This one was SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE.
Enjoy!
Wufei had been meditating long enough in his estimation, so he rose to look over the edge of the cliff once again. He couldn't help the relief he felt to see that the man in black still climbing, and having made some good progress, though he was not yet within reach of the top. At this distance, he could make out nothing of the man's features beneath the black mask, but a long braid, chestnut and thick, swung from beneath the black wrapping covering his head.
"It seems rather slow going," Wufei commented, loud enough to be heard.
"No kidding," grunted back the man. "Would it kill you to leave me alone so I don't smash my head open back down there?"
"Sorry," Wufei was genuinely abashed. "I only meant to offer encouragement."
"If you wanna help me get out of this, you could find something productive to do. There anymore rope up there? Make use of that. Or leave me alone."
Wufei considered the rude words but let them pass. Honestly, the man was more than a little busy. He could be forgiven for terseness. Instead, he replied, "I do have rope I can offer you, but the fact that I am merely waiting for you to reach the top to kill you may not make you inclined to trust me."
"Um...no, probably not."
"I promise I will not try to kill you until you reach the top," Wufei offered.
"Thanks, but I'll just get there on my own, okay?"
"I could give you my word as a warrior."
"No good," the man grunted as a piece of the cliff broke free beneath one foot and he had to scramble to keep his hold. "I've known too many warriors who don't know one word from another."
Wufei drew himself up, even though the man in black beneath him could not see the salute for what it was. "I swear on the legacy and honor of my kin, the Long Clan, that you will reach the top alive, or may my ancestors shame and punish my bloodline for all time."
The man in black looked up, eyes piercing. "Throw me the rope."
Wufei gathered what remained of the rope from the anchor of his elaborate setup and unwound it as far as he dared. Then he brought it back to the edge and lowered it carefully. Between the two of them, the man in black was soon at the top, but he had only gotten his boots under him when he moved to draw a blade.
"Wait. I am honor-bound to duel you, but we can wait until you are ready." Wufei raised his hands placatingly.
"Thanks for that," the stranger nodded shortly, making his way to a low rock and dumping out stones from his socks. "Why are you bound to duel me, anyway? I've got better stuff to do, if you don't mind."
"I'm afraid I do mind," Wufei closed his eyes. "It is nothing to do with you. I am under contract to serve the man who led us here, and he has ordered that you not be permitted to interfere."
"Ah. Well, I could tell you that I have no plans to interfere but that would be a pretty bad lie and I don't lie. Thanks for being a good sport about the rope, though." He began stretching his arms and shoulders thoroughly.
"I do not mean to pry," Wufei said after a moment, "but if I may ask, do you happen to have six fingers on your right hand?"
The man in black wordlessly held up a right hand of five fingers. "Do you always begin conversations this way? That's new, even for me."
"My clan was slaughtered by a man with six fingers. I would know his face if I saw him again, but it becomes tedious to attempt to describe him over and over when I could simply look at your hand. Your hair-color isn't quite right anyway, but some things do change with time."
"I guess." But the stranger moved aside to make space and gestured, and Wufei found himself settling in beside the man he intended to kill. "So your whole clan...? I'm sorry."
"The Long Clan was known throughout the land for power, prosperity, and honor. We forged the greatest weapons known to man, carried the secrets of the ancient magicians, and lent our skills to noble causes. We had many enemies, and many allies. And to our great suffering, we failed to distinguish one from the other."
He drew his dao and held it out. "This was my father's sword. It was to be passed to me on my day of claiming manhood, but the first blood it tasted that day was his. The six-fingered man and his allies attacked our home while we were celebrating, and by tradition only I carried a true blade that day. I defended my father, my Clan, with all the skill I had, but it was not enough. I never knew why the six-fingered man came or what he wanted, only that it meant all our deaths. When the sun set, only I was still alive, and only barely."
"How old were you?" the man in black asked softly.
"I was eleven. I was the youngest man of the Clan, and I swore on that day that I would dedicate my life to achieving vengeance for my people. So the next time I find that coward, I will not fail. I will face him as a man, and he will perish on my blade as my father did. I will look in his eyes and tell him 'I am Chang Wufei, of the Long Clan. You killed my people. Prepare to die.'"
"And...you've done nothing but prepare yourself for that day since then?"
"Well, there's only so much preparing you can do before the time comes to actually fight your battle," Wufei shook his head, "and after more than ten years, I am beginning to wonder if I will ever find him. I took the job with G to gain passage to these lands in the hope of uncovering some trace of him to follow. I hope you understand I am not sympathetic to G's cause."
