SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS It ended up being WAY longer than I thought it would ORZ At least most of it is cute and happy (most of it ahaha) some foreshadowing should be flaming obvious by now but oh well I'm sure most of you have figured it out.
ALSO Before you begin I have a quick question. We're nearing the end of this fic actually and I know for a fact the next bit is going to end of a bitch of a cliffhanger SO would you guys want me to just post it when it's done or would you rather me finish the fic and post at once? Obviously if I do post as soon as it's done though you don't have to read it right away I won't be offended. Just lemme know.
Also also, I'm considering some bonus material after this fic is done (some small bonus chapters, a look at my synopsis/outline, answering questions? ) so you guys can let me know if you'd be into that too. Okay I'm done now, thanks again for sticking with me so far guys ;w;
PS: For the second scene feel free to listen to Not Safe from the OFF soundtrack for added atmosphere.
La Muerte gazed around the dark, ash covered walls of the inside of the castle. With every carving she passed she noticed more and more dust. Honestly, how hard was it to keep a castle clean with magical powers?
"Xibalba?" She called out. "You better come out here."
"Yes, mi amor?"
She didn't notice when Xibalba had appeared next to her and turned to see him leaning under her hat.
"I figured you would have returned home after sending them all away."
"I did, for a bit, but there's something bugging me." She pulled his face closer as she lifted a hand and rested it on his cheek.
As expected his eyes melted into a haze. "And what's that, my dear?"
Her fingers trailed the patterns along his chin as they moved down. She leaned her face even closer and batted her eyes. Then as her fingers moved into his beard she suddenly clenched them into a fist and jerked his head down.
"What are you planning?" She shouted.
"What are you talking about?" Xibalba tried to pull free of her grip.
"You know very well what I'm talking about you..." La Muerte let go but sent him backwards with a flurry of petals.
"Maybe I don't. Perhaps you've just grown paranoid over these years." He wrapped his wings around himself.
"You hate losing. You should not have been that calm about María winning the wager."
"Nonsense, she won it fair and square. Besides I keep to keep that damn bullfighter down here so what did I really lose?" Xibalba rolled his staff around in his hands.
La Muerte flashed over to him. "Do not lie to me, husband. You're up to something. Why did you send my medal with them?"
"Because that's the best way to get Joaquín's memories back."
"Only the quickest." She pointed at him. "María could have done it herself in time."
"I'm not planning anything." The god grumbled before he melted away and vanished into the castle.
La Muerte growled before she flashed after him. She followed him down the hall until they wound up one one of his balconies.
"Your denial is too obvious." She narrowed her eyes as she landed next to him.
"Fine, let me be clear then. I'm not planning anything in regards to them."
Her eyes widened and she leaned back. "What?"
"The reason I wanted them to take that medal has nothing to do with them. Besides it's not a plan really, more like wishful thinking."
"If not them then who?"
"An old... friend of mine." His teeth grew sharp as he grinned.
La Muerte tilted her head and scanned any possible suspects. "Wait, you don't mean... how could that not involve them?"
"My only qualm now is with him, how they deal with it is none of my concern. He's gotten away scott free for too long."
"Scott free? He's suffered plenty Xibalba."
The gods wings fanned out and his grin widened. "Even if he has he doesn't know it. He needs a reminder that I'm not someone to be trifled with, just like that bullfighter."
She studied the glaring skulls in his eyes before she crossed her arms and turned away. "You've become even more cruel over these years, haven't you?"
"I- come now, mi amor." He warped around in front of her. "Surely even you think he has to pay dues for what happened."
La Muerte lowered her head so she wouldn't have to met his gaze. "That is too much Xibalba, and you know it. I'm going home."
He opened his mouth but by then she was gone. She warped from his castle to her own in a flash, quickly retreating to one of her private rooms. Her dress scraped along the floor as she drifted over to one of the windows. Everyone was still just as festive as ever, celebrating and holding their loved ones.
She shivered knowing what could happen if her medal fell into the wrong hands. Then she only shivered more when she recalled how it had been made.
One medal forged out of hatred, the other out of greed.
Xibalba's medal had been cruel, but perhaps even good for him when he made it. Condensing those poor forgotten souls together along with his spite created something so powerful but vile. Some more weak minded men went mad simply being in it's presence. Because of the spirits and souls the medal could protect and strengthen, but their hate and anger devoured most positive thoughts and dreams.
