Thank you for everyone who commented! My two guests, karak22, Ashelia2004, chokingonhello, and of course MyLittleElphie. It is nice to see that so many people enjoy the work. As any writer will tell you, sometimes there are times when you hit the grind and you wonder what you are doing. Your comments really helped re-energize me for this story.
They found Duran sitting cross legged in the same room Elphaba had been in repose. His eyes were closed and his lips moved through a wordless creed. Glinda immediately saw the issue. The spells around him were dancing out of control. They were not fading, like Elphaba's had; rather each were fighting for prominence. Glinda sighed.
"No need for such drama on my part." Duran's voice rang out.
"And how do you suggest we fix this issue?" asked Glinda. "Your spells are worse off than Elphaba's."
"Wait, you can see them?" asked Elphaba. "How?"
"Oh, Durandal gave me the same sight spell he gave you." Glinda answered hurriedly. "But Durandal, what's the remedy here? Recast them? Will they fade?"
"Unfortunately no to both." he smiled and opened his eyes. "My spells will not fade away. Rather, they seem to want to tear my body apart. I believe it is because my core spell was weakened during the transference. If you could tell me if that's true, I would appreciate it."
"How? You're a big ball of spells." Elphaba asked.
"Finesse, Elphie." Glinda responded. "As you view him, turn your sight in your mind like a wheel. It will sharpen your focus."
"Okay."
Glinda let her own witch sight narrow. There was Duran and his spells. All of them seemed full strength; even growing in strength. Pushing them aside, she looked further. Nearly entwined with him was a spell that was red to her witch's eye. Appearing as a fraying number of threads, itl was coming apart under the strain. Glinda slowly pulled back her witch sight.
"Did you catch it, Elphie?" she asked.
"Yeah." Elphaba nodded. "A spell that is being ripped apart."
"So how do we recast that, Durandal?" Glinda asked. "Giving it more energy may cause it to snap."
"Well, that's the rub, isn't it?" he answered. "I don't know how to cast it."
"What do you mean you don't know how to cast it?" Glinda asked in disbelief.
"That's a spell we never learned. It's the core Makelean spell, and only the Master knew it. He died before we escaped. We only figured out how to chain spells to it to make them behave." he explained. Glinda could tell there was something he was not telling them.
"You have an answer, Durandal. What is it?"
"You're not going to like it." he replied.
"The answer?" Elphaba urged.
"The only way to strengthen that spell is to bind ourselves to someone." Duran told them.
"Oh. Okay." Glinda said. "What does that binding do? Like, do you have to stay near us or something?"
"What? No." he laughed. "It generally means we are compelled to look after you. We can go to other places, though, as long as there is not like an immediate threat we know about."
"That doesn't sound too bad." Elphaba said. "What's the catch?"
"The catch is to do the binding ritual requires you to put a sword through my heart."
"I'm sorry, what?" Glinda asked.
"That will kill you." Elphaba agreed. Duran shrugged.
"Not immediately, but symbolically that's the point, and symbolism is the point of rituals. By driving a sword through my heart - and, well, other parts of my body - you will be taking my life. But because of the ritual, I will be healed and bound to you." he explained.
"Has it ever not worked?" Glinda asked.
"Only exceedingly rare instances." Duran smiled bashfully. "Mostly because of weakness of the spirit. Won't be an issue in this case."
"Fine." Glinda threw her hands up in exasperation. "If this is the last life or death decision we have to deal with, then just fine. Let's get to it."
"That won't be the case, unfortunately." Fiyero said as he entered the room. Sarima followed shortly. Glinda did not even care about that at the moment.
"Of course it won't." Glinda griped. "What now?"
"The Yunamata sent a messenger not a week after you arrived." Fiyero answered. "Apparently they want reparation for some warriors of theirs you killed."
"You mean the ones that tried to murder us?" Elphaba asked incredulously. "That takes some gall."
