Galliard grunted as he dragged himself out of the crater he found himself in, the shattered bones in his legs shifting and mending back into place. The agony that came with regrowing bones and cartilage no longer affected him like it did before, it happened so much now that it barely even registered. Dragging himself over to where his brother was using his telekinesis to play fetch with the little pup.
“You could have helped at least!” He snapped at the two of them, not sure himself which one he was angrier with at the moment. When they stopped what they were doing to look at him for a moment before going back to their game it only angered him more. “You are supposed to help protect me from dangers.”
The pup let out a little huff that, if he did not know any better, he would say sounded like a laugh. The prince grunted in annoyance at the useless varmint he was left with; it did not seem like it even knew how to fight. He felt a bit dejected, not only was it useless but also insubordinate. Getting such a small and harmless creature as a familiar had to be Atrea punishing him for some sin from a past life.
To make matters worse Wrath refused to say anything about the fact that he had gotten such a puny beast. He usually took every possible opportunity to crack jokes at him and if he did not have anything to say now, he must be truly disappointed. Though he found it strange that he was using his time to keep the small puppy entertained. The youngest sibling of wrath grunted as the manticore slammed against a hastily erected shield of stone. The earth barrier cracked and parts of it shattered with each blow from the multi-ton abomination. With a flick of his wrist, the barrier becomes a massive set of manacles that clamp around the beast and throw it away from him. The yowl from the monster made him smile as it sailed away and landed heavily somewhere out of sight with a heavy crash.
Galliard shook his head and brought himself to his feet as soon as they finished healing. The boy channelled his magic into his eyes with a thought to search for the manticore with his mage sight. He spotted it a ways off in a cave beside the ocean. Shattering the vice clamped around it with an enraged roar.
Taking a few steps back he readies his body and sprints in that direction at a blinding speed. His leap propelled him far above the treeline, absently noticing a line of felled gelt trees his adversary had crashed into with amusement. He landed twenty paces away from the monstrosity and walked up towards it with determination. The beast lifted its head as it heard him approach and let out a threatening growl.
This did not faze the boy as he strode towards it. He spars against the likes of the Wandering Amazon and the heir of House Grusom so
something like this could never intimidate him. He stopped in front of the cave and the beast came rushing out with fury in its eyes. He smirked at the beast only enraging it further, licks of flame started appearing around him as he began to gather magic towards his hands. Forming into a winged spear and he wrapped his hands around the shaft of his new weapon.
The animal kept flying towards him and he took a step backwards before he charged towards the hybrid at full force. His eyebrows knit together in concentration and he vaulted up with his spear meeting it in the air. As the beast approached he twisted his body and sent a powerful kick to its temple meeting his target mid-flight and causing it to crash into the ocean. The beast skidded across the water like a skipped stone before stopping and dropping into the vast ocean.
It took a few seconds but when it finally resurfaced it was even more irate than before. Blood wept from the open wound upon its face and Galliard could see its ribs poking out from a wound in its side. Such damage would fell a lesser monster, or at least make it consider retreat, but the Manticore seemed more enraged than afraid. A mighty roar erupted that shook the air like thunder as it rushed towards the prince once more.
Galliard grumbled to himself, annoyed at the tenacity of the monster as he slowly descended towards it. His magic kept him aloft for the moment as the wind swelled and swirled around his feet. Although he supposed he would have been similarly furious at someone who had woken him with lightning bolts as well. The young man dashed towards the beast meeting its charge with the point of his spear.
The Manticore stopped its charge with its wings, changing its direction a split second before the flaming spear could pierce its skull. Galliard cursed under his breath as he shifted his strike, aiming to clip the wings and force it groundwards. He had to abandon this plan however when the massive stinger of the beast lashed out aiming for his chest. Beads of venom on the tip of the barbed appendage sizzled as it made contact with the conjured weapon. Such potent venom would paralyse even a Mask of his age. Though it was unlikely it could not kill him outright, still, the lordling did not fancy being eaten alive by a giant mutated lion if he could help it.
“This thing is tougher than it should be.” The lordling muttered, taking note that his weapon had only heated the chitin of the tail rather than burning through it.
The sentiment was reinforced when that same tail swatted him further into the air despite him bracing with his spear. He righted himself mid-flight, dodging with a burst of air from his palm, the massive claws of his opponent grazing a cheek as they passed by him. He stabbed at the paw and found the flesh there to be much more durable than expected. Galliard hummed to himself in thought, he had not had any issue damaging the hide before, yet now his blade bit shallow. A magical ability perhaps, many strong monsters were known to be able to use magic themselves. It was part of the reason they hunted mages, after all, to grow their power. How unfortunate for it, that it had not used it before he had opened its side.
Moving forward in a burst of speed Galliard ducked under a meaty paw. The blow sailed over his head as he drove his weapon into the side of his enemy’s wound. The prince could smell the burning flesh of the monster as it howled in pain. Raking the speartip down as far as he could the prince opened the wound, blood, entrails and smoke falling into the sea. Even now, with its intestines tainting the sea crimson, the monster bounded towards him in fury. Its maw opened in a roar that promised death to its enemy. He was impressed, truly, by the abomination before him. Most beings, monster or otherwise, lacked the will to continue to fight with their innards spilling out.
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Thinking better than to meet the beast head-on, he stepped to the side once again, seeking to plunge his weapon into the Manticore's side a second time. The large stinger of the lion snapped out like lightning in response, seeking the Mask’s throat. Annoyed at the foresight of his enemy Galliard clicked his tongue, forcing himself back before it could make contact. This had to end quickly, the prince thought, as he distanced himself with a burst of air. The monster’s blood was saturating the sea below, not to mention the dimming of Xal. There were far worse things in the sea and the sky at night, all far greater than the thing that flew towards him now.
