There is a lot about me you don't know -Tales of Arcadia ENG

9- Trust

Douxie on the other hand...

'Huh? Where is he?'

The question almost distracted him, whether he wanted it or not. So much so that for a moment he risked not noticing another monkey about to throw itself at him. He still managed to hit it first.

Jim, before -but for a short amount of time- had felt extremely furious with the Wizard. The rage and the remaining little hint of dislike provoked by jealousy had flared strongly, making it hard for him to concentrate. But he still did, listening to the whole chat between him and the Witch.

He then somehow noticed that there had been something strange with how Douxie had been acting. He didn't know why. Probably because he had surprised him so many times the day before -between the actual feeling of liking that had been born instead- that it felt wrong and fake that he was acting like a dick, just how he had imagined him to be before. The whole controversy had been like a harsh slap to reality. To the point that he had sensed him lying even before the revelation. He didn't know how. He just did, even though he had not been sure. At all.

This is before the 'Cover the light source when I call you. Please trust me.' phrase, which had appeared on the floor and disappeared a few seconds after. And damn, hadn't he had problems stopping his friends from interfering before that happened. They all wanted to butt in inside the situation, without truly thinking of the risks -without thinking that they were three and no one else against a Witch, weird flying monkeys, and the dragon familiar as a hostage.

In any case, regarding the present, searching for the - very confusing- Hisirdoux Casperan between the chaos took Jim a while. Not for lack of effort, quite the contrary.

Only a little earlier he had been wounded, but helped by Aaarrrgh, which technically should have made him easy to find, but... Surely Jim would not have expected to find him on the ground, with the Witch standing over him, ready to strike.

********

Douxie, before Archie could shout his name again or get worried about him, raised his hips and pushed his legs as much as possible with all the strength he could muster. All to make the witch lose balance, falling onward. She, taken by surprise, did and he immediately slipped off from behind her, not having her weight on him anymore.

She staggered while trying to get up. She involuntarily let go of the weapon before, too, which got stuck in the ground at a short distance from her right arm.

She, however, was still ready to try again, like a vicious snake. Nemain, once she found her balance on her feet again, in no time launched herself at him another time, her sound playing aggressively, almost out of control, without a proper rhythm. He barely managed to dodge her, falling and rolling on the ground before returning to rise to his feet.

The Witch threw herself into another attack shortly after. And another. And another again, failing to hit him, but always coming very close. Too much for his taste.

After a while, she seemed to have run out of Magical Energy as well, her moves were more physical than anything else and her sound became low, almost imperceptible. She even tried to punch him in the face, she missed it but her punch was so strong that it whistled through the air.

Douxie was breathing heavily, his oxygen was going in and out too fast, and the beating of his heart almost blew out his eardrums. He felt weak and slow, slower the more time passed. It was frustrating, but the fatigue was getting to him.

He was tired. He was so, so tired. The lack of sleep, the almost continuous use of his magic, the hallucination, the stress that kept piling up... It was a while since he hadn't felt so tired.