Nihilio/Rioneer Aset Pt2

 Nihilio/Rioneer Aset

II [rage]

 The fights that ensued where ferocious, the combatants alternately winning. Their couplings were no more results of a victory, rather than a matter of their schedule, endurance and desire. Most often she was the winner. But he harbored a secret not for he was not what he seemed.
 In ages old and long forgotten, the Gods had chosen mortals to be Exalted, gods among humans, to wage war against their enemies. Their victory let them with the world at their command. Those exalted by the celestial gods, The Unconquered Sun, Luna and the Five Maidens were few but powerful, while those exalted by Gaia were numerous but of less significant potency. And among the exalted those chosen by the Unconquered Sun, the Solars, where the mightiest. Kings upon Exalted, they ruled during a golden age. But no things are meant to last. Overthroned by the overwhelming numbers of the Terrestrials, the Dragon Bloods, dubbed Anathema and hunted as beasts, they lived in the twilight of their long lost kingdom, it's ruins ravaged by the wyld and being the base for the empire of the dragon-bloods, founded by a woman who managed to save the Realm from the invading fair folk of the wyld. The empire she founded stands still, eight hundred years after her assignment in rule. All this time Exalted were born most of them hunted down and killed by packs of Dragon Blooded warriors, the so-called Wild Hunt.
Merek, the mysterious man who gave him a Daiklaive, a sword made of Oreichalcum, the magical material given by the Unconquered Sun, was one of those that survived the wild hunt, thanks to a brave fighter. The fighter who died heroically in combat and now his soul was Rioneer's. Or so he was told. Every second night, Rioneer found his way out of the mansion to be trained by his former student. Trained on the secrets of manipulating Essence, the inner force an Exalted used to perform acts beyond human limits.
"So, you think you must stay here", Merek told him, their swords crossed "They will come for you and I won't save you."
"I do not think so" Rioneer replied. "The Realm is not in a healthy condition. There is abundant strife and a war is being about to break out. A civil war, mind you. Plus, there are too many Anathemata, crawling out from every hole, like an outburst."
"Don't be so overconfident." Merek said "Many have made that mistake before. And it cost them their lives."
"As you did back then" he murmured to himself.
                     ***

 "So, how is Aisida doing?" Pelleps Esrin asked Encanti, feigning interest, though making little effort to be believable. She just waved her fan, watching her cousin and lover as she was lying on the divan they previously shared. "And that good-looking bodyguard of hers" she added, finally succeeding to anger Encanti.
 Esrin was a sorceress. Trained in the house of Bells, adept in the secrets of occult and having the power to perform feats seemingly impossible even to dragon bloods.  She was a small woman, her white hair long and straight, her body lithe. Her blue eyes held a spark of cold light, both attractive and terrifying. She always carried a fan, a masterwork indeed, dragons carved on it.

Her cousin, Encanti, was a diplomat, son of an influential family. He was tall but thin, lacking the solidity to be a good fighter. And he was not. However sharp his sword was, his wit was sharper and his social skills the key to succeeding his goals. His face was handsome, with white flowing hair. His moves were slender and graceful as he was reaching for the window and watching the busy road outside. It was a hot noon, just past midday and the bazaar was at full swing.

He was dressed and ready to go meet his fiancée, much to Esrin's dismay. And soon he was on the road to her house. Despite the crowded streets he was able to get there in little time. Inquiring a servant about Aisida's whereabouts, he was directed to the training room. Indeed her father, however low he was in rank for a Dragon blood, he was able to maintain a decent manor. Probably due to his marriage to a wealthy mortal, his second wife after Aisida's mother death. Mortals were always so fragile, he mused as he entered the chamber, the sound of swords ringing filling the air.

