The Wandering Sword

A large and voluminous figure emerged from a wooden door, once again receiving the daylight after a brief visit to the darkness.

"That scoundrel..." muttered in a low and bitter voice as he paced through the premises of a military barracks.

On its thick stone walls, banners were hanging. Yellow fabric banners, embroidered with a coat of arms featuring a royal crown and two horizontal stripes below it: one white, with a golden and majestic castle with spiky towers, resembling more of a palace due to the beauty of its architecture; and another red, with the silhouette of a black bull with curved and sharp horns, charging towards the east. Among them, simpler banners alternated, consisting of a white background with an elaborate red rose in the middle.

Numerous soldiers made their presence known. Some came and went; others remained in immobile groups, conversing and resting in an outdoor courtyard and a small tavern. However, they all stood tall and fell silent as they noticed the proximity of that individual, their captain: Ser Janpelan of Salamandera. A gesture that expressed their respect for his position and fear of his strong character.

At least he never got to see her. He only knows that I didn't defeat him but not who did it. For now, she is not in danger, concluded Ser Janpelan, feeling relieved. His feet descended the steps that led to the spacious main hall of the building.

Moreover, I am more concerned about the youthful follies that might cross her mind than that Abiyr. It reminds me so much of myself when I was her age…

"Father!"

"Luciara!"

Ser Janpelan startled as he saw his daughter swiftly approaching him from a corner of the room, stopping to embrace him. Both stood upon a long red carpet that ended at the beginning of the steps.

"Are you alright?" she asked, releasing him to look into his eyes.

"I'm fine, don't worry," replied Ser Janpelan, his brow furrowing in mild anger. "But what did I tell you about not coming through here until further notice?"

"I know... but I was really worried. I couldn't just wait without knowing anything," she argued. "What did you do with that Abiyr?... Did you execute him?"

"No, he's alive. I'm interrogating him in the dungeons, and once I'm done, we'll decide his fate. That's all you need to know," he informed her, with a curt demeanor. "Luciara, do you realize how fortunate you are?... What were you thinking attacking an Abiyr? That foolishness could have ended in disaster."

Luciara frowned.

"Foolishness? Do you call the Somnoro Sagittam I used to save you a foolish act? Do you know how difficult it was to execute its sequence?" Luciara retorted, baring her teeth in an angry grimace. She was becoming as irritated as he was by his responses. "What else was I supposed to think about other than saving you?! Did you expect me to just stand idly by?"

"Of course, I did!" Janpelan asserted angrily. Several soldiers approached, curious to eavesdrop. All Salamandera family disputes were always good material for entertaining gossip... as long as they were shared away from their ears, of course. "Don't you understand?! The last thing I want is for you to get involved in my fights! If I was meant to die there, you were not supposed to follow me!"

"Exactly! If it weren't for me, that Abiyr would have taken your head!" Luciara replied. "And don't give me that 'I had everything under control' nonsense, because I saw how he overwhelmed you!" she scolded, accurately anticipating his next telepathic response, which drowned in embarrassment when exposed publicly. "Instead of complaining so much, you should be grateful!" Her anger subsided. She clasped her hands together, looking at him with tender eyes like a cat begging for affection. "With some money for my travel expenses, and allowing me to use the 'mirrors'... you know I've earned it."

"Ugh! I know you too well! I knew you would try to use your tricks to manipulate me!" Janpelan reproached, exerting all his strength to resist her charms. "I told you before, and I'll say it again now: it's a terrible idea, garbage, to put it mildly," he pronounced. "If you want to become a Holy Warrior like me so badly, then go and do it, but don't count on my support. And until that happens, if it ever does, you are absolutely not allowed to use the 'mirrors.'"

"FATHER!" Luciara scolded, extending her staff towards his face with her left hand and igniting the palm of her right hand in flames.

To the fortune of their witnesses, who couldn't stop whispering and stifling laughter, the altercation promised to reach its crescendo. But…

BOOM BOOM

The echoes of distant and powerful explosions reached everyone's ears, pulling them away from their distractions. Amusement turned into tension.

"What was that?"

"Has the Abiyr escaped?"

"Could they have come to rescue him?"

The hair on several guards stood on end as they pondered the possibilities.

No... it can't be him... It's coming from outside the barracks, Ser Janpelan silently analyzed, his focus sharp. I think it's coming from the harbor... Could it be...?!

The faint sound of a bell that followed confirmed his suspicions.

"Corsairs!" Ser Janpelan exclaimed. He turned to his men. "Soldiers! Gather in the courtyard immediately and inform the others!" he ordered. "We're going out! The port guard may require our assistance."

