[Sekta talking]

  Long ago, far away…–

  [Ekta Interrupts]

  –Don’t you exaggerate a bit? It was barely five years ago and maybe a week or three of travel from here.

  [Sekta once again]

  …Okay, so… Relatively far away, and long ago in comparison to our short, feeble lives, on a border of the Great Forest where the town of Bushsawodzitz lies among the scattered trees and bushes – that’s where we ended up after finally escaping our gilded cage and delusional oppressors.

  Not finding any… reasonable accommodation… in the town at first, we occupied a small hut on the town’s end, opposite to the forest – abandoned by its previous owner, who after getting married settled inside the town walls and left the hut alone and without care. Previously, he herded some sheep and goats there, along with some of those long-neck sheep, with whose paintings he adorned the walls of the building.

  First days were a disaster, fixing damages in the roof and walls required us to promise a favour to a local carpenter – a kind, young man who despite our horrible appearance, believed in our claims to know how to use a sword and cast spells, even though the second was impossible to check before I got my hands on some kind of Focus. He helped with that too, as a separate favour.

  Before though, as not to embarrass ourselves before the stranger, we had to clean up the inisdes – horribly stinky and dirty. I won’t even mention what we found inside: disgusting…

  [Ekta takes over]

  –While she was helping the carpenter with our minor needs. I was running around the countryside, already assuming the role of a mercenary for hire.

  Ultimately, I was the one who needed money the most, as swords don’t grow on trees, and I needed to get one before we could get better jobs at some bigger city, or even there, in Bushsawodzitz. Not every request the knightless town had was easy enough to complete on my own, especially without a sharp piece of metal to work with.

  The first job I took, if I remember right, was to deliver news of some farmer’s demise – and consequential plans of burial – to the town nearby, over the hills.

  Full day journey, fortunately without any surprising events in the middle, meant I was alone in a strange town at night. I return in thoughts many times to that time, as what I did… I am not completely proud of myself – neither in morality nor in intelligence.

  Instead of asking someone to stay the night – those who received the news, for example – I snuck up to the barn at night, broke the lock, hitting it mightily with stone and fell asleep in the loft there, above the animals. I might not have stolen anything, but the owners surely panicked when they saw the broken lock in the morning…

  [Sekta]

  –This time, it’s you who is overreacting. It was fucking five years ago already! And it was one, shabby lock at that! Do you really think they would care so much? They probably had like, seven different problems, each ten times worse than a shitty lock being broken.

  Ehhh… Anyway. She returned in bad spirits, but with some coins to her – which the carpenter refused, saying that he believes in me and wants my help after I have a Focus to safely perform magic. And that was okay with me – with Ekta, not so much. I think she would much rather had him take the coin, but as it was a faster way towards getting her a sword, she didn’t oppose as much as she could.

  After the hut was ready, or at least in an acceptable state, it was Ekta’s turn to stay there and work on upgrading our accommodation. I, on the other hand, went to the carpenter’s house inside the town, where he asked all sorts of things about how to make a Focus. Then I chose the wood and helped his wife with washing the clothes as the man worked.

  I returned there the next day, and my staff – 140 centimetres in length and about 3,5 centimetres of diameter in the handle area, with iron tip on the bottom and few basic strenghtening runes engraved, waiting to be enchanted – waited for me. It reached to my shoulders and layed perfect in my hand – I have got a better one now, but for the moment, it was an amazing staff.

  [Ekta]

  Staff or not, I was still missing a blade to put between my fingers – as such, while Sekta was at the Carpenter’s, I went to look for more jobs. After finishing taking care of the hut, of course – but there wan’t too much work to be done there left.

  I walked from house to house, asking the townspeople if they had some work for a poor, yet strong girl like me. I couldn’t turn to the same place from which I was hired to deliver a message from, as all the jobs left there were too risky to take without a proper weapon, at least.

  The search wasn’t going great, as I was chased from before the doors more often than not, before they even heard what I was going to say. Bushsawodzitzites weren’t exactly cheerful nor inviting people – maybe apart from the carpenter’s family and a few others. But those were connected in one, specific way – they all were the first generation living among those walls. There was something wrong about that town, depressing and dark, as if an evil spirit had put a curse upon those houses…

  [Sekta]

  –Bullshit, you are searching for a hole in a whole. Those men and women were just tired townsmen, living on the edge of dangerous woods in uneasy times. Those who were nice to us were the ones weird – I, in their place, would put much more distance between myself and two wandering girls, uncathed around the Great Forest, famous for mindfuckery and monsters who lie as often as they howl.

