A Kaidon Falls

Autel ‘Vadamai quickly discarded the robe before donning his pure white underharness, designed to deflect heat rather than absorb it, followed by his silver combat harness. He hesitated with one hand outstretched toward the kaidon’s dark blue war cloak. He had never worn it once since he won the title from N’von ‘Vadam, a victory not just for him but for what few young males remained in Ra’kai. A victory I must now defend from greater adversaries, it seems. Autel resolutely snatched up the cloak and placed it around his shoulders, allowing the armour to secure it in place. He strapped on his ria’kun"Ria’kun": A traditional single-bladed curved sword, similar to a katana., along with a similarly fashioned dagger on his opposite hip, before sliding his helmet over his head.
The doors parted to allow Autel through the dimly lit antechamber and into the main corridor, and he could now hear someone running toward him. As a blurred figure appeared from around the bend, he recognized the scent as his uncle Jido, Captain of the Guard, before he approached close enough for his image to sharpen. “One Phantom dropship landing in the courtyard, kaidon. Shall I assemble the guards?”
“No, keep them at their stations but have them ready,” ordered Autel, briskly maintaining his pace as Jido joined him. “Tell me what you discovered about our guests.”
“The Seeker of Truth is part of a newly formed fleet, the Fleet of Particular Justice,” the Captain reported. “They have been operating for thirteen cycles as of this morning.”
Autel scowled. “That’s more than enough time for High Charity to inform us if they wanted to. Who commands the ship?”
Jido was about to respond when the two of them reached the end of the corridor, where the doors slid open to reveal the Vadam Keep’s rustic, modest-sized courtyard. Sure enough, a Phantom sat hovering on the far end, and striding toward the crowd gathered in the centre were three Sangheili clad in Covenant-issue gear. A doarmir cloak rustled quietly in the wind from the shoulders of the gold-armoured zealot walking at the forefront of the trio. His gaze was fixed upon Autel, who could feel the others’ stares turning toward him as he calmly marched out into the courtyard. The other keep members parted to give Autel room to pass, and although he could not yet make out the details on the newcomers, he already knew who he was approaching. “Thel ‘Vadamee. The prestigious Shipmaster himself, come to grace us with his presence.”
“That I have,” affirmed Thel, stopping ten paces away from Autel while his guards did the same. Jido quickly slipped off without a word. “And yet you would show me disrespect by greeting me so inhospitably.”
“I am hospitable to those who come invited,” Autel said frostily, “and I certainly did not invite you.”
“Invitations are for outsiders. This keep bears my namesake, does it not?”
Autel’s nostrils flared at this. “You are no son of Rahnelo. You want nothing to do with us except when it furthers your goals. Now tell me why you’re here so I can tell you to leave my planet.”
The two guards at Thel’s shoulders bristled, but he himself appeared unfazed. “The same reason I came to your little colony before. N’von always showed full cooperation when I needed troops.”
“N’von did not deserve to be kaidon. Like you, he sought to write his own glory with the blood of Rahnelo’s warriors. I took his life to put an end to it.”
“So I see.” Thel cocked his head. “You do not want your keep to rival House Juran’s? To elevate your bloodline so that it is worthy to be called Vadam?”
“We are worthy!” exclaimed Autel. “I am worthy, despite the fact that you fathered me only in name.”
“To pine for one’s father is a Rahnelan sentiment,” the zealot rebuked. “You may bear my blood, but you lack the conviction of a strong leader.”
Autel narrowed his eyes. “My convictions are to protect my village, my people — from you and the Prophet of Regret’s ceaseless warmongering. You will take no more of Rahnelo’s sons from her.” He shifted into a side-facing stance, right shoulder pointing toward Thel as his hand gripped the hilt of his ria’kun. 
Thel scoffed, looking impressed rather than annoyed. He brushed back his cloak and closed his fingers around his energy sword but did not activate it.
The crowd took a few steps back as the two Sangheili circled one another in silence. Autel quickly realized his mistake as the sun began to break over the distant mountains, and instinctively averted his eyes from the sudden burst of light, drawing and igniting his weapon the same moment he heard Thel do the same. Plasma burst forth to envelop the metal blade, just in time for Autel to stop the opening stab without breaking the defensive stance he held. Swatting their interlocked blades aside, he aimed a kick at Thel’s right flank, but the zealot unexpectedly released his hilt and caught it deftly with his left hand, using the right to repel Autel’s foot with a downward strike.
Thel pulled his twin blades free and lurched back, taking a moment to study the albino’s stance and two-handed grip. “An outdated weapon. With an outdated technique to match.”
“They certainly match,” replied Autel. “But there’s nothing outdated about its longevity.” He darted forward once more while Thel did the same.
The two Sangheili exchanged a rapid flurry of blows. Autel found himself constantly alternating between fighting one-handed and two-handed to keep Thel from anticipating his moves, all the while trying to keep the sun at his back despite his opponent’s constant weaving at his flanks. His energy sword provides him with longer reach than my ria’kun. But his swings are slow and forceful — they have to be in order to have power behind them. I can hear his strikes coming before he finishes making them. And so Autel maintained a steady defensive pattern, trying to bait Thel into expending his own energy.
The zealot’s eyes flashed disapprovingly, clearly having noticed. “You withhold your aggression. If you hope to wear me down, you will never beat me.”
