I rose to my feet quickly, not wasting any time. I rushed him again, and this time, our blades met.
It’d been a long time since I moved like this. I’d dreamed about it for years, itching to return to the form I once loved.
Now, I’d get to see how rusty I was.
The rhythm of my breathing was paced and typical of combat, but Derrick stood still—as if he weren’t breathing at all.Didn’t he get tired?
Annoyed, I swung my blade horizontally through the air, but he dodged it effortlessly.
“You’re out of practice,” he said, his voice low and monotone.
I scowled, thrusting my blade against his hard enough that it sparked.
“Shocking, right?” I spat. “Maybe if you hadn’t vanished for two years, I wouldn’t be.”
“Three,” he said, thrusting my blade away and knocking me back several paces.
I paused to catch my breath, never taking my eyes off him.
He was right—my missing year.
I lunged, gripping the hilt with both hands, driving it forward from my hip. A loud cry escaped my lips. I put all my might into the thrust, aiming straight for his chest.
Everything stopped.
I didn’t move or breathe as I watched him. My blade pierced his sternum, only a fraction, but enough that the black material of his clothing soaked to a darker shade of black. His hands clapped over the blade, as if in prayer, holding it steady and firmly in place.
“Is a blood sacrifice enough to quell your fury for today?” he asked, his voice steady and unchanged.
I gasped as he shoved me, my grip on the blade slipping as I fell to the ground.
He dislodged the tip of the sword from his chest and returned it to the sheath at his hip.
I stared at the cut in his shirt. I knew it was deeper than a scratch, but he didn’t react to it at all. Seeing his blood, knowing it was my doing, broke something within me.
Thick, solid tears threatened to fall.
“Why?” I whispered. “Why did you have to leave?”
Derrick neared me, kneeling before me.
“I shouldn’t have. Please, Anna, forgive me.”
An endless warmwind blew my hair about my shoulders as I stood at the cliffside that overlooked the valley. There was a storm on the horizon, dark clouds coming in with the night. I was at the edge where the stone jutted out, providing the best view of the horizon. The intense glow of the light’s rays being consumed by the storm forced my eyes open. Derrick watched next to me.
Deep shadows stretched behind us, the light casting an eerie glow that bathed the trees along the valley.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked.
Derrick’s silence wasn’t like other people’s. Other people had to find the right thing to say and still let it spill out of their mouths all wrong.
Not Derrick.
He already knew what he was going to say. He probably knew the question I was going to ask. And I already knew he wasn’t going to tell me.
Because that was how he was.
“I am sorry I could not be there for you, Anna,” he said.
