Just as Aziel was about to say something, waves of heat began to rush outward from Adara, and tiny sparks and flames flashed along her wings. “I will not allow that man near my daughter,” she said fiercely as she turned back to face Aziel. “You… you can help me stop him.”
For the third time in this conversation, Aziel was taken aback. “What is it you expect me to do?” he asked, eventually. If what she said was true, then the entire Jannatin-Maiv conflict was being fueled by a relationship that had soured. “I am sorry for the hardship you face, but I don’t see what role you think I can play. Nor do I see any reason to do so, even if I could.”
“You can go to war, and liberate Maiv,” Adara said. She didn’t even pause before speaking, as if taking Maiv’s side was a given.
Aziel hesitated. “I realize you might be feeling trapped and unable to act. But I will not send my people to fight such a war.”
Adara smiled. “I am not naïve, Aziel.” She reached for a pouch at her hip that Aziel had not noticed and pulled out a large scroll, its size confirming the pouch to be a dimensional bag. She stepped closer to him, offering him the scroll. Though they did not touch, the air around her was noticeably warmer than elsewhere. Aziel accepted the scroll and rolled it open.
He went through the beautifully written sentences and terms, and with every line, his eyes grew wider.
“Neither the Faction Leader nor the Viceroy has marked this,” he said at last. “You are offering something you cannot give.”
“A faction stands on two pillars. If one pillar cracks, it is up to the other to hold up the whole. With the Faction Leader and Viceroy in enemy hands, I as the Prime Divinity of Maiv have full authority over the faction.”
Aziel rolled up the scroll. “You didn’t send Lucienne here to be safe,” he said sharply. He had known Adara was likely to be dangerous, but to have manipulated the princess in order to take control over the faction of Maiv was another level of deception. This was a coup.
“Do not take my action to be without empathy. Lucienne is being hunted by the Black Coats. If not for me sending her here, she would be dead already.” Adara turned away from him and reached for her lance, still embedded in the rock. “But I also know when a battle is lost. The princess and her father would rather die upon the altar of Maiv’s independence than give in to the Jannatins. I, however, find bloody altars an eyesore. Think over my offer, Aziel. It is a chance for the Fallen to grow to a regional power if taken advantage of. We fire Ascended should stick together, if possible.”
Aziel held back a smile at that. It was actually refreshing to meet someone who knew so little of him. Even though he was certain she must have noticed his Soul Screen, Adara appeared to be operating on information gleaned from the episode at Whiteridge, meaning his ability to use other mana types was yet to become common knowledge.
Then it struck him. Adara knew almost nothing about him—and yet… He glanced down at the scroll.
“Why do you trust me with this?” he asked.
Adara withdrew her lance from the rock, a jet of flame erupting from it as she did. She looked back over her shoulder at him, almost coquettishly. “I don’t. But as you no doubt have already surmised, desperate times call for reckless and possibly ill-advised measures.”
As the last word escaped her lips, Adara unfurled her great wings and suddenly leapt at Aziel.
He took an immediate step back—but she was fast, faster than him. He didn’t even have a chance to use his newly acquired Light-Footed skill before Adara had gripped the collar of his shirt and proceeded to use her whole momentum to slam her head into his.
There was a crack, and Aziel’s vision went white. He staggered back, his head pulsing in pain as he caught himself before falling onto his back. “You—” he tried to say as he prepared to weave a spell. But Adara didn’t follow up her attack. Instead, she was now a few feet in the air above him, a wide grin on her face as she rubbed her forehead.
“A simple repayment of debt,” she stated as she beat her wings to increase the distance between them. “Or did you think I would forget your destruction of my shrine in Whiteridge? Losing one is quite painful, you know.”
“Lord Aziel,” a feminine voice called from behind him. Two Dryads of the Crimson Grove had reached the outcropping and now held their weapons at the ready as they assessed the situation. Aziel could sense a grouping of Grauda a few steps behind them.
