Jaiko had snuck away before dawn to have a day in contemplation and composure for himself. He sat alone at the beach's edge, staring out into the sea. The last of the day's light stretched over the short peaks guarding the cove; the air warm and inviting.
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It was the day before the conclave and his twentieth natal day. twelve years of training culminating in one event. His heart pounded at the thought of it.
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Jaiko's muscles screamed from soreness, with every move, his knuckles were raw and bruised. Often he questioned his devotion to the order; something only he had the privilege to do; brutality in the training usually left very few standing by the end. He never surrendered to pain, burning determination from his stomach and heart forced him forward. He had something to prove; he would be a champion or nothing.
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The sunlight grew dimmer. Collecting his belongings; belt, sai, and buskins, Jaiko contemplated his actions. Neglection of his day's responsibilities and training weighed on his conscience, and the thought of the impending lecture from his mother forced its way through his peace, allowing his preemptive frustration to sneak out. Standing, he let out a sigh, he wanted to forget his life and noble duties just for a few moments, and he had, even if there would be consequences.
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The walk back through the thicket usually seemed shorter than the approach, but today it was long.
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The humidity took its toll, beads of sweat pooled and ran down his cheeks. He was periodically blessed by the touch of a cooling breeze, that crept underneath his black tunic and eased the hot skin beneath.
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As Jaiko reached the main road a twinge of surprise ran over him; it was dead well before it should have been. He cursed himself, What kind of fucking idiot could lose his time like this, he thought. Perhaps I had fallen asleep?
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He followed the road for some time without a wagon or rider in sight. The light dimmed and voices of the jungle quieted, birds calling from the rainforest canopy hushed themselves and the monkeys no longer hooted or howled.
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Have I missed all the merchants? He wondered. Everyone seems to have gone home early. Even Adrian and that rude, hippo of a wife he brings around. Conmen and merchants normally peddled this road from light until dark, keeping it busy with soldiers and peasants in need of goods, spices and empty purses.
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This was the first that he walked this road and saw no other people. He was alone as the darkness settled around him.
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The sun has just set, this road is never empty this early.
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His path lit only by starlight and the moon as the night's creatures began their songs. His heart beat hard in anticipation. He trained his eyes for movement and sharpened his ears for sounds past the crickets chirping. Every hoot and rustle sent a shiver of goose-flesh down his spine.
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His hands instinctively moved to his sides, his fingers curled around the soft leather of his twin sai. A stream of subtle moonlight chased across the steel as he silently drew them from his belt. The exotic, two-pronged weapons reached from his fingertips to just past his elbow. The feeling of the cool steel pressing against his forearm contrasted the humidity calming the heat of fear.
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Jaiko was not scared of the dark, and how could he be? I will be twenty come the morning, a man full-grown, he reassured himself. He stood a head taller than most men and was much bulkier. Tall, muscular and nimble, he believed himself a tiger and the sai, his fangs. He continued down the road reasoning with himself that he wasn't far from home and the familiar scent of his mother's lavender fields agreed with him.
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A mass in the path stopped him in his tracks, shrouded in the darkness he couldn't make sense of what it was. He gripped his sai tightly and pressed forward, careful to control his breathing. Creeping dread and doubt slithered up his spine and found their way into the back of his mind, he felt wrong and unsafe. Starlight unveiled a body lying face down in the path. A man. he thought. Too large to be a woman.
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Jaiko stalked forward silent and careful. He contemplated moving through the treeline around the body. Each step, a drop of oil adding to the inferno of dread filling in his chest.
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He was closer now, only twelve or so paces away. Overwhelming fear told him to turn back, but he couldn't. He was a Titan, trained for combat since childhood; it would be shameful to surrender to fear. Alone and in the dark he approached the body.
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Clothes were strewn about and large splatters of blood stained the earth.
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The body is clothed, he thought. How much blood does one man have?
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Jaiko, close enough to see the makings of a hoax, examined his surroundings.
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Of all the people that walk this road, none helped him? I don't believe it.
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His dread now burned fully in his mind. This is too perfect, it's not right.
