"You heard me." John said, his gaze firm and unwavering in the face of Marion's scowl.
"Well, what would I apologize for?" The man replied, his body now shifting to face John head on.
"The harsh things you said to her."
"You know, I would be open to it normally but unfortunately I'm not sorry at all. I meant what I said." Marion then started walking closer to John until they were face to face. "Every. Last. Word."
John's fist clenched in anger, however, before he could say or do anything back to the man he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was pulled back slightly, getting turned around to see the face of a confused Sherryl. "Hold on, what are you doing? Please don't fight. This is the complete opposite reason that I brought you here!"
John grabbed her hand, gently taking it off his shoulder. "I know you wanted me to talk things out…. but I just can't. I already told him how I would make up for my blunder that cost Mary's life, but now he's going to make up for his blunder."
Marion titled his head to the side, his voice dressed in hubris. "What did I do that was a mistake?"
John turned back to the pink-haired man, effectively cutting Sherryl out of the conversation. "Taking your anger and resentment out on someone who had nothing to do with Mary's death. You acted as if Annerose had no feelings, that she wasn't close with your sister, or the rest of your bloodline. You don't know a thing!" His voice was full of anger. He felt a heat burning in his chest as he spoke candidly.
From when the spirit contract had been passed to him, he saw some of Anneroses' memories. He could sense how happy she felt when being held by who he now believed was Mary's mother, as well as how sad she'd been as she sat beside the same woman on her deathbed. Annerose was no parasite; she was a genuinely kind and caring girl.
"Well, isn't that rich? An outsider telling me what I do or don't know. Tch, whatever, this is a waste of time. I truly don't have any intention of apologizing but the only possible way I would is if I was beaten into submission. Do you think you're capable of that, Mr. Selvic?"
As Marion spoke, John couldn't help but believe that every word was intended to anger him. If that was the goal, it worked. With gritted teeth, and all the restraint he could muster John spoke. "I didn't want it to come to this but if you want to stay this arrogant and prideful, then I have no choice but to kick you off of that pedestal. So yes, I would be capable."
During this whole exchange, not only Sherryl, but several of the girls who had been around, watching Marion's training before the interruption were speechless. However, that silence only lasted so long as one of the girls from further away turned to speak to another. "Wait, we're actually going to see Marion fight! We've gotta get everyone to watch this!" Then, the group of girls dashed off in a hurry, their aim to seemingly gather a crowd to watch the spectacle soon to take place.
Sherryl released a sigh, as she slowly traipsed over to the stone steps a couple feet away. She sat down, placing her chin on her fist as she leaned forward. Her face was dressed in disappointment, an emotion she couldn't say she felt that often. She truly felt this was pointless, and better yet, wrong to do but she could tell that sort of perspective was pointless here. All she could do was watch, to see the situation through at the very least.
"So, do you want to wait to fight until your fan club is here or would you rather me beat you before so you can save face?" John said with a cocky grin.
The pair's faces were mere inches away from each other, as both of their eyes were locked.
"Shut up. I'd just like to get some things clarified. Are you fine fighting to the death? Or are you a coward who would battle until your stamina runs out then quit?"
"Neither is my forte. I prefer to just slap you around a bit until you come to your senses." John paused, reaching down toward his sheathe to grab it. He then unfastened it to his waist, before turning behind him. "Sherryl, could you take care of this?" Despite asking the question, he didn't wait for an answer as he tossed it to her. She caught it, albeit with a confused expression.
"Why did you throw away your weapon?" Marion asked.
"I made a vow. A vow that I wouldn't use that blade until the man who killed my employer is in front of me."
"Well that's foolish to fight with no weapon."
"Oh, I think you're misunderstanding. I only need my fists to beat you."
For the first time in their conversation, Marion cracked a smile. It was one born from the audacity brimming off John. He was so brazen and confident and Marion couldn't wait to watch it all shatter.
"If you say so. Should we get started?"
***
"Ha, you really don't play around, I almost died."
"I could say the same to you nephew, especially with that golden form of yours. What was that anyway?"
As the pair of Ashur and Charon spoke, they were traversing through the forest. Further ahead in their sights was the village.
After their sparring match, Ashur was blindfolded again briefly, before getting brought back to the halfway point between the village and cave. On both of their bodies, several cuts and nicks lay. They weren't deep however, so besides a little bit of dried blood around it, they were already closed wounds.
Ashur smirked at his Uncle's question. "I call that golden form Radiance. To keep it brief the power I wield becomes greater and my control over light increases as well."
Charon cracked his neck. "I couldn't even get a solid hit in when you activated it. You should be able to trip up your brother with that form as well."
"Sure but only for a little while, it's very draining to use for long." Ashur's hand was resting on his sheathe, in it was the darkened blade.
