Harlan stepped out of the room along with Blackstone, putting on his best fake happy face and walked directly to the servers.
He ate and drank at a pace that would be considered slightly rude but not overly so, though the worrying thing was that he seemingly never stopped. Harlan was stressed out and wanted to eat and drink and not think about it.
Eventually he felt somewhat sated and went to speak with his family.
“Are you alright?” Harlow had always known Harlan to be nearly unshakable, outside of the werewolf incident he was always mild mannered. To see him so clearly distraught upset him greatly. Harlan wondered if he should talk about how he really was, but he didn’t want to worry them.
“I am fine. I just have more duties to fulfill, and I am leaving you all so soon.” Harlan convinced nobody with his words.
Harlan felt it in his bones, his sixth sense blaring that something was coming.
Jet tripped behind him and spilled his drink on Harlan’s head. But Harlan didn’t try and dodge, he wanted justification.
“Oh I am so sorry for that. Must’ve drank too much.”
“I challenge you to a duel, unless you are a coward.”
A coward he was. While his sisters persused magic and his older brother was a force of nature on a battlefield, Jet had wasted his time indulging himself, only working out to get a better physique to try and attract the daughters of Barons. Only putting in the bare minimum for his swordsmanship training required by his mother.
Harlan could see Blackstone from where he stood, she was smiling.
“Well, I couldn’t fight a child, that would simply be unfair.”
“You actually don’t have a choice, but refusing does show me your cowardice.”
“Under what grounds could you even challenge me like this? I’ve done nothing against you.”
“But you have bothered my sisters, you missed it because you were going to a private room with a maid but they are now nobles under me, thus you have insulted my house through your actions.”
He scoffed, nothing he had done would be seen as anything but their own failure to clearly tell him to stop despite the implications of them refusing him forcefully.
He knew full well what he was doing and how to avoid the actual consequences for it.
“They have made no claims against me, you once more lack the right to force a duel, child.”
Ebon and Blackstone appeared like the wind.
“We both bore witness to your actions and as countess I grant Harlan the right to an honor duel, Ebon shall act as judge.”
Now it was Harlan’s turn to put on a wolfish smile.
Onyx didn’t share his mother’s smile, he looked furious at Harlan followed the two of them outside to the garden to a raised platform of stone tiles 30x30 (9x9 meters).
“Ebon, what are the rules of the duel.”
“As the chall-”
“Brother, you are not the challenged. Would you have accepted the first request you would have that right, yet you refused, when mother forced this duel that right was stripped from you. The rules are as such, no structured magic, only training weapons, hand to hand is acceptable, no armor or overshirts to lessen harm, it will end when the judgment has been made.”
The two of them stood at opposite ends of the square and removed their jackets and then shirts.
Jet wasn’t out of shape, but he was slightly flabbed.
Harlan was built like a rock, he didn’t have bulging muscles but he had little fat on his body and despite his size he weighed nearly 300 pounds despite his 5’5 frame.
However what caused gasps of shock throughout the crowd and brought his parents nearly to tears were the scars across his torso.
Nobody but Ava had actually seen the full extent of it until now, and now there was scarcely an important man in the county that didn’t see them.
Harlan felt that fear like it was a spell to be redirected towards Jet.
Ebon on the other hand cared very little for whatever event her mother had planned.
“When the bell rings you will begin the fight.”
“What exactly do you plan for my sisters?”
“A night they would never be able to forget.”
Depending on who heard those words they would believe he meant any number of things.
But for Harlan who had seen him pushing lines already, it sounded like a threat.
“If you intend to be a beast of instinct, going after young girls for nothing but lust, I will drive a stronger instinct into you. Fear…”
Harlan didn’t know why but Blackstone wanted him to use these exact words.
To him it just sounded like someone who was trying too hard to intimidate someone.
“A lot of hot air from the son of a pigshit farmer.”
Ring ring ring, it began.
Harlan was supposed to teach Jet a rather simple lesson, there would come the day when he decided to pick on the wrong girl and someone had the ability to punish him.
Under different circumstances Harlan would have no right to get close to Jet in a fight, he would be protected by his house and given a slap on the wrist unless it caused such a stink that the duke above them would need to step in to avoid bloodshed.
