From Darkness to Light and back again...(Fantasy)

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OK, time for an update, maybe? Please?

No really, take your time. I'm waiting patiently, and many with me, I suppose.

 

wow shura did you you ever consider getting this published? it would make a great book.

 

If you think that was good, read "The Legend of Shura". That's where it all began.

You have to adjust your settings to "show all topics" though. The last entry was on October 30 last year.

Have fun.

 

The castle’s battlements were deserted except for a single figure cloaked in darkness. The wind whipped Shura’s tattered black cloak about his form wildly. His growing fringe swept into his dark eyes and the swordsman raised a hand to brush it away. He had not maintained his cropped hairstyle since he left Blackmire’s service. His hair had grown considerably longer in the ensuing few weeks. The afternoon had been spent discussing tactics and logistical issues with Mikealus, Kervast and Kuroi. The mercenary army was to sally forth the very next day and take up defensive positions on the outlying lands of the Cypher Duchy. There, they would apply gradual attrition to the orcish hordes, relinquishing each position as they retreated slowly to the castle, all the while wearing away their numbers and stretching their supply lines. Once their supply lines were sufficiently stretched, Mikealus would lead a force to cut them off and flank their main fighting force. Kervast would lead the majority of his troops in a crushing attack once that happened.

The plan was good but Shura knew few plans ever survived the onset of the actual battle. He himself had helped Blackmire in the organization of many campaigns, most of them involving troops ten times the strength of Kervast’s force.

Soft footsteps on stone caught his attention and Shura turned his head to regard Elle, who stood a few strides behind him. For a moment, he marveled at his reaction. Just a few weeks ago, he would have drawn his blades and struck at any presence he felt trying to sneak up on him.

“ How is the Duke?” Shura inquired, eager to know the state of his current employer’s health.

“ He’s sleeping now. I have never seen him so worn out.” The battle-mage replied wearily. Shura could see the lines of worry on her face as she directed her gaze over the battlement railings. A moment of silence passed as Shura returned to his contemplations about the battle before Elle turned her head to regard him.

“ How did you meet Kuroi Itezeru, Shura?” She asked. Shura started in surprise at being jolted out of his thoughts.

“ I found him fishing at a pond. I scared away his fish, he got angry and beat me half to death.” Shura chuckled as he said those words, recalling the painful sting of Kuroi’s walking stick.

“ You have not known him for very long, then? The two of you behave so much like brothers.” Elle said. Shura shook his head in an amused manner at that statement. He was not comfortable with the battle-mage’s questions. His past was too bloodstained to reveal openly.

“ It is late, Elle. We have a great deal to do tomorrow. You had better get some rest soon.” The swordsman pulled his cloak about his body and started for the stairwell that would bring him to the interior of the castle.

“ Good night, Shura.” Shura thought he detected a slight tone of irritation and disappointment in her voice but he shrugged the thought out of his mind. He shut the door to the stairwell and made his way to his quarters.

The peasants of the Cypher Duchy began their evacuation the very next day, streaming into the citadel while the mercenary troops deployed themselves upon every defensible piece of terrain. Shura and Mikealus left the citadel to supervise and inspect the formation of the Duchy’s first line of defense. They rode from post to post and both could find no fault in the preparations done by Kervast’s troops, so professional were they. Meticulously crafted barricades of wooden stakes lined each temporary fortification. Steps of mud were carved to construct small platforms for archers to fire in consecutive volleys. Mikealus was left whistling under his breath in admiration as the mercenaries grinned smugly at him.

The two of them stopped to rest upon the completion of their inspection of the last makeshift fortress, a construction atop a small rise of land. Mikealus drank sparingly from his water-skin, and then passed it to Shura who shook his head. The young knight was lathered in sweat.

“ It is unnecessary to wear all that armor when we are merely inspecting these fortifications, Mikealus. Why don’t you remove it and stuff it into your saddlebags?”
Shura asked.

“ No matter, such a minor discomfort means nothing to me. A knight must be ever ready for battle.” Mikealus huffed, straightening his helmet, a battered thing that still showed evidence of painstaking care and polishing. It was evident that the young knight had seen much warfare and battle. Shura nodded, conceding the point. Nevertheless, he motioned for the knight to sit atop a mound beside a row of wooden stakes. Even a knight required rest, no matter how driven he was.

Mikealus propped his back against a huge rock and stared out into the line of trees that the fortification faced. His youthful face was lined with worry. Shura sat down beside him.

“ When do you think the orcs will arrive, mister Shura? I dread the suffering the peasants will experience once the fighting starts.” Mikealus asked.

“ By the ranger’s report, the savages should make contact with us within the next few days. Our scouts will give us due warning, so there is no need to worry about being caught unawares.” Shura cupped his chin speculatively as he answered.

“ Cursed beasts! The succession wars have just ended and the land is still recovering! Is there no peace to be found in this world at all?” Mikealus muttered, grasping the hilt of his sword tightly. “ Can no one lead a life untainted by the conflicts of the power hungry and murderous?”

“ What role would you play as a knight, then, Sir Mikealus, if the world is at peace?” Shura asked. “ I would have thought that one who chose a profession as a knight would be more war-like.”

“ I would never choose battle over any other method of resolving a conflict.” Mikealus responded, his voice firm with conviction. “ There has to be a better way than the path of blood and steel.”

“ And you, Shura? Do you enjoy battle so very much?” Shura took but a moment to consider the question, then nodded his head.

“ The battlefield is where I feel truly alive.” Mikealus nodded at his response, his face sad. He had seen too many individuals like Shura. In their quest for glory, they led the way with their bloodlust, heedless of the suffering that their actions caused. Such people were barely better than orcs, in Mikealus’s estimation, but Shura was an ally; and the young knight was wise enough to keep their relationship cordial.

A piercing scream rent the air, causing the heads of the both warriors to turn towards its origin. A family of three peasants burst from the forest line, closely pursued by a band of grunting orcs.

“ Orcs! What are the scouts doing?” Mikealus exclaimed. As he spoke, a lightly armored soldier sped by the peasants on a warhorse. He gestured to the soldiers in the fortification and turned his steed towards the citadel without slowing down.

“ They are out of bow range! Follow me! We must save them!” Mikealus shouted at the mercenaries. They looked at each other incredulously.

“ We are under orders to hold this position, sir. Peasants who were left out during the evacuation are of no concern to us. Please get behind the barricade, we will deal with them if they attack.” A soldier responded.

Mikealus’s face twisted with disbelief and outrage. Shura laid a hand on his armored shoulder.

“ Let us do as they say, Sir Mikealus. There are many days of battle ahead of us and we must conserve our strength.” The knight shrugged off Shura’s hand.

“ So be it. I shall not stand by and watch.” He leaped atop his warhorse and galloped off towards the orcs.

“ Mikealus! Wait!” Shura called after him, but the knight ignored his cries. Cursing, the swordsman got onto his horse and started after Mikealus.

“ Stand ready to repel an attack from your guarding arc.” He instructed the soldier.

“ It shall be done.” The mercenary nodded before turning around and shouting instructions to his comrades. Shura charged off in the same direction as Mikealus.

The orcs finally caught up with the peasant family, consisting of an elderly couple and an adolescent girl. A spiked club smashed in the skull of the old man and a jagged blade severed the spine of his elderly wife. An orc caught the girl by her hair and leered at her. The savage pulled back its axe to finish her off but paused as Mikealus’s battle cry rang out through the air.

“ BLEK-LANCE AU RADIANE!”

The sun glinted off his battered but shining armor as he plowed right into the orcs. Mikealus swung his sword, splitting the wooden haft of an orcs’s spear. The creature dropped its weapon and stumbled back but it’s fellows surged in to attack the knight. Amidst the chaos of the melee, an orc managed to hook the head of it’s spear through one of the greaves of Mikealus’s armor. With a single heave, the powerful savage dragged the knight off his horse. The fall blew the breath out of the knight’s lungs and he could only watch helplessly as another orc raised a club to finish him off.

A curved blade took off the orc’s raised arm and another rammed itself into the orc’s throat. The savage fell to the ground, gurgling blood through it’s ruined throat. A whirling form wreathed in black scythed through the ranks of the orcs. A few of them managed to raise their weapons before they were cut down by blows that cunningly bypassed their armor and parries. Shura hacked off another orc’s head and pulled Mikealus to his feet in the same motion. The knight immediately charged into the midst of the orcs again, directing his blows towards the orc holding the girl. The orc threw the peasant aside and parried the knight’s sword. Another orc swung his club at the knight’s unprotected flank but the blow was intercepted by Shura’s katana. The swordsman whipped his shorter blade across the orc’s throat and sliced down another.

Mikealus fought with unparalleled zeal as he directed flickering thrust after flickering thrust at the orc. The savage managed to parry another two blows before the knight’s sword slipped into it’s chest. Mikealus kicked aside the corpse and attacked another orc that was trying to attack Shura from behind. The orc caught a swing on it’s buckler and kicked out at the knight’s abdomen. The blow winded Mikealus and brought him to his knees. As the orc raised it’s curved blade over it’s head, Mikealus stabbed upwards with his sword, skewering the wretched thing. He shouldered the twitching corpse aside and took up a defensive position between the girl and the orcs.

“ Are you alright?” He asked. The girl was trembling and her face was streaked with tears but she seemed to be otherwise unharmed. Mikealus nodded and redirected his attentions to the battle. Another orc rushed at him with a spear but the knight batted the blow to his left with the pommel of his sword and hacked off the orc’s head.

Shura was wreaking utter havoc among the orcs, his flashing blades taking off limbs and heads with every swing and his lighting quick footsteps making the orcs turn their heads this way and that. Eventually, a few of them roared with frustration and swung their weapons wildly. They only succeeded in striking their fellow orcs as Shura slipped between their bulky forms with smooth, flowing motions. Mikealus charged in, hefting an orc’s spear and plunging it into the side of another orc. He struck at another orc and cut it down just as Shura decapitated three others and disemboweled another two with an attack routine so complex that it sent Mikealus into a blinking fit as he witnessed it. Before long, all the orcs lay dead at the feet of the two warriors. Mikealus was battered and panting heavily but Shura was not the least bit strained.

The knight helped the sobbing peasant girl onto his horse, all the while muttering soothing condolences as Shura examined the hacked bodies of the orcs.

“ By the Celestial Knight, I shall do everything in my power to prevent such a tragedy from happening again!” Mikealus clenched his fist and snarled under his breath as he approached Shura. The swordsman was silent. He ran a hand along the shoulder plate of an orc’s armor.

“ They wear forged armor customized especially for them! Who would arm these savages so well?” Shura gasped. He took up an orc’s jagged blade and studied its surface.

“ Even this sword had to be forged by a master smith! Now I understand why Elle and you were so worried. We are probably up against something more than marauding orcs.”

Mikealus hefted the blade and took a few practice swings. It was better balanced and keener than his family sword, a sad looking instrument that was notched and battered.

He nodded grimly and handed it back to Shura. “ We had best inform Kervast of this soon. Let us be off!”

Shura was about to agree when he paused. Mikealus looked at him questioningly but the swordsman raised a hand to silence him. The knight opened his mouth anyway but he choked on his words as Shura spun and hurled a dagger into the midst of the trees. Both heard the unmistakable sound of steel tearing into flesh and dashed towards its origin just as a scream of pain filled the air.

A human clad in black lay on the floor, writhing in agony as his fingers scrabbled at the dagger embedded in his throat. Mikealus’s gaped at the sight.

“ A deadly throw, Shura.” The knight congratulated him uneasily. The swordsman fell silent again and the Mikealus could not help noticing the pallor that had suddenly come over his face. Shura bent over to retrieve his dagger and the man looked upon his face. In the moment of lucidity before death, he croaked his last words.

“ You…are…Chief Instructor…Shura…” Shura wrenched the dagger sideways, almost severing the man’s head. A sidelong glance at the knight indicated that Mikealus had heard none of the man’s dying words. Trying not to look upon the curved sword strapped to the man’s hip, he turned and faced Mikealus.

“ Let us leave without delay.” The knight was quick to agree. Before long, the two were riding past the mercenary fortification and back to the Cypher citadel, with the peasant girl sobbing in the knight’s arms. Shura’s face was lined with worry throughout the return trip. The man had been a Ravager, a warrior trained personally by him and one that served Blackmire with fanatical zeal.


The duke, Elle and Aalariel took the news quite badly. The fact that the enemy was so close was bad enough. Yet they still had to deal with the idea that their foes were so well armed. Shura did not mention the human spy and Mikealus had little else to report other than his presence and his affiliation with the orcs. Kervast took the news in stride, though, rumbling that the best armed forces in the kingdom of Gryloas were no match for his mercenaries. The others could only take his word for it, as they had no other choice.

The peasant girl was extremely shaken and clung tightly to Mikealus’s side, directing looks of sheer terror to everyone else who tried to approach her, especially Shura. When the swordsman tried to question her on where the orcs were first sighted, she took a single gaze into his eyes and went into a screaming fit. Shura could only back off in frustration. It took a few hours for her to calm down sufficiently so that Elle could talk to her. The battle-mage studied the girl for a few moments. She was apparently of eastern origin too, having the same slanted eyes and complexion as Shura and Zheng Long. She laid a comforting hand on her mop of black hair. The girl shrank from her touch and clutched Mikealus’s gauntlet more tightly.

“ What is your name?” She asked. The peasant stared at her for a while.

“ H’siao Fen.” Came the soft and whimpering reply.

“ Well now, H’siao Fen, you’ll have to let go of poor Mikealus over there so that he can go and tend to his wounds.” The knight shook his head but the big-sister look that Elle gave him shut his mouth. “ Do that and I’ll bring you to where you can get a meal and a bath. Is that alright?”

H’siao Fen gazed into Elle’s eyes for a moment then nodded slowly. “ You shine with light, madam, just like the knight here. I think I will go with you.” She released her grip on Mikealus’s gauntlet. From across the room, Shura felt a slight tug on his scalp as the conversation took place. He rubbed his forehead bemusedly. Elle led H’siao Fen through the doors of the conference room that they were in. As they passed Shura, H’siao Fen pointed her finger at the swordsman and spoke to Elle.

“ He is wreathed in darkness, madam. He scares me.” Elle hushed her through the doors. Shura snarled at H’siao Fen’s back, his face contorted into a visage of feral rage. He laid a hand on his katana and drew the blade halfway out of its sheath before he knew what he was doing. He became aware of the fact that Mikealus was staring at him, a puzzled expression on the knight’s face. Shura slammed the sword back into its sheath and stalked out of the room, seeking his chambers.

 

Keep up the great work Shura! I love the story.

 

Here's the next instalment, folks. This part might seem a bit beverly highish and extremely out of character, but I thought it was absolutely neccessary in order to proceed with the story. Ah well. Suggestions and criticisms please....

A soft knock on the door woke the swordsman.
He got up from the chair that he slept in. A few bundled pillows cunningly shaped into the form of a sleeping man lay underneath the blankets. Shura never slept in a bed. That was a habit that had been cultivated in him by his sensei. The swordsman opened the door.

Elle Delryin stood outside his room, her hands tucked inside her cloak to ward off the castle’s chill. He greeted her with a puzzled expression on his face.

“ Yes?”

“ We still have a few days before the orcs attack in full. Perhaps you would like to visit the central Cypher town tomorrow? Kuroi and Kervast are coming along to lay contingency plans for fighting within the citadel walls if they fail to hold the enemy back.”

She asked. Shura cupped his chin in a hand and considered the fact. Kervast, despite his confident words, was a stickler for detail and contingencies. Street-to-street troop deployment was exceedingly difficult, as the civilian buildings within had to be taken into consideration during the battle. They could act as obstructing nuisances or be converted into makeshift garrisons and obstacles to bog down large amount of enemy troops.

Kuroi’s expertise in warfare would be severely tested.

“ That sounds very sensible. I will be glad to lend any aid to their planning, although I hope that those plans will never be put to use.” Shura’s replied. “ How’s the peasant faring?”

“ She’s sleeping peacefully now, though she was speaking extremely cryptically just now.” Elle informed him. She started to say something, and then changed her mind. “ See you in the morning, Shura.” The swordsman bowed politely and then shut the door. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the corridors as she made her way back to her own chambers.


The four of them cantered about town on horseback early the next morning. Despite the influx of refugees from the farmlands and the prospect of war, the town was still bustling with commerce. Kuroi chuckled. The sheer stubbornness of the human race was one reason why he loved them so much and was willing to dedicate much of his existence to their welfare. Kervast eyed the buildings critically, then began outlining his plans for a battle within the city walls. Kuroi took down a few notes on a piece of parchment before arguing against Kervast’s theories and ideas. Shura and Elle tried to voice a few of their own points several times but they were gruffly rebutted by either the stubborn mercenary or the grumpy old man who was getting increasingly annoyed by Kervast’s ideas.

They made a comical sight, arguing loudly in the midst of a marketplace, drawing the attention of many townsfolk. In the end, Shura and Elle threw up their hands and left them to trash out a plan. Kuroi turned to regard them.

“ You are more of an annoyance than an assistance! Take him elsewhere, lady Elle, before I get too tempted to hit him over the head with my walking stick!” Shura could only shrug in resignation while Elle muffled a chortle behind a gloved hand.

Elle led the swordsman down the rows of shops, all the while telling him what was sold in which shop and about the customs of the townsfolk. Shopkeepers and civilians greeted Elle warmly as she passed them and the battle-mage returned their regards with smiles and well wishes. Evidently, Elle was some sort of champion to the townsfolk of the Cypher Duchy.

“ It will be easier if we walk, Shura.” She said, handling her reins to a young boy and slipping a copper piece into his hand. Shura shrugged and did the same. He was never very comfortable on horseback. Elle took a handful of his tattered black cloak and examined it critically. She eyed the worn and battered black garments that Shura wore. The swordsman frowned under her scrutiny. He did have spare sets of clothes…although they were all of similar shade, design and condition…he could not recall the number of times Kalvairn, Blackmire and Ander had exhorted him dress more presentably.

“ What?” he asked, more than a little annoyed and embarrassed. Elle chuckled.

“ Let me guess your favorite color, Shura. Let’s see, black cloak, black tunic and trousers, black shoes and black half-gloves. What could that color be?” She twirled a strand of hair about a finger and looked innocently at the uneasy swordsman.

“ Bah!” Shura scoffed. “ Since when was this issue relevant? You hired my swords and wits, not my appearance!” He started to walk off but Elle again tangled her hand into scruff of his cloak. She muttered a word and made a gesture. Shura’s money pouch flew off his belt and into her hand.

“ It would not hurt you to at least renew your wardrobe, Shura. At least try having the experience of deciding what to wear each day!” He stared at Elle incredulously as she walked into a clothing store, tossing his money purse about in her hands. He sighed and followed her.

The shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman with a brisk way of speaking, greeted them.

“ How may I help you, ma’am?” Elle smiled politely at her.

“ I’m looking for something for the ragamuffin behind me.” She jerked a thumb back at Shura. His eyebrows rose at that statement.

“ Yes, he does look extremely disreputable.” The shopkeeper agreed. She pointed towards a clothes rack in a corner. “ You might find something to suit this young ruffian over there.” Shura threw up his hands in disgust and began to stalk out of the shop but the stubborn battle-mage again grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him towards the corner.

