The Mad Swordsman's Descent: The God's Blade
Author's Note: Good day and welcome dear readers! Today I shall be recounting the tale of the mad assassin Narza of the God's Army. Now, I don't think it needs to be said, but I'll do it anyway, Narza, he's a badass. As such, I wanted to bring more of this man's tale to the light, now, bear in mind that while in many respects I try to keep to the cannon established by Gumi, I do deviate sometimes into my own personal interpretations. Do feel free to leave any comments and criticism, I'm always looking to better my work. Please note that I am of course constantly forming ideas for new stories that may not necessarily be this one, each story shall follow a different unit and more will be released in each as the ideas come to me.
*I of course do not own Brave Frontier, I bear the high reverence of Narza to the gods that created it though, Gumi*
...
"Oh gods above, may you bless this humble knight, the willing vessel to your power, that I may use it to subdue those sinners among us who would speak your names in vain. I shall slay them for you, and you alone, and bring light back to their hearts, darkened by the foul seeds of hatred and deceit, Amen."
"Oh, Lucius' sake, can you just spare me the praying theatrics and be on with it! I've got somewhere to be and I'd prefer to get there this week!" Narza's silver eyes rose to those of the transgressor, he who spoke ill in the name of the gods. This archest of archers, a bodyguard to some princess or other from Vriksha. He drew his sword, clutching it reverently as he held it to the sky, once more beseeching the gods for aid in his duel, and then stood at the ready, both hands gripping the blade's hilt.
The archer immediately fired an arrow as he saw his opponent assume a ready stance, another on the string before the arrow had even sailed a foot. Narza's eyes narrowed in concentration, watching the arrow come at him almost pathetically slow, yet it was a pace so many wouldn't be able to follow, but so many didn't show his reverence to the gods. In a flash he brought his sword up, hacking the shaft apart in midair, without missing a beat he spun out of the way of the second arrow that came flying at him, turning and slicing that one clean in half as well. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, a sensation he'd long since associated as the gods warning him, he palmed his sword to his left hand, drawing it around himself and holding the blade flat against his back, he felt another arrow ding harmlessly off the steel. He spun again, so lightning fast that he still cleaved the arrow in half as it descended after hitting his sword.
Seeing one final arrow being released at him, he put his right foot forward, pulling his right sword arm back and launching his sword like a spear. It spun through the air towards the archer just as he released his last arrow, then watched with great big eyes at the blade rapidly approaching him. The sword struck the arrow point on point, and cleaved it in twine almost before it left the bowstring. His sword continued to travel, flying past the man's bow and catching his tunic right above the meat of his shoulder, pulling the archer back from the force behind it, pinning him to the old stone wall, he yelped in shock, his prized bow falling from between his fingers and clattering to the rough cobblestones below.
"And that, heathen, is why you do not disrespect the gods," Narza explained, placing an iron clad boot directly into the archer's chest for leverage as he yanked his sword out of the wall, the man slumping forward, painfully banging his head against the silver plated knee of the triumphant knight. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir…" The archer wheezed out, his lungs being crushed beneath the force behind the knight's leg.
"Yes what?" Narza demanded, digging his foot harshly into the man's gut.
"Yes I will no longer disrespect the gods!"
Narza's boot suddenly pulled back, the archer took a lungful of air, and promptly fell flat against the cobblestones, breaking his nose almost instantly. Narza looked up from the pathetic man, scanning the La Veda guard's training courtyard, seeing a number of them eyeing him angrily, apparently he'd been supposed to show any visitors La Vedan hospitality, but there was nothing for it, the archer had transgressed against the gods, and deserved punishment. He shrugged off the glares of his peers, sheathing his sword.
The old courtyard was pristine, smooth gray stone that glazed with frost in the winter so finely you could skate on it, test dummies lined nearly every visible wall, piles of straw and other stuffings strewn around them, and racks of all manner of weapons piled next to the dummies, from maces to bows to blades to hammers. Not that Narza needed any of it, his strength came from the gods, he had no need for practice, and the lifeless sacks of old oats and chafe had done nothing to insult his masters.
He felt eyes on him, a vein stand out under his left eye, this was no sign from the gods, no gods would've created this one. He turned slightly to peer over his shoulder at his fellow, a short man, went by the name of Will, Narza summoned all his willpower not to sneer at the sight of him, he spoke first.
"Can I help you sir? Perhaps I could direct you to the Coldstone Asylum?" Will faked a grin at the jest, just as irritated by Narza, though not nearly as tolerant.
"Well yes, for one you could explain to me just what in the hells you think you're doing to Lario? You do realize he's here protecting the royal emissary of the Vrikshan Principality?" As he spoke, Will clasped Lario's hand, hefting the fallen archer to his feet and sending him on his way, grumbling curses at Narza under his breath."Your actions could spell a declaration of war if you don't control yourself!" Narza glared at the knight for a moment, not caring enough to respond, wondering how Will had come to earn the shield he now bore on his left arm. It was emblazoned with the La Vedan emblem, the Wings of Lucius as it was often called, cast in gold upon a man who would cower to an archer who disgraced the very god their knighthood swore to defend. Will's dull teal hair was framed with a jagged crown of command, rising in two gold spikes at either side of his head, at its center a bright red jewel. A similar red jewel adorned his blue and gold breastplate, as well as the hilt of his triple pronged sword, which he gripped tightly in his right hand. The message was one all La Vedan knights were taught of their oath to Lucius; devotion in mind, devotion in heart, and devotion in blade.
