Chapter 8 - Father’s Legacy

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Water dripped down a stalactite, forming a tiny pond right below it. With every drop of water, the pond rippled, disrupting Kai’s reflection. 

As his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, Kai deliberated over his next step. A near visible aura of anticipation shimmered around him. He had waited months for this, imagining how it would go down between them each and every single day. And the day couldn’t come soon enough. As he was hidden away in Erasmus’s castle training for this very battle, biding his time, Hakan was somewhere in Marius’s empire being… 

Kai trampled on that thought; he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not when he was about to fight the most fearsome merman he’d ever had the misfortune of meeting. 

He never made the mistake of tearing his gaze away from Marius’s.

One of Marius’s dark eyebrows arched. “Oh? Forgive me for keeping you waiting, then,” he drawled in response to Kai’s taunt. 

Kai did not allow his mocking derisiveness to anger him. As Erasmus liked to say, anger was the enemy in a fight. He had to stay clear-headed if he wanted any chance of winning. 

And win he would. He swore on all that was holy that he was going to make Marius pay for all that he’d done to him. 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

To the untrained eye, Marius affected an aura of calm indifference, like he was on the most tedious of errands. But Kai knew better. Behind the icy dark eyes was a singular focus that Kai was forced to reluctantly admit was awe-inspiring to say the least. He knew Marius had spent the last months searching high and low for him, leaving no stone unturned. Such news did not stay hidden for long, and he’d hardly been clandestine about it. 

Thus, he’d always known that Marius finding him was an inevitability. It had always been a matter of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

In his hand, the sword was a familiar weight that offered him reassurance. He knew the blade as if he had forged it himself, knew every tiny chip and scratch on its surface, knew its length and how far it would extend to draw blood and tear flesh. Indeed, it was a fine blade, perfectly balanced, as if made specifically for him. Erasmus had entrusted the sword to him, bidding him to take care of it. His father’s legacy.

So it was only fitting that he use his father’s sword to take revenge on his killer. In fact, it would be poetic justice. 

I can do this. I can win, he assured himself, summoning his confidence. 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A few months ago, he would have never considered himself capable of taking on Marius, let alone beating him in a one-to-one fight. But things were different now. He was different. He’d mastered that which King Marius himself coveted. And what a slap to the face that would be once Kai demonstrated as much to the arrogant, self-confident bastard. He inwardly grinned,  imagining the look on Marius’s face once he kicked his ass; the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. 

Humble yourself, the Spirit of the Sea cautioned with its echoing voice. Kai could feel its alertness, and it was inadvertently affecting him. He is no ordinary merman. He is powerful, and he stands undefeated. 

I have you. 

You think he doesn’t know that?

Kai’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the Nostrazian King in his black-as-night armor, aptly nicknamed the Black King. 

Are you trying to tell me he’s come prepared?

He comes with his witch. The Spirit said by way of an answer, drawing Kai’s attention to the ashen merman for the first time. The ‘witch’, as the Spirit had labeled him, was standing three paces behind Marius. He examined his aura and saw that it was nearly as gray as his hair, and it wrapped around him like a second skin. Kai reached out his ‘feelers’ -as he liked to call them- and felt the witch’s magic. It was strong and ancient, like Erasmus’s.

Well, so did I. 

Though he couldn’t see him, Kai knew that Erasmus wasn’t too far away. 

“Well? Are you going to just stand there or are you going to fight?” Kai blatantly taunted, not caring whether Marius realized it for the provocation it was or not. 

The Spirit sighed in defeat, but soon fell into sync with his master’s pace, also matching his intentions. 

Marius beckoned him forward with a motion of his hand. 

Drip. Drip-

The tiny pond exploded. Dozens of icicles shot out of it, heading straight for Marius’s head.