But her medal, she had tried to forget it.
It had been so long ago when she had been younger and foolish. It wasn't right for people to lose their family members in the second life too. La Muerte just wanted a way to save them. Digging into ancient magic she found a way.
And she made deals, so many deals, claiming she could carve a person into history forever if they agreed. It wasn't wrong either. However when their souls arrived in her land they became nothing more than monuments and statues. Their life and their own memories were forged into that wretched item.
It wasn't until it was done had she realized what she created. With her greed melded into it as well it wanted more. More life, more people to immortalize in memory alone, it wanted it all.
Thank goodness the other gods had banished it's use for so long. It allowed La Muerte to recover and forget about it.
Until her foolish husband had brought it back. Now there it was in the Land of the Living just waiting for it's opportunity.
She just prayed María would keep it safe.
The walls were green, again. It was always nothing but green walls with twisted halls that looped up into the air. Upside down staircases mocked him since they were out of reach and only one door could be found, locked.
But there was someone on the other side of it, banging away and shouting something. He couldn't understand a word of it, though. He thought it might have been his name a few times but it was impossible to tell.
Then there were the whispers bouncing all around him. Sometimes he could see faces appear in the walls but they would vanish a moment later. At this point he was used to it, how could it scare him now.
"What will we do with them?"
"They are of no concern."
"How dare they bring her here."
"I hate her."
Joaquín just stared blankly at the ceiling, or what he assumed was the ceiling. Maybe if he could focus long enough he could figure out what it all meant.
"This could be good."
"How?"
"All of this work will truly mean something."
"He shall see what we have taken from him."
"Revenge. Revenge. Revenge."
The banging on the door suddenly grew frantic. The floor shook and started to tear open around him. Eyes appeared in the cracks and black hands reached out trying to grab his legs.
Joaquín's heart stopped and he ran. A few of the hands tripped him up but he regained his footing and kept going. Still, no matter where he went arms burst from the ground or the walls around him. The whispers were almost deafening in his ears but he still couldn't fathom what they were saying.
With no where else to go he headed toward the door.
"Just you wait Joaquín." Once voice cut in. "Just you wait until you see what we've done."
He grabbed the doorknob but it was still locked. The voice on the other side was screaming but still too blocked out to hear. Who was it? Did they need help or were they trying to help him?
Something wet landed on his face. He glanced up to see the roof melting into tar which slid down the walls and started to flood the ground.
Hands wrapped around his legs. The second the floor was covered in tar it vanished and they dragged him down.
Joaquín struggled and tried to keep a grip on the door but slipped. More hands wrapped around him as they pulled him down deeper and deeper.
"We'll awaken you at some point. You will see. What we've done to what's so precious to you."
The only thing that crossed his mind now was María. His struggling grew but so did their grip.
"Leave her alone." He still reached for the door. "Just leave her alone."
"Foolish soldier boy."
"We weren't talking to you."
As Joaquín's head was pulled under the tar he jerked awake. However even though he was conscious he still couldn't see. Why was everything so dark? He lifted a hand up and felt warm rough skin.
"Chuy," He growled and tried to shove the pig off his face. "Come on buddy you can't sleep there."
The pig snorted and whined but finally stood and wandered to the other side of the bed.
Joaquín sighed and ran a hand down his face. It was dark out now and he was hoping he had managed to catch up on enough sleep. Still, getting some more couldn't hurt.
He rolled over and almost screamed when he got a face full of hair.
He shot up from the bed and saw María curled up next to him. Her hands dug deeply into the sleeves of Carlos' jacket.
"María?" He whispered.
She didn't seem to be sleeping but she didn't respond either. The fact she didn't have to breath anymore was making him even more nervous. It made him think she was dead.
He laughed to himself a bit as he looked outside. She was dead.
But did that mean she could sleep?
His hand reached out to her but he stopped. She started shaking and her arms moved down to her stomach.
Joaquín looked around the tent for Manolo, but was surprised when he didn't see the bull fighter anywhere. The two of them hadn't talked when he returned to the tent. María just asked for some songs and Manolo pushed Chuy off his lap and began to play. At some point during it all Joaquín had fallen asleep.