He turned fully now, deciding to humor Will in his useless protests, glancing past Will's shoulder he saw, inevitably, the knight's lapdog, Aem. The boy's shoulder length brown hair billowed about him, unkempt. His cyan eyes showing only pure disdain for Narza, who could only grin, shaking his head slightly. The naive youth would follow Will to the gates of hell and back, Will could tell him that Narza was a god-slayer incarnate and Aem would probably believe him. Yet the pure, unmitigated hatred he displayed to the man that so repulsed his idol, it was...just adorable, Narza mused silently to himself. The knight seemed so very much like a schoolchild, small frame bundled up in practice protective pads over his knees and elbows, a bright red tunic beneath it sealing the image in his mind.
"You seem to be under the impression, my poor, little Will, that I answer first to the king, I will not cower before the petty royalty that comes before me seeking hospitality, if they cannot respect the power that governs them. They think themselves above the rule of the gods, and if they are so inclined, then I've no hospitality to offer, merely the embrace of my steel. Reverence to the gods, in mind, in heart, by blade, you'd do well to remember Will, that these are our obligations, before those of kings. And you, boy," he stopped finally, glaring at the trainee who'd thought himself unnoticed behind his master, "would do well to learn this yourself, if you're to be anything to the gods, or La Veda, besides a punching bag."
And with that word, Narza decided not to await a reply, simply turning and walking away, away from the drama developing in the courtyard, perhaps to the market. Aem made to follow him, shouldering past Will, but his idol's gloved hand stopped him, the snarl never left his lips.
"Hey Narza!" he yelled from his position, he felt the hand tighten around his shoulder, but he ignored it. Narza stiffened, so very tempted to keep walking, but some irritating sensation in the back of his head urged him to turn and hear the boy out, so he did.
"Yes lad?"
"Are you going to be at the tournament later?"
"Haha!" Narza chuckled, a slight grin playing over his handsome face,"I've no use for your petty tournament, if you all wish to compete to see who has the bigger sword, far be it from me to interrupt."
"You know Atro's going to be there?" Narza tensed at the mention of the name, his disdain for the the monk boy near equal to that which he held for Will. "Word is he's drawn Urias from the stone." That statement hung in the air, turning it stale and bitter in Narza's mouth, he should laugh, diffuse the false tension the idiot boy created, but something about the way he'd said it, about the way people looked up to the golden haired friar boy...perhaps he would pay a visit to the knights tournament after all…
"Hmm, and here I thought you liked the monk, but trying to egg me into joining your ridiculous tournament, why doom his legend before it can begin?" Silence hung in the air at this, Aem unable to muster a response, Narza laughed, a bit delayed, but it kept the same effect, he left the courtyard, a miffed pair of knights in his wake, glaring daggers at his back.
...
The market was veiled brightly in the silver light of the moon, it was quite lovely this time of the year, Narza had to admit. Those nights when the moon was so full in the sky that the world beneath seemed like day, those nights, were truly a gift. On this night, as Narza found himself wandering aimlessly through the assembled crowds of brightly dressed visitors, he spotted a peculiar sight. Thieves weren't uncommon in La Veda, in fact they could probably be called one of the city's most well known resources, but this one tonight, this one was different. The green shadow moved too quickly for any people to seem to pin him down, weaving in and out of booths, gracefully snatching coins, it flowed like water through the murky tides of people, chaos was a situation it thrived in, where most thieves in La Veda tried to impose themselves onto those they stole from, this one was content to go with the flow of things.
Narza contented himself with watching the thief work, his keen and quick eye able to track the distinctly green cloak easily in the crowd, but finally he drew away, seeking better entertainment. He passed a young woman, her blond hair showering over her shoulders as she walked, humming gently to herself, a bright smile on her pretty face as she held up a dusky red dress, white tresses flaring from the hips of it, reminding Narza somewhat of a La Vedan lilac. He traced the path he'd watched her walk back to a stand, the one he assumed she'd purchased the dress from.
It was a simple wooden stand, a bright red cloth draped over top of it with no name to be seen, not that names really mattered during the festival, people had so many places to shop at they rarely paid attention to much at a stand that didn't wow them. The woman standing behind the counter was absolutely radiant by any standards, an angular, but beautiful face, violet eyes shining with just a hint of mischief. Her long hair hung down to the small of her back, a rich walnut brown. Across her forehead was a tiara assembled of, oddly enough, a bundle of La Vedan lilacs, their rosy red cores encircled by delicate cream colored petals. She wore a tight fitting black corset that sat well on her curves, over a slightly puffy dress, though he couldn't make out its color in the light. Narza found himself unconsciously smiling at her, only realizing he'd done so when she returned it, displaying a flawless set of dazzling white teeth.
"Why hello there handsome." she addressed him, her voice low and sensual, which Narza felt himself somewhat drawn to. "Looking for something for your lady? Or perhaps you just came here to speak with me.." she let her statement hang in the air, leaning over the stand, being sure to give the handsome stranger a good view of her chest. He chuckled, unfazed.
"I was actually quite interested in the dress I saw a woman walk by with, she seemed unusually pleased with it," he replied to her, "not to say that it wasn't a gorgeous dress," he added calmly, not wanting to offend, the woman seemed pleased by this, withdrawing herself from her leaning position.
"Ah yes, that there was the Bariuran princess as it happens, sprightly girl that one, so much to learn," she mused, violet eyes half lidded in a reminiscent way. "Maybe a brave knight in shining armor like yourself can sweep her off her feet," she leaned forward again, her palm flush against her cheek as she spoke, almost conspiratorially to Narza," you see, she's with this swordsman from her native lands, engaged actually, dark, mysterious type. But, unlike I'm sure you are," she added, followed by a sultry wink, "he's absolutely clueless when it comes to women, they've been together for years apparently, nothing more than the occasional chaste kiss in the public eye from that one. Well our little princess is the adventurous type, she's not a fan of a man who doesn't seize what he wants, so she was hoping my dress might, give him that little push. But, as it stands with her, I'd say she'd pounce on just about any man that came through and swept her off her feet. And I bet, you'd get bonus points if you can knock that hot head fiance's block off as well." As she added the last part, she slowly crept one hand up Narza's breastplate, her nails clicking faintly off the metal, accompanied by a slight sizzling sound, though Narza pushed that from his mind, frowning slightly.
