Morrigan was surrounded by hundreds of hissing Marmuro’k as she stood in the center of the coliseum. The roar of their excitement was deafening as everyone cheered for the upcoming fight.
Morrigan barely managed an hour of relaxation with her promise to Skoll that he could hunt on the outskirts of Tikal before Xol hunted her down. Apparently, the Marmuro’k wasted no time preparing for the Trial of Fire as soon as they heard the judgement of Lakai. The trip was a seven-hour trek for her and Skoll, though she wondered why they expected her back so soon, aside from the fact that Xitzocl knew she could fly.
Xitzocl tried to badger her with questions like a reptilian fan girl as Xol gave her a brief explanation of the Trial of Fire but Morrigan had to demand she waited till after the fight. It was after all, a fight to the death.
Morrigan watched with morose curiosity at the gathered Marmuro’k, curious if they were excited for her or excited for the impending bloodshed. Her thoughts were scattered as she heard the massive metal gate across from her grind as it rose to allow the entrance of her opponent.
Who walked in was a 13-foot Timse’h, nearly naked except for a loincloth brandishing the bold colors of Clan Tau, and wielding a ridiculously large crude stone battle hammer. Morrigan snorted, since she expected Clan Tau to send their biggest and strongest Marmuro’k. She glanced to her right along the first row in the stands to find Azuhcu’ach standing with a smug, tall fanged grin on his face.
However, the three other chieftains next to Azuhcu’ach got to their feet in stoic pride as the stadium went silent. She recognized them as Excel-Guai-Dji’fahd, a Timse’h, Comich-Furok, another Timse’h, and Ude'ze-Ra’kesh’kato, the second Kêzi’kân; all Clans of Fire, before the shouts of outrage started.
Morrigan furrowed her brows as she looked back at her opponent to find three other contenders had joined the Timse’h on the field, two Kêzi’kân brandishing metal swords and shields, and a S’randin carrying a large battle axe, all wearing the colors of the other three clans.
The crowd went silent again which caught her attention before she heard, “What is the meaning of this!?” a bold, hostile question coming from Xitzocl.
Azuhcu’ach's grin was feral as he addressed the crowd, “This human has made a mockery of our sacred tradition! Though Lakai the Ancient has granted this meager creature the right of the Trial of Fire, we, the chieftains of the warrior castes of Fire, do not agree. If this human wishes to prove herself Marmuro’k, then she will face a champion from each Fire Clan! If she succeeds, we shall concede and give her the full honor a Marmuro’k deserves!”
Once again, the coliseum erupted into discordant shouting. What no one paid attention to was that the S’randin made his move dashing across the gap between Morrigan and the four contenders and took a wild swing at her.
Hey Mori! Apollyon tried to warn her however, Morrigan never took her attention off the four Marmuro’k in the first place. She heard the S’randin move across the dusty arena well before he got close enough to swing.
“Yep,” she said before reaching out and seizing the shaft of the battle axe as it arced towards the side of her head without looking. The S’randin’s hiss of surprise was met with the crowd’s surprise as the S’randin tried to yank the weapon back.
The weapon did not budge though as her power enhanced strength kept her fingers locked around the weapon. A simple yet unjustified trick to attempt to blindside her was both dishonorable and insulting to the Marmuro’kin the stands. The only thing the S’randin of Clan Furok managed to do was piss her off.
Morrigan looked down at the crudely designed sword she was given for the fight. To call it crude was a simple injustice, the weapon was not smooth and perfectly dimensioned like a power sword or even a sword from the ancient eras of Earth, it was heavy, jagged and built in the likeness of a crude, thin single edged saw blade; it was made to painfully shed blood and cause grievous wounds.
Morrigan yanked on the axe handle as it’s blade hung two inches from her face and pulled the S’randin closer to her in a surge of strength that caught the reptilian humanoid off guard, more so when she plunged her own blade into his gut and wretched it higher into his ribcage.
She eyed the chieftain of clan Furok who growled angrily as he watched Morrigan disembowel the S’randin in the most painful way possible before she let her enemy fall to the ground dead.
“I didn’t want to do that, but I have no choice… and I am sick and tired of all this prejudicial crap,” she murmured to herself in disgust and anger.
Her memory flashed briefly as she recalled what Lakai had told her, to ‘always think, always feel and to shroud the hate in Marmuro’k hearts’.
“But how do you shroud hate if not with love? Which I have shown since I was little…” she questioned the ancient Marmuro’k’s request.
Oh, that’s easy. By removing hope.
Morrigan’s face twisted in disbelieving and questioning surprise, “What?”
Hate breeds by the hope of one being right in their prejudice. Whether it be the hope of success, or the hope that their truth will come to light, hope is what drives all train of conscious opinion, Apollyon explained.
“Hope drives all train of conscious opinion…” she said aloud as she considered every conscious opinion she had as of late. Regardless of how small or large the opinion she had, if she broke it down to its core values, Morrigan found that hope was a main component.
