The Exercise Of Vital Powers

by Ian Gregoire

  The impassioned words struck Kenit like a punch to the gut. He felt ashamed by the boy’s keen insight. What’s more, Tylo was right; Fay would never contemplate leaving him behind.

  “You’re absolutely right,” he conceded, “and I’m going to do the same for her. But you need to get out of here, now.”

  “Fine.” Tylo glanced back at the ruins. “But whatever you’re planning to do, you’d better be quick about it.”

  Kenit cast his gaze back to the stone altar where he saw the Saharbashi standing over Fay’s prone form. He couldn’t hear the words being uttered by the man but his intent was easily understood as he raised his dagger overhead. There was no time to insist that Tylo resume the journey back to Relona—he had only a matter of seconds to respond to the threat to Fay’s life.

  Kenit stepped into the clearing with one hand outstretched in front of him as he walked calmly towards the altar. Invoking Yuksaydan, he reached out with the ‘unseen hand’ to snatch the dagger from the grasp of the Saharbashi before it could be used on Fay. The weapon flew through the air, several yards across the temple complex ruins, straight into his hand. As all eyes turned towards him in surprise, he tossed the dagger aside then dashed towards the enemy, invoking Turmiraydan to let loose a volley of concussion orbs at them. He could not take the risk of unleashing incendiary orbs—just in case they missed their targets, inadvertently killing Fay instead. Only one of the projectiles found its mark, rendering a single renegade unconscious, while the rest were either deflected away harmlessly or struck Inkansaylar-induced barrier shields.

  Undeterred by the partially successful attack, Kenit continued to rush towards the dais and stone altar, noting that the Saharbashi had levitated into the air to evade the volley of orbs. Fay was safe for the time being. His immediate concern was the six remaining renegades charging towards him with swords drawn. He reached back over his shoulder, drawing his own blade in response, but just before meeting the renegades head-on he jumped up and invoked Makfayshulat to levitate over the heads of the onrushing group, drifting to the raised platform. He alighted beside the stone altar then instantly invoked Inkansaylar to create a barrier sphere encompassing himself and the altar to guard against attack.

  He was relieved to see Fay’s chest rise and fall as she lay, unmoving, upon the altar. She was still alive, thankfully, so he hadn’t stranded himself in the midst of a hostile group of Zarantar wielders for no good reason. Suddenly, he heard and felt the detonations of a succession of incendiary orbs striking his barrier sphere—a reminder of the peril he had recklessly placed himself in, without any thought as to how to get out again. The translucent bubble held firm against the continuous onslaught, but Kenit knew his only hope of getting out of the situation unscathed was to rouse Fay.

  “Danai Annis!”

  He shook Fay gently.

  “Danai Annis, wake up,” he urged, tapping the side of her face.

  There was a blinding flash of light and something struck the barrier sphere from above, followed immediately by a deafening rumble of thunder. He looked up in panic to see the Saharbashi still floating high above. A second lightning bolt, emanating from just in front of the hovering attacker, lanced downwards striking the barrier sphere again, with another deafening rumble of thunder following in its wake. Kenit’s heart began to race. He knew he could sustain his invocation of Inkansaylar for two or three hours against the orbs unleashed by the six renegades of the Conclave, but fending off the lightning strikes of the Saharbashi as well was a different matter entirely.

  He began to shake Fay more rigorously. Still she did not stir. He gave her a harsh slap to the side of the face.

  “Wake up, damn it!” he yelled, before slapping her a second time.

  As he attempted to make it three, Fay’s hand shot up, catching hold of him by the wrist, then her eyes flashed open.

  “If you hit me one more time,” Fay said, evenly, “you’re going to have a problem on your hands.”

  She released her grip on his wrist.

  Kenit swiftly buried his face against Fay’s chest.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” he exclaimed with relief, before raising his head just as quickly, realising how inappropriate it was to have any part of his anatomy pressed against Fay’s breasts.

  A third lightning bolt struck the translucent bubble prompting Fay to clamber off the stone altar.

