Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power

by C. P. D. Harris

  Chapter Forty-Five: Storm Rider

  1146/09/09 AR, Frostbay, Fourth Round of the Frostbay Green Faction Open. (Ranking Matches are delayed until after tournaments)

  “For my money, nothing beats watching an elementalist in action. Fire, lightning, and sometimes even a full blown Maelstrom. Like the best fireworks you've ever seen.” Anonymous fan.

  “Honoured Gladiator, your last fight was truly spectacular. The brain-burster is an awesome finisher. You should use it more often.” Excerpt from a note attached to a Patron gift for Lionfang.

  “It was a good fight Ravius,” said Omodo.

  “Bah, it's never fair for a Skirmisher to come up against someone he trains with,” said Ravius. “It's just too hard to trick a man who knows you that well.”

  Ravius had drawn Omodo as his fourth round opponent and lost. Gavin felt like pointing out to Ravius that familiarity worked both ways, giving him greater insight into Omodo's weaknesses. He kept quiet though, now was no time to be contrary; it would be like rubbing dirt in the wound. If Gavin won his next match he would be facing the Armodon in the final.

  “I suppose I'll be fighting Thunder Blossom, then,” said Gavin. He was looking forward to the match, in truth. Thunder Blossom was a noted spell-caster, versed in elemental and Druidic magics; what better way to test his new found confidence in his magical abilities? “It will be an interesting match.”

  “I'd rather get blasted by lightning than pounded flat by a giant hammer...” said Ravius. “I feel like a pancake!”

  “You've had worse,” said Gavin, speaking before Omodo could apologize again. “A wise friend told me that time is too precious to spend too much of it feeling sorry for yourself. No amount of regret will make you feel better about losing. It is best to think of the opportunities that you still have...” He arm swept out, as if to unveil the training grounds and the city beyond.

  Ravius' eyes latched onto Headtaker, moving through an axe kata, flowing and powerful.

  “Point taken, little brother,” he said, standing smoothly. “Best not waste time...!”

  “Who told you that?” asked Omodo as they watched Ravius swagger over to the axewoman.

  “He did,” said Gavin, watching with envy as Ravius engaged Headtaker, bringing a smile in moments. “Convincing me to go to the party at the Old Mill where I met Sadira... Odd to think how that one little event led to so many changes in my life.”

  “As when a tiny pebble, thrown into the sea, causes ripples, so too the events of our lives...” said Omodo. Gavin nodded sagely as they both grinned.

  o-----

  Thunder Blossom was physically unimpressive for a Gladiatrix. Medium armour overlaid in shimmering lightning bolts covered the Orcish woman's lean frame, and her hands gripped a long bladed bastard sword. She tested the balance of the weapon, watching Gavin as he entered the fighting grounds. From the way she moved he could tell that she would be equally adept using the blade in one hand or two. He was more curious about how good she was with the buckler she wore; he knew that Thunder Blossom had earned some renown for her spectacular spell-casting but he knew little of her defensive capabilities.

  He nodded to her. She nodded back, tersely. He sensed tension in her and wondered if she was nervous, as daunted by him as he was by her.

  “I look forward to this fight, honoured Gladiatrix,” he said, offering a small bow. “Your skill with magic is well spoken of.”

  “You will see it for yourself, soon enough,” she responded. Her tone was distracted. He wondered if her mind was on something other than the coming fight. He noted that she did not offer him an honorific, or the bow.

  No further banter was offered. The trumpet song rang out and the crowd began to shout and cheer in earnest. As soon as the Gladiators gained full access to their magic Gavin could feel Thunder Blossom began to draw power. He was impressed, Karmal and Sadira were among the strongest channellers he had encountered, other than The Chosen. Thunder Blossom dwarfed either of them. He sprinted forward, hoping to get close and force her to spend some effort on defending herself. He sent out a mental blast as he did so but she shrugged it off.

  Her weave came together and power poured into it. He felt the hairs on his arms stand up. He read the weave and realized that she was conjuring, not evoking, and thus he would not be able to unweave her spell in time. Conjured effects were easier to defend against physically though, and so he threw himself to the side.