"That's not the body part I was thinking of." Glinda added dryly. "Fiyero, you must know-"
"It's all crap, yes." Fiyero answered. "It's typical Yunamata tactics. Take some alleged slight and turn it into a pretense for war. I just can't figure out why they would have pursued you to begin with."
"I have a feeling someone in the City is pulling strings to keep us on the back foot, and the Arjiki busy. It's classic City tactics to play the Vinkun tribes against each other to keep them weak." Glinda replied. Pausing, she asked. "Will they go to war on the Arjiki?".
"We are too far on the other side of the Kells. If they tried, we would annihilate them." Fiyero shook his head. "Which is why they sent for an honor duel."
"I'm not going to like the rest of this." Elphaba snarked. "I can tell by your voice."
"If they win, their restitution is those they say killed their warriors. You two."
"Yup. Knew it." Elphaba sighed.
"And if you win?" asked Glinda.
"Something equal to their claim." Fiyero replied, shrugging. "I'm not certain as to what yet. Either way, they'll be here within the week. "
"Of course someone is trying to capture us again. Why not right now with everything else going on?" Glinda grumbled. She paused then, and in a dreamy voice said. "The skeins of fate weave taut around this moment. That's why everything is happening now."
"What?" asked Elphaba. "I thought I'm supposed to be the prophetic one."
Glinda turned to look at Duran.
"You felt this all coming. The strands of fate pulling tighter. Fighting the Yunamata; Elphaba's injury; her out of control magic; me summoning Sarima and teaching her; my learning witch sight; the revelation of my pregnancy; and the Yunamata coming to seek vengeance. You foresaw all of it."
"That's a bit of an exaggeration." Duran replied. He coughed, and wiped a bit of blood from his mouth. "I did not see all of this happening, but felt fate trying to weave together this moment."
He gave her a self-satisfied grin.
"I did say you should fly." Duran reminded her smugly.
"And I disagreed with you, setting the threads into motion." Glinda answered horrified. She looked at Elphaba. "What have I done?"
"You made a decision you thought was best, what hell may come." Duran reassured her. The phrase made her turn back to the man. The room did as well.
"What hell comes, Durandal?" Glinda asked him. He looked away. "Do not shy away from me now!"
"Something...I'm not certain of it, but something does come."
When he returned their gaze, the intensity of his stare burned them.
"Fate will not be denied her moment."
The next week was a sprint around the castle. Glinda and Elphaba had to find all the ingredients needed for the ritual. Some were easy, but a couple they had to seek outside its grounds. Fiyero was busy as well, preparing both Kiamo Ko and Red Windmill for the approaching delegation. Sarima bounced between the two groups, helping finding magical ingredients but also helping preparations as she did with the Garamana. When the approaching delegation was sighted two days out, Glinda and Elphaba were prepared for the ritual. Taking an empty side room, they started setting up. Besides Duran, both Sarima and Fiyero were present. This was something that would never be seen again. Neither would miss it.
Elphaba took the jars of ingredients and placed them to the side. Salt, earth, candle oil, and water. A pouch of gold coins, one of copper dust and a jar of bone meal followed after. Finally, a necklace of Glinda's and a pocket watch of Fiyero's.
Glinda grabbed the book the notes were written in. The ritual had to be set up with four points of opposing elements linked by copper and surrounded with salt. Duran had to be in the center of the circle. Anyone could enter, but then they would be part of the ritual.
Taking out a piece of string, Elphaba measured the distance across the room. Cutting the string, she found equal points and marked them with their representative element. Elphaba remeasured again to make sure everything was in the right place. Seeing it was, she dived back into the notes. The ritual itself was pretty simple. Calling upon the eight opposing elements, Glinda would invoke them to create a bind between her and Duran.
Glinda fidgeted as Elphaba drew the ring of salt around the elements. Fastidious as always, Elphaba had tacked a string to the floor and traced her circle. Finishing that, she emptied five of the seven containers into a pile. Drawing from another pouch, Elphaba drew the lines of copper powder around each and connected them in a ring. Elphaba looked at Glinda, holding Duran's sword, and the kneeling man in the middle.
