"What is he saying?"
"I can see it now..."
"My lady, is he awake?"
"Not in any reasonable sense of the word. He's speaking. And seems to be speaking in his sleep..."
"He was almost comatose for almost two years now, my lady. I'm sure you just..."
"I can see it now..."
"Good God..."
"What did he say?"
"He says he can see it now..."
"Be quiet, the lot of you. You can't see it so listen to the man who can!"
"Did my husband, who was in a comatose state just hours, ago, just tell us all to be quiet?"
"I don't think he is that deep anymore, Lady Ilythia. He's.... sleeping very lightly. And dreaming... hear how his heart pound. Watch the way his eyes move beneath his lids. They've stopped. He's waking up now..."
His clear blue eyes opened quickly, blinking rapidly in the early dawn. The sun hadn't begun it's rising from the east, but from the silence in the woods, and the chill, which seemed more than usual in the darkest part of the night, he could tell it was only an hour or so from sunrise. He wrapped his blanket around himself tighter and growled a dark curse as he poked the embers of the fire with a stick, giving rise to a spurt of sparks and a quick blue flame.
You were talking in your sleep again, Alec.
Alec's eyes narrowed as they flickered down to his weapons. The sword was nothing of particular note, a common footsoldier's shortsword, accompanied by a dagger of similar quality. What drew attention were the war ax and shield, both cast in what looked like black steel flecked with red and silver crystals, making it look like granite. They were steel, however, and two of a kind. And inhabited by the spirit of an ancient warrior who was quite mouthy considering that he had died tens of thousands of years ago.
"I'm fine, Rythar. And you should stop listening in on my dreams," Alec growled to no one in particular.
Well, I do have better things to do. Oh no wait, I don't actually.
"Quiet, before I put the ax in the embers."
We both know how much good that it will do. Which is to say, none at all.
Rythar, the mouthy elf. Elves, of course, had been extinct for so long they were barely legends. hardly memories. Not to this lonesome warrior they weren't. He rued the day that he woke up to find the man sitting beside him in that spectral fire so many years ago," It does loads of good. To me. Don't much care how much good it does to you. Lets off steam and whatnot."
A long pause in the one-sided conversation before Alec scowled at the fire again, tossing the last of the wood that he had gathered the night previous," It's always the same dream though. I know it's a memory, because my wife explained it to me a hundred times while she was alive. But I can't bloody remember it."
Well, technically, you can. That's why you dream of it. But I would put aside thoughts of the dream for now, my friend. We appear to have company.
Alec raised his nose to the air and took a sniff, wincing before he unwrapped himself from the blanket," So we do, dear weapon friend. So we do," He turned around to face the bushes behind him, his face changed from the soft thoughtful face that only he saw, and turned into the hard, unreadable mask that everyone else did," Come out. It's cold tonight, and the warmth of the fire doesn't reach to those bushes."
There was a moment of silence as Alec glared hard at the bushes before two men stepped out. Their skin was dark, and they wore virtually nothing but loincloths. They had weapons, though. One carried a spear, shield and a large hunting dagger, the other a pair of sabers on his back and a hatchet at his waist. Moth men circled Alec from opposite directions, sitting across the fire from the tall, blonde warrior. No words were extended as both parties sized each other up for the first few moments.
Alec sniffed again," Tell the other five that they can join us too."
"How did you know that there were more?" The sword-bearer's accent was rough, but his grasp of Alec language was firm. His body was rippling with muscle, and with the graceful way that he carried himself, Alec guessed that he was one of the Mahians' famed Blade dancers. Peerless with a blade, only their finest warriors were trained in the ancient sword techniques of old, and one of the few of the Mahians to be allowed to carry a sword at all. The rest were equipped with spears and axes.
"For a people that pride themselves in hunting for a living, you bunch do let off a peculiar... odor."
"Only one that man would catch, and not many of those," The bladedancer scowled at Alec," Animals feel our scent and see us as one of their own. As we are."
"Kudos to you on that," Alec smirked and adjusted his seat," I take it the bowmen will be remaining out of sight then?"
