A Song of Silence

Chapter 97: A Fight in the Dark

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His broadsword came down and I barely managed to block it. He had put quite a bit of force into his blow this time. Now it was not a test of feeling each other out, but a matter of life and death. No longer was he confident and content to let my fear make me bow out before I cane to a fight. Now, he fought with brutal strength and rage. He fought to win because I had humiliated and turned the crowd against him. He was unhinged, angry, and vengeful. Perfect.

My daggers glanced off the thick armor that he wore and I barely managed to keep my grip on them and slide them back into their sheathes on my thighs. His victorious smile at my poor attempt to round him incensed me, but I didn't let it show. If there was one flaw we both had, it was pride. He may have let his get the better of him, but I was determined not to let the same thing happen to me. I grounded my feet in the sand and waited for his next move. I didn't have to wait long.

He grabbed the fishing net from his back and held it in his hand. A broadsword in one hand and a net in the other, I knew he wanted to skewer me quickly to get back some semblance of pride. His anger would make sure he didn't best me too quick, though. He came at me like lighting, the broadsword coming at me with the net somewhat hidden behind his back. When I deflected his blow, he no doubt intended to throw the next over me, so that my sword world get caught in it. He could the stab me very quickly through the stomach as I struggled to get free from the net. It was an easy and quick way to get rid of your opponent. Unfortunately for him, I had no intention of falling for that trick.

His blow was a hard as ever, but I saw his other arm moving up entrap me with the net. Using all my strength against the broadsword, I grabbed the shurikans hidden in the pockets of my armor and threw two just as the net was arcing at me. The shurikans, much to my fathers dismay, cut through the net with ease. When the net finally did reach me, all the remained was scraps of the once whole fabric. It did nothing to entangle me and my fathers next strike that was meant to fell me, did nothing of the sort. My broadsword met his and I saw his eyes widen once he realized his master plan had failed.

My foot struck out to put him off balance. Instead of making him stumble back so that I could regain some if my strength, his leg kicked out as well. Unable to bear the brunt of my fathers strength on one leg, my one grounded leg collapsed underneath me. My back hit the gritty sand and I saw my fathers sword follow me. Rolling out of the way, I quickly regained my balance and returned to my feet before having to meet my fathers sword once more. The crossbow I had stolen from my father now lay behind us, but my father didn't seem to notice. He was relentless in his barrage against me and I couldn't withstand it. Every blow against me, he pushed me back, little by little. And I could do nothing to stop it.

With every inch that he gained, my father's smile grew. He thought his victory was imminent and how could it not be, I couldn't outlast him. I couldn't outfight him. We were matched in most everything and I could not use my agility against brute force. That was a desperate fools play and I was no fool. At least, not right now. His continuous blows rocked my arms. My strength was not compared to his own. Not by a long shot. My father wasn't using any advanced moves either. He was just beating me down, weaker and weaker, until my strength failed me. Only then would he kill me. When I was at my weakest and I looked like a fool that anyone would be ashamed to remember.

My cheeks began to pink when I couldn't hide my embarrassment any longer. My father was playing with me. Humiliating me. Just for the fun of it. Just because he could. And I could do nothing to stop it. I was a fool to believe I could best him. To believe I could take him on. He had centuries on me. I would die today and there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My father pushed me back a final time and my back hit the far wall. Shit. He had pushed me back that far? I hadn't even realized. I looked up and I saw the utterly victorious smile on my fathers face. I was drained and tired and he knew it. I would not be able to block his next blow and he knew it. I knew it. The crowd knew it. We all knew it. A sigh of resignation escaped my lips before I could stop it.

My father noticed, of course, "What, Aerilynn? Giving up so soon?"

"Go to hell," escapes my rough, dry throat. Even with the white suit, I was exhausted and tired by the suns glare.

My answer seems to delight him, "Soon enough, my daughter, that is exactly where you will be. But not yet, I have to make your death very painful. I promised, did I not, and a male must keep his promises." As a last resort, I grab the rope that I had tied around my waist. It was thick and well made, but a last resort since it wasn't much of a weapon. My father notices and mocks me, "What, a rope? Hopi to hand yourself, my dear before I can make a fool out of you?" I ignore him and wrap the rope around my hand, while holding the length of it in the other. The Grand Assassin never taught anyone how to use daggers except for how to make a noose, so i no doubt look very foolish doing this, but at the moment, I don't really give a shit.

The crowd, now having turned on me, jeers at me and the rope that I now hold instead of the much more useful sword or daggers on my person. Ignoring their noise, I focus on my father and his next move. Confident in his ability to win, he takes his time. He rules up the crowd, allowing me to regain some of my strength, but at the same time humiliating me because I look like I am about to die. When he is finally done riling up the crowd, he turns back to me, his eyes predatory and vengeful. I have no doubt that he will make sure every hit he inflicted upon me will be agonizing. Slow and steady, but with all the force he can muster, my father swings his sword at me.

I move before he can register it. His sword hits the stone wall, but not before the tight knot I tied on one end is wrapped tightly around his wrist. His eyes widen before I yank the rope and sling the broadsword to the ground. Diving around him, i loop the rope through his legs and around his torso. Pulling the rope tight, my father falls straight on his face before he can stop himself. The crowd roars in laughter, but I ignore them in favor of getting this battle over and killing my father. Unlucky for me, I underestimated the man I had now partially tied up.

He flipped out from the ropes as his broadsword frayed and finally snapped the rope holding him. My dagger was descending towards a chink in his armor, but it was too late. He spring free and I wasn't quick enough. His broadsword got to me before I could stop it. Or more closely, my hand. The knife hit my wrist. Severing skin. Severing tendon. Severing bone. Quicker than I could register it, my hand was gone.