Blackbird

Stokols

Blackbird

When I was applying for school here, I didn’t understand how cold it would be. “There’ll be a lot of snow,” they said, but I didn’t listen to them. I’d done snow before. But now, lying on my back in it, I finally understand. It’s probably not what they meant, but it makes sense to me now. Sticky warmth is radiating from my chest, into my hands and melting the snow, but it doesn’t help. I’m the coldest I’ve ever been in my entire life.

It’s a 5 minute walk to the bus stop, and a 15 minute drive to campus. That day I didn’t even make the 5 minute walk. As soon as I walked out the door, swaddled in a green overcoat and scarf, a little blackbird swooped down in front of me and perched on a barren tree branch. It looked at me and turned its head, as if it were trying to figure out what kind of tree I was. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Then, without a screech or any form of warning, it leapt off the tree branch and dove towards me. It took me too long to figure out what the hell was going on and I jumped out of the way just as it swiped my head. I wiped the side of my face with a gloved hand; I was bleeding. The bird had disappeared. I ran backwards to the front porch so I could get a better view of the yard; there it was, standing right at the end of my footprints. As soon as I made eye-contact it was in the air again. I opened the door, ran inside and slammed it behind me. Jeff, my roommate, walked downstairs to see me curled up in a corner, panting like a dog.

“Um, you ok?” Jeff asked.

“There’s this fucking psycho bird in the front yard, I swear it tried to kill me.”

“A bird? Like what, a hawk?”

“No, like a little bird. It should still be out there.” I stood up on violently shaking legs and pointed out the window.

“…That little tiny bird?”

“Yeah, it was aiming for my head.” I showed him the cut on my face. A perfect, clean line from my nose to my ear. Jeff started laughing.

“What you do, run into a tree?” He opened the front door.

“Don’t open that! Close it! Close the door!”

Jeff walked into the front yard and up to the blackbird. It didn’t budge, even when Jeff was a foot away from it. He screamed “BWAH” at it, and it flew away into the trees. “There, I beat it. Come on, don’t you have a midterm today?”

My midterm was in Art History. If I didn’t take it, I couldn’t pass the class. “I’ll stay at home today,” I told him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just take the makeup or something.”

“…Ok then,” Jeff chuckled. He walked around the corner shaking his head.

As soon as Jeff was out of sight, the bird hopped off the roof and swooped directly towards the open door. “SHIT,” I screamed, and slammed the door in its beak.

I missed the makeup exam, too. I missed the entire next week of school, barricaded in my apartment. Every time I left my front door, it would be there to chase me back inside. I could get past it if I was walking with a friend, but my roommates thought it was great fun to run ahead of me and leave me alone with it. So I just stopped going outside altogether. I lived on top ramen, watched a lot of TV and screwed around on the computer. I called animal services once, but it was hiding and after an hour of searching they gave up and sold me a live bird trap. A metal cage with two openings that birds could get in, but not out of. I left it on my porch, but the goddamn thing never even looked at it. It just wanted me.

Saturday I had a fencing tournament. There was no way I was going to miss this, even if there were a murder of homicidal birds in my lawn. I put on my fencing uniform and snuck out the back door, fencing equipment slung over my shoulder. The bird caught me and chased me down as I ran to the bus stop. The bus was driving away as I turned the last corner; I had to chase and scream after it. When I finally made it to the gym, my Sensei yelled at me for getting my uniform cut up before a tournament. “Sorry,” I said, “There’s this bird that’s chasing me wherever I go, it almost killed me trying to get here.”

A classmate heard me and lifted his head. “Wait, that’s you?”

I got fourth in the tournament. That meant no medal or trophy, but I did get a nice ribbon. It didn’t really matter what the reward was though. I caught Jeff and my other roommate Paige getting off the bus. “Hey, guys.”

“Oh, hi Lee,” Paige said.

“Hey, you guys haven’t been telling people about that bird thing, have you?”

Jeff chuckled, “Only a couple people, it’s not like I’ve been telling everyone I meet.”

“Did you tell Frankie Herdez?”

“…Who?”

“He’s on my fencing team, he said ‘that’s you?’ when I mentioned it in class.”

“Oh, well I don’t know how he found out.”

“Rumors spread, jackass. Don’t tell anyone else. I know it’s weird, and you think I’m crazy, but I think I’m crazy too. I don’t need your help.”

