Chapter 2 – Mm Whatcha Say?

  Nyx woke up to the sound of sobbing.

  As she opened her eyes, she was met with the view of an unfamiliar ceiling.

  For one thing, it was much, much higher and more ornate than that of her family’s estate, to say nothing of the tavern ceilings that she had become accustomed to in her year of travels.

  Straining to turn her head towards the crying, Nyx realized that it was incredibly difficult and painful. Much more than it should ever be.

  Panic began to set in her muddled mind before her memories burst forth.

  ‘Right.’

  She lost.

  She lost against a prisoner.

  ‘How embarrassing.’

  The duel replayed in her head like a moving picture.

  It was a beautiful day like any other. The crisp, cool fall air wrapped around her like a welcoming hug.

  She remembered feeling a sense of nostalgia – even though it had only been a year since she left, Nyx missed the capital, her home town, dearly.

  The quiet of the country side and wilderness, where she spent most of her travels, were nice, of course. A peaceful respite from the obligations that plagued her.

  But the sound of a boisterous city, especially one on the scale of Belgrade, the Alliance’s capital city, and where nearly 1 million souls called home, too, had its charms.

  And no where was that sound more prevalent than in the Colosseum.

  She was there to take part in a Freedom Duel, something her manager (yes, sword masters generally had one or two managers who managed their social obligations – being one of the Alliance’s rising stars came with its pros and cons) had lined up for the day.

  From her understanding, Freedom Duels were infrequent due to their notoriety.

  The vast majority of prisoners would rather spend their days working for the prison and praying for a chance at parole than rush to their deaths.

  So, when one was scheduled there usually is a big turn out.

  Still, this particular duel broke all previous records – thousands rushed to fill the Colosseum seats and hundreds more were standing around the perimeter, hoping to catch a glimpse. Nyx’s participation and the fact that her opponent was a traitor of the Alliance, someone who was charged with the egregious crime of helping Alan Wakeforest, the hero-turned-fugitive wanted for the crime of colluding with the “Dread” and misleading the public.

  The “Dread” described those devil-like monsters that descended from the stars all those years ago and, until very recently, laid havoc across not only the Alliance, but the entire continent.

  Little is known about the Dread and their motives other than the fact that they numbered in the millions and had a penchant for human flesh and fiery destruction.

  Countless lives have been lost in the fight against the Dread and scores of cities have fallen to permanent ruin.

  To keep a long story short, 5 years ago, Alan Wakeforest, a young master mage who excelled in space time magic, and who hailed from the Alliance, and his team of like-minded and equally talented individuals, managed to deal a massive blow against the Dread that saw the monsters retreat back to the stars for the first time since their sudden invasion nearly 60 years prior.

  It was a victory like no other and the entire continent celebrated their second lease at life.

  Alan Wakeforest and his team were naturally hailed as heroes.

  But that all changed nearly one year ago when it was discovered that Alan had been compromised by the Dread early on, had been working with them, and that the supposed victory he achieved was nothing more than a fa?ade.

  Investigators are still working on finding out why the Dread would wish to fake their defeat.

  A warrant was issued for his arrest and he fled the capital.

  His escape from the capital saw the death of hundreds of soldiers.

  The prisoner who requested the Freedom Duel, and the one that she was to execute, was the person who helped Alan escape the Alliance’s “Inescapable Net,” a formation that trapped its intended target within an ever-shrinking radius.

  When executed correctly, it was impossible to escape. Not without outside help, at least.

  The Inescapable Net was deployed at the northern reaches of the Alliance, near a small village named Ashton, which incidentally shared a border with the neutral country of Phalia, whose citizenry were made up of werehumans.

  Just when the Alliance was about to capture him, Alan disappeared without a trace. It is believed that someone deliberately altered the flow of the Inescapable Net, causing a blind spot that Alan took obvious advantage of.

  That “someone,” it was later discovered, was none other than Oliver Greene, an old friend of Alan’s and a sword instructor at the village’s only academy.

  It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the entire continent hated the Dread and extended that same hate to anyone who was found to be in cahoots with those devils.

  Suffice it to say, Alan and Oliver were not well liked.

  Nyx was never into the whole execution business and rarely did she want to involve herself with a criminal. These sentiments rang true even when the prisoner in question was such a traitor.