He could say after their intense spar that he was starting to get the hang of the weapon. Saying he'd mastered it would be a lie but to say he wasn't more confident in his soon-to-be faceoff with Boreas would be an even worse lie.
A part of him still felt slight worry at the thought of having to fight his brother, but it wasn't due to the man's power. A realization had come over him, that he would be most likely fighting to the death.
It was a simple notion, however, that brought a newfound concept to him. Being the last of his kin, at least excluding Charon and Cassian. While they also shared his blood he wasn't that close with them, so they felt more like distant relatives rather than family. Ashur wondered how he would feel after the blade pierced through his brother's chest. Monster or not, he was still his flesh and blood.
"Chief!" Suddenly, pulling Ashur out of his thoughts was the shout of a man, to be specific, a guard. Ashur didn't recognize him but his Uncle clearly did, given his response. "What is it, Rex?" He asked.
"In the training grounds. Marion and that newcomer John are fighting!"
Hearing those words, Ashur couldn't help but cringe slightly. He stood, in complete silence as a mixture of confusion as well as surprise washed over him. From the talk he and his comrade had earlier that morning, he'd assumed he would have tried being more amicable to a degree. However, hearing the news it seemed he was wrong in that assumption.
Charon scratched his chin, turning to glance over at Ashur, who had a blank look over his face. "So, any thoughts on that development, nephew?" As the question left his lips, his eyes were squinted. Ashur, unsure of what to say, gave a limp shoulder raise.
Charon released a sigh, as he turned to face the guard. "Well, if you wouldn't mind leading us to the grounds we can see the state of things."
"Yes, sir." Rex replied with a stern nod. Now, with him leading the way, the three started heading toward the training grounds. It didn't take long for a symphony of voices to reach their ears. The noise wasn't organized or even harmonic however, being a sea of shouting and chanting.
"Marion! Marion! Marion! Marion!" As the trio made their way closer, the voices only increased in volume. In Ashur's sights he saw dozens of villagers. Some of them were older, while others were young. Despite the mixed crowd they all seemed to share one thing in common, fascination. Their eyes were wide, glued on the center of the training grounds.
Ashur tried his best to slide past the crowd, his aim being to get a better view of things but the countless villagers almost served as a barrier. It was like he was trying to push past a wall.
"The Chief is here!" With Rex's shout, which overpowered the sea of noise the villagers produced, silence followed. Many turned behind them, and upon seeing the Chief, along with a disheveled Ashur, stepped aside. A path was finally cleared and now, uncle and nephew side-by-side were able to pass through the crowd. When finally reaching the ground floor, everything was clear.
A few feet away, huffing heavily was John, who had his hands resting on his knees as he was bent over slightly. The action seemed to be the only thing keeping him standing. From head to toe there was dirt as well as bruises and slight cuts covering his body. Despite him being extremely battered, to the point where blood was trickling down the side of his face, his eyes still held a fire in them.
Across from John was Marion with a scorn in his eye as he glared his opponent down. All around him were bits of scattered earth, being broken up into rocks and miniature boulders. On his shoulder, a spirit no bigger than a hand was seated. The spirit had bright yellow skin, its hair was a light brown and twin branches protruded from its head. "Ah, come on Marion. Take it easy on the kid." It said in an almost whimsical tone.
"Quiet, Gi. He started this and I'm going to finish it." Marion replied curtly. He truly meant what he said. Even though the man hadn't landed a single hit on him, he refused to ease up for a second. He could tell. From his eyes, the man hadn't been defeated yet. He wasn't arrogant enough to lower his guard and discount his abilities.
"That is true. Well, it's your prerogative so carry on." After his lax response, Gi raised his hand up, releasing a yawn.
"Are you two done yet?" John coughed up. "As you can see. I'm not finished!" With a huff, John fully stood up, refusing to lean on his knees for support any longer. He raised his fists up in a fighting position, a smirk on his face.
Without a word, he rushed forward. John felt the spike of adrenaline in his body as he grew closer and closer to his adversary. This feeling… he liked it. The danger, the pain, all of it. He had to win this, and he would. Being the victor would mean that he had once again, surpassed his limits and become stronger as well as stood for what he believed in.
Marion, in contrast to his blonde-haired opponent, didn't feel an ounce of excitement or even danger. With a hard stomp of his foot, the earth started to tremble. Right as John swung his fist, aiming for the man's jaw, a pillar of stone erected in front of it.
"Argh." He winced in pain at the collision, however, he couldn't dwell on it too long as stone shot out from the pillar. John ducked, barely avoiding the rock pellets. As he rolled, and prepared for a counterattack, a foot swinging with deadly intent smashed into his face. With a grunt, John went sliding across the dirt field.
Through squinted eyes veiled in pain he looked at Marion. The man's foot was coated in a layer of earth. That's why the hit hurt so badly. Blood spurted out of John's nose and instinctively, he reached up to stop it.