“ How’s this?” Elle picked up a bright yellow cotton shirt. Shura’s verbal protest was vehement, horrified and graphically obscene to the point where he surprised himself. Elle had to sheepishly usher him out while the outraged shopkeeper glared at them. Standing outside the shop, Elle clutched her sides and laughed until she started wheezing.

“ I never knew you could swear so imaginatively, Shura.” She managed to gasp. “ You should hear some of my curses. I’ve made up better.” The swordsman cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed at his outburst. Obscenities were for taunting an opponent and making him let down his guard, not for an expression of frustration. Elle hooked her arm over his.

“ Fine, fine. I’ll try to comment less on your wardrobe. Let us proceed, shall we?” Shura raised a hand to indicate that an apology was not required. Arm in arm, Elle led the swordsman down the town streets, rambling on about the various shops and buildings. Shura digested her information readily, clinically filing away the various bits of knowledge and applying them to the formation of a battle plan.

The two of them arrived at the town square and Shura was surprised to see that like Blackmire’s capital city, a fountain dominated the clear ground, albeit at a much smaller proportion. A sculpture of an angel carrying a scroll in her hands made up the centerpiece of the fountain. It was beautifully crafted and extremely lifelike. Both the swordsman and battle-mage gazed at it in admiration, although it was more than familiar to Elle, a native of the Cypher Duchy.

“ It is a sculpture of Deis, the angel of knowledge. It was said that she descended to the mortal realm and lost her life in an effort to defend Lord Cypher the first, a great advocate of knowledge and art from a demon.” Elle told him.

“ An angel as a patron of knowledge? I thought that they served the Celestial Knight, a deity who abhorred the idea of knowledge in the hands of humanity. His priests enforce illiteracy in the lands they dominate.” Shura asked.

“ The Celestial Knight is not the only deity of Good, Shura. Deis served the Benevolent Pedagogue, Flaeron. She is a well known figure of legend in these parts.” The swordsman nodded absently at her words as he gazed upon the crafted facial features of the angelic sculpture. He was amazed at how much Deis resembled Jo-annia, with the high cheekbones and huge round eyes that ended sharply at their edges. As his gaze swept down, he rested his eyes on a figure that brought about a sharp intake of breath.

Jo-Annia sat on a stone bench beside the fountain, reading from a thick, leather-bound book. She twirled a quill absently in one hand as she consulted the pages from another. Beside her, a scroll of parchment was held down by a small bottle of ink. The resemblance between Deis and her was startling, especially in a side-by-side comparison.

Shura saw the distance between them getting smaller and smaller and realized that he was walking towards the occupied scholar. Elle cut off her monologue as she realized that Shura was no longer paying any attention. She started off after the swordsman as he approached Jo-annia.

A shadow fell over the page Jo-annia was reading and she raised her head in irritation. Her eyes widened in shock as she gazed upon Shura’s dark form. The swordsman’s hair had grown longer and his face bore a few new scars. His eyes seemed harder than she remembered, but it reflected gained strength, not greater cruelty. Shura’s awkward smile was still the same, however. She would never know that she would be the only one ever to see Shura’s sincere smile. Elle appeared at his side.

“ Good morning, Miss Renlia. Allow me to introduce you to Shura, a mercenary hired by Lord Cypher.” Jo-Annia smiled back at her politely before turning her head back to regard the swordsman. “ Shura, this is Miss Renlia, a scholar Lord Cypher commissioned to do some research. She…” Elle broke off her introduction as Jo-annia snapped her book shut and embraced Shura warmly. The swordsman hastily pushed aside the hilts of his swords so as to avoid causing her any bodily harm. After a moment, Jo-annia stepped back to regard her long-lost friend.

“ You seem to be in fine health, Jo-annia.” Shura said. Jo-annia flashed her radiant smile at him.

“ So do you. Do you have any idea how worried I was when you ran off that night? You saved your friends, right?” She inquired anxiously. There was no place for malice and contempt in Jo-annia’s soul, even for individuals as twisted as Blackmire and his lieutenants. Shura knew though, that the deaths he had to bring about in order to protect the Archfiend would sadden her.

“ I did not manage to save them all.” He sighed. “ They died violently, yet contentedly. Their sacrifice allowed us to achieve our ultimate goal.” Jo-annia ran a finger across a scar on one of Shura’s cheeks.

“ Your sacrifice too, my friend. Though I am unsure if it was worth it.” She said softly. Elle did not have a clue as to what their conversation meant. She placed her hands on her hips and whistled through her teeth.

“ Well, seeing as you have already met…” The battle-mage was again cut off by the arrival of a gray-robed figure. Feros Thonas stood behind Jo-annia. He recognized Shura immediately and his smiling features hardened into a disapproving frown. Jo-annia nodded to him cheerfully and opened her mouth.

“ Feros! Meet my friend Shura! He could probably help with our work…” Her words were halted by the mage’s upraised hand. Shura returned the mage’s glare. He could feel the loathing and contempt the other man bore towards him.

“ We have met. It is a sad thing to call this…person a friend indeed. Let us be off Jo-annia, lest we be late for the audience with the Duke.” Feros said. His tone was fond yet authoritative. Jo-annia smiled apologetically at Shura.

“ I have to go now, Shura. We’ll catch up later!” She gathered her things and walked off. Feros lingered behind, still glaring at the swordsman.

“ If you ever sought to accomplish a single good thing in your miserable existence, do it by keep away from her! She does not need the anguish someone like you will bring into her life!” He said tersely to Shura. The swordsman’s eyes widened in surprise at that comment, surprise which turned rapidly to rage. He bared his teeth in a feral snarl and laid a hand on his katana. He had every intention of drawing the weapon and decapitating Feros. Elle grasped Shura’s right arm, preventing him from unsheathing his blade.

“ Shura! What are you doing?” She raised her voice only slightly so that no one else would hear. The battle-mage was far from capable of disarming Shura however, and the blade was almost out of the sheath despite her efforts. She pulled a small piece of lead from one of her many pockets and hurriedly spoke an incantation. She touched the metal lump to Shura’s sheath and the katana slipped out of the swordsman’s hand to slam back into its sheath. Shura tugged again at the hilt but crackling energy scorched his fingers. Coherent thought escaped him.

Staring at his katana hilt, Shura focused his will, falling into the mental disciplines of the Second Sphere. Psionic energy began to gather within his soul as he sought to shatter Elle’s enchantment. Veins appeared between his eyebrows and his forehead darkened as blood rushed to that area. The battle-mage’s enchantment broke apart as Shura directed his will towards his hilt. Elle stared in shock as she felt her magic thwarted. The blade came free with a barely audible hiss and blue flame ran down its length. Feros gazed in horror at his impending doom as Shura drew his sword back. None of his spells were combative.

Elle proved the faster though, smacking Shura across the face with a resounding slap, staggering the swordsman.

“ Stop it! Have you lost your mind?” She spat into Shura’s face as she grabbed him by the collar. The swordsman started in shock, an emotion that was no less mirrored on Elle’s face. She would never have expected the normally cool and composed Shura to behave in such a manner. Judging by the look on Shura’s face, he did not expect it himself.

Feros gulped and tugged at his collar uneasily, cold sweat pouring down his cheeks. He bowed his thanks to Elle.

“ So you show your true colors, Shura. I am not surprised.” He turned and hurried off, leaving the swordsman and battle-mage behind.

Elle felt her knees go soft and a chill run through her soul at the sight of Shura just now. The swordsman could generate an aura of menace and murderous intent stronger than an orcish raiding party. Shura gazed at the floor, seemingly ashamed at his loss of control. He sighed once, flicked his sleeves in a frustrated gesture and spun on his heel, walking away from the fountain. Elle shrugged and followed him.

 

Hmm, I really thought Shura could control himself better than this. Two reasonably unmotivated outbursts in a short time... I've no idea how to improve it, though.

Anyway, it's still great. Keep it up!

 

“The path of Slaughter.” Kuroi muttered. The old swordsman’s hands clasped each other before his face and his voice was heavy with worry. “ You have begun to walk down your sensei’s path.” Shura stared at him in disbelief.

“ Please elaborate, Kuroi.” He asked anxiously. In reply, Kuroi dropped his hands to his sides, and then abruptly brought them up again towards Shura’s throat. The old swordsman’s fingers pressed lightly against the sides of Shura’s neck. Out of the corner of his eye, Kuroi noticed the younger swordsman grasping the hilts of his swords tightly, and then releasing them with trembling hands. He sighed. Shura still had a long way to go before he could abandon his murderous side.

“ Your ki flows in an irregular pattern that a human body is unaccustomed to. This is the result of practicing the dark art of the Shura sword.” He confirmed. “ The ecstatic state of mind that you must elevate your consciousness to when using your sword techniques has become more and more permanent. Very soon, you will experience murderous rages like your sensei.” Kuroi’s face was grave as he said this.

“ How can I stop this from happening?” Shura asked. Kuroi looked into his face.

“ Are you sure you wish to? Your might will increase tenfold during a rage. Even I would be swept aside like a fly in the wake of a Shura’s Rage.” Kuroi shot back. “ You might even be able to master the ultimate technique of the Shura Sword through the path of Slaughter, another term for your condition.” He rubbed his chest, wincing painfully as he recalled an old injury that he suffered many years ago at Shura’s predecessor. The memories brought more sorrow and agony than the wound ever could and the old swordsman’s face grew more and more morose.

“ I can not allow myself to degenerate into a murderous beast! That is the anathema of all forms of swordsmanship!” Shura said fervently. “ Please, Kuroi, tell me if I can stop my condition from getting worse!”

“ You already possess the means. The Blade of Harmony counters the Shura Sword. You have already learnt all I can teach you about my swordplay. The only thing you can do now is to meditate upon my teachings and attempt to regulate your ki.” Kuroi told him with an approving nod. This Shura was indeed different. He had rejected an easy path to power, albeit only verbally. Shura shifted uneasily at this. He was extremely weak in the ways of ki manipulation and lacked the confidence to pull such a feat off. Kuroi noticed his apprehension and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“ Thank the gods that your ki is weak. Were it to be stronger, you would have ended up like your sensei a long time ago due to the fact that you possess so much more aptitude than him in the First Sphere!” Kuroi reassured him. Shura nodded, slightly heartened at his approval. His eyes hardened in determination at the difficult task ahead of him as he opened Kuroi’s door and walked out.

Elle leaned against the corridor walls as Shura emerged. The sides of her mouth twitched in annoyance. Shura had run off from the fountain straight to the citadel, seeking out Kuroi. The older swordsman had just returned from the town himself after a morning of arguing with the stubborn Kervast. The two of them had closeted themselves in Kuroi’s room for the better part of an hour, leaving her outside. Her red hair was in utter disarray and she was covered in sweat from trying to keep up with Shura’s frantic pace. The swordsman could run like the wind. She figured that only Zheng Long could keep up with him on foot.

She stalked towards Shura, intending to give him the tongue lashing of his life. The words died, however, as the swordsman turned to regard her and bent his body in a formal bow.

“ I apologize for making such a nuisance out of myself just now, lady Elle.” Shura said, his tone sincere. “ I hope I did not cause you too much trouble.” Elle gaped for a moment, then stammered out a reply.

“ No significant harm done…I suppose.” She barely managed to get the words out. The swordsman nodded, apparently relieved that his apology was accepted.

“ Never will I lose control of myself again!” He muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Elle. He turned to leave. “ If there is nothing else, lady Elle, I shall take my leave.” Shura gathered his cloak about him and stalked off, leaving Elle staring at his diminishing back.

The battle-mage found that she was tapping her foot impatiently and stopped herself. She had no idea why she was so agitated by Shura. A barely muffled snicker behind her caught her attention. She spun around to see Mikealus and Zheng Long peeking out from behind a sharp bend in the corridor. Zheng Long was laughing silently with a hand over his mouth while Mikealus was trying his best to keep a straight face. His twitching eyebrows and mouth showed just how hard he was trying. They noticed her discovery of them as she frowned fiercely.

“ Erm… how’re you doing, Elle?”
Zheng Long chirped innocently. He ignored the way her eyebrows shot up dangerously and continued. “ So did you manage to engage in any swordplay with Shura?” Mikealus finally burst out laughing, his armor rattling noisily as he clutched his sides with his gauntleted hands. “ What fighting techniques did you pick up from him? Or did you teach him some magic instead?” Something snapped in Elle at Zheng Long’s innuendos. She pulled a thin thread of silk from a pouch and muttered an incantation.


The servants of Duke Cypher knew better than to intervene as they passed the somber and resigned forms of Mikealus and Zheng Long swinging from the ceiling, encased in a web of magical thread.

“ This is the last time I let you get me into a predicament like this!” Mikealus snapped at Zheng Long. The warrior monk was not overly distressed, however.

“ I hardly think so, eh?” He shot back, an infuriating smile on his face. The three of them shared a sibling-like relationship, with Elle as the eldest sister, Mikealus as the sensible middle child and Zheng Long as the mischievous youngest brother. Elle was highly skilled in the magical arts and the spell would take a long time to wear off. The knight and warrior monk groaned in unison for the umpteenth time.


Duke Cypher and Kervast regarded the Elven ranger Aalariel gravely. They had just received a report that the outer-most fortifications have made contact with the enemy and are in the process of executing their organized retreat. The huge mercenary slammed his fist into his palm.

“ Let them come. I shall stain the earth with orcish blood! Let them feel the bite of my Wolves!” Kervast growled, a grim smile on his rugged face. Duke Cypher ran his hands through his balding scalp worriedly.

“ You must hold them off, Kervast! Everything depends on that!” The noble implored, his voice almost a whining whimper. Aalariel looked at the duke curiously. He had undergone a vast change of demeanor and behavior over the last few months. Kervast slapped the duke’s shoulder heartily.

“ That is what you paid me to do, right? Worry yourself not!” The mercenary rumbled. Duke Cypher seemed to relax and went back to muttering to himself and wringing his hands. If Kervast even noticed how strangely his employer was behaving, he was doing a fine job of disregarding it. Aalariel bowed stiffly and left the citadel’s conference room. The elf found Elle walking past the conference room and fell in step with her, Aalariel’s graceful footsteps contrasting with the dull thumps of Elle’s boots.

“ You have noticed that there is something wrong with Duke Cypher, right?” Aalariel asked. Elle nodded worriedly.

“ He has the two scribes and the mage he hired working non-stop in the Cypher libraries.” She informed the elf. “ He refuses to answer any questions on what he has them searching for.” Elle grimaced in frustration as she was reminded of Jo-annia who happened to be one of the scribes the duke had hired. Aalariel brought a hand to her delicate chin for a moment, deep in thought.

“ What?” Elle asked. The elf shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts of dusty cobwebs.

“ I am over nine hundred human years old, Elle. I was present when my elders formed the pact with Duke Cypher the First. Deis the angel was present too. I have looked upon her face as a child…” Aalariel mused. “ The scribe, Jo-annia was it?” For some reason…” The elf snapped her fingers in frustration. “ A trivial matter not worth any consideration in the face of our current situation. The orcs are very close. We shall see battle soon, little Elle.” The battle-mage frowned in irritation.

“ I told you never to call me that, Aalariel! I am twenty six now!” The elf laughed, her voice a musical melody that drifted down the cold corridors.

“ I watched you grow up, Elle! I still recall you and Hacos running at my heels, pestering me to teach you how to use a sword!” Aalariel opened her mouth to laugh again but froze as she realized her terrible mistake. Elle’s expression turned into one of utter sorrow. Hacos Cypher was the son of the Duke and the childhood friend and fiancé of Elle. The headstrong noble had vanished during the Succession Wars after his unit had been overrun. It had taken many years for Elle to get over her sorrow and open her heart again. She raised a hand to deflect Aalariel’s apologies.

“ We shall speak later.” She ran off and Aalariel saw the slightest hint of tears in her eyes as she did so.


The mercenaries posted outside the citadel came streaming in the next day. They marched through the gates and began the mechanical process of maintaining their equipment while the sergeants of each unit went to make their report to Kervast.

“ The enemy is advancing at a greater speed than we would have thought possible, sir. The orcs are using their superior physical prowess to great effect in the execution of a forced march towards the citadel. We have barely a day before they attack in full!” A sergeant reported. Kervast nodded grimly. The mercenary did not take the latest development lightly, though he remained confident.

“ Well, Kuroi, we shall see battle tomorrow!” he rumbled to the diminutive swordsman beside him. Kuroi regarded the sergeant.

“ Inform your men to ready the siege defenses and gather the ammunition for the ballistae and bows. Make sure the firing positions are manned at all times.” Kuroi’s instructions were crisp and clear. The sergeant nodded and walked off. The two of them turned their attentions to the vast map of the city hung on the wall behind them. Kuroi was about to triple-check a contingency plan with Kervast when the sergeant burst in again.

“ Sir! The enemy is attacking! They must have followed right on the tail of the last group to enter the citadel!” Kervast growled and flung his mane of hair. He gestured for the sergeant to lead on.


The orcs darkened the razed plains that were the villages of the Cypher Duchy’s peasants. They were in perfect military formation and the sunlight glinted off their dark, polished armor. Their numbers were staggering. Aalariel swooned at the sight of the orcish army.

“ This goes way beyond my estimation of their numbers! How did such an army sneak under the very noses of my people?” She exclaimed. Even Kuroi seemed daunted at the sheer size of the orcish horde.

“ They number five thousand at least, Kervast. Are you sure that we can win?” he asked. The mercenary nodded his head slowly.

“ Their numbers will not avail themselves much. Consider the terrain surrounding the citadel. Sheer cliffs frame our walls, only exposing a single front to attack. Only so many orcs can assault the walls at a time. We have the ammunition, supplies and manpower to keep up a prolonged resistance. This is a battle that we can win!” Kervast said with conviction. Kuroi agreed that his points were valid and began passing down instructions for the mercenaries to get into position.

The ranks of the orcs parted and a dark figure atop a jet-black warhorse rode into view of the defenders. He was clad in spiked plate armor and a heavy sword hung from his saddle. His gaze swung to Duke Cypher, who was cowering on the citadel’s battlements. From the depths of his horned black helm, the rider bellowed, his voice magically enhanced so that the duke and his allies could hear him.

“ There shall be no mercy even if you surrender! Know that your people shall become the playthings and fodder of my army even as you hide behind your walls!” The dark rider raised a mailed fist in challenge. “ So fight! And grant me some amusement at least!”

“ We shall see about that, you whoreson!” Kervast bellowed back, his powerful voice carrying just as well despite the lack of magical aid. He raised his huge sword over his head and turned to his men lining the walls. “ Let us kill some orcish scum!” The mercenaries raised their own weapons and voices in a deafening cheer. The dark rider drew his sword and pointed it towards the citadel gates. Immediately, an entire chunk of the orcish army broke off from the main host and marched quickly towards the walls. Upon a single barked command from an orcish leader, a barrage of grappling hooks soared over the walls and caught on. The orcs started scaling the walls.

