Duel

The white fields of the north were overrun by hordes of gruesome creatures, humanoid in shape, but with with skins of red and black. Sporting sharp horns and fangs, and some even had tusks.
Marcus knew them to be demons, this vision was common, he had it nearly every time, in this one too, there was Arthur, shouting orders, and he could see many faces, most of which were unknown to him, except from previous visions, although they were clearly trusted comrades, with whom he had survived a multitude of battles.
And then…

Another battle. Many more demons, in the mountains this time, there was a man who reminded him of his father, but no, more like Arthur, except much older.

A woman and a baby, it was his child, a boy, and although he did not recognize her, she did look… familiar some how, as if he had seen her in a half forgotten dream.

A city, surrounded by mountains, he knew these mountains, he recognized them immediately, they were the mountains around his home on Cloud Central, the name for both his tribe, and the floating island on which he had been born. This city must be built sometime in the coming years, currently there were nothing more than villages in that place. There was even a castle, it was grand and magnificent, and it looked like it had been there a while.

And there was he, fighting Jorgh, so a duel then? He sighed to himself. Naea and Arthur, and many others were watching. Jorgh rushed towards him like an angry bear, Marcus swung his blade, he watched in slow motion, as the battle took place, he looked on for a good minute, and then…

A muddy square, surrounded by wooden buildings and pine trees, the smell of rain and smoke filling his nose. There were many blurs here, people, but out of focus, with the exception of one man, a blond mage with a beard, and thick matted hair, Claith, the madman, smiling at him, he could make out Naea, and a shadowy figure behind her.

Naea in his arms, a knife between her ribs, blood flowing into the ground, and seemingly having soaked all her clothes, and most of his clothes, a large pool of black and red beneath her, and… 

He awoke with a yell, and sat up. He was alone of course, she always slept in her own tent, if they spent the night together, there would be rumors.
He got out of bed, he had to go see her, he quickly pulled on a pair of pants and a shift, and left. Naea’s tent wasn’t far. It was still dark, but the red of morning was starting to creep in from behind the mountains.
It wasn’t long before he realized that he had forgotten his boots, he could feel the snow between his toes, it was already starting to hurt, but he was at her place, one of the nicer and more spacious accommodations in the warcamp.
He opened the tent flap, and was surprised to find Naea awake, putting on her robes. She looked over to him, but didn’t seem surprised to see him. “I’m fine” She said calmly, and she continued getting dressed.
“I was worried about you,” he said. “Did you have another vision?” She asked. She had found out about them some time ago. He nodded.
“Did you see me die?” She asked, as she smiled at him fondly, “I’m a daughter of Malishai, you know, I don’t die so easily.”
“That may be true, but you aren’t immortal, are you?” She smiled, but less surely now. “Well, I suppose not…” she mused, almost to herself.
“How did you know I had a vision?” Marcus asked, confused at her casually predicting why he was there. He could hear his spirit chuckling in the back of his mind.
“I know lots of things, my love, just as I know that if you walk out of my tent dressed like that, people will talk. Look at yourself, you’re half naked, you should go put some clothes on.”
Marcus looked down at himself, he was a bit under dressed. He thought, nodded, and left, but not before planting a firm kiss on her cheek.
“You startle too easily, boy, have your years of complacency made you soft?”