Jet was still somewhat confident before the shirts had come off, yet now he was back to being a young boy being instructed by his father.
He could remember every little scratch that man had across his chest, all of them represented a time when he failed and he would never have them healed lest he forgot that he is just a normal man under the nice armor his wife had given him.
Harlan stepped forward slowly and Jet thrust forward with a blunted estoc.
Despite the difference in reach granted by both blade and body Harlan closed the distance and dodged the thrust as if Jet never did it in the first place.
Harlan countered with a swift kick to the thigh.
Jet collapsed for a moment before getting back up, Harlan was circling for the kill yet he held off.
He reacted with a flurry of thrusts that Harlan parried by striking the blunt side of the blade with palms of his hands.
Harlan gave him a roundhouse kick to the side, 4 ribs cracked under the inhuman power Harlan kept away from himself due to his own fear of hurting someone close to him.
His attack got faster as old muscle memory was recalled, he hadn’t seriously fought in years, he spent time wallowing in apathy and then almost as if he wanted to make up for lost time he lost himself to passion and pleasure.
Harlan was having trouble keeping up his aloof act, 6 extra years of halfhearted training was still 6 years of training.
He struck Jet with another kick to the thigh, the most dangerous thrusts were those where he extended his entire body, now the strain of doing such a thing would be unthinkable for the man who had hid from pain for so long.
Harlan was back to treating him like a child, Jet looked to his mother, seeing a her face twisted in disgust at herself for not being able to stop Jet before this point.
Yet to Jet who had believed himself her shame so long he believed she was using the boy as an excuse to humiliate him to ruin his chances with the girls who were watching now.
The first hit landed, despite the blunted tip and edges the estoc cut Harlan squarely across his chest.
Harlan couldn’t tell how or why, but he felt the change and knew that it was in for a real fight now.
Harlan tightened his stance, his arms held in front of him to block or deflect his attacks he tried to hit Jet with a few quick jabs yet he dodged them.
Harlan lost his smile, he knew how strong he was, and he knew how much he held himself back, but this time he would let that go, just a little bit; he didn’t want Jet dead just yet, but he was given enough free reign that nearly dead was an acceptable outcome.
Harlan redirected the next thrust by letting it stab through his hand, from that point it was a tug of war, and the stronger man won.
Left without his blade Jet took another stance he hadn’t used in a very long time.
He kept himself wide and ready to defend until he saw an opening.
His foolish assumption was that Harlan had already shown his strength, so clearly he could block him.
The first punch broke 2 fingers on his left hand as he tried to slap away Harlan’s straight and cross counter him.
He was hit squarely on the chin, despite not knowing it, Harlan had rattled his brain like a professional.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Jet blinked and stumbled as his word flipped upside down.
When Harlan went for the second, Jet cowered trying to block the strike that didn’t come.
“Sir Harlan Fomoria is the winner.”
Despite being a woman 48 years of age Blackstone’s grip was like a vice and Harlan couldn’t move an inch.
He wanted to keep going, he felt robbed, that fire in his chest that told him to forgive Blackstone wanted blood from this stone.
Harlan understood that he wasn’t getting what he wanted and it only made that fire burn brighter.
“Would you like to have a chat with me? I hop-”
“I want to leave, it has been a rough night.”
Under normal circumstances she would’ve put Harlan in his place not unlike what she wanted him to do to her own son, she let him go.
“I hope to see you again.”
Harlan went inside, he wanted to eat more before he left, the stress was building up and he didn’t know yet how to really handle it, what Breken had taught him could only do so much, he was a kettle that felt ready to boil over.
Jaramis walked and spoke with him for the first time in months.
“Would you like to hold Jarrik?”
Harlan reached for his nephew, who immediately tried grabbing at his hair, which Harlan allowed.
His heart calmed as he remembered why he even wanted to beat Jet in the first place, he was supposed to be protecting his family.
“I am sure that took a lot of restraint from you.”
“I wanted so badly to knock every tooth from his mouth after leaving a mountain of welts on his body.”
“But you didn’t. I know we had a… Tumultuous start. But you understand, right?” He deeply breathed, calming himself for a moment, ignoring every other word that came to his mind.
“I am not going to say that I do. I am, however, willing to put that behind me.”