Whether it was her choice to hate the Warden, because she hoped he was as evil as a man she decided he was, or her love of Nora because she hoped the beautiful and eclectic woman would turn out to be as amazing as her beauty, even her conscious decision to trust Torvil years ago, because she hoped that his honor meant that she was not alone in her pursuits to escape. What ever she thought of, she found a string of hope.
That begged the question, what did these chieftains hope for in their choice to hate her for what she is? She knew the answer; her death.
Morrigan ground her teeth as her gaze swept over the four of them, raising the bloody sword to silence the now cheering crowd. As all fell silent, she called out, “Your dishonorable challenge is accepted!”
Her defiant nature grated the chieftain pride as the crowd erupted in approval as they began chanting the rather insulting word for human, “Mônkee”, though they did not mean it in a negative way.
Morrigan turned to her three remaining opponents and shifted her new battle axe into a comfortable grip. One of the Kêzi’kân and the Timse’h both stepped forward and readied themselves as they moved to flank her. The last Kêzi’kân seemed intelligent enough to study her as his counterparts made their assault.
The Timse’h moved in with an overhead swing of the massive hammer only to have it diverted by Morrigan who spun to the right and brought the axe head into the head of the hammer in a savage swing.
The Kêzi’kân moved in with a similar move, his finely honed sword parried by Morrigan’s free sword followed by a wrathful kick to the shield that pushed him back several feet. Morrigan shifted her grip on the shaft of the axe and made a long arcing swing and buried the axe head into the ground as the Kêzi’kân jumped back in surprise.
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Morrigan noticed right away though the Timse’h were the strongest physically speaking, and possibly just as resilient, they were sluggish due to their hulking size and lacked the finesse to recover from an attack as fast as a Kêzi’kân or S'randin.
Though she could end the fight quickly using her claws, forearm blades or wings, she was determined to prove to the Marmuro’k she did not have to rely on her most devastating aspects of her abilities to win.
Morrigan rammed the length of her blade into the Timse’h’s forearm as it tried to wretch the hammer back. The blade render flesh and bone as it snagged and shredded tendons before she stepped onto the shaft of the axe and jumped high into the air, and brought her fist down atop of the alligator-like Marmuro’k's snout.
The Timse’h staggered back from the pain of his arm being rendered useless and the hammering blow to the tip of his mouth only to find Morrigan hefting his own massive weapon over her shoulder in a brilliant show of strength.
To see such a small woman wield a weapon twice her size was both comical and enthralling as the Marmuro’k in the surrounding stands went silent in anticipation and morbid curiosity.
Morrigan’s body crackled with crimson energy as she pushed her strength higher and swung towards the Timse’h's right leg.
The resounding crack that buckled the Timse’h leg caused the massive Marmuro’k to bellow in pain as he dropped to his knee. Morrigan let the strike carry her through though as the incredible weight of the hammer head spun her around and let her drag the weapon in a powerfully wide arc and carry through to connect with his jaw in a near underhanded swing.
Teeth and jawbone shattered as the Timse’h was thrown onto his back and the hammer flew over Morrigan’s head and completed its arc, luckily impacting the ground with a resonating thud into the soft dirt in front of the approaching Kêzi’kân behind her.
As the Kêzi’kân leapt backwards again in a hiss of surprise, Morrigan dragged the hammer back to her shoulder and stepped closer to her downed victim. With a final display of power, she hefted the hammer in an overhead swing and shattered the ribcage of the Timse’h, leaving the hammer sitting on his chest as she moved to where her sword was buried within its right arm.
The crowd went wild with her second kill, ecstatic by her prowess and delighted in her surprising amount of strength. With a sickening tearing sound, she pulled the jagged toothed sword free from its meaty sheath and dragged the jagged blade across the Timse’h’s throat in a squelched release of life-force.
Morrigan did not want to risk the chance of having not killed the Timse’h with that final hammer blow and wielding the massive weapon was exhausting, so she made sure the problem was solved before it became a real problem.
You’re getting quite good at this little goddess, Apollyon snickered in dark delight.
Morrigan only growled her frustration regarding her situation, having to murder Marmuro’k to earn the right to be heard. She hated it, and each kill only pissed her off even more. Her gaze shifted back on the first Kêzi’kân who attacked her, who seemed to be on the defensive now. She studied the field between her and the Kêzi’kân, seeing the battle axe two feet in front of her opponent. With a plan in mind, she used her strengthened legs to dash across the gap.
She slashed at the Kêzi’kân as she met her mark, letting him block her blow with his shield before she kicked out at the shield and sent the Kêzi’kân flying back.
The warrior landed on his feet though and readied himself for her next dash though instead of dashing, she chucked her sword at him. The Kêzi’kân’s confidence was strengthened at its ability to remain standing and took a sharp swing at her flying blade and cut it from the air, letting it stick up in the ground to its side before raising its shield defensively again.
That was her plan all along as she grabbed ahold the large axe and pried it from the ground. She could see concern in the warrior’s eyes though his defiant demeanor never faltered as he watched her wield her newest weapon. She dashed forward again with the axe head trialing behind her in a hauled back swing. The Kêzi’kân dodged and swung back at her as her weapon bit into the ground again.
