Canu received angered looks upon his arrival into the tavern. Many of the new patrons here had been forced to find a new tavern after Canu had put the other tavern in Rulzan to the torch. Now the only inn in town was overcrowded and filled with unsatisfied men and women who missed their favorite spot—and Canu was to blame.

He sat in the shadows with the hood of a silvery cloak covering most of his face. A pipe hung form his mouth and clouds of smoke puffed out from his hood every so often. Emonu sat before him at the table with a jug of ale sat before him. It was nearly his third, and so his mouth had begun to speak and chatter from the buzz of the alcohol. Canu’s first beer sat untouched on the table. Emonu eyed it enviously.

The sun had only just begun to set, and so orange light filled the tavern. It was a cozy light and it seemed to loosen the atmosphere. The winter solstice had only been a few weeks prior, and so the sun had decided to begin taking its leave an hour earlier than usual. With the onset of the winter solstice, the day of Aumenfal was soon to arrive. The sun would set suddenly, and complete darkness would swallow the land. After nearly an hour, the light would begin to trickle back in—reminding the people of the light’s victory over darkness many years ago. And, as the tale is told, the fallen brother of the first man, Ravnus, was finally chained and thrown into the Great Abyss until the chains broke. Time had begun its disintegrating effect on the realm so that people slowly stopped telling the tale until it became disjointed and unbelieved.

Only now had discussion of the battle of the first men begun to resurface, now that the yearly celebration of Aumenfal had arrived again. The hour of darkness was expected sometime tomorrow, although no one knew exactly when. Canu could hear men and women speaking anxiously over beer and ale about the day’s festivities. Canu could hear one man in particular speaking to a shady looking man with a trimmed red beard.

“Men from all over the Tradesroad will be coming tomorrow, and I mean to be there. I’ve saved all my coin for five long years. I hear there will be a Floweress for auction,” he said with a toothy grin. Canu watched the man with the thin red beard lean back in his chair, pondering the man’s words.

Emonu had been waving his hands in front of Canu’s face.

“Is anyone there inside that head of yours? Can you hear me? Canu?”

“What?” snapped Canu. He always hated it when people forced him out of trance. He was thinking. He thought of Eshna. He had left her back at the house where Elric and Bulig stood watch for tonight. Judd and Blivth had been excused to go do what young men did on the night of a festival. They would surely be at the bars and the brothels, looking for a woman to please them. Spending far too steep of coin for the simplest of woman. They were just boys, naïve to the important aspects of life in Terragar. Canu had his ears, Morcant, slipping around the streets of town and inside brothels to hear what he could. There was a variety of men from all over Ulda attending the auction tomorrow.

Emonu chuckled uneasily at Canu’s temper. “Um…it’s just…”

“What?” repeated Canu. He inhaled from his pipe before setting it on the table.

“Were you going to tell me what Elunu informed you of? You had told me you would…”

“It’s Sigeric,” said Canu.

“What about him?”

“He’s been in bad company,” said Canu.

“There’s plenty of bad company in Terragar. What’s the trouble then?” asked Emonu.

Canu pushed back his hood, leaning forward in his stool so that no one else would hear him. “It sounds like the sorcerer that got hold of Ahod.” Canu nodded with his eyebrows lifted high. Emonu tilted his head skeptically.

“Yes,” continued Canu. “The man who calls himself Maziq.”

“Ah, yes. The sorcerer who melted on to the floor and slithered away as a snake?”

“Yes, that one,” affirmed Canu.

The sounds of a pleasant melody began as musicians took their place in a corner of the inn. People flicked their coins and their tokens into a bucket that had been laid out for tips. Canu was too far to offer coin unless he walked over there. He did not like the music anyways.

After explaining all that Elunu had said, Emonu sat thoughtfully.

“That man is trouble. He has an anger inside of him that could get you and your men killed. Being in league with that sorcerer…it’s like binding your clan’s reputation to Mekdah.”

“Okay, Emonu, enough. Do not speak so freely of that. There are always ears in a place like this,” said Canu. Even as he said so, a man sitting near the middle of the inn turned in his seat and stared blatantly at Emonu and Canu. Emonu raised a middle finger to him. The man tapped his sword belt gently before turning back around slowly.

“I am not leaving without your protection,” said Emonu.

“Of course, you aren’t,” replied Canu.

