Retribution of a Fallen God

[SaigoKusunoki]

Aware that Abzadrael was fastly becoming a busy man, Maleus bowed and left without another word. He made his way through the Bastion, two handed blade slung across his back. He kept a grimace on his face, not necessarily of anger, but mainly to keep any Bastion soldiers from approaching him.

When he reached the court yard, he took a deep breath and shouted "Sa'an'ishar!"

He voice resonated hoarsely, cutting through all but the deepest parts of the Bastion. Without delay, the thirty riders that Maleus brought with him exited the guest barracks and kneeled at his side.

"Brothers and sisters, we have endured the atrocities of war spectacularly, but the test is not over. War approaches; do not fail our King."

Silently and in unison, they stood up straight and saluted. Their faces were set, determined. They were ready to die if need be. With a sharp, terse whistle, the jet black steeds that were holed up in the Bastion's stables crashed through the wooden gates, at their master's sides in seconds. The Naorond horsemen mounted before the Stableguards could complain.

"Be ready for my command. Until then, ignore everything."

And so they did. Despite complaints from the stableguards at the destruction of the stables, their words fell on deaf ears as the thirty riders stood unmoving, in formation five men wide and six men deep, eyes towards the gate. Their black cloaks flowed in the breeze, billowing around the flanks of their horses, their spears and two handed blades resting steadily on their shoulders. Gold-gilt crossbows rested in their laps.

Slowly, dust could be seen rising in the distance. The drums of war could be heard, and hoarse cries echoed through the vast valley that the Bastion was built into. Amuse, Maleus cocked his head and chuckled quietly.

"It seems, my kin, that the storm has arrived a little ahead of schedule."

*****

"No...no no no no..." Elvilad began to panic, rushing around his office, searching for his blade. "This is bad...oh Gods..."

His hand closed around his obsidian blade just as Sunev barged in, his door crashing against the wall with the force of her blow. She was armed and fuming. Elvilad noticed her eyes were no longer sewn shut but it did not fully register; his mind was too preoccupied.

"Elvilad the students have been assembled in the courtyard and grouped by class. What are we going to do about our guest?"

Elvilad shrugged. "It's up to him. He can reveal himself now or fight without any knowing who he is. It's his choice."

"For now, you will refer to me as Kauyon, warrior from the north."

Sunev jumped and turned around, not hearing Saigo approach at all. He was dressed as he came, wolf pelts wrapped around his face to hide his appearance. The spear he brought with him gleamed in the light coming through Elvilad's window. It was now Sunev could see the spear was made of a crystalline material, unknown to her at first glance, lavender in color.

"Aye lord. What shall we do with the students?"

Saigo smirked. "Well, this is what they were trained for isnt it? Have them arrange as they see fit; let their intuitions and training guide them. It's what I had to go through."

Saigo grinned widely, remembering his first days of combat. He remembered Emperor Tanata's gladiator pit, fighting and killing good and honest people, to get close to Tanata, to assassinate him. He fondly remembered the night his world was turned upside down, when Zerakath Gaos announced to the gathered Academy that Saigo was of royal blood, and then attempted to murder him. These times, Saigo looked back upon as a Trial by Fire...he would not be where he is today if those events had not taken place.

"Oh boy this is going to be good. I wonder if there are any out there like me...ready and willing to shed some blood."

*****

Phoenix was standing near the reflection pond, waiting for Auvrea. She told him to meet her here, should the situation worsen. And well, it was definitely worse. Dust was rising in the distance, and judging from the sound, it was barbarians on the warpath. The students were thrown into a panic, and though they were grouped together and ordered to not move until told to do so, many were crying and lamenting. Hopelessness was in the air, and even Phoenix's upbeat nature could not change that. He nervously fingered the hilt of his swords, and unable to stop himself, unsheathed them both in one fluid, practiced motion. He stared at his own reflection in the golden blades, and was surprised to see a hint of worry in his eyes.

"Where are you elf...?"