Chapter 89 – Unsettling Revelations (2)

Stood under the crimson light of her shining eyes, Midhir gulped. His heartbeat fastened, and his chest tightened as he waited for her to speak.

A moment passed in nerve wrecking silence. Cait breathed out, then finally spoke. “Did something happen to your left eye?”

Midhir hesitated. “I think so.” He replied. The searing pain was still fresh in his mind from when the Old One struck his eye. Yet he wasn’t sure whether that really happened, or whether if it was just a dream, or a hallucination. Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the couch. “There’s a lot Lord Orlein, or my friends don’t quite know.”

“Clearly.” Cait stepped closer. “Look at me, I need to take a closer look at this.” Holding his chin, she lifted his face up, and pushed his hair aside.

Her lips were thin line, and her eyebrows were furrowed. Lines appeared on her forehead as she scowled. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected whatever it was she saw. Moments once again passed in silence before she finally stepped back. “I can’t quite tell what’s wrong with your eye.” She sighed. “I’ve never seen this before, but what it looks like is…” she hesitated for a split second. “It looks like a tear in the veil.”

Her words didn’t come as a surprise. They just confirmed his suspicions. Those dreams and hallucinations weren’t what he hoped they were. They were real, and what he told Lonan in a moment of annoyance and exhaustion wasn’t a lie – one of the Old Gods had stirred awake.

“There’s a lot you need to know.” He looked at Cait. “A lot that I told Mother, and even more that happened after I spoke with her.”

Cait left his room shortly after he finished retelling everything to find a sending mirror, claiming she needed to report all this to the Empress.

He couldn’t help but feel a little lonely once he was once again alone in his chambers. It was a shame their meeting had to be spoiled by disturbing truth but delaying it would have only made things worse.

After pacing the room for a while, he snatched the sword Aodan had given him and made his way towards the training ground behind the mansion, overlooking the Old Growth, though he couldn’t see beyond the wall – the veil of power he had put around the city blocked the view.

With a deep breath, he unsheathed his sword, grasped its hilt with both hands, and readied himself.

“That’s a sloppy stance.”

The deep voice startled him. His head jerked towards its source as he spun around to see its owner.

Lord Aulorn stood not too far from where he was, with his back leaning against a tree. Since when was he stood there? How had Midhir not noticed him?

“Lord Aulorn!” He quickly spoke up with a bow. “My apologies, I didn’t notice you.”

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“That was by design.” Lord Aulorn stepped away from the tree. “You are Midhir, aren’t you? I read the report sent by the Empress.” He pointed towards his bandaged hand. “You can’t fight properly with a wound like that.”

Midhir opened, then clenched his fingers. It didn’t feel as sore as before. It was easier to move and hurt a lot less when he clenched his fist. “It’s about healed, sir. I wanted to get some practice in.” Why was he here? He would have expected him to speak with Willow.

“Good to hear,” the man walked past him, closer to the edge of the hill. “It seems practice would do good for you.”

Midhir tightened his jaw. “Apologies for disturbing you, sir. I’ll-“

“You will explain exactly what happened beneath Bareon,” the man cut him off. His fiery gaze turned to meet Midhir’s. “Lord Orlein’s retelling of the events, and that of his son’s was rather lacking. This power,” he gestured towards the protective barrier. “Isn’t something any normal person can control.”

“The power I used to create the barrier had been gathering at the altar beneath the city for a long time. Simply wishing for the barrier was enough to make it happen,” he shrugged. “I wish I could tell you more, sir.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps so.” He pondered for a moment before a faint smile appeared on his lips. “You wanted to practice, did you not? Then ready your weapon.” As he spoke, he raised his hand. A sword appeared in the air, which he swiftly caught.

A myriad of small gems were embedded into the middle of the blade of the longsword. He couldn’t count how many even if he wanted to. The blade itself seemingly caught the light of the barrier, glowing a faint blue underneath its shine.

Midhir felt his heartbeat fasten. “It would be an honour, sir.” His hands itched in anticipation.

“Only if you put up a good enough fight.” Lord Aulorn spoke before saluting him. “Start!” He spat.

Midhir didn’t even get the chance to properly raise his blade before it was swatted out of his hands, and he felt cold metal put up against his throat.

“Slow,” Lord Aulorn stepped back. “Too slow to beat Willow in a duel. Are you not taking this seriously? Should I be offended?”

Midhir gulped as a cold shiver ran down his spine. “I was taken by surprise, apologies-“

“And had it been a true enemy, you would have been dead – or worse.” He pointed at the sword on the ground with the tip of his own blade. “Again.”

Snatching the sword off the ground, he readied himself. The blade was heavier than his old sword, and its balance felt somewhat off, like the tip was too heavy, and the middle too light. It made him feel like it could snap at any moment.

Once again, Lord Aulorn announced the start of the duel.

He raised his blade just in time to meet the Lord’s slash. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed across the hills as he slid back. The strength behind Lord Aulorn’s strike numbed his arm for a split second. A second slash followed the first, then a third, and a fourth.

He was relentless, there wasn’t a single pause, or a moment of hesitation in his attacks. He was too fast to meet head on, too strong to fight back, and too experienced to make a mistake. Each second felt like an eternity as Midhir could only defend against the enforcer’s attacks.

As exhaustion began to set in, he raised his sword to block an overhead strike. The sound of metal hitting metal rang in his head, but before he could prepare for the next strike, the flat side of the Lord’s blade struck his fingers, swatting his sword away.

His instincts screamed at him to evade, and so he did, throwing himself to the side as the longsword struck the ground where he stood a moment ago, leaving a mark on the slabs.

Without thinking, he reached for his earring. The sword-spear appeared in the air just in time for him to snatch it and block the next strike with it.

He stood no chance against Lord Aulorn. But that was no reason not to at least try.

Silver flames engulfed the blade of his weapon as he leapt back. He felt a dull pain in his eye as his gaze met with that of the Enforcer. A moment passed where neither of them moved.

Then, Midhir lunged forward, leaving behind him a trail of white flames.