I snarled. “Dammit! I don’t want to fight you, if I could I wouldn’t be fighting at all.” I stalked away, she followed. “You’re just going to keep pushing it aren’t you? When it comes down for me to leave then what, challenge me straight to a duel for honour or something? Is there actually any honour in winning against a handicapped person? If I win, you get bested by an injured man? That’s better?!”
We were catching the attention of a few of the Kithar as we passed. She stepped in front of me. “It would prove that I can’t be just beaten by you.” She said, her voice raising. “They believe you to be a… warrior spirit… totem? I don’t know the word, but I know I can stand almost equally to you, I won’t let them keep putting me down.” She bristled.
I scowled. “That’s the thing isn’t it? It’s about you. Your damn pride and your damn image.” More frustration boiled to the surface. “You could just as well prove it later can’t you? So many other things you can fight, all of them threatening someone’s safety or someone else’s property. Hell, you can always go volunteer for the Edratchi, I’m sure the front needs more warm bodies anyway.” I stopped, hissing through my teeth. “Didn’t mean that.” I said solemnly. “Didn’t mean that…”
She paused, watching me silently, before speaking. “They won’t let me.” She muttered, voice soft enough that no one else could hear. “They’ll leave me here to walk around and keep watch, stay safe. I don’t have the chance to prove myself.”
And you won’t disobey direct orders. I realized. So there’s no way to prove yourself in a meaningful way except against someone considered exceptional. My steps paused. As I was, I was wounded and a little tired, it’d be a handicap, but even so… would she really be good enough?
[You should ask about the terms, if it is a fight to surrender you will need different tactics from a fight to first blood.] I nodded. Good point.
“What are the terms, and how does this work?” I asked, leaning against a nearby wall.
“The challenge is issued by one of us to the other, and one of the elders presides over it. We get our pick from the practice weapons and we fight the other for two turns of the sandglass.” She stopped, then took another breath. “There are no determined winners or losers unless one of us gives up in between, if we are ‘killed’, the opponent has to let up so the fight can continue anew.”
“Huh… so we keep fighting until it ends, giving everyone a… measure? Of each others abilities?” I cupped my chin. “Interesting I suppose, go ahead.”
She cleared her throat. “We’d need to be with the elders for them to accept the challenge…”
“Pretty sure they’re right behind you.” I said, Sense having identified a group of people who stood with authority behind her. I heard her turn and give a surprised gasp. “Huh, so I’m right. Wonderful. Issue your challenge then.” She took a breath, but one of the elders spoke first, frantically gesticulating towards Saindall.
“Please forgive her impetuousness.” Saindall translated. “I would prefer if this did not come to blows. Name your price for her words and I will gladly pay it.”
“Her father then?” I asked, turning to Saindall, who nodded. “Figured there was more to it, more like a family spat isn’t it?” I called out to the Kithar woman. She frowned, and called out her challenge. Saindall cocked her head.
“Mulia daughter of Laimin challenges the Masked of… outworld to the combat gauntlet.” Saindall translated. She frowned at me. “You aren’t actually going to do this are you?” She asked. “This could just as easily sabotage our efforts.” She said urgently.
“I’m not with you, and besides, she’s the challenger, and this is their ritual. I accept.” I reply, giving a nod and a bow to Mulia, as she had named herself. Saindall grimaced, but reluctantly relayed my answer. The elder seemed to deflate, he retreated, staring worriedly at his daughter. “You know.” I whispered to her as we passed. “You really should try talking a bit more with him, back home we’d say he had a shadow over his heart.”
“I’ve tried.” She replied softly, her face somewhat pained. “He’s afraid of losing me, and fear like that… I can’t make promises I can’t guarantee to be true.” I nodded a little, reminded of Alida. Opposite parents in that case. I thought. But I suppose they’re different circumstances. Born and bred warriors those… I thought, smiling wryly.
We stepped into an arena of sorts, more like a low fence erected around a pit of compressed earth. They gave us a set of armour to wear, requiring me to change into it to keep the fight fair. I picked up a staff, a blunted sword was actually pretty worthless, though theirs were somewhat weighted, functionally more like clubs than anything else. I settled into stance, watching Mulia.
I tried to extend my Sense out, but found it stunted, somehow limited. The armour? I thought to myself. It blocks it like a wall or like other solid objects, is the Liaen a special case? Damn, no practice in today then. I snuffed it. Good old fashioned it is…
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She sprung towards me, whirling her claws to trap me between them. I twirled the staff, slapping both out of the way and shifting into a striking motion. It glanced against her shoulder as she dodged out of the way, my weakness impacting my speed. I shifted my foot, drawing the tip back and leaning it against her chest to push her away as she swiped at me. Feinting upwards, I smiled grimly and swept her feet out from under her. In two turns, she touched me a total of five times.
