Chapter 11: Don’t play with explosives without adult supervision
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“Hello Missy, looks like your friend ran off on you.”

 

              The bandits came out from behind the trees. There were 6 of them, with 4 arrayed in the back and two in the front. Two of the ones in the rear group had spears, one had a loaded crossbow and the fourth, the one who spoke, carried a longsword. The one closest to me to my left carried a spear, and the one to my right carried an ax.

 

              The bigger concern is how they managed to catch me by surprise. Now that I was aware of them, there was quite clearly an odor to them, the kind of odor you’d expect from a group that’s been living in the woods every day and has had an aversion to bathing. Previously I’ve noticed the monsters in the forest yesterday, and even the approach of that old man.

 

“Wha- how…”

 

I guess I wasn’t at my most eloquent at the moment. The bandit with the sword, who seemed to be their leader, chuckled.

“It looks like the masking potions the hag sold us did their jobs after all. We were almost about to take you and your witch-friend together, when our other team's target let out that scream. Who’d a thunk a future product screamin’ out like that would work to our advantage? It’s much easier getting the more adventurous types to come peacefully when they don’t have someone to play a hero in front of.”

 

              What? Adventurous types? I looked down, a glint off the hilt of the small sword hanging off my belt catching my eye. That must be what it is.

 

              They must think I’m some sort of guard for Mary. Their reaction towards her doesn’t seem to show any of the fear, or rather, abject horror that most people seem to display upon meeting her. They just saw a witch, and a girl with a sword walking a short ways behind her, like a bodyguard with their principle.  

 

              Two people alone is already pushing things safety-wise, even if they’re both reasonably competent in a fight, which I’m forced to assume Mary is. That’s just with two people. But one person, armed just with a sword…

 

“What do you want?” I asked, a sharp edge working its way into my voice.

 

“You,” the bandit leader replied. “There’s a big market for pretty young girls, and even those who seem a little older like you can go for a decent price.”

 

While the thought of being sold into slavery didn’t assuage the fear of facing off against six armed men, the second part of the bandits statement sure helped with my resolve to go down fighting. Seeming older? I may die, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let them make me a slave, and I’ll be damned if that bastard piece of shit gets out of here alive.

 

Sure, maybe people live shorter lives in a fantasy world? I’m not even 30 yet. I sure as hell don’t look close to thirty. Sure, I’m not some fairytale princess aged 18 with flawless skin, but I look decent enough. I think. Bastards.

 

“Grab her,” The bandit leader ordered. “She’s sure not to kick up a fuss when she’s outnumbered six to one.

 

It was then that a large flash of light appeared further along the trail, in the direction towards the scream Mary had run to. This flash was followed by several loud male screams, before they were drowned out by a series of loud explosions. The sound of shrapnel could be heard hitting trees off in the distance, and a cloud of smoke rose in the distance.  At the end of this all a final scream was let out before being abruptly silenced. The bandits stared, awestruck at the destruction that occurred. Taking advantage of the distraction, I drew my sword.

 

“Stop her!” The bandit shouted, having noticed the flash of my blade in the sun. The spear-man was the first to move. Strangely, it almost felt like the bandits were moving in slow motion. It seemed similar to a phenomena I had heard of from combat vets and police officers, where they report a change in the perception of time during startling event’s. Technically it’s a form of dissociation; even as my mind was thinking all of this my body was already acting.

 

Seeing me with my blade drawn, the spear-man did not hesitate to try and run me through, already moving towards me with his spear thrusting forward. The wideness of his eyes and the slight looseness of his jaw showed he was still distracted by the recent explosions, but he still had the sense and training to respond to the threat in front of him.

 

However, he was off balance, and his spear point was angled high towards my throat rather than towards center of mass. As the tip of the spear got further towards my throat and the delicate arteries, wind pipe and spinal column it houses, my body pivoted to face his.

 

As his spear got within a foot of my throat, my right wrist moved ever so slightly, deflecting the point of the spear further away from my throat. A step further closer to the spear-man moved the spear point well behind me and caused his eyes to widen in fear.

