Chapter 8 (Part 1)

Sook and Dulani scattered to opposite sides while Borzou charged straight through his men toward Pirouz. Borzou bellowed a war cry and swung his flaming axe. Pirouz jumped and used his wings to push himself back at an upward angle to cushion the impact of the blow; his sword blocking the axe.

Some soldiers hastily dried their blades on their tunics while others charged at the trio. Sook slammed one with her tail, sending him flying into the wall which remained unmoving while the soldier’s body crumpled against it with the sound of popping bones and clanging metal. Another managed to cut her side with his flaming sword. She howled in pain before clawing his sword arm. Her talons tore through the flesh. The soldier grunted and his blade clattered to the floor as he retreated. He gripped his arm to staunch the bleeding.

Airborne soldiers aimed their bows at Sook, but Zenebe swiftly directed the water into a concussive pulse, knocking them back and sending their bows flying from their grips. Yet, thanks to military discipline, they quickly recovered and turned their attention to Zenebe, drawing their swords. They let loose their own war cries and dive bombed the hydrosophist with blades ignited.

Dulani rushed forward, sliding underneath the swing of her combatant’s sword and picking right back up into a sprint. She leapt forward and drove both katars into the undersides of the descending angels. With her katar’s blades fanned out, even the chest pieces of the soldiers were unable to protect them completely. Dulani smirked with satisfaction as she felt a blade in each hand find flesh and sink in deep. The two angels abruptly halted, desperately maneuvering away to dislodge the blades that slipped through the armor.

Zenebe took a second to send another two single-impact jets of water and then curved them in opposite directions, sending the two soldiers careening to the ground. They both landed with a clamorous thud.

Dulani landed gracefully after protecting Zenebe from his assailants but the soldier she had slid under was now at her back, hoping to run her through with his blade as soon as she touched down. Dulani took notice and planted her feet firmly together before jumping straight up, doing a backflip over the charging angel and landing on top of him. She drove her katar into his vulnerable shoulders. The soldier collapsed in front of Zenebe with Dulani still on top of him.

Zenebe knocked the angel’s sword away with his staff as Dulani looked up at him and blew her hair out of her face. “Here I am, narrowly avoiding death, because you just had to pick a fight with the Ydalian military!”

An angel soared over their heads and collided into one of the four pillars in the room, causing a small rumble and a descending dust cloud from the roof. Sook walked forward while cradling her injured side and spoke through a clenched jaw, “To be fair, they picked a fight with us first.”

Pirouz and Borzou faced each other, hovering in place in the sky outside the garrison headquarters. “Look around you Pirouz! Look at the state of our beautiful city! And here you are, betraying your nation and our Lord for some forked tongue trash!”

Pirouz’ eyes narrowed on Borzou and readied his sword, “I fight for them all. They have shown to be true comrades. They do not tolerate me out of circumstance like you.” Pirouz flew forward with great speed, aiming his flaming sword directly into Borzou’s gut.

Borzou dodged to the side and pulled his axe overhead with a two-handed grip, “You were lucky to be tolerated for as long as you were!” The air itself cried as it was sundered by the force of his axe swing. Pirouz spun, to parry the axe and deflect its course. He barely managed; the fire singing the bottom edge of his tunic.

Borzou continued flying forward and swung from his lower left side to the upper right. “Females should never have been allowed in our glorious infantry. You are a testament to that policy’s failure!” Pirouz ducked under the attack to slash at Borzou’s arm while he was still recovering. Borzou drove his foot into Pirouz’s chest, breaking his concentration and knocking him back. “Atchar created females with distinct purposes in mind. Combat not being one of them. And no matter how much you try to deny it, you will never be a man!”

Borzou threw his axe, the blade spun horizontally. Pirouz couldn’t dodge it in time. Instead, he stopped flapping his wings to fall then push his wings against the air above, forcing him to speed downward. He sharply redirected, looping back and driving up at Borzou. Without his weapon Borzou was a sitting duck. The younger angel caught the reflection of the flaming axe in his sword at the last second. The axe was boomeranging back toward Borzou and Pirouz was directly in the line of fire. Once again, Pirouz stopped his wings to fall and again turned that momentum. Pirouz swung down then came up at Borzou from behind. Borzou needed to focus on catching his axe if he wanted to retrieve it with his hand as opposed to his back. The commander realized what Pirouz was doing; he caught the axe and quickly spun to hack into Pirouz. With Pirouz’ flaming sword driving through his chest piece and into his shoulder, Borzou’s eyes widened with the horrifying realization that his opponent’s speed had far exceeded his expectations. The armor kept the sword from driving too deep, but the burning fire filled his nostrils with the smell of his own seared flesh. Borzou gritted his teeth, but managed to maintain his grip on his axe. He grabbed Pirouz’ wrist with his left hand and swung again, enduring the pain from his right shoulder. Pirouz was unprepared; his hesitation nearly cost him his life. His quick decision barely made up for it. Using Borzou’s grip as leverage, he pulled the two of them together, their chest plates letting out a loud clank as they touched. He was so close now; rather than the blade, it was Bourzou’s grip and the shaft of the axe that hit his shoulder.

Pirouz used this opportunity to push the sword just a little deeper into Borzou’s shoulder, making him grunt with pain. “Atchar has abandoned you Borzou. He favors me in this conflict!”

Enraged, Borzou released his axe; letting it plummet into the city below. He gripped both of Pirouz’ shoulders pushing the sergeant off of him. He exhaled with relief as the sword was pulled free from his flesh. Once again, he grimaced through the pain. Borzou took a page out of Pirouz’ book and ceased all motion in his wings, allowing himself to fall and dragging Pirouz down with him in his iron grip.