"She's so desperate she'd be pleased if someone beat her fiance?"
"Who said anything about her?" She added, winking again, Narza actually felt himself blush at her brazenness.
"Hmm, well I can't say I'm the type to go looking for women to woo, but I'll keep that in mind. I see you're a fan of the La Vedan lilac," he stated, gesturing to those across her tiara and also gesturing behind him, indicating the dress he'd seen the princess walk with. At the mere mention of the flower, the woman's eyes suddenly sparkled happily, a broad, genuine smile gracing her features as the man before her continued to peak her interest.
"I am! I absolutely ADORE flowers, and that's one of my favorites, flowers inspire all of my dresses as you can see." Mentioning this, she stepped back from her stand so that Narza could see the dress she wore, a thick green fabric, almost like wool, the woman had more wealth than her simple little stand let on it seemed. As he watched though, she twirled on her heels, and to his amazement, the fabric seemed to shift as the light hit it at different angles, traversing the full spectrum of radiant, bright colors, back in place, she curtsied, excitedly awaiting his opinion.
"Amazing! It seems plants of all kinds are your strong suit, I never imagined I'd see the sheen of the world tree outside of Vriksha." She beamed, pleased that someone had finally figured it out. They chatted for what felt like hours after that, from the different flowers they'd both encountered, to the state of the Continents. Narza learned that the woman, her name was Nalmika, was one who came from quite a wealthy background, dresses more a hobby for her than a living, she'd actually made some sizeable donations to the festival. He discussed with her in great detail the intensity of his devotion as a religious man, a subject she found extremely interesting it seemed, but he was happy to share. He noted that more often than not Nalmika seemed to skirt around more personal questions aimed at her, focusing instead mainly on him, but he thought it was nice, to bear himself as he'd only done before to the gods on holy ground. He felt comfortable around the woman, even given her flirtatious advances that arose more often than he thought he'd ever feel comfortable with.
In the middle of a discussion on, in Narza's opinion, the abhorrent lack of faith in the La Vedan knighthood, a figure appeared from behind Nalmika, Nalmika grinned at the newcomer. The woman wore a dress designed after one of Nalmika's favorites, the Agni ashen lily. The silk was a smoky red around its edges, particularly the sleeves, while the rest was an ashy gray. Narza narrowed his vision, and actually spotted the extremely fine red fibers sewn throughout the gray, that were made more prominent every time the woman took in breath; giving the impression of her dress lighting up whenever she did so. Her midnight hair was hung high on her head, obviously professionally done, her dewy blue eyes spoke volumes of her distaste for the attire though, her bony face obscured with a scowl for Nalmika.
"I look ridiculous in this body," she spat out, Narza frowned, shrugging off the wording, finding it odd.
"Now now dear sister, no need to drive away our guest," Nalmika laughed, draping a dainty arm over her sister's shoulders. The woman raised her eyes to him, surprise scrawled faintly in them, as if she'd only just noticed him.
"This monkey? What use have I for pleasing him?" Narza frowned again, tucking his hair behind his ears, the comment making him self conscious. He wondered briefly what it was about these two that would make him care, the only times he'd ever bother with his appearance being when he attended church.
"This CHARMING man, is Narza, Phee, and I would so like it if I could become very...good friends with him," her voice dropping sultrily, Phee rolled her eyes.
"Whore" Phee muttered.
"Hmm?"
"Oh nothing, sister, nothing at all."
Narza smiled, amused at the sisterly quarreling, taking it as his cue to leave at any rate, he bid them farewell, bowing deeply to both of them, he noticed Phee's hard expression soften slightly at the gesture.
"Oh Narza!" Nalmika chimed, grabbing his arm as he turned away, he stopped. "Are you going to be at the Knight's Tournament?" He looked towards the central square to the grand clock above the city, twenty minutes to midnight, he'd not considered the tournament since his argument with the punching bag earlier. "That lad Atro is rumored to be entering, wielding the famed blade of the gods no less, " she offered, seeming to echo Aem's earlier words. Her expression was suddenly solemn though, no trace of the flirtatious woman he'd spent the past hour speaking with, she was looking for an answer here.
"Pfft. Blade of the gods indeed, the monk could never command such favor, I would have him begging for mercy in an instant, that insolent rat." Narza thought he saw a ghost of a smile played at both sisters' lips at this, but he wasn't sure.
"Well, it would be incredible to see you put that to the test Narza. You see, Phee and I made a bit of a family donation, an old heirloom of ours, and we would be delighted to see you claim it. It's an old sword, one not nearly so cloaked in legend as Urias, this blade was wielded directly by the gods, it is said that he who controls the blade, truly becomes the vessel of their power."
Narza's ears perked up at the sound of this, not only would he prove his worthiness to the gods in so winning this tournament, but he would finally be able to put that damned orphan boy Atro in his place, he made up his mind. Thanking Nalmika, he turned to head to the city square, determined to reach it before midnight so that he could enter, not that speed was much of an issue for him, In an instant, he was gone, swifter than the wind he moved, and even quieter.
...
"So, you truly mean to take a champion then Nalmika? And a MONKEY no less."
