Locked in a stalemate, the Umbral leaned closer, the heat of its breath on my face as it seethed. “You will not best me, Lightbringer.”
Ramming my good shoulder into them, the Umbral’s stance faltered, their foot sliding on the ichor that dripped from their wound. With another surge of confidence, I shoved once more, separating from my opponent long enough for my epee to pierce their left side, a mirror image of my own wound.
A bestial bellow reverberated from the chest of the Umbral as more ichor poured from their wound, soaking into the delicate fabric of Sancha’s vestments like spilled ink. They staggered back a few paces, leveling a gaze of pure obsidian that chilled me to the core.
“Two for me,” I announced, flicking my blade to loosen the dark blood that clung to the tip. I risked a glance back at the others as the chains lifted me once again—Bastien watching mewith cautious hope, and Azrael beaming a smile that caused my pulse to sputter.
Death was no longer the only option. With one more victory, we could all leave this place intact.
Well, that wasn’t true for all of us.
“Sancha,” I said, turning back to my opponent. “I don’t know if you can hear me in there, but I wanted to thank you. I told you I wasn’t ready. And the truth is, I’m not. I’m nothing like you. You’ve been a beacon for the Hallowed. A light to guide them forward. I’ll never be able to follow in those footsteps. But I understand that I’ve been given a gift, and for whatever reason, you’ve seen fit to trust me with it. So, while I may not be ready to fill the void of your absence, I have surrounded myself with those who will not let me fall.”
I glanced back at the two men watching me intently.
“Because of them, I know that there is a better future waiting. Not just for the Hallowed, but for everyone across the Expanse. The barriers between us are breaking, and while wounds from the past must be atoned for, the way forward is clear.”
The Umbral spat a mouthful of ichor onto the ground.
“Your sentiment is wasted upon deaf ears. I will blot every lingering trace of it from this world.”
“For one who touts themselves above the emotions of humans, you sound awfully spiteful. Is that a bit of humanity I see behind those soulless eyes?”
They raised their weapon once more, taking their stance.
“Enough. I have indulged your foolishness for too long. Let us be done with this.”
I took my place across from them, the ache of my muscles nearly forgotten in the state of bliss I felt. It was as if I’d been a bird, long confined to a cage with bars crafted from misanthropy. I’d always seen the ugliness of the world for whatit was—a blight of humanity’s making. Now, I longed to make a world of beautiful things.
The Source’s blessing came to life once more beneath my skin, ignited by the thought of possibilities. All I had to do was survive the next few minutes, and I could begin making it a reality.
Lifting my epee, I drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I sank into my position. Across, my former master glared back with eyes of dark glass.
“I am ready.”
The score was tied between darkness and light, but our match was anything but even.
With a ferocity I’d never seen, the Umbral lashed out, their blade of stygian darkness carving through the air as I danced away from advance after advance. The wounds on my shoulder and side continued to sap at my strength, and despite the bloom of the Source’s blessing in my chest, it was a monumental task to keep my arm steady enough to parry.
My first falter came a few maneuvers into the bout, as my sluggish reflexes failed to catch a thrust in time. Once again, those tethers attached to me held my assailant at bay, steered by the will of those they tethered me to, but before I could counter and win the match, the Umbral shrieked in rage, a tendril of darkness pouring from its mouth and twisting into a clawed hand that tore through the tethers, severing their hold. I managed to retreat a few paces before the Umbral was on me once more, their wicked blade whistling as they struck.
Two more parries and it was becoming evident that neither of us would last. Sweat dripped from my brow as I focused on keeping upright. Meanwhile, veins of tar-black had spread alongthe Umbral’s exposed flesh, their wounds continuing to leak the viscous ichor, our footsteps painting the floor beneath us in patterns of black and red.
As the bout wore on, I would catch glimpses of the others. Bastien remained stoic, any emotion carefully tempered to a cool indifference. Azrael, on the other hand, was opposite in every way. He hissed each time the Umbral’s blade neared my skin, and cheered with each of my ripostes. He wore each emotion evenly across his form, the way his tailed twitched, or his smile sagged. Each a lesson in transparency that I would have loved to study.
Their presence kept me grounded, even when the throbbing pain of my Sanguine wounds grew to become unbearable. The longer the bout raged on, the stronger the connection of our tethers became, and the easier it was to pick up the thoughts coming down the line.
“They’ll keep going for the left. It’s where he’s weakest.”
I pivoted, guarding my left side as a thrust narrowly avoided skewering my already damaged shoulder. Bastien’s analysis was spot on.
“He’s strong enough to see this through. He’ll make it.”
Azrael’s thoughts sank into my chest, and I held them close, kindling what dwindling fire was left from the Source’s blessing. It was the only warmth left in me by then, the rest of my limbs falling numb to the frigid cold.
The Umbral charged once more, and I planted myself, raising my guard to fend off another strike on my left. Still, they pivoted at the last moment, a swirl of sapphire fabric as they brought their blade down from the opposite direction, leaving themselves open to a strike.
This was my chance. Everything was riding on what came next.
