Mythborn (63 page)

The Demise of Fear

Thus what is most important in combat,

Is not to fight for violence’s sake,

But to attack your opponent’s strategy.

-
          
Kensei Tsao, The Lens of Blades

Y
ou think Ash is just going to let you escape?” Kisan asked, moving to Arek’s left.

Arek shrugged and said, “I don’t care what he does, but with the blood gate closed the only person who knows how to get us home is Duncan.”

The simple statement had its desired effect on Kisan. She muttered a curse, then looked at Ash and said, “You’re letting that murderer go free? Why not kill the red mage now?” She smiled, evidently thinking Arek would have his hands full trying to stop the firstmark and dealing with her simultaneously. Clearly she did not value her own return to Edyn as much as Arek’s and Duncan’s death, but she’d underestimated the young commander.

“He’s a prisoner,” Ash said, “and until he faces trial, under my protection. And as Arek says, he might still be of some use.” The firstmark stepped forward and pointed his blade at a spot right between Kisan’s eyes, “However, I do like the idea of payback,” he said, tapping his own stomach where Kisan had run him through.

The master gave them a dark smile, “Everyone
really
wants to die today.”

Yetteje stepped forward and said, “Can’t we unite? We’re not free of here yet and Edyn needs us.” She looked at Kisan, “All of us.”

When no one answered, Arek pitched his voice to Ash and said, “I’d like everyone to back off, Firstmark. This is between me and her.”

The laugh he got was unexpected. “Sorry kid, this isn’t practice. She has a better than good chance of killing us all.”

Yetteje laughed too and said, “You didn’t mind my help under Bara’cor.”

He didn’t like that, but Arek kept a cool head and settled into his combat stance. In truth, their skill couldn’t be denied, and he knew his master would’ve counseled the same.

“Honorable to the end, even if it means three against one,” quipped Kisan, crossing her black blades in front of her body.

Ash smiled, “I’m not buying the defenseless bit.” He arched an eyebrow, as if waiting for her to commit.

When Kisan moved, it was sudden and unerring. She did not attack any of the three arrayed before her, but instead threw a brace of feather blades at Duncan.

Arek was out of position and turned, only to see Ash dive and put his own wings up as a shield. The next instant his vision went black. He instinctively rolled and could feel two blades imbed themselves one after the other following his path. The fact that Kisan was trying to kill him became suddenly very real.

When he’d regained his feet he saw her loop Valor out from Yetteje’s grasp then turn it around to choke the princess while using her body as a shield. Rage filled him and he moved towards them but Kisan must have sensed it. She dropped the semiconscious princess and met Arek head on, bringing the fight close, her blades having shrunk to the size of daggers. Her expression promised this would be brutal and without mercy. The only problem was Arek still held his long blades.

The new adept didn’t hesitate but dropped them, quickly blocking her strikes at the crook of her elbow and wrist with his forearms, then countering toher neck with his hand in an ope
nY
.

She fell back gagging and dropped a blade, but was right back at him. Then Arek felt something ice cold slip into his side, and saw blood welling out from her stab. Kisan gestured and her lost knife flew back into her waiting hand.

Yetteje had recovered and now attacked with blazing arrow after arrow from her bow. One pierced Kisan’s thigh, but the master didn’t seem to notice. Instead she whirled and kicked, sending a discarded sword flying into the girl’s temple. The princess crumpled as the heavy pommel cracked into her skull.

Arek watched, horrified, then wished he’d held onto his blades. To his surprise they jumped back into his own hands! He realized with dismay now that just like Kisan, he had control over the length of his weapons. It was an expensive lesson to learn. A sudden wave of dizziness made the world tilt but he blinked and recovered. When he refocused, Kisan wasn’t there.

Something slammed into the ground, creating a small shock wave of force. Arek felt it bounce him slightly. It didn’t knock anyone down, instead four torcs that lay nearby got tossed into the air. These the master struck with her swords in quick succession, batting them unerringly at Arek and Ash.

Arek deflected the two sent at him, then moved in, finally locating the master as she materialized from the shadows where she’d obscured herself, quickly feinted back to her right. Metallic
tangs
told him Ash must’ve also successfully blocked his torcs. He was on Kisan, his sword licking out at her hip in a flash of silver.

Kisan kicked and caught the firstmark’s wrist, deflecting his weapon outward, then continued her spin so that her other leg delivered a spinning hook kick at Arek.

Arek ducked and spun under her leg, trying to sweep her. Rather than jump over his sweep, she let him hit her balancing leg, using it to give herself more momentum. The result was an aerial kick, magnified by Arek’s sweep. It caught the firstmark across his head, stunning and knocking him back.

Arek rolled even as Kisan’s knee came down with crushing force, cracking the wood underneath where he’d just laid.

He stood, surveying the scene, knowing Kisan had gotten the better of them in that first exchange. Yetteje and Duncan were down but Brianna had pulled them back behind a small outcropping and drawn her weapon, though she was not pointing it at anyone. Ash slowly regained his feet. Kisan had risen from where she’d landed, looking at Arek in disdain.

“Inept, slow, pondering, and bleeding like a stuck pig,” she remarked, her eyes glancing at Arek’s side. Then she flicked her wings forward and back and a hailstorm of blades flew in opposite directions, both at the firstmark and Arek.

They ducked behind their wings, but the
zip
of Brianna’s weapon firing repeatedly told Arek the master must be heading towards the dwarven healer. If Kisan took her out, any chance of them surviving was reduced to almost zero. He gathered the Way and then sent a blaze of pure whitefire at the retreating form of the black-winged master, who had shielded herself from Brianna’s fire using her feather blades.