"Yes, Ser!" His men nodded promptly and dispersed.

The warrior turned to his daughter.

"Luciara! Stay here until I return!"

"You told me not to come through here earlier, and now you're asking me to stay?" Luciara challenged him, sarcastically feigning confusion. "Make up your mind."

"Things have changed! Now no street is safe!" he shouted at her, suspecting what she might be up to. "Here, you'll be protected by my men. Don't you dare go out looking for me!"

***

"How did a young lad like yourself end up in such an unpleasant place?"

While chaos unfolded on the surface, the conversation between the wandering knight Mavros of Havenfalls and Sheida, his neighboring prisoner, continued from the point where they exchanged their names.

"Well..." The lad lowered his head, clearly embarrassed. "It's so ridiculous, I didn't do anything wrong to anyone... I didn't steal, cheat, kill, blackmail, slander, blaspheme…"

"Yes, yes! I understand!" Mavros interrupted him, exasperated by his unnecessary list of crimes he didn't commit. "What did you do?"

Sheida returned his gaze, quite serious.

"I played music with my ayadis in exchange for tips on the harbor boulevard," he revealed.

"Inan?! For playing music?!" Mavros exclaimed in surprise, unable to believe it was for that reason.

"Incredible, isn't it? They caught me this morning. I have to spend the entire afternoon here as punishment for doing it without a 'musician's license.' " He smiled, containing his great annoyance. "According to them, I have to get one from the town hall to be able to play... Since when do you need a blasted license to make art?... Curse it! I wasn't even begging! I was working!" He vented. "These Elvirean rulers and their rules of…"

"They are strict in this kingdom," Mavros interrupted him before he could utter his profanity. "If they imprisoned you for something like that, it's no wonder they would attack me without asking questions…"

"But believe me, this is nothing. Ayarians like us at least live in peace around here," Sheida assured. He averted his gaze. "In the Grianzan area, they punish us for much less..." he recounted, visualizing memories of resentment. "And what about you, Abiyr? Why have you come here after so many years? Why did you let yourself get arrested?" he inquired, with the obvious intention of changing the subject. "My parents and grandparents have told me that you could defeat entire legions of Elvireans single-handedly."

"It's a long story..." Mavros prepared to tell him. "And please, don't keep calling me 'Abiyr.' Call me Mavros or Ser Mavros, whichever you prefer."

***

Ser Janpelan led his men through the streets of Cirencre towards the port area. The synchronized trot of their footsteps and the clash of their armor pieces created a unique melody as they passed by. Crowds fled in terror from where they were heading.

"Ser Janpe!"

"Eh?!"

Amongst the crowd, a young soldier appeared, crouching down, catching his breath as he gasped from exhaustion. The Ser stopped, forcing his units to do the same.

"Are you from the port guard?" Janpelan asked him. "What is happening?"

"Yes!" the soldier confirmed, looking up at him in shock. "We were attacked by Ayarian corsairs! We tried to stop them, but we were no match for them. I barely managed to escape," he informed them. "They split into two groups... They're wreaking havoc on the boulevard."

"Two groups?" Janpelan wanted to delve further into that information. "Do you have any idea where they went? How many of them were there?"

"From what I could see... One group moved north, and the other went south. There were about twenty of them combined. But be careful, they're highly organized... They're not ordinary corsairs."

The south of the port... That's where the city bank is, Janpelan realized as he interpreted that information. His eyebrows raised. I'm no tactical genius, but it's as clear as day! That's their main target, the group in the north is just a distraction!

"Thank you for warning us!" The captain turned to his troops. "Soldiers! Let's split up! Twenty of you will go north, and the rest will come with me to the south."

As the forces of the barracks agreed on their division, the messenger lowered his head to the ground. He contemplatively watched the drops of sweat falling onto the floor.

I almost forgot! His eyes widened. I have to warn them, or they'll end up like us!

"We'll meet at the port!" Ser Janpelan finished giving his instructions. "Move out!"

"Wait, Ser Janpe! There's something...!"

It was too late to warn them. Ser Janpelan and his groups split up and rushed off to their designated points, leaving the messenger's words to be lost in the wind.

Damn it! How could I be so clumsy? That was the first thing I had to tell them! The young soldier clenched his teeth, angry at himself. I can barely feel my legs... But I must warn them without fail.

***

"Ugh!"

"Uaagh!"

Moans and blunt strikes echoed in the polished marble. The full-body armors and longswords did not prevent the guards of the Cirencre bank from being knocked down by their skilled attackers, who entered a corridor until they reached the reinforced door of a vault. A frightened employee was pushed by them, leaving him face to face with the door.

