Valor and Violence

The wind picked up, the frigid mountain air cutting through Ferez until his bones ached. He stood, regarding Fahroul, their robes flying in the growing maelstrom as they sized each other up.

Gods, but I bet this looks epic. The thought warred against the panic rising in his chest. To his knowledge, there was no fear induction effect to Umbral magic, but something about this man…

It was the eyes. Every time he stared into them, he had to fight the urge to freeze on the spot. That and the knowledge of the sheer gulf in power between them.

He closed his eyes, and took a breath, told himself it didn’t matter. That he made his peace when he gave Leo the whistle, and now was the time to do his job. He opened his eyes and took a step towards Fahroul, and then another, and another. Across the landing, Fahroul did the same.

The two men broke into a sprint.

They screamed their war cries to the sky as they drew close. Ferez threw his hands to his sides and jumped, a blast of fire propelling him through the air at his foe. He wreathed his fist in flame as he fell back to the ground, roaring as he struck, his fist crashing against a shield of black smoke. He grit his teeth and poured Talent into the attack. The roiling smoke’s movement became more frenzied as it started to give way under the onslaught. With a victorious cry Ferez broke through, the cloud dissipating to reveal… nothing. Fahroul was gone.

He spun, a curse on his lips, as a tendril of smoke smashed into his chest and sent him flying. He hit the ground and rolled, tossing out a pair of Flash Bombs to buy him some time. Fahroul phased past both of them in turn and shot towards him, lashing out with jagged spears of darkness. Ferez smacked them aside with bursts of flame and clapped his wrists together, palms out, a stream of white-hot fire engulfing the Umbrian.

It wouldn’t be enough to stop Fahroul, but it would be enough to force a reaction. Sure enough, through the flickering flames he caught glimpses of the Umbrian stalking towards him, an angled shield of dark magic deflecting the torrent. He was still in his regular form, unfortunately. He was too smart to risk being blown apart again, but Ferez had accounted for that too.

A hand wrapped in shadow broke through the fire, followed by Fahroul’s smiling face a scant foot from Ferez’s own. The shadow mage’s grin disappeared as Ferez plunged his sword through the open palm. Fahroul screamed and Shadow Stepped away, doubled over and clutching at his wrist as he rematerialized, blood dripping down the sword hilt and spattering the floor.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Ferez didn’t even try to keep the gloat out of his voice. In the overall scheme of things, a flesh wound like this wouldn’t change the outcome of the battle. But in the coming days, when the shadow mage looked to his hand or felt the pain of pulling scar tissue, he would remember Ferez; the mage who had hurt him.

“You bastard,” Fahroul said, looking to Ferez, his eyes ablaze with raw fury. “I will make you suffer for that. I will strip you, piece by piece, until- “

Ferez lobbed a Flash Bomb at him, almost catching him before he phased away.

“Sorry, that was rude of me. Please, continue,” Ferez said, his eyes crinkling up in a sadistic smile. Fahroul looked far less than amused. He burst into shadow and Ferez spun, his hands up, ready to immolate the Umbrian when he rematerialized behind him. But Fahroul wasn’t there.

“What the…”

His eyes widened as he felt a surge of Umbral magic, and he looked up to see a cloud of angry shadows surging towards him. Fahroul had Shadow Stepped into the sky!

Ferez didn’t have time to react, the Entropy Stream slamming into his upturned face and knocking him to the ground. He fought the urge to scream as he poured Talent into his skin. Opening his mouth would just give the death magic more surface area to strip away. He felt the clothes evaporate off his body and a burning sensation like millions of tiny hooks scraping away at his skin. In seconds, the stream would overwhelm his defences and those hooks would turn into scalpels, and then meat cleavers as it reduced him to molecular dust.

At least I gave him something to remember me by, Ferez thought. At least Ingrid and Leo got away.

In his final moments, he thought he heard his love’s voice, carried to him through the ether into the world beyond. He frowned. Now he focussed on it, he could definitely hear Ingrid’s voice, but it wasn’t whispering sweet romantic nothings into his ear like he expected. It was the angry screech he was far more familiar with, the words coming in and out of focus as the stream bombarding him snatched the sound away.

“You miserable cu-, I’m gonna rip your – and – off and choke you with them! Then I’m gonna shove my -”

I’m glad I’m not catching everything she’s saying, he thought as the Entropy Stream vanished. He cracked an eye open to see Fahroul falling from the sky, buffeted by blasts of air.

