Chapter 1
THE SILVER LIGHT of the full moon bathed the capital city of Lorne with its glow. At this late hour, all was silent from the commercial warehouses to the massive corporate towers. Not a whisper to disturb the darkness. Everyone had long since retired to their homes to rest.
The sound of colliding metal echoed in the darkness, cutting through the silent night like a sharp knife. Again and again, the repeated clash of steel sang with a steady rhythm from a vein of back alleys that ran behind a strip of trendy stores.
A tall woman appeared from an alleyway, and the warm glow of the streetlights stretched her shadow across the concrete road. Her long raven-black hair flowed gracefully down the center of her back from a high ponytail. Her narrow, pale jade eyes showed the keen focus of a trained warrior. Her formfitting black clothes concealed her ivory skin from sight, camouflaging her in the darkness. They were tailor-made for stealth and flexibility. She held a masterly crafted curved blade with practiced ease, and the folded steel glinted beautifully in the moonlight. A pistol with the word “falcon” etched onto the barrel sat nestled in the holster strapped to her left leg.
She jumped against one wall and propelled herself up toward the opposite, and ricocheted between the narrow walls of the alley with the strength and agility unseen in a normal human. With a final leap, she landed on the rooftop in a readied battle stance. She stood still as a statue, her body prepared, and her eyes scanned the smooth concrete slab of the roof. She searched the stillness for signs of her opponent’s approach.
Her attention was instantly caught by the whisper of muffled footsteps. The female warrior took a slight step to avoid her opponent’s blade as it plummeted down toward her back. She twirled in place, and the weapon and her arm moved as one to strike her attacker in a wide arc. The silver buckles on his black jacket gleamed in the moonlight as he arched backward, and her razor-sharp blade cut clean through a stray lock of his long golden hair. He snapped upright like a spring and swiped her sword away to clear his short retreat, his intense blue eyes still tracking her moves. The lock of hair floated smoothly to the ground, its color shimmered with its golden hue and turned to jet-black. The attacker gathered himself into a proud stance.
The woman sprung forward, her sword dead set on her enemy. He stepped back and deflected her steel with a flick of his blade. The woman recovered in a heartbeat and unleashed a flurry of swift attacks. The swords’ clash rippled through the still night air. Their battle flowed from strike to block like an elaborate dance, every movement connected to the next in a show of each warrior’s skill.
Her opponent raised his sword high and forced it down on her. The woman threw herself backward, narrowly avoiding the hefty sword, and landed flat on her back with a rough thud. He seized the opportunity of her vulnerability and struck down at his fallen enemy. The woman rolled across the coarse concrete as the sword dug into the floor beside her. Tossing her legs up, she bounded into a backward somersault and landed in a low battle stance.
He thrust his blade down at the woman as if he were trying to skewer a small animal. She swiftly scurried across the pavement like a spider, his strikes flaring sparks from the stone roof. Her luck ran out as she felt the edge of the rooftop at her heel. She cursed under her breath at her misfortune.
“Caught ya,” the man proclaimed confidently as he swiped his large blade down at the woman. She leaped to her feet and braced her sword to receive her opponent’s blade as it barrelled down on her. She met his smug satisfaction with stern defiance to mask her weakness. The superior strength of his athletic build with the addition of gravity gave her attacker a clear advantage. He pushed his sword down, trying to force her arms to buckle under the pressure. The woman’s teeth gritted and her knuckles whitened as she held him at bay, but she was painfully aware she couldn’t keep up this struggle. She could feel the strength in her arms wavering and her knees starting to wobble. He was fighting smart and playing to his strengths. His seemingly frantic strikes had been meant to lead her to a corner. She would have been more in a mood to commend him for his tactic if it hadn’t worked so well. She had to find a way to turn the tables.
With a quick little motion, she tilted her blade downward and redirected the momentum of her opponent sending him into a stagger. The steel of his weapon screeched viciously as it slid down the length of her sword. She spun like a top, sweeping his legs out from under him with a smooth motion. He fell flat on his back, the surprise hitting harder than the roof. She leaped to her feet and thrust her blade down at her fallen enemy. Her sword skipped off the roof as the male fighter rolled away to safety.
