SWW 04

Scáthach: World Walker 04

In which Scáthach Critiques Luxurious Fae Baths

The baths were the most luxurious bathing areas I had ever seen. Sure, the water here was either drained or mostly frozen over like much of the rest of the palace, but the grandeur had to be admired.

Marble with streaks of native gold formed the walls before seamlessly shifting to dark shades that gradually became an almost mirror like pitch black as the neared the pool basins. This in turn created a dark canvas in the basins that formed a night sky with stars formed from embedded gems any king would gladly sell their firstborn for. The end result were baths of such depths one could dive into them and swim as if above a sea of glittering stars.

Was it perhaps a bit odd for the Unseelie to have such things, given their winter alignment? Perhaps, winter could be more than cold and misery. For instance, winter’s domain could include sitting at the hearth with loved ones, toasting drinks on the longest night, a stolen moment with a lover beneath fur blankets, and more. Although, a casual glance suggested the baths hadn’t been used in a very long time, perhaps even before the Winter Queen decided to take revenge on the world for the Summer Queen’s actions.

That was something I was still grappling with, just a bit. Was her vengeance justified? I didn’t think so. One lost love could not equal a world. Yet, I sympathized, and could, perhaps, even understand.  

That said, I would criticize her overreliance on gold. The gold wash basins and gem encrusted toilets were a notable extravagance that went just a bit gaudy, in my opinion.

I saw all of this as I had been thrown through multiple walls, armories, bedrooms, storerooms, music rooms, an art gallery, a kitchen, and one theater before I finally embedded in the center of the bath’s walls in a spiderweb of stone cracks and gold.

Maybe, just maybe, I had been a bit careless with my prior words. As it turned out, offering a being of King Edric’s stature, the first strike was a touch foolish.

A howl echoed through the halls as mist flooded through the holes I’d made through the palace with my trajectory. I broke free with a flex and crumble of dusted granite and gold. Then?

Edric was there. He looked less like a man, mid lunge, and more like a wolf, his fur cloak billowing out behind him. Except his fangs were blades that screamed death and glory in the hunt, whistling through the air. The great sword swung at for my neck, while simultaneously the smaller wedge of a curved dagger aimed for between my ribs, straight for my heart.

I bent backwards, kicking backward. Edric pivoted, following me. He had already adjusted his strike only for my knee to bash into his skeletal hand, sending the pinpoint strike off course.

I flipped, bringing my other heel to smash into his skull from the side. This knocked him off balance and back into a great mosaic of a white dragon masterpiece that turned it all into so much powder.

I had two seconds, give or take, before he was back on his feet. It was time to act.

I slammed my spear into the ground butt first, sending hairline cracks all around me. I then swept my foot forward and crouched, Gáe Bolg held at the ready.

In place of a straightforward lunge that would have seen him impaled, Edric threw a five-ton pillar ripped from the bath like a gigantic missile.

I cut through it, the pieces crashing beside me before I stiffened.

I whirled to block Edric’s follow up blow from behind me. The wall that should have impeded him did not, given he’d burst through it like it was so much wet tissue paper.

The blow resonated up my arms with a clash of our weapons and forced me back a few steps, but I held my ground. “Really? Did you think that would work?” I asked, straining my spear against his blade momentarily. A contest of strength I found him winning.

Recognizing a losing battle, I flared my magical energy in a quick bit of runecraft. Spikes of ice erupted upward, forcing us apart and sent him back to where I’d started.

I didn’t go after him immediately. Instead, I merely arched a brow in question his way.

Edric didn’t drop his guard, but there was the slightest shrug. “Can you fault a hunter’s favorite trick?” he laughed.

I smirked. “No, I really can’t. But would you like to see an old trick of my own?”

“Yes,” he growled out in anticipation.

“Hagalaz!” I shouted. The cracks I’d made earlier with Gáe Bolg pulsed with light. Thirty thorny, black tendrils erupted from the cracks to ingulf Edric whole.

Naturally, he cut them down. His movements were like a well-practiced dance, blades swinging to slice and cut through each thorny tendril in a whirlwind of movement.

Of course, I’d never expected the trick to actually grab him or meaningfully hinder him. They were merely for concealment.

I moved. Gáe Bolg stabbed into his blind spot, through the gap in his armor at the arm pit.

Yet, he was already moving before the last tendril was severed.

Edric’s greatsword swept aside my spear’s tip to glance off his armor harmlessly. His dagger arced for my throat. If I dodged backward, that’d leave me open to a counter strike from his great sword.

I took the third option. I went for his wrist, gripping his dagger hand tightly and halting his strike.

King Edric response was as beautiful as it was efficient. He spun the blade and, awkward angle or not, stabbed it downward into my wrist. The stab wasn’t very deep. Yet the fact alone he’d managed to make the stab was both remarkable and annoying.

He’d made first blood.

I reared back and headbutted him with as much force as I could. He seemingly didn’t expect me to strike that way, given it sent him flying.

He demolished an elevated pool before crashing some distance behind it. I ripped the dagger free of my hand with a spray of blood. I began mending the wound, although at the speed this fight was taking place it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

After all, the entire exchange since we’d first come to the baths had taken place in about fifteen seconds, give or take.

“This is mine now,” I said casually, holding the dagger up in the omnipresent pale light.

The handle was made of a tooth. The blade, mounted with monster sinew, jetted out like a wedge at a slight angle. After a few inches, it curved off to a wicked edge. The material wasn’t steel or any variant thereof. Instead, a close examination revealed it was tempered monster bone. How fun. It wasn’t quite my style, but it was delightful, nonetheless.