He couldn't stop the weight that was growing in his stomach. Jumping out of bed the chill from the cold night air hit him and he snatched up his cape. The medal flashed at him a few times but he just dropped it onto one of the crates before draping the material over his bare shoulders.
Outside the tent Plata was sleeping. Joaquín smiled at him and pulled down one of the blankets hanging near the tent. He tossed it over the horse and patted him a few times before he went back to his search.
Surely that god hadn't come and taken his friend away already.
But no, he spotted Manolo sitting next to the lake strumming his guitar. The water was dark but it glittered with the reflection of the moon and the stars. If it weren't for the patterns on his friend's uniform he would have blended right in.
Joaquín hesitated but stepped over to him. He didn't have the medal on him this time, and although it dropped his confidence to absolute zero at least he could manage his temper.
"Do you... mind if I join you?" Saying that was simple enough as he stood behind the guitarist.
"No." Manolo stared across the lake.
Joaquín took a deep breath to try and alleviate the weight on his chest before he sat down.
"It almost looks pretty at night." His friend strummed the guitar again and kept his eyes on the town.
"I barely remember what it used to look like now, to be honest."
"In the mornings it was brilliant." He plucked the strings fast to make it almost sound like raindrops. "When the sunrise would hit the buildings they would sparkle and light up. You were the one who showed me that."
"Did I?" Joaquín pressed his eyebrows together and tried to remember.
"Yeah, after we stayed out all night. My dad got so angry at us both for that." Manolo laughed.
There was a pause in the conversation. Joaquín felt the left side of his neck itching again. "Manolo I... wanted to apologize."
"It's all right, hermano. I should too."
"Not just that." He was rubbing his neck a lot harder than he should be. "For everything. For what I said to you after the snake got María. For forgetting you so easily-"
"It's all right." Manolo smiled at him. "We've both done a lot of things we aren't proud of, I think. You're right after all, it was selfish of me to throw my life away without thinking of anyone else. I tried to fix my mistake but I failed."
"And that's why you won't go back to the Land of the Remembered."
His eyes darted over to Joaquín a few times. "You never did tell me what I looked like to you."
The soldier shivered and pulled the cape closer around him. "I took off my eyepatch and you just... turned black. Not even solid, your body was almost like smoke and your eyes were so empty. There were these green glowing marks on you and..." He shivered again. "Thankfully you faded back to normal after a little while, but your eyes were still green."
"Hah, I hope I don't look that scary normally. Otherwise I don't know how María would stand it. What did she look like?"
"Different. She was glowing kind of, and had all these gold and rainbow marks on her skin. Her eyes were more yellow when they stopped being empty. I could see that medal from the start though."
"You could?"
"Yeah, it was a bright red under her coat. I felt like I was seeing an eye too but it was hard to focus long enough."
"I hate it."
"The medal? I thought it was a good thing."
Manolo snorted and lowered his guitar. "If a living person touches it, without your medal that is, it would kill them. Honestly I hate them both, just looking at yours gives me a headache. It's why I came out here."
"You can't sleep either?"
He shook his head. "We don't sleep."
"Huh? But María seemed to be when I left."
"Pretending perhaps? That or she could just be very tired. I don't think she's stopped fighting for the past six months."
Silence fell again as Joaquín thought about what she had done. Apparently those six months had gone by in a flash, at least in her head. Maybe she truly had been wandering in that wasteland for that long. He couldn't imagine it.
"Joa- ah, I'm sorry."
"It's okay." He sighed. "It's not so bad when it's you or María. It'll just take some getting used to."
"I just want to apologize again for what I said."
"It's like you said, we both were being stupid."
"True," Manolo smiled and leaned back. "But to be honest I was attacking you for a bunch of selfish reasons."
"Like?"
The bullfighter searched the lake again before he held his guitar. "When I was in the Land of the Forgotten I was trapped in a trance, having visions of what life would have been like if I hadn't existed. My mom was still alive, and I saw you marry María more times than I care to count."
"You did?" Joaquín couldn't even begin to picture the ceremony in his head. "Was... she happy?"
"You both were, though you had quite a few more scars on you. I think without me around that wager was never made and you were never given that medal in the first place."
"But I still became a hero?"
