“Try this out,” he says, placing it into my hands. It’s heavier than I thought it’d be. “A relic I picked up decades ago. The spear of a Maven Knight.”
I practically smack my head, not realizing the obvious similarity to the metal of the weapon and armor. Thrilling heat rises in my chest. Abrax is giving me a weapon used by the Domain, and I feel the gravity of what I’ve been given.
Grasping it gently, I feel the chill of the cool steel. The bronze metal is etched with symbols and esoteric markings from those long dead. Some images have been carved into its hilt, but they seem incomplete and jumbled. Abrax notices my confusion, stands in front of me, and presses down upon a metallic symbol near the blade.
The steel bar expands with a snap, lengthening to its full size of two meters. I watch in awe. My open mouth forms a smile, and I realize how unique this weapon really is. Fully extended, the shaft details many carvings of stars, the moon, and fire. The shapes of the crystals are also etched into the metal. A theme of light in the darkness seems present.
I stand and feel the balance of the weapon. How my body moves with it, and how heavy it will be when I strike. I’m honored to receive such a gift, and I can feel Abrax growing on me a bit. The others watch me briefly in surprise, but continue their own work.
“Abrax, this is incredible.” I say, flourishing the spear delicately. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
The old man snorts, and I see him grin indistinctly under his beard. He nods his head and puffs out more smoke. “Carry it well, Sarina. For that weapon has more legendary heritage than you can possibly imagine. Just don’t cut yourself with it.”
As I make a few motions with the spear, I notice that he doesn’t leave—his eyes look disturbed. While I stand and get used to the weapon, I ask him, “Is something wrong?”
He shifts his weight upon the outcropping upon which we stand. The sage trench coattails are crumpled under his rear. “I’m curious about something.” Abrax says, leaning forward with his pipe still clenched in his teeth. “Aida told me about what happened you in Z’hart City. Can I ask, are you going to venture out alone to find answers when we get there?”
I stop my motions in shock, and I look back at him with befuddlement. What suddenly spurred this on? While I’ve been a little reclusive, I haven’t shown any such signs since we started our journey. Does he really think I’m that self-centered? I’m a little offended.
“Why exactly is it your concern if I do?” I retort, firing right back at him. “What brought this on all of a sudden?”
Abrax snorts with a bit of respect to my backtalk. I think he rather enjoys someone to verbally spar with him. He leans back somewhat. “I know it will be tempting for you to seek out what you’ve lost, Sarina. I wouldn’t entirely blame you if you did. But consider this: You’ll only find pain and anger if you find those answers. There might be a terrible cost to your story, and it may end up being too much for you to pay. Is it really worth it to find something like that?”
My hands clench around the cold metal, my knuckles turn white from the anger that presses into them. My lips form a thin line, and I can feel my nostrils flare.
“Of course it is!” I hiss, trying to control the amplification of my voice. I don’t want to draw the attention of the others.
“I don’t plan on abandoning anyone,” I continue, my anger expelling out like steam in a vent. “But I won’t let what happened to me go without justice! If I get a chance to piece together what happened that night, I’m going to take it. I don’t care what path it leads to! Abandoning the group has nothing to do with it!”
The old man watches me with serious apprehension imprinted upon his dark face. Dark eyes practically stare into my soul as if the Sage God himself watches me. “This is my warning to you, Sarina,” he says quietly. “Secrets always come at a cost.”
I turn away and say nothing to the old man. My anger buffets. What does he know? He hasn’t been drugged, assaulted, and shipped off like a common thug. He’ll never know how I feel, none of them will! The warning still rings in my head, and I hate hearing it. I will find the answers I seek, and they can’t stop me.
“I’m still keeping the spear even if I think you’re wrong.” I seethe softly.
He sniffs. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Chapter 18: Sarina
Crimsons
FIERY SUNLIGHT FADES in the sky as we approach the tail end of the winding ravines. In the morning, we’ll be free of the Flames and traversing within the nation of Z’hart. I’ll be that much closer to home. To answers.
