Scowling, Irene takes aim with her rifle, but as she shoots her target vanishes from her sights, and the bullet bites the floor where he once he was. Blinking, she looks off to her right and spots Dante, having side-thrust on air balance to dodge her shot. She takes aim and shoots again, but he dodges again, sliding back to where he was before. Becoming furious, she zooms out on her vision, aiming at more of an area around him, and fires a rapid burst of bullets, spreading to hit multiple points in a small area.
The rain of bullets miss Dante as he avoids them by dashing forward, then up, on air balance, rolling a few times to gather momentum as his trajectory carries him to Irene. Startled and without time to take another shot at him, she responds instead by drawing an energy dagger from her right hand to meet Dante’s descending sword.
The two blades clash and lock, the heavy blow from Dante dragging them down in the air instead of breaking through his sister’s defense. They struggle in the dead-lock for a moment, brother and sister boring through each other with their similar eyes, before Dante pulls a fast one by kicking at her side with his right foot. With the jab flinching her, it leaves her open for a spiraling slice of the sword, a green wound streaking across her chest, and a rising sweep cutting through her lower leg, nearly severing it while flipping her over, off air balance, and to the ground.
After hitting the floor on her back, Irene cringes, irritated at the damage done to her, and when she looks up to see Dante falling upon her rolls sideways to the left, just in time to avoid him planting the point of his katana deep into her. With him having stuck it in the floor instead, he is left open to Irene spraying another burst of bullets at him, and they pound into his leg, chest, and shoulder, the wounds blooming bright green, then yellow. Before she punctuates the opening, Dante thinks quickly enough to abandon his sword, its energy vanishing from his hands, and bends back to avoid a single, direct, more powerful shot from her rifle, sliding and spinning to lay himself low on the ground.
In a brief moment of respite, the two siblings, their wound colors and expressions similar, stare from where they are, about twenty yards between them with Dante lying flat on the floor and Irene kneeling, her rifle’s aim fixed on him. Seeing her expression is focused and disciplined, he knows her mentality is in the fight now, and with that also knows he’s pinned. If he tries to make a move, in any direction, her rifle would follow and shoot him.
As Dante tries to think of a way to get out of his situation and back at her, he finds he has little time when Irene forms a small object of condensed energy in her right hand and, smirking, tosses it across the floor to him. In dread, he recognizes what the object is, and is forced to launch himself straight up into the air, leaving the grenade to blast the space he had once been in. In the split second he floats in the air, Irene’s rifle fires, and only by twisting himself in another air thrust to the side does he let the bullet hit his knee, busting it in a gush of yellow that makes him cringe.
Wounded from Irene flushing him out, Dante pushes himself to propel his air balance in a wide descent back to the ground, grinding across it on his feet while revolving around her position. Estimating his movement, Irene stands and whirls in the opposite direction, her gun spraying bullets to cross his path and cut through him, but he flips over them, continues his drift, and closes the distance, making contact with a spinning slash of his reformed sword through her side before she could turn to him.
Flinching from the bite of the blade, Irene finds herself only able to receive more bites as Dante’s agility surpasses hers. Every time she turns to point and shoot her gun at him, he does short dashes away, then back to her from the side or behind, the katana in his right hand swiftly slicing more wounds upon her. When she realizes he’s toying with her, flogging her before the audience breathlessly watching, her frustration gives her the way out, leaping high on air balance as he sweeps away from her. When Dante blindly returns and cuts where she once was, she fires down into him, and the bullet’s dive pierces through his torso, entering below the neck and exiting above his pelvis with a burst of dark orange energy.
***
Knowing his mistake before it hit him, Dante staggers from the heavy damage, his wounds blending with his armor in a malevolent aura, before collapsing to his knees. Meanwhile, smirking in satisfaction, Irene lands a few yards away, keeping her gun locked onto her brother in his crippled state.
Looking to her, Dante can see she is as heavily wounded as him with tattered and torn wounds all over her glowing a burnt orange. What makes her better off than him, though, is none of her wounds are vital. Even when he tries to straighten himself, the vital wound through his spine reacts, spitting out red sparks of energy.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, brother,” Irene croons, letting her marksman stance relax a little. “All of that rage and effort, gone to waste. I was worried you may have had me for a moment. But, naturally, you didn’t seize the opportunity, and now you will pay for it when I ‘execute’ you before everyone around us.” When all he does is glare back at her, she chuckles. “Still steaming, eh? I wouldn’t blame you. It’s alright, though, because now I will put you out of your misery. But I won’t do it by simply shooting you. Instead, I’m going to end this with a bang.” Holding up another grenade formed in her hand, she concludes, “A big bang,” before throwing it at Dante, and it splits into several more grenades after one bounce that spread out towards him.
Before the net of grenades reaches him, a silent Dante reveals that he is not ready to be put down with a quick flick of his sword. While he couldn’t fully move without upsetting his wound, he could gather air balance, unnoticed by Irene, and with the flick casts out a vicious gale, catching the grenades and blowing them back at her. Unprepared for such a counter, all she can do is pale in her expression before the grenades explode. Not all of the blasts reach her, but the ones that do are enough to ravage her, ripping her wounds open in bloody red plumes. Reeling from the damage, she manages to bring her gun up again, and her shot is instantaneous to Dante’s air thrust stabbing his sword through her.
