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Life's Allegory
Part IV-Chapter 16: Theodor/Rigdis/Mira/Ikigai

Part IV-Chapter 16: Theodor/Rigdis/Mira/Ikigai

Theodor Sanderson

"There are a few others of your people within the kingdom but we have had a few instances of violence between our citizens and the Tribes," I say already frustrated at having lost the initiative in this conversation.

"Instances of violence like say, a group of your mages ambushing a party of explorers that includes women and children with magic and blades intent to kill?" The woman asks without missing a beat and I turn to Burger who was responsible for interrogating the survivors of that apparent ambush so that we know what we're getting into. Maybe coming straight here before being fully briefed by the magisters of this region wasn’t the best idea, but I honestly thought they were killing each other before I could accomplish father’s assigned task.

"The investigation into that is still unclear at this time," I say when getting no signal from my ministry representative, I can't believe a group of magisters were stupid enough to do that and get caught. "But the Crown will not take it lightly if it is true, these are trying times and all of us neighbours need to have amicable relations." Honestly the disappearance of an entire town is whats prominent on my mind and the little I saw of that fight has me tapping my foot in eager anticipation for more.

I really can't believe Master Zuesius disappeared though, I liked him and he was a GrandmMaster Magician. A 3rd tier Awakened that should have been able to defend himself against anything except maybe a group of masters or a another grandmaster but even then he would have put up a fight. What on bloody Gaia are we dealing with here really, what is going on? ''The Crown will assign you a guide that will ensure your safety as you explore Sandoria.''

"We are not here to cause trouble but are explorers enjoying the beautiful landscapes and rich culture that your lovely civilization has to offer. Master Zhen here is from these lands, born and bred but has married into our people and has become our own, none could be a better guide than he" the woman says. Having introduced herself as Divina a little bird told me she was once an ambassador for her people here, I almost grumble at having to deal with a politician. Yet a diplomatic barbarian is supposed to be much easier to deal with that the more savage types, I don’t necessarily agree with that assessment, violence is a language I thoroughly understand.

"Yes of course we have heard of Master Zhen, it is very rare for a Master of the kingdom to leave Sandoria to call another nation home." Magister Aaronion’s hostility is easy to read in the statement, at least I’m not the only one inept at this diplomacy thing.

"I am still a red blooded son of Sandersonia, don't let anyone deceive you into thinking otherwise Prince Theodore but I protect what's mine and this here family of travellers is mine." The white-haired senior mage says a bit forcefully seemingly frustrated but I acknowledge his words with a nod curious what my advisors’ assessment of that little outburst will be.

"What do you mean by ‘trying times’, surely we do not warrant a visit from the senior prince of Sandoria with his entire retinue," the attractive slender woman asks waving a slender arm to indicate my 16 royal guards, 2 magisters and a master, my wife and her 2 ladies and 4 servants.

"Your people currently march to make war on the Maori is that not trouble enough? And of course a party of 50 Tribesmen travelling unaccounted for through parts of our kingdom even its citizens rarely venture will stir the curiosity of the Crown. Please, join us for refreshments as you tell me of your travels," I say signalling for a table to be brought reminding this woman that they are the guests here as the little bird advices to.

*

I watch with interest as the two warriors choose their weapons from opposite sides of the luminous circle branded into the ground. I have heard tales and read reports of the prowess these people show in battle but was never directly involved with the fighting at the time we attempted to annex them. Still, I now bear a masterpiece of a beautifully made dwarven longsword bound to my spirit as spoils of the conflict.

Cercia with two of her ‘friends' is standing besides the caramel-skinned young barbarian woman with intricately braided hair and a big young man at her shoulder, also wearing his brunet hair in a braid very similar to his companions . The magician, Master Zhen Gold and the ambassador woman are facing the circle whilst also having a quiet conversation with Master Hugh and Magister Narx while I stand a bit a ways with my guards also assessing the combatants and the other barbarians watching the spectacle curiously. Clearly not all of them are barbarians by heritage but looking at the two dwarves and the... elf? Possibly fae amongst them.