Our camp is set up within the gorge, flanked by concave walls that can provide us shelter. Russet gravel coats the ground and dusty bushes dot the landscape. Stars begin to wink in the fading sunlight, and the sky is torn between fiery orange and blackened blue. We space ourselves out since there’s ample space. Upon finishing one final meal for the day, Abrax and Tálir wander off for their usual evening tutelage while the rest of us start preparing for rest. I sit next to the campfire with my new spear in hand, and I contemplate what Abrax told me about finding answers.
There might be a terrible darkness to your story, he had said. Every terrible story has this attribute, and most stories in life are going to be dark. But my goal is to overcome that darkness even as I feel it creeping within me. Around me. There’s a semblance of loneliness in feeling such pessimism. Like no one will ever understand or help.
That’s why it’s my duty to uncover the hidden details of my tale. No one else can do it. And I hate the fact that Abrax is trying to dissuade me from it. Ever since the convoy, I’ve felt like there’s a piece of me that’s been lost. Broken. Z’hart City is the only place where I might be able to piece myself back together. To feel whole once more. But the old man thinks that it’ll lead me down a dark path. I don’t care, because darkness will always be present no matter what I do.
The key is to find the light within that darkness.
A noise snaps me out of my musings. I hear the sound of movement scuttling across the rock walls around us. At first, I think it’s Abrax and Tálir returning from their tutelage—but the movements suggest that there’s more than two people. Soft pattering of boots echo into the ravine, and I can see trickles of dirt and rock falling into the gorge.
I remember the smoke columns earlier in the day. The shadows watching us during the trek. The stealthy trackers are moving closer.
Immediately a sense of alarm goes through me and I stand up suddenly, scanning the ravine. Sand and dirt under my boot crunches as I move and unholster my bowpistol. The spear is collapsed within my left hand, but ready to be drawn. Vivían too, is alerted to the sound but rises slowly and draws her energy bow with silent lethality. The azure energy hums as an arrow forms from the device.
“They’re already alerted to you; you know?” Devin voices softly. He stands easily and unsheathes his shortsword. Battle readiness is on his face.
“What do you mean?” I reply quietly with a tinge of anger. “We haven’t done anything—”
“He’s right, Sarina,” Vivían confirms as she pivots. “You weren’t exactly graceful in showing your alertness. They’re likely changing tactics as we speak.”
“Frag off!”
Almost imperceptibly, the others follow suite and retrieve their weapons even as the footsteps grow louder. The sound of movement is directed towards the rock wall on our right flank and everyone’s attention is diverted to the twenty-meter cliff-face. There’s barely enough light to see. The movement stops, and a moment of pause elapses as I aim my bowpistol for whatever is approaching.
But nothing happens, at least for a moment.
“GET DOWN!” Devin shouts from behind me before I hear two bodies slam against the ground.
Instinctively I do so, and a millisecond later a bowrifle energy bolt whizzes past my scalp and strikes the wall in front of me. The red energy smashes into the rock and showers sparks. I roll out of the way as I hear several
more bolts strike the ground all around us—and the various dodges my companions employ. When the first volley ends, a chorus of shouting emanates from behind us and I scramble to my feet. I glimpse the assailants.
Twelve figures are perched upon the ledge overlooking the ravine. Smoking bowrifles in hand. All are garbed in brown and crimson dust robes, black gloves, cargo pants, and tan boots. Their faces are obscured by cloth masks that cover their lower faces while dark goggles hide their eyes. Each individual sports long, unkempt blonde hair that is twisted into dreadlocks. This is my first encounter with an Outland tribe.
They let their weapons cool down before unleashing the rest of their clips. Red energy bolts hail into the ravine as we scatter and use various boulders for cover. I fire blindly at them, the bowpistol recoils ferociously. Their bolts smack into the stone with loud clacks, and I see bits of rock being chipped away. The volley ends when their weapons overheat and the magazines are dry. But strangely, they don’t reload.
“Iri’tah! Usta pin na confit!” Vivían shouts. Despite being aware of her Outland experience, I’m still surprised at her Outspeak dialect.
