Love and Duty

“Awaken”. The strange voice beckoned him back to the land of the living, and he was risen.

The stars seemed ever so distant, and the tall walls that reached up, almost to grasp the eternity but could not quite touch it. The cold midnight air shook him back to his senses and up from his prone state. But there was weight in his arm that perturbed him. He pulled it close, and the blade lashed past his skin just far enough away to avoid a cut. It startled him, and he let go, watching it drop to the ground.

But a moment of calm later, enough time to allow him a chance to gather his thoughts, he took hold of it again. It was a strange thing. The blade was wider near the tip, and it was short, enough to be held in one hand. A pattern etched into the steel, spinning around uncontrollably, reaching to the razor's edge. It held a hue of the grass, and a crystalline handle in the shape of roots. At its pommel, the petals of the stellar flower, starlike yet set in gemstone.

“How did you get here?” He asked it. The question reminded him of his surroundings. The last he remembered, he faced a vine golem, surrounded by dirt and hedge. And yet, no monster was to be seen here. Instead there was a calming quiet. An open area with an oaken table large enough to feast an army, yet no seats taken. A top it was a red cloth, old fashioned yet still well kept. Silver plates and chalices took seat on it in uniformity. If he had gave it a second thought, it would look like a dinner for ghosts.

The hedges remained, but they did not move, and this place felt strangely safe. “How did I get here?” He pondered.

*-*-*

Tara and Kamau had successfully navigated the Kaminos and to the docked Iceglider, all without being spotted. They found that the small vessel was almost completely desolate. Only the Colossus stood watch, guarding the door to his unconscious liegè.

Kamau kept watch ahead of them as they crept aboard, but there was no sign of the sellsword. Cautiously they proceeded further, meticulously checking every corner and even this far, nothing…

The Iceglider was only slightly bigger than the Sparrowhawk, large enough to house a small guard unit and ship hands, but not much else. Kamau knew there was no way Oswyn would leave Coryn’s ship so lifeless. He may have lost the trials but a prince he still was, and he needed guards, he needed doctors and surgeons close by should his condition worsen. But it was as they cleared the last part of the deck that wasn’t occupied by the giant that Kamau began to feel dread, this emptiness that should not have been, continued on. Like a black, eerie tar had latched onto his back and slowly crept up his spine, he suspected evil things, and only one home for it.

All the ships of the fleet boasted sleeping quarters below deck, no matter the size. If Oswyn hadn’t called away the people aboard, and none were found on deck, it was in these quarters they would be found. But for some reason, Kamau did not want to find what lay in the dark.

He grasped the handle to the lower decks, pulling slowly, hoping his hesitance was to lessen the sound so no one would notice… but the smell alone proved his horrible hunch correct.

The stairs down were spotless, a complete contrast to the blackened blood soaked mangled form of uncountable corpses.

Tara felt the dread and tried to pass Kamau and see what lay ahead but he quickly held his arm out and stopped her, shaking his head to confirm her fear.

“Not a drop of blood.” Kamau commented. “Not a drop anywhere other than here… this wasn’t a fight, it was a slaughter. Cold and calculated.”

Tara panicked, “Coryn’s not down there, is he?”

The swordsman took another sickened glance, and could give her a slight bit of relief as he shook his head. It was likely that the prince lay beyond the door blocked by his behemoth. Still the lingering dread remained as one stowaway was still unaccounted for, and that was the assassin himself.

Ever since they stepped foot upon the ship, silence controlled all. The smell of fresh wounds, and the feel of bloodlust caught on the air… and the sound of the giant’s roar as the Redblade ripped through his skin was deafening.

It was the bellow of carnage, the war cry of a rampaging Colossus. Kamau panicked, drawing his blade from his back and moving to cover Tara, “Redblade…” he uttered.

The beast had stood guard, and Brakkan decimated all others aboard. His attention had now turned to Okul. The legends had wronged him, a dark star in the night sky, hidden behind the glamour. He stalked silently, and plunged his sword deep into the giant’s back.

The two watched Okul squirm, trying in vain to reach across and grasp at the blade or the wielder, to relieve his pain, or enact his revenge, they were not certain. Redblade held firm and began to twist the steel. Blood welled and weeped out, staining the salted deck.

The monster did not die so easily, much to Brakkan’s dismay. It kept reaching out, failing. More and more he tried, he should have been slowly dying, yet, more power formed. This time Okul reached for the club laid beside the door, and down it swung, just slow enough for Brakkan to evade but powerful enough to shake the ship and punch a hole straight through to the watery abyss below.

