ARC 6-Winter War-69
I stare at the man, brows furrowed and lips pursed. I understand the intent clearly enough. He’s come looking for revenge. What gives me pause is that speech. It sounded very deliberate. He spoke slowly, as if checking his words before he said them. The better tell is the sharp breath Alana takes beside me.
“What’s happening right now?” I ask, leaning toward her.
“Allow me to explain.” Oh, the bunny does not look happy. Her displeasure isn’t the slightest bit threatening. “I’m sure you know how Victory handles disputes. When there is a grudge between two residents of the north that cannot be settled through mediation, the offended party is able to level a challenge to the offender.”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “This is no ordinary challenge and it is not like your duels in the south. It is always to the death. But it is not only their lives they wager. They wager their house. Their honor. They…there is nothing I can compare it to. The challenge cannot be rescinded and it cannot be avoided. Anyone who dares is exiled from the north, their names struck from any records and family registries. That still wouldn’t erase the shame it would bring on their house and order.”
“How?” Alana is downright seething. Her hands ball into fists at her sides. “Who taught you those words?”
I look to Yulia for an explanation. She obliges.
“So none may misconstrue a regular spar for a challenge, the wording is very precise. It must be said correctly and in its entirety. The words are also not written down. Only a native of Victory is taught what a challenge means and only when they are old enough and wise enough to understand what they are risking.”
“Someone taught them knowing you couldn’t refuse,” Alana bites out.
Because I’ll be kicked from Victory. Ah, wait. Yulia said something about how declining the challenge will bring shame to a person’s family. I don’t have family here but I am Alana’s bannerwoman. She told me that she’s responsible for all my actions. Does that include this challenge? If I refuse, would that tarnish her reputation here beyond repair?
“Coo!” [You are correct, Master Lou. Also, the one to teach them this method was one of the servants loyal to Zachariah.]
“It doesn’t matter, does it? Either fight me or run away with your tail between your legs again, coward.”
Run? These idiots think I ran from the guildhouse because I was scared of them? I saved your lives! They don’t understand that Kierra and Geneva would have painted the streets of Quest red with their blood if I didn’t insist on limiting casualties.
This. This is why I didn’t stop that night and explain my actions. Why I didn’t entertain anyone trying to question me. I wanted my position to be untenable so they didn’t dream of challenging me, as that was the only way to save lives and limit the damage. Despite my efforts, these idiots have convinced themselves they can bring me down. Which has led to this.
Before I can respond, Alana grabs my arm and tugs me backward. I let her drag me away and she forces my head down to whisper in my ear.
“You cannot understand what this challenge means,” she hisses. “Not really. Neither do those fools. It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that you can never refuse and it is to the death. Always. Even if they beg. Even if they cry. No one is allowed to help you. Your elementals might be allowed but I’d rather you didn’t risk it. Unless you’re fighting a master caster, leave them out of it.”
“And how am I supposed to know I’m fighting a master caster?”
“I’m being serious, Lou.”
“Alright, alright.”
She stares into my eyes for several moments before nodding and dragging me back. With her little push on my back to prompt me, I step forward to face the leader. “Why are you doing this? You do know you’re going to die, don’t you?”
“Don’t get cocky. We know it was that elf that killed Emeritus.”
“Since you mentioned her, what are you going to do about my wife? In the unfeasible future you manage to kill me, you do know she’s going to kill you all, challenge or not.”
“She’s strong but she can’t take us all.”
“I’d argue against that. So, what? You plan to kill her too?”
“Of course. And your monsters.” His eyes move to Bell, who hisses at him. “No one messes with the guilds.”
These complete idiots. In the completely unfeasible, unbelievable, incomprehensible future the hunters manage to kill me and Kierra…Harvest burns. My mother-in-law marches across the continent with an army, no. With her children alone and kills everyone. Maybe, maybe, the nobles manage to push them back. Then she returns with her elder sister, the queen of an elven province, and then she brings an army.
I have to win. Not just to save myself and Alana’s reputation, but also to save the kingdom. Saints. “Fine. How do we do this?”
“A challenge requires three witnesses for each side or one James,” Alana replies, voice cold as ice. “We do this right here, right now. Though if you don’t want my father to take issue with your friends, you’ll keep off the estate.”
“Fine with me,” the leader sneers.
“Dueling distance. Do you need that explained to you?”
He doesn’t bother answering, walking away. His friends follow him until he’s an appropriate distance from me, then they move off to the side.
“Lou,” Yulia says softly, likely to keep the hunters from hearing. “If you have any doubts, it’s better to refuse. No amount of pride is worth your life.”