Aisida and Rioneer were fighting for quite some time, sweat glistering on their skin, puffing for some breath. So absorbed they were that they did not even noticed him. Their gazes were locked, their bodies trapped in an intimate dance of thrusts and parries. How fitting do they seem, thought Encanti. For the first time he noticed the heat in Aisida's eyes, Rioneer's proud posture, his skill with the sword, his graceful movements, his handsome face. He felt a hot harsh wind ravaging his insides, the pangs of jealousy. Aisida was his and his alone and no mortal should have her. However willing she was.
With a long stride he got closer to them, making his presence known to them. Aisida was surprised to see him. She held her sword in midair, then quickly recovering her wits put it aside, wiped some of her sweat with a towel and then came closer to him and kissed him, though there was a coldness in her kiss.
"How from here?" she asked him.
Rioneer was watching the entire scene silently. His lover and his rival in a tender embrace. This was annoying. No, it was not annoying. It was outrageous. He was supposed to watch like nothing was happening. Some time ago he could, but not now. His exaltation had given him a nasty temper. It was much easier for him to get mad at something, however trivial it might be.
"Well, I came to see you and your servant having a fight," said Encanti staring at Rioneer meaningfully, emphasising the word 'servant'. That was how they though of him, he thought, a servant, a plaything for his mistress. He felt so insulted. If only they knew how much better than those two he was. He had an impulse to rush forward, slicing this maggot in two with his sword. He bit his tongue not to answer, trying hard to remain calm.

"He is indeed a great fighter" Aisida said, a tone of admiration in her voice, "he can even outfight an Exalted" the latter said as a jest.

"I bet I can take him down." Encanti snapped at her. It was too late to rephrase his sentence, for Aisida had already handed him a sword, a well-crafted straight sword made of iron and was sitting in a bench. "Seems I will watch an interesting fight," she said a wide ironic smile in her face.
"Indeed" Esrin's voice sounded as her silhouette appeared in the doorframe, the bright sun behind her, making her white hair look ablaze. With an elegant manner she went be Aisida and sat next to her, her fan always at hand.

Encanti turned and looked at her puzzled, then at his opponent. He was a sessioned fighter while he just knew only the basics of swordsmanship. He awkwardly held the sword in both hands, trying to get a solid grip of it but his sweating hands made it hard to. He locked gaze with Rioneer and knew it would be a hard battle, if not an already lost one.
He focused on his rival and tried to think of an attack plan. Finally he decided to launch forward, trying to impale him with his sword before he could react. He feinted trying to slash him from the left, then jumped straight towards Rioneer, his sword pointing at Rioneer's heart. He expected a solid blow to his rival's chest, but instead he only saw Rioneer's sword effortlessly parrying away his weapon, then, in a blur of motion thrusting towards him, slicing his tunic just above his sternum. He knew it would take some dirty tricks to win. A rush of wind surrounded him, making him light as a feather. He jumped backwards, far away from Rioneer's second attack. He though he was fast, faster than his rival, but, as he landed upon a bench, found out a sword was beneath his chin. Rioneer was holding it, a mocking smile on his face. A similar smile was both on Aisida's and Esren's face. He was defeated. For now.
                       ***

The scented oils were a luxury he had never before experienced, unlike his companion. Lying in the bath he was relaxing his strained muscles. Too much practice, both daily and nightly had exhausted him, no matter who of the Gods have chosen him. Aisida was out of the bath, getting dressed and ready for the party she was to attend. It was a dynastic only party, some young Dragon-Bloods in a joined feast of depravity. Considering they were not more than ten who could fit the description of a young Dragon-Blood it was obvious who they would meet this night. For he was to accompany her as her bodyguard. She wore a dress, large enough to be considered a dress and translucent enough not to hide anything. On her ears hung sword-like earrings made of silver. Her body was bearing the odor of the oils she used for their bath. Her hair was tied up in a bun with an exquisite pin, a gift from Encanti. No bracelets adorned her wrists or any necklace her neck. She just put on a coat both to cover her revealing dress and because nights bore a chilling breeze.
Walking hand to hand they got to the street. Soon they were outside the manse the party was taking place. He was to wait outside, while she was to go in and join her peers. Rioneer sat there patiently and let his thoughts take him away… away to an age long gone, when the Unconquered Sun shone high above his children, his chosen. They were kings of the Exalt, gods among mortals. It was an age of prosperity. Of light. Of…
A vision came to him. He was in a golden palace. In a great chamber. He was on a divan, holding a cup of exquisite wine in his hand. A slave was coming his way, holding a dish with a bowl of red soup. His hands were shaking. The slave was not older than twelve years old. His body was frail. He was silent, due to the fact that his tongue was cut. He reached him, the dish shaking in his trembling hands, leaning over Rioneer - however he was called back then - and spilling some of the steaming liquid on him. The boy tried to mutter something shaken, letting the bowl fall. And it fell, its content painting his master red. He stood up, a cold gaze in his face. The boy tried to clean his master. Then the room was painted red, both from the soup and the boy's blood, as his head tumbled in front of the feet of his master.
Rioneer was shocked from the memory. He had not… He could not… He ought not to commit such a heinous act. "Don't repeat the same mistakes" a voice whispered in his head. "Was their age truly as magnificent as Merek had described," Rioneer wondered. "Was their fall just? Was he truly an Anathema?" Self-loathing and anger sprang inside him, coiling like snakes around his spine, finally reaching his brain, coiling around it, slowly crushing it. He bit his tongue once more, trying to remain calm.
                        ***

