Though many scholars scoff at myths as tales of imagination, there is one piece of lore that has puzzled as well as intrigued the academic world. In every civilization, transversing kind and culture, a similar tale can be found of a race born of shadow and darkness, which possessed unparalleled power that both awed and terrified all. Some myths describe this power to be an irresistible allure, while others speak of their presence taking away a man’s free will.
In these myths, they dominate the known world, until their absolute tyranny compelled disparate peoples to set aside their differences and unite against this looming threat. This grand alliance joined forces and reshaped the very landscape. Carving mountains from the earth which became the colossal prison which confined these monsters and safeguarded the world from their reign of darkness.
While their existence remains uncertain, the convergence of these strikingly similar legends across distant cultures has ignited the debate on whether these powerful beings once walked our realm.
Among those who believe so, it has been proposed that this prison still exists in the form of the Mountain Range surrounding the area called Diaden by the peoples of Fireste. There is some appeal to this theory as none have been able to transverse these mountains and lived to tell the tale. A surprising fact as even the Range of the Gods has been conquered by men.
~ The History and Peoples of Magic by Sir Rainaldus Gale
Lidea had forgotten how busy the midsummer festival got. Although it was early day, the streets were already packed with people strolling from one market stand to another. Shopkeepers cried out to every passer-by offering anything under the sun that could be sold. Ever since King Silvanus first created the channel that connected the eastern and western oceans, Lynoës had turned into an attractive destination for merchants from all over Asmeon, but it was especially true during these three weeks.
Surprisingly the growing power of the Pleberien church didn’t seem to impact the market’s grandness, though she suspected any wares of the northern countries to be absent. Elvish fabrics or jewels from the mines in Zylcrah or Ishtar would be seen as tainted by the magic used to produce them.
It was a pity, but at least the city was more lively than it had been in months. Watching from her vantage point in the bay window, she could almost imagine herself to have returned in time, before the ban of magic and the death of her father. The thought filled her with melancholy and she tried to distract herself by finding her men in the crowd below.
Lidea couldn’t immediately find them, contenting her that they had listened to her admonishment about not grouping together. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but it was better to be careful. A big group of trained men together might draw suspicion and she would rather avoid any unwanted attention.
Finally, she found Cedric standing with Firon and Taylor near the fighting ring. His second round was about to start and based on his easy stance, Lidea was convinced he was feeling far too smug after winning his first fight in one move. She wished she had a better view of what happened. From where she was standing, it looked as if he had simply moved forward and caused his opponent to fall and not get up. Whatever he had done, must have been impressive as loud cheering had risen from the audience.
Still winning one fight was no excuse to start feeling overconfident. If she had been able to stand with them, she would have made sure to remind him of that. However, it was too big of a risk considering the city guard was still looking for a woman with a half-burned face. No doubt due to their actions in the Northern Quarter.
The smell of food wafted her way, making her mouth water and causing her to turn and see Warchief coming up the stairs. The wooden steps creaked dangerously as he came to stand beside her in de cramped space. The deserted building they had broken into, hadn’t been maintained for years and Lidea had the feeling it could collapse on them at any moment. Still, it was worth it for her to see if she had prepared the men enough for a real fight. Especially now that it looked like the fighting would kick off earlier than they had planned.
We aren’t ready.
“How are they doing?”
As he spoke, he offered one of the two steaming buns he was holding. The source of the delicious smell. She greedily accepted one, thanking him only after having taken her first bite. It was filled with heavily spiced rabbit meat that almost made her moan in delight. How she had missed proper food.
“So far most have made it through the first round. Second round more have been falling off, but Firon made it and Cedric will be starting at any moment.”
“That explains the crowd around the ring. His previous fight seemed to have gained him some popularity.”
“He doesn’t have the build of a typical fighter. He have surprised them all.”
“Including me. I wasn’t aware that he had progressed this much.”
“Well, if you were more present at practice you would have known.”
Lidea sniped at the opening to let him know she still wasn’t fine with him disappearing these last couple of weeks.
“But it is far more fun to be surprised.”
He smiled innocently, clearly enjoying her annoyance and causing Lidea to roll her eyes.
“You know, my mother told me that your eyes would get stuck if you roll them too much.”
Despite her glare, he kept on smiling.
“Well, your mother might have lied to you.”
“She would never!”
Holding his hand on his chest he acted overly offended while smiling playfully. This time, however, his antics didn’t mellow her like they usually did. Instead, she grunted in annoyed agreement before turning her gaze back to the fighting ring.
“I just hope he knows better than to let his victory go to his head.”
“A young man that just managed to pummel someone who he previously wouldn’t have been able to even touch. Of course, he will be feeling like he is on top of the world. How could he not be proud?”
Lidea rolled her eyes again, not as amused by the fact as Warchief seemed to be.
“Arrogance is worse than stupidity when it comes to growth.”
“Making mistakes is the best way for them to learn.”
He countered easily and his laid-back nature irritated her. How could he not realize that they didn’t have time to make mistakes? As soon as the festival was over, there could be an attack at any moment. A war was about to start and they were the first enemy that stood in the crown’s way.
“Not when those mistakes can cost them their lives!”
Her words were sharper than she had meant them to be and she kept her gaze through the window outside. Not ready to see if she had offended the man who had saved her life. She could feel his eyes drilling holes at the side of her face, but his response wasn’t one she had expected.
“The city must bring up many memories for you. Did you used to visit the festival?”
His voice had softened and glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she saw him leaning against the window beside her with his eyes on the market square below. His question caused the memories she had been struggling with all morning to resurface and she couldn’t help her voice sounding thick as she answered.
