“I cannot save you.” Luyna admitted defeat as the blood continued to flow from her brother’s mortal wound.
Orion’s magic was based in the healing arts while Luyna’s had always taken on a darker purpose. To reverse the damage done to her brother was beyond Luyna’s capabilities.
“If you cannot save me, at least save yourself,” Orion wished.
“No, you cannot die,” Luyna fought. “Not while I hold time in the palm of my hand.”
Damselfly felt a confliction of emotions, knowing that the sorceress’s words might be true. Perhaps Orion would not die, yet his body could not reconcile such a devastating injury and all but the faintest sign of life had already left his stricken body.
“Please, Luyna, restart time and end his suffering,” Damselfly begged.
“No, I have come too far and sacrificed too much,” Luyna refused.
“My daughters will rule Fable after me and you, Princess Damselfly, will secure my victory.”
Chapter 19 End of Times
Delridden had fought Tyten all around the castle as the soldiers slowly retreated before the zealous rebellion. Tyten knew he was the superior swordsman; several bleeding wounds on Delridden’s torso supported this theory, and yet his opponent would not stop coming.
“Yield and I will not kill you,” Tyten offered.
“You have not beaten me yet,” Delridden exclaimed, dodging another lethal thrust.
They found themselves on a high level of the castle, meaning Tyten could no longer retreat without risking the uprising reaching Luyna and the royal apartments. The Captain of the Guard considered fleeing the duel, though his heavy armour would make it impossible to outrun his relentless opponent.
Then an idea struck Tyten. He manoeuvred the conflict down a narrow, dark corridor, skillfully keeping his adversary at arm’s length. When they reached a dead end, Delridden thought he had his prey cornered until Tyten kicked in a wooden door and disappeared down a narrow spiral staircase. Without hesitation Delridden followed, unwilling to let his enemy escape. In his haste he almost slipped on a broken stair and had to grab hold of the stone wall to stop his descent. With his heart pounding against his chest, Delridden continued his pursuit, although Tyten had opened up a small lead. The staircase ended so abruptly that Delridden jammed his knee painfully.
It was pitch-black and only the sound of scurrying rats broke the ominous silence.
“I thought you were a man of honour,” Delridden shouted into the darkness. “I guess you are just another coward.”
A blazing torch appeared up ahead, throwing a halo of light in what seemed like a cavernous room. Tyten’s bronze armour and golden hair shimmered in the firelight, making him look angelic.
“I am right here,” the Captain of the Guard announced.
Delridden took a moment to recover his composure before striding forward to meet his challenger. It was clear that Tyten was an expert swordsman, perhaps the best he had ever faced, and yet he was not scared.
“You should reconsider who you are fighting for,” Delridden posed.
“I am the king’s man,” Tyten vowed.
“Really, because I have not seen the king give any orders since I arrived here,” Delridden questioned.
“There is a chain of command. As a soldier you should understand that,” Tyten replied.
“It only takes one weak link for the chain to break,” Delridden warned.
As Delridden came within reach, Tyten whipped the flaming torch at him like a cudgel which only just missed his shoulder by inches and was close enough for him to feel the heat. Delridden was forced backwards, avoiding the torch and Tyten’s sword, which he swung alternatively. In desperation Delridden stood his ground, ducking at the last second as the torch passed over his head and driving upward with his own blade. Tyten reacted quickly, deflecting the blow with his own sword at the last moment. Delridden’s point drew blood just under the soldier’s right armpit where the armour was not as strong. Fueled by this small victory, Delridden pushed Tyten back, the captain showing doubt in his blue eyes for the first time since they had locked swords. Unfortunately, Delridden became over confident in his attack, allowing Tyten to lure him in with a well-disguised feint before countering with a flick of his wrist that left a bloody gash across Delridden’s collar bone. Seizing the moment, Tyten placed the burning torch into a wall bracket, allowing him to use both hands on the sword, which he now did. Each blow was delivered with greater force, shaking Delridden’s bones as he blocked first one and then another.
“You cannot keep this up much longer,” Tyten grinned.
Delridden knew the truth in his opponent’s words and sought to take him off his feet. Delivering a sharp kick to his adversary’s knee, Delridden was stunned to find Tyten’s armour absorb the blow and leave him open to a vicious backhanded slash that opened a long line across his chest that dropped him to the ground.
“This armour was made by Bakka himself for the winner of a tournament long forgotten, only now it has found a worthy suitor,” Tyten bragged.
Delridden attempted to rise though Tyten was quicker, aiming a fatal blow at his head. Delridden managed to block the strike at the very last moment, only to have his blade wrenched from his grip. Disarmed, Delridden was completely vulnerable so he charged forward, taking Tyten by surprise, and, grabbing him around the waist, pushed with all his might. Tyten was trying to thrust his sword into Delridden’s exposed back, though he found his enemy’s momentum dragging him backwards rapidly until they slammed into the wall. The torch was dislodged from its’ bracket where it fell to the floor, casting strange shadows as the two warriors battled for survival. Finally, Tyten regained his balance and threw his aggressor to the ground where Delridden’s face rested only inches away from the burning torch.
“You have proved a