Encanti was hugging Aisida, while Esren sat against them, franticly waving her fan. It was a sign of her irritation. Encanti was kissing Aisida's hair, making Esren all the more frustrated.
"Don't you think it's time to retire, darling?" Encanti asked Aisida. "There is an agreement between us that still stands."
"Well," Aisida said, "I guess you are right."
Without further words they stood and went to one of the private rooms, leaving Esren boiling with jealousy. Frustrated she stood up and went to the balcony. Around her the party had passed its peak. From the seven starting participants only she and Pelleps Negolt remained, the latter too drank to remain conscious. Aisida and Encanti were having sex in one room, the other three in the other. And she was left alone. Perhaps it was the fear for her powers. A sorceress held at hand great power. She could call upon magic to flay a man alive by summoning a swarm of obsidian butterflies. She could ride the wind to far away lands. She could command spirits and summon demons from the bowels of the thousand Hells. And yet she bore a stigma, a price for her immense power. Nobody trusted a sorceress for nobody understood her. Her only companion was her cousin, and among them a love-hate relationship was established. What started as a game of manipulation ended as a web of lust, desire and betrayal, engulfing them both in it, allowing the spider of passion to feed on their hearts.
She slowly walked to the balcony, to get some fresh air. As she stood there, letting the night breeze to caress her, she noticed the servants that have accompanied the Dragon-Blood guests. Among them she saw the man she wanted to talk to in private for some time. Now it was her chance.

A servant came to Rioneer, disrupting his gloomy thoughts, to call him inside. Rioneer dragged his body inside, following a complex of corridors to a vast hall. There a woman waited him, Esren
"Greetings Rioneer" she told him, while she waved the slave to leave them.

"Greetings lady Esren" said Rioneer bowing.
"There is a something we must talk about. Would you follow me?"
Rioneer felt stressed. Was he discovered? Was he about to be destroyed?
Esren led him to an elegant bedroom. A large bed dominated the room, while a closet was covering an entire wall. She stood behind him and cradled his head in her arms. A slight breeze filled the room, carrying words of love, whispered oaths and moans of passion. He could make out whose voices where they: Aisida's and Encanti's. He felt his stomach twisting, a sudden urge to throw up. Jealousy was eating him deep from the inside. Jealousy and a rage burning like an iron left in fire for hours. He could know about their infrequent intercourse and had gone to terms with it, but listening to their tryst was far beyond his capabilities.
"I feel the same way you do" Esren told him tenderly caressing his cheek. "I love him and you love her. Seems we have something in common."

Rioneer felt something was amiss. She had an ulterior motive.
"Really who are you Aset Rioneer?" asked Esren . "Or, to phrase it better" she added "what are you?"
Rioneer was like struck by a lightning bolt. "An ordinary human" he replied "the Immaculate dragons did honored me by choosing me to Exalt."
"Don't lie to me," she replied, her face coming closer to his. "I know you are Exalt". Rioneer's legs almost betrayed him. "Probably the illegitimate son of a Dynast, aren't you? A fire aspect probably. Don't try to deny it, nobody un-exalted can take down an exalted fighter in a fair fight."

Her hands were now caressing his sternum "Marry me!" she finally told him.

