Excerpts
From Isinda: Fallen Dagger
“Kneel before Agoge’s Hand, warriors, and let the flame of our lord be with you,” Orthal beckoned. From the shadow emerged King Kalo. The audience went into a frenzy as the King settled within a gorgeous viewing chamber of solid gold. He sat beside a gold-adorned woman of wondrous beauty with a long, slender frame. She was obviously his queen. To his other side was a zealous man, just a bit older than Zano, with fiery eyes. He was the apparent heir to the throne of the Arikarnon. By the stretch of the king’s palms, the crowd grew silent, and Yuru kneeled, placing his weapon on the ground. Zano followed, stabbing his dagger into the sand, and then rubbed the loose particles between his rough hands. He gazed at the king intensely until a nod signaled them to rise.
“Stand before your gates warriors and Agoge be with you!” Orthal yelled from beside the Lord of the Desert. The mass remained silent as the contestants stood at either side of the arena. “You all know of the fires that lay dormant beneath this arena. My people! Today I bring you… The Warren of Flame!” he shouted to the crowd’s undulating delight.
The arena seemed to be rocking as the sound of chains and gears crackled. Patches of the ground began to fold down in a puff of dust, and after a few minutes, the flooring of the Heart of Agoge was reduced to a maze of narrow pathways surrounded by black pits. Within the pits were roaring infernos that would consume any who fell from the treacherous walkways above. The flames flared up like the ravenous tongues of elemental beasts.
The ground had just transformed before Zano’s very eyes into a labyrinth that hungered for his life. The sound of the audience was like nothing he had ever heard, too boisterous to drown out. Peering across the way, through the hazy smog of gray smoke, he saw Yuru stringing an arrow into his bow.
“Warriors…fight!”
With a pluck, an arrow was sent whizzing toward Zano’s head. He raised his shield and deflected it, but the impact threw him off balance. Losing his sure footing, he leapt off of one foot across a blazing hot gap and landed on another sandy path. He gripped his dagger and sprinted toward his enemy. The turns were sharp and slippery, wrapping like snakes of sand and stone across the fire-donned ring. Another arrow sped toward him, but this time he was prepared with his shield and was unfazed by its shock.
Dexterous feet had brought Zano halfway to his prey, but now there was a wide pit without a crossover before him. Following a deep exhale, he dove across the break with an arrow just grazing his leg, peeling off a scale as he rolled to safety. Just as he gained his footing, another projectile zipped through his hair. Out of instinct, he recoiled, but he slipped off of the path, catching the edge with one hand. Flames seared the soles of his feet as Yuru shifted his position in order to gain an advantageous shot. Swinging upwards with his dagger, Zano jabbed the ground and heaved himself up. His head spun until he found Yuru, but another arrow sent him sprawling onto his back. The shot pricked the tip of his nose, and the proximity of his death exhilarated him as well as the crowd, who groaned. Finally, Zano found his footing and continued his advance. The sixth arrow zoomed futilely into his shield as he rounded another corner. Rage and instinct fueled him as he bounded hurriedly down the meandering paths.
Yuru sent an additional arrow speeding at his opponent, but the Blood Scaldor betrayed the will of the crowd with a twirling evasion. Then, fate brought the two of them standing face to face, an inferno between them. Zano’s eyes smoldered, cold and heartless as a snake that had cornered its prey. Yuru smirked and strung a projectile through his bow, then pulled back the string. At the sound of a high-pitched snap, the arrow zoomed at the Blood Scaldor, but it was met with a crash. It splintered in pieces onto the ground, and Zano effortlessly hurdled the gap. The Arikarnon tossed his bow away and unsheathed his poignard, meeting the vicious slash of his enemy with a parry. The opponents brandished their weapons skillfully. Clashing iron flashed, and blades whirled atop cautious feet. One wrong step could lead to a fatal plummet into an agonizing abyss.
Seeing he was outmatched in close combat, Yuru fled down a path, and Zano hastily gave chase. The Arikarnon’s nimbleness was unfaltering. With long strides, he easily gained a distance from his enemy and halted, but his plan of exhausting Zano, whose youth and exhilaration were peerless, failed. Yuru slashed high, and the Blood Scaldor tackled him to the ground. A cloud of dust blinded them as they thrashed violently. They writhed and punched through the sand, coming dangerously near the perilous edge as each struggled to pin down the other’s armed hand.
After minutes of toiling, a fortuitous blow to Zano’s hand sent the stone dagger skidding across the sand, out of reach. In rage, he struck Yuru in the head with his shield and lunged over him. The Arikarnon wriggled his body as the Blood Scaldor plucked an arrow from the quiver on his back in mid-air. He slid across the loose ground until finally finding his footing. Yuru staggered toward his adversary and thrust at him. As if able to anticipate his actions, Zano grabbed the assailing arm and fell backward, driving upwards with the arrow. He rolled to get on top of the Arikarnon, who collapsed to the ground in anguish and then twisted his body around.
As Yuru came to face the sky, his poignard propelled toward Zano’s throat, but fortunately, Zano caught his enemy’s arm and tore the weapon from his clutch. With callous eyes, he sunk the blade into Yuru’s heart, and the tumultuous crowd was hushed. Blood squirted from the gashes as the Arikarnon struggled for his next breath. His lips whimpered as life fled his being and ice traced his veins.
Zano rose to his weary feet with his chest heaving. His mighty frame hulked over the corpse beneath him as he shed the shield on his forearm. His hair flapped wildly, the sapphire strands glistening under the sun. In this sublime moment, he was immortal, a legend of his own making. And then, suddenly through the reigning silence, a single clap prevailed. The powerful hands of Lord Kalo smashed together, until another followed, then another, and another after that. Zano lifted his arms and roared toward the serene sky. His voice echoed like a beast vastly larger then he in signal to the audience. They erupted in appraisal for his triumph, and as deafening as the ruckus was, it was as harmonious to him as the notes of a flute. The cheers poured on him as though he were a conquering hero, and it was like nothing he had ever dreamed of. Pillars of flame spouted on either side, recognizing him as the victor. The fire was that of Agoge, and in essence, he was proclaimed victorious by the grand God of Fire himself.
