Round Two: (1) Blank v (9) Baneblades

[INDK]

(bunny of seeing the future approved by Rheawien)

Damon’s thoughts had only been on reuniting with Ashiakin when the lady had fallen off of the roof and ended up with her hands clutching his calf. From that point on, the boy had centered upon a singular focus, not getting the half elf from off his limb, but somehow willing his body up onto the roof, or at least saving himself from what would be a sharp fall down to the ground. The harness was supposed to protect him, but out of the corner of his eye, Damon could now see what the other Baneblade had done to Ashiakin’s lifeline. Eyes wide, Damon feared for the life of his partner as he squirmed to get free from his opponent, only suddenly feeling the sharp pain of the dagger as it sliced into his leg.

“Aaaaaaaaashi…” the boy screamed, unable to make out the full name of his partner as his hands gave way. The boy’s grip had already been growing more tenuous. Melted water from Ashiakin’s ice spell had made the ledge increasingly difficult to hold. Now, the dagger searing into his flesh was the final blow. Damon screamed again as he began to fall, fearful both for himself and his partner.

Still, though terrified, the eyes of Damon were not filled with hate. They were brimming with tears of disappointment, the pure black beginning to glimmer with the formation of his tears. The lady who had wounded him was now going to cut at his lifeline in a minute, the boy knew it for he saw it in a vision. The injuries he’d sustain from falling to the ground would be more than enough to end this battle, and that was something the boy knew his team could ill afford. If Ashiakin hadn’t survived, it would be up to Damon to make sure that he didn’t disappoint. Just like Ashiakin had saved him the last round, now it was up to Damon.

The boy steeled his resolve. Vehemently, Damon grabbed onto the first ledge he could get a hold of. It was three stories from the top of the pagoda, down far enough that he could no longer reach the roof easily but still more than fifteen feet up from the ground. Grateful for the fact that the stone ledge held him as he climbed up into the window, the boy fought back tears of pain and disappointment as he pulled himself up into the room by his stomach. He had lost sight of Ashiakin, and because of the guilt he felt at arriving late, Damon now had a predilection to think towards the worst. He didn't know whether or not Ashiakin had recovered, or even if the tether had been cut all the way through, but Damon's fears made him believe it. He would be on his own now. Damon knew he needed to maintain his determination. Not just Ashiakin, but all of Lornius was depending on it.

Once inside, Damon knew he couldn’t afford much more pause than a few seconds to catch his breath. His lungs now felt like they would explode from lack of oxygen and his right shin throbbed with pain, but the boy knew he could pause only just long enough to think up a new plan. Somehow though, before he continued, Damon knew that he would have to calm his mind. Otherwise, the boy knew he would be doomed to rash action with the thoughts of Ashiakin’s fall running vividly in his head.

“What would Ashiakin do at a time like this?” the boy thought, trying to imagine how his mentor would have overcome these problems if faced in a similar situation. Damon knew he wasn’t nearly as smart or experienced, but he hoped that the training he’d received before the first round would have taught him well. Even if he wasn’t a perfect student, the boy knew he had been blessed with an infallible mentor.

Suddenly, an idea struck the boy. A mischievous smile flashed across his face and for a moment, Damon completely forgot about the throbbing pain in his leg. He quickly slipped out of his harness and attached it to a torch fixed onto one of the stone walls. The boy figured that way that the Baneblades would still figure that he had remained in the room. The boy was going to run up back to the top as they came down to get him, and then he was going to sever both their cords.

The only question was, given how hurt and winded he had become, would Damon have been able to run back up the stairs in quick enough time. His leg, while not severely wounded, had been cut sharply and the boy had yet to have done anything to stop the bleeding. However, time was of the essence and he began to run, his heart keeping pace for his steps as it beat desperately like a drummer seeking to will an army to victory by the sound of the beats alone.

By the time the boy had managed up one set of stairs up to the next story, he was already too tired to press on. Caked in sweat, Damon slowed down but continued onwards, hoping somewhere desire would find a way to overcome his fatigue. However, now the boy’s shoulders had drooped and his straight hair clung to his sweat soaked face and there was an overriding thought inside the boy’s brain that the stone walls of the pagoda made its inside very cool. Still, he had to press on. The boy had no other choice.

However, the monk that had fit him with the harness had begun to come down the stairs. Damon looked at him with desperate eyes. “Please… you can heal me… do it now,” the boy begged, grabbing the monk by his robe in his desperation.

“I may not interfere,” the monk replied, evenly but not without sympathy. “Once the battle has started, it must reach its natural conclusion.”

“But- but Ashiakin needs to win!” Damon replied incredulously, as if the monk should have known that was obvious.

The monk smiled kindly but firmly. “Then you’ll have to make sure of that with your sword,” came the reply, as the monk emphasized the last word.

Damon was exasperated and let out a heavy sigh. “But…but don’t you want Ashiakin to win?” he asked, as if the answer should have been obvious. “He’ll become duke of Lornius, and everyone would be better off.”

Shaking his head, the monk still refused. While he wasn't without pity, the monk knew both that he was honor bound not to interfere, and perhaps more importantly, that Lornius would not be better off with Ashiakin as its duke.

With more tears of frustration brimming in his eyes, Damon knew it would be pointless to argue any longer. He let go of the monk and began to move up the spiral stairs again. A moment’s breath had been all that he needed.