o-----
It is tradition among those who shed their blood in the arenas of Krass to celebrate the lives of their kind even as they mourn them. And so, as the sun set they came together, feasted, danced and drank, sharing tales of their lost friend. The Green Faction, once just a collection of losers, dreamers, and rebels was reborn that night.
o-----
“So after the fight, Ravius and I were covered in the Kraken's ink,” said Gavin. His voice was on the verge of breaking. He concentrated on the story and Sadira's warmth at his side, trying not to choke on sorrow. Taking a deep breath, he continued, staring into the flames of the great fire around which they were all gathered. He tried to picture his friend, standing in the arming room.
“The thing about Kraken's ink is that it stains and it smells worse that you could imagine.” said Gavin.
“Smell's worse than beastman's arsehole,” added Ravius.
“It sticks like tar, and it’s hard to get off without the proper solvent; even Glamour won't work” said Gavin. “So Ravius and I are sitting in the arming room, marinating in this foul stuff, and by now we are both feeling pretty sorry for ourselves while we wait for the bloody solvent to arrive...”
“Why they didn't have it ready beforehand, I'll never understand.” said Cleothera.
“I felt like taking the grey path, truth be told,” said Ravius. “Drowning is not a pleasant way to tap out. I came close to quitting.”
“So Omodo walks into the arming room. He's clean now, somehow having managed to avoid getting dunked in the ink. He takes a look at Ravius and me. We looked pretty pathetic, I'd guess. When we turn our attention to Omodo he sniffs the air. By the ancestors, I'll never know how he managed to keep a straight face while inhaling that stench. He sniffs the air and then he looks back to us and said `does anyone here feel like having seafood tonight?'”
“We both laughed,” said Ravius.
“That we did,” said Gavin. “We needed that laughter, and Omodo knew we needed it. He was a true friend.”
o-----
“I don't know if any of you met Meady Mox, the arena master at Dreadwood,” said Sadira. “He was a corrupt, disgusting little maggot with some nasty appetites. He wanted me to do `favours' for him in order to get matches.”
“Sounds familiar,” said Headtaker. “We all know his type.”
“Mox was rotten in every way,” said Vintia, her eyes still bright with tears. “He tried to get Sadira killed and attempted to rape a friend of ours.”
Others nodded.
“He got his in the end,” said Sadira. “But there were times that I felt so helpless and hopeless there. One day Mox catches me after training, just as I'm coming out the baths.”
“At least he had good taste,” interjected Gavin. “You do look better when wet.”
Sadira laughed. “Quit interrupting... We all know what the baths are like, but this wasn't another fighter checking me out or showing their interest. He was in our space. He just stared at my tits as I walked by. I moved at a normal pace, because I didn't want to show the bastard that I cared. He didn't even pretend to look elsewhere; he just followed me, nodding and smiling his vapid little smile. I wanted to kill him every step of the way, but I just forced myself to ignore him and show no weakness.”
“Sounds awful,” said someone.
“After I was sure he was gone I just couldn't hold it in any more. I hit the wall so hard I broke my hand. Cracked the stone too. The Dreadwood Arena doesn't have any absorption runes; it's too old. Just at that moment Omodo walked through; he looked at me, looked at the broken stone, and then he punched it too. He shook his hand, smiled and then said `I always hated that wall'. It was just what I needed to calm down. Next time Mox tried to peep on me in the baths, Omodo, Ravius and Gavin all showed up, naked, and scared the shit out of that little maggot.”
“Mox couldn't keep his eyes off the big man's `second horn', either,” said Ravius, chuckling. “He just kept backing away, watching it like it was going to attack him...”
They all laughed. A few bawdy comments were made.
“Omodo helped in little ways,” said Sadira. “He never let someone suffer in silence, even when it was their own fault. He was a brother to us all. I will miss his kindness and his faith in others.”
o-----
Omodo's mother and father spoke about how their son saved his money and sold his patron gifts to send back to them so that they could start businesses and improve the local communities. This was a real blessing to the people he had been taken from as a young boy. They described how he visited often, always lending a helping hand. They wept as they talked, but their pride shone through despite their son's brutal end.
o-----
“I met Omodo in training,” said Ravius, who was one of the last to speak. A maudlin spirit had overtaken him as the night progressed. “I was paired up with him during a match when we were both twelve. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with the mace and shield they had given him for the match. He would not meet my eye. Skirmishers are trained to take advantage of this sort of weakness. As soon as the fight started I began calling him names. Taintborn, hornhead, beastbred, all of the horrible prejudiced barbs that a twelve year old with a mean streak can come up with. I beat him that match and left him standing there, dejected, waiting to be admonished by the instructors. I may even have said something unkind on my way out.” He paused, thinking back.
