The Living Sword

by Pemry Janes

  Dak ducked into one of the small eateries nestled on the ground floor of the buildings. Looking up, Eurik saw that someone had painted the word “Simios” above the wide entrance next to a drawing of a dancing cow.

  “And we're here,” his guide announced. “They got the best burgers in the lowers here.”

  “Since you're familiar with this place, why don't you order,” Eurik said as they took their seats at the counter. “But nothing strong to drink, please. We rarely drink on the island.”

  Dak frowned. “If you don't drink, how do you survive? A man can't live long without drinking.”

  “Ah, we do drink. But it is mostly water, not wine or beer.”

  It earned him another disbelieving stare. Eurik knew water was used for many things in Linese, but not to quench your thirst. Before Dak could comment, however, the man behind the counter turned his attention to them having finished helping another customer. “What will it be?”

  “Two burgers and two cups of light beer,” Dak ordered.

  “That'll be sixteen coppers.”

  Eurik fished the quarter of a coin and a few copper coins out of his pocket and put them down. The man glanced between them, then he simply picked up the money, though he gave the silver a good look before they all vanished behind his leather apron. “It'll be done right quick.”

  Eurik watched as the cook, his hair forming a silver fringe around his head, opened a chest next to the iron plate being heated by coals. Wisps of vapor curled around his arm as he reached in and pulled out two meat patties. “Cold stones are giving out,” he grumbled as he closed the lid again.

  While the meat sizzled on the plate and their scent filled the air, their cook retrieved two objects from a rack and started cutting them in half. He'd seen enough examples by now to know that he wasn't looking at some sort of large mushroom, but bread.

  “Where do you want to go after this?” Dak asked.

  “I'm not really sure. I've read about the temples here; they don't have those on San,” Eurik mused.

  “There's a temple to Aethel the Joyful nearby. The priestesses there are very pretty.”

  “I don't, uhm, I am not looking to worship your gods.”

  Dak shrugged and gave him a grin. “The priestesses don't care as long you pay. Supposed to be the act that's holy anyway.”

  “I'm also not looking for companionship. Not today.”

  “Huh, most people that been at sea can't wait, but hey, whatever floats your boat.” His guide narrowed his eyes. “You're from San?”

  Eurik nodded.

  “Then maybe you'll want to visit the Yellow Arena, they got one of those plant-people as a fighter. Been there for months now, went through most of the best so they started drawing in amateurs. Prize money's gone up to twenty suns now.”

  “A san has been fighting for entertainment?”

  “Been killing too, that's why they're dangling such a prize now. Last week there was this orc, supposed to be some big name, the san burned him to a crisp. Orc didn't even touch him.”

  “We'll go to this Yellow Arena then,” Eurik said as their order was put in front of them. He barely paid attention to the novel taste and texture as his teeth sunk into his food. 'Could it be him? It's the only one that left the island recently, but why didn't Hoyashi say anything about this? And why would he fight to entertain humans?'

  Chapter 4

  A Chance Encounter

  It was obvious why the round, towering structure was called the Yellow Arena. But this time, Eurik paid little attention to the architecture. A huge banner obscured much of this side anyway, featuring a man wielding a sword and shield leaping at a fire breathing san. The writing underneath promised a spectacle and twenty gold pieces for whoever could best their champion. But frustratingly lacked the name of the san in question.

  Eurik made his way inside and found a man sitting behind a wooden table and chewing on some sort of leaf. “Name?”

  “Uhm, Eurik?”

  He jotted it down on a piece of paper talking as he did so. “Fights starts in an hour, you got the third spot. Weapons are allowed. We are not responsible for any injury or death that might occur during—”

  “I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk to one of your fighters. The san,” he clarified.

  That got the puffy man to look up. “What?”

  “I—We grew up on the same island,” Eurik decided to settle for.

  “Right.” He didn't sound like he believed Eurik. “Well, I can't help you. Chi isn't the hospitable type and he doesn't want to be disturbed. Last guy that did...” the man shivered. His eyes strayed over Eurik's shoulder, then swiftly settled on Eurik again. “Tell you what,” he said slowly. “If you really want to talk to him, fight him. No risk if you two really know each other, and it might net you a nice bit of money.”

  “It's a little public.”

  The man resumed chewing and shrugged. “Best I can do, uhm, Eurik.”

  Eurik considered his options for a moment. “Then I suppose it will have to do,” he sighed.

  “Right. Let me show you the locker room. You can wait there, get something to drink. That way you don't miss your chance. Now, where was I?” he mused as he got up and led them deeper into the building. “Ah yes, management is not responsible for any injury...”

  ***

  “That one didn't last much longer,” Leraine observed as the robed man started to trash on the arena floor. His right arm lay about a feet from the rest of his body, still clutching his staff. His opponent simply stood a ways away, his arms folded, looking on. There was no sense of victory from the green humanoid. He seemed to have expected no other outcome.

  “Hmmm, but at least we get to see a san in action. There aren't a lot of people who can say that,” Irelith observed, before plucking another raisin from her paper bag.

