10 The Terror of Ravan the Great

There were seventeen centurions manning Captain Fadi’s unit the night of the execution of Ravan’s family, and Ravan went down the list he had copied from the scroll. He spent several weeks studying their daily routines all the while narrowly avoiding the extensive manhunt the centurions had going against him. There were a couple times when some centurions had spotted him and a battle broke out in an alleyway or open road, but Ravan would see them coming and managed to get away each time. He always made sure that he wasn’t being followed back to the belfry and that he was never seen entering.

Six weeks after his security breach of the base, Ravan finally started to take down each soldier who had been in the unit on that fateful day. He never attacked them at home and he was never concerned that they would cower in their homes. They always had to come out into the public eye at some point to do their jobs at the very least, and that was when Ravan would make his move. There were three battles which Ravan felt were the most notable due to the fact that these centurions actually fought him with fire. These were battles fought against two veteran centurions and the corporal, whom Ravan had admittedly found the most challenging.

The first notable fight happened when Ravan had found one of the veteran centurions riding along the coastline returning from a visit with distant family. Ravan stepped in the soldier’s path with his sword drawn and the centurion recognized him immediately.

“Ravan,” spoke the soldier.

“Dismount your horse,” said Ravan.

“And should I refuse?” the soldier challenged.

“I’ll slaughter your horse before I slaughter you.”

The centurion hesitated as he considered how his next move could be anything besides submitting to Ravan’s demands. To him, there was only one option.

“No. Now if you will excuse me.”

The centurion began to lead his steed around Ravan, who immediately brought up his sword to strike the horse down, but he was suddenly blinded by a bright orange flash, which caused him to stumble back a couple steps.

“That’s the only warning you’ll receive from me, sir,” the centurion said, and he continued to trot forward on his horse.

Ravan was more enraged than ever and even more surprised to be attacked with fire by a fellow fire elemental. He thought back to his training where they had only slightly touched on fighting other fire elementals with fire. He gathered his rage to summon the charged rays of the suns and conjured an inferno just strong enough to knock the soldier from his horse and sent it his way. Now it was the centurion’s turn to be enraged. He jumped right back on his feet and drew his sword.

“You just refuse to take no for an answer, do you?” the soldier growled.

“The word holds empty meaning to me.”

Ravan did not wait for a response from the centurion and attacked him with the intention of ending the fight quickly, but it wasn’t long before he realized that this would not be a short battle. Though at first the centurion found the force of Ravan’s wrath difficult to counter as he struggled for purchase in the white sand, he managed to grasp Ravan’s technique fairly early on in the fight. Ravan had an alarming distaste for fast-learners (even though he himself was included in this category), and he refused to be bested by one.

However, before Ravan could even begin to contemplate how to adjust his strategy, the centurion came up with an effective one of his own. To Ravan’s surprise, a blast of intense heat hit him in the face, once again knocking him back for a moment. Ravan almost didn’t get a chance to recover before another ball of flame was sent his way, but he was narrowly able to repel it. The centurion appeared bewildered, as if he hadn’t known that this skill was possible or that Ravan had learned it. Ravan decided to continue to play with the man’s head and slowly coated the blade of his sword with flickering flames.

“You like to play with fire, do you?” Ravan mimicked.

The centurion fought to hide his dismay and clutched the hilt of his sword in desperation. Here, Ravan charged at him and brought his weapon down against the centurion’s blade with such a force, the centurion thought for a moment that his sword had broken. Ravan used all his body weight to shove the soldier backward, but the centurion somehow managed to regain balance before falling down the hill behind him. So Ravan kicked him to complete the fall. The centurion tumbled down backward, throwing sand into the air as he rolled uncontrollably. Fortunately, he was quick back onto his feet just as Ravan jumped down to his level.

