Vixkard's words ascended to Tawnylon's ears, who contemplated with indignation and helplessness such a simple but devastating revelation. He felt tears struggling to escape from his eyes, but firmly repressed that feeling, adjusting himself in his seat while crossing his arms and looking away to one side, trying to lose himself in the contemplation of a nearby wall.

  "Damned old man, as arrogant as ever," Tawnylon pronounced, with trembling lips that barely managed to articulate each word. "I suspected it since Thamuz informed me of your presence in the city, although I harbored hope that you had changed, that you had forgotten that promise and buried it in the deepest recesses of your heart."

  Vixkard took a long sip from the bowl, completely consuming the contents, and delicately placed the empty container on the railing in front of him. His fingers gently traveled over the rough but consistent surface that served as his support.

  "Serve me another portion of midnight liquor," Vixkard ordered with a measured voice. "This conversation will be considerably prolonged."

  The bartender observed both characters attentively, perceiving in them two markedly contrasting images. To his right was a giant who had forged history in previous times; he knew both well. Tawnylon, former champion of the shamonak fights, a proud warrior who now seemed lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, trying to convince himself that everything was a simple misunderstanding. To his left was Vixkard, whom the bartender had known when his father left him the business that now constituted his livelihood. In the old man, he perceived a detached attitude, emanating an energy that felt enormously superior compared to that of the giant sitting beside him.

  With a slight nod, the bartender took a bottle containing a liquid of an intense bright blue, inside which tiny pink worms seemed to slide, creating a fascinating chromatic contrast. He poured a generous amount into Vixkard's bowl, who thanked him for the gesture and again savored his drink.

  "I suppose you understand perfectly well whom I'm referring to when I mention my desire to face an exceptionally powerful opponent who can give me death in a shamonak combat," Vixkard declared, after emptying his bowl again. "Your son has awakened my interest like no one had managed before, surpassing even Korro, who already possessed extraordinary potential that I could have cultivated for months or years to fulfill my promise. However, Thamuz has shown tremendous growth under my teachings. Furthermore, a new shamonak combat has been announced in which I will participate; I will be precisely that mysterious opponent that has been promoted since the announcement."

  Tawnylon shot an oblique glance at Vixkard, deeply disgusted by his serene and unconcerned tone in the face of such a revelation. He exhaled a barely perceptible sigh while closing his eyes with heaviness.

  "If that's the case, then that damned Zarakel must have tempted you with some irresistible offer. I never expected such behavior from you," Tawnylon commented, silently cursing his master in the depths of his mind. "What exactly did he offer you? Riches, delicacies, properties, territories? Tell me, so I can evaluate if all those trifles justify sacrificing your legacy and your entire life."

  Vixkard brought the bowl to his lips again, this time with an almost desperate fervor. He drained the alcoholic drink to the last drop and, with the tip of his finger, gently tapped the surface of the railing, indicating his desire for another round.

  "He only offered me that opponent I've been searching for so long, nothing more. He handed me that opportunity on a silver platter, and I couldn't turn it down," he chuckled.

  The bartender, who had been delaying serving the alcoholic drink, completely absorbed in the story unfolding before him, spilled some of the amber liquid outside the wooden bowl, drawing the penetrating gazes of both customers upon himself.

  "Sorry, it wasn't my intention," the bartender apologized with a trembling voice, bowing his head in respect before hurriedly withdrawing.

  Vixkard stopped laughing, letting the words hang in the air as he turned his attention to the bowl overflowing with liquor. He grabbed it with both hands, hardened by countless battles, and drank it as if it were soup, slurping up every last drop before wiping his mouth with his forearm.

  

  Tawnylon, upon thinking the few options that remained, desperately grabbed a bottle of midnight liquor, drinking it all in one go. He wiped his mouth and stuck out his tongue, shuddering from the intensely bitter taste that burned his throat.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Then, fight with me, master," he exclaimed with renewed determination. "Let's do it right now. Let's go to an open field and fight to the death in that place. I am capable of fulfilling your promise, I am strong enough to satisfy your expectations," protested Tawnylon, trying to change Vixkard's opinion with growing desperation. "But please, don't make my son have to go through that. I beg you, please, with all my soul, please, don't do it."

  Each word and plea emanated a palpable desperation, but Vixkard seemed to be immersed in his thoughts, setting the bowl aside and crossing his arms over the railing with a pensive air.

