Clash of Blades

[Kaori]

God's Death didn't do much to change the lives of the people of Tsubasa village in the God King's Kingdom. In fact, most of them didn't even know their deity had been slain.

Those who did, however, took advantage.

"There is nothing at all to worry about," Ashikaga said, raising his hands as he stood on an improvised stage made from two carts. He was flanked on one side by a Daeril, a hulking creature that only shallowly resembled a man. Daeril are creatures under the command of the Deathless and their subordinates, Daeril came in many types, but this one had deep violet skin and arms as thick as tree trunks.
"You've always paid your taxes to me, and I've passed them along," Ashikaga continued, speaking to the gathered crowd. "Now I'll keep them myself, and I'll be your lord. It will be good for you to have a leader who is more local."
"What of the God King?" Someone called from the nervous crowd. Things had been the same in Tsubasa Village for centuries. They worked themselves ragged to meet their quota, and were bullied into giving up almost everything they had for the tax collectors.
"The God Emperor has no complaint regarding this arrangement," Ashikaga said
Members of the crowd grumbled, but what could they say? Ashikaga had Daeril and soldiers and, supposedly, the God King's blessing.

A stranger stepped up to the edge of the crowd. The air tasted wet and smelled of minerals; Tsubasa village had been built inside a massive cavern. It had a large grinlike opening a hundred yards across at the front, and thousands of stalactites hung from the ceiling; many were so thick that three men holding hands wouldn't be able to reach around them.
Only stumps remained of many of the gargantuan rock formations, however.
A hundred enormous chains hung down from the cavern roof, their tops bolted to the stone. The town's men climbed those chains each day and strapped themselves to the ceiling, where they mined for the precious minerals the God King demanded.

The location of buildings in the town shifted month by month, moving out from beneath where the miners worked. Even still,most people, men, women, and children wore a helm to protect them from falling bits of rock. "Why now?" one of the braver men called. "Why make us have a local lord, when we've always been able to pick our own leaders before?" "The God King needs not explain his ways to you!" Ashikaga yelled. Instead of a helm, he wore his cap and a rich silk costume of orange and gold. The townspeople stilled. To disobey the God King was death. Most didn't even dare question. The stranger rounded the crowd's people, passing between dangling chains with thick black iron links. Some people gave her looks, trying to peer at her face, which was lost in the cowl of her deep hood. Most dismissed her, assuming she was one of those who had come with Ashikaga. They got out of her way as she walked toward the center of the crowd, where the former tax collector continued explaining his new rules for the town.

The stranger didn't shove or push; the crowd wasn't pressed together so tightly that she needed to. She passed one of the thick chains and hesitated, reaching out and resting her fingers on it. Woven into that chain were ribbons of blue, remnants from the festival that had occurred here a week before. Fallen flower petals, now wilted, still lurked in some cracks and corners. Some of the buildings had even been repainted. All for the Feast of the Sacrifice, a day that came only once every two decades. ". . . So, of course, there can be no questioning my authority,"
Ashikaga said. He pointed toward the front of the crowd, to the man who had asked the question earlier. "Wouldn’t you say?", "Yes... yes, my lord," the man said, shrinking down. "Excellent," Ashikaga said. "Let's see you beaten and be on with our day, then." "But, my lord!" the man said. "I—""Questioning again, I see," Ashikaga said. He waved curtly. "A price must be paid. You will remember to whom you belong." Daeril's began to descend upon the townspeople. There was
variety to the inhuman monsters in skin, shape, and color, some with claws, others with eyes that burned. They shoved among the people, grabbing young women from their families, including the daughter of the outspoken man. "No!" the man said, trying to push the Daeril away. "Please,no!" One Daeril—lean like a wolf, with bony knobs on its skin and a face that appeared burned, hissed, then raised its sword and swung down at the man. A clang rang through the cavern. The stranger stood there, arm extended, sword blocking the Daeril's attack. The townspeople, the Daerils, and Ashikaga all seemed to notice the stranger for the first time. People pulled back from him in a ring.

Then they saw the sword.

That sword. Long and smooth at the sides, with a distinctive set of three holes in its center... it was a symbol every child in the land was taught to recognize. A symbol of power, of authority, and of rulership.

It was the God King's own weapon.

The Daeril was so surprised that it could do nothing but gape as the stranger spun the weapon and impaled the creature through the throat. The stranger moved in an eyeblink, ripping the sword free and dashing forward, cloak trailing behind her. She grabbed one of the chains, moving with practiced familiarity, and swung on it. She swept to a pair of Daeril's who were towing a young woman toward the stage. The two fell easily. These were not the champions of the God Emperor's temple; they were simple brutes. The stranger left them gurgling in their own blood. Ashikaga started yelling, calling for his soldiers. He raved and ranted, pointing. Then he cut off, stumbling back as the stranger grabbed a chain and pushed forward, swinging up and landing with a thump on the wagons. The purple-skinned Daeril struck with a thick-headed mace, but the God Emperor's weapon, the Infinity Blade itself, flashed in the air. The Daeril looked with befuddlement at the stump of his mace. The head thumped to the floor of the cart. The Daeril's corpse followed a moment later.

Ashikaga tried to leap from the cart, but fell to his knees as the vehicle shook. As he rose, he found the blade at his neck. "Call them off," the stranger said in a soft voice. "Daeril's!" Ashikaga cried. "Release the people and stand back! Stand back!" The stranger’s hood had fallen behind, revealing a silvery helm that covered her entire face. She waited as the monsters retreated to the edge of the clustered townsfolk. Then she raised her blade, dripping with blood from the monsters she'd slain, and pointed toward the mouthlike opening into the town. "Out. Never return." Ashikaga obeyed in a scramble, falling to the ground as he climbed from the cart, then dashed at a full run out of the cavern, his Daeril's falling in around him. The cavern fell silent. The stranger finally reached up and peeled her helm from her head, exposing long black hair with ribbons and a youthful face. Kenshin. The Sacrifice. The woman who had been sent to die. "I have returned," she told the townspeople.

Humanity has declined greatly over the past few years, there are those under the rule of the Tyrannical Deathless, immortal beings with excellent swordsmanship and legions of soldiers and monsters called Daeril's at their commands, in a small town under the rule of the God King, a group of brave souls are about to uncover a secret so powerful, it could shake the very foundation of the world they live in.

Rules:
Be a Badass(a requirement in this setting, especially a Badass normal)
Limited Magic only, this isn't D&D, it leans more to Game of Thrones with a bit of feudal Japan thrown in the mix

Template

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Weapon/s:(Weapons are Swords, Shields, polearms, anything in a Medieval fantasy setting, some weapons are imbued with "Magic")
Aegis Form: (Your fighting style, in this setting, it's dependent on what weapon you are using, Aegis Form is a type of Melee combat like Kung-Fu, but with weapons, you can make up your own techniques if you wish)
Ring:(Your source of "Magic", they can only be used once since they have a long Charging time which can take hours, can be any type of "Magic", each ring can only have at maximum 4 abilities)
App:(you may use a pic or simply describe your appearance)
Background:


Name: Uesugi Kenshin
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Weapons:A Katana imbued with Dark "Magic" and the sword of the God King, the dreaded Infinity Blade, it is said to have the capability to kill a Deathless, she prefers using her Katana over the Infinity Blade though
Aegis Form: Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū, an ancient kenjutsu style from the Sengoku Jidai developed to allow a single samurai to defeat numerous foes single-handedly. Practitioners of this style use a combination of near-superhuman speed and agility (known as Shinsoku, or godspeed), battōjutsu and an acquired, observation-based pseudo-clairvoyance in order to avoid the attacks of their opponents by the least possible margin and with the least possible effort in order to place themselves in the perfect position to strike in the very instant the opponent's strike misses and stresses two-step attacks in order to ensure that any and all who oppose it are thoroughly slain.
Ring: A simple ring that allows her to shoot a large wave of fire and heal her.
App:
Background: A female warrior from a small town and known as the "Goddess of the blade", her swordsmanship is unparalleled in her homeland. She is like an unstoppable whirlwind. After slaying the God King, she returned to her home village.

