Chapter VI

My Hero

Death.

It’s the ultimate fear. We all go about our lives, trying our best to avoid it, but it affects us all. No matter how many times we escape it, we only subdue it. Death cannot be stopped… but then should it be?

I like to think that, if I could eradicate death… I wouldn’t. I’m no spiritualist, but I respect death. I think we owe a lot to it. How many times in history has death defeated the villains that all our heroes could not? Death is our hero - a white knight cloaked in black.

I’ve seen death work. I’ve seen it weave its intricate claws into my father’s chest and stop his heart, releasing him into the beyond. I’ve seen it’s malevolent gaze reflected in the blades of the soldiers who dispatched my brothers; using them to further its cause. Like time, it is untouchable.

Perhaps I shouldn’t see it as a hero, though? Death has claimed all the family I’ve ever had. It has taken everyone who so much as showed me affection. Even my first foster parents were claimed only seven months after they adopted me. It seems that death haunts me, but no matter where his black hammer strikes it is always off centre, taking those whom I care about, but never myself.

I have found refuge, though; in a village. I’ve lived here for seventeen years, since I was twenty-two in fact, and it seems that death has abandoned me. It seems as though the village, known as the ‘refuge of souls’, is mysterious to death. He cannot climb his way into our borders. It seems he is powerless in the village.

But can there possibly be a place where death is toothless? A place where no one can die? I have never heard of anyone dying in the village and those villagers who do lose their lives always do so outside our village. Perhaps it is coincidence, since there are far more dangers in the outside than there are in the humble village of Geghis. Either way I have been safe.

I’ve been careful nonetheless. I keep to myself, away from the other villagers, not because I dislike them but because I fear for their safety. I seem to have a penchant for attracting death. I know it sounds melodramatic - surely no one could attract death - but my history seems to imply otherwise and though I can't explain it I've grown to respect the fact that if I get too close to someone there's a strong likelihood that they'll find their way out of this world.

This is why I feel alone. I cannot care for them. If I care for them I condemn them. So I stay away. By now they know to leave me; that I do not wish to talk to them. So if I want I can sit on the bench, in front of the fountain with only my book and read in peace. I can enjoy the sound of the running water, ambient noises of a quaint village in this isolated paradise. And sometimes… I can also watch him.

His name is Blaze and even in Geghis, which seems to be full of subtle heroes, he stands out as the most superior hero. He is our protector: the hero of heroes. He wields ‘The Vengez’ and protects us from the outside world. It appears that outsiders are scared to venture into the legendary village, because they know about Blaze.

He is the most powerful person in the country and possibly the world. I don’t delude myself into thinking he was borne to this power or that he was destined for it. He became the valiant warrior he is today through a series of happy accidents. But it doesn’t matter how one acquires their power, only how they use the power they have. Blaze uses his power for neither good nor evil. He simply has it. I don’t think he is even aware of making this choice, but I think that makes it better. His innocence coupled with his power makes him a hero.

Not many could do the things he does; that's what sets him apart from the rest. When push comes to shove... he still risks his life. He still enters a dangerous situation knowing that he could very well lose his life. Not many could do that. I'm sure, at some level, he cares about saving the miscellaneous pet, child or villager, but I can tell from his expression, from the way he talks and from his actions that he only throws himself into a fray if his success offers enough to him.

I’m perfectly aware that I perhaps over-analyse things. I think it’s a side effect of being a social recluse: I tend to spend a lot more time watching others. Their body language, the sideways glances that they think no one else sees... I think I understand the human mind a lot more than anyone else in Geghis does. Not that it does me much good.

Sometimes I infuriate myself. I wonder why I entertain my pathetic, girlish crush when I can see all this. But I feel that I'm the only person who sees Blaze for what he really is and the fact that I could still love him means that I deserve him… It really is a stupid crush.

I don't even really know him. I only see him in passing, whether it's through the window of the alehouse or in the village centre, at the Morning and Evening Drink, or sparring with imaginary opponents to stay sharp. I've only spoken to him once and it was without a doubt the most awkward moment of my sad, little life.

Now the whole village has been shaken by the arrival of a man. He looks young and old at the same time and I get the feeling that he's much older than he appears to be. I've only seen a glimpse of him, but as I saw him enter the alehouse, he looked me straight in the eye. I wasn't scared, he's just a man and Blaze would defend the honour of any woman in the village, but I got the impression he was as disturbed by my presence as I was by his. I have no idea what his purpose here is.

