The Sapphire Eruption, page 2
part #1 of The Sword's Choice Series
“He… He has not bled!” Thommes said in a choked voice.
It could only mean one thing. The cut did not summon a single drop of blood; it only issued an orange flash. But that was not all. Distra, which was lying on the tabletop, had turned into a reddish color, issuing as much heat as it had the day it was forged. Then the sword was engulfed in flames for a brief moment. Then the flames disappeared, with Distra looking like a regular sword again.
Thommes could not believe his eyes. After so much time, so many stories, so many frustrations, there was finally an heir.
“Contemplate the Ascendant Phoenix! Our future king!” roared Thommes, pointing at the little boy who was still crying on the table. He knelt on the ground as he watched with great joy and astonishment how the ritual had finally worked. An heir was chosen after all those years.
The two soldiers, who had been absorbed by the show, finally reacted. The youngest could not avoid setting aside the protocol and jumping joyfully to welcome the new king. It was an honor to witness such an act. The other soldier, however, after understanding the situation, acted quickly, drawing his sword and piercing it into the stomach of the woman, who fell to the ground in a pool of blood. After that, releasing his bloody sword, he approached the table in order to kill the Ascendant Phoenix, but at the last second Thommes placed himself in the middle and was skewered, dying instantaneously. After such a show, the young soldier drew his sword and charged against his mate with fury.
“Traitor! Human waste! You’ll pay for this, damn bastard!”
“We have to obey the orders, Lumio!”
Lumio was gaining ground. He lunged forward, thrusting his sword, but the other soldier managed to block the attack. Both blades clashed with a clanky noise. Again the young soldier lunged, but his enemy parried the attack. His strokes were no more accurate than those of his rival, but they were full of fury.
“Orders?” said Lumio as he thrust with all his might. “No one in his right mind would want to kill the future king!”
Lumio feinted this time, misleading a thrust to his enemy’s chest. As his opponent fell into the diversion, he tried to parry the attack once more but discovered too late that the young soldier’s sword was in fact not aimed at his chest but at his head. He tried to retreat but it was too late. He could only witness with horror how the blade was getting close to his neck.
The soldier’s sharp sword sliced smoothly through the other soldier’s neck, his head falling with a thud to the floor while his body collapsed quietly on the ground, blood soaking into the floorboards, creating a pool.
After sheathing the sword quickly, he approached Thommes, wanting to help him. But sadly he found he had already died. When Lumio heard a light sound, he turned to where the woman lay. Was she still alive? he wondered. She was lying on the floor, close to the door. He kneeled down to her. Her clothes were soaked with blood. She would not live long. The soldier tried to attend to her anyways, but she grabbed his hand tightly.
“Take my son away from here,” she said in a choked voice. “Please!”
After these words, the woman moaned and stopped breathing.
The young soldier looked at the woman, who had closed her eyes. She had died entrusting her son’s life to him. The man got up and began to murmur a prayer for their souls as he made his way to the table where the baby was. The baby watched him with his tiny peanut-brown eyes. They were not as beautiful as his mother’s. His pink chubby arms moved slowly. He had come out completely unharmed. The soldier looked at the little one, feeling sorry for him. He had lost his mother and was not even aware of it. The baby had remained impassive to what had happened, totally oblivious to the bloodbath that had occurred around him.
After making sure that the little one was safe, the soldier turned to pick up Distra, which was lying on the floor. The sword was near Thommes’s lifeless body. The soldier approached it cautiously, for it had recently been completely engulfed in flames. When he picked the sword up by the hilt, however, he did not notice any heat, so he ran a finger slightly over its edge, discovering with astonishment that the steel of the sword was cold, as if nothing had happened.
The young soldier tearfully took the child and Distra. He left the sanctuary and headed to his horse. He knew what he had to do. For a brief pause, he hesitated. What about his wife and his two daughters? he thought, then he shook his head. The life of the phoenix was at stake. He could take no risks. He had to leave the kingdom.
