Chapter 14: A Dual of Demons
Several months had passed since that wonderful and deceitful night back in Nevassa. Gawain was married, the King was blackmailed, and the Black Knight was born. The evening was the perhaps a grand defining moment of all time. The evening certainly was defining for Alex, who now travelled as the Black Knight. On that evening, he went and picked up young Micaiah from the orphanage and whisked her away from the country. She recognized the knight's description from Sephiran who had visited her earlier that very same month and foretold her of the knight to take her away from there. Together the two travelled beyond the borders of the county into the realm of Begnion. There in Begnion they set up camp and eventually as time continued to pass without news from either Ashnard or Sephiran as to the situation, changing the knight met the demand for a more permanent housing as he built his home using a rock crevice to help as a basis for the structure. Together with the young little girl he they lived in peace for the time. However, he only ever removed his helmet, nothing more.
Soon he taught the little girl to hide her brand and a few basic skills for life, such as basic cooking and cleaning, proper weapon safety and how to make a bed properly. Every day was an emotional one for the knight as he could remember holding the girl as a baby and loved as if she was his own child. The little girl was about six years old and yet had silver hair. Her eyes seemed dead yet peaceful; she was beautiful despite the features that looked different from normal children. However, the first thing that the young girl was taught was to hide her brand mark. It was on her hand and thus difficult to hide so the knight made her a shirt that covered her hands and thus kept her brand out of sight from others.
Every day during this period consisted of fishing for their meal in a creek behind their makeshift home full of homemade furnishings. Then while Micaiah did simple food preparation for cooking The Black Knight would train his skills with the sword on nearby trees and then sharpen the sword upon a large rock near the homestead. Next, they would cook the morning catch for their daily feast and then rest the day away in peace and quiet. The two enjoyed the quiet of nature and just as the knight loved everything about the strange little girl, the little girl loved everything about the knight. Life was peaceful and simple for them, yet the knight kept ready to return to Daein to further the cause of chaos for eternal peace.
Eventually people in the nearest village took notice of the tower figure in full black, noticed his sword, and began spreading rumors about him and his prowess across the land. These rumors attracted interest from the fighters, bandits, and thugs of the region. It seemed daily that someone came unto the knight's homestead to challenge him. Each time proved futile as the knight's armor was too strong to pierce and his sword too strong to stop. Before this infusion of Ashera's blessing the knight was already an incredible fighter and would be considered a top man in any army but now the man seemed a god as he could take any blow without falter and despite wearing the heaviest of armor, the man found himself swift like an eagle. Before the new armor, he wielded a shield to help protect himself and now he only carried the sword leaving his spare hand free to grapple and grab the opponent's weapon out of their very hand. His skill grew slowly because of how much better he was from the average man who challenged him, yet each battle taught him something new as he felt himself learning how to fight against men like Gawain, or brawlers, or truly any kind of enemy as each fight brought a unique opportunity to test a new skill.
This was the life for Micaiah and the Knight, a life of peaceful living accompanied by a daily battle or two by a foolish person.
It had been six months now since they left Daein. The morning awoke with the knight sitting along the creek bank letting his boots touch the top of the water as he looked out among the plains ahead of the creek. He could see for miles past the creek north. It was a vast and empty sight that allowed him to be at peace for nothing in any direction was visible, just a blank canvas of short grass and nothing. He went to get his fishing gear when he felt a presence that he recognized approaching from the East. This presence was stoic in nature and had a step that aired on silence. It was a quiet and ominous feeling that approached, as if the person coming had no soul, yet that was the opposite of the truth. The knight felt compelled to turn around.
Standing thirty yards away was a tall and slender man, the man seemed exhausted by the travelling as his sword left a trail in the ground behind him. The man had flowing unkempt and mangled black hair flying wildly in the wind. He wore straight black clothing, and had hardly any armor. The Knight however easily recognized the figure that approached. "Satran." He called to the man as the knight arose from the creek and took standing posture in facing the swordsman. "Why are you here, Satran?"
