Kalon
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Chapter Three: Shaka-Ul Nupa
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Beneath the planet's surface, Naro City, Yul Clan Assembly Hall
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The crowd is fervent with protest, there is outrage and yet as the blows come and strike my body there is no one to stop them. Each one silences more of the crowd, as though they feel it upon themselves. The message is clearer as the strikes batter my flesh. No one is to shame Barnak or his blood. He was tempered before, but Nekam pressed his patience too much, me beating three was a shame they did not accept. The anger swims to the surface and pulls at my mouth forming words.
“Using such advantages…” I say, spitting blood on the floor, a low growl in my tone as the anger rises “Are you proud?”
The blows come quicker as Henek’s strength enhances with the Maka that flows into him from the Etherium shard in his grasp. The lines of blue light deepen upon his skin. I feel my ribs threatening to crack even as I flex my body against the onslaught. I wrestle my arms, but the red-haired brothers hold me firm, I try to stand but they press on the backs of my knees still. The anger is rising as the pain increases. Am I to be defeated by an inept person such as he? My jaw flexes tighter, yet the glow does not come to my eyes. I do not surrender this to him, my pride does not allow it.
“You are Ulima!” Henek yells, spit flying from his mouth as the savage look rises in him “Who are you to question me?”
He strikes again and again until Nekam finally breaks the silence.
“Enough.” Nekam says loudly, the room grows quiet as he says it, so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat “We forfeit.”
There is a stillness in the crowd now as Keno laughs loudly at what he said. Nekam’s gaze slowly traces over to him, there is a look growing on his face. One that I have seldom seen.
“You wanted a fight, do not cry when you are losing. I do not accept your forfeit.” Keno says, folding his arms
“Shaka-Ul Nupa!” Someone yells in the old tongue.
“Who said that?” Keno roars, moving through the crowd.
Its meaning is simple – Those who cry cheat, yet cheat to win. It is not a phrase that Barnak enjoys as he looks around the crowd for who said it as well. It is echoed through the crowd now in hushed voices. Too many saying it to punish. His jaw flexes. He must know that he is losing control of the situation. It surprises me that he would make such a move in the first place. He should have cut his losses after losing the fight. They have left themselves vulnerable here, and Nekam is treading us both into dangerous waters. The bruises forming upon my body are a testament to it.
Henek’s blows do not stop as the crowd whispers Shaka-Ul Nupa more and more, replacing their silence with protest again. Something is different now though, there is a difference in the air that stirs with me, it is my anger. It threads and weaves into my blade’s song. Making a melody that is meant for the dead. All I need is an opening, yet the brothers who hold me do so firmly.
“Arrum, no!” Nekam yells, but it is too late, hope rises in me, mixing with the anger.
Arrum moves from Nekam and his son Neeba’s grasp as he slips onto the mats, a look of rage on his face. He will be punished severely for this, there is no doubt. He moves towards the taller brother, keeping low, dodging a metal pipe from one of Keno’s men, the same who struck me. Arrum twists through the air like water through a stream, his flow hard to follow. The taller brother has no choice but to let go of me to stop Arrum’s assault. In this moment I throw my weight against the ground, pulling the shorter brother directly into Henek’s next strike, knocking him out cold. His body slumps to the ground, releasing me… and my anger.
Henek’s eyes dance with bioluminescence as I rise to my feet rapidly, clutching a dulled blade in my hand. To my left, I hear a scream after a sickening cracking sound. The taller brother clutches his knee which is bent sideways unnaturally. Arrum is being pulled back from the mats by Nekam and the others of our tribe. It takes four to subdue him, yet he still kicks and claws to get back out onto the mats to help me. I give him a grin through the blood on my lip, he has already given me victory. When he sees the grin, he stops fighting, his own rolling onto his face.
Keno moves towards me on the mats, but Barnak seems to have noticed the crowd's displeasure and grabs his shoulder pulling him back. A move he should have done before, it seems to relieve some of the tension in the crowd. Now leaving only me and Henek, who looks to his father for help. Even with the Etherium shard his cowardice shines through, even with all his advantages, with my body sore and beaten and still he seeks more. Rage rises to meet it’s brother anger, creating a fire of vengeance in me.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
My free hand picks up another dulled blade from the mats, the ink smeared across the ground. There is no intention in me to mock kill him with the edges. When I move now, my intention is to cause him as much pain as possible until he admits defeat since they will not give it. The message written in my eyes means that I will give back what I have been given, with interest. Still, the fight is not over. Moving to the taller brother who clutches his knee still, I kick him in the jaw swiftly, his body going limp like his brother’s. Now I can focus on Henek, I must be wary of him. Maka can make a person unnaturally strong and fast, especially when they pull it from pure Etherium like he is.
Letting him come to me, I dodge his first strike. Stabbing my dulled blade under his arm, kicking the blade from the hilt, driving it into his nerve bundle, following up with a roll as the blade falls, I strike again, this time at his shoulder, feigning up then dropping my body down as I strike behind his knee. The air rushes as his hand whips at where I was. He is much faster, but even enhanced, the gap between our skills is too wide. He was raised in privilege, I can feel it in his stance, in the snarl of his lip as he moves to follow me again with another miss. He did not survive the harsh winters among unfamiliar faces, he did not have to prove himself his entire life just to eat, my pride was forged from the skill I have honed… his pride is of his birth, being above others.