The taller combatant with the fresh scares puts on a breastplate of bronze or similarly coloured metal. The back of the breastplate is black and in this shadowy flickering light I initially assumed it was some type of leather but as I watch him move I doubt that assessment. The man moves his arms twists his torso side to side and does other movements with the front plate remaining stiff as far as I can tell but the black back material bends almost like clothe or mail.

He then grabs a longsword bigger than my own like it's a spear of no particular weight from outside the circle where a variety of options are available. Hefting it easily he cuts through the air with smooth strokes leaving the distinct sound of whooshing air as metal cuts air roughly with each of his practice strokes in his wake. His opponent is about my height and weight, I understand that to be small for a barbarian, certainly smaller than the sword wielder but by the standards of most Sandersonians he is certainly big in his own right. Standing at something like 6 feet 8 inches and weighing at least 220 pounds.

I caught the last exchange of that last fight so I know the smaller big-guy is certainly much faster than I know mundane people his size to be, definitely some sort of warrior Awakened but also very good with that axe of his. I realise the idiot isn't relinquishing the short deadly hand-axe nor is he putting on armour but instead takes up a metal-rimmed round wooden shield in his right arm whilst still twirling the axe in his left hand. I frown, no one in their right mind would face a longsword with a weapon that only gives the extra reach of a forearm. If that.

I take a few steps towards one of the spectators of whatever this is and find myself almost within arm's reach of an averaged sized smaller man with a dagger in his waist, a metal bar I can't immediately identify on the small of his back. He stands leaning against a spear thrust butt first into the ground. He oozes Awakening such that even as inept as I usually am at sensing someone's power can feel it but still he seems to be one of the less dangerous people here to my aura instincts for some reason.

He stands at roughly 6 feet 1 with dark hair and deep dark eyes that I quickly look away from. A small groomed beard frames his perfectly proportional face and marks him as different among a number of people here with long bushy beards. We study each other while he ignores my guards studying him as a potential threat and I pretend to ignore the few barbarians shifting towards us whilst still paying attention to the soon to begin fight.

"How serious is this fight," I ask and the man smiles standing up straighter. His slender frame definitely marks him as different from these usually bearded broad people. Part of his face is darker than the rest, like a birthmark or part of an old scare

"They are about to start, wait and see."

*

Rigdis

We circle each other whilst still out of each other's reach, I going towards him with my dominant sword arm leading. He circles right, away from me; his shield leading as we avoid each other. He is intentionally miss-matching us so his shield is on the wrong side to quickly counter my attacks but I know him to be completely ambidextrous so I know there is a strategy to his seeming madness.

I watch his footwork as we circle away from each other yet towards each other at the same time. He coming to my left while I head towards his, it's the initial stalemate of swordsmen trapped in a circle, attacking your opponent's weaker side is the goal. Only Sachihiro has no weak side really so again I know he is toying with me as he could as easily come at me with his left as he can from his right.

He watches me watching him in that creepy way where he seems to see beyond me yet looking at only my eyes. I now know that to mean he is serious as before I could only accuse his eyes of being curious instead of this fathomlessness they currently possess, they possessed in the previous rug. That hated axe swirls slowly as he moves, doing slow revolutions that make the air moan with the distinct sound of sharp metal parting wind.

I suddenly realise, though we have been circling each other we have been moving forward slightly with each revolution around the circle and it's all I can do to raise my guard up in time deflecting the axe that slides along my blade creating white sparks as he moves past with his momentum. I duck as much from instincts as from experience countering even as I feel the air displaced by the shield edge sweeping over my head.

He jumps over my low reverse swing spinning away from my mid-swing redirection aiming to split his torso open. A one-two step with a slash has him retreating hastily then I'm swinging with strength aiming at his collarbone. He swerves which I expected but I'm spinning with momentum showing him my back for but an instant before my weapon is back even faster with more power to collide against the hardwood aura reinforced shield; [crack].

He is rattled shifting backwards even as the round-shield splinters; my second spin pushes him another step back as he deflects it on the tortured wood and metal rim of the shield strategically.