I rolled to my feet, shrugging off her blow, staff poised to thrust, but the elder calls time. I deflect her already lunging claws, then stand to salute. I’m impressed despite myself, her skill is genuine, and I only managed to pin her once. “It was a good fight.” I answer. She smiled tiredly.
“I almost had you once.” She says. Not quite. I think, though I keep it to myself. She’s proven herself above average compared to most soldiers, though I wouldn’t know if their averages were the same. The others seemed impressed, and their gazes were on her and not on me, which had to count for something. I hadn’t gone easy on her, trials like these only had meaning if I gave my all.
“Hope that’s enough.” I muttered, doffing the armour and passing back the staff. As I donned my own armour a few members of the crowd stepped forward to talk to Mulia. I didn’t understand the words, but they were obviously ecstatic, and glad for her. She gave me a small smile, hidden from the crowd, and I simply nodded, turning to go. “Unless there’s anything else we should probably leave.” I said to Cale, replacing my faceplate and putting my weapons back on.
“Let’s.” He said, watching the elders carefully, most of them showed no response, except a slight nod in my direction. Laimin had retired a few seconds into the fight, though I had not missed the look of helpless frustration he gave me. It seems we hadn’t offended them at least, though if it had managed to make them call off an alliance they’d have to be very petty indeed.
Once we were out of earshot Saindall turned to me. “That was remarkably stupid… Why’d you let her goad you into that? Congratulations, you’ve proved you can win against a guard not into her third year of service.” She said her head and arms raised to the sky in mock admiration. “Honestly…”
I said nothing, mulling over the repercussions of explaining frankly I sympathised with her and her plans in a way. I couldn’t be sure, but I doubt she fully realized that there might be effects on my reputation. She was looking for a method within the rules to prove herself, cracking her head against it all for a chance. Admirable, and besides, I doubt I would come across them again for a long time.
I shook my head eventually, rocking back my head and letting out a chuckle. “I had my reasons.” I answered, ignoring the glare she gave me. “In any case, Toras should be able to pick us up now right?” I asked, watching as the dragon landed next to us. “Oh, there you are.” The others arched an eyebrow.
It nodded to me. “I saw the fight.” It said, a neutral tone to its voice, an observation without judgement. “If I recall we were to drop you off in Torven? Teal has already provided the directions.” I nodded, the others raised an eyebrow at the name. “The copper scale.” Toras provided, the others nodded in understanding. “Toras is my name by the way.” A hint of amusement tinging its voice.
“Sorry, it’s just normally it’s provided mutually in our introductions…” Cale answered. “I found it awkward to ask after we’d introduced ourselves and had not gained your name.” The dragon nodded, laughing a little to show that there were no hard feelings.
The trip itself was uneventful, I dismounted carefully, waving them off. “Good luck!” I shouted to them, saluting them as they were lifted back into the air. I headed back towards the building we’d been given. The others fell into silence again as I entered, but I ignored it, going up the stairs again and changing into plain clothes, and leaving the soul copy on the table. I silently slipped down to join the bustle below, wandering over to the table with the archer and spearman from before.
I pulled a chair, and they looked over to me, giving me a tentative smile. “Are you two holding up fine?” I asked, leaning forward and drawing my eyebrows together. Losing a squad member had been difficult even without knowing them too well, this friend of theirs had probably come up with them in search of adventure. A companion instead of just a colleague.
“We’re better now, thanks.” The archer said to me. “We managed to bring… most of Riche back.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper, and she took another drink. Hope they aren’t becoming alcoholics… Horrible coping mechanism.
“So, are you looking to take on another mission later?” I asked, curious what they were doing here, I would have figured they’d be taking a rest instead after it all… Like I should really…
“Something like that…” The spearman answered, the archer chewed on her lip, and I saw both their glances slide from me. I turned to see Linden at another table. The woman there seemed to have had enough of him, and scowling turned him away. I frowned. What does he have to do with anything?
“What’re you looking at?” Linden asked, his voice brusque. “Let’s go, I’m in the mood for another job now.” I looked at his gear, maintained, clean, but the leathers had alcohol stains, some looked old, but I wasn’t sure.
“Why in all hell are you following him?” I asked. “He’s… a horrible influence.” I choked out.
“Watch it kid.” Linden snapped at me. “Just so happens that after that debacle these two aren’t allowed to go out on their lonesome, and guess what, there ain’t no one else with more room for two hanger ons.” My eyebrows knitted together. “What about you huh? Can’t imagine you managed to get work unless you attached yourself to some other group, cutthroat ain’t you?” He gave a leer and a grin, and I found my teeth gritted together.
I snarled at him. “I’ll take them off your hands. I don’t trust you with a single one of them.” I said, holding his gaze.
He snorted. “Go ahead, it lets me walk away and Tina can’t pester me about it anymore.” He chuckled. “I’ll be able to take on something that isn’t kiddy level.”