Ashe and the Glass Sword

by KuroKoneko Kamen

  Knuckles frowned, and began to grind his back molars out of irritation. Just because he’d started treating Ashe with respect Picasso had started to act like a real asshole towards him. “Fuck you, Picasso.” He flipped his brother off.

  Ashe and Knuckles made their way out into the arena, and faced off with a few yards between them. “Contestants…fight!” Viper called out.

  Ashe unbuckled the sword belt that had a sheathe attached to it along with the Glass sword, held it up in Knuckles’s direction, and dropped it to the arena floor. “Let’s settle this with our fists. What do you say, Brother?” He offered Knuckles a cheeky grin.

  A flicker of surprise crossed the mobster’s face before he returned the smile. “Hell yeah. Let’s do this.” Knuckles cracked his knuckles, cracked his neck from side to side, and raised his fists before him in a boxing stance. Ashe moved into a similar stance with his fists raised before him.

  “What’s this?” Viper questioned aloud as he gave the fighters a disbelieving look. “It appears as though the two brothers intend to fight using nothing but their fists! Ashe probably had the upper hand as a swordsman, but now the playing field has been leveled! Will Ashe’s merciful nature come back to bite him in the ass? We’re about to find out, folks!”

  Ashe and Knuckles circled each other for a couple of minutes, each man gauging his opponent’s strength. Abruptly, they started to throw punches. Ashe knew better than to let any of Knuckles’s punches land on his face since he’d be knocked out cold instantly.

  The power of one of Knuckles’s punches was equivalent to a blow from a sledgehammer. Even just blocking Knuckles’s punches with his forearms was incredibly painful. Those punches were most likely causing tiny fractures in the bones of his forearms. Ashe knew there would be ugly bruises on his skin tomorrow as well as lingering pain as his bones healed.

  Ashe was landing his punches as his fists connected with Knuckles’s face and torso, but his blows appeared to be having little to no affect on the mobster. Instead, Ashe’s fingers ached, and the skin on his knuckles was peeling off. Punching Knuckles felt the same as punching a marble statue.

  Ashe frowned down at his bleeding knuckles, and his stepbrother let out a chuckle when he noticed. “Your punches are like mosquito bites! I barely felt them. I didn’t know you were so fucking weak, Ashe!” Ashe executed a couple of back flips in order to put some distance between him and Knuckles. “Where are you going, Ashe? Are you running away, you coward? You can’t escape me!” Knuckles charged after Ashe with thundering steps.

  This is exactly what Ashe wanted. Wait for it. Wait for it…now! Ashe stopped, turned to face Knuckles, and grabbed the other man just as he was lunging at Ashe. Using Knuckles’s forward momentum Ashe was able to throw Knuckles and slam him into the ground. Knuckles landed on his head, and was knocked out cold from the force of the blow.

  “Whoo! How did Ashe do that, folks?” Viper exclaimed with wide eyes. “He made throwing his enormous brother look easy even though Knuckles is three times his size! Was that magic or sheer strength? Knuckles has lost consciousness…and the winner is Ashe the Merciful! Well, merciful if Knuckles is still alive!” The gorgon let out a dark chuckle.

  “He’s still alive,” Ashe snapped irritably.

  “In that case…winner is Ashe the Merciful!” the emcee repeated with a sharp grin that revealed his pointed fangs.

  “Ashe! Ashe! Ashe!” the spectators cheered in a rowdy fashion as they pumped their fists through the air.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve reached the final round of this tournament!” Viper shouted. “Against all odds, two human men have fought their way to the top! So much for the might of magic? Right, folks? The final match will be Ashe Smoldris against his stepbrother Picasso Tremaine! These brothers are crazy! The winner of this match will win Princess Juleka’s hand in marriage and become King of Glass Kingdom once Juleka ascends the throne after her mother’s death.”

  Ashe watched as some attendants carried an unconscious Knuckles out of the arena. “Picasso…you may now enter the arena!” Viper called.

  Picasso strolled into the arena with his chin raised high and an air of smug confidence around him. There was a cunning look in his gray eyes, and a vicious smile spread across his face. Picasso came to a halt a few yards away from Ashe.

  Ashe walked over to fetch his sword belt and buckled it back around his waist. He unsheathed the Glass Sword and pointed it at Picasso challengingly.

  Picasso took out his newly loaded revolver and pointed it at Ashe. “Get ready to eat lead, punk.”

