A grin flashed across Vol’kesh’s face, “Hedge Knight? It suits you,” the larger man readied his weapons, “Well then Hedge Knight… show me your worth!”

The two men charged at one another, steel clashing against steel as they collided. Vol’kesh took the offense at the first clash, the lack of one arm made up with a battle-crazed enthusiasm that pressed Helbram to the backfoot. The armored man tucked himself behind his shield, the pain from his shoulder regressed to a dull ache as the rush of battle started to come over him.

He knew these movements, he’d replayed them time and time again in the dream.

A strike from the right, followed by a sword from above and another from below.

He caught the first two attacks with his sword and shield and absorbed the third with his breastplate. Their weapons briefly locked, he shifted his stance and slammed against Vol’kesh’s chest with his uninjured shoulder. The blow barely made the Quetali budge, but it gave him enough of any opening to bring his sword across the bandit’s chest, leaving a scratch against the hardened skin. The commander, unfazed, resumed his assault.

A flurry of his blades, followed by a straight kick to Helbram’s torso

The armored man intercepted the swords with his shield, twisting to deflect the final, hardest blow off to the side. Again, the disturbance to the Quetali’s stance was only slight, but it was enough to give Helbram the time to catch the larger man’s leg mid kick. He slammed the pommel of his sword into Vol’kesh’s knee, knocking the Ether infused leg off course. Helbram twisted his body to avoid the blow entirely and followed the dodge with a slash across the Quetali’s abdomen. The blade bit deeper this time, forcing a wince across the larger man’s face. Still, Vol’kesh did not halt his attacks, and instead his pace quickened further.

His pattern changed, switching from its hacking motions to a mix of slashes and stabs.

Helbram fell in rhythm to the commander’s movements, tanking the slashes with his armor and shield and using his sword both deflect and counter the stabs that were slipped in between attacks. His defense was not perfect, and though he avoided any major injuries the occasional strike would slip past his guard and armor, leaving cuts at his joints and exposed flesh. Darkness crept further into the center of his vision, but he kept his eyes on the bandit’s movements and left cuts of his own across Vol’kesh’s flesh as their melee continued. He could only guess before, but he now knew that the Quealti’s defenses weakened whenever an attack infused with Ether was performed. It was then that he could strike, leaving wounds that dyed the man’s red skin a deeper shade.

Vol’kesh was strong, there was no denying that, but Helbram had seen stronger. He could do this, he could win.

Roars erupted from both men, growing in intensity and drowning the sounds of battle that rang around them. The fighting started to slow as men looked to the source of such fury, bearing witness to a storm of steel that dashed itself against a monument of flesh and iron. 

Blood splashed and streaked on the ground around them, but neither of them moved as their weapons clashed. Helbram could feel his limbs grow heavier, his vision grow darker with each swing, but he pressed on. Vol’kesh’s movements were slowing, and as they did Helbram’s sword bit deeper and deeper every time he landed a blow. His blade was warped, and his shield reduced to a piece of broken and bent metal as they deflected the blades that were growing more suffused with Ether with each blow.

What felt like an eternity passed before their flurries degraded into a slug fest of weapon against weapon. Still, neither man would move.

Helbram caught Vol’kesh’s swords with his own, but fatigue had worn away his strength and he stumbled forward as he pushed the attack away. The Quetali recovered before Helbram could regain his footing and blood red energy surged from his weapons as he brought them down on the armored man. Helbram grit his teeth and flipped his sword to cover his forearm. He brought his arms up and shifted his feet, catching the swords at the crests of their swings. Shock rattled his body and his shoulder broke through his adrenaline fueled numbness with a burst of pain that drew a scream from his lips. Vol’kesh drew his head back as Helbram kept his blades at bay and the armored man mimicked his movements. They struck their heads against one another, again and again until Helbram’s vision went white. Then, he felt the Quetali falter.

His vision returned as his body granted him one last surge of strength. The tattered remnants of his shield hung from his wrist as he wrapped both of his hands around the handle of his sword. He was falling forward, but his gaze remained fixed on Vol’kesh’s now exposed chest as the larger man stumbled back. Helbram drove his sword forward, its length warped but ready to strike true through the Quetali’s heart, and watched as its tip faltered against the glyph that formed over his opponent’s skin.

Fire followed, a burst of flame that washed across the side of his head and lifted him from his feet. Sound left him as he heard the beginnings of a woman’s scream. He tumbled through the air, feeling it brush against his face as his helmet was torn from head. He felt nothing when he hit the ground, vision tumbling as he rolled and ended up face down. A distant ringing filled his ears, growing steadily until sound returned to him.

“MARLIIIIIIIIIIIIN!” Vol’kesh roared, a noise so loud that it washed away the clash of the battle in the distance.