"Why yes Phee, I do, he's got eyes the color of starlight and the confidence of the Agni emperor," Nalmika responded, smiling longingly as her thoughts turned entirely to him; the strength in his muscles, the speed and flexibility he possessed, the ferocity he projected when he was passionate...she shuddered, realizing how long it had been since she'd taken a man to bed with her, it'd been decades.
"Why sister, you look just about ready to faint, thinking of that man, surely you aren't intent on greasing your palms to utilize a human?"
"Oh I would be greasing more than my palm.."Phee scrunched up her face in disgust, the image Nalmika drew steadily burning into her mind. "Your mind really is bound more tightly than your legs dear," she began speaking in a very husky tone, causing Phee's stomach to churn at the implications, Nalmika whispered in her ear "perhaps I can find you a nice, big, burly minotaur to loosen them both up, eh? How does that sound?" She watched as her sister turned absolutely green in the face, she sighed, a smile breaking out nonetheless.
"I think it sounds appalling! "
"Well, think it over, I know you'll come around," she winked, Phee sneered at her. "Well, if you're so intent on being a killjoy, I think I'll just head out on my own and see if Narza's every bit the blademaster he fancies himself."
"And leave me to sell these ridiculous dresses in your stead? Do not think me so easily fooled Nalmika!"
"Ah yes, truly dear sister, your intellect far exceeds what I credit you with," Nalmika feigned, grinning beneath the cover of her hand, she so adored placing Phee in such situations, watching her older sister act like she had a choice was always so...adorable.
"As much as I...SO look forward to watching a bunch of monkeys waving their swords about like a group of brain dead school children, remind me, how long MUST we wear these...outfits? And my hair in such a fashion? I wouldn't force my worst servant into these rags as a punishment!"
"You heard master, Phee," Nalmika began, smiling at her sisters discomfort as she carefully sealed away the various boxes she had scattered about the stand that contained all her wares, "we remain until we've established if there are any clear and present threats to us that arise during the festival, just be glad they chose not to send Zelha."
"Ugh, "Phee shuddered, the thought of the manipulative wench sending chills down her spine, "anyway, how long is this infernal festival to be then?"
"One week," Nalmika beamed at her mockingly. Phee sighed.
...
The crowd assembled in the square fell to a hush as the Shadowdome descended over them; the goal of it was so that people would be entirely focused on the fighting, since the city mages controlled the only lights. For the most part, those entered in the tournament stuck to their designated crowd sectors. Knights of La Veda, Vriksha, and Sama all stuck to the eastern half of the square, and Agni, Bariura, and Atharva knights all stuck to the western half. They'd come up when they were called for, initially the competitors had a designated place to wait, but they'd found in recent years that the crowds were much more invested when the knights stood among them, when they could clear the way for those championing them.
After going to a nearby vendor and purchasing a Ganju Gobbler, Narza settled himself at the outside edge of the throngs, allowing himself a wide berth from the people, and a perfect view of the arena. The divining light appeared high over the elevated ring that had been erected for the competitors, its light isolated to the ring.
"Lllllladiesssssss aaaaaand geeeentlemeeeeeeen," came an announcer's voice, its source unapparent,"our competitors!" There came the general thunder of applause from the crowd, Narza took the opportunity to raise his treat in the air, uttering a brief prayer of thanks for his food and the show. "First up, the soon to be crowned prince of Bariura, Arus, the Fire Knight!"
Narza watched as a large, snow white mare cantered up the steps of the west end. Seated on it, the princess he'd passed earlier in the market, wearing the very same dress she'd bought from Nalmika. The Arus fellow rode behind her, instantly Narza saw the validity in what Nalmika had told him, the man wasn't one to seize a prize. He wore a long, crimson blade across his back, held down by tan lashings, his dark hair billowed about him as he waved to the crowd. The man had all the world before him and didn't take even a second to show his love for the woman he sat with, small wonder he bored her.
Narza spotted another rise up onto the platform, this one unannounced oddly, and from the corner of the ring no less. Narza recognized the green robes almost instantly, the self same thief he'd watched at the market, what was he planning? Narza bit heartily into his Ganju treat savoring the rich taste of blueberries as he watched, the thief suddenly blew a pillar of fire out in front of him, to the delighted cries of the onlookers; perhaps this was some elaborate set up by the knight to yet woo his woman?
The thief rolled what appeared to be a number of thin, red bars, which came to a halt beneath the couple's horse, neither of whom seemed to have noticed the intruder. In an instant, the bars exploded in a flash of brilliant blue and green light, accompanied by billowing clouds of smoke and a harsh fizzling sound. The horse reared back on its haunches, flinging the couple from the saddle, the crowd fell deathly silent at the sudden turn of events. It took a moment for anyone to once again spot the dismounted couple through the great gouts of smoke that still roared from the bars the thief had tossed, but when the smoke had cleared enough, Narza had to laugh.
The thief had the princess clutched in his arms, apparently having caught her before she'd hit the ground, muttering something in her ear that he doubted anyone could hear. The newly single knight Arus, which Narza imagined he'd very quickly be becoming, was lying flat on his face a few feet away, the horse bounding in great circles around him as it attempted to ease the flaring pain in it's hind legs. The thief grew bolder still, stealing a kiss on the young princess' lips before the entire crowd assembled, the very thing Narza wagered she'd been hoping Arus would've done, the crowd remained surprisingly silent, not sure what to make of the development. Indeed, Narza couldn't figure it out himself, he wasn't positive if this was part of an act or if the thief really had the moxie to pull a stunt like this in front of all the people of the Six Continents, after a moment's deliberation, Narza wagered the latter, beginning to like the thief.