The mercenaries waited until they were about halfway up the walls before they began hacking at the grappling hooks with their swords. Many orcs plummeted to their deaths as rope after rope was severed. Undaunted, rows of siege ladders slammed into the walls and the orcs began scrambling up them. The mercenaries tried to push the ladders off the wall but orcish archers kept them ducking under the battlements from crossbow bolts. Meanwhile, a dozen orcs crouched under linked shields and drove a battering ram again and again into the city gates.

Kervast swept his sword in a gesture to his men. He stood tall and unafraid, despite the hail of crossbow bolts. A few glanced off his armor and nicked his flesh but the legendary mercenary lord would not be daunted.

“ Formation forty three!” He bellowed. The mercenaries scurried to obey. He strung his own bow, a monstrous weapon eight feet long. Plucking an arrow the size of a spear from the quiver beside him, Kervast loosed it towards the shield wall that protected the orcs ramming the gates. The arrow tore through the reinforced wood and impaled an orc, pinning the savage to the ground. He repeated the process until the battering ram lay unattended on the ground, surrounded by orcish corpses.

The orcs who ascended the wall were met by a shield wall with halberds poking out at regular intervals. They screamed their war cries and charged, only to be picked apart and slaughtered by the complex formation of the mercenaries. Kervast’s Wolves fought with great skill and precision, their coordinated attacks cutting down every single orc that climbed onto the battlements. Hundreds of orcs were swept off the battlements by a force less than a tenth of their strength.

Kervast drew his last arrow and notched it. He pulled his bow back and lined the dark rider in his sights. Satisfied with his aim, he loosed his arrow. The great projectile soared through the air, covering a distance of more than a thousand wide paces. The dark rider drew his sword and batted the arrow aside, the force of his blow shattering it and sending stinging splinters flying into the eyes and faces of the orcs around him. Red flame ran down the length of the dark rider’s sleek sword and the runes engraved down its length flared with malevolent energy. Behind his helm, the dark rider smiled. Across the battlefield, Kervast mirrored his expression. The two, though on opposing sides, had earned each other’s respect as a warrior.

Before long, the orcs that attacked were wiped out and the few remaining survivors limped their way back to the main force. A great cheer was raised among the ranks of the mercenaries and the commoners they defended. Mikealus, Zheng Long and Elle stumbled wearily towards where Kervast, Kuroi and Duke Cypher stood. The trio had fought side by side with the mercenaries during the assault.

“ Where’s Shura?” The battle-mage asked as soon as she saw Kuroi. He sighed sadly and gestured to an unmanned part of the wall. Shura stood there, covered in blood. A pile of orcish corpses lay at his feet and his blades were crimson from tip to hilt. During the battle, an orcish force had managed to ascend this part of the wall before the mercenaries stationed there could get into formation. They were in danger of being overwhelmed when a black whirlwind tore into the orcs, shattering their ranks. Kuroi felt a small amount of hope and pride as he regarded the younger swordsman. Shura’s gaze was clear and strong and he appeared to be observing the battlefield clinically. Throughout the battle, he had used the techniques of the Blade of Harmony, rather than the Shura Sword. That had resulted in his near death a few times during the battle, though. Kuroi made a mental note to warn him of that fact and remind him that a balance was required in all forms of swordplay.

Elle ran to his side, slipping on the blood once and catching his cloak to steady herself. Shura was jerked off balance too, and he tumbled to the ground as the battle-mage gained her balance. She gasped apologetically and shrugged as Shura regarded her with a baleful eye from his prone position.

“ Are you alright, Shura?” She asked nervously. The swordsman picked himself up and retrieved his swords, sheathing them in a lighting quick motion. He nodded in response to Elle’s questions. The annoyance she had caused him was a small thing compared to his relief when he found his consciousness free from the heady state of mind that he was so familiar with, even during the thickest parts of the battle. Was he ready to toss away his sensei’s legacy just like that? The look of approval mixed with worry that Kuroi gave him told him that he would have to consider the issue further. He had more pressing matters to consider, however, he told himself, as he gazed at the orcish horde. The armor that the dark rider wore worried him in particular. It was the armor of a high ranking Blackguard, a fanatical warrior devoted to Blackmire and blessed by the archfiend’s fell powers.

The Blackguard turned his helm and caught sight of Shura. To the swordsman, the faint words of “ traitor” played softly in his mind…

 

OK Shura, I hope for your sake that you have that last chapter saved somewhere! 'Cause if you don't, terrible things might happen...

[This message has been edited by Namuras (edited February 20, 2002).]

 

I want mooooooore...

 

Sigh..looks like I'll have to repost the last chapter...sorry for the overlong post, guys...
Here it is...


The orcs attacked again the very next day. Their bestial forms covered the razed plains before the citadel walls as they charged in perfect military formation, brandishing their forged weapons and hefting their fine shields to ward off arrows from the defenders. They chanted an orcish war hymn in a synchronized rhythm that set the pace for their advance. High above them, atop a turret on the battlements, Kervast regarded them with apprehension.

“ I have fought orcs many times in my career but never have I come across such an organized force of the savages.” He confided to his tacticians, Shura and Magatsu Yagyu, better known as Kuroi Itezeru. The latter cupped his chin in a hand.

“ We might have to request aid from an external source. Given the nature of our enemies, there would be little reason for Duke Cypher’s peers to deny him aid, unless they wish to lose political stature.” Kuroi reasoned. “ Of course, we could also request aid from non-political organizations like the Church of the Celestial Knight. They would be more than happy to ride against the likes of orcs.” Kervast and Shura shifted uneasily at the idea. They were none too fond of the religious fanatics but they had to acknowledge the credibility of that notion.

“ Enough talk. The fight comes to us once again.” Shura said, his gaze focused on the dark tide swarming towards them. Kervast grinned and slapped Shura heartily on the back.

“ Have fun, boy. I would join you in an instant if I was not the commanding officer of the men.” Shura nodded grimly and raced down the length of the battlements. He came across a point in the defensive line where the concentration of the enemy was the highest. The orcs were pushing back the mercenary shield wall by the sheer weight of numbers and the Wolves, for all their discipline and technique, were woefully un-ferocious fighters. They fought desperately, sweat glistening on their faces as they strove to maintain their calm and formation.

“Rally! Push them back!” Shura exhorted them. The mercenaries heard him but were reluctant to drive themselves forward into the seething mass of teeth and blades that the orcs were. Shura flung himself at an orc and drew his blade across its throat in a smooth motion. The creature clutched its wound and fell, gurgling incoherently. Its fellows caught sight of Shura and a fair number of them broke off from the force engaging the mercenaries to attack him. Jagged blades were brandished menacingly as they advanced but Shura stepped smoothly into their ranks, avoiding their wicked tips easily. The orcs grunted in surprise as they found the swordsman suddenly in their midst. Calling upon Kuroi’s teachings, Shura slipped past them, his seemingly slow moving form dodging every blow that the orcs directed at him. The orcs snarled in frustration as they found themselves hitting each other when they swung their swords frantically. The swordsman retaliated, twin blades spiraling in slow and smooth strokes that went through the parries of the confused orcs. Many fell to his blades but Kuroi, observing his fight from the turret, frowned in worry and concern.

Shura was adept in Kuroi’s school of swordplay but his prowess in the Blade of Harmony was nothing compared to his mastery of the Shura Sword. To the old swordsman, Shura’s motions were strained and awkward. He feared for the safety of his young protégé and winced as an orcish blade whistled dangerously close to Shura’s shoulder. He spotted a stumble in the Shura’s intricate footwork and a clumsy twist of the wrist as he executed a parry. Kuroi grabbed a spare sword and gestured to a soldier to inform Kervast of his departure. The old swordsman made his way to where Shura fought.

The last orc that broke off screamed as Shura rammed his wakizashi into its side. The swordsman was in an awkward position, with his right knee bent and the rest of his body prone on the ground. He had entangled his own feet just as the orc swung at him and the fall saved his life. Shura wasted no time in dispatching his unbalanced opponent and leapt to his feet to engage the rest of the orcs that were fighting the mercenaries. The shield wall was close to crumbling. Even as he neared, a mercenary was pulled from his formation and slaughtered. He hacked off an orc’s head with a sideways sweep of his katana and yelled again to the mercenaries.

“ Push them back!” This time, the Wolves drove forward with an effort renewed by desperation. They pulled their shield wall tighter and heaved their halberds at their opponents, gaining some ground. Shura attacked furiously, cutting down a pair of orcs with a simultaneous strike from each sword and then drawing them across the face of another in his return stroke. He stepped back from an overhead blow and then stepped slightly to the side to allow a mercenary to thrust his halberd at the offending orc. The savage parried the halberd awkwardly and Shura took the opportunity to stab it in the chest with his katana. The hilt of another orcish sword clipped his shoulder, causing his stance and footwork to fall apart completely. The attacking orc pressed its advantage, its return stroke tearing open a gash on Shura’s side. The swordsman winced in pain and tried to take a step back but the orc would have none of that. A huge green hand shot out and snared Shura’s collar. The savage raised its jagged sword and Shura rammed his wakizashi into its thick forearm. The orc howled in pain but struck anyway, the force of the blow knocking Shura’s katana from his grasp as he tried to execute an awkward parry.

Shura extricated his wakizashi and slit the orc’s throat before it could recover. As the body fell to the ground, Shura found himself surrounded by the savages. The mercenaries have been driven back slightly and the swordsman was now surrounded. He dodged an orc’s blow frantically and drew his dagger, his teeth bared in a snarl of desperation. He began to execute Kuroi’s footwork again but the orcs surged in before he could focus his ki. In his desperation, the teachings of the Shura Sword flowed into his consciousness from the dark recesses of his mind where he had locked them. The familiar rage encased in the ice of discipline filled his soul again but this time he recoiled in fear. His hesitation almost cost him his life as he snapped his head sideways to catch a glancing blow from a sword on his cheek.

A fiery bolt tore through two orcs and they crumpled lifelessly to the floor. Shura caught sight of Elle as she flung her magic at the savages. He parried another blow and leapt through the breach that the battle-mage had created. Shura moved to block the path of an orc that threatened Elle but a whirling quarterstaff drove into its throat, ending its life. Zheng Long and Mikealus flanked Elle, giving her time to cast her spells and Shura some breathing room. The mercenaries rallied under Mikealus’s cries and pushed forward, their sudden ferocity taking the orcs aback. The mere presence of the knight seemed to hearten the soldiers.

Elle flung her hand outwards and small globes of sparks streaked into the orcish ranks. They exploded with a dull thump, singeing the orcs and blinding many. The mercenaries pressed their newfound edge and surged forward, striking down many orcs and hurling their bodies over the battlements. Some distance away, Kuroi slowed down, seeing that Shura was out of danger. Along the length of the battlements, the orcs were being repulsed yet again, though the defenders suffered heavier casualties during this attack. Shura sighed in relief as the enemy broke off their attack and returned to their main force, a seething horde of darkness that surrounded the Cypher citadel. Nodding his thanks to Elle, the swordsman retrieved his katana and sheathed it.

“ Are you alright, Shura?” Elle asked, running her gaze over the gore that covered the swordsman. Shura wiped the blood from the gash on his cheek.

“ I am unhurt, lady Elle. Do you know how many casualties we have sustained this day?”

“ The various sergeants have yet to give a status report to Kervast, Shura. But many of our warriors have fallen this day.” Elle replied, her face downcast. “ Why did you wade right into the enemy just now, Shura? For a moment, I thought you were about to be killed!” The swordsman shook his head in frustration. That was his usual practice in battle when he fought in Blackmire’s forces. His swordsmanship was simply not up to par this day.

“ My apologies for my rash behavior, lady Elle. I shall endeavor to be more careful in the future.” He looked at Mikealus supervising the gathering of the wounded. There were too many, he thought.

“ You had better. I…we don’t want to lose someone of your caliber just like that.” The battle-mage flushed, hoping that her slip of tongue went undetected. Shura was hardly paying any attention to her as he analyzed the impact the latest attack had on the defenders. Kervast’s men could hold out for a long period of time, he reasoned. But it would be impossible for him to achieve a victory of any sort. The breaching of the battlements was inevitable, given the numbers the orcs had. What would Blackmire want with this remote estate? Shura sighed again in frustration. Thinking of his old friend gave Shura an idea, however.

“ You must seek balance, not compromise, Shura.” Kuroi lectured the younger swordsman severely when he went to consult with Kervast and Duke Cypher on their battle plans. “ You combined the techniques of the Shura Sword and the Blade of Harmony during our lesson beside the pond, remember? The art itself is without malice. It is the attitude with which you have been taught to approach it that is at fault.” Shura considered his words for a moment, and then expressed his agreement.

“ I see. Before the polished clarity of Harmony, the reflection of the Shura rage can be applied, instead of the searing bloodlust itself. The image guides, yet does not drive, leaving my soul free from the causeless anger of the Shura Sword.” Kuroi was surprised at Shura’s reasoning. He himself had not thought of that. The fifteenth incarnation of Shura was truly one of the most gifted of all.

“ Well said, my young friend.” He congratulated Shura who grinned awkwardly at the kensai’s approval. The two of them entered the conference room.

“ I have a plan that might contribute to our victory, sirs.” Shura announced the moment he took his seat. Kervast shoved aside a pile of documents and gestured for him to explain. Duke Cypher was muttering to himself. He did not seem to be paying attention to anyone at all. His chewed fingers wrung his wrists and his shoulders twitched incessantly.

“ We have identified the enemy’s leader, have we not?” Shura began. “ The man dressed in the garb of one of Blackmire’s Blackguards is the head of the orcish force. Deprived of a strong leader, our enemy will be severely weakened. His death will prove to be devastating to the enemy.”

“ Yes, your point is taken, Shura. But I don’t see him climbing a siege ladder himself so that one of us can hurl a heavy rock into his face. And you saw what he did that day to my arrow. Our chances of reaching him are virtually none.” Kervast said.

“ With your permission, I intend to infiltrate the enemy camps through stealth and assassinate the Blackguard.” Shura replied. Kervast raised his eyebrows and grinned.

“ I knew your talents lay somewhat in that direction, Shura. But how confident are you? It will not be an easy task, young man.” The mercenary pointed out. “ On the other hand, the time for planning is past and one man, even one with your skill, will be of little difference on the walls. Logically speaking, I should send you, having nothing to lose upon your failure and everything to gain upon your success.” Kuroi looked worried but he realized the credibility of Shura’s plan.

“ We also need someone to carry a message to the Church of the Celestial Knight, Shura. If you are confident in your capability to assassinate the Blackguard, you should have no problem in slipping past enemy lines to deliver our request for aid.” Kuroi pointed out. The doors to the conference room opened just then, and the elf Aalariel entered.

“ I have overheard your conversation. I shall be able to either carry the message or slay the Blackguard through stealth.” She volunteered. Shura looked dubiously at the elf. She caught his expression and retorted. “ You doubt the effectiveness of an Elven Ranger, swordsman?” Shura raised his hands in a gesture of neutrality.

“ It is decided then. As the commander of the Cypher forces, I assign Aalariel the task of requesting for aid. As for you, Shura, you shall protect the ranger and make sure she gets past the enemy lines.” The two of them regarded the mercenary curiously. “ I am not done yet. Allow me to finish. Upon the delivery of Aalariel into unthreatened areas, you shall turn back and infiltrate the enemy camps, Shura. Seek out and eliminate the
Blackguard.”

“ Very well. I hope you can keep up, human.” Aalariel said to Shura. The swordsman grinned confidently back at her in reply. Standing beside Shura, Kuroi sighed in worry.




Jo-annia flipped the pages of the ancient tome carefully, squinting her eyes in the candlelight to make out the archaic script. She referred to a scroll beside her and jotted down a few notes on a parchment before repeating the process. The door to the library creaked open and she turned her head to regard the person who entered.

“ Feros, these characters might need to be checked…” She broke off her sentence as she realized that Shura stood behind her, not the mage. Putting down her quill, she got up and pulled out another stool from underneath a table.

“ Shura! What a surprise! Have a seat!” The swordsman smiled as he sat down. Jo-annia pulled the stool that she was sitting on closer to Shura. His expression turned grave as he started speaking, though.

“ Why are you here, Jo-annia?” He asked.

“ My father made our way to this town after you left us, Shura. We found out that the Duke was looking for someone who could translate the ancient Grilacos script and we accepted his commission. So far, Feros, my father and I have been able to translate three quarters of the scroll that the Duke gave us into the common language. The process is slow and painstaking, though.” She replied, her voice as bright and musical as always.

“ And now you are trapped here by the orcs.” Shura’s statement was grim. Jo-annia smiled at the swordsman’s demeanor.

“ I am not afraid. After all, you’re here to protect me and everyone else in the Cypher Duchy, right?” Shura grinned cynically at the thought.

“ I’m flattered that you think me capable fighting a thousand orcs by myself, Jo-annia.”

“ Never mind that. It has been so long since we had a chance to catch up Shura. What have you been doing all this while?” Jo-annia asked eagerly. Shura smiled and told her briefly about the chain of events that have led him here.

“ Kuroi sounds like a nice person. I would like to meet him someday.” Jo-annia said.

“ I’m sure you’ll get the chance. He’s in the very same building that you are in.” Shura chuckled at his friend’s enthusiasm. She could brighten any room up just by being present. “ How have you fared, then?”

“ My father and I have been well throughout our travels. We met Feros and he has been taking care of us since. The two of you would make good friends, I’m sure. He has read much of what you have.” The swordsman shrugged. The two had irreconcilable differences and Shura particularly detested the way Feros looked at Jo-annia.

“ Take care of yourself, Shura.” She suddenly sounded concerned and worried. The fresh wound on the swordsman’s cheek was apparently very prominent. “ Don’t get yourself killed.” Shura grinned at his friend’s concern.

“ I have prevailed over greater foes than these.” He reassured Jo-annia. “ In the worst scenario, I shall flee from this place with you. None shall be able to stand in my way.” Shura was surprised at her sudden disapproving frown, though.

“ What about the people that you have been paid to protect, Shura?” Jo-annia inquired. “ You’re not going to just abandon them, are you?”

“ Of course not! However, my contract only binds me till the point where the enemy is routed or the walls are breached.” Shura pointed out. “ I would have filled my side of the bargain by then. Either way, the orcs shall not harm you.”

“ Sometimes it is too easy to forget your mercenary side, Shura.” Jo-annia sighed. “ What fee would I have to pay the services you’re offering then?” She leaned forward. The scent of her floral perfume filled Shura’s nostrils that had been clogged by the coppery stench of spilt blood.

“ No…no payment is required at all. Why would you…?” Shura stammered, taken off-balance. Jo-annia laughed, her voice a delicate chime that rang off the thick stone that the citadel was made off.

“ I thank you for your offer, Shura, though it would not hurt you to explore the concept of altruism.” She said, in an attempt to remove the swordsman’s awkwardness. Shura nodded and smiled at her, rubbing the back of his head uneasily. The door opened just then and the two young people snapped their attention to the newcomers. Shura could hear Elle’s high voice.

“ Really, my lord, you should be resting! And you still have not eaten the meal I had the servants prepare for you!” She seemed to be arguing with someone.

“ Yes…yes…I shall have my meal. Just…let me get on with some work first…” Duke’s Cypher’s voice was fond but Shura detected an unnatural tone in his quavering speech. Jo-annia got up and opened the door fully for the Duke.

