Chapter 66: Chapter Sixty-Six

I have to admit that the extraordinary human insults that Toshiro procure are funnier than they should be, and knowing that Braegen does not understand them seems to rile him up even more. Instead of grabbing some training swords from the rack, the two gods take their blades from their sheaths and draw them as they take their places in the arena for a fair match. I’m surprised that Braegen, the HIigh Fae that he is, is willing to play by the rules. Considering that he is the one who helped create the arena for the palace, I assume he must take some sort of pride in it to follow the guidelines so dutifully.

As the two of them take their stances across from one another, I keep my gaze trained on Toshiro. As formidable of an opponent as Lord Braegen is, Toshiro remains calm and blase about the impending duel. The sunlight that pours through the large windows against the far wall bathes the court in a warm golden light, which catches the blade of Toshiro’s weapon. The katana is longer than my legs with an intricately patterned steel, making me wonder how it remains so pristine. Surely blood is difficult to clean out of each crevasse, yet it shines a magnificent purple sheen that only blazes through at a certain angle of hitting the light.

Braegen cracks his neck loudly as he grins wickedly at Toshiro, obviously confident in his abilities with a sword. Unlike Toshiro’s, the Lord’s weapon is a double-handed broad sword that would likely be too heavy for me to even lift from the ground, yet the muscles in his biceps do not appear to be strained by the weight. “I have yet to lose a duel on my court,” He booms proudly, swinging his sword experimentally. “I hope you are prepared to face defeat and the shame that follows.”

Toshiro’s expression is impassive as he regards the Lord, seeming to fight off another yawn. This unscheduled duel is cutting into his daily nap time, so I anticipate that it will be a short one. I remain standing on the sidelines with Arcane and Mirin tense and watchful, all of our eyes trained on the field. The Fox cuts a glance in our direction, his eyes finding mine as they glint in the afternoon sun. Though his mouth remains stagnant, I can hear his voice echo through my mind as the ghost of a smile graces his lips. ‘Watch me.’

While he is momentarily distracted, Braegen takes the opportunity to charge forward with his broadsword at the ready. He is still shockingly fast for his sheer size, but Toshiro has no issue warding him off with the resounding clash of steel against steel. I blink in awe, wondering if I witnessed what I think I did. Toshiro’s blade hasn’t even moved, yet Braegen was forced back several paces while the Fox remains where he was.

Seemingly frustrated by the nimble block, Braegen grunts and moves to strike again, faster now that the distance gap is closed. I remain focused on Toshiro’s glimmering katana, squinting to see if my eyes are deceiving me. It almost looks like the shimmering aura has leeched its way into his weapon, making it an extension of his reach. Before Lord Braegen has a chance to arc his sword down onto Toshiro, the royal energy that surrounds him is suddenly set ablaze, surrounding him like a fire. What’s more, is the purple aura has extended over his ears at his back to form tails behind him, of which I count nine.

Mirin and I gawk in awe of the scene, watching in amazement as Toshiro’s blade glances off of Braegen’s faster than my eyes can perceive and forces the larger male backward again, simultaneously slashing the katana across the Lord’s chest in a fluid motion, slicing the fabric of his shirt in one clean swipe. No blood spills from the strike, however, and as Braegen corrects himself I see that the skin remains untouched. The Lord pinches his brow in confusion and looks down at his tunic, seeing that it is now split across the chest to reveal his rock-solid torse beneath. He barks a laugh that makes me flinch at the likeness to a foghorn, turning back to Toshiro as he tears the rest of his shirt away from his body as if it were easy. “Quite spritely,” He compliments as he discards the scraps of his shirt on the floor outside of the arena.