  A pillar of electricity erupted from the ground, shooting skyward. It blazed upwards, hitting the ceiling of the ward barrier. The energy mushroomed and then dissipated in a scintillating flash, accompanied by a deafening boom. Despite his desperate dodge was still raked by tendrils of energy, which sent electric agony through him. He convulsed.

  The crowd, impressed by the fearful show of power, screamed and cheered.

  Gavin fought to regain control of his muscles and then willed himself to his feet.

  Thunder Blossom saw this as a chance for a quick finish. She had seen Gavin casting spells on the training grounds, showing his cunning skills with the weaves. He was not nearly as powerful as her in channelling, but if she was forced to use magic with which he could interfere with she would be trouble. “Best to end him now,” she thought. “Conjuration is only a serious option at a distance.”

  Gavin gathered himself and sprang up as Thunder Blossom wove a spell. Realizing he was going to take the brunt of another attack before he could close, he executed a quick weave and threw his spear as he dove to the side again. Long lances of ice punctured the sands all around him. He guessed that the massive amount of power his opponent was channelling was enough to obfuscate his intent.

  Triumph surged through Thunder Blossom as she saw one of her ice lances slice through Gavin. She did not see his spear. Its impact drover her to her knees. She looked down; the vicious, ugly blade of his weapon was lodged in her abdomen, blood seeping from the wound. Five feet of metal haft dragged on the blade. She could feel the barbs tearing at her. She cursed herself as fool for not seeing the weapon as it arced through the air, for not realizing that Gavin had hidden it from her with a subtly woven image spell, a trick that would have been self-defeating had her use of power not hidden his.

  Gavin, his flesh torn from a dozen cuts, his shield arm numb from the impact of the ice spears, pushed himself to his feet. He drew his short sword, hacking the lance of ice that had pierced his shield arm. Thunder Blossom put a hand on the haft with Gavin's spear, holding it to keep it from swaying as she wove her next spell. Gavin stood expecting to get blown off his feet at any moment. He read the shock in Thunder Blossom's eyes as he turned to her. He saw why; his spear had struck true; a flawless throw.

  The crowd watched with rapt attention, riveted by the spectacle of two fighters so bloody and battered, yet still standing.

  Gavin staggered towards his opponent. He roared, picking up speed.

  Thunder Blossom realized she did not have time for a conjuration. She wove a Razorwind spell. Gavin countered it as the compressed air cut into him. He staggered as tiny cuts appeared all over his right side. A jet of flame followed, but Gavin threw himself out of the way. He was too close now. With an effort of will that terrified her Thunder Blossom set herself and met Lionfang head on, trying to hold him back as she brought the fury of the elements down upon him.

  With his spear still in her side, weighing her down, Gavin was at a distinct advantage. Thunder Blossom managed to parry his first attack, but with a second sword thrust, he left a deep cut on her arm. She threw him back a step with a burst of hurricane wind. Gavin concentrated on countering her spells. She kept weaving. Spells of frost, flame, and lightning died in the air looking like tiny elemental explosions as he unravelled the patterns giving them life. She howled in rage, swinging her sword again, drawing on the emotions of the roaring crowd to further power her spells. She wove a frost nova and a lightning bolt, but Gavin countered them all. Her spells were pulled apart around her.

&n
bsp; In frustration Thunder Blossom called upon a spell that she knew he could not counter: a mighty conjuration of flame that would engulf them both. The spell had just begun to manifest when Gavin stepped around her defence, grasping the haft of the spear still inside her. He twisted savagely. Thunder Blossom gasped for air, but her lungs ceased to obey her. She grabbed onto his sword arm, trying to haul him close for one last swipe. Her sword bounced off his pauldron. Then blackness came and Thunder Blossom tasted defeat for the first time in many years. Gavin felt the strength ebb from her and the power of the maelstrom fade. Gently, he lowered Thunder Blossom to the ground gently. He had essentially won the fight on a single cast of his spear, cleverly hidden from his opponent. Was it luck or skill, or both? He took a moment to compose himself, bleeding from his wounds and drunk from all the power he had channelled. Then he raised his sword to salute the crowd.