“Hey, it’s not Jeff’s fault the tiny little bird hates you! Don’t take it out on him!” Paige said, wrapping an arm around Jeff’s waist.

I glared at her. “I never said it was his fault. It’s probably just mating season or something.”

She giggled, “Or hunting season.”

“I think you’re being unfair,” Jeff said patting me on the shoulder, “give it a chance. It probably just wants to talk.” We were in front of the apartment now, I walked inside, closing the door in their faces.

It was Sunday, my 7^th day under siege. I was pacing around the apartment, covering every square foot of floor with my footprints. Every time I looked out a window, on every side of the house, the bird was perched and staring at me. I took a shower. I watched some TV. I hit the wall with my fist and made a dent. I’d had enough. I dumped the garbage from my metal mesh trashcan onto the floor of my room and brought it to the living room. Without hesitating a beat I opened the front door.

The bird was sitting on that same bald branch from the first day I saw it. It didn’t attack right away, it cocked its head at me and took a few sideways steps on the branch. That’s right you bastard, I’m coming for you. With a silent flap it hovered off the tree, and moving its wings back like a butterfly swimmer, it dove towards me. Before I could move the trash can to defend myself, its beak was inside my chest. I hit it with the butt of the trashcan; an indirect hit but it fell to the floor. With a battle cry I slammed the trashcan over it. Victory was mine. But at a price: blood was dribbling down my t-shirt, the stab was directly over my heart. If I hadn’t hit it with the trashcan, I would have been dead. With a sputtering chuckle I fell down in the snow, breathing through my mouth because my nose was clogged. Chunks of ice got under my clothes and melted against my skin.

I took another shower and wrapped gauze around my wound. The cut wasn’t that deep, thank god. I went back into the living room where the bird still sat under the trash can, held down by two bricks. I grinned. “Now, what shall I do with you?” I asked it, squatting so I could look directly into its eyes. “Throw you under a train? Into a lake? Into a fireplace?” The bird sat down, its gaze never leaving mine. I touched the gauze over my heart, still a bit tender. “I suppose I should bring you to a vet or something, so they can check if you have rabies or salmonella or something. I hear they have to cut open your head in order to find out. That sounds like a fitting fate.”

“Please, I assure you I’m not diseased, and if you’ll let me explain I do have an explanation for my actions.”

I was staring directly at the blackbird when it spoke. I saw its beak move and the perfect English treble out of its throat. But still I turned around and asked: “Who said that?”

The bird sighed. “It was I. My name is Therspar.”

Its mouth certainly seemed to be moving. I felt my forehead. “Hypothermia?”

“No, reality.”

I started laughing. “This is, haha, wow, I must have been in the snow for too long… I’m starting to see things.”

The bird seemed to be getting impatient, it was tapping its clawed foot. “When you’re ready to speak sensibly, please tell me. I shall wait for you to calm down.”

“This is bullshit…”

“And if you attempt to destroy me, I guarantee there will be a reversal of rolls.”

I stared at the bird, he was done talking with me. He folded his legs underneath his body and watched me. I walked to the couch and stood in front of it, picking at the gauze on my chest. What was this bird’s deal? Would it leave me alone if I heard it out? I walked back and crouched in front of the trashcan again. “Ok, go.”

It looked away.

“Bird, I’m ready to listen. You can start talking now.”

“I bird I am… not. I was transformed into this state, but before that I was Prince Therspar of the kingdom Angmil, which was built under your human city.” The bird, Therspar, stared at me as if waiting for confirmation. I nodded my head and he continued. “I was turned into a bird when Angmil was attacked by our neighboring kingdom Zaali. We shared an armistice for centuries, but their new king, Firvon, is stupid and violent; he attacked on our holy day of worship, with long forbidden magick and carnivorous beasts. Our military was called to arms, but we were grossly unprepared for such a lowbrow attack. They cut a swath through the city and killed my father, the king, in his throne room. When they came for me however, I had my sword drawn. I attacked Firvon and nearly killed him, but one of his mages cast a spell from across the room and turned me into a tiny blackbird.” He lifted his wing to show me, as if I hadn’t noticed yet that he was a bird. “Firvon didn’t even bother to kill me, he and his soldiers just laughed at me and kicked me. His mage taunted that the only way for me to turn back to normal was to kill a human.” Therspar paused and looked at me. I nodded again. “They threw me out the castle window, and left me with a broken wing on the bloody streets of Angmil. I made my way through the ceiling to the world of humans, to take a single life and save my kingdom.”

