Meeting the culprits

The sea that spanned wide across in between the two, and only, large continents of the northern half was always busy; vessels of all kinds roamed the water at any given moment, all kinds of boats traveled from one shore to another, and the few islands in between were unable to be used as real resting spots.

The east coast of the continent in which the water kingdom lay had a few tiny islands that were grouped up along its side, most of them sparsely populated—most completely empty banks of gravel or sand. Therefore, once a ship set off to cross the ocean, its crew was forced to travel the entire length at once without stopping.

That fact eventually was exploited by groups of outliers and banished volk that grouped up on one of the larger islands to the east; no matter how large a vessel, there was no guarantee it would be spared from the attempt of looting its contents.

Avalon knew all of this already; it was a risk he took to arrive where he was now, lucky enough to avoid them. Yet, something that happened only recently, reports of the same group plundering the coast and sometimes advancing inland by river, got to him. Seeing them actually stand in front of him, in the midst of the land, was something he wouldn't have seen coming.

Midas was able to see it; a red light appeared on the wrist of the slim man that planted his feet on the spun cloth of their ride. The youth had to react—without second thought, his sun shard was activated. The boy was able to react to the invisible force that tugged onto his mana this time, pulling back at it in time as he blankly stared into the face of his foe.

Eventually, a piece of the road was launched at his enemy, the piece of dirt able to block the incoming fire that was launched by the enemy. Without both of them knowing, Gunvar's blade spun in the air again, heading right for the enemy's head—the water that covered its blade rendering any attempt to block it with fire useless.

Dashing forward instead, his enemy jumped down from the carriage to clash his blade with the boy, the blade of his dagger rugged and used—yet not as old as the iron of Midas's sickle. His glare was matched by the youths widened eyes, staring up at him as he leaned against the force of the short blade. A grin eventually formed on the enemy, listening to the clash of blades that sounded through the foggy forest.

Unable to press the boy away from him, he used his free left hand to activate his bracelet, ignoring the red light that radiated from the foreign tool his enemy used; Midas prepared himself as well, restricting his thinking to only what was necessary to not lose the fight. Forcibly crouching down to avoid another blast—before being pushed down onto one of his knees by the force his enemy applied with his dagger, upon which he let go immediately—using Midas force against him, as the youth was unable to react to the quick slashes of his enemy.

Able to only shield his vitals with his right arm, Midas endured the many cuts that pierced his skin, his enemy unable to dig deeper into him as he saw Avalon approach. Looking up at him as he kicked Midas away to the side, watching him tumble as the rusty metal fell onto the muddy ground.

The details that were brought to him before he stepped foot onto the large vessel that transported Avalon onto this continent matched perfectly with what he saw: the arrogant stance, excessive silver jewelry, aged weaponry, and cloth striped in orange and white—pirates, who somehow ended up here, pillaging anyone that crossed this path.

As his one-handed sword pressed down onto the dagger of his opponent, Avalon mapped out the region in his head—the coast was at least a footwalk that would need around 3 days to complete, away from the forest. Too far to risk anyone seeing them transport their stolen goods back to their ship. The river was the only viable option, their boat probably parked near the waterfall they passed by.

A red glow eventually shook Avalon out of his thoughts, the left palm of the enemy opening as his bracelet activated for another time—most likely loot they were able to steal from either an unknowing elite or, more likely, a transporter that passed through the region to deliver it to its rightful owner.

Letting him cast the fire out of his hand, Avalon eventually placed his palm right onto his enemy's, the warmth disappearing without any trace, as his opponent loosened his grip on the dagger in confusion. The time it took his enemy to realize what happened was used by Avalon to win the upper hand, pushing him with the force of both of his hands away, following with a slash to the enemy's chest as enough space was made in between them.

The two smaller knights were busy defending the still unconfirmed number of enemies that encircled them, clashing blades with one, as the second rammed his sword into the hip of the pirate his comrade crossed blades with. Swinging his blade to meet another, as it retrieved from the flesh of the fallen enemy, the other followed his defense up by cutting into the throat of the last pirate that challenged them both.

Gunvar easily dispatched whoever crossed his path, already surrounded by bloodstained bodies, as he leaped to take down another—the scream of the grunt that headed for Midas shrill as it sounded through the rain. Slowly getting up from the body, as he retrieved the water-cast blade from the dead pirate, Gunvar silently watched the boy as he struggled to get up to his feet again.

Midas's wide eyes eventually snapped to Gunvar as half of his face was covered by mud, pressing down onto the squishy soil to make it to his feet—unable to accept that the cuts prevented him from moving his body upwards. Through the thick fog, he saw the tall knight look down at him, his dark silhouette eventually joined by another tinier one that sprinted towards him.

Noticing the piercing stare of the struggling youth as he quietly extended his bandaged arm out to him, Gunvar turned, the fog and the rain somewhat suffocating, allowing the enemy to hide and strike from it—something he didn't plan for, his sword unable to cut through the enemy in time, his arm not fast enough to strike as the enemy dagger already pierced under his chest plate.

Surprised, Gunvar was only able to stare at the attacker, seeing as another made his way through the fog to reach him. Yet, his eyes were drawn to the struck-down youth as an orange flash escaped the bandaged hand that reached for him.

What seemed to be an almost instant outburst of stone spikes extending high out of the ground, Gunvar was forced to watch as the assassins limbs in front of him were pierced through by the stone mass that shot up from the muddy ground; the youth he had never seen before had protected him—unable to speak, he took some steps away, holding his wound as he watched the pierced-up bodies.

The expansion of stone easily grabbed Avalon's attention, making him turn away from his opponent as he heard the mass of stone extend from the ground; the boys range seemingly almost doubled now compared to what he was able to do the last time.

Using the chance, his enemy made use of his bracelet, shooting up a flare into the rainy sky, which eventually combusted into steam that expanded downwards—allowing him to quickly make an escape. The hot air that howled into Avalon's neck made him turn back again, only met by a thick grey that covered his vision. His enemy was ultimately able to escape, the bracelet he stole still on him.

Midas wasn't able to do it this time; his mana storage grew somewhat, the feeling of it flowing through him as well—yet, he still was unable to control the consumption of it. He was forced to watch as his body numbly fell into the mud, barely missing out on Gunvar, as the stone expanded upwards to reach his enemies.

Midas needed to find a reason as to why he was unable to control his output this time; was it because he lacked composure? He barely knew Gunvar; the only real information he had about him was the fact he was a friend of Avalon. Without getting the chance to think further, he watched as Avalon picked him up from the mud. Lumping back into the carriage, he dragged his feet into the ride as Avalon began to sit down next to him.

With a sunken head, Midas was able to only listen as the two of them spoke, their words foreign, muddied by the sound of rain hitting onto the ground and cloth that was spun atop him. The quick discharge of mana almost completely paralyzed his muscles, only looking up as he picked up Avalon's voice calling him.