Volume 1: Arc 2: Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE

A surprise chapter! I had time to do one and here it is. This is truly the turning point of the first arc and perhaps the rest of the story. From here on in, it gets a lot darker. So buckle up and get ready. See you next wednesday. Also, there will be a small note at the bottom. DO NOT READ IT UNTIL YOU HAVE FINISHED THE CHAPTER! Unless you want spoilers, then by all means, go ahead.

November 30, 20 R.E.

Rajac felt something salty in his mouth as he woke. Still half-dreaming, he absently chewed the food. Hmm. Crunch. Swallow. Crunch. A dull throb beat on his head constantly. He just wanted to sleep. Rolling over, a sharp pain bit him in the side.

With a hiss, he jumped to his knees. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he spit absently, trying to rid himself of the source. A few bits of leaf flew out of his mouth. Weighed down by his saliva, they dropped like rocks, falling straight down to the forest floor.

Forest floor? Rajac shook his head as he attempted to make the pounding go away. Staggering to his feet, he looked around. He was on the slope of a hill, leaves scattered on the ground, and high cedars towered into the sky; their limbs as bare as winter approached.

So Alberon had actually sent him to the Demi-God’s territory where the remaining Ventros lived. Amazing. A grin split his face as he began to hike through the forest knowing this was the last leg of his journey.

As he walked, Rajac was sure this was another part of the continent. The trees, cedar, was different than the ones he knew in the north. So too, were the plants and animals. A few multi-colored birds sang to one another as he hiked, emphasizing the differences between this region and his home.

As night approached, Rajac spotted his first civilization. Well, something like in any case. As he crested a rise littered with tree stumps, Rajac saw below a trail of smoke snaking lazily above a small collection of cedars.

Eagerly, Rajac scaled down the hill, running to the small gathering. Reservations about who inhabitated the fire or their intentions quickly flew out the window in his eagerness to find his race. In hindsight, Rajac would have beaten himself sensless right then and there. But, he was young then. Young and foolish. Age makes wise men of us all, some say. And this day, above all others, was the day Rajac was the epitome of the fool.

As he approached, he heard quiet laughter which only made him increase his pace. “Greetings, my friends!” Rajac called out to the hazy forms in front of him.

The laughter suddenly stopped. Three distinct forms stood in clear defensive postures. Rajac slowed his pace but his eagerness at finally reaching his goal bade him not stop. “I am no enemy,” he called, raising a hand over his head.

One of the three stepped closer to the fast approaching Rajac. In the darkness, Rajac could see little of the person; however, just by the outline, Rajac could see the ‘man’ was not human.

At least six appendages could be seen outlined by the dim shadows they cast from the crescent of the moon. This made Rajac slow finally. They weren’t Ventros. He needed to calm himself before he made a mistake he would regret.

Walking with some caution now, Rajac approached the ‘men’. “Who are you?” The’man’ said in a deep, rumbling voice filled with suspicion. “Lord Gaya has not given any permission to travel this far out.”

It was not hard for Rajac to reply ignorantly, as he truly was, “Who is this Lord Gaya? I’ve recently arrived in this region, lost, and am looking for a place to shelter for the night.” Though, as he spoke, Rajac came to the conclusion Gaya must be the Demi-God or one of his subordinates to command such a title within this region.

“Ha. You jest.” One of the ‘men’ in the back said. “I’m afraid not.” Rajac said, still slowly approaching. He thought he could see a blue tint to the ‘men’s’ skin only highlighted when they shifted in the night. “I don’t even know what region I am in right now.”

There was disbelief in the ‘man’s’ voice as he said, “None enter or leave her without Lord Gaya’s permission.” Walking forward now, the ‘man’ could be clearly seen. Four massive arms swung ape-like were attached to where a man’s ribcage would be. His skin was a light blue, almost florescent in the night, as his head was, well, there was no other word for it, skinless. A thick membrane covered his brain from the night air; however, Rajac could clearly see the pink organ pulsating with the flow of blood with every breath the man took.

Rajac stopped in his tracks. This was just too odd. He had never seen a creature like this in either his past life or this life. The ‘man’ stopped as well and let out a great guffaw. “Ha. Look at this. Gesha, Muhal. Another one has attempted to escape.”

Gesha and Muhal walked into the range of Rajac’s vision and he saw, with some discomfort, that both looked exactly like the ‘man’. One of the two let out another laugh. “Ha. They never learn. Though, this is the first time I’ve seen one willingly come to us.” The ‘man’ paused. “ This one is mine Gesha. You had the last one.”

Gesha rolled his eyes, or whatever passed for them in these blue creatures. They were slightly large concaved, slate grey, structures in the ‘men’s’ faces. “Whatever. Give me that dagger you’ve been hording and he’s all yours.” “Grhh.” Muhal growled, annoyed. “Fine.” He finally said, digging into his pants and bringing out a short dagger with a finely polished hilt, handing it over to Gesha.

Are they seriously trading a dagger to fight me? Rajac thought stunned. This was just too bizarre. Shaking his head, he pulled out his short sword; the Sadat glinted slightly in the moonlight.

Muhal turned, a wicked grin on his strange face. He drew his sword from its sheath and walked casually up to Rajac. “Ventros are always so fun to fight.” He chuckled softly. “They are always so sure of their abilities. It’s always so fun to dissuade them.”

Rajac only blinked at him. If the ‘man’ was trying to frighten him, it would not work. The Ventros here were, in all probability, like his own family. Forgetful of their way, they reverted to a baser existence, fodder for creatures like this one.