I always wash my clothes away from the rest of the village. While they scrub and rinse their garments in the stream, I prefer to stay away rather than test my... affliction on the unsuspecting public. I don't mind the lonely life I live, but today I wish I were down there with the rest of the villagers, discussing the arrival of the man.

The village has had one visitor since my arrival here and he left shortly after. I guess what everyone is thinking at the moment is ‘What does the man want?’ He may want to train under Blaze like the last boy, but I feel he has a different... possibly darker motive.

I let my curiosity get the better of me and allow myself to risk a wander down to the stall where I look at Horace’s produce and listen for gossip.

"That new boy's here tae talk wi Blaze.” Horace says.

It takes me a moment to realise he's talking to me.

"Sorry?” I reply and feel my face redden.

"Yir here to find oot whit's gone on, incha?” Horace speaks a dialect native only to the village.

"Um... well, I- There's a visitor?"

"Ye dinnae know e was ere? Thought evriwan did. 'E arrived this mornin, said is lookin fir Blaze and won' talk to nain else."

"Really? I wonder what he wants."

"A figure he wants to be Blaze's study. A dinnae ken know how he managed to get here wi’oot hearing that Blaze aint ne’er taken nae studies. But he's here and he'll probably be gone by morrow."

"Hmm...but he looks strange doesn't he... like a Darklander.", I say recalling, first, his pale palour and then, unwillingly, the cold blank abyss I could almost see behind his warm eyes.

"I aint ne’er seen any proper ootsiders, but I'll say that he defni looks like a dougal. Though paler than av air seen befair."

"He does...” I say and allow the conversation to turn to business, finally leaving with a small bag of potatoes and some questionable looking tomatoes.

It turns out his name is 'Oris': A strange name and probably a lie. It's Darklandish for 'deceiver' and I have a hard time believing that anyone would call their child that. Since his arrival, he's become more open and has begun teaching children to swordfight in the village centre. He uses a dull, almost black sword and playfully bats at the children’s mock wooden swords with the flat.

I haven't seen Blaze all day. It's sad that I know this, but he usually goes to the alehouse about two-ish and it's now four. He didn’t show up for the Morning Drink or the Evening Drink. I don’t normally take part, but when I was watching from the window, I saw them all gather around the fountain with their cups and I couldn’t see his flaming red hair anywhere amongst the throng of people. No one else in town seemed to notice, but I'm worried for Blaze's safety. The thought occurs to me that perhaps this Oris is here to challenge Blaze.

But why am I worried? Blaze has faced fiercer opponents than this man... he looks no older than twenty-five, Blaze must have at least ten years experience on him. He’s faced demonic creatures and fought the elements themselves, what chance does this man – this ‘Oris’ – have against him?

But then why do I still feel the unease? It all comes back to that gaze, the moment Oris’ eyes met my own. I sensed something from him: Some ulterior motive? Evil intent? I'm not sure... but I have a feeling he's hiding something and I intend to find out what.

That's why I find myself walking down to the fountain. I find that I'm holding a book (an old favourite) and then, almost suddenly, I find myself sitting at the fountain facing slightly right of Oris' entertainment.

I open the book at a random page and face the tiny text, paying it no attention whatsoever. I can hear the knocking of his sword as it fends off the increasingly aggressive attacks of Aulay and Tavish, two headstrong boys from the far end of the village.

"Yer much tae fast fer us, Oriz. Kin a no av yer sword ciz its no much fair oan me an Tav.", Aulay's tiny voice pleads with the stranger.

"I don't think your mother would be too happy if I handed her son a weapon.", the man replies in a surprisingly friendly voice.

“Av held a sword befair, Oriz, honest. As a matter a passin, wee Tav used tae huv a dagger till it fell in the loch, din ye Tav?”

“Aye a surely did.”, Tavish hastily adds.

“An me mam aint ne’er had nuttin tae say aboot me holdin me faethers sword.”

“Sorry boys. This is a special sword. I’m the only one that holds it. Why don’t you borrow one from someone else?”

“Moan Tav, less go see if wi can borra wan offa Lachlan, his da’s git plenny.”, Auley is already running as he finishes the sentence and Tavish obediently follows, leaving me and my book alone with Oris.

