Realms of Chaos

- My master. - Daemon Prince with golden feathers kneeled before Tzeentch, full of shame.

Tzeentch, now hooded figure with tentacles instead of arms, wasn't paying attention to him, reading one of the forgotten grimoires. It is said that in his Great Library, Architect of Fate keeps thousands upon thousands of books and scrolls containing knowledge about everything in the known universe. However, since Tzeentch is passionate collector, he makes sure that he has the only remaining copy, the rest destroyed, burnt or simply forgotten. Sometimes, he give one of this accursed tomes to his followers, to push further his own goals, but more often, he give it to mortals who do not follow him, knowing perfectly that it will most likely shatter their minds. To his amusement.

- She escaped my grasp. - Prince continued - I am ready for my punishment.

- Punishment? - Tzeentch replied, now focusing his attention on his servant.

- You ordered me to keep her in our grasp, but lesser Gods intervened, oh Changer of Ways.

- Gurda. - Tzeentch said daemon's name - You actually impressed me.

- What? - Gurada said in surprise - But she…

- Is still alive? As predicted. - Tzeentch interrupted him - You were never there to kill her.

- Then, what have you planned my Lord? - Gurada asked, standing up in confusion.

- I wanted to check something. - Tzeentch said - Now, inform my agent. It is time to move some pawns.

- As you wish, my lord. - Daemon bowed before his God and walked towards temporary exit from the library, to carry out orders.

- Oh, Gurda - Tzeentch suddenly said, causing the daemonic prince to stand in his place. - How is your little scheme doing?

- It is moving forward my lord. - Daemon prince answered without hesitation - But he still requires my guidance.

- Good. - Tzeentch said with satisfaction - Once you deliver my instructions, you may return to your little plan. I want to see… payoff.

- Thank you, my lord. - Gurda said and finally left the library.

Tzeentch watched him for a moment, then chuckled – I still have some uses for you, Golden Wings.

He closed book he was reading and gave it to Doom knight flying nearby so he will put it back in its place. And hopefully, he will open it and read few words. This knight may found this book's topic very fascinating.

- So, you are still alive and also moving your figures on the table. - He said, his aura emanating with excitement - I always knew it.

He laughed genuinely.

- Can't wait to meet you again, old foe.

Tir na Lia

Eredin

- My king, Lord Ge'els wishes to converse with you in the Palace of Awakening. - Elf in green clothes said from atop of his horse, bowing his head in respect.

- Of course he wants. - Eredin sighed. - Very well, I shall come after Naglfar is fully docked.

- Understood, My King. - Elf said and galloped back to the palace through the streets of the Aen Elle capital. Eredin immediately turned towards his crew.

- After docking, you may go and get some rest. - He ordered them. Normally, they would be more than happy, but after months of unfruitful hunt, many felt that this respite is undue.

- Finally. - said Imlerith, while Caranthir only nodded in agreement.

When Naglfar was docking in the harbor, many Aen Elle gathered around to watch mighty ship. From all ships capable of travelling between the worlds, Naglfar was the largest, able to carry dozens soldiers, horses, beasts and, most importantly, hundreds of slaves. Other ships were far smaller and required more Navigators to guide while Naglfar only needed one, but that was thanks to Caranthir's immense magical power. This ship was truly magnificent, making Aen Elle proud while their foes trampled in fear.

Usually, those gatherings of his kin celebrated their return, eager to take slaves and robed goods, but now, they gave Naglfar an accusatory look. Eredin could practically hear unspoken why you returned empty-handed?, and he couldn't blame them for this disappointment.

- Naglfar docked my liege! - One of soldiers reported when all ropes stabilized ship in one place.

- Good. - He said and turned to see whole crew of the ship - Go off shore, you are free for now, but expect new orders soon.

- Sir, yes Sir! - hundred voices answered.

Eredin left Naglfar last, as tradition demands, and when he got off shore, he watched how his loyal troops disperse from the port and walk to their homes or quarters. Caranthir mounted his horse and rode to his mansion on the other side of the city while Imlerith, followed by Nithral, walked towards the barracks.

- My Liege. - he turned towards elf wearing mix of blue and red clothes - Your horse.

Eredin nodded and mounted his large, black horse, Eagle. He pat horse's head and rode out towards Palace of Awakening.

