Not every one of them.
But priests’ strength is in their numbers, and the loss of even one weakens them.
“Focus!” Learned Mujin snaps. “Don’t let her win!”
Bizarrely, I want to laugh, or maybe to cry.
Can’t he see that I’m losing?
Or maybe this was always part of his plan, and I am simply playing my part.
Thisiswho I am, after all, isn’t it? Inescapably everyone’s nightmare.
Everyone except for Zan, who stands in front of me, and thatalsomakes me want to cry—and rage, at the injustice, that standing with me only endangers the one person who cares aboutmeand sees me as more than a monster.
Fueled by my wrath, my next kata is faster; with the priests’ unity itself under assault, they cannot work as quickly or as powerfully.
This time, I step around Zan to blast Eraya directly, a stream of magenta erupting from my hand.
It crashes into her and physically blows her backward, toppling the priests behind her.
Not the most powerful working I’m capable of, not by a long shot.
But against a group this small, using stolen power they don’t understand, it doesn’t need to be.
Because even though I’ve already lost, some part of me can’t bring myself to give up what I now realize I secretly, ridiculously hoped for.
A chance to bejusta monster.
A chance to bemore.
Am I simply in denial? Probably. Maybe I am only making myself smaller, by not embracing the full violence I’m capable of.
But maybe I am desperately hanging onto a dream that I can barely even recognize the shape of yet.
The priests don’t help Eraya up. I don’t expect them to, of course; I understand full well that they don’t consider her a person, merely a body to absorb damage, to grant them the power they believe they deserve.
Eraya no doubt believes this is how she can serve best.
But maybe someday she’ll think about what it means that a dragon defended me, but none of her caretakers defended her.
The priests ready another attack nonetheless, but I don’t wait for them.
“Keep them from destroying the cottage?” I ask Zan quietly.
“Done,” he says.
Because this is what it means for someone to have my back. To be able to trust them to trust me, and respect my goals and abilities.
Thatis worth fighting for; making space for.
And it enables me to move.
I dash right past the priests, who shift rapidly into defense.
Past Mujin who tries to bodily block me, but after only a few traded blows I’m past him. Although I deliberately—and probably foolishly—don’t disable him, leaving him to bark orders in my wake; leaving the priests toseethat I didn’t disable him, and maybe, if I am luckier than I believe, to think about what that means.
Past Eraya who has gotten to her feet and tries to beat me to Teren, except that she’s not trained for self-defense because she depends on others for that—because she has outsourced care of herself to people whodon’tcare to protect her.