Helbram tried to move, but his strength had left him. His arms would not respond to his thoughts, and he could only watch as the halfling appeared before the bandit commander as if materializing out of thin air. No arrows protruded out of his body like before, and composure had returned to his expression as he regarded the larger man.

“Spare me,” Marlin said in an impassive tone, “If anything you should thank me for saving your life.”

“This was not your fight!” the Quetali snarled. He stepped towards the halfling, but stopped once he bumped into the barrier that appeared around the smaller man.

“I’ve no time for your petty honor. I paid you to do a job, one that you are failing spectacularly,” He regarded the battle by the building’s entrance, “Or shall I set your men on fire with the townsfolk?”

“Pray that you do not live through this day wizard, for we will have words when this is over.”

Vol’kesh turned away from Marlin, readying his blades as he marched towards the men holding the bandits back. He spared a quick glance at Helbram, and in that brief look he saw regret on the Quetali’s face. 

Helbram put all his effort into his arms, producing only a twitch from his fingers. His vision began to darken, the sounds of battle fading from his ears. His eyes started to close and resignation once again took hold of his heart.

This was all he could do. This was as far as he could go…

…

…

…

Fury swelled within his chest, an anger that flooded every inch of his being, fueling his vision, his hands, and the roar that he let loose from his lungs.

“Vol’kesh!”

The Quetali stopped and turned his head, eyes widening at the sight of Helbram staggering to his feet. The armored man’s arms hung loosely at his sides, blood dripped from his hand and from the brown hair that matted against his face. Still, through all of that weariness his blue eyes were alight with resolution.

“Our fight is not finished,” he said, his voice iron.

Marlin laughed, “What? When you can barely stand? Truly you are a fool.”

“Silence mage,” Vol’kesh said, “You’ve earned no right to say such slander.”

The halfling rolled his eyes, “Enough of this delay. You wish to be a hero young man? I’m afraid you’ll just have to settle for dying with your face in the dirt,” His hand snapped up, a spell forming within his palm. One that was never released as an arrow pierced his wrist.

Marlin yelled in pain, a sound that was drowned by the furious cry of a woman. Jahora stood above, eyes a pure white as Aether surged around her, ruffling her robes and lifting her hair. The pillar of light next to Helbram flickered before the Ruhian artifact began to spark. It was bleeding Aether, right into the gnome above.

The halfling’s eyes widened in fear and he raised his hands, the three rings appearing around his head as he too began to pull magic from the device. A flow that was cut off as Leaf peppered the wizard with arrows, forcing him to focus on deflecting the projectiles as he retreated back.

In this chaos Vol’kesh walked towards Helbram, his swords at his side. No battle-crazed joy was within the Quetali’s eyes, but as the two men stared at one another Helbram could see the larger man was regarding him with a mix of respect and resignation.

“I had thought it to be an orc or an elf under that helmet, but a human? That is quite the surprise…” he said, swords raised, “It truly was a good fight, and for that I will grant you a warrior’s death.”

The words washed over Helbram, his arms still limp at his side. He closed his eyes and took in a breath. The air was dense, the Aether bleeding from the Ruhian artifact settling over his shoulders, and he felt for that presence at the back of his mind once again. He raised his hands in front of him and opened his eyes.

Time slowed down and he felt an awareness come over him. Vol’kesh was running towards him, his swords primed to strike as he drew closer. Marlin stood off to the distance behind the Quetali, fending off both spell and bow as Aether continued to bleed into Jahora. Battle continued to rage around them, the cries of men and the cadence of Garuf’s orders filling the night sky. He pushed it all aside; his hearing, his vision, his pain… and that is when he felt it, the small crumb of Ether that sat at his core.

He reached out to both it and the presence at the back of his mind simultaneously. His skin tingled as the Ether began to move to his hand, and he felt Aether condense at his palm as the spell in his head grew all the more prominent, releasing the moment Ether reached his fingers.

Aether and Ether mixed as the claymore appeared in his hands with a surge of power that threatened to shake the weapon from his grip. He clenched his hands and brought the weapon back. He did not need to see where Vol’kesh would strike, for he knew where to place his blade. He brought the sword up, and only felt a brief resistance as his senses flooded back to him.

Vol’kesh stood in front of Helbram, his weapons dropped at his side and with a new, fresh cut across both his abdomen and chest. Blood poured from the wound and drained from the Quetali’s mouth, but the larger man looked down at Helbram with no trace of shock or regret in his eyes.

“Do not forget this moment. For this is the moment that you felled Vol’kesh tok Orgrima. You… have shown your worth.”

Vol’kesh fell to the ground, weapons clattering against the dirt as he lay unmoving. The claymore fell from Helbram’s hands and strength left his legs. He fell back, and by the time he hit the ground his vision was black.