He raised a hand to stop them from attacking Adara—not that she seemed concerned by their presence. She kept her eyes on Aziel alone.
“Do call on me when you make a decision,” she said, and then she was consumed by fire, the flames expanding and roaring white-hot as Aziel was quickly forced to weave a Soul Screen around himself and the Dryads to avoid all of them being scorched.
When the fire had died down, Adara was back in her true form. The massive red-and-black feathered Phoenix looking down at them, staring at the gray translucent screen he had weaved, studying it. But she said nothing, she instead let out a loud but musical cry before shooting up into the sky at an incredible speed, disappearing behind the clouds.
Aziel dissolved his Soul Screen as he was left staring at the clouds… before noticing a long and familiar-looking feather glide lazily down to land at his feet. He shook his head and smiled as he picked it up. There appeared to be quite a lot to discuss at the first Conclave. First the Tijarii offer, and now this.
He looked at the Dryads, who had been joined by the Grauda. “I am fine, there is no need to worry,” he reassured them as he stepped past them and began to descend the mountain.
Before any such decisions could be made, he had a duel to attend.
Chapter 29
A cacophony of roars filled the air as the Ogre’i made their presence known all around the square before the Conclave.
“My king,” Astrel said as she stepped forward from between Celia and Niyela and offered him a blade. “We tried to make it as close to the sword you use, but…” She grimaced as Aziel examined it. “… we Grauda are not skilled in metals. The humans were able to fix our mistakes in time.”
She looked down, ashamed and uncomfortable. Aziel held out a hand to cup her chin, lifting it so she would look at him.
“I know having humans here is difficult for you, Astrel, but we are all Fallen now. One people, one faction. I am proud that you found it in yourself to ask for their help.”
Astrel met his gaze, and he could see her fighting back a smile before she nodded.
Withdrawing his hand, he took the blade and pointed the tip forward, examining its length. It had a slight curve to it, and the weight was a little unbalanced, but it was otherwise well made, especially given the time and equipment constraints. It was a testament to the wealth of the stores in Soul’s Rest that there had not been a single sword there without some kind of enchantment attached to it.
He had asked Astrel to forge a blade before the humans arrived. Now that they were here, it would have been easier to borrow one of their blades, but he knew the effort the Grauda had already put into the sword. The fact Astrel had approached the humans for help, and received it, was a pleasant and much welcomed development.
“It will do, thank you Astrel,” he said, and the Grauda queen bowed before turning to leave what was about to become the dueling ground. Rejoining the crowd of other races of the Fallen who stood opposite the Ogre’i to witness his fight.
“You can still annul this fight,” Niyela said as soon as Astrel was out of earshot. Insistently, she moved from his side to face him.
“It is the best way—maybe the only way—to get the Ogre’i to join the Fallen,” Aziel replied.
Niyela sighed. “It’s hard to protect you if you go on meeting dangerous people alone in the night and insist on such dangerous duels,” she said before taking his hand to kiss his palm. News of Aziel’s meeting with Adara had spread by now, but he had spoken to no one about what they had discussed. The Dryad let out a soft breath before letting go.
“Be safe, Grove Master,” she said, then turned and followed after Astrel.
It was now Celia’s turn, and she went over his armor attentively, her hands pulling and checking on every strap. “I’m still amazed you two haven’t been together yet,” Celia said before running her hand over his leather brigandine. “Hmm. Better than being naked, I suppose.”
Aziel smiled. “If she wishes to wait, it is her decision. As for the armor…” He looked down to examine himself. “I would have preferred to fight without it. Not even the Emperor’s Suit could do anything to stop that.” He nodded to the sight taking place behind Celia.
She turned, and they both watched as Kavali pushed herself through the crowd of Ogre’i. Even amongst her kin, her size was menacing. She held her massive maul in one hand, while a thick metal chain was wrapped around the other.