While raiding through vast, paved streets of the elven capital he recalled how years ago, he rode to the palace to give reports to his now deceased king, Auberon. Just like many years ago, he rode through bridges set across Easnadh river, passing by huge building made of marble, monumental towers made from clay bricks, preparing for another arguments between him and that old fool.

If he only listened to him all those years ago…

Eredin grew more and more angry when he thought about it – it required only one word from this pathetic excuse of a king and he would return to Brugge with all available warriors and burn it to the ground while also finally catching Ziereal. Or better, allow him to start search for her way earlier. Instead, Auberon always refused for large scale hunt, allowing only for small ones, and gave task of finding Ziereal to Crevan instead. He never understood his reasoning: Why he wanted her to come on her own? Maybe he had some deep feelings beside hatred towards descendent of Lara? For him, this whole Crevan intrigue to get her back was waste of time, which now cost whole race dearly. It infuriated him that now he must pay for that mistake. But not much longer.

He passed through the giant bridge set across the waterfall, leading to the Palace of Awakening. Palace older than his whole race, so magnificent that mere look at it served as a proof of Aen Elle superiority. Raised from the ground thanks to work of thousands, as well as powerful magic, Palace was set way above Tir na Lia, and thanks to its enormous size, from each point of the city you could see its towers, while from the palace's balcony, watcher could clearly see whole city. Those who never were inside claim that from the top you could see all streets and observe all citizens simultaneously, but it was slight exaggeration.

Decorated gate stood open, welcoming its king, and guards saluted him. When he jumped from his horse, Ge'els chamberlain. – Short elf, comparable to the barrel, with green hair and red eyes approached him.

- My king. - he said in very deep voice - Lord Ge'els awaits in the throne room. Do you wish to change clothes or take a bath before the meeting?

- No - Eredin answered - Duties first.

- Of course my liege. - Chamberlain said - Please, follow me.

Imlerith

- Strike Left! Strike Right! Strike left! - Sergeant yelled and gathered soldiers, watching as they swing in unison, striking training dummies, following commands of their trainers. Whole training ground was filled with hundreds of soldiers marching together upon sandy ground, exercising with various weapons, preparing to one day join Red Raiders. From balcony, Elf Captain watched progress of fresh recruits. Suddenly, one elf came and whispered something into his ear, causing his entire good mood to diminish in seconds.

- Let him in. - Captain said, leaving a heavy sigh.

Shortly after through open door came Imlerith, general of the wild hunt. Behind him came Nithral, so called "Eredin's executioner", also Imlerith's second in command.

- Imlerith. - Captain coldly greeted him - Didn't expect you will arrive here today. I thought you would visit brothel first.

- This would be true - Imlerith agreed - But this time is different. Gather everyone in the center of the field. Now.

- In the middle of training? - Captain argued.

- This fucking waste of time you call 'training'? - Imlerith scoffed, causing cold anger in captain. - You speak like they will lose something time-worthy, Alda'nis. Now, do as I command.

- Very well. - Alda'nis answered, and, still angered, gave commands to his adjutant, who immediately run to the field.

- ATTENTION! - One of Aen Elle sergeant's yelled to practicing soldiers, causing them immediately cease all activities - ALL FORM SQUARE AT THE CENTRE! DOUBLE TIME! - Recruits followed suit, forming a large square in no time.

- CLOSE RANKS! - sergeant yelled and whole group stood motionless ,awaiting further orders.

Imlerith walked into training grounds, still in his armor, however without his helmet. He walked among recruits, who looked at him with fear, respect or both. He, on the other hand, was unimpressed.

- ATTENTION! - sergeant ordered, and three hundred arms sprung into the air, honoring their general.

- What am I looking at? - Imlerith asked sarcastically, disappointed by this sight.

- Proud soldiers of Dearg Ruadhri! - sergeant answered, only to receive death stare from wild hunt general.

- Really now? - he asked. - Because I only see the waste of time and potential.

- Sir… - sergeant, confused, wanted to answer that claim, but Imlerith was faster

- I don't need soldiers, who lack prowess, martial skill, and their only benefit is slightly more obedience! - he yelled, causing many elves gathered at the training ground to cover in shock or fear. - I want capable warriors, not mustering idiots!