[Zorolo]

Name: Zorlo Amaranthine
Age: 23
Gender: Male

Weapon/s: A single-edged bastard sword.

Aegis Form: Spell Combat: A mix of sword fighting while changing out rings for different magical effects. Heavily modified to make it most effective for his type of combat with a slightly larger-than normal sword.

Ring: As a "Collector of Rings", he possesses currently three rings
Ruby: A silver ring with a ruby set into it. This ring possesses magic of the elemental domains of fire and lightning. Used in mid-long range combat mostly.

Sapphire: A gold ring with a sapphire set into it. This ring controls power over cold and he generally uses it to create a second weapon of super-hardened ice. Close range.

Emerald: A platinum banded ring with an emerald set atop it. This ring contains blasts of wind and pure force that can be unleashed from the palm of the wearer. This ring is best suited for close and mid-ranged combat and has surprised many a foolish foe.

When not in use, the rings are kept on a chain around his neck.

App:

'cept with green hair.

Background: A young man who spent much of his time observing rings and the natural world. After countless observations of the magical powers of rings, Zorlo began to devise a combat style that focused on swapping of rings to wield different magical effects, along with wielding of a sword that could fluidly be moved between one and two-handed sword swings while the rings recharged.

After several years of training (having started at about 14), he acquired his first ring and bought a new sword with money saved up from odd jobs. Since then, he's traveled through lands and learned more. The word of the God-King's supposed passage of power to local lords intrigued the green-haired man and has sent him searching for someone who has answers... who he isn't really sure.

His other known alias is "The Collector of Rings." Having laid claim to two rings by force from their original owners so far, he has advanced his desire to expand his spell-combat training. He hopes to one day be able to extract the magic from the rings into his own body in order to gain their magical essence for his own.

[Kaori]

((Others feel free to join, For now, let's get started))
"She wasn’t supposed to win," Master Seigan hissed. Kenshin could hear them talking in the other room of Seigan's hut. Kenshin sat quietly, holding a small cup of tea in one hand. Fenweed soup, a very healthy soup. A warrior's soup. It tasted like dishwater to her."Well," Master Shanna said, "we can't exactly blame her, can we? For living, I mean?" "She went to fight the God King," Master Hayate said. "We sent her to fight the God King." And Kenshin had gone, just as her father and her grandfather had gone. Dozens had been sent over the centuries, always from the same family. A family sheltered, protected, and hidden by the people of the land. The Sacrifice, it was called. It was how they fought back. The only way. They'd live beneath the oppressive thumb of the God King. They'd pay nearly all they had in tribute, would suffer the brutality of men like Ashikaga—who, up until his power grab, had been only a simple tax collector. But they would make this one act of rebellion. One family, hidden. One warrior each generation, sent to show that the people of this land were not completely dominated. The Sacrifice didn't need to win. He wasn't expected to win. He wasn't supposed to be able to win.

"Hell take me", Kenshin thought, looking down at her bowl. "Even I didn't expect to defeat him". Kenshin had gone in with the dream that maybe, if she were incredibly lucky... She'd get a single cut on the God King, make the tyrant bleed. Instead, she'd slain one of the Deathless. The other room fell silent, then the whispers continued, softly enough that she couldn't hear "I really did it", Kenshin thought. "I'm alive." It was only now beginning to sink in. She looked down, then pointedly set the bowl aside "And that means I never have to drink this trash again!" She stood up, smiling. She had dreamed of what might happen if she actually killed the God King. She hadn't dared hope, but she had allowed herself those dreams. She'd imagined triumph, celebrations. She'd imagined exulting in her victory. Oddly, she didn't feel exultant. Instead, she just felt free. Being the Sacrifice had dominated everything she'd ever done, But that was done with. Finally. Finally she could figure out who she was, the person she could be when she didn't have this terrible duty weighing her down. She hesitated, then fished a small woodbound book out of her pocket. Her mother had given it to her and told her to record her thoughts each night as she traveled to the God King's Castle. Her mother and she were among the few in the town who could read. The Sacrifice had to be literate, Kenshin wasn't certain why, it was merely tradition. She hadn't considered it an arduous requirement; reading and writing had come easily to her. The logbook was empty. Kenshin had never written in it, and felt foolish for ignoring her mother's suggestion. She hadn't been able to force herself to do it. She'd been marching to her death, determined to avenge her fathers who had fallen to the God Emperor's blade. Not by killing the creature, but by fighting him, by proving that, despite what he may think, the world was not completely his. Kenshin's mother had included a charcoal pencil with the book. Kenshin raised it and turned to the first page. There, in bold letters she wrote one sentence: I hate Fenweed Soup.

[Zorolo]

A figured wearing a dark cloak had been spotted wandering across several towns. Unbeknownst to most, he wasn't like others. Attempt after attempt to tame the magic in rings had caused him some slight... peculiarities. Emerald green eyes peered from beneath the hood as he stopped moving. "That girl sure caused a stir. Did it without use of a ring either. Not sure what to make of it... but if she did have the God King's sword, that means that he truly is dead. I'll keep that to myself," the cloaked man stated as he headed further into town.

Silence and awe befell him. Despite hsi attempts to avoid drawing attention, his fine cloak, rattling necklace of rings and sword at his side had drawn the gaze of a few people as he passed by. Beneath his cloak, the man outstretched his fingers and cracked them. "I should have went somewhere where I'm less conspicuous... well, can't change that now. Now then, where did that girl go?" he asked himself as he moved. A few strands of green-hair floated as he kept his hood up. His truly distinct trait.