“As I said, Sigeric is trouble. What if he brings that dark magic into your clan? His lust for coin and reputation exceeds his loyalty to your clan,” said Emonu. “He does not respect our mission.”

“Our mission? You are not a part of the clan. You are merely my friend,” said Canu. A middle-aged woman tripped over the leg of a stool and stumbled noisly to the ground. The music stopped for a second. The silence was filled with obnoxious laughter as the woman clumsily returning to her feet whilst lifting her mug of ale to show she hadn’t spilled.

“Imagine that wizard Maziq gives him special powers,” said Emonu.

“Why do you say it like that?” asked Canu.

“Say what? I am asking because—”

“Special powers. You make me wince, Emonu,”

“I can’t get a word out today without you—”

Easy, Emonu. I am only jesting. As for Sigeric and his new friend, I will keep an eye on it. He is not far from being banished. His recent raids and plunders have not gone unnoticed,” said Canu.

“I should hope not. Whispers around Rulzan are that Sigeric has lost his mind,” said Emonu.

“More like he found his mind. He has always had that streak in him. He is finally rejecting my help. His mind suffers under the manipulation of his friend. You can see it in his eyes,” said Canu.

“So, you know more than you let on,” said Emonu. “You’ve heard the stories, though?”

“Some, yes.”

“Did you hear of the one from yesterday?”

“What of it?” asked Canu.

“Broke into a family’s hidden gold underneath the floorboards. Tore apart the house getting to it. Ended up maiming the father. Took both his hands.”

Canu scrunched his face, startled. “For whom did he commit these acts?”

The request came in from the desert lord If the word be believed,” said Emonu.

“The desert lord?” said Canu, incredulously. “We agreed never to deal with him. His requests are often abominations. We aren’t butchers, Emonu. We are the Rulzan’s justice.”

Emonu nodded in agreement before downing the rest of his ale. He took Canu’s in his hand and drink while Canu spoke again.

“What would the desert lord want with a family in the town of Rulzan?” asked Canu.

“I don’t know. But I know Sigeric has gone rogue. He’s not reporting his earning to Radax,” said Emonu.

“How do you know this? You’re not in my clan and I don’t even know this,” said Canu.

“I spoke to Morcant yesterday. Saw him at the market. He was being your eyes and ears, as always.”

Canu pursed his lips and gave a slight shake of the head. Sigeric had been missing quite often the past few days. It had been nearly a week since Elunu had ridden into town in a panic with word of what he had witnessed.

“People fear Sigeric. They say his rage is worse than ever. Once he starts slashing that sword, there is no stopping him,” said Emonu.

Canu propped his boots up on the chair across from him. The last of the orange light sifting through the windows was dwindling, and the air grew chilly as the night air moved through.

The door opened with the jingling of a bell. The whole inn grew quiet for a second, before resuming their conversations at the sight of a familiar face. It was Morcant.

“Emonu. Canu,” Morcant greeted. He took a sat beside Emonu. His scruffy red fuzz framed his chin and his jaw, although not quite connecting to his hair.

“I’ve come to find you with news, Canu,” said Morcant. He was breathing heavily and rubbing his hands from the cold. He wore a brown jerkin jacket with sheep fleece lining the inside.

“News of what? A man cannot relax for even one evening around here,” said Canu. Being clan leader was tiresome. Ever since their duties and jurisdiction had gone beyond the town Rulzan, their reputation had earned them many new contracts and requests. Some had gone as far as to label them mercenaries, but they were nowhere near an army. Thirteen of them may have been considered a guild in Canu’s mind, but nothing more.

“This news is a bit unique, as it has to do with our clan. I heard it from an external source,” said Morcant.

“Well? What’s the news and who is the source?” asked Canu.

“It was a servant of the desert lord passing through. He was telling someone of his encounter with Sigeric.”

“And?” asked Canu. His silvery cloak twinkled in the lighting of a candle.

“Sigeric means to take you on…in a flasduel.”

Canu laughed. “He cannot be serious,” said Canu. “Why does he talk with the desert lord and his servants? He’s working with a self-proclaimed lord who is the owner of a remote desert land where he has no subjects and there is no produce. Besides, that desert lord is a piece of scum.” Canu had worked himself up by the end of his stammer. He snatched his ale back out of Emonu’s hands.