"Ready?" Elphaba asked. "Once the liquid is spilt, we can't go back."
"R-ready." Glinda nodded.
"Ready." Duran answered.
Elphaba took a deep breath and tipped both liquid containers out. She watched them for a moment to make sure they spread to the copper, and then started.
"I call upon the four elements of the physical world to come to my aid." Elphaba intoned, reading off the sheet of paper held in her hand. "Let Earth come through the dirt; let air from the wind around us."
Their clothes fluttered as a breeze flew through the room. The hair on their arms began to rise. Sarima's curly hair even started to float slightly.
"Let water come forth from water spilled; let fire from the oil I ignite."
Elphaba reached into her pocket to bring forth a match, not wanting to risk using her own magic during the sensitive ritual, but the candle oil sparked to life of its own accord. Everyone but Duran jumped. Elphaba steadied her free arm. All noticed the respective copper lines starting to mix with the elements. They began to glow.
"Let the elements intangible come to my call: let chance come from the gold may be gotten, let time from a watch that marks it." Both elements shone. Elphaba watched as the metal began to drip.
"Let love come from a gift given in such; and let death come from what we are reduced to."
The air in the room started to swirl around them. The eight elements bubbled and jumped as the copper connecting them burned like the sun. Sarima and Fiyero shielded their eyes; Elphaba and Glinda's remained wide. The air crackled with magical energy.
Everyone in the room suddenly found it hard to breathe. Glinda especially felt as if ropes were wrapping around her, forcing the air from her lungs. The sensation lessened, then redoubled. Glinda swayed but remained upright. The air throbbed.
"Glinda, now!" Elphaba called.
The blonde lifted the sword and placed it on Duran's chest. Blue eyes locked on brown. Glinda's hand shook, and the tip wobbled. The air throbbed again. Glinda could feel the ritual rising and ebbing. Soon it would break and be over.
"Glinda!" Elphaba yelled.
"I-I can't!" she cried. Her eyes never left his. "I can't do it! I can't kill someone!"
Tears streamed down her face. The spell gripped her tight, one last squeeze before it would break. But then Glinda felt a hand on hers. A green hand.
"Together then." were the hard words in her ear.
"Do it now!" Duran commanded.
Both women closed their eyes and pressed forward. There was a wet sound as they felt the smooth slide of sword in flesh. Duran explosively exhaled as the air was forced from his lungs. A slight click and the blade path was redirected. Elphaba's brain idly informed her that was most likely his spine.
With that, the women's brains recoiled in horror, and they pulled back. The blade slid free and Duran fell forward onto his hands. The women looked at the blade. It was clean. The spell sank until it dispersed. Both women opened their witch sight. The fire around Duran had settled, more than they had ever seen. It seemed calmed, as if given something it always lacked. Both let out ragged sighs of relief.
"Perfectly...done." Duran gasped. He looked at them. The women noticed that though he was whole, there was a large scar over his heart. "Now...I'm going to sleep...for the first time in...a long time. It's...natural."
With that, the man collapsed.
"If I never have to do that again, I'll be happy with my life." Glinda breathed.
"Agreed." Elphaba replied.
"Now how are we gonna get him somewhere to sleep?" Glinda asked. "I can't carry him."
"I can float him!" Sarima offered. Glinda blinked.
"Not a bad idea." Glinda said. "Let's get him some place to rest."
"The guest room by yours is open." Fiyero told her. "Unfortunately, I have to make ready for our visitors."
"Understandable." Glinda nodded.
"Now Sarima," Elphaba said, "do you remember how to float someone?"
"Yes, I simply…"
Fiyero walked across the drawbridge of Kiamo Ko. Standing at its end were the leaders of the Yunamata delegation. As was tradition, next to them was a burning fire. Behind Fiyero came a couple of his advisors, and Sarima. Both sides went through the traditional greetings. Now it was time for business.
