Leonidas was having the time of his life; the look on Willow's face was enough of a reward for lying. Paired with her reluctant cooperation, it was a complete win.
"Dirty flower bastard. Go hang yourself on a tree somewhere."
Safe to say, Willow was less than thrilled, but who cared! Leonidas certainly didn't. He stood from his throne as it disappeared beneath him, and stretched in a very awkward manner—turns out not having an arm makes even stretching hard.
"Cursing isn't fit for a lady, my dearest Willow. Especially not for a...dignified warrior such as yourself. It is dishonorable and distasteful."
Of course, lying is perfectly fine.
Honor came in many different shapes and forms, and lying was a coward's mark. Yet it was exactly these cowards who stayed alive for the longest, simply by virtue of their nature.
Leonidas was an aspiring knight, yes. But he was also a man with a good head on his shoulders, which is to say, he had a brain and knew how to use it.
Leonidas was forced out of his...enlightenment as a blade darker than obsidian headed straight towards his neck.
Woah!
The strike was near perfect, so seamless as if it were a river, moving with lethal grace, ready to detach his perfect head from the good pair of shoulders.
Leonidas twisted his neck at an odd angle, his newly enlightened body proving itself useful. With the same movement, he twisted his arm, made a mental image of a flower bursting from the ground beneath his mad aggressor, opening like the maw of an ancient dragon.
While doing so, Leonidas dropped down and shot his right leg forward. Ahh, but Willow was no pushover. She seemed to have anticipated his movement.
Her own sword twisted along its path, changed into a liquid which whipped in his direction.
Boom—!
The ground beneath Willow burst into a flood of stone, a mesmerizing rose of pure ruby-like crystal, crashed into her body.
Pushed in a corner, Willow dropped her attack, liquid metal turning into gas as it flew at blinding velocity, wrapping around her body in a protective embrace of pure air.
A ripple of force followed, blooming from the point of impact, crashing into Leonidas, who struggled to keep his bearings.
A plume of rainbow dust rose, and when it fell, Leonidas felt cold metal resting on his skin, exactly on the crimson line of frozen blood, made by the same person to whom the blade belonged.
"It seems we're at an impasse, does it not?"
Leonidas hesitated for a second, then answered in a tone of cold delight. "It truly does."
When and how Willow had managed to get this near Leonidas, only god knew. But what he did know was that her blade was resting on his neck, and the rose he had made earlier was a thought away from slicing her body in half.
If Leonidas recalled correctly, this phenomenon had a name assigned to it in Art's world. It was something along the line of...a Mexican standoff...?
Leonidas didn't know what a Mexican was; his understanding of Art's world was rudimentary at best. But he did know what a standoff meant.
Now what to do? Willow seems mighty mad at me, and if we keep fighting like this, that horrid bell will sound again, and we'll all die a bloody death. How amazing.
His tone was as dry as the situation...which was pretty dry. Imagine a massive plains that never gets rain...basically a desert. Leonidas was in that desert, starved of rain and deprived of hope.
How poetic.
His ramblings were interrupted, once again, by Willow.
"Now listen here, Art. You can be as sarcastic and confident as you want, but threaten me again, and I'll stab you in the eyes, for real this time. Stupid bloody bastard."
Leonidas stared at her with his cerulean eyes for a long moment, then spoke.
"Threaten, an interesting word. But you are mistaken, my dearest Willow. I never once threatened you, nor did I force cooperation out of you. Both of us know that if you want to leave, I can't stop you. You're simply stronger than me.
Yet you stayed. You blame me, but for what? All along, everything up till this moment was your decision. The tree of fate is a culmination of the collective choices of everyone. You chose to approach me, you chose to talk with me, you chose to face off against me, you chose to listen to my plan.
Everything till now was what you chose. In fact, it was you who threatened me, not the other way around."
Leonidas paused and took a massive gulp of air, Willow's blade scraping against his skin.
"Now it is your choice, either we can fight an uncertain battle, one that very well might end up with both of us dying, or we work together and eventually find a way out of this godforsaken shithole."
Willow stared at him, then coughed awkwardly. She regained her composure and spoke in an apologetic tone.
"...You make a good pair of points. I suppose traveling with you might not be the worst experience in the world. Well, as far as this world goes."
She withdrew her sword, and only when Leonidas removed the body-sized flower behind her did she step forward. She thrust her hand forward, palms open, clearly inviting.
"To a fruitful alliance and eventual escape...I guess."
Leonidas smiled in response, "To a fruitful alliance and eventual escape."
What an emotional scene it would have been—two people who had been trying to kill each other putting aside their differences and working towards the same goal—had Leonidas not planned everything from the start.
Faithfully Faithless...I truly live up to the name. Maybe the Labyrinth was right after all.