Kalon

Chapter One-Hundred-Twenty-Three: Ularak - Part One

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Orarak City, above the planet's surface.

The man clad in black has not spoken since he turned, his eyes remain closed. He has a deep scar over one of his eyes. His head is shaved clean, almost polished in the light. I know his face… it is the man who defeated me. The one who bends air to his will. The one I think works for Inquisitor Victoria. Why is he here… is this the obstacle I am meant to overcome? There is no doubt in my mind, this is not a coincidence.

There is an air in the room, a deafening silence as all begin to grow quiet. They can all feel what I feel, he has an intimidating presence. His eyes slowly begin to open, he takes stock of the room, there is no inflection in his face, it is placid like water. He steps down from the raised centerpiece and begins to walk amongst the hundreds of us, there must be a thousand in this room now. His eyes pierce, looking at the way we hold ourselves, most look away when he meets their gaze. When he comes to me, I feel my heart quicken, my senses telling me danger is near. I do not avert my gaze, he does not seem to care either way. More strangely, he does not act like he knows my face. Something else catches my attention, there are many Bipki drones. They float above us, always watching.

"I am Dargo, master of blades, and I am your Keeper." he booms moving back to the center of the room, "Most of you will have questions, perhaps questions about sponsors."

There is a small murmur in the room, he turns towards it, and silence follows.

"Your questions are irrelevant, at least until you prove yourselves worthy of asking."

There is a larger murmur in the room now, eyes beginning to glow from anger.

"Yes, you will need that anger. True strength lies between anger and calm."

People have begun to speak louder. Our group does not, we pay heed to his words.

"All of you, all at once," he says, raising his hands and beckoning us to come, "Those who have been marked will sit on the edge of the room. Training weapons are on the walls."

There is laughter in the crowd, but still, we do not speak. We watch patiently. I have seen him move before. There is no one here who can match him. With so many though…

"Or are you all afraid?" he asks, a smile begins to form on his lips as the first among us takes the bait.

A group of seven men move towards him swinging their fists wildly at him, not even bothering to grab weapons, there is no teamwork, no cooperation in their movements. He dodges them with ease, smacking them on the back with the sheath of his weapon, a painted mark on their clothes where he struck. Some do not listen to his instruction, so in a flurry, he marks them head to toe, his movements unnaturally fast. It is slow at first, but the crowd begins to descend on him. Only then does he quicken his pace, he is like water, flowing through people with ease, taking the path of least resistance.

"We go," Nekam says after a time.

Perhaps it is the years that I followed him, but I do not question, I follow in his shadow with the others. We move swiftly cutting through the group, grabbing dulled blades from the walls. Our eyes focused on his movements, studying them, searching for their weakness. More than a quarter of the room has been marked by now.

"Left, low," Nevari says.

"Right, low," I say.

"Right, high," Nekam says.

"Left, high," Neeba says and we are off.

We move with a swiftness, hiding in the shadows of others, converging upon him at the same time. He moves out of the way of Nekam and Neeba's upper swings, diving between us, I move my knife to his thigh, and less than half a second before it connects, he pivots and strikes Nevari and Neeba with his offhand, not even turning to look.

Nekam and I double back moving into the crowd as his children move to the edge to watch. Some people have different colored markings I realize. There must be meaning behind them, he does not seem like the type of person to do things on a whim.

"Sekat. We go again, move in my shadow," he says.

We rush back into the fray, I hide my movements behind Nekam. Part of me wants to shove the dulled blade into his back for what he did. But I don't, I am more than just the anger that simmers in me.

More than half of the room is marked now. We are upon Dargo again and we move from his backside. Nekam feigns right then moves left, I come from his shadow to move into Dargo's blind spot as he addresses Nekam, another man, and a woman coming from behind him. My blade a mere breath from his back. I have him, he is mine. Suddenly, his foot kicks backward right as I am about to connect, I roll to dodge, the wind rushing past me. He twirls a sheathed blade behind him, and I dodge it just barely. He turns his gaze towards me now, a grin on his face as he turns fully to meet me.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I am on the defensive now backing away from him, rushing between people, using them to try and stop his move. Twisting behind their backs to avoid the flurry of blows he sends to me. My heart is beating out of my chest, but I feel a smile forming on my lips, I have never seen footwork and finesse like this before. He adapts as the battle progresses with brilliance. He did not show me the depth of his ability when we fought before, nor is he showing it now. I feel myself growing with each exchange, pushing past the plateau of skill that I reached under Nekam's tutelage. Nekam moves in his shadow now, taking advantage of him chasing me. Less than one-fourth remain unmarked now. He is a monster of refined skill. He does not even use strength from being past the boundaries to close the gap.

Dargo turns from me just as Nekam comes. He bats away the blade with ease and strikes him on the back. Nekam's jaw flexes, but he moves to the edge giving me a look. A look I have learned over the years that means, do not fail. His giving me the look, causes rage to rise though. Who is he to command me now...

Dargo has lost attention on me, and it burns me to be discarded so easily, but I use this to my advantage as the numbers dwindle. Someone throws their blade at him, he kicks it sideways knocking it into another person. How do we beat him, what am I missing, everyone has a flaw. There is always a way. Is it my weapon? There were many others on the wall I did not choose. Perhaps I should change, no, I go again.

When I reach Dargo, he turns and strikes my blow out of the way.

"You've already tried that," he says to me as I pass, the end of his sheath grazing my bangs "Try something new."

