The Brightest Shadow, page 26
- excerpt from the Tale of the Red Warrior, a popular Nelhae story
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Normally, Kolanin would have spoken first. Asked what was happening, tried to make peace. After what he had just seen, he had no words.
The man in white turned to him with an imperious gaze, an instant before Kolanin's first strike hit his wrist. It successfully sent the sword falling to the ground, and he followed with a strike to the chest. Yet the man in white slid backward with surprising speed. Kolanin didn't give him any time to recover, following with another strike, then a sweeping kick at his legs.
Though he had moved like a butcher before, now the man in white flipped backward gracefully. He landed beside his sword, which had fallen with the blade in the earth, and snapped it up into his hands. This time when Kolanin lunged for him, the shimmering blade came straight at his head.
Kolanin dodged back just before the swing connected. It took that abrupt movement to make him hesitate. If he couldn't end this fight quickly, then attacking directly into the crowd of humans was simply reckless. They were all stunned now, just beginning to move, but soon they would recover and he would face difficult odds.
His eyes quickly scanned the group before returning to the man in white. There was a man gathering sein nearby and a woman who already had her sword in hand - they would be dangerous. It was difficult to judge the crowd of Coran warriors, but he couldn't discount some of them. Further back he saw Slaten, Eraes, and Tani. Somehow he wasn't surprised, though he was glad to see that their expressions held horror at what they had seen.
The two strongest humans began to advance, shifting to attack him from both sides. If he had spoken first, would they have listened? Had he made things worse by attacking immediately?
There was no time for such thoughts, because he had three warriors moving to surround him. Kolanin leapt out of range, skidding back through the dust in the center of the village. But he'd barely landed when the woman was coming after him, sword thrusting for his chest.
An obvious strike, designed to move him instead of actually killing him. Kolanin dodged, and as expected the man was there to intercept him. He still wasn't using a weapon, instead stabbing out with sein focused in two fingers. The first attack was easy to sweep aside, but a second and third thrust followed and Kolanin had more difficulty deflecting those.
Again from behind. Kolanin whirled, his hands flying in both directions. He swept aside the woman's sword strike with his sleeve and nearly caught the man's arm, but wasn't quite fast enough. They both shifted to a safe distance... because the man in white was coming directly for him.
"You die today, Deathspawn!" The man in white raised his sword and Kolanin struggled to focus on it. The technique seemed simple: concentrating sein in the blade to make it more lethal. And yet instead of the skill he found himself struck by the brilliance of it, shining in the light.
"Like you killed that woman?"
"She was a soldier in this war, same as either of us!" The man in white began to advance, his face shifting to a peaceful smile. "Now, surround him. He's too strong for fairness or mercy."
There was no point talking - the longer he spoke, the more they would surround him. If the three of them were able to attack from three different positions, it would be impossible to defend himself. The village didn't offer many opportunities for strategic positioning, but-
He felt the rush of sein a moment before the humans did, then suddenly Rhuvab loomed beside the woman, maul already swinging at her. She recognized in time, raising her sword with her other hand bracing the blade, but when it hit her full on, she was sent flying backwards into the air. Rhuvab roared and rushed after her.
The man wasn't stupid enough to watch, immediately defending himself when Hakkiv attempted to strike him from behind. He ducked underneath the blow, jabbed his fingers into Hakkiv's chest... and had no choice but to dodge backward as his sein strikes failed to penetrate the Catai's defenses.
More of Kolanin's troops were arriving, turning the fight from three on one to utter chaos. Villagers ran screaming and smaller fights broke out all around them, yet the human in white ignored all of it, just staring at him with that same smile on his face.
"Then it's you and me, Deathspawn. Face me and die!"
With that, the sword came at him again, glittering strike after glittering strike. Kolanin was very experienced fighting against armed opponents, yet found himself forced to retreat with each step in order to defend himself. It was like the human in white was coming at him not with strength or skill, but wielding a raw force that denied both.
