A dozen onlookers watch as the clang of iron upon iron fills the air. Darting forward, I thrust at Dagen, who steps aside and pelts on the shoulder. Too obvious, you roll your shoulder when you are about to thrust. A smile sits on his bearded face, ragged and unwashed, his weathered skin wrinkled by his mirth. Taking my stance once more, I launch another attack, this one parried, and our sparring continues. Every strike I make is blocked, every block I place is broken through. Bruises and welts form all over my chest and arms, while Dagen stands before untouched. Soon, I'm panting for air, my iron sword in the dirt, while he stands, relaxed and smiling without even a sweat.
How... How do.. I manage a few words between pants.
I can read you because you have no guile. You're a smart bastard, but that just makes it easier to know what you're going to do. Patting on the back, he tries to reassure . I can see that you're trying to add in feints, but they're too obvious, no blood thirst, no intent to actually strike. It makes it easy to spot. The trick is to at all tis be ready to turn an attack into a feint, and a feint into an attack.
It's amazing how so many words can an absolutely nothing.
As soon as I catch my breath, we begin sparring once more, this ti with spears. Despite his gruff, almost wild appearance, Dagen is a good man, and a good sparring partner. I've been sparring with everyone I can, having gotten tired of letting Sumila beat the crap out of . Nobody laughs at getting trounced by a cute, button nosed, freckled girl, but I still feel humiliated. Plus she always looks so happy when sparring with , no sympathy at all.
An errant swing leaves open, and Dagen sweeps my legs out from under . You can't be doing that in battle, taking wild swings like that. You won't only have one enemy, war is no duel. His hand extended, Dagen helps up, his beard and hair ssy and wild, but not from the sparring. He arrived like that, with his long, arched eyebrows giving him a sinister look. If soone hadn't told the man was a Sentinel, I could easily mistake him for a bandit, or worse. He looks every bit a villain, through and through, like a wild, wide eyed murderer. It's very jarring from how he acts, almost comical. We continue to trade blows, sweat dripping down my brow beneath my full-faced helt.
I was given so armor supplied by the Imperial Armory. Gearing up on the Imperial di is one of the perks Akanai received along with her promotion. The outfits are pretty fancy for sothing ant to fight in. A gray silk long shirt, with a lallar breastplate and skirt over top, It's essentially little tal plates sewn onto leather, but it feels nice and sturdy, a safe, weighty outfit. Everyone looks ridiculous in them, like they're wearing shirts that are a few sizes too big, but if it helps keep alive, I'm going to wear it. It cos complete with bracers, shinguard, boots and helt, and is a giant pain to put on and take off, requiring aid. It's no fun helping Huushal get dressed in the morning, and less fun having him help . I bet Fung has pretty servants helping him.
Not only did I also get to stock up on dicinal herbs, but I also received weapons, an iron long-spear and shield. No more breaking my weapons with a single strike hopefully, although the iron shields lack the little holsters for a short spear. Everything is great, but heavy and difficult to get used to, so I've been sparring in full armor to acclimate to it. It's more draining than I imagined, and we soon take another break. Grinning evilly as I pant, Dagen brings out his spiritual weapon, a long-handled, spiked war hamr, looking like a regular hamr on steroids.
No, no, I don't want to fight with Spiritual Weapons. My sword is too tiny. It's not fair.
Swinging it about like a staff, he laughs wickedly. Your enemies won't care what you want, Sentinel. I'll be kind and wait for you to draw your weapon though, as long as you do it within five heartbeats. Our previously silent audience begins to chat, chuckling at my plight and making bets.
Fuck. Giving with everything I have, I put my practice at Lightening to use. Circulating my chi with a thought, I allow it to fill , to buoy up, lessening my weight. Speeding up, I move to attack, my sword chiming whenever it cos into contact with Dagens hamr, the reverberations moving up my arm and throughout my body. We continue our furious exchange, Dagen landing several light hits on , using only the shaft of his weapon, deliberately avoiding the use of the hamrhead. After a few more strikes, my body can't handle it anymore, and I rip my helt off, throwing up into the grass.
Ever since the story of how Ghurda made throw up spread around, all my sparring partners seem to have taken it as a goal. The onlookers cheer and groan as coins change hands, the result of gambling on how many hits it would take before I yakked. Travel gets boring, and soldiers tend to be a gambling bunch. A cup of water is in Dagen's hand when I stand back up, urging to drink. You did good lad, cost a few Sentinels a good amount of coin, you did. Contrary to how he looks, Dagen is a big softy, very kind to everyone. You're a natural at Resonance. Well shit. More things I'm doing without knowing about it.
