Uncharted

[Caira Ayryn]

...

Caught in the midst of many bullets, the pair dodged the flurry of screaming metal until they were cornered.

A cocked gun raised to the back of Merik’s head and a voice echoed gleefully, “Well lookie here! If it ain’t the good-fer nothin’ Merik.” A sneer was added to the last part. “Coruscant scum. I been meanin’ to find ya one of the days. Din’ think it’d take me 'leven years, but I finally gotch’ya right where I want ya!”

Coming from behind and with the pistol still aimed at his head, more bandits in well worn garb surrounded the pair and Caira's head also proved to be a target, as when she moved slightly, rounds were cocked and the snouts trained on her.

“Yup, I won’t even waste a bullet iffin’ I don’t have to.” He released the gun and kicked Merik’s aside. “Glad to see you alive, boy... Heh. Fer now, considerin’ what I told you I’d do last time if I caught ye' round my parts. That is, iffin’ you’ve forgot. I'll give ye a good reminder. I'm gonna hang ye’ higher than ol’ sombrero there.” Laughter filled the leader’s lungs and the wretched pack followed suit.

Merik was stoic, and determined to remain silent. It was blatant that he had a history with these men. Something had gone bad with a deal, or perhaps, the man with the gun just didn't like the look of Merik's face. All lines pointed toward a wrongdoing, but the cause was no longer important. Caira was on the other side of their steadily cocked weapons, making them her enemies.

Caira noticed a distinguished scar running over the man’s eyelid and noticed that the one with the scar was a pale blue, blind, an the other brown. “OH!” suddenly the leader jostled over, “I see you got yourself here another whore! Good fer you. Well, not anymore. Not fer her either. Yer pretty lady friend probably had her sights on at me shootin’ eye.” The leader put the snout of his revolver against her cheek, she winced at the sudden heat from the still smoking barrel as he drew it across her lips with a sick and coiling smile.

“What’s her name laddie?” The man turned to Merik while the revolver idled on her lips

“That’s no concern of yours.” Merik said fearlessly. The man stood tall. Far above the bandits, and with much more reserve power than any of the men with blasters and pistols had brandished. Caira supposed that was what made Merik a distinguished man from the city, however she refused to let his origins define him, as she would hope he would view her own orphaned past the same.

The leader pulled back and aimed the barrel threateningly at the side of her head, her eyes widened and the leader seemed to enjoy her fear. But the action played into what Merik wanted, if they didn’t end up escaping this, she would share the same fate, promised by old blue-eye over there.

To the leader’s surprise, Caira chomped on the steel in front of her, hoping to make a dent. He was so startled he almost pulled the trigger, but he pulled back the revolver with a little struggle from her strong jaws.

“Hey Sheriff! This un’ here’s a fighter.” A sidekick jeered and winked at her.

Seriously? A bandit leader named Sheriff? Must’ve gone bad. Though she did see the value implied by the title and the power that it held over the land.

“Heh. Them’s is always the fun ones.” Sheriff said agreeing while his startled expression faded but he still eyed the girl curiously.

“Hey, we should call ‘er Jaws.” One suggested.

Caira stood, defying their 'hostage' situation with a roar of retaliation. Having been brought to her knees by a dishonorable man was never a way to die, even if she was to be reborn again. “Ayryn.” Immediately the gang, whom had not finished playing with Merik -they battered and yanked his hair, bruised his bones, choked his throat and singed his skin- all grew silent and looked at her with fumes still blowing from their nostrils.

“Eye run?” Sheriff translated how her words sounded to him. “How’s that? Are ya makin’ fun of me eye or somethin'?”

“Nah, Sheriff, that’s the name of the girl!” One deduced and pointed.

“Ah! Yes, the un' from the Kingdom, I hear.” Sheriff nodded to his pack.

Caira seized the chance to bluff, for she was remarkably good at it, probably because she had learned to read the truth and was familiar with the lies people so frequently told. “That’s right. Names have power, funny though, I heard of yours only a moment ago.” The insult to his power was implied, and it's challenge bore more impact than any straight label or cursing name she could have flung his way.

“Tsk. Tisk. Women shouldn’t talk like that, they should really learn to sweet talk a man.” Sheriff put her in her place.

"I'm a knight. And you are no man."

This earned Caira a hard slap to her face, however she had anticipated it and swung her head away, casting it with the momentum, almost dodging it fully before he began to choke her by the neck as punishment. Vanity in front of his peers meant much to this man. A weakness she could easily exploit.

Meanwhile, during a her brawling bash of words with the Sheriff, Merik had his own problems as the people he had assumably wronged in the past were now clobbering him with fists and profuse strangulation. During his blows, someone held him at gunpoint threatening to shoot him in a painful area if he resisted the trouncing medley in any way.

“AYRYN.” Caira shouted her title as his hands closed in around her neck, little did he know this was exactly what she had wanted him to play into, she swung him with the force and weight of her body toward Merik, the Sheriff crashed into the one holding him at gunpoint, this caused the gun to veer away from its course and misfire.

“Merik!” she said his name, telling him that the events had changed from defense to offense. Time tumbled with movement and immediately he swung his fist into the chest of another man, the closest and the one that had given him a couple of bruised ribs, the man was thrown backward and gasped for air in the struggle. The next the one on his right, with the gun was lurched away with a wave in the air and shoved him with invisible force. Following this motion, he drew his pistol and fired laser shots at the rest of the crusaders and depleted their forces one by one. Strangely enough, he was able to evade some of the firepower because of the beating they gave him, a man can’t draw his gun if his hand is in a fist.

Caira had barely drawn her sword. But now the Sheriff stood alone, two against one and unarmed for in the chaos of it all, his pistol had fallen in the sand. “You made a mistake, Sheriff[/].” Merik spat out the words, his eyes growing with glinting anger. In his injured state, he looked only more ruthless, covered in sand and his hair was grossly tangled, and his face was splattered with small specks of darkened, dried blood.

“You didn’t kill me when you had the chance! Just like last time. But let me say this, you won’t get another chance to kill me. And this time I’ll make sure [i]you are dead.” Merik raised his revolver now, aiming it at his enemy's head.

“More will come to avenge me!” the Sheriff said, never one to plead for mercy on his deathbed. A respectable bandit, it was too bad he wasn't a loyal friend.

A villainous smile grew on half of Merik’s face as he shot the Sheriff in the abdomen and waited a very painful second (especially for the Sheriff) before shooting him in the heart and ending his misery. For a moment, he forgot Caira.

“It’s mutiny boys!” Merik laughed mordaciously in his authority asserted by his power as the injured men, and fallen men who were consequently unable to move. Some grumbled on the ground drenched in their own blood, all bleeding out, all waiting to die. Merik alone had just eradicated an entire gang of bandits. In less than a minute. The defeated group had now left their corpses for the buzzards.

“Some El Dorado eh? Lets get out of here.” he said to Caira after carefully inspecting the slap his enemy had given to her face and their shoes in the sand padded onward.