When I was originally planning "The Drifter and The Duelist," I intended to skim over the episode and not have Leopara involved... but she is sorceress to the King and supposed to advise him, and as I was writing it happened naturally that she would go with him.
What they were waiting for, apparently, was for Tygra and Panthro to figure out how to integrate the Book of Omens with the Thundertank's navigational systems.
Without blowing the tank up, preferably.
Every attempt sent sparks flying and smoke wafting. At one point, a panel completely popped off the tank in a flurry of sound and movement.
"This is going to take all day." Lion-O groused, rife with impatience and frustration.
"They're doing their best." Leopara replied, barely glancing away from the small light she was cradling in her hands. "It's not like the book came with an instruction manual."
Lion-O sighed. "I just can't stand waiting around, not doing anything while Mumm-Ra could be getting closer to the other stones at any moment!"
At this proclamation, Leopara looked up at him. "Lion-O, it hasn't even been a full day, and he couldn't even find the Book of Omens on his own."
He wilted, all the tension and frustration leaving him. "You're right." he admitted.
"If you're so eager," Cheetara's lovely voice called, "-we're in need of supplies, Lion-O."
Lion-O perked up. "Supplies?"
Cheetara stopped her approach in front of them, hand on her hip. In her other hand, an empty backpack dangled so low it nearly brushed the ground. "We lost all our blankets and cloaks when we were captured in the Sand Sea. If we're going to continue traveling, we need to replace them."
He straightened, all but puffing his chest with pride. "I can get the supplies." he said like an overeager cub rather than a king.
Part of Leopara found this to be quite amusing, if a little cringeworthy; another part of her found it depressing.
Cheetara turned her pink gaze onto her. "You should go with him, Leopara."
"You're not coming with me?" Lion-O balked. Leopara gave him a sharp look, crossing her arms. "Er… not that I don't want you to come along, I just thought…" he trailed off hopelessly.
You thought Cheetara was going with you. she thought sharply. The thought was undercut with a more melancholic one, Am I that disappointing?
Cheetara shook her head. "I'm going to stay here. The Wilytwins have been making good progress in their training." She gestured towards the kittens in question. "I would like to continue that while they're eager."
Lion-O recomposed himself. "Alright. We'll try not to be gone too long- just long enough to find a town or village, and get those supplies."
"You'll need this." Cheetara tossed the backpack into Lion-O's arms with a smile. And then, she looked at Leopara. "Keep him out of trouble for me."
Leopara blinked at her, once, then twice. "I'll try." she finally said.
The lush, green jungle eventually thinned out into parched, dry land and leafless trees. Every step caused a small burst of dust to cloud the area around their feet in spite of the dull, yellowing grass.
Looming ahead of them on the road was a towering wall- one that shone coldly in the afternoon light. On a closer look, Leopara realised it was made entirely out of swords and spears, thousands of them bound and woven together. Framed by the blades and looming above the entrance, a skull with fangs glowered down at them with dark eyes. A single sword pierced through the top of the skull, and another two blades cut in behind it at angles to cross each other.
A crow cawed as they made their approach.
Her fur stood on end. "I feel… a lot of aggression here, Lion-O. Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"I've heard stories about towns like this," Lion-O said, "-just never seen one before."
The crow perched on one of the blades cawed again, once, twice, thrice- and a four time, flapping its wings at them aggressively
Snarf screeched and clung his master's leg, clearly as unsettled as she was. Lion-O looked down at the kitty-pet with affection. "Don't worry, Snarf." He looked up at Leopara, who still had not been assuaged and felt rather snubbed. "We'll get what we need and leave."
It wasn't just blankets anymore. They needed materials to repair the tank now, too.
Thanks, Tygra. she thought grousely.
She could have been swimming in the most beautiful river she had the pleasure of lying eyes on, but instead she was here… standing in front of a town with a wall made entirely out of bladed weapons and spite.
"Think you could lend a hand, friend?" a gentle voice asked, so quiet Leopara barely heard it over her internal lament. She and Lion-O both glanced around, confused. "Up here." the voice said a little more strongly.
