MARICAYANA: The Beginning [ONC 2021]

9: PAIN & RELIEF

Rustling of butchered grass had been her only cue.

Wening barely ducked when the ominous zing came rushing from behind. She held her breath, eyes squeezing shut. A fraction of beat passed then something collided with the back of her head. Hard.

In an instant, the force knocked the breath out of her lungs and sent Wening sprawling on the dewy grass. For a random second, Wening couldn't understand why she was seeing stars in the morning. With her eyes closed, too. And when those orbs did finally open, Wening got even more confused, because she could very much see the pale morning sky and a half-razed grassland and, 'How the hell have I not joined Father in an afterlife party already?'

Wening ran a tentative hand on the back of her aching head. A lump had begun to grow there. It was, however, not nearly as big as she had originally thought, most likely thanks to the destar knot softening the blow.

'Definitely still better than a bloody cleaved skull,' Wening half-grimaced, half-chuckled in near death hysteria. Piles of chopped grass around and on top of her were evident enough of how badly everything could have ended up.

Only when her racing heart started to calm down, it finally dawned on Wening. The reason her head hadn't joined the grassy piles was probably due to something solid prematurely sabotaging the invisible knife's trajectory. Right before the blow could sever her neck from the rest of her body.

With startling clarity, Wening reached for Father's keris strapped on her back. Her eyes broadened to find the fabric she bundled it up with had been torn to shred. The dagger and its sheath, however, remained untouched. Somehow.

Wening swallowed. Only Father would still manage to save her even from beyond the grave.

As Wening trailed reverent fingers at the keris's ivory hilt and sheath, another revelation dawned on her. Perhaps the time had finally come for her to wield it. And if the stranger Kelana Klawu was currently dueling with was indeed involved in Father's murder...

Wening brought up her head just in time to see Kelana Klawu chase his taller opponent to the side of the lake. Finally caught up on a simple bamboo dock, Kelana Klawu swung his blood stained fabric like a lasso, wound it up around his opponent's forearm and jerked it in his direction.

The indigo-clad pendekar bared his teeth with every effort to resist, his wild shoulder-length hair swinging with every movement. But the force of the pull was relentless and the taller guy had no leverage to hold on to.

He stumbled backwards, just in time for Kelana Klawu to shoot out his hand, aiming for the veil covering the taller man's face. The indigo pendekar managed to contort his body at the last moment, avoiding his pursuer's claw by a fraction. Kelana Klawu twisted his wrist, changing its course. He grabbed the other's back collar instead and yanked hard.

Between that and the fabric secured around his arm, momentum wrenched the indigo pendekar from his footing. As he swayed backwards, the taller man slipped his free hand into the fold of his chest. In a blink of an eye, he whirled around. A flash of silver. A sound of fabric ripping. Kelana Klawu released his hold in both fronts as he recoiled. A sharp glint of metal just a hair breadth away from slicing his rattan adorned wrist.

Wening watched as the gray-clad pendekar quickly recovered his stance. Without a farmer's hat obscuring the view, the man's visage was now clear for her to see. There was fierce determination written on the deep frown between his brows, on a set of strengthened jaws, and on the downturn of his lips. What threw her off balance, however, was a shade of desperation and... was that remorse clouding his steely gaze?