I walked through the empty doorframe of a roofless hall to the outside of the palace, considering that the term 'outside' was very nuanced in that place. What should have been a garden was overtaken by trees, like the rest of the city. Defying the forest, a few descendants of the exotic plants from the original garden survived, producing some of the most beautiful flowers I had ever seen, with subtle shades of blue and yellow, around a partially buried and long-dried fountain. It was a place of tragic beauty that gave me a bittersweet sense of awe.
Garaktinur was there alone, a green giant marred by terrible scars, sitting in a crooked tree. I could not say if he clashed with this wild garden or fit right in.
“When they told me where to find you, I never imagined you would be in a place like this.” I approached him with a sense of confidence I lacked yesterday. It was not as if he was less intimidating, but somehow, I was able to bear it with more grace.
“It is a weakness of my soul, brought on by old age, that instead of the thrill of combat or the embrace of my wives, I crave the solitude of this place the most.” He turned to face me, giving a subtle nod of recognition. “Good day, Emissary, shall we continue with our discussion?”
I sat on the stone body of a toppled statue. I had been able to take a bath and was wearing the simple dress that was my usual attire, the first time in days that I was able to wear proper clothing. Simple things, but they helped me maintain my composure.
“Yesterday, you asked what I was.” I steeled myself and looked straight into his eye. “The truth is, I am nobody of importance. I was a slave inside that wall when your army attacked, afraid beyond belief, surrounded by mountains of corpses and drenched in gore. I gained the power the man in red armor possessed by accident. If the Gods from the Abyss or the eight Gods of the humans have some plan for me, I was not briefed on it.
“I don’t speak for the Gods of the Abyss; I don’t even know what they are, and I don’t believe the Armored Sorcerer had a better grasp of the Gods’ wishes than I do.”
Garaktinur gave a discrete, sympathetic smile, his posture softening a bit. He got up and walked a few steps as if contemplating my words.
“There is one thing that you got wrong: it is not you that must know the will of the Gods, what the Gods desire is that we follow you. Ultimately, it is your will that is the will of the Gods.”
To say I was confused would be an understatement.
“Why would the Gods give power to someone and not care about how that power was used?”
He shrugged.
“Every creature that share blood with the Abyss, from the lowest shadow ant to the mightiest of the Cataclysms, instinctively knows that the Gods sacrifice themselves so that life could flourish in that accursed land. There was no life there when that occurred, no one to remember them or pass their words. We know nothing about them, whether they were one or many, if they had dogmas, if they had any reason at all to create us. We don’t know if they were even gods to start with.”
Seal of the forgotten Gods. Now that name made sense.
“So, Emissary, what is your will?”
I also stood up and walked a little, hovering my hand over a lush shrub with tiny purple flowers that had a strong sweet perfume. How I would phrase this response would determine if Garaktinur would see me as an ally or an enemy.
"I have a mandate from the Queen to pacify this forest, keeping the surrounding villages safe, and to open the roads that traverse it so we can reestablish commerce. If you agree not to attack our lands and ensure the roads are safe for caravans, the Kingdom of Central will promise not to attempt to remove your people from this area, as long as you maintain the peace. But this is what Central wants…
“What I desire is something simple that I suspect you also do: I just don’t want another war. I am not naive to believe that we will forget all the atrocities and be friends, but if we can at least find a way to coexist and avoid a major conflict, that would be enough for now.”
Garaktinur let slip an amused laughter. “You have the means to raise the armies from the Abyss, and yet you talk of peace.”
“You asked what I desire, and from the bottom of my heart, this is the one thing I want.” My eyes dropped and without realizing my tone became melancholic. “I don’t want to live through another war, to heal children only for them to die minutes later, or to feel happy because someone else was killed instead of me…” For an instant, I felt my mind being dragged to a bad place, but I forced myself to refocus; this was not the time for that. “Do you think that if I requested, the other monsters here would agree with Central’s terms?”
“For a time, yes,” Garaktinur replied, scratching his chin. “But those who would give their lives for you are not necessarily the ones who would live by your tenets. Over time, the feelings they have for you will run their course; they can either take root or turn sour depending on your actions. Make them bow their heads to cowards who shoot at us from behind a wall, and I assure you it will be the latter.
“The voice of the Gods gives you the authority of a ruler, but you don’t have anything else backing that. They respect you,” he looked me up and down, “but they have no reason to fear you.
