Okay, I know I haven't updated this story in like, two years, but I hope there are people still interested in it. xD Sooo...sorry for the huge delay. Here's the next chapter.
Metal hit metal with a screeching sound; Aerrow could see the blade of his dagger slip down the length of his arch enemy's sword until it hit the guard. The double blade came dangerously close to his face, threatening cut into him. He jumped backwards, avoiding Dark Ace's furious slash. Never in his life had he feel so angry; he fumed at the very sight of the man that not only that betrayed his father and contributed to his death, but also now kidnapped and hurt the person he loved more than he loved himself.
That man must die.
Lunging forward, he slashed blindly at the man in front of him, but in his rage, he didn't realize he was being quite predictable. Dark Ace avoided all of his attempts to harm him. Smirking, he brought his sword up, barely missing Aerrow's torso, who pulled back astounded. It could have been a critical hit. He wasn't the only one that seek to get rid of their enemy forever. Dark Ace was aiming to kill him.
He tried calculating his moves, but it was hard to even think while seeing the older man's smirk mocking him. He'd taken something away from Aerrow and he enjoyed it to the fullest. The redhead gritted his teeth, gripping the daggers harder.
"Aren't you gonna attack me?" He taunted; he knew he could trick the hot-headed Sky Knight into making a wrong move. And then...off with his head. He smiled to himself. He moved the sword from his right hand to his left, almost nonchalantly. "I thought you were set on not letting me see another sunrise." Aerrow's grip on his dagger tightened to the point where his knuckles became white under his gloves. "Or are you too weak to kill me?"
Without a second thought, Aerrow lunged forward once again. The tip of his blade caught the Cyclonian's shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the red flash; he had time to scramble away just enough so the blade won't sink too deep into his side. It still hurt like hell, though. Wincing, he dropped a dagger and he brought his hand to the cut, staining it ruby red. The same ruby red that flowed down the Cyclonian's shoulder. The amused, bashing expression on his face was gone.
Aerrow barely managed to avoid the furious attack; the double bladed sword hit the floor with a dull sound. The wound was slowing him down; he exhaled harshly through his mouth, nearly doubling over. If the bleeding didn't stop, things weren't going to last too long. He cursed. Fury had blinded him when he was supposed to be rational. He wasn't going to give up though. He wouldn't disappoint Piper. He wouldn't let that man get away with what he's done to Piper.
Thinking of Piper seemed to give him strength. He ducked the slash that would've cut his head clean off; the dagger he dropped was now across the room. He curled his hand and sank his fist as hard as his weaker left arm allowed him, right between the Cyclonian's ribs. He didn't have time to enjoy the moment as the older man's forearm crashed into his face. He couldn't control his fall and he slammed into the floor, hitting the back of his head in the process. The room suddenly became fuzzy and a warm stream was slowly flowing down his face. He couldn't feel his nose nor his lips.
He heard a cough.
He rolled on his unharmed side; blood dripped everywhere. At this rate, he wouldn't have a drop left in his body. What a ridiculous way to die.
The coughing stopped. He wondered, why did he punch him? Why didn't he just try to stab him with the energy dagger he still clutched in his right arm. Maybe Dark Ace was right. Maybe he was too weak to kill him.
He laid his head on the floor, letting the cold numb the pain he felt in his entire body.
"I'm sorry, Piper."
"What do you mean you don't remember how you got here?" Finn slumped to the floor, trying to make himself as small as possible.
"Well, I've been chased around those halls by a bunch of Talons who wanted to kick my ass, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going." He protested, watching Radarr try to sniff their way out. The sky monkey's ears fell slightly, then he completely froze.
Piper was the first to notice his stillness. "Radarr, what's wrong?" The furred creature stared idly, still not moving. Finn's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but just as he opened his mouth to voice it, Radarr sprinted along the poorly lit corridor, taking both of them by surprise.
"Radarr, wait!" Piper shouted, running after him.
Finn joined him half-heartedly. "What's gotten into him?"
He received a shrug for answer. Radarr kept running and running, unresponsive to Finn and Piper's shouts. He's felt it, unmistakably. Something had happened to Aerrow.
His left cheek had gone numb with coldness, as opposed to the rest of his face, which burned. The sound of footsteps got closer and when they stopped, someone jerked him off the floor by his arm. Blood had seeped out of his opponent's wounded shoulder and dripped down his arm. His red eyes bore holes into his, so intensely he had to avert his eyes.
"You are so much like your father." Anger rushed through Aerrow. How dare he mention his father, the man he was supposed to be loyal to. The man who was supposed to be his friend.
"Don't talk about my father." he snapped, less fiercely that he intended to. The Dark Ace's grin widened, and his grip on Aerrow's arm got tighter. The boy struggled, but the blood loss weakened him severely. He watched the older man raise his sword above his head, wincing as he forced his wounded shoulder. He felt sick at his stomach.
"You will have the same fate as him." A skimmer plummeting towards the fiery Wastelands invaded Aerrow's mind, along with the disturbing image of his own beheaded body. He will die by the hands of the same man that murdered his father. Fate has a cruel sense of humor.
Just as he braced himself, something unexpected happened. A blur of blue crashed into the side of Dark Ace's head with a screech, sending him sprawling several meters away. Taken by surprise and no longer held up by a force, Aerrow fell backwards. The gash on his side throbbed painfully, and his vision got dizzier and dizzier. He could see two silhouettes running towards him; his eyes fixed on the slimmer, more feminine one. It looked so familiar and his heart jumped in his throat.
He was losing grip on reality. His vision went back before any of the silhouettes could reach him.