[Kaori]

The door opened, and Kenshin turned to face the town's elders, Master Seigan stood at their forefront, a short, bald man with a round face and red ceremonial robes now faded with age. "Kenshin," Master Seigan said. "We were wondering... What it is you intend to do next." Kenshin thought for a moment. "I intend to visit my mother," she said. "I'd assumed she'd be in the town, as it's midday. I should have gone to her hut first." She lived outside of the main cavern, in the open air. "Yes, yes,” Master Seigan said. "But after that...?" "I’ve given that a lot of thought, master," Kenshin said, tucking away the book. "And... Well, I've come to a decision." "Yes?" "I’m going swimming." Master Seigan blinked in surprise, then turned to the other elders. "After that," Kenshin continued, "I'm going to eat an Everberry pie. Do you realize I've never tasted Everberry pie? I was always on too strict a diet to eat the pies during festivals. A warrior cannot afford such frivolity." She rubbed her chin. "Everyone says Everberry is the best type of pie." I hope I like it, she thought. I'd hate to have spent all of these years envying everyone else for nothing. "Kenshin," Master Seigan said, stepping closer. His eyes flickered toward the corner of the small room, where Kenshin's armor lay piled, bundled inside her cloak, which doubled as a pack. The Infinity Blade rested against the pile. "Did you really do it? You didn't... Just sneak in and steal his sword, did you?" "What?" Kenshin said. "Of course not!" The fight flashed in her mind. Sword against sword. The God King's voice, commanding, dismissive, yet surprisingly honest. It had been an unexpectedly honorable dual, after the ancient ideal. "And the others?" Master Seigan asked. "The other six members of the Pantheon? You killed their leader. Did you face the others?" "I dueled some captives in the dungeon," Kenshin said. "I think they might have been important, but they didn’t look like members of the Pantheon. I didn't recognize them, at least." Master Seigan glanced at the other elders. They began shuffling, uncomfortable. "What?" Kenshin demanded. "Kenshin," Master Seigan said, "you can’t stay here."

[Zorolo]

The people had continued to stare at the man as he walked. Honestly, they made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Their gaze and approach made him double-take a few times as he paused at a building. The man sighed and pulled his hood back. His green hair flowed forth from beneath the hood and gasps followed by silence followed. Zorlo paused and sighed. "Okay, that's enough. Stop following me!" he stated as he turned. His necklace of rings clattered as he moved and caused people to step away.

"My name is Zorlo Amaranthine, I am known as the Collector of Rings, and I was following someone who seemed worth observation! If you want to complain about me being here, do so after I leave," he commented loudly as he shifted his right hand to rest on the sheathe of his sword and clenched his left hand. His left hand floated quietly over the handle of his sword and his right hand had a green-stoned ring set upon it.

"You don't plan to go anywhere, do you?" he asked with annoyance as the people watched him nervously. "I swear to the... something, I'm not here to rob you, fight you or cause any trouble!" he yelled now. His shout made them withdraw, but they didn't leave. Finally, he sighed. "Fine, you can stay here, just stop staring. Its annoying and rude."

[Kaori]

"What?" Kenshin demanded. "Kenshin," Master Seigan said, "you can't stay here." "What? Why not?!" "They'll come hunting you, child," Master Seigan said.
"They'll come hunting for that." He looked toward the sword again. "All Deathless covet the Infinity Blade," Master Shanna said from behind Seigan. "Everyone knows that." "They'll be angry," Master Hayate said. "Angry at you, for what you've done." "We can't let you remain in the town," Master Seigan said. "For the good of us all, you have to go, Kenshin." "You're exiling me?" Kenshin said, "Hell take me... I saved you. I saved all of you!", "We appreciate that," Master Seigan said. Several of the others didn't look like they agreed. Just a week before, these people had toasted her bravery. They'd sent her off with a feast and fanfare. They'd praised her and lauded her. They didn't want me to win, she thought, looking into those hostile eyes. They're afraid. They spoke of freedom, but they don't know what to do with it. "You should go quickly," Seigan said. "We've sent word to Lord Ashikaga, inviting him back." "Him?" Kenshin demanded. "You'd serve that rat?" "Our best hope now," Master Hayate said, "is to look cowed, placated. Dominated. When the other gods come searching, they must not find a town in rebellion." "It is the best way, Kenshin," Master Seigan said. "You’ve been slaves so long," Kenshin spat, "you don't know how to be anything else. You are fools! Children!" She was shouting, she realized. "After all of these centuries, time after time feasting and dreaming, now you throw it away! Now you throw me away!" The elders shied back before her rage. They seemed frightened of her. Terrified. Kenshin formed fists, but then found her rage evaporating. She couldn't be angry at them. She could only pity them.
"Fine," she snapped, moving to pick up her gear. "Fine, I'll go."

[nekoryuuha]

((I'll join! And hopefully be able to remain active....))


Name: Aihime Komeiji "The Aegis Knight"
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Weapon/s: Bastard Sword and Heavy Shield rumored to be 'unbreakable' as it had never been more then scratched from the heaviest of blows.

Aegis Form: Holy Sword - A lesser known style that focuses one's ability to protect themselves and others to it's maximum, becoming mobile fortresses in battle. To a Holy Sword user, 'Offense' & 'Defense' are one and the same and practitioners of this style are able to freely switch between attacking and defending at a moment's notice, allowing for near-impenetrable defense and also being able to use a shield to attack an opponent with a sharp tackle while protecting oneself or others. To help focus toward this goal, very high agility, reflexes, endurance, & Understanding of how attacks function are necessary and rigorously trained and built up in order to block & counter the fastest and most tenacious of attackers.

Ring: A blue & silver ring capable of giving powerful Regeneration.
App: http://safebooru.org/images/1037/3e10ad ... pg?1078178
Background: A high-ranked fighter in the God-King's army, Aihime was the leader of the forces used to quell what few rebellions came about. She'd been just returning to the main Garrison when she came to witness the God-King's defeat and Kenshin's taking of the Infinity Blade. She choose to remain quiet in order to see what will happen from this point.

===================================================================================================================================================================================================

"...so then, the Great Six are gone?" asked the young woman as she finished looking over the final reports of the palace guards.

The guard nodded, a bit nervous to be reporting on the Pantheon. "Yes, Commander. Just vanished an hour or so ago. The God-King too. All seven are gone." He chewed his lip carefully. "Commander, did-"

"Important business arose and they left," Aihime replied, cutting him off. She had no need of chaos in her ranks just because the impossible happened one strange night. "More importantly, tell Lawfer & Llewlyn that they have command in my absence. I'll be taking some leave now. Dismissed" With a salute, the guard left as the Aegis Knight sighed and stood up, looking at her sword & shield. They were heirlooms, passed down her family and she had a feeling that she'd need them on this coming trip more then ever.

[Zorolo]

"You could join me. If knowing someone leaving is good enough to get the people of this town to stop staring at me, that's good enough for me," the green-haired man said as he stood in the door way. "You know, for town leaders, you all sure do act like snakes slithering around. If the magi were around..." the man started to say as he paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Never mind. The Magi have been gone since the rise of the God King. I can't imagine you people knowing anything about them," the man stated as he whisked a book from his cloak.

"But you... you aren't like the others here. You don't believe the mystic mumbo-jumbo about divines or god-kings. I can tell from that cursed sword the king used that even gods can be slain. Teach me how, and I might be able to revive the magi," he stated as he rested a hand on his necklace of rings. "If magic can be reinstalled into people... if we can regain control over the powers of nature, nothing will be able to oppress mortals again!" he stated emphatically as he shifted towards the group.

"I can understand fearing false gods that oppress you... but there need not be a continuation of that. Help me learn to harness the power of the magic in rings back into people's control... please!" he asked desperately. Finally... someone who might approve his beliefs... his desires.

[Kaori]

Kenshin scowled at the rings, "Magic comes from the deathless, I have no love for them, and I am a swordswoman, not a Sorcerer, my ring was taken from the God King's castle by one of my ancestors, now if you excuse me, I have to go see my mother, I'll meet you outside of town" Said Kenshin as she let Zorlo, she had to see her mother first.

