Dragon Kin 2

01

Vlad

A light layer of mist, with long graceful tendrils, hovered over the chill morning river. I could see it from the wall of the Grand Arena. This was the trial ground, where challenges were met and decided with skill, strength and blood. Alexis of the Iron clan challenged the king, Victor. The time was set for ten in the morning. From what I heard, Alexis wasn't calm enough to negotiate particulars, or care about them. But it would be a long shot to bet on him not arriving on time.

We decided, the King and I, that I would leave the city for my mission in two days. The decision was made based on matters of logistics. I had people I needed to inform, so they didn't worry — or worry the King about my absence. I had debts to clear up, in case of an extended leave. The mission was meant to be a scouting journey, more or less. I didn't expect to be in any serious danger. If I saw an opportunity to destroy the means by which the Hunters made their crossings into our lands, I would take it. Short of that goal I would return, report and consult with others.

The delay also made room for this challenge.

Without vanity, I judged myself the strongest fighter in the King's Guard. The King's wounds, from his earlier battle with Uncle Max, left Victor in rough shape and some serious pain. Fighting against a monster like Alexis, carried the threat of further injury.

Luckily, the law forbade the King or Queen from answering challenges themselves. It was a bit sketchy on the matter of Mistress, though. So his new bonds-mate, could technically answer the challenge for him. But unless she said something soon, it fell to one of the Guards, which meant that it fell to me. That was why I was rolling my shoulders at three minutes to 10am, and getting ready to face Alexis myself on the challenge ground. Until...

"You look good, Vlad, but I got this," Ocean said beside me. "Oh, I'm sure you could take that donkey's ass, but, I am the King's protector, thus it falls to me," he said, in a calm casual manner, then adding with a much rougher tone, "and I don't want anyone in this city to forget it."

The horn sounded and Ocean walked past me into the arena. I watched him go. Not sure what else I could do. He wasn't to leave until tonight, according to the King. Alexis, of the Iron dragon clan, was one of the strongest and fiercest fighters in the city, well, in the country for that matter.

In the class of the warrior, it was rare that there were those more fierce out in the country, away from one of the three main cities, but it does happen. Retired warriors who surpassed the ideal of the Master, sometimes sought out quieter areas to spend their years. This was as good for us as it was for them, as they became first defenders during incursions and kept the count of our dead low. Those were beings not to be messed with. Truly terrifying.

Alexis wasn't of that breed, but he could become one in the future.

If he survived this day.

Would Ocean simply kill him outright? I found it hard to say. Alexis had strong bonds with his brothers. Philip was the elder brother and leader of his clan. With him gone, I felt certain Alexis faced confusion and heartache.

Alexis' pain was true — a kind of bone pain. A pain, for which I had empathy – having lost a brother myself. The others in the room – the witnesses – either lied to Alexis or said nothing. Saying nothing was legal, but in my mind far more cruel. So I had sympathy for the man. I'd kill him if that were the only way, but I would offer mercy if it wouldn't cost me my life.

What is Ocean going to do?

Ocean knew the King's mind on questions like these, and from what I've witnessed, Ocean's strength surpassed Alexis. Far stronger. Perhaps stronger than the whole Royal Guard.

There was, undoubtedly, something that would level the field when facing Ocean, but I had no idea what that could be.

With the Sidhe, cold iron burned as fire on their flesh. That is iron which has not been forged for war. Not forged for the heat of battle, but for the use of life. The cold iron of the plow, the sickle, the ax, the hatchet. The shovel. Tools that produced and sustained life. These were dangerous to the Sidhe if made of iron. The Sidhe were nearly impervious to anything else, like lead, or steel.

What might be dangerous to Ocean, I didn't know, but it felt as though there had to be something. I had no idea what it might be or how to find out, but it felt that there should be something.

Alexis came out of the gate on the other side of the arena in full armor and his wings out, curled and ready. In his hand was a war falchion, a large blade with a single edge. The blade is nearly an inch thick at the top, and the edge of these massive things were honed to a shaving sharpness — if you didn't mind losing an ear while shaving your cheek.

They looked primitive.

The hilt had to be thick and long in order to be gripped solidly by the claws of the dragons. The blade grew wider toward the tip rather than the hilt, and it's main attack was the chop — the warrior swung the weapon so that the heavy end connected against the enemy, and chopped through armor, bone and anything else in the way. It cleaved.

Alexis roared, spreading his wings and arms out, lifting the falchion into the air. Much of the crowd cheered — more for the show than for his cause, I was sure. Then he lowered his gaze and saw Ocean walking toward him.

Ocean was dressed in a cotton shirt and long cotton pants. Other than his boots, which I assumed were leather, but not a type I was familiar with, he wore nothing else, but his thin smile. It was enough to stop Alexis.

Everyone in the city had heard of the King's protector. He was the prince's protector for seventeen years. He fought the duels, protected the prince during raids, and from assaults of every kind. He's never lost a battle or a duel. And the prince was never successfully injured by any threat. In training and competition, he was injured several times, but that was out of Ocean's hands.

Few understood Ocean's origins. It wasn't common knowledge that he was a cambion — part demon — and most who had heard him referred to as 'a demon' believed it to be figurative language. While colorful, however, the descriptions were not figurative. Ocean's birth on the Infernal plane, his subsequent meeting with the king and the contract they agreed on are all recorded in the histories of the realm. Even though many historians wonder why such information is so dutifully recorded when no one bothers to read the volumes.

The onlookers, witnesses and fans grew silent as Ocean walked calmly out into the challenge area. Behind him and to the right sat the king and the Mistress on the royal platform – he looking concerned while she looked curious.

The arena area, a square with rounded corners, measured one-hundred feet per side. With only two men on the grounds it felt far too large. When those with wings battle, however, the size is required.