378. Of pretences, realisations and a little hunt

Cassandra Pendragon 

Goosebumps had erupted along my arms and down my spine. In the dim, reddish light of the crackling fires the bodies of the two contestants were almost hazy, the long, flowing, grey robes they wore served as much to confuse the eye as to provide a sharp contrast to the dark, oaken walls. A smouldering log cracked quietly in the smokeless brazier behind me but the sound still travelled across the room like a gunshot accompanied by a fountain of sparks.

As if it had been a signal we held our breath and in the ensuing silence the tap tap of bare feet against cold hard wood was absurdly loud in my ears, loud enough to drown out the low groaning of the furnace beneath us and the creaking of the sails far above. Slowly, fluidly the two figures moved, bowing from the hip before they produced identical, curved swords from red tabards on their broad leather belts, red plumes dangling coquettishly from the hilts. A weightless, dancing step, the ringing, bell like clash of steel on steel, a shower of burning, blue sparks and the two men separated again, tiny notches on their blades the only trace of the violent strike they had exchanged. The afterimage of their descending swords was still vivid in my mind when…

"They're better than me," Arthur whispered into my ear, using our mother tongue. "Do you think you could hold your own against them?" I nodded absentmindedly, my eyes glued to the two fighters as they prepared for another exchange.

"In a battle? One or a thousand it wouldn't make a difference. In a competition like this? Not with swords. With spears, though… even without my powers I'm faster and stronger yet I'm the first to admit that my technique isn't perfect. It'd be interesting for sure. Chances are I'd have to overwhelm my opponent with sheer strength. Not the kind of display you'd be looking for."

"And what about Ahri? As far as I remember she always was the more… physical one of the two of you." I smiled proudly, even though I felt my ears twitch embarrassedly. The way he had phrased that had conjured up memories that had absolutely nothing to do with fighting. Or maybe they did, depending on the mood.

"They wouldn't have a prayer. If you don't believe me ask our brother. I don't even think she'd need a weapon to put them in the dirt." I felt him nod before he leaned back to watch the rest of the show but I couldn't yet do the same since Reia leaned in from my other side and breathed:

"Please, tell me I'll be able to move like this, too."

"That entirely depends on you. As far as I'm concerned all you need to learn is control. Over your mind and your body. At least to the same degree as them. If you want to forge it into something more that'll be your choice but it's just a question of dedication. I don't think learning how to wield a weapon to perfection is the best use of your time but I won't argue if you're determined."

"Didn't Ahri offer to teach me before?"

"She did, but I think you've got the wrong idea. The fans I gave you will teach you control if you want to master them. It's not really about learning how to fight. Just take me as an example. The first few years of my training consisted of Greta throwing burning things at me. Pointy as well, most of the time. Come to think of it, it surely was effective but I wouldn't want to subject you to the same treatment. You aren't as sturdy as me and I can't very well sell you off for a decent dowry, let's say an empire or two, if your pretty face becomes marred by a scar now, can I?" She pinched my side… not quite affectionately. 

"That's not…," she began to complain but was cut short by a hoarse scream. One of the fighters had lunged himself forward, his blade sparkling in an enchanting but deadly silhouette of serenity above his head before it descended in a wide, shimmering arch. The other lowered himself into a defensive stance, his face expressionless, his muscles taunt, ready to deflect the terrifying blow. 

"It's a feint you imbecile," I mumbled inaudibly, my gaze darting to the nimble feet of the attacker. Just as he pivoted on the spot to bring his weight to bear he switched his stance, the bone crushing force of his strike travelling through his body and into a veiled kick. The two blades collided beguilingly gently, with much less energy than his opponent had expected. His balance was already askew without the expected impact and he immediately staggered. At the very same moment his adversary's foot connected with his bend knee, the joint groaning and breaking on the spot. For the fraction of a second he remained rooted in place until he fell like a dead tree.

"Ouch," I commented quietly while I felt a faint tingling in my own leg as my heightened perception provided me with a detailed and slowed down rendition of a knee bending in the wrong direction. A heartbeat later a strangled moan filled the room and the heavy thud of a broken body hitting the floor resounded throughout the chamber. "Game over," I stated quietly. And a pity it was, the two of them really had been the best of the bunch. Watching them fight was more akin to a sensual dance, each movement controlled, each strike a perfect mixture of serenity and power. Until one had made a mistake. That was all it took. A single mistake.

