Jaleigh Johnson - Unbroken Chain

“What have you done, Vedoran?” Uwan cried.

“I have become everything I was made to be,” Vedoran said. “A Blite on Ikemmu.”

Uwan stared at him in disbelief. “This bloodshed is not you,” he said. “The Beshabans have poisoned your mind, taken away your honor.”

Vedoran laughed. “No, my Lord,” he said. “My mind was a foul place before the Beshabans found it. I have you to thank for that. When I kill your emissary”-he swept a hand at Ashok-“you will have no one but yourself to blame.”

Uwan drew his sword, but he did not enter the cell. There was no room to fight there, and Vedoran was dangerous in close combat. Ashok remembered his skill in the tunnels when he’d been hounded by enemies from all sides.

“I didn’t think Vedoran would allow himself to be ruled by envy,” Uwan said. He paced outside the cage bars.

“You think that’s what this is?” Vedoran said. He took a step away from Ashok. He’d not fully grasped Uwan’s bait, but he was distracted.

Ashok tried to get up. He made it to his knees and fell hard on the stone floor. He cursed his weakness, but his faint voice was drowned out by Vedoran’s laughter.

“Stay still, little one,” Vedoran taunted him. “I’ll come back for you soon.” He turned his attention to Uwan. “Did you ever see the vistas of the empire, Uwan?”

“Netheril has no place here,” Uwan said. He backed up to let Vedoran exit the cell and took up a defensive stance.

“Now who speaks with envy in his voice?” Vedoran said as he struck his sword off Uwan’s. But the leader did not flinch. “Isn’t that what you would create here-an empire of your own, with shrines to Tempus in every hall?”

“We can’t forsake the gods entirely, Vedoran,” Uwan said. “The shadar-kai need guidance.”

“Tempus’s guidance, and everyone else be damned,” Vedoran said. “That was the law you made, and that is the law that will break you as it broke Natan.”

He surged forward, and steel rang off steel. Uwan absorbed Vedoran’s slash off the edge of his blade, and the bitter shriek hurt Ashok’s ears. Uwan countered with a low thrust aimed to hamstring Vedoran. Ashok knew the blow would never land, and he marveled anew at Vedoran’s speed as he leaped back, pushed himself off the wall, and came into the fray again.

Ashok dragged himself to his cell door and used the bars to lever himself up. He had to put weight on his feet and get the blood moving through his dead limbs. Pain shot up his arms as he strained to climb the bars. He finally got his feet under him and let his weight drop. The pain was excruciating. He gripped the bars and shook.

The pain-he hadn’t inflicted so much on himself in over a month, but his body remembered what it was, and his mind cleared of every thought but staying on his feet. He would endure the pain, use it, and then go after Vedoran.

Outside the cell, Uwan’s fight continued. The leader had worked Vedoran around into a corner. With his back to the wall, Vedoran teleported in a blur of shadows that flew around Uwan and coalesced behind him into a wraithlike image of Vedoran.

Uwan turned and thrust automatically. The weapon was an extension of his instincts, and when it passed through Vedoran’s shadowy form, Uwan lost his balance. Fortunately, in his incorporeal form, Vedoran couldn’t take physical advantage of the misstep. He laughed at Uwan instead.

“You wanted to end this quickly,” Vedoran said. “I can see it in your movements. But this isn’t that kind of fight. You’ve forgotten I didn’t start out training with your military. I was trained by the sellswords of Pyton. We don’t fight with fever in our minds.”

“True,” Uwan said. He eased back to catch his breath. “But I’ve seen the fighters of Pyton and Hevalor. They fight with grace, but it’s a soulless dance. That’s what holds you back from being a truly great warrior, Vedoran. You don’t fight for anything but your own survival.”

“Survival isn’t enough,” Ashok said. Speaking was a chore, but he could feel his quivering muscles beginning to balance him again. He didn’t dare let go of the bars yet, but he was gaining strength.

Ashok caught Uwan looking at him, assessing his condition. He gave the leader a quick shake of his head, a warning to keep his head in the fight.

Vedoran’s shadows fled, his body solidified, and Uwan waded back into the fight as if it had never ceased. They drove each other round and round, into corners, trapping blades, and just when it seemed one would take the other, someone would teleport to escape death.

Ashok couldn’t count how many times they repeated the duel cycle, nor did he know how long they could maintain their pace. Both showed signs of fatigue. Uwan’s hair stuck to his face in soaking ropes, and Vedoran’s breath came fast and loud in the quiet chamber.

“Would it make any difference, Vedoran, if I told you I was wrong?” Uwan said when he’d taken on his own wraith shape for a brief respite. “I wronged you and the other warriors who do not stand for Tempus. If you would let me, I would make amends.”

Necrotic energy sizzled in the air around him. So much shadar-kai magic in one place seemed to draw the energy of the Shadowfell to them.

Ashok thought of the living shadows pulling at his body and shuddered. He flexed his muscles and released the bars, testing himself. The room tilted and spun. He grabbed the bars before he fell, ramming his palm against the metal in frustration.

Meanwhile, Vedoran regarded Uwan in amusement. “You don’t have Natan to whisper in your ear anymore. If I’d have known his death would bring about such clarity, I’d have killed him long ago.”

Uwan shook his head, refusing to take the bait. “It was never Natan. He wouldn’t punish anyone for not sharing his beliefs. I made the choice, because I thought it was best for Ikemmu to be united, and what better banner of strength could we have to stand under? I thought the rest of the city would see it my way eventually.”

“Netheril thought much the same,” Vedoran said.

“Yes,” Uwan said. “But you always make your choices with the best intentions. You tell yourself you won’t let it end that way, not this time. Isn’t that what you told yourself, Vedoran, when you swore your oath to Beshaba?”

“But your crime was worse,” Ashok said. When Vedoran glared at him, he said, “You had no faith to give them, only the show of it. It isn’t too late. You can retain your honor.”

As he spoke, Uwan became corporeal. Vedoran didn’t see it, and Uwan raised his sword. He came in sharply at the left before Vedoran could get up a defense. The leader put his blade at Vedoran’s throat, but he held the strike.

“Yield,” Uwan said. “Do as Ashok says: keep your honor, redeem yourself.”

“In Tempus’s eyes?” Vedoran spat. “Work your blade, Uwan. Your god will never save me.”

“Not Tempus,” Ashok said. He met Uwan’s eyes over the raised steel. “Earn forgiveness from Natan, from yourself.”

“From Uwan,” Vedoran said.

Uwan shook his head. “There’s no need-”

The words ended in a choked gurgle. Uwan stumbled back and dropped his sword. It clattered on the stone amid Ashok’s cries of fury.

Vedoran released the hilt of the dagger he’d been holding, the blade now buried in Uwan’s chest. The leader grasped the hilt and pulled the blade free before he collapsed on the ground.

“Now you can forgive me,” Vedoran said as he kicked Uwan’s greatsword across the room and turned to face Ashok. “You’re next,” he said.

“You bastard,” Ashok said. “You worthless, twisted creature.” He released the bars. His muscles trembled, but now it was pure rage, a longing for the release that came with killing. Vedoran had done more to invigorate him, to call back the nightmare’s master, than he would ever know.