She blocked the blow with the throat of the shaft and counter swung in an upward diagonal direction. To her surprise, the Kêzi’kân backhanded her weapon away with the shield and followed with his sword.
Morrigan released her weapon and bent backwards in a panicked dodge before coming back with a left hook directly into the side of the Kêzi’kân’s face. As the Kêzi’kân staggered, she jabbed with her right fist and pegged the warrior right in the snout. This time, Morrigan made a grab for the shield and delivered a sturdy kick straight to his chest and sent the warrior flying back nearly ten feet back onto his back all the while retaining his metal round shield.
By the movements of the Kêzi’kân as he stood, he was now pissed and approached her with reckless abandon as she equipped the shield properly. The warrior swung wildly in violent, determined slashes and stabs that Morrigan parried with the shield. The Kêzi’kân kept enough pressure on her to keep her from taking another swing or kick at him however, any good warrior knew a shield could be just as deadly as any weapon.
Morrigan patiently blocked and guided his strikes as she waited for him to fully loose his cool. With a savage roar, her moment came as the Kêzi’kân swung widely. She took the opportunity to slam the edge of the shield into his wrist with bone cracking force, causing him to release his weapon with a painful yelp. With a mighty back hand with the shield, she sent the warrior tumbling back and leapt after him. Bringing the shield edge across his face and slamming his crest into the ground.
Morrigan savaged the Kêzi’kân using the shield as a blunt weapon, pounding it across his face and chest as he struggled to gain enough purchase to shove her away and stand again. Morrigan would not allow that though as she gripped the shield with both hands and slammed it down onto his throat.
There was a disgusting crunch as his throat and windpipe collapsed under her blow, the second slam biting into the ruined muscle and biting halfway through his neck. His dying gurgle only fueled her anger as she slammed the shield down a final time, his head disconnecting from his body and tumbling a foot away, blood pouring profusely from his severed neck as she huffed indignantly.
She was tired, having been on the road for 16 hours not including the time spent with Lakai required her to fuel her body with her innate energy. The fight required her to push even more energy through her body to keep herself standing but she was confident she was no where near her limit, not like last time.
Nah, you’re good. I’m willing to bet you could keep this up for a solid 22 more hours before you put yourself in danger again, Apollyon mused.
Morrigan sighed as she eyed the last Kêzi’kân still standing in place, having not moved since the start of the fight. Though she had no reason not to believe Apollyon, her body’s exhaustion told another story. Still, she had a fight to win and a set of chieftains to put in their place before she could even consider resting.
She stood up from the corpse of her latest quarry and grabbed his fallen sword before moving to her own sword. She wished she could have used her own blade however, the Marmuro’k knew it had a gun built-in thus deeming it a dishonorable weapon for the Trial of Fire, not that the Fire clans were being honorable in their end.
With a twirl of both blades, she walked towards the final Marmuro’k who spent the match studying her. The warrior raised his shield as she approached and readied his sword with utmost calmness, this warrior was a patient and calculated veteran as far as Morrigan could tell.
Her aggressive lack of patience had her play the aggressor as she lashed out in a torrent of slashes. To her surprise, the Kêzi’kân expertly blocked her attacks with calculated finesse, which did not ease her anger as the battle dragged out longer than she wanted.
The warrior began prodding her defenses, making her parry, block and dodge as he used both tools at his disposal, as well as his meaty tail though it lacked any threatening length.
A slash across her side and down her leg caused her to wince angrily as she kicked at the Kêzi’kân’s shield. She killed three of her opponents without managing any sort of damage but now, due to either the warrior’s skill or simply her exhaustion, she appeared to be getting sloppy.
To prove her point, the warrior barreled into her with his shield and shoved her back enough to afford a heavy downward slash at her. Except, she crossed her swords to catch the blade in a successful block.
What she did not expect, was the rim of the shield to slam into her face in a sucker punch, the edge biting into her face and cutting a long gash across the right side of her cheek and jaw. She staggered back as her vision blurred for a moment before the reality of what happened cause her rage to soar. She could feel her own blood run down her face and neck before the wound began to close.
The Kêzi’kân did not notice her demeanor change as he stepped forward for a swipe of his blade only for a set of crimson claws to reach out in blinding speed, catching the blade in her bare hand with a vise like grip.
Morrigan’s body flooded with seething cold rage as she met the eyes of the struggling Kêzi’kân, all the while the stolen sword she dropped thumped on the ground between them. His shock and worry were prevalent in his eyes as she shifted his arm away from her with her crimson grip.
“You are a warrior worthy of my true power, take solace that your death will not be in vain. I will protect Tik’Taq’To, and the rest of the Marmuro’k,” she stated coldly in his language, making sure he understood before she squeezed her hand and shattered the blade.
In profound surprise, the warrior tried to raise his shield only to have it knocked aside by the pommel of her sword as she hauled back and rammed the jagged sword into his stomach, aiming underneath his sternum and aiming directly for his heart.
She watched the life drain from his eyes as the vicious weapon shredded his most vital organ before he dropped away from her and the crowd erupted in raucous cheers.