Bellowing laughter came from the direction I’d knocked Edric. He emerged from the cloud of dust from yet more ruined masonry,  greatsword at the ready. “Good, good! It is yours if you can keep it, Witch.”

The laughter was genuine. He had found true joy at a proper fight after however long he’d been here. Beyond decades, perhaps even centuries? How long would it have taken the world to start disintegrating at the conceptual level?

But it was fair. I was having fun too. This was the first worthy foe I’d had in a long time, even if…

“Tell me, do you know the motto of the Hunt, under my crown?” Edric said, walking closer.

I shook my head, mirroring his actions. “Do share,” I said.

“The crown of leadership was always heavy, but it was never just me. We operated as one.

‘All for one, and One for All!’” he roared.

My eyes widened as the entire world slowed. I threw myself back. A massive hound, head the size of a small cow, ripped through the floor where I’d been.

The entire baths collapsed, sending us plummeting into a massive, shadowy chamber far below. I righted myself, ready for following attacks, to land on the outskirts of a massive, beyond belief mound of piled skeletons and corpses. Around the walls were alcoves, with the resting places of more Fae..

One by one, countless eyes opened in the dark. Hounds, beasts, and of course, hunters, old and new. All emaciated, all in the same state as Edric.

They rose, vectoring in on me

“I see,” I said, nodding. “My mistake.”

I’d assumed they were all dead, that only Edric had remained as their leader. Yet…

“United by brotherhood, we are the Hunt,” Edric spoke, landing atop the pile of awakening near corpses.

I shifted, only slightly, seeing the many new targets watching me. The fight had shifted.

The silence ensuing was palpable enough to cut.

A single shifting bone from the mountain of bodies was enough to disrupt the standoff. I blocked one thrown blade and severed a skeletal huntress’s who’d tried to take my heart from behind.

Blades met and sparkled in the dark.

~~~~

I stepped over bodies, some burnt, some shattered, some simply broken or slashed into pieces. Not all of the mountain of corpses had animated with Edric’s declaration, as I had initially thought.

Only a quarter had.

Their presence had significantly complicated the battle. Casters, javelin throwers, archers, spear hunters, hounds, wolves, all working in concert made things perilous.

Yet, they were not at their true might. I called them corpses, but they weren’t. They were alive in the strictest sense of the word, given sustenance by their bond to the Hunt. But that could only do so much.

They were on their last legs. Even as powerful their bond had been, time had ravaged them. Muscles atrophied, magic slowed, blood coagulated. The state of the world surely didn’t help, either.

What should have been a whirlwind of absolute death only faced by the most cohesive and skilled of legends had countless openings. Awkward strikes, bows string snapping when they tried to shoot, bone blades that should have been stronger than steel shattering with a casual deflection on her part, spells that should have brought the might of the elements down were instead pitifully weak.

One poor hunter’s spell had clearly meant to bring a great wave of water and ice to crush me. Instead made a splash that barely made my hair wet.

Yet, they had fought, to the last, to the best of their ability. For that, I respected them.

I came to a slow stop.

King Edric was finished. He was impaled on the wall. Gáe Bolg, my other Gáe Bolg, embedded in his chest through his withered heart.

He coughed. The blood on his lips was startlingly red, given his state. “Good fight, Witch.  Didn’t expect your second spear at the end there,” Edric laughed, trailing off into choked coughs.

“Tell me. How much did you hold back to give me my final hunt?” he asked after a long moment, wheezing.

I considered lying. I chose the truth. “Not as much as you’d think, but more than I’d like. I refrained from inscribing death on your soul and hid my second spear. Slowed down a bit.”

He laughed, although the sound was weaker now. “Shame. If you’d been here a century earlier…” He coughed, drops of crimson red blood freezing in place as they trailed down his mouth. A finger shakily rose to point upward. “Thank you for indulging an old man. The queen sits on her sanctum beyond her throne. Or what’s left of her. You’ll find what you seek. I… I think I’m going to rest now.” His hand fell limply.

He went still, seeing a future I could not through empty eyes.

I watched over him a long while, feeling an odd weight in my chest.

The fight had never been in question, but he had hurt me. The bladesmanship was exquisite, and the bond with his Hunt genuinely unexpected.

I wondered if he’d woken the other members of the Hunt more for them, rather than any attempt to sway the fight in his favor. They’d honestly been more a hindrance to his skill than anything else. Furthermore, Edric clearly loved fighting. His bellowing laughs were proof enough of that. Yet, by bringing his Hunt into the fray, a chance to let them partake in their last Hunt, ever…

It spoke well of him. The sort of King I could have seen myself following, once upon a time.

I pried my spear from his chest, letting him fall gently to the ground.

“Rest well, good king,” I said, closing his eyes before I turned in the direction of the throne room.

It was time to finish this.

~~~~

AN:

HiddenMaster: Fun fact, much of this was written over a single four-hour stretch. I had to go back through repeatedly to touch things up as I wanted this fight scene to be good and worthy of the Queen herself, plus wanted to give the King of the Hunt his own due even if the battle was decided before it had even begun.

Curious on thoughts on the fight as it is something I haven’t done a huge amount of fight scenes before. I wouldn’t say I’m a novice, but am definitely learning the rhythm and flow.

That led to a lot of editing. A lot a lot. I’m not even sure I’m done!

But I hope it was at least enjoyable.

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