Leopara turned her gaze back up.
There. A rabbit in a ratty coat and vest, hanging from one of the blades. She cringed internally, with a spike of anxiety.
"I seem to have snagged myself again." he drawled calmly, as though he was not flapping in the breeze while stuck to a wall of swords. Like it was just a small, everyday inconvenience.
Maybe it is.
"What are y…" Leopara gave Lion-O a sharp look. "Uh, who are you?" Lion-O asked more tactfully.
"Just a drifter, I suppose."
This was as good an answer as any for Lion-O, apparently. He took a step back, tensing and then leapt forward in a smooth, athletic movement.
Leopara's heart leapt into her throat.
"Lion-O…!" she hissed, watching him scale the swords neatly- expecting at any moment for him to slip and cut himself, then slip some more and…
He carefully unhooked the Drifter and tossed him behind him about as effectively as throwing an autumn leaf- which the rabbit very much resembled with his orange scarf, red vest, and otherwise brown clothes and hair, slowly, unevenly, falling towards the ground before last-minute swooping to land on the fence. The Drifter settled there comfortably, head propped up on his elbow.
Lion-O finally leapt down once the Drifter was landed, and Leopara's heart followed suit, returning to the place it belonged in her chest. She took a deep breath and let it out as a heavy sigh.
As he rejoined her and faced the rabbit, Leopara scrutinised his hands and the ground he had walked on, looking for even a drop of blood.
What was he thinking, jumping onto swords? He could have hurt himself!
Her blood boiled a little with the thought. Did he not care?
"Thanks for the assist." the Drifter said amiable, eyes closed and grinning with a long stalk of wheat dangling from his mouth.
"Maybe you can return the favor. We're looking for supplies." Lion-O said.
"Well, find them somewhere else." Leopara's brief vindication was short-lived, as the Drifter continued speaking. "This is a swordsman's town, stranger, and they duel for keeps. Leave," he rolled away from them. "-before it's too late." He quickly rolled back. "Or don't. I don't care." And then, he rolled away once again.
Lion-O drew the Sword of Omens, admiring his blade as he proclaimed, "I can handle myself alright."
The Drifter chuckled. "This town loves guys like you," he rolled back around to face them, "-swaggering around with your fancy sword, thinking you can't lose." A feeling of disquiet settled more heavily on Leopara. "But you will. They all do."
The pleased look on Lion-O's face vanished.
It wasn't gone nearly long enough. "This is more than a fancy sword." He held it out towards the Drifter for him to see. Leopara's blood began to boil again. "It's the Sword of Omens and with it, I never lose."
"Just like I said, take my advice and blow on out of here. Or don't. I don't care."
"I care." Leopara snapped, snatching the Sword of Omens out of Lion-O's unsuspecting hand. "What are you doing?" she whispered. "You can't go waving the Sword of Omens around like that- have you forgotten what's in it?"
Lion-O balked, looking surprised by her outburst. And then, he looked ashamed.
He gently reached out to take his sword back, and she surrendered it. Their hands brushed in the movement- his quietness felt like a cool balm against her fur, calming her.
They looked back to the fence- the Drifter, however, was gone.
Lion-O sheathed the Sword of Omens. "He was… strange."
"He was sensible." Leopara retorted, turning away. "There's bound to be another village nearby. We should look for supplies there."
"There's a town right here." Lion-O said, gesturing behind himself. "I can handle myself."
Leopara paused, and looked back at him and Snarf. He stared straight at her, unwavering. Snarf stood near his feet, looking back and forth between them. "You can't be serious, Lion-O." she finally said.
With offense, he bristled. "I am. Why go looking for another town when we can get our supplies here?"
Leopara floundered for a moment for a good response- anything other than, "The Sword of Omens may be powerful, but you're far from a master swordsman and we've barely won or survived all of our battles lately."
"This town is bad news, Lion-O… we shouldn't risk losing the sword at all." was what she settled on.
He scoffed. "You think someone will try to steal it?"
He said it with such disbelief that it- it galled her.
