The Golden Warrior, Part Two

Part Two: A Tool for War

Thrawne gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. The shimmering golden blade illuminated the chamber around him, a dark room constructed from a light-grey stone, with only a bed, desk and chair to adorn the space. He slashed the weapon across the air, leaving a trail of brilliant light in it’s wake. His calloused hands had grown used to the weapon, passed down to him by his mother, Azule.

“Mother… I’m sorry. I have been idle for too long.” He muttered to himself, retracting the blade and fastening it to his hip. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Stepping out into the hall, he sought his teacher. The Grand Dragon, Aximand, was in his study. His long, slender body was wrapped around the trunk of a large tree, it’s bark an ivory white color. Carefully, Thrawne approached.

“Master.” He said, met with no response.

“Master!” He now shouted, as the Ruby Dragon stirred from it’s sleep.

“THRAWNE! GOOD MORNING! WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY TO LEARN, MY BOY!” Aximand spattered, uncurling himself from the tree. But Thrawne closed his eyes again, and shook his head.

“No, Lord Aximand… I cannot stay here any longer.”

The crimson Dragon crooked his head, and raised a scaled brow. But despite acting surprised, he knew this moment would come soon enough.

“AH! I see. I see. Well then, my young student! What do you intend to do?” He asked, even though he was certain of the answer. Thrawne placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, Raianel it was called. It was one of the few things that ever brought him comfort.

“I cannot stand by any longer. You have bought me time, and for that I am ever grateful, my dear teacher. You have taught me more than I could ever have hoped to discover on my own. But-” Thrawne was interrupted.

“WORRY NOT! You are a fine student, and a fine man, my boy! There is something within your heart that calls you to ACTION! And I will not deny you what your heart desires!” Aximand reassured, a smile curling across his Draconic mouth. Thrawne looked up at him, and gave a small smile of his own.

“Then… I am off. Farewell, master.” Thrawne said, turning to leave. But Aximand placed a huge, clawed hand on his shoulder.

“THRAWNE MY BOY! I DID NOT MEAN YOU MUST GO ALONE! AHAHAH!” The Dragon laughed, picking up Thrawne and dropping him onto his back. The man was surprised to see that he was almost affixed to Aximands back, a strange Rune he did not recognize glowing a bright blue within one of the scales he sat upon. Just like that, the two took off into the sky, leaving Aximands ancient sanctuary behind them. In truth, neither of them knew if they would ever see it again.

The skies above Etreidies were covered in darkness, as they had been these last few weeks. Thousands of shadowspawn stalked the streets below them, and both Thrawne and Aximand eyed them with contempt as they flew overhead. Each was as frozen and immobile as a statue, as were the countless Imperial citizens that the creatures were attacking. Thrawne shuddered, for he knew that within each of those frozen statues, the light of consciousness still burned bright, forced to gaze upon the malevolent creatures that sought their death's this entire time.

The water surrounding the Imperial Palace rippled as they flew across, sending up sheets of mist that froze in place before they could settle back down. Both of them drew up a Rune in the air, uttering “Prestis” in sync. At once, the sigil of an eye appeared across both their foreheads, allowing them to see with immense clarity. They could feel the dark spirits that surrounded them on all sides, those that attacked Etreidies. But they could also sense one other presence, a blackened heart unlike any they had ever felt before. She was here, somewhere nearby. But where?

“Aximand! Take to the skies once more, and watch over me. If anything happens, send word.” Thrawne said, stepping off the back of his mentor and steed, leather boots clicking against the tiled walkways of the Palace courtyard. Aximand nodded, smoke puffing out from his nostrils as he ascended into the air once again, circling the Palace with watchful eyes. Thrawne stepped forward, towards the entrance of the Palace proper. As he strode, he wondered to himself.

“Am I afraid?” He thought. “Am I afraid of her? Afraid… Of death?”

With conviction, he drew Raianel, and scoffed at himself. Of course he was afraid. He would have to be mad if he was not. But to Thrawne, that fear did not matter. The short golden hilt that resembled a small rod more than anything else erupted into a brilliant blade of immense power, dazzling flames of the purest luster flickering out of the hilt like fireworks. He raised the weapon up high above his head, using it to draw a Rune in the air before him, one that looked like growing waves. He shouted, and his voice echoed across the Palace, from top to bottom.

