The Arkanist

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Rift Between

Chapter Twenty-Two: A Rift Between 

Viven grabbed Amon and Jaxhen and threw them out the door, a mad rage broiling in his eyes, hands clenching into tight fists, jaw clamped. I watched; horrified, mesmerized, amongst the gathered company outside the doors of the inn.

"We had beds," Viven started. "Fur mattresses under us and a roof above us and four walls around us and a fire before us. We had food, warmth, drink." The two Avyishmen looked up into Viven's eyes, glistening red in the moonlight. "I don't understand."

Nobody said anything. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Viven's voice deepened, broadened. "Make me understand."

Nothing.

"Make me understand!" Viven shouted now, thunder in his words, his face a contorted demon. His teeth glowed white and his nostrils flared and his arms rose like great waves out at sea.

Amon started spitting something about Jaxhen, simply just reacting to fear, but Viven broke him off with the sharpness of cold steel. "We could have stayed, you know. All of us, except you two. I talked to the innkeep before he threw us out. He was willing to let us stay, let the eleven of us stay behind while he threw you out here. But I said no. You are mine to protect, under my order, a brother in my company. Now, make me understand."

"I don't," said Jaxhen, small and weak and infantile.

"Make me fucking understand!"

Silence. Viven cursed something under his breath, dropped his arms, and his head, paced, laughed.

"You two look pathetic," he said. "You look like two children who never grew up, two children who never settled their scores back at your stupid little school. You can hardly even grow any hair on your face."

"Leave them," said Maert, throwing daggers with his eyes toward the two Avryishmen. "Leave the two fuckers and lets get back inside."

"We're not leaving them," said Viven.

"And I'm not sleeping out in the cold when I could be sleeping in a bed because of these two," Maert spat. It started to rain again, then, a drizzle. Maert smiled so hard it looked as though it hurt. "Rain." Then, he ran at the two brothers, ripping his sword out of its leather scabbard. As he brought down the steel in a screaming silver arch, before it fell, Dagos leapt before the blow and knocked the sword form the mercenary's hands. The goldsword held his blade to Maert's throat, its hilt gleaming with gold.

"I'll kill you," grumbled Maert as he bit his lip. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you , I'll kill you."

"You're just as much a child as they are," shouted Viven, approaching the mercenary. "Is this how you deal with matters on the road? You kill everyone you don't like? Well, I don't like you very much, to be honest." Then, as slick as lying, Viven produced a dark dagger from his waist and held it two the mercenary's chest, ushering Dagos aside, who slipped back into the shadows of the night.

"We can have it your way, or we can have it my way," said Viven. "I can kill you, stick this blade between your ribcage and through your beating heart, or I can let you live and we shall continue on our journey with thirteen instead of eleven. What do you say?"

Maert said nothing, only dropped his head.

"That's what I thought," said Viven, sheathing the dagger and returning Maert's fallen sword to its sheathe. Then he turned on Amon and Jax once more. "I'm not finished with you. You have yet to make me understand why we are sitting out here, ready to kill each other, rather than being inside that inn, with a fire to our faces and a mug of ale in our hands. Make me understand."