The blade dancer cracked a smile, showing a line of shining white, sharpened teeth," Our bows do not give off any scent, stranger."
Alec chuckled," Lucky guess. Only one reason why most of a scouting party would remain out of sight and out of reach while their superior talks to a lonely man in the snow."
Another silence, longer this time, as the two parties reassessed their opposites now armed with what knowledge had been given them. And this time, the blade dancer broke it," Among most peoples of this world, talking to nothing is seen as a sign of madness and a weak mind. We know better, for those who speak at nothing really speak to the spirits of the dead that none of us see."
"You don't know how right you are," Was Alec's growled response with a woeful look at his weapons. The man's gaze followed Alec.
"Another interesting thing about my people is that a man with great and beautiful weapons must earn those weapons. Otherwise he is a fraud, and the next man to fight him will relieve him of his unwon treasure."
"I think I know enough about your people, thank you very much," Alec said with a raised eyebrow.
"Did you earn your weapons? Or must I make you earn them now?"
"You musn't do anything while I can feel arrows aimed at my back, boy," Alec growled, pushing himself to his feet. A gentle rustle of the bushes showed five women emerging from the underbrush, longbows pulled back with long arrows, the tips black with poison.
The spearwielder stood as well, his eyes bristling with fury," You lack respect for your superior's northman. Do you know who this is?"
"No and I don't much care to," Alec scowled at the younger boy," And only a fool would think him, or any other man to be my equal, much less superior. I advise you and your ragged merry bunch to get the fuck away from me as quick as your bowlegged legs can."
The man screamed and pulling his spear to bear, leaped over the fire, stabbing it at Alec. Oddly enough, he wasn't there anymore. However, when the sound of a shield cracking over the spearman's skull sounded, it became apparent that he had armed himself quicker than any man should, or could. The dead spearman dropped headfirst into the embers, where his long black hair quickly caught fire. The sounds of bows being loosed joined the sound of sizzling flesh, followed by the sound of the arrows hammering hard into Alec's black shield as he closed on the archer women. In his right hand, a short-sword had inexplicably appeared. He moved like something that the Mahians had never seen before. His technique lacked entirely in the beautiful dance-like skill of the Blade dancers, but made up for it in sheer efficiency. He hacked at the first woman quickly as her hand reached for her second arrow, her neck spouting red into the white, freshly fallen snow. The second was brought down as the sword planted itself deep in her stomach and a third dropped as her neck was cracked from a chop given by the black shield. Pulling his sword from the dead woman, he spun as a pair of arrows swished past him, his blade flickering out to catch the fourth woman across the neck, all but severing her head. The last closed the distance between her and Alec, aiming a punch at his jaw.
It landed, though it barely slowed the man down as he shoulder-charged her with his shield and, as she stumbled to her back on the ground, Alec's sword was planted deep into her chest. He then pushed himself to his feet. He hadn't even broken a sweat. The blade dancer, meanwhile, had drawn his swords and had been watching Alec's technique with interest.
"You know, stranger, wizards once came to my village to recruit me to their college in the isles to the south. Deep south, because I had a skill. I cannot manipulate magic, but I can read man that have magic in them. Those who don't as well, considerably easier. You know what I read in you, stranger?"
Alec didn't answer.
"In you, I read absolutely nothing. That's impossible."
Alec still didn't answer, his pale blue eyes murderous as he walked over to his ax and picked it up, twirling it in his hand a few times. It wasn't cold, despite the fact that it had lain out in the icy air for hours before. Nor did it reflect the little light that there was.
"Your sword technique is very good, my friend, but very basic. You would have benefited from a proper teacher. You are too stiff in the hips, and your wrist is too solid. You need to flow more... like so!" And he attacked, his blades flickering dangerously and quick, aiming for Alec's chest and neck with a blistering force.
Alec's sidestep was almost contemptuous, blocking the single attack that followed his evasion with his shield and with a quick, expert chop, the Blade Dancer's head dropped to the snow a few seconds before his knees," Yeah yeah yeah," Alec growled, wiping the blood from the axblade," I have an elf that tells me that all day."