We desired to be together. I did with my entirety, but she did only half. A part of her wanted to be with me and a part didn’t. Her words descended as cruel speech from a father upon his child. My inside ached, but I understood. I respected Decay and it would feel as a betrayal on my behalf.
As I treaded back to sulk into the darkness, my thoughts wouldn’t leave me alone. Nevertheless, I was rescued. The five steps that felt like kilometers were interrupted by the calling of my name. I turned and faced back. I couldn’t deny her voice.
It was unexpected, yet perfect.
Our lips touched.
Thoughts left my head and only a calm peaceful tide could be felt. Rejuvenating.
At the end, we knew words would not help at anything. We had already been careless for exposing ourselves in public, but it seemed worth it.
I smiled. She smiled back.
Then her eyes felt empty and her body fell.
Half of Decay’s sword had already pierced her from behind.
I drew my sword and as a reaction his lackeys arrived.
I used the opportunity to swing my blade. In a swift movement he retrieved his from her body and the blood escaped from the wound dragging her life with it.
The scene held my eyes in place almost long enough to join her. The high pitched swing of the blade woke me up and I evaded just in time. He held no grudge at attacking and drew a second sword from his belt. My avenging chances were slimming.
His men approached as well, but they were no match. As always, stupid enough to follow and stupid enough to fight. They lacked the intellect and the ability to truly assess the situation and confirmed the definition of disposable henchmen.
With one thrust I cut open three chests. Their leather armor was red and prevented much of the blood from being seen. An old technique to diminish the opponent’s moral. Luckily the falling of bodies and screams of agony easily substituted the strategy.
Decay seemed to laugh. I could not be sure. It was dark and he wanted me dead. I had no idea a kiss could change that much.
I wanted to swing, but my arm faltered. It hurt. It bled. Decay had somehow hit me.
My thoughts were in my way. They kept me out of focus. Where was her body?
Another musical attack headed my way. The sound metal cutting the air felt unpleasantly close.
I rapidly crouched and then tackled him with my shoulder. It worked.
Decay lost his balance. Holding two swords did not help regain the standing position. He tripped backwards, unfortunately on her body, and fell helpless.
One blade on the floor and the other held with both arms. He cowered. He acted as a child, upon the sight of a hungry bear, would.
But the bear had no words. The bear’s heart ached. The bear’s soul felt void. The bear wanted blood.
With one hit his sword flew far away. He held his clenched fists up and thought they would protect him. I took no chances. I cut them off.
I dropped tears from my eyes and the sword from my hand. I dropped my closed fist on his face. A successive session of blows and punches at first hit the flesh. Screams accompanied most of them and fueled my rage.
Some time later they stopped and I started to feel the hard and impenetrable tarmac. It seemed over.
I got up and searched for her. Tainted red and with a pale base she laid there on the floor. Back punctured and without a soul. I held her next to me. I hugged her hopping comfort would come out of it.
Decay knew everything, which meant he was a spy. A public enemy dressed in red armor portraying the eagle emblem. A traitor to the nation. And I, a traitor to a friendship.
It was all betrayal. Did the reason or consequences matter?
I would ensure they would both get a proper burial.
Would I deserve one too?