9 I am Ryth
He took notice of his surroundings first. About ten steps to his left lay the crumpled form of Tor, the town baker. Nymph was there, too. Head still throbbing Midael could hear nothing but the deafening beat of his own bloodstream. A trickle was running down the side of his face, and it felt rather warm to the touch.
The crowd had quickly dispersed, just as their baker fell. He suddenly realized in disgust. They were cowards, like vermin scrabbling in the dust. His vision cleared, Nymph was still kneeling beside Tor, shaking him. Still Tor did not move, and Midael had a feeling he won't, not again for a very long time.
Then the deathless kicked him in the ribs.
Now Midael had been kicked before, but never in a an almost 50-year-old body and by a hulk of a man over 2 meters tall and wearing spiked armored boots.
The impact sent him sprawling. He gasped for air, the sharp pain made his vision double, the sensation was like someone had pushed a blade through his chest. Nausia swept over him and he curled up instinctively. In this awkward position he saw that there were Daerils as well, creatures half man half beast, their bodies inhumanly muscular with purple veins running beneath the deep violet skin, the helmets did little to conceal the hideous and fanged beast head. Above the gaping mouth was the nostrils of a snake. And the eyes, were a lifeless white color but none the less they were cruel and unrelenting. Everything about Daerils were beast like but with his experience, Midael knew that they were worse than any beast.
"What do we have here?" Above him a voice sneered. It was the deathless, now he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"You...You'll pay for what you,ve done!" Surprisingly it was Nymph that spoke, but she did sound so sure, for her voice was breaking. Then out the corner of his eye he saw the girl leap at the deathless, a minion grabbed her and held her down.
The Deathless chuckled. "Leave her to the Daerils, Malory!" It was a cruel and metallic laugh. Midael was disgusted. "We shall deal with the newcomer first."
He felt it before he saw it coming. An upper cut aimed straight for his chin. He rolled onto his back and sprang to his feet.
"I know much about beings like you." Midael said through gritted tenth. He winced with every breath.
"I AM A GOD!" His enemy spat."THE IMMORTAL RULER OVER YOU AL-"
"A rogue." Midael interrupted.
For a moment his enemy stood unmoving. Only for one split-second but it was enough for no one but Midael could sense the surprise under the expressionless fullface visor.
"A scholar mortal, then!" The word "mortal" was spoken with such venom that his helmet produced a sound like the scraping of metal against metal.
"Guards! Of with his mask!" He added with distaste.
The air around Midael froze. The market banners, the grey sand swept up by the dessert wind, and the two steel clad minions that were closing in on him, everything moved in slow motion . His brain was working furiously. He inhaled. A hand reached for him and he moved ever so slightly, letting it brush against him as he side stepped. In a heartbeat Midael drew the sword of his opponent, seconds later the latter was on the ground, clutching at his arm, or, strictly saying, what remained of his arm. The second warrior, whose name was Malory if he remembered correctly, wasn't so lucky. He fell face first with his own blade sticking through his chest.
Midael dislodged the blade from his dead opponent. No time to revel in his victory, the deathless was already on to him, the axe swooped down, straight for his ankles. Midael spun as he leaped forward, focusing his strength until it gathered at the tip of his boot. "Crack" The deathless fell backwards, shards of his beautiful helm flew in all directions. The force was enough to break the neck of any man, though this was no ordinary man, the blow to his helmet still left him disoriented. "Halt!" He shouted frantically. Midael's sword was only inches away from his throat.
"You did't let me finish earlier. You are a rogue." Midael repeated. "You were granted immortal life. But it didn't make you deathless. Oh no." He paused, letting his words sink in.
"Please. Spare me..."
"Oh I think not." Midael bent down until he was speaking directly into his opponent's ear. "For you had sealed your fate the moment you laid hands on that girl. But be honored, for in the last moments of your life you were defeated by a blademaster. Consider it a privilege."
The Daerils backed off as their master fell. One of them released Nymph. There was no need for Midael to tell them to scram.
Slowly he limped until he was standing over Tor's fallen body. "Your father perished protecting the town. Weep but remember and be always proud that he was your father." He said awkwardly and decided that he was truly horrible at consoling others.
He looked around helplessly, then he saw Nymph's book "Tales of Ryth the Invincible" Laying in the dust. Holding it in one hand he brushed aside the sand with the other, leaving a smear of blood. He turned to the first page, with his bloodied index finger he wrote:
I am Ryth.
He gazed at it for a while, admiring his own work. "Hey..." Finally, he held out the book to her. "You dropped this."
He waited awkwardly. "But...but you're...old..." Said Nymph, between sobs. He sighed and did something he haven't done for a long time. Slowly he took off his helmet and wiped the blood from his face. Then from one pocket he took out his glasses and put them on, only to discover that one piece had been completely destroyed during combat.
"Sorry to disappoint you." He said, feeling helpless as ever.