Therspar folded his legs under his body again and waited. I was dressed in nothing but a towel and the gauze wrapped around my chest, and it was snowing sideways outside. Blood was leaking through the white mesh. “Why me?” I asked the bird.

“I saw you practicing with a sword, and thought you would be able to defend yourself. I want it to be a fair battle.”

I warm thrill rose up my throat. “You think I’m a good fighter?” Therspar nodded his beak. I looked at the desk in the living room where my fourth place ribbon sat, forgotten and abandoned. What an incredible sparring partner this bird could be. What an honorable way to die!

“Even if I said no, would that change anything?”

“I suppose I can find someone else, one more willing to fight.”

“I can do it,” I said.

“What?”

“I said I can do it.” My voice was shaking with excitement, my body felt like a taut, trembling rope.

Birds don’t have mouths to smile with, but I could see it in his eyes. Little black ball-bearing eyes that could still express so much. “Thank you. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

We set up some ground rules: He couldn’t attack me when I was going to campus in the morning, when I was with other people, or when I was unarmed. He only had one condition: I couldn’t wear armor. This would be fun.

I started going to classes again. All except for Art history; there was no way to pass it now so why even bother. Some of my classmates asked me if the rumors were true. I just told them it was over now. I got notes for all the classes I missed and got all the homework assignments. Most of my Statistics was just busy work, so I put it in my backpack and forgot about it. I had an essay due in Film the next day, a project in my Drama class, and test in Psychology. I chuckled to myself and wondered why I used to worry so much about this bullshit.

In fencing, I was a monster. I tore through opponents like paper; as soon as the Sensei’s arm was out of the way my sword was at their throats. “If only you’d been trying this hard at the tournament!” my Sensei joked. He patted me on the back and I jumped.

Back in front of my house, Therspar was waiting for me. I took off my winter jacket and drew my foil, tip unrolled, from my sports bag; Therspar fluttered to the ground and stood en garde, heel to toe at a 90 degree angle. Standing in the hard packed snow, facing each other with weapons drawn and eyes glinting, we looked like characters in a Samurai movie. My scarf was even blowing out behind me in the wind. We bowed, and lunged towards each other. I cross stepped towards him and cut at his beak. He parried and came around my left side, I blocked it. His beak had surprising resistance: even though he was hovering in the air, he held his position like he was a sword held in place with an arm and a body. He disengaged and flew to my side. I blocked again; he was pushing me back. I stomped my foot and lunged at him, Therspar danced out of the way like a blade and stabbed at me pushing me back again. I was blocking all his attacks, but I couldn’t get anything in myself. It was probably because he was so small; where was I supposed to hit him? A few minutes later, neither of us had made a touch. I blocked a cut at my head and caught a glimpse of my watch. “My roommate is coming home in three minutes!” I cried.

Therspar stopped and fell to the ground. We bowed again, and stared each other in the eyes. “You did quite well,” he said.

“Thanks, you’re really good. How long did it take you to learn to fight like that as a bird?”

“I’ve been practicing ever since I made my way to the world of humans.”

“How long ago was that?”

Therspar paused. “A while,” he said.

After I changed and came out of my room, Jeff and Paige were making cookies. The smell woke up an old memory from middle school, when I went to Jeff’s house and his mother made cookies that smelled like this. I think she added ginger or something. He smiled when I walked in and handed me the tray. “Cookie?” he asked, waving it under my nose. I took one and ate it slowly. It was cool that his mom taught him how to cook. Paige curled around Jeff’s neck and kissed him; she was always climbing all over him whenever I was around, when I walked into the room she’d usually jump on his lap. She took a cookie off the tray and ate it, staring at me.

At the end of the week we had longer to fence before my roommates got back home. I had practiced in fencing that day to aim for the hand holding the sword instead of the neck. Therspar had hit me three times, and my score was still zero. We began and Therspar lunged instantly. I unthinkingly ducked out of the way, leaving the back of my head open and almost falling on my ass. I got back up quickly; Therspar was waiting for me to compose my self. As soon as I was back in position, he flew towards my face again, and I tried to push forward. He parried and tried to counter but I blocked it and pulled back, then thrust. I tapped him in the chest; he flew to the ground shouting “Touche! Touche!”