“Did you hear the part about the flasduel, Canu?” asked Morcant.

“Yes, I did. I have a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” asked Emonu, enviously staring at the ale in Canu’s hand.

“I haven’t even finished cementing it in my own head and you think I’m going to share it with you now?” Canu chuckled, patting Emonu on the back and sipping more ale.

Morcant continued, “Although the desert lord is harmless, it is a signal of intent, I do believe. You must be cautious, Canu. He does have that sorcerer on his side now.”

“He does not scare me,” said Canu.

“Very well,” said Morcant as he scooted his seat in and prepared to leave. “That is all I heard. Wanted to pass it along.”

“Here,” said Canu. He tossed a pouch of coins to Morcant. “And tell Radax he owes you a golden tablet for your troubles.”

“Aye, thank you, Canu.” Morcant had just reached the door when he paused. He glanced back at Canu with his mouth open, and then decided against shouting so he returned to the table. He nearly tripped over the leg of a burly patron with a massive axe leaned up against the wall. He eyed Morcant coldly, who winced as he stretched his legs to squeeze between the burly man and the wall.

“I almost forgot, Canu. There is one more thing,” said Morcant.

“Aye, and what is that? Tell me you’ve got news that won’t bitter the taste of my ale.”

Morcant chuckled nervously.

“Why are you so uneasy?” asked Canu, furrowing his brow. The atmosphere had just grown louder inside the inn and so Morcant leaded in closer to talk into Canu’s ear. Emonu tried to lean in to hear but it was no use.

“There is a man who is asking of your whereabouts,” said Morcant.

“What kind of man? Every man is asking about my whereabouts, Morcant. I do work for many men,” said Canu.

“A sickly man. A quite deformed looking man. He knows your name and everything, despite being a foreigner.”

“A foreigner? From the north—across the land bridge?” asked Canu curiously. A waiter came by, but Canu waved him away impatiently.

“It was hard to tell. But his skin was full of sores and infection. He was missing a hand and one of his eyes appeared blind. Clothes were torn up and he smelled of some of the worst smells I’d ever smelled. Cleared out the market as soon as he walked up to it. No man could stand his stench. He walked with a limp and a cane as well.”

Canu pursed his lips a while. He could not say that he knew of such a man. But it was not unusual for those in poverty to come to Canu in hopes of exacting revenge on the men who handicapped them. But a foreigner…who knows my name…

“Canu…Canu!” shouted Emonu.

“Would you shut up? I’m thinking,” replied Canu. “Morcant, where did you see him?”

“Just inside Rulzan. He was making his way from market to market, from inn to inn. He was searching desperately for a man named Canu Aybury,” said Morcant.

“Where did he get that last name?” asked Canu.

“I’m not sure, although I could try to find out tonight if you wish,” said Morcant.

“Actually, bring him to me, Morcant. Take Elric and Bulig with you if you must. Meet me at the Forked River. That name just sparked a memory I didn’t know I had.” Canu had his hand resting over his lips thoughtfully. Morcant arose from his chair and departed in search of the man.

“Morcant!” shouted Canu once he got to the door.

“Yes, Canu?”

“What was his name?” Canu shouted over the noise.

“Anselm—”

“What?” shouted Canu.

“Anselm Aybury!” shouted Morcant. Canu gave a nod and Morcant left.

Emonu soon followed Canu out of the inn. Canu saddled his horse and mounted, leaving without a word. Emonu stumbled over himself trying to get in his horse and catch up to Canu.

“We’re going to the Forked River?” asked Emonu as they rode.

“That is what I said, is it not?” replied Canu.

“It is indeed what you said. Why there?”

“It is a remote place. I do not want to be seen speaking to a leper and a blind man. Bad for my reputation.”

The two rode for a short while before arriving at the side of a river that split into three different directions up ahead. Giant rock formations towered along either side of the river up ahead where it split off into different directions. The moonlight glistened along the surface of the water.

“Now what?” asked Emonu. He stood beside his horse. He was a stocky man was short legs and a long torso. An oversized fur coat draped down to his shins.

“We wait.”

Emonu stayed quiet for a time. Canu did not seem to mind the quiet nor the cold. Emonu shivered beneath his fur coat. A cold wind was sweeping through the winter air. He hated the solstice. With it always came cold gusts of wind that chilled right down to the bone no matter how many layers one wore. The desert would still become warm during the day as the sun shone, but as soon as night arrived the coldness would return.

