A/N: So, this will be a bit confusing. This is Part 1 of a series I've called 'Histories'. Part 2 is the sequel but Part 3 actually happens before both of the others. Well, anyway, I just recently finished half-yearly exams and work experience, so now I have more time to write fanfiction! And without further ado, I hope you enjoy this drabble series.
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How does that insufferable brat find me every time? I wondered angrily as I dodged the blue bolts of energy that were falling all around me. It's not like I'm doing anything particularly bad at the moment. It's just some recon. Narrowly avoiding two shots by flipping my switchblade, I swooped out of a dive only to be struck in the engine. "Okay, that's bad," I muttered, wrestling with the controls as I began a steady decent.
By the time I crashed into the terra, I had at least levelled out my bike enough that I wouldn't plough straight into the dirt. Regardless, I was nearly thrown off several times, and slowly, shuddering, I came to a rest at the mouth of a small cave.
Tires screeched as Aerrow touched down behind me. Quickly, I grabbed for my sword and activated it, red light washing around my hands. He did a silly little flip off his skimmer before landing, daggers blazing blue.
Not waiting for him to make the first move, I charged, a wide sweep upwards, followed by a quick crosshatched slash. He barely had time to block the initial strikes before I was upon him again. Heavy blows fell around his head, several of them almost making contact. About time I got the upper hand fighting Aerrow, I thought.
Both hands gripped firmly on my blade, I lifted it high then swung down fast enough that he had no opportunity to break through. He quickly thrusted his blades up in an x-shape.
Struggling to push back against my blade, sweat started to form in a thin sheen on his forehead. He suddenly shoved me back, sending me reeling. Whirling to face me again, he snarled. "I would stab you through the heart, Dark Ace, but you don't have one." Roaring, I launched myself at him, knocking the daggers from his hands and far from his reach. I swung my blade under his chin, backing him into the corner of the small cave.
"Nowhere to run now," I leered over him, dwarfing his left side in my shadow.
He tilted his head towards me, squinting slightly against the sun. "I'm not afraid of you."
I gave a low chuckle. "You should be. No mercy, Aerrow."
Somehow standing proud under the blade, his gaze was level and devoid of fear. Anger, determination and hatred burned there instead, a steady green inferno. He stood there, defiant in the face of death, the embodiment of all that I had betrayed and lost. And those eyes... I had never seen them in the light before, only ever in shadow or under a sky filled with clouds. Now, seeing them properly, I realised they were the same as those of another, someone who I held dear and had died because of me. And now, for them to live again in this – this child in front of me, was too much to bear.
"Ardea..." The name escaped my lips, and slowly, I lowered my sword.
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0_o spell-check says that 'thrusted' isn't a word. I'm officially weirded (apparently not a word either!) out.
So anyway, what'd you think? Loved it? Hated it? Think I should be shot for desecrating this site? Just let me know by pushing the button just down there. Do it. Now. Please?