The Fall Of The Tribes

by Philip Read

  I know immediately that there is a line of blood on my forearms where his blade touched my skin, it shouldn’t be there, not with these weapons but I’m not worried. The cut is more from my unfamiliarity with this weapon than with his superior skill.

  Even as he moves forward to body rush me flaring his aura so as to have greater power the bottom of my foot connects to his shin stopping his advance as my head connects to with his chin in a grazing strike for he moves out of the full strike, he’s fast. I move sideways from almost completely horizontal in a move that uses lower leg muscles not regularly used in everyday life as my strike comes at his side even as my other hand slaps the flat of his blade from cutting into my ribs, my hand braking in a loud slapping sound and my own strike only grazing him before being deflected away.

  The next instant there is a meter of space between us as we face off, our weapons at the ready. Not even 20 seconds into the fight and we are already both bleeding but I also have a broken left hand so points to him. Our audience is beside themselves with exclamation but the trainers and some of the more skilled guests are watching everything attentively.

  I can hear my zanpakutō humming in its position against the wall were the personal weapons are kept. I smile as I feel how happy it is for me that I’m having some fun for a change, anything that involves fighting is fun for that monster of mine. Volvox’s frown deepens and his eyes squint suspiciously.

  “Are you ready?” I ask as we circle each other. Blade held up at shoulder level in my right-hand point facing my opponent centre of gravity kept low with a slight squat.

  “Do your worst.” He says throwing a quick combination of strikes left right, left right, right right left right whilst moving forward with his momentum gaining ground.

  I give ground as I parry right left, right left, left left right left single-handedly. Moving back to give myself the extra room since I have the longer more cumbersome weapon not ideal for very close quarters fighting. The ringing of steel on steel drowning out every other sound as we move back and forth around the mats. Wrist movement, shoulder movement and footwork keeping me from getting cut, experience helping me keep up with his speed. A kick to the chest out of nowhere sends me to stumble back but also gaining me the space I needed to really use my unique school of kenjutsu, a style Kazimoto and I decided to call akurobatto.

  I’m up and down and all over the place as I use my long reach and twisting jumps to keep him at bay at keep him guessing. My strikes coming from any number of directions including my legs which deflect some of his strikes on the grieves, now he knows why i put those on. I didn’t use any of these acrobatic moves while we were fighting unarmed for this very purpose, so they would be a surprise when I used them in kenjutsu. He deflects a sword cut and my shin guard blocks his other strike even as my other grieve protected shin connects with his hip hard. Causing him to retreat with an immediate limp from the strike, I’m grinning like a cheshire cat and he doesn’t like it one bit.

  Our next series of exchanges are more protracted as we are both a lot more careful around each other but my styles isn’t designed to conserve energy, making it a very bad style to use in a long fight. I take a few risks and get another cut on the forearm but I deliver a spinning kick to the face that stuns him a moment.

  “You little shit.” He says whipping away the blood and immediately coming at me with a full awakening of his aura.

  A seemingly purple plasma swaying on top of his skin like a fire in the wind. His strike completely honed as a blade sheathed in aura comes at my face faster than is possible to defend.

  Yet the strike never connects as a moment later an amplified ringing sound of a blade that has broken the sound barrier grates on all who are hearing the sound for the first time. Some of the masters grin though, others frown, some the twitching of an eyelid the only sign of surprise as they feel for the first time outside of the battlefield, true unbridled battle-lust as if its a force of gravity pulling them to the ground.

  My spiritual pressure billowing in a soundless roar like the Congo Water Falls in the middle of flooding season. The spiritual pressure of a Barbarian warrior, a before unheard of type of pressure as anyone who cultivated such high spirit energy has always become a Seer instead of a true warrior.

  It isn’t with only condensing my chakra visualization has helped me with but the breaking through a barrier in my spirit being and managing to harness spiritual energy like the soul-samurai do. Instead of just buffing myself and affecting those around me I affect the world itself, for a split second changing the constitution of the blade as it cuts through the air at speeds faster than the travelling of sound through a wave.

  I have learnt from the growing library at Paradisum, from Carmella the sidhe fae who has taken an interest in Mira and I and who instructs my visualization instructor Gorr, and from my own experiences to harness spirit energy into an almost tangible tool. It deals more with the spiritual and psychic side of the body, the other side of the coin to the physicality of flesh that aura energy provides and it’s severely underutilised.

  Spiritual pressure is like aura but only worse because it deals with parts not easy to defend or even understand are injured, let alone are under attack. And my pressure is a domain of overeager parched bloodlust that thirsts for the rivers of blood provided by battle. It saps at confidence, it saps at will. It eventually saps at fighting ability and the will to live of a person, making them accepting of their death at my hands. Eager for it even as it will be the highlight of the acclamation of their lives. The perfect ending, being added in the annals of my story immortalized as one of my worthy opponents by the world, by history.

  Aura honed sword meets spirit influenced domain again as Volvox swings again not understanding how I managed to stop his first blow while he’s fully powered by aura. Fourteen more blows follow in quick succession of concussive pops of displaced air an instant later than the next strike is started as our exchange takes place at speeds that break the sound barrier repeatedly.

