The Duel was postponed to twilight to allow Ereya to recover and hopefully convince parties it was not worth it. I sat in silence with Curare. The sun was dipping ever closer to the mountains and soon it would be time for the fight to commence. Sighing I went from looking at the ground to staring at Curare.

  “You’re not going to back down,” I observed. Curare met my gaze and shook their head.

  “Backing down won’t convince him of anything. I don’t see him rushing here to beg for my mercy. Face it DJ this world isn’t gentle, you are.”

  “I just hoped,” I explained softly. “No one would have to die.”

  “Yeah, sometimes dying is the best thing that can happen,” Curare said.

  “You’re not,” I asked, alarmed.

  “No, I’m putting him in a coffin where he clearly wants someone to put him,” Curare growled, grip tightening on their mace.

  With that Curare rose and left toward the field. I followed and stopped behind them. Reaching out I rested my hand on the steel pauldron that covered Curare’s shoulder. I leaned toward their ear and whispered.

  “If you must deliver death, be merciful in it’s swiftness,” I stated solemnly. Curare didn’t acknowledge what was said, they just put on their helm. I looked one last time then headed into the stands. Timothy was sitting in the stands next to Helen still looking very tense. I sat next to Helen who bowed her head slowly.

  “Curare’s going to fight,” I stated. The next minutes of silence were tense. The Grand Magus took to the field and Ereya headed to sit with the rest of Hurricane Rend. In a Duel people didn’t bow, they just waited for the words to start. Ereya delayed for as long as she could until finally she said the words “and Begin.”

  The Grand Magus leveled his staff at Curare and began blasting spells. The magic rained down at Curare who hid behind their shield. Smoke rose up from the area around Curare as the barrage of spells continued. I thought it looked like fireworks exploding across the ground. The smoke on the left side of the battlefield continued to grow thicker and thicker obscuring the form of Curare. After a minute the Grand Magus stopped and smiled. He lifted his staff over his head and let out a shout of victory.

  Smoke covered the entire left side of the battlefield. It was so thick that nobody could tell the condition of Curare. Everyone assumed the worst till a mace came flying out the smoke striking the Grand Magus in the chest. With an achh sound the mage was knocked off his feet and to the ground. Curare strode out of the smoke with confidence. It was like that the spells hadn’t even scratched them.

  “Yield,” Curare screamed as the Grand Magus tried to get to their feet. Rushing forward metal boot collided with soft flesh as the Grand Magus was kicked back onto the ground. Placing their boot on the Grand Magus’s chest, Curare screamed again.

  “Yield!”

  “Go to hell elf c-!” The scream of pain that accompanied the breaking of bones interrupted the Magus’s words. Curare had grabbed up her mace and brought it down right into the crotch of the mage. Judging by the appearance of things and the sound the damage was critical if not lethal. There was a pause as Hurricane Rend and the legends of bogus sat in silence. Except for the person who was clearly throwing up from the sound of retching.

  “Yield.”

  “Nnooo Aaaaaahhhhhh!” The mace had come down again this time on a hand. Across the field I looked into the horrified faces of Hurricane Rend. The Grand Magus was powerful and was getting savaged. His screams continued as the mace rose and fell, breaking more and more of his body. Curare stopped as the Grand Magus struggled to get words out from a mouth filled with blood and vomit. Lifting a bloody twisted stump of a hand tears ran down the Magus’s face.

  “I-I-I,” he struggled.

  “Too late,” Curare stated as they lifted their mace for one final swing. A blast suddenly jerked Curare’s head backwards as their helmet went flying. Blood ran down Curare’s face as they swayed back and forth. Swirling greenlight gathered around Curare.

  “Fuck,” Timothy stated. “Curare’s going to torture him.” Helen’s eyes went wide and I rose to my feet. Just as Timothy had said what unfolded next was pure torture. Curare’s healing couldn’t mend broken bones if they weren’t splinted back into place. It could heal skin and keep a person from bleeding out. Thus if someone wanted to be very cruel they could break bones and rend flesh. Then they could heal the victim causing a painful and grotesque recovery. If the victim was then suddenly pushed or in this case kicked the fragments of bone would pierce skin, puncture organs and cause intense pain.

  The Grand Magus’s second decided to put a stop to the barbarity after about a minute. The idiot rushed onto the field sword drawn screaming. People shouted No from both sides. Sword met shield and mace met face. There was a crunch and a splat. This was the killing of a second person.

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  Except the Grand Magus wasn't dead. Curare dropped the mace and lifted the limp twisted form of the Grand Magus. They then slammed the body into the ground, their hands glowing green. With fist and boot Curare tortured the Magus for another five minutes. Then with a final swiftness Curare brought a boot down on the face of the Grand Magus. The transfer of their weight crushed his face, killed him, and ended his tortured screams. With that the brutal affair was over and Curare trudged off the field.

