RIMNI
Rimni followed his invisible quarry until the call was sounded to begin the battle. He didn't break off, an invisible enemy was too dangerous to leave alone. Rimni knew that much. But once the alarm was sounded the invisible runner ducked into a building and pulled out a small radio. The air around him shimmered, revealing a skinny bandit with tattoos all over his face and ears full of rings. He had an ugly sprout of bright green hair sticking up in the center of his otherwise bald head, and there was a dark stripe over his eyes. He wore a simple shirt with leather shoulder pads, and cloth pants, but nondescript as they were the auram Rimni sensed around them was that of a Regalia.
“Hey!” he called into the radio. “Hey!”
“What is it?” Someone on the other end said.
“I've got Shekk to report!” the bandit said. “Listen, the town's got its guns set up--”
And then Rimni was there in a blur of motion. One of his daggers cut the radio in half before the bandit could continue.
“HAH!”Rimni said, skidding to a halt. “I knew you were a spy!”
The bandit stared for a moment, eyes and mouth both open wide, at the empty hand which had once held his radio.
“You little Shekk!” the bandit finally snarled. “I've been prowling around her taking notes all day and you think you can just come and cut up my radio? And get away with it?”
“Knights don't get away with things!” Rimni declared proudly. “They make sure bad guy's don't.”
“Cocky little brat,” the man snarled, the air around him shimmering. “Well maybe I can at least brag about killing a knight, even if it is some snot nosed kid.”
The man disappeared again. There were faint sounds of movement. Rimni giggled and leaped into the corner of the room, delivering a flying kick into what looked like empty air. There was a pained grunt and the air there shimmered, revealing the bandit clutching his groin.”
“See?” Rimni giggled. “Give up.”
“Alright brat,” the bandit snarled. “If you reallywant a fight, I'll show you what I can do with the Haze Regalia.”
He shimmered and disappeared again. Rimni laughed, about to taunt him for trying the same trick twice...but then, suddenly, there were four of him. Four presences, identical in his rat senses, moving around nearby. He whirled his head around, trying to figure out which was which. One of them got close, so Rimni slashed at it. His blade passed through empty, humid air.
“Wrong guess!” the bandit shouted, reappearing behind him. He had drawn a weapon, a pair of gloves with fingers that ended in rectangular blades like a straight razor, blade down toward the palm. He swiped at Rimni's back and left a set of thin bleeding lines in the knight's skin.
“OWW!” Rimni yelped, rolling under a table and bringing his daggers up to guard. Or that was the plan, but then there was a series of explosions. Three of them shook the ground, the fourth came in the air, like fireworks. When his ears stopped ringing he'd lost track of the invisible bandit. He forced himself to settle down and focus his senses.
There!
He only sensed the man in one place now. He must he waiting for Rimni to drop his guard. Rimi disappeared in a blur, dodging around the room like he was searching for the bandit, then charged straight for the hidden enemy, daggers ready. But when he slashed his daggers slid. Whatever he'd hit felt soft but completely unwilling to slice. Like some kind of wet, unbreakable balloon. The bandit laughed and stepped forward, upper body seeming to float in midair as he slashed. Red lines appeared on Rimni's arms, chest, and cheeks and he fell backwards, lying on his back on the floor. The bandit stepped fully into view.
“The battlefield is no place for a little kid,” the bandit said. “You ought to be in school. In fact, I'm gonna give you a science lesson. The Haze Regalia works by making air dense, and hot, and humid. I can control it to make a lens that bends light around me. Or I can turn it into a shield that pushes blades away. Or...I can just make it too hot and thick to breathe.”
He held out a hand and the world around Rimni became hazy. The strength left his limbs and he couldn't get any air. It felt like he was trying to inhale sludge. He struggled, clutching his throat, trying to push himself along the ground and out of the Regalia's power. His eyes were going black when someone grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of the way. He took a deep, grateful breath and looked up at his savior.
“Fann!” Rimni said.
Looking at the Bat Regalia now, while it didn't look very impressive Rimni could feel some kind of energy inside Fann's body. Not just auram, something else. With the Bat Regalia active, Fann hummed. He gave the impression of an engine left on idle, still for now but complex and powerful when it moved.