Here, a proper swordfight ensued with Ravan wielding his blazing blade around his person like a protective shield. The two expert swordsmen battled wildly about the coastline, slashing and chopping, and exchanging fireballs between thrusts and parries. As the tide slowly rolled in and the men steadily moved farther away from shore, the scene became almost majestic as they splashed the reflective ocean water around each other. At one point, Ravan spotted an opportunity and took a glorious swing to the centurion’s groin. Even though the centurion’s armor protected even this area, the impact still caused him to buckle over into the water and almost completely incapacitated him. “Almost” because he still had enough strength to send a line of fire across the waves in an attempt to keep his opponent at bay while he recovered as well as he could. The force disrupted the tides and splashed Ravan with boiling water despite him being able to divert the fire itself.

Ravan was too fast for the centurion. Before the soldier could regain purchase, Ravan took his sword to the soldier’s head to knock him back down into the water and the helmet was lost in the tide. He then sheathed his sword and proceeded to pound the soldier in the face with his fist. Once the soldier was limp, Ravan dragged him out of the water to a tree where he strung him up and set him aflame like he had done with the others. Ravan noticed that he had begun to grow bored of watching soldiers burn alive, but because this soldier had brought fire into the fight, it was different to watch this one die by it. Once there was nothing left of the centurion except for his armor, Ravan moved on to his next target.

About three weeks later at nine centurions down, Ravan followed another centurion to the cemetery behind the apothecary. He hid behind the same mausoleum and allowed the soldier time to visit and deliver flowers to the grave before he made his move. When it appeared that the centurion was finishing up, Ravan slowly and quietly approached with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s agonizing to lose those who are close to you, isn’t it?” Ravan inquired.

The soldier glared at him. “This is entirely inappropriate. Have you no honor?”

Ravan shook his head. “You murdered it along with the rest of my family.”

“Tragedies happen, Ravan,” the centurion snarled. “Real men learn to grow from them.”

Ravan narrowed his eyes at this bold soldier. He had a lot of nerve. “Clearly I have lost interest in becoming whatever invertebrate you consider to be a ‘real man.’”

“A real man doesn’t attempt to flee,” said the soldier. “He does as commanded and he faces his challenges to the death.”

“You mean he does exactly as I’m doing now.”

Before the centurion could retort, Ravan connected his fist against the soldier’s left eye, then placed the tip of his sword to the centurion’s throat, who was unable to draw his own sword in time.

“You, particularly, are going to be my most prized kill yet,” Ravan growled.

But before Ravan could make another move, the soldier lit a fire in Ravan’s face causing him to step back and lower his sword. This allotted the centurion a moment to finally draw his own sword to swing at Ravan, who managed to parry just in time. The centurion sent another orb of flame his way, but Ravan took control over it, increased it, and surrounded himself and his enemy with it. The wall of fire overpowered the orange and pink of the dark, dusky sky, and intensified the deep look of rage in Ravan’s eyes.

“I guarantee I can make fire bend to my will more effectively than you’ve ever witnessed,” said Ravan.

The centurion grasped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white, then mentally prepared for whatever Ravan had planned for him. With any luck, his demise would at least be a noble one. He waited for Ravan to make the first move and as he fought primarily on the defensive he tried to consume energy from the inferno surrounding them. To his surprise, Ravan had exceptional control over the flames, and whatever energy he had obtained from the blaze was disappointingly miniscule. He would simply have to fight as best he could — better than he had ever fought before; he would have to focus. After all, wrath was power and Ravan was only running off wrath.

Both swordsmen fought to the limit of their abilities with the flickering firelight bouncing off their weapon’s and the centurion’s armor. At one point the soldier grew desperate and even though he knew it would have little to no effect, he tried throwing fire into Ravan’s face again anyway. Then he created a wall of flame between them and Ravan made it so they were within a blazing whirlpool of fire with the flames licking their bodies.

“Savages!” the centurion swore as he shielded his face.