  But, her manager had made a compelling argument – the publicity from this one duel would allow her to focus on her training for at least another half year without the interruption of balls, plays, exhibition matches, etc.

  To Nyx, it was a deal too good to pass up.

  Thus, she found herself standing across from Oliver Greene.

  She remembered how scrawny he looked, like he hadn’t eaten or had a good night sleep in weeks.

  Which came to no surprise, she thought, as it was common knowledge what the prison did to those who requested such duels.

  Still, despite his emancipated frame, his pale green eyes were clear and resolute. So much so that she found herself staring into them for longer than she intended.

  Tearing her eyes away, she focused on the face of the man. He had medium length blonde hair that was tied in a messy bun, sharp features, a well-defined jawline, and full red lips.

  Honestly, as a woman, she had to admit that he was quite good-looking, or at least he would be if he cleaned up and had a good meal and a better night of sleep.

  She remembered Oliver unsheathing his sword and getting into position.

  She remembered that his opening stance was quite good. Solid, like someone who had practiced the move thousands of times before.

  This also, did not come as a surprise – Oliver’s file had him down as a sword intermediary, 5th class.

  While his level was not high, it was not low either. She expected this much from him, at the least.

  When the announcer began the fight, she charged at Oliver with a thrust, using about 10% of her strength. She did not think it would take more than that to take down the man before her.

  Yet, contrary to her expectations, Oliver easily parried the strike by diverting the momentum and even countered with an elbow strike to her chin.

  Of course, the attack did not hit as she immediately leaned back and kicked her leading leg forward, the kick landing squarely against Oliver’s side and sending him sliding backwards.

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  The kick was actually meant to send Oliver flying, but, again, he managed to stop the full momentum of the kick.

  She remembered thinking that something was off, but continued fighting anyways.

  The two then exchanged tens of blows, with each exchange leaving her with a feeling of incongruity.

  The duel progressed for several more moves, but unlike the first couple set of tens, the latter sets saw her on the losing end.

  That’s right, she, the 21-year-old prodigy sword master who everyone believed would one day attain the title of Sword God, was being pushed back by a sword intermediary 5th class who looked half dead as is.

  Shocked to her core and blinded by her pride, she decided to end the duel once and for all.

  Taking a step back, she started channeling her aura. Her next and final attack was going to be different from her previous ones – where her earlier strikes were regular attacks that showcased her mastery of the sword, her next would be backed by her aura and would bring to bare her realization of the “Path.”

  Lightning arcs surged throughout her body before focusing onto the blade of her prized sword, Gallica.

  While this was happening, the man who had forced her to display such skill looked onward, his pale green eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing in his world.

  The next moment, she rushed forward in a flash of lightning, her sword raised overhead, intent on cutting down the opponent before her.

  Only, the downward strike was a feint. The real attack would come from the left, faster than the eye can see. Practically instantaneous, really.

  ‘Its over!’

  But those eyes never left her.

  He was too calm.

  And the next thing she knew, she was on her knees, gasping for breath and clutching at her bleeding neck.

  When she looked up, those eyes were no longer fixed on her. She could only see the back of his head.

  She tried to call for him. She tried to get him to turn around.

  She wanted to know what he saw.

  She needed to know what he saw, even if it meant her death.

  But, alas, she could not utter a sound, and before long, the world turned dark. Just as everything was fading, however, her survival instincts kicked in and she gathered all her aura towards the wound across her neck and sealed off all the pressure points, stopping the bleeding immediately.

  Right as she finished, all consciousness left her body.

  ‘How utterly embarrassing.’

  Nyx felt miserable. To be forced to use her aura and still lose ….

  ‘What did he see…?’

  While she was in her own world, the crying next to her stopped, replaced by a gasp and followed by an even louder cry.

  “Nyx! My baby!! You’re awake!”

  *Sob*

  Nyx recognized the voice right away and before she could do anything, she felt the weight of her mother on top of her.

  Nyx tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat felt like hell.

  ‘Ah. Right.’

  Oliver had cut her neck.

  ‘I can’t believe I survived.’

  While her mother was on top of her crying and screaming incoherent words, the sound of a door slamming open rang through the large room.