  And he heard them answer, shouting “LIONFANG! LIONFANG!”, and for the first time he, like Sadira, knew the true elation that their adulation could bring.

  Chapter Forty-Six: Clash with a Titan

  1146/09/012 AR, Frostbay, Fourth Round of the Frostbay Green Faction Open. (Ranking Matches are delayed until after tournaments)

  “No one wants to watch a fight between two good men.” Baron Bones, Death-Leagues announcer.

  “Good friendships are a solid foundation for a happy life,” Omodo's Journal

  “For those of you who have not seen her fight, Red Scorpion is loud and energetic,” said Ravius, drawing nods from the Gladiators gathered around them. Sadira, of course, grinned proudly. “It is the same in everything she does.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes.

  Omodo and Cleothera exchanged grins.

  “And these two had the top floor of the cottage,” continued Ravius. “Every night they had go at it, it was like a bloody earthquake. Boom, boom, boom. Yes, yes, yes. Lack of sleep made our former friend, Karmal, Crimson Dragon I should say, permanently angry. Omodo slept in one day and missed the escort to Scorpion's Oasis.”

  “We broke three beds,” added Sadira with great pride. “Or was it four, beloved?”

  “Four sounds right,” Gavin, who was always embarrassed and quietly amused to be involved in Sadira's bragging about her sexual prowess, imagined that he felt more than a few glances, envious and appraising, directed at him.

  “For some reason, many of my Patron gifts include things like beds, body jewelry, and lover's clothing,” said Sadira. She kept her tone matter-of-fact, but her eyes were full of wicked pride. “While it keeps Gavin and I entertained, I don't think that my more amorous admirers would approve.”

  “It could be that some of them are secretly helping Gavin,” said Headtaker, arms around Ravius's shoulder, dwarfing the smiling Skirmisher.

  “An interesting point,” said Sadira, bestowing an approving smile on the massive Gladiatrix.

  Most of the Greens, who hated Sadira from afar on principle, were surprised at how much they enjoyed her company. She treated them all with respect, despite being a competitor, and one in a superior position at that.

  “Speaking of point?” said Gavin, willing Ravius back to his chain of thought.

  “Yes, yes. Not only is she a... kinetic... lover, she's also versed in life magic,” said Ravius. “So with that vast arsenal of renewal spells they would go on for bloody hours on end. Every night and every morning, without fail. And that extra level of... personal conditioning is why our friend Gavin here is so tough, I wager.”

  “If that kind of logic held true Ravius, you would be faster than a Quickling, just from running your mouth...” said Cleothera.

  “He is fairly swift,” said Green Sting.

  “He takes his time where it matters,” said Headtaker.

  “I'll give him that,” said Cleothera. “He did have some excellent instructors after all...”

  The look the bright-eyed Grey-Robe shot Headtaker was pure invitation. The muscular Gladiatrix looked scandalized.

  “Don't leave me cold, girls,” said Ravius.

  “Like that will ever happen,” muttered Gavin. Laughter roared through the assembled Gladiators.

  Sadira surveyed the crowd, and then looked at Omodo. “One thing I am still curious about, after all these years, is our Armodon friend's love life,” said Sadira. “He's too gentlemanly by far to brag about his lovers, but I'd wager some of you Greens could satiate my curiosity...”

  The giant Armodon shrugged and laughed.

  o-----

  “I'm glad you could come,” said Gavin.

  “I know,” said Sadira. She ran her hand along his chest lazily, sending pulses of magic through him. “I can feel it emanating from you, like a warm glow. We've never really been apart since that night at Balvuk's Triumph.”

  “Maybe you can persuade Chosen Balvuk to let you rename it Sadira's Triumph,” said Gavin. He did not like to talk about their bond; it was still too strange to him. He did not indulge in it like Sadira did.

  “You don't seem excited about tomorrow,” said Sadira.

  “Should I be?” asked Gavin.

  She sent a pulse of irritation through the bond, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Of course you should be excited. Even now you are mystery to me sometimes Gavin. I know you don't care about winning the tournament, but what about the Challenge? Omodo is a worthy opponent; he is shaping up to be a true Champion.”

