The Angaran Chronicles: The Ritual, BAD Agar [you can read anyone txt] 📗

again. 'Do you know the longest a neophyte has lasted against me in a sparring match?'

 

'No,' said Alathis, not liking where this was going.

 

'Twenty seconds, do you think you can last any longer?'

 

'I...I don't know.'

 

Kolmath fell into a ready stance. 'Let us find out.'

 

She lunged at him.

 

Her sweeping axe forced Alathis to back-step. Then he sidestepped her downward vertical blow. He stumbled to keep his balance and lashed back with a wild upward diagonal slash. With ease, the vampire wheeled away then darted into a horizontal cut at Alathis' skull. Alathis leaned back from it. Kolmath was holding back, moving at a pace his human eye could follow.

 

His riposte was a diagonal cut headed for her left hip. Kolmath parried it almost contemptuously and sent out a front kick which forced Alathis into scrambling away.

 

Kolmath slipped at him, her axe swinging for his chest.

 

Alathis had no choice but to parry. Her strength far exceeded his; thus, the odds of being disarmed were enormous. But he'd practised for countless hours, for countless days, more so than any other neophyte in the coven and thus his parry was executed with perfection knocking her axe aside at the exact right time.

 

'Nicely done,' she said.

 

Alathis' footwork was seamless as he slipped onto her flank and simultaneously sliced crossword for her throat. Kolmath leaned back, beneath it then swung diagonally up at Alathis' exposed side.

 

In desperation, Alathis blocked, placing his left hand on the blade to reinforce it. It didn't stop the chop but slowed it, allowing him to slide out the way.

 

'Very, very good,' she remarked.

 

'Yeah, it's only because you're going easy.'

 

Kolmath shrugged. 'I am going as hard and as easy as against any senior neophyte before or after you. This is just a sparring match, and the thing is, I want you to last. There would be little for you to learn this if I went all out. You are still only human, Alathis. Once you have been through the Ritual, your reflexes will be on par with mine, perhaps beyond.'

 

'Who knows,' she said, sending Alathis dashing back from another arc of her axe. 'You may receive that mutation, the one that increases a Hunter's strength to that of a vampire's. The odds are against it, but you never know. The only Hunter that has it today is a human named Jelcine.'

 

Alathis nodded as he tried for a stab which caused Kolmath to raise the haft of her axe to block. It was a feint, Alathis reversed it into a vertical downward slash at her skull. But Kolmath seemed bored as she tapped it aside.

 

It almost flung the sword from Alathis' grasp, and he stumbled sideways in his trouble to keep hold of it.

 

Kolmath pushed her offence, slipping at him into an upward crosscut.

 

Alathis back-stepped it and moved more to gain some ground, any ground. In the pause, Alathis realised how short of breath he was.

 

"This...sucks," he managed through his gasps. 'I hate this...gak.'

 

'You are aware that I am not counting the seconds we talk,' said Kolmath. 'Well, to be more precise, when we are not fighting.'

 

He sighed. 'Man!'

 

Then he was on his arse, pain coursing through his side.

 

'You should know by now, not to allow for distraction,' said Kolmath while watching Alathis climb to his feet. 'If you are to survive the Ritual, you mustn't avert yourself.'

 

'What exactly happens in the Ritual?' gasped Alathis.

 

She shrugged and twirled her axe. 'I am a sired vampire, so you know I have not been through it, but have witnessed it many times since I became a teacher. All that I can say is, it seems different for everyone. No Hunter that has lived I have asked about it, have gone into detail. You, I suspect, will not be any different.'

 

Alathis nodded, fighting the disappointment welling within his guts. 'How long did I last?'

 

'Twelve seconds. Not bad, young Alathis.'

 

Alathis sighed. 'Who was it that lasted twenty?'

 

Kolmath smiled, a rare expression for her. 'Her name was Calian after she took her new name.'

 

Alathis' jaw dropped. 'The Calian? Calian who's one of the greatest swordmasters of the Hunters today?'

 

'The very one,' said Kolmath. 'She is up there with Arken and Anargrin in the top three, despite being only a century old. Do not beat yourself up too much for lasting only twelve seconds. When I sparred her, she was not a day from going through the Ritual. She did not have such a distraction, such a fear looming over her. To last twelve seconds despite this is impressive. Take pride, Alathis, in this achievement. But also take it as a lesson.'

 

'I understand,' he said, it wasn't a lie.

 

'You have potential, Alathis,' said Kolmath. 'I saw that the first time we met, but if you are to live up to that potential, you must be aware of your strengths and weaknesses. Yours is fear, anxiety. You feel it stronger than Karetil than most people, in fact, so it is harder for you to hide.'

 

Alathis frowned, his gaze fell to the floor then it hit him. 'Is it a strength or weakness, ma'am?'

 

Kolmath smiled again. 'That is the question I hoped you would ask. That is a skill many do not possess, being able to ask the right question at the right time. In truth, it is both a strength and weakness.'

 

He furrowed his brow. 'I don't understand.'

 

'Do you know the true definition of courage, Alathis? It is not the absence of fear, but being able to face it, conquer it. You declined my offers for the easy way out; you still stood against me despite knowing how much I outclassed you, you still managed to aid her despite-'

 

'No. Don't.'