He allows a silence to settle before breaking it.

“So… are you here to spy on me for the village?” he says.

I’m suddenly terrified. I can barely remember how I got here. He’s an outsider, he could be dangerous and I’m sitting alone at near enough sunset. I’m here out of some kind of pathetic unrequited loyalty to Blaze. I feel exposed and decide not to reply.

“Excuse me.” He persists and I’m forced to respond.

“Sorry, I was lost in the pages,” I reply none to convincingly.

“If you say so.” he says solemnly and sits down a few feet from me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, trying not to sound rude.

“I hope you can. I’m looking for a man named Blaze.”

“Blaze?”

“You know him?”

“Well, I know of him… I don’t speak to him much.”

“So this is his village?”

“His… village? He lives here if that’s what you mean.”

“I hear he’s quite the warrior. Undefeated, people say.”

“Well, yes… I’ve never seen him defeated. Why are you looking for Blaze?”

“I’m passing through Geghis to meet Blaze.”

“Passing through?” I ask.

“I’m headed into the west. I’m on a journey… sightsee-ing, I guess you could call it. Thought I’d take a look at Geghis, maybe the mountain then head out to the old temple ruins.”

“Sight seeing? In Yrfeland? If you say so.”, I say wryly, “though I don’t understand why you’ve been so guarded with the villagers.”

I find it strange how easy it is to talk to this man. His skin is glowing orange as the sun makes its slow descent into the far away hills and I find myself totally at ease.

“Villagers? Are you not a villager, yourself?”

“I suppose, in a manner of speaking, but you can probably tell from my accent, that I’m not from around here.”

“I haven’t introduced myself… my name is Oris.”

“I know that. Isn’t it Darklandish for ‘deciever’?”

“You’ve been to the Darklands?”

“I travelled far before I found Geghis.” I reply darkly.

“Well your translation is commendable, but not entirely correct. My name means ‘mask’.”

“Is there any particular reason for that?” I ask him trying to be as direct as possible.

“We all wear masks. I’m sure even you… or the great Blaze have masks of your own.” he speaks as though I’m a child who’s finally old enough to know the truth about the world. “Nobody is who they seem.”

“Even you?” I ask, continuing my direct interrogation.

“You strike me as an observer.” he speaks with an air of wisdom, “I too am an observer. I’ve watched people and I’ve seen the things they hide.” He aims a piercing glance my way.

I start to feel desperately uncomfortable. “I have to go.” I say. The sun is about to disappear and for some reason I don’t want to be here after dusk.

“If you must. I best return to my room at the Alehouse. I look forward to speaking to you again.” he says and leaves me sitting at the fountain.

I watch the sun finally dissolve on the horizon and I move to get up, but Oris stops mid-stride. My chest tightens and that horrible feeling returns to my entire body. He turns to me and flashes his smile again.

“See you tomorrow,” he says and finally strides off towards the alehouse.

My conversation with Oris plays through my mind all night. I can't help thinking about what will happen between him and Blaze so much so that I don't sleep at all that night.

The next day I'm pleased to see that Blaze is out and about. He’s present for the Morning Drink and presently sits in the square talking to the other villagers, who are no doubt reporting the arrival of Oris. I'm pleased to see that Blaze looks as confident as ever and I manage to return to my daily routine, because I obviously have work to do.

When I first arrived in Geghis, I was shocked at the fact that it has no currency. It took a while to get the hang of. Everybody in the village simply trades goods and services among themselves. After buying produce yesterday, I now have a jacket of Horace’s to repair. Not many people can repair clothes as well as I can, which is why I fitted into the village so quickly.

The last boy who arrived was immediately turned down by Blaze as a study and then, probably in strong willed defiance, tried to merge with the village. He had no skills to speak of except swordsmanship. He refused to help on Horace's farm and wouldn't repair houses or clothes or do anything. In fact he left the day after he arrived, probably disillusioned since he'd apparently travelled so far to get here.

Even Blaze works. As he walks off towards the farmlands with a group of villagers, his sword swings delicately from his waist: A legendary sword: The Vengez Sword. It's the reason Blaze is still alive today. It can cut through anything; flesh, bone, stone, nothing is safe or impervious to it and he uses it to defend us.