As a show of respect, she held her advance as he scrambled to his feet, keeping her keen jade eyes on him. She charged him with an intense ferocity. He recoiled as the woman’s blade whistled just inches from his chest, and he sprung back to counter. With only a few efficient movements the female sidestepped and drove her blade down on his, pinning it to the ground. The man heaved up against her sword in a show of strength the woman strained to match, her arms burned with fatigue. With a heavy grunt she pushed him back and landed a solid kick to his exposed chest. He staggered backward, breathing heavily as he struggled to recover. He settled, catching his breath, and formed a defensive stance.
The warriors were wrapped in a focused standoff. Their eyes fixated on each other, studying the slightest movement, keeping their swords readied. The moonlight illuminated the intricate carvings on each fighter’s weapon. The pattern of swirls etched on the woman’s sword ran along the blade like rising streams of smoke. The man’s steel was decorated with symbols from a foreign and ancient culture.
Suddenly a wide grin crept over the woman’s lips and evolved into a soft chuckle, her stance remaining steady. “I have to commend you on your cleverness, Claymore. Luring me into a corner like that.”
Claymore returned her grin with a toothy smile, his body still ready for battle. “That advantage did not last long, unfortunately. You turned the tide swiftly. I knew you would. The stories about you speak well of your prowess, Luna.”
Luna’s wide grin turned into a sweet, but forcefully innocent smile. “I wasn’t aware my abilities had earned such a reputation. I’m flattered. You’re not so bad yourself, Claymore.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Coming from you, that is a real compliment.”
Luna’s sweet smile then shifted back into a stern, focused stare. “You are a formidable opponent, and this fight has been enjoyable but only one of us can come out victorious. We must hurry; daylight will come soon.”
Claymore nodded. “You’re absolutely right.” His expression changed to a hardened gaze. “Let’s stop playing around and get this over with.”
Without another word, they charged each other, leaving fear and hesitation behind. His blade whistled like a bird of prey, cutting through the air at Luna’s midsection. Predicting his attack, Luna leaped over the sword and planted her boot into Claymore’s face. She pushed off and twisted into an acrobatic flip, landing gracefully on her feet as he tumbled to the ground.
He jumped to his feet, staggering to recapture his stance. The struggle didn’t go unseen by his opponent. Luna could see his labored breathing and shaking arm behind the armor of his warrior’s will.
Claymore charged forward, belting out an intense battle cry, and struck out at Luna with wild abandon. He heightened his strength and aggression, thinking Luna may lose her footing. He was playing a dangerous game of chicken, hoping she would budge before she realized his weakening state.
However, the sudden show of unhinged ferocity was nothing more than a thin layer of deception to Luna’s sharp observation. Luna kept calm like still water in deep contrast to her opponent. She could read his dulling attacks like a street sign. She knew victory would come with endurance.
Claymore swung his blade for Luna’s head. Luna arched her body into a backward crab, the blade passing just inches over her. She sprung her legs up and cartwheeled back, landing a firm kick to Claymore’s jaw. He stumbled back as Luna landed gracefully on her feet and rushed for him, unleashing a series of short swings. The sound of clashing steel echoed through the night as Claymore struggled to block Luna’s assault.
Luna focused her attack on the hole in Claymore’s defense created by weakening arms wielding a large weapon. The blow fell true as her cold steel bit into the flesh of his arm. He stepped backward, retreating to a safe distance.
Keeping his eyes targeted on his opponent, he freed one hand to examine his arm. A sharp sting shot through his arm as his fingers touched the gash. His eyes quickly darted back and forth from Luna to his fingers painted scarlet with his blood. Luckily, the blood was light and the cut not too deep . . . this time. She could see the hint of panic in his eyes as he scanned the battlefield. He was taking an assessment of his options, searching for openings and weaknesses, but Luna gave him nothing. She was in ideal form and kept her expression calm as a spring breeze. His eyes were then drawn to the pistol holstered to her leg; she hadn’t touched it the entire battle. It was only a backup; she always concentrated her strategy around her sword. Claymore retreated, leaping to the rooftop of the neighboring building.
