Sword from the Sky

by R. Janvier del Valle

THE VISREH HAD BEGUN TO OVERWHELM THE SCHOOL, AND Siel commenced with making plans for an escape. The lesser Davinians would be escorted out the secret passageway leading outside while the higher blades would take the blunt of the combat at the front of the line. Once all the lower blades had left the school, Siel and the officials would concentrate on Mahlevenieh, who was wreaking havoc at the front of the hall by swaying her beastly arms back and forth, launching Davinians in every direction possible.

  Near the rear of the hall, Vehru kept slashing away at all the visreh attacking him and Luca.

  “Vehru!” Luca cried in the middle of his swings. “Friend! You can leave my side. I’ll be fine. Go to the front and help the lower blades!”

  “Are you sure?” Vehru said as he twirled and beheaded one of the creatures in front of Luca.

  “Go!” he screamed. “I seem to be doing fine by myself with Siel’s Prossesur.” And it was true. No one there was slashing visreh as efficient as the fallen Davinian. Luca had tapped into some inner supernatural strength, and there were moments where his speed was something otherworldly.

  Vehru zigzagged through the mass of Davinians on his way to the front lines, stopping in the middle of them to look for his affection. He spotted Luleh at the front line next to a group of second blades, for she was lending these lesser students her fighting prowess. Jubilant, Vehru made his way to Luleh, popping up behind her just in time to use his blade to strike down a visreh who had been trying to get at Luleh’s blind side. “Together?” Vehru asked, hoping to join the Flower in defending the younger students.

  With a smile, she complied with his request. “Together.” So they began taking on twice as many foes and ending them twice as fast.

  Jené and Nefiru had not moved from the wooden table they had set up, striking down any unfortunate creature mustering up enough courage to jump on the table, challenging them. As the mass of Davinian warriors began to move closer to the rear of the hall per Siel’s command, the two young servantus decided to stay atop their table and take on the visreh regardless of the fact that they were now left alone and exposed.

  But when Mahlevenieh finally broken through a wall of higher blades near the front of the hall and made her way towards the center, all who saw the boys standing on top of the table began screaming at them, warning Jené and Nefiru of their blatant stupidity.

  “Get off the table!” one Davinian screamed.

  “She’s coming your way!” said another Davinian. “Fools! Off the table now and join us!”

  But the boys were defiant and threw their hands up in the air as they held their bloodied Rasplendurs.

  “Why should we move?!” Nefiru said.

  “This is our home!” Jené said.

  And they banged Rasplendurs together, which sent a shrilling sound wave throughout the hall.

  “Let her come!” the two boys said together as a team.

  And just when Mahlevenieh was close to reaching them, Jeskun and Gehwen sneaked up behind the boys, and with them still on the table, moved it all the way back to the rear and into the mass of Davinians.

  “Hey, come on!” Nefiru said.

  “You guys can’t take her on by yourselves!” Jené said, clearly disappointed.

  “Now stay!” Jeskun said as he turned around and made his way towards the beast-lady.

  At the rear of the hall, Luca had managed to defeat all of the visreh within ten yards of his space. After he took in a few breaths to reinvigorate himself, Lereh walked up to him. “Why aren’t you fighting?” Lereh said.

  “I just finished,” Luca said. “Don’t you see this?” he pointed to the dead bodies on the floor.

  “I’m supposed to believe you did all of this?” Lereh said.

  Luca noticed that she had been cut near her left shoulder and was bleeding quite a bit. “Are you all right?”

  “It stings.”

  “We need to bandage that up.”

  “I can’t fix it now, so let’s not waste any time.”

  “Here,” Luca said, tearing off part of his cloak and wrapping it around Lereh’s arm to seal the wound. As he spun the bandage, a visreh came upon them, and Lereh jerked her good arm so she could send it to its death with a single swing.

  “Stay still!” Luca remarked.

  “Are we done?” Lereh said.

  “Done,” Luca said as he finished tying up the bandage.

  “Well, thanks for that,” Lereh said reluctantly. “Now, go make yourself useful, Luca.”

  But before Luca had a chance to reply to the girl who had all of a sudden become more important to him than she’d been a few minutes ago, a sharp pain shot forth from his shoulder. The strike had come and gone before the pain began to set in. Luca looked to his right shoulder and saw blood seeping out from his cloak. He turned to his rear and saw the cause of it: an awe-inspiring lance was impaled on the floor behind him. All of this happened so quickly that it sort of put him in a state of shock.