  Ereya shouted to calm her people down. What happened next I didn’t stick around to find out. I went to the central watch tower and climbed to the top. Just as I expected Curare was sitting up on the observation platform with their armor and weapons in a pile. Blood, dirt, and grim still covered their entire body. Sitting down on the wooden floor I pulled out a bucket, a rag, and a water skin from my inventory. Wordlessly I handed them to Curare. I then unhooked my hammer and pushed some of my mana into it. The hammer lit up casting a bit of light which was necessary as darkness fell across the land.

  “Cute,” Curare croaked, wincing a bit.

  “Yeah, the light will last for about an hour then I'll have to refresh it. Maybe something could hold the mana better but this is what I got…,” I stated, falling silent toward the end of my sentence. “You need me to get Helen.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? That didn’t seem fine. Your helmet was a ruin from what I could tell. I can only imagine what that felt like,” I countered.

  “Like a bat to the head. The helmet will repair and reappear with my stuff,” Curare commented. Which was true everybody from Bogus had magical clothing and gear that repaired itself overnight. It also always managed to find its way back to its owners.

  “Magic,” I exclaimed, waving his hand in an arch dramatically.

  “Even with it this world sucks,” Curare proclaimed.

  “Yeah it’s pretty Bogus,” I agreed.

  Curare took off their gambeson and pants. They dragged the wet cloth across their body washing the grime off. Finishing they put the rag into the bucket and slumped against the half wall. I waited a minute before turning to look at them.

  “Are you cold,” I asked.

  “Yeah”

  I reached into one of my pouches and pulled out a blanket. The blanket was made of furs that had been cobbled together. I handed it to Curare who took it with thanks and wrapped themselves up in it. Curare then rested their head on my shoulder. Neither of us slept, and neither of us spoke. Words were not needed at this moment nor would they be of any use. In that moment silence communicated everything.

  “I went too far,” Curare said after a long time. Time was hard to tell at night so I wasn’t sure when Curare broke the silence. I had no idea how long we’d been sitting there, seconds, minutes, hours.

  “He refused to yield,” I offered.

  “I wasn’t swift.”

  “Your names not Taylor. Bad joke, bad joke. But, yeah. You could have ended that much faster,” I said. I had tried to lighten the mood but the joke was just bad. “As long as you need me here I’ll stay but if you want to be left alone,” I offered.

  “No… I…I…” Curare struggled to get the words out. Tears danced at the corner of their eyes and regret stole away their voice.

  “Yeah, same,” I said with a slight smile spreading across my face. Curare’s somber expression softened and they looked at me. Then we just sat looking at each other lost in thought. Curare then went back to leaning on my shoulder. Silence prevailed once again. Sleep found us comforted by the return of each other's presence.

  Curare and I awoke early in the morning and went down to the dinning hall. Breakfast wasn’t ready as Helen wasn’t even up. Timothy and Ereya Starbeam were awake and sitting at the large dining table. They both looked at Curare and me.

  “I’m assuming Hurricane Rend is leaving,” I stated as Curare went to one of the baskets used to store food. I didn’t sit, I just stood at the edge of the table. Curare sat at the table on the far side from Ereya and Timothy.

  “Hurricane Rend is officially disbanded. Two officers and more than half it’s members dead, It’s a disaster. Most of the survivors are heading back today unless they can convince you to accept them as residents of Bogus,” Ereya said.

  “After what they saw,” I asked.

  “The dishonored used an insult that would start fights in most lands. Not all nations are like the one the dishonored came from and not everyone in Rend was from Ostly,” Ereya supplied.

  “Dishonored,” I asked.

  “When someone dies in an honor duel their name is erased and forgotten. They are only allowed to keep their name and be buried if the victor signals it at the end of the duel. Since no signal was given we burned the bodies and struck the names from our records,” Ereya explained. Curare sat motionless with a bit of jerky in their mouth. Everyone was silent. Why, was the question that hung in the air that no one spoke. Why would anyone risk not only death but being forgotten by everyone.

  “I and several others recognize the immense skill and power of Bogus. We wish to join under your banner,” Ereya stated, breaking the silence and shocking everyone.

  “Bogus isn’t a guild, or clan or whatever you call it. We don’t really have a government. We're like a tribe of lost people,” I said.

  “Then we make a government,” Timothy stated.

  “That’s not something that just happens overnight, it took almost three months for the USA to get its constitution,” I argued.

  “Just think about it, in the meantime we can publish a short list of common laws and rights,” Timothy offered. “We can set up rules and I don’t think anyone will try to fight us at the moment.”

  “That’s fine and all but why do you wish to join us Ereya. What about Ostly? Surely you have a home there,” I said.

  “I have no loyalty to conquerors,” Ereya spat as the owl on her shoulder made an angry noise. I sighed and glanced at Timothy who looked at me.

  “That could work. Ereya if you can get Helen and Timothy on board you may stay. I can’t improve living conditions just yet. Homes for everyone will be coming soon just give me some time,” I stated resignedly. More people wouldn’t be a bad thing but I wasn’t quite sure this was the way to go. “I’ve got a bridge and defensive project to work out. I will speak with you later.” I excused myself. As the only builder, work was calling and I was forced to answer.

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