The clouds covered the moon as Alex skulked in an alleyway. She had a view of the shore-facing half of the street, through which she knew the van would cross first. This area was Hell's Boys territory, but they knew about the fight and said they'd stay out of it. Attached to her belt was the scabbard in which her sword rested, and her club was strapped to her back. Alex's jacket waved in the wind, and a neck gaiter concealed her identity. She waited.
The clouds covered the moon as Beatrice stood on the end of the street opposite to the shore, through which she knew the van would cross last. A mask resembling a phoenix concealed her face in its entirety, and a hooded capelet hid her identity further. The Vezenian coat of arms was proudly displayed on her chest, and her sheathed weapon was strapped to her hip. She waited.
The sound of a motor running started to approach. Alex grabbed her primary weapon, a one-handed wooden club with several metal studs across it. She channeled her mana into it, and the enchantment glyphs that adorned each stud started to glow. The sound of tires screeching hit her ears, and she assumed the driver had noticed the spike strip. Not good, she thought. She focused as she ran to cast a kinetic spell on herself, more commonly known as a dashing spell. The spell flung her forward, creating a trail of red light behind her.
The sound of a motor running started to approach. Beatrice drew her weapon, a sabre, elegantly balanced with an intricate swept hilt. She channeled her mana into it, and the enchantment glyphs that adorned its blade started to glow. She saw the van approach, then screech to a halt as the driver noticed her. She decided to end this quickly and painlessly. She reached into her satchel, preparing to cast a heat spell, and calculating a way to avoid hitting the driver.
As Alex rapidly approached the vehicle, she noticed something and stopped. A sphere, a little smaller than a volleyball, was flying towards the van, as if it had been tossed. It seemed to be ablaze. She froze for a moment, realizing that was a fireball.
Alex cast another dashing spell, this time backward, then shut her eyes and covered her ears. The sound of the explosion was almost deafening, even with her ears covered. When she opened her eyes, she saw the van, toppled over, on fire, and the driver running away. No fucking way she's sharing the pay with whoever just stole her job from her, she thought, as she slowly walked into the open, weapon in hand.
Beatrice watched as another person, masked and armed, emerged from an alleyway. A caravan guard, she assumed. Her orders were to stop the shipment, not kill all involved, so she decided to give this woman a chance to leave. Besides, she'd just used her only fireball, so a fight would be risky. Beatrice shouted:
"In the name of the Emperor, stop right there!"
Alex turned to face the... Knight? What? She was immediately confused. On one hand, she should probably kill this imperialist goon. On the other, she was curious. She decided to have a little chat before the fight. She spread her arms, leaving her core exposed as a taunt, and with her voice raised so she could be heard over the flames, she said:
"So... Vezenian Empire! Far from home, ain'tcha? The fuck y'all want 'ere?"
Beatrice produced two long copper needles connected to strings from one of her uniform's many pockets. She held them between her fingers. Alex recognized them: Channel opposite lighting spells through each needle and you can have someone on the ground in seconds. Beatrice, with her blade pointed at the mercenary, responded:
"That is not for you to know, criminal scum! I will give you one chance to surrender and leave unharmed. If you do not accept it, I will be forced to respond with lethal force!"
"Ooo, yeah, real scary!" Alex snarked.
They now walked, tracing a circle with their steps while maintaining the same distance. They sized each other up, and neither was impressed.
"Dunno why you're here, but Rooksbury's my city, and I'm more'n happy to keep you fuckin' colonizers outta it!" Alex continued, twirling her club.
"It will always sadden me to take a life," Beatrice stated with what sounded like genuine sorrow. "But you've made your choice."
"If murder makes ya sad, then ya haven't seen half the shit that I have," Alex mocked.
They stopped moving and readied their combat stances. Only the sound of the dancing flames could be heard as the moon, now clearly visible, was reflected within the water's surface.
It started.
Alex quickly grabbed a small throwing knife from inside her jacket and threw it. Beatrice shot out her lightning needles and focused her mana into a kinetic spell, cast on the air in front of her. The resulting shockwave stopped the knife. Alex cast a dashing spell to the side, dodging the needles.
"C'mon, let's dance!" Alex taunted
They both darted forward, meeting in the middle. The mercenary swung laterally, and the knight blocked it with practiced ease. As their weapons made contact, the glyphs searched for solid matter to rip apart. Finding only air, the enchantments produced a gust of wind, the howl of which echoed through the street, alongside the sound of clashing metal.
With a flick of her wrist, Beatrice attacked twice in circular motions and advanced as Alex dodged backward.
"Was that Rondanelli's cut?" Alex questioned. "I'm usin' a club! Domangelo's the obvious pick."
"Rondanelli is more fitting against inexperienced opponents," she responded, parrying a knife Alex had thrown as she spoke.
The mercenary cast a dashing spell in an upwards diagonal, kicked off a wall, and threw two more knives as she fell, landing with a downwards swing that her opponent sidestepped.
"Tell me—" Beatrice said, throwing her lightning needles and rushing forward. "—How did one such as you learn about the old masters?"
"If I'm gonna kill people for a livin', I'ma learn to do it right," Alex responded, dodging a cut and deflecting a thrust.
"A respectable philosophy," Beatrice remarked, pausing to effortlessly deflect an overhead swing from her opponent. "It is a shame you fight for fortune."
They both backed away, preparing for another exchange. Alex responded:
"I fight for my fortune, you fight for the Emperor's fortune. Same shit."
Beatrice did not like that response. She rushed forward and delivered an ascending cut. Alex dodged to the side, mocking:
"Missed me!"
Beatrice delivered another cut; a high, horizontal one. Alex merely stepped away and moved her head back, dodging the attack.