“Power is based on two things: respect and fear. Mercy and kindness have their uses; they will help you earn respect, but without fear, that respect will wane and fail you in the long run. If you truly want peace, you must be capable of doing terrible things.”
It was a harsh view of life, but he alone kept this disparate mob of monsters functional, so I was not one that could fault his logic. I inquired:
“In Cartographer’s Bane there are human cities that live close to monster settlements, is that right?” He nodded affirmatively. “How can you coexist with them?”
“Respect and fear.” He spoke as if he was stating the obvious. “Sometimes we had warred with those humans in the past and knew of their value. Sometimes they would send their best warriors to duel with our best. This can take many forms, but if they show virtues we respect and can demonstrate that fighting them will not be worth the risk, we usually leave them alone.”
Respect and fear. If this is the monster’s mindset, maybe I should work with it and not against it … I pondered, suddenly realizing that Garaktinur already gave the answer I was looking for.
“If this is how things are, I just had a terrible idea ...”
***
“Gift, that was the most reckless plan I ever saw you come up with. I am so proud!” Uther said excitedly while inspecting his sword for dents or cracks.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Thank you master, I learned from the worst.” I replied, kneeled behind him, tightening the buckles of his greaves. “But are you sure you want to do this? It is a duel between you and their best warrior, even not being a fight to the death, it is still very risky, accidents can happen, and we don’t have any healing potion.”
“Let me see, on the one hand I have the most thrilling duel of my life, on the other I have many hours of boring diplomatic talk. What to choose...?”
“I don’t know why I even asked ...” I got up and hit my skirt to get the dirt away. “Done, all the buckles are tight, and all straps were checked. You are good to go.”
We stood on the central stage of a building that the monsters used as an arena. It was likely an open-air theater before time consumed it, with rows of stone benches and a central stage with some broken columns. It was in better condition than most of the city; the overgrown areas had been cleared, and some repairs had been made. It was probably used frequently for entertainment or as a quick way to settle disputes.
Anyone that could attend the event was there, filling the benches and the surrounding buildings that had a view of the central stage. There was a primal excitement in the crowd.
The plan I had come up with was to use my power to convince the population of this village to agree with the terms of the treaty, but I would use their own customs to frame it as an agreement between honorable enemies, not as a peace treaty. I could convey the values and power of Central to them, but not in a vacuum. I needed a demonstration.
For that reason, after a brief speech that I just used to trigger the effect of the Seal, I proposed a duel between their best warrior and my bodyguard. To them, Uther was an elite warrior tasked with protecting an important envoy, but what they did not know was that Uther was the best warrior Central had. If they believed that this level of skill was common in Central, I am sure they would agree with the stalemate style peace they were used to. Respect and fear, as Garaktinur would say.
Uther wore his light armor, wielding a sword and small shield. His gear was plain, with no adornments, and bore the scratches and dents of well-worn equipment, more akin to that of a mercenary than a noble. This wear was not due to poor quality; on the contrary, Uther had used these arms for so long that they had become an extension of his body.
Garaktinur entered the arena, walking slowly in our direction under the thunderous cheer of the crowd.
And then he turned right, walking toward an empty place in the front row, and sat there.
I kept staring at him. I kind of assumed that he was the greatest warrior of the village, and that would be him fighting Uther.
As if reading my thoughts, he replied, pointing his thumbs in his direction: “Me? No, no, no. I am too old for this. Honor duels is a thing for the young, but I assure you that I selected someone that will not disappoint you.” He had a wicked smile that sent a chill to my spine.
Uther touched my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Gift. No matter who my adversary is, I will win.”
We simultaneously turned our heads to see the adversary enter the arena, and all bravado vanished from Uther’s expression.
The opponent had the upper body of a muscular human, but the head and lower body of a bull. He was almost two times the height of Uther and wielded a gigantic war axe.
The minotaur wore no armor except for a crude breast plate hammered together from assorted pieces of salvaged steel. His posture was relaxed, and his eyes betrayed no fear or anticipation. If anything, he looked bored, as if what he was about to do was so beneath him that he felt offended to be called to do it.
Garaktinur was intimidating, but this was at a whole new level.
“Do you mind if I get a little bit worried?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off the terrifying creature.
“If it is only a little, I will allow it.” Uther replied, trying to suppress a quiver in his voice.
I stared at the minotaur as he approached, my head raising as I tried to keep track of his looming form. He stood next to me and bowed respectfully.
“Emissary, I came to show you the value of our people,” he said, looking at Uther with an expression of disdain. “But I must ask your forgiveness, as this will end too quickly to be proper entertainment.”
