The Forgotten Rogue

Chapter 36

Emeric's fame grew over the country as he defeated Victors one after the other.  He was undefeated and people started to fear him, not because he was a Rogue, but because it seemed as if he was immortal...A phantom... No one could land a single blow on him in the Dome.

While they thought he was some kind of supernatural being, Emeric was out training himself to higher prestige.  He became stronger and more battleworthy with each week that flew by.  Calvert had seized to dual against him.  The shame of defeat was too heavy for the Dome Keeper.  Emeric had surpassed his level of swordsmanship within weeks after his first victorious Victors battle.  

Few warriors managed to last more than a few minutes against the young Rogue.  Most refused to go up against him in a practice dual, knowing that they had no chance of winning.  The crowds adored him, despite his heritage.  Everyone bet on his victory, and the coins in their pockets grew heavier with each death added to Emeric's name.

After yet another victory, Emeric found himself in Aire's medical room.  He had injured his wrist after a rather difficult battle against a warrior from Deepdale.  The new Dome Keeper had chosen a strong opponent to put up against the Rogue, but he hadn't been strong enough, for yet another death had been added to Emeric's name.

Emeric hid a wince as Aire inspected his wrist.  It was swollen and a slight blue tinge marring the skin.  She looked at him sternly, "You should go easier on your opponents.  You hit so hard, you've sprained your wrist."  Emeric shrugged guiltily, "He had good defences."

Aire rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.  "Just do what you must to stay alive." The words were scarcely more than a whisper, but the reached Emeric's keen ears.  As Aire wrapped Emeric's wrist with a supportive bandage, she stated, "It will take a week to heal.  You shouldn't use it at all till then.  So no more training this week." Emeric looked at her with mild disappointment, "I still have my other hand, you know.  It is very capable of holding a sword."

"No kidding..." Aire replied, but she made no move to retreat from her instructions.  "Calvert won't be happy." Emeric added pryingly, searching for new grounds to place his argument on.  Aire huffed, " Is he ever?"

Emeric sighed, knowing that nothing he could say would change Aire's mind. Thus, to avoid conflict, he changed the subject of conversation.  "Do you have access to the death count charts?"

Aire frowned slightly.  "Yes. Why the sudden interest?" Emeric lowered his gaze, "I was just wondering how much I have left." He stated, ashamed by the fact that killing had become second nature.

"Kills?" Aire questioned and Emeric replied with a nod.  "Don't go anywhere, I'll fetch your charts." She stated as she hastily left the room.  The guards who stood by the door tensed as they were left with the best warrior in Scoalgeoc.  Their hands dropped to the hilts of their swords.  They both knew that if Emeric decided to leave, they wouldn't be enough to stop him.  Injured and unarmed, Emeric was still a formidable force to recon with.

However, to their relief, Aire returned a few minutes later.  They all knew that the Rogue cared to much for the physician to try anything in her presence.  He wouldn't dare do anything that could harm her in any manner.

"Let's see." Aire mumbled as she sifted through the pages in front of her.  She read through a few that contained most of his previous battle details and injuries.  Finally she reached the document that kept track of his kill count.  Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the document.  Emeric got to his feet, "What is it." He was about to walk to Aire, but the guards grunted and gestured back at the working table.

Emeric sat down with some hesitation. Aire turned to him, a shocked look plastered on her face.  "You have ninety-eight kills." It took a few seconds for Emeric to register what she had said as his face turned pale.  "So..." He began, but she finished his sentence, "Only two more kills and you earn your freedom." A gleaming smile burst onto her face as she rushed forward.  Emeric jumped to his feet, and before the guards could stop him, he embraced Aire with an overjoyed hug. 

They both laughed with disbelief. Aire punched him playfully as they stepped apart, "Slow down would you...Who will tire me with senseless conversation once you're gone?"  Emeric laughed, but deep down he knew that Aire was as much a prisoner of the Dome as he was.  Earning his freedom wouldn't bring the release from death and pain that he needed...It would only bring more guilt and sorrow for leaving her behind.

"Just two more..." Emeric murmured as he thought of the lives he had taken. 

*****

Emeric tightened his grip on his broadsword as he waited for the starting horn to blast.  It was a familiar anxiety that came over him as the minutes drew by. The crowds were silent with anticipation.  All their eyes were on him.  They had bet their money on him after all.  No one cared about the other Victor who stood opposite Emeric.  To them, he was already dead.

Emeric was up against a Victor from Deepdale.  The Dome keeper wanted to prove that he had worthy Victors after Emeric's swift victory against his other warrior.  Whether that was true or not was soon to be determined.

Emeric slowly walked forward as the sounding horn blasted into the silence of the crowds.  He dragged the tip of his sword through the pale dust, carving a deep gash into the unsuspecting ground.

When the Deepdale Victor came within reach, Emeric lifted his pale blue eyes to meet those of his opponent.  As the Domer glanced into the Rogue's eyes, he was hit with a sudden wave of fear.  There was a stagger in his stride as his confidence left him.  Before he could recover, Emeric attacked.

He struck at absurd, yet random angles as he fought his way through the Domer's defenses.  The Victor grunted as he blocked Emeric's bone shattering blows.  He did his best to block and deflect the hideous attacks, but after seven minutes of desperately defending himself, he hadn't managed to land a single offensive move.

Surprising Emeric, he changed his tactic.  As Emeric attacked with a side-cut, the defender spun out of reach.  Emeric embarrassedly stumbled forward when his blow wasn't met with resistance.   As the Deepdale Victor completed his turn, he stabbed out with his sword.  Emeric dodged, but not fast enough.  The opposing blade cut a shallow wound across his torso. 

A horrified gasp rang through the crowd as they watched Emeric with disbelief.

He grunted with pain, but acted faster than his opponent could react.  He grabbed the blade, ignoring the sting as the razer sharp edge cut into his palm.  With a savage jerk, he threw the Deepdaler off of his feet.  Before he could react, Emeric drove his sword into the man's side.

The cry of pain reached everyone's ears as the battle reached it's concluding seconds.

Emeric ended the man's suffering with a swift stab at his heart.  The Victor's eyes shut as he let out a sigh of relief.  Emeric turned away as the usual wave of guilt hit him.  His mother's face came to his mind.  It reflected disappointment.  Emeric grit his teeth and pushed the thoughts of his mother out of his head.  His own conscious was enough to haunt him at night.  He didn't need his mother's disappointment added to that.

'Just one more...' Emeric told himself.  Just one more kill and he wouldn't have to rob anyone of their life ever again.  He'd be free.  He could return back to the forest, to a life of solitude, or even to Etresh.  He could start a whole new life, away from the death a chaos of the world, away from the memories of what he had become.

"Just one more..."

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