On the Hills of Eden

Pallas adjusted her fingers, the familiar feel of her blood soaked bandages wrapping about her hands and forearms reassuring her of her experience.

The clear light of the noon sky above head shone down upon the two contestants, the shadows it cast upon the rough, yellow-ish white concrete nothing but mere blobs directly beneath their persons.

The wind was still, and the air was cool– each breath Pallas took sent a current of cold through her nasal cavities as she ran through the thoughts in her head.

All she had to do was to catch Isami.

The Kitsunite before her raised her fists, sliding her right left backwards as shadow fell upon her face. The two ends of the black belt tied around her waist hung dead in place, and the only hint of movement in her enemy’s entire body was the slight swishing of her fluffy black tail.

“Ready!”

The announcer’s voice echoed out through the concourse, bouncing off of the four walls of the building that entirely enclosed their arena.

In the corner of her eye, Pallas caught a glimpse of his and the other observers’ bodies, perched upon the roofs of the fourth floor of the perimeter structure. A step below them was the roof of the third floor, and a step below that was the roof of the second. After that, the building’s innermost facade bent inwards, making way for a veranda that led into the first floor.

The entire thing was structured like a colosseum. Which she found fitting, given the things at stake.

She felt her heart throb in her chest.

But there was nothing to worry about. Sure, she would have to avoid getting herself subdued or knocked out by Isami in the five-minute limit she had to achieve her goal, but she knew that neither side had the advantage.

She knew not the full extent of Isami’s capabilities, Isami knew not the full extent of her Blessing. And since neither side had access to any Instruments, neither side had the advantage.

Knowledge was power, and neither of the two had any.

“Set!”

Isami’s fluffy ear twitched slightly.

All she had to do was to play it safe, scoping out Isami’s limits while keeping her own strengths concealed.

She felt the blood bandages she’d wrapped over her body that were hidden under the gi they’d given her for today tighten slightly.

All she had to do was to play reactionarily.

The wind picked up.

Only then would she be in the know. And only then would she have the advantage.

“Go!”

Pallas felt a surge of blood in her right hand, culminating in the very tips of her curled up index and middle fingers.

The two girls remained frozen in place, both awaiting the other’s first move.

But even as Pallas felt the urge to immediately catch Isami off guard, stunning her with a partial bloodbeam before following up with heavier follow-ups, she held still.

She had a gameplan.

The wind lifted momentarily, their gis flowing about their motionless forms as the two girls continued to eye each other down.

With each beat of her heart, each breath she took, Pallas could feel the seconds tick down.

Five, then ten, then twenty.

Or was it just her heart that was beating faster?

Pallas couldn’t tell.

She felt her leg fight against her for a moment, almost as if trying to burst into action. But she held firm, and she held herself to the plan.

After all, Isami was the one who had sought her out specifically to offer her the duel. There was no way she would simply let the timer-

Isami thrust her hand into her pocket, sliding herself to the right.

Pocket sand!

Pallas swivelled on her feet, drawing her left back and keeping her eyes affixed onto Isami as she surged to Pallas’ left flank.

The air before her suddenly erupted into a cloud of yellow dust, and she raised her hands before her face in anticipation for the impact.

When she caught something in the corner of her eye.

It was Isami, approaching from her right.

Pallas shifted, the side of her palm just barely catching Isami’s fist as she felt the full force of her time-accelerated punch drive itself into her head.

She rolled backwards, sliding across the concrete and feeling as her gi scratched and tore itself against its surface.

She dug her feet into the floor, lifting herself up with her hands– Isami now approaching for a second blow.

She caught the attack, Isami’s fist colliding with the incredibly well-reinforced blood-soaked bandages on her right forearm.

Pallas latched onto Isami’s wrist with her left hand, throwing her right shoulder backwards as she yanked Isami directly into a punch.

When Isami’s elbow slammed into her face, the Kitsunite having twirled within her grasp before she had been able to react.

Pallas stumbled backwards, fighting her eyes’ urge to squint and forcing them back open.

She ducked, Isami’s leg swooping over where her head had been mere moments prior.

She sprung back up, the muscles in her thighs and glutes firing in unison as she speared a fist into Isami’s abdomen, throwing the Kitsunite well across the concourse– even if she had managed to avoid most of the damage by blocking the blow.

