Apocalypse (A Story of Only Battle Scenes)

23. St'irian: Opportunity

(Year -4)

"Jš cizn huzg'l-huwl, St'irian." You seem very excited, St'irian.

I smiled brightly at Dàhhtk as they swam alongside me, their rust-colored tail efficiently pushing the water behind them where my smaller mottled brown one had to work to keep up. "Cù kšbn," I told them, speeding up even more. I am. This was the most important day of my life, and I was going to get there as soon as possible.

I was nervous too, though. I'd trained for this ever since I'd learned that any merperson could become a Henchman of Dasemring, as long as they showed their loyalty and skill.

I want more than anything to serve the Lord Dasemring, I thought. I have the loyalty, and I've worked for the skill. I'll prove myself.

I was startled out of my head when I saw something looming down in the distance. Now that I thought about it, it was strangely light too, enough that my body's secondary visual system — the one for seeing near the surface and above water — was kicking in.

Is that... the shore?

"Dàhhtk, kšbn-b gà gùk'm?" I asked, repeating my question aloud.

They slowed, turning to face me. I let my tail relax and slowed as well before I ran into them. "B'f kšbn," they confirmed. It is.

I glanced back at the dark smudge in the distance, eyes wide as saucers. I'd never seen it before. I'd been up close to the surface when playing games with my siblings and friends, but we'd still been far out at sea, far enough where even the most foolish of human watercraft were unlikely to reach us. "Xtsaglan-k'oh dù b?" Are we going to it?

"K'oh xtsaglanuzt." We are not.

I waited for them to explain what we were going to do.

"K'oh xwakìun d'ak tark'a-nvkìal," they informed me. We are going to have a mock duel. "Cù tark'an-jà, st ahinok'in aìtt'is. Jš wakìun-bal aìtt'ixn-jf, st cškaln-jf." I will assess you, and offer instruction. You are here to prove yourself, but also to learn.

My eyes widened. "D'ak tark'a?" I repeated. That was... not quite what I'd expected. In fact, I didn't like that at all. I prided myself on being a good thinker, a good strategist, but I wasn't a raw fighter. And even if I were to pass this assessment, the ocean god would take it to mean I was a fighter and give me fighting roles where I'd be much more effective in others. But it doesn't matter. I'm not here for myself. I'm here to serve Dasemring however he'll let me.

"Jš xwakìun tazd'lezt," Dàhhtk said. You won't do badly. It wasn't quite as reassuring as saying I'd do well, but I took it.

They turned in the water to face me, floating aimlessly so that a current carried them very slowly to the side. "Ptah. Gark'an-cà." Okay. Attack me.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to stay calm, then opened them and raised my hands. They hadn't given me any weapons, so the only possibility was that we were using control of water. That was the only other way duels were done.

They said to attack them. With a sharp sound from my mouth, I thrust a hand forward, shoving water in front of it. The movement became harder the further I extended my arm, but I pushed through, sending the pressurized water at my opponent.

Dàhhtk raised their arms as if grabbing the water in front of them, then spread them to the sides. It appeared that they'd diffused the water I'd sent at them back into the rest of it, completely nullifying the pressure I'd built up.

I flicked my tail out to the side, circling around them. Okay. They'd had years of training under Dasemring, and I'd only had the bare minimum of instruction required before taking the exam. It wasn't fair.