Manolo lifted his eyebrows and stared at him. "Why wouldn't you?"
Joaquín bit his lip and shook his head. "Never mind, you should continue."
Manolo plucked at his guitar again. "What can I say, seeing that over and over again... I was angry. I suppose jealous is a better word. Then I found out what happened in San Angel and... you stabbed me."
Joaquín started laughing but caught himself. "Yeah, sorry about that."
"I don't think your medal is helping, but it's not the reason I've been acting so stupid."
"Well, I don't think you need to worry about María" He leaned back. "She's still head over heels for you."
"I suppose I should count myself lucky for that considering the way I've been acting."
"Are you kidding?" The soldier laughed but it fell into a hollow sound. "That's nothing compared to what I've turned into."
One of the guitar strings snapped with a twang. Manolo shoved the instrument to the side as he turned.
"I know what you're going to say, so don't. Honestly today is the calmest I've been in a long time."
"Joaquín-"
"I don't know how detailed that book was but it's not just bandits, you know? There were people connected to them. After a while I stopped keeping them from hurting others. I let them get away with it. And what I did to all those bandits this morning..."
"Why did that happen?"
"They were leftovers from Chakal's army. There's a chance he's on the way here. I wanted to get stronger. I can't afford to lose when I do face him."
"You don't need... souls to win against him, hermano."
Joaquín tried to smile. "You don't get it do you. That medal's been carrying me since day one. I'm useless without it, physically and emotionally."
When he dared to meet Manolo's gaze he didn't expect such a sad expression. His eyes were wide, possibly forming tears, and his mouth hung open slightly.
"Manolo-"
"You're not useless!" The bullfighter grabbed his face with his icy hands. "Why would you even think that?"
The itchy spot on his neck was staring to burn but he tried to ignore it. "I was a coward, I ran away. I didn't have the courage to toss the medal and I don't have the courage to do it now. I can barely keep on my brave face without it sometimes, it feels like I'm suffocating."
"But you're still here. You're still alive with even less than I had. I... I don't know how you did it."
"I don't either..." Joaquín lifted a hand and held the one on his left cheek. His gaze never left Manolo's.
"I'm certain you have the courage, hermano. Even if you don't realize it."
"Hmph, never thought there'd be a day when you were trying to boost my ego."
The bullfighter rolled his eyes. "Ah, there's the Joaquín I know."
"Miss me?" He actually managed a grin and tightened his grip on Manolo's hand.
"Yes."
The serious response caught him off guard. His gaze darted around for a moment and eventually fell to the hand still on his cheek. "You're really cold you know that?"
"Sorry," Manolo lowered that hand to his shoulder. "Wish I could do something about that."
"Well you have this now it seems." Joaquín tugged at the black scarf.
"Bisabuela made it for me. It's all I really have now."
"Damn, this conversation takes a sad turn no matter what we do."
"Honestly, what do you expect us to talk about?"
"I don't know. I just kind of miss when we'd go out drinking and wake up the whole neighborhood by singing too loudly."
"Me too."
Joaquín just noticed he was still holding Manolo's hand. He lowered it and stared at it, studying the joints. A part of him expected them to turn black.
"There's one last thing that's bothering me." Manolo said.
"Huh?"
"What's happening to your neck?"
Joaquín dropped Manolo's hand and put his to where the itching was coming from. It was still burning, perhaps even more so. "I'm not sure, do you see something?"
"It looked like it was turning grey." He lifted his hand back up and a cold finger pressed against his neck.
The burning suddenly increased and a sharp pain shot up to his eye. Joaquín gasped but something caught in his throat and he coughed. Something slimy and bitter swept over his tongue and slid past his lips. He tried to catch it in his hand but it was already dripping down his chin.
"Joaquín?"
He pulled his hand back to see it stained with the same inky substance that came from his eye.
"What is that?"
Joaquín spat more of it onto the dirt. "Tar? I think. Something like that. First time it's come out of my mouth though."
"But why?"
"Maybe taking in all those souls had a bigger effect than I realized." Rubbing the spot on his neck again he could feel the skin was drying out. "You touching it doesn't help."
Manolo narrowed his eyes. "You have to get rid of that medal soon."
"I'm sure it's fine-"
"Don't."