Rioneer was left speechless.
"I know how it feels. Being an outcast. I can offer you a position in the Dynasty." She examined the surprised expression in his face. "Why you? Simply, she has the one I love and I have the one she loves."
"And what if I am mortal?" Rioneer murmured "Probably there would be more suiting suitors for you."
A harsh ironic smile formed in Esren's lips. "Being stigmatised by sorcery is enough to repel many suitors". "And being barren" she added in a sob "most of the others. You are handsome and have the qualifications to get a high rank in the army. A good husband. Plus it's our vengeance to our loved ones next door."
Dragons, this is sick, though Rioneer, then remembered he was not to mention the Immaculate Dragons, the religion of the realm, but his patron, the Unconquered Sun.
"No way" he told Esren shoving her away from him and left. But he felt her vengeful eyes stabbing him in the back as he turned his back to her exiting the room.
                     ***

Rioneer, his mood foul, was walking the midnight streets holding Aisida in his arms. The opium she had inhaled at the party was too much for her even to walk. Now she was hanging from his neck, giggling and mumbling incoherently. The more he saw her the more he loathed her and her kind. How could he be so foolish to fall in love with her? The last question was not to be answered but to add to his frustration.
Having these dark thoughts in mind he got her home, to her room and lain her to her bed.
"Come join me" she said, tugging him, teasing him to join her in her bed..
Rioneer felt disgusted. Her half-naked body was truly appealing to him, but her attitude enraged him. She was so arrogant, so careless about other people's emotions, so despicable. And yet his body ached to join her in a night of passion. Was he mad at her or at himself. Or was his rage a flaw, a curse bestowed to him by this god who chose him.
No matter what he had to go out to take some clean air. He went to his room, got his hidden Daiklaive, put on a cloak so that he could hide its bulk, then got out of the house. The night streets were empty. Rioneer inhaled some air, tried to clear his mind and drifted aimlessly for a while. His steps brought him out of the laughing squirrel. Rioneer grinned. Perhaps he needed a drink. Or to get drunk. Or to find comfort in the arms of one of the courtesans. At least they would be honest to him. Or finally he might meet Merlen. Since the night they spent together he had forgotten her. And now she crept into his mind, a reminisce of a random encounter. Perhaps coming here was no coincidence but an arrangement Venus, the Maiden of Serenity. Probably the Lovers were beaming their light to him up from their place in the sky.
Taking some hesitant steps he entered. Once more a wave of depravity hit him, this time not from the ruling class but from the peasants. One of the waitresses greeted him meaningfully blinking to him. Rioneer ignored her and stood on his toes to scan the room for known faces.

Sitting at a table nearby were two men who accompanied Merlen the night they met. They were somewhat drunk now and the mugs in front of them indicated they planed to become fully drunk as the night went on.

He went to their table and greeted them. They ignored him.
"Has Merlen returned?" he asked them
The two men laughed, their laugher a mocking chuckle. Rioneer felt his blood streaming to his head.
"So you don't know, eh?" one of the men told him. "The night you… slept with her she did not tell you she was going to a wyld hunt. She is dead." Rioneer felt the ground give way beneath his feet "Yes, he was the cannon fodder for the dragon bloods to slay an Anathema. But what would a lapdog like you know?"
Rioneer would like to answer back, to explain him he was wrong. But the only action he performed was to grab a mug and slam it into his face. The mug caught him in the nose, breaking it and the man ended up out cold, blood running from his nose. The other man stood up and lunged at Rioneer. So did some men and women from nearby tables, all of them eager to participate in a brawl. Rioneer dodged the punch that was coming to him with ease. Truth was, however skilled was he in melee, when it came to brawling he was clueless. That's why, while rolling away from half a dozen punches, he raised a chair and slammed it in the head of an assailant. The chair broke and Rioneer held one of its legs. Using it as a club, he took out three opponents in one sweep. Then ducking he evaded a mug. The woman who threw the mug, a soldier with a patch covering her left eye, tried to grab another but didn't make it. Rioneer had already leaped towards her and slammed his makeshift club on her face. She was unconscious. Then, with a sweeping move Rioneer blocked two clubs coming to his head from behind. With a quick turn he caught his opponents with a swing of the club, breaking one's knee and knocking the breath out of the second. Two more strikes and he was unable to continue the fight. Then the original attacker came to Rioneer swinging his sword. With a rapid move Rioneer smashed his club in the sword hand, knocking away the sword. Then battered the man three or four times until he was unconscious. Turning away from him, he saw three of the thugs that frequent the tavern looking him from head to toe. Let them come, he thought, clutching his club with both hands.
                          ***

