Prince Zaki sat on the sun-baked banks of the lake in the south, swarmed by Tamed Cali Cituva lapping at the water. The worst of the heat passed and his streaming sweat ran its course, drenching his under silks beneath his scale armour. His roaring Sinha helm rested at his side. Melina’s shield leant against the trunk of a dead tree, with his sheathed khopesh over it.
Since the late morning, Prince Zaki sat in this same spot, watching the calm clear lake water with an empty mind. Other than when his late breakfast arrived, or when a makeshift shelter rose for the worst of the midday sun, he never spoke. The ironvine ring occupied his restless fingers, thumping its minuscule heartbeat into the tips of every digit it met.
Dawn never left his side, and she spoke far less than he did. Only leaving her lounging on his left to lap at the water. Her yellow gold gaze occasionally fell on him. She padded the dusty ground with her tail, but nothing came of it.
There was nothing more to do but wait, no matter what Master Anele attempted. Bolstering their borders, increasing their patrols, it made no difference in his mind. They must fight and die, or go back, only to be chased and slaughtered in the Merud. No doubt Jian would chase them.
To think Jian returned after his supposed disgrace. So much for his own guilt. It explained how The emperor won Chief Mandla to his side. From what he heard over the years about King Raban, he was sure it was a simple matter of some forceful words. Bil’Faridh needed these soldiers more than anyone thought, and if it wasn’t already clear, time was against them.
Zaki stretched his back as the sun descended into the west, colouring the lake water pale amber and purple. The humidity remained obstinate, even as the coolness of the night sliced its way through. His trailing sweat hardened and caked his flesh uncomfortably.
Torches flickered alight behind him at the camp, still drowned out by the beauty of the sunset, but taking hold against the growing darkness. A whispering breeze pushed away the last of the humidity, still refusing to depart.
“Perhaps you should wait for this hero of yours?”
Dawn ended her silence. He flinched at what she called Jian, but hesitated before ending his statuesque sitting.
Prince Zaki dusted himself and donned his helm, then Melina’s shield onto his back. He strangled his sheathed khopesh while stomping back to camp. The sunset rushed its vibrant fires from the sky far too quickly, but the whispering breeze never strengthened. It was cool, though he yearned for the prickling heat of the sun that nourished him.
There wasn’t much time for moping as a Cheetah jogged towards him, her scent snatched him up from his dipping mood.
“Prince Zaki, your… guest awaits you in the tent.”
A swarm of Cheetahs and their dark Cali Cituva surrounded the darkened tent on the plateau.
“Do not pierce whatever it is!” Master Anele said. Then rounded her rage towards him. “Where have you been?”
“Watch your tone,” Zaki replied. He glanced over her shoulder towards Master Sinalo and Jazmin, eyeing the warbling blackness at the entrance to the tent. “He’s here?”
Anele’s lips contorted into a snarl before she controlled herself.
“We cannot say. Whatever darkness formed within our tent allows none of us to pass through.”
“So much for the courteous offer of other guests,” Zaki sighed, before stepping past Anele. She said nothing more, nor did she appreciate his departure, according to her scent.
Master Sinalo and Jazmin turned towards him with concern on their faces. They met him before the shadowed tent, with dark tendrils inching away from it on the soil.
“Concerns?”
“We cannot allow you to put yourself into the unknown like this,” Sinalo began.
“It is Jian. Who else? Perhaps he changed his mind on whether our meeting should include others.”
“This might be the perfect opportunity for him to bring your head to the emperor.” Jazmin chimed in.
“Am I not capable of doing the same?”
Zaki didn’t believe his own words, and he was sure the subsequent smirk failed. He handed Melina’s shield to Jazmin, and adjusted his khopesh, before anyone else could stop him. The darkness hummed and rippled before him, all-encompassing. There was nothing to see, hear, or smell of it. He took a final breath before it, surprised by his own calmness, then stepped through the blackness.
The darkness was a curtain of the purest silk. Caressing his sunburned flesh and dusty armour, a cool touch for his face when he slipped off his roaring Sinha helm. It was a blink through the darkness into the unchanged interior.