“Arthur, report!”
It had been three days since the vision, and they were closing in on the green valley. “Our scouts have spotted Brandon and his spies about half a day from here, after that it should be a days match to Jorghs camp!” Marcus nodded, pleased. Jorgh didn’t have a main base of operations, he was nomadic within his territory, going around recruiting young men to fight for him, and to levy taxes from his willing subjects, and if they didn’t he took it anyway, and burned their village down on his way out. He had tried doing this to some of the cloud central villages in the past, but the last time was six years ago, and Marcus’ father had sent a large force of warriors, and given him a good thrashing.
“How are the troops?” He asked.
“They are doing well, they maintain their strength, they will be ready chief!” His brother said, a proud smirk on his face.
Marcus nodded at him approvingly. “We won’t need them, increase our speed, I want to confront Jorgh by morning.”
His spirit tugged the bond, “What do you mean?still no fight?” it asked.
“Worry not, spirit,” he sent back, in his mind, “ we will fight.”
“Good” the spirit sighed.
“But what if they..!” Arthur exclaimed “No brother, they won’t” He assured him, Arthur paused, and smiled. “You had another vision, didn’t you?” he asked. Marcus nodded.
There was a hummingbird buzzing around them, Marcus knew what it was, it was Arthur’s spirit, his was a beast type, with familiar as its talent, meaning it would appear in the world when cast, and do magic for him, and help him do magic himself, and it would be around somewhere whenever his brother was casting magic, which was a lot of the time nowadays.
“What are you casting?” He asked. “Just a routine checkup, I like to keep tabs on all our officers.” Marcus smiled, it was a bit much, but Arthur was taking well to the role. 
“Very well.” He said “What’s the range on that bird anyway?” 
“He can’t go very far, and he can only relay things to me when he is back, but he can go pretty much anywhere in the army, maybe even a bit further!” Arthur explained proudly.
“Very good, that could could in handy.”
Arthur positively glowed at that.

“What can you tell me Brandon?” Marcus asked the spy master. They had increased their pace, and made it to Brandon’s camp in just a few short hours, even before dinner.
“Well, Jorgh is not expecting you by the looks of it, but he is there with most of his best warriors and many of his officers.”
Marcus nodded, this was expected, it was his main entourage, Jorgh always kept most of his warriors close, only having the others separate as backup forces, and for flanking tactics. They were lucky to find him here on the edge of his territory, the further they would have had to enter his lands, the bigger the chance of being discovered, and losing their advantage.
“What about Claith?” Marcus asked.
“He seems to be busy with some golem project of his, as isn’t out of the ordinary. But but my guys did see him wearing opal, Marcus.” Brandon said, with a look of concern on his face.
Marcus caught Naea looking up at that, and she almost forgot to look uninterested, which would have shocked him more than the news about the opal.
“His third element huh? That guys is dangerous. How old is he? Twenty four?” Marcus bit his lower lip. Everyone knew Claith was a skilled mage, being an expert in two of his elemental spirits powers, but three elements? That was almost unheard of, for mages of any age, but he was young! Most elemental mages stuck to one or two elements throughout their life.
“He is twenty three, I think.” Arthur said. “What are his other elements anyway? Besides life of course.”
“Fire I believe” Marcus replied. “I’ve been told he is a gifted pyromancer.” Brandon nodded. 
“My men also saw him wearing ruby”
Arthur grinned. “Suits him I suppose, the element of crazies.”
“No” Naea interjected “Fire is the element of restraint and self control, any loose canon, or ‘crazy’ person, would have long since burned himself to a crisp.”
Arthur fell silent, he and Marcus both knew what that would mean, a madman with a capacity for restraint.

They marched throughout the night and made it to green valley before sunrise. Jorghs camp, what looked to be in small village, was on a steep hill, he had chosen it for its defensive position of course, and Marcus made sure to place his army in clear view, on the field beneath, spreading them out to make his numbers appear greater than they were.
“It’s time” he said. “Brandon, you’re with me, tell your men to keep an eye out! Arthur, Gather a small force, big enough to intimidate, but not big enough to make him attack on sight. Witch, Just sit on your horse, and maintain that menacing sneer that you love so much! Yes, exactly like that!” She gave him a slight frown, but she always looked like she was frowning when they were in public. He gave her a wink, and they were off.