“She’ll be fine,” my future wife snaps, holding out her arms toward Bell.
“Coo!” [Their plan is to challenge you one by one until you collapse. Whether it takes these five, fifty, or a hundred. I doubt their resolve will last that long but it is strong. I suspect it might take at least a couple dozen before they lose their nerve.]
That is…such a terrible idea. If I stick to my physical abilities, I can go all day and night.
I quickly hand my bottles and cups to Alana before facing the hunter ready to kill me. He pulls a knife from his belt as his eyes glow. I tense, prepared to sprint. A caster’s biggest weakness is close-quarters combat. Get close and hit them before they can work a spell and all that mana is useless. Clearly, he’s trying to show he won’t be an easy target with that blade but he couldn’t hurt me with that if I lied still and told him where to aim.
“The challenge begins on my mark,” Yulia shouts. “There is no need for any more words.” Her voice hardens. “Victory or death.”
It is disturbing how many situations their harrowing motto fits.
“Begin.”
As I sprint forward, six more daggers come out from the hunter’s coat. Metal caster then. Means there is likely armor under his clothes but his head is unprotected.
I throw myself forward, dodging the blades and rolling to my feet smoothly. From the corner of my eye, I see the blades turn, tracking me, but I’m faster. I’ll reach him before they reach me. He smirks as he sees my approach. My slow approach, by my standards. No need to reveal all my skills when I’ll be fighting the on-lookers next.
Slow enough I see him smile. When I’m two steps from striking distance, metal flows around him like grey water, encasing his head. Then spikes, sharp and needle-thin burst from his chest.
If I were anyone else, those spikes would either spear me as I run into them stupidly or, more likely, force me to retreat and rethink my strategy. Either way, his blades have enough time to reach me and finish the job. If I were anyone else, I’d be forced to dodge his weapons until he runs out of mana. It’d be a contest of stamina and mana pool, which is probably why he’s limiting himself to six projectiles.
Unfortunately for him, I am not normal people.
I ignore the needles that bend without breaking my skin and punch the idiot’s metal head, putting my back into it. His head is armored now but the protection is thin. Might as well be nonexistent.
Metal dents and there is a sickening crunch as his head is caved in while being torn from his body. It lands in the snow several steps away, coloring it red. The daggers coming for me hit my back uselessly before falling along with their owner.
“Saints…” one of the hunters whispers.
“Our people said she only has a fire affinity,” whispered another.
“Must be melded. She’s a bigger threat than we thought but the plan is the same. Wear them down and take them out.”
The brave speaker steps forward, face obscured by a hood. He ignores the body of his friend, standing beside the decapitated man and raising his shield. That’s cold, even for this place. “Are you going to make me recite the words?”
I shake gore from my hand. He doesn’t flinch. The onlookers on both sides remain stoic. Saints, I’m not going embarrass myself by being the only one losing my nerve over this casual and completely unnecessary murder. “Why are you going this far? Torchbearers are fire casters, aren’t they? He wasn’t part of their guild and I doubt you are.”
“I’m not.” The shield-wielder rolls his shoulders. “I wasn’t even meant to be here and plan to leave as soon as this business is handled. The guilds always repay their debts, for good or ill. Did you really think we would back down because you’re strong?”
“Truly? Yes.” Like any intelligent person would.
“If you’re done stalling.”
“One moment.” All eyes move to Yulia. I’m surprised she isn’t gagging or vomiting into the snow. She is handling all of this with a grim frown, no trace of her bubbly smile anywhere. “Lourianne Tome has the right of rest between challenges. She may request a rest of six hours.”
Six hours? Doesn’t that make their plan a complete waste of time?
[You may rest six hours every three days,] Bell clarifies. [She has not mentioned that restriction because she hopes they will lose their nerve…and also because she wants you to take the break so she may speak with her father.]
“She doesn’t need it,” Alana says. To anyone else, it sounds like the harsh demand of a superior, pushing for results. To me, I hear the confidence of my future wife who has a much better understanding of my abilities than anyone else here. Yulia is appalled, frowning heavily at her sister. Alana doesn’t even look at her, eyes focused on me.
I flash her a smile before returning my gaze to my opponent. “You heard her.”
“If it’s any condolence, I regret it coming to this. You would have made a fine hunter or knight. Your death is a loss to the kingdom.”
“And yours isn’t?”
“There are hundreds of my caliber in Quest alone. Many of them have come here. You’ll die in one of these challenges or you’ll run and we’ll hunt you down. Your fate was sealed the moment you left the Hall.”