Dimly lit, the shadows encroached into the tent as well, creeping towards the table in the centre, where a cold lantern sat beside a hulking figure. Zaki stepped towards the only other chair against the table. He paused after placing his helm down, listening to the snoring of his guest.
Jian wore a tattered hood and cloak. Threads poked out from the poor fabric. Streams of knotted grey leaked out of his hood, tickling the table’s surface. Zaki was at a loss.
The man before him slumbered as if the meeting wouldn't decide their lives. A moment etched into eternity and Jian the Dark slumbered.
Prince Zaki shifted on his feet and sighed a few times, but Jian remained at peace. He grumbled louder this time and dragged the chair out, finally winning a waking jump from the legendary Tamer.
Jian gasped and his hood lowered to reveal a face so tanned he was almost as dark as he was. The lantern on the table sparked to life, making the prince flinch. There was no natural fire within the reflective glass, but a flame flickering with a deep darkness. It kept Zaki’s attention while the Tiger groaned and shifted out of his seat, removing his hood.
“Ah, here you are then,” Jian began with a gravelled tone, then cleared it to reveal something friendly. “Prince Zaki standing before me for the first time.”
He didn't know if it was fear or shock. Words refused him. It couldn’t have been both. He refused to believe he would behave like a fool.
There was warmth in Jian's eyes. A head taller than Zaki, and despite the long grey beard, he still clung to an admirable amount of youth. Not even the age spots littering his bald head detracted from his taut skin. Jian had over a century on him. If it was closer to two was beyond the prince’s knowledge.
“My, without your curls, I daresay you would look so much like him.” His words were wistful, and almost too soft for his own ears. “Please sit. There is much to discuss.”
Once again, Zaki hadn’t the words. There was nothing stuck in his throat either. He followed the lead of the Tiger. Jian adjusted his threadbare cloak and revealed the thin silk wrapped handles of both his katana and ko katana on his right hip. There were hints of ruby red, but soon they vanished again. As if Zaki needed reminding about Jian’s dual wielding.
“Still composed, considering the circumstances. An admirable quality.”
Disappointed by my lack of adoration? Zaki remained unmoved despite his thoughts.
“I find my stomach troubling in times like these. There are worse conversations to have.”
What game are you playing?
“It’s a shame Mazin isn’t here to join us. I wanted to meet him as well. You know, during my travels, I came across a strange civilisation beyond the Mahn’Parvat. Civilisation might be too grand a word. They’re an underground folk whose name has slipped my mind. Their Tamed were strange beings, hardly the beasts we are used to, hardly beasts at all. Bishku’a, ferocious yet shy things, with chitinous shells impervious to script strengthened blades.”
The man rambled. A common thing amongst the elderly he suffered. Though a bumbling, senile man was not what he expected from Jian.
“With monstrous claws capable of instant death. Without mentioning their poison stingers for tails. Great Beast, they cause destruction with the right Tamer atop them. Their Vivada are especially gruesome, Tamer against Tamer, Tamed against Tamed.”
This chatter suited Mazin’s ear. He imagined his brother’s foolish excitement at every detail. Zaki’s ironvine ring toiled to suppress his frustration.
“A habit shared by the Wolves, once. When their clan was stable.”
“What is this?” Zaki snapped, though his words maintained their civility. “Have you come here to waste our time, to gloat over your victory?”
“Victory, what victory?”
“Why have you returned, Master Jian? For years, my mother gushed about your graciousness as an adversary. She wept, thinking your life was forfeit when you abandoned the emperor for his crimes,”
“Crimes, what crimes has the emperor committed?”
Zaki bit back a snort, but his incredulity twisted his face all the same. Jian turned serious, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“The very reason you went into exile, Jun Da sacking Sinh’Chattaan and needlessly starting a war. That is without mentioning his undoubtedly many atrocities during the war.”
“War is the atrocity, which is why we must avoid it.” Jian the Dark had awoken. The bumbling senile fool vanished in a blink. He smirked again a moment later.
“I’m touched your mother thinks of me so highly. It wounds me. We never met on the field.”
A threat?
“It is for the best, and she finally bore children. Did you know of their struggles to conceive?”
Zaki replied with the slightest of nods.
