I mentioned Sarah's stubbornness and willingness to defend the people she cares about in the previous commentary, and here we get to see some of that. We also get to see that she did anticipate that she would encounter dangerous villains and had the foresight to improve her magical skills.
Holy Crap, He Has a Sword!!!
Sarah
I was on that guy. I might not look like the typical “fit girl”, but I’d bet money I’m in better shape than most of you who’re reading this (no offense). The various sports I play see to that. Anyway, I expected to catch the Mohawk guy pretty quick, but he was wicked fast. Lucky for me I’m pretty smart, I think pretty far ahead, and I still had an ace up my sleeve.
You see, I told you about the powers of the Duelist’s Souls, but I never really specified what those powers are. Each Soul gives its wielder the power to Destiny Draw (draw any one card from their deck that they need) once per duel (we only use that one against bad guys, promise). On top of that they give each of us the power to do things outside of duels. Magical stuff based on the element that our Soul represents, as well as the aspect of our personality that the Soul draws from, and that connects it to us.
For example, my brother John has a dark side. He can be as wicked as any of our enemies, lazy, and unserious to the point of endangering himself and others. His Soul is the Soul of Darkness, to represent this. The power of his Soul is based on how well he balances his two halves: his dark side, and his super goody, responsible, thoughtful hero side. He can manipulate darkness, making it into solid forms, moving through it to any place on earth, or even into the minds of others. He can read or control minds, since everyone has some darkness in them. The more balanced he is, the more powers he has, and the more powerful his abilities are.
Max can control fears of himself and others, giving himself control over the very livelihoods of those around him. His Soul is life, and its power comes from how well he controls his fear and therefore how strong his mastery is over his own life. He can bring people’s fears to life. The more powerful the control, the more realistic those fears become. According to him, he can even kill weak people, or keep people from dying. Even Tucker has a butt load of power. His Soul is the Soul of Fire. It feeds on the power of his determination to make and control flames. The more determined he is, the stronger his magic.
But me? Until recently I couldn’t really do anything, ’cept create, like, little bubbles and stuff. Not for lack of trying. I couldn’t figure out why my powers wouldn’t work. It was like the others had powers built in, but I didn’t. Then it hit me. My Soul is Water, the element that represents fluidity of thought. Creativity in action. Maybe I had to actually go out and make stuff up as I went along. You know, think outside the box.
So I did. I ran around behind old buildings and the like, playing around with my abilities. Now I have almost a full range of control over both water and ice! I can make ice so solid it’s as hard as metal, freeze the water vapor around someone to slow them down, or condense the water vapor around me into water needed for my attacks. And I can do this thing.
“Come on, Water Skates!” I said, and water instantly formed under my shoes, creating a low-friction barrier under each one. I slid on those planes of low friction like skates, careful to keep the distant form of Mohawk in sight. As I did I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and called Jenna, “Call the others! Have them meet you at Wilson's. Tucker is there. Wait for me! Something’s up, and I got a bad feelin’.”
I saw Mohawk turn a corner into an alleyway. I followed, obviously. By now I was only a few yards behind him. I turned the corner, and he was in my face! I dissolved my Water Skates and dropped quickly under a swinging object.
Is that a sword?!
I turned toward my foe. He’d overexerted himself and overreached, so his back was to me. I swept my fingers through the air and summoned Ice Bullets that I flung at his back, sped up by the power of my Soul. They wouldn’t be fatal. Probably. But before my attack could reach the target, he spun and slashed my Ice Bullets out of the air with his sword, and I saw it.
Not a sword. A Shadow Item!
It wasn’t even very long. Just a gunmetal-colored rod with a black leather grip. Just the hilt of a sword. What made it look like a whole sword was the long black blade made of shadows that extended off of it.
It was a Shadow Sword.
I ducked under my opponent’s next swing and summoned up a Water Burst, launching it at Mohawk’s chest, but it was hasty, and it didn’t have the power it could have had. It served its purpose, though, and threw off Mohawk’s next swing long enough for me to swing around behind a dumpster. I summoned up some water behind the dumpster and expanded it enough to push the dumpster a few feet away from the wall. Far enough that by the time Mohawk had circled the dumpster to face me, I’d already squeezed behind it and circled around behind him again. I summoned a splash of water around Mohawk’s legs and promptly froze it, attempting to seal him in place, but a single swipe of his Shadow Sword shattered the ice and freed him.
I’d bought myself enough time, however, to use my real technique. I summoned up a huge ball of water and condensed it into a long, super hard, sharp-edged stick, like a sword of my own, harder even than steel. Mohawk swung his weapon. I swung mine. The attacks met and our blows deflected each other with enough force to shake the alleyway around us.
“You’re pretty tough for a kid,” said Mohawk.
“I’m a teenager actually,” I said, “and I know.” But I was just blowing hot air. My arm was throbbing. If I had to deflect another blow from that sword, my arm might as well fall of it’d be so useless. This guy was way stronger than me. Like, way way.
But remember that hot-headed idiot I told you about? I take back everything bad I ever said about him (so far).
