In Blood and Honour

The hum of the Phantom’s turbines soon faded into the morning sky as the dropship soared away from the stillness of the courtyard, silent save for the sound of Autel ‘Vadamai’s cloak faintly flapping in the wind. The albino did not rise from his kneeling position, droplets of purple falling from his mandibles in between his ragged breathing.
I’ve failed, he lamented through the sharp pain emanating from both punctures in his abdomen, one of which was still nestled around his own dagger. I thought I could protect my people... that I was good enough to stand up to him.
Through his swimming vision, he became aware of someone approaching. It was his mother, Fayta ‘Zulmar. “Up, son. You must leave quickly.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” growled Autel. “Let them find me here. They will see me die with a blade in my hand.”
“They will see nothing of the sort,” she said firmly. “You will live beyond this sunrise, though it will be many cycles before you will see another on Rahnelo.”
Unsteadily, he rose to his feet, one hand gripping his ria’kun"Ria’kun": A traditional single-bladed curved sword, similar to a katana. while the other still clutched his midsection. “My honour will be forfeit. I will be named outcast, with no place I can call home. My bloodline will never be accepted by House ‘Vadam or by Rahnelo.”
Fayta observed him through lidded eyes. “A steep cost, if your pride is what matters most to you. Ceyla is expecting, is she not?”
Autel nodded wordlessly.
“Then choose. A price must be paid — the only question is who will pay it. Do as your father would and make one final bid for glory, or live to raise your unborn child, no matter what our people will think about you.”
He turned his gaze toward the skies as she helped him hobble across the courtyard, back toward the entrance to the keep. Word would have spread to the rest of House ‘Vadam by now, and his first challengers were doubtlessly readying themselves behind the doors at that very moment. She’s right. I cannot leave Ceyla to fend for herself, or force our child to grow up without a father. I am not him. I refuse to be him.
Fayta clearly caught the steely edge in his eyes, for she said, “We Rahnelans treasure our family bonds deeply, something that Sanghelios has long forsaken. Hold onto that part of yourself, no matter how far your journey takes you. Do you understand, vsekhei"Vsekhei": Strong and steadfast loved one, usually a warrior.?”
“Yes, mother,” responded Autel, straightening a little more despite his flagging state.
“Swear it to me.”
“I swear.”
A slight smile appeared on Fayta’s features. “The tides of fate are always in motion, but you have fought its pull since the day you were born. Stand tall and you may yet prevail.” She gave his sword hand a squeeze, her palm coming away covered in his blood. “Fight well, son.”
“I will.”
His mother hurried off and disappeared from the courtyard. Autel approached the keep entrance alone, shifting his grip on the hilt of his ria’kun. He could make out the rustle of robes from inside, and as he stepped forward, the doors slid apart to reveal three figures in the corridor. All he could make out was the glow of their energy blades, though he was having a hard time identifying their scents over the smell of his own blood.
Autel staggered into motion, activating the plasma coating on his blade and rushing to meet the assailants. He deflected the first challenger’s energy sword with two downward parries, while a second warrior closed in to stab at him with his wrist-mounted daggers. Despite the albino’s best efforts, his debilitated state made it difficult for him to bring up his weapon in time, and he winced as the energy blades nicked his left shoulder and right forearm in quick succession. He did manage to block a hard swing aimed at his face, however, and used his opponent’s momentum to send him stumbling to the side.
But the sudden move sent Autel slightly off-balance as well, in time for the third assailant to take a swipe at him with an energy glaive. The crackling blade narrowly missed his head but caught against his pauldron, ripping part of his cloak loose from his shoulder. Autel sent him reeling with a kick to the stomach and straightened his stance, just as the first warrior rushed in again. The other two followed suit.
But by now Autel had memorized the movements of the sword-wielder, and he moved into the space his opponent was about to occupy, causing the other Sangheili to fumble mid-swing. The misstep was more than enough for Autel, who impaled him through both hearts in a single stab. The warrior with the energy daggers charged, but his movements were just a little too hasty, and Autel withdrew his blade while taking an extra step back, causing his opponent to lunge past him. The albino kicked him against the wall, and without slowing down, ran his ria’kun up the length of the assailant’s spine.
With only the glaive-wielder left, Autel blocked a trio of quick jabs and dodged a fourth, when to his surprise, his attacker whipped the weapon up, smashing the shaft against the underside of Autel’s chin. The blow sent him onto his side, dazed, though he reacted in time to kick the polearm as it came down toward him and sent the blade stabbing into the floor, right next to his head. He rolled upright while his opponent tried fruitlessly to yank his weapon out.
The assailant snatched the energy sword dropped by one of the fallen challengers, and Autel stared him down, panting with his blade held forward as he silently dared the other Sangheili to make his move. He listened through the ringing in his ears for the sound of his opponent closing in, and with a single upward thrust it was over. The ria’kun burst out the top of the challenger’s skull, followed by a spray of purple as Autel pulled his weapon from between the assailant’s mandibles.
There was a tremble in Autel’s knees as he righted his stance, though he had no time to steady himself as two more Sangheili appeared at the end of the corridor. Like him, they were both wielding ria’kuns, and they moved forward in tandem. One of them leaped over the albino’s head, and his attempt to swipe the assailant out of the air was intercepted by the other, who blocked his attack with ease. Autel retaliated by backhanding him with a clenched fist, only to be kicked to the floor by his other opponent.