“What is this?! What do you want scum?!” A voice roared through the settlement, and a figure stormed into the square , where they were waiting for him. He had obviously just been woken up, and he had quickly put on his battle outfit, a thick woolen vest, his battle pants, boots, and chain mail, which Marcus could swear had been put on backwards.
The man himself had a scraggly red beard, with an especially thick walrus mustache, broad shoulders, and medium length red hair, about as scraggly as his beard. The man was short, but he had arms like hams, and a torso wider than Marcus’ own shoulders, despite him being a good head taller than the man.
“I’m here to demand your vows of fielty, Jorgh of green valley!” He knew he wasn’t going to get a positive answer, but no one could say he didn’t try, and anyway, this man would take this as a huge insult, perhaps one just big enough to challenge him to a duel first.
“Whaat?!” Jorgh roared. “And just what on Emina’s snowy slopes could compel me to do that?” He demanded, his face turning red from anger.
“You know the prophesy as well as I, Jorgh.” Marcus said calmly. “You know what is to come, and if we wish to survive, we must be united under one banner, and one crown.”
“Bah! Children’s stories?” Jorgh laughed at him, a mix of anger and disbelief. “You come here to scare me into kissing your ass, with babies bedtime tales?”
“The Prophesy is true!” Marcus announced loudly. “Have you not seen the signs? The red moon? The stars falling from the sky? The chosen one is coming, Zenithrix will rise again, it is only a matter of time, and the people of Cloud must be ready, because before he does, death and war will come for us, we must stand together as one if we hope to survive!” Marcus could see Jorghs men looking at him, and back to their leader, doubt on their faces, many believed in the prophesy, but men in power would not give that power up lightly.
“There have been red moons for two years now, and still there is no chosen one! But if it is a war you want, ill give you one!”
“If you don’t swear to me willingly, I will fight and kill you, for the right to rule your people, just as you did your own father, I believe that is your tribes tradition is it not? Unless, of course. You don’t think you can beat me!” That should do it, he thought to himself.
Jorgh stared at him, anger and outrage distorting his face. “You dare challenge me boy?” He shouted. “Alright then, I will teach you lesson in respect, don’t worry, ill only spank you a little, my mother taught me not to harm defenseless insects.”
Marcus ignored the provocation that was meant to throw him off, and readied himself to cast his blade.

Before he knew what was happening, Jorgh started to transform, he grew thick brown hair, his face contorted into a snout, and his fingers grew into claws, the man who had previously been shorter than him, now towered over him.
Jorgh had a beast spirit, like Arthur, but his was a bear with fusion as it’s talent. Which meant that they can alternate between their two forms, as their souls have been fused together.
“It’s time.” He said to himself.
“Yheesssss, Finally!” His spirit responded, Marcus jumped down from his horse, as the blade appeared in his hand, and what a blade it was. It was long and broad, with a sharp tip, it was the perfect weight, and balanced optimally. It was a pretty sword, more decorated than a standard war-sword, but not ornate. It had a simplistic beauty to it,  this tool of death.
Jorgh charged at him, he was fast, an big, he must be nearly three meters. Marcus evaded him, and counter attacked. When he was young, swordsmanship had been his passion, which was why this spirit had chosen him, his was a passion spirit, and one with the talent to manifest, one of the rarer of the four talents that spirits can have. The most common being conduction, which many elemental mages had, condusction mages were also called casters, even though all mages could technically cast spells. There was also Arthurs familiar, and Jorghs Fusion. His spirit had thrived off his passion for battle, the fight, and had always appeared when needed.
It had led him through the great clan wars of his youth, he had been fourteen when he went to war for the first time, he had fought, and he had fought well, he had killed many people, and bathed in the blood of his enemies, and eventually, he had lost the taste for swordsmanship.
But then the vision had come to him, and he had known that battle would one day find him again, and that day was now here, the first of many. He lamented not having been able to put it off any longer, but it was meant to be, it was pointless to try, as he could not escape it.

He was rusty of course, Jorgh had hit him several times, he was fast, way faster than could be expected from such a large beast. Marcus felt his muscle memory do its work, the movements felt natural.
He slashed at the big bear, a hit, a fine hit. Human blood feel to the ground, but he felt no pride for his success, nor for his skill, he merely felt a solemn sense of duty, as his blade turned more and more red with each successful strike.
His spirit reveled, each strike seemingly envigorating him, he both encouraged him, and chided him, for every succesful strike, and every falty step.
The fight lasted a good twenty minutes, Jorgh was good, as good as they had said, Marcus was covered in scratches and claw marks, but alas, Marcus’ blade met the beasts throat, and Jorgh was no more, after the chieftains severed skull hit the ground, he turned back into his human form, that would certainly make it easier to bury him, Marcus thought to himself.
The dead man had an almost surprised look on his face, Marcus saw the bright light in his eyes, as he passed into the afterlife, the light of Emina’s world, where only the best of warriors went when they died.