Arus' recovery was heralded by a collective intake of breath by the entire crowd, as well as the princess suddenly breaking away from the thief and gasping. Unfazed, the green cloaked man uttered one more statement to the princess, causing her to light up the shade of her dress, this seemed to tip the fire knight over the edge as he grabbed hold of the thief, whirling him around, and throwing a brutal punch. The crowd watched with rapt attention as the thief delivered a fierce elbow to the side of the knight's head, who shook it off after barely a moment of shock. The knight yanked the blade from its bindings across his back, the thief drew two rusted old daggers, the crowd cheered; it seemed there would be a preliminary fight for the princess.
All in all the fight lasted about a full minute, but the back and forth between the two combatants drew out every slash and crossing of blades like a baited breath. Flames coursed over the fire knight's blade as he began to get infuriated by the smaller man's insistence on living, in one powerful swing he bore through the old daggers the thief used, leaving the man defenseless. Another rapid fire series of strikes and the small man suddenly GRABBED the blade in midair, another collective intake of breath, then the thief threw the blade aside, dashing past the fire knight. Turning on their heels, both competitors gave eachother a final glare, before the fire knight once again charged forward, blade held high. He leapt up into the air, burning red flames ominous beneath the divine light above, and the thief actually leapt up after him. Narza was almost too scared to watch the outcome, but took another bite of his pastry, too engrossed to look away. Spinning in midair, the green cloaked man delivered a roundhouse kick the second before the flaming blade would've cleaved him in half, and the fire knight EXPLODED. The prone form of Arus sailed clean out of the arena, smoking all the way, and landing with a loud thud in the western half of the square, onlookers jumping out of the way to avoid collision, leaving the body a wide berth.
All eyes were on the thief now as he stood, legs visibly shaking, though Narza doubted anyone noticed that at this point as he stood, triumphant. Holding his hands up for silence, the thief began to deliver a rousing speech, for once, someone would probably hear a pin drop in the deadened silence of the square. Finishing his treat, Narza found himself registering the thief's words almost subconsciously, he'd always been angered by the fact that the king's treasury warranted a room larger than the average house in La Veda, while the churches and homes of the people remained mere hovels that barely scraped by, he found himself gritting his teeth in agreement. The fallen knight was rising again, flames burning intensely, the crowd around him stepped back further, Narza began barreling towards him, not about to let the man ruin the effect the thief was having on the people, praying forgiveness from the gods for what he was about to do. As Arus made to climb back onto the stage, Narza appeared behind him in a flash and slammed him down to the ground, dodging away on instinct from any potential counter. Arus though, barely seemed to register the setback, not even scanning for the source of the attack, a great set of fiery wings sprouted from his back now, and he leapt up onto the stage.
The thief whirled around, stunned to see Arus up and about so soon. Not even bothering to put up a defense a second time that evening, the thief bolted, taking off towards the western exit of the square, directly past the blazing knight. Leaping out over the crowds' heads, he opened some sort of satchel on his chest, and suddenly zel was raining down on the people, much to their delight, a few odd coins clinked harmlessly off Narza's head as he watched the man pass, then dash off into the darkness. Arus, not even caring to go to his princess, to see if she was wounded in any way, took off in hot pursuit of the thief. Narza made up his mind, deciding he wanted that thief protected, he raced after the pair, aiming to beat them to the edge of the dome.
It proved quite an easy task, in seconds he'd caught up with them, and in a couple more overtaken them, taking refuge in an alley near to the edge of the dome, waiting in ambush should the thief be overtaken. Arus dashed overhead of the thief, landing with a crash directly in the path of the thief, wings grazing the dome's edge, the thief took off in the direction of Narza's alley. The smaller man slammed directly into Narza, who took the blow easily, simply staring down at the thief, he spoke.
"That's a lot of money you threw out there," He said simply. The thief was clearly stunned, nobody could ever quite imagine how fast Narza was until they'd seen it first hand.
"Uh huh," came the response, apparently he'd spent his vocabulary on the speech, Narza decided to ask some questions.
Did you steal the money from any churches?" "No." "Because it'd be a real shame if I find out you defiled the gods." "I didn't." "Where's the money going?" "Orphanages mainly." "All of it?" "Well a bit to new equipment so I can continue this too." "Good, you don't claim to be a complete saint." "No sir." There was a pause finally, then "Alright, get going then, I'd run, no need for anyone to see what's about to happen to this one."
There was a moment's hesitation in the thief's movement, Narza sighed, "Or I could just leave you to him, I'm sure the way you were running it's all part of the plan." That did it, the thief took off, leaving Narza facing a rabid-looking Arus at the mouth of the alley, golden eyes glowing dangerously. "I wouldn't, he's under my protection that one," he told Arus simply, his only warning.
"Then I'll just have to kill two people today," came the response, Narza shook his head, 'wrong answer' he thought to himself. Arus launched a furious attack, which Narza easily deflected from himself, unimpressed. He punched the knight in the side of his head as he wound up for a slash at Narza's throat, knocking him out cold against the hard stones below. Sighing, Narza gathered up the body, throwing it over his shoulder, before trekking back to the square.
...
Narza forcibly threw the body up onto the western end of the arena, he rolled a few feet, then stopped before the princess, who leaned over him, eyeing Narza worriedly.
"He's fine, he'll probably be waking…"Narza began, before his statement was promptly finished by Arus rousing, groaning while clutching the side of his head.
"Wha...what happened Priscilla?" He asked, delirious.
"You uh...you fell dear, one of the mages, his uh, spell went a bit off course and struck the horse, he flung us off, you uh..cushioned my fall, but it looks like it put you out for a few minutes, I'm sorry dear." Narza raised his eyebrows, impressed by the lie, mayhaps the woman did care for her knight, or she just didn't want to harm his self esteem, he'd hardly be of use then. Arus seemed happy to accept this explanation, apologizing profusely for not protecting her better.
