The Blade and the Cycle

"Whoa there, kiddos," Actium calls from the rooftop. "Don't make me break playtime up."

He springs from the chimney.



This is not a cultural thing.
A sword in the hand says, I want to have a duel and show my skill.
A crossbow in the hand says, I want to hurt you.
And Actium knows Aquinna. She wouldn't pull a crossbow on anyone without rich reason.



Actium lands near the two combatants. Aquinna glances at him, then locks back onto target. "Great," she says. "Karstrix is here."
"What's going on?" asks Actium, taking a step back from the standoff. "I can't imagine any fresh-blooded young man complaining when you wave something around in front of them, Quinn, but a crossbow? Why the hardware?"

"This craven bitch insulted my prowess in front of my Section," hisses Gelton, "and now she denies me my duel."

"I said no, Gelton, you overranked puke." Aquinna's trigger finger twitches. "Now sheathe the cutlery, if those shaky hands of yours can strap them. I'll even bow out of the plaza if it'll make you feel any better about your shitty, inflated ego."

"You dare cast aspersions on my rank and my bravery? Over the stock of a crossbow?" Gelton takes a step forward. Aquinna takes a step back. "Unsheathe your bodkin, dammit. I will have satisfaction."

"You'll have a hole in your head first, Gelton. Don't test me."

"What's the matter, Aquinna?" asks Actium. "It's just a duel. We live for duels."
"It-" Aquinna hesitates. "I don't feel like it tonight. Back off, Gelton."

"You coward." Gelton does not back off. "Fight me."