- Soldiers need to learn discipline and how to work with one another! - Alda'nis finally snapped, not willing to hear this rant again. - You can't just walk in and blame us for your failures!

This was a mistake. Imlerith slowly turned towards the Captain, fury in his eyes. But Alda'nis didn't back down at sight of Eredin's second in command fury.
- Long time ago. - he slowly approached captain, making each step loud, his whole posture promised violence if further displeased, looking straight into captain's eyes - Being warrior of Dreag Rudhari meant something. - Alda'nis felt how his inner strength melt under pressure of Imlerith, but still tried to keep staring into Imlerith's amber eyes. He felt like this stare alone is burning his body, trying to make him submit. - We were Feared Conquerors - Imlerith purposefully talked slowly, marking each word - Powerful Warriors. Unstoppable Force.

Drop of sweat runned down through captain's cheek, his knees started shaking, his whole body shivered, screaming to him to finally turn his stare away, to just look on something different for a moment, but he desperately tried to hold.

- Why do you SPIT on our legacy by this… SHITSHOW? - Alda'nis broke the eye contact, finally giving up.

- Lord Ge'els ordered me to change standard of training my lord! - he said in desperation - He said that we cannot allow ourselves to train each and every one the same way as it was, since king requires more and more soldiers. We would not want to anger him, would we?

Imlerith thought about it for a moment - Ge'els would be right… - he said at first causing for hope to appear in eyes of the captain - If they weren't such disappointment - he ended, looking at the crowd – And this is your fault.

- My lord. - Alda'nis said - Time of the great individual warriors is…

- Don't you dare end this sentence! - Imlerith snapped

- But what about discipline? - captain asked

- If warrior can't maintain discipline by his own, he is not worthy of picking up the sword. - Imlerith answered, and after brief moment of thinking, idea came to his mind - Your instructors, they were trained the same way as them. - He pointed at recruits - Correct?

- Yes Sir! - Alda'nis answered, causing wild hunt general to grin in triumph.

- Perfect. NITHRAL! -he turned to his adjutant - Show them your strength.

Nithral picked up his giant axe, looked at it, then at gathered warriors, then handed over his weapon to the warrior next to him.

- I won't need this. Bring me wooden staff. - he ordered, and soon long stick made of sturdy oak wood was delivered to his hand. He then pointed at the instructors.

- Nearest five, you will pick up your weapons and fight. - he commanded, causing confusion among them and recruits.

- You will pick up the challenge, won't you? - Imlerith asked them coldly.

- But, my general, this isn't even a fair fight! - Captain Alda'nis protested.

- I know. - Imlerith smirked.

- Not wooden. - Nithral said, watching how instructors take up training weapons - Use steel. Aim to kill.

Imlerith chuckled - Now they stand a chance.

Caranthir

- Welcome home, my lord - Iron Golem greeted Caranthir, his creator.

- Yes. - Caranthir said, took of his helmet, put on the table and then sat on the couch, leaving sigh of relief.

- Your tea, Sir. - Golem said and gave Caranthir cup of warm tea, to his delight.

- Thank you. - He took a cup and took a sip. - Ah yes, She makes excellent tea, don't you agree? - he asked iron golem.

- Considering all information gathered during your absence yes, Clara does make a good tea. - Golem replied. - And also, with quick analyze of your mood it is certain that Ziereal escaped again.

- Sadly. - Caranthir said - Despite my preparations, my former master was again able to save her. But it took him longer than before - Caranthir smiled, little proud of himself.

- Congratulations, my lord. - Golem said while standing motionless.

- And this fool claims her escape was MY fault. - he clenched his fists – MINE.

- Did he do it because out of spite or he had other reason? - Golem asked, completely unmoved by anger of his creator.

- Of course out of spite. - Caranthir answered, still angry - He believes that if he led the Hunt, Cirilla would be already captured. He is good, yet crude, commander and warrior, and his pride is… astonishing.

- One day it will blew his face off. - Golem stated, which caused Caranthir to chuckle.

- Attempting to make a joke? - Caranthir asked - That's new.

- Simply trying to obey your instructions, my lord. - Golem bowed slightly - As best as possible.

- Then I have another assignment for you. - Caranthir give to iron golem sack full of something. Golem took it and opened it to see its contents

- Glass? - he asked.

