Swordmaster

Era of Fate

Leandyr exhaled all the air from his lungs and allowed the sea to take him. The ebbing waves dragged his body out, while the flowing ones slammed him back against the cliff. The rough stone tore through his clothes and dug into the skin on his arms and legs. Another wave punched his head against the rock, doubling his vision.

Just as he suspected, not nearly enough to kill him. But he was a cape, built by the gods to take a beating.

Leandyr used the rough stone to pull himself deeper, below the seething surface of the sea. The peace he found below was striking in comparison to the watery fist that pounded the cliff. Salt water stung his wounds, and surely some predators had sniffed his blood in the water.

He kicked away from the cliff, gliding through the inky water with sure, easy strokes. There was no knowing which way he was headed, but the tide would wash him up somewhere. Eventually. Probably as a corpse. The currents were tugging at him like the greedy hands of starving youngling, and he got the fleeting temptation to throw himself at the mercy of the Serpents Straight.

To let it tear him asunder, consume him. End him.

Leandyr was too stubborn to give in to those whims. He wanted death to chase him, not fling himself into its arms. As a deep burn settled in his chest, he angled his body upward and swam to the surface.

When the cool night air hit his face, he took several greedy gulps before a rogue wave slapped him back beneath the surface. He couldn't tell his ear from his rear as he was tossed around like a salad.

Something caught his leg, and before he could react, he was dragged through the water at a speed he didn't know was possible. His heart jumped into his throat while his stomach found a new home in his foot. For the second time that night, Leandyr regretted not bringing a weapon.

Ah, so this is how I die.

A fitting end for a mischievous wretch such as himself, to be dinner for some crazed sea beast. Would it devour him in one bite, or savour him one limb at a time? Or maybe it would play with him first like a shiny new toy.

He was so caught up in his morbid musings that he didn't realize he'd stopped moving. The beasts grip was still tight on his leg and appeared as unmoving, shadowy figure before him. He reached down and pried at the rope-like bond, but its iron grip would not give.

His world turned upside down as he was yanked above the surface by his caught leg. He coughed up a lungful of water and blinked a few times. From his vantage point all he could see was black water, and blood rushed to his head as he fought for equilibrium.

"Oh, good gods, Enduwir, put him down!" someone yelled.

Before his mind could register the voice, his leg was released, and with a yelp, he plunged head-first back into the water. His arms touched the course sand of the seabed, stinging his open cuts. Not dinner after all.

Leandyr pushed himself to the surface and found he was able to stand, head and shoulders, above the water. He shook out his hair and brushed the wanton tendrils from his face.

"Gently, Enduwir!" the voice came again. A woman stood on the shore, which was alight with the glow of luminescent scales in varying shades red. She held a lantern aloft in a gloved hand, the circle of light illuminating her olive skin and tresses that were darker the water he'd swam through.

An animalistic sound filled the night air, a mixture of a horse's nicker and the growl of a dog. That prompted Leandyr to inch away from the serpentine sea beast still looming over him. While it was too dark to make out anything definitive, its shadowy form stretching higher than Castle Abydon was terrifying enough.

He waded towards the shore, all the while keeping his eyes on the creature. The magic wafting from its body tingled over his skin like an army of marching ants. The glowing scales crunched under his boots as he finally hit land. He frowned down at them, his brows drawing tight. Just how far had the beast dragged him, he wondered.

"I'm so sorry, did he hurt you?" the woman asked, as she took in his sorry state. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. She took a step back like a startled animal preparing to run. "Swordmaster?"

Leandyr squinted. Not many people outside of Abydon knew his title, but as he studied her face, realization hit him like a punch to the gut. That short stature, those doe-like eyes... His jaw fell and words nearly failed him. "Lady Ayzel?"

Am I dead...? Surely that monster was some sort of beastly angel of death that had guided him to the other side.

For a moment they stood in silence, staring at each other.

Ayzel was the first to regain her composure. "I... uhm... you're hurt. Let me get some balm and bandages." And she took off down the shoreline, jogging towards a tower on its northern end – a tower Leandyr recognized.