“One minute has passed!”

Pallas threw forth her left arm, unravelling one end of her length blood bandage and sending it screaming through the air in pursuit of Isami. The crimson tendril slithered and soared, snagging the Kitsunite by the ankle just as she landed back onto the concrete.

She yanked on the bandage, launching herself forward in a colossal leap as the tendril contracted in on itself and pulled Isami onto the ground.

Isami didn’t know what she was capable of.

Pallas felt as her blood began to boil, surging and rising in waves beneath her skin as it raced about in tune with the thunderous drumming of her heart– the growing pressures building in her right fist as she drew it back in preparation for impact.

When the air above Isami suddenly exploded into another cloud of yellow, rapidly shooting out into the space above the Kitsunite as Pallas moved to shield her eyes from the dust.

She felt a fist pound itself into her stomach.

Isami hadn’t thrown the sand as a diversion to escape. It was a diversion to attack.

Pallas slammed back onto the solid concrete, tumbling backwards and away from the girl still enshrouded behind the yellow cloud as she shot back into position.

She traced the fingers of her left palm over the point of impact, feeling as the near solid wall of blood-soaked bandages slowly returned to their usual softness.

Isami burst out of the cloud of sand, surging forwards at speeds achievable only through the slowing of time–

Pallas struck her square in the forehead, the partially formed beam of blood scattering off of her skin and turning to mist behind her as Isami collapsed onto her knees.

She bolted forwards, pressing the advantage to slam her fist into Isami’s gut the very moment her eyes began to refocus.

The Kitsunite tumbled through the air, bouncing off of the concrete before finally colliding with a wooden support beam that held up the second story to create the veranda space.

Isami threw herself off of the splintering pillar, watching as Pallas’ fist dove into its broken form mere moments after.

And she leapt through an open window, entering the building’s dim interior.

She had her on the backfoot.

Pallas stepped through the window, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the sudden change in brightness.

She looked around, her eyes just barely making out the form of a table to her left–

There was a sudden glint of light off of a wooden blade decorated with steel, approaching from her left flank.

Isami drove the edge of the practice sword into Pallas’ chest, its sharp form digging even through the rapidly hardening blood bandages beneath her thick gi.

But that didn’t bother her.

Soon, the blade lost its grip, slipping off of her blood-reinforced chest and opening Isami up to a punch straight to the face.

The impact sent her reeling backwards, stumbling against the tables and up against the wall opposite Pallas.

A wall decorated with a weapon stand. In fact, with her eyes now adjusted to the light, everywhere on the first floor seemed to be armed to the teeth. There were knives on the tables, axes on the stands.

Pallas watched as Isami suddenly faded into a blur, the full extent of her Time Technique– Masoku, as her Mother had told her– coming into view.

A wooden practice halberd disappeared from the weapon stand, and Pallas watched as the blur threw itself against the wall adjacent to her, running up against it and leaping off of it, swinging the halberd around in a great arc aimed directly at her head.

She threw up her left hand, blood surging from the bandages to form a viscous layer of deep red, catching the blade of the polearm just as it slammed into her.

The blood armour suddenly hardened, ensnaring the weapon, Pallas seizing the opportunity to yank it from Isami’s hands.

To her surprise, Isami gave zero fight, instead letting the polearm slip from her hands.

In turn, Pallas grabbed a hold of the halberd, thrusting its blunt end forwards to try and catch Isami as she slipped back to disengage.

But the Kitsunite dodged both attempts, swivelling around and causing Pallas to drive the end of the halberd dead into the wall opposite her.

The vibrations from the impact shook the building, the sound of knives rattling against the floor soon following as Pallas caught sight of Isami trying again to sneak a blow against her.

Throwing herself off of the halberd, Pallas slipped the first swing, reading her fist to return the favour.

Instead, Isami had kept the pressure on, herself plunging a fist forward.

And so their fists collided, slamming knuckle-on-knuckle as the two of them fought each other to a standstill.

But Isami began to cave, the additional strength conferred to Pallas by the several layer thick wrap of blood bandages proving too much for her to handle– even with Masoku.

She disengaged, forced back by Pallas as she fell backwards and onto her knees.

Rushing forward, Pallas swung her shin towards Isami’s chest, slicing through air as the Kitsunite recoiled out of the way.