At the last moment she turned and faced Arek’s attack. The blast engulfed her in an argent firestorm that should have turned her to ashes. Instead it wrapped around her wings, then gathered into a ball of coruscating energy between her hands. The master did not even pause but tossed the ball casually at the firstmark, who covered up again just as it detonated. The resultant blast sent Ash flying back to land in a smoking heap.

A few more shots from Brianna were casually blocked with a flick of Kisan’s wings or ricocheted off her armor in random directions. Kisan looked at Arek and sneered, “I took a lightning spear once. Taught me a lesson.” Without another word she launched herself at him.

Arek’s wings flicked out blades in deadly procession, his instincts as true as Kisan’s own given the short time he’d had his new form. However, as she’d pointed out, instinct wasn’t experience and the master had spent more time fighting in her Artymis form than Arek. Her swords spun a figure eight as she neared, deflecting his feather blades as she tucked behind her wings.

A short snap kick caught Arek’s knee, locking it back painfully. The second downward smash he avoided by rolling to his right, but that gave Kisan the advantage of freeing up her blades and wings. She stabbed downward with all her weapons in rapid succession, the razor wingtips and sword points puncturing the wood in a staccato measure, trying to literally nail him to the ground.

Arek continued to evade, his side leaving a trail of blood as he fought to get away from the jabbing death of the master’s attack.

Then Ash was there, smashing into her and driving her to a knee.

As she fell she reached over and grabbed the firstmark by the head, throwing him over her shoulder. The man landed heavily, the breath whooshing out of him. Kisan’s hammer fist caught him in the chest, then her elbow came down hard on his forehead. The firstmark lay there, stunned and semiconscious. Only his helm and armor had saved him from being killed instantly. The master rose slowly, her swords lengthening.

Arek stood facing her with his weapons drawn. They regarded one another for a moment. A steadiness, a calm sense of strength settled over him and he breathed, “Azrael is with me.”

Kisan cocked her head at that. “Piter deserved better,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow. Then she said, “You were always a disappointment to Themun, to all of us.”

His heart skipped a beat at that, a momentary break in his composure. Her instincts were so finely tuned to any change, like an animal sensing weakness, that two kicks were launched at him before he blinked. One came at his head and the other low, towards his groin.

Arek ducked under the first and spun out of the path of the second, but he missed the spinning heel that drove into his gut, sending him sprawling backwards. He breathed out at the strike, focusing his strength, automatically using his momentum to roll to his feet. He saw her smile, as if letting him know she could play him like an instrument whenever she wanted.

Her smirk began to fill him with rage, but something strange happened. In that instant something cool and calm descended over him. It was a balm, a salve acting like psychic armor. He could feel his strength flow, pure and clean, so unlike the fear that had always been his constant companion in life. And with that a realization struck him, a moment of crystal clarity that would forever change who he fundamentally was.

The opposite of fear was not courage. Courage was acting in spite of fear. The opposite of fear was…
understanding
. Insight was the counter to fear.

A smile came to his lips, the only sign that a wondrous change was happening within. His knowledge of Kisan and her tactics gave him rare insight, enough to counter any fear he might feel. He’d always known her taunts were designed to play on his uncertainties. Silbane had berated him again and again to maintain control but it had always been impossible. Rational thought left him when she played her mind games.

This time however, he didn’t feel the white hot rage that would normally have consumed him. Instead, his measured composure gave him insight into Kisan, though whether this came from his master’s final advice or something within himself he couldn’t tell. He began to see things, small details he might have otherwise missed.

He noticed the sweat, which meant this wasn’t as easy as she was making it out to be. He also noticed she was talking, something she knew not to do during combat. She loved saying, ‘Kill first, you can always talk to their memory’. It was a sign of her doubt. Arek’s eyes flicked to Ash, who still wasn’t moving.

One thing was certain—insight or not, if he didn’t break her composure, she would ultimately win. She was just too precise, too experienced, and with Ash and Tej down, it meant life or death for all of them. So he selected his next words carefully.

“Those magehunters took more than your family, they broke you inside,” he said softly.

“What?” whispered Kisan, her eyes widening a little.

“Silbane believed you were better,” he continued. He shook his head sadly. “He said you feared love and now I know why.”

“Shut up,” Kisan said, her eyes fierce.

“Deep down inside you thought it was pity, and you couldn’t stand it.” Arek was watching intently, knowing he was getting through. His newfound and more precise combat sense told him Brianna was still there with Tej, and Ash was recovering. He needed to buy more time. “Silbane
loved
you,” he said, “and for that, he had to die.”

Kisan’s smile faltered, her eyes flicked left and right. Then with a scowl she attacked. Her strikes came in fast rapid succession, her blade work still perfect in the extreme. Yet he could see her anger show itself in the overkilling force she used.

Arek slid left as a blade passed by his neck and narrowly avoided another to his leg. He threw a wing in her face then ducked under her sweeping slice, moving in close, but held his strike. Instead he grappled, pulling her in close, and said, “You couldn’t kill his faith in you,” Arek looked her in the eyes, “so you killed him instead.”

The master didn’t say anything, instead she sent a knee crashing into his armored chest. Before he could recover, the pommel of her blade hit the side of his helm and he fell back.

Kisan now attacked with a palpable fury, her strikes coming almost faster than he could block. Then she dropped her blades, as if she wanted to beat him to death with her bare hands, her lips stretched back over a rictus-like snarl of hate.

He stopped a ridge hand, only to be hit hard with an elbow. He ducked under the next one and punched her in the midsection but it barely slowed her down. He had to get her out of this armored form, but how? Even angry the armor protected her from her own worst mistakes.

She aimed her stiffened fingers for his eyes. He’d seen those fingers go through stone. He blocked using the outside of his wrist, then came in throwing elbow after elbow in an effort to overwhelm her. He crashed three hard strikes into her crossed forearms and shoulder before she countered.