《War of The Disciples》Chapter 71: Blood’s Persistence
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Umbren almost tripped over himself as he hastily shoved his arms through the sleeves of his black cloak.
After the initial attack Faldrid rushed to his tent in a hurry, muttering something about their needing to be a clear line of command in a battle. Umbren, knowing nothing else to do, followed him. At least he wouldn’t have to worry as much about getting skewered by an arrow of light with his cloak on him. Besides, Mortis would kill him if he lost it.
Faldrid tightened the strap of his shield to his arm, his kukri at the ready. He looked to Umbren, “Ready?”
Umbren examined his gear. His kukri was sheathed at his side with all the throwing knives he could find strapped to different places around his body. He pulled on the straps around him just to make sure they were secure. He unsheathed Cronai. The black blade seemed to sparkle despite the lack of light, like stars in a black sky.
Faldrid nodded to the sword, “You're lucky that you were able to sharpen that thing before all this.”
Umbren wasn’t sure if he was lucky at all considering the situation, they were in. He pulled up the hood of his cloak and pulled on the collar of the suit he wore, not lucky at all. He summoned darkness around his head and imbued it with his soul, dying because of the luxcians blessing of the mind would be more than inconvenient to say the least.
When the two parted the folds of the tent they were pulled into the chaos of battle. It overwhelmed the senses and forced one's will and mind into the dirt. Umbren hated it all. He hated the feeling of being swept away like a wave, powerless to the flow of it all. Yet, somehow, he found himself subjected to it time and time again, as time went on the more frequent it seemed to become.
A scream reached his ears through all the chaos. A guttural cry that made one's legs weak, but filled the owner with determination to perform the gravest sin.
By the time Umbren faced the spear point it was only a pace away. His eyes went wide, believing his time had run out, but then he blinked. The spear ricocheted off of Faldrid’s small shield, and the fear of the gods was put into the wielder of the spear. Umbren’s eyes sharpened as slashed Cronai to the side, up through the man’s stomach and to the shoulder, sending the arm flying.
The luxcian fell to the ground in a pool of blood. Umbren stood over him and looked into his star pupils as he stared up towards the sky. His heart began to thump through his chest and he gritted his teeth as he uttered a silent prayer until the life left those star pupils after only a second, but to Umbren it could have been hours.
Umbren looked down to Cronai. Blood dripped from the black blade. It’s elegance long gone, corrupted by the taste of a man’s flesh. Umbren hated cleaning it. It seemed like a fruitless endeavor. No matter how hard he tried he felt like the stains remained, even if others told him, it was spotless.
Umbren suddenly felt a warm sensation on his back and his eyes almost popped out of his head in shock.
“Wake up you fool!” Faldrid yelled, “Now is no time for that! If you weren’t wearing that cloak you would be skewered through the heart with light.”
Umbren snapped out of his trance as two more luxcians appeared out of the night. He jumped back, throwing knives as he went. He heard the clang of metal on metal as the knives met armor, but dull thudds reached his ears as the knives met skin and the luxcians went to the ground.
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When Umbren went to right his footing he almost knocked into Faldrid, “What should we do!” Umbren yelled over the cries and screams of battles.
Luxcians seemed to come from all directions now as tenebrage fended them off. Some were successful in sending their foe back to the dirt, but Umbren saw one get pierced through the back with a spear as he reveled in his victory.
Faldrid bashed his shield into the face of a Luxcian close to him, then sliced upward with his kukri. All the while he held a shield of darkness over his head as arrows of light rained down from above. Umbren could only imagine the effort it must have taken to keep that up and the shield over his mind. He doubted Faldrid could keep it up for long.
“I have no idea! It’s a slaughter! It will be practically impossible to recover and push them back!” Faldrid sounded as if speaking was the greatest exertion a man could partake in.
“Then we run!” Umbren sidestepped a spear and brought Cronai down on the neck of the wielder.
Faldrid went quiet for a moment, “Mortis won’t be too happy with that.”
“So!?” Umbren threw a knife at a distant luxcian.
“You have no idea how fortunate you are.” Faldrid whispered.
“What!?” Umbren yelled over the carnage around them
Faldrid turned and seized his collar, “We retreat! Go and spread the word! Find Talquinn if you can!”
Faldrid pushed Umbren away and ran in the opposite direction.
Umbren didn’t skip a step as he began to rush through the chaos around him.
***
Alsarie sat on the floor of a tent. Her spear and arrows were spread out before her. She was restringing her bow in her hand.
“What are you doing?” Thestra asked in a bored tone as she threw a ball into the air as she lay on the side of her bed.
“Maintenance.” Alsarie said curtly.
“Why?” The ball came back down into her hand.
“To be prepared.”
Thestra gave a dry laugh, “Prepared? Prepared for what.”
“One must always be prepared.”
The two went silent for some time.
“Can you let me go now?” Thestra asked.
“No.”
A wry smile came to Thestra’s lips, “In one of the greatest cities in the world, and I can’t even see it.”
“Pity,” Alsarie spoke with absolutely no pity, “If your so bored then you can just work on your weapons.”
“Don’t need to.”
“And why is it that you believe that.” she said with great annoyance.
“A good blade takes care of itself. It never breaks or blemishes,”
“How stupid. When your good blade is too dull to cut through someone, don’t come to complaining to me.”
“And why should I listen to you?” Thestra said playfully
“Experience for one.” Alsarie said through gritted teeth.
“Experience of someone who fights like a luxcian is of little value to me.”
Alsarie took deep breaths as she nearly broke her bow string. She bowed her head as she tried to calm herself, loose strands of hair falling into her face.
“What’s that?” Thestra was up from her bed now and reaching out to a mark on Alsarie’s neck. A sun with a spear through it.
