Sword That Fears Nothing

Emiko's ground shook beneath her as the darkness inside the warrior spilled over, a crazy storm brewing. Black arms wrapped around him, writhing and untangling in unnatural, as-if-it-merits-worth, lifelike motion.

This wasn't the same.

He used to push her limits. Now, he was really fighting.

His weight bore down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Even the golden fire that wrapped around her wavered, fighting against the suffocating darkness.

Emiko braced her fists.

No turning back now.

She took a deep breath, golden energy arcing at her fingertips. The ember inside of her flared, incinerating residual pain in her body.

The warrior's silver eyes fixed on her, unemotional.

"Let us see how long you last."

And he was gone.

Emiko had hardly time to move out of the way before he faced her, his black sword falling.

She dodged it by inches to the side.

The impact of the blow cracked the stone she'd been on, cracks radiating out. Dust and wreckage hung in the air, but Emiko did not let up, attacking.

Her fist blazed with golden flame as she punched at his ribcage.

The warrior parried with ease, his forearm absorbing the impact. Before she could retreat, he struck again—a knee to her stomach.

She sprang back just in time, but he was relentless.

A second strike. A third.

His sword swooped like a dark shadow, cutting through the air with deadly accuracy.

Emiko dodged, struggling to keep up. Every move she made was met by something faster, sharper.

She was being overwhelmed.

The Will to Stand

The warrior changed position abruptly.

Something was approaching.

Emiko braced herself.

In a flash, a burst of black energy burst outward, rushing towards her like a wave.

Her mind screamed—get out!

She jumped, doing a somersault in mid-air as the attack swept across the ground beneath her, leaving a wound on the ground.

But he jumped before she could.

No time to get out of the way.

She crossed her arms, summoning all the golden flames she could.

His blade struck—

The impact sent her crashing to the ground, her back slamming against the stone. A sharp pain shot through her ribs, stealing the air from her lungs.

Dust rose around her as she gasped, struggling to push herself up.

The warrior landed a few feet away, watching her with quiet intensity.

"You're not dead," he remarked. "Impressive."

Emiko wiped blood from her lip and glared at him. "Is that a compliment?"

His lips twitched into a faint smile, his eyes seeming to crinkle at the corners.

"You're strong," he said. "But you fight like a person with no idea of your own strength."

Emiko's fingers buried into the dirt. "Then I'll learn."

She launched to her feet.

Her body groaned in protest, but she didn't stay where she was.

The warrior looked at her, as if arguing with himself. Then he took one slow step closer, lowering his sword by an inch.

"There is a distinction between fighting to live—" he drew his blade back up again, his gaze keen "—and fighting to win."

A spark of realization fell into position in Emiko's mind.

She had been fighting to live this entire time. Responding. Blocking. Not losing.

But she had never fought to win.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for an instant.

Then, she released.

The gold fire within her burst forth.

Her strength blazed, brighter and more incandescent than before. The light did not merely blaze—it pulsed, with intent.

The warrior mask-face didn't shift, but she noticed the strain in the way his fingers tightened about the hilt of his sword a fraction more.

Good. Let's see you try that.

Emiko stepped forward.

She charged, quicker than ever before, her fire lighting up a path of gold behind. When she spanned the ground, she set to him—at him—punches, kicks, one harder, one truer.

The warrior batted, but he was retreating now himself.

Her fists were finding hold.

A fist caressed his ribcage. A kick sent his blade at an angle.

She was not simply falling into step for the first time.

She was pushing him backward.

Their fight was a blur of motion—fire meeting darkness, golden energy meeting black. The wasteland trembled beneath them, the energy of their blow sending shockwaves through the air.

Emiko's breathing was hard and fast, but she was alive.

She wasn't fighting by rote anymore.

She was fighting to win.

The warrior then jumped back, putting space between them.

His silver eyes sparkled in the poor light.

"Better," he told her. "Much better."

And then he drew his sword.

A dark tide of dark energy built around him, whirling into the sword like a tempest in flesh. The air thickened, filled with raw, untempered power.

This would be his last strike.

Emiko waited no more.

She lifted her hands, calling upon all that was within her.

Golden flames burst to life, encircling her in a vortex of fire. The ember within her did not merely burn—it devoured.

The warrior breathed out.

And then—they both struck.

When their powers crashed against each other, the world basically shattered.

Light and dark combined, power sending shockwaves outward in all directions. Earth cracked wide under them, openings spreading like a network of veins.

Time froze, temporarily.

And then—

Explosion of brilliant white light encased both of them.