I threw my sword to the ground, beaming. “Wow, I got you!”

“You almost got me,” Therspar said. There was a trickle of blood falling through his feathers.

“What do you mean? It was a direct hit!”

“Yes, but you pulled back too soon. If you’d kept going, you would have killed me.” He let this sink in; I stared at my sword in the snow. “Don’t forget the stakes we’re fighting for. I’m not holding back, and I don’t want you to either.”

I picked my sword up. Because the tip was usually curled, it never actually hurt anyone. Today there was a little red stain on the tip.

“Let’s call it a day,” Therspar said, and preened the feathers around the wound. I picked up my things and we walked to the tree. “Do you know who you remind me of?” the bird asked. “My son, he fought like you. He was quick on his feet; you keep up with me well.”

“You have a son?” I asked.

“Two.”

Two sons, and probably a wife. They were being held captive by the evil king Firvon, if they weren’t dead. And yet still Therspar took the time to fight me honorably; we only ever sparred for a few minutes at a time. “Do you think they’re ok?”

“I have faith in their strength, and in my wife’s ingenuity. They will still be alive when I get back.” In his shiny black eyes I could see his determination. I wished I could help more than I already was, but I didn’t want to think about what helping more would entail. I grimaced.

I called my father from my room. Something was stirred in me from talking with Therspar. I hadn’t spoken with my dad for a few months now.

I could hear him pick up the phone and fumble to put it against his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Dad, it’s Lee.”

“Oh! Hi Lee! What’s new? Er, why are you calling? Do you need help with something? Are you in trouble?”

“No, nothing like that. I just called to say hello.”

“Oh, well isn’t this a surprise! Hello!”

“Hello.”

We were silent for a few seconds. I swallowed, my mouth was too dry.

“So, Lee, how are your classes?”

“Pretty good. I dropped out of Art History, though.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. But I’m sure you were trying your best.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Well, I got fourth in a fencing tournament over the weekend.”

“Ah, that’s nice.”

I couldn’t think of anything more to say about myself. “So, are you still dating?”

“Ah, well, no. I have the house to myself still.”

“You should really find someone, I don’t like that you’re alone all the time.”

Dad chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll find the right woman eventually.”

Another long pause. I coughed, and I heard him do the same on the other side of the phone. “Well, it was nice talking to you,” I said. “See you later.”

“Oh, bye. It was nice talking to you, too. Bye bye!”

I hung up the phone and pushed it to the other side of the desk.

The next day in Psychology, we learned about the olfactory sense: the sense of smell. The TA told us that scent is the sense most closely linked with memory, and handed around some jars with smells in them. One of them smelled like dirt, and it reminded me of my childhood in Florida, where the ground was so moist you could drink it. Another jar held perfume, it reminded me of my aunt who was always shopping for perfume, and every time she’d come to visit she’d spray them on my Mom to see which one suited her the best. Every time she came to visit, it would take a week to get the smell out of the house. The jar with ginger reminded me of Jeff’s cookies again. A jar with disinfectant reminded me of the hospital where I stayed after I broke my leg skateboarding off the roof of my friend’s house. When I told my parents how I broke it, they laughed so hard it made me forget the pain and join them. I chuckled a bit just thinking about it. I’d completely lost that memory until that instant, and then it all came flooding back in crisp detail: my friend cheering me on as I slid off the roof to my death, the ambulance and frantic phone calls, the hospital where all the doctors were so nice to me, my parents laughing… my mother’s laugh was beautiful. I passed the jar of antiseptic to my left and sniffed the next jar. I’d never smelled anything like it before, but it nearly made me throw up. That would be the memory associated with it from now on.

It had been a few weeks since we first started sparring. I had cut him twice, and he had cut me ten times. But both of us were still alive, so the fight continued in the few minutes a day while I was home and my roommates weren’t. I was surprised that Therspar wasn’t starting to lose patience for me. He could have killed me so many times while my back was turned, but he was honorable. This day was the eleventh time he cut me. I called “Touche!” and we took a quick break. I examined the wound: a cut that went deep into my upper arm. “Good hit,” I said. I tried to smell it, but my nose was so clogged I couldn’t even breathe through it. During these battles my nose was always stuffy, I couldn’t smell anything.

Therspar cocked his head at me. “What are you doing?”

“Does this cut smell funny to you?” I asked, pointing my elbow at him.