“Troubles that were shared with the emperor and his wife, little known at the time for their union began in secret, and caused quite a stir when they arrived at the capital with Lijuan’s swelled belly. They desired Jun in those days. She was a commoner in everyone’s eyes. I’m sure your own mother suffered the same during her courtship with the pharaoh.”
“Is this supposed to garner my sympathy for your emperor? This doesn’t explain why you returned, or have you come to undo my mother’s adoration?”
“I suggest there is little that separates us, don’t you think?”
“What does it matter? We are at war now, regardless of our closeness or lack thereof.”
“And I mean to put an end to it.” Jian’s hardness returned, his hunched posture straightened, and his gloved hands rested atop the table. “I thought my defection would be enough. For a time, it proved true. Jun is a shell, and corruption moves his limbs now. Perhaps I was wrong to spare my blade, but how could I do that to my little brother?”
“Instead, you joined his delusions once again.” the satisfaction was fleeting, but he needed a release for his bubbling frustration. Jian’s smile didn’t remove the hardness, but it left Zaki’s mouth bitter.
“Me being here is good. There is little chance for misunderstandings. I am the strength of the Tigers. Despite his condition, I’m sure Jun knows this as well. He thinks that sending me away with my ‘loyalists’ will return control of all Tigers to him. This siege will not be without bloodshed. It’s unavoidable, but at every opportunity presented, I will do my best to prevent more losses.”
Prince Zaki furrowed his brow at Jian.
“We could meet in the field, and you may scatter us to the winds, but you will return to the capital with a skeletal force ripe for capture. The king might be merciful. After having spent some time with the chief, however, I can assure you he will snatch at any opportunity for victory. Your head, in exchange for opening the gates of Bil’Faridh, is an offer your parents cannot refuse.”
Zaki couldn’t believe what he had heard. His surprise kept him frozen to his seat, and he fought to fight his other scents.
Of all the games to play?
“There is only one option left, if saving lives is truly your ambition. Vivada.”
Jian’s grin shattered whatever calmness he held. More than the weapons on his waist, more than his age, more than his damned name and reputation. It was his grin that intimidated him.
“The pharaohs should be proud of the heir they’ve raised. It has been many years since I’ve truly tested my strength. I’m sure you have someone worthy of such a task.”
Bastard.
“All this for another Vivada? Do not tell me about saving lives. Is this a death wish?”
“Has my reputation wavered that greatly?” Jian chuckled. “I’m old, much older than I thought I would be. First, I hoped my fellow samurai would hunt me as their duty demanded, but none came. I live beyond duty now. If my end comes in a Vivada, so be it.”
“How is this not a trap?”
“Believe what you must, but I offer you an opportunity. Take it or meet us in the field.” Jian rose to his feet. “Time is against you.”
Zaki watched him don his threadbare cloak and raise his hood.
“It’s a shame it must end like this. I would have enjoyed one more student like your brother. I fear what comes for dark Tamers. Give my best to the pharaohs, should the fight go ill for me. I hope to see you standing across from us.”
Jian walked to a corner after bowing at the prince. A cloud of blackness gathered around the Tiger until it engulfed him. Zaki saw a smile from him. He took all the surrounding darkness with him, snuffing out the strange black flame in the cold lantern on the table, leaving him behind with only the night’s darkness, and the rush of boots finally allowed to enter the tent behind him.
“What did he say?”
“What did you discover?”
“Did he threaten you or anyone else?”
Their questions came at him at once. Prince Zaki hadn’t moved from his seat. His fingers sought the subtle life of his ironvine ring. Anele, Jazmin and Sinalo swarmed around him regardless, bringing their bright lights into the tent. Master Anele gave up first. She flicked her torch at all corners of the tent.
“What is our next move, Prince?”
“There is no next move until you tell us everything.”
Zaki met Jazmin’s eyes first, after dispersing the fog in his mind. Unable to shed his dullness. She said nothing, but the gentle insistence in her beautiful eyes was enough.
“He offered a chance to resolve this peacefully. To save lives.”
“That’s it?”
“You spoke for some time, Prince. It cannot be all?”