Luna sighed and shot Claymore an irritated frown. “Are you going to continue this rooftop chase until dawn, or are you going to try and defeat me?”
“In due time, but first, could you answer a question for me? Why do you use a sword?” Claymore asked. “We live in an age of modern conveniences. We have cars, vast cities, computers, and weapons that make duals like this a breeze. You don’t use your weapon to augment your powers, or I would have seen it by now. So why do you use a sword as your main weapon?”
Luna eyes shifted to her sword as she contemplated the inquiry. “Tradition. My grandfather taught my father to fight with a sword, and he taught me. To my family, it is the ultimate show of skill and strength. But it’s not that reason alone. When you’re in close combat with a sword, you get a sense of your enemy that more convenient weaponry can’t give you. To me, duels are about bettering myself and giving my opponent the respect of an honest test of skill. It’s not simply about winning.”
Claymore nodded. “I can relate to your morality. In a perfect world, all warriors would share your view. But this is far from a perfect world, and I have an entirely different reason for using a sword.”
He raised his left hand and placed the palm on the flat of his blade. Suddenly, his sharp blue eyes morphed into brilliant silver, as if they were filled with molten metal. A grayish glow emanated from his hand and transferred into his sword.
His blade began to move and come alive. Twisting and extending longer and longer, rising into the air like a steel snake. Luna immediately recognized the danger and sprinted for Claymore to close the distance between them. A feat of that caliber required concentration. She had to pull the battle back to close combat; he wouldn’t be able to keep focus while fending her off.
Claymore’s blade struck down at Luna, forcing her backward and halting her advance. She deflected the attack with a swift swipe of her sword, but it just recoiled back into the air. The steel snake swayed with a smooth flow, patiently waiting for her next move. It was as if Claymore could see through the senses of his creation.
Luna cursed under her breath. Claymore wasn’t going to let her anywhere near him. She stared at the sword trying to work out a plan. She could fight Claymore’s creation, but that would get her nowhere—she couldn’t wound a sword. Claymore was weakening; maybe if she waited him out he would falter and lose control of his ability. The more she rolled the plan around in her thoughts, the more she didn’t like it; it ran on too many maybes.
The blade shot out at Luna with the speed of a bullet. She gasped in surprise and jumped out of its path as it sped past her. She recovered and sprung into a low defensive stance. The second strike was faster then the first. He’s gaining more control over the metal the longer he works with it. This is bad. If he keeps this speed and control, I won’t have a chance to get within striking distance. Unfortunately, closing the distance is out of the question. But maybe . . . Her mind shifted to her gun. That would certainly break his concentration, but under the circumstances, she couldn’t guarantee a clean shot. She could miss or even kill him. No. Claymore is just a Knight doing his duty for his Master. There has to be a better way.
The blade turned midair to double back and strike again. Luna sidestepped and swiped at the blade, knocking it off its path. It recoiled up above her and began to rain down rapid attacks, like a cobra hunting a swift mouse.
The steel construct shot like a bullet on a deadly trajectory for Luna. With an instinctive gesture, she blocked the weapon with hers, struggling to push it away, but her strength was quickly faltering. Sparks flared and faded in the night as the weapons clashed. A faint groan of pain escaped her lips as the metal beast’s sharpened edge bit into her upper arm. Blood trickled slowly down her skin as she continued to push against the metal snake.
“You think this makes us even, Claymore?” She spat between clenched teeth as she rolled onto her back and used her sword to fling Claymore’s weapon away from her. The steel snake clanged on the rock then slithered back to its readied form as Luna rolled gracefully to her feet.
The sword lunged for her chest too quickly to block. She threw herself backward, falling hard on the solid concrete. A pained wheeze escaped her as she struggled to catch her breath. Luna forced her body into mobility in time to see the blade careening down toward her. She rolled across the rough pavement, narrowly avoiding the weapon as it bit deeply into the roof. Much like a trapped animal, the steel snake twisted and struggled to free itself from the concrete’s grip.