* * *
Hours later, one of the captains of the Sons of the Flame prostrated himself in front of the king, he was a stout man with dark olive skin. Wulkan was sitting on the throne, the copper crown over his long, straight black hair. His thick eyebrows were arched, and his dark-brown eyes looked worried and severe. He was a tall man with broad shoulders. Despite being more than one hundred years old, he had the appearance of a forty-year-old, thanks to the power of the sacred swords of fire.
“Tavio, tell me you have found Distra?” said the king, his hoarse voice harsh as usual. Wulkan did not like to beat around the bush, especially when his reign was at stake.
“We searched the area. In the sanctuary there were three bodies: a woman, the priest Thommes, and one of our soldiers… Arsio.” While mentioning the soldier’s name, Tavio could not help looking down. “After examining the scene, everything seems to indicate that Arsio killed the woman and Thommes, then fought the other soldier, Lumio, who killed him. We believe Lumio took the sword, along with the baby…”
“Get him immediately!” said the king violently. “Do not rest until you bring back my sword.”
“What about the baby, Your Grace?” asked the soldier.
The king didn’t answer. Instead he gave him a fierce look. The soldier nodded and left the place, while ordering his soldiers to immediately capture the fugitive.
CHAPTER 1. The training
Noakhail trained with his father, Lumio, in the art of the sword. Their practice together took place every day, as long as Lumio did not have to act as a personal guard for some wealthy merchant. They lived in Naer, a village in the Queendom of Water, known as the Aquadom, far from the main city, where the palace was located, and prudently separated from Firia. The former soldier now had a receding hairline. His hair was dyed dark blond, hiding his naturally grey-black color, and some lines had begun to show across his forehead. Physically, he was still in very good shape, thanks to his constantly training with his son. Noakhail was taller than his father. He was athletic due to his intensive training, and he could not remember a single day when he had not trained.
Lumio carried a sword and a shield while Noakhail brandished two swords. Both fought with fervor, throwing hard cuts that the other had to then avoid or parry. Noakhail’s thin lips usually showed a smile, even as he fought with his swords. He had inherited his passion for combat from his father, so much so that his brown eyes shined brightly with each thrust. The steel blades clashed restlessly, thundering over the field. The two men, who practiced daily, took the training very seriously. Noakhail’s dyed-blond hair danced as he performed a short quick thrust that he hoped would catch his father unprepared; however, Lumio parried the attack with his shield while making a feint and delivering a strong kick to Noakh’s chest, throwing him to the ground.
“Do not leave yourself so exposed!” Lumio reproached Noakh as he urged him to stand up. “Every time you attack, you expose your body too much. You become vulnerable! Use your weapons properly—attack with one, defend with the other. Your fighting technique is too direct and aggressive.”
“But Father,” the young apprentice complained after pressing his square jaw. “A strike like that would end most fights! Most soldiers would not be able to defeat a strategy consisting of cuts such as the one I just performed.”
“It’d be enough if only one of your rivals could do so,” answered Lumio, shaking his head. “Noakhail, your life is very important. You have a lot to fight for. Don’t let your stubbornness prevent you from achieving victory.”
“If my stubbornness gets in my way, I’ll defeat it, like I would any other opponent!” he said proudly. “I have decided, Father, I want to be a soldier. I will be part of the Aquadom’s army.”
Hearing the wishes of his son, Lumio grew enraged.
“Never! Noakhail, you will not become a soldier of this queendom… not while I’m alive!”
“I’ve made the decision, Father, and even you cannot change my mind!” Noakh said furiously. He had the temperament of his true people; it was in his blood.
“You cannot,” said Lumio, his voice faltering. He sheathed his sword and left.
Noakhail did not know how to react, so he stared blankly as his father walked away. This was the first time his father had abandoned a training session—and that meant a lot. No matter how much Noakh might implore his father to end the sessions early because of the pain in his hands, or how hard it might be snowing, they had never stopped training—not for a single day since he could remember. Had his words been so serious as to offend his father?
