The Duel

“Ashlyn, you can’t stop them once they’ve started fighting! It’s against the law!” John called after me. I could hear him and a confused Emilia running behind me, but they must not have been able to see me well enough to stop me. The faeries were rushing through a certain door, which got filled up and crowded before they could all get through it. I pushed and shoved my way through any empty spots in the crowd in order to get in. Being invisible isn’t the best way to go in a crowd: I got stepped on and elbowed in the face a few times.

There were gasps and murmurs throughout the crowd, the fighting had already started. There were flashes of light, weird noises, and the metallic clanging of swords. Finally I could see them between two heads, when a momentary lull was taking place.

The two brothers stood facing each other, opposites with their black and white hair, swords drawn. I’d never seen Ciaran with a sword before. In fact, I’d never seen him on the offense, ever. Since he’s always been either wounded or on the run, I imagined that he didn’t even know how to use one. But he stood in what looked like a practiced battle stance, and he held the sword with one hand. He was twirling it, actually, a slight smile on his face.

“I thought you said you were done with violence, bookworm.” Brand said lazily. He had no shield, and inspected the fingernails of his left hand as he spoke.

Ciaran raised a mocking eyebrow and tilted his head. A weird aura rippled around him like the surface of a pond, and he became a little worm on a closed book, waving a tiny sword. The crowd laughed.

Brand swung his sword up to block as Ciaran suddenly appeared beside him, lunging. They both had fast reflexes, but Brand was stronger. He threw his younger brother several feet away with one push. Ciaran got his footing back.

“Not to sound cliché, but--” he panted, and rushed forward to attack again. “Where is she?”

“Your lover? Don’t worry, I won’t kill you until she gets here.”

“Much obliged.” Ciaran said dryly.

Their blades crashed together again. It was getting more and more intense. I fought through the crowd to get closer, but the room was packed. You’d think that they would have picked a larger room to hold such an important fight in.

“Is the human girl here yet?” Brand called out. “I wouldn’t want her to miss this.”

“She’s here.” someone called out. I didn’t know who; they weren’t close to me.

Brand grinned. “Good. In that case, watch carefully, Ashlyn. Watch as I--”

I growled in frustration. The stupid crowd! “Wait! Not so fast!” I yelled, straining to see them.

Ciaran had stopped and stood still, as Brand had disappeared. In his place was a chair. It was just a plain, ordinary wooden chair, but it made him pale.

You haven’t forgotten, brother? Words no one else heard except Ciaran. He turned to see other strange images flashing around him, most of which were either too fast or didn’t make sense to the rest of us. The only one I recognized was an alleyway with a dumpster in it, a broken bottleneck rolling across the pavement.

Brand was just toying with him. Whatever significance these images had, they seemed to have an effect on Ciaran. His guard was lowering.

I elbowed a poor faery in my way and finally broke through the front lines. Maybe it was my half-invisible state, but I could see Brand’s figure coming into focus, ready to stab my faery in the back.

This will be more awesome if you imagine it in slow motion, with the sound of a heartbeat drowning out whatever it was I yelled as I rushed forward to save my poor, stupid Ciaran from certain death. I think that I meant to tackle him to safety, or at least to warn him about Brand’s position, but as he turned around to see him, he was too slow.

Brand stabbed him through the chest, in one, swift motion. Ciaran fell to the ground before I could get to him. The crowd gasped.

I reacted immediately. Brand looked surprised to see me, and confused as my slightly transparent right hook caught him on the jaw. He staggered back, right as I was surprised and confused to see another Ciaran to the left of us.

We stared at each other. I looked back at the other Ciaran on the floor. He faded. The Ciaran staring at all those images had been the fake. The new Ciaran and I stared at each other again, and then at Brand, who’d fallen to the floor.

Ciaran burst out laughing: hoots, knee-slapping, and everything. It was very irreverent for a man who’d almost died. “You punched him! Brand! You just got punched by a girl!”

He wasn’t out of trouble yet. I grabbed him by his collar. “You let me think you were dead!”

“Don’t kill me!” my faery giggled, gasping for breath. “I was clever, wasn’t I?”

“Clever?! Why, you--”

“Enough!” Brand got up, nursing his jaw. “You think this is over? You know the punishment for interrupting a duel, don’t you?”

“Punishment?” I echoed.

“What does that matter now?” Ciaran cut in, standing up straight. “If I could beat you so easily, you’re no match for the new king.”

“You didn’t beat me!” Brand snapped. “If it wasn’t for your stupid girl--”

The fire-alarm-noise went off again, only louder, faster, and more urgent.

            “Ah-ha.” Brand grinned. “He’s here already.”