Jaramis felt a little awkward that Harlan didn’t fully accept his half-hearted apology. But he was saved when Jarrik started to cry, giving him the perfect chance to excuse himself and go back to Autumn.
Blackstone took his spot next to Harlan.
“You remind me of my husband. If he was still around maybe Jet wouldn’t need to be beaten by a child.”
“I am sorry for your loss.”
It was an empty platitude, a thoughtless instant reply to her words.
“We all are. I set this whole thing up you know? I didn’t stop Jet from doing anything at all, I sent him to introduce himself to your sisters, separated your friend from the rest, put the idea of marriage into your uncle’s head.”
Harlan tried again to just breathe and calm down, but it wasn’t working.
“I can’t bring myself to lay a hand on him. Any of them really. Onyx and Ebon were at least old enough to learn how they should be. But the others simply didn’t learn enough, not enough time.”
He wondered if this was another trick, upset him and then pull at his heart strings to see if he was still going to lash out or not.
“What about me reminds you of him?”
“He was harsh when he needed to be, but never without a reason. I believe your words will teach him what we wanted.”
“What you wanted. You stopped me from doing what I wanted to teach him.”
“A man is not a horse to be broken, was your goal to punish him? To beat him to death? Or was it to protect you and yours?”
Harlan hated to admit she could be right, technically the beating he wanted to give him was for the sake of what he believed would protect his family.
So long as it does happen, should it really matter how and why?
It felt like her own peace and hope that she could get Jet to go back to being the kind and respectful boy he was was the only thing stopping Harlan from reacting more violently to what happened.
Harlan bowed goodbye to her and gathered those who wanted to come back with him.
Everyone wanted to come it seemed, so he gave his goodbyes to Autumn and Redwall before he left.
The entire way home Harlan said he was tired and if they wanted to talk they needed to wait until morning.
Harlan woke up when they arrived and led everyone to their rooms.
That feeling was still there.
Harlan went to his room, set Lugh and Balor next to his bed, a more common set of clothes with a hood, the same he had made for his golems to hide their inhuman features.
“Harlan, where are you going?” Balor had woken up.
“Out, I want to hunt. Pent up energy.”
“Really? You aren’t going out to pick a fight?”
Harlan had an annoyed scowl on his face.
“How long have you been awake?”
“I was never sleeping. I was just… Go, I cannot stop you anyway. Just don’t kill anyone. I… I want to talk with you once you get back.”
Harlan didn’t respond back, he just left.
“Balor… is Harlan ok?”
“He will be. But I won’t be a part of it.”
“Are you sure? I think you should stay…”
“Everyone has a path. Ours will simply split for a time.”
Harlan reached the place he knew he could get into a fight legally without problem.
The adventures guild.
He walked in the doors, stood on a table and yelled out with a coin in his hand.
“One gold coin to anyone who can beat me.”
Most just laughed, but a few thought about it for a moment. Harlan was far from intimidating, he was 5'5. Large for his age, but without knowing that the patrons simply thought he was a short idiot.
Finally a burly man with a bronze badge hanging from his neck who smelled like he only bathed once a month and in a keg of cheap beer decided to take him up on the offer.
“Aye… I’ll kick your ass… You little shit…” Harlan wondered if he would even make it to the ring before he passed out.
He jumped down from the table and walked to the sparring ring, it was empty, which Harlan expected. It was pretty late as it was.
The nice girl from the front desk came to officiate the match. He thought it was odd that he never saw anyone else ever at the front desk regardless of the time.
“Guild rules for personal fights are as stated, the fight will end in the case of knock out or yielding of one party. If I say the fight is done it is done. Both of you understand me? I’ll wake up Gilly to break up a fight if I need to.” The large man seemed wary at the mention of Gilly, but Harlan was more confused about the attendant sounding so harsh, was it because he was always clearly a noble before?
“What about weapons? magic?”
“Just don’t kill each other.”
She abruptly rang a bell to start the match.
The drunken man swung, lost his balance, and hit the ground.
Harlan was about to walk over and check on him when he heard a snore coming from the man. He was unhappy with the fight to say the least. But the few people who were watching burst out in laughter, calling others into the room.
Harlan had no intention of turning this into a comedy routine. So he repeated his offer as the man's drinking buddy drunkenly dragged him from the ring.