“I thought I heard somebody fighting behindthe wall,” The Bat Knight said. “I thought I'd find whoever was causing the explosions here, but it sounds like Verro's got that. Well I've got a chance to be useful right here.”
“Wait Fann,” Rimni said, trying to stand up. “I'm a knight too, I can...”
“You kept this guy from telling them about our defenses right?” Fann smiled. “You did your job. I'll handle this.”
“Who says you can handle me?” The bandit said, disappearing. Rimni quailed. This time there were five of him moving around. Rimni wasn't stupid. The others were just decoys made out of air. But the Haze Regalia's shield covered up everything. Rimni had been able to follow the way it changed the air, but he couldn't pick out what it had inside it.
Fann stood in the middle of the room, completely unperturbed, and closed his eyes with his hands on his sword. Then the sword came out in a lightning fast slash. There was a scream and a spray of blood, and the bandit stumbled into visibility clutching a wound in his arm.
“That hazy air trick doesn't do much good when I can hear your heart beating,” Fann said, resting the back of his katana over his shoulder.
“You bastard!” the bandit snarled. “How about this?”
Another haze appeared around the bandit, this one not invisible. Quite the opposite. This one was an insane kaleidoscope. Beams of light in every conceivable color fired out from it, striking other hazes hanging in the air, which spun in turn until the room was filled with flashing, blinding lights of every color. Rimni felt the food rise up in his throat until he covered his eyes to block out the horrible flashing lights.
“Very pretty,” he heard Fann say. “But bats don't see when they hunt, and neither do I.”
There was a slashing noise and a scream. Rimni risked taking a peek at the room again. The light show was gone, the bandit stood completely visible...and just as dead. A line of seeping red rand around his entire head at eye level, right through his eyeballs and the bridge of his nose. As he fell backwards the top half of his head fell off in a gush of brain and blood.
“Not good enough,” Fann sighed.
“Yeah!” Rimni said enthusiastically, pulling himself to his feet and running to Fann's side. “That light show was useless against your Regalia!”
“Not that,” Fann said, cleaning off his sword with a rag torn from the bandit's clothes. “I was aiming for his neck. Shouldn't you be traumatized or something? I just killed that guy in a pretty horrible way.”
“I've seen worse,” Rimni shrugged.
“Yeah,” Fann sighed. “Me too. Come on, lets go see if the others need any help.”
VERRO
Verro's Eagle Regalia was a little more extensive than the Bat, although it wasn't a complete set of armor like Tyram's. A face mask in the shape of a curved beak had appeared over his mouth, as had gauntlets and grieves with talon molding on their dull brassy looking auram metal. Most importantly he had his bow. It was conjured entirely with his Regalia, a metal eagle with wings spread wide, it's arrows bolts of pure aruam energy. The perfect weapon for his eagle eyesight.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
So far hadn't missed blocking any of the unseen archer's silver bolts of destruction. At least not yet. He thoughthe'd missed one, there had a been a flash of crazy colors from the windows of a house inside the village, but it seemed to be unrelated and he didn't have time to worry about it right now. Whoever was up there kept trying to blow up parts of the village. At first he'd just been trying to sow chaos, but his shots were getting closer and closer to the defenders on the wall.
Measured in distance along the ground that is. In the air, Verro's arrows blocked every single one.
Suddenly there was a loud squealing noise from the air above the village, the mechanical screech of a voice amplifier not being properly handled. As soon as it calmed there came a deep, weirdly professional sounding voice. The kind of voice you might expect to hear across the table at a buyout meeting. Or the voice of a penny pinching bookkeeper or a schoolmaster.
“Attention below,” the voice called out. “Attention below. Attention to the knight archer who is interfering with my mission. You are very, very annoying. Message ends.”
And what the hell am I supposed to do with that information? Verro wondered, but two more arrows streaked out of the sky and he blocked them with shots of his own. The cloud cover was blowing away now, and he was eager to get a good shot at his unseen opponent. The one with the crisp, slightly boring voice. The clouds pulled away and high up, far too high for anyone without the Eagle Regalia's eyes to see, floated his opponent.