  “What’s our situation?” she asked, facing Kenit.

  “I was worried about you. I came back just in case you needed my help,” he replied. “But now it looks like I need your help if we’re to get out of here. There’s too many of them.”

  Fay took a cursory glance at the six renegades holding their positions a short distance from the dais. “On my order, lower your barrier sphere.” She shifted her focus skyward. “I will take care of our friend in the air, while you handle the remnants of the Conclave.”

  “Wait!” blurted Kenit. The suggested course of action was uttered in such a matter-of-fact manner he felt guilty that he was about to put a dent in it. “I don’t think I can defeat all six by myself.”

  “Then reduce the number you have to face.”

  Again, Fay’s response was so matter-of-fact he felt silly for having to ask,

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  Another volley of incendiary orbs struck Kenit’s barrier sphere, followed immediately by another lightning strike.

  “Just make use of the environment to help you.”

  Fay looked past Kenit, focussing on the nearby renegades.

  “You see the two skirting to the left? They are both close enough to the remnants of that wall. Should it collapse…” she said suggestively, “you’d be left with just four men to overcome.”

  Kenit was about to voice his concern about his ability to take on ‘just’ four renegade Sanatsai, when Fay barked out the order to bring down his barrier sphere. Without thinking, he neutralised the translucent bubble then thrust out a hand, invoking Yuksaydan to bring the aforementioned stone wall crashing down upon the two unsuspecting renegades. There was no hesitation or doubt when he jumped from the dais, and charged towards the remaining group of four, with sword in hand. As he closed the gap between himself and his opponents the ground beneath the renegades erupted, knocking them off their feet. He took full advantage of what he assumed was Fay’s handiwork, stabbing the first assailant in the chest as he lay prone on the ground. He did likewise to a second before cutting down a third as he was rising to his feet. The fourth man was able to get up and retrieve his weapon just in time to defend himself. Kenit now had more favourable odds to contend with—it was one on one, to the death.

  His initial attack was parried easily, but as he and his opponent faced off, slowly circling each other and waiting for an opening, he noticed the other man’s sword arm trembling. And the look on his face made it clear the renegade Sanatsai was just as fearful as he was, if not more so. This boosted Kenit’s confidence. He suddenly believed that he could, and would, prevail. Launching into another furious attack, striking high then low, he endeavoured to press home the advantage he felt he had over his opposition. The renegade was able to fend him off for a short while but wasn’t able to counter-attack. All of a sudden, with a flourish, Kenit disarmed the renegade, sending his sword flying away. His opponent barely had time to look surprised as he followed up immediately with a lethal slash across the chest.

  Time seemed to slow down as Kenit watched the renegade Sanatsai keel over, falling dead at his feet. Blood began to seep from the savage gash he’d inflicted, but he was given no time at all to crow about his decisive victory. His attention was drawn by the sounds of Zarantar-fuelled conflict in the air, some distance behind him. He spun around sharply, looking upwards just in time to catch sight of the Saharbashi dropping like a stone to the ground, while Fay descended slowly in his wake.

  Kenit looked on as the Saharbashi gingerly got up off the floor. He was bemused when the man, rather than stand his ground and fight,
slowly began to hobble away towards the trees at the northern edge of the ruins. Unsurprisingly, he did not get very far. The moment Fay reached the ground she thrust out a hand, invoking Yuksaydan to seize hold of the fleeing man and lift him off his feet. Kenit couldn’t help but be amused at the sight of the enemy being comically flipped several times in the air before Fay finally brought his humiliation to an end, dumping him harshly face down on the ground.

  For a moment Kenit stood rooted to the spot as he observed Fay marching towards her fallen foe, presumably to finish him off for good. As she closed the gap between herself and her prey, Kenit suddenly decided he wanted to witness the demise of the dreaded Saharbashi, up close and personal. He advanced across the ruins of the temple complex towards Fay’s position as she moved in for the kill.