So I'm in Sestar, he thought with a frown. Not dead, but just across the strait from home. When he'd embarked on this night of mischief-making, the last thing he'd expected was to run into an old friend. Much less one who was supposed to be dead.

Leandyr remembered her last visit to Abydon with the other members of the Hiroh clan. They'd sparred in the quadrangle at the castle and spoke on diplomatic relations within the region. Only a year after, Barish had received the news that the Hiroh clan had perished, though they'd never been given any details.

He took a seat in the sand further up the shore, giving his weary muscles some reprieve.

The animalistic sound from earlier rattled through his ears once more, and he glanced up at the beast with a grimace. A monolith... It had to be. They were at the top of the food chain in the realm of Magika.

It could probably rend him asunder with ease. Yet it bowed to the whims of a dainty mistress. Leandyr didn't know much about them beyond stories that gave him nightmares as a youngling. But never had he heard of one that didn't tear down Nations and immortals alike. He would have been intrigued if he wasn't so baffled.

And it was watching him. Although he couldn't make out its features, he could feel its eyes burning into his skull.

Ayzel returned in short order with a sack on one shoulder. A shoulder that bore no cape, even though he distinctly remembered her having one. "Alright, let's take care of you." From the sack she pulled a heavy wool blanket.

"It's fine," Leandyr said. "My blood will ruin it."

"I insist." And she threw the blanket around his shoulders before he could protest further. "It's the least I could do after Enduwir dragged you here."

Enduwir... So it even had a name. He laid eyes on the monolith before cutting them to its mistress. By the light of the lantern, she was pulling things from the sack – strips of clean white linen, balms and elixirs. Her wavy hair fell over her shoulder to curtain her face as she dipped a cloth in a jar of balm. She started with his hands, dabbing at the cuts and scrapes.

"It's been a long time," Leandyr said softly. The awkward tension in his tone made his own skin crawl. A million questions warred on his tongue, each one fighting to get pass his clenched teeth, but he held them back, not wanting to upset her. "How have you been?

Her brows drew in tight and her jaw clenched. She dabbed faster at his wounds, making quick work of cleaning them up. "Well enough. And yourself?"

Confused. Godsmacked. Curious. Damn it all, you're supposed to be dead.

"Quite fine, thank you," he replied, deadpan. Small talk had to be the most insufferably pointless thing in existence. He didn't care about the weather. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, and ask her what in damnation was going on. What she was doing in Sestar. Where the other Hirohs were.

Ayzel smoothed healing balm on his cuts, her touch a gentle whisper against his skin. "I hope Enduwir didn't pull you from anything important."

He shook his head. "I was simply... out for a swim."

Her eyebrows shot up. "In the Serpent's Strait? At this hour? That's quite brave."

Or quite stupid. He gave a shrug, and she wrapped up his wounds, covering the swirling mark on his right hand that denoted him as a cape. "And you're out here... combing the shore?"

Ayzel tore the linen and tied it off neatly. "Actually, I was looking for the source of those." She nodded at the glowing red scales that lined the shore. "They've been washing up every other night for the last few weeks."

"I see." He winced as she tore away the raggedy legs of his pants. Inflamed gashes scarred his bronze skin like crimson canyons. He watched as she treated them with the same care as the cuts on his arms.

"I would heal you proper, but I'm all out of ether stones." She tilted her head to admire her handiwork.

Ether stones... Leandyr grimaced. Only magicians without capes used those. He looked down at her gloved hand, wondering if she was hiding her mark on purpose. He doubted she'd be inclined to tell him, so there was no point in entertaining her small talk any longer.

"Well, I should head back," Leandyr said, rising to his feet to stretch his stiff muscles. "But, if you'd like, I can bring you some ether stones tomorrow. 'Tis the least I can do to repay your kindness."

Another bout of silence stretched between them as her mein ran the emotional gamut. "I suppose that would be fine."

"Good. Thank you for your kind hospitality, Lady Hiroh." He bent his head in a mock bow.

Ayzel gave him a ghost of a smile. One that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Don't thank me. It's what Hirohs do."