He was a short, squat, doughy little man. He was the kind of fat where the waist disappears and the arms almost seem to fold against the belly and sides, and the neck is only marked by the swelling of the round, plump jowls. He wore next to nothing as he flew over the arena, allowing Verro to see he was entirely hairless. What he was wearing was a pair of goggles with complicated machinery in them, probably distance vision enhancement. He had straps around his shoulders, holding up a tiny pair of glowing metal plates stamped in the shape of wings, and on his lower half he wore what looked like—and Verro couldn't believe he was having the thought—a gleaming diaper of solid bronze. Hanging from the waist of it was a megaphone, and in the pudgy man's hands there was a tiny little bow.
Verro pulled back and fired. The bandit's Regalia might look ridiculous, but if he kept firing those explosive bolts he could do some real damage. His arrow fired true but the pudgy man darted to the side in the air, and countered with three arrows of his own. Verro had to fire fast to block them all. The little man tucked his bow on his belt and picked up his megaphone.
“So brave knight!” he called down. “You intend to continue to annoy me as I attempt to complete my mission which I intend to complete. You face Arlo, wielder of the Putti Regalia. Might I have your name, before we begin this duel that we are starting?”
“You couldn't possibly hear me all the way up there anyway,” Verro grumbled. “Not unless you had ears like Fann.”
“Well coward?” Arlo, “wielder of the Putti Regalia,” called down. “Will you not name yourself, as is the code of the knights you claim to be a part of, as if you are one?”
“Oh for the love of,” Verro cupped his hand to his mouth and shouted. “You can't possibly hear me, you're too high up!!!”
“I am afraid I cannot hear you!” Arlo shouted through his megaphone. “I'm too high up.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Verro groaned with the palm of his hand pressed over his face.
“I am sorry you shall die nameless, brave archer!” Arlo called down. “But perhaps after I will kill you I will find your name in the personal effects of your body, which will be dead because I have made it dead.”
Arlo backed up his threat with a sudden barrage of arrows. Verro reacted instantly, shooting the exploding shafts out of the sky with a shot of his own. Striking so many of them together created a bright, blinding explosion. Verro couldn't see to shoot back.
Or, wait....I couldn't see if he moved either, could I?
It was less than a second between thought and action, and it was still almost too late. He felt the wind of Arlo's shaft flying past his ear as he ducked to the side. The chubby little man had swooped down to ground level—well, rooftop level—to place the tip of his arrow less than an inch behind Verro's head. The arrow struck a nearby chimney and bounced harmlessly off the stone. Verro turned around and leveled his bow as the pudgy flying bandit darted away, astonishingly agile on his wings. Which could not possiblebe keeping him airborne aerodynamically. Verro was sure they had to be some kind of levitators.
“As I was thinking the thoughts in my head,” Arlo said, raising his own bow. “You are skilled.”
“You too,” Verro admitted. “Even if you do look ridiculous.”
“Arlo's beauty is the stuff of legend,” Arlo said, as if he were saying the sky was blue. “Arlo has inherited the celestial grandeur of the angels themselves.”
“Yeah but, you know,” Verro said. “Those chubby little baby angels they put on fancy stuff. Cherubs, people call them.”
“Cherubim are completely different!” Arlo huffed. “I am one of the putti. I flit between the clouds!”
“And shoot innocent villagers?” Verro said incredulously.
“I shoot who I am told to shoot when I am told,” Arlo said. “I don't make moral judgments”
“Right.” Verry forcibly reminded himself that this was a bandit, and a fairly accomplished one if he had a Regalia. The poor man might, just might,be insane...but that also might make him all the more dangerous. “Well fine, Arlo. My name is Verro, of the Eagle Regalia.”
“I see,” Arlo said with a tiny hovering bow. “Then we have begun the duel that we are fighting.”
The two archers each fired an arrow. The shafts met in midair, disappearing with a soft crack as the two shafts of pure auram struck each other. Then they were of, Verro running on auram-infused legs and Verroy flying with his regalias odd, tiny hover-wings. The fired shaft after shaft at each other, neither scoring a hit.
“It seems we are equally matched in this stalemate,” Arlo said.
“Your arrows aren't exploding anymore,” Verro pointed out.
“You would expect explosions when we are in close quarters and I could get caught up in the blast of my arrows which are exploding?” Arlo demanded.
“Well when you put it like that....” Verro said thoughtfully, “...it sounds like you have brain damage. Seriously what the hell is wrong with you?”