"Nice aim-!" the mercenary's taunt was cut short by her opponent casting a kinetic shockwave spell, which knocked her off-balance. Before she realized it, she had her back turned to the enemy, whose diagonal cut connected with Alex.
Blood stained the back of her now damaged jacket as she cast a dashing spell to retreat. She turned back to the knight, who stood proud, blood being repelled away from her blade by its enchantment.
"You were saying?" Beatrice taunted.
Alex recomposed herself and smiled. Noticing she had dropped her club, she drew her sidearm: a slightly curved, single-edged sword with a round guard. The knight drew several silver needles from one of her uniform's many pockets, holding them in between her fingers. The mercenary, deducing her opponent's next move, started to channel mana. Cut's not too deep, so this should work, she thought. A subtle glow began emanating from the inside of her jacket.
Beatrice threw the needles with blinding speed and precision, drew several more, and threw them again. Alex finished channeling into her enchantment. Her heart rate sped up tremendously. The glyphs that adorned her spine and the back of her head glowed fiercely. Colors appeared saturated in her vision, and a familiar tingling sensation ran through her body as her nervous system went into overdrive.
From the mercenary's perspective, the needles now moved slowly. The quarter-second she had to react turned into a quarter-minute. The flames only barely moved, and her opponent was almost completely frozen in place. Alex jumped atop the van, in a single move—something only possible due to her muscles being put into unimaginable stress. The fire didn't have the time to spread to her as she darted towards her enemy, having circumvented the barrage of needles. She pushed Beatrice's blade to the side with her hand, then cut twice: once diagonally across the face, cutting the knight's mask in half, then at the thighs.
As the effects of the enchantment started to fade, she reached into her jacket and took out a small autoinjector. She jabbed her arm with it, and her system slowed back down. It was close—a few more seconds, and the enchantment would have killed her.
From the knight's perspective, her opponent became a blur that moved atop the van, then in front of her, and then backed away. She felt a sharp pain and blood staining her dark uniform. She looked down and examined the cut. Her femoral arteries had been sliced open; she had four minutes left to live, at most. Beatrice fell to her knees, stabbing her sword against the ground and leaning on it.
Alex stood over her opponent.
"...How?" Beatrice said, her voice weak.
"Blitz, a Bioenchantment. Look..." Alex took off her gaiter and crouched, getting on the knight's level.
"You fought good, real good," Alex said trying to catch her breath. "But it's over now. If you got anythin' to say, any prayers or dyin' rites... Now's the time."
As Beatrice's pale complexion became paler, she thought about why she was here at all. To defend her nation? On paper, yes, but there was more to it than that. It was a belief that brought her here. She held the notion that good would always triumph over evil, that, no matter what, the noble knight would defeat the villains. Yet, there she was, dying, defeated by a villain as simple as a mercenary.
No.
It could not happen.
It would not happen.
She would not let a mere mercenary prove her wrong.
She was Beatrice Woodhearth, of House Woodhearth, and she would always triumph over evil. Always.
As Alex walked away, Beatrice focused all the strength she could muster into a heat spell, cast on the pommel of her sword. Once it reached the precise temperature, she pressed it against her wounds. The pain was excruciating, but she had trained for this. Her wounds now cauterized, she stood and pointed her blade at the mercenary. With her voice shaky and breathless, she said:
"Leaving already?"
Alex turned around, then remarked:
"...You really don't know when to give up, do ya?"
Beatrice smiled, then responded:
"Why would I give up when you used your last resort?"
Alex chuckled in exasperation.
"Bioenchantments tire the user, I know that much," Beatrice explained. "And you just used yours. Considering my injuries... we're evenly matched."
"If we do this, we're both prolly gonna die, you know that?" Alex questioned.
"A risk I am willing to take," Beatrice responded.
They began to approach each other, slowly. Once they reached effective range, Alex swung and missed. Beatrice thrust, and Alex deflected. Beatrice continued to press her blade against Alex's, until they were in grappling range. The knight, suddenly moving faster than Alex expected, placed her hand on the mercenary's shoulder. A blue light began to emanate from the hand that touched her.
"I win," Beatrice said, her voice strained by the effort.
"How d'ya figure that?" Alex questioned, still pushing against her opponent's blade.
"As I speak, my right hand is channeling a positive lightning spell through your body," the knight said. "If I channel a negative through my sword hand, the circuit would be completed. You would die quickly, and painfully."
"And why haven't ya?" the mercenary asked, smiling confidently.
"I don't know yet," Beatrice responded. "Give me a reason not to kill you."
"Shit... Intel? I can get you a meet with the client," Alex calmly stated.
Beatrice stayed silent for a few seconds which felt like hours. She analyzed her enemy. The expression, the rounded ears, the dark, curled hair, the caramel skin and the scar that ran across the side of her face, starting at the chin and ending on the lower lip.
"My mission was to destroy the caravan. That was it. You," Beatrice paused. "are of no use to the Empire."
Alex analyzed her enemy. The expression, the pointed ears, the pale, freckled face, the strange, sun-shaped earrings, the red braids and the visible youth. An idea struck her. She smiled in an unbearably arrogant manner as she said:
"You look real young for a knight."
Beatrice narrowed her eyes.
"Lemme guess—squire?" The mercenary asked.
"Ain't used to killin', 'specially not all up close and personal like this," she continued.
Beatrice briefly diverted her gaze from Alex's, before correcting her error and returning her look towards her enemy, who noticed what happened and said:
"I know what a murderer looks like. There's somethin' special about the eyes a' someone who's killed before, and when I look at you? I don't see it. 'Sides, if you were gonna kill me, you would'a done it already. But 'ey-" Alex grinned menacingly. "-Ya could always prove me wrong. So, go ahead. Do it. Kill me."