By the time I had the dead phoenix in my hands, the boy had finished coughing the water out of his lungs. Finally he noticed me and glared. “Th-that’s mine!” he said. 

I couldn’t help but look down at the fool as I drew my bow again. As quickly as it took him to point fingers, he held up both hands in a pacifying gesture. “Whoah, whoah, I mean—I’m the one who killed it, so I should have claim over it, yeah?” 

I rolled my eyes, and started walking away from the stream, taking the phoenix with me. In a spray of muddy water, the boy scrambled out of the stream and stood before me, arms stretched wide. “You wouldn’t’ve been able to kill it if I hadn’t half-downed it! It would’ve just exploded if you did it on your own!” 

“I know perfectly well how to kill a phoenix,” I scowled. “I don’t need your assistance, Greshan weakling.” 

“Waaaaait!” He waved his arms, as if trying to take flight himself. “Okay, okay, so you could have killed it, but didn’t get a chance because I got in the way! And now we’ll never know for sure! But I did still help!” 

“Either spit it out or get out of my way.” 

“I challenge you to a duel over the phoenix!” he quickly declared. 

For the second time today, the boy made me hesitate. A duel…from a Greshan. He looked like he hasn’t fought a day in his life before today. My lips curled into an amused smirk. “Alright. Well, you have my interest.” 

“Is that a yes?” the Greshan boy asked, eyes practically sparkling. 

“Yes. Only if upon your imminent loss, you shut up and accept your defeat.” 

“Okay!” We each took up our positions. To my surprise, he got back into the stream, while I remained on the bank, the dead phoenix a decent ways away from our designated arena. I offered him my hunting knife, and we each drew blood, allowing it to mix with the mud. Whether Angran or Greshan, it was reassuring to see he would still accept an oath to Crown Naruune without prattling on. 

Still, seeing him up close only made me more confident. Completely scarless. As he assumed his stance, I smirked. This would be a brief fight. 

I wouldn’t use my bow for this. Instead I kicked at his head. He dropped—must have slipped in the river. I couldn’t see him in the muddy waters, but he couldn’t hold his breath forever. I squinted, peering into the stream, when a spray of filthy water caused me to reel back. The boy exploded from the stream and tackled me. 

Briefly he had the advantage in blinding me, but he had just surrendered it again. A few clever ploys, but no strategy in a real fight. I grinned as I locked my hands around his arms. Beneath the fat I felt muscle, but raw strength alone won’t save him. A fire coursed through my veins. Using his own momentum against him, I threw him to the ground. He squirmed in the mud, but I put a stop to it with a well-placed foot. Finally I rubbed the muck from my eyes. 

I raised my leg again as pain shot through my ankle. He chomped it while I was distracted! He actually did that, was he really a dog? It didn’t take long to regain my stance, but I was growing bored now. Before he could attack again, I drew my hunting knife and stabbed. Now he was on the defensive, helplessly dodging and moving back as I slashed again and again. A wide grin cut my own face. How long before the boy fled to the safety of his city walls? If he did break the oath by running, I’d be well within my rights to kill him. 

Slice. A wisp of hair went flying. Slash. He barely dodged. My blade nicked tree bark instead. But now his back was against a tree, nowhere else to go. I dealt the final blow. 

Instead of dodging, he leaned forward and grabbed my wrist, throwing my blow off-course. It sliced open his left cheek instead of his throat. His face became a manic grin to match my own as a breathy laugh escaped his lips. 

“Good one,” he giggled. 

To my surprise, I was not annoyed that he dodged. Seeing him finally fight back sent a flutter through my chest. Maybe this wouldn’t be boring, after all. 

With brawn alone, he forced me backwards, then threw me down on the ground. I rolled out of his reach, then sprung into a crouch and stabbed. He grabbed my wrist, hard, twisting and throwing me back on the ground. I couldn’t regain my balance. His strength was no joke, stopping me from escaping his grasp. The knife was torn from my grasp. 

He flashed me a bright and cheery grin, contrasting the crimson blood flowing down his face. “I win!” he said, like this was some game. I gritted my teeth, and punched him in the nose. Confusion and surprise flashed across his face for a brief second. Just long enough for me to land another punch. 

“Okay! Okay!” he relented. “I yield!” 

An even stronger wave of rage crashed through me, and I slammed him against a tree. Heat coursed through my palms and seared his flesh. My grin became predatory as he squirmed and gasped. 

Then, between my legs, a sharp pain. He kicked me!? I realize I’ve released him, moments before his hands have grabbed my neck. Ridiculously, he began to hum a song. The same one which put the phoenix to sleep. 

I bit, clawed, and fought. But a growing darkness clouded the edges of my vision. Like a deer fleeing a dog, I couldn’t escape unconsciousness…