ARC 6-Winter War-69
I stare at the man, brows furrowed and lips pursed. I understand the intent clearly enough. He’s come looking for revenge. What gives me pause is that speech. It sounded very deliberate. He spoke slowly, as if checking his words before he said them. The better tell is the sharp breath Alana takes beside me.
“What’s happening right now?” I ask, leaning toward her.
“Allow me to explain.” Oh, the bunny does not look happy. Her displeasure isn’t the slightest bit threatening. “I’m sure you know how Victory handles disputes. When there is a grudge between two residents of the north that cannot be settled through mediation, the offended party is able to level a challenge to the offender.”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “This is no ordinary challenge and it is not like your duels in the south. It is always to the death. But it is not only their lives they wager. They wager their house. Their honor. They…there is nothing I can compare it to. The challenge cannot be rescinded and it cannot be avoided. Anyone who dares is exiled from the north, their names struck from any records and family registries. That still wouldn’t erase the shame it would bring on their house and order.”
“How?” Alana is downright seething. Her hands ball into fists at her sides. “Who taught you those words?”
I look to Yulia for an explanation. She obliges.
“So none may misconstrue a regular spar for a challenge, the wording is very precise. It must be said correctly and in its entirety. The words are also not written down. Only a native of Victory is taught what a challenge means and only when they are old enough and wise enough to understand what they are risking.”
“Someone taught them knowing you couldn’t refuse,” Alana bites out.
Because I’ll be kicked from Victory. Ah, wait. Yulia said something about how declining the challenge will bring shame to a person’s family. I don’t have family here but I am Alana’s bannerwoman. She told me that she’s responsible for all my actions. Does that include this challenge? If I refuse, would that tarnish her reputation here beyond repair?
“Coo!” [You are correct, Master Lou. Also, the one to teach them this method was one of the servants loyal to Zachariah.]
“It doesn’t matter, does it? Either fight me or run away with your tail between your legs again, coward.”
Run? These idiots think I ran from the guildhouse because I was scared of them? I saved your lives! They don’t understand that Kierra and Geneva would have painted the streets of Quest red with their blood if I didn’t insist on limiting casualties.
This. This is why I didn’t stop that night and explain my actions. Why I didn’t entertain anyone trying to question me. I wanted my position to be untenable so they didn’t dream of challenging me, as that was the only way to save lives and limit the damage. Despite my efforts, these idiots have convinced themselves they can bring me down. Which has led to this.
Before I can respond, Alana grabs my arm and tugs me backward. I let her drag me away and she forces my head down to whisper in my ear.
“You cannot understand what this challenge means,” she hisses. “Not really. Neither do those fools. It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that you can never refuse and it is to the death. Always. Even if they beg. Even if they cry. No one is allowed to help you. Your elementals might be allowed but I’d rather you didn’t risk it. Unless you’re fighting a master caster, leave them out of it.”
“And how am I supposed to know I’m fighting a master caster?”
“I’m being serious, Lou.”
“Alright, alright.”
She stares into my eyes for several moments before nodding and dragging me back. With her little push on my back to prompt me, I step forward to face the leader. “Why are you doing this? You do know you’re going to die, don’t you?”
“Don’t get cocky. We know it was that elf that killed Emeritus.”
“Since you mentioned her, what are you going to do about my wife? In the unfeasible future you manage to kill me, you do know she’s going to kill you all, challenge or not.”
“She’s strong but she can’t take us all.”
“I’d argue against that. So, what? You plan to kill her too?”
“Of course. And your monsters.” His eyes move to Bell, who hisses at him. “No one messes with the guilds.”
These complete idiots. In the completely unfeasible, unbelievable, incomprehensible future the hunters manage to kill me and Kierra…Harvest burns. My mother-in-law marches across the continent with an army, no. With her children alone and kills everyone. Maybe, maybe, the nobles manage to push them back. Then she returns with her elder sister, the queen of an elven province, and then she brings an army.
I have to win. Not just to save myself and Alana’s reputation, but also to save the kingdom. Saints. “Fine. How do we do this?”
“A challenge requires three witnesses for each side or one James,” Alana replies, voice cold as ice. “We do this right here, right now. Though if you don’t want my father to take issue with your friends, you’ll keep off the estate.”
“Fine with me,” the leader sneers.
“Dueling distance. Do you need that explained to you?”
He doesn’t bother answering, walking away. His friends follow him until he’s an appropriate distance from me, then they move off to the side.
“Lou,” Yulia says softly, likely to keep the hunters from hearing. “If you have any doubts, it’s better to refuse. No amount of pride is worth your life.”
