Closed The Scimitar is Stronger

[Cadicus]

32nd Winter 512AV Cadicus had leant on the bar, and smiled his devastating grin. What woman (or man, for that matter) could resist the copper shimmering smile, and the fragile-looking glass horns which swept back from his temples like a crown? Serra Danalle had offered the information he so requested willingly, seemingly shrugging off his flirtatiousness, but Cadicus knew better. Even forgotten by Syna, the Ethaefal still held an undeniable allure. It was on Serra's advice that with his scimitar at his side, and his thick cloak wrapped around him, that he had swaggered out of the World's Grotto Inn and made for the foothills that surrounded Zeltiva. Smiling devilishly (or so he liked to think) at any vaguely attractive member of any damn race who passed him, Cadicus made his steady way out of the streets. It was easy enough, she said. Walk up past the University and out, until the land changed and the hills sloped upwards. Until you saw the small temple which watched the bay devotedly. Until you stood with the devastated Denvalis on your right, and the path on which you entered on your left. With Sodalis by his side, Cadicus stood overlooking the bay of Zeltiva without being moved in the least. This view, a testament to human perseverance and skill, meant nothing to the Ethaefal, who had fallen from grace, and then tore up the olive branch offered. Sodalis yapped happily, chasing the wind, running through the long grass. Cadicus let him go: he could call the dog back with a whistle if he so chose. Behind the Ethaefal who never changed stood the Storm Shrine: what Serra had told him was a temple to Zulrav, the lord of the winds, the governor of the storms. He scoffed, drawing his scimitar, shaking his head. He looked at the blade and smiled. This is where strength lay. Not in faith, but in steel, and in Cadicus' own arm.

[Lucas Arias]

Kelwyn would always be Lucas‘ number one, but the redhead had a soft spot for Zulrav as well. He loved storms. When he had still been a squire in Syliras, and there had been a thunderstorm, he had often snuck out of the castle. While the other squires had hidden under their blankets in their beds and been scared, he had danced around and laughed. Thunderstorms excited him. The louder, the better!

When he had found out that Zeltiva actually had a shrine to the God of Storms, he had quickly closed his fortune telling tent for the day, packed his things and decided to take a look. He wondered what the shrine and those that served Zulrav were like. Was the shrine always surrounded by a storm? Was it painted with clouds and lightning bolts? Did the priests run outside and dance during a storm as well? Did storms make them happy?

Unfortunately the shrine was a bit of a disappointment. It had a rod sticking out of the roof, but otherwise it didn’t look particularly exciting. There were statues of Zulrav, pictures and offerings, just like in a normal shrine. And there was only a single priest who wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary and didn’t look like a particularly happy person.

With a sigh Lucas turned around and proceeded to inspect the area surrounding the shrine. Maybe he would find something interesting there. Before too long he was standing there, looking at the bay as well. As he gazed at the water, he couldn’t help but remember Kenabelle Wright, his childhood hero. When he had been a little boy, he had dreamed of sailing around Mizahar, just like her.

They all said that she was dead, but he was convinced that she was still alive, somewhere out there.

Maybe he would try and find her.

With that thought in mind he pulled his gaze away from the bay – and abruptly froze as he noticed that strange, horned person standing there, a dog by his side. His surprise didn’t last very long though. A few seconds passed, and then he decided to just walk over and see what this was all about.

„I had no idea that Ethaefal prayed to Zulrav“, he remarked and grinned. He was happy that he had found at least something interesting here. „I always thought your kind were in love with the sun and the moon.“ His gaze fell on the Ethaefal’s scimitar. „Are you any good with it?“

[Cadicus]

