Cirque Du Freak // Daughters of Fate

Chapter 31

Evonne

My twin drew her sword from the sheath, making a satisfying shing sound as the tip left its container. I realized I had to do the same or risk being cut to pieces. Fumbling with the hilt, I managed to pull the blade free before she closed the distance.

The first strike was brutal. She had been more prepared than me, so when her weapon connected with mine, the metal twanged in my hand, sending a vibration that had almost caused me to drop it. My twin also had more purpose. She was enjoying this fight. I wanted to avoid it. I knew that wasn't the mind set I should have. That would decide the battle before it was even finished, so I focused on disarming her. If I could do that, maybe I could get her to see sense.

When her blade came at me again, this time I blocked it firmly. The sword did not ring in my hands and I pushed her weight off of me. Her weapon slid off towards the ground, but she quickly pulled it back and away, intending to bring it down like she was chopping wood on her third attack. I lifted my sword up and blocked that too, frustrating her even more. We were getting no where, and this was because I wasn't throwing blows back at her. Meanwhile, the Vampires and Vampanese were yelling at us, making gestures that were to either urge us on or curse the other side. The noise also made it hard to hear myself think and was growing to an unbearable level. 

The wong sound of my twin's blade clashing fiercly with mine snapped me out of my daze. I had to pull myself back together before she hit bone instead of metal. Scrapping noises followed as we both fought to over throw the other. Though my twin had the mindset of a fighter, her body just wasn't up to it. I was the stronger one in body because of the years I spent out on the street at night with my friend Savanna. We were used to running a block or two, and possibly fighting off a guy who grew a little to attatched to one of us. The Vampanese and Vampires might as well as thrown a snappy poodle and a skittish pitbull together in the ring to decide the fate of their world.

I ended up pushing the weight of her sword off of me once I realized that detail. One look at her skin and nails and I could tell she'd led a pampered life before something terrible happened to her. Something that she blamed me for. But why? What evidence did she have that pinned me as the prime suspect?

I was out of breath as we backed up from each other, both of us studying how we should make our next approach. It was enough time for me to put a couple of words in. 

"What's your name?" I asked, sides heaving and fingers repositioning themselves on the hilt of my sword which was getting slimy with sweat.

She cocked her head at me and raised an eyebrow. Apparently this wasn't what she had expected to hear out of my mouth. 

"Remee."

Her tone was cold like the freezing air around us, but it was like mine. Maybe the slightest bit deeper, giving her a more mature sound, but still like mine. Her hair was like mine, the eyes like mine (if not a bit crazed), and we were about the same height from what I could tell. While I was the perfect weight for my size because of the exercize I had gotten from mid-night jogging, she had become her perfect weight size from her finicky eating. That meant I had more muscle while she hardly had any muscle at all. Further proof that she had come from a privledged family while I had grown up in the slums.

"Well, are you going to tell me yours or what?" Remee snapped at me.

"Evonne." I replied, not angry at all, back at her. It had been my fault after all. I'd gotten too absorbed into watching her.

She huffed like I'd just told her a joke and she was trying to keep from laughing. It was around this time I realized the crowd had quieted down, wanting to hear our banter. "What kind of name is that?" She scoffed, purposely teasing me to see what kind of reaction she could get out of me.