Kolanin hadn't received any injuries, but his hands stung from each deflection of the blade. Yet he was starting to see through the light, just a little. As fierce as the assault seemed, it was still composed of comprehensible movements. Mostly thrusts, with the occasional dramatic slash. The human in white telegraphed each slash, he just needed to move quickly enough to take advantage...
Except there were two more humans rushing at him from behind. Slow to his eyes, yet not so slow that they could be ignored. Kolanin stepped aside from the first wild thrust, caught the man's arm, and sent him tumbling into the other attacker so that they sprawled in the street.
The brilliant sword was coming straight for his head.
He felt it cut through his cheek as he threw himself aside. Ignoring the blood starting to run down his face, Kolanin prepared to strike back, but the human in white retreated. Giving the others time to get to their feet and surround him again.
Did he think that would work? These two men were trained in sein, but they were nothing like the first two warriors. Kolanin wiped the blood off his face, running his finger over the cut and rearranging his sein. The cut remained, but the bleeding slowed to a halt.
Then, without warning, he lunged at one of the other fighters. The man was still staring where he had been an instant before when Kolanin grasped his collar and hurled him to the ground, sending dust spraying in all directions. That ought to dissuade him, if it didn't take him out of the fight altogether.
Yet the human struggled to get up, snarling at him. He attacked not like a warrior, but like an animal, as if he was dedicated to nothing but killing. Kolanin stared down in surprise, unable to take his eyes away even though he knew the other warrior was rushing at him and the human in white was getting ready to strike at any opening.
Kolanin kicked the man on the ground away, then lunged at the second. He pulled his strike, intentionally doing little more than staggering the man. What mattered was that he got a firm grip on the man's tunic, while he watched the human in white charge at him from behind.
Whirling, Kolanin put the other man's body in between them, preparing to strike with his free hand when the human in white pulled back.
Yet he didn't, driving his sword straight through the other human's chest and slicing against Kolanin's arm.
Dropping the body, Kolanin leapt back, holding his forearm. The sword thrust hadn't been strong enough to cause a serious injury, but his arm was bleeding. He slowed the flow but couldn't do so fully, given how much he'd need to use his arm.
He couldn't afford to be merciful. When the other human got to his feet and charged at him again, Kolanin knocked his blade aside and slammed an elbow into his wind pipe with fatal force. The man dropped, clutching his throat, but Kolanin was already moving away, focusing on the human in white.
The hero in white didn't seem to notice the fact that his allies were dead, continuing the same shimmering assault. Kolanin managed to deflect the blows without giving ground this time, his reactions growing more certain. His opponent should be realizing that he was losing the advantage, should be changing his strategy or moving more cautiously.
And yet the Hero in white just kept smiling.
Kolanin let out a roar and charged at him, knocking aside his sword and then striking him with an elbow. Yet the Hero in white managed to strike back, his sword grazing Kolanin's side. Crying out in rage, Kolanin grabbed the Hero's head and smashed it into the side of the nearest building. He saw the Hero's head bleed, yet the human was still holding his sword, still getting ready to strike.
One leap took him to a safe distance, which unfortunately gave the Hero time to shake off the blow to the head and come at him again. Kolanin began gathering sein in one palm, preparing for a more powerful strike that was sure to defeat the Hero...
No.
Instead of preparing an attack, Kolanin moved his palm to cover his face, flooding himself with his own sein. Not in refined form, just a rush of sensations and memories. He focused not on the human in front of him, but on all the humans who had worked together with him. Even though his opponent was approaching him, Kolanin closed his eyes.
Something was wrong. He considered if there was some kind of sein assault on his mind, but dismissed the thought. It was more subtle than that, deeper than he could understand. But the person he had been in the last few moments was not him. Setting aside all other thoughts, he cleared his mind and focused on the essence of himself.