The swordsman spit a thick spit from his lips. Clearing his throat he hollered true, "Is that all you have to say bastard." The words thickened the tension in the air. "After that filth you pulled on the kingdom, and on us."
"Where are the others, Satran?" the knight looked him over, "Why are you alone?"
The hero class weary man started laughing, "Do you not know? Gawain and Elena left the country the day after the wedding. They left me just as you left us you trash. Without telling a single person." The weary traveler pulled a jug from his side and took a deep drink. He cleared his lips of liquid. "Then things got crazy, a rampant death wave rolled over the kingdom. Everyday more and more people just died. There was not clear cause, and the side effects differed so vastly that no one could figure it out, until Ashnard told the King." The knight tensed as he heard the name of the Prince. He knew now exactly why Satran had sought him out. "I could not understand how or why the King would sign such a damning document…And then…I remembered you at the wedding. You had that paper and had the King sign a document; it must have been the blood pact." The man in black cloth tightened his sword grip.
"So you know my involvement then." The Knight in black spoke. Alex looked at his former comrade well and saw the weary nature of his stance. He felt sympathy on his longtime friend, and whilst Satran spoke with an inflamed tone, the knight felt no danger from the man.
"I know you are responsible for the death of over 2,786,000 people of the Kingdom, including the King himself." The traveler raised his sword in one hand and pointed it as he spoke directly at other. "Because of you chaos reigns and Daein has weakened. Because of you, I lost everything I worked so hard for over the years. I WILL KILL YOU!" The yell released from Satran's chords echoed through the rock crevice home. The noise peaked the interest of Micaiah inside. She came running out of the home and stood behind the leg of the knight.
"Is this who you'll fight today Alex?" the little girl asked with intrigue.
Alex put his hand on her head and nodded a simple yes. He pushed her gently back to the crevice and said slowly. "Go back inside and wait till we finish." The little girl giggled and waved at the opponent as she retreated inside without a care in the world about the situation. And why would she? In the forty-seven duels she bore witness unto her Black Knight never let a blow harm his person.
"What is that Alex? Raising children are we now?" The swordsman coughed while asking. The cough forced Satran to hunch over and eventually go down on one knee. The knight took notice of the coughing and was severely confusing by Satran's physique. He then noticed Satran's arms looked small and flimsy, his face lacked color, and his clothes fit too loosely to be the way they initially were hewn.
"Remember the child I took to the orphanage long ago Satran?" The knight asked. The weary man now understood the score.
"So you did know death would come!" the swordsman retorted. "To Arms BASTARD!"
"HOLD!" the knight raised his free hand and with an open hand signaled to man to cease for the moment all hostilities. "Friend!" he called to the other. "In your state you cannot hope to fight well against me." He examined the heavy breathing of the man standing opposite of him. He noticed the weak posture of the man.
"I do not seek to win, I seek to kill." The man then removed a pouch from his side and began to snort the substance inside. "This olive grass is made to help the laguz species maintain their feral form for longer periods of time, but to a beorc it is a stout berserk drug." The man inhaled again, deeper this time. "I WILL KILL YOU!"
The swordsman charged with absolutely poor form, worse than Alex had ever seen the man use before. He could tell there was something else going on with his opponent than just the rage inducing substance abuse. The hero class man leapt high into the air and pointed his sword downward.
"THUNG!" Alex parried the blade with ease knocking Satran back with a blistering force. The enraged soul gathered himself quickly as he touched the ground behind him. He could tell that his former comrade was stronger than before, yet his fury charged him forward without recourse or fear of safety. He thrust forward once again. "SHUNK!"
