34

The students walk through the field from Sar’s tent to the next. Valere has broken off from the group to find Sion. The students chat among themselves as a gentle breeze goes by. Anima, Scima, and Eva are all not quite so relaxed, all still worried about Sion.

Suddenly, dozens of figures appear and surround the group. The monstrous attackers have them far outnumbered. The students shy back, feeling the threat emanating from their attackers. Scima, a fool in all cases, begins to step forward with a smile on his face, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Eva places a hand on his shoulder to keep him from fighting.

Rebello Faegen passes by them, taking a long drink from his gourd. Feeling sufficiently tipsy, he eyes up his enemies. He laughs as he looks at them, then suddenly slams Scima into the ground.

“It’s time for a festival! Just lay down and watch, brat!”

Eva kneels to check on Scima. He begins to pick himself off the ground, shuddering with indignation and glowering at Rebello’s back.

Rebello, meanwhile, has reached the nearest group. He pulls back one arm, dashing forward as he thrusts it out. His fist collides with one man, his entire body covered in bandages. The force of the blow blasts him back, the ones behind him and to the side taken along with him. Rebello takes another drink from his gourd and looks towards his next target. He moves quickly, before his enemy can react, and slams the sole of his boot into the man’s stomach. The man reels from the heavy blow and falls to the ground. Rebello laughs again and takes a drink.

However, before he can make his next move, Sar appears riding the back of a large avian monster. The creature is disturbing to look at: an uneven number of eyes, three on one side of the head but only one on the other, and the tips of its wings appear almost melted. When it opens its beak and screeches at Rebello it reveals a full set of fang-like teeth.

“Shut up your damn bird, will you! That damn squawking will ruin my drink! Don’t be such a coward and get down here and let me crush your skull like normal!” Sar sneers at him.

“Hah! What makes you so sure I’m your enemy, knave?” Rebello laughs at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous! If that’s supposed to be a joke, then I think you need to change what you’re studying! I mean, when was the last time you met a monster researcher who wasn’t at least a little touched in the head!”

“What a rude man you are. If I am your enemy, what do you intend to do about it, so far below me?”

“For one thing, don’t doubt a man’s ability to reach far beyond his station, especially once he’s had a few good drinks in him! For another thing, we’re already fighting, so you might as well announce yourself!”

“How worthless, but very well. No reason to hide my purpose here. I am Hyrtan the Destruction, right-hand of My Lord, the Supreme Commander of the True Dracabanan Army! For My Lord’s sake I will destroy you all here, and take the princess captive! Know that you brought this fate upon yourselves when you went against us!”

“Hah! You attacked us! But what does it matter for morons like you!” Behind Rebello is Scima’s voice, shouting towards the sky.

“Don’t think you’ll have an easy death!”

Scima swings his sword, a blade of light shooting out towards Hyrtan. Hyrtan’s mount sees it, flying up in a quick burst. The blade of light cleanly cuts through one of the bird’s legs, severing the foot. The foot falls, but the bird has no reaction. A strange goo begins to pour out from the wound. Hyrtan laughs.

“Do you like my creation? You have no chance. Focus on me and my men will overrun you.” Rebello grits his teeth as he turns away from Hyrtan. However, Scima does not waver.

“Do you really think I’d let you run free?!”

“Boy, fight me and you’re the one who will get hurt. You and that princess of yours.”

A quick moving man with short, lime green hair runs past Scima, deeper into the group, towards where Eva stands. Scima dashes back and takes a swing at the man. His blade slams into the man’s bandaged arm. They clash like two blades pressed together. The man stops and looks at Scima, a crazed look in his eyes and a disturbed smile on his face.

“Hee hee. So you’re a swordsman too? I’m a swordsman. Come. Come! Let’s fight.”

The man starts ripping at the bandages covering his arms. The bandages are tough, hard for him to tear through with his hands. Warily, Scima takes a step back. The bandages are torn away bit by bit, revealing what lies beneath. Rather than skin, however, it is a carapace. When enough of the bandages have been torn, the rest become unwound and fall off of his arms. His arms bulge out, long blades taking the place of his hands. The man again smiles at Scima.

“Hee hee. My name is Snithan! Come! Let us do battle! Come!”

With his bladed hands, Snithan strikes out at Scima. Scima parries the blow, pushing Snithan’s arms into the air. With a flick of the wrist, Scima slashes, slamming the edge of his blade into Snithan’s arm. However, he cannot pierce the tough carapace. Snithan still smiles widely, his eyes still disturbed.

“Hee hee. You’ll have to be stronger than that to beat me, weakling.” Scima smiles wildly himself.

“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure you bleed to death painfully!”

Scima then hears a hearty laugh behind him. He quickly flashes with bright light and turns himself just enough to glance back. A large man with long, jagged black hair and a bandage over his mouth stands there, slowly approaching Eva.

“My master’s will shall be done! Surrender yourself to me, fake princess of Dracabana!”

The man begins to tear at his bandages. Scima dashes back towards Eva. As the bandages fall, the lower half of the man’s face is revealed. Rather than a mouth and nose, he has the long snout of a dog or wolf. He opens his mouth and fire bursts out. Scima, too far to do anything to the fire, prepares to grab Eva and pull her down to safety, his body the shield. However, before he can, a wall of vines shoots out of the dirt, blocking the flames. Though they burn away quickly, no fire got past it. Scima sticks close to Eva once he’s reached her, vigilantly looking between the two attackers. Snithan approaches, berating the other man.

“Hund, don’t get in my way! This is my duel! Mine! Go die!”

“Silence, Snithan. Our petty squabbles have no bearing on what must be done.”

“Shut up!”

Snithan jumps towards Hund, blades at the ready. Hund locks eyes with him, his cheeks puffing out as his maw fills with flame. However, before anything can happen, a clear, tranquil voice rings out. Standing there now, unseen until this moment, is a beautiful young man with silver hair and bandages over his eyes.

“Snithan, Hund, save such fights for Hyrtan’s experiments.” Hund rebukes him.

“Hasu, show Master Hyrtan the due respect.”

“He hasn’t asked it of us. Doing so is just pageantry, and what does appearance matter to a man like me?”

“Don’t be crass, Hasu.”

“I’m not. And on that note, now that we have gathered, we should have no more issues. Let’s finish this quickly so I can return to resting.” Scima faces the three of them, Eva behind him.

“Hah! You think it’ll be that easy?! I’ll crush all three of you beneath my heel if I have to! Just give up now, let me hack you apart, and save us all a bit of trouble!” Hasu answers him.

“Don’t worry yourself, putting somebody like you back in his place is no trouble at all.”

“Back in my place? What a joke. Don’t worry, I’m already right where I’m supposed to be.” Hasu smirks, then gently tugs the bandages from his eyes.

“Do you truly believe so? Then perhaps I should let you see the truth.”

Hasu shoots a glare at Scima with his hazy gray eyes. Scima feels a chill run up his spine. His vision darkens. When he can see once more, though Hasu, Snithan, and Hund are still before him, he is not in the field near the spire any longer. The sun has set and a clouded night sky has taken hold, though it were clear when last he checked. Buildings surround him, their dense structure and the magic clinging to them obscuring any criminals, hiding away the darkness so that the small force of the military has little it can do against them. He stands in the slums of Clea, but his enemies are still before him.

“You think this changes anything? Whether it’s in my hometown or some random field, a battlefield is a battlefield. The only thing this changes is how it’ll feel when I break you against the pavement.”