- Yes. - Caranthir answered - Glass with traces of unknown magic, which interfered with my master's teleportation circle. Although Ziereal's track is lost, maybe by examining this strange magic we will…

- Find the one, who caused teleportation to fail. - Golem ended the sentence. - Clever.

- Get to work. - Caranthir ordered - I expect results soon.

- Acknowledged. - Golem said and with heavy steps walked towards the large bookshelf, still holding the sack in the left hand, put his right hand on the nearest book. Soon, golem's hand glowed with red light, and bookshelf opened like a door. Before he entered the secret room, he turned towards Caranthir, who took another sip of his tea in the meantime, visibly enjoying it.

- One question master. - Golem said - Why do you think someone interfered? Maybe Master Crevan made a mistake during casting?

- My Master NEVER makes mistakes - Caranthir answered - He is perfectionist, powerful and experienced. Not even a chance that it was his fault.

- Understood. - Golem replied and went into the secret room, and bookshelf shut shortly after.

Caranthir sat alone, thinking about recent events. After some time, he got up, took his helmet and went to his bedroom. When he was about to open the door to it, he suddenly stopped. He turned his head to get a clear look at the blank, framed picture put on the dresser. He gently took it, waved his hand, which glowed blue for a mere second, before it and someone appeared on the picture. He stared at it for some time, motionless, trying to show no emotions.

- He never makes mistakes...- he said to the picture of a woman wearing white dress, waved his hand again, and the picture became blank again. He put it back on the dresser, opened the door and walked through to his room. He needed some sleep and privacy.

Eredin

Servants opened the door to the throne room, and Eredin walked through them, followed by his guards, short chamberlain walking beside him.

- My lord. - chamberlain bowed before governor of Tir na Lia. - King Eredin returned.

The only person inside the throne room, besides empty golden throne, wearing mix of golden robes, purple cape and crimson shirt. Ge'els not even turned to see the newcomers, instead he kept starring through the large window, at the elven city.

- Excellent. Now please, leave. King and I have an important matters to discuss.

Chamberlain bowed again and proceeded to leave the vast throne room. Eredin gestured to his personal guards to leave, and they obeyed his unspoken command. When door finally shut behind them, he slowly walked towards his throne, stepping on long, red carpet.

- I presume your little endeavor was unsuccessful. - Ge'els said, still not turning to face his king - Once again Ziereal escaped our grasp.

- Yes. - Eredin agreed - But we will capture her soon. It is inevitable.

- Don't try to fool me, my king. - Ge'els replied - I already know you lost track of her.

When Eredin walked up to him, Viceroy of Tir na Lia gestured him the view behind the window.

- What do you see my king? - He asked Eredin.

- Whole capital. - Eredin replied, wanting Ge'els to jump straight the point.

- Whole capital indeed. - Ge'els agreed - Housing hundreds of thousands Aen Elle, who require clothing, raw materials, food and entertainment. Not to mention other provinces. - He then turned towards his king, showing him signs of not sleeping too well recently - For now, I keep them satisfied, but we are slowly running out of workforce and resources.

- Hunting Ziereal is our top priority. - Eredin remarked, watching the mesmerizing view of Aen Elle largest city. So many live inside its walls… - We cannot simply abandon this goal.

- I would never propose such a thing. - Ge'els stated. - But we are dangerously close to economic downfall.

- How long it until that? - Eredin asked

- Three months. - Ge'els answered - After Tilath na Buhne fell to the White Frost, a lot of our workforce died and our main supplier of food got… frozen. I seek salvation in harvest, which will happen soon, but I simply lack manpower. Unless I pull those forging…

- Not going to happen. - Eredin cut it - Any halt in production of war material is unacceptable.

- Then I need thousands of slaves in short period of time - Ge'els concluded - Besides… - He looked around and leaned to Eredin - Some consider our inability to catch her aa a sign of weakness. - Ge'els whispered - If we fail to provide enough people for harvest and to mines in time, they will get powerful argument against our rule. Combining that with rapid public outrage, we will face serious disaster.

Eredin gritted with his teeth hearing this. He worked hard to get this throne, and he will not let anybody else to claim it. His warrior side called for retaliation against schemers, but his ruler side acknowledged their point. More sensible side won this time.