"What is the misdeed you lay before me?" Fiyero asked formally.
"Two of those under your care slew warriors of the Yunamata. We come seeking blood payment in turn." the leader responded. He was a middle aged man with a strong build and scars that told of a life earning his place.
"And who are these two?"
"The milk white shaman and the green beast." he answered. Fiyero did not rise to the bait of his insults.
"And you have such proof of these misdeeds?"
"My word is my proof."
"And where did your warriors encounter these two?" asked Fiyero. The man started slightly. This was not the traditional way these things went. One would say it happened, the other would deny it, challenge and its outcome.
"What does it matter?" he asked.
"It matters because both shamans walk on the air." Fiyero replied. "Are you saying that your own warriors can do the same?"
"No, but that does not mean they could not have done it." the Yunamata leader contested.
"Are you suggesting your warriors were hunted down from the air like we would hunt the deer across the plains?" Fiyero asked. The Yunamata clenched his jaw. Fiyero had trapped him into either insulting his warriors by stating they had a poor death, or admitting they had encountered them on the ground.
"No." the Yunamata responded. "They came across them while passing through the Kells."
"I see." Fiyero paused. "And what were Yunamata warriors doing in the Pass?"
"They were returning from a meeting of tribes." he muttered. No one believed it for the moment. But the pretense was enough.
"And so the shamans slew your warriors as they returned through the Pass while meeting them on foot?" Fiyero summarized.
"Yes." the man growled. Fiyero nodded.
"I see." He paused. "I determine your word false. Those who can walk on the air do not need passes through mountains."
"Then we shall submit it to the gods to determine. I demand a decision by combat."
"And if you are victorious? What is your claim?" Fiyero asked, already knowing the answer. The Yunamata smiled.
"The shamans."
"And if I win?" Fiyero asked.
"We offer you two of our shaman in return."
"Two Yunamata shaman?" Fiyero scoffed. "You ask much in victory but give so little in defeat."
"You insult us!" the Yunamata hissed. Fiyero shook his head.
"No, you insult the two you wish to claim. One is the Witch of the West, and the most powerful sorcerer in all of Oz. The other was the leader of the Oz twice, and is the second most powerful sorcerer. Your shaman cannot compare in value. Not even all of those in your tribe."
"So what is it you ask in return?"
"If we are proved to be true," Fiyero paused. "I demand the Yunamata submit to the Arjiki."
"What?" the Yunamata growled, looking as if going to surge forward. The surrounding retainers tensed in preparation for conflict.
"Yes. Your whole tribe is worth the two you ask for." Fiyero answered. "Furthermore, your warriors trespassed on Arjiki soil in what was either a scouting or raiding pack. No Yunamata sends members to tribes unless it is for a challenge like this. Finally, if your warriors were truly slain by the two, then they would have had to ambush them on the ground. These collective insults are more than enough for a justified call to war."
The Yunamata man scowled.
"You don't have the steel for it." he spat.
"Perhaps if it was just our warriors but," Fiyero smiled ferally, "as you say, I've two shaman on my side that can slay a warpack of warriors without being harmed. Tell me, how do you think you would fair?"
The man's mouth pinched tighter. Fiyero knew he was calculating his tribe's chances, and they were not good. Of course, neither Elphaba nor Glinda would participate in a war but he did not know that. Fiyero had trapped him to either wager more than they could afford, or back down. Neither was something they did easily.
"I must consult our leaders." he said.
The group moved away from the fire, and so did Fiyero's. As they waited, Fiyero could hear them talking and see them sending messages with magic. He hoped that the chieftains would baulk and call off the challenge. The Yunamata were a proud people, but no matter how good their champion duel outcomes were never certain. To wager fealty for the entire tribe would be foolish. The Yunamata walked back to the group, and so did Fiyero's.
