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AF Chapter 434 – A Scolding before a Brother

  “Is that a Sun Brother? Here?” Princess Kristie asked, startled at seeing one of the noble myrmidons of Elemental Fire as we filed into the crater/courtyard of Mount Lethe. They were reputed to be some sort of off-shot of Fire Titans and genies or something, powerful warriors with great authority, if fading influence as a race, in the Elemental Realms.

  Of course, that was back on Luna-Terra and from the game. Who knew what the situation would be with this fellow.

  The massive Magma Golum, twice the height of a normal one, standing next to the throne of polished basalt and obsidian the Sun Brother was lounging on was immediately identifiable.

  “YOU!” the massive intelligent Golum ground out, pointing with vestigial fingers on its clublike arms. “THESE ARE THE ONES I WARNED YOU OF, PLURINAM ICANDESC! THEY ASSAULTED ME BEFORE WITH ICE AND COLD, AS I WAS GOING ABOUT MY DUTIES OF FIGHTING THE FORCES OF WINTER!”

  “You mean, trying to clean up after the mess your crude snowball Construct made of things, don’t you, Lord Scold?” I asked politely as we approached the throne, stopping at a polite distance as the molten eyes of the Sun Brother eyed us with some amusement.

  My statement did get all the Elementals turning their heads Scold’s way, disbelief and revulsion in their gazes as they did so.

  “LIES FROM CREATURES OF COLD AND WATER!” Scold shot back instantly. “ALL KNOW HOW SLY THE TONGUES OF THE WATERFORMS ARE!”

  “TRUTH.”

  I wasn’t going to waste time on this crap, and every Pyric creature in the crater there rocked, some of them doubling over and clutching their heads as the Word of Creation seared at them… and most especially any recent lies they’d been told by this doofus of a golum in front of me.

  The Plurinam, a noble rank equal to a Duke or so, clutched his head as glowing snot ran out of his nose, coughing and spitting as what looked like unclean fires were expelled from him. The gaze he turned on the golum had the massive fellow stumbling back awkwardly, already unbalanced as Scold also reeled from the impact of Truth.

  “A Truthspeaker, in my court,” the Sun Brother breathed out in a magnificent voice underscored by the fires of a working bellows. “This is a rare day.”

  “You will have to forgive the golum his lies. He does not understand the duties of the Elements, only his own small experiences that whatever constructed him motivated him into. He does not know that as the earth turns and day after day the sun rises, as the years pass and mountains are ground down, seas move, continents sink and rise again, the earth lives and breathes and changes… but the Fire, and its promises, look down upon them uncaring from the Heavens, and ten millions years may pass, yet still it burns, never wavering.”

  The Sun Brother noble visibly straightened at that image of pure fidelity and unwavering duty. He did not even bother to look at Scold as he said, “Begone from this place, golum. If you think to bring to life things of ice and snow, then you have no place in this court!”

  Eh, no reason to reveal my aptitude with cold, I considered prudently.

  Scold looked back and forth between us and the Plurinam, but the tensing of the entire Court there was plain enough that if he said anything he was going to be torn apart as just another impure creation of Earth and Fire, and that would be that.

  “WE WILL SEE ONE ANOTHER AGAIN,” he promised us, while taking a wide walk around us and heading with weighty yet energetic strides for the way out, dismissed as he was.

  -Notify the next group of Knights that go to Mount Esper for Infusions to warn the Hellion there of the sunuvabitch,- I /mentioned to Kris, who promptly did just that.

  The Sun Brother was now studying us and our revealed Weapons with interest. “You wield the Lost Light. It has been long since true members of the Order came here to Infuse their Blades. Do you believe you are worthy to wield the Light?”

  I frowned at him severely. “You doubt the ability of the Font to choose its wielders, Plurinam?” I asked slowly right back at him, while the motes of Lost Light around Crown flared Golden suddenly in response to my sudden doubt. I lifted Crown up as my wings slowly spread. “You are not an original Keeper of the Flames, or you would not voice such a question,” I stated grimly, making everyone behind me tense up, and their eyes narrow. Nobody had Frost-Stoned Weapons at the moment because it might be construed as insulting, but they were definitely ready to swap them in instantly.

  The Sun Brother just laughed at our display. “You are correct, I am not the one who made that promise long ago, but it is one of the duties I must discharge. I would see what valor those who come to bear the Lost Light have, that earned the fires of this place from them as a boon!” he proclaimed jovially.

  I just blinked at him for a moment, wondering if he really was a big doofus just looking to show off and flex on us. I did notice his burning eyes kept flitting to Endure.

  “Oh, you want a duel and a display of combat skills.” I said it in such a bored tone that he raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Your Highness, if you would.” I turned around and shooed everyone else off to the side. “Make way for Her Highness,” I urged everyone, backing them up with a completely blasé expression.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Kris happily stepped right on up, her very, very eager smile gleaming off eight canines.

  This clearly surprised the Sun Brother, who was easily over twice her height. “A female?” he said in astonishment, glancing at Briggs. “Do you hide behind a woman, warrior?” he promptly challenged Briggs, who froze instantly.

  The Plurinam was absolutely too self-absorbed to see how Kris’ eyes got very wide and very small at the same time. Those of us with ki, which was all of us and none of his court, felt like a sharp blade was just unsheathed in front of us.