The soldier sighed. "All we can do right now is hope Chakal shows up then." He tried to wipe the tar from his lips but it just smeared everywhere. "Ugh, can you dig out a cloth from my tent? There should be plenty of spare ones in there."
"Yeah," Manolo put his guitar on his back before he stood up and headed off.
Joaquín waited until he vanished inside before he leaned over the edge of the lake. He lifted his eyepatch and stared at his reflection. It was hard to make out in the dark, but he could see the spot on his neck turning black and even rotting away. The destructive mark spread around up to his jaw and then down to his shoulders and even his lungs.
This couldn't be good, but he wasn't about to let Manolo figure that out.
"Ay hermano, you should restock these. This is the cleanest one I could find."
Joaquín snapped the eyepatch back on before he turned and took the cloth. It already had plenty of black smudges but he ignored it and dipped on end in the water.
Manolo sat back down as he tried to wipe away the greasy substance. After a few moments of switching between the damp and the dry side he turned to look at him.
"Is that better?"
Manolo burst out laughing. "If you want it to look like you have a black beard."
"Damn, what I wouldn't give for some soap right now."
"I agree, I'm glad my sense of smell dulled out when I died."
Joaquín shoved the guitarist, surprised at how light he was now. Manolo crashed onto the dirt but he was still laughing.
"Guys?"
They both turned at the sound of María's voice.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Nightmare." Joaquín confessed.
"I just wanted some air." Manolo said.
"What happened to your face?" She tilted her head.
"Oh, nothing it-"
"He coughed up a bunch of tar." Manolo cut in.
"Why did you tell her that?"
"What good is it going to do to cover it all up right now?"
"Okay fine but you could make it sound like it's not a big deal at least."
"Isn't that a big deal?" María stepped over and crouched down.
"I don't know. I feel fine." What a lie that was. "Apart from getting it off my face."
She rolled her eyes and took the cloth. "Hold still."
He prayed his face didn't turn as red as it felt when she ran the damp cloth over his skin. His gaze darted between her focused eyes and Manolo who just watched them. Thankfully not a single sign of anger crossed his friend's face.
"Oh no," María sighed. "I think you got some in your mustache."
"That's fine." Joaquín shrugged.
Her hands froze. They both stared at him in shock.
"What?"
"These must be dark times if you don't care about your mustache, hermano." Manolo smiled but his eyes looked down.
"Um, well, you know you... stop worrying so much after you get uh, blood in it for the twentieth time."
Neither of them responded to that as María got rougher with the cloth. He tried to protest and even pull away but her grip tightened on his jaw.
It took a lot longer than he would have liked, but his complaining stopped when Manolo pulled out his guitar again. Somehow the quiet tunes mixed with his rich voice made him relax even more than it used to.
"There." María gave the cloth a final dab before she let go. "Much better."
Joaquín ran a hand over his mouth. "Thanks."
"Now come on." She tugged on his arm. "You still need to sleep."
"I don't-"
"We'll keep the nightmares away this time, right Manolo?"
"I'll do my best." The guitarist stood. "But try and bury that medal of yours for now yeah?"
Once again he gave into their demands. The medal, which was still on the crate, was soon covered in his cape. He wound up shoving it as far into the corner as possible. When he jumped on the bed Chuy complained about being woken up. He even started arguing with the pig until María climbed on and pulled his head onto her lap. The soldier thought Manolo would protest but he said nothing. He just sat on the ground and started playing again.
Soon between the quiet music, María's hands in his hair and Chuy pressed up against his side he slipped away.
And for once he dreamed of nothing but laying under the warm sun on the roof of the church.
María studied Joaquín's sleeping face for what seemed the fiftieth time. Distracting herself with it was a far better alternative than to what happened earlier.
She could see the sun rising outside now. Manolo had left soon after the soldier fell asleep claiming he "needed air" again. María wasn't unaware of the presence of the other medal but it clearly wasn't effecting her as much as it was him. Sometimes when he'd look at it he would cringe and turn away.
Perhaps it was because she was wearing the counterpart, but that didn't seem to be any easier to deal with.
While laying there with Joaquín sleeping next to her the voice showed up. She knew it had to be the medal but tried to ignore it anyway. It started out as nothing but simple reminders about her past but they got unsettling. "You better write this down, you can't let them forget, don't you want to remember this forever?"