   Logrec had missed his mark, and on his face, the plates inside his helmet flipped, landing on a plate of a mouth in pure contempt. Without further thought, he went after Luca, scaling the walls and avoiding the mass of Davinians in the middle. But he did not go unnoticed. A number of Davinians witnessed this act of cowardice, and knowing that Logrec was the key to stopping all the visrehs, many Davinians set their sights on the beastly boy. But this was harder than it seemed, for Logrec carried with him a loyal following of creatures, and whenever one of the Davinians came close to him, out of the blue, that Davinian was bombarded by ten to twenty visreh.

  Alas, Logrec reached the rear of the hall and jumped down. Siel watched from his throne as the boy came to Luca, but he did not help. Some things Luca had to confront on his own, for what good would it do to not have conflict in one’s life? For hardship and conflict build character, allowing us to decide between good and evil, even if it led to death, which was known to be less of a punishment than the evils that led to it. And there were some things Siel could not interfere in; it was not his place. So he did not come between Luca and his fate. Intervening in these types of matters sometimes belonged to forces outside of one’s self and one’s own world.

  “It’s time, Luca!” Logrec said. “You come with us, okay; you meant for us.”

  “He’ll go nowhere with you,” Lereh said, taking up arms against Logrec.

  “Charming,” Logrec said. “Even in the halls of battle, childish affection exists. This is why I came to take you, Luca—take you from all this outwardness.”

  “You’ll have to pass through me to do that,” Lereh said with great valor.

  “Luca, please put your pet away.”

  “Watch your tongue, beastly child,” Luca said.

  Logrec’s mouthpiece moved like a carousel of paintings, ending up on one slide that had a drawing of a mouth saying ooh. He completed the gesture by putting his hand up to his mouth. “Come now, cripple,” Logrec said. “Don’t keep us waiting.”

  “If all you wanted was me, why did you come to take the land as well?

  “That is a foolish question. You’re only a small part in a grand scheme. You’re necessary to survival. You are how we bring the darkness to the land!”

  “How so?”

  “You have something in you that we cannot destroy but must cover up. You have been given something.”

  “So you want my sword, is that it?”

  “No! No the sword but what came with it! We need all of you. We’ll take you to our land, to the land of darkness. Then you’ll finally be covered. We’ll cover that light that’s inside of you!”

  “But why bring the darkness?”

  “To kill the sun!” the beastly child said, “to bury the land in dirt and cover it with the thickest of fogs. If we cannot lure men to darkness, then we bring darkness to men. You cannot escape it, Luca. Come with us; we need you. We need to stifle you, make everything shadow, then man no longer need shadow, for they walk in darkness and shadow becomes man!”

  “E
nough!” Lereh could stand no more of it, and she lunged towards Logrec, yet the boy in red need not do anything but raise his arms straight out in an embracing manner, as if he was saying “Come and strike me.”

  And she did; her Rasplendur struck precisely at his heart, but the sword did little damage to his armor.

  “Tsk, tsk, how rude,” hissed Logrec at his opponent. He countered by striking Lereh on her cheek, but the blow was so fierce, that it sent her flying through the air and onto a mass of Davinians near them. After disposing of Lereh, Logrec leaped towards Luca, tackling him to the ground. “Fallen prince, do you have anything to say before I take you?” Logrec said as he put pressure on Luca’s neck.

  “Sta—” Luca could barely say, then he broke into a whisper, mumbling some phrase. Somehow, Luca could not tap into that superhuman strength he had done so earlier. It seemed as if Logrec neutralized it in some way—or maybe Logrec was just as powerful as he was.

  “You want what?” Logrec replied. “You were actually going to say something?”

  “My star.”

  “Star?” Logrec said. “What star, Luca?”

  “This star!” screamed a voice coming from all directions. The hall instantaneously grew bright with the whitest light, and everyone near Luca’s vicinity were immediately blinded and forced them to cover their eyes with their hands.

  And before Logrec could decipher the voice, he was suddenly lifted up and pulled away from Luca by a mysterious force; the boy in red was launched into the air, crashing through one of the big windows at the back of the hall.

  Luca was also taken; he was lifted out of the hall as if some great giant made of light came in and pulled him out of the school in order to keep him safe.

  A moment passed, and where there were two boys before, there stood none. All were astounded and amazed.

  Before any of the students and masters had a chance to process what had just happened to Luca, the battle continued, for the Davinians were still in the thick of it, and there was no time to spend on pondering unnatural things. Mahlevenieh had progressed to the rear of the hall, and the only thing that stood between her and the mass of Davinians were three brave mastros. She had already managed to create a trail of death with the bodies of lesser Davinians.