“That is all. Everything else was personal.” Zaki rose from his chair. Keeping a worried hand on the table when his knees numbed. “Prepare the others for a march. We meet them at midday.”
“A march for what, negotiations?”
“Is this not a trap, Prince?”
His fellow generals were relentless, nor did he care for it, despite his numbness. He avoided speaking it out of fear. Doubly worsened by what their reactions would be, rather than the act itself. Prince Zaki glanced at the quiet Jazmin beside him once more, and her expression didn’t change. It melted him once again.
“We march for a Vivada.”
“A what?” Anele was quick to round on him. Thankfully, Sinalo kept his shock on his face. Even Jazmin grimaced at him.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Anele,”
“A Vivada against the Dark? Who here would throw themselves at their inevitable doom?”
“What makes you think this is anyone’s duty but mine?”
“But,”
“That’s enough Anele, we prepare the others.” Master Sinalo’s scent stank of worry.
Anele lingered and Zaki met her glare, refusing to back down. She did, however, and her swiftness startled him. He followed as she approached Master Sinalo towards the exit. An urge came over him.
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“I am the one with the greatest potential. You might point me to a dual wielder in our ranks, but it is I who poses the genuine threat. Scoff or deny all you want. It will be a Lion to face the Tiger, no one else. There will be no dissent in our ranks, do you hear me?”
Anele could not hide her annoyance compared to the Leopard beside her. Yet his words earned nods untainted by contradictory scents. Even Dawn sent her positivity. Ironically, the positivity cracked his confidence. She chuckled when the Tamers departed, and continued when he collapsed back into his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose.
This is the last chance for fear. After this, no more.
“What was he like?”
Zaki jumped at Jazmin’s whispered inquiry. He lifted his eyes at her apologetic expression and cleared his throat. His lips stretched despite the strangeness of his meeting with Jian, and he wasn’t sure if his following words were his own, or another trick of the legendary Tamer.
“Stories don’t do him justice.”
Prince Zaki didn’t sleep. He hardly nibbled his supper the night before. Bitterness ravaged his mouth, a sickness he hid from the others. Jazmin was the only one with him in the tent, but it mattered little. A mournful silence took the entire camp.
She tightened the strap of his scaled golden ochre breastplate and dabbed his neck with a soapy cloth. He did his own bracers while she tightened his thighs and shins. Her cloth was cool, sweet and calming, but the bitterness lingered.
Melina’s shield was a mountain on his back. His khopesh was near non-existent on his weight, despite its straps strangling his hips. He flexed his wrists and his shoulders while Jazmin removed the bucket. Zaki squatted and Jazmin paused at the door.
“Eat something, it might help.”
Dawn replaced Jazmin afterwards, but the aroma of his late breakfast was unappetising. His Tamed Sinha lay beside the centre table, her golden gaze blinking at him, then at the table. He stepped towards the food before her orders rocked their bond.
“You think of me so harshly?” Dawn giggled when he poked at the still sizzling bacon. “Eat. The girl has it right. If you would rob yourself of sleep, at least eat.”
“I am fine, you know it.”
“Now yes, but when the fight comes, you will faint before you expect. Must I speak as your mother would?”
Zaki forced the oily meat first. He tore a chunk off a fresh bun. In no time, his plate was half cleaned, and he washed it down with a cup of mulled wine, then water.
It was more than a strengthening meal, and Dawn knew it. Her satisfaction withered the bitterness from his mouth. None of it tasted well, but his limbs were grateful for it.
“Why linger in fear? Is this Tiger not your hero?”
“That makes this better?”
“Why not, the chance to best a famed warrior? I would have thought you were eager for it?”
Zaki snatched his helm and dusted his face with a glove. He hesitated towards the entrance of the tent, and Dawn rose behind him.
“Of course, you listen, but do not hear.”
Her riddle worsened his mood once again. Though the Sinha chuckled mournfully, he noted.
Prince Zaki shoved his helm on, forcing his curls down flat against his skull, and sighed before stepping into the warm embrace of the midday sun. A flash of brightness later, he gazed upon their camp, mustered and ready, mounted and armed. His flesh prickled from the sun, while his mismatched eyes jumped between the dark Cali Cituva in their rank.