“ Good evening, my lord. The next portion has been translated.” She reported, concern apparent in her eyes at her employer’s staggering form. The Duke suddenly stood up straight and walked briskly into the room, snatching up the parchment that Jo-annia had been working upon. Elle practically ran into the room after him, her heavy leather boots pounding on the stone, making a stark contrast to Jo-annia’s delicate slippers. The battle-mage noticed Shura and her mouth opened to inquire about his presence. Her questions died, however as the Duke raised the parchment to his face and trembled with joy.

“ Almost there! Almost…” He turned on his heels and ran from the library, cackling almost insanely. Elle yelped in surprise and ran off after him, but not before giving a resentful glare at Shura that had the swordsman frowning in puzzlement. Jo-annia caught the look that passed between the two and chuckled.

“ You have made a good friend in lady Elle, Shura. She has a good mind and a stout heart, much stouter than mine, I’m sure.” She said. Shura shrugged.

“ A worthy ally. I have had more capable ones, though.” He turned to regard Jo-annia. “ What exactly are you translating for the Duke?”

“ They seem to be senseless poems and verses written in the Grilacos script.” She seemed just as baffled as Shura. “ I have no idea why he would behave this way.” Shura walked over to the table and gazed upon the scroll. The words swam and twisted before his eyes and a sharp pain seared through his head. He staggered back, clutching his teary eyes. Jo-annia put her arm around his shoulders.

“ What’s wrong, Shura?” The swordsman gasped and composed himself, willing the agony away.

“ Those are the words to a spell, Jo-annia, How did you manage to read them, much less translate them, without going mad or worse?” He asked. Jo-annia seemed more than a little puzzled.

“ I have no idea, Shura. Both Feros and I are unaffected by the script.” She replied.

“ He is a mage! His training grants him some protection against the wards on spells. I did not know that you were proficient in the arcane arts too, Jo-annia.” Shura said.

“ I am not. The characters and symbols just do not have that effect on me. I’m sorry, Shura, but I do not know anything more about this.” Jo-annia was as apologetic as she was puzzled but Shura waved his hands unconcernedly.

“ No matter. It is rather late, anyway. You should stop working.” Jo-annia smiled and nodded her head.

“ You have a point. Very well, I shall retire to my chambers.” She blew out the candle in the library and walked back to her room, Shura pacing her. The swordsman bid her goodnight as her door shut. The change in the atmosphere was immediate and evident the moment Shura left her presence. The malevolence and hatred of the besieging force chewed at his heightened consciousness. There seemed to be a darkness present behind the citadel walls as well. He shuddered, hoping that he was merely imagining things and walked down the cold corridors soundlessly. He would set off on his mission three hours before dawn. The little rest he got before then was crucial.




Two lithe forms stole out from the citadel into the midst of the orcish camps in the darkness. They moved swiftly, undetected by the dull and coarse savages whose discipline did nothing to enhance their alertness. The ranger was amazed at Shura’s proficiency in stealth. He did not move like a typically clumsy human. Obviously he had trained for years to be able to meld into the shadows better than anyone she had ever seen.

As they made their way past the orcish troops, the ranger and swordsman had the opportunity to better measure their numbers. The orcs outnumbered the mercenaries ten to one, even after the vicious battles and the horrendous losses that the orcs have sustained. The ranger had no idea how such an army of orcs could travel from the Blighted Plains through vast tracts of human territory without creating an uproar. The humans took great pleasure in waging war against each other but an orcish army this large would prompt an united attack upon them. The most ambitious and bloodthirsty human would instinctively recoil from the thought of a collaboration with orcs. What force in the world could possibly assemble such a huge and well-trained army of the murderous savages? The ranger shuddered with dread every time her thoughts brought her down such avenues of speculation.


After a day of running, the ranger and swordsman came upon a grassy clearing in the midst of the forest. They had left the enemy lines a mile behind them. The ranger nodded her thanks to the Shura.

“ Good luck on your mission, swordsman. If you fail and fall, I shall bring reinforcements to ensure that our side prevails.” Aalariel’s tone was curt and brusque, as usual. Shura was about to acknowledge her well wishes when he suddenly froze in mid-motion. Aalariel’s long, pointed ears abruptly perked up and her eyes shot wide open. As one, they dove separately to their sides. A flurry of throwing knives raked the area where the two had been standing.

Aalariel rolled to her feet, an arrow readied at her bow. She loosed the projectile into the darkness of the night and heard a low thump and the slight sound of cut flesh as her target avoided her shot narrowly. The dark form that she had been aiming at pressed a hand to his grazed shoulder and leapt towards her, covering the distance with frightening speed. The ranger swiftly drew another arrow and fired in one smooth motion. The arrow took the dark figure in the eye and he crumpled to the ground. She did not have time for elation, however, as she spotted several more similar assailants charging towards her. Curved blades gleamed in their hands. Aalariel planted an arrow into the throat of another before dropping her bow and unsheathing the slim sword she wore at her hip. She struck as the first shadowy form closed.

Shura was attacked by three of them the moment he got to his feet. The assailants were shocked to find that he already had his swords in his hands before they could press their advantage. The swordsman recognized with a gasp that they were Ravagers. He buried his dismay under his discipline, however, as they rushed him. The boiling rage of the Shura Sword filled his consciousness at the same time as the placid attitude of the Blade of Harmony. He did not lock either concept away from his mind this time, though. Shura distanced his soul from the rage and used its image reflected from the smoothed clarity of Harmony to drive his blades. The Ravagers struck simultaneously, curved swords swinging high, middle and low in perfect synchronization. The swordsman read their movements easily. After all, he had been the one to devise such swordplay in concert based on his own skills. His wakizashi picked off the middle Ravager’s sword while a leap with his head tucked down avoided the other two.

Shura swung his longer sword diagonally upwards to knock aside a crushing slash by a Ravager and tangled another’s sword with his wakizashi. A single well placed kick to the third Ravager’s side staggered the assassin. He gasped and took a few steps back, leaving his comrades to the mercies of Shura’s twin blades. His eyes widened in amazement as the swordsman wove a pattern of death with his swords. A katana pushed a curved sword away almost gently and then streaked forward to embed itself into a Ravager’s throat. The long blade pulled out immediately to complement the wakizashi in Shura’s other hand. With subtle tugs and twirls of the wakizashi, Shura had the Ravager stumbling about, his weapon seemingly stuck to Shura’s as he tried desperately to maintain his grip on it. Shura hacked off his head with his katana, pulling his wakizashi in close to his body and then jerking it out again suddenly. The last Ravager felt a dull impact in his chest and found his comrade’s sword embedded deeply within. Blood poured from his mouth as he tried to curse Shura, for he had finally recognized the truth about his opponent.

Aalariel was hard pressed by two Ravagers. She was highly skilled in the ancient Elven swordplay but the dexterity and control these two humans had were close to matching hers. She parried a blow that was aimed for her head, and then winced in pain as another sword scored a glancing hit upon her thigh. The ranger danced desperately, relying on her racial agility and centuries of experience to fend off the Ravagers. Her foot caught on a fallen branch and she fell heavily backwards. Aalariel leapt to recover instantly but felt a foot press down on her back. The damp grass greeted her as she was forced onto her stomach. The descending sword glinted in the moonlight but was blocked out by a darker shadow. Aalariel saw the dark, indistinct outline of Shura against the moon as he leapt to her aid, his foot lashing out to strike her would-be executioner in the face. As, he landed, the remaining Ravager thrust out savagely at Shura but the lighting quick blow was easily parried. The swordsman ducked and spun, sweeping the Ravager’s legs out from beneath him with a swift kick. He stabbed upwards with his wakizashi as the hapless assassin fell, shattering his spine on the point of the short, wicked sword. The Ravager that had been kicked in the face recovered and turned to run. Shura easily outpaced him and cut him into two at the waist before he had taken more than five steps. Aalariel watched the battle in total amazement. It had taken place in the space of less than a few moments.

“ By the spirits of Nature! Do all warriors from the east fight like that?” She gasped, picking herself up and recovering her bow and sword. Shura could not help in indulging in a vain grin.

“ No.” He replied wryly. “ And you had better be on your way, ranger.” The ancient warrior recovered her grim, stoic demeanor and nodded resolutely.

“ I would wish you success again, swordsman, but you hardly seem like you need it.” Aalariel turned as she finished speaking and ran off, her slender form fading into the darkness. Shura moved in the opposite direction but he paused as he heard a groan from one of the Ravagers.

“ Lord…Shura…why…?” The assassin gasped. The light of recognition shone in his fast glazing eyes. Shura recognized him as Jakeem, one of the deadliest Ravagers he had trained. He also knew that Jakeem had massacred the family of a girl that had spurned his advances and committed unspeakable acts of defilement on her person before Blackmire recruited him. There was a slight sense of loss in Shura’s heart but no pity. A single blow with his katana dispatched the Ravager and he ran off towards the heart of the enemy encampment.

The Blackguard’s command tent was easy to spot, amidst the crude shelters that the hardy orc savages had built. It was a meticulously symmetrical structure, all neat pegs and poles. Two orcs stood guard outside the tent, grunting to each other in their bestial language occasionally. Shura tucked his wakizashi into the back of his cloak, parting it to reveal his katana that resembled the curved sword a Ravager might wear. The folded steel blade was of much better craftsmanship than a Ravager’s forged assassin’s blade but he hoped that the orcs would not notice. He passed through the camp mostly unhindered, though the fact that he was taking up arms against Blackmire this time made him nervous.

The two orcs barely noticed the cloaked figure striding towards them before they died, gurgling softly on the blood that welled from their torn throats. Shura flicked the blood off his katana before pushing aside the tent flap. A flickering lantern dimly lighted the interior and the armored figure of the Blackguard sat behind a long desk, his gauntleted hands clasped before him. Shura cursed softly under his breath. His opponent had obviously detected his presence. The Blackguard chuckled softly and spoke, his voice a powerful timbre.

“ I saw you on the citadel walls, assassin. They still whisper tales of your exploits in the capital of Gryloas.” Shura flinched at the reference to his dark past but adopted a battle stance, seeking a weakness in the Blackguard to exploit. The burnished black helm nodded once at Shura’s aggression.

“ Further words are unnecessary.” He drew his sword and stepped in front of his desk. “ Come!” Shura wasted no time, dashing forward and striking with his katana. The diagonal shoulder to hip cut was intercepted by the Blackguard’s sword. For a moment, their blades locked and Shura stared into the eye slits of the black helm. Two red glowing coals bored right back into his gaze. The gemstone set into the Blackguard’s sword glowed and the runes that ran down its length flared upon his mental command. The burst of magical energy blasted Shura back, sending him tumbling head over heels through the tent flap and into a passing orc. The beast bellowed in horror but its cry was swiftly silenced as Shura drove the hilt of his katana into its thick throat, crushing its windpipe. The alarm had been raised, however, and scores of howling orcs came rushing towards the tent of the Blackguard. Two of them threw themselves at the prone form of Shura but the swordsman rolled away and dispatched them with twin sweeps of his blade. The bodies twitched gruesomely, their spines severed.

The Blackguard strode out of his tent just as another four orcs hefted their weapons and charged at Shura again. He dropped his katana and flung two daggers drawn swiftly from sheaths in his hip and shoulder. Each blade found an orcish eye, their steely tips sinking into their brain. Shura’s foot intercepted the falling katana and he flicked it up back to his grasp. He spilled the guts of an orc that had its weapon raised overhead and beheaded the next with a mighty sweep of his blade while avoiding its sword thrust in the same motion. The Blackguard applauded as the bodies tumbled to the ground, his gauntlets clicking menacingly against each other. Blood spurted from the severed arteries of the fallen orcs. A crimson shower misted Shura and his antagonists that had formed a ring about him.

“ Your reputation is well earned, Shura.” The Blackguard motioned for his orcs to step back as he hefted his sword again. Shura hurriedly drew his wakizashi and adopted his customary dual sword stance. This was not an opponent to be underestimated. The Blackguard swept his sword down in a crushing blow that Shura barely sidestepped. The blade halted a hair’s breadth away from the ground before he brought it up again in a diagonal slash. Shura weaved away from the blow and thrust out with his wakizashi. The black armor turned his blow and he had to duck to avoid the following horizontal slash of the Blackguard. A rising cut with his katana bounced off the Blackguard’s breastplate again, much to Shura’s frustration and this time he had to cross his blades to intercept a backhand from his opponent. The blow drove him back a step and Shura bent backwards, going into a back flip to avoid a low sweep of the Blackguard’s sword.

Shura’s eyes narrowed in frustration: his opponent was nearly impervious to all his attacks. The Blackguard seemed to sense his despair and stalked forward, holding his sword menacingly before him. A resolute look came over his face. He had to kill the Blackguard. A silent snarl passed his lips and he streaked forward, knocking aside the Blackguard’s sword with his wakizashi and directing a backhand slash with his katana that again bounced off the dark helm. A low chuckle emanated from within the depths of the Blackguard’s helm as he punched out with his spiked gauntlet, tearing a hole in Shura’s cloak as he dodged the blow and leapt back.

“ The greatest skill will not avail you against my armor, assassin. It grants me strength and protection beyond that of the greatest mortal.” The Blackguard mocked Shura. “ How much longer can you avoid my blows?”

“ For as long as I need to.” Shura said. He sheathed his wakizashi and gripped his katana with both hands. Taking a deep breath, he focused his will on the folded steel blade. Veins stood up on his forehead, which darkened with the rush of blood to that area. “ Which will not be for long.” A shimmering red-blue flame manifested itself upon the sword’s length. The Blackguard cocked his head curiously at the display, but made no attempt to adopt a defensive posture. He shrugged complacently and Shura smiled grimly. The swordsman was more than happy to test his new mastery of the Second Sphere against the Blackguard’s armor. The Blackguard jerked his thumb down and pointed at his chest.

“ Strike here and break your sword, foolish assassin.” Shura obliged him, leaping forward and driving his katana with all his strength. Sparks flew as the blade came into contact with the armor and a terrible screeching sound tore at the sanity of all those present. Shura felt his katana bend… and shatter into a thousand shards. His psionic energy dissipated with a blinding flash and the swordsman was thrown back to land unceremoniously on the ground. He heaved himself to his feet, his eyes wide in disbelief. The Blackguard laughed and raised his sword above his head.

“ Now you die.” He brought the blade down. Shura frantically parried the blow with his wakizashi but the sheer force of it drove him to his knees. He pushed desperately against the Blackguard’s sword to no avail. His superior strength pinned Shura to the ground. With a final chuckle, he kicked the swordsman in the chest and pulled his sword free. The Blackguard paused suddenly, though. Shura rolled backwards and slew an orc that stood too close. He picked up its jagged sword to complement his wakizashi. It was a poor replacement for the fine blade that had accompanied him since childhood but Shura had better things to do than to mourn the loss of his katana at the present.

A gauntleted hand clutched the Blackguard’s dark breastplate and he staggered backwards. A minute crack was visible on the surface of the enchanted armor and blood was slowly seeping from it.

“ What’s this?” The horror in the Blackguard’s voice sounded genuine and he paid little attention to Shura as he attacked again, this time driving the orcish sword through the chink in the armor. The jagged blade shattered too, but remnants of the weapon remained lodged in the Blackguard’s chest. He fell to his knees and Shura raised his wakizashi, aiming for the crease below his helm, which revealed the vulnerable base of the Blackguard’s skull. The orcs surged in before he could finish his opponent off, however and he spun to face them. He stabbed an orc in the throat and seized his weapon. A fresh blade and his wakizashi in his hands, Shura carved a bloody swathe for himself through their encirclement. He emerged through his path of carnage and ran towards the camp’s exit. Shura ‘s superior agility and expertise in running allowed him to outpace the dimwitted orcs. His mission had failed and all he could do now was to preserve his life. He set a course for the Cypher citadel, the orcs hot on his trail.



Shura ran non-stop for two hours, calling upon his limited ki to boost his body’s depleted resources as the howls and war cries of the orcs spurred him on. A few crossbow bolts flew past him but they were badly directed as the archers were pursuing him. He came within eyeshot of the citadel’s walls and renewed his efforts. The defenders on the walls spotted him and shouted frantically to each other, pointing at the great bestial host hot on his heels. Shura was about a hundred paces away from the gates when a crossbow bolt struck him in the calf. The swordsman tumbled forward. High above him, Kervast shouted orders for the minor gate to be opened but they would never make it before the orcs reached him.

The savages finally caught up with Shura and one of their number leapt at him. Shura stabbed the orc in the eye with his wakizashi but the savage’s weight pinned him to the ground. Another orc loomed above him and raised its spiked club. Shura extricated his wakizashi and flung it into its throat. The orc fell backwards, its spine severed. The swordsman pushed the orc’s corpse away and drew his last dagger. He held it before him and the orcs hesitated. None of them wanted to be the victim of Shura’s deadly aim.

The standoff could not last for long, however and eventually an orc summoned enough courage to lunge forward. Shura’s dagger took it predictably in the eye. Stiffening his fingers, he crushed the throat of yet another orc with a deadly finger strike. He pulled back his fist to confront another charging beast but it halted as a flash of light blinded it. Elle, Mikealus and Zheng Long materialized beside the swordsman. Elle wasted no time in casting another of her teleportation spells as the knight and warrior monk held off the orcs. Shura took the chance to retrieve his wakizashi and was about to move to their aid before Elle clutched his shoulder and shouted to her companions. Mikealus and Zheng Long nodded and disengaged from the melee, leaping to the battle-mage’s side just as she intoned the final word to her spell. The four of them disappeared in a flash of light and materialized atop the citadel walls. The mercenaries took the opportunity to pepper the orcish sortie with arrows, decimating them. The few remaining survivors fled out of bow range, the defenders’ jeers following them.

“ My thanks.” Shura said breathlessly to the three companions. Zheng Long shifted uneasily but Mikealus nodded his acknowledgement. Elle, however, stepped forward. Her heavy punch to Shura’s face staggered the swordsman and he had to clutch the railings of the battlements to prevent his fall.

“ You utter idiot! What possessed you to come up with such a scheme, much less undertake it?” Elle moved forward to strike again but Kuroi appeared and laid a gentle hand on her fist.

“ Now is not the time for such harshness towards allies, young lady.” He chided her, not unkindly. He helped Shura to a sitting position. The swordsman scowled in disgruntlement as he jerked the crossbow bolt out of his flesh. Kervast approached them, his huge form shouldering Elle aside. He addressed Shura without delay.

“ You did it, then?” He asked eagerly. The mercenary’s face fell as Shura shook his head apologetically.

“ He knew I was coming. I managed to wound him severely at the cost of my sword but his troops came to his aid before I could finish him off.” Shura reported. “ Aalariel got through the enemy lines safely though.” Kervast shrugged resignedly.

“ A wounded commander is less effective by far. And we have the aid of the Church of the Celestial Knight to look forward to.” Kervast rumbled. “ A moderately successful operation in all, I would say.”

“ So you knew and approved of this?” Elle confronted Kervast. The mercenary nodded and walked back to his command post, ignoring the battle-mage’s comments. Mikealus had a disapproving look on his stern features.