"Open it," their leader ordered him with cold composure, touching his back with the tip of his cutlass.

The employee obeyed without resistance, unwilling to risk his life for someone else's wealth. He operated several mechanisms and combinations that caused the door to slide slowly to the side, revealing its contents: five rows of shelves with locked chests at their ends. Each shelf had a distinctive small banner hanging, representing a particular flower.

The looters swarmed towards them, easily breaking the locks of the chests with thick pliers to open them. Gleaming together like an evening sun, gold coins of different shapes and denominations piled up inside. Tenderly caressing them like the hair of a beloved woman, Captain Baharen Ibad tested several of them.

"They are genuine," he conveyed the results of his brief examination to his men with a smile. "Empty the chests!"

In unison, his subordinates proceeded to take out bags in which they deposited the contents of each box until they were dry.

"Thank you, my friend. You were of great help," Baharen said to the employee, patting him on the right shoulder. "As a reward, I will only put you to sleep."

Without further ado, he delivered a devastating elbow strike with his left arm, which was more than enough to render him unconscious.

"Let's go!"

The corsairs withdrew with their loot, crossing the threshold of the bank's entrance to venture back into the streets and return to their ship.

But…

"Stop right there!"

They were already waiting for them. Soldiers blocked all their exits, several of them aiming crossbows and arquebuses at their heads. Leading them, Ser Janpelan pointed his mace at the cornered plunderers.

"Damn it..." muttered the corsairs. Apparently, they hadn't expected to be caught red-handed.

"Ser Janpelan of Salamandera..." Baharen whispered, fixing him with predator-like eyes, like those of a shark.

Penetrated by those eyes, Janpelan opened his mouth in astonishment.

This Ayarian... he looks familiar... he resembles... For a moment, he thought he was facing a ghost from the past. But he quickly regained his composure and focus as he dismissed the thought. "Surrender! There's no escape for you!" Janpelan ordered him and his men. "Drop your weapons and that gold that doesn't belong to you!"

"It seems you don't know who I am, but I know exactly who you are," Baharen said, smiling maliciously and confidently.

"Shut up!" Ser Janpelan shouted at him. "One more word, and you and your henchmen will face our shots!... You have ten seconds to surrender... 10... 9... 8…"

The captain exchanged silent glances and gestures with his men as the countdown continued.

"7... 6... 5..."

The countdown stopped, the metal fell and vibrated on the ground as it bounced off its surface. All the corsairs dropped their possessions as they had been ordered. Their arms raised in a sign of surrender.

"Good..." Ser Janpelan addressed his men. "Arrest them!"

He advanced alongside them to finish subduing the corsairs.

When they were close enough...

"Hm?!"

Before they could react or realize what was happening, the corsairs brought their left hands behind their backs as if they were scratching with them. With their right hands, they covered their noses.

Is this...?!

Smoke!

Out of nowhere, a dense cloud of smoke appeared and enveloped everyone, obscuring their vision and making it difficult to breathe. The soldiers couldn't stop coughing and staggering with their eyes half-closed.

Their leader was the first to recover, enduring it better than his subordinates. He searched for the looters where they were supposed to be. His free left hand clenched in frustration—they had vanished completely. Damn it! They tricked us!

Meters away from them, the corsairs ran at full speed through the maze of streets, laughing with joy at the success of their clever escape.

That was close... If we hadn't brought our dukhans, they would have given us a lot of trouble. Some of my faricums would have died in combat… Baharen acknowledged that luck was on their side. But I'm sure they didn't have much effect on a Holy Warrior like him. He won't be long in catching up with us...

The image of the harbor and its boulevard soon appeared before their eyes. Their docked ship could be seen on the nearby horizon. The corsairs were about to enter the pier when...

Blast!

Their captain halted them, retreating just in time to avoid being incinerated by a streak of fire that passed inches away from him. With a leap that shook the ground upon landing, Ser Janpelan stood between them. An impassable wall with his armor and flaming mace.

"This is as far as you go!" He pointed at them angrily with his left index finger. His pupils seemed to be engulfed in fire, just like the rest of his body. "Surrender or prepare to die!"

It was a wall the corsair captain was determined to defy.

"Take this!" His bag of gold flew and landed at the feet of some of his comrades. "Fall back, faricums!" he imperatively exclaimed, never taking his eyes off his opponent. He brandished and leaned forward with his cutlass. "I will kill him! Meanwhile, stand guard. Taraked must be on his way."

"Yes, Captain!" They obeyed, taking positions around them at a safe distance.

Someone observed the confrontation discreetly, peering from the corner of a building overlooking the pier. Her worry and anxiety were palpable on her face and gray eyes.

