Kyen froze, riveted in place by Ennyen’s glare as he blocked the exit.
Neither swordsman moved as they faced each other: Ennyen, built of taut muscle and sinew, put a hand on his hilt; Kyen, looking scrawny and underfed in comparison, shifted one foot back. Lightning flashed overhead. It gleamed off of Ennyen’s burnished breastplate and illuminated all the patches on Kyen’s linen armor vest.
“Kyen, son of Odyen, of the House of Crossblade,” he said. “So you did survive.”
“Ennyen. Ennyen, wait!” Kyen backed deeper into the alley.
Stepping forward, Ennyen drew his blade—a longsword—but it lacked the glint of metal; its length was a dull black as if made from obsidian.
“Where did you get that?” Kyen’s eyes widened. “You shouldn’t use that. That’s a black w—”
Ennyen rushed him. Like lightning, his sword flashed out, and Kyen ducked. He scrambled back, dodging up, down, back and forth as the blade whipped and stabbed the air around him. Black sparks flew as the blade clipped the walls of the alley on either side.
Kyen jumped backwards out of range, but Ennyen walked after him. Behind, a darkness began spreading like ink on the sides of the ally. It covered the bricks that’d been scraped, swallowing them whole out of the mortar before vanishing.
The back of the ally neared as Ennyen raised his blade, pushing Kyen towards the dead end.
“Draw your sword,” he said in a voice as cold as his eyes. “Kyen, son of Odyen.”
“I’m not going to fight you.” Kyen’s back hit a pole holding up the stable’s roof.
Ennyen struck, slashing out, but Kyen ducked, the sword whistling over his head. He dodged away as the blade cleaved through the pole behind him. The stable roof caved with a crash and billow of dust at Ennyen’s feet. Unperturbed, he turned to meet Kyen lunging at him. He swiped at Kyen’s face with the pommel of his hilt, but the blow just grazed him as he leaned out of the way. Kyen threw himself into the opening, seizing Ennyen’s hilt with both hands.
The two swordsmen grappled for control of the blade. Ennyen slung Kyen sideways and slammed his back into the wall. Kyen grunted, but clung to the hilt, wrenched at it. Ennyen held on with a grip like iron. He jerked Kyen forwards only to slam him back into the wall harder, knocking a gasp of breath out of him and banging the back of his head against the stone. Kyen’s footing slipped, and he slid down the wall as Ennyen pressed him down, down, until he was nearly sitting on the ground.
With a great wrench backwards, Ennyen freed his sword and stabbed. Kyen leaned sideways, the blade plunging into the ground beside him. Bracing himself against the wall, Kyen kicked up with both feet into Ennyen’s midsection. His hands slipped off the hilt of the black blade as he stumbled backwards and caught himself.
Kyen launched himself up and tried to tackle him, but Ennyen grabbed him by the tunic and slung him past—straight into the opposite wall. Kyen smacked up against the brick, catching himself with his hands. Before he could turn, Ennyen was upon him. He seized his collar in one hand and pummeled him in the face with his fist. Kyen sagged under the blow. He struggled to recover, only to meet Ennyen’s fist smacking him across the face again. Ennyen drove his knee into Kyen’s stomach then slung him into the ground. He hit the dirt in a heap. Coughing and clutching his guts, he curled up on himself.
Ennyen turned away. He grasped his sword and pulled it free.
Kyen struggled to his hands and knees.
“Kyen!” A call rang out. Adeya had appeared at the mouth of the alley.
“Don’t—” he croaked.
Steel sang as she drew her sword and charged in.
Ennyen turned towards her and eyed her as she lashed out. He leaned out of the way, grabbed her sword wrist, and stepped behind her, wrenching her arm inwards as he went. She gasped, arching in pain. Ennyen twisted harder until she stood, immobilized, on tiptoes, back arced, her shoulder on the brink of dislocation. Her sword hung useless in her hand behind her back.
Lightning flickered overhead.
Ennyen surveyed Adeya for a moment then smiled. He flipped his blade backhand and raised the point to her throat. His dark eyes shifted to Kyen.
“Draw your sword.”
Adeya whimpered in pain as he tightened his hold even more.
Kyen rose to a crouch, holding to the wall with one hand. He glared at Ennyen. For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered a blazing gold.
With an explosive flash, lightning struck the rooftop, spraying down stones and roof debris, as a bang of thunder jolted through them.
Ennyen released Adeya to press himself to the wall under the cover of the eaves.
Adeya staggered away from him, covering her head.
“Run!” Kyen yelled.
“But—”
“Go!”
Adeya bolted from the alley and vanished around the corner.
Ennyen hefted his sword as Kyen straightened, but instead of drawing his own, Kyen lunged past him. He covered his head and threw himself into one of the inn’s windows. Glass crashed as he burst into the empty kitchen. Scrambling to his feet, he fled towards the common room. Ennyen jumped in after him.
The few patrons left in the common room looked up in surprise as the two swordsmen banged out the kitchen door. Seeing the black blade in Ennyen’s hand, those nearest abandoned their mugs and fled. The innkeeper ducked behind his bar. Two others edged around the room to escape upstairs.
Kyen, turning to face Ennyen, moved to keep several tables between them. But the other swordsman circled in, throwing chairs out of his way, moving to block the exit.
“You were always a spineless throwback, Kyen,” he said. “When did you become a coward, also? Draw your sword and fight.”
“I won’t fight you, Ennyen,” said Kyen. “Can’t we talk about this?”
“Speak with your blade!” He lunged with a swing of his sword. Kyen upturned the table to block him. The black sword cleaved through the wood like butter, the blade nearly catching Kyen’s nose before he jumped back.
Snatching up first one tankard then another, Kyen hurled them. Ennyen cut the first out of the air only to get sprayed with ale. With a look of disgust, he leaned out of the way of the second. Kyen seized a chair and slung it at him. Ennyen cut it down, but he missed the third tankard Kyen chucked right behind it. It shattered on his knee. He faltered a step.
Kyen flung a last table out of his way and sped out the door.
Cursing, jerking his sword free of the chair, and shoving aside a table, Ennyen walked after him. He watched, not even out of breath, as the retreating shape of Kyen fled down the street.
The innkeeper inched his head up to peek above the bar but ducked back quick when Ennyen looked at him.
A pouch of coin plunked onto the counter.
“My apologies for the damages,” said Ennyen.
The innkeeper only dared raise his head again as Ennyen’s footsteps thudded out the door.
Striding out into the muddy street, Ennyen caught the last glimpse of Kyen, meeting Adeya, before they both disappeared down an alley.
The black, faceless bird fluttered down, alighting on the hitching post next to him. He glanced at it, and the bird cocked its head at him. Distant lightning flickered; the flash illuminated the bird’s gaping, toothy grin.
Ennyen nodded.
The bird chortled—three sinking tones—and flapped into the air. Ennyen sheathed his sword as he watched it soar into the clouds over the alley where Kyen had vanished.