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The certainty of silence set in and he could feel it in his bones. He looked around and saw only the swaying of ramon and ipe trees in the wind. He listened and heard nothing, neither owls hooting nor crickets chirping like before, only the sound of his heart and a lonely wind.
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Jaiko's world slowed around him even the wind whispering in his ears seemed delayed, but his heart beat faster and harder than he had ever known. He watched in amazement and horror as the man rose to his feet and turned to face him a shrouded, featureless white mask placed where a face should have been. Jaiko knew the stranger was staring into his eyes, it frightened him that he couldn't stare back.
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Silent as the nights' air the stranger took a step towards him, revealing a dirk. Jaiko's body twitched pleading with him to attack but he knew better than to be so brash.
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One man. No stance. Small blade.
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A rustling came from the brush and thicket, dark forms moved out from behind the trees. Starlight revealed other masked strangers, moving into an enveloping circle around him. Jaiko counted four men but only the man on the path advanced. The others watched in silence as if to see what he would do.
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Four men. No stance. Cannot get behind me.
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The stranger took another step forward. Jaiko narrowed his eyes. The sai left his fingertips with such force he almost couldn't see its spin through the air.
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Thunk.
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The connection was louder than he expected, a thump and the crack of steel meeting viscera and bone. The stranger staggered back and Jaiko barreled forward, his mind locked in tactic and survival. The others scrambled to catch him, they were sluggish as if caught off guard. The man desperately grasped at the sai protruding from his sternum. Jaiko grabbed the sai then gave a forceful yank and kicked the man to the ground. He was ready now, fangs in hand.
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The masked men moved to flank his sides. Jaiko met them moving backward keeping his assailants in view. They funneled themselves into a line trying to keep pace with his retreat. Their dirks cut through the air in wide, undisciplined swings. Jaiko blocked poorly timed thrusts and slashes; he parried with ease and without thought. The strangers were vastly inferior fighters, they lacked technique and it was exploitable.
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Kill. I have to kill.
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Jaiko's fear was engulfed by a primal rage pulsing through his veins. The first stab felt hollow almost as if he hadn't truly done it. The second thrust was different, personal, it held weight. He could feel himself taking life. He let go of the constraints of mercy and humanity, giving himself to brutality and it was then that he knew what he had to do.
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Jaiko ripped them down one by one. Every counter or parry from one of Jaiko's hands was accompanied by the piercing thud of his sai moving meat and bone out of its way from the other.
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A thrust from a dirk sailed past his head with the aid of a quick reaction from Jaiko. The Titan caught the man's arm in the guard of his sai and kicked his knee in backward. Before the man could open his mouth to scream in pain the hard steel sai passed through the soft under of his chin.
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Jaiko pressed forward and they could not contain him, he was a flurry of steel and flesh. He stabbed and kicked and killed, and the strangers were powerless to stop his onslaught. His arms and legs burned and begged but did not waver, he was not finished. His sai flew through the air forcing its way into a new home in the skull of an assailant as he tried to flee.
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The last man dropped to his knees and threw his dirk aside. The fight was over well before you surrendered, Jaiko thought.
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The stranger placed his hands flat on the dirt path and lowered his gaze. Three men lay on the ground, two still, in death, the third on his back crying out and bleeding from the punctures and rips Jaiko left in his body. He stood triumphantly over the man, his tunic wet with warm crimson not his own. Jaiko's nose filled with the metallic scent of enemy blood and fresh death, it crept to the back of his throat then to his tongue, he could taste his victory. A taste he almost liked.
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Jaiko's rage still coursed through his veins. "Remove your mask!"
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The stranger cowered for a moment before complying. He took off his mask revealing light brown skin and black curly hair. "P...Please...I..." his voice quivering.
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The man's complexion reminded Jaiko of his own, the same clay skin tone, full lips, and a very familiar southern Gresani accent. Even his hair sported a similar kinky-curl texture. Jaiko could not see his face in great detail, but he knew that he was Gresani though a bit darker than the average citizen, not unlike himself. Jaiko's rage left his body and he loosened his grip on the sai, an impatient curiosity rushed to his mind.