What the…

Ferez turned his head, his skin screaming in protest as it brushed the coarse rock beneath him, and saw Windshear diving towards him, talons outstretched. Leo was in the saddle, reins in hand and a manic grin on his face, while Ingrid stood behind him, holding on with one hand while abusing Fahroul with the other. Both his eyes shot open as he realised what was about to happen.

“Nonononono!”

His protests were ignored as the predator shrieked, snatching him off the ground in razor sharp talons that were big enough to encircle his torso. He shut his eyes and braced for the pain, but miraculously, nothing came. The bird could have pierced him through and through like a sharp knife through silk, but despite its speed it had retrieved him from the ground with nary a nick.

That’s a relief, Ferez thought as the beast flapped its wings, rising higher into the sky and streaking away from the outpost. As they gained height and speed, he became cognisant of the frigid alpine winds rushing over his raw skin.

Every. Single. Inch of raw skin.

He looked down at his body as they winged towards the horizon. I really wish I wasn’t naked, though.

*

The next day saw Ferez hunched over a low bench in an Aetherial mage’s practice, a very nervous apprentice working his way over the senior mage’s body, hands aglow with healing light. The boy was apprenticed to the healer the Griffon Riders had sent for. It was actually the master that was indirectly responsible for Ingrid’s escape; she had regained consciousness during the healing process, beat him unconscious after extracting information from him, then used her marginally improved condition to rampage through the outpost. As far as any of them knew, the mage was still up in the outpost, possibly even alive. Ferez made a mental note to send Leo back up to fetch him before they departed.

Despite all this, they trusted the boy, partly because he had finished healing Ingrid’s injuries without issue, partly because the oath of an Aetherial mage forbid causing harm to anyone. But even so, the sensation was, if not painful, then definitely unpleasant. The feeling of the micro lacerations in his skin knitting back together made it crawl, metaphorically and physically. He lifted the tankard to his lips and took a gulp of warm ale.

“Alright everybody. We need a plan, thoughts?”

Leo raised a hand. “I know I’ve advocated this before, but what about fleeing to Skjar and changing our names?”

“That is as stupid as the last time you mentioned it. Next!”

“Leo raised his hand again.

“Yes?”

“We flee to Tok Risim and change our names?”

“I’m banning you from talking. Ingrid?”

Ingrid was seated beside Leo, glaring at the wall. When he said her name, her eyes slid over to meet his. “I may have something, actually.”

“Well? Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“We go to my cousin’s wedding.”

Leo groaned and dropped his head to the table. “Fucking Skjar and your backwards traditions. This is not the time for a holiday, Ingrid! We have one of, if not the most, dangerous mage in the world after us!”

“You what now?” the apprentice asked, perking up at the information.

“Shut up and keep working,” Ferez growled. The boy ducked his head and got back to it. “Leo has a point, Ingrid. What do we have to gain? Maybe we should accept we need the colleges’ help.”

Leo’s head shot back up as Ingrid hissed at Ferez.

“Not a chance,” they said in unison. They glanced at each other in surprise, then huffed and turned away.

“At any rate, there’s a reason for my suggestion. One; being in a longhall surrounded by Skjar warriors can only be a good thing, so long as none of them figure out who Leo is,” she trailed off, giving him a side eye.

“Right. Because I killed your brother.”

“Yes. I may have let bygones be bygones, but the rest of the family won’t. And second, my father has an heirloom. Never paid much mind to it, to be honest, I never wanted anything of his, the nasty bastard, but it’s an unenchanted Resonance Ore dagger.”

Ferez perked up, Leo’s eyes took on that gleam it had when he smelt money, and even the boy stopped working.

“As in, pure, Resonance Ore?” he asked.

“Boy. Work!” Ferez growled, again. “But yes, I can see how that would be useful. If we can get close enough, we can shut down his attacks, leave him exposed. I doubt he could Shadow Step with Resonance Ore sticking out of him.”

“Exactly!”

“How do we get it?”

Ingrid broke eye contact, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “There’s dowrys in Skjar culture. But we’re a raider society. Coin, slaves, that’s all par for the course, really. So the dowry usually takes the form of a treasured item, requested by the groom when the betrothal is announced. Tradition and decorum usually dictate the request is something small and sentimental to show the bond between the families, but in theory, it can be anything. And, though the father of the bride can refuse, it’s rarely, if ever, done. A man like my father couldn’t afford to lose face by breaking the code.”

“Ingrid,” Ferez said, waving the boy away and reaching over to clasp her hands. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She looked at him, a shy smile on her face. “Ferez, will you marry me?”