Since a part 2 was requested, here you go.
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He could feel the weariness growing. Mana flowed through him, sustaining the spells that protected him, and allowed him to move with all the speed of a samurai walking the razor’s edge. But the repeated spells took their toll on him, even though so far he’d managed to avoid catching more than a glancing blow. Beside him, breathing hard as well, the strange elf was also still fighting. The rest of the expedition had either been overcome with drain, or had taken refuge when it became clear that their weapons were of no use here. Only Iceblade and the unknown elf were left fighting the creature. But they were winning. At least, he thought they were. The creature’s blows were coming slower now, its attacks less focused.
Circling around the horror in their midst, Iceblade and the elf weaved a dance of death, darting in, feinting, striking, evading, each blow and counter timed to open a chance for the other to attack, or to draw the creature’s attention as the other sprang back after the latest strike. They fought with different styles, but there was no question that this elf was a master of the blade, better than he was. Two blademasters fighting together against the same foe, weaving their attacks as one, it was a thing of beauty to behold. Once, as he slipped out of the path of the creature’s blow, he saw a few of the expedition looking on from their hiding, the glint of the pale light against cybereyes showing that this fight would be recorded, and he had his simrig running. What would he think of this fight later, when the smell of blood in the water wasn’t driving him to the attack? If there was a later, that is.
Finally, the creature lost all its fighting discipline, and charged headlong at the strange elf. Iceblade, not missing a beat, leapt upon the creature’s back, his blade embedding itself in the horror’s flesh between its massive shoulders. The creature reared back, howling in pain, and that moment of distraction was all the strange elf needed. In a flash so fast that he could barely see it, the elf was at the horror’s throat, and his blade cut true, slashing the creature’s gullet. Leaping backwards off the creature’s back, Iceblade watched as its black blood sprayed both him and the other elf in its death throes.
There was a moment’s silence as he flicked the blood off his blade with a sweep of the wrist, before offering a form of salute with the blade to the elf. In Sperethiel, he said,
“They call me Iceblade. Now, perhaps you’ll tell me who you are? And what the flaming drek was THAT?”The laugh was back on the elf’s face now, and he returned the salute. Also in Sperethiel, he said,
“You may call me the Laughing Man, if you please, or perhaps Harlequin. You’re not like those others.” He jerked his head towards where the rest of the expedition was emerging from hiding.
“You saw the Enemy, and still you charged ahead. Why?”“There was blood in the water. How could anyone who follows the Shark turn away?” To a mundane, the response would have been a poor one, perhaps, but anyone who knew about magic, as this elf clearly did, would know that one did not simply pick a totem to follow. As with traditions, the totem a spellcaster followed was a reflection of their psyche, of the way they saw magic, and the world. To someone who knew about magic, that was all the explanation required.
The elf laughed, and for the first time it didn’t seem like a pitiful joke.
“Ah, then it was well you were here guarding the Wordsmyth’s expedition. Well, have you read the Scribe’s words on the cycles of the world? Do you know of the Fourth World, the last age of magic?”Iceblade nodded slowly.
“I’ve heard it discussed, of course. When Prince Ehran was named to the council, his works became popular reading amongst the nobility, especially those who had the Talent. Then this city is some remnant of the Fourth World.” It was not a question. The evidence was obvious, especially given Harlequin’s words.
“And it was sealed off, somewhere, perhaps in a pocket of astral space, until now. What of the creature, then? Some other remnant of the fourth world? Some horror that haunted the deep places? There was an old story of a civilization that lived underground, but dug too deeply and awoke a nameless fear, but that was the dwarves. The writing here looks elven, though very old.”Harlequin smiled at that.
“Not just a fighter, hmm? Well, this creature was one of the Enemy that drove the people of this city to live underground while they ravaged the surface during the high mana times. It seems that this one was able to breach the wards placed around the city, and was trapped when the city faded out of the physical.”Iceblade smirked slightly as he looked at the elf.
“The way you speak of it, it is as though you were there, to see these things firsthand. You certainly had the look of one who knew this Enemy personally. You weren’t simply sightseeing in the Lacuna. You expected something like this to be down here. That is what had been disrupting the spirits sent down by the University ritual teams.”“You must take me for an ancient, to say that I’m so old. Didn’t you learn in school that elves only live a few centuries?”“I also learned that magic has a way of telling everything we thought we knew to go to hell, when it feels like it. Don’t worry, Elder, I won’t spread secrets. But if you were hoping to keep your presence a secret, then I think you’re already too late, since the entire fight was recorded, from several sources. But the ‘Wordsmyth’ as you call him, won’t hear of your presence from me, unless he asks directly.” Iceblade offered Harlequin a bow, of the formal sort used in the courts of Tir Tairngir.
Harlequin laughed out loud at that.
“Oh ho! You’ll win no favors with the Scribe treating me with such reverence, I assure you. But now, enough of such matters. The others approach.”Iceblade looked up to see the others approaching, nervous to be so close to the slain creature, and the two warriors who stood over their fallen foe. Reaching down to the creature’s maw, Iceblade cut out two of the creature’s fangs, and offered one to Harlequin.
“Twice I’ve had a hand in felling a powerful creature before now, and each time I took a trophy.” He pulled from beneath his shirt a rough necklace, little more than a leather thong tied behind his neck. But hanging from that thong were two fangs of great size. Dragon fangs.
“I think this one will go between them. What say you?”Harlequin squinted at Iceblade for a moment, and to the combat mage’s practiced eye, he could tell that the elf had shifted his vision to the astral for a moment, and he did the same. Though the creature was dead, the fading aura from the tooth was inky black, and seemed to roil with malice, even as it stayed completely still. Looking up at Harlequin, he took the offered fang, which roiled like its twin.
“When it has been properly cleansed, it would make for a fine trophy, yes. But I wouldn’t make a focus of it, as you have that first fang on your necklace, until it was thoroughly cleansed of the taint. It would do more harm than good. It may offer power, but such power can corrupt the user, even a careful one.” Iceblade nodded. So, the creature was dangerous, even in death.
“Then what of this sword? I have not seen its like in the Sixth World.”“Once upon a time, Mages needed to hide their use of the Talent from Enemies who would undo their work. Items like that were one way they filtered spells to keep from drawing attention. And yes, it did allow them to use a spell they had not personally learned, if the item was enchanted with a foreign spell.” That revelation, drew the attention of the researchers away from the monster they’d just faced, as Harlequin had no doubt intended it to. As the researchers went to work trying to find more of the artifacts to study, Harlequin moved close, and whispered,
“Keep it well, Iceblade. A blade that has slain a Horror is a rare thing, in this or any age. There once were those who sought to bring the light to combat the Horrors. Perhaps one day you’ll find yourself among them, hmm?” And with a shimmer of light, the elf was gone, leaving Iceblade alone in the town square.