They did fade out, of course, but only when she was suddenly having vivid flashbacks. It was almost like she was dreaming with everything drawn out in extreme detail. The day she had let the pigs out, when she traveled home from Spain, and finally to when she died.
And that was even worse than her dream about it before. This time she felt it. The sword piercing her stomach, the air leaving her lungs, she felt all of it. She even remembered what she was thinking at that moment.
I'm sorry, Joaquín.
She had tried to say those words to calm his horrified expression, but they never left her lips. She didn't want him to feel guilty. It had been her own foolish mistake that got her killed.
Because she remembered now. Chakal was heading for Joaquín. He barked an order to rip off the medal so he could deliver a final blow. She had seen Joaquín struggling with the sheer number of bandits, so she tried to stop their leader head on. In the end she couldn't manage it alone, but she refused to just step aside.
She remembered now.
When she finally snapped out of her trance both Joaquín and Manolo were missing. She had been worried, but then relieved to find them getting along just fine next to the lake. There was no telling what they had discussed, as long as they didn't fight like that anymore.
Joaquín let off a strange sigh and tilted his head. María returned to running her hand from his hair down to his jaw. Soon the muscles in his forehead relaxed.
The flap of the tent shook and she held back a panicked shout. Manolo stepped inside, tightening the scarf around his face.
"He still asleep?"
María nodded. "How are you feeling?"
"The farther away I am from that thing the better." He glanced over to the crates. "But the bandits started waking up and I figured it'd be a bad idea to run into them without Joaquín around. What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that medal hasn't done anything strange?"
"A few headaches and flashbacks, not much else." Her fingers trailed along the outside of Joaquín's eyepatch then down to the grey spot on his neck. "This is strange but I hope Chakal comes. The sooner we trash both of these medals the better."
"I can't argue there." Manolo turned back to look at the sunrise. "Should we wake him up soon?"
"Only if his men come looking for him in my opinion. Feels like he hasn't sleep right in, well, months."
Chuy seemed to snort in agreement as he wiggled his way onto Joaquín's chest.
María laughed and petted him. "I'm glad you were watching out for him. I have a feeling if you weren't we would have already lost him."
The pig tried to lean into her touch and eventually stood up, his hooves digging into Joaquín's ribs.
The soldier gasped and woke up with a start. He shoved the pig off before he sat up.
"Damn it Chuy, how many times have I told you-"
The pig snorted and slammed his head into Joaquín's chest.
"Ow!" The soldier shoved him back.
"Hey! Both of you cut it out." María stuck out an arm between them.
Chuy snorted but hopped off the bed, trotting over to Manolo.
"Good, you're awake." The bullfighter crouched down to pet the pig. "The bandits are already running around."
"Of course they are." Joaquín rubbed his eye. "They didn't cause you any trouble did they?"
"Not yet, I've been avoiding them."
"Did you want to get some more sleep?" María offered.
"No, that's more sleep than I've had in weeks. I think I'll be fine." He reached up as far as he could.
María couldn't stop herself from watching the muscles in his shoulders tighten. Thankfully she was distracted when his stomach growled.
"Hear that Chuy? It sounds like you when you snore." Manolo smiled.
"Shut up." Joaquín climbed off the bed and pushed his back forward. "I'm assuming you guys don't eat?"
"I think we can, we just don't have to." María shrugged.
"Trust me you aren't missing anything, not around here at least." He stepped past Manolo and headed outside. "Come on Chuy, breakfast time!"
The pig hopped up and dashed outside.
"How about we spar a bit after?" María said.
Joaquín peeked back inside the tent. "What for?"
"Get ready? You don't have anything else to do right now, do you?"
"Well I better make sure the bandits don't get stir crazy, but sure. I'll meet you guys around here a little later." With that he headed off, Chuy close on his heels soon followed by Plata.
"Sparring? Really?" Manolo brushed the dirt off his knees.
"What?" She climbed off the bed. "I may have been fighting monsters but what were you doing for six months. I think we could all use some practice before running into a fight."
"We're both dead and he has that medal."
"The less he relies on that medal the better." María fetched their swords from the corner of the tent. "And we're not free from getting damaged either."
Manolo looked like he was going to protest but just caught the sword María tossed his way.