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"Why attack me, were you lot ignorant of who I am?" The man quivered and cringed at the ferocity in Jaiko's voice.
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The stranger kept his eyes down, his voice was weak and submissive. "I beg mercy; we are all tempted to do dark things in these times, my lord." He glanced up his eyes meeting with Jaiko's.
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My lord? So he is aware of who I am. Jaiko examined one of his sai, dripping with blood.
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Jaiko pressed the tip of sai to his neck, the stranger winced but he did not move. A slight agitation returned to Jaiko's voice. "Who sent you? How did you know where I was?"
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The man gave no response.
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You dare!?
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Jaiko drove his sai hard into the back of the man's hand. Bone and tendon separated and he was pinned to the earth. A cry of pure agony and suffering was his only reply. Jaiko twisted and pulled the sai backward, flesh tore and tendons popped, the small hole now a gnarly gash.
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Fuck, what am I doing? No. They attacked me, I need answers.
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He had been trained to kill, and torture if necessary, since childhood but all his training still could not have prepared him for the true shock of the act itself. The stranger screamed, cried and begged, the sounds of his torture made Jaiko sick, but this needed to be done.
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"Make this easier for yourself," Jaiko said. "Reveal your intentions and your employer and only suffer imprisonment." Jaiko gave the sai another twist and the stranger met him with another scream of pain. "Or you can suffer a painful death at my hands. Choose." His tone maintained a calmness that even surprised himself.
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The answer did not come, only the uproarious blast of a Jhyrian horn and whinny of horses. His relief was a cool river that flowed through his heart, extinguishing the flames of rage and curiosity. Jaiko drew his sai from the stranger's hand, eliciting a yelp from him.
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"Unfortunately for you, they have far more innovative ways of getting traitors to speak," Jaiko said, pointing to the approaching riders.
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A platoon of horsemen, adorned in silver hoplite armor that came alive in the moonlight, rode to meet the Titan and the traitor. Their cloaks of lavender, gold and black, raced behind them. They were the colors of House Giātt, the colors of his half-family.
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The riders rushed past him. Jaiko stepped back and allowed the guards to circle the stranger, they pointed spears at him and shouted commands.
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Rhaxor, commander of Jhyrs' military force, rode to meet Jaiko. He removed his helmet to reveal skin-short black hair and a pair of green eyes that flicked over Jaiko as he hastily checked Jaiko for wounds and ushered him toward a riderless horse.
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"Come boy, family all await you." His voice had deepness that was stern and calming. He was a handsome straight-faced man, with dark olive skin. A man of forty, Jaiko had often thought about how well he had aged even with his deep worry lines.
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Jaiko mounted, turning his horse to face the riders arresting the stranger. "And what of him? What of the masked coward that ambushed me?"
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In secret Jaiko was relieved, he had never killed before, this was more than enough of a first taste. The Titans training prepared him for what killing would be like; they taught him to be ruthless with his enemies, only stopping when the last had fallen or surrendered.
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He looked out over the mess that remained of the other men. Did I really do that? He thought as disgust and pride competed for his mind. The act itself was so easy that he wondered if it was real; surely there had to be some deeper consequence for his actions. He had lost himself in the fight; he ripped those men apart without compassion or hesitation and just maybe with a hint of pleasure.
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He was almost scared of himself.
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Jaiko pulled the reins away from the guard and the traitor, back around to the route home.
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"Trust nobody except myself and my men," Rhaxor said. "I suspect this contract was for a kidnapping, not a murder, and almost surely the attackers did not expect a capable fighter. Certainly not one of Titan quality."
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'Capable fighter', 'Titan quality'. The words rang hollow in his mind.
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"Do not dwell on this Jaiko, they came for you. And I must say Jaiko, this is impressive, one on four is never good odds. "
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At that moment Jaiko's pride burned away his disgust.
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The pair spurred their horses and galloped down the road towards the rocky plains, Jhyr in their sights and the soldiers and prisoner close behind.
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