It was her turn to bristle. "No, I worry that you'll be reckless and you'll lose it!" Her words came out louder and more forceful than she meant, but it was too late; she had already said them and Lion-O was already reacting.
"Reckless?" he balked again, expression quickly turning angry. "When was the last time I was reckless?" he demanded.
"You just leapt onto a wall made out of blades!" she gestured widely at it, but Lion-O didn't even glance towards the coldly glinting steel. "And before that, the Cloud Peak Mines? You leapt without looking and Panthro had to save both of us from the lizards that ambushed you!" she crossed her arms.
As angry as she was, she didn't dare accuse him of being reckless for being distracted- for allowing himself to be distracted- by Cheetara either time during their battle with Mumm-Ra.
It would… be over the line.
He scoffed again. "If Panthro had obeyed my command, I wouldn't have needed sa-" he paused, like his words were catching up to him. "I didn't need saving! I had it completely under control." he asserted.
She raised her hands only to make angry air quotes. "'Drop your weapons! ...please?'" she imitated him. "How was that having it under control? They were about to kill you!"
"I had the Sword of Omens."
"But you didn't use it, did you?" she crossed her arms again.
Lion-O's hackles raised and he growled; anger frustration roiled off of him like ripples of heat roiled from the baked earth of a desert.
Snarf meowed nervously, shrinking behind the fence.
Then, abruptly, his hackles laid flat. "I'm going into town to get our supplies. You can come with me, or you can wait for me here. It's your choice."
Leopara took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff as he stalked into the town.
When he started to disappear from her sight, she followed suit with a hurry in her step to catch up to him.
He glanced at her over his shoulder with a note of smug satisfaction, and then faced ahead.
The town looked nothing like a Thunderian town. The houses were, by and large, ramshackled wood held together by patches of metal and a prayer. Some of them protruded from the stony center of the town. Many had smoke billowing from smokestacks.
For how quiet the town had seemed from its exterior, she was shocked at how noisy and busy its streets were. A menagerie of character flitted about, although most huddled up into their own groups to speak and mill about. She saw at least two otters, a birdman, and a boar- but everything else looked foreign and bizarre to her.
What sort of life had been on Third Earth before the cats arrived? What were all these people, so different and varied in appearance, called? Were they animals too? Or something else?
Most of them wore very little, if any clothes.
It was… discomforting.
Everywhere she probed, she felt some type of tension- anger, frustration, impatience- often mixed with glee. Exhilaration? she wondered.
Finally, they approached a shop with what they were looking for: bedrolls and blankets. Lion-O gestured while Leopara turned her attention elsewhere, scooting even closer to Lion-O. He handed over a shilling.
"Can we leave now?" she asked in a whisper.
"A Thunderian shilling, eh? I'm afraid we don't deal with antiques." The shopkeeper flicked the coin back at Lion-O, who caught it despite his surprise.
No, apparently they could not leave now.
"Thunderian coins were once the most prized in the land." Lion-O responded, confused.
"And now they're relics of a fallen empire." the purple-skinned shopkeep crossed his bare arms.
Lion-O turned away, rubbing the back of his head. "So, what am I going to do for money?" he wondered aloud.
"What everyone else here does: sword competition." He pointed, and they followed his finger with their gazes, landing upon a large crowd gathered around a towering, rectangularly cut stone that bore several nicks and notches that she could see even from the distance.
Oh…
Lion-O drew the Sword of Omens again- she really wished he'd stop doing that in a place like this- and asked, "Wanna bet they've never seen a sword like this?"
"Let's just go elsewhere, Lion-O."
The shopkeep chuckled with dark amusement. "You won't find any place that accepts those coins."
Lion-O looked her hard in the eyes. "I can handle this, Leopara."
His blue eyes were intense and… alight with an inner fire. She sighed, defeated. "Just be careful…"
A dog with a large, leather sheath on his back strode forward. He unsheathed his blade and held it high for all to see.
"The great Olicat, its blade forged in the lava pits of Mount Tiramabu. Witness its awesome power." He swung hard with one hand, leaving a surprisingly deep cut in the rock.