Oris stalks into view. He comes out of the alehouse, yawning and stretching in his crisp, clean, white t-shirt. He's removed his long black jacket, now and is beginning to look more like an Yrfelander. I watch from the shadows as he walks towards the fountain and then quicker than I've ever seen a man move, he turns and faces me and smiles.

Even though my face is hidden in the shadows of my dark kitchen, I know that he can see me and that he knows I was watching him. He makes towards my house and in that split second I make an exhilarating decision. I'm going to see Blaze.

I leave through my back door and walk through the stream that flows past my house, watching Oris slowly approach the house. I quickly run behind my neighbours, the Connors, and head towards the farmlands. Blaze must be on his rest, because he's sitting on a fence idly drawing in the soil with his sword.

I begin to doubt myself, but eventually build up enough courage to approach him. He looks up before I arrive, his red mane of hair glowing dazzlingly in the sunlight, and I feel his eyes burn into me further and further with every step I take.

"Mary,” he says. My heart becomes weightless for a second; he knows my name?

"Hello, Blaze.” My voice sounds ridiculous in my head. I’m trying to remember what I actually came here to say.

"Whit's the matter?” he asks, returning to his etchings in the soil.

"It's the visitor, he-"

"Dinnae worry, Mary," my knees nearly buckle as he repeats my name, "Ah ken E‘s here tae see me."

"Yes, but-"

"Ah sed dinnae worry, Mary. Ah sensed im comin’. Probably wints tae learn how tae fight."

"No but he's strong as well and I was thinking."

"It disnae matter how strong ‘e is, I dinnae take on nae studies. A'll turn him doon and el’ go. Jus like the last wan."

"No I don't think he's here to study, I’m worried he wants to... to challenge you."

Blaze laughs. Loudly and each roar from his vibrating throat feels like a cut from the Vengez Sword, itself. I was only trying to help and he's laughing at me. "It‘s no like yi tae worry aboot a wee lad? I've bested men twice his size, Av killed giants, all kinds a beithir, armies, and yir worried aboot a boy?"

"I- I-"

"Listen, Mary, wiv ne’er really talked befair. Din ken why… mibae cause yir an ootsider, but yi canny go on worryin aboot everiwan who comes in here hoddin a sword. Aint none wid dare challenge me... an if they did, I'd beat em them the same way I've beaten every urr person who's git in ma way."

I realise, now, that he's going to do the speech.

"I wis chosen, Mary, tae huv this sword, and aye- aye it does gie mi ah udvantage o’er maist men, but this sword picked me ootta everyone else tae huv it. That‘s goat tae count fir summin."

The speech hasn't changed since I last heard it.

"When I pulled the sword oota some rubble in a country miles un miles away, ah knew it wis powerful. Ah felt it make mi stronger. An on that day I promised tae God or the faeries or whoever put me here tha I would use it fir good. No fir masel’ but tae protect everiwan else here. Un that’s whit av dun. There’s plenty oot there who’d just use this sword te get as much as they could, but no me!”

This isn’t helping anything at all. I feel like a fool for even trying. I want to walk away, but Blaze is looking me in the eye and I feel forced to stay.

"Don't worry aboot me, Mary. I kin tek care o misel."

It's when he's like this that I like him. The sincerity in his voice shows that he’s listening. When you strip away the speeches, the sword, everything, you're left with someone completely different. I wonder if the village sees him this way. Whether they like Blaze or whether they like the man with the sword.

"Mary... Do yi ken wit this sword is called? It’s called the Vengez. Di yi ken whit that means?"

"No- I don't, look I'm just worried. This Oris… he seems to know what he's doing... he seems so confident."

"Then e‘s too confident. E‘s fallin‘ in love wi imsel. If e challenges me, I'll tell him ah don't take no studies or no challenges. If e‘s no happy wi that I‘ll pit my sword right through im an change his mind."

This conversation has gone nowhere. Why did I come here? Because I was worried about what this Oris was capable of. I've told Blaze my concerns and he's laughed them off. At least I know he’ll turn down a challenge. I say goodbye to him and leave only with the consolation that I didn't make a complete fool of myself this time.

Unfortunately, Oris catches me on my way back home.

"Hello, Mary."

"Hello,” I reply in a less than friendly voice.

"I know you're probably busy, but I saw that you were talking to Blaze just there. By the way, I thought you didn't talk to him?"

"Until today, I didn't."

"Oh, well it's nice that you've finally built up the courage."

"Excuse me?"