Sekat. He is not wrong. What else can I do? He is a monster. Calm yourself.

Moving to the edge I breathe deep, closing my eyes, and focusing myself, my eyes open and I grab a spear from the wall. I have seldom used them, our city's tight corridors made them impractical. They are also hard to conceal. In this large open space however, they have an advantage in reach. I hear people whispering Ularak, a word I have heard very rarely, they look at Dargo when they say it. In the old tongue, it means simply… Bringer of Death. Most have never seen anyone past the boundaries I would wager. Most probably don't even know they exist. For them, Dargo must be like a mythical creature of legend, but I know better. He is but a man, and men can bleed.

I see another object on the wall, a cord of thin rope, it is not a weapon, not really, more of a tool. An idea sweeps over me as I recall how he moves. I take note of the floor, it is smoother than I am used to. Moving towards him now, I have some new things to try. Testing the weight of the spear in my hand, it is perfectly balanced.

My shadow follows another, the spear behind my back and in position. As Dargo dances between the mere thirty that remain, I stab from between their limbs as he fends off attacks trying to get him. Sekat, he is a demon. Even from behind he feels me coming. Soon there are only ten, and then seven shortly after. No one has landed a blow on him yet, no one even coming close.

He rolls and strikes two men at the same time, one in the inner thigh and the other in the armpit, both spots filled with arteries. There are five of us left. We circle him warily, my brow stricken with sweat. Were my withered frame more full, perhaps I could have landed a blow already… no, even then, I know he is faster than this.

Dargo remains calm and collected, his forehead dry, and his breath steady. We move as one coming at him, I sweep with the spear and he jumps it, kicking two men in the process then rolling between them and marking them. It is three now. Vek.

The three of us that remain are all wielding spears, we stab and sweep hitting nothing but air, he grasps a spear from one of the men and pulls, sending the man off balance into the other. He slaps them both on the rump with his sheaths. His back is to me now, and slowly he turns.

"You are persistent," he says with a grin moving to me now.

I roll backward, he only uses one arm now, the other behind his back. It irritates me.

"You mock me?" I ask, as I grab a shield from the wall and throw it at him.

He does not reply, he steps out of the shield's way. His pace quickening. I will make him use his other arm, I will wipe that smirk from his face. There is a quiet rage that builds within me. I throw knives from the wall at him, he deflects them with his blade's sheath. He is pushing me towards one of the large pillars in the room. I must find a way to use it to my advantage.

"You've already done that, try something new," he says to me, his grin half faded now.

I throw another shield, a knife directly after, angled to where he will be, not where he is. I throw my spear high into the air as he turns to dodge the shield, and the knife that comes behind it. He follows me around the pillar now almost upon me. I slide on my knees taking advantage of the slick floor, I grab the thin corded rope from my waist, there is a dulled blade I attached to the end of it. I throw the blade hard around the backside of the pillar in his blind spot.

The spear falls towards him, he stows his sheath and catches it. He opens his mouth to speak when the knife at the end of the cord spins around the pillar. He catches it a finger's width from his face. His eyes blink quickly looking to the cord tied around the blade, then to the spear, then to me. My mouth a full grin seeing that he used both hands.

"Among you, a prodigy begins to grow roots. Whether it will fully sprout remains to be seen," he says dropping the spear and blade to the floor. He points downwards to my chest.

Looking down, I see a series of three marks across my chest and side, my grin fades quickly.

How… when did he strike me? I begin moving to the edge since I am marked, my mind filled with questions. My body is sore. As I approach, Nekam claps me on the shoulder, there is pride on his face, but not mine. Nekam moves his hand from me, lowering his gaze.

There is no pride, not until I can mark this man. Silence falls over the room again as the Keeper moves towards the center.

"Well done all of you. Some among you have great potential," Dargo says, standing back up on the center stage, "You'll notice that each of you has different colored markings."

Nekam and I both have black markings on us. Neeba and Nevari are both blue.

"Those with red markings please step forward," he says, motioning in front of him.

A large grouping of people move towards him now, their heads low, among them, I see the men that attacked first without weapons.

"You betray yourselves by letting anger control you, it is a tool, not a guide," he says, talking to those marked in red, he waves a hand dismissing them.

He begins speaking to each color group and explaining their deficiencies. Each color appears to be tiered, with the higher ones receiving more explanation. When he gets to Blue, Neeba and Nevari depart from us. Nekam comes to me again.

"You did well," he says to me.

I want to tell him to kneel before I cut his heart out and feed it to him, but I need allies. Even the ones I can't trust are better than nothing. I know how Nekam and his children operate in a fight.

"Not well enough," I say pointing to the markings on my chest, "He marked me three times, I did not even see it."

"Have you not seen your back?" he asks me, a chuckle coming from him, one that almost makes my hand find my blade to carve his tongue. It is the first time I have heard him laugh since before I was sold.

My eyes widen as I remove my shirt and look upon a tapestry of lines, hundreds of small black lines all over my back in my blind spots. I look at my pants and see where my arteries lie, more lines tracing their path. The word the crowd whispers rings in my mind, Ularak… Bringer of Death. Looking upon the markings I find myself agreeing. I have been marked more than anyone else that I can see... a deep shame begins to rise in me. Am I really that easy to kill? Why did he not strike me harder so I would know it, did he mean to shame me? Just who is this man that he can take on hundreds of people by himself and shatter the pride I have built over a lifetime...

Why is he really here?

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