  “Nyx! Honey!!”

  ‘Father.’

  The person who so unceremoniously entered the room was none other than Nyx’s father, Margrave Bradley Carrian.

  “Brad! Our baby is okay! Brad! Look, she’s awake!!”

  Nyx’s mother, Susan Carrian, shouted as she pulled away from her daughter to look up at her husband.

  “My baby!!!”

  Now both parents were hugging Nyx, one on either side. She could feel the wetness from their tears on her clothes.

  ‘Uhm. I know I should feel happy, but … oh well, I guess I did almost die, after all.’

  Realizing that her parents needed to express their feelings, Nyx gave them all the time they needed.

  Nearly 30 minutes of crying later.

  *Cough cough*

  “Alright sweetie, let’s give our daughter some space.”

  Nyx’s father, Bradley said, as he pulled away from his vice grip like hug.

  Following her father’s suggestion, her mother, too, pulled away.

  “Oh baby. You don’t know how scared we were when we saw you fall down. Your father was so stricken with shock that he literally blacked out!”

  “Hey! I mean … ahem. It was only out for like a second. Ahem.”

  “Okay, dear. If you say so,” Susan said with a small giggle.

  It looked the two were feeling better now.

  “Oh, and Sir Reginald said that it would take a few more days before you’re able to speak. Your vocal cords were badly damaged,” Susan continued.

  Sir Leon Reginald was the Alliance’s top physician and healer – as master mage at the 7th class and who specialized in healing magic, Sir Reginald had few peers in the field.

  If such a man said it would take a couple of days, then a couple of days it will take.

  Nyx nodded.

  “He also wanted to thank you for making his job easier – had you not stopped the bleeding in that split second, it would’ve been much harder to treat your wounds.”

  Again, Nyx nodded.

  “Ugh. Don’t bring that up again, Susan. Its been three days but every time I remember that scene, my blood just boils. I would’ve already wringed that traitorous neck if the Governor and leadership board didn’t stop me,” Bradley grumbled, his facial expression darkening.

  Nyx’s mother immediately grabbed her father’s hand,

  “Dear, you need to stay clam. Jacob and the rest of them know what their doing. That traitor will get what’s coming to him and our Nyx will be avenged.”

  Hearing her parents, a million thoughts rushed through Nyx’s mind.

  ‘Its been three days? I’ve been unconscious for three days?!’

  ‘And what’s this about Oliver? Didn’t he win … surely he did. No. Wait. I’m still alive.’

  The only way to win a Freedom Duel is to kill your opponent/executioner.

  Nyx did not get to where she was today simply because she was good at swinging a sword. She was smart, unbelievably so, and everything that went through Oliver’s mind when he was speaking with the Warden also played out in hers.

  ‘No. I need to know what he saw!’

  It was with this desperation that she grabbed her parents’ hands and forced herself to say the next few words,

  “T—ak—e … m-e … ss—ee … ggg-g-ov---nor … nn-ow.”

  Her throat burned with each syllable.

  It has been three days since the Freedom Duel and contrary to Oliver’s thoughts, he was not rotting in a prison cell. Rather, he was currently living in a pretty nice room right next to the warden’s office.

  Well, it was more like her assistant’s office, but most of the office supplies and furniture had been either completely removed or pushed to the very corners of the room, to be replaced by one of the softest bed he ever had the pleasure of sleeping on.

  The prison guards, too, were being super nice to him and would take almost every request he made. He could eat whatever he wanted and even had access to a hot water.

  Suffice it to say that he no longer looked like your common ghoul.

  The only one they denied was when he tried asking them to let him leave.

  His stay was so pleasant, in fact, that it left a pit in his stomach. The kind you get when you just know something bad was coming despite only good things happening around you.

  Just as he was contemplating his fate, a knock came from the door to his room.

  *knock knock*

  Sitting up from his bed, Oliver turned to the door,

  “Come in.”

  A second later, the door opened to one of the many prison guards.

  ‘I think his name was … Raymond?’

  “Pardon the intrusion, sir, but there are people here who want to meet you.”

  Oh yea, the guards have also been calling him “Sir” instead of their usual “piece of shit,” “dumb fuck,” and “traitorous bastard.” All said lovingly, of course.