  “You wish, Picasso,” Ashe countered.

  “Contestants…fight!” Viper yelled out, his snakes hissing excitedly.

  The sun was starting to set, and the tall, wrought iron braziers that were positioned around the edges of the arena automatically started to light themselves due to the magical enchantments that had been placed upon them. The light being cast from the orange, yellow and red flames in the braziers’ bowls illuminated the arena floor.

  Picasso fired his revolver at Ashe, and Ashe sidestepped out of the way, managing to dodge the bullet successfully. Picasso couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this impressive feat. “Not bad. You can actually dodge a bullet. That’s almost superhuman. But, I bet that was just luck. A sword can’t win against a gun, Ashe. There’s a saying from my world: you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. Let’s see how many bullets it takes before your luck runs out and you end up Swiss cheese!”

  This time when Picasso fired his gun at Ashe, the swordsman blocked the bullets using the Glass Sword. A cracking sound filled the air, and had Ashe’s gaze dropping to look at his sword worriedly. Cracks had started to form on the sword’s surface. Horror swirled in Ashe’s golden eyes.

  Impossible…the Glass Sword is a magical sword. It’s indestructible. A stupid gun can’t…wait a second. A gun? It’s a weapon from another realm. Ashe realized. Shit! Didn’t Aurelion say something about a weapon not of this world destroying the original Glass Sword? Shit, shit, shit!

  “What’s the matter, Ashe?” Picasso called out upon noticing the worried expression on Ashe’s face. “Did I damage your sissy sword?”

  Ashe continued to stare down at his broken reflection. The four cracks on the sword had ended up creating five mirrors. Upon noticing that five Ashes were blinking back at him, he suddenly got an idea. “Speculo Geminus!” he whispered.

  The Glass Sword glowed with a silvery-blue light, and seconds later five extra Ashes had materialized, and were standing around Picasso in a circle. Picasso’s gray eyes widened in alarm, and he spun as he pointed his revolver at each of the six Ashes in turn. “What the fuck? Illusions?”

  The five mirror clones plus Ashe began to close in on Picasso simultaneously. Picasso opened fire, shooting at the clones, but they kept on approaching him. “Fuck!” Picasso couldn’t tell which was the real Ashe, and which was fake. He’d fired six bullets, and had hit his mark each time. “I’ve shot you!” Picasso shouted, an edge of desperation to his voice. “I know it!”

  Picasso opened the cylinder of his revolver, and started to reload it with bullets. However, Ashe was suddenly standing in front of him. Ashe grabbed the revolver, yanked it out of his hand, and tossed it aside. Ashe then held the Glass Sword at his stepbrother’s throat. Picasso gaped at Ashe in disbelief. “But, how are you moving? I shot you, didn’t I?” There was a wild look in the artist’s eyes.

  “You did,” Ashe confirmed in a nonchalant tone. “And that hurt like a bitch, by the way. Yield,” he said, pressing his sword against Picasso’s throat. Picasso had managed to shoot Ashe in his upper thigh. Ashe had a high pain tolerance thanks in no small part to Picasso and his torture, so he hadn’t cried out when he’d been shot. Blood was seeping out of the wound, but masked by the red color of Ashe’s silk pants.

  “Why should I yield?” Picasso said, folding his arms over his chest, and giving Ashe a defiant look. “You don’t have the balls to kill me, punk.”r />
  “Oh, yeah? Try me.” Ashe pressed the Glass Sword harder against Picasso’s neck until the sword started to draw blood. “After all the shit you’ve put me through I’d love the excuse to cut your head off. Not to mention the fact that you tried to rape the woman I love.”

  Picasso could feel hot blood trickling down his neck and paled. He put his hands up before him in a surrendering gesture. “Alright, fine. I yield.”

  “Ashe summoned clones from the Mirror World and managed to catch Picasso off guard!” Viper said loudly. “Picasso has yielded! The winner is…Ashe the Merciful!” The spectators began to cheer, and wave their fists as they celebrated Ashe’s victory. “And you know what this means, folks! Ashe Smoldris has won the hand of Princess Juleka Glass! He is our new Prince and future King! This is definitely a rags-to-riches story! From slave to Prince! Who would have thought?”

