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Farbeast Chronicle
Clash With A Legend

Clash With A Legend

TYRAM

Nothing, Tyram thought, had gone right since he fought that pirate.

He and Andry had been on their way to try and meet up with the others when the alarms blared for planetwide evacuation. A couple of enforcers had tried to force them into a van bound for an evacuation point. By the time they'd sorted that out and caught up to where everyone was supposed to be all they'd found was signs of fighting and an extremely dead Birger and Jurgo. And while they were trying to figure out that, a building had collapsed on the edge of town and they decided to head in that direction.

And had arrived to find Aurina unconscious in the grip of a man neither of them had ever seen before. That did a lot to help bring things into focus. If he had Aurina captured there was no chance any of the other knights were still conscious. And given the situation, there was only one man in the universe he could possible be.

“Balthazar Nodd,” Tyram said.

“That's me,” Balthazar laughed. The laugh turned on him, into a hacking phlegmy cough, and the pirate cursed under his breath. He'd been pouring on the power to hold himself together, but he was still dying. He crushed his own weakness with iron will and made his next words come out clear. “They said two of their friends got separated, but managed to beat Birger. That you two?”

“That was us,” Andry confirmed.

“Right right,” Balthazar nodded. “Hold on a sec. Don't want to crush the little lady while we're punching it out, right?” He stepped on a car to reach a second story window, laying Aurina down carefully inside.

“What do you want with my sister?” Andry demanded.

“I want to know where she got her Churmegoedon,” Balthazar shrugged.

“That thing again?” Tyram said. “What is it?”

“Old,” Balthazar Nodd said with a grin. “Very, very, very old. Although this one isn't, looks newly hatched to me. But the Churmegoedon are old. And right here, right now, they don't matter. Was it one of you two who killed Jalgoz?”

“I did,” Tyram said, stepping forwards.

“You know he was my favorite right?” Balthazar said. “The only one who really took after me. Grit or guts or muscle or brains, well...all my grandkids had at least two. My blood, after all. Jalgoz was the only one who had all four. The kind of kid I could entrust a legacy too.”

“Fine,” Tyram said, spreading his arms. “So kill me.”

“Tyram!” Andry snapped, but the Dragon Knight ignored him.

“What was that boy?” Balthazar rumbled.

“I said kill me,” Tyram said. “I killed your favorite grandson. I killed Jarlo, too. I won't tell you who killed Jayban, and I don't know who killed Jurgo I wasn't there. But I've killed more of your grandsons than anybody else. It was me jumping in that started this whole fight, in a way.”

“That's not true!” Andry protested.

“It's close enough to true,” Tyram said. “Kill me. I'm the one you want revenge on. Leave everyone else on this planet alone.”

Balthazar glared at him for a moment.

“Sad,” he said. “Now that is damn sad. I'da thought whoever beat my favorite grandson woulda had all four too. Hell of a shame, kid. Seems to me like you got the guts, the muscle, and the brains...but you're missing the grit. And it's all close to useless without the grit.”

“So we have to fight?” Tyram sighed.

“Tyram look out!” Andry said, tackling the Dragon Knight out of the way. An air pressure blast obliterated where they'd been standing moments before. Andry looked at it in total stupefaction. “Holy...he just moved his hand! I thought he was going for a weapon! What did he even do?”

“He's the strongest pirate who ever lived,” Tyram said resignedly. “This isn't going to be easy. Come on, if we don't keep moving we're dead.”

They split up, running in opposite directions around the pirate. It took Balthazar a moment too long to decide which one to attack, and without any visible signal both knights closed in on him at once and slammed their fists into either side of his gut. Balthazar let out a surprised grunt.

“Hey!” he laughed. “I actually felt that! You guys are a little tougher than the rest of them.”

He grabbed for the knights but they darted back out of the way

“I have an idea!” Tyram shouted. “There's a move I haven't used yet. It doesn't always work, but...”

“But he beat all the others and he was surprised he “felt” our punches,” Andry said. “We're desperate, I know. What do you need?”

“Time!”

“You'll get it!” Andry promised, pelting Nodd with sonic blasts. The enormous pirate brushed them aside with waves of his hands, but they held the pirates attention. Meanwhile, behind the pirate's back, Tyram drew the sword.

