A/N: Half of this is artistic license, as no one knows exactly what happened that morning. But I think most of us can guess. Elza POV. Might do a Kelly POV later, who knows?
My first thought was that I'd never seen the courtyard looking so immaculately clean.
Someone had raked the earth down so that all parts were even and sprinkled it with water to pack it. The smell in the air was green from morning dew and a heavy fog. What there was of the sun struck feebly at the humidity, but there was neither strength nor warmth in it: the misty atmosphere simply hung there. It felt distinctly as if the prairie itself was holding its breath for our duel.
If it was an omen, I thought morbidly, then it was one of the worst sort.
I didn't break stride. I didn't run. I walked towards the three individuals standing on the far western end, forcing myself to keep a straight and composed expression. I felt nauseated and my hands were shaking, so I shoved them in my pockets. Whatever happened, I'd be damned if I was going to let anyone know just how much this rattled me.
Kelly...
Howling Voice's Guildmaster waited for me in silence, his posture ramrod straight as I approached. An errant eddy of cool dawn breeze ruffled at his thick brown hair. There was no warmth in his eyes; they were as coolly composed as my own features. This was nothing more than business: an ugly and sordid business, but business nonetheless.
I gazed at him for a long moment, but he refused to meet my eyes. Like he was ashamed of himself. That satisfied me on a certain level - well, good, he damn well should be ashamed of himself - but I felt more sorry for him than anything else. I could never hate Kelly.
"Elza," he said simply. "Thank you for being prompt."
I nodded in return, my jaw set as stiffly as his spine. Of all the things to say.
"Are you ready?"
"No," I answered frankly, hoping he couldn't hear the quiver in my voice. "Not that it matters, huh?"
He flinched. It was almost below perception, the movement was so slight: but I knew the man. I'd shared his life for too long. Kelly might have been able to fool the elders, but no way in hell could he ever hope to fool me and he knew that. In a way, it was a relief. I realized that he didn't want to do this any more than I did.
"Bring them," Kelly ordered curtly, and the man on the left produced an intricately carved wooden case, held shut by a pair of silvery steel latches. The other reached over and unfastened them, opening the case.
Twin pistols, identical in size and shape, lay nestled on a bed of indigo-colored velvet. Brass and reinforced steel gleamed in narrow flashes of color where the sunlight struck their surfaces. The polished cherrywood frames bore two distinct designs. They were fashioned of iridescent mother-of-pearl, inlaid about two fingers' width from the trigger guard.
One bore a multipointed star, the other a smooth, curved crescent.
Stern and Mond. The ritual dueling pistols of the Howling Voice Guild.
And then, more than it had even before, reality sank in... dropping through the pit of my belly like a twenty-ton leaden deadweight. This wasn't a bad dream or a worst-case fear; it was actually happening.
The observer, oblivious to our unspoken turmoil, intoned his words in a voice that split and crackled like an old woman's joints against the walls of the courtyard.
"The gun Stern or 'Star', represents trust in the Guild, and Mond or 'Moon', represents betrayal. Protection and Assassination, the two faces of the Howling Voice Guild. Guildmaster Kelly, please choose the one you prefer."
Neither of us moved; neither of us spoke. We just stood there for what felt like an hour, even if was probably only a few lingering seconds.
We don't have to do this.
It was on the tip of my tongue. Gods. It was there and I almost said it. I didn't because I was waiting for him to say it. I was waiting for him to turn to the seconds and tell them to put the guns away and cancel the duel. To let us continue as we had been, to find another way to settle this. If I could just explain to the elders that I didn't want the position, then maybe... if he stopped this himself...
He didn't. I knew he wouldn't. Kelly would jump into a barrel of gunpowder and strike a flint before he would defy the elders.
The Guildmaster reached for the pistols. His hand faltered for a moment, clenching briefly in what appeared to be indecision, before settling firmly upon Mond. Gripped it, took it from the box, the lethal and beautiful weapon alive with the glare of the morning sun. It seemed to mock both of us.
Swallowing, I placed my own hand over Stern and drew it from the box. It was heavier than I had thought it would be, and like its partner it was beautiful in a strange way. I hefted it in my right hand, testing the feel. Typical Guild gun. Sights were probably right on. Mind, it was only good for one thing and that was a bad thing, but at least the gunsmiths had made a quality weapon--
Stop babbling.
Right.
We stepped forward, to the center of the courtyard, that heavy silence as thick as the dew on the prairie grass. I tried to think about something else. Old times, happy memories. Anything but the gun in my hand and my opponent: the man who had as a boy rescued a stray puppy at the request of a crying little girl and who had later told that girl that she meant the world to him.
Ten paces from the center. I turned away as I walked in a measured stride, Stern loosely gripped in my right hand, mind spinning even as a part of me automatically counted my steps.
One. Two. Three--
Damn it, I wasn't sure what to think anymore.
Was I afraid? Yeah. But more than that, sad. And disappointed in him.
...four, five, six...
If I'd meant that much to him, he'd have done something to prevent this.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
The final step. I took a deep breath as I pivoted on my heel, facing Kelly so that my right side was flush with his left. My cheeks felt like they were on fire, my heart beat wildly and my throat felt scratchy and dry.
Kelly lifted his chin, his fingers shifting their grip on Mond, and his voice echoed over the masonry of the unmanned walls in a harsh, direct bark:
"Howling Voice, shadow upon the ground!"
And it begins...