- Very well. - he finally stated after long period of silence - I shall conduct next raid to…

- Not there please. - Ge'els interrupted, surprising his king - My lord, please, consider other choices.

- Why? - he asked his viceroy with curiosity

- There is a large war down there - Ge'els replied, causing Eredin to laugh

- Caring about those animals? You? – just thinking about this made Eredin laugh even more

- Not in the slightest. - Ge'els answered - But because of this war, those capable were conscripted into their military, leaving behind only elderly, woman and children. And since deadly plague emptied entire villages, Dreag Rudhari won't be able to get enough slaves before the harvest. Not to mention their poor quality. Also, we need to show our people that we are still able to achieve great victories by giving them large spoils of the raid.

- Extort patriotism, yes? - Eredin scratched his chin, thinking about it.

- Exactly, my king.

Both stared through the window, saying nothing. When they forged a pact years ago, all was clear – Eredin will keep title and ride out with his warriors while Ge'els rule entire nation in his name and enjoy privileges of higher ups. King brings slaves and resources while his viceroy keeps nation happy and reinforce Eredin's army with recruits and weapons. Both fulfilled their part for a long time, ensuring that Red Riders will remain in control of Tir na Lia. However, when Ziereal finally resurfaced again, Eredin dropped all other activities and went on the hunt across dimensions to catch her, spending a lot of warriors and resources. He knew the risk of potential failure, but final reward was far too tempting to simply ignore it. But, because of his failure, he faced the consequences.

Eredin's wasn't Auberon, who had loyalty and love of his people no matter what. He constantly needed to remained his kin why he is the ruler. And this was the first major stall in this well-oiled machine. His militaristic mind started working rapidly, brewing an idea inside his head.

- Thank you for all this information. - Eredin finally broke the silence - Please, leave for now. I need some time think alone.

- As you wish, my king - Ge'els bowed in respect to his majesty, and started walking towards the decorated door, while Eredin finally sat on the throne.

When Ge'els left, Eredin remained alone. Deep in his thoughts, he starred into nothingness, thinking how to resolve this growing issue.

NORSCA

- Do you understand the task I bestow upon you? - Strybjorn asked.

- Yes, my jarl! I won't fail you! - Warrior declared, kneeling before his lord.

Behind them, Skealings marched to war – thousands upon thousands warriors marched towards north, wanting to face so called "Prince of Pain", who dared to challenge their leader for domination in this part of Norsca.

First walked the youngbloods – warriors, who only recently reached age, which allowed them to participate in Strybjon's campaign's. For them, it will be their first battle and chance to prove themselves. For some, this fight will be their first step in path for glory but for many, this will be their last.

They are rowdy, eager to face the opponent head on, disciplined by their fathers, but they lack experience. They talk with each other, bet and laugh, causing cacophony of voices. Their formation only resembled cohesion, and, despite their leader's attempts, they couldn't hold it for long.

They wear mix of wolf's fur and cover parts of their bodies in hardened leather, some even have iron and steel covering their heads. They wield axes, spears and clubs, eagerly shaking them, hoping that with this weapon, they will be granted their rewards.

Behind them walked the seasoned warriors – those, who participated in few campaign's already and shed blood. They tended to not do anything stupid now – They walk in cohesion and discipline, but still talked with their blood-brothers about carnage they shall unleash. Wilding giant axes, swords and hammers they were more than happy for some battle.

Right behind them walked crazed berserkers – With their mind long gone, they only care about glorious battle. They walked forward, not caring about frost, about maintaining marching formation, about other people, barely containing their rage. Wielding two axes or maces, and with no protection of the body, they only want enemies to slay. And Strybjorn will grant their wish.

And slightly behind them walked champions of the tribe – mighty Huscarls. Most of them fought for Strybjorn for years, some even decades. They participated in countless raids, butchered thousands of warriors and innocents alike. Fully covered in black iron, holding their preferred weapons, they marched for their, and their tribe's, glory.

