[Flashback] Moments of Glory

[Rhuryc]

He woke to the sounds of combat. He heard a thunk as an arrowed streamed through the air and met a shield, and metal clashed with metal as the dark knight and Javier found each other at odds. Rhuryc, dazed, hoisted himself up and found the fight stretching around him. The boy's companion was good, but he was out geared. The axe was useless and any ground he did gain was buffeted away by thick plates and linked chains. Armor of that caliber was damn near impossible to penetrate. Grumbling, Rhuryc rolled over and pushed. His arm complained and the muscles gave up, but he managed a knee and eventually found his way up, staggering before he acclimated himself to the surroundings. He had to help. He thought he heard a voice in the distance, Alexis? Maybe. Whatever it was the boy ignored it and started forward. He stepped on something hard, thick, and when he looked down Rhuryc smiled. Damn right. Javier gasped. This bastard was good. He knew he was at a disadvantage and he had been stalling for Alexis to get in a good shot, but that armor was too tough. Instead he had begun to back off, but that left Rhuryc too exposed. Sometimes the man hated being a Knight. His wild flurries kept that sword at bay, but it was only a matter of time before a strike got through. That time, he mused, was sooner than he imagined. Javier flung his axe over his head and watched as his arm was trapped by the shield. The knight's blade soared around to defend and the effort was successful, but he had made a slight miscalculation. A helmeted head came down and Javier recoiled, his vision distorted as he felt his nose break. The motion was followed by a shield and Javier was down, pinned. What a terrible way to go. In defiance the man glared up at his opponent, ready to die with at least a degree of pride. "You!" Rhuryc screamed as he shoved the ball of the mace into the back of the armored man's head. "Killed!" The figure stumbled forward and the boy followed, the weapon flailed wildly and beat metal again, this time at the spine. "My!" Another strike. Rhuryc spun and sent the mace from beneath, catching his target in the chin. "Uncle!" The helmet rolled aside and Rhuryc raised the mace high into the air, intent on finishing this bastard off. He stopped. In mid poise the boy held himself still, silent, confused. That was impossible. Was it? There below him was Tristan. "What's wrong, boy?" Tristan spat. Blood ran down his mouth and he seemed sufficiently beaten. In his eyes there was nothing but the usual stoicism. "Mace too heavy?" "You can't, why?!" Rhuryc felt his emotions take hold again. "You tried to kill me. Why?! Why bother with training?! Why not just off me in my sleep?!" Rage and confusion mixed to produce something that he could not explain. None of this made any sense. "I wasn't trying to kill you, whelp! I told you to go back! Not chase me. You were supposed to make it." For once feeling crept into the old man's rasp. Was that regret? "What about Tyveth? All of those petching stories you told me. Honor, truth. Justice?! What is this? How do you explain all of this?!" The boy felt his anger leave. He dropped the mace and stared down at his uncle with focused eyes, eyes that begged for an explanation, eyes that wanted this to be a cruel dream. "That died with your mother." Regret. Sadness. There was no other way to describe it. "But you." He snorted, returning to his old self. "You're more than what I expected. End it, boy. I have no more explanations for you." "What? No. What are you saying?" Rhuryc stared, his eyes watering. "Do you think the knights will let me live? Kill me, boy, or I'll kill you and your petching friends." The irritation grew in his words until they were laced with venom. Tristan wanted blood. "I can't. I won't." The boy glared at his uncle. "Fine." With a cry, Tristan rolled aside and forced himself up. He abandoned his shield and brought Naravane forward, the blade extended with pinpoint accuracy for Rhuryc's chest. It was to be one or the other. With a twist the boy sent his arm out and pushed at the flat of the blade. He felt the edge sear skin from the bone, but he was not finished. His other arm came around, grasped Tristan's gauntlet with a jerk and slid his fingers onto the hilt of Naravane. The sword came free. Flipping the blade, Rhuryc raised it up and the weapon came down again, piercing Tristan's neck. The boy pushed the iron through to the base and watched his uncle gasp, blood spilling from his throat like a furious geyser. Rhuryc released his hold and stepped back, his eyes wide. He lost his balance and fell, his back side hitting the ground with a dull thud. There Tristan lay, his torso suspended in the air by the silent blade.

[Rhuryc]

Javier frowned. He tried to look happy for the boy but he had listened to that conversation. Now they stood at the edge of the clearing, Alexis and himself across from the young Rhuryc. They had spent some time sewing him up, but he had taken no mortal blow. Perhaps not to his body, anyway. After the engagement with his uncle the boy had remained quiet for some time before he removed that sword. He was quick to return the gifts from Beilan, the sword and the shield. He kept the coat - the leather material of which saved his arm, no doubt - and the supplies, his weapon replaced by the Bastard Sword his uncle had carried. The Knight found himself both amused and appalled at the actions here today. And this young man caught in the middle of it all. Not a boy, not anymore. There was no innocence in those eyes. Men who have killed often lose pieces of themselves, but those whom have been betrayed are often lost forever. "Are you sure you won't come with us? You'd make an excellent Knight, Rhuryc, and Bailen would surely sponsor you." Alexis said, her arms cross under her chest. The woman had watched the entire event and she could not help but feel responsible. The expedition had been her idea. "Yes. I need some time. I think." The boy responded with a cold, cool baritone. If one had never met him before the event they might believed him to just be a general, stoic individual. "We won't stop you." Javier said, his hand raising as Alexis opened her mouth to protest. She frowned and kept silent. "But if you ever need help, Rhuryc, we're stationed in the city." The two men exchanged nods. There was nothing else to say. Ignoring the pain in both his arm, side, and pretty much everywhere else in his body, Rhuryc turned and started off toward the road. He could remember his way back, he imagined, and the small teachings from his companions would serve him well. Beside, he could use some time alone.

[Leviathan]

Thread Award! Rhuryc Exp +3 Weapon (Sword), +4 Weapon (Shield), +1 Leadership, +3 Brawling, +1 Wrestling, +2 Weapon (Spear), +2 Riding, +2 Falling, +1 Medicine, +1 Weapon (Frying Pan), +1 Stealth, +1 Weapon (Mace) Lore Dealing with a Mounted Threat, Surviving as a Scavenger, Syliran Knights: Tactics and Expertise (Basic), The Pain of Betrayal Additional Comments Wow... I don't know what to say. You outdid yourself this time sir. Beautiful, emotional, and this gives me so much stuff to use for your quest-soon-to-be. If you have questions or comments, let me know. Keep up the good work!