  These three Davinians, Gehwen, the master of ceremonies and of the lesser blades; Jeskun, the master of short blades; and Vohro, the high master of blades and number three in the Davinian hierarchy, were now the school’s last line of defense against this sunless beast. They waited for her to make the first move, all three with their Rasplendurs drawn and at the ready.

  Lady Mahlevenieh stood before them, towering over the three with her face blacker than night, with her legs more powerful than any beast known to them, and her hands that could instantaneously crush a man’s head without warning. She waited for them to make the first move.

  Because all three mastros had differing martial styles, they had to approach her individually lest they get caught up in their own confusion and tactics. Gehwen was first. He stepped in near her legs, confusing Malehvenieh, and while she clumsily blinked, he circled around her and threw both his Trunu and Enebran to the back of her knees, which forced her to squat down and prop herself up with her arm.

  Next, Gehwen gallantly jumped over her, and when he touched ground, he spun to meet her face-to-face. He raised his Rasplendur with all his might and brought it down in a slash that could have split the land in two, but it did not, for it was blocked by Mahlevenieh’s other arm. The strong Davinian blade pounced on her flesh, making only a slight cut then sliding off her overly muscular arm. All three of the mastros were astonished, and now they feared what they did not fear before.

  Quickly, Mahlevenieh stood up, and with her right arm grabbed Gehwen by the neck, throwing him across the hall while simultaneously taking out both the blades that were stuck in the back of her knees. As Gehwen glided over the crowd of warriors, she flung both blades at him, making them stick on the left side of his chest, mortally wounding him. He dropped on the mass of Davinians, a fallen master.

  Anger swam through Jeskun’s limbs. His mind had turned into a frenzy of emotions, and he harnessed that energy to make his move on the beast. Mahlevenieh had managed to knock Gehwen’s Rasplendur out of his hand before flinging him across the room, and she bent over and grasped the Davinian blade.

  “Hands off that pure blade!” cried Jeskun.

  “Davinian rat, I’ll beat you down with your precious Davinian Rasplendur,” Mahlevenieh said.

  She came towards him, slashing at his chest, but Jeskun managed to elude the attack and counter without effort, yet his Rasplendur was met by the one she grasped, and the two blades clashed, and a loud clang sounded off in the air. With their blades caught, she easily pushed Jeskun with a flick of her wrist, dropping him to the floor. Seconds later, Jeskun managed to pull himself up without giving Mahlevenieh a chance to attack. He raised his Rasplendur high to come in with a powerful lunge, and the beast just stood laughing at him.

  “Now you will see what I am capable of,” Mahlevenieh said.

  Jeskun made his move, jumping in the air with both hands on his Rasplendur. And as he hovered in the air, Mahlevenieh pulled her arm back and forcefully brought it forward to meet his Rasplendur. The blades collided, but this time, Mahlevenieh’s thrust was so powerful, that it cut through Jeskun’s Rasplendur, effectively cutting it in half.

  Before Jeskun had time to realize his demise, Mahlevenieh managed to land one of her powerful thighs into Jeskun’s center mass, and the force sent him flying to the floor, knocked unconscious. After witnessing this, Siel ordered some of his Davinians to retrieve Jeskun and bring him to the rear of the hall.

  Only Vohro was left. He did not move or get angry; he just held his Rasplendur in his hand and waited for his opponent to make a move, but he spoke to the beast, “You may have defeated my brothers in arms, but I want you to know that, though I may not defeat you, I will cut you. I will scar that ugly face of yours.”

  “Do not call my UGLY!” Mahlevenieh said, raising her hands to the air. “I am BEAUTIFUL beyond all imagining!”

  “Then come at me, thing of beauty,” Vohro said.

  Fueled by anger, the lady came towards Vohro, grasping Gehwen’s Rasplendur. Vohro waited patiently until the blade was so near that it could have trimmed the hairs on his face, and he stepped to the side, letting her Rasplendur strike the floor. It did so in such a forceful manner that the blade got stuck, and there was a lapse of a few seconds where, instinctively, Mahlevenieh pulled on the sword in order to dislodge it.

  This was all the time Vohro needed, for though he knew that her body was immune to his Rasplendur, he also knew that Mahlevenieh’s face, which was the symbol of her vanity, was not immune to that which was not vain, his humble blade. So, in a flash, like lightning does when it strikes the ground and is visible for only a blink of an eye, he raised his Rasplendur with grace and cut the left and right side of her blackened face, as he had said he would do.

