Rise Of Pandora

Rise Of Pandora: XXXI. A Storm Himself

"Race does not determine your power, your mindset does. If you believe you are a ruler, then that is what you are. If you think of every footstep as an unruly magnitude, then prepare for the earthquake. So, surely, if you believe this whole world is yours, then by all means, do as you please."

-Alareiks Menhara

XIV. Poet

A faint and internal thunder ruptured the young king's unhinging heart. Suddenly, the faint pink that expanded far in the horizon was no longer there. Instead, numbing darkness befell the land. He faced the sky and beheld an immeasurable quantity of small figures which appeared from nothing, blotting out the little sunlight that shone. Even at this distance, he recognized that these were arrows like the previous. That numbing sensation enveloped Baccus and festered throughout his mind, leaving that feeling of helplessness again to assail his mind. The man suddenly turned around and began fleeting in the direction where Gaijin fled to. 

As the darkness solidified overhead, the eye sockets of his mask became overwhelmed by a red light which covered his teary eyes. This was a property of the mask which would allow Baccus to see in dark settings. He made full advantage of this quality and quickly ran his fingers on one of the sheaths which were attached to the belt on his waist and removed one jagged dagger while giving pursuit. It was the same yellow-tinted dagger he used to immobilize Maddard hours earlier. 

He raised it to eye level and aimed carefully as he pursued his fleeing foe. He steadied his arms, focused his eyes, and breathed calmly, but there was still a bit of shakiness in his legs and wrists which defied his wishes. With his strength gleaned in his arm, he aimed for the back of the man's head and threw the dagger with such astuteness. To his intent, the dagger traveled quickly and fatally in the path that he desired, straight as an arrow. However, it did not make it to the man's head. Instead, he whirled his body around suddenly and captured the darting blade in his hand. Baccus's eyes stretched apart in astonishment. 

Just who the hell am I fighting? He pondered uneasily, beads of sweat trickling to his chest. How could he have possibly been able to know that I threw the dagger, let alone catch it? How did he even see it?  He was taken by surprise and was truly in awe of his foe's awe-provoking abilities. 

Suddenly, the man, while still facing Baccus, lifted up his bow and aimed for him, which forced the young king to instantly leap out of the way. Lying on the cold floor, he glanced up and noticed that the man did not shoot off more arrows. He was both shocked and relieved.

Just then, he began to contemplate deeply. He remarked back during his first confrontation with him, that whenever he shot more arrows, the arrows which were previously out would disintegrate into little black particles. He found it strange but never fully acknowledged it until now as he lied still on the cold snow. So he reflected and formulated two ideas all while recovering off of the ground. He understood two things at this juncture: either force the man to shoot out more arrows at him so the arrows overhead would, in theory, vanish altogether. 

But, if that were to fail, then he would be forced to become relentless and kill the man, hopefully ending the arrows from falling down on him in time. And if by chance he did kill him and the arrows remained, then he would have to take shelter under that strong, resilient body of his. Suddenly, he thought of a new idea, perhaps if I broke his bow the arrows would disappear, too...

He seemed fairly confident in those ideas, feeling he could possibly survive this dreadful circumstance. The thought of being torn by the storm of arrows again left a sour taste on his tongue and heart. He immediately began running faster. He was becoming aggravated. He feared he would not reach him in time. But, he refused to stop. As weary and as beaten as he was and felt, he did not stop.