"Come on, time to see if you can actually use these." She grinned and tossed him the other.
The pair of them practiced as far off from the camp as possible. María had to admit while Manolo wasn't the best and landing a blow his footwork was exceptional. It had been a long time since someone had dodged her attacks that easily.
"All right fancy feet." She pulled the sword back and tugged at the knot that held her skirt up. "I've got something new for you."
"And what's that?"
The red material hit Manolo in the face and covered his head.
"Teach me the best way to use that. You should have some kind of idea right?"
He pulled the skirt off his face and she was disappointed when his cheeks didn't turn red. "María these are bandits, not bulls."
"So? Certainly I could use it for something."
"Sorry about the wait guys." Joaquín ran over with his uniform fitted back on. "The bandits were being nosy and-"
Manolo suddenly tossed the cloth into his face. While Joaquín tried to take it off he was hit with a punch square in the chest. He didn't shout in pain until he hit the ground and the skirt slid off.
"Manolo!" María snapped.
"Well that's one way to use it. You need to work on your footing, hermano. I didn't punch you that hard."
He extended a hand and Joaquín glanced at it with a forced grin.
"Don't be like that Manny, I think you underestimate your strength." The soldier took Manolo's hand and stood up.
María would have shouted a warning but it was too late. The second Joaquín had his footing he grabbed the bullfighter's collar and threw him over his head. Manolo's scream was cut off when his back slammed onto the dirt.
"Really guys?" She darted over to Manolo and helped him sit up. He clutched at his side, cringing, but smiling.
"Now is there any particular reason you're throwing..." Joaquín picked up the skirt and stared at it. His eyebrows pressed together but then shot back up. "Oh, uh," He glanced over at María, his cheeks going dark. "This is yours." He held it out and looked at the sky.
She smiled. "Yes it is. I was trying to see if it would be a useful weapon in a fight."
"I vote yes." Manolo stood up. "If nothing else it seems your legs would be distracting enough."
She rolled her eyes as she snatched her skirt back. "Like you can talk, wearing those tights. I'm certain even most of the bandits will end up staring."
"Pardon?"
María laughed and got back into a stance. She raised her sword in one hand and held onto the cloth in the other. "Never mind, are you up for a bit of fencing Joaquín?"
"With or without the cape?" Joaquín smiled and drew his own sword.
She started to wrap it around her waist but then glanced up. "Are you going to keep your eyepatch on?"
"I... well I usually don't fight without but... I'd rather not take it off around you guys."
"Good, you should learn anyways." She snapped the material out and folded it up. Then she wrapped it around her head making sure it was as it covered her left eye. "Now it's even."
"Sounds like you're underestimating me."
"Well, Manolo's not wrong about your footwork to be honest."
"Fine, but if I start kicking your ass you're taking it off."
"Now that's no way to talk to a lady." She tapped her sword against his.
"Is there a polite way of putting it?"
María narrowed her eye and struck. Joaquín blocked it without his gaze leaving hers.
There was no way she was just going to let him show off.
So off they went, metal striking metal as they seemed to be evenly matched at the moment. While she did her best not to show it, fighting with only one eye was proving to be difficult. More than a few times her sword missed it's mark. Joaquín probably noticed but said nothing as she noticed him doing the same thing.
"You better not be going easy on me." She said.
"I was about to say the same thing."
His sword struck harder now and she almost lost her grip. While she knew she couldn't match his strength she decided to counter with her speed. Her blows were quick, deliberate, and with other martial arts training her footwork was throwing him off.
Eventually her sword slipped past his defense and hovered next to his cheek.
"See? You need to work on your footing." Her chest hovered a few inches from his.
"You adapted to having one eye pretty quick. How did you manage that?"
She lowered her sword back to her side. "Turning my head mostly, doesn't feel good on my neck though." Her gaze fell as she tried to release the strain. Her eyes studied his uniform which was so different now from when she had arrived home. Any medals that had been decorating it were gone now. Small holes and tears were now scattered around the material instead.
He must have noticed because he started dusting it off. "What is it? Did I leave crumbs all over it?"
"No, sorry, it just... looks different without all your medals."
Joaquín cringed and she bit her lip. Bad idea.
"So is it my turn?" Manolo cut in. "I think I want payback for that cheap shot."