His father could be so stubborn, the boy thought. He wouldn’t even call him Noakh, as the villagers did. He always had to address him by his full name, Noakhail, no matter how much he insisted he preferred to be called simply Noakh. His full name was weird, as most of the children in the village had mockingly pointed out when they had first heard it. He liked Noakh better. It was still an uncommon name, but at least it was shorter and easier to pronounce.
Although there was much he did not understand, he knew that while the rest of the children had played, he had trained with his father tirelessly. His skills with the sword were more advanced than many soldiers in the queendom, despite the fact he was still a young boy. He noticed how his frustration turned into anger. For him, so much training made sense only if he became a soldier. Otherwise, what was the value of learning so much? He had mentioned his decision thinking that it would make his father proud, for being a soldier was the only dignified way to use everything he had been taught in combat. Did his father want him to follow in his footsteps as a bodyguard? It did not make sense. His father kept telling him that it was not the job for him; he always told Noakhail that he had been born for a better life. What else could he use his swordsmanship skills for? The idea of using them to commit robberies made him smile. Perhaps his father wanted him to assault people during the night, he thought ironically.
He looked to the sky. The clouds began to gather, their grey color predicting rain. If there were a war, I could fight alongside my father. It would be an honor to show him how much I have learned in all these years, he thought. He would see how there is no rival to defeat me, not in this kingdom or anywhere else!
It was true that somehow they were in a state of war. Firia had declared war on the Aquadom almost two decades ago, but apparently, even though the conflict was still supposedly ongoing, there had not been a single attack by the Fireos. Nevertheless, the Aquo Army had increased its numbers, expecting that those fools might attack at any moment. Fireos were an unpredictable people, so for the last twenty years the citizens of the Aquadom had lived in fear of an attack, which right up until today had not happened.
Noakh lay carelessly down on the ground, raising a small cloud of dust. He was in the backyard of his house, a small hut where he and Lumio lived. It was a modest dwelling. They did not have any luxuries. By Aquo standards, they almost lived in poverty. However, they did not need anything other than clothing, shelter, food, and a place to practice their swordsmanship without being disturbed.
A thought ran through his mind: Tomorrow was his birthday. Just thinking about it, he felt a sense of sadness. The moment was supposed to be a joyous time—a time when he was supposed to be with his family. Tradition dictated that the birthday boy had to go to the nearest river and spill a jar of water into it, this being the way in which the Aqua Deus was thanked for its creation.
Although he no longer placed any importance on religion, when he was a child he had not avoided feeling like an outcast. He had been the only one who did not go down to the river with his family to perform the ritual. He once asked his dad about it, wondering why he had decided not to fulfill their religious obligations. But every time he asked, Lumio listened and laughed while completely denying Noakh’s request.
As if that were not enough, the rest of the children in town made fun of him, because the tradition stated that the children had to spill the jar of water while accompanied by their mother. Noakh did not even know his mother; his father had told him she died shortly after his birth. Curiously, despite the fact that he could not remember his mother at all, he felt his chest tightened when he thought of her. His father didn’t want to talk about his mother, something that had upset Noakh many times during his childhood.
Lying on his back, Noakh heard a low noise, almost imperceptible without the sixth sense of a trained swordsman. He took one of his swords, all of which were still lying on the field, and turning on his stomach while leaning on the ground, he reflexively raised his sword to block a treacherous attack from behind. The two swords collided against each other, causing a loud clang.
Lumio faced him, smiling, his shield held high to parry the next blow.
“I leave for a few minutes—and you’re lazing around?” said Lumio.
