Volume 2: Arc 1: Chapter 3

October 10, 32 R.E

An early winter wind blew through the city of Vasat as Rajac walked through its mostly deserted streets. He gripped his cloak tightly around him as people too poor to own property huddled in alleyways and steps of shops for the flimsy warmth company could bring on such a day.

His breath left a stream of mist in his wake as he walked slowly up the street. There was another expert he found who fit his parameters nicely within this city. Although, he had passed the level 200 threshold, Rajac was eager to fight Dalom.

Dalom was a hand-to-hand fighter; there were few of those that had passed the level 100 threshold, let alone, 200.

He had learned much about Dalom before he made his journey here, to this small, out of the way city on the border of Arosh. There had been much written about Dalom in his two-hundred-or-so years of life. Most of it was drivel. It praised him and his accomplishments but told of little else.

But, there were a few sources that spoke of the man. All the sources agreed that Dalom was one of the most driven experts remaining in the Mortal Realm.

Rajac turned a corner and headed up to Dalom’s residence. Like most experts, he fancied himself a lord of sorts. The large manor, surrounded by stone walls, sat on a small hill in the center city. Two guards stood at the entrance to the manor, and as Rajac approached, they stepped forward and blocked his path.

He flexed his soul outward slightly-just enough for them to feel the presence. A single look passed between both of the guards.

“Two in one day. That’s never happened before.” One of the guards murmured to the other.

“Auspicious times, my friend.” The other responded quietly as he stole a look at Rajac.

The first guard jerked his thumb towards the manor proper and said with a tinge of annoyance, “You can go up. Doesn’t mean you’ll get a fight though.”

A small frown crossed Rajac’s lips. He’d traveled many miles to fight this expert. It had begun to feel like a wasted journey.

“Is there someone up there with him now?” Rajac asked as he referred to the guard’s previous comment.

The guard nodded his assent. “Some bloke ‘or another came up nearly an hour ago. He’s still up there so master’s decided to fight him.”

Rajac felt his insides twist into a knot. It was unlikely Dalom would want to fight two bouts in a row. But, he had come all this way.

“Thanks.” Rajac nodded at the guards as the let him by.

He walked up the winding path of stone, lined with wilting lilacs, as he kept an ear out for any sounds coming from inside the manor.

He heard nothing.

Only the soft chirp of crickets and the cry of the birds broached the air.

As Rajac approached the manor, he noticed that the tall-oak front door was open and swung, absently, with the wind.

Hesitantly, Rajac pulled the hood of his cloak tightly over his head, pushed the front door to the manor open, and walked through it.

He was met by a wide foyer that lay empty except two men. One of the men stood, his short, graying hair contrasted with the darkness of the room as he talked quietly with a man who sat at his feet.

This man had striking features covered slightly by a reddish-mane that fell to the lining of his cut-off tunic, damp with sweat. As Rajac walked closer, he could see the man was wrapping bandages over long gouges that lined his wrists and forearms, as well as, a small, but perfectly clear, Ouroboros tattoo on his right shoulder.

He was a Client. And clearly, he was not shy about that fact.

Rajac stood, his mouth agape, in front of the two men. He had not expected a Client this far north. Due to their prevalence among the Humanoid Races, Clients generally populated the southern kingdoms of Mushan and Alochar on Vashin and the three great empires of the Kankun Continent, Ogbem, Bushin, and Halporth.

While he traveled Mushan, he had steered clear of them; there was a tendency for most of the Client experts to stray towards a less-honorable path. Rajac assumed it was due to the type of person who would seek to live again. He, after all, was one of those Clients and he knew, before everything, he had been just as abhorrent, just as vain, and just as selfish.

Even on Thantos, Rajac had acted in this manner. But, events shape people in many unforeseen ways. The Siege of Kankur changed Rajac and he still did not know if it was for the better. As he held his judgement in reserve, Rajac walked up to the two men.

“Dalom,” Rajac said solemnly, his face hidden within the recesses of his cloak, “I have come for a duel to test my strength but,” Rajac looked down at the red-headed man, “It seems you are occupied.”

Dalom’s lined face split into a wide grin as he leaned back and laughed loudly.

“HA! It’s been a long time since something this interesting has happened. Tell me, my friend, would you be willing to wait a week? I would gladly fight you then. I will be fully healed from this bugger’s fight. He may not looked like it, but he was a tough one.”

Dalom spoke in a somewhat sardonic way that mixed bluntness with just the right amount of bravado to make him likeable. The effect worked well on Rajac who began to feel some camaraderie with Dalom.

The red-headed man, though, was of a different opinion. At Dalom’s words, his dark eyes flashed. But then, they cleared as if the emotion has never been. A twinkle now rested in the red-headed man’s eyes as he said, in a throaty chuckle,

“Dalom, don’t be modest. You easily bested me. Even if I fought you a hundred times, I would never be victorious.”

Dalom shook his head adamantly as he said energetically, “Kornth, when you pass the level 200 threshold, I doubt any will be able to block your Magic fully. I only defeated you today because your soul has not yet reached that plateau.”

It seems, Rajac thought intently, that this Client, Kornth, had the same idea I did. Train by finding experts much stronger than you who are willing to fight without maiming or killing their opponents.