  “I am not here for san,” Leraine shot back at her teacher. Below them, men emerged from behind the wooden screens ringing the arena floor. Most went for the downed wizard and started dragging him away, one carrying his arm. She wondered if they were going to take him to see one of those Linesan priests. They were supposed to be capable of some amazing feats.

  “No, you're supposed to be here looking for a suitable man. Most girls stay in our own lands for that instead of traveling across the entire continent to find one. And it doesn't take them a year,” she observed.

  “You went along when I proposed trying Linese,” the younger woman objected as she looked away. Her draen whipped around as she did so. Just in time to meet the disapproving eyes of some Linesan, no doubt because he didn't understand a word of what they were saying. She gave him a grin and he quickly looked away.

  “Of course I did. Never seen half the lands you took us through. But you aren't here to see more of the world, you have a duty.”

  “I'm not going to settle for adequate. I'm looking for a man that has the right mix of qualities.”

  “And I'm telling you not to be so picky. Just pick some comely lad, the rest takes care of itself. Unless you're looking for a husband, Fangling.” The left corner of Irelith's mouth rose up in a half-grin, a twinkle danced in her half-lidded eyes.

  “As if, I'm simply more discerning than you because more is expected of me.”

  “And you expect even more from yourself,” her teacher countered as the next challenger stepped onto the field.

  His clothes were strange, but his appearance wasn't. It was clear he was Mochedan. Leraine watched as he stopped at the screens and put his sword down, before sitting down so he could get his boots off. He left both his boots and his sword there, just outside the magical shield that protected the audience, while he went in barefooted.

  “Is he an outcast?” Leraine wondered.

  “Might be, though even an outcast should know better than to go up against a san without his sword or his boots. And then there are his clothes.”

  “What about them?”

  “Their design is similar to that of the san. Look
, there are differences, but not many. I wonder...”

  But Irelith the Viper said nothing more on her suspicions.

  ***

  Standing several paces away, Eurik bowed towards the San he was now sure was Chizuho. The noise coming from the hundreds of people watching was thankfully muffled because of the shield, so they'd be able to hear each other well. “Greetings, I am—”

  “Zasashi's pet,” Chizuho interrupted him. “Kicked off the island at last.”

  That stung. Eurik had to bite down on an angry reply. “He is my sesin,” he confirmed instead. “I was not aware you knew of me.”

  “Because I was already in prison for thirty years by the time you washed up on our shores,” the san supplied.

  “And because you left so quickly after your sentence ended,” Eurik added. He'd been the only one of the group that had made that choice. The only one who'd still defended burning down an orc village as retaliation for the attack on the Ichiru. It had been quite the scandal in what was usually a very ordered community.

  The referee, forgotten by both, now spoke up. “Ahem, gentle beings, perhaps you could continue this after the fight. The audience is growing restless.”

  “Like I care. Still, I do want to get this started so do your ritual and leave,” Chizuho ordered.

  The referee clapped his hands together. “Ariod, bless these warriors who do you honor today. Accept our offering, and may the favored win.” Turning around, he scurried to safety. He only slowed down when he had to pass through the barrier.

  It turned out there was no need to rush. Instead of starting the match, Chizuho went on talking. “Why did you come here?”

  “I will not return home for some time, so this is my last time to spar with someone that knows the Ways.”

  “I see. Unfortunately for you, there are people who want you dead. And I am happy to do the deed. I'd have done it for free,” he revealed with a san smile. “They should never have taught an outsider.” With those words Chizuho sprang forward and executed a quick palm-thrust.

  The ground beneath them was solid stone covered in a thick layer of sand, filled with Earth chiri, and Eurik had been drawing from it since he entered the arena. He blocked the attack, but still felt it even with his reinforced body. His mind still reeling from the casual way his opponent had talked about killing him, Eurik could only continue to block as Chizuho rained down blows.

  So when the san went for a leg sweep, it caught Eurik off-guard. Stumbling to the right, he didn't even notice Chizuro jumping up until his leg landed across Eurik's back. He fell to the ground. 'Come on, focus.'

  Eurik swung his left arm out, pulling a pillar of rock along as he did so. The pillar hit Chizuro in the chest, sending him flying back.

  ***

  “Magic?” Leraine wondered as she watched the stone sink back into the ground.

  “I doubt it,” Irelith replied. “Can't be sure from all the way up here, but I don't think he said anything. He didn't waive a stick around or twiddle with his fingers either. It didn't look anything like what we saw that wizard do.”

  The fight started back up again. The outcast, if he truly was one, had become the center of a small sandstorm. The sand built up on his arms and hands, forming a kind of armor around those limbs. Advancing, he swatted the fireballs the san was now firing at him out of the way.

  “It looks more like how the san fights,” Irelith said. “They're manipulating the elements through movement alone.”

  Down below, the two fighters had drawn close again and were trading blows. The san was fast, his fists wreathed in flames. The outcast blocked for the most part, but whenever he did launch a punch it sent the plant-man staggering.

  ***

  Gritting his teeth, he weathered Chizuro's assault while reviewing what he knew of the Way the san was using. 'Path of the Sun, the Way devoted to fire. It's a powerful Way, not just giving the wielder more strength, but also more speed and energy.'