Ravan found this to be the perfect opportunity to envelope the soldier in the blaze, fittingly above the grave of whatever loved one he had come to visit. Slowly the fire closed in around the centurion until he found himself being entirely swallowed up by it. Ravan watched him burn and a brush of amusement tickled his belly as the centurion continued to attempt to slash at his enemy. He went at it long and hard, howling and screaming as the flames ate away at his flesh. It came to a point where a subtle touch of admiration nulled some of the tickling humor in Ravan. But of course it was all for naught as the agony and smoke-inhalation finally caused the soldier to collapse. Ravan snuffed out the surrounding inferno and all that was left to do was wait for the flames to consume the remaining organic material that was still clinging to the soldier’s bones. Once that was finished, Ravan hung the suited skeleton from the tree which stood above the smoldering grave of the centurion’s loved one.

~~~

The following day, Ravan thought to take a short break before he hunted down the last centurion beneath Captain Fadi. He was well aware that the captain was hunting him down on his own, but he welcomed Captain Fadi to come find him — he even hoped he would. Captain Fadi would feel so proud of himself, only to have that pride thwarted when he realized how much he had underestimated Ravan as everyone else had. Ravan often sat in his usual spot in Pieces Tavern anxiously waiting for the captain to enter and engage him in a swordfight right then and there, but perhaps that was too much to ask. Even when spending an enter day in one single spot.

Even though the event he was waiting for didn’t appear to be near, there were many interesting conversations being had in the tavern which kept Ravan entertained as he sat sipping his mead. Some patrons spoke of “The Terror of Ravan the Great,” which had spread through both Rivas and Mael. Some spoke lightly of it while others were either disgusted or petrified. Ravan just enjoyed being discussed in general, but this well-earned title was certainly icing on the cake. On top of which he learned that Baron Myer had increased his security. It was another welcomed challenge and knowing that his exploits had been designated “The Terror of Ravan the Great” only proved that he was making history; he didn’t mind leaving the world after branding an impression into it first.

Ravan remained in Pieces Tavern, eating and drinking all day long, and paid his tab with the money he had taken from each centurion he had brought down. The entire time, not one centurion walked in, which Ravan almost found suspicious, especially considering the fact that Captain Fadi was supposedly out looking for him. Ravan started to monitor the reactions of the patrons who left so to gage whether perhaps there were numerous soldiers waiting for him outside, but no one appeared to be confused, concerned, or even mildly curious. So at the end of the day, Ravan heaved a heavy sigh and cautiously exited the tavern on his way to his final target, the corporal, Castro of Rivas.

Ravan was aware that the corporal would be returning home that night from the blacksmith after having picked up his brand new sword. He decided to approach the centurion in the center of the main road in Rivas among the flickering light of the many torches, lanterns, and flambeaux. What better way to capture Captain Fadi’s attention than to fight his corporal out in the open?

“Can I help you, sir?” asked the corporal as he sat comfortably on his shire horse.

Ravan responded by drawing his very plain sword.

“You dare challenge the rider of this noble steed to a duel?”

Ravan responded by twisting his very plain sword.

“Get out of my way,” Corporal Castro demanded, disgusted by the major inconvenience. He took the flame of a nearby torch and threw it at Ravan, and to his utter shock Ravan caught it. Ravan tossed it back at the corporal, who blocked his face and continued to stare at Ravan in surprise.

“Dismount your noble steed,” Ravan demanded back.

The corporal chuckled as he drew his new, mighty sword. “My blade of rodpine steel will slice yours in half, Boy. You’d be wise to heed my final warning and stand down.”

Ravan stood his ground. “Dismount your horse, Corporal.”

The corporal shrugged. “As you wish, Your Greatness.” He dismounted his horse with swift grace, twirled his grand weapon, and raised it against Ravan, but he was stopped short when Ravan tossed a coin purse at his feet. He paused to look down at the hefty bag.

“Count it,” said Ravan.

“You can’t be serious.”

Suddenly all the torches surrounding them burned brighter to illuminate the adobe walls of the shops on either side of the road. “Must I always repeat myself to you?” Ravan growled. “Count it.”

The corporal sighed heavily. “If you insist.” Corporal Castro rolled his eyes, sheathed his sword, and counted the money. “You have one thousand, three hundred, sixty-six pieces here. However, it’s far too late to pay off the baron now.” He tossed the purse back to Ravan.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Ravan replied. He held up the purse. “This is only some of the money I managed to scrape off your cohorts upon frying them to ash. After you, I’ll be completely paid back with appropriate interest, and your lives will have paid for my family’s.”

“Seventeen lives for two?” asked the corporal. “You fancy that reasonable?”

“There were three lives taken that night, and you thought they were worth less than a hundred pieces, so I don’t see us finding any common ground in that regard.”

“Ah, indeed.”

Ravan had said his piece and without warning, he slashed upward at Castro, who narrowly managed to dodge the strike and draw his own sword to block Ravan’s following attack. Ravan could feel the perfected quality of this blade and realized he would need to proceed with more caution this time. He had to admit that he didn’t know much about rodpine blades, but from what he did know about them, he wanted to strike the blade at an angle. Any direct strike could break his sword in two. Other than that, to his knowledge, he should fare well against rodpine steel.