Alsarie’s eyes went wide with rage as she spun around and caught the hand, “Shut up! Just shut up! Do you think I am happy about being here? Happy about having to baby sit you!? It is the last thing that I would want to be doing. But Morta wills it so I will obey. Just know this: I don’t care if you were trained by Shelta or even the Disciples themselves. I not afraid of you brat!”
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Thestra gave a smile, “Is that so…” her free hand began to creep to her kukri, “Don’t think just because you used to be a Hound…”
“What’s under the eyepatch.” Alsarie’s gaze.
Thestra’s eye widened as she tried to pull her hand away, but Alsarie held on tight, “Forget what you saw on my neck and I’ll drop the subject.”
After a moment Thestra cautiously nodded.
A fabricated smile came to Alsarie’s lips, “Great.”
“Alsarie you have a guest.”
Alsarie spun around to see a Hand that could easily described as the most beautiful women in the world if it weren’t for the crooked nose
“And who may that be Melrova?”
A timid fulgcere came around the corner. It appeared as if the very wind would send him running. Alsarie had seen the man before, Caekeve.
Alsarie gave the biggest smile she could muster, “master caekeve, what a pleasant surprise.”
The sweet greeting seemed to give the man a bit more confidents, “Oh no, the pleasure is all mine. My lord simply requested that I check in on the Hands to see how they were enjoying their stay.”
Alsarie furrowed her brow, but her polite expression stayed on her face, “I’m sorry, but I’m a little confused. I’m sure Melrova would be a better person to ask than me. I’ve been trapped in this tent for longer than I would have liked…”
Melrova waved her hand dismissively, “The fulgcere insist to talk to you two. Please don’t embarrassed us in front of our guess.” She gave Alsarie a warning gare then promptly set off.
Caekeve gave an awkward life as he figeted with his hands. Alsarie furrowed her brow and a cautious glare came to her eyes. Her hand edged to the kukri at her side.
“I hope that the city has treated you both nicely. I know fulgcere can be a bit…direct but I assure that they mean the best.” The man still fidgeted with his hands while he spoke, sounding unsure of himself. None of that registered with Alsari however, only that he stared at Thestra the whole time. She might have hated the job, but she was obliged to carry it out.
The fulgcere took a step forward into the tent. Alsarie maintained the welcoming tone and smile, “I don’t recall inviting you in Master Caekeve.” She tried to hide the edge in her voice, but one could only do so much.
Caekeve almost jumped back by her sudden gentle protest, filled with uncertainty.
Thestra gave a wry smile as she jumped from her bed, “And I was thinking you had actually gotten more civilized for a moment there,” Alsarie shot a dark glare back but it was unheeded, “If you would like to know Master Caekeve, I haven’t had much of the privilege of seeing your great city. I have been a bit…busy.”
Caekeve nearly jumped with joy at that, “Oh then I would certainly be willing to show you around. I am positive that my lord will be…”
Alsarie took a deep breath and faced caekeve with the sincerest expression she could muster, “I apologize, but it seems my junior will be much too preoccupied throughout the night with her lessons. She still has yet to tend to her weapons.”
Thestra smirked, “Is that…” Her face contorted to that of shock as she suddenly threw the ball in her hand at the unsuspecting fulgcere.
It hit the man square in the face, and he over dramatically recoiled away at the impact from shock. Lucky for him because an arrow of light tore through the tent and landed in the spot he was previously standing.
Alsarie and Thestra instinctively threw up a shield of darkness. A barrage of arrows of light struck it. If Caekeve was shocked by the strike from the ball, this had left him in shambles. He sat in the corner of the tent, trembling with fear.
As Alsarie held her shield she wrinkled her nose. Holding this much attack off should of at least left her with veins popping out of her forehead. She looked back to Thestra with a expression she knew all too well: Silent hatred. Alsarie couldn’t help but give a half-hearted smile at that.
When the barrage ceased, Alsarie rushed forward, picking up her weapons as she went.
She heard the footsteps behind her. She spun around with her arm outstretched, “No.” she said sternly.
Thestra seemed surprised but that was quickly overtaken with irritated contempt, “No? And why is that?”
“I was given orders to protect you, and I don’t think going out there is too safe. Do you?”
Thestra simply glared back. Alsarie returned her glare then nodded to the terrified fulgcere in the corner, “Protect him until I get back. I’m sure you can do such a simple task. Will you prove me wrong, brat?”
Thestra bit her lip, but Alsarie didn’t wait for a response as she ran out of the tent with her bow slung over her back, and her spear in her hand.
The shouts and cries of battle rang through the air, punctuated by the clash of metal. Alsarie couldn’t help but smile. It felt as if each of her limbs was drunk with excitment. As she saw the first foot soldier come out from the tents a pressure built up in her chest, threatening to explode. Her smile deepened ever more.
She barely heard the Hands rushing around her, jumping out of their tents and charging at the enemy.
She looked up at the sky. Loinir Attoka flew above, their riders sending arrows of light down on the camp.
“If only my lord and lady could see me now,” She ready her spear as she took a step forward. An arrow embedded itself into the dirt right in front of her. Alsarie’s eyes widened at the arrow. Her head spun around at potential archer nest, but a single voice pierced through her concentration.
“Dear Sister Alsarie! I wouldn’t bother looking. We have you surrounded. I’m afraid you won’t be able to do anything but come back with us to father…or die of course.”
A figure emerged from the luxcian foot soldiers. She wore a mask depicting the sun with two spears pierced through it. A yellow scarf was wrapped around her head, hiding her hair.
Alsarie’s blood went cold, and her smile died. No emotion filled her heart, but the chagrin from the joy her reaction caused for the approaching woman.
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