All of those warriors walked along numerous beasts, such as trolls, wolf skins and mammoths. Also with them, on their giant horses, rode Chaos knights, and mighty gorebeasts pulled iron chariots. Under Skealings banner numerous warriors from various tribes and even some chosen by the God of Slaughter marched. All united in one purpose: to kill in the name of Strybjorn, Skealing and especially for the Hound, for this so called "prince" dared to spread influence of the Snake in region dedicated to the Blood God. This profanation calls for a god's punishment, and Red Wolf will gladly deliver it.

But even among those prime warriors were few, who exceed them all – the Knight Reapers, the mightiest huscarls Skealings had to offer. They were the ones, who first shed blood of Brettonian nobles, when they butchered Lyonesse army in the first major battle. And then, after nearly fifty years of continued service, which earned them many more trophies and rewards from all around the world, were decimated at the second battle for Bretonnian coast. Most of them threw their lives charging at that accursed Grail knight, allowing Skealings to escape along with their Jarl and the body of his fallen son. Only few of them survived, but still remained the force to be reckoned with.

Each of these "knight reapers" was a champion in his own right – Killed thousands warriors, fought in countless duels and battles, and possessed strength worthy of giants. They wore a Breton cloths and armor, mixed with more "chaotic" design of the northman, making them look like a parody of the proud Brettonian knights, who, instead of serving his lord and ze lady, gave their service to the Dark Gods.

Although those who remained at Egil's side showed loyalty to him, their jarl couldn't trust them. He knew they will gladly kill, slay and maim for him, but, as powerful champions, seeing opportunity, which this "Cirilla" grants, could make them fall to temptations and cause them to try to steal their leader's fate for themselves. So, he preferred to have them at his side on the battlefield rather than sending them after Cirilla.

Except one.

While these warriors showed Strybjorn absolute loyalty, Thromis could be accounted as a fanatical devotee of his jarl. This giant warrior wore his marked crimson armor, signaling his allegiance to the Blood God, but also wore elements of Brettonian armor on his shoulders, and, instead of wearing the typical helmet resembling the skull, he wore bretton's large helmet painted in both blue and yellow. He participated in first campaign against Bretonnian kingdom all those years ago, and served Strybjorn dutifully for all those years. While other Knight Reapers launched themselves at the Grail Knight in hopes of bringing him down, avenging their leader and gaining prestige doing that, Thromis run to fallen Strybjorn and carried him to the longship. Many assumed that for this act warrior will be executed, for he robbed Strybjorn from his glorious death, but he was surprisingly forgiven when Butcher of Immortals returned from the edge of the cliff. And now, his little care for personal glory was found useful.

Strybjorn bestow his hand on the shoulder of the kneeling Thormis.

- If you find her, bring her to me. - Strybjorn said - Alive, and unharmed.

Thormis looked at his jarl with eyes full of respect.

- I will, my jarl. But how will I find her? - He asked, and Strybjorn whispered.

- Follow the star - He pointed at the sky, and Thormis followed the finger to see small, yet still clearly visible, green star set on the sky.

Thromis nodded in understanding, rose up, again bowed his head in respect and walked to his horse. Twenty three man awaited their leader on their horses. All of them were experienced warriors, who knew no fear nor remorse.

- We ride! - Thromis commanded his band, and rode towards the south, starting his search for place, where Cirilla will be.

Egil watched them for a moment, wondering. His warriors were ready to sacrifice their lives for him if commanded, but this man's loyalty was... Something else.

- No matter. - He shrugged this thoughts. - If he is so willing to die for me, then he will have his wish. - he walked to join his marching army. While his minions shatter destiny itself, he will reforge his own fate in blood and fire.

But now, there is a decadent prince to kill.

'

On nearby mountain, two figures also watched the scene – One was the giant northman, and the other one was thin figure in robes, seemingly made from shadows.

- You have done well. - said shady figure to the Huscarl.

- Thank you. - Huscarl replied - What are your plans now?

- You expect me to reveal my cards that early changeling? - Shadow asked with annoyance in his voice - Are you trying to insult me?

- Never! - Changeling raised his borrowed arms in mockingly defensive gesture - I am just curious.

- Then know that the next phase of my plan is already starting. However, to make it work, you need to fulfill the next task bestowed by the God of Lies.

Changeling sighed heavily - I thought I would have more time to play with this one. - When he said that, his body started changing into a large, white eagle - But I think finding Swallow will be entertaining too.