"And it seems Arus is back in the ring folks, so we'll bring up his competitor, from the La Vedan Republic, knight Atro!" The crowd cheered, pleased that the show could finally get underway. Narza ground his teeth as he watched the monk ascend the western stairs, long blond hair bound in a braid that hung to his lower back, the boy brandished a blade nearly as tall as he was, the famed White Blade, Urias. Arus stood finally, seeming steady on his own feet, and advanced to the center of the ring with Atro while Priscilla scurried off of the ring, her mare in tow. Both opponents bowed to one another, then raised their blades skyward. A brilliant light engulfed both of their blades, shining a dark blue. "Alright folks, you know the rules, the first man to land three blows against their opponent will win the match. Each strike landed will result in a flash so that the crowds can see when everything happens. Your blades have been dulled so they won't be severing anything, so it's encouraged, don't hold back! " As the announcer finished speaking, a bolt of lightning cracked from the light above the ring, striking the ground directly between the two opponents, the force of it flinging them to opposite ends of the arena, the match was on.
Arus leapt forward, launching into a flurry of attacks, whirling about and smashing his blade against Atro's, who stood there, calmly blocking the attacks, before sweeping under the flaming sword and jabbing his blade solidly into Arus' chest, a bright flash erupted. The fire knight grunted, grabbing his chest, and the crowd cheered, Atro backpedaled away from the knight while he had the chance, resuming his defensive stance. Arus roared, the fiery wings from before appearing now on his back, he leapt forward, stabbing forward at Atro with blistering force, death in his eyes. Atro artfully dodged around the attack, whipping his blade about and slamming into Arus' back, right between the roots of his wings, his blade was once more engulfed in light, Arus grunted in frustration. The crowd was on the edge of its seats as Arus's blade was swept up in an absolute inferno in his frustration, he spun around and began again, his sloppy form showing through his frustration as he continued the same relentless attacks that had failed him thus far, and indeed Atro remained stone faced against the attack, blocking them easily, just as his instructor had taught him in the art of fencing. Rather anticlimactically, Atro simply ducked under another strike, stabbing forward into Arus' chest, his blade seemed to explode with light, and the crowd all leapt up, cheering wildly for Atro.
Arus slumped forward, the flames, and his will, vanishing from his person. Atro stepped forward, raising his arms into the air, inviting the applause of the crowd, before turning back to Arus, offering a gloved hand to the discouraged knight. He hoisted the fire knight to his feet, who looked on abashed, not willing to turn his head and meet the eyes of his beloved, it was one thing to lose to the knight prodigy Atro, but it was still quite another to be the first eliminated in the tournament, Narza reckoned that the bruise on his head hardly did anything for his mood either.
Arus eliminated, the announcer called for the next set of challengers. From Atharva was the sky knight, the famed Falma, the crowd fell to hushed silence at the sighting of the traveler. The silence was abruptly broken by three thunderous blasts suddenly filling the ears of the crowd, all eyes turned to the man responsible. The traveling partner to the great Falma, Grafl the gunner, his namesake pistol brandished high overhead as he fired another volley, whooping loudly for his comrade as he did so. A tan, tank of a man came up to Grafl as he moved to fire off a third set of shots, rapping the gunner on the shoulder, an enormous shield slung across his back, Grafl began shouting at the man and without a word the brute clubbed the gunner over his head with his shield, dragging the body away and giving a signal to the announcer to continue.
The challenger to the knight was the apparent tutor of Atro, the blade hero Zelban. His green plate armor shone majestically under the bright light of the orb above them, his triple pronged blade drawn and ready from the start, all business. Their blades were cloaked in magic, and their fight went on, much to the delight of the crowd. In the end though, the old blademaster couldn't maintain, his skills having been passed on completely to his student before him, exultantly, Falma left the field to make way for the next round.
For the next contestants, Will was called up, his pronged sword waved high overhead as he welcomed the crowd's cheers. His opponent was a tall, black armored knight who's suit appeared to weigh a ton on his shoulders, his broadsword emblazoned with a distinct fiery pattern. The prince of the Agni Empire, named after his kingdom. Will made quick work of the would be prince, his pronged blade scoring all three hits in a single swipe after Agni had scored two blows consecutively, he stalked away in disappointment. Will cast a glance down upon Narza, a fierce grin on his face, mocking the knight for actually attending the tournament he'd so ridiculed earlier.
Narza was called up next, to combat some knight of the Vriksha Republic. Stepping up to the ring, Narza was met with quite a surprising sight for a knight's tournament, a woman strolled up onto the platform, a blade in each hand radiating pale green light, her deep blue eyes zoned in on his own, an expression somewhere between anger and admiration on her features. Her turquoise hair whipped about her face with every movement. She wore a scandalously short green skirt, with a matching cloth band about her chest, leaving her stomach exposed. Overall it was quite a daring outfit, both for public and use in the tournament, she'd not a hint of armor on her. Faris, crown princess of Vriksha, though she'd never see the age of her rule if she always dressed in such a way, the girl needed a bodyguard.
On the call of the announcer, three blades were raised skyward and cloaked in blue energy, Narza uttered a short prayer to the gods, begging their forgiveness for wielding his blade in such a senseless duel, barely finishing before the bolt of lightning separated them, blowing him to the end of the arena. The woman charged him, baring her teeth as she brought both blades down in an overhanded strike, Narza held up his blade, blocking both strikes easily. Though rather than withdrawing, she held her blades there, attempting to force his guard down, he would've laughed at the attempt if it had come under any other circumstances.