Kavali roared, lifting her maul high into the sky, and the whole mass of Ogre’i responded in kind. Both male and female Ogre’i slammed their chests and stomped their feet as they chanted some kind of pre-battle chorus. Neruul stepped out from behind Kavali and shuffled his way toward Aziel.
Celia let out a nervous giggle before coughing to stop herself. “I would say you should use some kind of long-range weapon to soften her up, but equipping you with a ballista might be difficult.”
Aziel laughed, and Celia laughed along with him. “Well at least you’re confident,” she remarked as she leaned in for a kiss. “Listen, you’re not allowed to get hurt,” she said seriously, her eyes gazing straight into his.
“I will do my best,” he replied.
“Good, because I haven’t gotten bored of you yet.” Celia took a step back. “You also haven’t told me about your secret meeting with Adara in the dead of night. If I were the jealous type, I might have been concerned,” she tossed back at him as she turned and walked to the edge of the square.
Aziel shook his head at her words just as Neruul finally reached him.
“Young Master,” the ancient Ogre’i said, a wide grin on his face.
Aziel kept his expression neutral. “Neruul, I see you’ve returned.”
“I have, and I brought many of the Ogre’i with me, including the two other khans.” He glanced away, and Aziel followed his gaze to see two large Ogre’i males watching him with interest.
“End it quickly and decisively if you can. If not, then do put on a good show,” Neruul advised, leaning heavily on his staff. “The Ogre’i respect strength and honor above all else. Beating Kavali, their greatest khan, will give you legitimacy. Just don’t revel in her defeat. She is still a woman in many of the Ogre’i’s eyes.”
Aziel glanced at the Ogre’i crowds. There were hundreds of them now. And all of them, both male and female, looked as if they lived to bulk up their frames. “You speak as if the women of your race can’t take care of themselves.”
Neruul sported a wide and toothy grin. “It wasn’t too long ago that Ogre’i women were only expected to take care of the children and to labor at home. Kavali’s warrior spirit couldn’t accept it, so she challenged it and changed us all.”
“I see,” Aziel replied. He would not have guessed that the Ogre’i had once had such gender roles. Some of the female Ogre’i roaring in the background looked more intimidating than their male counterparts. Kavali herself looked like someone bred to be a pure weapon of war, an image only hampered by her piercing blue eyes and soft facial features. Those two aspects did not seem to matter at this moment, however, not when she was walking toward him with a maul so large and heavy it may as well have been a battering ram. The thuds of her footsteps grew louder as she drew closer, and Aziel found he slowly had to raise his head to maintain eye contact with her.
“Kavali,” he said.
“Nanatheel,” she replied with a smile.
“The rules of this duel are simple,” Neruul stated formally as he stood between them. “No weaving.” He looked at Aziel. “No Berserker.” He looked at Kavali. “And no enchantments, so if you have enchanted items on you, discard them now.” He waited for a few moments and when neither Aziel or Kavali moved, he continued.
“The stakes are as follows. If Aziel is victorious, Kavali has promised to join the Fallen along with her clan. The Young Master has agreed to serve Khan Kavali as her personal servant if she is to win. The fight will continue until one side submits, or if I determine their injuries to be grave enough. Is there any objection?”
Kavali shook her head. Aziel, however, had one question. “What about death?”
“I will hopefully determine a victor before then, but death is a truth of every true and honorable battle,” Neruul answered.
When he saw that no other questions were forthcoming, Neruul nodded. “You may take your positions. The fight begins on my mark.” The old Ogre’i turned and slowly made his way to the edge of the square.
Kavali and Aziel did not move. They stared at one another for a long moment, until the giantess smiled and offered Aziel her open palm facing up. “We, fight good,” she said.
Aziel smiled back and placed his much smaller hand atop hers. “I wish you luck, Kavali,” he said before he turned and took his position on one side of the packed-dirt square. From the heavy sounds of footsteps behind him, Kavali did the same.
When he reached his mark, he turned and faced her again, noticing her smile had become even wider. The thick metal chains she had wrapped around her right arm were now held loosely by one end, with a thick frightening hook he had not seen before attached to the other, while her maul was planted firmly on the ground.