"It's nice that you've finally had the chance to speak to him, given how you feel about him."

I panic. Does he know? How does he know how I feel? I've kept myself distant from the whole village and I've kept my feelings tight in my heart. How can a man who's been here one day have any idea how I feel?

"I don't follow you... I um… really don't know what you're talking about. Look, I really have to go."

"Okay. Sorry... I thought you were ready."

It's a stupid trick; a trick to make me keep talking. I walk away determined not to fall for it, but after three steps I turn around.

“Ready for what exactly?” I say cursing myself.

"Ready to talk about your feelings for him. Sounds like you really like him. You know... to warn him like that."

"You were listening?"

"I prefer the term eavesdropping, but yes I was. So you think I'm here to challenge him, do you?"

"No I don't know why you're here, why don't you tell me? I‘m sure it‘s not to harass me."

"I'm here because I've been told to be here."

"By who?"

"By prophecy - the fabric of reality itself."

“You say the faeries sent you here?"

"I didn't expect you to believe me, but I don't mind stating my intentions to you. I intend to leave this village with the Vengez Sword in my possession."

I try not to cave to the shock, but my face must betray me because Oris smiles and in that moment I hate him.

"He won't let you,” I say.

"I doubt ‘the hero’ would, which is why I'll kill him if I have to." He says the word 'kill' so softly, that it takes a moment for me to realise just how heartless this warm, friendly stranger is.

"He's defeated-"

"Giants, monsters, small armies - yeah I know, but I can defeat him, so the only person who can save him is you."

"What?"

"You know what I want. The sword. If you can get it to me then I don't have to cut it from his hand... are you following this?"

I abruptly fall to the ground. He's blackmailing me.

"You probably think this is blackmail, but it's not. I am leaving here with the sword, no matter what. Normally I wouldn't bother with who I killed, but I can see you love him... so I'm really being quite generous."

I sit in utter silence, thinking about everything. People are staring now and Mr Connor is approaching. I try to stand up, but fall back to the ground immediately.

"Whit's gon on here?", Blaze's voice shines through the growing whispers.

Oris bends down and helps me to my feet. He supports me with one arm while his other hand rests on the hilt of his sword.

"Nothing much, Mary here, came over faint for a moment... are you feeling okay now, Mary?", Oris looks at me in mock adoration.

"I- I'm...” I think every curse word in every language at Oris, "I'm fine."

"Do you need any help, home?” Oris asks and I interpret this as something less than an option.

"No, thank you. I don’t want your help,", I say through gritted teeth. I feel as though the whole village is watching and as I survey my surroundings I can see that it’s a pretty fair estimate. “and you’ll never get mine”, I whisper so that only my secret oppressor can hear.

Oris speaks up in the friendliest voice I’ve ever heard, “Well, then. While you’re here… Blaze is it? Well, while you’re here I should tell you that I intend to leave here tomorrow-”

“Ah should hope so, yiv been causin a right cummotion since ye arrived,” Blaze replies in a surly tone.

“If you’d let me finish. I intend to leave here tomorrow with that very special sword in my possession.” He indicates to the weapon at Blaze’s waist. “Anyone who tries to stop me will be killed,” Oris adds as a cheerful afterthought.

“Who the hell dye think ye ur? Di yi even ken who ah um? Am Blaze. Get the hell oota here ya daft wee boy. Who yi jokin comin in here wi that patter? Yir lucky av no slashed yi right here an now.”

“I just thought I’d let you know my intentions. I would hate for you to realise the sword was gone and not know where it went. Goodbye.”

The rest of the village is at a standstill. Blaze looks almost amused. Oris begins to walk away.

“Don’t even think aboot turnin yir back oan me, you!”

Blaze swings his sword upwards and brings it down on Oris, but before it makes contact, Oris’ leg swings backwards and sends Blaze airborne, landing him in a group of stunned spectators.

“I wouldn’t advise doing that again.” Oris concludes and heads back to the alehouse.

“Fine then! Yiv goat it! Timorra! Here! A proper fight! Then wull see who’s advisin who ah whit.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. How about noon? Just for the added sense of drama.”

“See yi then.”

Both stalk off in different directions, thinking they’ve got the better of the other. I’m left sitting on the ground. The crowd doesn’t know who to follow and as a result a substantial portion just stand and stare at me - the woman who brought this all about.