“The very next day, during free matches on the commons, he challenged me. He walked right up and asked to fight me again. I laughed at him. This time I humiliated him in front of the whole yard. I made quite a few people laugh and join me in calling him names. I felt good about it. I did not expect to see him again. A few days later he returned and asked to fight me again. I won again this time, but not as easily. He kept at it. I asked him why and he explained that he feared hostile groups of people and needed to learn how to stay strong in the face of my kind of prejudice.”
He paused and shook his head
“My kind of prejudice,” said Ravius. His voice seemed on the verge of cracking, but he continued. “I felt shame burn through me when he said that. Taunts on the fighting grounds are meant to be harsh, but I'd gone too far, humiliated and bullied him even when we weren't fighting. I did it to inflate my own sense of self-worth. I sought him out for practice after that. We became friends. He never let me moderate my tongue when we were fighting. He overcame his fear, in time. When we parted ways in Camp Valorous, he told me that he wanted to see if he could face them, face the crowd, without my support. He felt he was ready. He was right.”
His voice dwindled and he took a rattling breath.
“When next we met, Omodo was a much greater man. He had the confidence to match his big body and his colossal heart; a Champion's confidence. I will remember the way he stood up to every problem he faced, and saw it as an opportunity to become better by overcoming it. I will miss his wisdom.”
The mourners erupted into cheers, but Gavin noticed that Ravius looked troubled. The blonde skirmisher rose and stalked away from the fires and the crowds as Delph rose to speak.
o-----
“I grew up in East Shallows,” said Delph. “We never had much. When ma died, I spent a lot of time on the streets. I felt like, maybe no one wanted another Hornhead. Maybe the only path for me was the dockside gangs.”
“I first saw Omodo when he fought in the pits,” he said. “I snuck in there when I was just a boy, to watch the Minotaurs fight. It’s good to see people like me who have pride. Omodo was the first Armodon I'd seen there. I could tell he was like me, on the inside. I watched him ever since then, when I could. He grew great, and I was proud of him.”
The young minotaur paused, eyes haunted. “He made me want to be better. Instead of running streets, I begged for jobs Dockside. I got one and I worked hard. When I was treated bad, I just walked away and found another job, just like when Omodo lost a match. He never gave up.”
“I saved money.
I stayed out of trouble, even when it would have made me rich. Even when it would have made me feel strong. Omodo was like my totem, my hero. I carried him with me. It sounds dumb, but when I was tempted, when things got tough, I just asked myself, what would he do?”
“I kept going to his matches when I could,” said Delph. “On his last in Camp Valorous, I look up and he's standing before me. He says `Hi Delph'. Turns out he remembers people who watch him, especially those of us who liked him in the early days. He's just good like that. We get to talking, and I realize he cares. Really cares, like he's Ezuis or one of the old-time knights from before The Reckoning. I started working for him when I could. He even tried to pay me. He didn't like to think of me as a vassal or a helper. He called me a friend.”
Delph paused, looking off into the distance. “Omodo knew that some folk aren't lucky, like us. They never get the opportunity to better themselves. Even in this bountiful land of ours there are people who can't read and can't fill their bellies. Omodo used his money and his time to raise awareness. He showed me how I could help people. It feels good to make a difference. I owe that to him. Omodo was my hero. His example helped me become a better man. I will miss his wisdom.”
o-----
After several minutes of searching Gavin spotted Ravius standing, staring out across the darkened plain where they had scattered Omodo's ashes earlier in the day. The stars were bright in the cloudless sky and the songs of night insects mixed with the sound of the wake at this distance. The smiling skirmisher had left the circle of the wake early. It was unlike Ravius to seek solitude. He did not turn as Gavin approached, even though he made his presence obvious.
The silence stretched, unbearable. Ravius looked pale and tired, bereft of hope.
“It's over,” said Ravius. “He was the best of us; now he's dead. I don't think I can keep going Gavin. It seems so pointless now.”
“What will you do?” said Gavin, wishing he could find the words to console his friend.
“I don't know,” said Ravius.
Eventually it dawned on Gavin that the words he waited for would never come. Nothing he could say would fill the void. He put his hand on Ravius' shoulder.
“You have been a good friend to me Ravius,” said Gavin. “And you were a good friend to Omodo. If you need time to find yourself, I understand. I'll always be here.”
Ravius chuckled. It was a bitter sound. He turned to Gavin.
“You're going after Valaran, aren't you?” asked Ravius.
“I am,” said Gavin.
“I can't be there for that,” said Ravius. He ran a hand across his cheek. “Once was enough.”
There was a long silence after that.
“I understand,” said Gavin.
“Farewell my friend,” said Ravius. “It was good while it lasted.”
And with that they clasped hands, as Gladiator's do, and parted ways.
o-----
Sadira found Gavin standing alone in the darkness, much later, after the wake died down. She put her arm around his waist, and leaned her head against his shoulder. They stood that way for some time, until the sky began to brighten in the east.
“What are your plans for revenge?” she asked.
“I am going to hound Valaran until he accepts my challenge... whatever the cost,” he said.
“I've heard that the Assembly has suspended him,” she said.
