"Draw your other sword!" Zhihao's voice was barely a whisper, certainly not enough to reach the woman. It was almost as though she had forgotten she was carrying two blades. "Draw your other sword, damn you!" But still the woman just stood with Flaming Fist bearing down on her, one hand still ablaze.
"She won't," the boy said sadly. "Whispering Blade never once drew her second sword."
Zhihao looked down at him then. The boy was about to watch one of his champions killed, likely burned by a mad warlord who liked to set his own hands on fire, and yet there was nothing the boy could do. Powerless save for the strength of the hero he brought back to life.
"Shit!" Zhihao stepped through the world, leaving an image of himself behind to scatter on the wind. He reappeared next to the battered old tent where Whispering Blade had dropped the Century Blade's sword. Zhihao slipped his boot under the scabbard and kicked out towards Whispering Blade. "Hey, woman!"
Both Whispering Blade and Flaming Fist looked up at the shout, and Zhihao felt like stepping back through the world again and reappearing anywhere else but there. She saw the sword spinning through the air and launched herself, though it looked like it took all the effort she had left. She caught the scabbard in her left hand, and pulled the Century Blade's sword free, and buried it to the hilt in Flaming Fist's chest even as he tried to block it.
Whispering Blade hit the ground in a puff of dust and didn't move. The big warlord was still on his feet, teetering like a punch-drunk pugilist. Zhihao approached slowly, leaning in to get a look at the man's face. Flaming Fist was trying to say something, blowing bloody bubbles with every word. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed backwards, his skull thudding on the packed ground.
Zhihao ignored the woman, unmoving as she was, and approached just out of striking range of Flaming Fist. He prodded the big warlord with a boot, and then followed up with a swift kick. There was no reaction. The blood from both of Fist's wounds slowed to a trickle and then stopped flowing. Zhihao crept closer. Flaming Fist's right hand continued to burn, the smell of roasting flesh strong and pungent. It was a smell Zhihao had experienced more than enough of for his lifetime. He reached down, wrapped a hand around the hilt of the Century Blade's sword, and pulled it free of Fist's chest. Zhihao raised the sword, and plunged it back down into Fist's chest.
"Right. He's dead," Zhihao announced with cheer. He turned away from the body and decided to quickly put some distance between them, just in case he was wrong. Or just in case coming back from the dead was turning into a common occurrence. "Well done."
He stopped by Whispering Blade, and knelt down next to her. She wasn't moving either.
Chapter 11
"Can't you bring her back again?" Zhihao asked.
"No. It only works once."
"So I'm not immortal?"
"Immortality is subjective. Your stories will always be told. Your legend will never die. But your body can. If you die again, I can't bring you back."
"Shit. So she's…"
"She's not dead."
Cho opened her eyes to see both Ein fiddling with his red scarf, and The Emerald Wind staring down at her. Above them she could see one of the standing stones, stretching high into a sky the colour of a bruised plum. The light was fading. In that brief moment the world seemed at a peace… of sorts. Then the pain flooded in and she had to stop herself from screaming. Gritting her teeth helped, though not much. Each second was agony. Her left arm felt as though it were on fire, and it hurt to breathe, a sure sign of at least one broken rib. She summoned all the energy she could muster and attempted to sit up. The pain convinced her it was futile.
"Are you certain she isn't dead?" The Emerald Wind asked.
Ein glanced up. "She's mostly alive."
Cho winced as a twinge of pain lanced through her chest. "Is Flaming Fist dead?"
The Emerald Wind nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes. Quite dead."
Ein's pale stare moved again, towards the body of Flaming Fist. Cho managed to shake her head. "Don't bring him back."
"He would make a valuable ally," Ein said. "He's strong…"
"No!" Cho said it with such force it felt as though something inside of her snapped, opening up a new space inside her to fill with pain..
"We'd just have to kill him again anyway," The Emerald Wind said. He stood from his spot at her side and stretched his arms. "Flaming Fist isn't…" He paused and a grin spread across his face. "Wasn't the sort of man to follow anyone. Bound to you or not, boy, he would go his own way. And his own way would most likely lead to trying to kill us again. Besides, without his life sustaining his technique, his right arm is already burning to ash."
Ein stared at The Emerald Wind. "I could still…"
"Try and I will stop you." The Emerald Wind dipped his head to the boy. "For her sake, of course."
They held each other's gaze for a while, before The Emerald Wind abruptly coughed and moved away. Ein turned back to Cho. "You're hurt."
Cho's skin was blackened in places, cracked and oozing something fouler than blood. The burns spread up her arm, but below her elbow she could make out the shape of a hand burned into her flesh. A permanent mark left by a man who had come so close to beating her. A final and indisputable proof that she had fought against Flaming Fist. And won. It hurt, but it was a pain she would bear with pride, knowing that she had found justice for the Century Blade. And once the sun had set, and the stars gazed down upon them, she would pray for him. There were plenty of stories of the dead speaking to the living through the stars, and Cho hoped she could have one last conversation with him. She hoped he would approve of her measure of justice.
"I can help." Before she could stop him, Ein placed one hand on her left arm and the other on her chest and held them there. The pain vanished in an instant, replaced by that same numb, tingling void so close to pain yet not. It felt as though her whole body had fallen asleep. She drew in a deep breath for the first time since waking, feeling the air fill her lungs. It felt like new life spreading through her veins, new strength coursing into her limbs.
"Well that's fairly unnerving," The Emerald Wind said, staring at Cho's chest. "And I say that even after all the other unnerving things I've seen in the past few days."
Cho managed to raise her head enough to look down at her chest. A huge, purple and brown bruise spread out from where Ein touched her, showing through the gaps in her under-wrappings, and nearly encompassing the left side of her body. Her arm too, seemed to have sped along in its healing, most of the burn fading to an angry red, leaving only the imprint of Flaming Fist's fingers against her skin.
When Ein finally took his hands away, Cho felt the pain rush back in to fill the void, but it was less than before. She could breathe without the stabbing in her chest, and her arm no longer seemed to be both freezing and burning all at once. She even managed to sit up without screaming, needing no help from her companions. The bruising on her chest was tender to the touch, and hurt when she flexed, but the pain was no longer severe enough to subdue her. She ran her right hand over her left arm, feeling the rough, raw skin. It was no worse than a bad case of sun burn. She got her feet beneath her and stood, stretching and flexing the aches away."