  Ashe approached the sequestered area in the stands were two thrones were positioned side by side. Seated upon the thrones were Princess Juleka and her mother Queen Krista. Ashe warily looked up at the Queen of Glass Kingdom, and Krista offered Ashe a warm smile, and a nod of acceptance.

  Ashe was stunned by the Queen’s reaction to his victory. He’d expected the Queen of Glass Kingdom to be disappointed by the outcome of the tournament, and even angry. But oddly enough, she seemed pleased. Ashe tentatively smiled back at Queen Krista. He turned his gaze to Juleka, grinned at her, and raised his sword in a triumphant pose. Juleka. Ashe thought with a warm feeling building up inside of his chest, and spreading throughout his body. My Queen.

  Tears filled Juleka’s gray-blue eyes as she stared down at Ashe and returned his smile. There was a slight blush to her cheeks, and Ashe was certain he could see the love for him shinning in her eyes. This moment couldn’t get any better. Ashe felt happy, and that was a rare feeling for him. He felt loved and accepted by Juleka and her mother. He was going to become Krista’s son-in-law. Ashe would have a mother again. I wonder if she’ll let me call her ‘Mom’? Ashe wondered, feeling giddy.

  However, at that moment a cloaked and hooded figure stood up from his seat in the stands. The figure lowered his hood to reveal that it was Lord Christian Tremaine. “Ashe!” Christian yelled to make sure that he had Ashe’s full attention. “Everyone you get close to dies!” He reached into his cloak, pulled out a revolver, and pointed it at Queen Krista.

  Ashe’s eyes widened in horror as he realized Christian’s nefarious intentions. He was too far away to stop the insane man. “No! Don’t do it!”

  But Christian’s attention was fully on Queen Krista. “If you want something done right. You have to do it yourself.” He pulled down on the trigger and fired at Krista. The bullet flew through the air, and entered the side of Queen Krista’s head with a splatter of blood. She was killed instantly.

  Juleka let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of her mother being killed right before her eyes. “Mother!” Tears started to stream down Juleka’s face as she watched her mother’s limp body slump sideways on the throne. As Juleka’s tears dripped off her cheeks they transformed into blue diamonds as they fell down through the air.

  “He killed the Queen!” “The Queen is dead!” “Nooo! Queen Krista!” Panicked shouts began to rise up from the spectators in the stands.

  A sinister smile spread across Christian’s face as he turned his attention to the spectators. He spread his arms wide at his sides in a dramatic pose. “Yes. I killed your beloved Queen Krista Glass. Boohoo! Don’t worry. You still have your princess whom I intend to marry!”

  “Guards!” Ashe shouted from the arena floor. “Arrest Lord Christian Tremaine!”

  The Royal Guards stood up from their seats in the stands, unsheathed their broadswords, and pointed them in Lord Tremaine’s direction.

  “Give it up, Lord Tremaine,” Ashe called up to him. “You’re completely outnumbered! There’s no way you’re getting out of here alive - not after the stunt you just pulled!”

  Even though Christian was surrounded by foes, he laughed evilly. “Buhahaha! Oh, you think you’ve cornered me? You think you’ve won? Think again! I didn’t put too much faith in my useless son Picasso. I knew he’d ultimately fail me. That’s why I had a Plan B! Reveal yourselves, boys! It’s time to get this party started!”

  Several men wearing black, hooded cloaks stood up from their seats in the stands. They removed their cloaks in an ostentatious manner, and tossed them aside to reveal the brightly colored suits they were wearing underneath. Yellow, red, purple, green, and blue were some of the suits’ colors. The mobsters were also wearing fedoras, ties with geometric patterns, and dress shoes.

  As soon as Ashe took in the strange, outlandish clothing the men were wearing he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. The mobsters reached into their jackets, pulled out their Tommy guns, and aimed them at the Royal Guards.

  “Let them eat lead, boys!” Christian shouted in a gleeful voice.

  The mobsters opened fire upon the Royal Guards and a rat-tat-tat-tat sound filled the air. Even as a spray of bullets headed towards them, the knights bravely raised their swords and tried to use their weapons to fend off the machinegun fire. But, it was no use.

  Ashe remembered Picasso’s earlier ominous words: A sword can’t win against a gun, Ashe. There’s a saying from my world: you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.

  The bullets either flew past the swords or shattered their blades. When the bullets hit armor, they pierced the armor, and imbedded themselves in the guards’ bodies. As soon as the terrifying machinegun fire had started the spectators had stood up from their seats, and had started to run for the exits while screaming at the tops of their lungs. They were desperate to escape the fate of the Royal Guards, who were some of the most powerful men in all of Fantasia.