  The defeated Saharbashi slowly rise to his feet to meet Fay, but as she stopped in front of him, he dropped to his knees. Though Kenit could see Fay had both hands clasped behind her back, he could tell from the strained grimace on the man’s face he was being forcibly held down, immobile, by the strength of Fay’s invocation of Yuksaydan. As he drew closer to the pair, Fay thrust out a hand to the side, and suddenly her sword—lying discarded some eighty yards away—flew speedily through the air, directly into her waiting grasp.

  When Kenit reached Fay’s side, she was holding the tip of her blade beneath the chin of the Saharbashi. The defeated man was uttering a desperate refrain.

  “Have mercy! Have mercy! Have mercy!”

  But the expression on Fay’s face made it abundantly clear she had no intention of obliging his request.

  “Kai Darbandian,” said Fay, addressing Kenit without tearing her eyes from her captive, “take a look at what you were so afraid of. Do you see how he cowers before us, pleading for the mercy he would never show to others?”

  He had to admit the man did look and sound pathetic. It was hard to believe this same individual had inspired such terror in him only a short while earlier.

  “It was my responsibility to kill him,” continued Fay, “but he would have lived had you not come back for me.”

  Finally she averted her eyes from the Saharbashi, to peer intently at Kenit.

  “So, would you like to do the honours?”

  Kenit held Fay’s gaze for a moment before staring down at their mutual enemy. While this Saharbashi may not be the man responsible for the brutal death of Marit Katarnian, he was a living embodiment of the fear Kenit had for the cult leader whom he’d crossed paths with during the ill-fated mission in the land of his birth. He could not, and would not, pass up the opportunity to eliminate that fear, once and for all.

  “It would be my privilege, Danai,” he replied.

  Standing aside, Fay allowed him to step directly in front of the condemned Saharbashi. He loomed over the man who finally fell silent. The look in his eyes showed acceptance of his fate. Kenit raised his sword, already stained with the blood of four renegades of the Conclave, gripping the hilt tightly in both hands. For Marit Katarnian, he thought. Then, with one swift, fluid swing he wielded his blade expertly to decapitate the Saharbashi. The severed head fell to the ground with a thud while the body slowly keeled over after it.

  “You did it!”

  Kenit spun around to see Tylo racing towards them.

  “I knew you could do it,” the boy cheered.

  It was somewhat disconcerting that a young adolescent could seemingly be so excited at witnessing a man being beheaded.

  “You’re supposed to be on your way back to Relona,” Kenit chided. “You shouldn’t be seeing this.”

  “Go easy on the boy,” said Fay. “He’s right, you did it.”

  “I didn’t do much. You did all the heavy lifting.”

  “Do not sell yourself short, Kai Darbandian.” Fay was smiling warmly at him. “Before today, the number of people who could lay claim to saving my life could be counted on the finger of one hand.”

  Kenit’s tension eased a little. He cast his gaze around the ruins of the temple complex, taking in the sight of all the dead renegades. While he was unable to take credit for most of the devastation—it was principally Fay’s doing—he realised that he had made a significant contribution, saving the life of the legendary Fay Annis, and striking the killing blow against a Saharbashi.

  “We did it,” he said.

  Kayden was growing increasingly frustrated and flustered as her duel with the Rogue continued unabated. Back on campus, training with wooden swords against other apprentices, it had never taken so much as five minutes for her to either land a decisive strike upon an opponent or—rather less frequently—be on the receiving end of one. But it had been at least quarter of an hour since hostilities had been initiated between herself and her black clad opponent, yet still she hadn’t managed to stain her blade with the blood of her adversary—all her attacks were parried and countered effortlessly, almost as if the Rogue knew her every move before she made it.

  She fended off another counter-attack, their blades clashing multiple times in quick succession, before another brief lull ensued while she and the Rogue circled each other again, waiting for an opening to exploit. With each passing second Kayden was becoming ever more conscious of the fact she couldn’t keep going indefinitely, her body had already taken a battering that night so she was fighting at less than a hundred per cent. If things continued as they were, the Rogue would surely wear her down and prevail. She had to do something quickly to gain the upper hand.