Kolanin opened his eyes, looking through his fingers at the man in white. Just a man wearing white.
The sword flashed down at him. Kolanin deflected it with his left hand while slamming his right into his opponent's chest, sending him staggering back. His opponent swung overhead wildly and Kolanin turned the slash aside with two fingers, this time slamming a palm into the man's neck.
Another sword strike, this time too wide. Kolanin struck his opponent's arm with his elbow, the force carrying through with a loud crack. The sword fell from the man's fingers and before it could hit the ground Kolanin rained down blows on the man's body, ending with slamming him into the ground.
When the flurry of movements ended, Kolanin staggered back. The man in white lay motionless, the dirt underneath him broken. Kolanin rubbed his face, trying to refocus. His opponent hadn't felt particularly durable, so each blow had dealt a serious injury. Given how many had struck him, the man must be nearly dead. It occurred to Kolanin that it would be better to interrogate the man, find out-
The man in white was on his feet, thrusting again. Kolanin turned, but he was too late. Pain shot through his body as the sword pierced his shoulder and went through. He let out a cry of pain.
He also thrust his other hand up, breaking the man in white's wrist.
Without hesitating again, Kolanin grabbed the stunned man and threw him onto his back. This time he stepped over him, making sure he wouldn't get up again. The human looked completely beaten, but he had looked like that before.
Kolanin raised his good arm, palm down over his opponent's chest. Whatever had made his opponent get back to his feet when he should be dead, it was no sein technique. He was animated by something far more terrible, and it could not be met by skill alone.
So Kolanin drew his sein into his arm not in a polished technique, but in one he had never fully mastered. Not because of the difficulty, but because it could only kill. The memory of the butchered woman, sorrow as peace fell apart, the clarity he had gained in combat... Kolanin poured everything he felt into his palm and then brought it down on his opponent's heart in one strike.
The man in white stopped. His heart no longer pumped and his sein ceased to flow. Though his eyes remained open and unnaturally white, they saw nothing.
Kolanin stayed over him, checking if he would rise again, but there was no sign of it. He straightened his back and took a step back. Only then did he feel the pain from the sword that was still embedded in his shoulder. His training of his body might have prevented the worst of the damage, but the steel through his muscles was painful and partially disabling.
Grimacing, Kolanin pulled the sword out of his shoulder. His blood smeared the blade and it tumbled into the dust, quickly becoming filthy. After moving so quickly before, he struggled to raise his hand up to his shoulder and stop the worst of the bleeding.
Someone stood nearby. He looked up, prepared to defend himself, but saw that it was Tani. She was holding a knife with blood on the edge, yet it didn't seem that she would attack.
"Kolanin... I..."
"Please, just stay there." He needed to think, but a headache was forming as the sun beat down upon them. What he wanted was to move Tani to a safe location, ask her what had happened...
Without warning, a woman shot out of the nearby house. Kolanin saw her and could have reacted in time, but when he reached out with his injured arm the pain made him flinch. That delayed him long enough - the woman grabbed Tani around the shoulders and pulled her backward, physically dragging her away at surprising speed.
He should have gone after them, but his body felt so heavy. The most he could do was raise his eyes and see what had come of the battle. There wasn't much fighting, now. Several villagers lay dead nearby and he wondered which side had killed them.
Rhuvab stomped up beside him, bleeding from a few wounds but unimpeded. "We got most of the scum, but several of them ran away. They got into the grasses and I didn't want to chase them while the battle was going on. What do we do now?"
"Hunt them down." Kolanin was surprised to hear such words from his own lips. Rhuvab grinned and moved off as Kolanin struggled to say more. "Don't kill them... we need to talk... to interrogate them..."
The Catai was already rushing away, without any indication that he had heard. All Kolanin felt was overwhelmingly tired.
His body ached and his wounds were starting to bleed again, but he would live. If he went to find Iralin or another healer, he would recover without permanent injury. His life had included more brutal battles than this, and he had pushed himself harder before.