  The last time he was called a “Sir” was more than a year ago and by his students.

  “Ah. Show them in …?”

  Oliver was still getting used to the change in dynamics.

  “As you wish,” the guard, Raymond, said as he stepped aside to let those behind him into the room.

  The first to enter was a well-dressed man who appeared to be in 50’s with short hair and a grey beard. He stood a little over 6ft tall and had a slightly bulky build. The wrinkles around his brown eyes spoke of all the things he had experienced in his life.

  Oliver recognized him immediately – the man was Belgrade’s Governor, Jacob Townsend, a sword master of the 7th class.

  The second person to enter was another man who looked to be in his 50’s as well, perhaps a little younger. He had less grey amongst his medium length brown hair than did Jacob, and his pale purple eyes were much sharper. He stood a head taller than the Governor and looked quite imposing in his noble garb. He was, by all accounts, a handsome man.

  Oliver did not recognize the imposing man, but it seemed like he knew him from the way those pale purple eyes radiated killing intent.

  The last to enter were two women. The first had beautiful auburn hair that was tied in a complicated and ornate looking braid that wrapped around her head. The hairstyle only served to elevate the woman’s regal appearance. The woman looked to be in her early 30’s but was probably in her 40’s as it was apparent that she and the imposing man were husband and wife from their body language and matching clothes.

  And just like her husband, the woman’s vibrant brown eyes were starring daggers at Oliver like she wanted to rip his throat out.

  ‘They’re definitely husband and wife.’

  What caught Oliver’s attention the most, however, was the second woman. She was being pushed in a wheelchair and was wrapped in blankets up to her neck.

  Oliver could not see much under the blankets, of course, but he did see her face, and it was a face he knew quite well.

  Like the woman pushing her, the girl had long beautiful auburn hair. Unlike the woman, however, her hair was left flowing past her shoulders. She had soft features, a slim jawline, big pale purple eyes that sparkled, full, light pink lips that parted ever so slightly, and delicate white skin.

  In terms of looks, the girl could definitely give the warden, Angela Creese, the most beautiful woman Oliver had ever seen, a run for her money.

  Looking at the girl in the wheelchair, who looked like a mix of the imposing man and regal looking woman, Oliver could not help but say her name and title out loud,

  “Nyx, the Sundering Blade, Carrian ….”

  She was indeed alive and well, just as he heard.

  Right after he said Nyx’s name out loud, the imposing man, who Oliver could only assume to be Nyx’s father, released a chilling aura that quite literally brought the room’s temperature down several degrees.

  The woman, who undoubtedly was the man’s wife and Nyx’s mother, also, released a similarly chilling aura.

  Oliver could tell immediately that the two were sword master and sword expert each and were of considerable strength.

  “Do not let me hear my daughter’s name come out of your mouth a second time, you traitorous scum, or I will personally string your head onto a pole.”

  The imposing man said through gritted teeth.

  “Bra—”

  Just as Jacob, the Governor, was about to say something to the man, Oliver saw Nyx push her wheelchair forward, running over her father’s foot with a satisfying crunch.

  Her father gave a muffled groan and looked at his daughter in shock and disbelief.

  Nyx glared back at her father, her eyes telling him to stop whatever he was doing. She also turned to look at her mother with the same eyes.

  The two immediately retracted their aura.

  ‘How scary …’ Oliver thought to himself.

  Only after making sure that her parents would not cause any more trouble, did Nyx push herself forward toward Oliver.

  It did not take long for the two to be in front of one another.

  Oliver could do nothing but stare at the woman before him.

  Nyx, too, only stared at the man before her.

  This continued for several minutes before Nyx broke eye contact and pulled out a pen and several sheet of papers.

  The room was silent as Nyx began writing.

  Looking at the other three visitors, Oliver could see that they, too, were confused and were wondering what Nyx was going to write/say.

  It didn’t take long to find out.

  Once she was done writing, Nyx looked back up at Oliver and, nodding her head once, showed him what she had written.

  On reflex, Oliver read the paper out loud,

  “Please accept me as your disciple.”

  Several gasps rang through the room.

  “Hmmmm …. Wait, what?”

  Oliver could not believe what he just read.