If Sachihiro steps back he is giving himself room to do something nasty so I don't take the third revolution of the spinning barrage that likely would have shattered the shield to splinters had I connected with a third shot but instead use my reach advantage to the fullest I keep him where he is with expert strokes that keep him defending his neck, his abdomen, his thighs without the luxury of a counter. At least not a counter from his material weapons-

I take a ‘solid’ splash of water on the bicep that feels like a wooden plank smacked into me misaligning my next strike, I grin having forced him to use his magics. Our weapons clash again and he is within my guard but I use phantom-step to move back knowing from experience that I want him nowhere near me. He follows somehow in that way he does where he is quicker than he should be confusing the eyes with his movement but this time I see his shadow multiply as it follows in his wake, so that's how he's so fast.

Our weapons clash with my sword pushing against his shield in a stalemate of strength, I push hard from my legs digging into the ground with my boots, he doesn't budge an inch. I turn away as that bloody axe digs into my thigh twice in quick succession. Phantom-step and I'm on his flank but he is right in my face again with that shadow effect, shield chasing my longsword while axe looks for openings.

I twist and hit the side of the shield hard so his right arm has to compensate but I take the axe on the side with a grunt; my armour takes it with barely a scratch. Footwork, phantom-steps, a feign here and a hit there an exchange of strength and again that hated axe finds somewhere to hit. I roar rushing him with a combination that has him on the back-foot with strength and speed bending the steel rim of his shield before pushing him back with a front kick that gives me space.

I keep him at bay with wrend after wrend, sweeping spinning swings that create cutting air in their wake with enough cutting power to scar solid rocks. Sweat is pouring off me as I use the meagre mana reserves stored in my body. Wrend after wrend has him moving away from me while confined by the circle. I can't move far forward whilst using the skill but I chase him around the circle, unable to corner him but witling away at that shield even though not a single strike hits it directly as he twists around blocking the slashing air currents instead of my weapon Rend directly.

Sachihiro has everything, he has Mira, he has the kids. He is not as dedicated a warrior as I am, barely a Barbarian for who knows what blood his mother is from. But still he is a warrior born, hardly sparing but here he is now moving through my attacks like a snake. He spends hours watching a building full of books while I train and fuck and drink and fight yet he is the more accomplished fighter? He managed to win a short-blade rug against me without even getting cut!

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I twist and roar sweeping his shield away in the wake of my wrend, turning with a reverse gripped blade missing him with the pummel of my sword by a hair as he ducks going low. I activate a repulse that sparks with a brown-orange glow pushing him back lest he gets any ideas. I’m on him smoothly and quickly giving a slash across the face that splits his nose open even as he pulls back far enough not to die somehow. His confusing movement skill again I’m starting to see through it, I chase him with my attack giving him no reprieve.

He has wealth from selling jewels with the dwarven women to trading he does with the Midnights we know nothing about. The very idea of selling precious jewels is already unnatural for a people that have hoarded and buried their treasures for investing in the next life after a warrior's death for untold generations. And here he somehow manages to adapt and flourish in these ways of making more wealth by selling and trading his treasures away. I push him hard, my muscles hot as the sheen of aura boosts my every movement, more speed more power more control.

I am getting faster and stronger as the rug progresses, my Rage building and aiding me with strength speed and unending stamina even on top of the aura naturally enhancing me.

*

Mira

I flinch as Rend’s tip horizontally splits the middle of Sachi’s face but immediately I castigate myself for being weak, for being the cause of this shit. I keep my eyes on the fight even as I feel Divina’s gaze on my uncomfortably, I won’t look at her, I can’t look at her. Many a time she has warned me about Rig’s unforfillment, many a time she has brought up the dangers of my having so many lovers within the family and the rot it could cause. Our eyes meet from across the circle and I quickly look away from her to the sight of another wound cut along Sachi’s arm, this one much deeper.