Eventually someone helps me to my feet, though I have to escape back to my home as everyone wants to know my account of the ‘exciting’ events. With every concerned hand on my shoulder, I fear the hand of death itself will slither out and take my fellow villagers away, as punishment for getting too close to me.

I don’t expect to sleep tonight, but I feel slumber overtake me and I fall into it’s embrace happily fading away from the harsh reality of what will happen tomorrow.

***

I feel like this is somehow my fault. How did it get this far? This is my fault. I should have... I don't even know what I should have done, but I know I should have done things different. The two men face each other, a cocky smile on both their faces.

They look alike. The only difference in the two is that between Blaze's furiously red hair blowing in the wind and Oris' short black hair jutting in all directions and completely unmoved by the angry gales.

The rest of the village watches as though this is some sort of entertainment - as though one of these men is not going to lose his life. I'm not even sure who I want to win. Oris is up against a sword that can cut through anything. Not only do I find it strange that the villagers could let anyone enter this fight, I find it ridiculous that a man would willingly enter it himself. It’s not that I care about Oris… I just don’t want him to die.

But Oris stands there, a knowing smile on his face. He holds the black sword he arrived with at his side, kicking it occasionally but mostly directing his attention to Blaze who is either testing his weapon or trying to intimidate Oris by cutting pebbles across the lethal blade.

The two step forward, making the required bow, before stepping backwards. The fight has begun.

I've seen only one other sword fight before and it was a defining moment of my childhood. My father faced against another man over some petty squabble that rose from slander to crossed blades all too quickly. As his daughter I was forced to watch the battle that, although ending in a relatively painless death, changed the way I viewed the world forever.

My father was greatly outmatched - I'm still not sure why he ever agreed to the challenge, but he won. I remember the gasps and murmur though the crowd of spectators and the silence surrounding the terminal slice. I couldn't watch it, myself. I sat with my eyes closed wishing to whatever gods existed that my father would be spared. That I would give everything -endure anything -if some spirit or deity could only help him survive this one fight.

My wish was granted and the result made me feel guilty for the death of the other man. He had been bitter, callous and in every sense deserved his demise, but to the nine-year-old girl who'd essentially prayed the man to death, guilt was quite abundant.

I feel like Blaze and Oris are fighting for me now. They've yet to strike each other, but they circle with a terrifying intensity. Blaze naturally lunges first and I'm that nine-year-old girl once again. My eyes close as soon as Blaze moves and I catch only a fleeting glimpse of Oris' response.

After some ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s from the congregation I manage to open my eyes and see that neither man has a scratch on him. Oris is still smiling. His teeth shine a perfect white, even in the dull weather. Is he enjoying this?

I'm confused over why I don’t want Oris to be killed. Oris has been so nice to me: so understanding. He's done everything I ever wanted Blaze to do. He talked to me, he cared about my feelings... but I wanted Blaze to do those things... not Oris. Just because Oris talks to me, just because he's got a nice smile doesn't make him Blaze.

My stupid crush on Blaze runs almost as deep as my stay here. When I first arrived I hated him. He was so insensitive and full of himself - I nearly left after deciding that I couldn't live with a village full of people who dedicated themselves to such a fraud. It was a sad moment, really. I'd spent a great deal of time searching for the village that only existed in legend... and when I found it I was so disappointed.

I was forced to stay an extra night because by the time I'd made up my mind, it was already dark and no one with any sense walks the forests at night. Then the next day I saw Blaze in action. The village, being in the middle of a forest was a natural target for predators. It wasn't uncommon for children to be snatched, or so a concerned woman told me.

It transpired that something of that sort had happened because on the far side of the village, Blaze was hacking into some kind of huge plant - it's tendrils wrapped around a thoroughly thrilled child, who was glad to have a front row seat in the rescue-come-slaughter.

It was the way he leapt from place to place, his eyes so focused and every movement so precise. A simple turn sent tendrils flying across the village and although more inevitably appeared in their place, Blaze kept on hacking, that fixed expression of effort never straying from his furrowed brow.

I ran closer to get a better look at the fray and with every step I took, Blaze seemed to get more and more magnificent. As I stopped running I watched from behind a crowd and saw the finishing blow. Blaze leapt into the air - much higher than I'd ever seen a man jump and then by some unknown force, driving himself deep into the creature where it collapsed like some violent, deflated balloon at his feet.