 Exiting the tavern, he stretched his fatigued body and strolled away in the dark of the night. Perhaps he should go to his meeting place with Merek  for their usual training. Dragging his legs he went for the deserted house they used. He was neither fatigued nor injured from the fight. Only still heavy hearted and feeling guilty for all the pointless violence he had inflicted upon the patrons. Maybe he indeed was an Anathema.
 He was halfway and still he felt eyes on his back. It was like a hidden adversary tailed him. It was no wonder though, since the city was full with thugs. Probably it was just one of them.
 Alone in the shadows Iselsi Ragnas was watching Rioneer. The Anathema was about to die. He gripped his twin jade slashing swords while, using the empathic link they had established, he mentally ordered his partner Nellens Eselsi to send in the troops. Then, channeling some of the power that was swirling around him he honed his abilities in order to jump right in front of Rioneer. A freezing gust of wind swept his cloak as he did so.
 One moment Rioneer was walking on an empty street. Next moment he was surrounded by thirty soldiers, their poles aiming at him. Then a dragon blooded in a black cloak landed five steps from him holding twin white swords, one in each hand. Melting out of the shadows another dragon blooded made her presence known, a dark haired woman in a blue armor. She was not armed but her gauntlets featured many spikes, obviously aiming to rend his flesh from his bones. He shot a glance to the soldiers. They all looked scared, all showing the same heroic determination to sacrifice their lives in order to rid the world of a monster like himself. The memory of Merlen came to his mind. He now recognized her expression as they parted being the same with the one these soldiers did bear. But they needed not have the same fate.
 He gripped his sword and brought it to his front, its sheath still covering its gleaming golden blade. Calling upon the powers bestowed to him by his patron he channeled much of his inner energy to sharpen his reactions. Then, like a living avalanche, he was on the troopers, each swing knocking out a bunch of them, each stab of their poles being parried effortlessly. It took little time for Rioneer to stand triumphant upon their limp bodies.

Iselsi Ragnas was wise enough not to have underestimated his foe. In the blink of an eye he was on Rioneer, both swords coming to him from different directions. No man could deflect or dodge this strike. Rioneer sent his daiklaive, now bare of its sheath, to his right, parrying away one sword. Ragnas was sure he would feel his left sword dipping deep into the Anathema's flesh. The time almost froze, his sword coming closer to Rioneer slowly, Rioneer's sword blurring as it was coming from right to left. Less than a centimeter from Rioneer's shoulder did the two swords clash. Ragnas barely had the time to move his body to one side as Rioneer finished the parry with a counterattack. Had he not turned the sword would have been thrust deep in his belly. Now it barely scratched his amps. However little it touched him, the wound it caused was bleeding profoundly, a line of agony on his body.

 Eselsi thought Rioneer's defenses would be down as she charged him. Her punch was like a wave, swift and furious. Yet the sword was parrying away the wicked spikes of her gauntlet from their target. She barely managed to hit Rioneer with a liquid motion. Her spikes bit deep into Rioneer's flesh. It would be an agonising wound had Rionner been an ordinary man. But now it was no more than a bad bruise, a bleeding one but still a bruise.

Mad with pain and rage Rioneer shot back, his sword in a vertical chop, the daiklaive slashing the air. The strike was solid, the sword hitting her hard. It cut a long vertical scar in her face. But it could not chop her head in two, because the sword was too big not to him much of her armor. And because the power of the impact sent her body slamming against a nearby wall. A trail of blood, starting from her forehead running down her face and dripping from her chin pooled in a lake right in front of her.