He channels more Maka from the Etherium shard, the air swells with it, so much I feel it leaching into my own body. I must be careful to not take too much in… lest they see my true runes. His control is wild and unrefined, undisciplined and wasteful. My body breathes in the Maka, pushing it into my extremities, fueling my frame to move faster as my heart beats quicker, the steam beginning to flow from my skin. As the strength rises, I no longer have to evade. As the speed of my body increases, I meet him head-on.
I turn on him now, matching his speed with my own. His eyes widen in disbelief as I strike him hard in the chest four times after feigning for his jaw. He coughs blood as the lines deepen. I strike as he recovers, and the Etherium falls from his hand to the floor, he dives to grab it, and I knee him in the ribs, pressing him from reach. My eyes move to it, I see his father Keno racing towards it to give it back to his son, but I throw one of my blades at it, careful not to let it touch my skin… lest they see my truth. It slams against the shard sending it towards Nekam who grabs it swiftly. Those in my tribe and others form around him, blocking Keno who tries to retrieve it.
“Cheat!” Keno roars at Nekam, now coming towards me with a balled fist, I twirl to evade a blow from him. His son rises to meet me now too and I slap him down, then follow up with three strikes to the nerves bundles in his neck, two on one side and one on the other. His eyes roll back as he passes out.
Keno moves his hand towards his sheathed blade, not a dulled one, but the one he uses to slay men. Nekam moves like the first ray of light come dawn and intercepts Keno’s strike as he draws the blade, throwing him to the floor, kicking the blade away as he pummels his face with a series of blows. The crowd roars as a brawl breaks out between the various tribes. I see Arrum leap to the man who hit me with a metal pipe during the match, wrestling it from him and striking him with it. Two more come to flank him, but Nekam’s son Neeba comes to his aid kicking them back.
“Enough!” Barnak screams, but no one heeds him over the commotion.
There is a man coming in Nekam’s shadow now, my legs pull me to intercept him, but before I can there is a sharpness in my back, I whirl around and see Nevari, Nekam’s daughter holding back a metal pipe meant for my back. She rips it from the would-be attacker’s grasp and kicks them thrice in the knee until they buckle and she finishes with a blow to the jaw using the metal pipe. Their body going limp. There is no time to thank her, I move to intercept Nekam’s attacker, but he stops as a loud siren erupts over the noise of the fighting. Then there is a loud cracking in the air as Barnak discharges an energy weapon into the floor. The crowd steadily grows quiet as people separate.
“I said enough!” Barnak yells again, others from his personal guard come now, also armed with energy weapons.
None of the other tribes in our Clan have these weapons, it is illegal by the rules of the City chief for any except the Clan chiefs and their personal guards to own them. Punishable by death, not just for yourself, but your entire tribe. It is how they maintain order when disorder rises. It is why they can be unfair and most do nothing. It is not the first time Barnak has had to show this strength, but it is so rare that I have only seen it one other time. During the ration shortage years ago after the Sage…
“This is Yul Clan Assembly Hall, you do not riot here, never here.” Barnak says, turning the barrel of his weapon to the ground “If the other Clans saw this, what do you think they would do?”
Keno steps forward, his face battered, his right eye beginning to swell profusely.
“They would come in the night and slay us, my chief,” Keno says.
Barnak nods in agreement.
“We must band together, or we will fall,” Barnak says, putting the weapon back on his belt, clapping a hand on Nekam’s shoulder and his son Keno’s.
Nekam’s jaw flexes and his eyes move to the energy weapons that his guards hold before moving back to Barnak.
“Understood, my chief,” Nekam says, giving him a bow and extending his arm towards Keno.
Keno does not embrace it for a few moments, he makes Nekam hold it there, to show him his place below him before he finally takes it in his grasp.
“Nekam you will receive seven spots, Keno will keep eight from the wager.” Barnak says, raising his hand before the crowd can get upset “Both sides did not follow the rules, therefore the entire prize cannot be won.”
There is a look that Barnak gives Nekam, one he gave before that says again… tread lightly. Even though it is less than half of the original fifteen spots from the wager, it is better than no spots being gained. I can respect this move in part because it gives some show of fairness, yet he still shows dominance with his blood keeping the majority. Keno’s face does not look pleased, his eyes move to his father, yet he says nothing to contradict him. Perhaps Nekam’s fists have made him realize he is not untouchable.
“We accept and thank you for your generosity my chief,” Nekam says, giving him the customary bow again.
Barnak nods to him. Then addressing the crowd he says “We will finish the rest of the matches tomorrow. Go home, come tomorrow with fresh minds and bodies.”
The tribe leaders give him a bow and people begin moving to leave the assembly hall.
Arrum rushes over to me, clapping me on the shoulder with a big grin on his face. As we move towards the exit, Nekam grabs my shoulder and leans in, not breaking stride.
“Well done.” He says, giving me a nod of approval. He looks satisfied.
When we reach the edge of the building and gather our clothes to dress for the frigid cold outside, I can’t help but wonder how much of what happened was within what Nekam intended. Did he mean to rile up the Clan chief and start a deeper feud? If so, to what end? If there is an opportunity, I will try to ask him, the curiosity rises as my own anger falls away. My eyes reach Henek’s when I am putting on my thick boots, his stare is one I have known before. A stare that means the anger he holds will not end tonight.