“Atchar would never favor a weak traitor such as yourself!” he flew toward the balcony, slamming Pirouz down onto the stone floor as he landed. Pirouz gasped as he hit the stones; his armor absorbed the impact, but pain still radiated throughout his body. Borzou stepped back and placed his armored hand over the sword wound, inspecting the blood on his fingers. Pirouz coughed and struggled to get to his feet, his bones still ringing from the impact.

Borzou clenched his fists and closed his eyes. He thought back to his father drilling him. His father was always so fiery and righteous. When Borzou thought of Lord Atchar, he pictured his father. The man led with an even heavier, more belligerent, hand than he did. He forced Borzou to train for hours and hours, even if his fingers blistered, his eyesight grew spotty and joints popped time and time again. His father would scream at him for his folly in this battle; his infernal disappointment was palpable even from the grave. Borzou’s eyes flew open as his armored fists erupted into bright blue flames.

Pirouz stared wide-eyed as he shakily stood up, “You’re enchanting your plated gloves? Are you mad?! You’ll sear the skin off your hands?!”

Borzou smirked, “My hands are tough, just like my father’s, they can take it. And this color…” Borzou inspected the blue fire flicker before him, “This is proof that Atchar favors me! My fire burns far more brilliantly than yours!” Borzou charged forward with sudden speed. He seized Pirouz’ wrist before he could swing his sword. Pirouz shouted from pain as the blazing hot plating of the glove burned his skin. Borzou punched Pirouz in the face, the fire burned his cheek as he went flying across the balcony and into the railing. “I can’t believe someone like you, who should have considered yourself LUCKY to be allowed to fight alongside us, would be arrogant enough to claim Atchar’s favor in this battle. Your presence alone erodes the credibility of our institution!” Borzou walked slowly toward Pirouz who was still slumped against the railing, “I will finally have a chance to purify your filth from our ranks.”

Pirouz, too, thought of his father. His father was stern, but he always knew when to pull back and give Pirouz space. Ever since he was a child, Pirouz wanted to explore the world and he was adamant on joining the military in service of his goal. His father warned him over and over not to romanticize the battlefield. There is no glory.

Only survival. Surely enough, once Pirouz got to the front lines, he was completely disillusioned. He witnessed the horrors of his comrades trying to hold in their own guts, as Atchar’s glorious chosen cut down subdued combatants, and he held his tongue when he was reprimanded for interfering in the needless killing. Yet, he also bore witness to people’s better natures. He was lavished with gratitude when he saved a man’s wife. He was recognized for his valor after successfully executing a seemingly hopeless rescue mission.

His father was right, there was no glory on the battlefield, but there was purpose. His original purpose was the journey, the discovery, but he never truly got what he wanted out of it. He could not die here. If Yesod is truly real, then he would travel to the far reaches of this planet and discover places untold. He had to leave Ydalia with these adventurers. He had to finally see the world like he always dreamed.

Pirouz’ flames burned brighter and hotter. He felt the infernal energy coursing through his veins. Borzou stood over Pirouz with fists clenched. The commander inhaled sharply and lifted both his arms above his head, clasping his hands together in a double axe handle, the blue flames blazing wildly above him. He brought his fists down with the full weight of his body. Pirouz blocked the strike with his left arm. The force proved too great; for his shoulder slid out of place, causing him to yell in agony and nurse his left shoulder. Pirouz looked up at Borzou, his eyes glowing a vibrant orange like a demon from the depths. It was self-contradictory, a power born from righteous commitment made the angel appear positively unholy. Pirouz stabbed his sword forward, forcing Borzou to step back.

Borzou looked at Pirouz with contempt, “What a disappointment you turned out to be. There were times where even I started to believe you could be a decent soldier, but that’s what evil does; it deceives.”

“You know, Borzou, I really couldn’t give a damn what you think of me.” White-orange fire erupted from Pirouz’ sword leaping forward and engulfing Borzou’s upper body. Borzou staggered backward; his searing armor burning his skin underneath. Pirouz struggled to his feet, his left arm dangling at his side while he maining his grip on his sword with the other.

“The only impressions that matter to me are from those I respect.” Pirouz sped forward, ducking under Borzou’s swinging fists and jabbed his sword into Borzou’s gut; the burning heat of the blade melting Borzou’s armor. The melted metal slid the sword deeper into its target. Pirouz quickly pulled his weapon out and stepped back as Borzou placed his hands over the wound. The night air rang out with the satisfying sound of metal on stone as the commander’s knees hit the balcony with a crunch. Pirouz used his tunic to wipe Borzou’s blood from his blade and disdain dropped from his lips, “You asked me not long ago what name my father gave me. My name is Pirouz and it means “victorious”.”

Sook carried two unconscious soldiers over to the pile of wincing angels and tossed them on top. Dulani sat at the edge of the fountain, annoyed, while Zenebe tried to patch her back left shoulder. “Ow! Would you watch what you’re doing back there!”

Zenebe smirked as he continued, “You should be more grateful that I even know how to treat wounds since neither of you can.”

Dulani ground her teeth, “I wouldn’t have any wounds if I didn’t have to cover you all the time!”

Sook held her side as she walked over to them, “I’m worried about Pirouz. Don’t you two think we should go provide back-up?”

Dulani waved her hand, “You know men and their egos. He wanted to fight Borzou one on one. I say, let him have at it. I certainly didn’t want to fight that mountain of a man.”

Pirouz entered the room nursing his left shoulder and limping on his right ankle, “Well, you won’t have to worry about that.”