The Zero Hour | #Wattys2016

Chapter 20 - Calm Before the Storm (Part 1)

Bastian paced the ground impatiently with his arms folded across his chest. The sun was about to set and Amadeus still hadn't returned. The other commoners were growing restless. They only have themselves to blame for being too weak, he thought to himself. While the Avianath were not as ruthless in the pursuit of strength when compared to those brutes who called themselves the Rokuth, they still believed in making the most out of talent. When he was only a young boy, he was handpicked for his talent in combat and trained in the ways of the spear. It was an honor to serve in the Avianath army as a rider, and few were given the chance.

His twin, Bianca looked at him irritably, as if to know what he was thinking. Since birth, they had the uncanny ability to communicate with each other without speaking. It gave them a huge advantage in fights, and it came as no surprise when they were drafted together in the same riding unit. She stretched out her arms and twirled her head in a full circle. She was certainly a strong fighter as well; strong enough to earn his respect, but far from being his equal. With spear and shield, he had no rival among the tribe. Well, maybe except for Chief Penn. No one was foolish enough to go against him and his legendary spear, the Blackbird.

The athletic and agile Izenth who called himself Rei spoke animatedly with his daughter. From the way he carried himself, Bastian could tell that he was an experienced and deadly fighter. He had been so happy when she returned safely from the wilderness, he hadn't bother to ask why she was had returned alone. He didn't seem happy now though. Both of them were out of earshot but Bastian could tell from their body language that they were immersed in a full-fledged argument.

Bastian smirked and rolled his eyes. Family squabbles. It was just another distraction, another form of weakness. He promised himself he wouldn't allow himself to fall in love and settle down with a family. He never had a shortage of admirers from among the women in his tribe, but he never paid them any mind. He was too busy training; just a little more, just a little stronger. He wouldn't be satisfied until he was the strongest. The row of icicles that hung from the belt slung across Rei's shoulder glinted in the setting sun, and two daggers hung at the sides of his hips. Precision weapons, Bastian mused. Rei must rely on his skill and speed in battle instead of his strength. I'd have loved to test my skills against him in battle.

The Rokuth whom Amadeus called 'One' sat quietly next to Jarbus. His eyes remained pointed towards the edge of the commoner camp. Those eyes confused Bastian; they were filled with kindness, and looked nothing like the eyes of a warrior. The palladium on his back however, betrayed the weak façade that One portrayed. There was no doubt about it, One could single-handedly defeat several Avianath riders – no, riding units if he decided to. He was truly dangerous, like a volcano waiting to erupt. Yet... there he was. Sitting quietly, waiting as a dog did for his master. How Amadeus subdued One into acknowledging him as his master remained a mystery to Bastian. Curiosity gnawed at the corner of Bastian's mind; he would need to convince Amadeus to share the story with him someday.

While the women and children of the commoner camp remained hidden in their tents, the men were starting to gather around Jarbus. They must have realized that they were going to die anyway, might as well go down with a fight. It wouldn't do them any good though; they were too weak to fight the Nobles. Just look at what they are holding, pitchforks, hammers and assortments of different industrial tools. This had to be a joke, this rabble wanted to go up against the powerful Nobles?

Bastian laughed derisively at the sight of the desperate commoners huddling around Jarbus, waiting for a plan. Jarbus had the choice to be the general of the mighty Avianath riders and instead chose to lead a bunch of weaklings. He didn't mean to be cruel, but it was a hard truth of life. The weak dwindled and the strong survive.