But he had never felt so tired, so old. Kolanin sat down in the middle of the nameless village and just stared at the clouds drifting overhead.
Chapter 18
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"The Fifth Wind stood before the four, and so deep was his mastery of sein that he refused to fall even in the face of their combined fury. Yet after one thousand techniques had passed, the Fifth Wind stepped back. He proclaimed that it was such a joy to see such mastery that he need fight no more. The five masters paid respects to one another, then the Fifth Wind passed to the north and was not heard from again."
- excerpt from a traditional Telnaa story
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As the sun disappeared over the horizon, Slaten sat and tried to remember the dead.
Not to memorialize them, simply to remember. Many of the men traveling with them had been Corans who viewed him with suspicion, so their faces ran together in his mind. But the truth was that many of them had been stronger and better trained than him, and now most of them lay dead.
He had meant to try to find Kolanin and explain what had happened, yet in the chaos he'd been pulled along with the others. And while they'd been fleeing, he'd seen two men cut down by a Catai warrior pursuing them. It seemed after everything had gone wrong, they were ordered to kill. He still hoped that if he met Kolanin he could talk things out, but it didn't sound like it would be easy.
Instead Slaten sat in the darkness, alongside a circle of survivors surrounding no fire, only starlight to illuminate them. Just fourteen of them had survived, and one of the Corans was bleeding out. Including himself, he knew eight of them, the others all grim men who refused to talk now that the Hero was dead.
That was what kept them from speaking. It was almost a miracle that they'd managed to gather together and escape the pursuit at all. Perhaps this was just the shadow of the light that had forced them all to follow. Without the Hero, Slaten felt like he could think more clearly, yet the weight on his mind remained heavy.
Tani and Celivia sat near him, saying little. They had argued once earlier about the best way to survive, then said nothing. Not far away, Melal sobbed quietly and Napenel sat with his arms and legs limp like he was a fallen puppet. Laeri huddled against herself, shapeless in her robes. Veron sat alone, methodically drinking every alcoholic beverage she had on her and throwing the containers into the grass.
Eraes and Efeinas were nowhere to be seen. Just when Slaten started to become concerned, the two of them walked in from the side. He didn't see any concern on Eraes' face, just focus. Efeinas glanced over everyone and sighed.
"Are you really all going to sit in the dark? We need to avoid attention, but we can do better than this." He ordered some of the Corans to help him dig a pit, then started a small fire inside.
Having a bit of light was better than the dark grasslands and everyone gathered around it. They still didn't speak. There was too much to be said, too many conflicting thoughts left over. The only sound was Veron gulping the last swallows from her jug. She belched, sighed, and threw the gourd away. Then she slowly got to her feet and walked up to the rest of them.
"Alright, the Hero is dead and nobody else is stepping up. We're probably all going to die."
Melal groaned when she announced that the Hero was dead and put his hands to the sides of his head. Tani frowned and sat forward, watching Veron closely. "Do you think we'd be allowed to live if we surrendered to Kolanin? Everyone... everyone knows that things weren't right. For them or us. I know they're hunting us down, but what if we scattered, made for Bundlin in small groups?"
"Wouldn't work. The chances of getting that far without getting caught are almost nothing, and if you're on your own, you'll get killed when they find you. Bigger group might fight them off, but probably can't move fast enough." Veron swayed on her feet, though her voice wasn't slurred despite how much she had drunk. "Nah, we're all fucked. Dammit, Goffoel, why'd you have to die like that?"
The name surprised him and Slaten found himself looking at Veron more carefully. Celivia also gave her a sharp look, but it was Efeinas who spoke up first. "Who the hell is Goffoel?"
"Oh, he was the Hero." Veron fumbled in her cloak for something to drink before realizing she'd emptied everything. "Stupid fucking name, isn't it? He got pissed whenever I called him that."