“ This is hardly an honorable affair.” He said, more to himself than to anyone else. “ Must we become monsters to fight monsters?” Mikealus shook his head despondently and returned to his place on the wall. Zheng Long patted Shura on the shoulder before he followed the knight.

“ How serious are your wounds?” Kuroi questioned him. Shura shook his head unconcernedly. Apart from the crossbow wound, which would mend quickly, the swordsman was virtually unscratched. His failure rankled him, though. Kuroi lent Shura the use of his walking stick and the two of them made their way into the citadel’s interior.






The Blackguard sat atop a stool in his tent, stripped of his armor. His chest wound had been roughly bandaged but at least the bleeding had stopped. His breastbone and two ribs had been shattered by Shura’s attack and he brooded in agony. The orcs would not be able to attack without his leadership and the healer that he had sent for would not arrive until weeks later. He swore vehemently and swept a stack of maps off his desk, the action causing waves of pain to run through his chest. His tent flap opened and a figure stepped in. The Blackguard snarled in irritation.

“ Do any of you have any military discipline? No soldier walks in on his commander like that! I should have you lot of savages flogged!” The Blackguard screamed, thinking that he was addressing one of his orcish guards. The words died in his mouth as he recognized the newcomer. He hurriedly sank to one knee, despite his injuries and lowered his head.

“ My apologies, Mistress Katherine.” Blackmire’s sister laughed softly and waved his apology aside.

“ Sit, commander. Lest you worsen your injuries.” The Blackguard shifted uneasily but moved to comply. Cold sweat dripped down his body despite the unnatural chill in the tent that preceded the presence of Katherine. “ You have met a worthy opponent, I presume.” The Blackguard lowered his head again, cowering in fear.

“ I can still fight, Mistress! I shall lead the orcs personally against the walls tomorrow!” He protested. “ Cypher shall fall!” His dismay grew as Katherine flicked her hand, dismissing his words.

“ That shall not be necessary. Recuperate from your injuries and rest your troops. They are too valuable to waste in an attempt to appease your vanity.” She rebuked the cowering Blackguard who bowed his head in acquiescence.

“ What of your main objective, Mistress?” The vampire bared her fangs and clicked them, the action causing the Blackguard to flinch in fear.

“ My brood and I shall accomplish it. If steel and fire can not breach the walls of Cypher, then blood and shadow shall do it.” Katherine answered. “ By the way, I found out what happened to your Ravager spies.” The Blackguard lifted his head curiously.

“ They have all been killed about a mile from your camp.” The Blackguard swore under his breath. They were extremely important sources of intelligence. “ They were dispatched with great efficiency, efficiency equaling mine. I know of only one person capable of such a feat.” She ran her red, glowing eyes over the Blackguard’s wounds. “ You have met him?” The Blackguard nodded in reply and she laughed, a chilling sound capable of freezing one’s marrow.

“ This will be interesting. I look forward to killing that ungrateful fool.” Katherine opened the tent flap, revealing another of her personal retainers, a vampire in the guise of a pale young man. “ Rest well, Blackguard Hacos. Your army shall be needed again soon.” The Blackguard nodded.

Outside, four forms cloaked in shadow formed a ring around Katherine. Eight glowing eyes gazed at her lithe form wrapped in her trademark skintight leather. Four sets of fanged mouths bared themselves in feral grins as she spoke.

“ Let us go.”

 

Another good post.YAY!!!I know that whole world has been telling that to you,but you should publish that.The world has to read something so good as this is.

Ezellohar Shark
(Im waitin...For a life...and next chapter of course)

 

hurry and wright some more or i might get so desparate for reading material i might have a look at whats in my email inbox soon.

 

Okay..I won't be around for a veeerrryyy long time...so here's a jumbo post for all who read...

H’siao Fen skipped lightly into the citadel’s courtyard. Activity bustled in the open area as armed mercenaries rushed to and fro, hefting equipment and organizing their tactics. Despite being in a huge crowd of heavily armed grim-faced men, the girl felt unthreatened. She had not felt such a sense of security since she fled her homeland with her foster parents. Fiends of darkness had pursued the hapless family across the seas where the minions of the cruel and powerful Blackmire slew them and took up the hunt in their place. The Dark Lord had hungered for her mysterious powers. H’siao Fen could occasionally part the mists of time with the strength of her mind and sometimes the wisdom of Destiny’s Pattern would manifest itself through her words. Destiny had predicted the fall of Blackmire into an eternity of torment through the actions of someone close to him and she had said so in the presence of his sister. The vampire had chased her all the way to the outskirts of the Cypher Duchy where her luck finally ran out.

Pushing back the dark memories, she thought instead of the knight who wore the gleaming armor and his kind and strong face. He would surely be able to protect her. His companions consisted of the fiery lady Elle, whose wry grins and black humor taught her how to laugh again after the deaths of her foster parents and the warrior monk Zheng Long from her homeland. Unlike his solemn and somber peers, Zheng Long wore a constant and genuine smile on his face, as if he was delighted simply to be alive. The warrior monk entertained her with stories about the myths of the Dragon Empire and various acrobatics whenever he could. The three of them doted on the orphaned peasant a great deal and H’siao Fen liked her new family a lot, although she had only been with them for a short time.

Humming a folk song that Zheng Long had taught her, the girl made her way to a secluded place of the citadel, where a certain kind of flower with a pleasing shade of violet grew. She thought of the ongoing siege and the men dying as little as she could. H’siao Fen was determined to enjoy what little happiness her short life had offered her. She turned a corner and reached her favorite spot in the citadel, where her mental energies felt at peace and she could engross herself in studying the enchanting violet petals that seemed to grow only there.

A discordant note twitched in her consciousness as she arrived, however, and her face sank with despair as she realized that someone else was already there. Shura stood on a patch of grass, ringed by the debris of unfinished construction. The violet petals peeked out from cracks within the piled mortar and rocks. The swordsman seemed to be deep in concentration, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed. He took slow, deep breaths that misted in the cold air. With a sudden flurry of motion that shocked H’siao Fen into a violent flinch, Shura thrust his hands forward; palms spread, opened his eyes and bellowed.

“ KIAAAI!” The long grass before him swayed slightly and Shura shook his head, disappointed in his weakness. The skills of the Third Sphere remained far beyond his grasp. Sweat dripped from his face, which was strained with exertion. That last feat had strained his limits. Shura could not count the number of times he had ruptured his blood vessels and caused bruises on his internal organs due to his overuse of ki. Only the healing spells of Kalvairn had kept him alive during his early days in the West when he attempted such foolishness. Adjusting his wakizashi, Shura glanced at the conspicuously empty scabbard that used to hold his katana. The sword had been in his possession since his childhood and Shura felt more than a little uneasy without it. Pushing his sentimentality aside, Shura shrugged. He would have to use the straight swords of the west now, then. They hardly complemented his wakizashi and Shura foresaw a drastic change and impediment to his fighting skills.

He felt a strange itch at the back of his head, a prickling sensation akin to a slight brush with a trailing feather. Looking around, he spotted the peasant that Mikealus rescued. Disregarding her, he gathered his cloak and started walking into the more crowed areas of the citadel. The orcs had not attacked during the last two days and his calf, while still numb, was healing rapidly despite the strenuous exercises he put himself through during the time of respite.

H’siao Fen cowered in fear as the swordsman strode past her. His dark eyes glared at her in irritation, then turned away as he walked off. The man with two swords radiated a powerful and dangerous aura that was neither the reassuring radiance of Mikealus nor the terrifying darkness of Blackmire’s sister. His face was always somber and sullen but she could see a horrifying rage boiling just beneath the surface of his cold eyes. Once, H’siao Fen had peeked out from a window during an orcish attack and had seen him on the walls fighting the orcs. Where the other mercenaries had auras of fear mixed with determination and professional pride, the swordsman had radiated a joyous aura of ecstasy as he reveled in the slaughter. Shura was a monster draped in the skin of a man, she thought, no better than the fiends that had been pursuing her.

“ GO AWAY!” she screamed in her mind. To her horror, the swordsman stopped in his tracks and clutched his head suddenly. In that instant, a bridge of mental energy joined the two and H’siao Fen screamed in agony as the dark knowledge of the Shura Sword poured into her consciousness. A swelling rage flooded her being. For his part, Shura felt a sudden overwhelming sense of insecurity and fear and he sank to his knees, gasping. The emotions of the child crashed harmlessly off the strength of his character, however, and he recovered quickly. He looked up to see the peasant child scream once and fall to the ground, unconscious.

Picking himself up, Shura walked to the comatose girl. He had only the slightest inkling of what had just transpired. Evidently, the peasant possessed mental powers similar to his and she had just attempted to use them on him. His innate mental defenses had repelled the assault, or so he thought, but his methods of accessing his psionic energies were too primitive for him to come to any plausible conclusion. Anger filled him at the thought of this peasant trying to attack him and he almost drew his wakizashi. Only his discipline kept him from slaughtering the girl out of hand. His allies would not look favorably upon his actions. Kuroi would denounce him and Jo-annia…the thought of her dispelled the rage from his mind. Sighing, Shura released his grip on his sword and picked the peasant up by her collar. He could not possibly leave her lying around like this. He swiftly found the room that she shared with Elle and dumped her unceremoniously on her bed. Shura slammed the door as he left.

“ The orcs seem to have ceased their attacks, though they have made no sign of withdrawal. Your efforts were more successful than you realized, Shura.” Kervast said. Kuroi and Shura sat with him at the table in the conference room. As usual, Duke Cypher sat in his seat muttering incoherently to himself. Sores had begun to appear on the noble’s face and he evidently had not bothered to change his clothes or wash for some time. None of the three warriors noticed the pinprick of red flickering within the pupils of his unfocused eyes, however.

“ I have received a message from Aalariel through carrier pigeons. The Church of the Celestial Knight has agreed to help us. A force of seven hundred church soldiers led by the Paladin Sir Ghalus Vole has already begun their march to the Cypher Duchy. They will arrive in a week.” The mercenary continued. Shura and Kuroi nodded their approval and relief. With such reinforcements, their victory was assured. The door to the conference room opened just then and Elle stepped in. She noticed Shura’s glare and her face reddened. The battle-mage hurriedly addressed Duke Cypher.

“ You asked for my presence, lord.” The Duke jerked slightly, as if finally coming to his senses. He stared at Elle for a moment, a look of utter bewilderment on his face, and then shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“ Oh yes…dear Elle…” He spoke in a quavering voice. A startling change came over him suddenly. The Duke’s tone became a powerful and unearthly timbre. His dull and glazed eyes suddenly gleamed with lucidity. “ Bring Mikealus and Zheng Long to the citadel cellars later.” Ignoring the curious looks of the three warriors seated at the same table, the Duke stood up and slammed his skinny and liver-spotted fist into the wooden surface. A feral grin spread on his sickly face, contorting his features. “ The reinforcements will not be necessary, Kervast. I shall destroy all who oppose me!”

“ I would be glad to hear any military suggestions you might have, my lord.” Kervast replied, a puzzled look on his face. The Duke laughed at the mercenary, his tone cruel and full of power.

“ You misunderstand, mercenary. No matter, do as you will with your troops.” The Duke said. “ I want all the Cypher guards assembled in the courtyard this evening, however.” The mercenary nodded slowly, his curiosity evident on his face.

“ What are you doing, my lord?” Elle caught the Duke’s arm. “ You will disrupt the duties of the soldiers!” Duke Cypher brushed her aside with surprising ease. He caught the battle-mage’s chin in his hand before she fell, however, and pulled her face close to his.

“ You have always been loyal, Elle…and for that I shall present you with a gift…of power!” The Duke hissed at his adopted daughter. “ But do not question your lord!” He flung her against the wall where she bounced off. Kuroi leapt off his seat and intercepted her form before she could hit the floor and Shura stood up, a hand on the hilt of his sword. Waves of negative energy poured from the Duke’s presence and the hairs on the back of Shura’s neck stood up. The Duke grinned at Shura and Kervast.

“ Soon…your usefulness will be outlived!” He laughed maniacally as he strode out of the conference chamber, flinging the doors apart. To Shura’s surprise, Jo-annia and Feros waited outside and they followed him as he walked down the corridors. Jo-annia gave Shura a friendly smile as she walked past. Apparently, she was not aware of what had just transpired. A low sob came from Elle as Kuroi helped her up. She regained her stoic composure rapidly though, and patted Kuroi’s shoulder to reassure him that she was unharmed. The Duke’s behavior had scared her more than a little.

“ Does this mean that I will not get paid?” Kervast asked, his thick brows furrowed.


“ Shura, wait!” Elle called out at the departing swordsman’s back. She had followed him after they had departed from the conference room and spoke only when Kuroi and Kervast were out of earshot. Shura turned, a mildly neutral expression on his face.

“ Yes?” He waited patiently as the battle-mage closed the distance between them with heavy strides of her boots. Elle seemed awkward, her eyes fixed on her feet as she approached.

“ I…I…just want to…apologize…” She stopped in mid-sentence and spun on her heel, pointing a finger towards a sharp turn along the length of the corridors. “ The two of you!” Her tone changed rapidly from a stammering one to indignation personified.

“ Damn! We’ve been discovered, Mikealus!” Zheng Long swore. The knight coughed uneasily but the warrior monk grabbed him by a greave in his armor and started pulling him away.

“ Hurry, you dimwitted hunk of steel, before she…argh!” His cry of pain was swiftly echoed by Mikealus as crackles of energy from Elle’s fingertips scorched their rears. The rattling of the knight’s armor gave evidence to their rapid retreat. Shura watched the whole exchange with a look of absolute bewilderment on his face. Snapping her fingers in grim satisfaction, Elle turned back to Shura where she resumed her red-faced, awkward demeanor. The swordsman was totally mystified. He thought that he had already seen all the customs of the west during his long stay here. Evidently, he was wrong. Elle opened her mouth to speak but Shura raised a palm.

“ Think nothing of it. Everyone was caught up in the heated spirit of battle.” The swordsman waved the incident of Elle’s punch aside. She sighed in relief. Elle opened a belt pouch and produced a small ceramic jar.

“ This is a healing salve concocted by Cypher herbalists. It might sooth your wounds, Shura.” The swordsman raised an eyebrow and studied Elle’s face. A bruise was rapidly forming on the side of her face from her collision with the wall just now. He raised a finger and pointed it out to her.

“ My wounds have already healed. You might want to save that for yourself, lady Elle. The swelling might hinder your vision.” Elle shrugged unconcernedly, a self- deprecating grin forming on her face.

“ I have had worse, Shura. After all, I am a battle-mage, equally skilled in the martial and arcane arts. And my childhood was not a delicate one, unlike most women.” A look of contempt flittered over her face as she spoke. Elle was thinking of the studious yet impossibly beautiful Jo-annia. Shura grinned at the remark.

“ I know. After all, I’ve had a first hand experience of your toughness.” He rubbed his jaw as he spoke. The battle-mage packed a wicked right hook. “ Is there anything else, lady Elle?”

“ What are you going to do now, Shura?” She asked. Shura gestured at his empty sheath.

“ I need to find a weapon to replace my old one.” Elle smiled and took his arm, leading him off down one of the corridors. The swordsman directed a curious look at her.

“ A simple manner, Shura. We’ll just visit the Cypher armory.” She clarified. Shura shrugged his acquiescence and followed her.


The Cypher armory was filled with the spare swords and halberds of the Cypher guards and Kervast’s Wolves. Two mercenaries were cleaning a stack of halberds when Shura and Elle walked in. They nodded in respect to the swordsman and battle-mage and returned to their business. Shura walked right over to the rack holding the spare swords and proceeded to inspect each blade. Elle stood beside him as he did so.

The straight swords of the west were awkward in his grip, though they were well forged and highly maintained weapons. He picked up one and spun it in his right hand a few times. Shaking his head in disapproval, he switched to a two-handed grip. A few practice swings later, he sighed and replaced the sword onto the rack.

“ What’s the matter, Shura?” Elle asked. “ Is there something wrong with that blade?” Shura shook his head slightly. The sword was perfectly forged and balanced but it did not feel quite right in his grip. He noticed a pile of steel lying in a corner of the armory. It turned out to be a stack of seized orcish weapons. Elle frowned as she regarded them.

“ What terrible and wicked weapons! Only the most vicious beings could devise blades as twisted and cruel as these!” She said, studying the jagged edges and barbs of the orcish swords and axes. To her horror, Shura bent down and picked up one. The orcish blade was curved, jagged and heavy, Shura realized, but no heavier than his katana. Though a bit battered, it would still stand up to rough use after a bit of maintenance. He drew his wakizashi and assumed his dual sword stance. He was not as well balanced as he was with his katana but the sword would more than suffice. Nodding, he wiped the blade with a rag and pulled out a few scraps of leather from a drawer in the armory. Putting them on a table, Shura helped himself to the tough needle and thread on it. Soon, he had fashioned a simple sheath for his new weapon. The swordsman grinned in satisfaction and clipped the orcish blade to his belt. Elle laid three daggers on the table as he finished.

“ You lost your knives down there, did you not?” She said.” These will serve as fine replacements. There is no further need for you to go digging in that pile.” Shura thanked her as he tucked the small blades into their respective sheaths. He walked out of the armory with Elle but they stopped as they were confronted by the figure of H’siao Fen standing in their way. Shura noticed a darkness in the girl’s spirit that had not been there before. It sent a spike of fear through his being but he hid it beneath his iron discipline. Elle smiled at her young friend and patted her head as they walked past.

“ Do not be late for dinner, H’siao Fen!” Elle said. The girl returned her gaze icily. Her glare turned into one of blazing hatred as it was directed Shura’s back. H’siao Fen opened the door to the armory.


The mercenaries stared curiously at the girl as she walked into the armory. They became wide eyed as she walked over to the rack of swords and picked an old saber. She walked over the table where the daggers and heavy knives were laid out and picked up a curved knife about half the length of the saber. H’siao Fen drew both weapons and spun them expertly, going into a complex and difficult attack routine performed at such speed that the jaws of the watching mercenaries went slack. Satisfied, she replaced both weapons in their sheaths and hugging them to her skinny chest, ran out of the armory, leaving a pair of utterly bewildered mercenaries.




Jo-annia read from a scroll of fresh parchment, running the words through her mind again. The scroll that she had been commissioned to translate had been re-written into the common language used by the peoples of the west. Anyone could read from the scroll now. At some point during the translation, Feros and her father could no longer look upon the words from the original text without experiencing severe headaches. Luckily for her, she thought, the translation was almost done and the scholar managed to finish her immense project without their aid.

“ Are you ready?” Feros asked, walking up to her and laying his arm across her shoulders. Jo-annia smiled back at him and nodded her head. Professor Renlia puffed heartily on his pipe nearby, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“ If that young man…what was his name again…Shura…was it? “ The professor frowned in puzzlement until his daughter told him to carry on with an irritated gesture. He could carry on with a rambling and totally irrelevant explanation if he was not prompted to get straight to the point. “ If he had helped us in the translation, our work would have been done much earlier.”

“ That murderer cannot even read, I say! An education is probably a detriment to someone of his barbaric nature!” Feros scoffed. “ Let him wave his horrible swords around like the uncivilized monster that he is!”