No... Don't tell me he has to fight again…

Disobeying her orders once again and eluding the soldiers guarding her, Luciara had ventured out to find out about her father and the city's situation.

An Ayarian like that corsair should be quite easy for him to defeat. Unlike the Abiyr, he doesn't seem to have anything extraordinary and is completely defenseless, she judged, never losing sight of him. But... I can't shake this sinking feeling... I never had it with the Abiyr…

Ser Janpelan gripped his mace with both hands, increasing the quantity and intensity of the flames enveloping it.

"You said you will kill me?!" he lashed out at the captain. "Are you planning to take your crimes to the greatest extremes?!"

"Crimes? Do you dare to lecture me about morals, you cursed infidel?" The corsair responded with astonished indignation. "Have you forgotten about your own?"

What?!

The warrior was momentarily petrified, but then replied without words. He executed a violent horizontal sweep with his mace, sending a fan of fire towards his opponent. The corsair smiled nonchalantly. Wisely, he refrained from retreating or moving aside as many would have done. The captain inferred that such movements would not be enough to escape the flames and thus certain death.

How?!

Astonished, Ser Janpelan watched as the captain leaped forward just as the fire was about to engulf him. The corsair soared over him like a seagull, performing an aerial somersault before landing behind him.

"Bastard!"

Ser Janpelan spun around, attempting to catch him off guard with a powerful vertical strike. The spikes of the mace bit into and shattered the stone. Once again, the captain eluded death, executing a backward jump that rivaled that of a circus acrobat.

"I have prepared for years for this encounter," Baharen declared with overflowing confidence. "I know what to expect from you, Ser Janpelan of Salamandera, and I have the perfect countermeasure to defeat you. That's why you will be the first Holy Warrior to fall beneath my cutlass. Beneath the cutlass of Baharen Ibad! Captain of the Jinnad of the Seas!"

Ibad! Ser Janpelan's eyes widened, understanding everything. This guy must be...!

"Ser Janpe!" a voice shouted from the distance.

It was the soldier who had brought him the news several minutes earlier. Baharen's men quickly spotted him and easily forced him to surrender, preventing him from relaying the crucial piece of information. But it was already too late.

Baharen raised his cutlass.

"Protereus!" he cried out to the skies.

A crystal gem on the hilt of the cutlass shimmered with a blue glow.

Janpelan shook his head from side to side, immediately noticing that something had changed. The previously calm waters of the pier began to churn and collide with the stone as if a storm was raging, despite the clear sky above.

"Ah?!"

Father!

Suddenly, the water around him did more than just ripple. It rose up in two massive, self-contained masses on either side, crashing into his body with undeniable speed.

What... what the hell did he do?!

Dazed by the powerful impact, Ser Janpelan struggled to maintain his balance. He felt the cold water drenching his body, cascading down in foamy streams.

My flames! Regaining his senses, he horrifiedly observed himself. I can no longer summon them!

The extensive moisture had completely extinguished them and would ensure that he would be unable to reignite them for a considerable time.

This is what my premonition was about!

Luciara witnessed the scene with the same desperation, barely containing her screams.

That Ayarian can control nefesh through that sword, and not only that! The element he commands is water! Exactly the one that can nullify our flames! Even our pyromantic art is subject to the most basic laws of nature! These reflections only fueled her anguish.

Damn it! I'm too far away to help him. She observed the unfortunate messenger, who had been forced to his knees with his arms and legs bound in a corner, and also noted the numerous corsairs guarding him. And it's too risky for me to approach with those wretches guarding his back. If I do, they could overwhelm me with their superior numbers, and worse, they would alert him, and I would lose the opportunity to catch him off guard with a Somnoro Sagittam, the only thing I could use to bring him down with my current knowledge... He's lost! I can't do anything!

She lowered her head, feeling helpless under the weight of adverse circumstances. She was starting to give up.

No! I have to do something!

In the end, she refused to abandon hope and regained her determination.

There must be some way I can save him... I have to find it.

Her agile mind quickly came up with an idea. An idea, however, that filled her with great doubts.

Absurd, completely absurd. None of the 'craziness' he has criticized me for would compare to that... He is a...!

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

"Ah?!"

A voice accompanied by depraved laughter behind her startled her out of her thoughts. As she turned around, she found herself surrounded by at least five or six corsairs from all directions.

"My, aren't you beautiful," the one who appeared to be their leader said, looking her up and down, appreciating the quality and design of her dress. "You must be a Lady."

The malevolent looks and smiles they gave her were enough to make her pale with the intentions they implied. Now, not only her father but also she herself were in great trouble.

Only someone could save them. Someone whom she would have ample reasons to reconsider.