Another man, this time sober, hopped in the ring, he had a bronze badge as well.
“Do I need to explain the rules again? No? Great.” She rang the bell again.
The man played defensively, waiting for Harlan to make the first move. It wasn’t a bad idea, but it really didn’t mean much.
When Harlan rushed him the man swung his sword, but he was slow, Harlan deflected the blade with his armor and punched him straight in the gut. The man vomited and doubled over in pain, Harlan figured that he was trying to yield but couldn’t so he waited until he caught his breath.
“Yield…”
“Little guy is the winner.”
A woman helped the man out of the ring and Harlan could see she was casting some small healing spells.
Another man hopped in as soon as the 2nd was out of the ring. The attendant rang the bell immediately.
This went on for another 40 minutes, someone either drunk or barely sober jumps in the ring, gets hit once or twice, and then someone drags them out to be replaced by another idiot who can’t fight.
But with a crowd forming people started fighting for the chance to fight next.
Harlan was also upping the price, after 10 minutes it was 5 gold to the winner, then 10, then 25 gold.
Harlan was about to leave when a man with a silver badge hopped in the ring.
He was young, or at least he was small, maybe 5’4 depending on his boots.
The bell rung and he was off without a weapon in hand, he was in the crowd for quite some time watching the fight.
He noticed Harlan’s favorite style was low down with some grappling leading into a slugfest, the issue being that no one so far lasted more than a few hits from the boy who looked like he could burst into flame at any moment.
The silver rank tried to counter grapple and force him to the ground but it wasn’t going as planned, they each had a grasp on the other, but they were evenly matched, Harlan was a lot heavier and stronger than his opponent was expecting, he couldn’t shift his stance without the risk of Harlan taking advantage.
But after a minute it was starting to wear on him to constantly push against Harlan’s advance, and without Harlan’s inhuman stamina he was actually starting to worry about losing their little game.
He disconnected with a kick, trying to get some distance away from Harlan. He thought it was too easy to get away, and it was.
Harlan wanted to beat someone, he didn’t want to just stand around holding hands.
His opponent grabbed a handful of dirt and turned it into soft stone over his hand.
He realized what Harlan was going to do next and wanted to end it with a good punch.
Harlan realized that his opponent realized, so he let it happen.
They circled around the ring, the crowd was tense, waiting for it to happen. They rushed each other.
Both not bothering to dodge or defend, simply to land a good hit.
And it was a good hit.
Both of them knew they had broken the other's nose which sat crooked on their faces.
Then they repeated their attacks.
The man spit out two teeth, Harlan only spit out one.
They both smiled, showing the crowd that they were just starting.
Violent blow after blow landed, dodges and blocks were completely foregone in this fight.
Harlan lost vision in one eye from the blood pouring into it from cuts on his face; he had more teeth in the dirt than in his mouth. And he was having the time of his life. Everything felt so simple, so right in just having a brawl, the one he was denied earlier.
To just beat someone who wanted to fight him, instead of beating someone who couldn’t fight back.
Both sides staggered towards each other, every last ounce of strength left in them went to a final punch.
Harlan blacked out for just a moment, but he won, he stood tall even in his sleep.
The cheers caused the guard to come over to break up the party, but the adventurers weren’t having it. They wanted to party after a fight like that.
The attendant left the room, returning a minute later with a woman.
She was 6’3 at least, what skin could be seen under her full body tattoos was dark, she had barely any armor at all. Harlan wondered if she was pulled from a bath, he hated to think she would fight wearing so little.
“For the FINAL fight of the night, it will be the stranger vs our local highest ranked, GILLY.” The attendant rushed over to heal Harlan so he could at least think about putting up a fight.
With his vision restored he could tell the tall woman wasn’t happy to be pulled from wherever she was before.
Harlan entered his stance, ready to block and get in at least a punch, he had no idea how strong she was. But he wasn’t thinking he would be winning this time.
He looked at her eyes, deep yellow, shifting slightly like the ocean waves. He thought about the comparison with his own eyes, pale blue and shifting like smoke from a smoldering fire.
The bell rang and Harlan saw her start to move. Then he blacked out, thinking how his jaw hurt.
----------------------------------------
She felt awake for the first time in years, or was it days? She couldn’t tell how long she had been sleeping, but she knew what she wanted to do.