  But we wander off-topic.

  Ekta searched for more jobs unnecessarily. I was about to soon be free of obligations and have a staff, and in such a state, money comes quite quickly – regardless if people believe in your magic or not. Sometimes, it’s even better when they laugh.

  Carpenter, after giving me my new staff, finally revealed what he needed my help for. As it turns out, he had a grudge with a local blacksmith – a strong, big man, slightly older than his wooden counterpart – with whom he never managed to win a fistfight. His true desire was to win, even if he needed to ask a Wizardess for help.

  Ekta often says that such things are unhonourable, impure and unfit of a knight – but I wholeheartedly agreed with the Carpenter; if the blacksmith wanted to win, he should have stopped his rival from getting help from the outside. No one fights alone after all; even a lone fighter has an abundance of history and personas that made him or her who they are and shaped them into fighters they are proud to be. And even if you still think so – fuck you!

  [Ekta, after apologitecally looking at the crowd]

  –That event, even I have seen. Despite being on the town’s borders, looking for some job, when the news of the challenge spread – like wildfire.

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  The carpenter, William – whose name Sekta suspiciously omitted, as if she forgot it, like always – and the blacksmith, Henry, were about to go at each other for the nth time. From what I heard from the locals while walking by them towards the squire, those two had been at each other’s throats for over a decade already. First, they fought about who was the strongest kid, who was the smartest, etc. Childish dramas and nothing more to add, like all kinds in Bushsawodzitz and beyond, but maybe a bit more heated than normal. It all went to shit when William the Carpenter proposed to Marika, hearing that, Henry challenged him to a duel.

  He too was in love with her and would not accept his greatest rival taking her from him. But despite decimating his opponent in the brawl, Marike still chose William over him – he grew resentful and aggressive.

  Every now and then, he challenges William to a fight. Not for Marika’s love, but to spite on it. He let her go and created a family of his own, but the hate and rivalry that connected William and Henry never diminished. And now, for the first time ever, William was the one to challenge his opponent into a fight.

  I would never miss an opportunity to watch a proper fight – as for one with so much romance behind it… I would rather die.

  [Sekta]

  – Ehh you are dramatising once again…

  [Ekta]

  –Shut up! I am the one to tell about the duel! You would just fuck it up!

  Ekhh…

  When was I?

  Oh… Yes.

  So, among the crowd, I arrived at the squire – relatively large, paved and surrounded by nice houses – where the duel was about to happen. Unfortunately, while I am a nice bit taller than my dwarvish sister, I am not so tall when compared to adult men, most of the time. So, I chose a nice, tall tree and climbed to the top — from where the view of the whole squire was top notch.

  In the centre, next to a bulletin board featuring recent news and orders from the town hall, stood Sekta, William and people who I assumed were his family. Directly opposite to them was a large man around the carpenter’s age and similar entourage.

  The enemies wore their casual clothes – apart from the lack of shirts, to the delight of women of all ages, me and Sekta included. Assuming she actually is into men. Their ripped torsos were covered in sweat from the day’s work and the sun’s hot gaze, making the sight truly mesmerising.

  “Today, I have come to finally beat your ass and prove to be worthy of Marika’s love!” William shouted, stepping forward towards his opponent. As he did so, he raised his arm high, bending it at the elbow and flexing his well-built muscles.

  The blacksmith, in all his masculinity, didn’t move a centimetre. Then, asked in a calm tone, “Yeah? How, have you found some witch to dress you up in fancy clothes and arm you with a magic stick? Otherwise, scram off and don’t come here until I call for you the next time.”

  I have to admit, I laughed just at that moment, nearly falling off the tree I was on. The squire was silent, though, so everyone looked at me just then. That was extremely awkward.

  That bitch of a man though, instead of stying silent and accepting being ridiculed by a beautiful, young maiden, shouted at me while flailing his arms. “Who is this wench? Why is she laughing?” I did not cheer for his win from that moment on, despite being an equal-opportunity ambassador in terms of duels all of my life.

  William though, that handsome carpenter, defended my womanly honour – “She just foresees your future, Henry. As, I, in fact, have found a Wizardess who agreed to help me – something you would not manage even if you offered her all the gold in the world. Cursed that face of yours is.” He said. If not for his peasant ancestry, I would have long came back to that god-forsaken town and taken him as a squire – even if he may be too old for that.