“Kornth,” Rajac interjected into the men’s banter. It was time to get a better understanding of the situation. “I have never seen a Client this far north. I thought most of you would be in the Orders’ conflict on Kankun.”

Rajac, in fact, knew very little of the Kankun Continent or what happened there. Most of what he knew was from a passing conversation; however, Rajac wanted to conceal his identity from this man.

After all, Komth was a Client; one who would never die. Even if Komth, the man, died, his data would be transferred into another body. Rajac, of course, had no wish to reveal the fact that he was also a Client.

Many problems could arise as a result including the possibility that Komth and he could become enemies one day. The kingdoms in Thantos were not very peaceful nations. Due to their large populations and limited resources, war was a common occurrence; experts were always at the forefront and, due to their very nature, made friends and enemies based upon the traditional lines drawn in the sand.

Clients just added a larger, more complex variable to the mix that Rajac could deal without.

Komth stood, flexed his hands lightly as the bandages creaked under the strain, looked up at Rajac, and frowned as he tried to peer under Rajac’s hood.

“For a stranger, you are rather inquisitive.” Komth said finally.

“In this day and age, it hurts little to be careful. When I see something odd, I make sure to find out the reason; otherwise, I might find a knife in my back.” Rajac said as he pulled his hood farther down his face.

“Hmm.” Komth said as he pursed his lips. “I have no allegiance if that is what you are asking. And my purpose this far north as you so bluntly put it, is the same as yours, I expect.”

It was highly implausible that the man could have lived on Thantos this long and not sworn an allegiance to someone or something. It was only human nature. But, it was possible.

Next time he wrote to Yaka, he would have to ask him to find more information on this…Komth. Nisa’s death had not only born in him a resolve to strengthen himself but also a cynicism that, sometimes, he found disheartening.

“Still though, it is a long way to travel here from the south. There are many experts in the south who hold…the same personality.” Rajac said as he flicked his eyes towards Dalom who watched the pair, amusement creasing the lines around his mouth.

Komth shrugged, nonchalantly. “Never felt comfortable down there. People take themselves too seriously.”

Rajac let out an uncontrollable snort at that statement. “And it’s all rainbows and sunshine in the north?”

“You’ve never spent time in the Courts of the Kankunan Empires. Experts there…” Komth shook his head distractedly.

“Let us just say, it’s very different in the south.”

Dalom walked between the two men and touched both men on the shoulders.

“Now, I love a little interrogation. But, this is my house. If you want to continue this conversation, do so outside.”

As he pushed both Rajac and Komth through the oaken doors, Dalom squeezed a hand down on Rajac’s shoulder.

“Young man…” Dalom turned to Rajac as he paused.

Inferring his meaning, Rajac quickly stated his named.

“Right…you come back a week from this date and I will face you then. Until then…”

With the sentence hanging in the air, Dalom snapped the door in their faces.

“Well…” Rajac said wryly, “That Dalom is an odd one.”

Komth chuckled lightly. “You have no idea. When I dueled him, he kept making a farce of the situation. Ridiculous.”

Rajac turned away from the door and looked down at the stocky man. “Whatever do you mean? I have spoken to a few experts who have faced him before and they have stated he is honorable enough. He stays away from vital areas and will pay for accidental injuries he causes.”

Komth waved his hand and a tiresome expression crossed his face.

“I heard the same stories. But when I fought him, he did not fight seriously at all. He toyed with me the entire time. That spiel he told you at the end was utterly ludicrous. I couldn’t even touch him.”

“Then why did he refuse to duel me? Surely, he was refreshed?”

Komth shrugged indifferently. “Perhaps he didn’t feel like it or perhaps I underestimated myself though that is doubtful.”

Both Rajac and Komth stood quietly for a long minute as the wind whistled between them.

Finally, Komth stated, in a soft undertone, “Even the level 200 experts never spoke of this. Dalom must be nearing level 300.”

Rajac’s eyes went wide at that news. There were less than three-thousand known experts in the Mortal Realm who had crossed the level 300 threshold. Most, if not all, held positions of power on the five continents of the world; the four Dukes of the Western Territories had all reached that pinnacle.

For an expert at that level to live in relative solitude, it was unthinkable. Even Rajac, with his infinite quirks, held a position of power. There were some experts over level 200 who lived like Dalom but they were experts who either stopped training or retired as they lived out their remaining years in peace.

“How…how is this not known?” Rajac asked as he stuttered over his words. “Surely every king would be at his doorstep begging him to join their Councils.”

Komth looked up into the sky as he shielded a hand over his eyes. “Pride, my friend. No expert likes to be toyed with. We spend our lives training day in and day out. No one would speak of such a humiliation; I likely will never do so again. I only told you as you will face the same humiliation in a week’s time.”

Rajac felt his heart sink into his gut at those words as Komth quickly followed his statement up with a wide grin. “Come now. It isn’t that bad. I already thought of several ways I could improve based upon that fight alone.”

Komth paused for a second and looked back at Rajac. “Tell you what, come with me to this little pub I fancy over by the market. They have the best beer money could buy outside Mushan. Its rare that I run into a fellow expert on the road. Come, let us share stories and relax for the night.”

As Komth led Rajac away from the manor, Rajac could not help but think of the irony in Komth’s statement.

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