  During the ensuing chaos, Christian managed to make his way over to Princess Juleka unhindered. By this time, Princess Juleka had gotten out of her throne, and was on her knees in front of Queen Krista. Juleka was staring up into her mother’s still face with a forlorn expression. “Mother…”

  Juleka jumped when she felt something touching her shoulder, and turned to see Christian digging the barrel of his revolver painfully into her flesh. “You’re coming with me, Toots. And don’t try anything funny, or else you’ll get to find out just how it feels to eat lead.” Juleka’s eyes widened in fear, but she stood up, and didn’t try to fight back as Lord Tremaine escorted her out of the coliseum at gunpoint.

  Ashe had been so distracted by the gruesome fate of the Royal Guards that by the time he returned his attention to Juleka he saw that Lord Tremaine was escorting her out of the coliseum. The blood drained out of Ashe’s face. “Lord Tremaine! Where do you think you’re going? Come back here and fight me, you cowardly bastard! Let Juleka go!”

  “So long, sucka!” Christian called over his shoulder as he shoved Juleka through the exit.

  “Shit!” Ashe swore as he lost sight of them, and only the sound of Lord Tremaine’s maniacal laughter reached his ears. Ashe turned and ran for the open gate that led to the prep area. He crossed the threshold and kept running until he was heading down a corridor, which led to an exit. He kicked the door open and exited the coliseum.

  Ashe looked around wildly for any sign of Lord Tremaine and Juleka, and cursed the helpless feeling that was welling up inside of him. So fucking useless. He inwardly berated himself.

  The obnoxious sound of a car honking drew Ashe’s attention, and he spotted Lord Tremaine and Juleka inside of a black and white Cadillac Panther Deville. Christian was driving while Juleka was seated in the front passenger seat. She looked absolutely terrified, and her fear was probably a mix of being afraid of Christian and of being inside of a car for the first time in her life.

  Christian drove right past Ashe on purpose, and slowed the car down as if taunting him. Ashe lunged for the car, but Christina pointed his revolver at Ashe’s head. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t come any closer unless you want to meet the same fate as Quee
n Krista, and end up on ice.”

  Ashe clenched his hands into fists at his sides while Juleka shot him a worried look. “Ashe, don’t!”

  “The next time you see Juleka she’ll have a huge rock on her finger, and she’ll be my wife! Sorry, but you’re not invited to the wedding. Well, we’d better get going. I’m taking Juleka to the church right now.” Christian cackled evilly as he drove away.

  “Get back here, you perverted old man!” Ashe roared, waving his fist angrily at the departing car. As Lord Tremaine sped off at top speed Ashe caught sight of a small, white, metal plaque on the back of the car, which read: P54 CHO. At first glance the strange combination of letters and numbers looked like the word: psycho.

  Feeling a mixture of frustration and despair, Ashe could do nothing but watch as the car grew further away with each passing second. A horse would never be able to catch up to the Cadillac, which meant he’d never get to the church in time to stop Christian from marrying Juleka.

  A horse can’t catch up to them, but what about a unicorn? Ashe suddenly mused. It’s now or never. I need to transform. I have to save the mother of my child! Come on! Awaken you shitty powers! I need you!

  Ashe threw his head back, and let out a tortured yell. His body started to glow with a golden-tinged light, and seconds later he transformed into a unicorn. Ashe open his eyes, blinked, and stared down at his shining, golden hooves. His eyes widened dramatically, and he pawed at the ground with his hoof. Whoa…I’m a unicorn! Brilliant!

  Ashe looked up, and his gaze focused on the Cadillac that was recklessly swerving around carriages on the road. A determined expression settled over the unicorn’s face, his eyes narrowed, he pawed at the ground, and let out an angry snort. That bastard took my woman! Juleka is mine! And I’m going to get her back! Ashe let out a loud whiney as he took off at a gallop, pursuing the Cadillac.

  The clopping sound of a rapidly approaching horse reached Christian’s ears, and he glanced into his rearview mirror. His gray eyes widened in alarm when he spotted a unicorn chasing after his Cadillac. “What the…?” he muttered darkly before a sudden thought occurred to him. “Holy fuck. It’s Ashe!” A sly smile curled Christian’s lips.