  In return, there came a wrath from the lady-beast, and Mahlevenieh’s limbs sprung up and struck Vohro so hard that some of his clothing was torn from him, and his vest split in two, causing most of his blades to strike the floor. He was knocked down to the ground, defeated. Immediately, Vehru and Pabru burst out of the crowd, grabbing the beaten mastro and his blades and dragging him to the rear, where Siel sat in contemplation.

  The Alta had just witnessed Mahlevenieh defeat his most powerful Davinians, yet he continued to exude calmness. Vohro, who was being helped by his son to move about, came up to Siel. “She is a beast of unimaginable strength,” Vohro said. “We must get you out of here at once.”

  “Don’t worry about me, my loyal servant,” Siel said gently. “We must think of the students and of the people of the land.” Siel stood up only to fall to the ground a second time, and now Vohro and a few others were aware that the Servantu Alta ailed inside. Siel spit up blood and quickly wiped it off
with his palm. He managed to stand up and gain some balance.

  “Alta!” Vohro said. “You’re hurt! Where?” Vohro looked for a wound.

  “You will not find anything outside of me,” Siel said. “I ail along with the school. As the school is being torn down, so is my being.”

  “Then we must get you out of here quick!” Vehru said.

  “I appreciate your concern, noble servantu,” Siel said. “but you must tend to your father.” Siel then put his hand on his beloved mastro’s shoulder. “Vohro, you must lead the students out of the passageway and into the clearing outside. I’ll follow you once everyone is gone.”

  “And what of the Lady?” Vohro said.

  “I will have a few words with her,” Siel said. And the soul behind his eyes was so formidable that Vohro did not even question his master’s statement.

  “Take care, Alta,” Vohro said. He motioned for Vehru to lead him outside with the others.

  One after the other, the Davinians retreated to the back of the hall and down a small passageway leading to the catacombs. Alas, all were gone except Siel. The hall had already been cleared of the visreh, but it appeared that more were coming from outside of the school, and some still lived throughout the other parts of the grand structure, yet the banquet hall was left empty, full of bodies and death. Only Malevehnieh and the High Servant remained.

  The beast from the sunless land approached the white servant. Siel disrobed himself to reveal his snow-white vest and golden, diamond-laced blades.

  “Oh, my,” Mahlevenieh said. “What majesty.” The beast stopped a couple of feet from the high servant. “All those diamonds and gold! Do you deem yourself worthy of all that beauty, high one?”

  “No, I don’t,” he said without emotion. “Would you?”

  “Oh, every waking minute,” Mahlevenieh said.

  “That is why you willed the sun to leave your land, Malasorta. You thought yourself to possess more radiant rays.”

  “You speak nonsense,” the beast said. “And my name is not Malasorta, old one. I am truly Mahlevenieh of the Sunless Land, from the depths of the abyss. As you can see, I am more than you. You cannot defeat me. Not in this world or in any other.” She breathed on Siel, staining him with her decay.

  Siel stood idly in the midst of the lady’s putrid breath and did not speak. Mahlevenieh reached inside the depths of her long, deformed body, and with full force, let out a terrible roar that almost knocked Siel down; his hair and skin were pressed, as if hurricane winds molested his entire body.

  “I will grant you some last words, white servant,” Mahlevenieh said.

  “I’ll be brief,” Siel said as he detached his Rasplendur from his back and moved it to his hip. “You have revealed to me your name. Thank you. For now I know just who you are and what you are. You may be my superior, lesser star, but by your love of vice, you took upon flesh, and flesh is something my Rasplendur can always touch.”

  “Just you try—”

  And before Mahlevenieh could finish her remark, Siel twitched, as if he had moved his arm, and his hand slightly moved with grace, and it appeared as if his blade was unsheathed, but before it became apparent that Siel had drawn his blade, it was already put back in its place and laid to rest.

  Right after the blade returned to its home, the cut was heard, and Siel’s strike was so full of might that the force of the swing ripped most of Siel’s clothes off his body and left his hair flowing in the aftermath. His face was covered in blood, and his eyes were like new moons. Before Mahlevenieh had realized what had happened, her body symmetrically split in two and casually fell to the floor.

  “I warned you before to not ever again force my blade out of its place,” Siel said to the fallen beast. “It is considered selfish, vain one.” And the lady-beast was no longer in the presence of the white servant.