Swinging the blade through the air, Cadicus nodded in appreciation, feeling the steel cut through the air like a butter knife. The wind whistled louder and louder as Cadicus spun the arcs faster and faster, round and round his tall frame. Laughter danced on the wind. Cadicus took joy in knowing that the secrets to death were gripped tight in his hand. Holding the scimitar out in front of him, he moved his left leg slightly behind his right, bending his knees, ready to slash forward at some imaginary foe with one fell swoop. A devilish grin resided upon his face. He was matched against the Winds today. He could almost pretend he was fighting Zulrav himself. Lunging forward, the Ethaefal slashed at the air, bringing the scimitar down from where he was holding it at shoulder height through to his imaginary opponent's navel, in a diagonal twist. Imagining the foe leaping to the side and dancing round Cadicus like a slippery eel, he spun on his heel, denting the green grass beneath his feet, about to slash again at the air when he was brought to a sudden stop. Striding towards him, a short, skinny red-headed boy wore a large grin. He was lanky, seemed to hold very little strength within his body, and seemed far too happy for Cadicus' liking. He scowled, relaxing his shoulders, standing upright again at his full height. Looking down on the boy who offered such flippant words. "The Ethaefal don't," he said, his voice short and snappy, disgruntled at having been caught in the middle of such an embarrassingly childish display. "Did it look like I was praying devoutly just then, boy?" But for the scimitar, Cadicus might have crossed his arms and fixed the interruptor with a deprecating glare. "There are some in love with the sun or the moon, but trust me, they're not my kind." He rolled his eyes. In love with Syna? He sent a brief glance upwards to the sun goddess. He was only in love with one thing and he didn't know where he stood with her. But it certainly wasn't the sun goddess. "'Course I'm good with it." He really wasn't, though. Cadicus had always spent too much time birthing foals and healing dog's broken legs to be practicing with the blade. Since he had left Endrykas, though, the scimitar had stayed slung at his side. He found that while travelling, it was best to seem intimidating, for one's own safety. "Better than you would be, I wager."

[Lucas Arias]

„I’ve never seen anybody pray to the sun and the moon before“, Lucas told Cadicus. „So I don’t know what praying to them looks like. Maybe it requires the use of a weapon. I mean, my own gods occasionally require me to do strange things. For all I know you are an extremely devout man.“ He shrugged his shoulders and continued to study the horned man. He did move rather well, but he could he handle himself against a real opponent rather than an imaginary one?

„Who are you in love with then?“ he wanted to know. „Yahal? Kelwyn? Rhysol? Who does somebody who doesn’t want to have anything to do with the sun and moon lovers pray to?“ He looked at the sun as well. He didn’t know much about Syna, but he liked the sunlight. It was warm, so Syna probably wasn’t such a bad goddess to worship.

„No, I don’t think so“, he replied as Cadicus insisted that he was better than him. „I learned to fight from the Knights of Syliras. I survived the Aperture in Nyka and killed countless unnatural creatures when the city was attacked during the great djed storm.“

„Can you claim that?“ He drew his sword, a gift from his father, the only useful thing he had ever gotten from the man. „Do you want to find out who is really the better fighter?“

[Cadicus]

Cadicus snorted, looking at the temple of Zulrav nearby, the pathetic excuse for a religious monument. Cadicus had wandered through towns all over Mizahar like a ghost, and had seen all types of temples to all different gods. This Storm Shrine seemed to him to be little more than a glorified windmill: not something worthy of the gods at all, if the gods could be said to deserve anything from mortals. "I'm really not." Cadicus shrugged, his eyes narrowed at the lanky ginger boy who was so talkative and presumptive with a complete stranger. A complete stranger with a weapon, no less. It did not matter that Cadicus could barely slice an unmoving target, let alone a human being with a sword by his side, but the Ethaefal had enough pride and arrogance to think he looked intimidating nonetheless: and perhaps he did. With his intimidating height and his bone white horns the colour of skeletons, Cadicus cut an otherworldly figure ... one that seemed to have absolutely no effect on this newcomer. "Who says I'm in love with any of them?" Cypress' blue eyes flashed into his mind, but he shoved thoughts of her away. Still the Drykas woman was cold, colder than Syna herself, and untrusting. "Why should you presume I owe any of the gods my allegiance? They, like the Ethaefal, can fall like that." Quick as a snake, Cadicus slashed the scimitar through the air again, grinning like a madman, slicing an imaginary foe from left shoulder to right hip, spilling their insides to the ground. "You are, of course, entitled to your own beliefs. However foolish they might be." With a bone-chilling shiver, the boy drew his longsword from his scabbard, the lengthy blade gleaming in Syna's light. Cadicus' expression remained exactly the same, but inside, his stomach tightened. "Ah..." It was too late for escapes. He had built himself up and now he could not back down. Sodalis by his side began to growl at the sight of the drawn steel, his hackles raising. "Be still, Dalis!" he murmured, his spare hand descending on his dog's muzzle. In a moment or two the dog settled. "Well then," Cadicus said, unable to ignore the boy any longer. "We can fight. But I'll go easy on you. You'll need it." It went unsaid that "easy" was really the best Cadicus could do at all...