Canu was grateful for Emonu, and they had bonded through a shared life. Canu did not remember anything of his life from before he was taken in by Emonu’s family. They had found him as a mere boy of twelve, floating along the Forked River. Emonu’s family took him in and cared for him like their own. Emonu was only two years younger and so the two developed a friendship.

“I know you miss them,” said Canu. He looked to Emonu, who was staring at the water of the Forked River. He often stared off distantly when he was deep in thought. Canu noticed when it happened because of how rare it was to see him keeping his words to himself.

“It will have been four years tomorrow. The festival of Aumenfal.”

“I am sorry,” said Canu.

“We both are without parents. Some will have theirs until they are forty or fifty. For us, much earlier,” replied Emonu.

“I don’t even remember my parents,” said Canu. He kneeled beside the riverbank and began running a stick through the mud of the bank.

“I can’t imagine. Sometimes I wish I couldn’t remember mine. Save me some of the hurt,” said Emonu.

“Don’t say that friend. Not knowing my parents doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. I long to know my family, but instead I have this.” Canu motioned with his arms, encapsulating all of the landscape that surrounded them. “Rulzan. Terragar. The South…it is all I know. But I do wonder, is it all I have known? Perhaps I did grow up in the north as the son to a great lord. Or, perhaps, I was a peasant boy who fell into the seas by some sort of accident. Hit my head. Forgot it all.”

“Your life would have been drastically different in the north,” said Emonu. “It is not the same Ulda that we know here.”

“Is that the wise Emonu of Terragar speaking? To whom do I owe this great honor?” Canu mockingly bowed before Emonu, who gave Canu a great shove and knocked him to the ground. Canu was shaking with laughter.

“It is true, Canu. It is known! The north has laws and civilized trade. For murder, there is punishment. For raiding and plundering, they will have you lashed or hung. At least, it is what I am told.”

“How miserable.” Canu had finally finished convulsing with laughter. Emonu had pretended not to notice to discourage it.

Their conversation was broken up by the sound of hooves clacking along rock overlain with a thin layer of orange sand. The hooves echoed through the night sky. Canu saw two riders emerging towards him. Then three. And then four.

It was Morcant—who had brought Elric and Bulig along as Canu had suggested. The two brutes wore permanent scowls and deep-hooded cloaks as they lowered the mysterious man off his horse. Canu stared at the old man. His gray hair was long and sloppy, and it was strung in all sorts of directions across his face. He appeared crazed and his face bore many scars and opens sores.

“What should cause one’s face to be uglier than his ass, old man?”

Bulig and Elric each had one of his arms as they trudged him to Canu. They threw him down at Canu’s feet. The old man landed on his knees with his hands in his lap and his head bowed low.

“Do you not speak?” asked Canu. “Bulig, Elric…your job is done. He’s not hurting anyone unless he touches you with his diseased hand.”

The old man slowly lifted his head. One of his eyes was a milky white. His face had more wrinkles than Canu knew possible.

“Who are you? You asked for me, and now you’ve got my attention,” said Canu.

“I was told you’d never have time for an old man like me. I heard of your ability with a sword,” said the old man. His voice sounded gruff and raspy. “A sword that can kill and maim and protect.”

Canu unsheathed his weapon. “Tell me your name. I am not a patient man right now.”

“Anselm. Anselm Aybury.”

“Interesting timing for you to show up on the eve of Aumenfal,” said Canu. “What’re you—a beggar? I’ll give you coin for passage but don’t expect charity from me.”

“Oh, is tomorrow Aumenfal? I’m out of touch with the ways of Ulda tradition these days,” replied Anselm. He rubbed the stump of his left hand thoughtfully. “But I do not come seeking coin or plunder. That is child’s play.”

“Child’s play?” laughed Canu. He looked at Elric who seemed to have missed the humor. His face was stern as he studied Anselm. His tattered cloak looked moth-eaten and old.

Anselm straightened up and suddenly a bit of life came to his good eye. “You look good Canu. It has been too long since I have last seen you. I passed through many perils to get to you, eh?”

Canu’s hand went to his hilt. “Where are your men? Have you come to start a feud?” Canu signaled to Elric and Bulig to search the area for other men.

