Chapter 3: The Weight Of Life (III)

Day turns to night and back again, the den of thieves stirs, and groups of cloaked men wearing the color of sand leave and come back in orderly rotations.

Watching this from a distance is Nur, while absentmindedly drawing symbols on the ground. A black mass in the sky catches his attention, several small dots fly over and head into the camp from above.

Narrowing his eyes and focusing, he sees them head towards the Teacher who is speaking to a large group of people who are listening with their full attention and some even scrawling down symbols onto wood or stone.

The blur, three ravens, land on the Teacher’s shoulders and he pets them idly but the moment he does he freezes for an almost imperceptible moment.

With a smile he stands up and waves over a few tall and oddly clean looking fellows, whispering into their ears for a moment. He then locks eyes with the far away Nur, with a gaze that turns his heart to stone.

The Teacher then dissipates, appearing momentarily in flashes as he approaches and within seconds is standing above Nur.

“Come, we have a hunt” he announces.

..

Sitting at the forefront of a multitude of people, the Teacher looks upon everyone in front of him carefully. Some riding Camels but most are not, though everyone is armed and are shifting around.

“You are the fighters, the warriors, the sacrifices for our establishment. Some of you have been here with us for years while others have only recently joined. You may be wondering why I have gathered all of us and not just a small party like normal.”

The Teacher smiles, his light robes giving him an almost homely feel but his next words are anything but.

“We are surrounded”

Gasps ring out, but a low growl from Nur silences the murmurs of foreign tongue the moment they begin.

“Well not yet but we will be. Our normal scouts will no doubt be returning to warn us or be dead by now but my friends in the sky have forewarned me and so we have a chance to react.”

A raven peaks out from his inner clothes to give a quick caw and then returns.

“I have left my own personal chosen to lead your families in the only direction where they have a chance to escape. They will meet resistance but our actions will allow them to slip by.”

The Teacher gaze hardens, and he reaches forward with an open palm.

“Die for your families”

No one speaks for a moment but Nur steps forward and turns towards the crowd. He puts on a fiendish smile and walks along the line of men, eyeing each and everyone one of them closely.

“Kill”

He laughs.

They laugh.

And off they go.

---

Arrayed in a formation with the riders at the wings, those without in the center led by Nur and the Teacher on his camel at the front eyeing the distance with his spyglass.

He notes the equal formation opposing his own and sighs, though his breath catches when he sees a large black carriage slowly approaching alongside the enemy.

A small nervous laugh escapes him and he puts down his saber he had picked up and tied it to his camel. Turning around and heading for Nur he stops next to him and says,

“Change of plan. The enemy is numerous, but these are just conscripts. They have the weapons but they will tire and run the moment they begin to lose.”

His voice rolls over everyone present, whistles and cheers erupt for a moment but are silenced with a wave of his hand.

“Nevertheless! Do not get cocky and make mistakes, I will direct the battle with precision while Nur watches so he can learn. I will also have my ravens scout to make sure that we can leave and respond in case they have a true force hidden that may threaten your families.”

He then picks up a bow and arrow and strings it, turning slightly to face the formation that is opposing them and eyes a figure that split from the group and tries to approach them.

Without even a pause in breath, the Teacher presents his bow and shoots the rider approaching dead on the spot. Headshot.

The then whistles and on both wings two ravens descend and are caught by the forward most rider on each side, whilst his own raven descends onto his camel in front of him.

He holds it and closes his eyes, breathing deeply in and out without worry or care.

“Go”

The bandits, no, warriors, surged forth. They ran past Nur and the Teacher like a tide gushing forth and let loose laughter of glee, madness, and fear.

The wings followed suit, drawing arcs around the left and right flank as they too prepared ranged weaponry for the initial skirmish.

Nur stood next to the Teacher, irritation clear as day on his face and his fists strained, and said “Will they die?”

He uneasily looked towards the black carriage in the distance that never ceased slowly moving towards the center. Though nothing impeded it even those on camel back ignored it and rode around it, not even sparing it a glance.

Getting no answer Nur growled and said,

“My home, dead. My pack, dead. My mother, eaten. This, is the same. Right?”

“Correct,” began the Teacher though he did not move nor open his eyes, “They will all die. Watch, behold, the final moments of man. You will see many people die, Nur. What is important, however, is how you react to these deaths. The first thing you must conquer in life is yourself.”

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The battle entered its opening phase. Arrows were traded, javelins tossed, and the lines inched forward. On the flanks the riders swarmed one another, constantly making passes and harassing one another. Though every time some infantry broke off to try and trap the slow-moving camels they would evade with ease as if they could see into the future.