"It was just as cheap as yours, but fine."
"Here." María took the cloth off her head and handed it to him. "It's only fair."
Manolo frowned at it but complied. As soon as it was fitted over his head he suddenly put his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest.
"Manny what-"
"Oh no, I'm Joaquín. Vigilant soldier with the most amazing mustache in all of Mexico!" He pretended to stroke at one.
María tried not to laugh as he even mimicked Joaquín's walk.
"Really? So childish." When the soldier snapped the skirt material off his head she was afraid he'd be angry. Instead he just snapped it out and waved it. "I'm Manolo, the most troubled bullfighter in all of Mexico." He leaned back and put an arm to his forehead. "Por qué, María."
She couldn't stop the laughter now and it only grew with Manolo's pout.
"I do not sound like that."
Joaquín gasped. "Oh no, an angry bull. It's time to dance." He held the cape out to his side, looking more like he was trying to do ballet rather than bullfight.
"Oh you want an angry bull?" Manolo lifted his swords. "Fine then."
The soldier laughed and lifted his own sword.
"Manolo wait the-"
It was too late, their swords clanged together over and over again. Even with Manolo's clear vision and extra weapons Joaquín was holding his own.
She rolled her eyes. "Really guys?"
It's no good to be so unfocused.
The voice cut in out of nowhere and she stumbled back in surprise. She did her best to focus on the boys practicing but her vision was going hazy.
Are you sure they should be doing this? What if they fight again? They have in the past so many times. And over you no less.
The voice was loud but still felt soft in her head, sweet even, like it was lulling her to sleep.
Oh but it's a love story to remember right? And look at the reputation that boy has built for himself, even with nothing to his name.
Joaquín's face flashed into her mind several times.
Shut-up. She thought. Go away. What do you want from me?
For you to remember dearest, for them to remember, for you to be remembered forever.
Something pricked the skin on her scalp. Then it erupted into pain like something was trying to claw it's way into her skull.
Wouldn't it be easier if it ended soon? Then you'd still mostly have good memories. People would remember you fondly. Isn't that so much better than staying here?
She wasn't sure if she was screaming at this point. Her vision of the camp was gone now. All she could see was flashes from her childhood, of Spain. Suddenly one memory struck hard and she felt like she was falling for a moment.
"Hey María." A much younger Joaquín lifted himself onto her balcony. "Psst!"
"What are you doing here? I told you I'm grounded." She said the moment she opened the window.
"I know. It's been a boring day and I uh, well I wanted to give you this." He handed her a sheet of paper.
It was a poem, a very childish one no doubt, but still sweet. The rhyme on it was sloppy, but the message was clear. It was trying to describe how happy he felt when he spent time with her.
When she looked up to thank him he was gone.
You forgot that poem? How could you do that.
Shut-up, let me out.
I just want you to remember.
I said out! She screamed it in her head.
"María!"
Her vision returned in a flash, the sunlight overhead almost blinding her. As everything came back into focus she saw Joaquín and Manolo both leaning over her. The soldier's false green eye was studying her up and down.
"What happened? Are you okay?" Manolo gently lifted her up to sit.
"Sorry, the medal was acting up." She put a hand to her head, her brain still pounding.
"Yeah I... saw that." Joaquín muttered. "This... thing with weird eye looked like it was trying to rip your head open."
"Lovely," she muttered. "Did I just faint?"
"No," Manolo ran a hand over her cheek. "You just stared ahead and your eyes turned completely red. We guessed it was the medal but..."
"I'm alright." She put her hand over his. "Let's get back to practice. The more I have to focus on the better."
Both of them nodded, but as soon as they stood up a rush of footsteps had them turning around.
A very young bandit stood there, his legs shaking.
"What's going on?" Joaquín put the tip of his blade on the ground.
"It's- he-" He pointed out past the camp.
"Out with it."
"Chakal is coming!"
María felt herself go cold and a familiar ache in her middle return.
"No one is to engage." Joaquín put his sword away as he stomped toward his tent. "This fight is between me and him, for now."
"Joaquín wait!" María scrambled to her feet. "Joaquín!"
But the soldier just kept walking without sparing her a single glance.
The aching moved up to her chest. A few moments ago things had almost been like old times. What happened to him?
See what happens when you forget?