Their eyes never left him, with a lack of scent amongst them. Even from the Tamers bringing down the tent. He would have preferred their scents, fear, disappointment, pride by the fools amongst them. Anything but silence would stir something in him.
“Are you ready, Prince?” Master Anele asked through gritted teeth. The respect raised his eyebrow. He nodded, and she spun around, whistling.
“Most of the dark Tamers will stay behind to break camp,” Master Sinalo informed as they descended the mound, with Jazmin trailing behind beside Dawn. “A brisk ride, and we will arrive at Ci’Ped in a few hours.”
Zaki grunted while they walked through the lines of the mounted. Grateful for his roaring Sinha helm. Their collective attention didn’t make it through the script strengthened protection. A few Cheetahs greeted.
They mounted up together at the head of the army, with the hard clay road stretching endlessly ahead. Zaki clenched his left hand tight until his finger begged for a release from the ironvine ring. No comfort for his fingers with the ring buried beneath his glove. A sacrifice for the heartbeat.
He blinked, and their march began. Where cracks formed plates on the surface of the maroon clay. Tufts of brown and yellow grass sprouted around. As well as trees, mostly dead skeletal ones. The moisture in the air softened the growing heat. Beads of sweat formed all over his body, their pace quickened to a steady gallop, cooled by the breeze.
Prince Zaki’s mind emptied, yet the bitterness returned. The rhythm of shifting steel and the drumming of hundreds of paws turned the emptiness into a trance. He blinked, and the road wound southwards, then northwards. More tufts of dry grass dotted the landscape on each side. It yellowed after more blinks, but the redness refused to drown beneath it.
The road straightened, then rose. It kept rising, then flattened the moment his mind dared to fill.
His awakening came not by a change in scenery, but by noise. The collective sounds of congestion. A gathering grander than he expected, despite Jian’s claims.
Before the grand tree shading Ci’Ped appeared on the horizon, Zaki took in the hum of the Tigers. Confidence and excitable expectancy filled his nose, sparking him with life against their mournful procession.
Their funeral procession became a doomed one, according to the Cheetah’s scents, annoying Master Anele to no end. She restrained herself as the tallest wall in Ko’Eri revealed itself. Dwarfed still by the enormous tree rising from the heart of the city.
Their brisk ride ended before the descent from their plateau down towards the ocean of lamellar upon the flatlands. Mere specks against the impenetrable wall of Ci’Ped, still intimidating.
The death march continued after a glance from Master Sinalo. Anele couldn’t look at him in the eye since last night. Prince Zaki’s mind tingled as they descended into the ocean of Tigers.
Specks shifted upon the tall wall of Ci’Ped, growing into the defenders of the city as they neared. Eyes peeked through crenelations all over the wall. He spared his neck from meeting the eyes of the observing Leopards. Their joy at their arrival was enough. Before it forced him to reckon with the Tigers, an observation rushed through his mind.
Ci’Ped is small.
The last absent thought. So vast were the Tigers that many stood beneath the shade of the grand tree’s canopy, reaching beyond the city’s walls.
Tamers made up the Tiger vanguard, beside their Tamed Bagha, most of whom were black and silver. Their chants boomed as he dismounted. They were a fraction compared to the Tigers.
Fingers snapped, and the whispered chanting ceased, but their demonic masks remained a wall of snarls. Their horns glinted with the light of the blazing sun, sharp and thirsty.
A pathway opened and Jian rode out from the sea of ornate lamellar in a suit of armour that beggared his Tigers. The streaks of silver on Jian’s armour matched his Tamed, sparkling like ore veins. He was hulking even without the lamellar. His silver mask was neither snarling nor angry, merely passive. Nor did his glorious helm possess any horns.
Jian’s eyes bore into him, and Zaki answered the silent call. He slipped off his roaring Sinha helm as the Tiger removed his silver mask.
“A lone Lion cub, come to die!”
Jian shaved fifty years off. Anele bristled behind Zaki.
“Does he mean to fight, send this woeful pack of Cheetahs to their deaths to save his murderous pharaohs?”