My mind was in full second-guessing mode as I tried to mount some form of reply. I was about to call this fight off as I felt Uther’s hand on my arm, gently pushing me to the side.
“This piece of steak is going down...” he mumbled, his eyes sparking and his mouth curved into an evil grin.
It looks like picking a fight is one of those things that transcend language barriers.
That was out of my hands. I reticently walked towards the benches and sat next to Garaktinur in a spot he had reserved for me.
Uther stood in attention with the sword raised in front of him, the ritual stance to start a duel in the tradition of Central. The minotaur raised his axe high with both hands and emitted a deafening hoar. Without wasting a second, the monster lunged at Uther, the head of his axe descending like a meteor.
Uther took a step to the left.
The strike missed by a hair thickness, hitting the ground and cracking the stone floor. Not waiting for his opponent to regain his footing the minotaur twisted his body, dragging the axe, and slashed.
Uther ducked.
He missed but continued the movement and stroked at an angle.
Uther deflected the blow, hitting the shaft with his sword below the axe head.
“You told this minotaur that this was not a fight to the death, didn’t you?” I enquired Garaktinur, not even trying to mask the worry in my voice.
“Your bodyguard is not dead, is he?” Garaktinur replied without taking his eyes off the fight. “This human is good; he should be fine. Probably.”
Not feeling very reassured I continued to watch the fight.
The minotaur prepared another vertical blow but pulled back the shaft and struck with the butt. The feint partially succeeded, striking Uther’s breastplate. He realized in time and absorbed the impact, backing off several steps with a severe dent in his armor. It was a testament to the armor smith’s skill that the fight did not end there.
The minotaur had a huge advantage in reach and strength that Uther was trying to mitigate with speed and technique, but the aggressiveness of the monsters was keeping him on the defensive.
They kept exchanging blows, the minotaur striking relentlessly. If he was tiring, he showed no sign of it.
I watched Uther duel enough times to realize when he was up to something. He was deflecting with his sword attacks that he would normally dodge or block with the shield, always hitting below the axe head.
His efforts paid off the moment the monster raised his axe for another strike and the axe head flew away with a snap sound. The minotaur looked at the broken shaft fuming with rage, his knuckles white and eyes so red that they were almost glowing. It was not that he was now unarmed, the shaft still worked as a club, but things were more balanced in terms of reach.
“And this is why you check the condition of your arms before a fight.” Uther teased without lowering his guard.
The monster replied with a roar and charged, but Uther expected that and positioned himself so that the columns that peppered the stage would stay in the way of the minotaur.
If that was a fight to the death, Uther would start so wear his opponent with cuts in preparation for a fatal blow. If that was a regular duel, he would go for a simulated strike to the heart or neck. Unfortunately, that was neither: Uther did not want to badly hurt his adversary, but it was also unlikely that the minotaur would stop with just a fake attack.
For an instant, it looked like Uther got himself in the open, exposed. The minotaur wasted no time and charged with all his fury.
Uther sheathed the sword and anchored his body to receive the impact on the shield, which was too small for that kind of maneuver.
At that moment I knew the fight was over.
With a wrist movement, Uther threw two pellets in front of him at the height of the minotaur’s head. The pellets exploded as a cloud of white powder and smoke, obscuring the monster view for an instant.
It was all the time Uther needed.
He poured mana into his shield, activating the magical circuit inscribed in it.
That shield was one of professor Locan’s gadgets that mixed traditional magical utility circuitry with mechanical abomination’s scavenged parts. It generated a force barrier in front of it, useful to block low power spells or arrows, but Uther rarely used for its intended purpose.
Using the most focused barrier at maximum distance, he created an orange disc the size of a melon in front of the minotaur’s left knee. The monster hit it at full force, part of the impact was transmitted to the ground, part was transmitted to the shield that Uther struggled to anchor in place.
The device was not meant to deal with that much kinetic energy and the barrier ultimately shattered, but not before throwing the minotaur completely out of balance. He flew spinning and hit his head straight into a column, just as Uther had calculated, pulverizing the stone.
The minotaur turned slowly amid all the rubble, dizzy and confused, and hesitantly tried to get up just to be greeted by a foot on his chest and the tip of a sword on his neck.
“I think we can call it a day” Uther proposed, stepping on the monster to keep it in place with his sword poised for a killing strike.
Under the thunderous cheer of the crowd the minotaur agreed to end the fight by passing out.