"No, I can understand that," the man in black seemed to shake himself and rose. "I hope you find the guy someday. He seems like the kind of person who would be improved with some steel through the throat." He quirked a sudden smile.
"Are you prepared, then?"
"Whether I am or not, you've been way more than fair. And I'm on a schedule here." He drew the blade at his hip.
Wufei closed his grip on his sword with regret. "You seem a strong man, and were I not honor-bound to defeat you I would regard you cordially. I am sorry to kill you."
"You're strong, too, and if I weren't in a hurry I'd offer to help you out on your little quest. I'm sorry to die."
Their eyes met and a spark of challenge flashed between them.
Wufei took his stance. "Begin."
Wufei expected the usual duel one-on-one against a Western swordsman, even an excellent one. They had all studied the same masters and all approached battle in the same way. Wufei had done his own studying in the time he had been away from home, and he knew the exact strategies these Westerners would employ against him in this scenario: Bonetti's defense, Thibault, Capo Ferro, Agrippa. They were difficult strategies, the kind only true masters would employ, but they were at least predictable.
The man in black turned out to be anything but.
First of all, the man would not stay still. He would block one of Wufei's attacks, but rather than settling into a stance to return the blow, he would spin away, evading and dodging, the braid floating behind him like a dance partner. But when his endless movement carried him within range of Wufei's blade, then the real swordsman emerged from the folds of a fierce, wild smile. These were not the strategies of the Western masters.
"You are wonderful," he found himself admitting as he was backed neatly into a corner.
"Thank you. I've worked hard to become so."
"I admit that you are better than I am," Wufei felt dark satisfaction seep into his heart.
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because I know something you don't know. I am not left-handed, and I am not a classical swordsman!"
In one move, Wufei moved the dao to his right hand. Breaking away from the man in black for a moment, he adjusted his stance and fell into the dragon position. He had been dueling as a Westerner, but now he was in his element, embedded in the fire of his people, his tradition. Eastern sword-fighting was different in every way, but most particularly in its speed.
Like lightning he attacked.
"You are amazing," the man in black breathed as he narrowly evaded having his chest impaled.
"I ought to be after giving my life to this," Wufei returned with pride. He sliced so close to the man that a few strands of brown hair slipped from the swinging braid.
"But there's something I should tell you," the man in black managed as he tucked one foot into what had probably once been a wall and was long collapsed, leveraging himself upwards and momentarily out of range in an elegant leap. He landed comfortably on top of the rock formation, towering above his opponent.
"What's that?"
"I'm not left-handed either, and I am also not a classical swordsman."
The man in black switched hands and swung his sword in a broad arc. For the first time Wufei recognized it – it was not a Western sword at all, but a talwar, a sabre with a curved blade. He absently wondered how he had failed to notice it before, especially considering he had sat next to it, not to mention having blocked its attacks many times. It was an unacceptable lapse, but he had no more time to consider it for the man in black leaped at him once more.
The man in black returned to the level ground and twisted his body, taking up a position more reminiscent of the Far East than anything Wufei had seen in years. With joy at combat with a true and honorable opponent, he met the flashing blade with all his power. But after a few strikes, he realized this was not a fight he could win. Not because the man in black was more skilled – they were probably comparable – but because he was invested in the fight. Wufei was battling because a man he did not respect had given him a distasteful order. Whatever the man in black wanted with the prince's betrothed, it went much deeper.
In the end, Wufei was wise enough to recognize that his will was simply not great enough to succeed.
A moment after that realization, the man in black struck his dao from his hand and it spun away across the stones, though thankfully not over the cliff.
"Who are you?" he asked in sudden astonishment. He had not been so neatly disarmed in years.
"It doesn't matter," the masked man replied.
"I must know."
"Perhaps some other time," and there was a wry smile there. "But what to do with you now?"
"Kill me quickly. You have defeated me with honor." Wufei dropped to his knees and dipped his head down low. "It is your right."
"No," and the voice that spoke was oddly soft. "No, I don't kill unless I have to. Besides you have something worth living for. But also I can't let you follow me from here."
Wufei hissed in surprise at a sting in his shoulder and the world swam with blackness. As he felt himself crumbling to the ground, he heard the voice above him say, "Please understand that I hold you in the highest respect, Chang Wufei. May you find the vengeance you seek."
And the world vanished.
-==OOO==-
"...'I'm not left-handed either, and I am also not a classical swordsman.'"
"Oh good!"
"Good?"
"I don't want him to lose!"
"No? Why not?"
"'Cause he's obviously the good guy, silly. And even if G is the only real bad guy, I still want him to win!"
"Do you want to hear how the fight ends or not?"
"Yes sir."
"Good girl. Now be quiet."