  His trump card didn’t work and for the first time in this match, he’s worried that he might not win this match. Our exchanges are titanic to the extent that even my own eyes can’t keep up with what we are doing, using battle sense and sixth sense for asserting where I need to move next and how.

  I jump and follow through with sweeping slashes that come from six different directions at him before my feet touch the ground again. He deflects all as I land with my right foot hopping lightly up and over diagonally slightly out of his reach while keeping his one arm busy and outside the other’s reach.

  The fight continues for I don’t know how long but my stamina is starting to flag and he isn’t, not with his aura still buffing him as it is. But I know that it takes a different type of toll on you to hold your aura at this level. My practice weapon is chipped, cracked, with pieces sheared off and the stabbing point is already gone. Two weapons of the same type of material and workmanship clashing at each other for this long one of them has to give, and its usually the one that isn’t sheathed in the destructive aura.

  Even as I think that my blade practically shatters into three pieces and I duck under his follow up and pull my head back even as the tip of his blade splits hairs by my face.

  “Time!” Instructor Reagan says immediately between us blocking Volvox’s next strike with his staff.

  I take a few steps back but keeping an eye on him and his cousins, my pressure still maintaining influence all around me as much as I can. It’s a relatively new skill still and seems to have only marginally worked on my opponent.

  “That’s the end of the match, well-done everyone. You are all dismissed to your bunks and the combatants are free to do as they please the rest of the day. Dismissed!” he says loudly breaking my influence with a burst of his own spiritual pressure.

  The entire room takes a breath of relief and Volvox’s aura spatters out as he glares at me dangerously. I look back at him without giving anything away, you want me? Come to get m
e, I’m a Barbarian, ever ready to fight to the death, are you?

  He looks away first and I walk towards my friends.

  Ava snorts at my arrival, “not bad but don’t think your suddenly cool all of a sudden. I could still kick your ass.”

  “You wish,” I say sighing as they gather around me and I start safely limping and showing some of my injuries.

  “The guy was tough.” I’m says sagely lightly supporting me as Teà pulls the healer towards our hardled group.

  “You’ve been holding out on us, what the bloody gates was that pressure you exerted?” Asger asks conflicted between wanting to praise me and feeling peeved that I didn’t go all out on our spars.

  “Oh come now Asger I know you’ve also been holding back during our sparring sessions.” Teà says as she shoves the healer student lightly towards me. He frowns at her before checking on my injuries, I know he won’t be able to do much. Not at his level of expertise again aura inflicted injuries but he manages to stop the bleeding.

  “Yea but I have certain combinations of moves I’m keeping hidden away, not an entire level of power.”

  I tune them out as I replay the fight as best I can in my mind. Trying to see how everything went down, visualization has many uses, and learning is one of them. I’m disturbed by the loud voice of Master Reagan in my head, both you and Volvox come see me in an hour.

  Chapter 48

  Aaron

  I poke a hole through the door and slide my hand inside to unclasp the latch. I’ve never been one to skirt away from getting my hands dirty doing the seemingly ordinary tasks of roughing up a few people to get the answers I seek but this is low even for me. I’ve been reduced to petty burglary to steal an orb from a wizard of the nether realms.

  “Ouvrir,” I say to the door putting every once of will I have behind the spell taking no chances against this opponent.

  “Des sorts clairs.”

  “Rèvèle la magie.”

  “Pièges claims.”

  “Les esprits dorment.”

  I cast spell after spell even before the door fully opens so no surprises come barking at me unaware. This is more a snatch and grab type of situation that one with any reasonable expectation of stealth anyway, no one enters a wizards domain without them knowing it even if they are a world away.

  I walk gingerly into the tower pulling my mana around myself and casting a mana/spirit spherical shield around myself with a thought. I would be lying if I said running around killing the enemies my son has left in his wake and dealing with all the other messes I could find hasn’t been good for the growth of my repertoire.

  Consorting with spirits has given me a foothold in an avenue of magic I had so for disregarded in my single-minded pursuit of the wizard arts. But this spirit magic called sorcery has many uses and doesn’t actually need a contract with a spirit for me to be able to tap into it. Simply harnessing the energy of the realm or plane or wherever it is that spirits reside is enough to be able to manipulate the spirit energy onto this realm as a kind of replacement to ether.

  Which explains how some people can use sorcery without first Awakening to mana. I use no other spells or casting in the foyer of the tower but cast my eyes around the simply decorated but homey feel of the surroundings. Its rare for a wizard of Castro’s age and power to have a tower this well used and clearly loved. Buy those that do don’t take kindly to intrusions of any kind.

  I walk deeper into the receiving foyer and am surprised to meet a young woman bowing before me before standing to face me. I came here now because I had to make sure that Castro wasn’t around first, I spent a good 30 minutes disarming the outside wards so I could have more time to search the place. I had everything planned out to a ”T’ except the possibility that he may have a servant or a daughter…? Yes, a daughter present in the tower.