“I can’t smell anything as a bird, I’m sorry,” he said. “But it looks fine to me, just put some medicine on it when you get inside.”

So he couldn’t smell anything. He said when we first met “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.” But how did he know he’d really remember? I picked up my sword and stood en garde, ignoring the pain radiating from my arm. “Lets go, once more.”

Fencing was the only class I went to regularly anymore. I stopped doing the homework for my other classes, and I got angry calls from my cast mates in Drama asking me where the hell I was. They could replace me, I don’t know why they were bugging me so much about it.

I took out my suit and put it on, holding the helmet under my arm. Wearing all this armor while I fought was starting to feel restraining and coddling. I spit on the tip of my foil and wiped a speck of blood off it, then curled the tip back down. Here we could only poke at each other with sticks.

I stood opposite Mikey Johansson, he was tall and lanky. We shook hands and bowed, then put on our helmets. The Sensei moved his hand out of the way and stepped back, and I lunged from my starting position. I was too far away though, Mikey was too slow. I was expecting him to be on top of me already, but he took the opportunity to cut at my head. I backed up and stomped my feet to make him pull his sword back. I attacked and he parried, I heard a clink on the floor but I ignored it. He took the opening but I countered and thrust into his shoulder. “Touche,” I said grinning.

It wasn’t until then that I heard the Sensei shouting “Stop! Stop!” I took off my helmet and stared at Mikey’s shoulder: the foil was stuck an inch into his skin. A red spot grew under his whites and blood was running down the blade onto my hand. The Sensei grabbed the sides of his head and cursed. “You idiot, the tip fell off!” I looked at the floor and saw the little piece of metal, the edge jagged and rusty. Mikey moved to pull the foil out, but the Sensei slapped his hand. “Don’t pull it out, you’ll just bleed more! Come on, I’ll bring you to the doctor.” They stumbled out of the gym and left the rest of the class to stand around. I took off my glove, soaked through with blood, and put it in my sports bag.

I got off the bus and walked to my apartment. Therspar was waiting on the branch, but I threw my arms up. “I’m unarmed today.” I told him about what happened in class, and he sat patiently at my side. “It wasn’t even that deep of a wound either, I have two on one arm that are worse.”

Therspar sighed. “He wasn’t fencing to hurt others, only for the sport. Just because you’re fighting to the death with me doesn’t mean you can treat others with that same attitude. If you can’t keep violent feelings under control, you’re no better than a murderer. You have to approach every fight with honor.”

I thought a bit about that. I was kind of angry when I was fighting him, I didn’t even stop when I heard the tip hit the floor. “Therspar, have you ever killed anyone?”

No answer. I looked down at him, and he was staring into the street.

“…Woah, are you ok?” I asked him.

He started trembling, his feathered chest moving out and in. “Lee, you have been a good friend to me. I don’t want to avoid the truth any longer.”

What had he ever lied about to me? His story? After the bird started speaking English I was willing to believe anything, but was I being too gullible?

“I haven’t told you how long I’ve been here, but it’s a bit longer than you’ve been thinking.”

“I was thinking about a month.”

“I’ve been in the world of humans for a little more than 300 years.”

I raised my eyebrows. “It’s taken you 300 years just to kill one person?”

“There’s the other thing. I haven’t lied to you… but you need to know the whole truth. Three hundred years ago, when, on that day, Firvon’s mage said, when he said to me… he told me I had to kill 100 humans to break the curse.”

The hand on my chin fell to my side.

“Over the past three centuries I’ve been… striving for this goal. I try to treat them all with the same honor and esteem I’m showing you.”

“…Which number am I?”

“You are the hundredth, the last sacrifice I need to break this curse and save my people.”

I started laughing; it sounded ugly and forced, but I couldn’t help myself. “But it’s been 300 years! How do you know it’s not too late?”

Therspar spun his head so quickly I could hear his neck cracking, “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t try?”

Inside my room, I was trembling a little. Inside my head, I was an earthquake. Number 100. I was being stupid to think I was special. I sat down at my computer and opened up a word document. I started typing, my fingers heavy and stiff.

Dear friends and family,

First of all, I want you to know that this wasn’t a suicide. I can’t really tell you what happened here, but know that I died with honor and dignity, in a battle for a great cause. I’m sorry to leave you so suddenly. Dad, please don’t blame yourself for my death. I love you, and I don’t want you to feel responsible or anything like that. Find a girlfriend and move on with your life. Jeff, you were a good friend, and you’ve always had my back. Sensei, thank you for teaching me how to fight for all these years, it helped me more than you know, probably more than it’s helped any other student of yours.