I frown giving Gaia a look, then Damage, then Ava. None of them seem ready to stop this, could they if they even wanted to though? The intensity of the struggle within the circles increases such that I can feel some of the reverberation on my feet on the ground, waves of battle-lust aura come off Rigs as he roars his anger and joy at the opportunity to bring forth his Rage, the excuse to fight all out. Barbarians are known for clotting quickly preventing much blood loss from any wound, not so with wounds seared using Rig’s aura.

Sachi bleeds even as he uses his double image skill openly now to keep pace with the increasingly faster and more powerful Rigs whose Rage is now a tightly held ball that has the entire audience leaning forwards with bated breathes as we suffer from the gloomy ambience of the mad personality of Rigdis’ Rage.

Sachi manages to go around him somehow, getting into an advantage position and hatching into Rig’s other thigh with more anger and viciousness than is called for, a meaty hand on my arm makes me realise I took a step forward. I hear a laugh, a manic laugh of though from the throat of some mocker, that hated laugh that is the Rage of my man. The entire fight turns into something else as Rigs is gone, replaced by that hateful mocker that relishes suffering and craves blood and screams.

The first thrust is blocked but completely opens Sachi up to the steel capped boot that audible fractures one of his ribs. He lands over 10 metres away with a back-flip that has him on hands and knees, one arm coming up to wrap around his torso reflexively before being pulled away as he watches the sickening grin of glee of Rig’s usually handsome face. He stands, his own Rage far from him as if none existent still, what was he thinking using an axe against a long-sword!

Is this really all my fault? I mean only once has Rigs voiced feelings of discontentment, only once in seven years. How was I to know he was serious enough to take things this far, or maybe I’m being big headed and this has absolutely nothing to d with me and everything to do with these two idiots trying to kill each other. I look at my two men, neither of whom have been getting much of my attention since Sachi brought Shea to our lives. There is just something satisfying of being Shea’s, the way s/he handles me, the weight of her age that has nothing to do with mass. Even after all these years Sachi is my best friend, my lover, my confident, the father of my children and I appreciate him greatly. Rigs is my lover, my passion, my quiet Barbarian, my guilty pleasure...

But Shea, he punishes me when I need to be punished and then he comforts me like other. She is a other to me at times, a part of me she shares with no one else, something I didn’t even know I was lacking before she took me into her bosom and comforted me, or gave a stern look and I was trapped liked a nocturnal deer in an light spell. He is a master to me, having me bowing to his every whim and following his instruction without understanding with no doubt the he knows better whats good for me. Even my visits to the other mates’ beds with Sachi I did because Shea instructed me to and I chose to obey. I need Sachi, I need Rigs, but I need Shea most of all and I’m nit willing to give any of them up.

The madly courageous Sachi charges the mocking creature that my Rigdis has turned into shooting off shards off glass that pepper the Rage fiend’s entire body, a bubbled bursts into being above his upraised hands getting bigger with a sucking sound pulling the wind. He throws it and the thing in Rig’s skin activates a repulse like I’ve never seen before the pops the bubble of water to shows all around. They exchange blows and my eyes pull away from the collage of colour made by the mana infused shower to the two men I love hurting each other within the circle of power, one laughing and grinning manically, the other so quiet that the absence of sounds is equally as loud in their exchanges.

Sachi gets the worst of it as even though he moves with greater discipline, his forms are immaculate rituals practised almost every day of his life, his uncanny ability to see an attack coming gives him an immeasurable advantage he just isn’t as fast, as strong or as powerful as a Awakened Barbarian Warrior in the Rage. Especially with the miss match of weapon’s choice as his strikes dent and scratch Rigs’ breastplate but with not one strike penetrating. My mouth is as dry, my tongue sticks to my palette as I try to moisten it knowing that with the Rage out one of them is likely going to die.

My hands are wet and wiping them on my tunic seems to have little to no effect at all, I feel Niki push her arm within mine as we watch her da get hammered with the jewelled pummel of that sword repeatedly before he is again behind Rigs trying to hack at his thighs but fails as Rend sweeps down in a parry. I hold her arm tightly as I clearly see how tired Sachi is now that he’s facing towards us, how his wounds of 5 minutes ago are even now still bleeding despite his Awakened constitution and Barbarian heritage. I again look at Gaia standing there as the proctor and letting this farce continue while Sachi clear is at his last legs.