 Ragnas, still airborne, kicked a nearby wall, reversing his momentum. He turned over, his swords high, trying to score a blow. Two parrying attempts later, he found himself kneeling on the street, another slash depriving him of his Dragon blood. Slowly he stood and eyed his foe. He was not an ordinary man, that he knew. What he was told was that he would fight a young Anathema, still weak and unable to fully use his potential. Yet this foe was formidable. What kind of monster was he. If he could reach his full potential then only the Dragons knew what could stop him.
 Ragnas stood, bit his lip and moved to face Rioneer once more. Their gazes locked, as Ragnas took a defensive stance. The Anathema surely used some sort of defensive magic. It would bide his time to exhaust it. So he went on the defensive. In the meantime Eselsi was up and coming towards Rioneer, her charge a mighty blow enhanced by essence. A watery aura surrounding her made her look like a wave ready to crush her rival. Her paunch went for Rioneer's sternum but ended crushing against a nearby wall; Rioneer's sword had cut her right arm just bellow her elbow. A piercing scream escaped her lips as her blood was splattering the street and her soul returning to the Immaculate Dragons. Then Rioneer was on Ragnas, slashing at him with ferocity.
 Wild as the lion on the pommel of his sword, Rioneer was more than a challenge to Ragnas. The Dragon-Blooded assassin had killed many of his kind during the fifty years of his life. Still young by Dragon Blooded standards, it was his first wyld hunt. Yet he could see it was going to be his last. It took all his skill to fend off the attacks. He did not know how long could he last. He had already taken a couple nicks here and there, even one or two wounds. Yet it took more physical injury than this to render him incapacitated. A gust of freezing wind was surrounding him, the result of essence expenditure as he tried to parry and dodge his rival's attacks. Yet his tactics had failed him. His rival seemed not to be exhausted. It was time for a fast and furious counterattack. 
 Leaping high in the air he tumbled and reversed the grip of his swords. He descended with a scream, a shout of primal rage, as he tried to slash his opponent. A blizzard of ice shards was surrounding him now, all the essence he could gather in a final outburst of brute force. The white jade of his swords covered with ice, his moves swift as the spring breeze and ferocious like a winder storm, a living avalanche of essence. His swords went down, stabbing at Rioneer. But he was faster. Raising his sword he managed to stop both the descending swords in one sweep, then posed the daiklaive vertically. There was no way for Ragnas to reverse his momentum. He impaled himself on the orichalcum weapon, his blood painting the golden blade dark red.
 Rionner was standing still, shocked at what he had done. He had killed before in battle but this time it was different. Two Dynasts were dead at his feet. Two gods among humans. Yet he had overpowered them and left the battle with nothing more than a small wound. It was something unimaginable.
 "Good work" said a familiar voice. Rioneer turned to see Merek standing next to him. 
 "You were watching me fighting them?" he asked him.
 "Yes, a spectacular fight indeed." Merek remarked "lucky you they were but a couple of youngsters. Next time it may be monks. You won't be able to make it on your own against them."
 "Then you could help me" Rioneer replied.
 "I don't think so" came Merek's answer, "your training here is done and I shall help you no more. It's time for our paths to split. Better get out of this city while you can." Without further talking, Merek melted in the nearby shadows and disappeared, leaving Rioneer confused.
                   ***

 Rioneer woke up next morning by the sun entering from his window. He had cleaned himself from the blood and the gore, had tied his wound and was getting some rest. A gentle rap on his door forced him to wake. He put on his trousers and opened the door. Aisida was standing on the other side.         "May I come in?" she asked.
 "Sure," said Rioneer letting her in and closing the door.
 "Are you hurt?" she asked when she saw the bandages on his side.
 "Got involved in a bar brawl and someone used a cestus."
 She got closer to inspect the wound, but he dismissed her telling her it was nothing serious.
 "You had to relieve some tension" she told him as she lay on his bed.
 A moment of silence followed, each one staring the other.
 "About last night," she said laying on the bed "what got into you?"
 It was the final drop. He could take no more of her arrogance. She asked him WHAT GOT INTO HIM? The point was WHAT got INTO her! He could take no more of keeping his thoughts for himself. It was time to teach her he was not her plaything. But first he had to smash something.

A punch smashed a hole in the door. Rioneer was seeing red. Aisida got from the bed, shocked at the transformation.