He drew it very slowly, and very carefully.

He felt like he was holding a bomb about to explode or...well, maybe a better analogy was a pot with a long handle filled to the brim with boiling water. But if the auram spilled over the effect would be a lot closer to the bomb thing. The wild energy of the sword was too much for him to control for long but twice, exactly twice, he'd done it. Both times in training, and without the distractions of missing friends and a powerful enemy, but he'd done it. He focused everything he had on keeping the pot steady, on holding the auram within the blade as rushed the pirate's back.

It took him a little too long. A wave of force from Balthazar's fist caught Andry in the chest and threw him into a pile of rubble. But the Lion Knight had distracted the pirate long enough for Tyram to thrust the point of his sword against the pirate's body...and push through.

“WHAT!?” Balthazar roared in surprise as the sword pierced his side, just under the rib. There was a still, frozen moment where the blade stuck halfway into the pirate's body. But that stillness was only surface deep. At the point where sword pierced flesh a furious war was being waged between Balthazar's auram attempting to expel the attack and Tyram's auram trying to ram the sword home, to pierce up under the ribcage and unto the pirate's heart.

Finally, Balthazar's power won.

The sword shot out in a spray of blood, hitting Tyram in the chest and sending him flying. He cracked the wall of the building he flew into and crumpled to the ground. Struggling to clear his head, his blurry confused vision saw the wound he'd given Balthazar heal. No, that wasn't quite right. It was like the wound clenched itself shut. It was still there, a line in Balthazar's flesh, like a pair of lips being held tightly closed.

“Hell,” the pirate snorted, rubbing the wound. “You're the first one on this whole planet to get a real hit in on me! I take it back, you're not one short. You just lost your grit somewhere. Seen it happen before. I wish I had time to wait for you to get it back, that could be a fight to see. Maybe the only real fight I'd get on this whole world. But I've got to kill you and get moving now. Damn shame.”

The sword. It was a clear thought slicing through the fog in Tyram's head. The sword had hurt him. Only barely, but it had hurt him. With a sword he had a way to fight back. It lay on the ground between him and the pirate, and Tyram felt like an idiot. He'd never dropped it before. Head still groggy, he reached for the sword.

His auram fell into confusion.

It was actually a moment of clarity, though it went by too fast for him to realize that. He reached for the sword and so did his auram, and the auram had a greater reach than his arm. He felt the connection of his Regalia and the compatible one embedded in the sword, felt them being to sing in harmony. The blade shuddered on the ground like a struck tuning fork and emitted a violent explosion of light.

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It was the same wild auram Tyram released when he swung the sword, but even less focused. Mostly it was force, throwing Tyram back against the wall and making Balthazar stagger. But it was the auram of a sword, and within that force were blades. Small things, relatively weak, and flying at odd angles, but blades. The building above Tyram was sliced to pieces, burying the Dragon Knight in huge hunks of rubble. The building Andry lay beneath was sliced much more cleanly, the top of it falling forward in a solid cube and landing on top of him. If the unconscious Lion Knight hadn't fallen into a crack in the ground when he fell, it would have flattened him.

And one of the flying blades scraped across Balthazar Nodd's chest, carving out a thick ugly line of red. The pirate stared down at it in surprise. Alright, he was old. And alright, fight back the coughing fits and ignore the pains as he may he was still a dying man. Even so, how long had it been since someone managed to wound him twice in one battle?

“Damn shame,” he sighed, kicking the fallen sword towards the pile of rubble that concealed its owner. “Damn shame. I'd have loved to fight you when you got your grit back, boy. I truly would.”

He clenched the wound on his chest shut. It hurt worse than usual, his skin sliding closed over his ribs. He could adjust the forces in his body to speed up healing, but not fast enough. Not for today. He'd have to make do with clenching shut the wounds. It was one of his oldest tricks, after all.

The village. He had a rough idea of where it was, from conversations with Jurgo. He'd find it. And when he did, he'd have a witness. He retrieved Aurina from where he'd set her down and, hostage over his shoulder, headed off in the direction he was pretty sure he'd find the village.

Should have kept that tank around, he grumbled as he walked.