The village cheered and even I cheered for this man who, only the night before, had driven me to abandon the home I'd spent years searching for. And I stayed - and what for? For this? Am I having second thoughts now? Maybe I'm losing the crush. I feel like I've wasted the past couple of years on Blaze. What have I got to show for it except an embarrassing history of unrequited love?

Nonetheless, why am I scared for Oris? He only talked to me because he wanted the sword. I've only just noticed how Oris is watching the sword, now. Even as Blaze leaps around Oris, the cold eyes never leave the legendary blade that Blaze carries. As Oris bends backwards, avoiding the swipe of Blaze's next attack, his eyes are focused on the weapon.

I feel altogether helpless. It seems obvious that Blaze is going to win this battle, but then there's Oris' smile. He's barely even attacked Blaze. It's at that point I realise the battle hasn't even started.

Oris throws his sword into the air, straight up, it doesn't spin at all, it just shoots up as though it's falling towards the sky. Oris takes this moment to move and while Blaze's attention is diverted Oris rolls beside him, sweeping his leg and bringing Blaze down to one knee.

Oris and stands next to the semi-fallen hero with a jovial smile on his face and catches his returning sword. It’s like he's just played some good-natured joke on Blaze. The children in the audience laugh and jeer and my face burns for Blaze.

Blaze stands quickly and holds his sword above his head, pointing it at Oris with a look of concentration. He is now aware that he underestimated Oris. In what is possibly a smart move, he allows Oris to attack first and manages to step sideward into a counter attack that would fell most men… But not Oris.

Oris almost changes direction midair, his foot barely touches the ground before he's spun over to the right and is facing a now worried looking Blaze.

I've seen Blaze fight better than this, though. He's holding back for some reason that I can't discern. Oris takes the offensive again, padding lightly towards Blaze with his sword held out at his side. It suddenly dawns on me that Oris has been testing the water with Blaze, checking to see how he fights.

Blaze has realised this all to late and now swings his deadly sword at Oris who has no choice but to withdraw for the time being.

Once again I feel that I can't watch this. Finally Blaze understands that he has to end the fight as soon as possible and jumps at Oris, randomly attacking from all sides, while Oris avoids the attacks skilfully and now with a hint of fear on his face. Blaze is suddenly fighting better than I've ever seen him. His attacks are always different and Oris only barely avoids one. There's a spray of red and both fighters extricate themselves from the battle to survey the damage.

Oris is cut across the arm and dark blood trickles down through his fingers. He seems only amused by this and glances at his wound with mild interest. Then he moves so fast it's almost instantaneous. One moment he's standing next to Blaze and the next he's standing back where he was, with Blaze looking down at his own arm - an identical cut now decorates it.

It's considered disrespectful to talk to an opponent during a sword fight and muttering sweeps through the crowd when Oris addresses Blaze.

"The sword is coming with me,” he states as though here is no audience at all, "Whether I take your life with me is entirely up to you."

"Ah willnae gie ye the sword. The village needs it. Ye might be a better fighter than ah thought, but am no beaten yet. So stoap yer talkin and start fightin."

"I just thought I'd give you the opportunity. I don't want to kill unless I really need to."

Rather than respond, Blaze throws himself at Oris and receives a very deep cut to the leg. The two are now somewhere else entirely. It's very clear that Blaze is outmatched - this is why I love him. Now, even when he knows he's going to lose he’s still fighting.

I’m not sure whether he cares for the welfare of the village or whether he can’t bear to see his reputation dissolve in front of him, but he’s fighting with a reckless ferocity I’ve never seen him muster.

Even at this heightened ability he is still fighting a losing battle. Oris is barely trying. He keeps making sideways glances at me. His eyes flick to and from the raging fiend in front of him to me and I can see that the only reason Blaze isn’t dead yet is because Oris, for some reason, doesn’t want to upset me.

I keep shaking my head and my eyes blur as they fill with tears. Everyone else in the village is enjoying it, though. Smiles all round. To think I ever considered these people good; to think I thought they cared. All they wanted from Blaze was protection. Even now watching what is obviously his demise, no one will lend a hand… It takes a moment of confusion to realise that I myself am doing nothing either. I’m just watching his downfall like the rest of these selfish sycophants.

Well not now. I step forward, but someone tries to hold me back - another rule of a swordfight is that no one must interrupt. I shake off whoever’s trying to stop me and they let me go with little struggle. They clearly consider my interruption as just another piece of entertainment.