“There is nothing wrong with me being perfectly fine,” Arlo said seriously, drawing another shaft. Verro dodged it and fired one of his own. It flew wide over Arlo's shoulder.
“You are getting tired and losing your aim,” Arlo said, cocking another shaft.
“Sure about that?” Verro grinned. His Eagle eyes traced the arrow as it bounced off a chimney, then the wall of a tall building, and back towards Arlo. The hovering archer moved at the last second, but the shaft still sliced into his arm. Blood dribbled down the smooth, hairless skin.
“Ahh!” Arlo yelped. “You have hurt me by putting me in pain with arrows!”
“And I'm just getting started!” Verro told him, firing more arrows in seeming random directions. “I can control how my arrows work too!”
Arlo ducked and weaved through the air, dodging more shafts that came at him from crazy angles. Two of the ricocheting shafts hit their mark, one cutting the same arm as the first—deeper this time—and the other landing itself in the meat of Arlo's thigh.
“That hurts very badly,” Arlo said. “But you aren't the only one who knows tricks!”
Arlo fired at the building Verro was standing on with an explosive shaft. The explosion sent wood and brick tumbling to the street. Verro leaped aside before the exploding shaft could reach him, but Arlo flew into the arc of his leap.
Oh hell! I let his goofyness make me forget he was dangerous! I told myself not to do that! And he can move in the air and I can't, dumbass!
Arlo fired. The arrow hit Verro in the shoulder. It felt like getting hit with a sledgehammer. Another variety of arrow, one with punching power instead of piercing somehow. The impact sent the knight flying backwards across the rooftops. Arlow fired a second shaft, and now that Verro had seen a few different ones he knew it was an explosive bolt. His shoulder screamed as he brought his own bow up to counter, and the blast when the two arrows hit damaged the houses around them and knocked Verro further back. A blessing in disguise, since if it hadn't knocked him a few inches further he'd have plummeted head first to the street below.
He hurried to his feet and ran as another exploding shaft slammed into the rooftop where he'd been standing just a moment before. As he moved he fired arrows all around him, arrows in all directions, seemingly at random.
“You will be defeated in this battle you are losing!” Arlo declared.
“Oh yeah?” Verro pointed over Arlo's left shoulder. “Then you haven't been paying attention to where my ricochets went.”
It was the oldest trick in the book, but there was a reason somebody thought to write that one down. Whatever was or wasn't wrong with Arlo's brain stupidity wasn't a part of it. But it was such a natural instinct to follow a pointing finger, so he turned.
The bouncing arrow pinged off the side of Arlo's goggles. The lenses cracked and split. Sparks fired out the side of them.
“Ahhh!” Arlo shouted, grabbing at his eyes. “The damaged state of them being broken has made my previously helpful goggles now noticeably unhelpful!”
“Yeah great,” Verro said, closing the gap between them. “Whatever. But I've only got a few seconds for this, so no time to chat!”
He grabbed Arlo's arm and pulled, sending him spinning over the rooftops on his hover wings. As he spun, he crossed a specific point.
Nine other ricocheting arrows Verro had shot crossed that same point.
Two went through Arlo's shoulder. Two more went into his legs. One cut his right ear in half. One stuck into the side of his, well, upper thigh, scraping the leg hole of the metallic diaper. The other two just left gashes in his belly. One of them must have nicked the hover wings, since the bandit fell squealing and bleeding to the rooftop. Verro was already moving, turning his run into a flying kick that slammed into Arlo's face. With a final grunt and squeal the bandit archer collapsed unconscious.
“Gotcha,” Verro said, panting. His whole body felt like one enormous bruise. His enemy was helpless, and the Knight's Code, which he intended to adhere too more or less, frowned on killing sleeping enemies. But he couldn't risk someone that powerful—or that weird—waking up and causing trouble in the middle of a battle.
Luckily, Verro's master had instilled in him a simple maxim: You never knew when you might need some good strong rope. That's why he always kept a rolled up length of it on his belt. He tied the unconscious bandit's wrists to the nearest chimney and looked back towards the battle.
It wasn't a large town, but the battle was going on at the opposite end of it. He didn't realize he and Arlo had dodged around each other over so much distance. Without any other options, he started running back towards the battle across the rooftops. As he ran, two more explosions rocked the defensive wall.
Hell, he grumbled. He lowered his head and did his best to run a little faster.