VERRO

A few minutes later, the rest of the knights returned to the battlefield.

“What the hell happened here?” Verro scratched his head.

“I do not know,” J'vann said. “That on the ground there is Tyram's sword. But I do not know where they could be.”

“I can smell Tyram and Andry all over the place,” Sasha said. “They have to have been fighting, but the scents are all too confused. I think I can pick out Balthazar heading...that way.” She pointed.

“And don't count on my ears for a little bit,” Fann said. “They're still ringing after that last blast he hit us with. I can't fade out noises coming from inside my own head.”

“So they caught up with us after Balthazar knocked us out,” Verro said thoughtfully, “but it doesn't look like they're still here...and I don't think it went too well, either. Not if all we've got left behind is Tyram's sword.”

“That is not necessarily true,” J'vann said. “Tyram is often frustrated by his inability to control the explosive auram his weapon generates. Perhaps during the battle he found the sword more of a hindrance than a help.”

“Yeah!” Rimni said. “Maybe they're still fighting him! Maybe they've got him on the run, and that's why they're all gone!”

“They might still be fighting him,” Sasha said. “But they don't have him on the run.”

“Why not?” Rimni demanded. “How do you know?”

“Because I'm a hunter,” Sasha said. “I study maps, and I study terrain. The only thing in the direction Balthazar went is...”

“The village,” Verro finished. “Tragam. Yeah, archers get in the habit of studying all the maps too. He's probably on his way to wreck the place just to spite us.”

“After all that work we did to save it!?” Rimni complained. “What a jerk. Come on, we have to go and stop him! I bet that's what Tyram and Andry are doing right now.”

“I wouldn't mind another round,” Fann said. “If only so I can get a couple of hits in.”

“If we're going to get any hits in,” Verro warned, “we'll have to go all out. No more hidden trump cards or secret techniques. Our most powerful moves, whatever we've got in reserve. Even if it's stuff we never actually tried before. I got an idea for a new arrow...point is, we try anything and everything. Or we'll end up dead.”

“Agreed,” J'vann said. “Our last encounter with Balthazar Nodd proved quite conclusively our ordinary methods and techniques are insufficient.”

“I have a few tricks I haven't tried yet,” Sasha said. “I'm ready.”

“Yeah!” Rimni said, jumping up with a fist in the air. “Let's do this! Let's go...ungh.”

Fann hadn't even looked in the Rat Knight's direction, just delivered a carefully placed chop to the back of his head. The child knight collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap.

“Anyone have a problem with that?” Fann asked.

“No,” Verro shook his head. “He will though, when he wakes up.”

“When he wakes up he'll be off planet,” Sasha said. “We'll find an aircar with comms and tell Ms. Fadden to come pick him up. You're right though, he's not going to be happy.”

“He will indeed be extremely furious,” J'vann said with a small smile. “I look forward to hearing his tirade.”

No one said it out loud, but the phrase that naturally followed—assuming we're all still alive to hear it—hung over the gathering like a ghost. The five knights hurried off, looking for an aircar they could use to ride back into battle with an enemy they hadn't even been able to wound.

BALTHAZAR NODD

The only people left in Tragam were Chaddim and a few enforcers.

Tragam had actually been evacuated early and quickly, since it was so close to the orbital pad. Most of the town had gone up in the crop shuttles a while ago, but people were still coming in. Tragam was closest to the orbital pad, but there were other villages. Most of them had even sent people the month before to help fight the bandits. So Chaddim waited with the enforcers, to be sure everyone who could got out safe, to watch for any others coming in, to try and think of anyone else who might be alone in their homes and unable to reach the pad.

“I think we're about tapped out here,” one of the enforcers said. “Come on old timer—I mean, Mister Mayor. Let's get you into orbit.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Chaddim said. “You can't waste a shuttle trip on one old man. I'll come with you to the next pad village.”

“Where you'll say you're not a priority again,” the enforcer said. “You realize you've already done more than I'd expect out of one of my men, let alone a civilian.”

“Well I like to think I've helped when I could,” Chaddim said. “And I recently got a lesson in courage from some young people I wouldn't want to disappoint.”