Thinking fast, Autel tapped the device on his wrist. Darkness engulfed the corridor, though the glow of their blades shone vividly against the veiled backdrop. He darted up, forcing the nearest assailant against the wall while sparks flashed and sputtered each time their blades met. The albino closed his eyes so as not to be blinded by the dazzling light, and noted the sound of movement behind him. He rolled aside to avoid the stab that followed, and the air crackled as he felt a ria’kun graze him before sinking into the other assailant. Hearing a cry of rage from over his shoulder, Autel swung toward the sound, but his blade missed its mark as well, and he was soon disarmed as his opponent knocked him flat.
One hand flew out to grab onto the hilt of the assailant’s ria’kun, though Autel was slowly being overpowered as the blade edged closer toward his throat. With a burning pain intensifying against the side of his neck, he wrapped one foot around his opponent’s and wrenched, and a crack was heard as the other Sangheili’s leg bent the wrong way. Autel’s other hand closed around the dagger lodged in his own abdomen, and without hesitation, he ripped the weapon free with a roar of agony and defiance before driving it right between the assailant’s eyes. The challenger went limp.
Gasping, Autel untangled himself from the corpse, though he was still too winded to regain his footing. He made to switch the lights back on when he realized that his wrist-mounted device had been broken, and scrambled to recover his ria’kun as the courtyard doors opened behind him.
“Save your strength,” came the familiar voice of his best friend and trusted sharpshooter, Fira ‘Demal. “Can you stand?”
“Yes,” Autel said, sitting up though his midsection still felt like it was on fire. “I... will need a moment...”
“They will grant you no such courtesy. Fortunately, I have come to make up the difference.” Fira expediently pulled the dagger out of the dead Sangheili’s head and held it out hilt-first, extending his other hand at the same time.
“You shouldn’t jeopardize your family for my sake,” chided Autel.
“Yet you’ve jeopardized yourself for them more times than I can count,” Fira retorted. “Now I intend to repay the debt, if you will allow me.”
Autel slowly accepted the dagger, wiping the blood from its blade before re-sheathing it. He grasped the outstretched hand, letting his friend help him up. “It would be my honour.” The albino readied his ria’kun, turning to face the other end of the corridor while Fira produced a handful of blamite shards.
The two of them barged into the next section of the keep, a sparring chamber held up by a series of thick kafel pillars. Lurking within were no fewer than ten challengers armed with a plethora of energy blades, and they snapped into motion upon seeing Autel enter. Fira hurled shards at them one in rapid succession, most of them missing but effectively scattering their formation. One shard flew into an assailant’s shoulder while a second embedded itself into another’s torso; both Sangheili were immediately consumed by the twin explosions that followed, shattering a nearby pillar and sending splinters flying everywhere.
Autel scowled from behind the pillar he was using to shield himself. “Are you trying to help me or destroy my keep?”
“It won’t be your keep after this, whether you survive or not,” pointed out Fira.
“Use your blade. You’ll bring the ceiling down on us if you’re not careful.”
His friend sighed and drew his energy sword. “Primitive combat it is.” They stood back-to-back as the assailants resumed their onslaught.
The nearest challenger swung around the pillar Autel was crouched behind to leap down toward the albino, who used one hand to swipe at his feet. The assailant tumbled unceremoniously before Fira halted his momentum with an upward stab. A second opponent took a horizontal swing with an energy pike, but Autel dropped while simultaneously tripping his friend, who stumbled as the blade thunked into the pillar where his head was a moment ago. The albino leaped up to cleave through the shaft of the pike, before he and Fira simultaneously grabbed the assailant by the shoulders and threw him upon his own blade.
Then the air was cut from Autel’s windpipe as someone stamped hard on his cloak, abruptly yanking him onto his back. He struggled to breathe as he was dragged backward along the floor, fumbling to draw his dagger. The albino managed to roll onto his front, the momentum allowing him to skewer the assailant’s foot to the floor. As the warrior yelled in pain, Autel wrapped his cloak around his opponent’s face and neck, straining as hard as he could while the other Sangheili thrashed and flailed, and finally slowed to a halt.
Seeing that Fira was getting overrun, Autel retrieved his dagger and hastened to rejoin him, although he could feel the extent of his injuries beginning to take its toll on him. One of his parries came in a little too sluggishly, resulting in an armoured boot connecting with his torso. The albino’s vision flared right before a second kick landed against the small of his back, toppling him over again. In response, Autel kicked the nearest assailant’s feet out from under him and locked his legs around the challenger’s neck.
A few paces away, Fira’s energy sword was flicked from his grasp. A pistol appeared in the sniper’s hand, and he riddled the Sangheili before him with plasma, causing the rest to duck for cover. Fira reached for his Beam Rifle while tossing his pistol to Autel, who melted his opponent’s face amidst a glowing green discharge, and the albino’s vision cleared in time to see Fira drop two more warriors with a pair of well-placed shots. Toxic steam hissed from the rifle, and the sniper wasted no time hurling the overheated weapon at the nearest of the three remaining challengers.
Autel ran the recoiling assailant through from where he knelt, prompting the last two to draw their Plasma Rifles in panic. But Fira, who had recovered his Beam Rifle, calmly fired a single shot through both their heads. The sound of two bodies keeling over was heard, leaving silence to settle over the training hall. Once again, the only sound Autel could hear was the uneven patter of blood dripping from his open mandibles.
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