Narrowing his eyes the spear in his hands burst, a new tool taking its place, as the flames condensed into a dozen daggers. Dodging the strike of the beast the young prince launched the blades at the wound, despite the lion’s best efforts, it could not block them all. Half a dozen blades bit deep into the open wound and with a flex of his power, Galliard forced them to expand. The Manticore tried in vain to shake the weapons free as they burned it from the inside. Blood and smoke coming from the ever-expanding hole in its side now. Still, it came, perhaps in some desperate final act to take him with it.
It would never make it, the flames reached its heart and the beast fell from the skies. Crashing into the sea as it choked on ash and flame.
Galliard sighed as he descended, grabbing the beast by the main before it could sink too far. A blade of flame condensed in his hand, one strike, two, three and the head came free of the body. Holding his trophy, the prince nodded to himself, satisfied at the kill. It was time for him to return now, leaving the rest of the body for the monsters of the deep to consume.
Galliard descended from the skies, with the head of the Manticore in his hands. Sore and bruised as he was, his Blessed nature was healing the damage quickly. Wrath and the pup were still playing their little game of fetch and his mouth twitched in annoyance. This whole time while he was fighting they had been lazing around doing nothing. The beast had been given to him to help protect him and fight by his side but it was too busy following his brother around to help him.
It was probably better that way anyways, the thing was so small it would not have lasted that long out there with him in that fight. He would have to train the hound, it was no use to him as it was, perhaps he was thinking of it the wrong way even. It was young and yet to grow, maybe in time it would be a familiar worth having.
“You are finally done,” Wrath said standing up straight, “It took you long enough.”
His mouth twitched again as he fought off a snarky reply, he was in no mood for his brother's mouth.
“I defeated the beast as you ordered.” He growled through his teeth. “Can we just go home now?”
“Somebody is snappy.” Wrath poked at his brother in amusement. “Are you upset the beast was not as easy to defeat as you thought?”
His youngest sibling sent him a scathing glare but did not rise to his brother’s bait.
“After all that big talking you were doing I bet this humbled you quite a bit.” Wrath chuckled at his youngest sibling. “You may have improved from the disgrace you were before but that does not mean you have become a master just yet.”
“I know.” Galliard sighed at the words, nothing he had not heard before.
“Do not let your progress go to your head or you are destined to fail,” Wrath glanced upwards for a moment before looking back to his brother. “You still have a long way to go before you are ready to fight in the wars to come.”
Galliard lowered his head and let out a defeated sigh. Knowing everything his brother was saying was the complete truth and did not dare argue. The young prince had let his pride get the better of him. Finally bringing Tara down in their recent spars he had been walking on cloud nine. However, it was vital to remember that she was only an initiate and was three years his junior, so defeating her was not something to celebrate.
“You are right brother,” Galliard raised his head even as he sighed in defeat. “I have become too cocky, I should not let something so slight make my ego so great.”
Galliard sighed once more, frustrated with his actions. Disappointed in himself for letting it go to his head but underneath it all, he felt anger towards his father. But feeling so only made guilt rise up in him, for feeling such a strong and negative emotion towards a man that was no longer among the living. He knew, however, that had it not been for him, the boy would have been much further in his training, and would not need to spend so much time proving himself to others.
“I know father thought he was doing what was best for me by shielding me away from it all but I can’t understand why.” Galliard shrugged, unsure.“Why would he do this to me?”
Wrath watched his younger brother, head hung in shame, his heart went out to the boy. He would never know what it was like to be front and centre of everyone's ridicule. As the heir of Wrath, he had been groomed from birth for his role, as had his sister as Princess of Embers. He could see that his brother genuinely wanted to improve which is the only reason Wrath even bothered to assist the boy.
“We had an uncle long ago that died before I was even thought of.” Wrath spoke softly, thinking he deserved to know the truth. “Like you, he was born without the will to fight but grandfather still forced him into battle.”
Galliard looked up at his brother, confused as this was the first time he had ever heard about his father having another sibling outside of their aunts Ivory and Tisha. As far as he knew the old Lord of Wrath was the only boy born to his father.
“As the heir to the throne, our grandfather pushed him hard to make him a proper warrior.” Lord Wrath paused for a moment to think before he continued. “Though grandfather pushed him too hard and whilst in the middle of a battle he decided he had enough and laid down his blade.”
Galliard's eyes widen in shock as what his brother says reaches his ears. All of a sudden everything made sense, the way his father babied him and refused to challenge him.
“Uncle had begged grandfather to let him pursue his own interest and just give the position of Lord to father but he refused.” Wrath crossed his arms leaning back. “In the end, he became disgusted with his station and decided he would rather cease breathing than to bring so much pain to others.”
“When you were born you resembled our uncle, so much so that they gave you his name to honour him.” The lord of the thousand masks looked down at his brother.“Though the older you got Father realised that you took after him in more than just looks.”
“He watched uncle suffer trying to be something he was not and vowed to never do to you what was done to him.” Wrath scoffed to himself shaking his head. “He was trying to protect you, but in his desire to do so, stunted your growth, now that selfish wish has brought you to danger all the same.”
“How do you know about this if it happened so long ago?” Galliard asked, blinking up at him. “Father was not one to talk of such things, especially to you.”
“Lady Lust has quite the loose lips once she is comfortable with you.” Wrath chuckled fondly at the thought of his former mentor. “She has stories to tell that are beyond your imagination.”
“She has been around for a very long time…” The little prince murmured. “It would be hard to live that long and not come across a thing or two.”
“She is also a formidable adversary.” Wrath noted, nodding to himself.“Even I would not be certain that I would win in a fight to the death against her.”
“Hopefully we never have to find out.”