“Yeah I heard,” the enforcer chuckled. “Alright, you can--”

“HEY!” An enforcer shouted from a second floor balcony, shading his eyes. “Hey something's coming!”

“More evacuees?” the enforcer officer called back. Chaddim could see the wheels working in his mind. If there were enough people coming in to justify another shuttle run from this pad he'd try and shove Chaddim on it. The old mayor was just working out how to stop him when the lookout shouted back.

“I don't think so!” the lookout said. “It looks like--”

And then his head exploded. The enforcer with Chaddim shoved him between two buildings, following after with his weapon drawn.

“Damnit!” The enforcer said. “Who'd be stupid enough to shoot at us at a time like this?”

“That wasn't a shot,” Chaddim said. “It reminded me of something I saw once, a long time ago...but no. No it's impossible.” They could see it now, a figure in the distance, leaping from hill to hill. And when it landed at the entrance to the village and they got a good look, Chaddim realized it wasn't impossible. It was just unlikely, and it had happened.

“Where are you going?” The enforcer hissed.

“This is my town,” the mayor told him. “My responsibility. Besides, I think he and I will actually have something to talk about. You and your men should leave.”

Chaddim shook off the enforcer's grip and walked out into the street until he stood before the muscular figure of the man who had just arrived. He barely came above the enormous man's waist, but there was no terror in his eyes when he looked up.

“Balthazar Nodd,” Chaddim said.

“You've heard of me,” Balthazar grinned.

“I've seen you,” Chaddim said. “In the Ruin Wars. I was at Shadiid.”

“Oh really?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow. “Which side?”

“Not yours.”

“Hah!” Balthazar laughed. “That was everybody. I was only there for the jewels. Well I suppose sides don't really matter now.”

“No,” Chaddim agreed. “You seem to be carrying my friend's daughter.”

“Oh yeah,” Balthazar said. “Her. I wanted some information from her but...well, she's still unconscious and I guess it doesn't really matter. Maybe I'll wake her up to make her watch me wreck the town.”

“And why would you do that?” Chaddim asked. “Has Tragam done anything to you?”

“Yes,” Balthazar Nodd said. “You killed my grandsons.”

“Ahah,” the old mayor nodded. “Yes, quite a few things make much more sense now. But they told me Jurgo was alive.”

“Died trying to get revenge for his brothers.”

“I see,” Chaddim sighed. “So now you've come to take revenge for them all. And I doubt one little village is enough to satisfy an angry Balthazar Nodd.”

“Damn right it isn't,” Balthazar grinned. “Especially with nobody in it. I'm not stupid enough to think this fight was about the buildings. Or even about your lives.”

“No,” Chaddim shook his head. “It wasn't.”

Chaddim was barely over five feet tall, stooped and withered. He had the body of an old man, wilted and weak. Balthazar Nodd was five feet of muscle. And yet somehow, to the enforcers watching the exchange, in that one moment they managed to look exactly the same.

“If you'd had a Regalia,” Balthazar said, “my boys would have been dead years ago. And we'd have had a fight to see. One for the ages.”

“I had a half formed one once,” Chaddim said. “I let it wither. It was tied to my laser, and I wasn't interested in fighting anymore. Not until your family showed up.”

“I'm going to kill you now,” Balthazar said.

“I assumed,” Chaddim said. “The knights will come along in a moment and fight you for me.”

“I already beat them all,” Balthazar snorted.

“Are you sure?” Chaddim gave him a small mile.

Balthazar's hand moved faster than the eye could follow, fingers extended. The fingers pierced Chaddim through the heart. He must have done something more than that though, some trick with his Regalia, because Chaddim's eyes went blank the instant he was pierced, and when he crumbled it was almost like he was falling asleep.

“Get some rest brother,” Balthazar said almost gently, punching the ground to dig a deep hole. He laid Chaddim's corpse at the bottom of it, then closed the dirt over the mayor with a few slaps at the dirt. “I'll follow along in a minute, though I doubt I'll see you.”

People were shooting at him again. There were enforcers in the village, and they had decided to take the time he spent laying a fellow warrior to rest as an opportunity to launch a useless attack.

“Pissants,” the pirate snarled, climbing to his feet.