What's Resonance? Shaking his head, he ignores my question, motioning to move on.
It's my turn, little Rain. Move aside. Adujan approaches with her weapon in hand and hip checks lightly with a small mocking smile, before bowing slightly to Dagen. Shes gotten much saucier, swaying her hips when she walks. She didn't used to do that, she used to stomp around, but now, she sashays. It's very noticeable with her hips swaying side to side, and rather alluring. If it wasn't for her prickly attitude, I'm sure she'd have as many suitors as Sumila. Big Huu and Little Rain, neither of us like our nickna, especially the way she says it. I tried to direct Fung towards her, hoping to use him as a barrier for the incessant mocking, but he didn't bite. Not yet at least, because he looked mighty interested. She seed pretty interested in him as well, and I'd like to see them together. I think they make a good match, the orphan and the prince. A real Cinderella story.
So far, the travel itself isnt bad, with only a few hours of scouting that require my attention. The rest of my ti is spent practicing my chi, Lightening myself while I sit fully ard and armored atop Zabu. I can tell when it isn't working because Zabu will turn to look at , judging for being so heavy. I'm not fat, just big boned. Seriously.
There isnt actually any change in mass, because that would be impossible. Directing my chi, I have it push up and lift myself, thereby reducing the downward force gravity exerts upon . It's like filling myself with helium, or at least that's how I picture it. Its how everyone leaps around on the treetops, but it takes a large amount of concentration, and my chi rapidly depletes after a few minutes at max. The key is short bursts of Lightening, at the proper tis. I find that way too complicated, so instead Im going for slow and steady. No need to make myself weightless, just a small enough boost that Zabu doesnt mind all the extra weight from my gear, or so I can move just a tiny bit faster.
Enough rest. Co. Tanaraq taps on the head with the flat of her sword. Put your helt on. Sparring isnt the sa as warfare, but any practice is better than nothing. With a deep breath, I grimly face Tanaraq for more punishnt.
The night is dark by the ti we all finish sparring, Huushal limping back to our tent with . He groans as he lays down on his bedroll beside . By the Mother, how do they all manage to hurt us so much, especially through our armor?
I think it has to do with vibrations. My back to him, we chat quietly. Elder Bolin did the sa I think, sending chi through his attacks, jarring our inner organs. This is just another version of it.
He laughs. Thats not a very good explanation.
My shoulders shrug, even knowing he cant see . If I knew how, I wouldnt be in as much pain as you are.
Bah. Useless. Hes quiet for a mont before he speaks again. I do not an to nag, but as your friend, I feel I must speak. You should rethink your stance on i Lin. She truly loves you. It is sothing you should cherish. I make no judgnt, only offer my thoughts. If soone loved as she loves you, I would never leave her side.
Ah, not you as well. Gim a break. I love the girl to bits, but like a little sister. I don't see how hard that is to understand.
You say that often, but you don't see the way you look at her, Rain. The two of you were impossible to separate this past month.
Well.. He's not wrong about that. I may have overindulged the little brat, but she was so sweet and vulnerable, it's difficult to say no to her. Plus, she sohow manages to sll clean all the ti, like a cool spring breeze. I was just indulging her. She's so adorable, and riding with makes her so happy. I would do anything to have her be happy, Huu, she's family.
That is the problem, Rain. You indulge her. You should take a stand, and either refuse her, or accept her wholly. It is a cruel thing to lead her on if you've no intentions of marriage. I still think you should marry her though, a man could do far worse than marry a woman so in love.
Tch. I can't argue with him if he's right. I should man up, and just tell her no. A firm no. No more sharing the saddle, no more sleeping next to her, no more rubbing her back when she asks. I can't keep letting her think she has a chance, not when I know she doesn't. She needs to stop chasing , and I have to be the one to make her. In a stern, but loving letter. No, that's a terrible idea. I understand. Thank you for speaking up, Huu. I can't just let him win like this though. You should do sothing about Sumila as well. You can't just keep pining away for her, a man should take action.
What? I hear him shift around, turning to face my back. How did you know? Did my Pa tell you?
Fuck. It'd be rude not to turn around, but it feels... juvenile. Whispering in the dark, face to face, sharing about relationships and whatnot. I regret bringing this up. Sighing internally, I turn over to face him, moving back a bit when I realize he's closer than I thought. His wolfish yellow eyes almost glow in the dark. No one told . You stare so much it's a wonder your eyes are still attached. At least it's dark enough that I can't really see the rest of him.