“There is no one here but me. Your own men brought me here,” chuckled Anselm. His cackle was like a croak. He smiled, revealing ancient, rotted teeth. “You seem to have adapted well to life in the southern Ulda, Canu. It is an honor to see you are so strong and confident. You have followers of men, it would appear. Meeting you here was not without a hefty price. I’m afraid I am out of coin now!” Anselm croaked in laughter again, keeling over. He clutched his stomach in pain that the laughter had caused. He broke out into a coughing fit.

“Who are you,” said Canu tentatively. He had the tip of sword pointed out at Anselm, but he backed away slightly. Something about this man’s presence put him off. He had an aura about him—but he could not place it. “How do you know me?”

“I’ve known of you as long as you’ve lived, you just don’t remember,” replied Anselm. He could see the youth in Canu’s eyes. He smiled to himself. Canu seemed to think he had seen much in his life but in truth it was shallow compared to the horrors that awaited the realm. Anselm had been too familiar with such horrors in recent days. It was a welcome sight to journey through the lawless land of the south.

“You knew of me as a child? What of my parents?” asked Canu. His sword was slowly lowered.

“Oh, they are still alive. I assure you! That is something I meant to tell you upon my arrival here. I can send you to them if you’d just follow my instructions.”

Canu hesitated. “Go on, frizzled man. If you’re another sorcerer, then I’ll split you with my blade from head to toe.” Elric and Bulig had completed a search and found no one.

Anselm doubled over in laughter. “A sorcerer? I sure wish that was all I had to worry of.” Anselm laughed again, repeating Canu’s words, “A sorcerer!”

“Enough of the laughter. I will not have my time wasted by an old man whose mind has gone,” said Canu.

Anselm’s face grew so serious that Canu felt his breath get caught in his chest. A sinister look came over Anselm. Canu sheathed his weapon slowly, sweat trickling down his face despite the cool temperatures.

“Do you know who you are, Canu?” asked Anselm.

“I…I am Canu of Terragar,” said Canu haphazardly.

“You shall find out more of who you are. Your family is across the land bridge and to the north. To the north you shall journey to discover who you are. There you shall also find your family. Your life is only just getting underway, young warlord.”

Canu had not liked the term warlord. He had not viewed himself in that light.

“I will not go north off the word of some old man whose lost his mind. Those lands are not meant for a southerner like me. This is the land of the lawless. You would have me mindless journey to the lands of oppression and slavery. You know nothing of me or my past,” said Canu.

“You don’t know anything either, I should point out,” said Anselm. “You should know, I would not have travelled here all the way from the Ena Caves if it weren’t for you. And, well, I do have some business to attend to beyond the mountains to the south,” said Anselm.

“The Ena Caves? Beyond the mountains? What does a man have to do in both Ena and Mekdah besides treacherousness and evil? I should strike you down now.” Canu bared his steel once again. A menacingly look had overcome him. Emonu had to step in front of him to prevent Anselm’s head from being swept off his shoulders.

“Canu, please. This man seems to have an unusual aura about him. I trust him,” said Emonu.

Canu looked to Elric and Bulig. They both shrugged, pretending not to know a thing. Although, inwardly, they both had a deep reverence for the old man in rags. He seemed to be more than he was letting on.

“I’ll hear you out. But only because you speak of my family. And you’d better explain yourself if you claim to have been to the Ena Caves. That is a most holy place—if legend is believed correctly. A place only for the High King and his High Queen and their protectors.”

“Indeed, you should see it in person! It is more lovely than the tales they tell,” replied Anselm.

Canu stared at him in disbelief. “How did you find those caves, anyways? I thought it was hidden to all but certain men?”

“Certain men—you mean a Seer?” replied Anselm. “Yes, of course. I had a Seer guide me to the bottom of the mountain. Beware the journey up the mountains to the caves. Littered with corpses and treacherous footing. Half my scars came from that trek. Took me many months to get to the caves. That was only half the challenge!” Anselm snorted in laughter which turned to a rattling cough. He leaned on a walking stick which had seemingly come out of nowhere.

Elric stared at the walking stick, perplexed.