AN HOUR later, Kenshin lifted up an old, worn axe. Its blade was chipped, the haft grayed and weathered with time. She hefted it, judging its weight, and tried to ignore the tempest of emotions inside of her. Betrayal. Frustration. Anger.

Her training let her banish all of that for a moment, as She stared at the axe. In her mind, She saw the ways She could use it to win a fight.

Smash her foe at the knees, then bury the axe into his chest as he fell . . .

Hack at the neck, coming in furiously, using the long haft for additional reach . . .

Bash the axe against an opponent’s shield time and time again to throw him off balance, then step back and strike unexpectedly from the right . . .

She raised the axe . . .

. . . then swung it down at a log resting on the stump before her. She hit the log off-center, and the axe bounced away, as if the wood were stone. Kenshin growled and swung again, but this time only managed to hack a chip off the side.

"Damn," She said, resting the axe on her shoulder. “Chopping wood is a lot harder than it looks.”

"Kenshin?" a shocked voice asked.

Kenshin felt immeasurably better with a good meal in her stomach. Her mother hadn’t had any everberries for a pie, unfortunately, but she’d fixed her some peach cobbler. She carefully noted in her logbook:

I like peach cobbler. Definitely like peach cobbler.

“How many times did I try to feed you that when you were growing up?” she asked her, sitting across the table and watching her as she spooned up the last bite.

“Dozens,” she said.

“And you refused every time.”

“I . . .” It was hard to explain. She’d known her duty, somehow. Even from childhood, she’d known. The town’s expectations had held her to high standards, but the truth was that she’d held herself to them as well.

“You always were an odd child,” she said. “So solemn. So dutiful. So focused. Sometimes I felt less like a mother to you, and more like a . . . an innkeeper. Even when you were young.”

It made her uncomfortable when she talked like that. “You never speak of Father. Was he the same?”

“I didn’t know him long,” she said, looking wistful. “Isn’t that odd to say? We met like it was a dream, married in under a month. Then he was gone, off to be the Sacrifice. He left me with you.”

She’d come here to Tsubasa Village in order to get away from her old life. She had cousins here, though she’d never really fit in. Neither had he, even though the townspeople had claimed to be proud of being the ones to raise the Sacrifice.

“He did have a sense of purpose,” she said, nodding. “The same as you.”

“I wish I had that still,” Kenshin replied. She looked down at her empty plate, then sighed and stood. “I had hoped that now . . . finally . . . I could go about being myself. Whoever that is.”

“Must you go, Kenshin?” she asked. “You could stay, hide here. We could make it work.”

“No,” she said. I won’t bring this down upon you.

“I can’t make you stay, I suppose.” She didn’t seem pleased about that. “But where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” she said, gathering the cloak, wrapped like a pack with her armor inside of it.

“Are you at least willing to listen to a little advice?”

“From you?” he said. “Always.”

“I wished to the lights of heaven that you hadn’t set your feet on this path. But you did, my daughter.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s foolishness,” she said. “You always have a choice.”

Foolishness or not, it was still how she felt.

“You set your feet on this path,” she continued. “So now you need to finish what you began.”

“I did finish it,” she complained. “I killed the God King! What more could they ask of me?”

“It’s no longer about what people are asking of you, my Daughter,” she said. She reached over, taking her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said more softly. “You don’t deserve this. It is true.”

She looked down.

“Don’t despair.” She rose, taking him by the arms. “You’ve done something wonderful, Kenshin. Something everyone thought impossible. You have fulfilled the dreams of your fathers, and avenged their deaths.” She pulled away and looked up at her. “Do you remember what we spoke of, on that night before you left?”

“Honor.”

“I told you that if you are going to do something,” she said, “you need to do it with all of your heart. You have something you didn’t have before. Hope. You’ve defeated one of them. They can be beaten.”

She held her eyes, and she nodded slowly.

“Good,” she said, squeezing her arms. “I’ll pack you food for your trip.”

She watched her limp away. She’s right, she thought. I’ve done the impossible once. I’ll do it again.

This time, however, she wouldn’t be hunting someone to kill. This time her quest would be more personal. Somehow, she would find the one thing she’d always wanted without realizing it.

She’d find freedom.

As she left her mother and the town Kenshin passed by the Entrance, she saw Zorlo and waved at him, "let us be off" she said.

*The God King's Seventh Temple of Reincarnation*
The God King came awake with a deep gasp. It was the uncontrolled gasp of one who had been without breath for too long. The gasp of the dead returning to life, his heart pounding, his eyes opening wide. It was a terrifying, yet exhilarating feeling.

It was a feeling he had never wanted to feel again.

Around him floated the serene sounds of his Seventh Temple of Reincarnation. Soft rain outside, hitting leaves and the quiet rooftop, leaving the air cool and damp. A few muted beeps from the deadminds that monitored his vital signs. The swishing of robes in the hallway outside; his Devoted, hurrying to obey the call of reincarnation.

Yes, outside was serenity. Inside was chaos. That would not do. Thousands of years of life had taught Raidriar many things, but the most important was to be in control. He sat up, reaching out to pick up the helm that lay on the nearby table. The faces of the Deathless were not to be seen by common mortals.

He rose, bare feet upon the smooth bamboo floor, and crossed the room to where a suit of armor stood waiting. One of the newer sets, the height of current design and technology. He’d been meaning to begin using it—this offered a good chance.

His old set had probably been taken by thieves by now, robbed from his corpse.

He checked the wall-mounted deadmind mirror—that mirror would have been called a ‘monitor’ in earlier eras, but it had been so long that he’d stopped using such terms. They could be confusing to people in this era. The mirror’s information indicated that his new body was functioning normally, that reincarnation had been a success, and that all was well in this particular quarter of his kingdom.

He stepped into the armor, which lay open and splayed like a corpse on a dissection table. It began to fold around him, locking into place.

The fight replayed in his mind. Another in a long line of “heroes” come to kill him, responding to the seeded legends. An offer to join him refused. A duel, one on one, after the classical ideal. Did these mortals understand the honor he did them in granting them such a privilege? Probably not—after all, this mortal had ended that duel by ramming the God King’s own blade into his chest.

For just a moment, lying stunned at the foot of his throne, the God King had known true fear. He could not suppress a shiver. That . . . that girl had used the Infinity Blade, killer of gods.

I could have died, he thought. Died the final death, real death. The concept was unfamiliar. He turned it over in his head, like a man tasting a new vintage of wine.

He found that wine bitter. It reminded him of something he had been long, long ago. He had no more in common with that person of old than an acorn had with a mighty oak. No—no more in common than an acorn had with a temple constructed from that oak.

The comfortable familiarity of his armor enveloped him, locking onto his arms, hands, neck, torso. Cool air immediately circulated over his skin, and the armor took account of his vitals, delivering strength, bursts of healing, and other aid through careful injections. He slipped on the helm.

The armor itself had no life, of course—not even a deadmind—and the boosts it gave were minimal. In clashes between the Deathless, one’s own body was the true test. Armor that worked like a machine had been abandoned millennia ago. When you could not be killed permanently, you found other ways to prove yourself superior. Duels were about finesse, skill, and class, not who could construct the most powerful device to aid them.

His Devoted entered in a cluster, then fell to their knees. The God King passed them, his footsteps crunching on the bamboo rug. “Activate the deadminds in the temple of Lantimor,” he said, waving a gauntleted hand.