  “He has come a long way, for sure” said Gavin. “Honestly I find it hard to get worked up over fighting someone I practice with regularly.”

  “Fighting in front of the crowd is different,” said Sadira, a little indignantly; the arena was sacred to her. “A real match carries real consequences. You two should be more like me or Azure Dream. Competitors in the arena and friends on the training grounds. Rivalry builds greatness.”

  Gavin raised an eyebrow. He could bring up Karmal. Sadira rolled her eyes. Karmal was still a sore point with her at this time.

  “Do you think I can beat him?” asked Gavin.

  “Yes, of course you can,” said Sadira. “The real question is in the `will' not the can.”

  Gavin was about to ask her if she thought he had the `will' but he sensed her answer before he could voice his question.

  o-----

  Compared to the grand fighting grounds she most often graced in Brightsand Halls, Sadira found the Frostbay arena small and drab. The stands were packed with people, however, including more Armodons than she had ever seen in one place before. The distinct, not unpleasant, odour of their thick hide mingled with the smells of the peppered meats, spiced apples, and charred beer preferred by the locals. Her finely tuned sense of smell could also pick up perfumes, rare or cheap, sweat and excitement.

  “I think the couple two rows in front of us are doing more than spooning,” she said to Lina. They two of them sat out among the people, eschewing the privacy of a box or the company of the other Gladiators. She wanted to get a feel for the crowd.

  “How can you tell?” said Lina.

  “I can smell them from here,” said Sadira. She grinned at her vassal. Lina rolled her eyes. “Fingering I guess.”

  “I'm sorry I asked,” said Lina, turning up her nose. She consciously avoided sniffing the air, knowing that without magic her senses could not match Sadira's. “You have a one-dimensional mind, you know. What if they heard you?”

  Sadira laughed. She was delighted that Lina did not even think twice about talking down to her. Several people turned to look at the sound of her voice. She was wearing her arena garb and their eyes stayed on her, recognizing, desiring. She loved it.

  “Who cares if they hear me,” she said. “Aren't you tired of Giselle's palace Lina? Being surrounded by all that pomp and luxury gets old; the court doesn't offer half the enticements of real people...”

  Lina shrugged. Gladiators like Sadira were like a different species. Her mistress sat beside her in 'armour' that would almost pass for bedclothes in a brothel, yet she seemed utterly unphased by the leeri
ng looks some directed at her. Perhaps being powerful enough to crush the skulls of most men with one hand had something to do with Sadira's fearlessness.

  The trumpets sounded. Gavin's entrance opened and he strode out onto the field. Sadira leapt to her feet shouting “LIONFANG”. Lina joined her. Their shout carried and was picked up by the excited crowd.

  Sadira gazed down on her man. The mithril-silver of his lustrous lion-headed breastplate shone out from the fighting grounds. He looked good. Her advice on how to dress a little better and present himself to the crowd was slowly sinking in. He even smiled as he listened to crowd chant his name. She wondered if he could pick out her voice.

  The trumpets sounded again and Omodo jogged into the arena. The people began to cheer him and Sadira could feel her Armodon friend connect with the crowd. He was in his element now, far more confident than when he had parted from them at Camp Valorous. It would be interesting to cross weapons with him in the Championships.

  The two Gladiators bowed to each other, a show of deep respect. Sadira was a little disappointed that they did not engage in banter. Both of them were too gentlemanly in that respect. The trumpets rang out again, one of them a little off-key, and the fight began.

  Gavin took a defensive stance, shield forward; feet shoulder width apart, loose and ready to move out of the way in any direction if the massive Armodon charged. He held his spear loosely, in that deceptively uncommitted way of his, and Sadira could sense him weaving small spells that heightened his focus and enhanced his reactions.

  Omodo did not try to engage Gavin with magic; a wise move in Sadira's mind. Gavin was far too adept these days at unweaving any useful attack spells. Instead he cast a quickening spell of his own, lowered his horn and charging forward with almost no delay. A good, aggressive, opening move. The crowd roared its approval. Sadira felt flecks of drink and spittle strike her bare flesh. She loved being in a good crowd. She screamed her encouragement.