"So you're the one 'at defeated me bodyguard!" She drew her blades back, this time bringing her blades down in an X, Narza brought his sword up and blocked both of the attacks, crossing the three blades as Faris pressed forward again, her face determined. "He made quite the ruckus about tha' one, I was curious what kinda man I'd be steppin' up to with all the yellin' he was doin', I'll admit, I din't think ya'd be so good lookin'" she added with a wicked smile. Narza fought to fathom what bodyguard she could be referring to, it finally dawning on him that she was referring to the archer from earlier, that shrimp of a man, what kinds of bodies was he meant to be guarding? While he was thinking though, he didn't even realize when Faris suddenly withdrew her blades and jabbing them both into Narza's sides, causing him to grunt and fall back, her blades flashed almost blindingly, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers and laughter. The crap-shoveling grin on her face made Narza suddenly very, very willing to punch her out.
Instead he settled for a simple victory. with a blood vessel throbbing under his left eye, he glared at the woman, and disappeared before her very eyes, instantly her grin was gone. In a flash he'd reappeared, slashing his blade into her exposed stomach, disappearing again, he landed a solid stab at her side, before turning about and slamming his blade into her back, causing her to cry out and fall to her knees, the whole match took a matter of about thirty seconds. There was no cry of delight from the crowd, only stunned silence, Narza had worked so fast that the people hadn't even registered the fighting. Narza turned to leave the stage, but not before a dainty hand fell on his shoulder, he looked behind him to see Faris, a sultry smile on her lips, her breath hot against his ear. "Well then, I don't think I mind the fuss all too much now, if ye ever want to be a bodyguard, ye only need ta ask," Narza tensed, his cheeks stained red, then simply walked away from the woman, not about to give her the satisfaction of a response.
The tournament continued on for hours it seemed, Narza was pitted against two other knights; the first was a blue coated man from Sama, their sole representative that year, wielding a blade of ice honed to a razor edge, but he fell quickly beneath a coordinated onslaught by Narza, who ended the match in a flat ten seconds. After receiving complaints directly from one of the mages overseeing the tournament, Narza was made to create a greater spectacle upon his next fight, the semifinals up against a woman from the Agni empire, going simply by the title of Lava. Narza took great pleasure in drawing out her humiliation, her occult, arcane chanting an affront to the gods not given from his previous opponents, she left from the semifinals ashamed, her blade not having so much as touched his in the ten minutes he drew the fight out for.
...
"So, Phee darling, is he not everything I told you he would be?"
"So he can defeat a couple of useless monkeys, you seem absolutely infatuated with him sister, I'm beginning to fear for my well being if you continue down this road," Phee replied, prickly as ever to her sister. They'd sat and watched the tournament from the start, particularly interested in Narza having dragged back the fire knight, who seemed to have been shelled out three astounding defeats that night. Phee bit hungrily into the pastry she'd purchased from a nearby vendor, a Molin Munchy as the fiery haired cook had called them. She found herself in a confusing state of self loathing, loving the tart taste of the apricots that filled it, hating the fact that she appreciated anything the monkeys had created.
"Well what's not to adore about him? He's handsome, he's skilled and precise, he will do, ANYTHING that a god asks of him, he's the perfect champion for me. Plus," Nalmika added with a wink to her sister, "he's got a big sword."
"Well yes I do suppose it's a rather impressive blade, I doubt it's La Vedan make…"
"No Phee, by sword I…"
"Perhaps it was made by that blacksmith we've heard so much about, Galan or some such, he's forged several blades that have come up in legend as of late."
"No Phee I don't think you understand, his…"
"Now THERE'S someone worthy of us taking the time to eliminate, before he can create anything with the intent of killing the gods."
"He's got a big d…"
"Lllllladiesssssss aaaaaaand geeeentlemeeeeeeen, it's time for the title match!" The crowd roared, drowning out the remainder of Nalmika's sentence, much to her annoyance. Beside her, Phee smirked, knowing full well what her cheap whore sister meant, pleased that she could make her squirm, then in a split second she frowned again, realizing how long she'd been around her sister to have actually known what she meant, she needed a vacation. " It seems like our final round is set to be a rumble in the kingdom folks! La Vedan knights, Atro!" Another roar of applause, "and, Narza!" Narza's applause was tentative, he'd certainly put on quite the show in his last match, but people were unsure how he'd approach his final duel. Both sisters leaned in at the mention of the names, extremely interested in seeing the match play out.
...
"Pleased to make your acquaintance sir, it's an honor to be fighting you, truly!" Atro extended his hand out to Narza, hoping to get off on good terms with him, particularly seeing as his past victories had been, for lack of a better term, slaughters. Narza however, didn't deign to respond, instead drawing his blade, and kneeling, offering up a quiet prayer, one to grant him the strength to completely destroy the fool monk, who would go about spouting such blasphemous nonsense as having drawn the White Blade. "Oh, good idea sir, I missed my daily prayers today as well, guess I got caught up in practicing for this, hehe." The monk knelt beside Narza, closing his eyes serenely and soundlessly mouthing out a prayer, the blood vessel stood pronounced beneath Narza's left eye, his rage building into a behemoth at the simple act, this fool, he would pay dearly. Rising to their feet in unison, the two knights held their blades at arm's length, extending them skywards, and allowing the blue energy to cloak them, the bolt of lightning tore down the center of the arena, and the bout for the true God's Blade began.