The clearing fell silent as everyone focused intently on himself and Kavali, the rattling of her chain and the quiet singsong of a few curious birds the only sounds accompanying the suddenly tense situation.
The two opponents in turn watched Neruul as he stood beneath the shadow of the Conclave. Jar, the other Ogre’i Aziel had met atop the ruined fort in Whiteridge, stood at his side as Neruul held his hand high in the air.
As his hand began its decent to mark the start of the fight, Aziel was already focusing inward. The mana which usually circulated around his body equally rushed to his legs and feet, infusing every muscle and bone until he tingled from the waist down. Aziel had never had this much control over how his mana flowed within him, but now all he had to do was think of his Light-Footed skill and his body reacted on its own.
“Begin!” he heard Neruul shout, just as his hand reached his side. Kavali roared and tossed the chain forward. The sharp hook cut through the air between them, but Aziel was already on the move. He sprinted toward her, easily side-stepping the chain as the world seemed to slow down around him. It was as if he were stepping on air, the ground offering little resistance to his movement.
Aziel grinned; this fight was as good as done if he could reach his opponent. He raised his blade and activated his second skill, Power Strike. Mana rushed from his vessel and into his arms as he swung his blade.
The sword connected with Kavali’s upper right thigh, and the blade sank into her skin and flesh with ease… But then shockwaves from the blow ran up through Aziel’s arm and shoulder, and he was thrown to one side, his momentum sending him rolling and tumbling across the ground.
Finally reaching a standstill, Aziel groaned. His entire body ached. The mana his skills had used to infuse his legs and arms had dispersed, and all that was left was a deep numbness. His muscles were now struggling to work as normal without the powerful boost the mana had offered them.
Around him, the crowd of spectators were silent as Kavali let out a series of long and agonizing cries. Aziel’s Soul Rejuvenation got to work, and he was able to pick himself up and turn to watch the Ogre’i khan struggle to get to one knee. Her right leg and the ground under it were covered in blood, while the leg itself was almost completely amputated. Her bone was clearly visible, and the metallic shards which had once been his sword were embedded in the skin of her thigh.
Aziel looked down at his sword. All that was left was the hilt and a
small stub of the blade. The force behind his swing against her dense bone had shattered his blade.
Kavali roared, and Aziel looked up just in time to duck under another toss of her chain. Large drops of sweat dripped down her blue skin as she glared at Aziel. Even with such a grievous wound, there was no surrender in her eyes.
That, however, was only part of the problem.
Her wound was healing before his very eyes; the process was slow, the wound still bleeding heavily, but fast enough that her bone was already no longer visible. For a moment, Aziel was dumbfounded.
What was he supposed to do now? He had no weapon.
Kavali grunted, her biceps bulging as she pushed herself up with the help of her maul. As she did, her already wavering right leg began to tremble violently as the blood which had been falling from the wound instead began to spurt wildly. At first, the Ogre’i tried to pick up her massive maul. But after a few attempts, it became clear that she had lost too much strength to do so. Kavali growled as her eyes fixed upon Aziel, her vision growing more distant the longer she struggled.
“Even with your body’s ability to regenerate, you will bleed to death,” Aziel said as he slowly walked toward her. His words—which he hoped would bring forth a surrender from the Ogre’i—only had the opposite effect. Kavali’s face contorted in anger, before she hurled the chain again. Aziel side-stepped once more, then charged at her. He contemplated using his martial skills again, but from the deep ache his muscles were still experiencing, he suspected it might be too early to do so.
No matter—there was another way to gain the speed and momentum he needed. Just as Kavali yanked back her chain to attempt to try again, Aziel grabbed it and the strength of her pull propelled him forward. The Ogre’i’s eyes opened wide—then winced as Aziel smashed his elbow into her chest before punching upward into her chin.
Fallen Ambitions Page 48