“Great master?” asked one of the Devoted, looking up. “Has something gone wrong?”

“Of course not,” the God King said.

The Devoted said nothing; they knew the God King was not supposed to have been reincarnated here for some time yet. They also knew not to demand answers of him.

Some Deathless would execute their servants for even this small amount of questioning, but the God King was no fool. Mortals were a resource, one he had used to great advantage when many of his peers dismissed them out of hand. In fact, he was fond of many of them, including Eves, High Devoted of this particular temple.

Surround yourself with people too afraid to speak, and you left yourself to only your own ideas. That could be disastrous. It was important to have men who would question you and see flaws in your plans, so long as you could control them. It was all about control.

The rain continued outside; the God King wished he could control that. He was trying to find ways, for it galled him that he could not do something so seemingly simple.

The eye of the room’s primary deadmind displayed a window into his palace on Lantimor, the place where that . . . child had defeated him. It displayed an empty throne room, and information came up in lists beside it.

A week had passed since his death. A tiny smidgen of time, barely worth noticing—except it meant that the child had had time to escape with the Godkiller. No matter. Raidriar had good ways to keep track of her.

A particular bit of information scrolled past, and it gave the God King pause. Dead, he read. All three of my captives. But those were soul cells. They couldn’t be completely gone unless . . .

The sword was working. That should have been impossible, in the hands of one such as he’d faced. The proof was before him, however, and he felt a thrill at it. How, then, had Raidriar himself survived? He confronted this question, the one most worrisome to him, as it displayed a profound lack of control. That fight had not gone the way it should have.

Of course. It was strong enough to kill lesser Deathless, but not yet at full power. He should have realized this. Perhaps only one more death of the right bloodline, and . . .

Ah, he thought, seeing another bit of information. That could be an issue.

“Find me a recording of the moment where I let him defeat me,” he said out loud. The servants worked, and the deadmind mirror displayed an image of him fighting the child in the throne room.

Too many questions. He hated questions. They would surrender their secrets to him; he had come too far to let this plan spiral away from him now. In a way, all that had happened was good, as he now had the proof he needed.

And so, he decided he had not been defeated. This was what the plan had required, even if he hadn’t known it at the time.

Those moves . . . he thought idly, pondering the recording. So familiar. Who trained her . . . ?

And then it all locked into place.

He’d been played. Masterfully. Worker of Secrets, he thought. My, but you are a subtle one.

“Gather the Seringal,” he said, sending his Devoted to fetch the most skilled of his knights. “And set up surveillance on that child.”

The Devoted burst into motion. The God King sat back, contemplating. He waited for six hours, practically motionless, a few thoughts playing across his mind. He could faintly recall when six hours would have felt like a great deal of time to sit and think, but now it passed as quickly to him as a single breath.

His servants located the child, crossing the rocky expanses of her homeland. The God King laced his fingers, inspecting the child’s path.

So. This ‘Kenshin’ was returning to the palace, was She? Why? The God King leaned forward and watched with interest.

[Zorolo]

Magic... that ancient secret. That ancient power that people once tapped into. I am one of the few left who can trace their lineage to the Magi. If I can figure out how to draw the magic back from the Deathless... I may be able to revive the lost cabal of magic users, the green-haired man thought idly as he held the three rings in his hand. All three began to glow softly as he slammed his palms together and pulled them apart.

For a few seconds, the three rings formed a triangle... linked by green, blue and red strands (respectively) to the other rings. It was a simple enough trick to pull off... but it was a start. If they could be linked... even for a second, then perhaps that link could be extended to people.

I shall need to pull that information from the Deathless then. If they know how this magic works, I'll rend it from their cold, undying bodies, Zorlo stated as he chuckled.

"Let us be off."

The simple words broke his concentration. The three rings hit the ground. Scooping them up, he smiled at the woman and rose. He placed his necklace of rings back on and nodded. "Where to, madam? After all, if what you told me before is true, I need to find Deathless to probe for information. If not rending information from them, then perhaps you could share some information with me as to why these people are kicking you out. If you'd rather not, then I'd think we'd want to figure out where we're going," he said nervously as he tried to find something to talk about.

If he couldn't figure out interacting with this girl, he acknowledged this would be a long trip.

[Kaori]

"The God King's castle at Lantimor" said Kenshin.

Kenshin stepped up onto the edge of a rocky precipice overlooking the God King’s castle. It squatted in the cliffs, like a nugget of dark iron trapped in the surrounding rocks.

She’d decided that she needed to start here, primarily because she wanted to lay down a new trail for anyone looking for her. She didn’t want them tracking her to Tsubasa village; she needed, instead, to lead them another direction.

She started the hike down to the castle. The other Deathless, she thought. Maybe I could . . . buy them off.

Shee looked down at the sword she wore in an improvised sheath at her side. They wanted the God King’s weapon; perhaps she should just give it to them.

No, she thought. They’ll still execute me for killing their king. A mortal did not slay a god.

She continued down the pathway toward the God King’s palace. It stood to reason that they’d begin looking for him here; if there were daerils still in this place, she could make a big show for them of going somewhere other than Tsubasa Village. That might work, might give her mother some protection.

The rocky path was slippery with pebbles and shale. She remembered walking this long route just over a week before, each footstep electric. She’d been marching to her death. That doom was one she’d come to grips with, however, and she had even been excited by the challenge ahead of her.

This time, she walked with a slower step. She felt . . . older now. Ancient.

At the base of the cliff, she put on her armor. She continued forward, reaching a tree hung with ropes just outside the palace walls.

She stopped and inspected the tree. A rope could be a weapon, if you really needed one. Tie a heavy bit of metal to one end, then swing it about and attack. She’d practiced that.

The children of Tsubasa willage had done something different with ropes. They’d created swings on the trees outside of the maw. Kenshin had once stood on one of those, then had several boys push, so she could practice keeping er balance on unsteady footing.

She’d never just sat down and swung. What is wrong with me, she thought, continuing forward with clanking steps. Why didn’t I ever try it, even once?

She reached the side gate to the castle, and a daeril stepped out. Long of limb, with red-orange skin and a skeletal cast to the arms and legs, the daeril had a horrifically twisted face.

Kenshin raised her sword with a sigh. She’d have to fight her way in again, it appeared.

“Great master!” the daeril exclaimed. It jumped forward, and Kenshin stumbled back, wary. The creature didn’t attack, but threw itself at Kenshin’s feet. “Great master, you have returned!”

“I . . . State your purpose, daeril!”

“We live to serve you, master. I am Strix, and I obey. The castle is yours, now! The kingdom as well.”

The kingdom . . . mine? She almost laughed. She’d never be able to stand against the forces of the other gods, even if this creature were telling the truth. Which she found suspect.

“What am I supposed to do with a kingdom?” Kenshin asked, walking around the daeril—keeping an eye on it—and crossing the bridge to enter the palace’s outer court. The court seemed strikingly familiar to her, though she’d only passed this way that one time.

“Great master—” Strix began.

“Don’t call me that,” Kenshin said.

“Greatest lord of all that is powerful and—”

“That’s really not any better.”

The daeril fell silent. “My lord . . .” the daeril began again, stepping up to her. “Please. Let us serve you. Remain here and rule us. Do not leave us again.”