Like a rampaging bull, he continued to swing, chasing shadows and leaving destruction in his wake. Still with a sword through his being, he kept swinging, kept moving. Brakkan believed the beast was slow and lumbering, he was mistaken. Crack came the heavy club and rip went the fabrics that caught under it and were ripped away. One swing went high and he thought he was quick enough to go beneath it, only for the blood streaming down his face to prove him wrong. The beast was no man, anyone else would have been convulsing where they stood by now. No, the Colossus was more than meat and muscle, and he seemed to be gaining pace and power. Each swing was faster, each was that much closer to helping Brakkan’s head divorce his body.

“How could this be happening?” Brakkan surely asked himself as he darted around the deck like a hummingbird. “Why isn’t it dead? How is it still moving?” All questions he focused on, stealing his mind from his surroundings.

The assassin was in trouble now though, he had nowhere to escape, backed into the wall. He saw an escape, tried slipping past but the club flung past, smashing through the wall beside him, blocking his last sanctuary. For what followed the lump of wrought iron and timber was the fist the size of a mountain. Okul’s barefoot stopped just shy of his own and all its power gathered into a final killing blow, a hit that would completely obliterate Brakkan. Tara and Kamau watched silently with baited breath in the shadows. Okul charged, howling into the night with his fist readied. Brakkan braced for the hit… but it never came.

Okul stopped so suddenly, silencing the chaos.

“What happened?” Tara asked Kamau, still shuddering from the exchange, but he had no explanation.

Redblade’s former shock and horror very quickly transformed into a cold confidence. He brashly stared at the now bloodshot eyes of the Colossus, not even bothering to finish his work, he didn’t have to. Blood pooled in Okul’s mouth and spilled out on the ground below. The wound on his back stopped bleeding, pulsing with black veins that stretched up his spine. Brakkan knew then and there it was over, he could see the confusion on the giant’s face. But Kamau’s gaze was drawn to the remaining sword at his side, slick with blackened blood, alongside a lighter coating of something foul. Indeed it was not the steel that killed the beast, it was the toxin.

“Poison…” Kamau gasped.

The Colossus dropped as if he was paralysed, frozen in form with the only part moving being the red from within. Brakkan had already moved on, his last target still clinging to life, he did not care. Redblade had killed an army before his fifteenth birthday, he knew the feel of a kill. Okul reached for the blade in his back but the toxins clamped down on him, making any movement of his no more than a suggestion, even the war cry from before was nought more than a mutt’s muzzled growl.

Brakkan had just one target left, and he lay comatose in the room ahead. Tara jumped out but was quickly pulled back behind their cover before she was seen, knowing who Brakkan intended to attack next.

“Let me go, Kamau!” She commanded, but he did not listen. “He’s going to kill Coryn!

“And if you jump out he’ll kill you!” He argued.

The door opened slowly, creaking eerily in the silence. Ahead was just one, a single bed with a figure below the covers. And an assassin with darkness in his eyes. Tara wrestled to free herself from Kamau, trying desperately but, would she make it. Up lifted the crimson blade in the darkness…

Down it fell onto the white sheets.

*-*-*

“We brought you here”. It was a childlike voice, disconnected and distant. Robin searched for the speaker but not a soul was around to claim it. But then he felt the gentlest touch on his hand. It was a small, round creature, glowing a bright white and featureless. At first sight he panicked and jolted away, up to his feet, knowing not to take anything in the trials at face value. The small creature, the size of a finger, reached out to him with its stubby arms, swaying in the breeze. More of them appeared, hidden behind the trees and in amongst the blades of grass, stumbling over each other. Robin couldn’t seriously fear them but still kept his distance, still telling himself to be wary.

“What are you?” Robin asked hesitantly.

“They’re pixies.” The same disconnected voice responded and caught him off guard.

“They? So, what are you?” He asked, staring into the sky, hoping to find a hidden host, but only stars greeted him.

“I am their protector… as are you now.”

A queer statement, Robin thought. “I don’t recall signing up for anything like that.” He responded, side stepping the tiny pixies that had approached.

“A king does not choose us, we choose a king.”

“Well, I’m flattered… but I’m not the only one looking for this thing.” He gestured to the blade in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll be the one holding it for much longer.”

“The owners of Azura and Stormcaller. They too scurry these walkways, but they are not chosen. They struggle as we speak.” It announced. But Robin was taken aback. He struggled, most definitely, but Arian and Aurelio were warriors, with legendary swords… were they really finding difficulties inside Greenhand’s garden?

“Before long they’ll find their way here.” Robin spoke, maybe more so to himself than the voice.

Before him formed vines that overlapped, leaving an oval opening, with spiders spinning silks from vine to vine fast as the wind. “See for yourself, Chosen one.”

Shapes formed in the webs and moved like a strange animation. He could see man versus monster, first Aurelio, then Arian.