 

The tip of my sword followed a direct line from where it had remained after my parry countre de sixte straight towards his heart, with my hand, arm, and body following as if dragged along by the eager steel. Shock danced across his face as the sword made its way home, and then the spearman collapsed. The whole exchange took barely even a second.

 

              Before I even had time to register my victory, or the fact I had taken a life, I felt a slice across the back of my left leg, which was still sticking out slightly after my lunge. I quickly turned to face the ax-wielding bandit, relieved at the fact that my leg still seemed to be working. I felt a tinge of regret at ignoring him until now, but the spear-man had been the greater threat.

 

The ax-man smiled, feeling like he had gotten a point in on me. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the main group of the bandits arguing over whether the crossbowman should take the shot he had on me. I definitely couldn’t have that. I tossed the sword to my off-hand, switching my position slightly.

 

Reaching into the bag Mary had given me this morning, I pulled out…That. Yes. The thing I had been panicking over all day. Grabbing the wash leather sack by its draw strings, I threw it with all the strength I could muster without breaking my stance, sending it hard towards the feet of group 15 yards away. Seeing the bag flying towards him, the crossbowman’s hand instinctively pressed on the serpentine lever of the crossbow, sending a bolt whistling past my ear.

 

I wasn’t able to see the results of the explosion, as the shockwave knocked me and the ax-man off balance. Taking advantage of this lull, I switched the sword back to my dominant hand. The bandit regained his balance in time to parry a jab I made towards his head.

 

There was a tense moment as we both maintained eye contact. Then I dipped the tip of my blade slightly as if my grip slipped on the sword. Sensing an opening, he swung his ax down towards my chest. A parry with the forte defected the blade downward, his swing throwing him off balance. Perfect. My riposte seemed like it would be almost by the book until a slight twist in my opponent sent the tip into his shoulder instead.

 

Stopped. Damn it. I felt the heat of rage at this failure build up in the center of my chest. Then, something odd happened. The heat moved. Down my sword arm, through my hands, then manifesting as flames spiraling down my blade. The flames disappeared into the bandits wound, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream before falling backwards. Smoke rose from his mouth, and his eyes had a slight cloudiness from the heat of the phenomena.

 

Glancing back towards the main group of the bandits, I could see none of them were in any shape to fight. The crossbowman got the worst of it, although both of the remaining spear-men were already unconscious and beyond saving from the blood loss. Anyone who ever thinks “shoot them in the leg” is an effective way to non-lethally stop someone has clearly never taken an anatomy class, as the femoral artery will cause a fatal bleed in seconds.

 

The least unharmed was their leader, the one with the longsword. However, a fragment of something had torn across the inside of his upper arm before taking a good chunk out of his biceps, though he apparently had the sense to use his belt as a temporary tourniquet.

 

He gave me a pleading look.

 

“We didn’t know yah could use magic. We’re sorry, we thought the two of you were normal. You can heal, right? My band’ll give you gold if you save me.”

 

“Gold from doing what?”

 

“Don’t be stuck up. Those girls knew what they were getting into going off alone like that. Yah wouldn’t leave someone to die just for something like that right?”

 

With a swipe of my sword, I knocked the hand keeping pressure on his makeshift tourniquet away from his wounded arm.

 

“Not just for that. Me? ‘Older?’ I’m still in the prime of my new life.”

 

As his eyes grew dim I turned away and continued down the forest path.

 

 


 

 

        Of course, I only got about 25 yards away before I started shaking heavily. I may have had a lot of experience reading history books, but I’ve never been in a real life or death fight before. Even my military experience was more spent in windowless rooms doing various tasks, without that much in the way of field experience. All I could really say is that the severity of entering into this world has finally sunk it.

 

        Remembering my wound, I twisted to check out the back of my thigh. Luckily, it seems the thick skirt I’m wearing absorbed most of the impact, and the actual cut was rather shallow. It’d be better to put a bandage on it, but I won’t bleed out and I can still use my leg just fine. Turning my focus back onto the trail, I jogged on towards the site where Mary had fought.

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