Do you... Do you think she knows?
She'd be blind and dumb if she didn't. You should court her. Bring her flowers, complint her looks and actions, speak to her more. Just staring makes you creepy. Poor guy has zero ga. His go-to move is drooling as she walks by, the big doofus, and Adujan seems to have moved on from him. She's a lovely young woman, and other n will not wait idly by while you yearn for her in silence.
He sighed loudly. It is useless. She has no feelings for , this I know. God dammit. He sounds like a lost little puppy.
Well, then maybe you should focus on your fans. Plenty of the won have been eyeing you lately, especially with all the stories we've been telling.
Really? Like who? What have they said about ?
Big Huu has twin sisters fawning over him, and he doesn't even notice. Damned Mr. Popular, pining after Sumila,who would probably be receptive to him anyways.
I wonder if I can just throw a sleeping pill down his throat without him noticing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moving through the dark mountain forest, my eyes are peeled as I peer through the gloom, watching for any sign of ambush or traps. We used that card often enough against the Society, so I'm understandably paranoid. So far, after 11 days of travel from Shen Huo, everything has been uneventful, just the way I like it. That was all out on the open plains however, and the last stretch of our journey moves through heavily wooded and uneven terrain, except for the main path. Barely more than a dirt road, the soldiers march along shoulder to shoulder, four in a row, their footsteps almost shaking the ground. Surrounded by trees and rocky outcroppings, every twist and turn holds a potential ambush, and it's the Sentinels' jobs to scout them out. That ans I get to ride ahead of all the professional soldiers, exactly where I do not want to be.
Sumila leads the five of us, moving as a unit, covering ground and making sure no surprises lay in wait. The earthy scent of dirt and trees filling my nose, while beads of sweat form to ward off the warm sumr air as I ride about in my ridiculously stuffy armor. It's like a goddamn oven in here, my enclosed helt causing the sound of my breath to echo in my ears. Sumila motions to stop and we all pause, each of us straining our ears and eyes for whatever caught her attention. Moving slowly, we ride through a break in the trees, the sunlight gleaming down on the ruined remains of a small hamlet. Maybe 30 shacks, lined up together in ruins, the pitiful remains of a bamboo fence surrounding the entire space, it did the inhabitants no good in fending off their attackers.
Sumila signals for us to scout out the shacks, splitting up the party. For once, I'm thankful for my helt, because it hides my tears as I walk under the swaying corpses of the forr inhabitants, their rotting flesh hanging from crow-picked bones, their bodies tied to posts and used for sport. The sour rotting stink of the hamlet makes gag, wondering why we hadn't slled it earlier, a cesspool of filth and decay. More dead are strewn about in a haphazard manner, the forr residents killed as they tried to escape from the slaughter grounds that they had once called their ho. Heads were taken from many of the bodies and nailed onto a crossbeam within the central grounds, the sun-dried faces contorted in various expressions of death. Fire pits and pots hold remains as well, bones broken open, the marrow sucked out for sustenance. Fucking Sadists and Cannibals, I should kill every last one of them. I just need to be stronger to do it.
Dismounting from Zabu, I make my way to the closest hut, bracing myself for what I may find. The door opens easily with a small creak, and I look upon the grisly scene left behind, the ground a canvas of blood and flesh. Far worse than anything I could have imagined, a tiny voice sobs in terror, while a second, more distant voice in my head begins screaming angrily for vengeance. Tiny broken bodies litter the shack, shattered and left on display, nailed into the floor in macabre poses, leaving little doubt as to whether they suffered before sweet death claid them. Their childish dead faces are twisted in a grimace of pain and suffering, even after so many days of rot, with what the unmistakable marks of human teeth marring the flesh.
Fifteen. Fifteen tiny heads, each barely larger than my two fists, which hang clenched at my sides, blood seeping through my nails. Shaking uncontrollably, whether from rage or despair I cannot tell, I step into the room, moving carefully through the milieu of sickening practices, praying that whoever did this is still here, for if I find them, I will make them pay dearly for this. I will make him regret crossing paths with .
My walk through complete, I light a torch and set fire to the hut, destroying this unholy display is all that I can do for the dead for now. Moving on, I continue to light huts on fire, unable to bring myself to search them.
I once believed that no one deserved to be tortured, to feel pain and suffer like I did.
I was wrong.
The Defiled deserve worse.
Reviews
All reviews (0)