The Tigers chuckled behind Jian. Zaki frowned, bemused by this performance. Besides the two subtle identities he met of Jian during their meeting, this was so far removed from either of them.
“This is no golden prince; this is an arrogant fool! A fool who brings us sport to whet our appetites. I say this, fool boy, we gleefully accept,”
“Jian the Dark!” Prince Zaki boomed, fuelling his words with the anger Jian awakened.
It silenced him, his first victory.
“Is this what the legendary Tamer has become in his old age? A glorified jester who clowns for his sycophants?”
A wave came from behind him. Dare he call it hope from the Cheetahs?
“Jian the Old, shouting his greatness instead of drawing his swords to prove it.”
“I have something to prove, boy?”
“Who here has seen the legendary exploits of Jian the Dark? All they’ve seen is your desertion, your cowardice, fleeing the crime of your actions. You couldn’t suffer the swords of your fellow samurai!”
“Why should I suffer the arrogance of a green boy who speaks with no stories to claim?”
“For the same reason you all heed the orders of an emperor with an untrustworthy mind!”
The wave strengthened to more than a fool’s hope. There was a turn on the field, and the confident Tiger chants seemed a distant memory. Even the Leopards watching from the ridiculous wall trickled their confidence down. The Tamers amongst them, at least.
“Why would I risk a clear victory just to bite your bait?” Jian resumed with diminished confidence.
“It is a risk for Jian the Dark to best a green boy in single combat? You allow your Tigers to die because you are too afraid. This is the great Jian the,”
“Enough!”
Prince Zaki almost flinched at Jian’s thunderous command. Everyone fell silent against the Dark’s quiet rage. For the first time, Zaki’s chest drummed beyond the deathly calm possessing him. He was alive.
“You will have your Vivada then, come and speak your terms!”
The Tigers found their voice again, overpowering the renewed wavering of the Cheetahs behind. Jian stomped towards the centre. After a nudge from Dawn through their bond, Zaki met him and his dark Bagha.
He eyed the softness in Jian’s. Now within reach of each other. A similar experience to their meeting. The lack of a beard removed accusations of senility Zaki might have thrown at him.
Dawn stood a fraction taller than Jian’s dark Bagha, who wore more than just silver in its blackened fur. The Bagha’s paws were a bland grey, and more blotches inked up its limbs. Zaki met its ruby gaze and nodded. The beast’s reply in kind was a jolt.
“Speak your terms, Prince,” Jian broke the silence first, keeping his combative tone despite the gentle expression.
He considered it for a moment. The terms of a Vivada were complex. They demanded careful words, lest more blood flows than necessary.
“Your Tigers are to disband after your defeat, back to Bag’Jagaal, to their homes, wherever, as long as it is not to the emperor. To play no more part in this war until it ends.”
“I cannot allow that specificity. Perhaps I can allow a retreat to Bag’Jagaal until the siege on Bil’Faridh ends?”
“If they don’t warn the emperor, I will take it.”
“Speak it,” Jian muttered after a moment’s pause.
“Your Tigers are to return to Bag’Jagaal and leave the emperor ignorant of what occurs here. To await the end of the siege of Bil’Faridh.”
“I accept these terms.”
“Speak yours Jian.”
“The Cheetahs are to enter Ci’Ped and remain there until the emperor has taken Bil’Faridh and ended the civil war.”
Zaki hesitated, pouring over the words as he searched for deception. The longer he stayed silent, the more the fine hairs on his neck prickled. His paranoia was winning.
“I accept.”
They began the wrestler’s handshake and recited their terms to each other word for word. An unseen tingle came over the union. A silk ribbon wrapped around their fingers, palms and wrist. Then tightened at the birth of their terms. It seared through their gloves into their flesh. This was new to him. He gritted his teeth and saw it through.
When the burning ceased, the unseen ribbons vanished, but a tingle remained. Tamers on both sides muttered the exact terms. Zaki expected more from Jian, more theatrics and boasts. Instead, the legendary Tamer twinkled. Nothing smug or arrogant. It was pride, only for him. It shattered the prince.