  The Rogue launched into another attack, striking high then low, then high again, forcing Kayden on to the back-foot. Once more, she was able to keep her adversary at bay, but it was getting harder with each new offensive. She briefly counter-attacked, without success, before another lull in the duel ensued. As she began to circle her opponent, yet again, she caught sight of a clump of turf torn up from the ground during her initial confrontation with the Rogue. Now was the right time to engineer an advantage. She invoked Yuksaydan to seize hold of the clump of turf and propel it towards the Rogue’s head before causing it to erupt into tiny little pieces, spraying dirt into the face of the hooded figure.

  Kayden charged forward seeking to take full advantage of the sneak attack. She thrust her blade at her opponent, aiming for the heart, but the Rogue promptly sidestepped out of the way, delivering a slashing cut to the top of her left arm as she breezed past. She let out an involuntary yelp then quickly spun around to face her foe, now standing motionless in a two-handed stance. Briefly, she took her eyes off her adversary to peek down at her upper arm. Though the injury was superficial, the Rogue had drawn first blood.

  “Was it not you who desired a Zarantar free level playing field?” said the Rogue.

  Although the question was asked in the same androgynous monotone, Kayden felt certain she detected mockery in the voice of her assailant.

  “I lied, you son-of-a-bitch!” she snapped, angrily. “If I have to cheat to kill you, I will.”

  Letting out a shrill battle cry, she dashed forward again, back on the offensive. She slashed furiously at the Rogue, her blistering attack unrelenting as she sought to overwhelm the defences of her hooded adversary. But once more, despite the ferocity of her onslaught, the Rogue was effortlessly able to parry every attack, as if possessing foreknowledge of every move she made.

  As she started to tire, Kayden began to feel disheartened; there seemed to be no way through the defences of her implacable foe. She was about to ease off a little when an opening presented itself. She swung her blade at the Rogue’s exposed neck, intent on separating head from shoulders.

  The sword sliced through thin air as the Rogue disappeared in the blink of an eye. But there was no time to be shocked or paralysed by fear; she felt Zarantar behind her, and with it the sense of imminent danger. She spun around swiftly to be greeted by the sight of the Rogue’s sword flashing down at her skull. She raised her own blade just in time to block the fatal blow, but there was nothing she could do about the kick that followed, landi
ng square against her chest, knocking her to the ground.

  “I can cheat too,” said the Rogue, no hint of triumph in the emotionless voice.

  Lying on her back, Kayden’s heart was racing. Whatever her opponent had just done could not have been the invocation of Raytandushay to become invisible; it was something else entirely. One moment the Rogue was standing before her, about to be cut down by her blade, the next moment the hooded figure was right behind her, ready to land a killing blow upon her. If not for her ability to sense Zarantar she knew she would be dead. Her gamble in seeking an unfair advantage had ironically put her at a disadvantage.

  She scrambled back on to her feet and stood on guard, her sword gripped tightly in both hands.

  “It seems you’re no better at cheating than I am,” she taunted, “I’m still alive.”

  “For now.”

  The Rogue lurched forwards, initiating hostilities once more.

  Kayden evaded and parried a succession of slashing and stabbing attacks from her opponent before counter-attacking. Again, the Rogue disappeared in the blink of an eye to escape her blade, and yet again she felt the tell-tale Zarantar that alerted her to the imminent threat from behind. She spun around in time to deflect the thrust blade bound for her chest that would have run her through, between the shoulder blades, had she not turned around. She back-pedalled several paces to put a little distance between herself and her attacker. The brief lull in combat gave her just enough time to regret having violated the no Zarantar condition she had stipulated beforehand. She had needlessly made a difficult task even more difficult for herself; but was done was done.

  Again, Kayden charged at the Rogue, attacking high with lethal intent. Still her adversary was able to fend her off with nonchalant ease before disappearing once more—this time reappearing, almost instantly, thirty yards ahead of her, arms outstretched to the side as if to say, ‘I’m over here! What are you waiting for?’