‘’Da is running out of chakra,’’ Niki whispers beside me and I can’t believe I didn’t see it. They way he’s been preserving that double image skill that amplifies him, the careless way he used that force amplifying skill during the hand to hand rug.

I cover my face with a groan, what the fuck was he thinking? I now realise I was expecting Sachi to pull a miracle out of his ass and win this challenge, I know he wouldn’t outright kill Rigs unless he felt he had to but I really can’t say the same about Rigs, especially in the state he is currently in. My stomach is protesting as I hear the clash again and the fucken’ laugh! Bile and anger rise up within me and I stand up straighter having made my decision. I don’t care about stupid customs or traditions, none of those idiots die today, not by each other’s hands. I realise my own miasma is billowing out by the sudden appearance of Esuas shielding Niki from the worst of it with his aura while giving me a stink eye, I tsk disregarding him as I take a step to the warded circle.

‘’Do you think so little of my love for my son that you would disregard it out of hand so easily?’’ I hesitate as the words register within my mind

‘’I am his mother and I am ready to watch him die if needs be because I know how crippling to him it would be for me or anyone to interfere in this fight. Do you not feel the ambience of this challenge, I know you are not a very clever girl but are you also blind and dumb to the energies around you?’’ My tongue darts out licking my lips as I make eye contact with Divina still standing stalk still across the circle.

‘’You may never fully understand our ways but you will respect them, stand where you are and find it within yourself to accept the outcome, whatever it may be.’’

...

...

I can’t move, not because of the stupid shit being spewed by Divina but because somehow she has managed to immobilise me with some ability. I feel like I’m tightly bound in invisible threads of silk that keep even my foot from reaching the ground. I can’t see what it is she has me bound in but its taking a lot of strength just to keep it from pulling me apart yet I don’t doubt the fore boarding feeling telling me I won’t like what happens if I let these strings pull succeed. Is this stupid bitch going to let her own son die because of some twisted sense of cultural pride?

I pull with every ounce of strength in my body, veins bulging muscles knotting as I watch her cool composure suddenly spoilt by the by the drop of sweat I see roll down her forehead.

Sachi is increasingly using a combination of evasive manoeuvres and his water magics. Sparkling pellets of water that look like shards of ice in the night peppering Rigs, bruising and ineffectively delaying him as he resists most of the damage with his body. It’s almost like he is getting used to the damage he’s taking, like he is getting better at.

It starts to drizzle as I struggle there wondering whether to kill my mother in-law and risk breaking the only family I’ve ever known or watch whatever man I’ve come to love slaughter the other in some grotesque tribal custom. This should be an easy decision, Sachi is my love the man through whom I am here in the first place yet I’ve come to love these people and value my place amongst them more than I’ve now since this very moment known. What off my children, where would they be if I killed their grandmother ‘cause the only move that I have that can get me there fast enough is a take out-

The sky rumbles and suddenly crackling of crystals having formed and shuttered in the circle in a shower of mist that washes the rain away leaving me squinting. Rigdis is standing in the middle of the circle in completely soaked in crimson with Sachi’s axe sticking through the back of his neck. I’m so distracted and confused that I only hear the last two steps of Sachi’s progress to know what he is doing.

‘’No!’’ I scream pulling on the threads with a bellowing of a dark miasma transforming me, my complexion paling and my countenance taking on a dark hungry fire ever ready to greedily swallow the world in endless gluttony. Divina’s skill winking of existence with fizzle causes a surprised whimper to escape her. My arm reaches out but my second stride is only at shattering the circle barrier while Sachi is in the air landing in a perch around Rig’s shoulders. He twists around with vicious jerks, once twist and I’m there to catch the head as it tumbles into my arms.

