Story Update
Another two-in-one-day event! Enjoy the story section, where now we get to see what would happen to Nik...

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Faelyn brought his arm down, trying to drive the sword all the way through Nik’s body; but the blade never touched the boy. The weapon stopped just a few inches above his head, and despite the fact that the muscles in his arm bulged from the effort, the weapon wouldn’t move any closer. Nik had his head buried under his arms and dared to look up when the blow didn’t land.

Faelyn looked over his shoulder and saw a monk standing in the doorway. He held his hand out with the palm facing out. His brow was knit together and beads of sweat formed on his face. The muscles around his jaw clenched until it almost seemed like he was shaking with the tension. Faelyn tried to pull his blade up, but it was frozen in place. With a growl, he let go of the weapon; it hung in the air by some mystical force. He reached out and tried to grab Nik’s throat, but the kid scampered away to the far side of the room. Faelyn charged after him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement to his left. Faelyn dropped to the ground just as his own sword whipped through the air above his head. He looked back at the monk and that he was still locked in the same posture of concentration. The sword turned direction in mid-air and came at him again. Faelyn rolled into the small pool just before the weapon cracked the tiles where his head had been moments before. He stood up – he needed to get out of the water before the assault continued.

Propping his arms on the side of the bath, he was able to hoist himself out of the water and roll onto the tiles. He looked around, looking for his sword, not knowing where the next attack would come from. He heard a clatter behind him as the weapon fell to the ground. Faelyn rolled over so that he could see the entrance.

Hiron was in the doorway wrestling with the other monk. Despite the fact that his prey was so close, Faelyn was distracted while the two monks struggled.

“What are you doing, brother Hiron? He means to kill the young healer!”

“As it should be. That boy should not be here. He and his friends are not welcome here. They disrupt the order of things.”

“He must be here – he is one of us and could be the key.”

“It’s only a myth! The boy can do nothing!” Hiron shoved his brother hard enough to slam him into the wall. Hiron pressed his advance, pinning the other monk’s arms against the wall. “This is why outsiders are forbidden. We must protect our own kind.”

Faelyn turned away to find Nik. This was his opportunity and he could not let it pass. The boy had walked over and picked up Faelyn’s sword. He held it out so that the point, even though it shook, was aimed at Faelyn’s chest. With a chuckle, Faelyn stood up. He noticed Velash pushing himself up from the ground and using the wall to steady himself. The man was too far away to interfere. Faelyn strode towards his prey.

Nik swung the sword, but the blow was clumsy and Faelyn was still wearing his armor. He stepped into the blood to take the force out of the blow. The sword clanged against his armor and Faelyn immediately snapped his arm across it, locking it into place. With his other hand, he shoved Nik’s shoulder, pushing the boy back and making him lose his grip on the weapon. Nik fell to the ground with a thud.

His warrior instinct screamed at him and Faelyn ducked and turned, just as a knife whipped through the air above him. The two monks were still engaged with each other in the doorway, but the Wilder, Isen, stood just beyond them with an empty hand. His other hand held his second dagger.

“You won’t kill the boy, city dweller,” Isen said as he stepped through. He held a hand out to the struggling Velash, bidding him to stay put. He walked forward, resting most of his weight on the balls of his feet.

“You think that you can stop me?”

Isen nodded as he continued his advance. He dropped down into a fight stance by bending his knees. Behind him, the two monks stumbled into the hallway, their arms still locked together.

“Your movements are slow, I shall defeat you.”

“You can try,” Faelyn said with a sneer as he flipped the sword to hold it by the hilt. He waved it back and forth, keeping the point focused on his new opponent.

As the sword moved to the left, Isen stepped in to the right, just past the point of the sword. Faelyn expected this maneuver and brought his weapon all the way around behind his back to deliver a sweeping downward cut. But Isen changed his direction, continuing past his opponent rather than charging in, so Faelyn’s sword cut through empty air. Isen snapped his foot out, kicking Faelyn just above the hip. He tried to compensate, but his armor prevented him from moving to regain his balance; instead he fell to the ground with a clatter.

Isen didn’t hesitate. He jumped on Faelyn and placed his dagger against Faelyn’s throat. Isen grinned, showing only teeth. “Why do you want to kill the boy?”

Faelyn struggled, trying to get his arm up to keep the knife at bay, but Isen leaned forward, drawing a red line on Faelyn’s throat.

“Why? Tell me.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Wilder.”

“Why not?”

“Your kind doesn’t understand the meaning of the word honor.”

Isen brought his hand back and smacked the pommel across the side of Faelyn’s jaw. Faelyn’s head snapped to the side and blood flew out of his mouth to spatter onto the tiles. Isen turned Faelyn’s face back to look up at him, his dagger once again on his victim’s throat.

“This said by the man who would kill a child.”

“He must die.”

“Why?” Isen struck Faelyn again on the same side of his face.

“Tell me,” Isen said, drawing his weapon back for another blow.

Faelyn spoke before Isen had a chance to deal it. “I gave my word.”

“To who?”

“No one you would know.” When Isen moved to strike, Faelyn smiled, his mouth full of blood. “Ormu Tir.” The look of incomprehension on Isen’s face only made his smile wider.
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