The winner helped his sweating and pale partner to his feet and they both bowed, rather gracefully considering the poor state one of them was in. "Ah, thank you," our host, who incidentally wasn't named Jabba the Hut but rather Indigorath, exclaimed in the Common Tongue. "Masterfully done. Please, would you accompany Drakar to the infirmary? Ioreth will have him patched up in no time." The wood creaked underneath his massive coils as he slithered around to face us. "What do you think? Was it worth the delay," he asked magnanimously. 

As agreed upon I kept my mouth shut, allowing Richard to speak for us. Not that I minded in the slightest. It was a refreshing change of pace to not be involved directly even though I wouldn't have gone as far as claiming that I wasn't the centre of attention anymore. Admittedly, I hadn't spoken more than a few handful of words since we had arrived but the way the guards were ogling me constantly still ensured that I had to put my best foot forward. Which wouldn't have necessarily been a bad thing but the impressive and, more importantly, scrumptious buffet the slug had prepared in a corner of the chamber really put me to the test. I had never been a fan of the sophisticated, elegant and exceptionally tiny morsels nobles were supposed to nip on and the tender, succulent meats I could smell from a cross the room were a goddamn temptation. But, as I might have mentioned before, I wasn't a glutton so I managed to ignore the mouthwatering display. Barely and with a lot of effort. The stick bread I had taken off Layla helped, too.

Speaking of temptations, our host hadn't so much as raised a nonexistent eyebrow upon our arrival, entirely oblivious to the struggles of his soldiers when Aurelia, Viyara, Sera and I had descended from the sky. It would have been impressive, or maybe slightly insulting, if he hadn't been from an entirely alien species. The aesthetics of a slug were hardly comparable to humanoid standards and I imagined it was the same the other way around. To him we probably seemed as ugly as his bloated body appeared to us. Or maybe he simply didn't care. I wasn't even sure if slugs, or larvae, as I had found out he was, had a concept of beauty. As far as I had come to understand it they mostly categorised others by a pretty basic distinction. Can it eat me or can I eat it. Truth be told, I wasn't even sure if I preferred our more intricate ways of interaction. Sure, it could be fun, from time to time, but mostly it was just boring and slightly exhausting.

As to why I even knew that much about the esteemed Purple Worm, yes, that's what he was, he hadn't held back when he had introduced himself. As soon as we had touched down he had greeted us most respectfully, his men arrayed in neat rows behind him. Aside from the stereotypical my pleasure-s and it's my honour-s he had also told us a bit about himself, including his race. Which, in hindsight, also explained the Broken Wheel's agitation.

Purple Worms weren't worms per se and much more closely related to dragons than any other species. At least they had a carbuncle but in contrast to real dragons they didn't have a heart and they couldn't use their carbuncles to gather and manifest their powers. In a way it was a… battery, keeping them alive while leeching off some of their energies over decades, centuries, sometimes even millennia, until the power it contained reached a threshold. Afterwards they… pupated, turning into something else entirely. What would emerged form their chrysalis was anyone's guess but he hadn't told us and none of us knew. Hells, aside from Captain Nightshade and the Broken Wheel we hadn't even heard of Purple Worms before and that included me. At least I couldn't remember if I had ever stumbled across a similar species. Chances were I had, though. There was nothing new under the sun after all.

One more explanation before we get back on track. As you might have guessed their peculiarities made Purple Worms ravenous. They had to take in as much energy as possible, a biological imperative to fulfil the demands of their carbuncles. Consequentially they weren't very good neighbours. Their intrinsic hunger made them greedy, intemperate and, as far as I had come to understand it, they didn't particularly differentiate between a human, a fey, an elf, a dragon or a piece of cured ham. The more energy the meat they consumed contained the better, the strength of their prey the only thing that kept them at bay. They were opportunistic to a fault and would never try to chomp down on something they deemed not worth the trouble.

Now as to why the Broken Wheel had insisted on accompanying us: he knew them. He knew their race from the days Free Land had set out to eradicate them once and for all, driving the survivors into hiding, and he had seen them resurface again, capitalising on the rather dire circumstances the city had found itself in after Amon's attack. Not to mention that some of them were more than prepared to throw in with the Emperor. My enemy's enemy is my friend or some such nonsense. Not all of them were as blinded by the current situation though and Indigorath, second of his name, Ruler of the Deeps, Lord of Eidolons had tried to think with his head and not his stomach. His words, not mine. Which had brought him here, trying to gauge which side he should be on.

