God of Discovery [high fantasy, slow build, mlm]

Arc 3 - 33. There are no gods, part 3

The first time D'Argen and Vah'mor ever sparred only for fun, D'Argen walked away with so many bruises that they both rushed to Simeal. The idea of one of them hurting another one was so foreign. It took many years for them to realize that the mahee's protection of itself did not count when it was for the betterment of them all. It took even longer for D'Argen to truly understand what that meant.

Back then, just the thought of hurting another piece of himself with malice and anger was immediately wiped away. He could get annoyed and angry at his others, but not actually hurt them. It was the same for his own body. Just the thought of hurting himself was wiped from his mind before it was even fully formed.

The mahee, however, worked in mysterious ways. He was able to cut his palm to give his blood for Simeal to study. He was able to run through a forest where the trees tried to tear his limbs off if he was not precise enough. He was able to fight back against Vah'mor with a smile on his face and a sharpened sword. He was even able to slam the door in Yaling's face or shove Abbot away from him with force.

Never to hurt though.

Never to the detriment of the mahee.

Never with the intent to actually kill.

Not like how Vah'mor attacked him now.

D'Argen scrambled on the empty space and tried to make it work to his advantage even as he tried to run away. Vah'mor had a bit of his speed, but not enough to actually match D'Argen. In neither set of memories. And it would not be the same in this place. D'Argen decided it to be so.

The thought was enough. Vah'mor's movements slowed even as they remained as graceful as ever. D'Argen dodged under another swipe of Vah'mor's glaive. He flipped off a desert rock as it turned to sand to avoid the back swipe of the second blade at the end of the glaive. When he landed on a platform higher up, Vah'mor followed. It collapsed under him, turning into nothing at all. He could not concentrate on both creating the places for his feet to land and on avoiding Vah'mor's attacks.

A weapon.

He needed something to—

When he raised his hand to block Vah'mor's blade, he had a dagger in his hand instead of Varuba's stone. It was small, the blade so thin it was a surprise it could even hold against the weight of the glaive, but held it did. And the guard was able to stop the curved blade from the glaive from sliding into his hand. He pushed with all his might, putting just enough mahee into his arm to speed it up and give it more momentum.

Vah'mor spun away with the glaive as if the parry was nothing at all.

It hurt. D'Argen clutched at his chest and tried to breathe through the pain of using his mahee. Why would the mahee allow him to hurt himself so much?

Like... like Lilian did. The same way Lilian, somehow, found a loophole. And it was not just Lilian. Arehal had made D'Argen bleed to prove a point. Did that count?

Vah'mor visible hesitated. Their face softened. They shook their head and then came at him again, another smooth arc of the glaive that had just enough of D'Argen's speed behind it to make him stumble.

A second dagger. D'Argen always had two on him. The smaller blade on the back end of the glaive was even more curved than the main one and it came too close to his fingers. He pushed the dagger down with all his strength and then dropped it, throwing Vah'mor off balance.

Instead of taking the opening to stab with his one remaining dagger, D'Argen jumped back and started running.

The small cliff he was on earlier was not too far from the top of Sky Mountain. Three or four days walking.