Chapter 227: The Shield & Snake

Stryg walked through the empty streets of the Scholar District in the early hours of morning. He made his way to the private training courtyard Elzri had arranged for him. Gian and Gale would usually arrive at dawn for sword training, which meant he still had about an hour.

Stryg unlocked the courtyard’s gate, stepped onto the polished slate tiles, and took a deep breath of fresh air. It had been a difficult night, sleep kept eluding him, and nightmares seemed to plague him every time he laid down to rest.

He unsheathed Nameless and readied himself for his morning sword routine. The courtyard’s gate creaked open. Stryg spun around and pointed his blade at the gate.

A look of surprise crossed his face. He lowered Nameless, “Lysaila?”

The lamia stood in the gateway. A long black cloak hid her features well, but it did nothing to hide the long azure tail that slithered underneath.

“What are you doing here?” Stryg asked.

Lysaila looked around, at the black tiled floor, the dark sky, the brick walls, everywhere but at Stryg. “...I was… making sure you weren’t dead,” she mumbled.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Stryg frowned.

“I’d rather be in bed than here,” she hissed. “...But you were screaming, a lot more than usual. You sounded in pain…”

The nightmares? Stryg thought. He suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious.

“Then you told Feli you were going to get some water, but you didn’t. You left with your sword.” Lysaila groaned, “I thought you might be in danger, so I followed you.”

“Sometimes I forget I’m not the only one at home with sensitive hearing,” he muttered.

“Believe me, if it was up to me I would have ignored all this shit and gone back to sleep,” she crossed her arms. “But the Prime Edict wouldn’t let me fall asleep without making sure your dumbass was okay.”

Stryg narrowed his eyes, “You fu-”

“So are you okay or not?”

He blinked, “...What?”

She sighed loudly, “Are you okay?”

“...No one’s coming to kill me if that’s what you mean.”

“Obviously, I’m here. But are you okay?” She pointed at her ears, “You’re not the first person I’ve heard scream like that when they sleep. In the Amber Realm, there are many dragons in the jungle my people live in… The dragons are cruel, they hunt us for sport. It doesn’t matter what we look like, beast-kin or not, everyone dies just the same. We know what it is like to lose the ones we love. You are not alone in this pain.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked carefully.

For a brief moment, there was compassion in her eyes, then it was smothered away. “Because I want to go to sleep! So next time you have a stupid nightmare, how about you don’t go off in the middle of the night with your sword!”

Lysaila looked out at the streaks of light coming over the horizon, “…If you need to talk and you're afraid of opening up to the purple-haired one, you can vent to me. I won’t coddle you or try to help, but at least I won’t judge you for your weaknesses and insecurities. Plus, it’s not like I can tell anyone about your embarrassing secrets.” She pointed at her heart, “The Prime Edict and all. Or you know, you can just stop screaming and let the rest of us get some sleep for once.”

“I see…” Stryg nodded slowly.

The lamia seemed nicer than usual, which was strange because she was never nice. At least not to him. He grimly wondered if the Prime Edict’s effects were growing.

“So are you okay then?” Lysaila asked, annoyance clear in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He pointed at Nameless, “I’m just here for some morning sword practice.”

“Okay. I’m going back to bed then…” she yawned and turned to the gate. Lysaila suddenly stiffened.

“What is it?” Stryg asked.

“...It’s been a while since I’ve left the apartments. I don’t know the way back…” she said sheepishly.

“...I understand,” he said sympathetically. “When I first arrived in Hollow Shade I had a difficult time finding anything, even just in the academy grounds. When I became Loh’s apprentice she used to send me on errands all the time, I got lost often.”

“Yeah, this city really sucks,” she groaned.

“...Do you miss the jungles of your Realm?”

She shook her head, “No, not at all. I miss the people.”

“Is that so…?” he muttered. He wondered if the Blood Fang Tribe missed him. “After practice, I can show you the way back.”

“Goodbye sleep,” she mumbled and hung her head.

Stryg chuckled under his breath and fell into a basic sword stance. He spread his legs apart and swung his blade in quick thrust and followed up with short swings.

Lysaila rolled her shoulders, threw off her cloak, and pulled out her curved single-edged longsword.