“ You would be surprised at how well-read Shura is, Feros.” Jo-annia said, frowning. “ I would hardly have expected such unkind words to come from you.” The mage reddened slightly in shame. He had not met someone he hated as much as the swordsman before in his entire life.

“ Oh yes, he’s a brilliant chap, for one so young.” Professor Renlia agreed. “ But you’re probably right, Feros. I could not even get past the first two characters on the scroll. Perhaps a certain degree of magical aptitude is required to decipher them.”

“ Nonsense, sir. Jo-annia here has no sorcery or magic at her command at all and yet she managed to finish the job.” Feros replied. Both the professor and his daughter shrugged in puzzlement just as the door to the cellars were flung open. The flickering light from the torch that Feros carried fell upon the skeletal figure of Duke Cypher. He strode into the chamber with soldiers dressed in the Cypher livery trailing him. Elle, Mikealus and Zheng Long walked closely behind the duke, the knight holding a torch to provide illumination for his lord. Duke Cypher made a dismissive gesture in response to the respectful bows the scholars gave him.

“ You have the translated scroll?” The duke’s voice was curt and strong. Jo-annia blinked in surprise at this sudden change in the noble’s demeanor.

“ Yes, my lord. I have it here with me now.” She handed the parchment to the noble who seized it eagerly with suddenly trembling hands. Duke’s Cypher’s eyes gleamed with an insane fervor and he bared his teeth in a feral grin.

“ Excellent.” He hissed. The duke walked up to a wall in the cellar and pressed a stone panel. A section of the wall slid away to reveal a stairwell heading downwards. He motioned for his retinue to follow him and started his descent. The entire group of fifty soldiers, along with Elle and her companions, did likewise. Jo-annia stared at her father and Feros for a moment after the last soldier had descended out of sight.

“ Are we going too, father?” She asked. The professor was practically hopping in excitement and she already knew what his answer would be.

“ Of course!”


The stairwell led to a vast underground labyrinth, which the duke maneuvered with a confident ease. The soldiers shuffled along uneasily after their lord. They had already lost their sense of direction after the first or second turn around corners that looked exactly identical. The passages were damp and Feros removed his cloak and draped it around Jo-annia’s slender frame.

“ This should keep the chill out.” Jo-annia smiled her appreciation as they trailed after the rattling column of soldiers. Far ahead of them, Zheng Long hummed cheerfully, his voice echoing off the narrow confines of the passageways.

“ Will you stop that?” Mikealus chided him. “ Don’t you feel the slightest bit nervous when you’re totally lost in this damned maze. He rubbed his forearms, his gauntlets scratching against his steel bracers. The warrior monk shook his head.

“ This is nothing compared to the hedge maze one has to navigate before he or she can reach the Han Monastery. I can lead us back out again easily.” He chirped, before resuming his incessant humming. The knight groaned in resignation. In front of them, Elle walked closely beside the Duke, a worried expression on her face. She was glad that her lord was showing more physical strength than usual but his utter change in demeanor scared her. The battle-mage rarely felt fear but this time, the hairs at the back of her head stood up and her skin tingled with apprehension.

At length, they arrived at a wide underground hall. Stone sarcophaguses lay in a neat row along its length. This was the Cypher crypt, where earlier members of the Cypher line were interred after their death. Evidently, the practice had been abandoned a long time ago. The latest addition to the crypt was an ancestor of the duke five generations before him. The duke walked over to a rack where the rusted weapons of his ancestors were kept and blew on them. When the dust cleared, all of those present could see a single shield reflecting the torchlight of the duke’s retinue, its surface clear and sturdy amidst the heap of rusted weapons and armaments there. He motioned for Mikealus to step forward and retrieve the shield while he walked over to another door.

The duke stood before a tall, ironbound portal. Arcane runes were written on its metallic surface and a single garish symbol was emblazoned on a red gemstone set in its middle. He raised the translated scroll before his eyes and started chanting the words written there. Elle and the rest frowned in puzzlement as the duke rambled on. To them, the duke was saying words in the common language that made no sense at all. Occasionally, bits of a child’s song would surface amidst the text but the duke’s monologue was utterly incomprehensible. His voice rose in pitch as he continued his chanting. The Cypher soldiers started muttering uneasily to each other. They were simple militia drawn from the peasant and town folk population and had little taste for the arcane. With a sudden climatic motion, the duke raised his arms and screamed the last word to one half of the scroll’s text.

The red gem flashed once and the arcane runes vanished from half of the door’s surface. Elle stepped back, shock evident on her face. She could sense waves of negative energy emanating from the portal. Behind her, she heard Jo-annia give a low moan and collapse into the arms of the mage that accompanied her. They shook her frantically, trying to rouse her but Elle was no longer paying any attention to them.

Duke Cypher chuckled lowly, his shoulders heaving with silent laughter. He was about to resume his incantation but Mikealus approached him with the shining shield, bearing it respectfully in his arms. The mark of the Benevolent Pedagogue was etched onto its surface and the knight did not fail to recognize it as a blessed artifact that demanded his utmost reverence.

“ My lord.” He said. The Duke turned to face him. His eyes were like red pinpricks of light gleaming from the shadowed hollows of their sockets and an insane grin contorted his features. “ Your shield.” The knight proffered it. Duke Cypher laid a hand on it and his expression seemed to soften.

“ You have served me well, Mikealus. Ever since the Knights of Glimmer sent you into my service on a quest of errantry, you have never disappointed me once, in conduct and performance. Truly you deserve your place as a true knight among their number. When you are able to, take the shield to the Glimmer Cathedral. The Grand Master of the Glimmer knights will raise your status to a true knight.” The duke’s voice resumed its weak, strained tone and he staggered. Elle caught him before he did so and Zheng Long ran to help her. Mikealus knelt before the duke, tears of gratitude streaming down his face.

“ My lord, you do me too much honor.” He said through choked sobs. The Cypher soldiers applauded softly in the crypt. The knight was well liked for his fairness and compassionate nature. Elle and Zheng Long smiled brightly at him and he nodded his acknowledgement to them.

“ Bear that shield proudly in battle, sir knight. It is the family heirloom of the Cypher line.” The duke turned to regard Zheng Long next. “ Strange twists of fate have brought you into my service, young easterner but never have I regretted my decision to employ you.” He removed a jade amulet from his pocket and pressed into the warrior monk’s hands. It was carved into the likeness of a falcon. Zheng Long started to protest but the duke cut him off with a gesture.

“ I have nothing as valuable as the Cypher Shield to give to you but take this amulet. I am told that it grants its bearer fortune.” The warrior monk accepted the gift and tucked it into his waist pouch, at a loss for words for once in his life. The duke pulled a simple unadorned ring of silver off his finger and gave it to Elle. She stared at him in amazement. The ring tingled with arcane power in her hands.

“ I was to hand this ring to Hacos before he left and he was supposed to give this to you on your wedding day.” The duke said. “ The poor boy never managed to do so and I feel much sorrow at your loss.” Elle shook her head in denial but Duke Cypher stroked her red hair fondly. “ The two of you would have been the pride of my life. Take it, Elle, it is a ring passed down by each woman that marries into the Cypher family. You have the most right to it.”

“ Why are you doing this, my lord?” The battle-mage asked him. Duke Cypher did not answer her question. Instead, he turned his gaze back towards the portal. He started to push Elle away.

“ Now you must go, Elle. Take Mikealus and Zheng Long and return to the surface.” He said softly. The duke laid his hands on the door and a spasm ran through his body. The trio reached for him but he turned and swept away their hands violently. “ I told the three of you to leave!” Despair wrenched at Elle’s soul. For a moment, the kindly noble that had raised her was back, stroking her hair and talking in his soft, pleasant voice. That moment had passed.

“ My lord!” Elle cried, trying to grasp the duke’s sleeve. Duke Cypher tore his arm loose and backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling to the dusty floor of the crypt. She clutched her cheek and stared at the duke in shock.

“ Leave!” His voice echoed off the walls of the crypt. “ I command you as a lord, Mikealus, to take her and leave!” The knight was taken aback but he picked Elle up and started ushering her towards the exit with Zheng Long in tow. The battle-mage struggled ferociously but Zheng Long snatched her pouches away and Mikealus held her in an iron grip. Without her magic, she was no match for her companions. Feros gave up on his attempts to wake Jo-annia and picked her up in his arms. He started off after the knight, calling for Jo-annia’s father to do so likewise. Professor Renlia was too concerned with his daughter to show any further interest in Duke Cypher’s affairs and followed them.

“ Cypher!” Elle’s cries faded as they gradually went out of earshot. The Cypher soldiers shifted uneasily at the sight of the duke staring despondently down at his hands.

“ What have I done?” He muttered to himself silently. “ I have almost damned my beloved daughter!” The duke started to chuckle again, his shoulders heaving with unspoken sobs. “ But I shall not be denied my power! Blackmire!” The sound of that unholy name rang through the crypt as he shouted it. “ You shall fall as I take your place!” The duke started his incantation again.

“ Stubborn and stupid.” Kervast muttered to Kuroi and Shura as they stood on his command post atop the battlements. “ These orcs are really starting to irritate me.” The orcish army was preparing to attack again. The three warriors could see the seething tide of green and armored flesh massing in readiness for another assault. Guttural war cries sounded a discordant note in the symphony that the strong wind was singing as it blew against the walls of the Cypher citadel.

“ Their leader does not seem to be present.” Shura pointed out to the mercenary. He swept his gaze over their ranks but could not detect the Blackguard. He spotted a distinctive orc, however, sitting atop a roughly made wooden wagon pulled by two of its fellows. This orc was bellowing orders to the others. “ It would seem that they have found a temporary leader.”

“ All stand by to defend the walls!” Kervast shouted to his mercenaries. His orders were passed down the line of soldiers swiftly. Shura started to move to his usual position on the walls, where the fighting was thickest but he noticed a scuffle in the courtyard of the citadel, behind the walls. Elle was struggling against the grasp of Mikealus and Zheng Long. She seemed to be trying to enter the entrance to the cellars but the two barred her way. Beside them, Feros and Professor Renlia stood over the unconscious form of Jo-annia, fanning her in a desperate bid to awaken her. Shura abandoned his post immediately and ran swiftly down the steps, making his way towards them, ignoring Kervast’s astonished protests.

“ What is going on here?” He demanded, as he neared Jo-annia’s prone form. Professor Renlia wrung his hands in anguish while Feros gave Shura a dark glare.

“ I have no idea, young man. She fainted while we were in the Cypher crypt.” The professor told him. Shura knelt beside his friend, applying two fingers to the base of her throat to check her pulse. It was strong and the swordsman could feel the rhythmic fall of her breath on the palm that he put over her face.

“ Get her inside. The orcs are going to attack again.” He started to pick Jo-annia up but Feros brushed his hands away.

“ You should be up there, doing your bloody work, murderer!” The mage snarled at Shura. The swordsman had to resist a strong urge to ram his stolen orcish sword into Feros’s throat but he kept silent. “ Keep your filthy hands off her!” He picked up Jo-annia and ran into the citadel’s interior with the professor.

“ Shura! Help me!” Elle screamed at him. The swordsman regarded the struggling trio with an inquisitive look. “ I cannot leave Duke Cypher in that awful place by himself!”

“ Duke Cypher has fifty soldiers beside him, Elle.” Mikealus tried to reason with the hysterical battle-mage. “ He is in no danger!” Zheng Long finally gave a frustrated sigh and stiffened two fingers. He struck Elle three times on her nerve centers and she fell limply to the floor.

“ I’m sorry, Elle.” The warrior monk was horrified that he had to use his nerve sealing techniques to paralyze his friend but he could not disobey the duke’s orders. Elle glared at him balefully from her prone position but she could not speak. Mikealus picked Elle up but Shura reached over and undid Zheng Long’s work by unsealing her nerve centers. The battle-mage immediately leapt out of Mikealus’s grasp and started for the cellars but Shura intercepted her, his form blocking the entrance entirely.

“ What is this all about?” He asked. “ The orcs are attacking soon and the three of you are scuffling like children here.” Elle started to protest but she stopped as she noticed the change of expression on Shura’s face. Dread filled the swordsman as his mental powers detected a great negative presence approaching him from behind. He ran towards Elle and brought her down in a flying tackle while shouting to Mikealus and Zheng Long.

“ Get down!”

The entrance to the cellar exploded in a shower of stone and wood that pelted the four of them painfully. Shura was the first to recover from the blast and he saw dark forms soaring out from the rubble amidst the clouds of dust. He recognized them as the soldiers of Cypher, now horribly warped. Their armor had fused into their flesh and scythe-like claws protruded from their fingerless hands. Bat-like wings bore them high into the sky where they encircled the Cypher citadel, screaming their demonic rage, sending waves of terror through the defenders and orcs alike.

Kuroi gazed at them, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew these demons. He had battled many of them in his past. A barely audible whisper passed his lips.

“ Dementia Fiends…”

Elle raised her head, coughing violently to expel the dust from her lungs. A drop of blood fell onto her cheek and she wiped it off. Shura was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. When he tackled her to avoid the explosion, he had inadvertently shielded her form with his own. The swordsman was looking at the monstrosities circling the citadel and she raised a hand to his face. Shura snapped his gaze back to her and dragged her to her feet before she could touch him.

“ Demons!” He identified them. Fighting beside Blackmire all those years had made him well acquainted with the infernal things. Mikealus railed to his feet, waving his sword defiantly at the demons. Something inherent in the knight screamed against the travesty that their presence was and he was filled with a righteous rage as he bellowed the battle cries of a worshipper of the Celestial Knight. Zheng Long cowered beside them, the smile totally wiped off his face. Terror was evident on his youthful features but he composed himself well, drawing upon the discipline of a Han warrior monk. Shura drew his swords as another figure emerged from the wreckage of the cellars. A huge winged demon hovered above the rubble. Its wings remained stationary as the demon hung in the air through sheer force of will. It approached Elle and the two easterners. Mikealus, caught up in his religious fervor, failed to notice the closer threat, which totally ignored him.

Zheng Long stepped forward to intercept the demon and launched a flying kick to its horned head. The blow stopped midway and an invisible force knocked him out of the demon’s path. He landed heavily on the ground, his skull bouncing off the hard surface, rendering him unconscious. Shura took a closer look at the demon and saw that it had the face of Duke Cypher. A gem of swirling amber was embedded in his chest and it glowed with a radiance that seemed to envelop the demon’s entire form. The former Duke regarded Elle with a sad expression on his warped face.

“ I am sorry that I had to keep this from you, Elle.” His voice rang with an unearthly timbre. “ The Demon Lord Asmodeus had part of his essence entrapped in my ancestral crypt by the angel Deis before her destruction. You are familiar with the legends of the Cypher Duchy, are you not? I have undid the seals that bind his power and taken it into my body.” Elle shook her head in denial, her eyes wide in horror.

“ No! Why did you do such a thing?” She tried to run forward but Shura held her back. The demon threw back his bestial head and laughed horribly.

“ Why? For power, of course! With the might of Asmodeus, I could overthrow Blackmire and seize all that he has held! He will be crushed!” Cypher screamed through his laughter. Elle put her hands to her mouth. Sudden comprehension dawned upon her.

“ Hacos…you blame Blackmire for his death?” She asked. The army that she and Hacos had enlisted with had been utterly routed and destroyed by Blackmire’s forces. She had fled, searching vainly for any trace of her fiancée while doing so.

“ I am but the ruler of a puny feudal fief. How could I do anything that might threaten the mighty king? So I delved into my family legends, eventually locating a scroll that undid the seals upon Asmodeus’s power! I shall have my vengeance upon Blackmire!” Cypher proclaimed. “ Even now, his forces besiege my walls. They seek what I have already found. I shall send them all to hell!” The reincarnated demon took to the skies and directed his minions to fall upon the orcish horde. With a hideous shriek, they did so. The savages fell back in terror but the Dementia Fiends were relentless. They tore into their ranks, biting their heads off and impaling them on their claws. From his perch high in the air, Cypher rained bolts of fire and lighting onto them. The mercenaries cowered in terror at their posts but they were grateful that they were not the targets of the demon’s wrath.

The battle was over soon enough. None of the orcs that approached the citadel walls remained alive and the Dementia fiends gathered in the Cypher courtyard, their heads bowed, ignoring everything. Duke Cypher stood before them, his face glowing with exuberance. Kervast reorganized his troops and walked calmly over to address his employer.

“ Well done, my lord.” The mercenary did not flinch as he looked up into the demon lord’s face that was at least a foot higher than his. “ May I discuss the matter of my payment then? It seems like you no longer require my services.”

“ No. I have need of your warriors yet. Stay for a while more and I shall triple your fee, mercenary.” Duke Cypher told him. The mercenary nodded in agreement; he was never one to pass up lucrative offers. Mikealus regarded his lord with disgust. He walked up to the duke and offered the Cypher shield.

“ I can serve you no longer, Duke Cypher. Please take this back.” The demon turned to face him and for a moment, he seemed to wither under the knight’s relentless glare. He shook his head.

“ Keep the shield, Mikealus. I hold you in high regard still.” Duke Cypher turned his back, cutting off further conversation with the knight.

“ I shall pray for your salvation, Duke Cypher, with the acceptance of this gift.” A sad tone stole its way into Mikealus’s speech. He saluted the duke once and walked away.

“ Mikealus! Where are you going?” Elle screamed at him as he walked past. The knight was heading resolutely to the citadel gates and he seemed to have every intention of walking out into the orc infested forests that ringed the citadel. “ The orcs are not defeated yet! You’ll be killed out there!”

“ I can not consort with demons. Yet I will not stand by while the orcs threaten the folk of Cypher. I shall advance upon their camp and destroy them this instant or die trying.” Mikealus told her. His features softened into a smile for an instant. “ It has been an honor to fight by your side, lady Elle. Farewell.” He continued on his way.

Elle was about to call out to him again when Zheng Long groaned painfully. The battle-mage and Shura propped him up into a sitting position. Shura examined the warrior monk for broken bones and found none. The youth was a great deal tougher than he looked.

“ Zheng Long!” H’siao Fen appeared seemingly out of nowhere and ran to his side. She hugged Elle tightly. “ I felt a great and evil thing near you and thought that you would be hurt!” Elle smiled and patted the girl’s head fondly.

“ We are alright, H’siao Fen. Zheng Long here has a few bruises but he should be fine.” She reassured her. Elle’s eyes narrowed, however, as she noticed the two blades strapped to the girl’s back. “ What’s this?” She demanded.

“ I thought the dark man was going to hurt you and I wanted to protect you all from him.” H’siao Fen pointed at Shura who raised his eyebrows in surprise. The girl had an extremely straightforward demeanor. Elle frowned at her.

“ Don’t be silly. Shura is a friend.” She chided H’siao Fen. The battle-mage fell silent as she noticed the duke standing over them, his huge form blocking out the light from the dying sun. He raised a clawed hand and Zheng Long’s body floated into the air. Before anyone could protest, the duke unleashed a stream of healing energy into his body. Zheng Long jerked once, then opened his eyes before sinking to his knees, gasping.

“ My apologies, Zheng Long. You seemed hysterical with terror.” Zheng Long shrank away from the towering form of his former employer and scrabbled at the ground to propel himself backwards.

