The City of Ionia

The thick layer of clouds blocked the sun. Though it didn’t shine, the heat made me reek of sweat. Thankfully, it was dry and not humid.

I sat on the wooden table, fiddling with my dagger. It wasn’t dull, but it was due for a sharpening job, and I kept slacking on it.

I shouldn’t be here, I thought.

Randy, who was shirtless by the trees, swung his sword downwards. He repeated that same motion for an hour, and I could see his sweat from here.

The hunk of muscle on his back popped. There was no smoothness. Bumps of muscle covered his back, making his appearance prominent. A man of his size and caliber of strength had no business being a trainer.

He swung his sword again but stopped. He held his stance. He was like a mountain—an immovable force. His sword fell to the ground as he let out a heavy breath, clasping his hands in a prayer.

Once he finished, he picked up his sword and walked to the bench I sat on.

“Are you not going to train?” He asked while placing his sword beside him on the bench. He treated that thing as his own child.

“No need.”

“Let us spar.”

“Not interested.”

A faint reflection shone through my blade. My left eye wasn’t covered. I double-checked my pockets. My eyepatch was there. Good.

Something else was also in my pocket.

Putting my blade down, I sighed.

“You seem loose. Have you eaten anything?” Randy said.

“I can handle myself, Randy. If I need to eat, then I will.”

“A harsh tone isn’t needed. I’m simply looking out for you.”

“I wasn’t harsh.”

He cleared his throat, sliding directly across from me. Sitting with a straight posture, a sense of elegance faintly waved. His chest puffed out with tremendous confidence. He was never too shy to express the body he created.

He opened his mouth ever so gently. “Is something bothering you?”

What a strange question.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shook his head once. “You seem off as of late. Are you getting enough sleep?”

“I’m fine.”

I shouldn’t be here.

“You can tell me if something is wrong. I may be unable to fix the problem, but I’ll provide the guidance to scrape the gloom off.”

Did he miss the hint with my dismissive answers?

“Randy. I promise you. I’m fine.”

His eyes flashed up and down.

“Your veins will burst if you grip that dagger any tighter.”

I dropped my weapon and forced a smile—a fake smile with not a hint of genuineness.

“Better?”

He sighed. “Being agitated isn’t going to help. Whatever you are struggling with, a boiling mind is not the lens to use.”

I didn’t want a philosophy lesson, and I also didn’t want to leave. To counter my laziness, I gave him the cold shoulder.

There was no reason for him to stay. He should’ve been with the others, training. Instead, he’s with me. I didn’t mind the company, but there were more important things to tend to. The others could use a voice of motivation. Randy was perfect for that. So why did he stick to my side?

I growled, slamming my fist onto the wood. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh? Is that the cause for the attitude?”

“Say what you want. I shouldn't be here. I should be with them in case things go south. I should be there to protect them. Instead, I’m stuck here doing nothing.”

“Is protecting your home doing nothing?”

“Tsk. An attack isn’t guaranteed. So far, what we’ve been doing is useless.” I swayed my head low. “I regret not being stubborn.”

“You can regret. You can dwell on what you didn’t do. Is that going to change where you are now? I don’t think so. Erase the negativity and find peace on the other side.”

“I’m not thinking negatively,” I said.

“You’re living in a world where you went with them rather than staying behind. It’s your ideal scenario that didn’t occur. Instead of wishing you were somewhere else, embrace where you are now. Your job is to protect the home of the Bariac Cult: our belongings, our tents, the memories stored in our heads, the bonfire. You are protecting what we have. It’s equally as important for those with Ruby, who are protecting who we are.”

I wanted to kick back and slouch on the seat. Why couldn’t this seat have back support?

“You can say whatever you want. My views will remain the same,” I said while looking at the clouds. Some were oddly shaped, which made me scoff internally.

“It is in your best interest. Whether you want to listen is up to you.” He pushed himself up, his hands digging into the wood. “I’ll send a few comrades your way. Perhaps they could sprinkle some life.”

I groaned, refusing his offer.

Minutes later, two people pranced over to me. I mumbled in annoyance, pretending I didn’t notice them.

“Hey there, Jill,” one of them said.

I dabbled with my blade, returning a mundane greeting.

“Randy sent us here saying you’ll spar with us. Rox and I are ready to take you on.”

“N-No. I-I-I don’t w-want to.”

