She searched nervously for something to defend herself with but could find nothing. This was the end. She stared at the warrior, who seemed completely remorseless. She looked into his eyes and spoke,

“Make it quick…”

She closed her eyes and waited for the cold, icy grip of the hand of death. But it never came. She opened one eye to see that the combatant had sheathed his sword. He spoke in a notably dark, deep voice.

“Rise. It is you who has been seen alongside Marek, is it not?”

            “How do you know Marek?”

            “We go way back. Show me where he is.”

            “Aren’t you going to give me an explanation?”

            “Look, I have been searching for Marek for a long time. I wove my way into a guild of thieves who had heard of him. I found out that you have been seen with him so I found you. I need to see Marek, don’t detain me more than is needed. Now go.”

            Reluctantly, she agrees to take him and as she tried to retrace her steps, noticing that he stared at the city like a tourist. She assumed that he came from a distant land and, by the look on his face, a quiet one.

            She finally saw the sign for Old Town, which came as quite a surprise considering she was just as lost in this city as the stranger. Just as she saw it, an echo reverberated in her head. It was Marek’s voice, “…if I were a spy, you would’ve been dead by now…” She immediately froze and turned to face the man. He simply stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

            “I didn’t exactly catch your name while I was quivering in fear. Could you please enlighten me?”

            “My name is Artelk…I am a knight.”

            “Of what order?”

            “A long dead order, which I still uphold.”

            The déjà vu hit like the flat of a blade. She felt something rise inside that made her run to the fruit stall. When she arrived with Artelk behind her, Marek slid out of the hidden passage behind the store.

            Seeing that Emelia brought along another, Marek pulled Emelia aside and was inclined to ask, “What are you doing? Brining a stranger to this place. Showing them our hide out. He could be a spy!”

“Wait! This man says he’s Artelk. Isn’t that the name of your long dead friend?”

“That man? Are you sure? IT CAN’T BE! I SEARCHED FOR YEARS!”

“My friend…” The stranger looked Marek in the face. “The answer is…time.”

“My friend…” Marek was struggling to hold back the emotions. Through all of the emotional training he seen and done, this was the most challenging.

Emelia stared aimlessly at them. “Err, can someone tell me what’s going on? Please?”

“Emelia…Meet Artelk Rameen. My long ‘dead’ friend. Follow me my friend.” Marek took the two back down the market stall to the little hidden room. Everyone settled in his or her place. Marek made three drinks of some slime that could resemble a pale ale, but couldn’t actually fall into the category of drinkable.

The two men erupted into a conversation about all the things that had happened between the two. Emelia however was getting progressively more annoyed with being ignored… “excuse me…Excuse me…EXCUSE ME…” Her voice never even covered the decibel level of the chatting warriors. She finally lost her temper.

“HEY! When I say listen, you listen OK!” It was the only time she had ever had to shout, but it got the result. Both men abruptly stopped talking and shifted back slightly.

Now, in a lower, more hushed tone of voice, she said, “I am all for emotional experiences but don’t we have an emperor to kill?” with which she unraveled a large scroll with floor plans of the RM building in warrior town…

She began the lecture by informing the men that the Emperor was coming to inspect the current status of the RM troops for reasons unknown. She speculated that it was because this city was notable for rebel factions and maybe he wanted to make sure that this town was well secure.

She carefully told them of the plan and, as they listened, a second shadow appeared in the room. None of the rebels noticed this shadow, but it moved as if it had life. As the warriors kept on talking, the shadow drifted down the corridor and out of the fruit stand. It finally settled to rest on a wall round the corner from the fruit stand, in a darkish alley. From the shadow on the wall, a tall man with broad shoulders and huge metallic armour stepped out as if the shadow was a portal, his head being completely night black and two red eyes staring.

“Hmm. So that’s what they’re planning. It’ll never work…with a little help from me. Marek…I knew I should have killed you back then…” The sly tall figure disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

Back inside, the plan had been discussed but Emelia knew that Marek’s attention was not on the plan but on the thought of fighting with Artelk again.

Marek stood and stretched. “So, how long until we start?”

Emelia took a sip from her drink which was apparently fresh fruit juice and calmly replied, “A few months, I’d say.”

“A FEW MONTHS!!! I though this was a skirmish strategy not a battle plan!”

“It is a skirmish strategy.”

“Well what the hell are we waiting for?”

Artelk burst in and, to Emelia’s surprise, he took her side. “Marek. We need time to train and prepare. If we simply rush in, we’ll be overwhelmed for sure.”

“DAMN…ok.” and with his reluctant agreement, the warriors left to find some hot nourishment. Marek took them to a nice little café in a part of town branded ‘Greed Town’ by the poor.

In this area, purses and gold were exchanged faster than thought. One man’s gold may be on his person, then a moment later, across the city. Everyone carried some form of ‘protection’ in this area. Shopkeeper spun tales of the quality of their wares and how theirs were far superior to their competitors. The better dressed you were, the bigger a target you were. If you happen to be wearing silken robes and a jingle could be heard in your step, your life expectancy would be mere moments.

“Here it is.” Marek entered the shanty but quaint place. The large chef gave Marek a glance, which was common to frequent customers. Marek replied, “Three ‘o’ the usual”. A slight nod of confirmation and the Three settled down. Marek began,

“How the hell did you survive?! I was certain you were dead!! No one could have survived that kind of trauma!!”

A smile crossed Artelk’s face. “It’s very easy to get lost in the crowd…” Marek’s face showed a little bemusement at such a comment, but he accepted that it was probably a time that Artelk wanted to forget.

“So, Marek, What happened to the master? What have you been doing since our departure?” Artelk’s face had the telltale sign of inquisitivity on his face.