"The decision?" Fiyero asked.
"The chieftains agree to your terms." the Yunamata said. Fiyero was shocked, but managed to nod his head.
"Tomorrow morning, then." Fiyero intoned.
"Tomorrow morning." the Yunamata leader agreed. With that, the fire was extinguished and both parties retreated.
"I don't understand it." Fiyero muttered. He was sitting in his hall surrounded by his advisors. Glinda, Elphaba, and Sarima were there too. "No sane person would wager their clan's allegiance on a duel. No matter how supremely confident they are in their champion."
"The Yunamata have always been a bit daring." Sarima tried. Even her voice told them she did not believe it. Fiyero shook his head.
"No. There's something going on here."
"Maybe a trap? An ambush?" suggested Elphaba. Fiyero shook his head again.
"No. Breaking the traditions would end in their destruction as their people and livestock would be considered open targets."
"Perhaps they look to cast doubt on the final verdict unless they win?" Glinda suggested. "Use some sort of magic to obscure the result or suggest interference?"
"Possible, but I don't know how. You three are here to guard against that." Fiyero pursed his lips.
Duran chose that moment to come through the door. The man's face was hard.
"I hear there is a duel tomorrow." he started with no preamble. "I need to be the one in it."
"How dare you-" one of Fiyero's advisors started, but Fiyero held up a hand.
"Leave us." he ordered.
The advisors looked at him, but started to leave. Sarima did also, but a look from Fiyero rooted her to the spot. After the door shut, Fiyero let out a deep breath. He gave Duran a hard glare.
"I do not appreciate you coming in here and making demands at me. Especially in Vinkun matters." he warned sternly.
"Neither of the women are Vinkun, nor is the offender." Duran rebutted. Fiyero waved a hand.
"It doesn't matter. You are associated with me and therefore it is a Vinkun matter. Even more so that a tribe's allegiance at play."
"Then it is even more imperative I be the one that fights. None of your warriors can compare to me."
"Perhaps that is true," Fiyero nodded, "but it would fly in the face of all tradition. To do so would be repugnant to anyone who values the traditions of the Vinkus."
"Traditions change and can be broken." Duran gave Fiyero a hard stare. "Especially if one can crown themselves King of the Vinkus."
"What King would I be if I cast aside our people's beliefs so readily?" Fiyero shook his head. "No, Gawae, my cousin and champion, will be the one to fight."
"Don't be foolish, Fiyero." Duran hissed.
"I don't care to be called a fool. Even by one such as you." Fiyero spat back. He stood. "We are finished here."
Glinda held up a hand. Fiyero stopped.
"What is it, Durandal?" she asked. "This is very out of character of you."
"Fate comes to this moment." he replied. "I sense a dark one if the Arjiki are not victorious here."
"I admit it is not ideal." Fiyero sighed. "But I cannot turn my back on my people's ways simply for convenience. Even if we are to lose, those two will either run or be captive for no more than a day before they free themselves."
"No." Duran shook his head. "If you don't win, a tide of blood follows."
"What have you seen?" Elphaba asked. "I've nothing in my dreams."
"Because something clouds them." Duran replied. "When I woke, I felt a tremendous doom. I tried to read the tea leaves of the future, but they sat flat. Whatever comes, whomever has maneuvered them such, has blocked our view of this moment and beyond."
"So how do you know blood comes?" asked Fiyero.
"Because if you fail, either the women flee, starting a war between the Arjiki and the Yunamata, or they are held captive, and I do not believe they would last outside the week. In which we would all be worse off."
"The best I can do is a second." Fiyero exhaled in resignation. "It would make sense as you are seen as a bodyguard to Glinda, and it is her on the line as well. But I cannot do more."
"I understand." Duran replied. With that, he spun and left the room.
"I've got a bad feeling about this." Fiyero said. Everyone in the room agreed.