“Father would always bring me here.”
Turning to her he simply nodded in understanding.
“For your birthday, I guess? He was a great man for doing that. I can only imagine how busy he was.”
She didn’t answer this time. Knowing that speaking would be opening herself up to crying.
“I’m sorry he isn’t here with you. I was going to give this to you later, as it is a gift from both Crystal and me, but maybe it can help cheer you up a bit.”
Curiosity made her look at him and Warchief smiled back before grabbing at something invisible at his hip.
“It was about time you would have a blade once more.”
Holding the invisible thing in his hands, it suddenly turned into a sword. Smaller than those the men used but bigger than the one Valerian had gifted her so long ago. It missed any ornamentation. Its cross guard was a plain straight bar, and the grip was bound in dark brown leather. Still, it was the most unique sword she had ever seen due to the material of its blade. The steel had a wavy pattern with some of the ribbons being more blueish in color while others were almost white.
Hesitantly she took the sword from his hands, expecting it to be heavy but it wasn’t.
“I have never seen anything like it…”
She uttered out loud. Stepping back from the alcove into the wider space of the room behind to test out its balance by swinging it around.
“It is a new kind of material developed in Fireste.”
“Demons?”
“Yes, Demons are the best wielders in the realm. It won’t break on you and should be easy to maintain. After all, you went through, Crystal and I thought you deserved something more than just any sword on the market.”
“I know of demon steel, but how did you get such a sword all the way here?”
She stared at the weapon in disbelief and her wonder made Warchief grin.
“Crystal knew someone who could help us, so we sent them a letter. It took some back and forth but eventually, he managed to send it this way. I have been waiting daily for his messenger to arrive.”
“That is why you were gone so often.”
“Yep. I will admit, it was a lot of fun to see you harping at me, while not knowing I was gone because of you.”
She felt herself turn red at that realization.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It amused me greatly.”
Still red, she tried to forget her embarrassment as she held up the sword, looking at her reflection in its mirror finish. Lidea had never thought she would be able to see, let alone, handle a demonic sword. Despite the prejudice against their kind, their superior skills in metalworking were known and acknowledged by all. One would be stupid to throw away such a magnificent weapon, just because it was made in Fireste. She almost felt unworthy to wield it.
Looking back at Warchief, she couldn’t believe they had gone this far to get her a new weapon.
“It is beautiful, thank you Warchief.”
He grinned and took a bow before winking playfully.
“Everything for our princess. Just try to act surprised when I give it to you again before Crystal.”
This time she did laugh as she nodded.
“I will do my best, though she has told me that I’m not a great liar.”
“Ow yeah, I forgot about that. Well, seems like can put that sword to good use to help protect me.”
“And risk damaging it? I rather not.”
“I can’t believe my life is not worth more to you than a sword!”
“I mean, have you seen it?”
Warchief looked at her offended, causing her to laugh harder.
Her attention was diverted when she could hear cheering, clueing her in that the fight was about to start. Still hiccupping she came to stand next to him again and looked out the window. Cedric stood at one side of the fighting ring, his practice sword loosely in hand. He seemed relaxed, but even from here she could see him playing with his grip on the sword, the only show of his nerves. At least he hadn’t lost his head completely.
His opponent stood on the other side. A dark-skinned man with tattoos covering every part of his upper body. Unlike the intricate patterns some of the Udrän wore, these were patchy, showing off different styles and colors. He was probably from somewhere South of Lynoës, though she didn’t think he came from the neighboring Worrackx, from where most foreign fighters hailed during these tournaments.
“It has been a while since I saw a fighter from Terriath, Cedric will have his work cut out for him.”
She had forgotten that Warchief was a Southerner as well. His tawny skin was so ambiguous that he could have come from anywhere except for the very north of the Continent. Funnily enough, she would have expected him to be darker if he came from Deloshra, but that might have been a misconception on her part.
“What makes you so sure he is from Terriath? I thought they preferred hand-to-hand combat?”
“Some tribes do but others do not. The biggest giveaway are the tattoos. In Terriath they receive them for every accomplishment in life. When you reach adulthood, your first fight, your first win, marriage, and so on.”
Lidea took another look at the tattoos and wondered about the man’s age. He seemed to be too young to have already collected so many of them.
“You get them also every certain amount of fights won. This guy is clearly experienced.”
“Is Terriath where you learned to fight?”
The match started and both opponents lunged at each other to exchange a series of strikes and parries. Neither Lidea nor Warchief looked away as he responded to her question.
“No. I learned the basics in Deloshra and was mostly self-taught from then onwards.”
A kick in de stomach launched Cedric to the side but he managed to just stop himself from sliding out of the ring, getting back on his feet and retaking his position a lot more carefully this time.
Good. Keep your cool, find his weak spot.
“I have never seen anyone fight like you. It would be interesting to see someone from Deloshra to compare with.”
“I fear it will be an unlikely meeting. The Deloshra people don’t travel. They like their comfy luxury a bit too much. Why go away when anywhere else is worse than the country you are in?”
As Cedric exchanged another blow with his opponent, she tried to recall what she even knew about Deloshra. Mostly nothing, except that it is known for its copious amounts of fruits.
“If it is that nice, why did you leave?”
That darkness she had seen a couple of times now, came over him again but it dissipated as he sighed.
“I lost my family young. There was nothing for me to stay for, so I started wandering.”
The emotionless way in which he gave his response, made her look away from the fight at him. With the pain she experienced from only her father, she couldn’t even imagine what it was like to lose your whole family.
She wanted to say something until Warchief’s brows furrowed.
“Is that smoke?”
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