  “How may I help you, sir?” She says smoothly but I can see the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead.

  “I am looking for a black orb that shines with darkness and makes any that come near it I’ll. Might you know what it is I speak of?” I ask trying my chances if the girl sent out a communication or distress signal to her father I have much less time to mundanely look around for that which I seek.

  “Right this way sir.” She says and starts leading me around the place up a set of stairs through a corridor and down another set of stairs.

  “I believe what you seek is in there.” She says then steps back. I’ve been questing me is senses for traps this entire time and I do so at the wood door before me.

  There are words and traps all over this door, and its new impregnable in the time I have without resorting to extreme force and that may not even succeed either.

  “Any way you know to open this without exerting myself”

  “No sir but I suspect it would be easier to use the key.” She says producing a key from her special ring.

  “A key, of course, how quaint.”

  After finding the orb also known as the ‘Eye of Darkness’ or ‘Stealer of Souls’ by the more superstitious type in Castro’s study in a protective warded case and got out of there as quickly as humanly possible. At the exit, I’m accosted by the girl blocking my way and I slow as I prepare to end her quickly.

  “Take me with you, sir, please.” She says and I notice the desperation in her voice.

  I notice the scare that could have been easily healed by Castro but still evident and ragged on her face. I notice the slight scent of blood and the colour on her neck preventing her from leaving. She may be his daughter but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other uses for her.

  “Sorry love but I don’t have time for another charity case at the moment but I could give you a quick death if you want.”

  She starts sobbing and shaking, I have no time for this and this psycho might be back at any moment.

  “Here, use this on yourself or on him,” I say placing an ornate jewel-crusted dagger on the table. “He probably won’t die unless you take him in the eye or the heart but a single scratch will be enough for you,” I say as I start to go around her.

  “I… can’t,…. harm myself..” She says between sobs as she stops at the threshold of the door. More a prisoner than most, I’ve paid her back enough for the key I think.

  “Don’t worry about compulsion with that dagger, you should be fine. And with that, I run casting ‘fleet foot’ travelling at a surprisingly fast pace through the vent.

  *

  Joseph

  The unbinding is torturous and I take back every nice thing I’ve ever thought about these people for their refraining from torturing me before. I’m strapped down on a stone altar of some sort inside a cave deep underground. The is barely any light to see by and these fucking mages turned out to be blue-skinned red-eyed vampires. I nearly pissed myself then and there sure I was to be used for some sort of sinister experiment or as a blood skin and drank till dry.

  The place was creepy enough as is but the presence of a dead body belonging to Anies already lying on an adjacent altar had me digging my heels into the ground trying to stop my jailers from is sending me there. I didn’t even know they had the little spy Assad had as our guide but apparently I don’t know as much as I think about what is going on.

  I’m strapped down despite my protests and biting, then a very uncomfortable bridle is inserted into my mouth to prevent the biting and spitting I assume. I’m almost immediately proven wrong, its to reduce the sound of my screaming as thing are done to my insides without preamble.

  To the inside of my insides and I scream and scream and scream and buck as pain the likes of which there is no solace or refuge. No blissful release of unconsciousness, I do end up pissing myself, a lot of urine in fact as a number of my sphincters clench and release throughout the whole process.

  I don’t know how long it all takes but eventually, I’m a sweating mess on the altar and a familiar face steps into my line of sight. The relief I feel at seeing Brother Asriel is beyond expression and before
he even asks a question I start to tell him everything I know and everything I’ve ever done wrong. I relieve myself off all my burdens and all the shit I’ve done in my life because I can feel that the oaths binding me have unravelled, but they aren’t gone, even now they are working to reestablish themselves but I take this opportunity to tell Asriel everything I know about the Circle, about the 25 members of the Inner Circle and 25 members of the other Circle that I know of.

  About the rituals, the kings we have in our control through blackmail, mind control or the promise of power. The member of the Order who took up the position I killed to create a vacancy in, our mission at the monastery all those years ago. I tell everything I can even think of, names, dates, weapons, caches of things, safe houses. But then a cup of water is passed to me and then darkness takes me into oblivion.

  * *

  Asriel

  “Well, that was more than I burgeoned for.”

  “But it would explain so much,” Yami says in thought.

  “This information seems to affect more than just your Order but the entirety of life of Gaia.” Forester Watanabe says, cooly.

  “It does and I think its time I mentioned that we aren’t here in the name of the Order but we are here in the name of another group and we call ourselves the Conclave. The time for secrecy amongst allies is at an end I think.”

  Forester looks at me intently before nodding and waving his hand at the empty wall, but the wall turns out not to be so empty as a Hito person I can’t seem to sense at all walks out of it. I frown and activate spacial awareness, nothing. I activate examine and still get nothing even as I look at the man, he is as solid as I am. I activate battle sense and it’s only then that I can feel him but only slightly, what the fuck is this guy?

  “Allow me to introduce Hirohito Shushi the third Ronin. He is aware of the Conclave and has made us aware of the looming threat this one speaks of.” He says indicating to the now unconscious Joseph Malagan on the enchanted stone slab.