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Twenty

Sext, One Day Before the Kalends of May

Unnamed Road Leading from Larkins to Eastpoint Along the Margin of the Drum Mountains, Bahim, Drum

From a lacuna in a rock formation of the Drum Mountains, some height above the ground, Hazel Drina watched the heliaarmy march to the steady beat of drums, in perfect formation, their armours shining bright in the midday sun. Hazel Sensed Jerome approaching from behind, but did not turn to face him, even when he crouched beside her.

“You are not supposed to be here, Jerome,” said Hazel.

“I bring you news,” said Jerome. “Plarin is dead.”

“Plarin?” said Hazel, her eyes widening. “How so.”

“They claim it was a natural death,” said Jerome. “But helia work, no doubt.”

Hazel’s eyebrows furrowed. Plarin was one of the founding members of the Young Kardas, but his identity had not been known to the Council, unlike those of Griffin the Dwarf, Jonathan Dewey, and Frederic Ross. Jonathan Dewey had already been executed in Tarrin two days ago for his well-known involvement with the Young Kardas. Frederic Ross, who was in Cyrill, seemed to have been spared. Griffin the Dwarf had gone into hiding. There was a sizeable bounty for his head.

“But some good news also,” said Jerome. “Rinehart was victorious in Larkins.”

“Good,” said Hazel. “Go now.”

Jerome nodded, and retreated.

Hazel looked back down at the army below her. Half the army had already marched past. Hazel estimated around five hundred men, made of five battalions of a hundred men each. The number of men in one battalion alone was around the number of men Hazel had in her entire revolutionary army, and it was twice the number of men she had brought today.

Hazel unsheathed her sword, took a deep breath in, expired through her mouth, then leapt off the rock formation into the middle of the third battalion.

She landed at the feet of a young soldier, who jumped in shock.

“Erm,” he said.

That was the last thing he said before his head promptly fell off his body.

There were cries of shock and panicked bustling. Hazel raised her left hand, which began to glow with a fierce light.

“I am Hazel Drina,” cried Hazel. “The Child of Light. Behold the Connexion wielded by a braxin!”

Then she shot out three beams of light from her hand, dealing fatal burns to three soldiers. At this point the first of the soldiers began to attack her, thrusting at her with their spears, which Hazel avoided with ease and countered with a slash of her sword in the air, which carried out her Connexion in an arc and sliced through her enemies.

The skirmish lasted only a few minutes as Hazel ducked and weaved and slayed a dozen or so soldiers. At this point the leader of the third battalion had reached the scene and cried out, “it is only one woman, surround her!” The soldiers slowly formed a formation around Hazel, pointing their spears towards her.

Hazel smiled, then raised a fist up high. A flash of light blinded the ring of soldiers, and in that moment Hazel shot forward, jumped up, decapitated the a soldier, and broke through the ring. She ducked away behind a rock formation and fled.

“Follow her!” cried the battalion leader.

The the entire third battalion clambered forward between the rock formations and chased Hazel some distance into the Drum Mountains. The dense columns and ridges that characterised the Drum Mountains in the Bahim region suddenly gave way to a large valley. Hazel stopped fleeing and turned around. The pursuing soldiers hesitated, then approached slowly, spears pointed at Hazel.

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Then the arrows came. Revolutionaries in beige and white garb to camouflage into the rock formations slipped in and out of view, but the flurry of arrows continued. Though their armour protected the soldiers from the brunt of the arrows, a dozen soldiers fell from the first volley. Then revolutionaries armed with blades of all sorts leapt down from above and began cutting down the soldiers. And now Hazel Drina herself charged at them, firing bolts of burning light.

The soldiers were thrown into panic. After a few attempts to push back, they began to retreat. They had no orders to follow — the battalion leader had fallen from one of the arrows. But those who turned around to flee found that the entrance to the valley was cut off by more revolutionaries.

“Kill every last man!” cried Hazel.

The revolutionaries rushed in to claim their victory, when suddenly three revolutionaries leading the charge fell, cut down by invisible blows.

“Stop!” yelled Hazel.

“Keys told me there would be rats in this cave,” said a voice from above. “That man is never wrong, is he?”