A large boarman strode forward, baring a thin, curved sabre which he rested on his shoulder. "Nice, but nothing compares to my sword." he boasted. He gestured with it. "The gods themselves fear its edge."
Leopara was unimpressed, even before he cried, "Behold!" and swung it.
The stone stopped it cold in its tracks. And then, the blade shattered into pieces, crumbling from the guard onwards. The gathered crowd chuckled and laughed as the boarman slumped away in embarrassment.
The next contestant was a large man with purple-skin and an underbite that revealed sharp lower fangs in a kind of dopey manner, she thought. He held a black blade reverently. It was unusual amongst blades for all its curves, like jagged, painted waves. "The wind, the trees, the morning dew on a delicate orchid; they all tremble before my beauty of the Blade of Kurokai." The sun glinted off of each ridge and curve of the blade.
He charged forward with a yell. The Blade of Kurokai didn't cut through the rock so much as it tore, leaving a gouge in the rock's corner.
The little yellow man pattered forward, inspecting the gouge and writing his observations down.
Leopara knew what she observed: senseless ego and pride.
"Is there no one else who will accept the challenge?" the yellow man called out.
The crowd chattered indistinctly.
Lion-O slipped away from her, through the crowd, and raised his hand smally. "I accept." he said.
"Never seen him before." mumbled a man.
Lion-O confidently strode forward.
"Do you have anything to say?" the little yellow man asked of him.
"Only to the other competitors: you're all vying for second place." he confidently announced, looking around at them.
The crowd, rather than burst in anger, burst into laughter- amused by this bold claim, apparently. The little yellow man hurried out of the way.
Lion-O squared up with the rock and drew the Sword of Omens. Without need for preamble or flair, the sword grew to its full-length. He stepped forward, and with a shout, cut down the rock.
At first, nothing seemed to have happened; but Leopara knew better.
Lion-O turned away from the rock, facing the crow which had begun to laugh at his apparent failure. He sheathed Omens, uncaring.
The laughter stopped when the cut bisecting the stone began to crackle and rumble. With a shake to the earth, the rock split into two and fell to either side.
A hush lingered for a moment.
Just a moment.
And then, they erupted into delighted cheering.
Snarf dashed forward through the crowd, stopping in front of his master to wag his tail happily. Lion-O smiled and looked down at the yellow man. "Where do I get my money?" he asked. Wordlessly, the man held up a pouch of coins."
Lion-O's smile grew lopsided. He bounced the pouch in his hand, clearly enjoying the feel of it. When he approached her, the crowd parted to let him through
"See? I told you I could handle myself~" he grinned.
Leopara refrained from sighing. "Well, now that we have the coin, let's purchase the supplies so we can leave."
Lion-O continued grinning, giving her a mischievous look. "Come on… say it: I was right~"
It was very hard not to sigh at him. "You're right, you handled yourself alright."
He beamed like the blazing sun. "Was that so hard?" he said, leading the way back to the waiting shopkeep.
This time, she did sigh. "Can we just focus on getting the supplies, please?"
"Alright, alright." he waved his hand. The coins clattered as he poured them out of the pouch and into the shopkeep's waiting hand. With his other arm, he hugged the bedroll. "That should cover it."
"An impressive victory." a voice said from behind them, sending chills running down Leopara's spine. They turned to face the grey-skinned man behind them. After his piercing red eyes and arched eyebrows, the first thing Leopara noticed was the array of swords sheathed on his back; seven of them, all different colors and styles, and two more hanging from his hips. His hand rested on the pommel of one of them as he continued, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Duelist. You, my friend, have something I desire." He gestured.
"Sorry. Snarf's not for sale." Lion-O said earnestly. Snarf looked up at him, processing his words. When he finally did understand, he whimpered and dove behind Lion-O's legs for shelter.
The Duelist pointed at Lion-O. "Your sword against my best blade. Winner takes all."
Leopara prepared to step forward and tell this "Duelist" off, but Lion-O impressed her with a steady, "Not interested." And then, he dashed her mood with, "I've already proven I've got the best sword in town."
Is that the only reason why? she thought, exasperated.