In what seems like an embrace, Dante and Irene, brother and sister, are face-to-face, his blade sticking out of her back. Her expression frozen in a gasp, and his a grimace set in stone, their golden eyes meet, gleaming in silence, before both of their bodies erupt with red energy from the final wounds each endured and they demorph. In their human forms, they are both seized by pain, caught short of breath, and falter before falling to the floor together with Dante lying upon Irene.
***
A very surprised and quiet crowd stares at the pair in the arena, unsure of what would happen next, until the announcer above declares, “Both combatants demorphed at the same time, and are both unconscious. The first one to recover consciousness shall be declared the winner.” The audience holds its breath, staring with more intent, as a long minute passes with neither sibling stirring. Then, someone gasps and points, and soon all can see movement from the brother. As his body struggles to push himself up, the announcer confirms, “And the winner is Dante Goros,” and almost the whole gymnasium explodes with applause, many of the students rising from their seats with praise.
His eyes, and whole body, still heavy, Dante blinks at his sister yet unconscious beneath him. The fires of his rage burnt out, he looks at her for a few seconds and reaches to softly stroke her hair and cheek. Deaf to the huge amount of noise being made, he whispers in a sigh, “I’m sorry, sister. I am so sorry.” A single tear shines from his right eye, streaking down his own cheek, as the reality of how truly damaged Irene is weighs upon him more than his own trauma. He knows what must be done for her, what he must do to save whatever is left of her, as his body yet trembles with fatigue and grief while medics arrive to attend them both.
Chapter 16
Passion and Corruption
***
After the announcement of Cynthia and an absent Dante being the finalists for the green division, the semifinals of the Alkalian College Championship are concluded.
The students and staff depart, and after a few days of no classes, to give the finalists time to rest and all others to anticipate, the final round would begin.
Later into the evening, rather than resting, many of the students throughout the community are partying. The casino is the busiest it has been the whole semester, and numerous cabins are full of noise from their residents, celebrating the big break from their studies. In some cabins, there are complete parties going on, with music and drinking and dancing. In other cabins, there are more secluded and private festivities occurring.
One such cabin is among the seniors’ lot, in the apartment of the second of three floors. The most of it, the wide living room, a kitchen off to the side, and a bathroom down the hall on the left, is still and quiet. From the bedroom at the end of the hall, however, comes some kind of crying gasp of exhilaration. For a long moment after it, the sound of heavy breathing reverberates throughout the room before the pile of blankets and sheets on the bed, a rich brown in color, stirs and unwraps, revealing Buster rolling off Amelia. Their bare bodies glisten with sweat, and Buster's eyes remain fixed wide open while Amelia arches and stretches next to him.
His eyes still wide, his chest rising and falling with each breath, Buster says, “Wow, that was amazing.”
Smiling, Amelia strokes back some hair and looks at the ceiling, saying, “I’m sure it was, Buster, but you don’t have to act so surprised.”
“No, really, I mean it! Damn, it’s been awhile. It’s just, I thought it’s not as ‘thrilling’ as fighting, but now I see how wrong I was!”
She chuckles at him. “Yep, how wrong, you were.”
“Yeah.” His expression relaxing with one last sigh, Buster asks Amelia, “So, how’d I do, compared to Matt?”
“Hmm. Well, you were much more rapid than him, and a little too forceful. Almost as good as Matt, but still great.”
“Just great, huh? Then what was with the gasp near the end, there?”
“Simple, you were actually hurting me. Hence how it was a little too forceful.”
“Oh! Jeez, I’m sorry, then. I must have gotten carried away.”
“Yes, you did. But don’t worry about it, I can handle rough love, too. In the end, it was all good.”
“Ah, okay.” The two lay on the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling and resting their bodies, when Buster then asks, “Why do you do it?”
“Hmm?”
“You know, why do you do, uh, this?”
Amelia is slow to respond, turning onto her side to face him, before saying, “I’m just good at it, I suppose.”
“Oh, come on, Amelia, there must be more to it than that! It must be more than just for the pleasure, because you are pretty picky about who you sleep with. Am I right?”
“…I guess.” She looks to him, as if considering something, and then begins solemnly, “Do you remember the Reaver Famine, about twenty years ago in Saratu?”
“The Reaver Famine? …Oh, yeah! Those crazy wind storms that went and destroyed all your crops, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Without the crops, we lost our resources for food and trade, and the king at the time poorly responded to the crisis. It was a dark time for us in Saratu, especially those of us in rural towns. Many of us thought we had somehow invoked the Wind Spirit’s wrath upon us.” She looks to the sheets, softly sliding her hand over her hip, as she continues. “One day, a band of ruffians came into our town. They were ruthless, but desperate for food and drink, sacking many of our homes and gathering us all in the center of town. There were too many of them, we couldn’t have fought them off, and with the state wide recession there was no law to uphold in places like ours.
