Year 783 Octavus, day 15 of the seventh monthof Domorus
Sword clashed, the air was thick with tension as Sidastir rolled out of the way from the incoming cut. With one simple motion, he disarmed his opponent who could only reply with a shocked expression.
“How long?” asked Sidastir
“Can’t have been more than ten seconds,” Magnus replied, and Sidastir grimaced at his opponent who stumbled out of the ring, dizzy from the beating.
“Our selection is starting to get worse for each person showing up.”
“The only one with a spine is Mar Frisgris!” said Magnus in a boisterous grin and Sidastir replied with an eye-roll. Magnus had tried to convince Sidastir to hire Mar with every opportunity that presents itself. Currently, itwasn’t such a bad idea since he is the only one who actually defeated Sidastir.
Hiring him as the leader of the guard would give the boy a bit more experience, which would aid him in the future as the leader of the Furies along with Akana.
“He better show some spine since I want him to keep an eye on the errand boy of the Phoenixprincess.”
Akana had presented Alacer Nemoris and Sidastir had immediately disliked the man. He did not trust the Phoenixprincess and certainly not her personal guard.
Sidastir had wanted to follow Akana to meet with the princess today but Akana had convinced him to try to recruit some guards by saying that they can meet uplater in the camp. Akana wanted to inspect the recruits. Sidastir had a feeling Akana didn’t trust his choice of guards.
“Line up,” Sidastir hissed between clenched teeth and stared grimly at the stumbling recruits. Most of them seem distracted though as heads turn toward a commotion at the entrance of the camp.
The relevian soldiers’ eager voices could be heard all over the camp as whatever excited them slowly came closer. Soon Sidastir spotted what created the commotion, or more exact, who created the riot.
Aman in silken clothes, a white toga, and a glittering silver iron torso armor decorated with golden leaves. He wore a silver wreath that showcased him as aclose relative to the Fire Empress. Considering the man’s age, he must be one of her four sons. If she hadn’t birthed more kids in Sidastir’s absents.
“How many children have the Empress, Magnus?” asked Sidastir as he tried to count the kids he remembered.
“How would I know? Five according to my father but she might have gotten some on the side. Why did you ask?” said Magnus as he turned around to stare at the prince basking in the attention from the soldiers.
“So which of the children is that? Or has the old crow gotten a younger consort?” Sidastir gestured towards the man as he let his sword rest upon his shoulder.
“I’m not sure calling the Fire Empress an old crow will go over well among her soldiers. But if I don’t remember wrong, two of her sons are trained in battle. Laus and Laurus. I know Laurus through my father and trained the boy. Nice lad. That is not Laurus so it could only me Laus. “
Laus turned towards them but Sidastir just ignored the man which seems to really make the prince sour. Bitter enough towalk over to them. Eyes followed the footsteps of the prince, but Sidastirstill refused to look at the man.
“I would have to apologize. I almost missed you in the crowd, Rial!” Laus’s voice echoed above all those willing to listen.
“No smallaccomplishment considering my race. I assume manners and general knowledge wassomething the empress didn’t give to her sons,” said Sidastir with a detachedexpression on his face. Magnus released a groan in frustration.
A noise like that of angry buzzing bees started to sound among the soldiers but Sidastir merely let loose a frostgale, freezing the agitated crowd to their core. Laus back away slightly since electricity sparked when the cold air hit the warm. Sidastir himself didn’t even flinch. Laus recovered quickly though and straighten himself.
“I heardfrom you royal consort that you were visiting the military camp. He spoke ofyour superior ability in battle, Rial.”
Sidastir’seyes twitched, as his so-called superior skill could be questioned. He had been to battle but used magic over the swords. Magnus’s second groan just echoed his own thought, maybe he shouldn’t have bragged in front of Akana too much. “Why would Akana send this absurd…”
”Your Rial Caraid told me that I ought to teach you some of the relevian sword skills,”said the prince, and with a gesture towards the soldiers, they started to laugh like this was the best comedy they had seen in a year.
“Ah, he sent him to be to learn some manners,” thought Sidastir and a smile erupted overhis face. Though his skills were mediocre compared to others, he had enough experience to beat a prince who has never seen battle and most victories came from people giving them to him. Magnus pulled at his arm, trying to tell him togo easy on the prince, but Sidastir would never deny Akana’s request. Theprince will not leave without some lessons in humility.
“I would more than like to learn the art of swordsmanship from the greatest swordsman inParcis,” said Sidastir, his voice dripping with sarcasm but prince Laus just huffed pridefully like he hadn’t heard it. They both grabbed a training sword while waiting for the soldiers to form a circle around them for the duel.
The two duelists started to circle each other as the atmosphere grew tense. Laus perused Sidastir who returned his inspection with a cold smile. Out from under the soldiers hooting and encouraging their prince, Sidastir could hear Magnus shout for Sidastir to avoid hitting Laus in the face.
Laus suddenly made an attack. Swinging wide with a ferocious roar, the mistake of an amateur.
“And unusually aggressive for a prince of Relevium.”