Toshiro waits patiently for the Lord to resume a fighting stance, apparently uninterested in making any cheap shots on his opponent. The katana remains limber in his grasp as if it can move in any direction within the blink of an eye, and his body remains lax as he circles back to his beginning post on the field. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Toshiro reminds him, expression remaining cool. Braegen laughs again as he darts forward, making to slice at Toshiro’s legs. The Fox jumps into the air over his opponent’s sword and lands nimbly on top of the blade, pinning it to the floor beneath his feet. Toshiro leans into Braegen’s face, the bridge of his nose pinched in a silent growl. “Who poisoned the wine?”

Lord Braegen wastes no time filing his broadsword around with Toshiro still perched on it, lifting him from the ground with ease. I’m amazed that the blade remains strong beneath the weight as Toshiro leaps from the weapon and lands on his feet, not making a sound against the marble. “I see,” Braegen sounds amused as he charges the Fox again, his sturdy blade rose above his head. “So, it was true. I assumed that Malion was exaggerating when he said you drank it and lived. I thought there may not have been enough.”

Something in the Lord’s words triggers Toshiro, his uninterested expression turning cold and dark. The energy around him swirls and expands even farther, his tails swishing in anger. The blades clash together a few times as the two males exchange blows, bringing claps of thunder with them. “So, you admit it, then,” Toshiro growls, voice rippling through the hall. If he had hackles, I know that they would be risen as the two circles each other, both of them baring their teeth. “You think that something like that would slip past me unpunished?” Toshiro challenges, brow furrowed.

I have never seen him look so fierce, and I suddenly find myself reminded of why fear struck me the first night we met. His expression looks familiar, far too similar to the one he wore with blood on his face, dripping from his hands and his steel. This time, though, his gaze is collected, not lost to his rage. My heart gallops in my ears as I watch the duel, feeling as though I haven’t breathed the entire time. Toshiro’s skills rival Ascian’s, who I have yet to see lose a challenge. It’s simply magnificent to behold, as he makes deadly movements seem like a dance. For some reason, his footwork reminds me of flowers dancing in the breeze of mid-spring, though if he were such a plant, I suspect that he would be of the Nightshade variety.

“It was a challenge,” Braegen says, muscles rippling beneath his scarred skin as he arches his sword down onto Toshiro’s head. The pass is easily blocked with the wave of his katana, knocking the Lord backward enough to allow him room to swing his weapon, landing a blow to the Lord’s upper arm. “An invitation to kill me, if you can.”

Toshiro snarls and stalks the area in front of his opponent, eyes glinting murderously. “Consider your invitation accepted,” There is another flurry of clashes as the two spar, lasting only a moment before Braegen is forced back again, emerging with a slash against his cheek that drips crimson down his neck. “I suppose you are responsible for the Powrie, as well.”

The Lord wipes the blood from his cheek before blocking another strike from the katana, which seems to have grown faster with the taste of blood. I get the feeling that it hasn’t tasted that of a High Fae in a while, with each glance of the light growing brighter against the blade. “Perhaps I know of it,” He grins, resolve remaining uncracked.

Toshiro takes a step back out of striking range, regarding Braegen with a dangerous look. I get the inclination that any who witness that expression first hand do not live to tell the tale. The feeling of innate fear seeps through me again, creeping from my spine into my chest and burrowing inside. I don’t realize that I’m crushing Mirin’s sleeve in my fist until he places a reassuring hand on my arm, though neither of us can tear our eyes away.

“That exceeds your usefulness to me, then,” Toshiro’s voice is collected and level as the Lord lunges for him with the intent to maim, a snarl erupting from his throat. The Fox slices his katana through the air in front of him with graceful adeptness, taking a single step to the side to allow the body to fall beside him. “I will make an example out of you.”

Not yet dead, Braegen pulls himself to his knees, failing to realize that both of his hands are now gone, still gripping his fallen sword. He raises them anyway with a fierce cry, which lasts only a moment before the flash of purple-edged steel cuts cleanly through the thick muscle of his neck, freeing the head from the body. It rolls to Toshiro’s feet, which he raises to step on in a final act of vengeance. The High Fae who has survived countless battles until now, meets his end at the hands of a god. Perhaps, that will be the fate of them all.

End Part One