they were apart again.
Night came in its blackness, leaving them blind and the only noise in the world. The stars swathed the sky above, and the absent moon kept their sight from them.
Still they spun, still they whirled, forgetful of the world around them, until Sigil stumbled and fell back against a dead manÆs shield. He coughed and his back arched up, giving Kii the perfect opening. But he didnÆt take it; he stepped closer and held his light, wooden sword back and away, tip dragging in the streetÆs sun-warmed dust.
ôHey. You alright?ö
ôYeah,ö Sigil coughed, sitting up. ôYeah.ö
He stood straight, his slender, short frame belying his strength and fire. Kii glared across at him and brought his sword back into both hands, making sure he was steady and could effectively block any hits.
So far he was the only one who had been hit, and it angered him to be in such a fight without more bloodshed. He dashed forward and drew his sword down KiiÆs body; the tip traced from his shoulder to his hip in a near-straight line, but didnÆt draw much blood. He doubted heÆd even done much damage; but all the same, blood was blood.
Blood that colored their chain mail red with a ghastly sheen, blood that stood blackest against their bodies in the dark of night. The soft summer air did little to soothe their wounds, bruises and scrapes, setting them spinning in a battle of endurance and will. Sigil nodded slightly as he noticed Kii miss a step, leaving himself open to a strike.
Metal squealed against metal and rang on armor. He grinned and pressed his blade down.
Kii bit back a wail and ducked away, the blade tearing through his shoulder and scraping his clavicle. Hot, thick blood gushed over him, and he lost his breath to a spell of dizziness that left him reeling and barely on his feet. Just as Sigil stepped forward and lunged again, he used the time that step had taken to bring his sword down and in, catching his other side. Sigil hissed and leapt back, his sword protectively in front of him.
They stood like that for a while, each giving the other a moment as their gazes unlocked for the first time in the battle. Kii gasped down a few breaths before he could finally stand the pain and relax, even a small bit, and deal with it as he formulated a plan.
He was waning. That was the simple truth.
While he had struck twice and Sigil only once when it came to injuries that could impede the fight, his one blow had been far more deadly. Blood was still pouring from him. He was beginning to get more dizzy. His shoulder hurt, yes, but it was strangely numb, and his head ached; his chest felt tight. He couldnÆt take more of this.
Kii winced as the blood began to soak into his pants as well. He didnÆt have much time and this needed to end quickly, anyway. It was too dark to see and he could barely keep his head up; he needed to finish his opponent quickly and easily.
He would have to die for this battle.
A wise man once said that being a hero meant making decisions no mortal should ever be forced to make. As Kii stared into the eyes of death itself, his heart thundering in his chest, he understood what that wise man had meant. But there was no turning back now.
He stood tall and proud, in his best fighting stance, and held his sword high.
ôFor Emmeria!ö
ôFor Vivia,ö called Sigil, rushing forward with him. ôAnd for the Voice of the Emperor!ö
They crashed together, and he felt a sword bite through him.
They met chest to chest, grappling, and the blade pressed further.
He fought and clawed until his opponent weakened and then he pinned him to the ground, hot blood soaking them through as they lay shaking with blades through their chests, pinned together in a macabre parody of a forgiving embrace.
ôF-Forà Vivi-ia,ö Kii whimpered, reaching up and tugging at SigilÆs visor. Sigil, below him, pulled it off and then repeated for his, wincing at the movement.
ôFor Emmeriaàö
ôAndà forà the Voiceàö
ôThe Voiceà of the Emperorà brotherà are youà angry?ö
Kii shook his head. ôAre youà? I.. wonàö
ôYou wonà IÆm happy. IÆllà always beà happy for myà big brother,ö Sigil smiled, closing his eyes. ôNowà r-restàweÆreà tiredàö
Kii choked back a sob as the body went lax beneath him, closing his own eyes in shame. Before he could form another thought, his vision flashed grey behind his eyelids and he suddenly knew no more.
ôSigil! Kii!ö
The boys sat up in the dirt, blinking. Kii stood and pulled the shovel handle from under his arm, tilting his head to one side.
ôWhat is it?ö
ôYou two fell asleep,ö Salin laughed. ôRight there in the roadà ahaha! Must have been quite the fight, eh, my warriors?ö
ôYou taught us well, CorpÆral,ö Sigil grinned, stretching to his feet and spinning the broomstick twice. ôWerenÆt you watching?ö he asked, indignant. Salin held up his hands in a defensive shield.
ôOh, I was watchingàö he shrugged. ôBut it must have been much better in your imaginations, hey? Come on and weÆll go get you some lunch and you can tell me all about it. IÆll even let you get chicken buns, two apiece.ö
ôChicken buns!ö
ôHow?ö
ôI found a rather rich traveler along the road yesterday. Oh, hopelessly lost.ö He covered his mouth to conceal his lips moving. ôAnd so ugly.ö His hand dropped. ôBut that traveler was so thankful that he rewarded me handsomelyà hence, the chicken buns. Maybe a bit of burnt sugar too, and some of TiwanuÆs red ale for me!ö
As the two brothers dusted themselves off and followed at his heels, Salin tipped his hat to Mien, dark cobalt hair shining in the afternoon sun.
ôWhat am I going to do with you three?ö Her tone was exasperated but she wore a true smile. Salin laughed and spun with a flourish, tossing the two swords back to their rightful owner.
ôLet us join the Army,ö he grinned, gesturing at the two warriors walking close and laughing together. ôCanÆt you see that weÆd make the best soldiers?ö
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