  "If that's the case, then I wouldn't move during that combat," he finally responded. "I would stand still receiving the blows and every mortal movement. I would not consider my promise fulfilled; you would simply be like an executioner and I an innocent person. That would be a great weight on your conscience," his voice became deeper. "Imagine how you killed your mentor, someone who was like your father, while he did not defend himself, while if he had eyes, he would stare directly into yours as you destroy his body with each blow you deliver," this time, the words were firm and cutting like the edge of an ancient sword. "Instead, if I do it against your son, it will be the greatest happiness I can feel at this age. I have lived long enough, Tawnylon. I am giving my last energies to that boy. I hope that during combat he can exceed my expectations. If so, I will finally be able to reunite with my dear Ellie, as my affairs on this planet will be finished when my heart stops beating in a shamonak combat arena."

  Tawnylon looked at Vixkard in a lost way, at his master, at one of his father figures who had taken him in when he was just a young man astray with a desire for vengeance burning inside him. He knew that Vixkard was a man who always kept his promises, but he wanted to try with all his might, perhaps, to make him change his mind, because he could not force him to retract from that, although he wished it in the depths of his heart.

  "Could you not forget that promise..." there was a pause that felt like a millennium while Vixkard remained attentive to what his former student wanted to say. "for me?"

  Vixkard raised his head upon hearing Tawnylon's last attempt to make him change, turning his face to confront him directly. This time he wasn't trying to avoid his gaze nor the eyes that were wanting to strike him for his irrevocable decisions, but rather the empty eye sockets of the old warrior looked firmly at the impatient eyes of the giant.

  "Even if I tried" Vixkard replied in a weary voice, before turning his gaze forward again, "it’s something that would eat away at my mind with so many doubts. I’d die without being able to put an end to a purpose I set for myself long ago. Is that what you want for your master?"

  Seeing that Vixkard was not going to change his purpose for any reason, Tawnylon remained motionless in his seat for a long time, until he finally rose slowly, emanating a heat that was perceived as the physical manifestation of his contained fury.

  "If that's how things are going to be," he pronounced with a tense voice, before directing his penetrating gaze towards Vixkard. "I will go to Thamuz and prepare him before tomorrow's combat. I won't tell him anything because surely he won't want to accept the fight, but he must do it anyway, all this for a cause as selfish and deranged as yours."

  Vixkard fell backward, with cheeks lit up in a reddish color while babbling incoherently, alcohol finally dominating his system.

  "It will be a great battle, a great battle, a great battle," he continued repeating like a mantra. "Master against student, a giant against the most powerful."

  Tawnylon instinctively extended his hand to help him get up, seeing that the effect of alcohol was deeply affecting him, but the growing rage that boiled within him began to cloud his judgment. With a gesture of contempt, he hastily abandoned the establishment and walked through the vast streets of the city, losing himself among the crowd without any fixed direction in his mind, until his feet found what appeared to be the green and damp grass that marked the urban limits.

  Regaining some lucidity, he observed that he was almost on the outskirts, contemplating how a hill rose before him over which the crescent moon shone, blue like the firmament speckled with dying stars.

  Climbing the hill with increasingly slower steps until reaching the summit, Tawnylon contemplated the bright moon before his eyes, almost as if it were so close that he could touch it with his calloused fingers. He sat on the damp ground while raising his head to observe the sky, the stars, and finally, evoking in his mind the image of someone important.

  "Lady Ellie, I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are," he whispered to the night wind, "but it seems Vixkard has never forgotten that promise he made to himself when you died. Although, I can see in his eyes that he’s hiding something from me."

  

  Tawnylon paused and exhaled a deep sigh before continuing, his breath forming small clouds in the cold night air.

  "The most powerful..." he murmured with bitterness. "Now my son is involved in this. Vixkard has seen him as the perfect fighter to take his life. I just hope that during combat Thamuz knows how to knock him out, or at least that there's something he can do to win without killing him."

  His voice broke slightly while the stars twinkled above him, silent witnesses to his affliction.

  "But in case Vixkard's stubbornness and conviction lead him to fulfill his purpose... I just hope that you receive him with open arms."

  A solitary tear rolled down his cheek while the night wind caressed his face, carrying his words toward the infinite starry sky.