“CLAUDIA! I am Alexander Thrawne! I have come for you!” He said, the last words lingering in the still, frozen air. He did not know Claudia well, though he had fought with her in the War for Westbrooke, and when they first came to the Gilded Halls. Once, he had heard her in the Silver Rose Inn, proclaiming herself to be a warrior. And so, from one warrior to another, he issued his challenge. But when a woman stepped from the main entry way of the Palace, it was not the one he expected.

“So, one of you has come. Good afternoon to you… Eh, Thrawne isn’t it?” Said Ilyena An-Alein.

The older woman’s eyes looked down at the man before her from atop the staircase that led to the heart of Etreidies. They were fierce and ravenous, like that of a wolf.

“Do not play games. You have heard my name, and you have heard why I am here. Where is Claudia? Will she not face me?” Thrawne barked, but to Ilyena, the bark of a dog was nothing to the howl of a wolf.

“Bah! Can’t let an old woman have any fun, can you? Yes, I know who you are. And I know why you are here. But you’ll be disappointed, child. Claudia is… Busy, I’m afraid.” Ilyena said, shrugging casually in a way that brought a shiver of rage of Thrawnes spine. He shuddered, the fear that he had felt now on the cusp of being overtaken by fury.

“I don’t care if she is busy, you old witch. She will face me. And I will not be denied by the likes of you!” He said, trying to remain calm.

“You are bold! Your grandfather would have been very proud of you, standing here today all heroic-like.” Ilyena laughed, taking a step down the stairs. Thrawne was shocked.

“My… Grandfather?! What do you know of him, woman? Tell me, or else I shall… I shall-”

“You shall what?!” Ilyena shouted. “Strike me down? You don’t have it in you. And even if you did… That would be a battle you have no chance of winning. Yes, I know of your grandfather. I knew him in the flesh, while he still walked the earth! But that was a long, long time ago. The old ways are dying, and our memories of the past will be wiped clean, to make room for the new era that will soon arise.”

Thrawne closed his eyes again, eyelids held tightly shut, his body shaking. He had come to Etreidies to learn of his grandfather, to know his fate, to know what became of him. That was his mother's last wish, her last plea to him. And now, as he had been time and time again, he was denied the answers he sought. Raianel shuddered, lifted up high again. But Ilyena An-Alein was not impressed.

“That sword… It shines with golden light, and you wield it as if you had a higher purpose. But it is merely a sword, a tool wrought for destruction, and death. Do not wave around such a thing before me, as if you know a thing!” Ilyena once again shouted, taking another step down. Her eyes glowed a pale yellow, as the earth around her began to shake. Stone tiles lifted up from their place, and began spinning around her with frightening speed. One by one, they shot out towards Thrawne, who slashed them down with Raianel, scattering fragments of rock all around him, with some tiles embedded deep into the earth, sharp as razors.

“Your powers are nothing to me, old woman!” Thrawne said, sprinting forward with speed that surprised Ilyena. In an instant, she raised a hand, stopping Thrawne in his tracks with tendrils of ice, conjured up from nothingness by the old Dream-Walker.

“My powers are beyond your understanding. But very well. You’ve impressed me with that… Display. You wish to see Claudia? Fine! But let us find out if she wishes to see you.” She said, pulling Thrawne into the Palace. The crystalline barrier that had overtaken the structure seemed to melt away as Ilyena approached, reforming just as quickly behind her as she stepped forward. Down the seemingly endless corridors they went, through the splendorous halls of the Divine Protectors home.

They descended into the very depths of the Palace. Countless paths and doors stretched out all around them, but Ilyena walked through them as if she knew them by heart. Finally, on what Thrawne could only imagine was the deepest level of the place, a set of doors stood closed before them. They opened on their own at Ilyenas approach, and Thrawne was awe-struck at the massive cavernous chamber that was now laid bare before him. It’s bottom was full of water, and within that water, there stood a great being, A Colossus. It’s body was shining black, covered in uncountable runes, sigils and glyphs of ancient origin and untold power. What more, he saw that someone was in the air at the face of the Colossus, white hair flowing backwards behind her, a black wind erupting from her hands, which laid atop the mighty entity in front of her.