 "I AM NOT A PUPPET DAMN IT" shouted Rioneer, his face distorted by rage, his voice a feral growl. 
 "I HEARD YOU LAST NIGHT"
 Aisida was shocked.
 "I HATE YOU"
 Her expression was that of a hurt puppy
 "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT"
 Aisida did so, running out of the room, while Rioneer was smashing his bed.
          ***

 She spent her day sobbing in her room. She had no intention to hurt him, yet she did. She had to balance her duties and her heart. According to her there was a solution. She could merry Pelleps Encanti and Rioneer could remain her bodyguard and her lover. Yet Rioneer could not accept that. Neither could the possessive Pelleps. That she knew. But she was sure he could reach an agreement with both men. Yet Rioneer's newfound temper had worried her. She could not imagine that someone of his class would talk to her that way. To her worldview it was unbelievable and unacceptable. Yet she had to recognise that a mere mortal may not be able to withstand stress the same way one of those chosen by the Dragons to be their champions could.
 A rap on her door disrupted her train of thought. She splashed some water on her face to hide her tears, then opened the door. Rioneer was standing outside. "May I come in?" he asked in a humble voice. 
 Aisida let him in. She gave him a seat, then sat on her bed opposite to him.
 "I'm sorry about what happened," Rioneer whispered loud enough to be barely heard "anger is like water. It gathers little by little until it breaks like a crushing wave."
 "I understand" Aisida answered dryly.
 "That's why I decided to quit my post and travel somewhere far away." He continued.
 Aisida was struck speechless.  She couldn't, ought not to understand what he just said.
 "What for?" she finally asked, an edge in her voice. She was annoyed by what he just said.
 "I don't like to, but I have to" he told her calmly. One look in his eyes though made Aisida afraid. What she saw was a flame of anger burning in there. She was sure another word could make him blow. And perhaps even she could not be able to control him, despite the power given to her by the Dragons themselves.
 "Good luck wherever you go," Aisida told him, while Rioneer was turning his back leaving "I shall love you no matter" she muttered once he was out of the room, her heart broken, a wound that would not heal so easily. 
                           ***

 It was dark while Rioneer was on his way. He had read an announcement, asking strong mercenaries for a mission in the Southwestern islands. The fleet was leaving next day. He better had to go to the docks and spend the night there, so he could enlist in time the next morning.

Passing through one of the notorious alleyways of Paragon he caught a group of shadows with the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned to their direction. Out of the shadows came five figures. The rugs they wore and the crude swords they held indicated they were street thugs. But their moves were those of expert killers. Seemed like someone has arranged his murder. Probably someone named Pelleps Encanti. He went for the slashing sword tied at his belt but stopped. Instead he pulled out his daiklaive from its hiding place.

 The thugs came in one after another, coordinated in a way that no man or dragon-blooded could counter them. But Rioneer was neither. Forcing his essence to flow, he blocked the leader of the gang as he thrust his sword to his lung. Rioneer was burning with rage. Those rascals would pay for what they were about to do. Ferociously he counterattacked, slashing the leader in two. Just in time he parried the dagger coming towards his eye then slashed the wrist of it's wielder. A crimson spring spout from the amputated member, as the thug screamed. As a third sword aimed Rioneer's leg, he leaped forward and decapitated his foe before he could attack. Then ducked as a fourth blade was aiming at his back. The fourth blade ended up over and beyond his head. Rioneer reversed his sword and thrust it under his left arm and into the thug's belly, producing a wet splashing sound. The final attack came from Rioneer's flank. Having no time to pull out his sword he shove the corpse at the end of his blade in the way, the incoming sword stabbing the dead thug's spine. The assailant dropped the sword and run away, but Rioneer was faster. Pulling his sword he jumped over the corpse and onto his fleeing rival. When he was done with him they were both covered with blood and gore. The blood of the would-be assassin.
 Rioneer cleaned his blade and his face and looked at his dead opponents. Creation was a jungle and the stronger survived. He ought not to have any delusions. He was a lion, stronger than most of the other animals, their king, their predator. He had to survive, to be better and to get his rightful place as a king. Yet he had to be less arrogant than his past life or the lives the Dynasts led. With that in mind he was ready to roam the land and be better, stronger, more cunning. Who knew what awaited tomorrow. Anyway, he would face it no matter what it would be.