CHAPTER 41
PROTAGONIST: JOHN HEDEKIRA
The force of Kiilda’s first attack makes me stumble backwards, flailing my arms in an attempt to stay on my feet. I right myself just in time to block its second attack. I was expecting Kiilda to be set upon killing me; I figured that that was all It cared about. I showed up here, dangling from a chain in a giant hole in the ground, to fight to the death.
For my sister.
Nevertheless, the proficiency of Kiilda is startling. For being so large, Kiilda moves with agility and speed that even I don’t possess. And of course the monster possesses strength; It is made of stone.
But there’s more to it than that; there’s more to the fear and sense of intimidation that is being driven into my heart. Kiilda shows no expression. Its face never changes. The monster charges after me, Its mouth hanging open, a dull, ghoulish look etched across Its face. The truth is, as I stand my ground, blocking blow after blow, I finally come to understand the inhumanness of Kiilda. The feeling is so real; the recognition cannot hold any falsity. I have experienced this thing for ten seconds…and I can already sense that It isn’t even alive. I can sense that It has no soul.
I feel my heart drop to my stomach. Shivering inwardly, I think to myself, It’s like It’s…a doll. A body without a soul.
I deflect a slash for my face, ducking underneath my sword, and then I take a chance and stab for Kiilda’s stomach. Kiilda was lunging after me, leaving Its body completely exposed. Maybe It thought that I would have been too focused on defending myself to attack. Or maybe it makes no such considerations at all. Either way, I already know my sword will meet its mark.
Kiilda pivots in the air, narrowly evading the tip of my blade. I grunt; Kiilda is right in front of me, past my guard, Its sword held at the ready. The red eyes of the monster bore me; Kiilda’s gaze is so intense, I can’t look away. As It closes in on me, I feel as if I am locked in place.
And then Gus’s words return to me, the man who warned my about the things Kiilda could do. Don’t let him cut you! I mentally scream to myself.
I drop to the ground, falling backwards and somersaulting away from Kiilda. Right as I do, Kiilda uppercuts, holding his blade with two hands. The attack could split my head in two. As I descend into my backwards somersault, I watch his black blade flash right past my face. My eyes widen with shock, but at the same time, relief sweeps through me; I almost died. Almost.
As I duck into my somersault, Kiilda leaps over me to avoid tripping. Immediately as I rise, I bolt forward in the opposite direction. Kiilda is at my back, but I want to place distance between us before I turn around to confront It. As I sprint, more of Gus’s advice returns to me. “Kill Kiilda quickly. Don’t let Kiilda cut you; Its blade turns flesh into stone.”
The sound of Kiilda’s heavy footsteps seem to echo in my ears, and Its coming seems to make the ground tremble. I whirl around dropping to my knee, and I position my sword horizontally above me, holding near the tip of the blade with my left hand for support. Kiilda’s over-the-head attack comes crashing down on my blade. I grit my teeth, a tremor shooting through my arms.
Kiilda stares down at me, directly at my eyes. Ever since I arrived, It hasn’t looked anywhere else. I fight back against Kiilda’s strength, staring back defiantly. I grunt and push, trying to hold the monster’s weapon back. But then I can no longer return its stare; and after that, I can no longer hold back Its attack. How can I stare back with sanity into the eyes of a monster that isn’t even alive? How can I match the strength of a demon made of stone?
This beast lacks a soul. It lacks personality. It shows no emotion; It is not frustrated. It is not tired. It is not even alive.
And yet, as I fight back against the might of this dead warrior, I find myself wondering desperately, Who am I against this beast?
I’ve had success with it before; I let Kiilda come forward, somersaulting backwards. I escape Its blade, and land on my feet. Kiilda has already lunged after me, Its blade arcing for my head. My foot slides in a semi-circle as I sidestep the attack. Right at that moment, Kiilda’s arms are extended, directly in front of me. I swing my sword up and around my head, gaining momentum, and with a cry that allows me to pour my fear and bewilderment into this strike, I cut down with all my might.
My sword collides with Kiilda’s right wrist…but I penetrate nothing. My sword rebounds off of the stone. I grunt; Dammit! I think, fear shooting through me.
Kiilda leans backwards, and to my surprise, Its foot comes upwards and quickly kicks me away, landing the blow right on my abdomen. I groan, the attack so strong—inhumanly strong—I fly through the air. I hit the ground once, and then roll, and then again. I feel myself losing grip of my sword.
Disconcertedness and terror make time slow. I hover over the enormous hole in the ground from which I entered this world, the deepness and blackness looming beneath me. I feel my sword begin to slip, about to fall into the darkness below, but as I roll in the air, I clasp the end of the hilt with all my might. Time seems to speed up once again, and I cross over remaining distance of the hole, the speed of my body carrying me to safety. I role and bounce myself up to my feet as I land. I inhale and exhale deeply, attempting to get in as many breaths as possible. That was close.
I’ve never fought a battle like this before. I’ve been in bad situations; the odds have been against me. I’ve been the one that was supposedly weaker. But this is a new, strange world, and this is a new, powerful creature.