After a number of impressive blows and diversions against his enemy, Corporal Castro thought to surprise and distract Ravan with another fireball to the face. He was almost enraged when Ravan once again caught the blaze in his palm and just snuffed it out. Then suddenly every torch, flambeau, and bowl of fire in town brightened to where the corporal was certain that it would awaken some of the Rivans who lived nearby. The potential disturbance was only magnified by the reflections being cast off the amber windows and copper spires. Ravan struck at Castro while he was distracted, but the corporal still managed to block the blow with the steel armor on his arm and struck back with his blade.

Corporal Castro decided to put aside using fire as a weapon for the time being and engaged in a standard swordfight with Ravan. If the bright firelight wasn’t enough to wake anyone up, the echoes of the blades clashing against each other certainly would. Ravan hoped that all the commotion would beckon Captain Fadi to him, he was practically announcing his location, after all. Ravan fought against the corporal for quite a while and no one came to join them, or stop them, or even watch them. So Ravan decided to initiate his last resort.

Ravan led Corporal Castro to the belfry and while the soldier’s sword was lifted above him, Ravan kicked him into the double doors, smashing them open. They continued to fight in the dim flickering light which poured into the foyer from outside. Ravan waited for the corporal to use fire against him again, but he took too long. So Ravan threw him against the crumbling desk and caused it to burst into flames. Castro was quick to move away and Ravan struck him while his defenses were down. Of course, this only dented the centurion’s armor, but it was effective enough to injure the corporal’s confidence.

Castro scurried toward the stairwell to gain him time to recollect himself even just a little, and it was exactly the direction Ravan wanted him to go. As the fire on the desk blazed across the scattered dried parchment and the smoke in the foyer grew thick, they continued their battle up the stairs toward the large brass bell as Ravan lit the railing all the way to the entrance to the gable. The corporal wanted out of the hallway so desperately, he snuffed out the fire which scorched the entrance to the bell gable and dashed through. A beguiled grin tugged at the corners of Ravan’s mouth, and he arched a curious eyebrow at his opponent.

“Was that your first attempt?” Ravan asked. The corporal pursed his lips in reply. “Well done, Soldier.”

Corporal Castro despised being spoken to like a child. The tone ignited a new fury within him and he used it as fuel in his next attack against Ravan, effectively catching his opponent off guard. Castro’s confidence was renewed when he managed to slice Ravan’s left eye, but Ravan somehow maintained the fortitude to ignite a blaze between him and Castro so that he may regain the composure necessary to fight on. Unfortunately, Ravan found the pain too great to reopen his eye. He questioned whether he’d be able to continue this fight, but he wasn’t about to simply give up after coming so far. The war between these enemies grew fiery with the robust rage which burned around them. Their blades flew every which way about the gable, often clambering against the bell. In spite of his recent injury, Ravan loved all the racket. Wake up, Rivas, and feast your eyes on what you have done!

The fire which Ravan had ignited inside the belfry quickly spread over the dry, rotting wood and climbed to the top of the tower. It surrounded the soldiers and flared so bright that the Rivans who finally came out to watch could hardly see the two swordsmen fighting within it.

It wasn’t long before the belfry was completely engulfed in flames. It got to the point where Castro’s confidence dwindled again as he spent much energy attempting to keep them away from him. This Ravan had no trouble doing for himself and when he saw the corporal struggling, he lowered his sword, took a step back, and coaxed the flames toward his enemy. He stood there and watched this high-ranking centurion concentrate hard on fighting Ravan’s will for the fire, but as the agony became too great, he failed and the war was lost. The corporal became the last of the seventeen to fall to Ravan’s vengeful blaze. The battle ended with Ravan hanging the corporal from the belfry for all to see his roasting body. Before taking his leave, Ravan lifted the corporal’s mighty rodpine sword and examined it. It was of lighter weight with exceptional balance, and there was an elegant floral design artfully engraved into the hilt which fused into the flames etched halfway down the blade.

“Noble weapon indeed,” Ravan muttered.

Ravan sheathed the sword before he climbed to the top of the crumbling belfry, ignoring the blood which drained down his face from his wounded eye. He took up the grappling hook he had placed there for escaping purposes and used it to slide to the top of a bazaar across the street. From there, he quickly made his way to the copper towers of a temple. There he sat and watched with his one remaining eye as the belfry collapsed with a final blaring ring of the bell.

Meanwhile in the grand bed chamber on Firebrush Manor, Earl Rajashekar stood at his balcony window sipping a goblet of wine. He watched the belfry collapse, and the distant sound of the bell hitting the ground reverberated around him and his manservant.

“Unbelievable,” said the manservant.

“You seem surprised,” the earl commented. The servant looked at him blankly. “You realize who’s responsible, of course.”

“Of course, I suppose I just never expected him to take down a whole building.”

“Indeed, it would appear the entire country is underestimating him. Rest assured I’m not so foolish. I want my entire army guarding this estate at all times, and I want the best of them to hunt Ravan down. If he so much as lays eyes on Firebrush Manor he is to be cut down where he stands.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said the manservant. “I will get right on it.”