  Eurik sensed Chizuro's next move, feeling the Wind chiri gather around the san. His opponent's strikes changed subtly, the flames around his hands grew. Instead of trying to power through, Chizuro now went for glancing blows. And they came on a lot faster.

  He poured more chiri into the sand around his arms, but the sand armor began to crack and crumble anyway. 'Not good.' Eurik jumped back and stamped on the ground. A rock flew up to hover in front of him; kicking it with his other foot he sent it flying towards Chizuro.

  His opponent spun around the large projectile, breathed in so deep his chest visibly expanded, and exhaled a stream of fire at Eurik.

  ***

  The hum of voices around Leraine started to get more excited as the two began to seriously reshape the arena floor. Two rock plates slid out of the ground to cover the outcast as fire streamed towards him.

  When the san noticed the makeshift rampart, after the flames had rolled over it, he spun around and made a sweeping kick with his leg; a streamer of fire slammed into the rock.

  That one must have done something, though Leraine couldn't see what, because it prompted a response from the other fighter. One plate slid through the ground toward the san, like a shark's fin, followed by the other whirling through the air.

  The san didn't miss a beat. Using one plate as a stepping stone he jumped over the other. His opponent, however, must have seen that coming because the airborne san was met by two rocks the size of Leraine's head flying straight at him.

  With a roar that echoed around the arena, the plant-man started to spin around while still in the air. And somehow, the move deflected both stones.

  “He got him,” Irelith grunted. Glancing over at her, she saw her teacher was leaning forward like Leraine was.

  Looking back, she saw the san land less than gracefully proving Irelith right.

  ***

  Eurik rolled over another stream of fire sent out by Chizuho as he got back up. He was starting to feel the strain now, but his opponent seemed to only get more energized as the fight went on. And he could feel the reason for that burning on the back of his neck. The afternoon sun gave Chizuho plenty of heat to work with.

  A moment of inattention and the san was right up in Eurik's face with one leg swinging for his middle. He blocked it, but that just left him open for a gut-punch that sent him staggering and wheezing.

  'A good thing these clothes don't burn so easily,' a distant part of his mind noted as Chizuho kept up the pressure. 'But I can't win like this, I'm too slow.' There was a way to fix that, by doing what Chizuho was doing. But the thing was, the san had experience with combining two of the Ways. Eurik could barely use Wind chiri.

  'No choice,' he resolved when a kick snapped his head up. It felt like it was about to fly off.

  Luckily, Chizuho's actions provided Eurik with all the Wind chiri he needed. Loosening his stance, he drew some of the chiri inside of him. Every muscle in his body tensed as the competing energies scrubbed against his nerves. It felt like his body was on fire.

  'Can't hold this for long.' Blinking, Eurik looked for his opponent and found him preparing to breathe another firestorm in his direction. This time, he did something other than defend.

  He leaped out of the way and let the flames pass him by. Eurik started to close in on Chizuho even before the fire died down. 'One shot.'

  A san, compared to a human, didn't have many weak spots. No bones to break, no soft organs either. They didn't even get concussions since their brains were made from the same amber-like material as their eyes. Still, they did have a sensitive area and Eurik aimed his fist for it.

  His haymaker collided with the side of Chizuho's head, hitting his hearing membrane.

  ***

  “That cost him,” Leraine mused after the outcast collapsed to his knees. Not that the san was in a position to exploit the opening. He was clutching the right side of his head, swaying on his feet.

  “He moved very fast at the end, but I think he hurt himself more than he did his opponent,” her teacher
agreed.

  Down in the arena, the san was once more facing his opponent. He seemed to say something before taking a wider stance and bringing his hands together. Dust stirred, began to circle around him. From that whirling air sprang ribbons of fire and twisting air that spiraled towards the san, coming together between his hands.

  Leraine watched as a small sun began to grow between the plant-man's hands; the outcast, too, stared at the green humanoid. She frowned. “Why doesn't he attack? Those streams shouldn't be able to stop a rock.”

  “I wouldn't be so sure,” Irelith countered. “Besides, I think that if he makes a move, the san simply launches whatever attack that is immediately, rather than waiting for it to finish. And it looks nasty enough already.”

  The outcast must have followed the same reasoning. He didn't even get up, he just waved his arms and summoned a torrent of sand to him. It covered him, turning him into a moving statue of sand. His next move was to raise a dome of rock over himself, hiding him from view completely.

  None of it seemed to disturb the san who continued charging his attack. Leraine could tell when he was ready because the ribbons feeding the ball of light dried up. The san held for a moment, then a streak of light sped across the field hitting the dome; the back half blew out, fire and debris washed up against the barrier.

  “And it's over,” Irelith declared over the roars of the audience. “He gave a better accounting of himself than the other two, but it wasn't enough.” The san appeared to have come to the same conclusion as he took on the same self-satisfied pose he'd shown after his last victory.

  Leraine forgot what she was going to say when the san sank into the ground up to his neck.

  ***

  Pushing himself back to the surface, Eurik greedily took a deep breath of fresh air. He'd had to seal the tunnel behind him or the flames would have spilled from the dome down into the tunnel, cooking him alive.