“Listen, Rox. You have no choice. Besides, it’ll be fun. Right, Jill?”

I nodded with a dull attitude.

Jordan and Rox were similar in height and weight—definitely around the same age. They looked identical to each other but weren’t related. Yet again, plenty of people had short, messy black hair.

I’d conversed with them a few times, but nothing serious. I’d never raided nor spared them since they were a squad below. Fighting weaklings wouldn’t do me any good.

From what I'd observed, Jordan was extroverted and had a genuine personality. He always put his arms around Rox’s shoulders when speaking. I found it odd, but I guess Rox never cared. Rox was more on the shy side. He curled himself in, never opening up. He constantly spoke with a nervous stutter. It could be anyone; he would always talk like a child in the wrong.

“C’mon Jill, let’s get to fighting.”

He pulled his sword and held it so the tip faced downward across his chest. It was a weird way to wield a sword, but I didn’t verbally judge.

“I-I-I-I will s-sit down.”

“No, Rox, you won’t. We’re two v one—ing.”

“N-No. Pl-Pl-Please no. I will s-s-s-sit.”

Jordan growled. “Fine. Witness me bury my opponent on another planet.”

That didn’t even make sense, I thought with an inner scoff.

I kicked myself up and stood before Jordan, his sword pointing straight at my face.

“You’re unarmed,” he said.

“I know.”

He took a step back. “I don’t want to fight an unarmed person. Please grab your dagger.”

I refused despite his formality.

“Believe me when I say this: sparing me has already put you at a disadvantage. I’m giving you a fighting chance. If I pick up a weapon, your odds are none.”

“Love the cockiness. But how about more fighting and less talking!”

He charged like a raging bull with his sword pointing straight.

I didn’t want to be a part of this. Why couldn’t I sit in peace? Why send two nutjobs my way? Curse you, Randy. He was due for a talk after.

Jill effortlessly dodged to the side. Jordan’s momentum was far too strong to stop. He stumbled and fell onto the grass, dropping his blade in the process.

“This is too much of a time-waster. Excuse me while I lock myself in my tent.”

“Who says we’re done?” he asked, getting up and retrieving his blade. “It’s not over until it’s over.”

Great…

I sighed, my hand waved in a shooing motion. “I don’t want any part of this.”

Jordan pleaded his case as to why they should spar. Whatever he said went through one ear and out the other. Sparing someone inferior would do me no good. Besides, I didn’t wish to waste energy on useless sparring sessions.

“Whatever you say.” My voice was duller than a worn-down wooden knife. “I’m going to—”

I stopped. Not because of what I was going to say. Not because of what went through my head.

A barbaric yell echoed across the camp, sounded by an unknown voice. It couldn’t be anyone I knew; no one sounded like a savage beast.

And then came something gut-wrenching—a blood-curdling cry. I could almost hear bones crack in two.

Without saying a word, I dashed towards the noise. Nothing went through her mind. It was empty, like a vacant apartment. The only thing on my mind was questioning the situation. Who could it be? Was it a comrade? An enemy? Who's desperate cry was it, and whose ravening voice echoed across?

The question was answered when my eyes came across a group of people—about six or seven of them. They wore mismatched clothing as though they had no care. Surrounded by a group of smaller fries was a burly man with veins popping out of his forearms. He was bigger than the others and may be bigger than Randy.

Speaking of Randy, he stood a few meters to the left with his sword in a defense stance. Next to Randy was something that almost made me puke. It reminded me of what happened in the halls when I was imprisoned.

Randy’s shoes were soaked in the sea of blood. A body torn in half—his torso ripped away from his legs. I couldn’t tell who it was, but I knew it was a comrade.

“That was too easy. Is there no competition here,” the burly man said.

I quickly put on my eyepatch.

“You want competition? I’m right here.”

“Competition? A girl with a crippled eye? Don't make me laugh.”

“There is nothing comical about the truth. When I impale your head through my dagger, you won’t be the one laughing.”

“Are you seriously threatening to take me on? Me, Diego, power of God himself! Ignorant little shit. This will be the end of the road for you.” He drew a normal-sized sword.

“Randy, you and the others get his subordinates. I got the big guy.”

“Taking me on alone? You must seek death to challenge someone with the power of God!”

I smirked. “Power of God? I assure you, you haven’t seen what someone with that power is capable of doing.”