“Well… Ah… The food…” Artelk could see that Marek was dodging the subject, but it had always been this way. As warriors, they were taught by their master to not linger on the past, or contemplate the future. They were taught to live for the ‘here and now’. As their master would say, ‘Living in the past makes you old and feeble. Living in the future makes you young and immature. Be men and live in the present.’

Marek was completely correct. The food had arrived. The others, however, did not have the same look of anticipation that Marek had. This was because the food smelt atrocious. Just its overpowering pungent odour was strong enough to strip the hairs from the lining of the nose. It resembled a stomach, bathed in mud and deep-fried. Artelk gave a little look of disbelieve towards Marek as be ravaged the piece and took thorough bites out of it. Emelia left abruptly and made her way to the door labeled ‘GIRLZ’… After a second of entry, she made her way out of the café and disappeared around the corner, where many gurgling and splashing sounds were heard. Artelk called upon Marek’s attention,

“What is that vile looking thing?”

“*splursh-shlop* It’sh cowsh shtomach shtuffed wiv vegetablesh.”

“How the hell can you eat that?”

Marek cleared his mouth. “Try it. You might like it.”

Artelk’s trust in Marek was vast and strong, but maybe this was pushing it too far. Still, holding his nose and closing his eyes, he took a bite… Strange, he didn’t feel ill, and it had the most peculiar, but enjoyable taste. He opened his eyes and expressed his enjoyment.

“See. I told you.” However, they had both missed the fact that Emelia had just entered and seen them gorging on the sickly looking dish. Her face turned green and a swift exit was made.

After finishing the meal, one portion untouched, they returned to the secluded square in which Emelia had first encountered Artelk. As Artelk swung his blade, ready for some one-on-one training with Marek, Emelia pulled Marek aside to ask him a question.

“Back at the stall, how could you kill that man so brutally?”

Marek’s face showed no remorse or guilt. “All those who volunteer for the RM are fools and deserve to die.” Quickly checking his surroundings, he spoke in a hushed tone, “Do you think we will overthrow the empire by talking or granting mercy? There will be bloodshed. I was just giving a sample of what is to come.”

Emelia found the words cold and cruel, but true. She accepted it and Marek took his position.

Emelia spoke out of place, “How is he supposed to fight you without a weapon?”

Both men looked at each other for a second… then began laughing heartily.

“What?! What’s so funny?”

Artelk replied to the amusing question, “Marek was the son of the master. He was taught the art of the spirit blade.”

“What’s that?” said Emelia in confusion.

Marek spoke, “You will see if you stop talking…”

Emelia silenced herself reluctantly. With this, Marek took a deep breath and raised his right arm to shoulder level, which began to spark with what seemed to be blue orbs of light. The orbs grew in number until they began to join in front of his fist. The connection took a few moments, but when it had finished, a blade created entirely of a blue hue protruded from Marek’s hand like that of a long sword.

“You ready?” “I’m ready. Are you?” A grin appeared on their faces, followed by a swift movement towards each other in which both blades collided, creating spark that dispersed as bright lighting. The blades moved in motions that seemed so smooth and almost impossible to do, let alone replicate. Marek’s face showed intensity that Emelia had never seen before. Their movements entranced her. But she felt that even though Marek’s expression said he was exerting more force, it seemed Artelk was being beaten back by Marek’s skill. Artelk gasped, “Damn! Slow down!” Both men stopped the bout.

“What’s wrong? You fought much harder than this before.” said Marek, expecting a more forceful battle from Artelk.

“I haven’t been training like you have, had I? I have had to learn theft and trickery in order to find you.” Artelk showed how tired he was, and so, Marek placed his left hand on his right shoulder as he turned to Emelia. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you back to your usual self in no time. Emelia. EMELIA!” Emelia had been dazed by their performance. A rude awakening brought her round.

“Yeah. What?” “Where were you?” said Marek with a tone of sarcasm. “I was just amazed at your speed.” “Get used to it. You’ll see a lot more of it.” Artelk grinned. Marek may have changed in appearance, but his confidence hadn’t changed a bit.

Time past and months of battle raged on, training themselves for the encounter with the emperor. Emelia grew in skill so much that, now, even she was a good rival against either of the men. Their battles became more intense, making their speed and strength a major competition for even the most skilled of any fighter. After a particularly fierce training bout, night fell, and so they departed their square which they had used as a training ground.

The three returned to cove in which, the stall owner thanked them for protecting the honour of his goods once again. Marek waved it off. For his friends, he would do anything. As they returned to the depths of the room, Artelk held Marek and Emelia back. “Wait. I smell something.” Emelia giggled, “Probably your sweat.” “Silence…” Artelk was content that there was another presence. Marek whispered, “Emelia, stay here.” The two warriors proceeded to the room with a step of caution. Marek knew Artelk had keen senses and they were never wrong, but as they stepped into the candle lit room, there was no apparent other being. The caution subsided and they relaxed a bit, calling for Emelia. But as they did, two flaming balls of fire burst from the wall behind them, throwing them to the ground in flaming pain. Artelk passed out, but before Marek did, he caught sight of the figure stepping from the shadow in the wall. The dark armoured figure knelt over him, red eyes piercing the very depths of his soul. In a voice that could resemble the command of god, he spoke, “I haven’t finished with you, but I have other… pressing… matters to attend to.” Marek’s vision went blurry and he fell into a deep sleep.

Emelia burst into the room. Seeing the figure and both men on the ground, fear struck her and she began to run, but as she turned to exit, she was greeted by the sight of the dark armour which grabbed her by the waist and disappeared into the wall from which it had came, the only thing left behind, being the echoes of Marek’s name…