Kenshin hesitated. “How many of you are there in this place, still?”

“Perhaps two dozen, master.”

“And you will all serve me?”

“Yes, great master. Yes indeed! You have slain our ruler, and in so doing have become our leader.”

“Who led you before I returned?”

“Kuuth, master,” Strix said. “He is ancient and wise, a troll nearly forty years old.”

“Send for him,” Kenshin said. “And gather the other daerils. Every one of them in the castle. Bring them to the throne room.”

She didn’t trust these creatures, not for a moment. But perhaps she could use them.

As Kenshin and Zorlo walked into the throne room, she asked him "Whatever you do, don't make me look bad in front of the daeril's" she whispered as Strix led them to the throne room.

[Zorolo]

"I need what's in the library of this palace. Why would I ruin my chance of collecting more information on the Magi and putting myself in needless kinda danger," he stated as he patted her on the back. "Worst case scenario, just pretend I'm your lover or something. After all, as a God-Slayer, they'd likely believe you've been trying to live opulently," he stated as he adjusted the rings on his neck.

"Now then, once they're gathered, I need to find the library here. If I can find more about my lost people, that'd be amazing, m'dear," he stated as he brushed his hair back slightly. "And if you want to test my skills, you can unleash your beasts you now rule to test my skills," he stated with a smile.

[Kaori]

"The castle doesn't have a library" sad Kenshin, she had explored the place after killing the God King, yet, she could not recall anything similar to a library being there, let alone any books.

"Finish what you began, my Daughter."

Kenshin sat on the God King’s throne. What had her mother meant by that? Surely she hadn’t meant to imply that she should take the God King’s place. That would be suicide.

The God King’s throne wasn’t very comfortable—though Kenshin was wearing armor, which never made sitting particularly comfortable. She’d removed her helm and set her Katana to the side, though she kept the Infinity Blade close.

Seeing her face unnerved the daerils. That seemed a good enough reason to her to keep the helmet off, for now. She inspected the Infinity Blade as she waited. the Blade had some kind of magic that had let the God King summon it, making it appear as if out of nothing in a flash of light. So far, despite a week of tinkering, Kenshin hadn’t been able to figure out how that magic worked.

Something chirped beside her.

Kenshin jumped, glancing down. Only then did she remember the little mirror built into the armrest of the throne. She poked at it. The thing had done . . . something following the God King’s death. It was magical.

Poking at the thing made it speak, which chilled him. “What is your command?” it asked.

“I . . .” Kenshin looked up at the shuffling host of daerils—in a variety of shapes and colors—gathering at the back of the room. “I’d like to know how the God King’s sword works.”

“Answer pending. Please enter the pass phrase.”

“Pass phrase?” Kenshin said. “I don’t know it.”

“Would you like to retrieve it?”

“Um . . . yes?”

“Very well. Please answer this security question: In what kingdom did you first meet the Worker?”

So it was a riddle. Her mother had told her stories of magic mirrors that asked riddles. “In the kingdom of night and dawn, at the break of the day,” she said. It was the answer to one of the riddles from the stories.

“Answer incorrect,” the mirror said politely. “Security question two: What was the name of your first and most trusted Aegis?”

Aegis. It was a word for a master duelist, after the classical ideal. The daerils that guarded the castle had all followed the old precepts. Horrific and terrible though they had been, they had each shown that much honor.

“Hiko Seijūrō XIII,” Kenshin said, saying the name of the first man who had trained her in the sword, a retired soldier.

“Answer incorrect,” the mirror said.

“Your riddles make no sense, mirror,” Kenshin said. “Am I supposed to answer as myself, or as the God King?”

“I’m sorry,” the mirror said. “I don’t understand that query. Security question three: How many days passed before your first reincarnation?”

“Uh . . . five?”

“Answer incorrect.”

“Damn it, mirror!” he said. “Please, just tell me how I make the sword come at my will.” She was silent for a moment. “Even better,” she whispered, “how can I find freedom? Can you answer that for me, mirror? Can you tell me how I can be free of all this and live my life?”

A rope swing from a tree, she thought. He’d write that in his book tonight, beginning a list of things he would try, once he didn’t have to worry about being hunted.

“I’m sorry,” the mirror said. “I am not authorized to speak further. The waiting period is one day before the next access attempt.”

The mirror grew black.

“Hell take me,” Kenshin said, leaning back in the horrid throne. Honestly, couldn’t someone who called himself the God King get a decent cushion?

[nekoryuuha]

"The Seringal were summoned." Not a question, but a statement that the message runner nodded to as Aihime touched the the emblazoned patch on her side that marked her as one such person. All had titles and all were powerful beyond all in some manner. While most other Seringal thought her Holy Sword aegis to be little more then a joke, she still proved herself to be a Seringal, at least, in the God-King's eyes.

"Yes. The God-King orders all Seringal to gather at the Seventh Temple," the messenger stated before running off.

Aihime merely sighed as she watched on. So then... even the girl failed to truly kill him...? she thought to herself, remembering as she watched him died, found no pulse on him afterward when he didn't rise. A week was how long it took the God-King to return. Or at least, another calling himself the God-King. Regardless, it meant that possibly tracking the woman that defeated him would have to wait. She left the garrison and had begun heading toward the gates when a Man with green hair and necklace of rings drew her attention. So many. And proudly display them like that. He was probably asking for trouble considering the looks of the guards & people he passed. But if not for him, she probably would've overlooked his less conspicuous companion. The Woman...?! No doubt though. The way she moved, that katana. Aihime was sure of it.

She paused in her leaving. The Temple was just a ways off. She had time to investigate this before heeding the summons. And so follow she did, keeping her distance the while. When the Daerils moved to stop her, the badge of her station let her through. And when Kenshin grew frustrated at the Mirror, Aihime chuckled from the doorway.

“Hell take me...”

"If you aren't careful, it just might, young woman," Aihime replied as stepped into the room, mindful where everyone was in relation to herself. Though she wore her shield on her arm as normal, her sword remained sheathed and she was helmless, also as normal. "So, fancy yourself taking his place? Must not have heard then, have you...?"

[Zorolo]

Zorlo adjusted the rings on his necklace as he looked between the women. "Freedom, power, and truth. All humans seek these things, as you do," he stated as he looked at Kenshin. "Others seek service and are obedient to their masters. This young woman, the legendary Aegis Knight, right here," Zorlo stated as he brushed some of his hair back. "And then there are people like me, who sit happily in the center. Neither law nor chaos," he stated with a chuckled as he stepped from next to the throne.

Zorlo ran his hand over his necklace and slipped on his Sapphire Ring almost unnoticeably as he watched the knight. "I didn't expect to meet one of you so soon, though. I had hoped to at least further my research into magic and rebuilding the Magi first. Still, you know you can't defeat this girl. She killed your king," the man stated as he rested his right hand on the sheathe of his sword.

Zorlo shifted quickly and drew his sword with his left hand as the ring on his right hand shimmered slightly. "I'm Zorlo, known as the Collector of Rings. With a growing collection, I'll soon be more powerful than any other," he stated with a smile as he ran a finger down his sword. "But," as he sheathed his sword, "I don't think fighting here is appropriate. If you leave, Aegis Knight, I think it would be worthwhile to leave you alone... What do you think, milady?" he asked as he stared at Kenshin. He needed the woman to get the information he needed.

