21. Answers


Zael unsheathed his own sword, pointing it at Jirall, but before he could say anything, he heard Arganan sigh.

"Of course Asthar's killer has to be brought back to life. Why am I not surprised?" The deceased Count drawled, looking Jirall in the eye. "Or were you alive for these whole hundred years, unlike some of us?"

"You should be dead, old man." Jirall snapped, looking towards Arganan. "Shut up."

Arganan shrugged. "I am. If you haven't noticed that I'm dead until now, you really are foolish, aren't you?"

"Says the man who thought I killed Asthar." The other man snapped, and Zael frowned.

"You didn't…what?" Zael looked towards Asthar, who looked incredibly uncomfortable. His jaw tightened as he averted his gaze from Zael and Jirall's own stares, at least briefly, and Therius's brows furrowed.

"I thought something was wrong when you got arrested." Therius admitted, looking Jirall in the eye. "And I was right. You didn't kill him. Who did?"

"Why don't you ask the victim himself?" Jirall casually waved towards Asthar, snorting lightly. "He's right here."

"Enough distractions." Asthar looked both disturbed and frustrated, looking Jirall in the eye. "What are you doing here, Jirall?"

"To kill Zael, of course." Jirall pointed his rapier towards Zael, before a hollow laugh left him. "Why wouldn't I take the chance?"

Zael recalled raging waves, the cackling of Jirall, the sword driving into his heart.

"I guess I'll have to kill you again," Zael breathed, "Won't I?"

Jirall didn't answer. Instead, he charged at Zael, sword raised.


Jirall was no experienced fighter on his own. Zael knew the sword had to be of some influence. But even without it, he wasn't necessarily bad at fighting. What he lacked in the technique of skill like Therius, he made up with angered, jealous enthusiasm.

Every swipe of Jirall's sword made Zael step back as he blocked it. Every stab attack cut through the air like there was no tomorrow, as if the air was just butter. Zael knew his own flesh would be butter to Jirall's swordfighting if not the armor he wore.

"What happened to you?" Jirall simpered, blocking one of Zael's own attacks. "Cat got your tongue?"

Zael decided not to dignify his response with speaking, and instead stabbed Jirall in the shoulder. A scream left Jirall as he staggered back, only to lunge at him again.

Asthar's sword blocked Jirall's own, before he went for a leg sweep. Jirall hit the ground, screaming, but Asthar stabbed him in the chest. Zael swore the blade went straight through to the ground, as Asthar pulled the blade out.

"Are you okay?" Asthar breathed, and Zael nodded.

That was when Jirall got up, still bleeding, cackling as he stood. "Do you think," He seethed, "That it will be enough to kill me?"

Zael stabbed Jirall through the chest in a different area, but Jirall still didn't go down. The red, glowing sword seemed to pulse in the fallen noble's hands, and Zael heard Arganan gasp.

"Disarm him! Quickly!" Arganan blasted a spell towards Jirall, who still advanced, but Jirall sidestepped and dodged it. "It's enchanted!"

"You mean…" Zael looked towards Jirall, before charging at him, swiping at him in a feint. Jirall moved to dodge, but Zael used the opportunity to knock the sword out of his hands instead, before stabbing him again through the heart.

Jirall gasped, staggering back. The red, glowing sword spun in the air above him. It then suddenly went still, floating in the air, before falling down.

The sword fell too fast for anyone to do a thing as it stabbed Jirall through the shoulder. It did so in an angled motion, going through his shoulder, into his chest, with the tip of the sword poking out of his back. Jirall whimpered and moaned, before locking eyes with Zael, rasping.

"Look at me!" He extended a bloody hand towards Zael, gasping as he fell to his knees. "You…"

Zael did not look. He looked away as Jirall collapsed and gave his final breath.


"Who killed you?" Zael didn't want to concern himself with Jirall's corpse. He wanted answers. Though he felt bad, knowing that he couldn't do anything to save Jirall, that the man was far beyond saving even before seeing him again a hundred years later (he recalled Jirall ranting about how Calista always looked at him with scorn), he wanted answers.

He looked Asthar in the eye, and Asthar faltered, sheathing his sword. "Lad…"

"I need to know!" Zael's voice broke, and he grimaced at how harsh he sounded, but he had to know. "Please."

Asthar swallowed, resigned to what he was about to say before he said it.

"Dagran. It was him."