"John. Can you hear me?" A familiar voice from behind caught his attention. He glanced behind him slightly, seeing Ashur standing with a worried expression. To his left was Sherryl and his right was Charon.
"Yeah, I can partner." John responded. Even though he was engaging in the conversation, mentally he was elsewhere. All he could think of was what to do. Their entire fight so far had been in Marion's favor without a glimmer of hope for himself.
Every time he'd get close, that impervious defense, courtesy of the man's earth spirit, would appear. Even when he backed off, to gain distance, with a firm stomp from Marion, the ground would come alive. Oftentimes the ranged method of attack were pebbles, deadly enough to puncture skin if he wasn't careful, as well as spears which would cause severe injury. John had nowhere to run, or a method of gaining an advantage.
"I won't question your decision to fight him. I'm sure you had a good reason, just, figure something out okay? You can't keep taking punishment like this. You're lucky he isn't fighting you with the intent to kill."
John bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. As Ashur's words poured into his ears he couldn't muster up a word to say in disagreement. It was true, and that frustrated him most of all. The man wasn't after his life, clearly, or many times prior he could have taken it. It seemed, to John at least, that Marion was attempting to break his spirit. If that wasn't his aim then he would have long finished the fight.
John released a sigh, raising his face toward the sky. The clouds were thick, yet somehow the sun still shone through it as bright as ever. As he gazed upward, Marion slowly started walking forward. "So, do you concede? It's clear that you aren't capable of beating me. You should've used that weapon of yours."
Gi chuckled, a mischievous look on his face. "Oh, you don't get it Marion. He's about to cry. It's obvious, looking up to the sky to hide his embarrassment. It's okay to be weak."
"Hey, what's your name, spirit?" John asked, his face still directed at the sky.
"It's Gi."
"Yeah, imma need you to shut up."
"What?" Gi responded, his voice raising an octave out of pure surprise.
"Mhm. I'm sick of this. Listen here and listen well. Weakness is a state of mind. No one is meant to be weak, and neither am I."
"You say that, but you're the one at your wits end, against an opponent who hasn't broken a sweat yet." Marion said, confusion rising in his voice. He wasn't trying to be rude or even condescending at this point, he genuinely couldn't understand. How and why would John persist to fight, even when he was clearly outclassed in every category.
"That's fair. I do admit, as of now my strength alone doesn't cut it… But that's why I have you… ANNEROSE!" John suddenly shouted the spirit's name. His voice was so loud that miles away a deer might've perked up their ears. "I'm sorry! I know that you feel you can't rely on me. And maybe this is selfish of me, but even without being able to prove that I can be relied on, I need you anyway! At least until I can stand on my own as the strongest, don't leave me. You're already plenty strong on your own, you shouldn't let anyone tell you differently…" John trailed off. His fists were clenched together so tightly they started to bleed.
In the field, which previously held nothing but shouting and noise from the spectators, there was silence. Everyone watched, some in confusion at who he was talking to, while others were simply curious where his speech would lead. The entire time, Marion was slowly, and patiently, making his way over to him.
"If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here. We became one remember! That should count for something and know this… Mary didn't want you to be alone! That's why she gave you to me, so please! There's nothing worse than solitude… I would know… So trust me and come!"
Marion, who finally reached John, now stood a mere 2 feet away from him. He spoke. "This is ridiculous. If you continue to talk instead of fight then I'll finish this." At that moment, Gi, who'd been sitting on his shoulder seemed to disappear and a brown glow emanated around Marion. He raised his hands which still held the wooden sword in it.
Behind him, the earth started to tremble. First it was a few pebbles, but then, a few rocks were drawn in by the blade. They seemed to stick to it like glue as once it smacked into the blade, it locked in place. Now, the wooden blade was no more, having a thick covering of earth over it. From his stance, all in attendance could tell, this was intended to be a finishing blow. He would strike down with full force onto John's head.
"I'll only say this once." John continued shouting, now his face was lowered however, eyes locked with Marrion's. "ANNEROSE, I NEED YOU!"
"Pathetic." Marion scoffed. His earth-coated blade cleaved through the air with deadly efficiency. The strike would land on his skull with no regard for his safety. This wasn't a sparring match, nor was it to test each other's skills. It was one where their ways of life, and beliefs would clash, so Marion gave nothing less than his very best.
It happened in a split second. Annerose suddenly appeared, flying in front of the blade with eyes full of tears. She glowed, and right as the weapon would have connected into her and soon John, a hand caught it. The hand was clothed in a steel gauntlet, one that Marion soon realized belonged to John. In a hurry, he leapt backward, leaving the sword in the man's hand. John, with a smile on his face, rose to his feet. He was covered head-to-toe in something reminiscent of knights armor.
"Thanks, Annerose. It's time to turn this around, yeah?"