- When you find her, inform me at once. - Shadow commanded, but Changeling scoffed hearing this.

- You ordering me? Are you trying to insult me Bel? - Eagle answered, faking annoyance.

- Don't call me that! - Shadow replied with anger. - As long, as you want MY part of the bargain fulfilled, you WILL cooperate in this matter. Do you understand?

- Of course I do. - Changeling chuckled while preparing to fly - I will keep you updated, Bel.- And with powerful swings large bird flew towards the south.

Shadow watched his companion flying away, and after eagle's disappearance from the horizon, he turned his gaze to the North, trying to perceive through the veil between realms.

- Let's see, how you plan to fight against universe's destiny, Weaver of all Fates. – Be'lakor said before he slowly faded into the air.

Tir na Lia

Nithral

His opponents picked up their weapons and cautiously approached him. Nithral stood in place, seemingly doing nothing, but in reality he carefully analyzed them – Their footing, how they hold their weapons. He smiled under his helmet, plan for this fight already brewing in his mind.

Nearly three hundred recruits watch him. Let's give them a show.

- Are you waiting for invitation? - he taunted his opponents, awaiting their move.

His enemies looked at each other and spread slightly, wanting to surround him and attack from all directions. Good tactic. If they expect that their opponent will stand idle forever.

Like a panther, he launched himself at one of them, attacking him with a lot of fast and precise strikes against his head, neck and knees. Warrior, stunned by his enemy's swiftness and strength, desperately tried to hold his ground but soon got overwhelmed, and after receiving powerful hit in the head, he fell on the ground unconscious. One down, four to go.

Nithral turned quickly to the face other enemies, and to his dismay, he found them not moving even an inch, too surprised to react.

- Too slow. - He pointed out and charged again with his wooden staff raised high above his head.

The nearest warrior raised his sword high to block attack aimed for his head but Nithral not only blocked the sword with his stick, but also bashed him at full speed with his shoulder, sending him on the ground.

- Lack of footing. - He explained to falling soldier before kicking him in the head, knocking him out of the fight.

He turned his attention to remaining foes just in time to stop incoming attacks. Nithral parried and blocked incoming strikes from three soldiers, steadily walking back and back to not let them attack him from the flanks, awaiting for right moment to counterstrike.

Three remaining instructors followed him, trying their best to land a blow on him, especially one of them launched a barrage of angry swings, seemingly overwhelming Nithral, but in reality, he blocked other combatants from attacking on their own by standing in their way, and pushing his opponent backwards. Nithral smiled under his helmet, he found his opportunity.

Still moving back, he parried or blocked all incoming strikes, angering his attacker even further, to the point he resorted rushing at Nithral, swinging in fury, not caring about his defense or his comrades, while gap between his allies grew bigger and bigger.

Suddenly, Nithral halted and when another attack was about to land, he simply dodged sideward. Instructor, unable to stop, gave his opponent an opening, which he used to its fullest.

Within seconds, with one end of the staff he hit soldiers knee, knocking him off balance, while shortly after, the second end of the staff hit back off his head, making him slam into the ground.

- Lack of control. - Nithral said and looked at two remaining warriors.

Instead of mindlessly charging at him, two warriors rethought their approach. They split up, forming gap between them to avoid executioner's strikes, while also allowing them to support one another in case of counterattack.

Clever.

They tried to make one approach him and attack his back while other prepared to attack from front, but Nithral countered it by always positioning himself to have them on his sides or quickly turning in place before they could react. After few attempts, they stood in place for a moment, one of his left and second on his right, both raised their weapons in preparation for attack.

They stood that way, testing each other nerves – will Nithral launch himself at one of them and expose his back, or will he allow them to attack and give up initiative? This question certainly crossed three hundred minds, who witnessed with amazement how this whole fight played out already.

Nithral caught subtle eye contact between the two warriors and noted that this whole fight they tried to work together - they always watched each other position, exchanged quick looks, but never shared a word with one another. Like they understand each other, without needing to speak.

At the exact same moment they charged at him, one striking low, aiming for his legs while the other aimed for his head and shoulders. In quick response he parried both of these attacks, but two warriors persisted, not slowing down.