“You brought your sword?” Stryg asked.

“I thought you were in danger. What? Did you want me to protect you with a stick?” she rolled her eyes.

“Hm. Fair enough,” he shrugged.

Lysaila narrowed her eyes and swung her sword in the air in a rapid pattern. Stryg stopped mid-way in his sword-forms and simply stared. Her blade was a shimmer in the morning light. Her entire body moved with each attack, the azure tail lunging back and forth, extending her reach in swift fluid motions.

Lysaila caught Stryg staring and paused, “What? Aren’t you going to practice too?”

Stryg shook his head and cleared his throat, “Um, it’s just… I never really noticed your sword-forms before. It’s different from what I’m used to. The Gale style is about a strong, precise defense and sometimes offense. But your’s felt almost… alive, I guess?”

Lysaila ran her finger across the dull-edge of her blade. “The sword style was originally created for lamia-kind by the Mortem Order. After all, we were conceived to be warriors; soldiers for the Mortem’s army. That’s all we ever were to you people, weapons…”

The courtyard’s gate swung open with a loud creak. Stryg and Lysaila turned simultaneously. Gale and Gian stood at the gate, staring at Lysaila.

Gale drew her longsword, “Stryg! Why the hell is there a lamia holding a sword in front of me?”

“What’s the matter, little vampire? Afraid?” Lysaila licked her lips.

“I’ll show you afraid!” Gale gripped her hilt.

Stryg raised his hands and stepped in between them, “Wait! I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can,” Gian smiled softly. “This must be the lamia you’ve mentioned?”

Stryg nodded, “Yes. This is Lysaila, my roommate.”

“Magically compelled servant,” Lysaila corrected angrily.

“Prisoner,” Stryg said. “She is a prisoner of Hollow Shade. And Lord Elzri made me her warden, until further notice.”

“I am Gian of House Gale. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, young one.”

“I am Gale VIII of House Gale.” She sheathed her blade, “So you’re the one we captured from the Cairn Tribe? I’ve never seen a lamia in person before.”

“And I’ve never seen a girl who has two names but really only one,” Lysaila said.

“It is an honor to be named after my House’s founder,” Gale glared.

“Oh? Is someone angry?” Lysaila batted her eyelashes.

“What is she doing here, Stryg?” Gale asked, peeved.

“Um, she came to check up on me,” he said.

“Is that why you have your sword out?” Gale asked. “I thought your kind was more of a fang and venom type?”

“Jealous?” Lysaila bared her fangs, a drop of black venom dripping from each.

“Lamia venom is very potent and very rare. Best to be careful, Gale,” Gian said serenely.

“You should listen to the old man,” Lysaila smirked.

“Don’t you dare call him old,” Gale drew her blade once more.

“What are you going to do? Attack me?” Lysaila said eagerly.

“Gale is a grand swordmaster,” Stryg warned.

“So am I,” Lysaila said.

Gale chuckled, “Somehow I doubt that very much, Cairn savage.”

“Savage, is it?” Lysaila clicked her tongue.

Gian clapped his hands, “Let’s make a spar of it then.”

“Are you sure about this?” Stryg asked.

“Positive. This will be an excellent chance for Gale to demonstrate our style’s Nature Stances,” Gian said. “Oh, and Gale, no magic allowed.”

“Fair enough,” Gale shrugged.

Stryg glanced at the blue lamia, “No venom. And don’t use your illusion artifact.”

“No need,” Lysaila smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had fun.”

“Trust me, you’re not having any today.” Gale dashed forward and channeled her lifeforce into a single thrust, the steel stance.

Lysaila’s eyes widened, her instincts screamed to dodge, not block. Her tail sprang like a coil, she dashed to the side, avoiding the thrust. Gale’s sword pierced the ground, the slate tile shattered in a perfect circle, 3 inches wide and twice as deep.

Gale pulled her sword out from the ground, but Lysaila was already behind her. The lamia swung her blade at Gale’s shoulder without hesitation.

Gale channeled her lifeforce into her sword’s edge and fell into the flame stance. She flipped her blade up in a backswing and clashed with the lamia’s sword. Sparks exploded from Gale’s sword in a flare of heat, but there was no fire.