“She’ll be fine,” my future wife snaps, holding out her arms toward Bell.
“Coo!” [Their plan is to challenge you one by one until you collapse. Whether it takes these five, fifty, or a hundred. I doubt their resolve will last that long but it is strong. I suspect it might take at least a couple dozen before they lose their nerve.]
That is…such a terrible idea. If I stick to my physical abilities, I can go all day and night.
I quickly hand my bottles and cups to Alana before facing the hunter ready to kill me. He pulls a knife from his belt as his eyes glow. I tense, prepared to sprint. A caster’s biggest weakness is close-quarters combat. Get close and hit them before they can work a spell and all that mana is useless. Clearly, he’s trying to show he won’t be an easy target with that blade but he couldn’t hurt me with that if I lied still and told him where to aim.
“The challenge begins on my mark,” Yulia shouts. “There is no need for any more words.” Her voice hardens. “Victory or death.”
It is disturbing how many situations their harrowing motto fits.
“Begin.”
As I sprint forward, six more daggers come out from the hunter’s coat. Metal caster then. Means there is likely armor under his clothes but his head is unprotected.
I throw myself forward, dodging the blades and rolling to my feet smoothly. From the corner of my eye, I see the blades turn, tracking me, but I’m faster. I’ll reach him before they reach me. He smirks as he sees my approach. My slow approach, by my standards. No need to reveal all my skills when I’ll be fighting the on-lookers next.
Slow enough I see him smile. When I’m two steps from striking distance, metal flows around him like grey water, encasing his head. Then spikes, sharp and needle-thin burst from his chest.
If I were anyone else, those spikes would either spear me as I run into them stupidly or, more likely, force me to retreat and rethink my strategy. Either way, his blades have enough time to reach me and finish the job. If I were anyone else, I’d be forced to dodge his weapons until he runs out of mana. It’d be a contest of stamina and mana pool, which is probably why he’s limiting himself to six projectiles.
Unfortunately for him, I am not normal people.
I ignore the needles that bend without breaking my skin and punch the idiot’s metal head, putting my back into it. His head is armored now but the protection is thin. Might as well be nonexistent.
Metal dents and there is a sickening crunch as his head is caved in while being torn from his body. It lands in the snow several steps away, coloring it red. The daggers coming for me hit my back uselessly before falling along with their owner.
“Saints…” one of the hunters whispers.
“Our people said she only has a fire affinity,” whispered another.
“Must be melded. She’s a bigger threat than we thought but the plan is the same. Wear them down and take them out.”
The brave speaker steps forward, face obscured by a hood. He ignores the body of his friend, standing beside the decapitated man and raising his shield. That’s cold, even for this place. “Are you going to make me recite the words?”
I shake gore from my hand. He doesn’t flinch. The onlookers on both sides remain stoic. Saints, I’m not going embarrass myself by being the only one losing my nerve over this casual and completely unnecessary murder. “Why are you going this far? Torchbearers are fire casters, aren’t they? He wasn’t part of their guild and I doubt you are.”
“I’m not.” The shield-wielder rolls his shoulders. “I wasn’t even meant to be here and plan to leave as soon as this business is handled. The guilds always repay their debts, for good or ill. Did you really think we would back down because you’re strong?”
“Truly? Yes.” Like any intelligent person would.
“If you’re done stalling.”
“One moment.” All eyes move to Yulia. I’m surprised she isn’t gagging or vomiting into the snow. She is handling all of this with a grim frown, no trace of her bubbly smile anywhere. “Lourianne Tome has the right of rest between challenges. She may request a rest of six hours.”
Six hours? Doesn’t that make their plan a complete waste of time?
[You may rest six hours every three days,] Bell clarifies. [She has not mentioned that restriction because she hopes they will lose their nerve…and also because she wants you to take the break so she may speak with her father.]
“She doesn’t need it,” Alana says. To anyone else, it sounds like the harsh demand of a superior, pushing for results. To me, I hear the confidence of my future wife who has a much better understanding of my abilities than anyone else here. Yulia is appalled, frowning heavily at her sister. Alana doesn’t even look at her, eyes focused on me.
I flash her a smile before returning my gaze to my opponent. “You heard her.”
“If it’s any condolence, I regret it coming to this. You would have made a fine hunter or knight. Your death is a loss to the kingdom.”
“And yours isn’t?”
“There are hundreds of my caliber in Quest alone. Many of them have come here. You’ll die in one of these challenges or you’ll run and we’ll hunt you down. Your fate was sealed the moment you left the Hall.”
