The Dance Lesson

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

The answer? Something wonderful. At least that is what I thought it is. As I lose myself fully into the embrace of her arms. Dancing away to the passable music of the dance hall band. It is awkward at best, as my stiff arms and two left feet struggle to keep time with her languorous, seductive and sinewy dancing.

All the while her eyes sought for and engages mine with that reassuring gaze of hers. As my nervous eyes does all it can to look away and look for an excuse to run.

The music thick as the finest malt liquor, drowning me in its beats, caressing me with its melody and intoxicating me within its high. All throughout, I am conscious of her unbelievably delicious hands upon me, her body warm and sensual casually leaning into and against mine as she gyrates gracefully in exquisite dance while I try to clumsily keep time.

It was a stupid move perhaps, bordering on the insane. But considering the circumstance we are in, maybe we tire of the game of which we are unwilling participants in. Inducted since infancy into the opposing sides, myself of the Sanguine Stoics and her to the Clan of Dance.

We are both paragons of our orders. I am the most dedicated of the Steadfast Stoic and she the most unrestrained Sister of The Dance. And yet we find solace in each other, the implacable stoic and the narcissistic queen of dance.

An unmovable object that meets an unstoppable force.

As is only natural orders finally come down from our separate leadership that we both contend with one another so as to prove the true legacy of our race. Both clans asserting its right of philosophical ascendancy.

A fight to the death.

We have contested many times since the orders were cut. Most times resulting in the death of many. Members of my coterie and her entourage. Cut down in countless battles from which we both came out unscathed. For we are evenly matched.

But throughout our battles, a strange relationship blossomed, and in many cases we would meet upon the roof tops of Idea City, firstly to duel privately, so as not to lose lives unnecessarily. Later on to talk and as it turns out to somehow fall into each others' company.

I know not what to call it, love, camaraderie, friendship. But it is something real that grew from our many opposites.

There were ancient rumours of this, of a third option open to our race, not to follow one extreme or the next, but to meet somewhere in between. Something, or perhaps some place, that she and I have found between ourselves.

But this is no longer our choice. Those of us dedicated to the order and made for a life of service. The ever suspicious elders on both sides found out of our dalliance and so here we are today, ordered to a final and fatal confrontation. Under threat of excommunication, we agreed to meet one last time in the Dance Hall that we so often observed from our hiatus on the rooftops.

I remember how she would dance a little ditty as the music drifts to our lofty hideout and explain to me how music and dance is the core of he soul, while I struggle to show her why silence and tranquility is mine.

We made a pact, that someday before the end, we would teach each other of what the other meant. She would take me to a dance hall for a dance lesson while I would attempt to educate her about steadfastness and stoicism.

So here we are dancing to the music of the dance hall band as we stand at the cusps of the final day on earth for one of us. My coterie and her entourage scattered around the dance hall in nervous knots of hardened philosophy war veterans struggling to fit in with the partying crowd of lessers.

Here we are for my 'dance lesson.'

I find myself unable to assemble any logic from this. I find myself overwhelmed by something which I have no experience with. She said its okay, she calls it feelings. I am unsure, how can something feel so good and so painful all at once.

Doubting myself once more I wonder if the Stoic Elders are right. Maybe there is great evil in this.

But all it took is just one look from her dreamy eyes and a slight squeeze of her fingers on my shoulder and waist to reassure me of the reality that is before me. This is not something that I would want see undone.

A buoyant feel seem to fill my senses. A happy warmth that floods my being. I am probably the happiest and most contented that I have ever been. Right there encircled in the arms of the dancing queen.

But life is not always fair, and bound by contradictions. I must now teach her of steadfastness and stoicism. A lesson which she may not like at all, but the only way I can ensure that she and the child within her, my child, survives our forced meeting.

She looks at me quizzically as thoughts pass through my mind and distracted me for a while from the beauty of her eyes. I smile at her and steeling myself, place my lips in a kiss upon her forehead. Then my lips pause by her ear as I tightened my embrace of her and whisper into her ear, "Be well my love, for the end comes soon and your lesson in steadfastness and stoicism with it."

"When, my love?" "My love... I like the sound of that..." she quips caressing the word 'love' exquisitely with her pronunciation of it.

I close my eyes and sigh aloud, trying to keep my newly acquired emotions in check. "Soon my love... soon. After the music ends."

Then, I force myself out of her delicious embrace and stand before her waiting for the music to die down.

No sooner when the music ended that we finally realize that we now have to take our proper places in the scheme of things, not to dance in each others' arms but to fight across the divisions of our clans... that immutable line equivocally drawn between the un-living and those who pursued living to the fullest. My Katana slid out of its scabbard as her twin stilettos emerged from their sheaths.

The tell tale screeching hiss of cruel metal blades resounding throughout the dance hall as my faithful coterie and her loyal entourage did the same. Blades akimbo, we threw ourselves into that deadly dance of death, as musicians and patrons of the club ran pell mell into the dark of night, trying to get away from the quickening onslaught.

We are too evenly matched, so much so that I know neither one of us will prevail against the other in a straight fight. But if none prevails, we both risk death at the hands of the inquisitors of both our orders.

That cannot be... not for my queen of the dance.

Thus I wait until she is caught up in the throes of her death dance, her whirling twin stilettos surging through the air towards my body in lightning fast stabs.

Judging that the moment was right, I deliberately let down my Katana and ignore my guard, surrendering my chest to her stilettos. I can feel the puncture wounds begin and their organ shredding rush as the motorized blades shreds into my exposed and unarmoured chest. I deliberately did not wear my chain mail undershirt for just this moment.

Time seem to stop as a blinding pain courses throughout my body. I feel myself crumple towards the floor and saw the anguish on my dancing queen's face. Everything became a blur compressed into that single moment. I can feel my lifeblood seeping out of my gutted chest, but strangely I no longer feel any pain. Just a cold numbness that slowly spreads all over my body.

I find myself cradled upon my dancing queen's lap. I look up into her eyes and smile at my love. She smile back at me, despite the tears flowing from her eyes and the sobs that threaten to overwhelm her.

"It's the only way my love. And my lesson to you. Be steadfast my love... be stoic", I manage to gurgle out to her in between my gasping intake of breath. "Go to our roof top hideout, there is a package there. Travel papers for you and some cash. Flee to the hinterlands, stay safe.... keep our child safe..."

Afterward there was another blinding flash of pain and then... darkness.

Thus end my lesson for my beloved and my time upon this earth with her.


Or so I thought... but that is another story.

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