[Lucas Arias]

„Without the gods the world would be pretty boring, don’t you think?“ Lucas asked. „We should be grateful because they make it interesting. And what if they fall? There’ll be new gods instead.“ He watched as Cadicus played with his scimitar and smiled a little. He had often killed imaginary foes as well. „Not following any god when they shape the world isn’t a good idea.“

„And my beliefs aren’t foolish. I pray to Kelwyn, the best gods ever. They even marked me.“ He proceeded to pull his sleeve back a little so that Cadicus could see the mark in question. Lucas was incredibly proud of it. In his opinion Kelwyn were much better than whatever gods the knights in Syliras prayed to.

„Nice dog“, he remarked as Sodalis growled. He wasn’t afraid of dogs. Lucas loved all animals – apart from horses. As Cadicus told him that he would go easy on him, the boy laughed. „No, I’ll go easy on you“, he informed him and proceeded to slowly come closer.

And then he abruptly closed the distance between him and the Ethaefal and raised his sword. For a moment it seemed as if he was about to make a slash, from Cadicus‘ right shounder, diagonally downwards, but then he changed his sword’s direction in mid-attack.

The slash turned into a simple thrust towards Cadicus‘ stomach.

[Cadicus]

The condescending smile the boy gave Cadicus grated on his nerves, and with his scimitar still gripped tightly in hand, he turned and snapped at the boy. “And giving faith to ONE god in particular is equally a terrible idea! At least I treat the gods with equal apathy. Others might not be so forgiving of your favouritism, boy.” Breathing heavily, he looked away. He was being schooled by a kid he could have sired himself! Did he have no respect for those who had fallen from the fissure? He rolled his eyes, turning away from the boy to look out over the harbourside, the water reflecting the light, Syna and Laviku dancing an eternal dance. It would have been a beautiful sight, if you were into that sort of thing. ”Just saying they are the best gods ever doesn’t make them so. I could say that I was female and working as a soothsayer, but it would not make it true in anyway.” He threw a sidewards glance to the boy. He had seemed so calm and composed through this conversation, while Cadicus had been having to throw up walls left right and centre. ”Of course he is a nice dog,” Cadicus snapped, turning back to the kid and holding his scimitar aloft, his knees slightly bent into a stance from where he could spring out to either defend or attack. It was the most basic stance... and also one of the very few he knew. ”I wouldn’t carry him around with me everywhere if he wasn’t.” Sodalis watched the exchange with careful precision. He would not intervene until his master either called for him, or the red-haired youth should hurt him. Dogs, for all their faults, were loyal: something Cadicus needed desperately. Someone to love him unconditionally. His lips pressed together into a thin line, Cadicus held his ground when Lucas approached slowly, almost as if he were babysitting a child and they were playing with wooden swords. Snarling when he moved suddenly, Cadicus took a startled few steps back, eager to keep distance between them - a distance that a longsword could not breach. With Cadicus trying to remember how to move and slash and the same time, the boy began to bring his sword down in a diagonal arc, and Cadicus nearly fell for the trap: but the thrust to his stomach was too simple for even he, the unskilled Ethaefal. He caught the blade in the curve of his scimitar, using his strength to push back the sword up and over, away from Cadicus. A waste of strength if he were to continue, but for now, it kept his stomach from being sliced open. If he had been of more skill, he would have launched an attack immediately, eager to gain the upperhand. But for all his bravado, he had not the proper skill to do so. Instead, he began to circle the man, slowly, his knees bent, his scimitar clasped in both wrists, ready to defend as much as he needed. ”So, do you have a name, precocious little boy?”