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Chapter 5

“It would seem that you are telling the truth about them being in Yiga custody. That is unfortunate. I wish to get them out, yes, but I haven’t a plan, nor would I share it with you if I did.”

“Ah, but what’s to stop us from working together? Surely a team of our clans’ best soldiers could save the day; mayhap even the two of us alone could do it.”

Impa again grew silent before responding.

“Fine. We’ll work together. But only if you beat me in a duel.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s duel.”

The two nodded and stood up. Each made their way out the door and down the steps to the area before it.

“Follow me,” Impa directed. “We duel at the sacred brawling grounds, atop the cliff which overlooks our great village. It is the one behind the very temple we just left.”

Thus, the two did march their way to the sacred destination. Though Arya had spent a fair number of years in Gerudo hospitality, she had never been up here. Having heard it referred to as “sacred,” she thought it to look more, well, sacred. Yet, it was free of any markings. Not even the lines of an arena marked the ground.

“Rather plain for a ‘sacred brawling grounds,’ don’t you think?” Arya gestured.

“No plainer than the barren sands you call home.”

Arya chuckled. “Touché. So, what are the terms of defeat?”

“You die.”

“What? I didn’t agree to fight to the death.”

“You can always surrender, cowardly though it may be.” She gave a taunting shrug. “The choice is yours.”

Sneering, Arya responded: “Like I’d dare.”

Swift as a blade, Arya drew her own and lunged at Impa. Her blade was a standard Gerudo scimitar: fashionable, yet durable, and of the toughest steel one could find; life in the desert required nothing less.

With speed equally as blinding, Impa stepped out of the way and grabbed Arya’s wrist. They exchanged looks: Arya, angered, and Impa, arrogant with glee. Arya turned her blade so that its sharp end faced Impa, and pulled back in a way what would bring its arc to Impa’s side. Just barely, Impa managed to dodge this attack, though at the cost of letting Arya free.

“I see you’re still quick on your feet… but you’ve slowed down a bit, haven’t you?” Arya taunted.

“Why bring out your full force if you don’t need to?” Impa retorted.

“Ever the comedian. It’d be a shame if you lost your tongue and couldn’t tell jokes anymore.” At that, Arya struck at Impa’s mouth with a stabbing motion, Impa again dodging it by a hair.

She’s good, Impa thought. Too good. I can’t keep playing with her like this and expect to– “Aggghhhhh!” Impa screamed out in agony as Arya’s cold blade cut across the surface of her cheek. She quickly grabbed it to stunt the pain and flow of blood. “Not… bad. But I’ve had enough of this rabble.” She jumped back and removed her hand, smearing blood down her cheek as she did so, and drew her naginata from her back, assuming an offensive position. “Come on!”

Now, it was her turn. She thrusted her blade forward with the force of a thousand men, putting Impa on the defensive. In parallel to Impa, Arya was just barely able to knock the blade away with her own — though it quickly came swinging in her direction, where she just barely managed to jump out of the way.

“Come on, you’re better than this!” Arya teased. “First you take a hit right to the face, then you can’t hit a simple target? You’ve grown weaker than I thought.”

Impa chuckled. “Sorry; guess I’m still warming up.”

“Better hurry up, then. I didn’t come all this way for child’s play.”

“All right, tell me what you think of this!”

Impa motioned her blade to strike Impa, and was successful in doing so, stabbing her in the shoulder.

Arya fell to a knee, grabbing her shoulder in pain.

“You’re better than you put on,” Arya said, her breathing heavy. “Guess I’m the one who needs to pick up her game.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They both struck at each other, parrying in likewise manner. They grimaced. They lunged again at each other, and again parried. Again, and again did they exchange blows, and again, and again did they parry. This continued for what both subconsciously agreed was too long before they both jumped backward.

“We’re getting nowhere,” Arya said in dismay. “This is pointless!”

“Though I’d like to taunt you and say you wanted it, you’re right. Perhaps we’re just too evenly matched.”

“You and I both know neither of us wants to accept that.”

“Aye, but I also know we two know a combatant’s skill when we see it.”

Arya clenched her free fist. “You’re right. And just when I was beginning to have fun.”

“‘Just beginning’? I’m hurt! I’ve been enjoying myself this entire time.”

“Care to go for more, then?”

“As if you even had to ask — to the death?”

“I thought we were.”

Impa gave a cockish nod. She dashed toward Arya, blade held behind her, parallel to her side. Arya smirked. She held her blade high above her head, as if waiting to swing down the moment Arya’s came in range. Slice. Right down the middle. Much to her dismay, however, just before she got in range, Impa swung her blade in an arc to cut right through the obstacle before her. Quickly did Arya move her blade to block the coming blow, but all was for naught, as Impa’s blade pushed the sword back and embedded itself in Arya’s side, forcing out a piercing scream of pain.

“You–!” Arya growled.

“Is this not what you wanted?” Impa offered in response.

“It’s precisely what I wanted.”

Summoning her strength, Arya grabbed the upper hilt of the Naginata and forced it from her side, quickly jumping back, grabbing her side with one hand as she held her blade at Impa with the other.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Impa teased. “You look so, so pathetic.”

“Well… I thought I’d give you a little present, since it’s been so long since we last met.”

“Aww, the sight of you weak and in despair? How kind.”

“I yield.”

Impa staggered back a little. “You yield? Surely the great Captain Arya of the Gerudo would not kneel so easily!”

“Knowing when to back down is essential to a captain,” Arya retorted, before wincing in pain. “Besides… the longer we spend here, the longer those for whom we fight remain with the Yiga.

“Well put. Well put.” Impa returned her naginata to her back and stuck out a hand to Arya. “Come. We’ve got an adventure to go on.”

To be continued…

John Piland is a writer and editor for Zelda Dungeon. He’s been working on this story for a long time, so he hopes you enjoy it. He enjoys fiction and writing screenplays, stage plays, short stories, novels, and poetry. He’s been an avid Zelda fan for years, and loves the hit MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV just as much, so hit him up if you play and would like to go adventuring together. Follow John on social media @John_Piland_.

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