 

Kolmath shook her head. 'And there it is, that is one thing you will not face, that you allow the fear to rule you on. You are willing to face death itself, or now, at least, but not that. What I am saying is to be proud, have faith in yourself and your courage, and I know you will live through the Ritual. And you might one day be able to face what happened five years ago.'

 

She turned, returned her axe to the wall, then began for the door.

 

'It is not faith, actually,' she said. 'I have given you enough evidence to make it logic, real. I will leave you to think upon this.'

 

'Teacher,' said Alathis as it hit him, causing her to pause at the threshold. 'You took the easy way out, didn't you?'

 

Kolmath didn't turn. 'Maybe I should re-consider my compliment. Maybe you do not ask the right questions, at the right time.'

 

A sudden pain exploded in his chest, like a jagged piece of ice thrust through him, but he held his ground. 'I will take that as a "yes", then.'

 

'So now you know that I speak from the most utmost of experience on fear, Alathis. I wish you luck.'

 

Without a further word, she left.

 

He didn't have the heart for more training, so he went back to the dormitory. The whole way, Alathis kept glancing at the sheathed wooden sword he carried. Five years ago, he was able to wield a real one; it was even sharpened. In this coven, neophytes weren't allowed to use real weapons. But they had another reason to take it from him. He wasn't exactly in a sane state of mind, and he might've used it on himself, when they made it from him he hadn't thought so, but now with hindsight: he knew they were right.

 

He stopped near the dormitory's entranceway.

 

Alathis gripped the sheathed sword harder, his knuckles whitened and bulged, and pain crept up his arm. He clenched his teeth then started on again.

 

He pinned his attention to the bubbling, blue carpet, and shuffled into his room. He was hoping beyond hope that Karetil wouldn't see him or wasn't there.

 

Alathis leapt onto his bed, spinning in mid-air, so he landed on his back. He hid shielded his eyes from the bright light hanging from the ceiling, accidentally brushing his scar on the way.

 

His hand travelled to his cheek. It pushed the thick, unruly fringe from his face and brushed the ragged, ugly scar. With a sharp inhale, he snatched away his hand.

 

Mage-Hunter Vortrik had offered to heal it when he'd first came to the coven, but reason unknown even to Alathis, he refused. Instead, he hid it beneath his hair.

It reminded him of her; she'd given it to him when she...when she.

 

Alathis forced the memory from his thoughts and wished it'd never come back.

 

But still, he kept the scar. Why?

 

He lay there, fighting the sickness wallowing in his guts, trying not to think.

 

He laid there until lights out. He laid there until he finally fell asleep.

 

'One in five.'

 

The familiar soft, lilting, voice caused Alathis' eyes to snap open and the ceiling to wind from a blurred haze into clarity. He gasped and sat; soaked in sweat, his heart thundering.

 

Alathis knew he wouldn't sleep, so grabbed his standard-issue electric flashlight on his side desk. Slipped out of bed and snatched up his sword.

 

Alathis switched on the lights, and they flickered into life, revealing the training room in blasts of white before becoming constant.

 

Since he became a neophyte, Alathis had learned how far ahead Valandri and the Hunters were in terms of technology, having running water and electricity decades before the rest of the continent of Angara.

 

Alathis went to draw his sword, but his hand halted. He couldn't sleep but couldn't train either.

 

He could only remember, and he gazed down at his palms.

 

 

Chapter 3: Of What Came Before

Alathis' hands became the hands of a four-year-old as he drove his toy motor-truck across the cream carpet. It was his room, where he and his mother lived together so long ago.

 

Then screams started, shrill, psychotic — his mother's screams.

 

'Be gone. Begone, devil. I will not have your likes here.'

 

Alathis flinched, shivers sprouted throughout his skin and he looked out his open door, into the kitchen and living room. There his mother, wild-eyed and manic struggled, with a taller man who Alathis couldn't quite see.

 

'Please,' said a voice resonating with confidence and patience. 'Please, let me in, Dalti. I need to see Alathis.'

 

'Begone,' she screamed.

 

Alathis' eyes welled and blurred with tears. He picked up his truck near his knees and clutched it to his bony chest. He wanted his mum to stop screaming; he wanted the man to go away.

 

The man managed to push past his mother to see Alathis, and his eyes widened, then he turned and stormed out.

 

Alathis couldn't hold back the tears, and his mother came to him and embraced him.

 

'It's okay,' she said. 'The devil, he's gone now, everything's okay. Everything's okay.'

 

 

A few hours later Alathis was still in his room, playing with his Fun Blocks when he heard the kitchen door explode open and shouts blast through the house. He looked to see a man in a Rule Enforcer uniform storm into the kitchen, his face contorting, crinkling. Another, a dwarf followed him.

 

The human Enforcer was gigantic as he stormed into his room and Alathis screamed as the Rule Enforcer grabbed him. Alathis was so skinny that only one of the Rule Enforcer's hands would've encased Alathis' torso. For a few seconds, the room whirled as the Rule Enforcer lifted him and slung him over his shoulder. Alathis'