Hazel looked up to see a bald man donned in a black hood, holding a longsword in one hand and the corpse of a revolutionary on the other. The man dropped the body of the revolutionary, which tumbled lifelessly down the valley.

“Boash,” said Hazel.

“Hazel Drina,” said Boash. “It has been a few years, I believe.”

Hazel Drina had indeed met Boash a few years ago, during the war between Drum and Cyrill. They had fought together as allies when Keys hired Drina’s mercenary band for the war efforts. Boash was from the Ramani Family, one of the Lesser Families of Tarrin that consistently produced masters of Force Connexion. Boash was not only the authority figure for challis, which allowed the user to extend the cut of a blade through great distances using Force Connexion, but also created a new technique, rechallis, which allowed him to produce multiple challis cuts at once. This was the technique that he had just used to kill the revolutionaries from a distance. Hazel herself had learned challis by observing Boash during the war. She had not yet stolen the Stone of Light at this time.

“If I had known that you were helia, I would have taught you rechallis myself,” said Boash.

“I am braxin!” cried Hazel.

“Captain,” said Jerome from behind her.

Hazel took a deep breath, then cried, “All forces, retreat!”

The revolutionaries quickly retreated, ducking in and out of rock formations with ease.

“Go, Jerome!” said Hazel.

“No, Captain,” said Jerome. “If Keys Sensed this ambush, there may be forces waiting to cut off our retreat. Go with them, Captain. You are the Child of Light. Your men need you.”

Boash leapt down into the valley, among soldiers who stood around anxiously, unsure of what to do.

“Besides,” continued Jerome. “I want to test out my swordsmanship against the best there is.”

Hazel bit her bottom lip. “Come back to me alive, Jerome,” she said, then went off after her men.

“Aye, Captain,” said Jerome, stepping forward to meet Boash.

The soldiers now uneasily pointed their spears at Jerome. Boash raised a hand and said, “do not interfere, this is a duel.”

Boash initiated the duel by sending forth two rechallis, which Jerome Sensed and parried with his blade using Barrier Connexion. With each parry his sword shook with the force of his impact.

“Oh?” said Boash.

Jerome then allowed his Mind to Sense his blade, then Transcend it. He sliced upwards, Transcending the Bodies in its path, thus sending his own challis at Boash.

Boash parried the challis easily, but seemed unnerved. Jerome took this opportunity to dash forwards towards Boash. They exchanged several blows, and Jerome grimaced as he felt his sword shake with the impact of each strike. What amazed Jerome was that Boash used a one-handed grip to parry all his two-handed blows.

“Not bad,” said Boash. “Braxin.”

Then Boash thrust his hand forward with Force Connexion, impacting Jerome’s abdomen and sending him hurtling backwards. When Jerome regained balance Boash was right in front of him, and it was now his turn to deliver blow after blow with his sword strengthened with Force Connexion. Jerome managed to parry each, but only just by using Barrier Connexion, and he felt his strength already depleting. Finally Boash struck Jerome at an angle that he did not expect, and Jerome momentarily lost balance. He steadied himself again, but in this split moment Boash struck forwards with challisand tore through Jerome’s left shoulder.

Jerome cried out and stumbled a few steps backwards. Ah, he thought. The fight was lost. There was only one thing remaining that he could do.

“And what does a two-handed swordsman do when he loses one arm?” said Boash.

Boash pushed forward and thrust his sword into Jerome’s abdomen. The blade penetrated cleanly through. Boash hesitated, unsure why Jerome allowed this fatal attack. Jerome dropped his sword. Then he placed both his palms on Boash’s abdomen.

“Watch,” breathed Jerome. “The Connexion of braxin.”

Jerome, with the last of his strength, gathered Connexion in his palms, then shot it outwards in waves of Impact Connexion.

Boash was thrust backwards, his body convulsing, blood spewing out of his mouth. He collapsed some distance away. With a shuddering hand, Jerome bent down and picked up his sword. With Boash’s blade still embedded in his abdomen, he staggered towards Boash.

“What are you doing,” cried Boash. “Kill him!”

The soldiers around them returned to life and charged towards Jerome. Jerome raised his sword to strike down Boash, but a spear impaled him from behind, then from the side, then from the front. And thus, impaled four times, the warrior Jerome, second-in-command of the revolutionaries, drew his last breath.