Luna had to act at that very second or else she would lose her chance at victory. She had only one opportunity to end this fight without unnecessary bloodshed. She reached out her hand and laid her palm on the flat of the blade. “Now it’s time for you to see my ability, Claymore,” she whispered as her eyes flared into a radiant azure blue dancing with sparks of electricity around her irises. A surge of lightning formed from her hand and on to Claymore’s steel snake, traveling rapidly to its wielder.
Claymore screamed as the electrical charge burned into his hand, forcing him to drop his weapon. The blade withdrew, and the menacing steel snake morphed back into a long sword embedded in the roof. Claymore fell to his knees, clutching his charred hand as the silver in his eyes morphed back to a sharp blue.
Claymore froze at the cold touch of steel lightly pressed against his neck. He slowly turned his gaze behind him to see Luna at his back, his sword in her hand. Her expression was as stern as the steel she wielded. His heart leaped into beats of panic. The woman with whom he had fought furiously now held his very life at the tip of her sword.
“Concede, Knight,” she said coldly. “Concede defeat.”
Claymore closed his eyes and hung his head low. There was nothing he could do. She was right; this battle was over. The shame he felt in his heart was as painful as the burns on his hand. “Luna, I admit my defeat. You have won this duel tonight.”
Luna withdrew her sword and sheathed it before offering a friendly hand to aid Claymore to his feet and handing him back his sword. Luna’s pleasant smile was unwavering as Claymore took his sword in hand. The tension and high emotions of the battle had disappeared like the moon fading to the dawn. They faced each other now as equal Knights, no longer opponents.
“Now I believe you owe me something as per the conditions of victory,” Luna said, her tone all business.
Claymore nodded his head solemnly. “Of course.” He sheathed his long sword while keeping his burnt hand close to his body and then pulled out a small data drive from his jacket pocket. He tossed the device to Luna with a casual flick, and she snatched it from the air. Luna gave the data drive a critical gaze as she examined it. “Satisfied?” he asked.
Luna’s eyes turned back to meet Claymore’s gaze. “You would stake your honor on the authenticity of this data?”
Claymore humbly bowed his head to Luna. “It’s exactly the same data our Masters confirmed earlier. You have my word. We both fought a close duel, and I have lost. This was a fair wager between our Masters, and it would disgrace me to disrespect that. The device contains the information and evidence we have gathered on our common enemy and their wrongdoings, exactly as was discussed.”
The smile disappeared from Luna’s face, and her eyes filled with sympathy. “My apologies, Claymore. My intent was not to call into question your honor, but to cover my bases. We are playing a dangerous game, and one can’t be too careful.”
“It’s of no consequence,” he said, waving away the apology with a careless gesture. “I understand your suspicions, but I assure you they are unfounded. My honor is a treasure that I hope to keep with me until my dying day.”
The smile returned to Luna’s lips. “You are an admirable man, Claymore. Not many put value into treasures they cannot see or touch, but I believe them to be the most precious of them all.” Luna’s gaze met Claymore’s steely blue eyes, and her train of thought suddenly halted. She could’ve sworn she saw something hiding behind his friendly face. She saw guilt in his eyes, and she didn’t know why. She brushed the uneasy feeling from her mind, reasoning that the guilt was most likely due to his loss.
She shook her head. “It’s a pity our Masters couldn’t work together in this matter. I feel the likes of our common enemy can’t be taken down by one knight alone.” She then looked at the data drive she had won. “But with this, my Master and I may have a chance.” She placed the device in her pocket and gave Claymore a courteous bow. “Goodbye, Claymore,” she said, bidding him farewell before she vanished into the night.
As she leaped away from rooftop to rooftop, she tried to shake the odd feeling of dread that was weighing heavily on her mind. She’d hoped that there wasn’t more behind the shame she saw in Claymore’s eyes.