No…not a creature, my instincts tell me.
Kiilda is the god of this world.
I don’t know why, but in response to that thought, the Word comes to mind. And so does “he”: a mystical lender of strength…the most powerful warrior that ever lived. I bow my head in determination, glaring, and I clench my blade tighter. “Let’s just see about that!” I roar.
PROTAGONIST SWITCH: FAITH PINCK
My feet thud gently as I walk down the dark corridor in Castrum Fortress. I’m not trying to be quiet, but the darkness makes me feel as if I shouldn’t be loud. Also, I don’t want to disturb anyone; this is the infirmary of Castrum Fortress, and I know that there are many warriors here recuperating from the attack on Howaito Maki. Of course, that’s part of the reason why I’m here; I came to visit someone. In my hands I carry two small cakes that I baked down in the kitchen. The chefs offered to make them for me, but I didn’t think it would mean as much if I hadn’t baked them myself.
I come to a halt before the room I’m looking for and, still holding the cakes, I knock on the door as adequately as I can. “Come in,” I hear someone say. With only a little difficulty, I manage to grasp the doorknob and let myself in.
I’m glad I have the right room. I smile softly as I enter to a girl sitting upright in her bed, who looks both weary and well-rested. She smiles softly back at me. Her name is Frances Beznar; she’s a captain of Castrum Fortress and daughter of Lord Beznar, ruler of the castle. She looks small, nestled beneath her covers in a white robe, her face etched with a steady drag of pain and exhaustion. Nonetheless, I know firsthand that her appearance is deceiving. She is a captain for a reason. I’ve never seen such a skilled female warrior. And she’s even younger than I.
“Hey, Frances,” I say, making sure my voice isn’t too loud. I approach her bed.
“Hey, Faith,” she smiles wearily back at me. She sits up a little straighter as I reach her bed.
“How are you feeling?” I ask. I know it’s a silly question; of course she’s in pain. But I’m inquiring to be considerate.
She manages to shrug slightly, answering, “It doesn’t feel great. I’m lucky that Ashida found me when he did. I don’t think I would’ve made it, had it not been for him.”
“You were lucky to have survived at all anyway,” I agree. The day of the battle, Frances had fought the Gray Captain, one of the most powerful Evil in Howaito Maki. She won, but nearly di
ed in the process. When Bernard and I found her and Ashida, she was already unconscious. She had been stabbed right through the stomach. It’s more than luck that she survived; it’s a miracle. “I’m sure you must be tired,” I say, “but I just wanted to visit you and give you one of these.” I extend one of the cakes to her.
“Oh, thanks!” she says, seeming genuinely grateful, accepting the cake. “Did you make these yourself?”
“Mhm,” I say. I’ve always been good at cooking and baking; I learned when I was little, and it’s always been a helpful skill. I used to live on my own too, so I’ve had plenty of reason to practice it.
“Have you seen Ashida at all?” Frances asks, looking up from the cake.
“No, not yet,” I say. “That’s who this is for.” I gesture, indicating the remaining cake in my left hand.
“All right,” Frances smiles again, “thank you again.”
I understand the gentle nudge. “Good-bye,” I say. “I hope you feel better.”
“Thanks,” she says in a small voice.
I turn away from her and exit the room, closing the door behind me gingerly.
Satisfied with my visit, I continue down the hallway until I find Ashida’s room. He wasn’t injured as badly as Frances; in fact, he was far more stable. But, having battled the Black Captain—another supernaturally powerful monster—he was still in need of medical attention. I rap on his door twice, hoping that he’s not asleep. There’s a moment of hesitation, but then I hear his voice say, “Come in.”
I tentatively push the door open, stepping my way in with as much serenity and placidity as I can muster. In general, it isn’t unreasonable for me to visit Ashida. But my relationship with him is very different from my relationship with Frances. The first reason being that he is a man, of course, and a full-grown one. But he is also a high-ranking warrior of Castrum Fortress; a mage, in fact. He is above me, so to speak, and I wonder how much my visit will mean to him. Perhaps, he might even be annoyed. Yet, I’ve been determined to come to him; he has been profoundly helpful to me and John and Bernard. Without him, we wouldn’t have been able to rescue Frater, John’s little brother.
Nonetheless, there is another cause that encourages me to feel awkward and shy—even fearful—around him. Ashida had been the one to inspire an attack against Howaito Maki. I only learned recently that his main drive wasn’t just to wipe out the Evil remaining in the city; it was also to rescue his wife, one of the many prisoners that the Evil were holding. However, despite much searching, she was nowhere to be found. Ashida, quite understandably, became increasingly frustrated. It is more than just physical wounds that keep him isolated and out of commission.
“Faith,” Ashida says, a small smile touching his lips…but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes.
“Hello, sir,” I say, stepping deeper into the room. “I wanted to stop in and see how you were doing. I also made you something down in the kitchen.”
His smile broadens a little. “Did you now? That’s very kind of you.”