Anele and Sinalo offered polite advice while Jazmin checked his armour, adjusting each piece with unnecessary attentiveness. Her own fear sprinkled into his nose, while the anticipation from everyone else varied, but overpowered.
“Remember your shield, Prince.”
“The kumkani sees your potential, Prince. He speaks highly of you and your brother. Prove him right.”
Zaki grunted, forgetting the other words. Jazmin’s hands trembled on his chest when the Tigers resumed their chanting. Subtle and low, a drumbeat of stomping boots and fists thumping breastplates. Jian waited.
“Everything is as it should be?” He asked Jazmin, and she closed her eyes. Her nod was slow, almost apologetic, which was the last thing he needed. She caressed his hand and sniffed, then he turned to face the Dark.
Melina’s shield weighed down his left arm as he forced down his curls with his haloed Sinha helm.
“You ready, boy?”
“Are you?”
“I await your call.”
Zaki smirked. He drew his khopesh and met the mask-less Jian at the centre again. Dawn trailed behind, not close, but ahead of the Cheetahs. It confused the prince when he didn’t see Jian’s greying, Tamed dark Bagha nearby. The Tigers ceased their thumping chant.
Jian smiled again, unsettling him with his supposed pride. Then it changed into menace, a snarl that continued after he donned the silver mask. Jian, the demon, stood across from him now. His katanas sang out of their sheaths and Zaki raised his shield.
He stepped back after Jian’s initial flurry pinged against his bulwark. A flash of lightning still vibrating his shield arm. Everyone gasped, then silence returned as they circled each other.
Zaki calmed his skipping heart, watching Jian’s blades from over his shield while his khopesh waited. They circled, and he blocked every testing attack Jian threw at him. The Tiger added more feints as the tests increased. High and low, often wide and sweeping in his swings, Melina’s shield pinged against most of them.
Skill rarely outmatched skill in a Vivada, according to Kumkani Lihle. There weren’t many who would risk so much in the ability of lesser Tamers. Masters faced masters, battlegrounds were often flat and inconsequential. Whoever learned the other’s technique faster often stood as the victor, though Jian was a steep learning curve.
Discipline, discipline in all things.
His limbs stung, not from effort, though the sun beat down upon them and drenched his underclothes. The prickling worsened between the scaled pieces of his golden ochre armour. Jian’s katanas kept his attention. This bout was a mismatch.
Prince Zaki stepped from side to side while he back-pedalled, watching, waiting and blocking every attack he suffered. Every attack was as swift as lightning, and Jian still warmed up.
Melina’s shield strained his shoulder. His arm was numb in the straps, and he gritted his teeth.
“All Tamers start somewhere, boy,” Dawn sent through their bond.
Jian’s attacks increased in number and consistency, forcing to the prince to parry with his khopesh as well. Then a sudden katana sung against his open neck. He swerved away, only suffering a nick.
Melina’s shield took his weight as he rolled over, coated in dust and tasting blood in the air. A wave of disappointment followed.
“We all start somewhere.”
“Not everyone starts at the end!”
Prince Zaki snapped on the offensive, fuelled by frustration. Jian braced and Zaki kept his shield ready. The Tiger barely moved against his initial hacks, deflecting his childlike blows. Low or high, he made no inroads, but there was no chance for a counter.
It set ablaze his limbs, and his armour felt slick on his damp clothes. Bloody stink swirled around his nose, dominating sweat. Zaki glanced down and shuddered at the red staining his gold.
Jian snatched at his momentary distraction and hooked Melina’s shield with his ko katana. Zaki panicked and yelped as he charged forward. The white of Jian’s eyes flashed behind his silver mask when he bashed him onto his back.
Zaki missed his chance to attack, distracted by everyone’s shock. He watched Jian fall back and roll onto his feet in one motion. Tainting his ornate armour with the dusty clay, his first win.
A chill passed over him, the endless cuts on his body seared. His teeth chattered as Jian approached, yet the sun blazed above. With gritted teeth, he sparked a fire in his chest, and the shivering eased.
Jian was onto of him as the immolation spread. Once again, Zaki moved with freedom, as much freedom as hiding behind his shield allowed. The Tiger slowed in attack, wheezing.