“I know,” he said. He sighed, deflating a little. “I should be happy that he is dishonoured, but I just want to get this over with.”
“That does not sound very inspiring, honoured Gladiator,” she said, moving to stand in front of him and meet his eye. The sun rose behind her, and she looked fierce in the newborn light. “I know you have the strength to face Valaran. But I do not trust your mood, my love. Sorrow makes you play the martyr. I want you to promise me that you won't seek Valaran until Master Sax feels you are ready and until you have talked to your father.”
“I don't know if the smith is my father,” said Gavin.
“You do,” said Sadira. “I can feel it in you... deep down, you know. Don't over-think your connection with the man before you've even talked to him. As for Valaran, stalk him like a hunter; put that cunning mind to work.”
For a moment Gavin's mind flashed back to Dun Mordhawk.
“What if I fail?” he asked.
“Then I will avenge you,” she said. “But you won't fail. I know this”
“How do you know?” he said.
“I just do,” she said. “I have faith in you. Blind, irrational, and foolish... but it has not failed me thus far.”
“Very well,” he said. “But if I swear this thing, you must swear something in return.”
“Oh?”
“You must swear to take Karmal more seriously,” he said. He watched fury creep into her eyes, like storm-clouds sweeping in at dusk. “She has gone beyond the old rivalry. You need to be careful with her.”
She glared at him a moment, jaw clenched. He looked tired, older somehow. He met her gaze squarely though, and her anger faded. She nodded, a little petulantly perhaps.
“Serious oaths should be sealed in blood,” she said after a moment. She drew a blade.
“If you had your way dates would be sealed in blood,” said Gavin. He held out his hand.
She cut her palm, deeply, savouring the pain, and then she did the same to him, cutting cruelly, but he did not flinch. She smiled at his courage, breathing in the scent of blood, mourning, and morning.
“I swear not to seek Valaran until Master Sax deems me ready and I have met with the Smith, Liam Valcoeur,” he said.
“I swear to kill Valaran if our paths cross, and to treat my friend Karmal like my enemy if she acts against me,” she said.
They clasped their bleeding palms together, channelling power into their oath. And thus they were bound to each other, yet again, in a solemn pact of retribution.
o-----
Eventually Gavin learned that he had failed his test match for Master Rank. He had forgotten about the fight against the Pale woman and her Daemonic possessor. Someone did not like that he had shown mercy to her. It disappointed him that they had decided to fail him, but he did not appeal the decision. He could try again, but not until his fifty-fifth match. But Gavin no longer cared about what The Deliberative thought of his supposed failures, nor did he see master rank as the path to freedom as he once had. Valaran, and his oath to Sadira mattered more to him.
o-----
Gavin landed on his back in the grass, cut open nearly from his sternum to his collarbone. Sax loomed over him, placing the point of his greatsword, Countess, against Gavin's throat.
“You... have got to be kidding me,” Gavin said, gurgling as his mouth pooled with blood. He signalled his surrender.
Sax withdrew his blade, shrugging at Gavin. Sadira pushed the Ogre aside, kneeling to close Gavin's wounds and heal him with her magic. Gavin's attunement to the monastery’s Keystone made this a fairly simple task.
“Hush,” she said. He could sense reassuring calm from their bond. She did not doubt him. “You're making progress, beloved. You'll get there.”
“Fundamentals,” said Sax. “Your skills are sound, but your lack of focus is keeping you from using them all in harmony. Until your magic, mind, and body all flow as one you will not be ready to face Valaran.”
Gavin let his head roll back. He was frustrated. Three months of daily training with the students of the Faultless Blade and brutal practice sessions with Sax had worn him down. He went over the fight in his mind but could not see how Sax could get past his best defence with such a simple strike. He had yet to beat the master swordsman in a serious fight. It galled him, but he had sworn an oath.
o-----
Sadira was happy to spend time with Gavin on the calm, sheltered grounds of the Faultless Blade's quaint little school. Chosen Giselle seemed to think that the place was safe, and Sadira was able to spend a day or two with Gavin every month. It was not muc
h, but it was better than before.
Meanwhile she continued to dominate the arena at Brightsand Halls, winning match after match, shedding the blood of the enemies of the Domains before an ever-more worshipful crowd. She heard that Karmal was gaining quite a following in the arenas of the Trapholds, but she wasn't worried. She would put her rival in her place when they next fought in the arena... then they could go back to being friends again.
Sadira did not mention this to Gavin; he didn't understand Karmal like she did.
o-----
Perhaps Vintia, now a Junior Warbound with the Ninth Legion, could have convinced Sadira of Karmal's treachery.
But Vintia was caught up in the sweep of the expedition, getting ready to join the rest of Ninth Legion on the ships that would sail from Krass, down to Sudra, and then to Ithal’duin. They would followed a course pioneered by Chosen Brightloch and the Bright Company, who had discovered the route to lost Ithal’duin twenty years ago. It would take them to a strange new land.
Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power Page 27