“I don’t need to wear you down. I’m waiting for you to make a mistake.”
“I do not make mistakes.”
“Then why do I sense desperation behind your strikes?” taunted Autel. “You always thought I was weak, deficient... unfit to carry the Vadam name. Then I hear of your missteps during the 23 Librae campaign, and now you eagerly jump at every advantage you can gain against me. Tell me, what price did you pay to forestall the Hierarchs’ judgement? What blades are they holding to your back that compel your obedience?”
Thel growled. “You speak of matters you know nothing about. The machinations of the Hierarchs are beyond your understanding.”
“Beyond both our understanding, I think,” Autel corrected quietly. “Only I am not so blind as you.”
Thel lunged forward again, using his weapon to push Autel’s aside. The albino heard the sound of a second energy sword igniting in his opponent’s other hand, and grabbed him by the wrist to point the blades away from him. Thel roared, headbutting Autel three times in rapid succession and sending the younger Sangheili sprawling away. Slightly dazed, Autel’s slightly ringing ears registered movement yet again, and managed to recover enough to block Thel’s double strike with a two-handed horizontal parry. However, the zealot nimbly used his right-hand sword to entangle Autel’s ria’kun and twisted, sending it skittering away.
In the blink of an eye, Autel closed distance, drawing his curved dagger at the same time. He stabbed at his opponent’s left hand, cutting open the hilt of the energy sword and nearly taking off a couple of Thel’s fingers. The zealot did not even flinch, discarding the destroyed weapon and yanking the dagger from Autel’s hand at the same time. But the albino reacted quickly, dealing Thel a kick to the mandibles and leaning into the movement to snatch up his ria’kun in a reverse grip, barely managing to block the ensuing downward strike by holding a low and wide pose.
“Your reaction speed is impressive,” Thel remarked. “I can see how you bested N’von.”
“You sound disappointed,” grunted Autel, straining to push himself upward and break free.
“I have seen your worth today. All the more pity that this was the path you chose.”
“You will not be the one to end it.” He pushed upward with all his might, sweeping his outstretched leg out in a wide circle.
To his surprise, Thel rolled into the movement, and reached behind his back even as he was spun into the air. The faint snick of something metallic could be heard, followed by the glint of sunlight reflecting off it in the zealot’s hand, and Autel’s eyes widened as he realized it was the dagger he had used to disarm Thel — right in time for the curved blade to sink into Autel’s unarmoured abdomen, just beneath the rib cage. Both Sangheili tumbled to the ground.
Autel’s mandibles parted in a gasp of pain from where he laid on his back, struggling to regain his breath as Thel released the dagger and staggered upright. The albino clenched his jaws defiantly, kicking the energy sword out of Thel’s other hand before rolling unsteadily to his feet, wincing as the movement sent a sharp pain shooting out from the dagger still embedded in his stomach. He followed up with a one-handed stab with his ria’kun that went wide as the older Sangheili sidestepped, snatching the curved sword from Autel’s hand and swiftly plunging it into his middle from the other side.
This time, Autel could not withhold an agonized yell. He groaned as Thel withdrew the energy blade, splattering the ground with purple while Autel dropped to his knees. His opponent deactivated the weapon, and the sizzle of blood could be heard from the heated metal, the ria’kun clattering against the ground a moment later. Thel regarded him contemplatively before speaking. “It is true that I thought little of you. I saw you as nothing more than a pale shadow, a hollow imitation of my own magnanimity. Like N’von, I believed you would never amount to anything remarkable, not as a warrior and certainly never as a kaidon. You proved me wrong, and at such a young age too. What a waste.”
Clutching his bleeding abdomen, Autel shakily managed to utter, “Leave my people be. Go back to pretending we don’t matter, like you always did.”
“No, they will be given the chance to prove themselves, something you would have denied them altogether.” Thel retrieved his remaining energy sword and activated it, pointing the blades at Autel’s face. “I will not finish you with your own blade. You have earned the privilege of being cut down by mine.”
Autel glared up at Thel, refusing to close his eyes or turn away. The rest of the keep watched on in silence as the zealot raised his energy sword.
“Stop.”
Parting through the crowd was Fayta ‘Zulmar, Autel’s mother and the famed Seer of Rahnelo. Upon catching sight of her, Thel stayed his blade just short of Autel’s head, though his voice betrayed no emotion. “‘On the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, I swore to uphold the Covenant’,” he recited. “My oath compels me to strike down those who defy the Hierarchs without exception.”
“He is the kaidon,” reminded Fayta. “Unless he serves the Covenant as you do, his life may only be taken by another son of Rahnelo — not an outsider.”
Thel glanced down at Autel, who was unable to do much besides draw shuddering breaths and try to stay kneeling upright.
“Others in the keep will challenge him,” she continued. “If you deny them the right to claim it, then it is you they will have to fight.”
“A challenge I’d welcome, if I did not have more pressing matters,” muttered Thel. He deactivated his energy sword at last, peering around at the watching keep members. “Go, bring the news to the rest of your kin. You have until this time tomorrow to choose a new kaidon, or you will all face my judgement.” As the crowd hurriedly scattered, the zealot peered down toward his son once again. “May your death be swift and honourable, Autel ‘Vadamai.”
“May yours be slow and humiliating,” Autel seethed in response.
Thel clicked his mandibles and walked away. “Were it so easy.”
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