The first born sliced through his targets without much effort. But the others, the ones parading themselves like a loved one were more difficult to cut down. His soldiers took little effort, his maids and servants less so. His own father appeared and fell without much hesitation but slowly he began to falter. Arian, and Robin and Coryn appeared and he carved them away, Robin could see a moment of hesitation for each. Then people he didn’t recognise, that clearly recognised him. They got close and Aurelio moved away, panic finally showing on his face.

More and more closed in and more and more his heart closed away, down, down, down, down, down, down. Each one falling, parading as a friend that he had felled, mad dogs that he had put out of their misery. It was a horror show for Aurelio to fight, pulling strings in his heart, playing his emotions like a harp. The more the waters cut down the more Aurelio slowed, it was eating at him, and he felt that more than anyone. Another formed behind him and he closed his eyes, swinging Azura with pace…

“My prince!”

The blade stopped short, touching the flesh but not piercing. It was the first time Robin had seen this expression on his eldest brother’s face… agony.

“Reina” he uttered, almost welling up as he spoke.

Time itself felt as if it stopped. Aurelio stared in disbelief. It was her, drained of the colour and replaced by green of the vine. Gone was her harsh demeanour, replaced with false tears and anguish. It should have been so easy to see through the fabricated feelings, and yet it wasn’t.

“Arian killed your father! And he will kill you for the throne, you know it’s true!” It cried in her voice.

“How do you…” he mumbled back.

“Leave it behind. Come with me, we can escape it all, the crown, the wars, the blood… and we can be free. Us and the child you gave me.”

Aurelio staggered back as it approached, speaking words she had spoken before. “I… I can’t leave it, my destiny”

“What is more important to you?! The crown, or us?!” It screamed. All of a sudden it vanished, almost being sucked down into the ground. But another formed behind him, small and crawling. Reaching out behind him. “F-father…” it cried.

Aurelio had never been so shaken before, pale and weak. He remembered that night. When he pulled her close and became a man. The warmth in the winter night. The worry of the battle in the morning, and also the absence of fear in those moments, just her, all he thought of was her.

He remembered the day she called out to him, the day Robin Skye was discovered, and the day after Vulcan’s death. In the corridors as he walked to the meeting with his brothers and Oswyn, she begged him to leave. Begged him to leave it all behind. Because to her, he was all that mattered. Him, and the son he would soon have.

Once again it tormented him, the form of a child he feared he would never see. Reaching out to him. “the…crown or… us…”. Love, or duty.

Without warning he sliced through the child sized monster and the forming mass that was the vined Penrose. He collapsed, pulling himself up to a knee and the blade in the ground. He steadied his breathing, holding his chest and calming his nerve.

“Nothing will stop me from taking my throne. Not even you.”

Arian’s foes were many, and each one he cut down split apart and formed two more. Sweat beaded down his forehead, and any respite was short lived. He ducked under the outstretching branch, but felt the brunt of the hit from the right side and gasped at the air that left his lungs. The storms gathered on him and burned away the branch, and his next swing took off its head. But once again it multiplied, faster this time, and all three reached out. He blocked two, the barbed branches only piercing cloth. But the third hit low, digging into his thigh and out the other side.

He let out a short pained shout, and cut the branch away. Anger became malicious madness and through gritted teeth he growled, “don’t fucking mess with me!” Stormcaller glowed brightly, and Arian’s eyes did as well. He reached out to them with the lightning blade, and instantly they split apart into a thousand pieces, small currents flashing between the bark.

All three were charcoal, and Arian dropped to one knee, feeling at his fresh wound and breathing heavily. Footsteps were never far in the maze, and he knew he had no time to recover. Struggling to his feet he continued forth, limping through the greenery.

But the wound would be far worse than he would realise. Robin saw it clearly with the webbed window… a small green vine began to move inside his body.

*-*-*

The webbed window split apart at the request of the voice. It was silent for a moment, as Robin tried to piece together what he was shown.

“Skye’s seed have held us for generations. Azura and Stormcaller have made their decision, but so have I. These marches are yours to command, Robin Skye.”

“Your decision?” He asked. Robin felt the pixies tapping his foot, crawling up his clothes and some slowly falling to the ground. Another slipped from his shoulder, and he caught it in his cupped hands, watching it wave at him. These creatures weren’t powerful, they could not control the vines and the hedges, no. The voice that spoke for them was a master of nature, like Greenhand himself. Shrouded in the miasma, slowly Robin pieced it together and wondered, “Who are you?”

“I am a shard of Alden’s soul. Broken by gods and reforged by heroes. I am the protector of the forests, the marshes and the valleys. Like Azura of the sea, and Stormcaller of the skies, I choose my King.”

“You’re…” Robin muttered, realising the truth and looking down to his hip. And indeed, the blade shone like the stars above.

“I am Glimmer, the blade of Nature.”