Nithral parried, blocked and tried to counterstrike his opponents, but to no avail – two warriors fought extremely well together, fighting in near unison – when one attacked from the right, second attacks from the left, when second aims for the head, first attacks his abdomen, when one seems to be in trouble second puts more pressure on his opponent. Also adding their constant attempts to get behind him meant that Nithral was forced to defend himself, not being able to turn the situation around. Yet.

With wide swings of his staff, excellent footwork and quick reactions, he was able to hold his ground for some time, but he needed a solution fast. He knew that one mistake and he fails this presentation, but, to both his relief and concern, his opponents played it carefully, being watchful for his sudden maneuvers. Relieved, because it gave him much needed time to think, concerned because it meant that his opponents are less likely to make a mistake or get tired soon.

Nithral "switched" control from his body, giving it fully to the his instincts for a moment, while his head quickly looked around for anything to turn the situation back to his favor.

Jumping away was not an option, fully committing to attacking one would expose his back. The only thing, which was worthy enough to try, without unnecessary risk, was something unpredictable.

With another twist of his staff it looked like one of its ends hit the sand at got stuck in it. Both warriors saw this as much awaited opening and tried to size it with quick attack from both sides. Little did they know, the did exactly what Eredin's Executioner wanted.

End of the staff suddenly tore the ground, sending large chunk of sand straight into one of the warrior's face. Before he could react, sand got into his eyes, nose and mouth. Disoriented, he completely missed his intended target, cutting through the air, finally putting out pressure from Nithral. When second warrior's attack was blocked by the other end of the staff, he looked at his opponent with eyes full of fear, for now, executioner's attention was completely on him, while his partner desperately tried to clear his eyes from dirt.

Nithral showed no mercy – powerful swings threw the warrior off-balance, and with swift strikes he rapidly overwhelmed the warrior, forcing him to move back more and more to avoid "lethal blow", but he wasn't going down that easily.

Soon, Imlerith's Right Hand noticed that blinded warrior regained his vision and charged at him with full speed, desperate to save his comrade.
One Nithral started counting while focusing all his efforts on his target. He could hear heavy steps getting closer and closer.
Two he gathered all his strength for one, powerful swing, raising his weapon high while he could almost feel approaching warrior's breath on his neck.
Three With mighty swing he broke through his enemy's defense, hitting him so hard that instructor went flying, landing few meters away on the ground, and, without losing a momentum, he continued his strike, turning all his body in one move, allowing his staff to gain even more speed. Before second warrior could react, staff hit him in the shoulder, sending him crashing on the sandy ground.

Nithral looked at all downed opponents, triumph shining in his eyes. His muscles ached a bit, and his heart beat like crazy, thanks to the adrenaline. He is victorious.

- I won. - he declared, causing whole crowd to went ballistic. For them it looked like Nithral in mere three minutes dismantled their trainer's, without even getting hit! Fury appeared in Alda'nis's eyes while Imlerith laughed his ass off seeing Ge'els captain angered. While all were cheering Nithral's victory, he approached one of last two instructors he defeated, and gave him a hand to help him get up.

Instructor, at first surprised by this sudden gesture, quickly accepted it and rose on his feet.

- Your name? - Nithral asked him when warrior finally stood straight and stable again.

- Balthasar, Sir. - Warrior replied, saluting him.

Nithral then approached the second warrior and helped him get up too.

- And your name?

- Taenran, Sir. - He bowed with head, showing respect.

- Take off your helmets - Nithral demanded, and they quickly obliged.

- Twins? - he asked, surprised a little seeing identical long face with long black hair, pointy nose and brown eyes. But only a little.

- Yes Sir. - They confirmed, making Nithral smile under his helmet.

- You both have talent, but you lack experience and proper training. - He stated while Imlerith delivered a speech to gathered elves, speaking about "Returning to the beginning" and "Now he will take care of their training", causing excitement among the young warriors - I want to take and personally train you, so you will be able to unlock your true potential. Do you accept or refuse?

Both kneeled before him. - Of course we accept Sir! - they exclaimed, full of enthusiasm.

- Then arise, my squires - Nithral said - There is a lot to be done.

Author's note
Right on schedule! And gears are only warming up!
One thing to clarify - As you noticed, I add some of my own ideas into it, and I will try my best to introduce them properly.
But if I miss something, feel free to point it out.
See you in the in the future!