Then the lines clashed and the membrane between reality and despair blurred. A human meat grinder. Pushed up against those from behind those at the front had no choice but to hack and slash with all their might, each one they killed a small lifeline that they may survive.

Nur looked upon this and his body tensed more and more. His foot shook and he put pressure on the balls of his heels.

“Stay and watch. Witness us, Nur. Take what you feel and hold it back as long as you can, remember what I have taught you.”

The black carriage moved through the center of the battle though nothing came close to it or even noticed it. Slowly, ever so slowly it ambled forth and split the mass of human bodies into two as it underwent its unopposed journey.

Then, arriving in front the friendly forces it shuddered and paused. The dark curtains on its side slowly opened, and out came a pale man wearing bright purple robes and adorned with jewelry.

He took no notice of the screaming and screeching men that surrounded him on all sides and simply stared at the Teacher, giving him a kind smile.

From his hand he dangled a peace of metal in front of himself, presenting it towards the Teacher. It was an old and rusted piece but painted on it in a black shimmering ichor was an Eye staring forth.

“I feel sick” said Nur.

The Teacher laughed and opened his eyes, letting the raven fly away and unstrapped a bundle of cloth from his side.

“Remember to practice your writing before you go to bed. Remember all our lessons and of course, do whatever you can to survive Nur.”

Unwrapping the cloth, a pristine spear made of a grainy wood and pristine metal spearhead is revealed. A red cloth is tied around it, with a wing of ravens in mid-flight decorated on it.

The air around the bejeweled man began to visibly haze over and a yellow glow sparked within his eyes as he floated forward and slightly above the heads of everyone. A stray bit of blood was sent flying from the front however, and got on the man’s otherwise pristine shirt.

He frowned at this and looked below him for the first time, displeasure clear on his face.

From his lips, a single word was said.

“Die”

A yellow haze appeared above each and every fighter present in the center of the battlefield and from it a spike shot forth and impaled everyone.

And so they died.

The man looked around for a moment, his eyes checking for signs of life. Finding none he nods and begins walking towards the Teacher.

A whimper sounded from Nur his mind reeling from the sudden indiscriminate massacre. The Teacher frowned for the first time, a trace of anger appearing on his visage and his gaze hardening to steel.

“Republican mutt” mumbled the Teacher.

Then he brandished his spear and spoke a vow,

“On wings of death, I ride”

His camel’s eyes dilated completely and the wind around him began to furiously churn despite there being no wind. Breaking straight into an outright gallop the camel charged and ran forward, leaving a barrage of displaced wind in its wake.

The sole surviving human in the distance shook his head and flicked his fingers twice. In response dozens of hazes spawned from nothing in front of the Teacher and spewed forth golden spikes once again.

Stabbing forward again and again, the Teacher shattered several of the spikes in his path and dodged the rest. His steed not caring for any physical limitations as it curved and turned on the spot with powerful gallops.

“Not bad for a deserter” stated the man in a voice that was neither quiet nor loud but reverberated throughout the entire field of battle, nevertheless.

He then pushed forth both his palms and slowly closed them together. Grasping his hands forth, he showed the first signs of visible strain as his body shook slightly.

“Descend” he commanded, and the world listened.

A pillar of golden light erupted forth from his hand and created a massive ethereal sword made of a rainbow crystal that twinkled under the sun.

The shadow it cast darkened the ground below it and it shot forth towards the Teacher, turning every corpse it passed into mush without even making direct contact.

The Teacher did not avoid it and met it head on. He presented his spear forward with both hands and the two forces collided with such force that a shockwave clapped in Nur’s ears and his body was pushed back slightly.

The spear persisted as he pushed forward, ignoring the blood that began to leak through the Teachers very skin as he silently persisted. The sword crumbled from the tip down, cracking and creaking in melody despite it all.

Reaching the end of the sword, with one loud shout the Teacher jutted forward his spear and smashed what remained.

His charge complete, his camel died on the spot and fell to the ground throwing the Teacher along with it.

Landing right in front of the floating man, he stood up shakily despite the blood now pouring from his every orifice.

He gazed upon the man in front of him and reached into his pocket and pulled out a pile of sand, he threw it on the face of the man and cackled wildly.

His arm fell off.

Sighing he turned around towards Nur and gave smile and placed his arm over his heart and looked deep into his disciple’s eyes. His leg fell off.

 And then finally, his head followed.

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