The ‘man’ who first spoke to Rajac called to Muhal, “Don’t kill him Muhal. The Greater-Races who disobey are to go to the circle. The Lord’s orders.” “Yes commander.” Muhal called back without looking over his shoulder. “You already had your warning Muhal. You won’t get another.” With those words, the commander left Muhal and Gesha in the forest clearing.

A pained looked crossed Muhal’s face at those words followed quickly by anger. “Ventros man,” Muhal spat, “Let us finish this farce quickly. My sheets grow cold without me.”

Rajac nodded imperceptibly. He was looking at where Gesha was looking on, uninterested. He could take out Muhal with a single blow and the follow it up with a strike to Gesha’s sternum. An easy victory. Then, he could continue his search. The Ventros were here. Rajac just had to avoid any more obstacles before collecting his people and leaving.

Rajac moved. The first step of the Unbroken Dance, a step of Martyr’s Fallacy. He urged fire to course down his sword and impale Muhal. A huge stream of fire immediately flew from his Sadat, trailing down his sword, before extending from the point to strike at Muhal. And nothing.

Muhal stood silently, a hand raised in front of his body, as smoke trailed lazily into the air from the path his fire magic made. Rajac hesitated as he registered he had not made impacted Muhal’s flesh. He reverted to the Cadence of Jin, growing so far as the third step. Muhal grinned. “I love this part.” Muhal dashed close, almost faster than the eye could see, and struck at Rajac.

Rajac was barely able to bring his sword up in time to defend. A sharp clang on clang thundered through the forest as the two men clashed swords. Though, they were not equal. A great reverberation of sound boomed from the epicenter of the clash throwing Rajac ten paces back.

He crashed into the ground with a hard thump. Overcoming the pain of the crash, Rajac rolled to his feet, his hand numbed from the exchange. Shock was the only expression he could feel at the moment. Panic, though, was a rising emotion in his heart as it attempted to throttle him with its greedy embrace.

“Muhal.” Gesha cautioned, as she leaned against a tree some thirty paces in the distance. “That was too much force. You may have killed him.” “I doubt it.” Muhal chuckled as he approached Rajac slowly. “This kid is the first of the Greater-Races to block my blow head on in about a century. He could withstand twice as much I wager.” “It’s on your head.” Gesha shrugged indifferently.

He was holding back? Rajac thought dumbly. There was no way he could face a monster twice his strength. How were they this strong? Rajac had thought, falsely it appeared, that these ‘men’ were not that strong because he could not sense magic from them. But if their strength was this monstrous, what was the need?

Rajac growled. He could not meet his end here. His race needed to be freed from this place to secure his future. If not, his immortality would be as good as a moot point. Flinging himself into Martyr’s Fallacy, he attacked the surprised Muhal. First step, thrust, second step, slash, third step, pivot, fourth step, lunge, explosion of fire. Boom!

~

Muhal raised his sword in defense to each blow, astonished by the ferocity of the onslaught Rajac was bringing. He was being pushed back. Never, in all the centuries he had lived, had he thought this would happen. In fact, it had never happened before. He was the strongest. He had always prided himself on the fact.

Neither the Commander or Gesha could match him in strength. They were better in almost everything else, to be fair, but Muhal did not count other things. Strength was all that mattered and to be beaten back by a Greater-Race pup, it was unthinkable. The pup had a look of climatic joy on his face as he struck out with his sword, slicing a sliver of flesh away from Muhal’s stomach.

As a flicker of pain registered in Muhal, it broke whatever reserves he had been holding. Whatever the punishment, he would take it; this farce had gone on long enough. With a great roar of frustration, Muhal unleashed his full strength even though he knew it would, in all probability, kill the pup.

~

Rajac felt victory close at hand as he went through the steps of Martyr’s Fallacy. Farther and farther, he drove Muhal back until they were, once again, at the center of the clearing. Eager for his victory, Rajac struck hard, cutting the air with his sword faster than the eye could see. He felt a snagging, a tearing, a ripping of the flesh and a small chunk of the blue-tinted skin of Muhal came away with his sword much like a fish caught on a hook.

Pain and anger overwhelmed all other emotions on Muhal’s face and he roared his rage for the entire world to hear. Rajac’s eyes went wide at the sound. It was an unearthly scream of bestial proportions; however, he was far too-well experienced to hesitate from such a sound. He lunged forward once again, intending to make a fatal blow; however, Muhal was quicker.

A snarl covered the ‘man’s’ face, as he swung his sword like a club, smashing it down on Rajac who, at the last instant, brought his sword up to block. A thundering explosion, like a clap of thunder, met the air as the two swords met once again. For a single second, Rajac withstood the monstrous strength before he felt a crumpling from his sword. It shattered into a million pieces, his Sadat, one of his few prized possessions broke in three, the magic sealed inside, lost forever to Rajac’s grasp. He only felt a moment of sadness as a split-second later, Muhal’s sword came crashing down on him and he fell into blackness.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

To clear a few things up.

This chapter introduces the hierarchy of races. It will become very important in later arcs. Ventros are a Greater Race.

Base Race: Any race who cannot speak. They possess no magic abilities whatsoever.

Lesser Race: Have the ability to speak. They possess no magic abilities whatsoever.

Common Race: Have the ability to learn magic.

Greater Race: Have inherent magic that can be accessed through means specific to each race.

Epic Race: Born with Magic

Godly Race: Born into the Pantheons. Have there own set of race hierarchies.

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