~~~

Ravan had all of Arderé actively aroused in either a panic or in borderline anarchy. Arderians everywhere were either singing his praises or casting him curses. Matters got so out of hand that the emperor had to get involved and commissioned a round-the-clock manhunt for Ravan, who was now forced to find a more creative sanctuary. He opted to hide out in mausoleums in different towns on some days and public stables on others. His first sanctuary was the mausoleum beside the apothecary from which he stole a couple elixirs in an effort to repair his lacerated eye. It wasn’t long before Ravan was forced to come to terms with the fact that his vision would not return to his left eye. So while he waited for the country to quiet, Ravan stole a horse from a public stable and made his way to a distant port known primarily for criminal activity to obtain an eye patch to cover the extensive scar on his face. After this he proceeded to remain hidden from public view until he was ready to continue his pursuit for vengeance.

Ravan thought it not only wise to wait to complete his quest, but it was also a little fun to watch Captain Fadi and Baron Myer stew in their anxiety over whether they may be next on his hit list or not. He watched from afar as the baron had his entire estate recoated in fire repellent, and the earl went a step further with having even all his belongings coated in it. Ravan found this amusing since he didn’t plan to use fire against either of them.

Meanwhile, besides when he came out to spy on his next three victims, Ravan kept a low profile and did not engage anyone who was part of the manhunt. Not only did he have nothing personal against these soldiers, but he wanted to make it appear as though he sought no more blood and had perhaps fled the country entirely.