[Kaori]

Before Kenshin could answer, a voice spoke:

“The deadminds will not speak to you, slayer of gods,” said a deep, tired-sounding voice.

Kenshin sat up, turning toward the back of the room. Something moved in the shadows, where a doorway led to the servants’ quarters. The shadow lumbered forward, entering the light and revealing itself as a massive troll. It leaned on a staff as thick as Kenshin’s leg, and wore bandages covering its eyes. White hair fell around the thing’s animal face, a face furrowed with wrinkles that were sharp and distinct—like the scars left by an axe chopping at a tree.

“Kuuth, I assume?” Kenshin asked, standing up.

“Yes, great master,” the beast said, lumbering forward. The other daerils parted for him, and a younger troll helped the elder, looking concerned. This younger beast moved like an animal, with quick steps, testing the air with its snout, walking in a crouch. The aged one, however, had an unexpectedly civilized air.

“What’s a deadmind?” Kenshin asked Kuuth. Even stooped with age, the beast towered a good ten feet tall. Kuuth wore a strange robe that had the right shoulder cut out, exposing a wicked scar on his shoulder and neck.

“It is a soul without life, great master,” the troll said. “The God King instilled these souls into objects. They are knowledgeable about some things, but cannot make choices for themselves. They are like children, and must be instructed.”

“Brilliant children,” Kenshin said. She shivered. Had the God King used the souls of children themselves to create these things? The legends said that he feasted upon the souls of those who fell to him. Kenshin scooted a little farther away from the mirror. “Well, perhaps I won’t need its help. I summoned you because I hoped you’d be able to answer questions for me.”

“Unlikely, great master,” the ancient troll said, then coughed into his hand. “I know more than most here, but a cup with two drops instead of one still will not quench a thirst.”

“I’ll start easy then,” Kenshin said, walking down the steps to the throne. “The God King spoke of greater evils. And then, after that, I met a man in the dungeon who claimed to be my ancestor. He said that someone—or something—would come hunting me. Am I to assume that they referred to other members of the Pantheon?”

“Perhaps,” Kuuth said. “Ashimar, the Sorrowmaker. Lilendre, Mistress of the End. Terrovax, Blight’s Son. Others whose names I do not know. Each will be angered by what you have done.”

“As I feared,” Kenshin said, speaking loudly, so the other daerils could hear. “I will need allies, troll. Do you know where I should search for them?”

“Master,” Kuuth said, sounding confused. “These are not questions I can answer for you.”

“Surely the Deathless have enemies,” Siris said.

“Well . . . I suppose . . . there is the Worker of Secrets.”

That was a myth even Kenshin had heard of. She doubted the Worker was real, but hunting him was a perfect way to start laying down a false trail. “Where can I find this Worker?”

“He is imprisoned,” Kuuth said. “But, master, I do not know where. It is said that nobody knows.”

With that, Kenshin looked at Aihime and Zorlo, "Would you two like to help me find the Worker?" she asked, Even though one was a soldier of the God King, she knew she would need somebody who knows the kingdom better.

[nekoryuuha]

Aihime looked to the two of them a moment as she properly entered the room. "I would like to, to learn why my family choose to devote Holy Sword wholly to the God-King's service. But... can you prove to me your win wasn't a fluke...?" she requested as she moved her shield to reveal the Seringal emblem. "The Seringal have been summoned to the Seven Temple. And both know well that one one person could and would do that." The daerill fidgeted, but Aihime ignored them. The Great Six wouldn't call the Seringal, not for this. That left only the King. "Your associate guessed right on who I am, and I value order above all, though it's face matters not."

She walked forward and the daerill let her through to stop several feet from the throne. "There are two kinds of 'Order'. There's the Order that The World desires and then there's the Order that One such as yourself desires." She smiled slightly. "I'll accompany you, if only to see which you decide to take. Provided you don't fall first the either Seringal or The Great Six," she finished, fully serious. It was hard to tell just what was going through her mind with her impassive expression.

[Zorolo]

"Yes, her power could help. My only desire is to collect more information on the Magus and ancient magic. I need the libraries of the Undying to find that. Thus, I need her help, your help, or both of your help. Either way, I have many skills that could be... provided that it revolve matters of the flesh or matters of basic knowledge on rings and the world. I can provide those, sadly not much more. My training didn't allow for it," he stated with a chuckle as he crossed his arms and stopped moving finally. "But I leave that to our new... er... ruler."

[Kaori]

((I won't be around most of the week due to my dad visiting me.))
Kenshin was about to get down from the throne and look for a room to rest in when she saw something from the corner of her eye....

Kenshin threw herself to the side.

As a child, Kenshin hadn’t swung on swings. She hadn’t played marbles, or eaten everberry pies.

Instead, she’d trained. She may not have had a childhood, or a youth, to speak of. But she did have something to show in exchange for that loss: reflexes.

Kenshin dodged before she even understood why, hitting the ground and ducking into a ball, making herself as small a target as possible. She did this even before her mind registered what she’d heard. A click from behind.

Something sliced her cheek. Idiot, she thought. She’d let herself be caught without her helm. She came up from the roll with her back to the God King’s throne, putting it between herself and the windows behind it. Those would probably be the source of the attack. She pressed one hand to her cheek, stopping the flow of blood.

The pain was nothing. She’d trained herself to ignore pain with a specific group of exercises that had earned her quite a bit of notoriety in the village. They had not been pleasant, but they had been effective.

She remained still, pressing up against the stone of the dais. How many assassins were there? She needed her weapon. Making a quick decision, she let go of her bleeding cheek and scrambled up the steps to the throne, then grabbed the hilt of the Infinity Blade in her unbloodied hand and spun around the side of the throne to assess her enemies.

A single figure in dark clothing had dropped on a rope from one of the upper windows of the vaulted chamber. Sleek and dangerous, the creature wore a long black coat that came down to its ankles, with dark brown leathers underneath. It had the characteristic mask on its face, one that he had come to see as a mark of being in the service of the God King—or, perhaps, another of the Deathless.

The creature pulled a long, thin sword from the sheath at its side. Kenshin sighed, flexing her hands and gripping the Infinity Blade. Her shield was on the table a short distance away, where she’d set her helm and gauntlets. She doubted she had time to grab them. Instead, she climbed down from the throne dais and fell into the stance of the Aegis, inviting the enemy into a duel of honor. In case of an emergency, the healing ring glinted on her finger.

She didn’t use it on her wounded cheek. That was a simple cut, and healing had a terrible cost. Before, she hadn’t cared. She had expected the God King to kill her. Now, the potential cost weighed upon her.

Her foe studied her for a moment, then raised its blade.

Here we go, Kenshin thought.

The creature promptly lowered its sword and raised something from within its coat—a slender, dangerous-looking crossbow.

“Oh, hell,” Kensin said, flinging herself to the side. The creature fired, and had expert aim. The bolt drilled into Kenshin’s thigh, where the metal armor plates parted. She grunted. This was not how a proper duel was supposed to go.

Kenshin came up, stumbling, and winced. She yanked the small bolt from her thigh, awkwardly holding her blade and trying to watch for the creature’s next attack. As she did so, she felt a deadening of his leg. Poison.

Hell take me! She had no choice now; she took cover beside the throne dais, then engaged the ring.