He countered the prince's sword perfectly, aiming a hit straight over Laus's glorious face. Magnus released a powerless keen while Laus howl like a little girl when his nose begun to bleed. Laus might have been taught by the finest swordsmen in Relevium but he had never bled before.
A soldier dashed towards the prince to give him a handkerchief to wipe away the blood. Laus glared at Sidastir with fury in his gaze as Sidastir had just insulted the queen which only made Sidastir want to deliver another hit over the royal face.
“Do you need rest, honored prince?” asked Sidastir. Laus made an attack and Sidastir could hear the soldiers' wary calls as they knew what the prince clearly had forgotten. Attacking someone when you were off-balance was a mistake.
With one simple swing with his word, Sidastir laid a hit over Laus’s hand while grabbing his sword with his other. With a whimper, Laus let go of the sword and stumbled back, holding onto his aching hand. Sidastir threw both of the training swords to Magnus, signaling that theduel was over.
“Ithink I have learned enough from you, prince Laus. I can clearly not take inall of your glorious skills in one and the same day,” said Sidastir, making an elegant bow before turning around to leave.
“Should you really waste your time on me right now?” asked the prince suddenly with a triumphant grin on his bruised face. Sidastir swirled around, surprise written all over his face. “Your little barbarian husband is with my sister. She has promised to take him to a festival in the city. I assume that such a low king as yourself has no knowledge of which festival they are visiting.”
Sidastirwatched the prince's smug face with a rising bad feeling, turning slowly towards the person he knew could answer him. Magnus grew paler and Sidastir could feel fear rise in his chest.
*****
Sitting down beside Victoria, Akana had a splendid view over the Arsi Iteri, the street of fire, from the balcony overlooking the street. The street started from Forum Solaria, continuing all up the way the mountain to the Imperial Palace. Currently, the street was a peculiar sight as people lined up along thebuildings, hooting and shouting as they left the center of the street clear.
Ceva Le Gu stood beside him while Alacer Nemoris loomed by the side of Victoria, watching the street with a smile as Ceva tried to sneak peeks at him with a frown. Finally, she leaned in closer to Akana and whispered into his ear, avoiding curious listeners to listen in,” I don’t like him. His task is to defend but hehas the ideal pose of someone who is going to attack.”
“He is aguard. His task is to defend us.”
Akana ignored her and instead turned towards Victoria who inspected him with openinterest. “What kind of festivity is this?”
“The festival is called Iter Depretiorisat, The Path of Redemption,” Victoria explained eagerly. Akana could feel Ceva growing rigid and he heard her uttersome harshly-worded Balkravian words which might have sounded foreign to Victoria but Akana have heard Ceva curse before and knew that the words were not meant for sensitive ears.
“It’s one of Relevium’s largest festivals, created to honor Lucis during the summer solstice,” Victoria continued while Akana felt a rising foreboding as the Aevitian religion was far from a gentle religion and many of their celebration ends is someone getting hurt. Though most of them were during winter as Lucis turn from the god of Light to the God of Darkness, Mortua, during the winter. The god of light is celebrated with festivities and song while the God Of Darkness is honored by sacrifice and prayer.
Akana’s thoughts were interrupted when the spectators suddenly raise their voices in cheers, laughter, and applause as they encouraged something to hasten. Underthe voices of the spectators, you could hear a dark scraping noise attended byscreams echoing something far from the joys of the spectators.
Akana could feel his heart beat faster as he smelled something close to iron hitting his nose. A scent he was familiar with from last year. He leaned over trying to geta better view, ignoring Ceva’s attempt to stop him while looking out at the spectacle. His gaze fell onto the spectators and his whole body grew rigid,eyes widening as the air left his lungs.
An enormous sitting sculpture of Lucis, entirely made of gold, was dragged up the street by around fifty, maybe more, nude men and women being harmed by the thorned whips of the Aevitian priests. Each time a whip landed, a reading streak was leftonto the pullers' backs and blood fell into the streets. Their trek left a red-streaked street adorned by crushed bodies when one of the people pulling the sculpture fell in exhaustion and was crushed under the sculpture as the spectators cheered.
Bile rose from Akana’s throat as he watched a man shout for them to stop pulling before his body vanished under the sculpture followed by a disgusting sound ofcracking bones and screams. The crowd laughed and cheered, and Akana could only describe the sight and truly demonic.
“Akana,” mumbled Ceva carefully and tried to hide the scenes from Akana who could feel the sweat drip from his forehead. Emotion swelled, as anger and grief made him tremble. Why? He hadn’t used magic. He shouldn’t feel…
The white fire burned in veins like smoldering magma as his fist whitened as he gripped the chair. He forced himself to exhale, sending out a streek of smokeas he tried to calm his mind. He could hear fuzzing around him but couldn’t focus on them. He instead focused on closing the gate to his pathos. He needed to shut off his emotion but no matter how much he tried, a storm in his mind kept the gates open.
Having no other choice, he closed his eyes and reached into his mind, whispered a simple word. “Sen.”
His eyes slowly opened again and they were now glowing in silvery-white light.
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