Duality - 47 Asif

John pulled his weapon free. The man fell and agonized on the ground. He’d already die on his own with such a wound, but John didn’t want to take any chances. A slash through the neck ensured his death.

A couple of moments later, the woman shoved a sword through the last enemy’s chest.

John looked around, checking for more enemies but, fortunately, these seemed to be the last of them. He breathed a sigh of relief, the same for the other two. They were all gasping for breath, the spellcaster most of all, which was odd considering how little fighting he did.

Still, he was the first to speak. “Thanks for the assistance,” he spoke with a weak smile. “You really saved us, right Bella?” he asked the woman.

She nodded in response, though she remained with a distant look on her face.

Now that the fighting was done, John could take a better look at the two. They weren’t a man and a woman, not yet at least. Both were young, around John’s own age, which to him meant they were children.

She had chestnut brown hair pulled back in a ponytail while he had a mess of dirty blonde curls. Their eyes were a dark brown that looked somewhat similar to one another.

Both had empty quivers strapped to their backs, but no bows in sight; probably dropped during the chase.

Their clothes, a mix of brown and dark green, were dirty and scraped in some places. From that, John would think them to be a pair of hungry children trying to score their next meal, but that didn’t quite fit. For starters, the girl carried a rippled steel sword on her hip, while the boy was already a mage at his age.

Not only that, but their clothes also fit perfectly as if tailored for them and, although they were damaged, there was none of the wear and tear from years of use. All buttons were in place, the seams weren’t coming undone, and the fabric showed no signs of fraying. All the damage had been recent.

If they weren’t poor commoners poaching for food, then they were on the other end of the spectrum: nobles.

“Are you from around these parts?” Nevil asked.

John shook his head. “I’m coming from down south,” he answered, not specifying from where exactly.

“Oh, we’re from up north. Me and Bella we— hey, wait.” While he’d been talking, Bella walked towards the horses. “Where are you going?”

“Chase,” she answered curtly and started riding back to where they came.

At her response, Nevil took on a somber expression. He turned to John. “Look, you seem to be heading to Rochdale. We’re heading there too, so maybe we could all go together. It would be safer, and we’ll be able to properly thank you when we get there.”

John considered refusing. Even if they were friendly, he’d prefer not to mix with more nobles than necessary. But if they were also from Rochdale, then maybe they’d be able to help him. He needed to hand the letter to the Earl, and they could help make it happen. If not them, then maybe their parents. So John agreed. He climbed back on his horse.

Nevil’s horse lay on the ground, a spear shaft sticking out from its side, so he had to pick one of the men’s horses.

“Who were those men by the way?” John asked.

“Highwaymen, I believe. My father says that there’s been a lot of those around due to the rebellion against Earl Skanler. We were out hunting when we stumbled on them. At least now they won’t be harming people ever again.”

“These ones at least,” John added.

They both rode the rest of the way in silence. Five minutes later, they finally found Bella kneeling beside the body of a reddish-brown dog. A sword stood buried halfway into its side.

Laying dead around her were three other men. One bled out from on wound on his back while the other two had arrow shaft sticking out from their chests.

Nevil dismounted and came to her side. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She looked at him and then back to the sword. “I can’t,” she said, her voice trembling.

Nevil took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.” He took hold of the sword’s grip and pulled it free in a single yank.

Bella choked a sob as the sword came free leaving behind an open wound. Blood oozed rather than flowed. The poor animal was already dead. She took it in her arms and returned to her horse, managing to mount it without using her hands.

The ride north was, thankfully, uneventful. At least when it came to any more fighting. Every once in a while, Bella would start sobbing while holding her dead dog. Meanwhile, Nevil’s body began to tremble nonstop despite the heat.

Those were the after-effects of an adrenaline rush. If they weren’t on horseback, neither of the two would be able to stand up. John had seen that happen more times than he could remember. That, coupled with their ages and the fact that they never went through such an ordeal before, meant that the two would need a lot of time to process everything.

At some point, Nevil let go of the reins and placed both hands under his arms to stop them from shaking. John looked at his own hands; they were perfectly still.

He couldn’t help thinking back to the first time he claimed a life. He’d been on the roof of a bombed-out bakery while offering cover to his fellow soldiers on patrol. Lying prone, he had a water bottle to his left and a five meters fall to his right from where a tank shell hit.

The sun hitting his back was almost unbearable. He couldn’t wait to be done with that assignment so that he could drink a cold one later. Suddenly, he noticed movement in distance. John looked through his scope and found a man skulking around on a building’s terrace. His name was Asif — John looked into it after it happened.

