***
Zeke stood across the pitch from Ethan. It was the second day of the tournament and only four people remained and he and Ethan were among them. Zeke had also seen that Katsuro would be competing in the other match today. Ethan’s face was grim, and his jaw was set. Zeke sighed at the memory of the previous night. Ethan had said he was going to forfeit the match. But Zeke resisted that. They had sparred before he didn’t see why it would be any different. Ethan’s eyes had darkened at that point, but he had acquiesced and without another word gone to the room he shared with his wife in the tower. The two hadn’t spoken since then, practically ignoring one another at breakfast. The more Zeke thought about Ethan’s behavior of late, the more worried he became. Ethan had been distant, moody, withdrawn. And then there was the strange black glow to Ethan’s eyes during the battles with the wolves, and the seemingly supernatural feats that both Ethan and Cain had performed. All of it was worrisome. Zeke was certain that it was not Ethan who had killed Rose, despite the matching eyes. But his surety was only because he had seen Ethan and the killer at the same time. That didn’t mean he wasn’t involved, Zeke thought. Whispers of conspiracy formed in Zeke’s mind for the first time. What if the killer wasn’t alone, what could their ultimate goal be? If Ethan’s involved, this would be the perfect way to get me out of the way, Zeke thought, starting to mistrust his lifelong friend. Suddenly Zeke suspected that Ethan had been trying to get out of having to kill him, by avoiding the fight all together. Was Ethan being blackmailed? These and so many other thoughts and questions flowed through Zeke’s mind, like a rushing river. Yet here they were preparing to face each other in combat, and Zeke was more worried than ever. Why did I let my pride get the better of me? I should have let him walk away before one of us kills the other, Zeke thought worriedly, but then the signal was given, and the two men advanced at each other. Zeke put aside all his thoughts and worries. They couldn’t be part of the battle. They would compromise him. He breathed out all his fear, and embraced battle. The best of friends faced off from opposite sides of the field. Zeke set his jaw as their blades met for the first time. Ethan’s face was an unreadable mask. The two clashed in an emotionless battle. There was no conflict of ideology, no care who won or lost, just battle. In the end they had both earned the honor necessary for Katsuro to reveal the truth, but he had refused to see them. They now fought merely to see who would win, who was truly better. In a word, it was pure. Perhaps the purest battle ever fought. Neither of them would win based on morale, or some inner strength that came from fighting for a cause. The winner would be chosen by skill alone. Zeke fought, using all his skill, but he and Ethan were far too closely matched for either of them to gain the upper hand quickly. They knew each other too well for anything to come as a surprise. Their blades whizzed through the air and pinged off one another almost too fast to distinguish the individual strokes. It was Ethan who scored the first hit. Zeke was just a hair to slow leaping out of the way. He mentally cursed his slowness. As he felt hot blood drip down his cheek. He saw Ethan’s mask break just for a moment, a mixture of satisfaction, and something Zeke couldn’t identify showed in his eyes. Whatever that something was, it sent a chill down Zeke’s spine. Zeke redoubled his efforts and landed the next two blows, both to Ethan’s left arm. They were deep, but cosmetic only. Zeke’s efforts were rewarded when the second blow struck true he saw Ethan’s impassive mask break in a snarl of rage and pain. Then something shifted, and the fight was pure no more. Ethan’s painful snarl turned into a sneer and his blade came with more and more power behind it. Soon he had so much force to his blows that Zeke didn’t dare to directly block them. Instead he worked to catch Ethan’s blade and turn it away from himself. It was something Zeke had seldom done, and consequently he struggled to keep Ethan’s dancing sword at bay. Ethan’s eyes started to glow faintly black, and Zeke was driven further and further back. Zeke knew he had to do something quick, when his heel touched the fence that surrounded the pitch. I won’t be killed by my friend, Zeke thought desperately. Then preternatural power surged through Zeke. He watched Ethan’s blade coming towards the crown of his head. Allowing himself a tight smile, Zeke went right under Ethan’s swinging arms, rolling his wrists as he twirled to face Ethan. Zeke was sure he would strike the final blow, as he watched his blade move, as if in slow motion towards Ethan’s exposed back. But Ethan was faster. Ethan whirled towards Zeke, easily sidestepping out of Zeke’s range, and delivered a counter strike of his own. His sword coming right at Zeke’s head. No time, Zeke thought desperately. As the blade grew closer, Zeke had one final thought. This, is how it ends. Struck down by a friend. He closed his eyes, and prepared to meet those on the other side.
***
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