Please don’t dwell over me too much, that’s not what I wanted. I love you all.

Remember me,

Lee Cormac

I stared at the screen and scanned it for errors. I printed it out and put it in my desk. They’ll find it when they’re looking through my things. I don’t need to worry about saying goodbye. It felt like an invisible weight was taken off of me, bit by bit with every keystroke.

Paige was sitting alone in the living room, a textbook open on her lap, staring at the TV. “When did you get home?” I asked her.

“I ditched today,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were home.” I turned to walk back up to my room.

“So… I saw you talking with birds out front.”

I stopped.

“What is she, your girlfriend?”

I turned around and sighed at her. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of making me angry. “Yes, he’s a very good friend,” I said. “We have tea together every Thursday.”

“Oh, so it’s your boyfriend. How sweet!” She giggled into a pillow. “I didn’t know you had a thing for birds!”

I started back towards my room again. “Bye Paige!”

“You freak!” she called. I slammed the door behind me.

Mikey showed up to class with his arm in a sling, glaring at me intently. I almost chuckled at how much he was overreacting, but I thought about what Therspar said the day before. Violence has its place. “Hey Mikey,” I said with an outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry about yesterday. I got caught up with fighting and didn’t stop when I heard the tip hit the floor. Totally my fault, but I hope you get better quick.”

Mikey looked around the room, unsure of how to react. “No, it’s not your fault. Accidents happen, right? It’s no problem.” He grabbed my hand and shook it. I grinned.

The Sensei walked into the gym with my foil wrapped in a towel. “You should buy a new one, but I figured you’d still want this one for, you know, sentiment. I washed it off for you, so you can hang it on your wall. Never forget it.” I thanked him and bowed, then took it from the towel. My trusty sword, I’d forgotten how much I missed it. I cut with it and my teammates jumped out of the way; I laughed until they joined me.

I saw Jeff on my way to the bus stop. He waved me over and ran across the street to walk with me. “Hey man, I’m going to a party tonight, and was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“No thanks, I’m fine.” I didn’t really like college parties, they were too loud.

Jeff jogged around in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Hey, are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m fine, why?”

“Paige said she thought you were acting a little weird, and she was worried about you.”

Hah, Paige worried about me. “No, she was just seeing things. I’m fine, really.”

Jeff looked at my eyes to look for puffiness or something. “Are you sure? You’re not under any stress?”

“No.”

“Because you can always talk to me if you need help, with anything.”

I chuckled. Was he just doing this because he felt bad for being an asshole when I was first running away from Therspar? No, Jeff always did this. He would mess around, but he was there when you needed him. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He looked at me a little longer before smiling and patting me on the arms. “Hey, no problem. Just don’t get in anything you can’t get out of!” He ran off to catch the campus loop bus. I sat and waited for the downtown bus. Don’t get in anything you can’t get out of. This wasn’t something like that. I still wanted this, to help Therspar. After saying I would for so long, it would be impossible to back down even if I wanted, anyways. The bus pulled up and I pressed my way inside.

Another fight with Therspar. We had been fencing for so long, our battles were almost mechanical. No more surprises, no more cuts. We knew each other’s nuances so well we would just fight until we got tired. “Hey Therspar,” I said after the fight, “how come it took you so long to kill 100 people? If it’s really been 300 years, that would only be one person every three years.”

Therspar fluttered into the air and landed on my sports bag. “In the first year, I killed 23 humans. I looked at the monster I was turning into and became afraid, so I fell into a depression that lasted around 150 years. After that, I met a good friend who convinced me to continue my journey. He was the one who taught me about treating the ones I killed with respect, and I was able to go on.”

So treating someone with respect makes it ok to kill them?

“Make no mistake,” he continued as if reading my mind, “even for my goal, which I believe is noble, I can never forgive myself. But I will be sure to destroy Firvon 100 times over, one for each human he killed vicariously through me.”

At least that sounded fair. “What was the name of your friend?”

“Levi Heck.”

“Did you kill him?”

“…No.”

I leaned back against the tree and played with my tongue. Therspar stared at the ground with his tar droplet eyes. “Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. Therspar nodded and fluttered to a higher branch to sleep.