He had a black tank top and a white turban around his head. His beard was unkempt and he had a skinny build. He seemed to be holding something, but John couldn’t make it out due to a short wall at the roof where the man was.

Asif peeked down at the street below where a squad walked around on patrol. He pulled back, looked to the sky, and said something that John couldn’t hear with all the distance between them; maybe a prayer.

John kept his sight on Asif. The man on his scope returned to the ledge and finally revealed the AK-47 he had been holding. John didn’t stop to think, as hesitation could mean a countryman dying.

His scope was sighted to a 100 meters while his target stood at around double of that. John aimed his reticle at the top of Asif’s turban to make up for the bullet drop and pulled the trigger.

John felt the kick of the gun against his shoulder and heard a low ringing on his right ear. Asif’s head jerked back, a pink mist erupting from the other side of his head.

John spent a week unable to sleep well after that but, at that exact instant, he only felt relieved that the bullet had hit. “Always aim for the center of mass,” his drill sergeant would say. “A bullet to the head may be almost certain death, but the torso is a much bigger target. Be it the lungs or the small intestine, you will hit something important.”

Some kills left more of a mark than others. The image of Asif’s head jerking back remained with John for the rest of his life. Meanwhile, he couldn’t recall the faces of the men he killed less than half-an-hour ago.

John’s seemingly normal behavior didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you okay?” Nevil asked.

John couldn’t help finding it funny for some reason. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Nevil paused for a moment. “That man… he died… I hit him with a spell and he died.”

“Yeah, that tends to happen when you set people on fire.” John regretted his words as soon as they came out. ‘He’s just a child, you idiot.’

As expected, Nevil was hit hard by his words and didn’t respond.

“Look,” John tried to comfort him. “What both of you went through is one of the hardest things that can happen. Taking another person’s life will always leave a mark, no matter the circumstances. If it doesn’t, then something is wrong with you.”

The boy looked back at him. “You don’t look fazed.”

It was John’s turn to pause. “No, I don’t.”

No one else spoke after that. They traveled like this for more than an hour before the trees finally began to clear up. After going through one last hill, John finally got a look at his destination. Rising at the horizon was a brown wall that rose to circle the whole city.

As they approached it, John was able to observe it better. Large blocks of a brown stone were lined on top of one another to form the gigantic wall. It looked even taller than the bell tower back at Greenflower. Guards in dark gray armor either patrolled the battlements or stood by the sides of the gate. In both cases, they seemed to be there solely to maintain order.

Bellow the raised portcullises, people came in and out of the city. The gates were half as tall as the wall itself and large enough for two wagons to pass side-by-side.

After passing under the outer portcullis, John took note of the various murder-holes at the ceiling. Sunlight peeked through some of them, but most seemed to be obstructed. They likely hadn’t been used in a while.

The trio passed under the inner portcullis and entered the city. The streets were paved with the same brown stone of the walls. Stone buildings rose from either side of the streets in an orderly fashion as if planned constructions.

They were about to keep going when one of the guards screamed out, “Halt!”

The man had a bushy black beard and a small scar over the bridge of his nose. His armor was the same dark gray like the others, but whereas those consisted of vambraces, a brigandine, and a kettle helmet, his uniform also contained a mail coif, a mail collar, and a cape. He seemed to be the captain.

After what they went through, Nevil and Bella didn’t try to argue. And if they were going to the castle, there was a good chance that the Earl would be there, so John decided to tag along.

“And who are you boy?” The man eyed John with clear suspicion.

“You can call me John,” he spoke with a smile. “I met with the two nobles and helped them fight off bandits.”

The guard continued eyeing John. “And I’m sure that you did it solely out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Obviously not. They were bandits, so my only option was to step in.”

“Sure. Just wait here then. I’m sure that the lords would like to reward you.” He signaled Bella and Nevil to follow him.

“Actually,” John spoke as the captain prepared to leave him behind. “I came to Rochdale to deliver a message to the Earl’s ears.”

“And what is this message?”

“As I said, it’s for the Earl’s ears only.”

The guard captain scowled. He looked ready to slap John.

“Just let him come along,” Bella spoke for the first time since leaving the woods. “Whatever his reasons, he did save us.”

“Besides,” John chipped in, “I don’t want to imagine what the Earl will do if he finds out that such an important message was delayed because of you.” He didn’t feel comfortable provoking the man from such a weak position, but he needed to reach the Earl. And besides, if things went south, then an angry guard captain would be the least of his problems.

The guard captain scowled even harder, spit on the ground, but ultimately didn’t dare to try his luck. He picked four other guards to come along and escort the trio.