The Outlanders seemingly disregard her words. “O’rah tah!” they shout in unison, tossing their bowrifles aside before clambering down the ledge towards us. “O’rah tah!”
Vivían rocks her head and lets out a sigh. “Alright. Let’s go! I’ve been itching for a scrap!” she says with a confident smirk. A look in her violet eyes says something different.
She fires the energy arrow. Blue light whisks through the air and strikes one of the Outlanders in the head. The body smacks against the ground from the fall. Vivían fires another arrow that burns through the leg of another. The Outlanders reach the ground level at an incredible speed and charge at us, barely giving Vivían enough time to draw another arrow.
One of the Outlanders lunges at her with his drawn sword. I steady my bowpistol and prepare to fire. It’s set to kill. I try to aim for the man’s head. But I’m too slow. Instantly, a dagger strikes him in the throat and blood spurts from the impact as he crumples a meter from Vivían.
“You need to be faster than that, Sarina!” Vyck shouts as he tosses another dagger at one of the assailants. The Outlander ducks and the blade flings past him.
Instinctively, I point the bowpistol at the attacker and pull the trigger. A crimson bolt speeds through the air and hits his torso. I catch him in the ribcage. The man collapses on all fours, the cauterized wound still bleeds indistinctly. He spits up blood. Vyck takes a quick look at me and draws his shortsword. He looks impressed.
“Nice shot!” he shouts with a tinge of smugness before rushing another attacker.
“You’re welcome!” I shout in response, firing a few more shots. Lack of light impedes my aim. I miss my targets and the pistol overheats. Tossing it away, I expand the spear with a metallic snap.
Let’s do this, I say to myself as a rush of adrenaline runs through me.
The remaining attackers branch off into groups to take on various individuals. Five converge on Devin and Vyck while another four head towards the rest of us. Vivían and I both step forward to cover Remus and Aida as the first of the assailants brandishes his sword and swings at me.
I’ve never dueled anyone before, but I won’t let that stop me. I center my gravity and focus my attention. At the last second, I parry the blade with the shaft of my spear—sending a vibration through my arms and into my core. Digging my feet into the ground, I hold my ground and push against the Outlander with my entire body weight. He recoils somewhat. I take a few steps back. With some distance between us, I ready the spear and begin jabbing the spear at him. I want to keep him on edge and at a distance. With some space between us, I begin to formulate a strategy.
My mind is in a state of tranquil focus. My body reacts almost naturally in response to the danger. Time seems to slow down, and the area around me blurs as my attention centers on my opponent. If I keep my center, it’s less likely that I’ll be caught off guard. With my legs spread and knees bent, I continue to stab at my opponent. Then, my strategy comes to fruition.
After a lengthy jab, the attacker bats the spear to his side with a grunt and lunges. He thinks I’ve left him an opening. Good. With the momentum generated from his blow, I twist to my left and the spear’s tip goes into a blinding arc. I whirl around and swing the spear with all my might. The motion is too fast for the man to react, and the tip of the spear cleanly cuts into his throat. Blood leaks from the wound like water leaking from a cracked mug. A gurgling sound emanates from his mouth as he drops his sword. Collapsing to the ground, his hands flail to try and staunch the bleeding.
A sense of foreboding jangles up my spine as I glimpse his body, and coldness starts to creep into my heart. The heat of battle fades somewhat. I’ve ended this man’s life. He’s slowly bleeding to death. A dark pit forms in my chest. It’s like another part of me has been chipped away.
Mustering all my courage and strength, I jam the tip of the spear into the man’s heart. There’s a wet crunch. His body goes limp, and he’s out of misery.
My head snaps to see Devin and Vyck cleanly cut down two of their attackers before twisting their blades into defensive parries. Vivían is down on one knee and fires another arrow into the left goggle of another. Sparks and drops of blood explode from the impact. Despite her glee, there seems to be some portentous disturbance to her eyes as she fires another blue arrow.
Impressively, I see Aida keeping an attacker away from Remus who had been knocked to the ground. He fumbles while looking for a weapon. Aida uses twin daggers in a blinding dance that both blocks attacks and opens cuts on her opponent’s wrists and thighs. Remus finds my discarded bowpistol and struggles to reload it.