“Canu, you must listen. I haven’t got much time to waste—”

“Time to waste? What could you possibly be in a hurry for? You need to find a place to rest until your soul ascends to the heaven above. You look as if your last day is near,” said Canu. He spoke sincerely. His eyes scanned Anselm from head to toe. His face was so weathered that droopy skin almost covered his eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, son,” said Anselm. “I’ve got fewer years than you’d believe. Time is different there you know—in the Ena Caves. Since we’ve started speaking, two years have passed in the court of the High King.”

Canu stared at him skeptically, and then to Emonu.

“I’ve got a gift for you, my son,” said Anselm, holding out a hand that clasped over something.

Canu held out a hand. Elric urged him not to.

“Step away, Elric. I will be fine,” said Canu.

Anselm dropped a stone into Canu’s hand. It appeared dull as like any other rock he’d ever seen.

Anselm’s face had grown dark and serious. “Do not take this gift lightly. If you are to find your way to your home in the north, you will need this. Let no one else hold it.”

“It is simply a rock,” said Canu. He held it higher in the air to examine all angles of it.

“To the simple eye, yes,” said Anselm. “Sleep with it clutched nearby and your dreams will be of some use to you. When you dream from now on, with this in your possession, do not take them lightly,” said Anselm. He had paused a second as if considering if he should say the last part.

“What?” said Canu. “You wanted to say more. Say it.” Canu’s hand went instinctively to his hilt.

“If you see…if you see the creature of great power in your visions…do not engage it. Do not speak to it. As soon as you speak or make a sound…he will see you. There is no telling what his power has grown to. He may even control you or invade your mind,” said Anselm

Canu dropped the rock. His chest grew tight.

“Creature of great power? I want no part in this. If you speak of Mekdah, I will not delve into dealings with the devil himself,” replied Canu.

“He is not the devil,” said Anselm. “Take the dreamstone. Bring the Floweress, too. You will need her. Her home is also in the north.”

“And what are you doing in Mekdah? I should not trust a man who travels beyond the mountains. Only those wretched creatures in Drakadin wander those lands. That much is known.”

Canu circled around Anselm, gazing at the Dreamstone now. He had picked it up and was now examining it. Elric and Bulig stood imposingly before Anselm. Emonu’s heart raced, and his hand rested on the hilt of his lone dagger which hung from his belt.

“What I do now was ordered by the High King of Ena. You cannot impede me, nor can any man in these lands. I have a most Holy decree from their courts,” said Anselm. He withdrew a piece of parchment from within his robes.

The condition of the parchment was vastly contrasted to his tattered brown robes. The parchment had a glowing golden font to it. The parchment let out a hissing noise as he held it out in the night air. He quickly placed it back inside his robes.

“I best be going now. I presume this may be the last time we encounter one another, Aitor Aybury of Stettenhal,” said Anselm—addressing Canu.

“Aitor…Stettenhal? What?” asked Canu, distressed.

“You will see. Go. Find your family, and much more will make sense. I suppose one day you will gain your memory back, Aitor…sorry, Canu. I forget that you never knew your true name,” said Anselm. He turned to leave. Canu walked toward Anselm, not satisfied with the explanations given to him.

“Wait! For what reason do you desire to see me find my home? This is a trap!” shouted Canu.

Anselm turned to face Canu. As he did, a gust of sand came in a swirling whirlwind. It blinded the four men from Anselm. He smiled, turning to leave amidst the storm of orange sand and wind. When the winds died down, he was gone.

Canu stood staring, mouth gaping wide open.

“Now what?” asked Emonu. “Are you going to listen to that old cripple?”

“I don’t know, Emonu…I don’t know…”

Just then, two riders were fast approaching. The four men unsheathed their weapons and stood back-to-back. It was impossible to tell who it was in the dark of the night.

“Who is it?” called Emonu. It was useless. No one could hear his voice over the clattering of the hooves.

“It is our men,” said Canu.

Elunu and Gariel came into view. Elunu pulled up first, still mounted upon his mare with a defiant expression upon his face.

“Sigeric has demanded a flasduel. Tomorrow. At first light. He sends his best wishes.” Elunu spat the words. His mare neighed wildly as he bucked his horse and then yanked the reins—riding off into the night. Gariel had paused a moment, glaring at Canu with contempt.

“Sigeric will win,” was all Gairel said before spurring his horse.

Canu heaved a sigh. It had been quite the night.

“Are you going to accept?” asked Elric in his blunt voice.

“What do you mean accept? A flasduel is not optional,” replied Canu.