The Laughing Swordsman

Pride from the bottom of Apollo's heart swelled.

Pride of his very existence.

No matter what anyone told him, no matter what he experienced, and no matter how many times he failed...

Nothing could take this pride from him.

He knew what he experienced and he lived through it.

Even if the entire world came crashing down, that fact wouldn't change.

And so, Apollo kept thrashing his bokken around. Countless demons fell by his sword.

His laughs rang out in the forest.

Apollo could hardly tell how much time passed, the only thing on his mind was to swing his bokken.

Apollo's body was already emaciated and pale from blood loss. Yet, his swings only became stronger and faster.

The slashes became violent, ripping apart demons like they were paper.

He did not care how many came at him. If anything, he hoped there would be more.

He lost himself in the fight.

...

Apollo's overheated body was slowing cooling and the horde of demons slowly thinned out.

Apollo's bokken slashed, killing three demons directly. There were only two left in front of him.

The demons froze in place, hesitating.

Suddenly, one demon bolted away. The demon that was left looked towards its fleeing compatriot with his jaw agape, like he couldn't believe he was being abandoned.

However, there was little time for the demon to ruminate about being abandoned as a bokken split its skull half.

Apollo's body was cold and looked like a set of twigs. Yet, strangely enough, his current priority wasn't to fix himself up but chase after the fleeing demon.

"You want to run now?"

Apollo laughed as his steps crashed onto the ground, sending snow flying.

"This is your own fault."

Apollo caught up to the demon and sent his bokken towards the back of its chest. With a bang, a hole was formed on the demon's chest, sending it to the afterlife.

Once all the demons were dead, a strong sense of vertigo assaulted Apollo.

His will was still burning, but his body could not keep up.

He fell to his knees. The knives covering his body ripped further inside.

He wanted to stand. He refused to stop here, there was still so much to do.

But like a cruel twist of fate, his consciousness slipped from his grasp.

And everything became black.

...

Apollo was dreaming. He saw himself swinging his bokken fighting off shadows of knives with every turn.

However, some slipped past, piercing into his body.

His swings were getting slower, to his dismay.

He gritted his teeth as hard as he could.

"No... I must keep fighting..."

Yet, contrary to his wishes, he could no longer lift his bokken.

And with that, countless knives pierced into his body, claiming his soul.

Apollo woke up with a start.

He suddenly sat up, feeling his old wounds reopen.

He rubbed his eyes and his blurry vision gradually came into focus.

Apollo was resting on a small bed, made from thatch.

The room was quite small, made from wood, and had a small dirty window.

The wooden flooring had cracks in it, a testament to how long this room was used.

Apollo rubbed his head with his hand.

"Hmm... why am I here? ...Mommy?"

Apollo looked down at himself. He was covered in layers of cloth, smeared in dried blood.

"Ah! What happened to me!"

A dull ache spread from his whole body, causing Apollo to pout.

"Mmm... why do I feel all itchy?"

Apollo looked to his side. There was a wooden table next to the bed. It was worn just like the rest.

The table held various bowls with remains of food still inside of them. They were scattered, some laying about on their own, while some were stacked up making a tower of fifteen.

Apollo licked his lips.

He was feeling a little hungry, but not in any desperate need. His body that was previously emaciated now looked normal, albeit skinny.

Apollo looked around the room, trying to search for someone.

"Mmm... mommy?"

The door to the room clicked open.

"Ah, you're awake!"

A short young girl walked in, possibly the same age as Apollo. She had long brown hair that cascaded all the way down to her waist. She had a gentle smile on her face and bright blue eyes.

She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with a thin black coat on top. Her legs were revealed because of her shorts and she walked around barefoot.

In her hands was a bowl with plenty of rice inside. Sprinkled within were tiny pieces of celery.

Apollo tilted his head.

"Mommy?"

The young girl giggled innocently.

"No, silly! How could I be your mommy!"

Apollo nodded with understanding.

"Hmm... who are you then?"

The young girl walked into the room and set the bowl on the table.

After that, she put both hands on her sides and stuck her elbows out.

"Hehe, my name is Maya! Only the coolest person you'll ever meet!"

Apollo clapped excitedly.

"Wow! So cool!"

Maya smirked.

"What is your name? You don't seem so bad yourself."

Apollo tilted his head to the side.

"Mm... oh yeah, Apollo!"

Maya stuck her hand out, ready for a handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, Apollo."

Apollo stared at her hand curiously.

"Yes, nice to meet you, Maya!"

Maya continued holding her hand out, waiting for Apollo to shake it. However, Apollo simply rubbed his chin and continued staring at it.

The corner of Maya's lip twitched.

"Um... are you going to shake my hand?"

Apollo gasped.

"Ah! Sorry."

Apollo proceeded to hold onto Maya's fingers and jiggled them back and forth.

"Am I doing it correctly?"

Maya smiled bitterly.

"Em, close enough!"

Apollo turned his head towards the bowl of rice.

"Could I... eat that?"

Maya laughed.

"Of course! I brought it here just for you."

Maya pulled out a wooden spoon and used it to take some rice off the top. Apollo extended his head and bit down.

Maya giggled.

"Hehe, when you were sleeping you would always be so eager to eat the rice off my spoon. You also held onto your wooden sword so tightly!"

Apollo finished eating and was about to open his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a muffled yell.

"MAYA, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH OUR FOOD?"