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Destiney of the Sword God

In the medieval fantasy kingdom, Rowan, an earnest young hero driven by duty, trains diligently to become a formidable swordsman while keeping his secret powers hidden. His love for Elia, a fiercely loyal friend and skilled mage, is tested when a flirtatious spearman complicates their romance.

C_G_West · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
20 Chs

Chapter 8 - The Rival Appears

Rowan and Elia nestled close together in their favorite shadowed nook, fingers entwined upon the warped wooden table as myriad voices wove an evening song around them. Lamplight cast them in a dreamy glow removed from rowdy scenes unfolding beyond flickering spheres of gold amid flickering flagons and tankards.

Here in their intimate oasis, only love's melody held sway. Elia recounted that day's lessons inclining her ever deeper into arcana's verdant groves, eyes alight reliving each insight kindled anew within ancient tomes. Rowan gazed besotted, memorizing nuances flitting across her features like darting forest sprites alight with vim and wonder. Each detail etched itself upon his soul, precious as verses composed by trembling flame-glow.

In turn, he spoke of errands carrying them afar under cerulean skies and past aureate plains, where deeds great and small were accomplishing through unity against forces that would see peace wither. Together they wove shared tapestries from such disparate threads, finding myriad points of connection between disciplines so divergent on surface yet signifying in essence.

Through it all their fingers caressed unconsciously, as if parting ne'er occurred beyond these hallowed walls where solitary was unknown. Two hearts once more beat as one, severing none could perform rending the fabric of dreams and home - for wherever their paths led, this eternal bond would light the way. The rich baritone carrying effortlessly above ambient din could belong to no other. "Elia, my shining gem, is that you hiding away in shadows?" Cadmon the Spearman elbowed through scrumming masses, bulk lending force his every maneuver could not. "Come, let this old veteran steal you away for a dance!"

His amiable rumble bespoke years campaigning from shore to shore, collecting colorful tales in place of scars. Yet for Rowan, mirth rang hollow witnessing familiarity with which bronzed paw clasped Elia's wrist, hoisting her lithe form from privacy's nook despite murmured protests. Looks they exchanged spoke volumes unsaid during past encounters, kindling emerald tinder beneath calm exterior.

Cadmon prattled on heedless, encircling Elia's trim waist to whisk her into swirl of footfalls kicking up dust of dreams and legends under throes of fiddle and flagon alike. Rowan gazed on stony, failing to buttress heart against slings recalling sole comfort that seeing her thus always roused. But she glanced back with soft reassurance dancing within storm-grey eyes, quelling doubts stirred by outsider's presumption howsoever meant in humor or camaraderie.

For now, Rowan remained sentinel, entrusting her light to none save own bounded strength and care proved steadfast through sorrows untold. Their bond transcended petty jealousies - of this he was certain, come what intrusions may fracture surface calm beneath ripples of laugher pealing forth once more. Cadmon twirled Elia amid frenetic hordes, feet executing intricate maneuvers with practiced ease.

"My dear, you outshine even glory's fiercest flames with your radiance," he rumbled silkily near her ear, moist breath prickling nape left bare by artful plaits.

Elia managed a taut smile, evading his roving gaze intent upon tracing curves veiled by flowing sleeves. "You flatter undeservedly, sir. But I fear such games no longer hold charm - my heart belongs elsewhere as you well know." Her delicate rebuttal held tempered steel beneath velveteen tones.

Undaunted, Cadmon drew her closer still. "Ah, but youth pass swiftly! One day you'll tire such pallid affections, longing for adventure this bookish lad cannot providing glimpses experienced during campaigns across kingdoms and oceans untamed."

Thinly veiled innuendo roiled Elia's stomach, sparking instinctive recoils betrayed by subtle shifting just beyond Cadmon's notice. Rowan marked each subtlety, fretting silently at signs mounting distress beneath veneer of courtesy. Yet fiery retorts died upon lips, trusting in her strength and pride unwilling demonstratively damaging cordial façades.

For now, watching keenly remained sole recourse, until moment opportunity arose wresting her graceful form from meaty paws grasping where liberties were not his to take. Rowan tracked every machinated movement as Veteran and Maiden whirled across flagstone overwhelmed by pulsing throngs. Through narrowed eyes, the easy intimacy sparking flinty judgment contrasting starkly with Elia's subtle distress signals fanning embers smoldering hotter within breast until now mantled well in placid façade.

Cadmon remained solely enraptured by charms writ so plainly upon voluptuous figure bent readily to his every lead and affirmative purr petting ego swelled overtly through years cajoling susceptible hearts. But eyes which gleamed keenest beneath shadows few witnessed penetrating past levity's veil beheld telling's obscured to coarser perceptions.

Elia was distressed, discomforted by leers and insinuations troubling tranquility of mind unmatched by fleeting passions this oaf presumed entertaining her fancy so easily swayed. Nay, her steadfast spirit eclipsed mills of trivial affections clogging veins of fools chasing skirts across leagues traveled solely in search of next conquests.