“When the thugs knew we had no more to give them in food, they could have moved on, but their leader got a different idea. He was tired of them roaming from one place to another, and decided our town looked comfy and secure enough for the lot of them to make their base of operations. They could go out and raid more towns, then come back and rest for the evening. And as they were settling in, the most of them wanted to have their way with the women. I was only about six years old, so I wasn’t old enough to be targeted. Fortunately, their boss quickly stopped their sexual assaults, to keep them in order and reserved for more important business. Unfortunately, he wanted the women for himself, and announced that he should have one in his bed every night or we would all suffer.”
Turning to face Amelia, Buster cringes. “Sounds like it was a rough time for ya. So, what happened?”
“Well, we were all still terrified of the raiders, and this final demand from their leader put all of the women into sheer grief and fear. But then, to everyone’s surprise, one of them stepped forward, knelt to the boss thug, and gave herself up to be his concubine every evening, to take the place of all the others. She was Esther Rotin, my mother.”
“Whoa, what? Your mom gave herself up, like that?”
“Yes, she did. And the boss, either impressed by her bravery or bemused by her simple beauty, accepted her. And that’s how it was for awhile. The raiders would come back every evening, and my mother would serve them and the boss, all by herself, and then satisfy his cruel tastes until the morning. The rest of the villagers both tabooed her, unsettled she had the nerve to give herself to the thug’s whims, and admired her, for her sacrifice spared all the other women from the same fate.”
“Damn. And what did you think of her?”
“To be honest, I was very confused. I understood enough that something bad was happening to her every night, but every morning after she would come back, tired and bruised, and assure me that everything was okay. Plus, while the rest of the village barely survived off the scraps of whatever the raiders brought back, she got more than her fair share of food from the leader thug, and so she and I were in better conditions. But we all still lived in fear and dread, I knew that, and many prayed feverishly for a miracle, for something to free us from this misery. And then, one day, our prayers were answered.”
“Oh? How so?”
Now smiling a little, Amelia tells him, still staring into the past, “A lone stranger came wandering into our town. He didn’t look like much, in his ragged clothes and black cape, but we soon found out that he was a ranger of Saratu. While most of the villagers wanted him to hurry away, fearing the thugs would catch and kill him when they came back, it was my mother, again, who stepped up and offered him our small house to stay in, assuring him fresh food and drink despite our harsh times. He gladly accepted, and that afternoon, as I watched in wonder from the other room, my mother happily served him, they talked for awhile, and then they were kissing and making love.
“When evening came, my mother left to serve the returning raiders, but the ranger stayed in our place, being awfully calm and quiet. He tried a few times to talk to me, but I was terribly shy of this stranger, especially since my mother had so quickly taken him in and pleasured him. A few more days went by of this arrangement, my mother being with him in the day and with the thugs at night, until he suddenly got up and left. I, and many of the villagers, thought to never see him again. But then, that very night, after the raiders had come back and were sleeping, he returned. And this time, he wasn’t alone.
“Leading other rangers and mercenaries, he and his company rushed through the town and routed the thugs, capturing those who surrendered and killing those who resisted before they knew what was going on. And as for the leader thug, when all the dust had settled, we learned he had been killed, too. By my mother, in his sleep. It finally, literally dawned on us that morning what had happened. My mother had informed the ranger of our plight, and with information she got from the boss coordinated with the ranger to bring about the liberation of our town.”
Buster is awed by the end of Amelia’s story when he says, “Wow. That was well done, by your mother. She must have been a strong and clever woman.”
“Yes, she was. She had saved our town through her selfless actions, and we heralded her thereafter as our heroin
e during the Reaver Famine.” Amelia looks back to Buster, her smile broader and her eyes gleaming. “And that’s why, I guess, I took up sleeping with men I come to find favor in. It’s my way of doing what my mother did. It’s my way of honoring what she had done for our whole village. And, this year, I’m especially proud of it, because I helped a young, handsome, good-hearted man overcome his shyness and sexually mature.”
“Heh, yeah. Matt’s one lucky guy to catch your eye.” Also smiling, Buster reaches over and strokes Amelia’s side fondly. “Well, now it all makes sense to me.”
“Good. And, thank you, Buster.” She shifts herself closer to him, looking into his eyes. “You’re one of the few I’ve ever told that story to and understood it.”
“Not a problem, Amelia.” His arm slipping around her to hold her close against him, Buster pauses before shaking his head. “Damn, you must be so much like your mother. Brave, smart, and beautiful.”
Amelia chuckles, pressing herself against him as her arm crosses his waist. “Not much different from you, then, am I?” They both laugh before she asks, “So, what shall we do now? Go to sleep, or enjoy ourselves, one more time?”
“Hmm. Well, we seem to have embraced each other again. And I would like a second chance to best Matt!”
“Hah, well then, you can have as many chances as you need.” They both grin before their lips meet in a passionate kiss and Buster pulls the blankets back over them, submerging them in sweet sensations once more.
***
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