A yell snaps my attention elsewhere. Another Outlander charges at me, his face unreadable by the mask and goggles. I’m too slow in my reaction time. Using two hands, the attacker bashes my spear with his sword. The metal slips through my fingers and it flies from my hands. Defenseless, I attempt to retreat even as the man raises his sword to deliver the final blow as he chants: “O’rah tah!”
I brace for the pain even as the same feeling of tranquil aversion envelopes me.
I hear an electric crack. He halts imperceptibly. And sparks flying from his back. An energy bolt hit him. The Outlander moans in pain and drops his sword. A second bolt explodes on the back of his head, burning a hole into his brain. Crunching against the gravel, his body topples over and I glimpse my savior.
It’s Remus.
Down on one knee and with my bowpistol raised in his right hand, he gives me a nod of reassurance. A look of comradery emanates from him. A reciprocal nod escapes me. I’m still in awe at his sudden initiative and concise deadliness, two characteristics I thought I’d never see. He certainly isn’t helpless.
Energy bolts fire from the pistol as he tries to assist the others. I snatch up my spear. I see Devin and Vyck have dispatched their opponents and are now battling two Outlanders from the second group. Aida moves gracefully as she battles her last opponent. Neither Remus nor Vivían have clear shots, so they hold.
Weaving to doge a wide swing, Aida spins her body and stabs one of her daggers into the calf of the Outlander. He yelps with pain and falters. Aida takes the opening. Delivering a martial kick to his other leg, the man falls backwards and Aida practically flips over him. The last dagger is flung into the forehead of the Outlander.
Vyck slays his opponent with ease, but Devin’s seems to be more than a match for him. Their one-handed styles mirror each other. But Devin starts to get overconfident, and I can see huge holes in his defense. He’s leaving himself wide open. A moment later, I’m proven right.
At the height of a two-handed swing, Devin lunges at his attacker. And he’s too slow in reacting to the assailant’s dodge. The Outlander spins and delivers a kick to Devin’s stomach—driving the breath from him. His body smacks against the dirt, and his blade slips away. Vyck’s too far away to reach him in ti
me. The Outlander raises his sword to deliver the coup de grace. I have to act now!
A fiery determinism ignites within me like embers setting fire to a dry bush. I pull the spear back, aiming the tip at the Outlander’s masked face. I exhale and hold. The target is in sight. And with a yell, I toss the spear as hard as I can. Seamlessly it soars through the air like one of Vivían’s arrows. It flies…
And I miss. Spectacularly.
The weapon spins inches from the man’s face and collides into the ravine wall. Sparks and chips of rock fly everywhere. A sharp clank echoes. The assailant pauses, looks at the spear, and then looks over at me with his head slightly cocked. Underneath his goggles, I suspect he’s giving me a look of amused condescension.
“Fragging Hells,” I mutter bitterly.
I berate myself for acting impetuously. However, my performance did distract the attacker for the right amount of time. Before he even turns his head back to Devin, the tip of Vyck’s shortsword is flung into the Outlander’s chest. Right through the heart. He dies immediately even as his body is sent flying backwards.
The commotion dies down, and I can feel tension leaving my body. Shouting stops, blades no longer clash, and dust clouds linger from excessive movement. My heart beats at a normal pace, and my fear for the others recedes. There is a still quiet even as we stare at those fallen. We have won.
◆◆◆
All is quiet at first. But then I hear panting breaths, groans of pain, and clanking of weapons. Blood thunders in my head. My breaths feel shallow. Adrenaline rush?
“A worthy scrap!” she comments, rising from her knee. “That was fun.”
“Seems like you all aren’t worthless in a fight after all.” Devin grunts as Vyck helps him to his feet. He cradles his stomach. “And that was a great throw, Sarina—really spectacular.”
“To the Hells with you, asshole!” I sneer through clenched teeth, approaching the others. Remus stands and hands me back my pistol. He grins at me.
The Maven Knight (The Maven Knight Trilogy Book 1) Page 15