"HAHA! GOT YOU!" the twisted man hollered wildly. Yet, the grimaced look of power did not for an instance change upon the face of the opposing knight. Satran looked with astonishment as he saw that the very blade he could have sworn hit the target actually failed to connect and instead was gripped tightly to the point of breaking the skin in the hand of the knight. "WHAT!" he cried as the knight ripped the sword from his enemy's hands before punching him in the jaw, knocking him back several feet and to the ground. The hero class spat up dirt before returning to his feet. "FINE! I GUESS I HAVE NO CHOICE!" He pulled a final pouch from his bag on his side. After removing this vial, he removed his cloak and then threw his pouch next to the cloak. He then opened the vial and drank the sum of the tiny bottle. Torment then arose from his body as he screamed in agony. The noise scared little Micaiah inside the home and she hid against the wall covering her ears.
"What is this magic?" The Black Knight called out to the screeching man before him.
"THIS IS A DROUGHT OF DRAGON LAGUZ BLOOD!" the man hollered back in response. "IT WILL MAKE US EVEN!" the man then let out a bellowing howl as he then proceeded to surge forward. He knocked Alex off balance and then grabbed his sword. He regained posture as he stood ready for the next flurry. The knight was confused at the sudden rise of strength in his enemy. "THIS BLOOD BURNS MY INSIDES AND WILL KILL ME! BUT I FEEL SO RELENTLESS" The man charged once more. Alex decided to end it quickly and stuck his blade deep into the left shoulder of his enemy with his long sword. He smiled as he felt the depth of the contact and knew he had bested the man.
"SHUNK!" Alex looked down to see the sword of his enemy now sticking into his left shoulder. While his armor provided solid protection, the wound still burned and was met with solid agony. The knight pulled back grabbing his shoulder in pain his left arm was now useless for the rest of the fight for fear of further rupture to the wound. Despite the severity of the wound inflicted he could see no sign of defeat on his opponent's face. All the knight in black could see was steam rising off the man's body as water evaporated from inside the man's pores. His hair shriveled as if it was in a fire and the clothing on his skin began to melt and stick to his skin. Alex now knew the horror of dragon's blood in a man. The blood would erupt a fire inside the drinker and sadly keep them alive to endure the ferocity of the torment inflicted by the imbibing of the liquid. Alex examined the demonic soul of his afflicted former comrade. He felt pity for him feeling this was what needed happen to gain solace for the recent events that left him sour how they unfolded against his desires.
The Knight regained posture and bowed his head, as he knew exactly how to end the battle without further injury. The fiery enemy charged once more without any defensive posture. "SLICE!" The knight had stepped to the right and slung his blade around to spate head from shoulders of his enemy. While he missed the desire spot, he still cut deep and through the chest separating Satran's spinal cord. The hero class fell instantly, although he was still resent of mind and experienced torment from the fire inside his stomach he no longer could move a muscle on his own volition.
Spitting blood the dying man cried. "Please kill me. Don't let me suffer." Alex stood over the ripped apart body that was being consumed by an internal flame and winced at the agony his former ally was most likely experiencing in the moment. The knight nodded in agreement to his friend he then held up his index finger.
"On one condition." He spoke in a peaceful tone, as he ached from the wound in his free arm's shoulder. "Tell me of the fate of Gaius and Zell."
"They are dead!" Satran spoke as he went into shock from the pain and blood loss. Alex then walked away leaving the man to writhe in his own demise. The man cried as he realized that his former comrade would not honor his final request. Satran writhed around until his pain finally was over. The black knight went over and grabbed the little girl from the house. He covered her eyes as he carried her across the creek to the north. He knew he needed to pay respects to his friends and that with the death of the King he knew the danger of the blood pact had subsided. As he walked to the north, he felt the little girl conduct a healing rite upon his arm. He smiled seeing the girl work a spell as he realized further that this girl truly was a special little girl.
"Come Micaiah. We are off to return to Daein, to our home, we are no longer on the run." After he arose from the banks fully healed by the little one's ability he smiled as he put her on his shoulder and marched onward toward his old camp, as he felt compelled to see the fate of his oldest friends for himself. "Gaius, Zell, I'm coming please do not be actually dead."