“ No…! Demon! Keep away!” He stammered through chattering teeth. The duke gave a resigned sigh and turned away. Shura sheathed his blades and started walking off, much to Elle’s surprise.

“ Where are you going, Shura?” She asked, shocked at his apparent desertion.

“ I have to check on Jo-annia.” The swordsman replied without hesitation. With his back turned, he did not see the mournful look that passed over the battle-mage’s face. His footsteps gained urgency and he eventually broke into a full run, disappearing into the citadel’s interior.


Shura found them in Jo-annia’s room. He burst in to find Feros and the professor sitting by her bedside. The scholar herself sat up in her bed, regarding the pair with a puzzled look. Professor Renlia had a firm grip on her hand and was sobbing tears of relief. The mage was stroking her other hand and muttering a jumble of placations. She noticed Shura standing in the doorway and greeted him with one of her dazzling smiles that she gave away so freely.

The swordsman felt the tightness in his chest go slack at the sight of her unharmed. He walked over to the bedside, ignoring the glares of Feros.

“ Are you feeling well?” He removed his dusty half-gloves as he did so and wiped his hands on his cloak.

“ I feel fine, though I have only the vaguest recollection of what had transpired. Perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me, Shura. I will get nothing out of these two when they are in this condition.” Jo-annia directed resigned looks to Feros and her father.

“ Later.” Shura reached forward and placed the tips of two fingers of one hand to the side of her neck and another two on the hollow of her shoulder. Feros gasped in outrage and pulled back a fist to strike Shura. He evidently thought that the swordsman was behaving out of propriety with Jo-annia. Shura stopped him with an ice-cold, murderous glare that left him with no doubt of what would transpire if he carried through with his actions. The swordsman felt the pulse of his friend and slowly counted to six. Jo-annia’s pulse was normal. With a satisfied nod, he withdrew and put his half-gloves back on. Jo-annia laughed softly at him.

“ Which part of me will you be wanting to check next?” The unintentional tease reddened both the faces of Shura and Feros who coughed lowly into his fist. The swordsman adjusted his cloak and began to speak.

“ Duke Cypher has unlocked a fraction of the Demon Lord Asmodeus’s power and has taken it into himself. He has warped all the Cypher soldiers into demons that serve him unfailingly.” Shura said in straightforward manner. Three faces looked back at him with astonished stares. “ I personally feel that you are in no danger at the moment. With the power of a fiend, Cypher could turn the tide of the battle. The orcs no longer pose a threat. You should leave, however, at the first opportunity that it is safe to do so.”

“ We are safe in the presence of a demon?” Feros scoffed. “ Perhaps you would do well to consort with one of your kind but we are leaving now!”

“ Leave then, and die in the cooking pot of an orc. Jo-annia and her father are staying until the orcish siege has been entirely lifted.” Shura shot back. Jo-annia fixed the swordsman with a pleading look that begged him to cease the bickering. She never enjoyed the sight of two of her friends at odds with each other. Shura turned and walked out of the room, not bothering to say any more. He feared that he would give in to his violent impulses and slaughter the mage.




Shura spotted a beam of light that emanated from a crack in the door of Kuroi’s room. He had not consulted with the old swordsman for a long time. Shura knocked twice and pushed the door open.

Kuroi knelt in the middle of his room, regarding an opened box with a sorrowful expression on his face. He did not acknowledge Shura’s presence. Reaching into the box, the old man withdrew a pair of curved swords. A set of dai-sho, consisting of a katana and a wakizashi. He spoke lowly in a tone filled with regret and anguish. Strangely enough, the words seemed to be addressed to his weapons.

“ I had hoped for you to collect dust till the end of my days, old companions. Yet, here I am, on the brink of wielding you again.” To Shura’s surprise, tears rolled down the wizened swordsman’s face. “ Evil threatens as always, but this time I shall not allow any others to face it themselves.” He took up his katana and drew it, its magnificent edge glinting softly in the candlelight that illuminated the room.

“ Whispering Edge…one more battle awaits us.” Kuroi named the blade. “ One last one. I can feel it.” At this, Shura broke in.

“ Nonsense, Kuroi! You have a lot of living left to do!” Shura dismissed Kuroi’s fears. “ The orcs are almost done for. We just have to sit back and watch!” The old swordsman regarded him with a sad look.

“ It is not the orcs that I am going to take up arms against.” Kuroi withdrew his fabulous armor from the same box and started buckling it on. Shura stared back, incomprehension etched on his face.

“ You are going to do battle against Duke Cypher?” Shura asked. “ But why? He seems to have mastered the demonic might perfectly.”

“ The nature of Asmodeus will consume his being before long, Shura. But it is not only him that I’m worried about.” Kuroi replied. “ Can you not feel it? Another dark presence has entered the citadel. Blood wrapped in cases of dead flesh.” Shura was puzzled for a moment but he fell into himself, adopting his state of concentration as he sought to utilize the same senses of Kuroi.

He was right. Malevolence and hostility dripped from the unnaturally heavy atmosphere. Shura felt his skin crawl. A consciousness was viewing every single living thing in this citadel as a piece of meat to be consumed. More than one consciousness, in fact. Cold sweat formed on his brow. He regarded the now fully armored figure of Kuroi.

The old swordsman looked magnificent in his old samurai armor. Despite his age and diminutive stature, he cut a more imposing and impressive figure than Bu-Shin.

“ What are our opponents, Kuroi?” Shura asked him. His question went unanswered, however, as the dying scream of a soldier pierced the night air.

“ They are here.” Kuroi told him. Shura scrambled for the door and the two of them ran out to confront a darkness that was even more insidious and deadly than the swordsman himself.


Jo-annia had finally persuaded Feros and her father to let her out of bed when the door to her room crashed open again.

“ How may I help…”? Her question died away as the form of Jaroem stood in her doorway. Her childhood friend had a new feral look to his features and he was dressed in black leather armor. Feros was more perceptive, sensing the negative energy about him.

“ Vampire!” He croaked and tried to launch into a spell. His repertoire was mediocre in terms of combat however and Jaroem snapped a heavy punch into his head that knocked the mage unconscious. Before anyone could react, the vampire strode forwards and kicked the professor heavily in the stomach, sending him flying into a closet. Jo-annia screamed in terror but Jaroem caught her hand in an iron grip and leered into her face, baring his fangs.

“ Finally, I get what is mine!”


“ By the gods, what is that thing?” Kervast bellowed. His soldiers had fired wave after wave of arrows at the pale woman who had suddenly appeared in their barracks and torn the throats of two soldiers out. The shafts bounced off her skin and she laughed hideously at their efforts. With a sudden quickening in stride, the creature dove into the ranks of Kervast’s bowmen. The sound of tearing flesh and screams of agony filled the air.

“ Damn you, monster!” Kervast drew his huge sword and leapt towards the fracas. He did not like any of his soldiers wasting their lives. The mercenary brought his blade down onto the woman but she sidestepped out of the way and tossed the head of a mercenary into Kervast’s face. The missile connected solidly and he staggered back. The woman crouched low and aimed a sweeping kick at Kervast’s heels. With a strength not of this world, she sent the towering mercenary flying head over heels into a table, breaking it to shards.

Kervast sprang to his feet to find the woman standing right before him. A heavy fist hit him across the jaw and a kick to his chest sent him flying back again. The mercenary landed well, this time, retaining his balance even as he fell back. The huge sword was up and ready as the vampire sprang at him.

“ Die!” He bellowed as he struck.


Two dark forms stepped from the shadows to encircle Cypher’s huge form, as he took reposed on a throne of orcish bone that he had his minions build. The duke was not surprised.

“ I have been expecting you, agents of Blackmire.” He held up a clawed hand. Fire sprouted from the claws. “ You can serve him better in hell!” The duke directed his powers at the vampires but they avoided the blast easily, their lithe forms moving with frightening swiftness. Each of them produced a dull, black sword from beneath their cloaks and they leapt at the duke. He seemed unconcerned, not even bothering to defend himself.

“ Fools! Weapons can no longer hur…” Cypher’s proclamation was turned into a horrible scream as the swords bit in deep and burned into his demonic flesh. The vampires released their grips on their weapons and left them embedded there.

“ Swords of Law, Cypher, that they might counter your chaotic power without harming us. A fiend is mighty, but it has too many weaknesses to exploit. Lady Katherine shall have Asmodeus’s Essence Shard after the swords have destroyed you.” A vampire explained.

“ My servants! Aid me!” Cypher screamed. The Dementia Fiends surged into Cypher’s personal room and dove on the vampires who produced their own personal weapons and fought back. Weakened by their master’s condition, they proved to be no match for the vampires even with their superior numbers.

Before long, every single Dementia Fiend lay dead at the feet of the vampires.

Shura and Kervast ran down the corridors heading towards Cypher’s personal chambers. Elle and Zheng Long met them on the way.

“ I heard the screams! What is happening, Shura?” The battle-mage demanded. The swordsman shook his head to indicate his ignorance.

“ Let us not waste more time.” Kuroi said. He laid a hand on Zheng Long’s shoulder. The young warrior monk still trembled yet. “ Fear should not be feared itself. Find your courage in your cheerfulness of heart, young man.” Zheng Long gulped and nodded.

“ Let’s go.” Shura started on his way again but a vile presence suddenly filled his awareness. “ Back!” He shoved Elle and Zheng Long towards Kuroi and drew his wakizashi to deflect a spinning short sword with a blue radiance running down its length. He recognized that weapon. The short sword snapped away from its spinning descent and Shura could see a silver cord attached to its pommel. Another blade streaked towards him and again the swordsman parried it. This time, red flame burned down its length. He stared hard into the darkness of the corridor ahead.

“ Yes, Shura, it is me.” Katherine emerged from the shadows, holding her twin blades in her hands. “ Looks like we have our loyalties aligned in opposite manners this time, eh?” She smirked, a hint of her fangs showing.

“ You know her, Shura?” Elle asked him. The swordsman drew both his swords in response.

“ An old comrade.” He replied laconically. “ Go. I shall deal with her.” Kuroi nodded his agreement and led the others past him and the vampire. The old swordsman had one more thing for Shura, however.

“ Do not envy those who crawl in the darkness now that you have made your way to the light, Shura.” Shura nodded obligingly at his words and Katherine laughed.

“ You have made your way to the light?” The vampire was almost hysterical. “ You still look the same. Dangerous, violent and still adopting that pose that so excites me.” She struck a sensual pose but Shura was more than immune to her charms. He held his blades at the ready. Katherine flung back her hair and readied her weapons too.

“ Come then! I shall show you that the title of ‘genius’ does not belong to you exclusively!” She snarled.

“ We shall see.”

 

YAY!!! One looooooong and nice post. Go on, Shura.


Ezellohar Shark
(Me likes your stories,honestly)

 

As usual, superb work..

 

jumbo posts are very good. even better than normal posts

 

Shura left for Taiwan for a month and a half. Army training. Let us hope he doesnt die there.

 

a month and a half

 

Ok, just back from taiwan for a day or two and i'm off to thailand again. This is what i've worked on, eh?

And i've got a friend doing Kuroi's story. we'll see if he wants to post it here. It's very samurai-ish.


Blade rang against blade; blue and red sparks flashing, illuminating the dim corridor in which the nightmarish battle took place. Twin streaks of darkness clashed as Shura pitted his skill against Katherine’s speed and strength.

The vampire leapt away from Kervast’s blow. The mercenary was getting used to its speed and would offer no further opportunities for it to take the offensive. He strode forwards, planting his lead foot heavily, and swung again. This time, a grin of satisfaction lit his grizzled face as the sword connected, shearing off the vampire’s arm.

Blood spurted from the wound; drenching Kervast a ghastly crimson as the creature screamed and trashed its stump about. Kervast brought his sword back for another blow but the vampire turned and fled, barging aside any mercenaries that stood in its way. A look of horror came upon Kervast’s face as he realized that the vampire was heading towards the guardroom that housed the lever of the citadel’s drawbridge. He charged after the creature, bellowing obscenities at its lithe form.

The mercenary guarding the lever gritted his teeth and thrust his halberd at the charging vampire. It sidestepped the blow, grasped the mercenary’s throat with its remaining arm, and tore out his windpipe in one clean, fluid motion. The vampire dashed towards the lever as the mercenary drowned in his own blood. A pallid claw laid itself on the lever.

Kervast caught up with the vampire and raised his sword above his head in readiness for a final crushing strike. The lever went down and snapped as the vampire pulled it beyond its limits. The complex gears of the Cypher citadel cranked its response and the drawbridge fell, spanning the moat beyond the walls. The portcullis raised itself foot by foot as a series of counterweights were pulled into their respective niches. The mercenaries flinched in horror as the darkness beyond was suddenly lit by a thousand red, gleaming orcish eyes. With a unified howl of bloodlust and glee, they fell upon the mercenaries.

Kervast sliced the vampire in half from head to crotch and blinked in surprise as the creature crumbled to dust. He swore vehemently.

“ Rally! Assume your formations and destroy the enemy! Do not allow them to gain ground!” He yelled to his troops as he strode to the front line, his sword cutting a devastating swathe in the orcish ranks.


“ My lord!” Elle screamed as she entered Duke Cypher’s chambers. The demonic duke lay prostrate on the floor, writhing in agony. Two forms wreathed in darkness stood passively beside him, holding weapons that were drenched to the hilt in demonic blood.

“ By the gods!” Zheng Long gasped. All the Dementia Fiends had been slain, apparently by the two vampires. Elle pushed past him and ran towards them, drawing her short sword as she did so. The undead creatures directed amused looks at the distraught battle-mage.

“ Die!” Bolts of fire streaked from her fingers towards the vampires. They exploded into a blur of motion, avoiding the flaming projectiles easily and dashing towards Elle. One of them thrust a wickedly barbed short spear towards her face but it was deflected by a flashing katana. Kuroi brought his sword around and parried the other vampire’s strike with a small but sharp pick. He swept his katana in a low arc and lopped off the creature’s feet at the ankles and cut a deep gash into the chest with a backhand blow. The two vampires screamed and fell back, clutching their wounds. Kuroi flicked the blood off his sword with a deft motion of his wrist and brought it back to a ready position. Elle and Zheng Long watched the display with awe written all over their faces. Shura was a mighty swordsman but he lacked Kuroi’s fluidity and smoothness of motion.

Kuroi smiled grimly. His heart was already pounding and sweat drenched his tunic. His armor weighed heavily on his skinny shoulders and it was all he could do to keep himself from panting heavily. The Blade of Harmony extracted as much of a physical toll on its wielder as the Shura Sword. Nevertheless, he advanced on the cowering vampires menacingly.


Shura snapped the orcish blade sideways to pick off a thrust from Frost Spike and retaliated with his wakizashi, directing a slash towards Katherine’s face. Flame Nail caught the shorter sword and pushed it aside. Katherine brought her head forward in an attempt to flatten Shura’s nose but the swordsman kicked upwards, his foot connecting solidly with her chin. The blow knocked the vampire backwards but otherwise did little harm. Shura glided forward in a bid to end the fight early. The orcish blade streaked towards Katherine’s neck and connected. The point failed to dig in, however, and Shura’s eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

“ Mortal weapons can no longer hurt me, Shura. Have you forgotten?” Katherine sneered. Her twin blades made crossing arcs. Shura had to leap backwards to avoid the formidable weapons. The vampire smiled and sheathed Flame Nail. She then proceeded to remove one of her leather gloves and tuck it into her leather suit.

“ Creatures of Negative Energy, vampires do not tire, do not sicken, and do not age. Great strength, speed and regeneration are bestowed upon us as long as we feed on human blood.” Katherine smirked. “ We are invincible. I am invincible.”

You are a soulless monster.” Shura retorted.

“ Oh? And are you any better?” Katherine shot back. “ Thousands have perished under your blades. Benevolent lords, glorious heroes, countless others. By your actions, a mortal fiend has manifested his might upon this world. All of existence shall fall to his will sooner or later and darkness shall enshroud everything, thanks to you!”

“ Silence!” Shura surged forward again, bitterness and frustration evident on his face.

“ Let me show you another of the benefits that are accorded to one of my kind, Shura.” Katherine’s exposed hand turned a pale, cadaverous blue. She parried Shura’s jagged sword and grasped his forearm, feeling her fingers sink into his flesh.

The warmth drained from Shura’s body and he gasped in shock. It was as if his life force was being drained. The orcish blade fell from his grasp to clatter hollowly on the floor. Katherine did not relent her grip. She smiled into Shura’s agonized expression.

“ Instead of feeding on blood, a vampire can opt to destroy a mortal’s life force by channeling negative energy into his system.” Katherine explained. “ Does it feel good, Shura?” She screamed as the swordsman stabbed her in the abdomen with a psionically-empowered wakizashi. The vampire staggered backwards.

“ Does that feel good?” Shura snarled in reply. His face was pale and he fell to his knees, gasping shallowly.

“ Damn you, Shura. I should never have underestimated you!” Katherine growled through clenched fangs. She pulled herself to her feet, seeking handholds on the cracks of the walls. Bloody smears marked her touch. Shura did likewise, holding his shorter sword before him menacingly. Katherine suddenly sniffed the air. She grinned. Sheathing Frost Spike, the vampire turned her back and started walking away. Shura started in puzzlement for a moment, then he yelled at her retreating figure.

“ Our battle is not done yet! Come back!” The swordsman ran forward as he spoke, readying his weapon. Katherine merely turned her head and laughed horribly. Shura’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw another form materialize from the shadows to intercept his charge. A hand axe flashed towards his neck and Shura barely managed to block the blow, so quick it was. A kick to swordsman’s midsection sent him flying ten feet down the corridor, where he landed heavily, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth.

“ I have no more time to waste on you, Shura. My companion here will entertain you, will you not, Jaroem?” Katherine patted the other vampire’s face fondly. Jaroem bared his fangs in a snarl of agreement.

“ Jaroem?” Shura gasped. “ You’re…you’re Jo-annia’s…” He broke off into a coughing fit, blood spraying from his mouth. Two of his ribs have been broken by Jaroem’s kick.

“ Correct! Jaroem replied. “ I am Jo-annia’s true love!” He jerked his other arm, pulling another figure into the revelation accorded by the illumination of the corridor lamps.

“ Shura!” Jo-annia cried, as she struggled vainly in Jaroem’s iron grip. Katherine smiled again.

“ Well then, I shall leave you lot to catch up.” She broke off into echoing peals of laughter as she turned and ran off into the shadows. Shura gritted his teeth and leapt to his feet. He started waling towards Jaroem. The vampire pulled Jo-annia in close and wrapped a pallid hand over her neck. The woman’s face went pale with horror.

“ If you force me to kill her, I shall merely bring her back as one of y kind, Shura.” He said coldly. The statement halted the swordsman in his tracks. Seeing the effect his words had on Shura, Jaroem grinned in delight. “ Now, drop the sword.”

“ Shura, do not!” Jo-annia implored him. Her voice was still strong despite her fear and the swordsman could not help but feel the utmost admiration for her. He released his grip on his wakizashi and it fell heavily to the floor. Jaroem laughed, and tucked his axe into his belt. Shoving Jo-annia aside roughly, he advanced on the unarmed swordsman. A heavy punch floored Shura. Jo-annia screamed in horror and rushed forward in an attempt to stop the fight but Jaroem backhanded her viciously, sending her flying to land unconscious on the floor. Shura snarled in anger and scrabbled for his wakizashi but the vampire intercepted him easily and lifted him by the collar of his cloak.