"Indeed." the Duelist agreed without debate. "The Sword of Omens is legendary even in these parts." Oh no. "But it's not your blade that needs to prove itself. It's you."
This is a swordsman's town, stranger, and they duel for keeps.
Snarf meowed in distress.
"I said no." Lion-O replied firmly.
"A wise decision. Perhaps if the last owner of that sword shared your cowardice, he'd still be alive." The Duelist closed his head and bowed his head, as if he was mournful.
As if.
Lion-O growled before Leopara could interject. "You're on."
She stepped between them, resting both hands on either of his shoulders. "Lion-O, no. We need to get back to the others."
He glared at the Duelist over her shoulder, as if he neither saw nor heard her. She could feel him trembling from rage. Rage mixed with despair, so poignant it deserved to be painted in melancholic, muted colors with tears streaming down. "Might as well hand over your best sword right now." he went on to growl.
"The Town Square, high noon." said the Duelist, similarly ignoring her.
Without a further word, he turned and strode away.
"You sure got guts." the shopkeep finally spoke. "The Duelist is a legend in these parts. Those swords on his back- trophies from all those who have fought him and lost. He is without conscience or morals and he will not stop until his thirst is slaked." Gravely, the shopkeep added, "Now, he wants your sword and it will be his."
Lion-O grit his teeth. "Whiskers."
"This is exactly what I was scared of, Lion-O." Leopara paced, doing her best to keep her head level. To keep her 'cool,' as it were.
She felt like she was burning up from the inside in that moment, though.
"I know." Lion-O said, pausing. He swung Omens rhythmically, practicing his form. "I shouldn't have let him get in my head like that."
"You're not a coward." she continued. "Maybe a bit of a hothead, but never a coward."
Lion-O shot her a look of, 'you're not helping.'
"We should leave." she went on to say, knowing full well what his response would be. Snarf meowed in agreement.
"Run? Don't you think I've run enough, Leopara?"
She stopped pacing and stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. "I didn't say run. I said leave. Just… walk away."
He eyed her for a moment. "Someone needs to teach that guy a lesson." He pivoted on his heel to continue. The Sword of Omens reflected a lovely, iridescent light as he thrust it forward. "He may be tough but nothing the Duelist has in his scabbard can beat the Sword of Omens."
"There's that ego kicking in again." The Drifter's voice interrupted. "Mind helping me down?"
"Drifter?" Lion-O said in disbelief.
Leopara gently grabbed Lion-O's arm, pausing him from speaking or moving. "Can you wait a moment?" she asked him as politely as she could manage. She didn't actually wait for him to respond, although he did nonetheless. "Lion-O… what I think the Drifter is trying to tell you, and what the Duelist meant, is that swords don't win the battle. The man wielding the blade wins the battle… you, Lion-O, have to beat him. Not the Sword of Omens against his blade."
Lion-O was silent for a moment, thinking. He glanced at the Drifter. "I know what you're going to tell me. I shouldn't have accepted his challenge."
"Why would I care what you do?" the rabbit asked oh-so-nonchalantly. "You're the one who's going to lose his sword, not me."
"You know, I can swing steel a lot better than you think." He waved it, as if trying to make his point.
He did the opposite.
"She's right, you know. You could have fooled me with those moves. You couldn't even split this reed." challenged the Drifter.
Leopara sighed and let go of Lion-O's arm, feeling defeated.
She would like to believe Lion-O could win, but Lion-O couldn't even win against his brother.
Time and again, she had seen him lose to skilled opponents, like Tygra. He struggled against Driller, winning only by the power of the War Stone. Even with the power of the sword, even with Cheetara by his side and everyone slowing Mumm-Ra down, he had lost to the ancient evil.
For her, it felt a little hopeless to think that he could win against a skilled swordsman that had defeated at least seven before him.
"He just needs to believe in himself." Cheetara's words echoed in her head. "It might help if you believed in him too."
Lion-O certainly believed himself. Was it confidence… or arrogance?
Could just… believing in him, putting her faith in him- could that really help alone?