Ilyena shouted out to the woman, whom Thrawne knew to be Claudia. But the usurper of Etreidies paid them little heed, focusing on what was in front of her. Thrawne could hear her mutter under her breath, the noise carried across the subterranean cavern in a way unlike he had ever seen. The voice was like a whisper, coming from all sides. But he could hear those words with perfect clarity.

“No… It isn’t enough. The twin must be invoked, but Nemesis cannot bare this alone… Truefire, perhaps? No, I could not ask that of him. Lightsplitter, maybe? But Zack is not here. Gods above, what am I to do? Has it all been for nothing? The final step, and it eludes me!”

With all his strength, Thrawne called out to her.

“CLAUDIA! Face me, if you are a warrior!” He said, the fury that was welling up inside him close to boiling over. At once, Claudia’s head rose, as she gently floated aloft towards the man, and Ilyena. She saw Raianel, still aflame in Thrawnes hand. As her pale skin was illuminated by the golden blade, her eyes widened and a grin erupted across her face.

“Alexander Thrawne! It is good to see you. How auspicious! You have just what I need.” She said, the voice still carried into Thrawnes ears by those insidious whispers. She reached out towards it, slender fingers sliding up the palm of Thrawnes hand, and onto the hilt of his weapon. With all his might, Thrawne fought back the fear within himself, and mustered every ounce of strength he had.

“VASHA!” He shouted, the forked rune for fire erupting across the frozen prison that Ilyena had conjured. The power of the dream was mighty indeed, but Thrawne knew that ice was still ice. It melted away, dripping down towards the water below, but freezing in the air just before it could join with it. Claudia snarled as the flames scorched her hand. She pulled her hand away, but Thrawne was far from over.

“YAR’KALOR!” He spoke again, as a tendril of steel shot up from the ground, sharper than any razor. It pierced directly through Claudias hand, the one that had touched Raianel, causing crimson blood to drip out into the air, motionless. Yet, Claudia seemed undisturbed by the power of his rune. More than that, she seemed almost impressed.

“Incredible! That was an excellent display of Rune-Craft, Alexander Thrawne. Forgive me… I should not just take it from you.” She said, nodding to herself with an assured look. “After all, you are an honored comrade, and a fellow warrior of the Rebellion. Yes… I will not dishonor you. If it is a battle you seek, then-”

Once more, the doors to the cavern opened. Thrawne was surprised once again to see Hector An-Alein, nephew of Ilyena, step through them. Claudia immediately moved her attention away from Thrawne, and spoke to Hector.

“You’ve returned. How did it go? Did you find it?” She asked.

Hector nodded, but with a solemn look on his face. In his hands rested a deep-red band of cloth, upon which laid the blade of a sword, white like snow. With it, two pairs of golden wings, curled into a helix, and a matching pommel with protrusions almost like feathers.

“This was all that was there, my Empress. I am afraid that the Radiant One’s blade is incomplete.” Hector said, his eyes shifting to Thrawne.

“Funny, that. These things have a tendency to be broken, it seems. But…” Claudia trailed off, eyeing Raianel once again. She smiled, and Ilyena looked at her, puzzled. The white-haired woman pointed to Thrawnes weapon, passed down to him through generations of his family. Then, she looked upon the pieces of the weapon that Hector had now brought. Ilyena blinked rapidly, memory stirring.

“That… Blade. Could it be? I had not noticed it before, but… What are the odds?” The older woman asked, dumbfounded.

“Odds? No, my dearest Ilyena. This is fate!” Claudia laughed, turning to Thrawne once again.

“My friend! You wish to face me? Very well! But first, you must prove your worthiness as a warrior. I offer this to you, for the sake of the blood we both spilled during the last war. Consider it a gift. Hector shall be your opponent, if it pleases him.

Both men looked at Claudia confused, then turned to each other. Neither knew the other well, but the bonds of fate connected them. Two men, both trained by Aximand in the art of Runes. Two men, connected by their shared companionship with Elysia. In another life, perhaps they could have been comrades in arms. Friends, even. But the will of Claudia was absolute to Hector, for it was to her that his new oaths were sworn. And to Thrawne, the man before him was just another obstacle.

“...Very well.” Hector said, placing the band of cloth onto the floor, and drawing his own blade. Thrawne in turn raised Raianel, taking a defensive stance. Their eyes locked, and their feet moved on their own, slowly moving in a circle as the two women with them backed off to watch. Claudia smiled.

“Begin.”