Noakh could tell that his father was faking disappointment while trying to hide his pride. The boy had been able to parry his father’s attack. Lumio had clearly been watching him for a long time, waiting for the proper moment, hoping that Noakh would become distracted so that he could initiate the attack as stealthily as possible. Although his father was still evidently angry at his decision, he seemed to have decided to use that energy in a positive way: to train Noakhail a little harder. He probably figured that doing so would cause Noakh to forget the choice he had made, which his father thought was stupid.
Noakh did not answer. He knew that his father would have skillfully countered any justification on his part. Instead, he decided to make a feint so he could retrieve his other sword.
“Your attack has been too slow, and it followed the wind’s direction,” said Noakh, confessing how he had been able to detect the attack. “Even a child could have parried it,” he mocked.
As always, Noakh’s arrogance was answered by a skillful attack from Lumio—a combination of feints with his sword and his shield. Noakh tried to avoid Lumio’s attack with the sword, but it served only as a distraction for a much more powerful attack with the shield. The shield impacted Noakh’s head sharply. He stepped back, falling to the ground, shocked by the stroke.
Sighing, Lumio helped him get up. Noakh, still stunned, grabbed his father’s hand while rubbing the spot where he had been hit. His sight was still slightly blurry. Although Lumio was probably aware that perhaps he had hit Noakh too strongly, he did not apologize. As his father had stated countless times before, Noakh’s enemies were not going to show him any mercy from the first moment they confronted him.
“You have never used that move before,” Noakh complained, his pride more hurt than his head. He had learned to read his father’s movements—useful knowledge, both to prevent a successful attack and to take advantage of a blow.
“In every fight, you have to try something new. Remember yesterday’s lesson?”
“Never repeat two blows in a row, unless it’s a ruse for an unexpected move,” Noakh recited, realizing that was exactly what his father had done. His face turned red with both anger and shame. How could he have forgotten that?
Lumio smiled, seemingly realizing that his son had noticed his strategy. He reached out and began to shake Noakh’s blond hair hardily. For Noakh, it was frustrating how his father, one way or another, always managed to defeat him. Even though he realized Lumio was finding it harder and harder to fight him, Noakh was aware his father was still a skillful fighter. He had been a soldier after all, even though his father didn’t like to mention it. He had said it just once, and then he had tried to change the subject quickly, but Noakh always remembered being marveled by the idea. That was why he wanted to be a soldier: He looked up his father so much. He wanted to be like him, not only as a fighter but also as a man. But he still had a lot to learn.
They kept talking for a while, waiting for Noakh to feel better. Afterwards, they fought tirelessly, their swords clashing repeatedly—the pupil trying to defeat the master, the master proving the pupil was not yet ready. They fought, no matter if it was so dark nothing could be seen.
CHAPTER 2. The fire sword
Today was his birthday. His seventeenth. Noakh got up as usual, as it was not a special day at all—it was just changed by the fact that he would have to go into town that afternoon to buy a good piece of lamb. Somehow, eating lamb on his birthday had become a tradition.
He stood in his room, stretching and yawning. It had always been hard for him to sleep. On the other hand, in the mornings it was even harder to wake up. His room was cramped. There was little space but the bed and an old wardrobe where he stored his clothes—and of course his swords resting on the wall. The planks of his room creaked as he passed through them, unconsciously avoiding the plank beneath the door, which he had stumbled upon more than once.
He looked out the window. He saw that Lumio was already awake: Today was his day off and he was fixing one of the wooden fences in the outdoor courtyard. Apparently some insects had eaten it away. Noakh walked to the kitchen and picked up some bread and cheese for himself from a wooden table and picked up another portion for his father.
As he opened the door, rain started to fall softly. Rain was not unusual in the Aquadom; according to Aquo beliefs, this was the way the Aqua Deus washed away the sins of his followers. Lumio used to joke that, given how often it rained in the queendom, the Aquos had to be sinning all day long.
Noakh approached the courtyard and offered his father his portion of bread and cheese while he was still hammering the fence into place, completely absorbed in his work. He did not even seem to have noticed his son’s presence until he raised his arm to take his food, without deviating from his work.