"You're crazy." Lion-O said, holding up the sword. "Did you see what this sword did to that boulder?"
The Drifter chuckled. "If I only had your spirit." He dangled in the breeze. "But the fight left me long ago." He held his arms open. "How about I give you three swings?"
"I'll do it in one." Lion-O vowed. He picked up a long stick of bamboo to lower the Drifter this time, rather than climbing the wall. He lowered the Drifter to his feet, then tossed the stick of bamboo aside.
Leopara took her cue and scooted out of the way too.
Without much warning, Lion-O roared and charged the Drifter headlong, slashing horizontally at him. This merely caused the Drifter to spin in the air before landing gracefully.
"That's one. Could have warned me first but you're impatient, I can tell."
Lion-O snarled and rushed him again, slashing. The Drifter leapt effortlessly above Lion-O, slowly drifting behind him. "Two. There is such a thing as trying too hard. That's why I prefer not trying at all." Lion-O spun around, swiping at the Drifter while he was still in the air.
Lion-O kept pressing on, desperate to strike that reed. He grunted with each strike, never gave himself the time to recover- his balance quickly became unstable, wobbling from foot-to-foot as he pursued his target.
Snarf screeched as one of Lion-O's strikes landed too close to him, and Leopara felt a hot flush of anger rise to her face. Reckless!
"That was more than three, but I don't care. I made my point."
Lion-O panted, winded. "There was a point?"
Leopara shot him an angry look and made her way over to Snarf, opening her arms for the kitty-pet. He leapt into them, clinging to her. She gently stroked the ridge of fluff down his back, soothing him.
"Willows are weak, yet they bind other wood. Just some advice. Take it or leave it." the Drifter said. "A weakness can be turned into a strength, a lesson you won't understand until it's too late. You're just like he was."
"The Duelist?"
"No, the original owner of the sword the Duelist now uses." As he continued, telling his story, Leopara reached out. She felt… calmness, painted by the brush of melancholy and regret. "The Sword of Hittanzo, forged by a man who some called the greatest sword-maker of all time. The sword-maker lived a lonely life devoted to only one thing… his craft. But this particular blade was more than a sword. It was a work of art, his most prized possession and proudest achievement." The Drifter finally looked towards them, eyeing Lion-O. "Like you, he felt a sense of oneness with the weapon. With it, he was unstoppable… he thought. Word spread of the legendary blade. One day, the Duelist appeared and challenged the sword-maker to a fight. The sword-maker accepted the challenge. In his hubris, the sword-maker believed the strength would overcome his weakness as a warrior."
The Drifter paused for a long moment, a deep feeling of despair overcoming him. "He was mistaken and it cost him the one thing he valued most; to know that his work of art, his masterpiece, would be in the hands of a villain like the Duelist crushed him. He never made another sword, while the Duelist went on to become the greatest swordsman to ever walk the land."
"Whatever became of the sword-maker?" Lion-O asked.
"Who knows?" the Drifter replied innocently. "Some say he just drifts around, blowing wherever the wind takes him; a shell of the man he once was."
Lion-O was quiet for a few moments before it clicked. "You?" Then, "I'm fighting against a sword you forged." His expression twisted. "I need your help. How can I beat the Sword of Hittanzo?" When the Drifter stayed quiet, Lion-O repeated, "How can I beat it!?"
Did he not listen to her earlier?
"You can't. Understand?" the Drifter demanded in anger. He turned and began to walk away from them. "Nobody can."
Lion-O watched him go, looking stricken.
Leopara stepped around, Snarf in arms. "Did you listen to anything I said?" she demanded. "Stop thinking about the swords and start thinking about the Duelist!" She took a deep breath, calming herself down. "Swords don't fight without a hand wielding them, Lion-O."
He stared up at her, looking quite in agony.
The loud call of a steam whistle blared through the city. She looked up at the sky.
It was noon.
As always, thank you everyone who has favorited, followed, and reads this~ A special thank you to The Night Whisperer. Heart of the Demons, and Frankannestein for their reviews~ I have the next few chapters complete and intend to upload them weekly, so look forward to part two next week!