Round Robin Story Debate - RD. 1, Logic vs. isallannoyyo

“What will you choose?” The apparitions faded away, their poignant touch still fresh in Ito’s mind. It was time to make a decision. But it wasn’t a rational matter. What did he want? Then, with a flash of inspiration, Ito gripped his sword, unsheathed it, and let it glint in the sun. His blade would make a difference. Ito sheathed the blade, and strode off, a purpose in his step. The city whirled around him. A moment of peace, of purpose, a moment when life seemed so sharp. To cling to these moments, to provide a purpose to one’s life… Ito tried to, but these moments faded away. Drifted into the recesses of his mind, and lingered as barely a remnant of his life. The overwhelming force of reality rolled in, predictable as the sun’s rise. And then the moment was over. But he would cling to that moment. He would not let it become but a charred remnant of some former time. The world came back. Hevellian and Pireha voices floated through the air, their piercing touch mellowed by flowing water moving round a fountain. Hevellian and Pireha mingled on the fountain edge. A Hevellian male, sitting next to a Pireha lady, leaned over. The lady seemed to hesitate just slightly, and then leaned in as well. Ito looked away. It would not do to drift in thought too long. A majestic palace loomed above - The king’s castle. Ito approached the guards on duty.---“Ito, how’d the day go?” “They are senile fools. Did you think I’d fail?” The guards chuckled. “We never doubted you Ito. Anyhow, go in, don’t let us keep you waiting.” Ito walked in, passing through the courtyard. Above the courtyard was a balcony that extended the entire perimeter of the courtyard. In the courtyard were a group of radiant fountains, all of elegant design. The sight was wonderful. It disappeared as he walked into a corridor. A labyrinthine maze of corridors. Ito navigated through the maze, moving ever closer to the centre. Occasionally a guard or two passed by, lackadaisical in their stride. Ito continued on with purpose. Finally, he approached the central area, and a guard stopped him. “Ito, why do you come unannounced?” asked the guard, his face stern, the way ahead blocked. Warily, Ito slowly lowered his hand, moving closer to his scabbard. “The King demands my presence. Go check with him yourself fool.” The guard’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice came to a menacing tone. “The King is not here. He’s strolling the courtyard. He wouldn’t have you come here now.” There was a second of seeming calm. It was pierced by realisation on both faces. “Ito you traitor…” Ito leapt forward, his blade with him. The guard rushed for his blade, but he was too slow. In a second, the cream carpet lay stained with crimson blood. Ito withdrew his bloodied blade, and hurried away. He had to get to the courtyard. He began running. A guard turned into Ito’s corridor, ahead of him. His face seemed to drift into shock, paralysed by the limp body. Ito drew his sword and prepared to run him through. The guard screamed. Then he was impaled. Blast it. Ito began running. Guards would be coming to tear him asunder, forever. It was time to escape. But he couldn’t just escape and have done nothing. He had to go after the King. Ito tore through the corridors. Guards approached. He swerved. The guards started crying for help. Within a mere minute he was hopelessly lost and weaving through corridors. Behind him was a merciless group of Hevellian and Pireha swordsmen. There was no way to face the 10 soldiers following him. It was certain death. Or was it? Was there a way to hold off 10 soldiers? There was. He had to blockade a corridor wide enough for only one soldier to come at him. Of course, if he were ever pushed out of a corridor… Ito didn’t have time to work out the details as guards chased, but it was an idea. He raced to the courtyard. Finally he came to a narrow corridor, one that led out to the balcony above the courtyard. Wide enough for only 1, Ito could hold, so long as no solider forced him out onto the balcony, when other soldiers would pour through and slay him. If he dealt with all the soldiers he would jump into the courtyard and slay the king. The first soldier, a Hevellian, entered the corridor. “Come at me demon!” shouted Ito defiantly. And then began the flow of battle. The first soldier came forward, his strokes fierce, but lacking in technique. He fell quickly. A Pireha approached next. And so on and on went the battle, Ito’s fury, determination and skills driving him onto a maddening, continuous set of strokes. Occasionally he was forced back, and sometimes he pressed forward. Ito was like a man standing against the pull of the ocean tide, but he was holding for the time. Then, suddenly, he was at the corridor’s end, a Hevellian pressing hard against him as he tired. Ito stepped back onto the balcony. The guard slashed forward simultaneously, stumbling into empty space. Ito slew him and hastily re-entered the corridor. The guards held back. Ito began to catch his breath. “Enough!” shouted Desco. “You fools, you utter weaklings, can stay back and let me slay Ito.” An almost palpable fear coursed through Ito’s body – Desco was more than a match. Desco began to walk forward.“You can’t do this Desco. You can’t just slay a fellow countryman who’s fighting for you.” Desco chuckled, as he always seemed to. “Oh, I can Ito, I can…” came his dark voice. He took another step. The flow of fear seemed to increase in Ito. “Desco, together we can slay these guards and kill the king here and now! But only together. Come, fight for your country and reclaim our lives!” “Ito, those lives, that existence, is gone, forever. We can’t reclaim it, and I don’t want to. I love the rewards of my work now. I have what I want. And do you know what will happen if we succeed and kill the king Ito? We’ll be surrounded by Hevellians and die. You’re a fool Ito, a fool who doesn’t realise that the past is gone.” Ito’s face, trembling with fear, straightened, as if to a resigned look. He drew into a fighting stance. “If I can’t convince, then I must slay you.” “If you can.” Desco leapt forward, and their blades clashed. Desco rained down a torrent of blows upon Ito, forcing him back. Slowing fractionally, Desco’s halt was enough for Ito to leap into a slash. With terrifying elegance and precision the duellists fought, cut and parry, counter and riposte, all in a narrow corridor. Finally, Desco leapt forward, and cut Ito’s arm lightly, drawing blood. Then he came with more blows. Out of position, it was all Ito could do to merely block and retreat. He blocked with all his strength, but he was forced back nonetheless. Desco’s blinding skill with the sword was just too much. Desco struck again, and Ito again parried, the duel resuming again. Ito drew apart a few seconds later. Both he and Desco were out on the balcony, the sweeping courtyard below, the low balcony railing next to them. Guards began to walk through the corridor. Desco turned. “Don’t. I want to take care of Ito, personally.” Deferentially, the guards held back. Ito kept his eye firmly on Desco. “This is the perfect chance Desco. You block the corridor, I slay the king…” “No Ito. You’re a fool to the end, even if a brave one.” Ito struck first. Ito struck forward, his blows furious, determined, a hint of barbaric force behind them. It was everything he had. He struck, and struck again, and again. Desco held. Then Ito faltered. Desco struck, and Ito’s momentum was gone, his force dissipated. Desco began a piercing hail of blows and… Ito was pressed hard against the balcony rail. His sword interlocking with Desco’s. It was a matter of strength, but Ito had no footing, no place to move. Desco pushed. The flat of Ito’s blade pressed evermore against himself, Desco pushed harder. And then Ito toppled over the balcony.