A sharp pain suddenly struck Pallas on her nose, forcing her eyes shut as the sound of the wooden knives clattering against the floor graced her ears once more.

She forced her eyes open, watching as the Kitsunite’s bushy black tail disappeared out of the window.

“Two minutes have passed!”

Pallas threw herself forward again, leaping out of the window and throwing her blood bandages upwards to catch the edges of the second story window frame. She yanked herself up, digging her feet against the building’s wall as she emerged into the second story.

Once more, she saw Isami scrambled across the building, leaping through the window opposite her.

This time, Pallas threw her bandages out, latching onto the insides of the window frame.

She pulled back slightly, feeling as her blood rushed into the fibres of the cotton.

Then she released.

She sprung forward, pulled along by the tension within the bandages and the strength of her blood, sending her careening through the window and out into the air above the concourse– just barely missing Isami as she clamoured onto the tiled roof of the second story.

She immediately spun in the air, swinging one of the tendrils around before casting it forwards, tagging Isami with it. She pulled on the bandage with all her might, yanking Isami off of the roof and towards her– feeling the rush of excitement once more returning to her body.

She drove her knee into Isami’s body as the two met once more, the air erupted into a crackling stormcloud of seething blood.

Isami shot out from the collision, slamming limply onto the roof of the third story as Pallas latched her bandages onto the second story’s roof.

She landed against the window frame she first shot from, gathering her bearing for but a moment.

“Phew,” she gasped. “I could get used to that.”

She hauled herself onto the roof of the second story, watching as Isami disappeared back into the interior of the fourth floor.

Cognisant of the limited time she had remaining and Isami’s potential to entirely elude her and turn the match into a game of tag, Pallas followed suit, she too soon returning to the dim interior of the surrounding building.

She rolled against the floor, pressing up against the opposite wall as she rose to face Isami– some ten or so metres away from her.

A bow drawn and ready to fire in her arms.

Pallas immediately drew a fingergun, raising and pointing it dead at Isami’s forehead as she covered her face with her other hand.

And miraculously, the two of them fired.

Pallas felt as her blood armour suddenly rolled into being all over the front of her body, her eyes peeking out through the gaps in her fingers watching as she shifted backwards, the bloodbeam striking her dead in the forehead not long later and knocking her unconscious for the second time.

She felt as the blunt wooden arrow thudded against her chest, bouncing off of her gi and failing to penetrate the blood armour she had thrown up in the short time between her registering the bow and being struck by its arrow.

“Three minutes have passed!”

This was her chance.

She leapt from where she was crouching, using her hands to drag herself along. She began undoing the bandages about her arms, loosening them in preparation to–

Isami suddenly awoke just as Pallas got on top of her, drawing her legs in with a blur of speed before rocketing them back outwards.

The heels of her boots dug deep into Pallas’ abdomen, forcing themselves past even the unprepared blood bandages. She sent her straight through the window, soaring back out into the air above the concourse.

And as Pallas floated through the air, her mind went blank.

Two minutes remained, and yet Isami was still free from her grasp. Even worse, she had caught sight of the black blur slipping from window to window, disappearing down the fourth floor and, soon enough, out of her sight.

The skylight felt warm.

She wondered what the others were up to.

So very warm.

She burst into action once more, the blood that had been building up beneath her skin surging out and into the bandages, their searing temperatures and boiling vigour inundating the two tendrils with immense strength.

Pallas threw one end of the bandage at a window some ways ahead of Isami, the red arm snagging the Kitsunite just as she appeared within the window frame. It rushed about her arm, clamping shut in a vice grip as Pallas readied herself.

The tendril plucked Isami from the interior of the building, sending her soaring through the air above Pallas as she contorted to force the fleeing fox into the open.

There, in mid-air, her Masoku could save her no longer.

And she slammed Isami into the concrete below.

Pallas anchored her two blood limbs into the ground beside Isami, her eyes set on her target even as a small cloud of dust emerged to conceal her.

She pulled herself forwards, surging towards the earth as the bandages coiled themselves back around her arms.

She slammed into the concrete, just barely adjusting her stance such that her legs wouldn’t slam into Isami, forcing the dust to part.

Then, she simply stood over her, breathing heavily as her lengthy jet black hair that had long since been liberated from its hairband dangled on either side of her head.

“Pallas wins!”