“ Now…now…we don’t want you playing with such dangerous knives, do we?” Jaroem asked. Shura struggled in his grasp, helpless against his superior strength. The swordsman lashed out with blow after blow at the vampire’s nerve centers, to no effect. Jaroem laughed once and flung Shura out of one of the wide windows along the corridor.

Shura suppressed a strangled gasp as he felt his body fly out into open space. He pulled out a dagger from his shoulder sheath and jammed it into a crack into the stone wall. A puff of air made him look up, however, as Jaroem leapt out after him. The vampire slammed his boots into Shura’s chest and the dagger broke under their combined weight. Vampire and swordsman fell heavily into a secluded part of he citadel’s courtyard.


Jaroem got up and dusted himself off. Shura lay in a pool of blood some distance away. He laughed at the sight.

“ This is the legendary Shura? If he is the pinnacle of all of humanity’s warriors, then we vampires must be superior indeed!” Jaroem howled with glee. His delight broke off, however, as a broken dagger lodged itself in his shoulder. Shura grinned from his kneeling position. Evidently, the daggers that Elle had given him were blessed weapons. He spun his remaining two daggers from their sheaths and assumed a combat stance. Or rather, he tried to. A sharp searing pain lanced through Shura’s body and he staggered. The fall had done much to aggravate his broken ribs.

Jaroem did not miss the opportunity. He dashed forwards and kicked the daggers out of Shura’s hands. An elbow to the face blasted Shura to the ground and Jaroem’s boot met his falling form and kicked him once more into the air. The swordsman crashed into a wall and Jaroem leapt after him. Shura’s body fell free but the vampire punned him to the wall with yet another kick. In the moment that they were suspended in mid-air, Jaroem clobbered Shura with his powerful fists again and again. The vampire twisted his body and sent Shura’s form crashing into the ground again with his falling heel.

Shura snarled and tried to get to his feet but Jaroem picked him up by his collar again. The vampire flung him into the wall, which he slid off of, leaving a trail of blood.

“ So I’m the stronger one after all.” Jaroem said. “ Am I not wrong to say that Jo-annia belongs to me?” Shura spat a mouthful of blood up and tried to pick himself up.

“ You are covetous and insane, vampire.” Shura failed, and slumped to the ground again. “ She belongs to no one but herself. And you are going to die!” The swordsman surged to his feet only to scream in agony as Jaroem flung a dagger into his thigh.

“ That belongs to you, swordsman.” The vampire pulled his hand axe free from his belt. He raised the weapon over his head. “ And so does this!”

“ Shura!” Jo-annia’s voice rang out through the courtyard. She ran out from a stairwell towards the combatants. Jaroem froze for a moment and Shura streaked forward, his dagger flashing towards the vampire’s throat. Jaroem was the quicker though. He ha Jo-annia pinned to his body in a flash and Shura’s dagger halted a hair’s breadth away from her delicate throat.

Jaroem’s hand axe snapped a deep gash into Shura’s chest and he staggered backwards. He growled in frustration. His vision was becoming red-rimmed as he lost control of his mastery of the Blade of Harmony. Shura’s mounting anger denied him access to Kuroi’s discipline. The familiar rage of the Shura Sword crept into his consciousness.

“ See? Once I kill him, none shall come between us, my love.” Jaroem spoke into Jo-annia’s ear.

“ What happened to you?” She asked. “ Where is the Jaroem who was the stout hearted and brave defender of the people?” The vampire laughed bitterly.

“ That existence was a lie!” He snarled. “ Only power is the truth!” And I am power!” Jaroem dropped his axe and seized Jo-annia’s hair. He pulled her head sideways and grinned at Shura.

“ Be honored, swordsman. You get to witness the consummation of my love with Jo-annia!” He said. Baring his fangs, he sank them into her throat.

A scream burst from Shura’s being into his consciousness, an exhortation of insane bloodlust and anger that drowned out all else.


Kervast’s mercenaries were formidable indeed. Outnumbered, taken by surprise, a lesser force would have been wiped out immediately. Instead, they rallied and pushed back the orcs. The fighting now took place mostly on the drawbridge and on some areas of the walls.

“ We can only hold them for so long, sir. Without the protection of the walls and portcullis, we will be overwhelmed eventually!” A mercenary reported to Kervast.

“ Barricade the main gate with whatever you have at hand!” Kervast barked. He raised his huge sword. “ Death to the green-skinned scum!” He roared. The mercenaries took up his cry and fought with a greater fervor, their halberd formations slicing orcs apart.


Kuroi parried a simultaneous strike from both Frost Spike and Flame Nail with a single block. His counter stroke had Katherine leaping backward in an attempt to avoid it. The vampire landed lightly and gestured to her two companions. They rallied to her side, their wounds healed in the time that Katherine had bought for them by battling Kuroi.

“ You’re good, old man, but can you take on three vampires at once?” She snarled, raising her elemental blades again. Kuroi merely brought his blade into his customary battle stance and spoke a single word.

“ Two.”

Katherine’s guts spilled out from a cut in her abdomen. The vampire screamed an unearthly scream of agony and fell to her knees, clutching her ghastly wound. She had avoided the old swordsman’s blow cleanly! Why was she so grievously wounded? Katherine’s skill in weapons equaled Shura’s during the time when they both served Blackmire. She was the real leader of the Ravagers, whereas Shura was merely their trainer. Indeed, her brother had sent her instead of Shura out on assassination missions many times. Katherine refused to believe that any individual in this world could rival her skill besides Shura.

The old swordsman advanced relentlessly. Katherine was an expert swordswoman, quick, skilled and precise. What she lacked in caution, she made up for in aggression and viciousness. The vampire painted a perfect picture of what Shura would become if he ever lost himself to his rage. Desiring blood for the sheer sake of blood itself, quenching blades in agonized flesh, Katherine was the anti-thesis of all that Kuroi stood for. Like Shura, the vampire could not decipher the intricacies of the Blade of Harmony at first. With her feral and bloodthirsty tendencies, Kuroi doubted she ever would.

Katherine barked a command and the other two vampires pulled out the Swords of Law from the duke’s quivering form. The demon lord surged to his feet immediately. He bellowed in agony and outrage. Kuroi’s frowned. He had not anticipated such a move.

“ His mind is almost gone, I think. I wish you much enjoyment in battling a demon!” Katherine smirked. The three vampires leapt towards a high window and escaped through it. Weighed down by his heavy armor, Kuroi did not pursue. He had a more pressing matter and deadlier opponent on his hands at the moment. The duke’s face swam and twisted in the facial cavity of the demonic body. His features appeared once, contorted in agony, then faded forever. A new face took its place. Powerful, cruel, yet beautiful to behold, Asmodeus gazed upon the form of his former nemesis, Kuroi Itezeru.

“ Cypher!” Elle screamed. She rushed forward but Zheng Long caught her. The warrior monk kept his grip on his companion firm despite the fact that he was almost cowering with terror.

“ Our lord is gone, Elle! He is no more!” Zheng Long managed to say through chattering jaws.

“ No! I must go to him…!” Her protests broke off as the demon spoke, confirming her worst fears.

“ Black Crow.” Asmodeus’s voice was ethereal and musical. “ How much agony do I owe you, samurai?”

“ Your shade was attracted by the bared presence of your essence shard, I see. “ Kuroi reasoned, trying to keep the apprehension that he felt at confronting the demon lord again out of his voice. “ No matter, oblivion awaits you once more!”

“ Big words, samurai. You have aged. Attucks, Korlhar and Kusanagi are no longer by your side. Have they died of old age?” Asmodeus mocked him. “ Torment awaits you, old man.”

“ Big words, demon.” Kuroi tossed the demon lord’s speech back at him. You are not at your full strength. I shall be sufficient to send you back into the coldness and emptiness of limbo.”

“ You and what army? The shivering little boy hiding behind the skirt of that inept spell-slinging girl? Your taste in allies has not improved, samurai.” Asmodeus pointed at the pair. Zheng Long yelped in fear and tears rolled down Elle’s cheeks as she realized that her foster father was gone.

“ They are more worthy beings than you can ever aspire to be, Asmodeus.” Kuroi said quietly. “ Now enough talk! Do your worst, demon!”

“ Indeed!” Asmodeus raised his claws and fire spurted from his palms.


A dark armored form burst through the ranks of Kervast’s mercenaries. From his lance hung the skewered bodies of two hapless warriors that sought to obstruct him.

“ All glory to Blackmire!” Hacos screamed. His eyes glowed with an insane fervor from deep within the dark recesses of his helm as he led his charge. Kervast stood in his way, brandishing his sword and yelling challenges. Hacos spurred his mount to meet him and directed his lance towards the mercenary’s throat. They clashed with a terrific sound of steel ringing upon steel. Kervast’s sword broke into half along the blade but Hacos’s lance was shattered utterly and blood spurted from a deep cut in the Blackguard’s side. Hacos did not turn around to attack the mercenary again. Instead, he galloped into the interior of the citadel, his senses leading him towards the great concentration of negative energy that marked Asmodeus’s presence.

“ Damn you! Come back and fight!” Kervast growled at his back. He unhooked his heavy mace but found himself surrounded by orcs. Yelling a battle cry, he smashed in one of their ugly heads.


The pupil stood beside Shura. Around them, the bodies of seventy fully armored samurai littered the ground. Shura flicked the blood of his katana, a futile gesture as he was covered in crimson gore from head to toe.

“ That was the pinnacle of my craft: The Thousand Blades of Hatred, Shura Messattsu Ranken!” Shura proclaimed. “ Though its complete form is beyond my reach due to my inaptitude in the Second Sphere, its power is still amazing!” He turned to regard his pupil.

“ Immerse yourself in your rage, weakling. Keep your hate chained on a leash of pure will. Once your sword has drunk enough blood, it will be fueled by your hatred and you shall gain enlightenment.” Shura patted himself on his broad chest. “ Like me!” The pupil bowed and Shura laughed wildly, his mirth echoing over the mountain of corpses that he had just built.

Shura’s mind returned from the past. He had a single dagger in his grasp but by following his sensei’s instructions, he felt that he could somehow harness the rage within his being to attain…a new level of understanding and mastery of his craft.

“ Three Spheres as one!” Shura repeated the most basic thing he recalled about the ultimate technique of the Shura Sword under his breath. He drew upon his ki and mental powers simultaneously. Blood started to flow from his ears and minute veins around his eyes burst as he called for resources beyond his bodily limit. “ Shura…Messattsu…”

Jaroem drank greedily of Jo-annia’s blood. The sight awakened a level of hatred within him that he had never felt before. He forced the emotion into the core of his consciousness, using it to fuel his concentration.

The vampire’s sudden agonized cry broke his reverie of hatred, however. Jaroem withdrew his fangs and stumbled backwards, clutching his throat. Jo-annia fell to the floor and gasped. Apart from a slight loss of blood, she seemed to be unharmed.

“ The…the blood of a Celestial!” Jaroem screamed, smoke emanating from his mouth. The vampire gagged and fell, writhing in agony. Jo-annia got to her feet and ran to Shura’s side. The dagger clattered to the floor, utterly forgotten along with any of his sensei’s teachings as Shura embraced her in relief.

Jaroem screamed in agony again as his limbs burst into flame. His legs disintegrated rapidly and one arm soon followed. His remaining hand clawed uselessly on the cold floor and he raised his gaze to regard the pair, defeat and despair evident in his eyes.

“ I looked everywhere for you, Jo-annia, when the Church attacked.” The vampire gasped. “ But you were nowhere to be found! I witnessed all our friends being murdered by the Church. Botas, Eckels and Merk…you remember them, don’t you?” Jo-annia nodded, sobbing in sorrow. They had been her childhood friends. She disengaged herself from Shura to stand before Jaroem.

“ What about you? What happened to you, dear friend?” Jo-annia picked up one of Jaroem’s icy hands and clutched it tightly, trying to offer what comfort she could to the wretched creature.

“ A Church Knight stabbed me in the kidney. I suffered the agony of the wound for many hours before she appeared!” A look of awe came across the vampire’s face. “ She offered me power and revenge. I accepted! The Church of the Celestial Knight shall pay for my sorrow and pain!” He roared suddenly, baring his fangs at the uncaring night sky. Jo-annia flinched, but she did not release his hand. She held it tightly until the vampire regained his composure once more.

“ Lady Katherine turned me into what I am. Since then, I have lived an un-life of slaughter and carnage.” He said softly, almost piteously.

“ Oh, Jaroem, how you must have suffered. I should have asked you along when I left.” Jo-annia said. Shura winced guiltily at the statement. The former militiaman had been left behind because of Shura’s covetousness towards Jo-annia, a quality that the swordsman did not dare to admit to himself.

“ All the while, I have never forgotten about you.” Jaroem said. His eyes had lost that feral look. For a moment, he seemed almost human again. A slight grin creased his pallid face. “ I should have known that you were of angelic descent. Your beauty is unmatched.”

Jo-annia broke down into sobs, clutching the hand of her friend tightly. Shura finally understood why she was able to look upon the spell scroll with little ill effect. Obviously her angelic blood granted her qualities beyond her peers.

“ Beautiful in body…and heart as well…” Jaroem muttered. His face suddenly hardened. “ What a perfect companion I shall have on my journey to hell!” His remaining hand turned a pale blue and he pressed it against Jo-annia’s chest, channeling negative energy into her. She gasped and went into convulsions as the vampire laughed his delight.

Shura severed Jaroem’s head with his own hand axe, the enchanted blade biting deeply into undead flesh with ease. He kicked the cadaver aside and it crumbled to dust in mid-air. Dropping the weapon, he knelt beside Jo-annia’s unconscious form. He knew first hand the effects of negative energy and realized that Jo-annia, unlike him, could not survive such an attack. Her pulse was weak and her flesh grew colder by the moment. Tearing off his cloak, the swordsman wrapped Jo-annia in it. He knew it to be a futile gesture and he almost cried out in frustration. What would he do if Jo-annia opened her eyes again after her heart had stopped and bared her fangs at him? Jaroem’s hand axe glinted in the moonlight, hinting a terrible solution to Shura’s dilemma.

He delved into his memories, searching for a single scrap of information amidst the countless books that he had read and memorized that might help. Shura considered the channeling of negative energy. If an undead creature could channel its own negative energy, might not a living creature do the same with positive energy? He considered the way Katherine had attacked him and with a nod of his head, drew upon his life force, a resource that came to him even less readily than his ki. He clutched Jo-annia’s hand and started siphoning off his own life force into her. The effect was startling. The color returned immediately to Jo-annia’s flesh and her pulse strengthened.

Shura felt himself draining away but he ignored the chill that had suddenly spread through his body. Jo-annia was still unconscious. Closing his eyes, the swordsman willed the stream of positive energy to flow more strongly. Shura grew close to death, but he chose to remain oblivious to the fact. A gentle hand laid itself across his cheek and Shura opened his eyes. Jo-annia now returned his gaze but the golden orbs that were locked with Shura’s dark ones did not belong to the woman.

“ Enough, mortal, lest you crumble to dust. This frame is sufficiently rejuvenated.” Jo-annia spoke in an unearthly and hauntingly beautiful voice. Shura released her hand, a look of curiosity evident on his face. “ Are you a paladin, to be able to channel positive energy so?”

Shura shook his head in response. What was happening? Jo-annia was behaving like she did not know him!

“ Shura, that is your name, is it not? I took a moment to access my descendant’s memories and emotions.” Jo-annia got to her feet, helping Shura up with surprising strength in her slender limbs.

“ Descendant? What…?” Shura was absolutely mystified.

“ I am the angel, Deis. More than a millennia ago, I bore a mortal three children. My consciousness lies dormant within their blood.” Deis explained. “ Your life force awakened me.”

“ Deis! The patron angel of Cypher!” Shura exclaimed. The angel scanned her surroundings and laughed softly, a tinkling of wind chimes in a soft evening breeze.

“ We are in Cypher lands! How small the planes of existence truly are!” She said. Shura did not share her amusement, however.

“ Where is Jo-annia?” He demanded. The angel directed a curious and slightly disapproving look at the swordsman for his curt tone that softened into a warm smile.

“ Worry not for you friend, Shura. Soon, my will shall fade and she will return.” Deis replied. She swept her gaze over Shura’s many wounds and his worried expression. “ You love her, do you not?”

The straightforward question caught him off guard but Shura regained his composure rapidly.

“ Nonsense! I have passion for nothing besides my craft!” He replied.

“ Your words fail to hide your heart from all but the dimmest individual, Shura. “ Deis chuckled. “ Jo-annia bears you great affection, you know.” The swordsman scoffed at that.

“ Then it would not hurt you to know that you are but a treasured friend to her, then.” Deis said. Shura fell silent, his face a mask of neutrality. “ Her heart lies with an individual name Feros.”

“ And all the best of luck to them!” Shura laughed. He failed to keep the note of pain out of his mirth, however.

“ A stubborn man, Shura. I can see into your soul. It is a dark one but the darkness is one bereft of evil’s taint. You are not unworthy of her.” Deis chided him. Shura raised his hands, palms up.

“ How many have I killed, angel? Hundreds, a thousand? I have lost count long ago!” Shura was shouting now but he could not help himself. “ Even the blood of one of your kind stains my hands! And you speak to me of worthiness? Jo-annia does not need a murderer in her life. Feros was right, thought I took such a long time to realize that. When all this is over, I shall disappear from her presence forever. “ Shura’s tone lowered itself as he concluded his outburst.

Deis looked upon the tormented swordsman with a mixture of pity and compassion in her gaze. She wrapped her arms around him.

“ No one is beyond redemption, Shura. And you do not need the judgment of any deity to redeem yourself. Most mortals are unaware that their destiny lies in their own hands. Your past will cease to haunt you if you cease to haunt it.” Deis whispered in his ear. Shura lowered his head and chuckled bitterly.

“ My thanks for your words, angel.” He said. “ I shall think upon them.” The angel moved her face towards Shura’s but he placed a blocking forearm between the two of them, disengaging himself from her embrace.

“ You are not her. I shall accept no such comfort.” Deis appeared shocked at Shura’s rejection for a moment, then she laughed.

“ A noble soul indeed. It is her loss, then.” Deis laughed again and closed her eyes. When they opened again, Jo-annia looked upon the world through her rich, brown eyes.

“ Shura? What happened? Where is Jaroem?” She asked.

“ I killed him.” Shura replied, more harshly than he intended to. Jo-annia flinched at his tone.

“ Father! Feros!” She exclaimed suddenly. “ I must go and check on them!” Jo-annia picked up the hem of her long dress and started off in a run. She paused for a moment to regard Shura with a worried look.

“ Will you be alright, Shura?” She asked. “ Jaroem is in a better place now, I’m sure, so do not feel so bad about what you had to do.” Shura nodded and gestured for her to go on. “ Be careful, Shura. “ Jo-annia added, before running off.

The swordsman looked up into the night sky. Without her presence, the malevolence and hostility directed towards the inhabitants of the Cypher citadel screamed at his senses. He ran off to retrieve his wakizashi.