I was mortal.
And Kaos would be soon.
His final descendant was locked in a sword fight—of all mortal things—with another Mage, fury and heartache written on both their faces.
Kiss your immortality goodbye, brother. Then we shall see who is the stronger being.
With a snarl, I sent the remainder of my Air Magic beneath the ground. The stones shook and rattled before bursting heavenward as the bolt of air traveled directly through the courtyard to the mortals locked in combat.
Mages and Vessels from both sides were thrust into the air or fell to the ground as the stones buckled beneath them.
But I paid them no attention.
My focus was pulled directly to the two men as I watched them stumble as the ground shook before the stones rose up, propelled by my Air Magic.
They stayed suspended in the sky for a moment before they began to fall back to earth—directly on top of the last Truthsayer and his adversary.
Chapter 93
Rohak
Ithrust my sword at Alois, a move he expected and parried easily. I was not trying to kill my friend—even if that term was loose at best at this point in our lives.
But we could still salvage all those decades of friendship, right?
I’d fight him if it meant saving Faylinn.
But I wouldn’t kill him.
No matter how disappointed I was in him, no matter the anger his actions caused—nothing was worth him dying.
“You can do better than that, Rohak,” Alois panted as he readjusted his hold on the sword. I passed mine from hand to hand, desperately searching for a dry place to grip. The deluge of rain coupled with the sweat on my palms made that impossible.
We stood panting, chests heaving with exertion, merely feet apart from each other, but it felt like an impassable chasm.
How did we get to this point?
Alois had been by my side for decades—he was practically my brother.
Yet he colluded with the enemy and did nothing to fix the issues that rotted and festered within Elyria. All apparently for somehigher purpose.
Gripping my weapon in both hands, I swung my sword down in an arc that would have cleaved Alois in two if he hadn’t parried in time. The clang of steel on steel reverberated up my hands and into my arms, nearly causing me to drop my sword from the force. I spun away, barely out of the reach of Alois’ return strike, before planting my feet and stepping aggressively toward him. Our swords met in the space between our bodies, the blades shaking with the strain of our efforts.
The steel screeched as I planted a boot into Alois’ gut and thrust him back, clearing the space once more. Alois grinned as he rubbed what was sure to be a large bruise on his stomach.
“Always did favor that move, didn’t you, old friend?” I didn’t deign him with a response—we’d sparred together enough over the decades that we knew each other’s tells and preferred moves intimately.
That knowledge promised that neither of us would gain the upper hand in this little skirmish. I preferred long-range attacks—the ability to see my opponents project their moves was paramount—while Alois favored more close-quarters jabs and strikes.
He smiled wanly before brushing a wet lock of black hair off his forehead with his shoulder. The sleeping tunic he wore was see-through at this point, exposing the entirety of his chest and abdomen.
“Where are your blacks?” I called, much to Alois’ surprise. Talking during a fight was also not something I erred toward, but maybe if I threw him off enough, I could disarm him quickly before finding Faylinn.
My heart rate spiked; not from the feint Alois executed before charging into my space again, forcing me back a few stepsas I worked to parry his quick thrusts and strikes, but from the thought of Faylinn in danger.
Faylinn unprotected.
Faylinn dying from a magical attack when I was too distracted to protect her.