The healing effect was immediate. She felt a burning on her finger as the magic was expended, and a shock ran through her body. Her skin grew clammy, as if she’d dunked himself into an icy pond in the winter.

It lasted only an eyeblink, and when she came out of it, her pains were gone. However, in that eyeblink, her hair had grown all the way down to her waist, and her fingernails had grown long.

The healing rings sped up her body in a twisted way. Though they made her heal quickly—wounds scabbing over, then becoming scarred—they also made her age as long as it would have taken to heal wounds naturally. As near as she could figure, each use of the ring took about a half of a year off her life.

She raised a hand to her newly grown hair as she glanced at herself in the polished marble of the throne’s dais. She hated healing. The more she did it, the more . . . alien her own features seemed.

She peeked around the side of the large throne. The assassin was slinking along the side of the dais toward her, obviously expecting her to be succumbing to the poison. The creature yelped in a quite undaerilic way as Kenshin dashed out from behind the dais, running toward the side of the room.

The assassin raised its crossbow again, but Kenshin was ready. She ducked low and jumped in a roll. She came up beside the table and grabbed her shield, turning and raising it.

The enemy scuttled away, taking cover. Kenshin gritted her teeth. Every beast she had faced in the God King’s palace—even the most foul of daerils and most primitive of trolls—had followed the ancient dueling ideals. Obviously, she was facing a different kind of evil now.

“So . . .” a feminine voice called from beside the pillar where the assassin had fled. “You’re not dead then, I see.” Her voice had a faint accent that Kenshin couldn’t place. She said her “eh” sound too long, like it was an “ee” instead, and she punctuated her syllables too much.

Kenshin blinked in surprise, but didn’t reply. She moved across the room back toward the throne dais. It made for good cover.

“This is very awkward,” the hidden assassin said, voice echoing in the room. “I’m going to flay that vendor alive; he promised the poison was a three-breather. You’ve taken considerably more than three breaths since I shot you.”

Kenshin reached the base of the dais.

“I don’t suppose you’re starting to feel tired?” the voice asked.

“Afraid not,” Kenshin called back.

“Weak? Dizzy? A little peckish?”

Kenshin hesitated. “Peckish?”

“Sure. You know, like something has pecked you? Isn’t that what the word means?”

“It means hungry,” she said flatly.

“Damn.” There was a sound coming from one of the back pillars, like the assassin was writing. Taking notes? “Your language is stupid, immortal.”

“Wait,” Kenshin said. “Immortal?”

“And might I add,” the voice continued, “that when people speak of awe-inspiring divine powers, spontaneously growing hair doesn’t really come up. I expected lightning, thunder, earthquakes. Instead I got hair. I’m less than impressed.”

Thunder . . . earthquakes . . . immortal?

Kenshin almost laughed. She thought he was the God King!

What else would she think, finding someone sitting in the throne, with the God King’s sword beside him, speaking with a troll?

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding—” Kenshin began.

At that moment, she leaped out from behind her pillar and leveled her crossbow at her again. She’d removed her mask, and he was surprised to see that she was completely human.

And she was not unattractive, with long Silver hair that she kept in a simple ponytail. But her eyes spoiled it. Those were grim and hard. Dangerous.

Kenshin’s hard-won reflexes meant she got the shield up in time to deflect a crossbow bolt; the woman ducked back behind the pillar, her black coat swishing. She’d been trying to lull him with the conversation.

Look,” Kenshin said. “You’re making a mistake. I—”

The door to the room exploded. A massive, hulking thing of sparks and darkness broke its way through the far wall, tossing down chunks of rock. It held a blade as wide as a man’s stride, and its head was capped by a helm that trailed black mist through the eyeslit.

“What’s that?” Kenshin demanded.

“You didn’t think I came alone, did you?” the woman called.

Great, Kenshin thought, turning toward this new foe—though she had to be careful not to put her back to the woman. That would likely earn her a crossbow bolt between the shoulder blades. Her armor was good, but the Assassin obviously had an enhanced crossbow built to punch through the best steel.

The newcomer stepped into the room, the beautiful marble tiles crunching and cracking beneath its feet. Kenshin was half-afraid the tower floor would fall out from under them. They were at the highest point in the castle, and the drop would be deadly.

Most of the daerils fled, though Kuuth retreated to the side of the room. The ancient troll rested on his staff, head cocked to listen.

None of the daerils offered to help Kenshin, despite their willingness to call her “great master.” Kenshin put herself into an Aegis fighting stance—well, as best she could, while watching two places at once. The machinelike monster took a pair of crunching steps forward, and then another one just like it followed through the hole the first had made, knocking pieces of rock to the ground.

Great,Kenshin thought. She made a snap decision, then attacked forward, intending to try to defeat one of the monsters before she could be overwhelmed.

The assassin had been waiting for that move, however, and took a shot at her as she charged. Kenshin had to lurch to a stop, letting the bolt shoot in front of her, then awkwardly raised her shield to block a blow from the first golem.

The monster’s gigantic sword crashed down, hitting hard and sending a shower of sparks from her shield. The shield’s magic held, but just barely. Terrors, she thought, I’d never be able to parry a blow from something like this unaided.

She breathed out, bringing her sword around to strike, but caught another motion from the corner of her eye. She leaped to the side in time to dodge yet another crossbow bolt. The assassin was fast with those reloads.

“Did that one kill you?” a feminine voice called.

Kenshin grunted as she blocked another blow from the golem. The second golem was rounding to her right, each footstep shaking the room.

“You’re downright unaccommodating, Deathless,” the girl called at him.

“I’m not the God King!” Kenshin yelled desperately.

“I’ll be satisfied with one of his minions.”

“I’m not one of his minions. I . . .”

Something about this situation seemed suddenly familiar. One foe in front, one to the side, one to the back. Kenshin felt as if she knew how she should stand, how she should fight. As if she’d done it before.

But he’d never been in a situation like this. She’d trained in the Aegis Forms. One on one.

Except . . .

The golem attacked again with a crash. At the same time, the second one charged in from the right.

Kenshin cursed, jumping into a roll. The first golem’s sword smashed into the ground, spraying chips of stone, and Kenshin rolled up just inside the reach of the other. She met its blow with her shield.

Terrors, but these monsters were strong. The shield’s magic gave out, and she heard a distinct crack. Her arm felt numb, and the force of the blow hurled her backward.

Kenshin hit the marble floor with a grunt, her vision going black for a moment. She could feel the ground shaking, could smell the too-clean, too-sterile air of the God King’s throne room. She groaned, rolling over.

No. Don’t stop. It’s coming.

Kenshin growled and her vision returned. She was lying on the floor before the God King’s throne. Her hip ached where she’d hit the ground. Her head rang with pain.

Without her armor, she’d have been dead. She could barely feel her shield arm.

The golems were coming at her slowly, cautiously, stone tiles crunching under their feet. Kenshin climbed to her feet, then stumbled backward, moving up the steps toward the throne, flexing her fingers. That was when she realized both hands were empty.

The sword. She’d lost the sword.

She cursed, glancing to the sides. The Infinity Blade rested on the marble floor a short distance away from the throne. Too far for her to reach without exposing herself to the now-close golems, particularly with the pain in her hip making it harder for her to walk.

Kenshin knew she was in trouble.