Lysaila’s tail lashed out, Gale swung down, the azure scales reverberated, and did not crack. Gale’s sword slid right off the scales to her surprise. The tail cracked back and slammed into Gale’s ribs. The vampire flew up in the air and landed with a crash on the other side of the courtyard. Gale held her broken ribs with a groan.

Gian grabbed Stryg’s shoulder. “Look closely,” he whispered. “Gale made a mistake. The moment the fight started she went on the offense. Our sword style is primarily meant for defense, we wait for our enemies to attack us first.”

Lysaila’s tail coiled and jumped like a spring. She flew through the air in a spin, her blade spiraling out with death. Gale gritted her teeth and jumped to her feet and entered the cascade stance. Her blade met the lamia’s slash for slash, blocking each of the beast-kin’s attacks and countering with her own. Lysaila’s tail blocked each strike, her scales reverberating with each blow.

“It seems Gale’s finally falling into a defensive rhythm, good,” Gian nodded.

Stryg watched the fight with rising interest, “Lysaila’s stronger than I remembered. Her tail is like another sword.”

“Yes, stronger even,” Gian nodded. “She’s strengthening her scales with lifeforce. Gale can’t cut her tail, not even with an enchanted blade and a lifeforce-enhanced edge.”

Stryg frowned and stared at his hands. “Back at Castle Mora, I cracked her scales with my claws.”

“Your claws aren’t as sharp as Gale’s enchanted blade,” Gian noted.

“Then how did I…?”

“It seems someone was holding back,” Gian said. “Although not anymore.”

Gale jumped back from Lysaila and eyed her warily. The lamia slithered around her opponent. Gale pulled her blade back and closed her eyes, the air began to shimmer around her.

“Is that a Nature Stance?” Stryg asked.

“No, that’s something much more advanced,” Gian said watchfully.

“You think that will stop me, little vampiress?” Lysaila hissed. A dark purple sheen swam down her blade and pulled around the curled edge.

Gian clapped his hands loudly, “Okay, that’s enough sparring for now you two.”

Gale opened her eyes, a soft blue glow echoed around her entire being. She glared at Lysaila, “I am the Shield of Veres. Be it monster or man, here I stand proud and I shall not falter.”

Lysaila dashed in, her dark sword swinging down in a wide arc. Gale raised her blade above her shoulders.

Gian gripped the handle of his sword.

~~~

Lysaila opened her eyes blearily. She was on the ground, her sword a few paces from her. Her head throbbed in pain.

“What happened?” she groaned.

“I told you two to stop,” Gian said.

Lysaila pushed herself up and looked at the elder vampire, he sat on a bench at the edge of the courtyard. She glanced around the courtyard and froze, Gale lay on the ground a dozen paces away, unconscious.

Lysaila stared at Gian suspiciously, “You did this, old man?”

Gian shrugged, “You might have a concussion for a few days, but you’ll be fine. It was a good fight. It’s been a long time since my niece has had a challenge in the sparring ring. You’re quite skilled, Lysaila. I think you could be better; with the right sparring partner and a bit of practice.”

“What?” Lysaila furrowed her brow.

“Just think about it,” Gian smiled.

Stryg watched the elder vampire speak with newfound fear. He had barely seen Gian move. One moment the vampire was next to him, the next he was already between Gale and Lysaila. The faint golden blade of Primoria flashed only once, yet Gale and Lysaila had collapsed. There was no blocking, no riposte, no evasion. It was instant defeat.

Had the elder vampire used magic? Some secret lifeforce technique? Stryg didn’t know. It had happened too fast.

“Thanks for the offer, but no thanks,” Lysaila shook her head.

“Are you sure?” Gian asked. “Gale could use the sparring partner. And while Stryg is already learning a swordsmanship style, he could definitely learn a few things from watching you fight?”

“I get to fight Stryg?” Lysaila’s eyes widened.

Gian nodded, “Yes. For his training.”

“I can beat him up?” she asked.

“Not the main objective, but if he falters and fails to block, I suppose,” Gian said.

“I’m in,” Lysaila smiled wide.