  Henry, that retard, replied to him mockingly: “She? A witch? Who do you want to fool, you demented dumbass? That's just a girl with some stick – clearly made by you.” After me, he attacked Sekta, though I’d say I was wronged more. So, chances of his redemption in my mind completely disappeared.

  “Let’s test that theory of yours, shall we?” William challenged, and after nodding at my sister, stepped even further into the empty area among the crowd – silent in anticipation, but ready to roar and chant.

  “Heh… If you are in such a hurry to lie in bed for another month… We shall.” As Henry said so, he stepped forward for the first time – aggressively.

  His steps were precise and powerful, boosing him towards Willliam in astonishing speed. All the while, he flexed to the side, preparing a mighty right hook that would punch through a wooden wall – at least that's what I theorised from the amount of muscles clasped around his bones…

  William yelped in surprise – but from my vantage point, I could clearly see the glint in his eyes, an unnatural reflection of the midday sun – he stepped towards his north-east, spinning around clockwise from a position where his right foot was in front. Narrowly dodging the hook, he used the momentum of the spin to strike his opponent's bare, muscular torso with his elbow.

  Henry, thrown out of balance and in pain from the unexpected riposte, stood his ground. He did not falter, not even showing surprise on his face. He stopped his backwards movement with a decisive kick to the ground and spun around. Now, they were in about the same positions as before, but each of them in the opposite place.

  The crowd roared in excitement; it was clear – none of their previous fights had gone like this. Many of the onlookers stole amazed, or even fearful looks at Sekta, who stood on the edge of the fighting ring with her new staff in hand, calmly as if nothing had happened. I knew, though, that under that impenetrable mask of tranquility, she was focused as never; enhancement magic was not her strongest suite.

  Henry roared something incomprehensible at his opponent – clearly something personal, as the carpenter’s face went red, and his movements became faster, less calculated. He started to walk towards the blacksmith.

  Sekta’s staff struck the ground, steel clashed with stone pavement in a clear ring that overshadowed all other noises. William stopped in his tracks, no longer moving towards his opponent – and shook his head.

  As the woodworker’s face returned to normal colour and his toned, muscular arms stopped tensing in and out without reason – Henry the blacksmith chose to attack, but this time, slowly.

  With his arms raised, showing off his back muscles and massive biceps, he slowly moved towards William – who copied his opponent and raised his arms in a high boxing guard.

  Now, to the rhythm of skands and roars from the audience, the fight grew faster.

  Quick jabs, followed by strikes from underneath and hooks – countered by blocks and dodges – reigned on both sides, as the fighters threw at their opponent waves after waves of attack, slowly tiring each other out. It was clear that Henry was superior in both technique and strength, but William – or rather the unnatural light that shined in his eyes – foresaw each strike and prepared a creative counter with what looked like a monstrous reflex.

  Henry, with bruises on his chest and arms, grew agitated, frustrated to lose agains whom he won so many times already. His opponent was harmed too, but to everyone around, it was clear that the carpenter had the advantage.

  Without hesitation, he bent down and pressed his legs to the ground, pushing his shoulders into William’s abdomen and clutching him with his arms at the same time. The carpenter started to fall, failing to stop Henry’s mighty push – then, the unfamiliar, yet familiar to me, light shone around his legs, arms and torso. Briefly, but for long enough that people had to notice.

  William bent forward and hugged Henry’s waist, as the blacksmith was glued to his own abdomen – then, in an act of newfound inhumane strength, he lifted that mountain of flesh up, and thrown him to the side, onto the cobblestone street.

  He did not relent, though, and as soon as he was free of the bracksmith's hug, he rushed to the fallen man’s side – firstly, kicked him a few times, then sat atop him and pummeled down with his fists.

  All bloody, some of which was his own and some his opponent’s, William stood up a minute or two later, looking down in satisfaction as his long-time rival was lying down on the paved floor, with multiple bruises, cuts and maybe a broken bone or two – unable to fight any longer.

  The square grew silent as all eyes were directed at the victorious carpenter. Who, with his hard work and spilled blood, defeated his greatest enemy for the first time ever.

  But you might say, “It doesn't count, he had the help of a witch!”. Ultimately, I have to agree with my sister, in fight, nothing matters apart from the outcome – but even if not, the man deserved it, without his dedication and will, even the greatest spell would not turn him into a warrior.

  Hi hello and goodthing to you all.

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