The Game rumbled as Daniel stood the victorious victor. The broken glass fell toward the true floor, so Daniel was shielded from the splitnered glass. The air echoed with Kane's scream as she plunged vertically away, still beholden to Esra's gravity spell.

It had happened in a second. A powerful lightning strike, then Kane falling.

Daniel, standing just far enough away on the stainglass frame, breathed as deeply as he could without being obvious. He assumed the Lren stance of Of Course I Won, I'm the Best. He almost went with the Poalmon style, which was newer, but he assumed the age of his audience would be most familiar with the Lren Style.

SHORT. TOO SHORT. The Game rumbled.

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The duel between 'Vye'/unknown Lord and the Servant and Squire Branch of the Sky Court/The Heirling of the Red Sword Elswith left the Game monstrously happy.

The Fae watching struggled to comprehend what they had uncovered. A few Lords, terrible at gambling, at made it rich that night as they had purely by accident betted for the Servant Branch.

A cheer went out from the younger members as they saw the Servant Branch assume a victory pose. Despite many losing their bets, they had enjoyed watching the change in fortune.

"How did he hide so much power?"

"That lightning strike was amazing!"

"I never doubted him." Said the Lord of Smoke. The Law of Fae colored sourly, and the Lord of Smoke had to quickly amended his statement. "I never doubted that the Servant Branch would provide exciting entertainment." he hedged.

The Law of Fae accepted that.

----------------------------------------

Listening to the cheers, the Game thrummed powerfully.

SHORT. BUT VERY EXCITING!!!

Daniel's arms started to hurt, as the Lren Style Of Course I Won, I'm the Best stance was not a favorable one. Daniel also felt sweat trying to drip down his brow. Lordlings rarely sweated. Heirlings, at the height of their power? Sweat was unheard of! At least officially and during public outings. In real battle, Elswith had sweat and bleed quite often. But right now the battle was different. The enemy was appearance.

Daniel felt his clothes try to revert back to their duller, plainer true selves. His sword was losing it's red tinted hue swiftly.

Below, the Shadow Warbler was untended, and with the Golem to pull its attention, the situtation could quickly spiral out of control.

Daniel silently pleaded that the Winner of this second Assassination Attempt would be declared. No more enemies. Lord Fredar's faction had taken their shot, and missed.

And Daniel would have almost a full hour to recover and rest.

He needed the Game to go away.

Just declare him the victor.

----------------------------------------

Marrin felt heady. He could feel the entire room. Everything the spinning vortex touched, he touched. He could feel everything, like the storm was his body. But that made it difficult to manage his actual body. It was feeling further and further away from him. What if he got lost in the storm?

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

His throat felt tight. He needed to breath. But he was finding that even if he did not, the wind would force its way in to his lungs. It hurt. It kept trying to fill him up. But now exhaling was getting hard. When he breathed out, all the air tried to go. He remembered training sessions with Frank and Vye and Lord Fredar, when they struck him so hard almost the air was forced out of his lungs. But now it felt like his lungs were going to implode inward.

There needed to be balance. Some air always remained in the lungs. No, but not that much. He would burst if he couldn't get some of the air out.

Inhale, exhale. ihnale... x hail. n h a l e...

It was getting really hard.

Oh. His non-storm body was still beating the pea nugget. He could see everything, but it was getting very difficult to actually understand what he was seeing.

The pea nugget. Frank. That's right. The Law of Fae wasn't happy with Marrin. He could see the Law of Fae now. Wow. It was beautiful. And scary. But the Law of Fae also held up a debt that was slowly eroding. Each kick Marrin gave to the pea nugget lowered the debt. Betrayal said the Debt.

It was being eaten away by something else. Revenge.

Frank had surrendered.

And Marrin didn't care.

Mostly Marrin kicked the downed Frank. Punches were great, but his left hand was now a receptacle for the sword, and his right arm screamed whenever he moved it. So Marrin kicked the traitor. Not as hard as it deserved, but the thing had finally seized a weapon, a small, poison tipped dagger The sword was raised up, ready.

x h a...

N...hale.

As Frank made a play for his dagger in his boot. Marrin could see it coming. A strange new part of him was excited! Now he would have no guilt about what happened next...

As long as he focused on the fighting, the breathing took care of itself.

Marrin effortlessly battered the dagger away, taken away by the swirling wind.

"I AM SORRY!!! FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME!" Frank cried, as fear truly took him. Fear colored the pea nugget a pea green color.

Marrin felt tears streaming down his face. Why was he crying?

He wanted to talk, but just breathing was already difficult.

He raised his sword. Left Hand. Sword Receptacle.

Frank would bother him no more...

Then a larger power flared.

Red. Red, like the sunset. Like the battles fought, that Marrin had never seen but the sword in his hand had. Red like slain beast blood.

The other heirling. The Sword toned, happy. Some of the pressure left Marrin, and he could take full, easy breaths again. He could feel his voice box again.

"I challenge you." said the Red Heirling.

Marrin could almost see with his eyes again. The sheer weight reduced, and color, real color was almost there.

"Do not waste your time on lesser prey." Said the Great Red Power. "They will only dull you."

He was talking to the sword. Marrin wanted suddenly to cry out that he was still there too. Was he there? Or was he in the storm?

What was happening? Marrin felt more tears, but now he could feel the temperature of the hot tears down his face.

"I challenge you, Sword. Duel me. Let us fight!!!"

Marrin kept blinking, and finally could see the Servant and Squire Branch, temporarily his commanding officer. He looked so different. So powerful.

He looked like how he used to, when he was the Lordling of the Red Faction and the...

Heirling of the Red Sword.

Marrin suddenly became afraid.

Heirling.

No. No. This was just a simple family sword. It wasn't one of the Great Swords.

Those who wielded the thirty-seven Swords were mad. They were driven mad. It may take years, but unless one became a High Fae before they inherited one of the Swords, they were driven mad. Few ever did. The Red Lord was one of the few exceptions. Most families would give their Sword to a child, and once the child was completely corrupted, they would be put down, and the process repeated.

Marrin tried to drop the sword.

His left hand did not obey. In fact, he felt his left hand move to a guard position, as if ready to fight Red Sword Heirling at once.

He felt a twisted grin spread on his face. Painful. It hurt. His face didn't like moving like that. But wider did his grin spread, and he was suddenly so heady that he struggled to remember why that was a bad thing. White hot wires of muscle pain suddenly seemed empty and spinning. So much spinning.

Joy and excitement filled him, pushing his dread to the corner. His moved his wounded right arm, and the flare of pain and resistance was embraced with anticipation. Fear of forever damage forgotten. His eyes became useless again, as 'seeing' without seeing replaced his sight. He couldn't even see the resolute face of Branch. Only a swirling of power that glowed red.

n hale.

x ha...