“Back off!” Tucker demanded from behind me, where he had just appeared around the corner of the building. He lunged past me, throwing a spinning kick at Mohawk’s head. Mohawk stepped back and swung his sword, but Tucker stepped around it with ease, stepped in close, and was on that goon. He swung a first, which Mohawk blocked. He swung another fist in rapid succession, winging Mohawk in the jaw. Mohawk stumbled back, giving Tucker time to summon up a ball of flames as big as his giant, thick head. He released the fireball. It took everything Mohawk had to deflect it with his blade.
“Who are you guys?” Mohawk asked, his voice gruff. He stood facing us. Tucker watched and waited in silence.
“Fine,” said Mohawk, responding to our un-forthcoming attitude, “I’m out of-.”
That’s when he saw the Soul of Fire hanging around Tucker’s neck, and he smiled. He glanced over at me and saw my Soul as well, “Oh, this is perfect. You guys are the Duel Force? A couple of kids? There’s gotta be more of ya. We’ve been hopin’ to run into you. That’s why we were out tonight. We know you guys like to play hero, so we decided to hit up some card places. I can’t believe it. I always thought you guys’d be older.”
“What do you want with the Duel Force?” I demanded.
Mohawk’s smile widened, “Catch me and you’ll find out.” The blade of his Shadow Sword disappeared, and he seemed to melt into the shadows all around him, hidden amongst them. I could see the movement of his body, but it took all of my concentration. I might have been able to follow him, but I didn’t bother. Instead I let my icy weapon dissolve and started rubbing my arm, “OWWWWW!”
“You okay?” Tucker asked, genuinely concerned, looking at my sore arm.
“Yeah,” I said, “I’m fine, but my ARM HURTS!”
I grumbled for a minute before I finally began to calm down, “I’m okay. We gotta get back to Wilson’s”
“We aren’t going after that guy?” Tucker wondered.
“Not yet. But don’t worry, we will.”
Tucker and I started heading back toward Wilson’s card shop. We’d gathered the stuff that Mohawk had taken. He’d dropped it in the alley before the fight. We were walking at a normal pace when I said casually, “So, you sure handled that thing at Wilson’s quick. I called up the others and told ’em to meet you there ’cause I thought you’d take longer. Not that I’m complaining. You kinda saved my butt.”
“Oh, yeah,” Tucker replied, “I didn’t take care of anything. Wilson said he’d handle it, so I let things be and came after you.”
I was shocked, “You left that thug alone with an old man?”
Tucker shrugged dismissively, “Wilson seemed to know what he was doing.”
“Just when I think there’s hope for you,” I said, “you go and win yourself the idiot of the year award!”
Needless to say, I started running.
We got back to Wilson’s so fast that it had to be a record. To my pleasant surprise, Wilson was inside the store, completely unharmed, with my young but tall and gangly dark-haired cousin, Amanda, my very curvy, long-light-brown-haired other cousin Kris, and the most unique of the unique, my second in command, Jenna. She was wearing a fleece-lined sky blue vest over a red-and-black-striped long-sleeved shirt, a denim skirt, and knee high purple-striped socks. There wasn’t a single part of her outfit that didn’t clash with her frizzy brown hair. My friends/family/team-mates were talking with Wilson, laughing, and generally having a merry time. I stepped inside, “Mr. Wilson, are you okay?”
“Of course, young lady,” Mr. Wilson replied. “That little pest was exactly that: a pest. He was no challenge to me.”
“Sarah,” Kris asked, “why don’t you make me come down here more often? I love it here!”
“You say that every time I get you to stop in,” I answered. Kris is nice and reliable, but more than a little spacey sometimes. She thought Mr. Wilson was hilarious and just generally awesome, but she could never trouble herself to come down to his shop.
Weird.
Anyway...
“I called you guys together this late because I had a bad feeling about the thugs that I’m sure Wil has talked your ears off about by now, and I was right. Before he ducked out, Mohawk told me and Bonehead that he was specifically looking for us.”
“You know,” said Tucker, “the comments hurt.”
Jenna spoke up next, “By ‘us’, do you mean you and Bonehead-”
“Come on!”
“-or do you mean the Duel Force?”
“I mean,” I answered, “the Duel Force. He recognized us by our, uh,” I glanced at Mr. Wilson, “by our you-know-whats.”
“You mean you Duelist’s Souls?” Wilson asked. Before my surprise could even register, he explained, “Your brother John told me about ‘em. And I have been around the block. I know a little about magic items myself, ya know.”
I felt like maybe Wilson wasn’t sharing the entire extent of what he knew, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have time to wonder.
“We have to move, guys. These two goons are after us-.”
“There’s only one guy left,” said Wilson. “The one I beat isn’t comin’ back.”
“Okay,” I said, “this one guy is after us. We need to confront him, or maybe both of them, and see what’s up. We’ll have numbers on our side, so it should be a breeze.”
“Maybe I should sit this one out,” said Jenna. “After all, I don’t have magic like you guys do.”
“Actually,” Mr. Wilson cut in, hopping up from his place at the card table and grabbing something off of the counter, “I have a solution to that particular problem.” He reached out and handed Jenna the rust-haired punk’s Shadow Baton.
Needless to say, I was impressed.
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