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Ping!
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“Fine then. Let’s end this. Meet me in the clearing where the monastery used to be.”
Arin’s feet drum against the earth in a hard, steady rhythm. There’s a sense of comfort in the movement—memories, warmth, laughter, flashes of him sprinting up one thousand steps toward the place he once called home. It used to hold his family there, or at least the people he once thought were a cheap replacement for the one he lost in the Merge. He once held them close to his heart—he still does—but at what cost?
His thoughts burn away before he reaches the top.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
Lloyd rises to his feet. Old history writes a story across his features. Once he was a mentor, once he was a master. Now he is Arin’s grief-driven opponent. He is a protector at the cost of everyone else’s lives.
“I had to. I have to beat you.”
“This is your fault. It has been your fault since I first started training you.”
Arin swallows his fear and regrets. He takes them like a bitter pill. He is only here because of the choices he made. He chased after Ras. He learned the ways of the Wolf Clan. He is the reason the monastery burned down.
He is here because he has written himself into this loop.
That’s the thing about each ninja’s story—numerous and always increasing as they may be.
They have a beginning: they are the hero, they are called to fight, they strengthen their powers until they’re unstoppable.
They have a middle: they enter the fight, and they pour every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears into every punch. They stand at the edge of the world.
They have an end: they have a burst of determination. They race toward the end, they drive the final blow. They win.
Arin can only hope that—this time—his story will be the same.
He catches Lloyd’s first strike with the sturdy handle of his war hammer. He grits his teeth and pushes back against the force that rumbles, rages, and roars for dominance.
Arin had forgotten how strong Lloyd really is. He had forgotten that Lloyd could take his head off if he genuinely wanted to.
Lloyd’s second strike almost does. It’s well-timed, and it’s thought out. He pulls his sword back and whips it back around toward Arin’s neck and only misses by the width of a hair.
Arin rolls backward and stumbles to his feet. His awkward footwork creates enough time for Lloyd to drive home the final blow. The sword pierces through armor, cloth. and bone. Arin screams, wrapping his hands around the hilt that Lloyd grips.
“I’m sorry,” Arin whispers.
It’s a repeated prayer, he’s spoken those words more than he can count. He realizes after so many interactions, so many apologies, so much fighting for what he believe is right: if Lloyd ever forgives him, it’ll be a blisteringly hot day in the Neverrealm.
He closes his eyes and sinks back into a river of blood. A freezing cold chill crawls through his veins. Exhaustion settles into his body like a heavy blade finding its home on the weapon rack. The hands of time brush over his skin, healing his wounds, sewing up his cuts, and softening his bruises.
He bursts awake.
Ping!
1 New Message
“Fine then. Let’s end this. Meet me in the clearing where the monastery used to be.”
Arin’s feet drum against the earth in a hard, steady rhythm. There’s a sense of comfort in the movement—memories, warmth, laughter, sprinting up one thousand steps toward the place he once called home.
It all burns away before Arin reaches the top.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
Lloyd rises to his feet. Old history writes a story across his features.
“I had to. I have to make it out of here, even if it kills us both.”
“This is your fault. It has been your fault since I first started training you.”
That’s the thing about each ninja’s story—numerous and always increasing as they may be. They are clear-cut. They have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
Arin tightens his grip on his war hammer and charges toward Lloyd. His story has a beginning, a middle, and a beginning again.
Over and over.
It’s a foundation that he must destroy.
— — —
There is a universe out there where Lloyd and Arin are mentor and student. They exchange warm smiles, sparring matches, and lighthearted quips between blows. They are friends and they are inseparable.
There is a universe out there where Lloyd and Arin are hero and villain. They exchange vindictive looks, vicious strikes, and harsh words among pleas for mercy. They are enemies.
They are doomed to repeat the endless cycle of light versus darkness.
It is the same universe.
(There is a spark. There is hope. The fight can end.)
(He must be strong enough.)