Zaki’s gritted teeth stretched into a grin, and his immolation strengthened. He charged forward after a lapse from Jian, enjoying the return of his wide eyes. His attacks blazed. Melina’s shield joined his khopesh in the attack, first the face, then the edge.
Jian rasped as he back pedalled, counter slicing to no avail. Zaki’s eyes burned. He saw nothing but the fire within, and the icy darkness that wished to freeze it. The prince yearned to laugh.
Then he blinked.
Jian was face to face with him, groaning against the heat emanating from his body. Zaki jumped away, but not before his left hand exploded with fire. One strap snapped and Melina’s shield slipped.
The prince jumped away again, but another blink, and Jian huffed further away. Melina’s shield slipped again. He snatched at the final strap, but yelped at the sharp throbbing numbness stiffening his hand. His palm was slick, and the strap slipped from his weak grip. The shield fell with a thud.
Zaki strengthened his immolation, killing the numbing. Dawn’s concern surged through their bond.
“I have him!”
Zaki charged again, both hands on his khopesh, the slickness gone from his left hand. One moment Jian was ahead, then he was to his right, and Zaki slipped out of the way just in time. Another blink later, Jian stood over him, grimacing with his attack halfway through. But the prince kicked the Tiger’s ankles, forcing him to vanish in another puff of blackness.
The world turned to fire, but Jian was easier to spot. He stank of burned linens and his wheezing whistled. Zaki fought to keep the immolation in check. His armour was intense, burning his bare flesh, his hair singed.
Jian charged, blinking in clouds of darkness. One moment on his left, then on his right. Until he stood over him. Zaki just kept the katanas at bay, forced to use his bracer, returning the dull throb to his left hand.
He spun around, parrying every attack from the cloud of shadows, most of which he did. Others littered his body with more openings. His immolation dulled all the pain while threatening to burst him from within.
Jian’s attacks became flimsy, hardly breaking his skin when he broke through the prince’s defences. The constant blinking from one location to the other drained him so much the man eventually didn’t attack. Zaki followed him, becoming lightheaded as he watched, waiting for the next attack. Grateful for the Tiger’s generosity. Yet controlling his immolation drained whatever recovery he might have earned.
Zaki wailed suddenly, during a lull in his concentration. A katana tore its way through his forearm, right above his scaled bracers. Until the pristine steel poked out the other side. In a teary-eyed rage, he yanked his arm away, then swung wildly.
There was a nasty crack and a grunt before Zaki’s arm exploded with pain. His khopesh clattered to the floor as he cradled his katana ruined arm. He blinked away the tears when the retaliation didn’t come, looking up at a dazed Jian. The man stumbled to keep his balance.
Jian’s mask crumbled off of his face. His helm dented, with a piece hanging off the side. Blood streamed down the left side of his face, and he blinked away the emptiness in his eyes.
Zaki couldn’t hold the immolation, it eked out of his many holes too slowly to aid him. He was ready to pop, and Jian’s remaining katana hung in the air, waiting to deliver the killing blow.
“Now!”
Zaki forced all of his remaining fire into his hands and surged to his feet. A debilitating explosion chilled him to the bone. Jian stepped back but swiped for his leg before Zaki took hold of his wrist. It was weak, but the gash in his thigh gushed open all the same.
He strangled Jian’s wrists with his failing strength, using him to stay upright while his knees buckled. His vision cleared and the fire in his eyes faded, though he became faint. Jian dropped his katana but did not resist his grip. There was a smile on his face. He shut his eyes and smiled, grateful for the end.
Dawn was on him in a blink, pouncing with the lightning swiftness of Jian’s katanas. The Tiger’s body slumped backwards and Zaki let him go before he fell down with him. Zaki couldn’t see much, he couldn’t hear much, he hardly realised he was on his knees.
Zaki’s left hand came into view, and it was missing the smallest finger, while the ring finger was hanging on by a thread. He let go of his surging breakfast onto his chest, and it sizzled against his hot scale armour.
There was a noise, cheering, roaring, braying. It all sounded the same to him. Every blink was much too long to call it such, and when he fell back, the ground was soft, and the last thing he saw was the most beautiful, grey eyed woman above him.