Rowan knew Elia's depths as no outsider incubating within pantomimes three centuries could fathom. And thus, simmered fury witnessing that which she treasured most deeply so callously imperiled grubbing after breaths better donated elsewhere less poisonous. Patience alone barred cathartic outbursts liable compromising calm so carefully maintained. But simmer flames did, awaiting moment severest trials alone could justify interference. Rowan stalked their whirling silhouettes, flames licking higher within eyes keenly tracking every subtle rejection veiled beneath polite refusals. Cadmon paid no heed to Elia's growing discomfort, arrogant calcifying perceptions attuned solely to splendors manifest upon comely flesh.

His meaty paws roamed more freely with each rebuffed jest, creasing pristine brocade deemed invitation unasked. Elia shuddered subtly yet voice remained level, grace swallowing indignities few could withstand with such poised restraint. But eyes found Rowan's across stewing masses, silently pleading release from liberties stretching boundaries of courtesy.

He longed intervene yet knew well how pride flared at perceived insinuations of weakness necessitating rescue. So, Rowan lingered immutable, molten fury scorching beneath icy veneer seldom cracking save for her. His clenched fists trembled, awaiting sign tenuous control may shatter in defense of besmirched virtue precious as sun's first light upon glade where bonds were first woven, unbreakable.

Still Cadmon prattled on heedless, besotted by charms neglecting spirit elevating mere flesh to sacred heights. Elia stiffened, forcing pleasantry masking revulsion mounting swiftly behind stormy eyes dilating, begging escape from groping contact violating her light. Rowan saw and reacted; constraints forfeit at last before insults none should endure in silence. Rowan's glacial visage cracked as Cadmon's meaty palm skimmed Elia's thigh, her discomfort writ plain upon flushed features though voice remained level.

"That is quite enough, sir," she uttered coolly yet firmly. But her denial dissolved upon thickened air, Cadmon ignores her as many times before.

From shadows Rowan emerged in two terse strides, imposing himself between the pair with a sinister gleam lighting eyes like flint striking tinder-dry gall. "I believe the lady desired release, sir," his icy tones cut through ambient din reducing all else to dull murmurs. "Your company wears thin - remove yourself before further insult is given."

Cadmon gaped incredulously, unused to challenges erasing facade of invulnerability. But Rowan held fast, stare cutting deeper than any blade despite leaner physique. Elia sighed softly in relief, touching Rowan's wrist discreetly yet proudly from behind steel-trap of wills locking in visceral contest.

At last, Cadmon threw up meaty palms, conceding defeat with ugly grin contorting jowls. "Ah, touchiest of lovers! Forgive this old sot, I meant no disrespect. Best I grant the lady respite as wished." With guffawing retreat, oppressive aura lifted at last, tensions uncoiling beneath mingled scents of ale and sweat clinging air grown thick as foreboding storm. Cadmon threw back his head, bellowing scornfully at Rowan's audacity confronting an elder campaigner.

"Your steel may impress farmwives, boy, but 'tis naught to a true warrior's. Pray tell, what fool defense have you against one seasoned dismantling patriots thrice your size?"

Rowan stood fast; flint-eyed gaze unwavering before the threat. "My blade serves defending each soul under skies where peace thrives yet, regardless origin or prowess. Elia is anchored thus to this bounteous land, as am I by sacred oaths no coward dares impeach."

Their stares locked in statuesque standoff, wills clashing with fury keen as any weapon borne. Elia's entreaties fell upon deaf ears as ancient laws of dominance reigned supreme in murky tavernas territories. Their pride and manhood reigned absolute, stratifying all in pack mentality were only strength's right held currency.

Time stretched taut as bowstring notched before loosing killing blows. All regressed to primal instincts shorn of reason's veil or bonds of compassion. Bloodlust scented the air, electrifying crowds surging wildly with anticipation of violence to slake atavistic thirst alone quenching savage hungers lurking beneath veneers of civility. Here in this moment, all balances hung by the slenderest threads. Rowan and Cadmon stood like sentinels encasing the howling masses, each awaiting the opponent's slightest shift weighing anchor to calamity. Within their stares raged primal forces antithetical yet vital sustaining balance 'twixt order and chaos ever teetering.

Elia pleaded between them, kenning well harm wrought should sabers be loosed upon each. "Friends, this serves no heart!"

Her wise entreaty fell upon closed ears until booming heralded the trio's table. At once tensions dissipated as duties prevailed, though rancor remained smoldering embers beneath ash-grey reminder that loyalties oft brought strife as sure as fortune.

Rowan took Elia's hand, guiding her towards their assignment with Cadmon grumbling in tow. Upon parchments awaited mysteries summoning heroes to far horizons where Purpose greater than petty rivalries reigned. For now, calm held, but no one forgot and in halls where destinies collided, peace came rarely and at cost. Their journey had darkened, yet together light yet endured to show the way. What challenges tomorrow wrought, for now remained mystery alone held answer to.