“Stop!” I sob, “Please just stop.”

“Yir taken this dougals side?” Blaze says through gasps of fatigue.

“No… I’m taking your side, Blaze. I don’t want you to die. Not now… I want you to live.”

Oris stands still allowing me to plead my case to Blaze.

“Boys, get her oota here. She’s an insult,” he sneers at me.

Bulky males approach and lift me off the ground as though I weigh nothing at all. But they don’t make me leave; they clearly want to see the outcome and continue watching while holding me in place so that I myself have no choice but to continue watching.

“You should listen to her, you know. She’s the only person in the village who cares about you.”, Oris speaks in a manner unbecoming of a murderer. He speaks as though he’s doing nothing wrong. As though he’s teaching us all a lesson.

“You shut yer mooth and keep fighting. Ah’d huv yi deed by now if yer wee burd hudnae interrupted us.”

Oris’ eyes narrow. He looks at me with an apologetic face.

“I’m sorry Mary, but he’s asking for this. After this I don’t want you to waste yourself on anyone else like him.”

Blaze snorts at us. Oris turns and faces my fallen idol and so begins the humiliating demise of Blaze.

Oris has already proven he’s more than a match for Blaze. Oris knows a lot. He’s like me. He watches people. Blaze is too easy to read. You only have to hear him speak and you can tell he’s conceited, full of himself and none too bright. I saw all these things over time, but it didn’t stop me loving him. It’s only now I realise how pure my feelings are for him.

I was confused about everything. I loved the man that nobody else could see and I wasn’t really sure he existed… and now that his life is about to end… now that I know he’s leaving me forever. I know it. It’s like a scream screeching from my chest. Everything’s a blur. I think I’m crying. My face feels wet.

Oris is toying with him again. Blaze is wounded badly. His arms are cut he limps to and fro, trying to feign competence, but I know that at this moment I would stand more of a chance in there than he would.

Oris is smiling merrily. He cuts across Blaze’s back who by this point is too weak to even lift his famous blade. Blaze falls to the ground. On his knees, his sword falls from his hand and he lets out a tired groan.

“I’m sorry, Blaze, but we’re not done, yet,” Oris says grimly. “You were rude to this woman. These villagers… these people.”, he points around at the crowd, “they don’t care about you. They use you. They just want your protection… But Mary here, my good friend Mary, she loves you… or at least loved you. I’m not sure how your last transgression affected her feelings, but you rejected her concerns when they could have saved your life.”

The villagers are backing away now. They know it’s over and they don’t want to see the end. Maybe some of them are ashamed… though I imagine they would do something if they were. No I think they’re worried about themselves and their families. Some villagers are apparently more sinister and malevolent than I thought because they stay to watch.

I’m on my knees as well, now. The men who were holding me have long since departed to their homes and the recesses of guilt. I feel as though only myself, Blaze and Oris remain, though I know the others are still watching.

“I am going to kill you anyway, in the interest of your afterlife, your going to apologise to Mary before you go,” Oris states.

“Mary… am.”

`“Please don’t say it,” I interrupt, “Please, Oris… don’t kill him. Take the sword and go,” I beg him. Tears stream down my face so that only a vague smudge replies.

“Mary, I used to be like you: A watcher and a dreamer. Always watching, imagining the better life. Stop dreaming, Mary. Blaze is not a nice person. He cares only about his pride and that’s a real sin. It’s a real wrong.”

“Yir one tae talk aboot… whits right an wrang when… yir… goin aboot killin folk.”, Blaze says through bubbles of blood. Oris looks amused. “An ah um sorry Mary. Ah shoulda lissind tae ye.”

“There we are, Mary, we got that apology after all,” Oris says and walks towards the crumpled figure that was once my hero.

Before I know what I’m doing, I get up and throw myself on top of Blaze.

“Don’t… kill him,” I sob.

“Mary, I’m only helping you in the long run. Sometimes we’re forced to make unpopular decisions for the greater good. You’ll appreciate this in time.”

I have no time to react. He kicks me of off the quivering Blaze and plunges his black sword through Blaze’s chest, who‘s eyes widen momentarily and then the life is gone.I scream and feel my tears almost explode from my face. Not even a heartfelt goodbye to my hero.

He’s just a body now.