I look up unable to find Sachi’s eyes in the mess of his hair still squirting around Rig’s sprinkling neck, I try to whip the stupefied expression I’m sure I have off my face but I just don’t understand what just happened. Did Sachi really just..? I feel again the lapping tongue in my hand, yep. I reflectively drop it to catch the body that slumps onto me almost forcing me to my suddenly weak knees. I swallow blood, I place the slump carcass of my lover gently on the ground turn turning my head I deposit my bile far from him. Hands are suddenly on me, it’s Kuyoki I feel immediately and I’m in her arms things dazy as I’m spirit away.

*

Ikigai

I walk up to da standing outside where the circle was stoically looking at mama being dragged away. I hold out a towel he takes in silence, whipping his face then wiping his arms and torso. Niki tip toes over quickly but hesitantly, like a shy mouse being seduced with a piece of bread. Her head is tilted in the way ma’Ingwe or Thandeka’s does when they are silently conveying honour to da. She touched his arm tentatively feeling around the weeping wound before generously smearing grapeblood wound healing slave on his slashes. The oily green paste quickly turns a heavy dark red all along his wounds as it swallows the blood and keeps it from escaping.

I have seen that move from da twice now within the space of a few months. Once when he shot his water bolts at that rock golem letting the water seep between the rock gaps and exploding them somehow to break the summoned construct from within, and again now when he just ripped Rigs apart using his Trojan horse of mana infused water, he’s getting better. Uncle Gaia and Onimorē go to the body, Gaia collecting it with a warding symbol of blessing for the departed.

‘’Let us collect wood for the pier to honour our dead,’’ he says lugging Rigs’ shoulders as the bigger man Onimorē takes his legs. Ava is there to pick up his head and the three walk towards the barns where the body will be prepared for burning. Grandma excuses herself from the Sandies and is silently followed by Ursula, Freya, Tabitha, Cicilia, Selah and Aurora in the wake of what used to be Rigs.

The direction of the wind changes suddenly giving me goose bumps, da standing there letting Niki silently threat his wounds and bandage them, the Sandies with various degrees of shock on their faces. I collect da’s sword and his storage ring from where they were placed then I collect everything that used to be Rigs where it were placed including his now spiritually empty long-sword Rend placing everything in da’s storage ring. Everything that used to belong to Rigs now belongs to da unless it was already in someone else’s care before the challenge or da doesn’t want it, suddenly I realise how little Rigs actually had.

Most of the Sandies have left at this point with only a few extra guards and a mage present now talking in subdued tones with the previous magister that was the liaison between us and these people. I walk around the property for a bit enjoying the night air and moaning Rig’s loss in my own way, he was always nice to me. Several times while growing up he showed me a few pointers on how not to get myself killed, he was quite good with a sword. Liked to play with kids but never for too long as he had a hard time adjusting how rough to be.

‘’Hey,’’ Hannah’s voice sounds from behind a tree as I walk past.

‘’Hey,’’ I say turning, sitting myself down besides her.

‘’Are you okay?’’ I ask her as she sits with her chin in her knees watching the darkness with unseeing eyes after looking away from me.

We remain silent a few minutes, the sandals she is wearing I suddenly remember where a gift from Rigdis. She sits there looking so vulnerable and young in her while thigh length cotton dress, blue sapphire ear studs that absorb the little light around her head, a gem inlaid storage bracelet on her wrist gifted to her by one of her fae admirers I assume. My sister is one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen even with a contemplative frown on her face and bulging jaw from her clenched teeth.

‘’That was really fucked up wasn’t it?’’ She asks looking at me as though completely lost and looking for something to hold on to. I don’t know what to say but I know I grew up around Rigs my whole life, I know he walked us to the park sometimes, I know he showed me kindness when the really was never a need to.

‘’It was fucked up but then, how would you rather the fight ended?’’

...

We stay quiet at that as we sidle together to watch the night and in peace both silently grateful it isn’t da that died tonight, listening to the sounds of axe felling tree as they prepare the funeral pier. Soon we will sing a dire for Rigs as he turns into ash going ahead of us into death’s embrace. I sigh, it’s going to be a long night.