[578] Ryūō

This is my first piece of writing that I've done solely for my own purpose. It's a very short story. I plan on doing a lot of short stories similar to it and then stitching the concepts all together for a novel someday; if anyone likes to read it anyway.

Beautiful clear water lapped gently against pure white cliffs. His eyes slowly blinked as he began to come to.

Great another night with my head shoved in the toilet, he thought idly. How did this happen? I thought I didn’t have any money…

“You better get out of there soon you son of a bitch! Ya got a tab to pay!” shouted an angry voice outside the bathroom.

...Right… I don’t have any money… Life really is shitty sometimes.

He felt for the sword at his side. Still there. They say a sword holds its master's soul, but Ryūō didn't believe in any of that nonsense. He wiped his mouth clean with his tattered sleeve and pushed himself up off the seat. Turning to the mirror, he gazed upon the glory of his hangover. His bright red eyes stood out against the dark lines underneath them. He’d smile, but, right now, his ugly mug would probably crack the mirror. That’s seven years of bad luck, and he needed whatever luck he had left.

The door let out a sorrowful creak as he exited the bathroom. The bar itself was a sad sight. Like its patrons, it was worn down from years of struggle. There were only a few people in the bar. A grumpy lady behind the counter scrubbed angrily at an empty glass. The massive bearded man across from her downed another swig from his bottle. He stared bitterly at a poster hung on the wall. An old man sat beside him sipping on a hot cup of tea. He seemed to be enjoying himself despite the mood of his company. Ryūō's eyes narrowed. He flipped open his book, just to make sure. There was no mistake; it was him. Maybe he still had some luck left. Ryūō drew his sword.

The bearded man’s stool fell as he jumped up. He was powerfully built, with broad shoulders and thick arms. “I knew I’d run into one of you eventually. I just didn’t think it would be so soon”, the man grunted as he reached for the greatsword on his back. The sword was stained from battles past. Many men had fallen beneath the weight of its blade. "I guess it's my lucky day; there probably isn't another one of you for a hundred thousand miles. If I kill you, I might be able to make it", the man said with a feral smile.

"Is that right?", Ryūō muttered, "well why don't you give it a try."

If it were possible, the man's smile would've become even more vicious. His bulging muscles clenched as he gripped tighter onto his greatsword. He advanced. Ryūō's grip relaxed and his eyes closed shut. He began to step left as his opponent's pace quickened. The man swung. Too tense, Ryūō thought as he suddenly changed direction; rolling right and slicing out with his blade. His mark was true.

Bright red blood pooled gently on the rotten boards beneath his feet. His eyes slowly opened. "I guess it wasn't my lucky day", he said solemnly. He could hear the bartender breathing fearfully beneath the counter. The old man glanced up at Ryūō.

"Got anything for me?", he asked indifferently.

Ryūō checked his book, and shook his head. The old man shrugged and continued happily sipping his tea. Ryūō left the bar disappointed and his tab unpaid. Only one thought hung on his mind.

Will I ever find the man… who can best fate?

Questions I have

1. Is the dialogue and thoughts okay? Is the format easy to read and understand?

2. Who do you think Ryūō is? Why is he disappointed?

3. Did you like the old man?

4. Is the fight written well? Can you visualize it?

5. What do you think of the ending?

By all means, critique anything that you would like. These are just some questions if you are looking for some direction in your critique. I appreciate the feedback.

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Here is a link to my critique in order to match your subreddits 1:1 rule. https://www.reddit.com/r/DestructiveReaders/comments/kdt61j/638_the_messenger/ggpoxtc/?context=3

Total: +746

This: -578

Net: +168