I went to the supermarket to grab some groceries, then went back home. In the kitchen, I could hear sobbing coming from down the hallway. I put the groceries away and walked to my room. The sobs were coming from behind the door. “Hello?” I called as I opened the door. Paige was sitting at my desk, holding a piece of printer paper in her hand.

“Lee!” She cried and slammed into me. I teetered under her, but I was able to keep her up. She was letting tears and snot run down my shoulder. “What is this?” she asked holding the paper in front of me. It was my goodbye note.

“What the hell were you doing going through my desk!?”

She just cried harder. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry” she screamed.

“Hey, it’s ok. Calm down.” I walked her to the bed and we sat down. She could hardly breathe, and every time she tried to inhale she hiccupped. “Hey, calm down. What’s wrong?”

“Was it me?” she asked. She was crushing my note in her hand. “It mentions Jeff and your Dad and your—fencing teacher, but it doesn’t mention me. Was it my—fault?”

Was what her fault? “Look, it’s not a suicide note. I don’t want to kill myself, and it’s not because of you. Give me some credit, I can stand up to you.”

She was still hiccupping. “I just thought that—because I was always—pushing you away… I was being—such a bitch, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry, nothing’s your fault, calm down.” I stroked her hair and shushed her, she started crying less. My shirt was drying and getting crusty from her tears, but I continued to hold her.

She looked up, eyes red and sunken. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

“I don’t know what I’d be able to do without you.”

“…Huh?” I opened my mouth to say something more, but before I could speak her lips were pressed against mine, holding my arms so tight I thought her fingers would break. Her smells entered my nose all at once: her shampoo, her makeup, her skin, so much that my brain couldn’t sort them all out. I would remember this moment for the rest of my life.

I woke up the next morning and Paige was still curled around me. I ran my hand down her arm for a bit before a sickening thought entered my head: was Jeff home yet? I jumped out of bed and put on pants, then looked in the living room and into the front yard. His car wasn’t there, he spent the night at the party. I went back to my room and urged Paige to go back to her room, she playfully kissed my neck as I pushed her upstairs. What had I done? Jeff was always there for me, he always had my back, and here I was playing around behind his. My stomach was turning.

Jeff didn’t come back until noon, and he was so hung-over he went straight to his room to sleep. He didn’t notice anything different about me. I looked out the window and saw Therspar waiting for me on his branch. I got dressed and went outside.

We stood face to face and bowed. I looked at our weapons; my foil was chipped and broken, rusty from snow and blood. Therspar’s beak was shining and flawless. How did he keep it like that? Why did Paige act like that? Was she crying because she thought she made me want to kill myself, or because she genuinely loved me? No, clear your head of those thoughts. I stood en garde. Therspar attacked first, lunging at my throat. I blocked and took a step back. Why was she always making fun of me? I parried an attack a bit too late, and Therspar nearly grazed my cheek. I stamped and countered, he backed up a bit and lunged forward. What did she mean by “pushing you away?” Did she ever even love Jeff? What would he do when he found out? Parry, riposte, Therspar did a counter-riposte but I was able to block it. Where was my note? Did I put it back in my drawer? A lunge at my side, blocked. A lunge at my head, blocked barely. I took a step back. Shut up! Concentrate! Block, step back, block, step back. I screamed to startle him and thrust at his head. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry.

Therspar had disappeared. I looked around the snow for him, the light reflecting off the snow making it hard to see. Did I get him? I looked down. Therspar’s beak was embedded completely in my chest. He pulled it out and looked me in the eyes. Don’t pull it out. You’ll just bleed more. I leaned forward, teetered in place, then fell on my back.

I can no longer see or smell anything, but I feel lips press against my forehead. “Thank you.”

He’s finally back to his former self. When he goes back down to Angmil and kills the evil king, rescues his family and reclaims the throne, he might make a statue of me. Or maybe he’ll only make one of Levi Heck. But I’d be fine with a ribbon.

Comments and Critiques

Thank you for reading my story. It’s a lot longer than the other ones we’ve had to workshop, so I hope you found that it was worth it.

What did you think about Lee and Therspar’s motivation?
Did Therspar’s first speech fit with the tone of the rest of the story, and if not do you have any suggestions on how I could fix the flow of it?
Are the fencing scenes easy to follow and/or exciting? (To anyone in fencing: did the fencing terminology make you cringe, or was it ok?)