As you might imagine his straightforwardness had been a bit of surprise but he had shrugged it off with a simple explanation. One, there weren't that many of them left, six to be precise, and two it wasn't much of a secret. Ever since they had reappeared it had only been a question of time until someone, who had been around back then, would have recognised them for what they were. Case and point the Broken Wheel's intervention. He, Nightshade and Alassara, at the very least, would have been able to tell us as much without breaking a sweat and hence the god's insistence to come with. He wanted to make sure we wouldn't be played for fools. A daunting endeavour, in my humble opinion, since we were about as organised or prepared as a gaggle of geese.

"A stunning display of skill and persistence," Richard replied, every trace of his drawling accent gone. Ever since he had decided to step up and actively become involved in Free Land's future he had even exchanged his wardrobe. Gone were the stained, frayed trousers and shirts, replaced by a rather formal, entirely black attire. It even had a ducal insignia embroidered on the stiff collar. I was convinced there was another story there, the name "Black Duke" reverberating in my mind, but for now I was mainly glad that he didn't look like a tramp anymore. Hypocritical for sure, coming from me, but even I had changed into a fresh set of clothes, even though my mom's insistence that I should wear a dress had fallen upon deaf ears. There was only so much I was prepared to sacrifice for appearance's sake. "Graceful and intimidating," he continued while his gaze roamed over the silent, unmoving soldiers still present in the room while their comrades were limping towards the infirmary. "I do wonder if the latter has been your intention, though."

In an almost comical gesture the bloated worm open his mouth and eyes as widely as he possibly could, staring at Richard with a look of innocent surprise nobody bought. At least I didn't.

"My good man, I'd never," he replied and turned around, theatrically gesticulating towards Sera, my mom and me. "There's no point in having rabbits dance to intimidate wolfs, is there? I merely wanted to lighten the mood before we get down to the nitty gritty. But, if you're so insistent, I'm very much open to get to the bottom of my visit. I didn't wiggle my oversized body onto this ship for nothing, after all. Before we begin, though, I have to ask: whom am I supposed to flatter or bribe here to get my way? You? That seems hardly plausible considering there's a… make that two disguised dragons among us and," he inclined his head in my direction, "whatever that divine creature is supposed to be. Are you honestly speaking for everyone present?" 

Most people, famous for their prowess in bar fights, would probably have flown off the rocker at the slug's insinuated insults but Richard took the provocation in stride and simply smiled. Before he could utter his response, though, Mordred spoke up: "he's speaking for the city and that includes us, the dragons and my sister. By all means, though, if you'd rather petition or bargain with her you're very welcome to do so but I have to warn you, bribes and flattery won't get you very far with her."

"But they might work on the two of you," Indigorath asked, perking up. "Fabulous. Then let me make it simple. Why shouldn't I make an ally of someone who's dead set on creating chaos and mayhem, an environment where I and my brethren will inevitably strive? And if I don't… can you keep me and mine safe and what's it going to cost me to buy said protection?" He snapped his fingers and his guards waddled out of the room silently, leaving him apparently undefended in our midst. "As you can see I'm not here to play games. I've been forthcoming to the point of stupidity and I'd very much appreciate it if you retuned the favour." As determined as I was I couldn't quite keep my mouth shut:

"Really now? No games? Then why that first question? If you didn't have the answer you wouldn't be here in the first place." For the first time his plastered grin fell off and he focused on me with an almost disturbing intensity, a soft purple glow igniting in the depth of his yellow eyes.

"Guessing isn't the same as knowing, my Lady. Do I believe that our friend from across the waves will ultimately lose? Yes. But I just can't say for sure."

"So you want proof," I hissed. "And that's also what that display has been for, right? Setting the tune so that we'd feel more comfortable revealing what we can do? Well, let me save you the trouble." Nimbly I got to my feet and sashayed across the room while I wholeheartedly ignored Arthur's whispered warnings and my mom's rolling eyes. Indigorath's gaze didn't waver from me until I was no more than a handspan away from him. "You want to know what we can do, what I can do," I breathed, my voice cutting through the lingering silence like a hot knife through butter. "I'll show you." A bitter smile spread across my face when I added in even softer tones: "tell the truth, why are you running?" His face went slack, even his quivering coils came to rest as he replied monotonously:

"Without help I won't survive the year. I'm much closer to evolving than the others. My body could grant one, maybe even several, of them ascension. I need protection from my own kind and I need a place to hide until I can shed this burdening skin. I'm desperate and I took a chance."