The only other times Ravan came out of hiding was to eat and drink at a shabby tavern in Mael called Bayhill Tavern. It was an aptly-named tavern considering it was located on a hill overlooking Mael Back Bay, but what drew Ravan to it was the fact that it tended to cater mostly to unsavory characters, outcasts, career criminals who preferred not to bring attention to themselves, much like Ravan. He still had to practice caution here, however, since from what he could hear from the gossip among these patrons, there were mixed feelings about “Ravan the Great” among criminals as well. While some looked up to Ravan and made him a role model, many seemed to display envious feelings against him based on how they assumed he felt highly of himself. So like he had in Pieces Tavern, Ravan picked a dark corner of the establishment and made it his regular haunt.

The gossip in Bayhill was different from that in Pieces; Ravan found it more informative. He got names and places here, and a little more detail, but more importantly he managed to obtain information on noblemen that he normally would’ve had to learn by spying on them. For instance, Baron Myer generally enjoyed a horseback ride every Auroday; of course with his name on Ravan’s hit-list, he had to put this weekly ride on hold. Earl Rajashekar had a business partnership in the works with the owner of multiple bazaars across the country, and many Arderians were beginning to question how seriously Captain Fadi was actively hunting Ravan down. When questioned about it the captain would provide various excuses, such like he was searching still, Ravan was nowhere to be found, and eventually that Ravan was no longer in the country — which was exactly what Ravan wanted everyone to believe and he hoped that the country would soon buy it. Of course, it appeared that the captain remained hiding like the earl and baron were. However, it wasn’t long before everyone grew tired of being cooped up constantly and they slowly eased back into their normal routines. Ravan had expected this to happen in about a year, but in fact it only took four months.

When Ravan felt confident that daily life was back to normal and the intense manhunt had at least died down some, he started to monitor Baron Myer a bit closer so to memorize his daily routine, and he learned that the baron was quite a creature of habit. He always bathed before breakfast, read the pamphlet while eating, enjoyed his horseback ride, took care of business matters, brunch was in his study while he worked, after which he worked more, luncheon was on the lanai, the hours between luncheon and dinner were reserved for business meetings which included lunch, dinner was with his family, he read a book during his espresso soiree, had supper with his family, played nighttime games with them afterward, and at long last it was time for bed — same time every night. Ravan never saw him break his routine, which practically made him a sitting duck. Ravan was even able to play with his prey before exacting his revenge.

One Auroday morning in autumn, Ravan crept into Baron Myer’s bathhouse once his servants had finished drawing his bath, and he left the baron a note:

Lord Baron Myer of Rivas,

I trust you had a restful sleep, as you seem to achieve every night since I’ve been watching you. I’ve learned much about you and your fascinating family. Your eldest daughter is quite angelic; I imagine she catches the wandering eye of many-a-bachelor. She much resembles your wife, who surely ages with grace; I never would’ve dreamed she was eighty-seven years old! Your son takes after you, doesn’t he? He’s becoming an avid rider such as yourself very quickly, it makes me wonder if he’s just as skilled with a sword. And your youngest daughter is a talented one as well, has she ever dabbled in painting anything besides landscapes?

I would absolutely love to get more acquainted with your happy family, however today I seek your fellowship with demands. So allow me to end my prattling-on and get right to business. When you partake on your weekly morning ride through the wood in your grand rear courtyard, you are to bring five hundred pieces with you. You are to ride alone, as usual, and you are to burn this note immediately after reading it. No one is to have knowledge of this note. If you attempt to disregard even one of these demands, your family will not see the Northern sunset tonight, and what a pity that would be. They really are lovely. I look forward to the pleasure of officially making your acquaintance.

Best Wishes,

Ravan the Great

Now all there was left to do was wait. Whether the baron obeyed or disobeyed his commands didn’t matter, Ravan was excited about the outcome either way.