Chapter 28

The clashing of metalvines rang out across the sandy practice square. There was a strange, but beautiful rhythm to the violence. It was the song of conquest. Conquest of self. Conquest of the opponent, but most of all, conquest over weakness.

Kestrel jabbed at Aris’ face with his weapon and the General raised his stick to parry it, falling for his faint. With a flick of the wrist, the metalvine’s trajectory twisted and looped around to Aris’s exposed ribcage.

Aris smiled and Kestrel grimaced. The General had anticipated his movement and stepped in and trapped the attacking hand to his side. He then grabbed Kestrel’s neck with his opposite hand, twisted, slid his hips under Kestrel’s, and launched him over his shoulder.

Kestrel landed on the ground with a dampened thud.

“Good job. You’re getting much better,” Aris smiled at Kestrel, reaching down to help him up. “You actually surprised me with that last feint. If it were anyone else, you probably would have had them.”

“But I didn’t get you,” he replied.

“No you didn’t.”

“It was my arm, I led with my arm and not my hips.” Kestrel thought.

“You’re still relying on your arms too much though. If you had remembered to use your hips properly and gotten your feet underneath you in time, you would’ve had me, but your arms signaled what you were doing and I was able to catch you,” Aris explained as if he’d read the young man’s mind. “Now let’s try again.”

Kestrel rushed at Aris and launched into a series of furious attacks which the general defended. Aris then answered back with his own overwhelming salvo that tested the defense he had been drilling into the orphan.

To Aris’ delight, Kestrel was able to ward off the majority of his blows. The boy was a natural. He had advanced leaps and bounds from when Aris had first started tutoring the young man in the martial art of Falis.

Kestrel fought like he’d been born into it.

After a couple seconds to catch their breath, they reengaged and Kestrel surprised Aris by patiently waiting to counter instead of rushing in as was his habit.

For nearly a minute they sized each other up, only exchanging half hearted blows meant to apprize the other’s defense. Aris, curious about the sudden change in tactics from his stubborn student purposefully provided many openings that Kestrel could’ve used to his advantage, but still brown haired young man sat back, only questing forward with the occasional jab or swipe with his metalvine.

Aris noticed that Kestrel’s lead hand kept dropping as they circled each other, he suspected that Kestrel was trying to set a trap and lure him into a false sense of security —something a battle hardened veteran like Aris would never have— but despite himself, his curiosity overwhelmed him and he stepped forward with a looping strike aimed at the side of Kestrel’s head to see how the young man would react.

The moment Aris’s arm started moving, Kestrel’s feet shifted, his positioning reversed. Simultaneously Kestrel used momentum shift to drive forward, sliding his rear leg behind Aris’ weight bearing leg and caught Aris in the crook of his rear arm that he threw downwards in an arc propelled by his twisting hips.

The next thing he knew, Aris was on the ground and Kestrel was standing over him with a triumphant look upon his face.

The boy really was improving.

Aris nodded an affirmation to the young man and was in the process of standing up when a vision froze him.

*****

The courtyard disappeared from Aris’s field of vision and his consciousness shifted to the halls of the the Imperial keep.

He saw himself sneaking through the servants corridors, a nervous feeling overwhelmed him. Everything was going according to plan and that made him uncomfortable. Sneaking in to assassinate an emperor shouldn’t be easy and it was just that.

Easy.

Too easy.

Still they pressed forward.

It had to be a trap.

It wasn’t long before Dren’s fears were confirmed. Somehow those in charge of guarding the castle, which included Aris Ravenscroft, the mongrel brother of his now long dead best friend Van, had became aware of his plan and had set a trap for them.

They had waited until they were in a tight corridor and then rushed them.

He had watched as his friends fell to the guards Kukri swords one by one, leaving only Kelrian and Wilford, the older soldier, the latter of which was admirably still standing despite the myriad of cuts he’d taken in the battle.

Dren didn’t know how, but the graying soldier had torn enough of a path through the guards that it’d given him a chance to break through and barrel down the servants corridors towards the Emperor’s chambers.

He gasped for breath as he ran, Dren knew he had taken a mortal wound in the battle, but he would keep pushing forward until his last breath.

A sudden avalanche of horrific memories drove him to his knees.

He knew that could only signal one thing. The presence of the Emperors secret enforcers, The Inquisitors.

It was then that he knew that his mission had failed and he really would die.

Dren wanted to cry out to them that they were killing the one person who was trying to redeem them from the monsters that they had been turned into by the man they were protecting, but, between the mental onslaught and the physical beatings from the Inquisitors, it was all he could do to just stay alive.

The last thing he remembered before everything faded to black was an utter feeling of dismay, knowing that his last ditch attempt to transfer his memories to one of the Inquisitors had completely failed.

With him, the hope of reclaiming their country died.

*****

Aris didn’t slam back into consciousness, but slowly eased back into it, as if drifting from slumber into a state of wakefulness.

When his senses returned to him, Aris was glad that there was only Kestrel and Wallace in the courtyard with him.

He had done his best to keep these disturbing visions a secret. Even if he wasn’t sure if he believe them or not, just reciting their content flirted with treason. He hadn’t even told his wife Corrine of what he had been seeing out of fear for her safety.

How would Aris' soldiers, or worse, his enemies, react if it was somehow leaked that the General in charge of Fiell’s city guard force was having delusional visions of the Emperor he had became a hero in the act of saving?

His life and the lives of his family would be torn apart in a flash.

“Are you okay? You completely froze on me for about ten seconds. It was kinda unsettling,” Kestrel said as he offered an outstretched arm to Aris.

The young man played off the situation as if nothing had happened, but Aris could see something deep in Kestrel’s eyes.

There was a mixture of recognition and fear in them.

Kestrel glanced towards Wallace, who’d shifted from his usual relaxed but wary posture into one of enrapt attentiveness. Not a word was said between the two, but the conversation that passed between their eyes spoke volumes.

Whatever was happening to him, Kestrel, and more importantly, Wallace, had knowledge of it.

Just what exactly had brought those two together?

What was their connection really?