Narza began as Atro's previous opponents had, an immediate flurry of strikes, albeit much quicker, hoping to fool Atro into assuming he'd go down just as easily, change his strategy to befit it. He had to give the friar boy credit, even with the almost constant ringing of steel and the roar of the crowds, the boy still managed to keep pace with Narza, at least while defending, blocking each strike with seeming ease. Narza kept the assault until he saw the familiar flash in Atro's eyes, the same one he got the second before he'd attacked in every instance thus far, Narza pivoted around the strike that came seemingly from nowhere, slamming the hilt of his blade square into the boy's back, causing him to cry out and stumble forwards a bit, dazed and confused that Narza had even registered his attack let alone dodged it so flawlessly. Atro turned now, his eyes widening further as he noticed the crowds remained silent, Narza hadn't landed a blow with the blade of his sword. Narza gave him a wicked smile, making clear his intentions, he would draw out the boy's suffering.
This time, Atro pressed the attack, hopeful to possibly win by a quick three hits and avoid the wrath of the knight before him, whose silver eyes glittered with a savage, dangerous light now. Narza waited until Atro was nearly upon him, even the monk's inhuman speed no match for Narza's perception, he swung his blade up with savage strength to block the incoming stab, sending Atro back, reeling and cradling his right shoulder, the force of the strike having pulled something loose.
"U...Urias, give me strength," he said aloud, resuming his defensive stance, having learned the hard way that La Vedan fencing wasn't meant for offense. Narza's head visibly twitched in rage at the comment, the blood vessel standing stark red against his alabaster skin, eyes crazed and hate filled. Atro gulped at his opponent's appearance, good, let the boy squirm. Narza had planned on at least giving the knight a chance to prove his worth, to fight with at least some semblance of skill, but now, he'd just given up that luxury. Narza dashed forward, vanishing before Atro's very eyes with his speed, forcing the monk to gasp, scanning around the arena for his opponent, his training failing him in the face of such a devastatingly fast opponent. Narza appeared again behind the boy, landing a fierce kick to the back of his knees, Atro crumpled to his knees wordlessly, too stunned to react. In an instant Narza was on him, grabbing a fistful of the boy's hair, then slamming Atro's face into the floor of the smooth stony platform. The crowd gasped at the sudden display, but Narza paid them no heed, simply pulling the monk's head back up and repeating the process, over, and over, and over.
"You think, that you can come forth to the world, and slander the gods' name by saying that a worthless friar boy like yourself could draw their blade, and earn their favor?" Narza was beyond help at this point, beyond a point wherein he could reasonably stop, this knight of La Veda had transgressed against the gods he'd sworn to serve, and Narza would make an example of him.
"Urias….give...me..st..strength," Atro managed to rasp out between the broken teeth and the blood that ran from his destroyed nose into his open mouth. Narza felt his will snap.
...
Both sisters were absolutely delighted at the sudden display of ferocity by Nalmika's soon to be champion, eerie smiles alighting on their faces.
"Well?" Nalmika asked, already knowing the answer by Phee's telltale grin.
"I would be delighted see him serve, he will make a worthy vessel after all." They both shared a hearty laugh at this, one that pierced the hushed silence that had fallen over the crowd, the people around them turned to look at them as if they were insane, but the two paid them no heed. "Oh look, they seek to stop him," Phee pointed out, amused, as a number of minotaurs were moving through the crowds to storm up the stairs to stop Narza from abusing the broken knight in his grip.
"Oh, that's adorable, we'll see to it that they do no such thing," Nalmika replied, flicking her wrist forward. A clear blue dome appeared over the ring, the minotaurs slammed into it, hammering their fists against the sudden impenetrable barrier, but to no avail, the two combatants were locked in there until a victor emerged. Nalmika and Phee watched as Narza once again held his blade aloft, over a broken and beaten Atro, still a perfect blue. "Watch this then sister, we'll indoctrinate him immediately." Another flick of the wrist, and suddenly the glow about Narza's blade turned from blue, to a pale green.
...
"Rise then monk! Rise and face me if you think yourself chosen by the gods!" Atro obeyed, still believing himself chosen, that he would be saved, or given a sign that his was a righteous cause, but Narza's brutal beating had left him rapidly losing faith. He watched as Narza raised his blade skyward again, and suddenly it was engulfed in green light, leaving him and all around him stunned, even Narza it seemed, though he quickly recovered. "YOU SEE! I HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY THE GODS! NOT YOU WORM!" And so that heavenly blade descended, Atro rose on shaky feet to block it, he felt the shock of the impact assault his body, rattling every bone as Urias groaned against the attack. Standing now, he blocked another attack, feeling his whole body rattle, his mind awash with pain, barely even able to register the next attack come. And then, he heard something crack.
The third and final strike Narza landed on the supposed holy blade was met with a sudden sound of glass shattering, as the blade was broken at the middle, the blade and hilt flying from Atro's grasp. Narza caught the hilt, the broken metal still attached to it jagged and sharp. He held his blade to the back of Atro's neck, the broken steel to his throat, and shouted, loud enough that the entire crowd assembled could hear. "Yield friar boy! Yield and repent though it will not save you from the gods' wrath!" Atro's eyes narrowed to the remains of Urias at his throat, the ward was broken, this sword was very dangerous, if he refused...that blade would drink his life away, his voice shaking, resolve destroyed, he relented.
"I...I yield…" he stammered, his will as broken as the blade that lay before him. Narza dropped the hilt, raising his green blade high in the air, and shouting triumphantly, "He yields!" There was no ushering of applause, no cheering, no parade in honor of the champion, simply a single man, brandishing in his hand a velvet cushion, seated upon which was the sword Nalmika had promised, to which the man only referred to as, "a wicked blade, for a wicked man," before scurrying off, fear plain in his eyes when he looked at Narza. Happily, Narza claimed the sword, energy surging through his every muscle upon touching it, truly, this was a blessed sword, and as he held it, two very happy goddesses smiled evilly from the sidelines.