The morning of the duel the courtyard was crowded, as was the far end of the bridge. As was decided, the duel was to be fought on the drawbridge. Not the wisest idea but the most symbolic, and duels were as much about symbolism as they were swords. Fiyero's retinue stood next to him, as did his own guards and tribespeople. His cousin Gawae was there, sweat covering his brow. Glinda and Elphaba watched from behind them, a cloaked figure at their side. As the Yunamata delegation approached, and Fiyero went to meet them, Gawae suddenly turned and vomited on the cobblestones. Fiyero looked at him in concern.
"Are you alright, cousin?" he asked.
"Just a minor-" was as far as Gawae got before he vomited again. He sank to the cobblestones clutching his stomach. "I-I-I'm afraid I'm not -"
He let the contents of his stomach spew from his mouth. At the same time, there was another gurgling sound. Fiyero pursed his lips.
"You are sick. It happens to the best of us. Please, go rest." he said.
Motioning, two of his retinue helped him up and into the castle. As they passed the trio, Fiyero glared in their direction. He jerked his head, but otherwise turned towards the waiting delegation. Glinda and Elphaba moved forward, the cloaked Duran at their side. Fiyero waited until they were near him, and then spoke.
"It seems my champion has fallen ill." the venom in his voice was evident. "Did you have something to do with this?"
"Nothing, I swear." Glinda answered.
"Of course not." Elphaba huffed.
"I was not asking either of you." he replied. "Duran?"
"And what would it change if I did?" Duran answered.
"We will have issues after this." Fiyero warned.
"Of that I have no doubt."
"Prepare yourself." Fiyero told him. "I'll go to meet them."
Fiyero and his retinue moved away. The trio stepped back behind the crowd which reformed to watch the proceedings. Once sufficiently hidden, Duran stepped away and started to warm up. Glinda noticed he moved stiffly (for him, at least), and he slowly worked his way through his motions. She also found it strange he remained mostly cloaked. Either way, she turned to watch the forthcoming ritual.
"Problems?" asked the Yunamata leader to Fiyero with a smug smile.
"Just someone drinking too much last night." Fiyero responded. "Let us begin."
The pre-duel ritual was ornate but rather straightforward. The Yunamata stated their grievances, Fiyero denied them, and then they demanded retribution. The shamans of the two tribes invoked the spirits in a traditional but non-magical way, and both sides vowed on the spirits to honor the outcome of the duel. Then, the challenger brought forth their champion. The crowd muttered as a man in doublet and pantaloons with high boots moved forward. The most astonishing part was he was not Yunamata, but a white man with a big smile. Glinda thought there was something off about him.
As the ritual continued, Duran shucked his own cloak. The Arjiki around him muttered, unhappy he was to be their champion. Two outsiders fighting for Vinkuns was an affront to their people. However, as Duran moved quickly now through his motions, his shirt gaped. Those around him took in the scars of his body, and quieted. As the ritual concluded, the Yunamata champion stepped forward to offer the traditional challenge.
"Come! Who looks to die on my blade?" he shouted across the drawbridge, flourishing his blade in a set of movements meant to intimidate. "Don't be shy! I promise to make it quick. I mean, it will be humiliating for you but that's not my fault! Who is it? You?"
The Arjiki faces pulled tighter in disgust. The man had no sense of honor or decorum. Fiyero glanced over at the Yunamata leader who had a look of strained patience on his face, but ambition in his eyes. Now Fiyero knew there was something more to this person.
Something clicked in Glinda's mind, and she walked over to Duran.
"Which one is he?" she asked.
"I see you figured it out." he answered.
Glinda watched Duran unsheathe his rapier and toss the scabbard aside. Striding to the bridge, he gave Elphaba and her a nod as he passed. As the crowd began to part, the man on the drawbridge laughed.
"Ah, here comes the hero now! Don't keep me waiting! I'm eager to spill your blood!"
When Duran appeared, the smile on the man faltered. Duran met it with one of his own.
"Hello, Mikel."