  Briggs’ expression was pretty flat, too. “Do you want to fight the best fighter among us, or do you want me hitting you with a Hammer, Plurinam?” he retorted coolly, his pale green eyes calm and guileless.

  The Sun Brother leader hesitated, glancing back and forth between them.

  “And take the Firephasing off that travesty of a Sword you have leaning there, or you’ll do no harm to me at all,” Kris broke in icily, a haughty sneer in her voice. “You are not going to harm me with fire.”

  He promptly swept a hand at her, his expression affronted, and a Fireball detonated around her.

  Well, it tried to. What actually happened is that the streak of fire hit her Null and vanished completely, making him blink, and Kris just snorted in contempt.

  Kris flicked Quaver out to full length, and oh-so-gently, Quaver began to chime.

  It sounded like little blades in the ear.

  Also, he looked at the orange-tinted Gold around the blue-black adamantine of her Blade, that obscene QL it was forged at, the Elemental and Blackfire Stones mounted in it, the way the Runes stabbed at the eyes with their perfection. His jaw dropped at the sight of it, eyes lighting up with desire and admiration.

  “Oh, you want my Sword. Given how poor your own Blade is, I can understand why. What did you make it from, eshbronze?” she sniffed disparagingly, and his embarrassed flush was remarkably easy to see. “My opinion of your skills in smithcraft and aesthetics falls by the second, Plurinam.

  “I am Imperial Princess Kristie Rantha, and I am a Knight of the Lost Light,” she stated in no uncertain terms, her eyes dangerously narrowed. “I imagine you have some pride in your fencing skills. Take up that eyesore of a Weapon and be prepared to be instructed on how the Lost Light chooses those who represent it, Plurinam!” she ordered him, and he was snatching up the eight-foot Blade before he could stop himself, responding to the arrogance in her voice, and the sudden feeling that she grossly out-ranked him.

  “If your skills match your spirit, this will be a fine battle, Princess!” he declared happily, oozing confidence as he marched out towards her.

  “If your footwork matched your confidence, it might. Magos?” she asked neutrally, lifting Quaver’s perfection against the flaming Sword opposite her, as the Plurinam did the same.

  “Begin,” I waved my hand dismissively.

  Crackwhack ting OOOF thud. “I told you you’re not going to harm me with Fire. You might as well be waving an illusion at me. Now pick up your Sword, make it a real Weapon, and try again.”

  Teeth grit and clearly embarrassed at the utter lack of an injury across her midriff which she had blatantly left exposed to him, just so she could crack his wrists and force him to drop his Sword, the Plurinam grabbed for his fallen Blade.

  The swirling bronze shifted from its energy state to something more solid, and the Sun Brother actually looked like he was getting serious. “My apologies for that. This will not go the same way,” he promised confidently.

  “Indeed.”

  “Begin!”

  Shingchingwhingwhine thud. “I told you your footwork was poor. Get up and try again.”

  ---

  Changwhangcrishcurshchung whirlwhirl chok. “Your grip needs work. Go get your Sword.” Which had impaled the back of his throne when she struck it from his hand.

  ----

  Chingwhoop. “Your anger gets the better of you.” He stared down the blade inserted into his mouth at her, frozen in mid-swing, her pale violet eyes promising death if he tried anything stupid. “Try again.”

  ---

  Chongdingwrangwhisk woosh, WAAGH thud. “You are overextending and have problems with your balance. Do you deliberately sabotage your high guard stance?”

  ---

  Bingdingrooong HUFFF UGH thud. “You aren’t strong enough to beat down my parry. When you get your wind back, try again.”

  ------

  Changchangchangchangchang WAAGH ugh, thud. I carefully kept my face very straight as the shocked Plurinam stumbled and fell back on the steps of his throne, clutching at the stump of his overlong Blade, four sections of it now fallen to the ground and embedded in the floor, bright fiery bronze sticking out of the black magma next to fiery cracks.

  “The worksmanship of your Sword is inferior. You need to get a new one,” Kris said in exactly the same dry, dismissive tone she’d used on all her other dozen comments, while the Plurinam stared at her in gaping disbelief. “Next time, get a decent metal. Only pretentious fools make a Sword out of eshbronze. What are you, an ifrit?”

  His shock turned to anger and humiliation at the scolding, especially against the descendants of his racial enemies. But he took another look at Quaver as the Blade shrank and was sheathed behind her, and she looked down at him in both physical and threatening terms. “If you need further convincing, it will be with fists,” she informed him coldly, and flexed her fingers.

  They sounded like rocks cracking, and Golden lines drew over her black nails and reached out, basically tripling the apparent size of her hands. She closed them, and the light-shadows of the fists were bigger than his own.

  “I am convinced of the validity of the boon given to the servants of the Lost Light!” he admitted hastily, holding up his hands. He gave the ornate hilt in his hand a disappointed look, then threw it negligently away. As he rose, he waved to a Hellfire standing carefully back from the fight, blue-white and burning hotly. “Render unto them the tithe of the volcano!” he ordered the Elemental, who bowed and swept tendril-like hands out, depositing ten bluish-white containers of liquid Flame Essences before him.

  Zeks reached out and zipped them into the hands of the Roaches, myself, and Lord Mick. The Plurinam looked startled when neither Kris nor Briggs accepted one, but they did not explain themselves.

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