Right of the Victor
Chapter 1

As I kept swinging the sword in front of me, I knew my arms were going to give out soon. It had been hours since I started dueling Meoris, and even though I won every time, I still could run out of endurance. Limbs burning with fatigue and soreness, I knocked away another incoming blow with a clash of metal and slipped past my friend’s guard to kick him in the stomach and send him to the floor. With the cheerfulness that was true to his personality, he got back up, dusting himself off and giving me a quick smile.

“Another win to you. You’re still just as good as yesterday.”

“Of course I am.” I replied, smirking. At this point I was one of the best swordsmen alive, even at only seventeen years old. My ego may have been large, but at least I had the skill set to back it up.

“Well, if you’re ready, how about that bet from last week? We can grab the others and do it today.” Meoris looked eager to beat me at something, so I nodded affirmation. He immediately ran off to grab a few of our other friends while I walked to the decided upon location, thinking all the while about this bet that had been made.

It was nothing more than a sunny field, really. That was all we needed. I held my sword in front of me with a smile while the others stood on the sideline. Except Meoris. Meoris held a bow and a single arrow, giving me a quick wave. I returned it to assure him I was ready, then watched as he nocked and drew back the arrow on the string, anchoring it behind his jaw and taking careful aim. I knew this was dangerous and stupid. Yet that same urge to prove that I was truly the best swordsman alive kept prodding me as my heart pounded in my chest and a drop of sweat rolled down my face. Seconds stretched out, and I chose to watch the archer instead of the arrow. This was going to be fast. Blinking could have been fatal, so I didn’t. When at last Meoris’ fingers slipped cleanly from the string, I exhaled as my sword twitched sideways. I didn’t need to think; I simply knew by instinct where the arrow was going and when I needed to move. A sound shattered the tense silence when the projectile collided with my sword, then a mixture of cheers and sighs of annoyance erupted from the small group of watchers. A grin broke across my face as I sheathed my weapon, looking at the arrow a few feet to the side of me. I’d knocked it farther away than I originally thought. Not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered here was my success. Meoris approached with his bow still in hand, his smile mirroring mine.

“You did it. That was incredible,” he said, congratulating me for a feat that I was sure very few people had managed. After all, using a sword to knock an arrow from the air isn’t exactly everyday stuff.

“Did you really expect that I’d miss? I’m not stupid enough to take bets I can’t win, especially if my life is on the line.” I shook my head. We were teenagers and not the smartest of people, but I wouldn’t have let someone shoot at me if I wasn’t confident in my chances of success.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re the best swordsman alive and all that. It’s still impressive.” He laughed, patting my shoulder as he walked by. Like everyone else, he was taller than me. I’d never really had a growth spurt, and stayed relatively short, much to my disappointment. None of the people who’d seen what I did were here to congratulate me; most of them had wanted to watch me get shot. Since the slaughtering of most of my family, I had become a mostly unpleasant person to be around, and I knew it. I had tendencies to spontaneously insult anyone I spoke to, and enough skill with a weapon that people couldn’t try to attack me over my words. Deciding to follow Meoris because I had nothing better to do, I gave a last glance towards the disappointed crowd with a smile before walking away.

The part of the city I lived in was relatively safe. My family was one of nobles, and our area was very protected along with nearly always being under construction. Most people there looked down on me for hanging around what they considered to be peasants, but I didn’t really care. As I got to the front gate and unlocked it, I let Meoris in behind me. If he was let in, it was allowed. If he’d broken in, however, he may have been killed just for that. There wasn’t any particular reason for Meoris to follow me home, but he was very interested in architecture. The greater provinces of the city tended to be more well-built, and this was the only way he’d get access to them. But as we strolled by a building mid-construction, something happened that I could only witness as if it were in slow motion, and yet could do nothing to stop.

A large white brick fell from the site of construction Meoris and I were next to. There was no reason for it to fall, as far as I could tell. Nobody was there who could have thrown it, and the structure wasn’t built in a way that it could have fallen naturally. It landed directly on the shoulder of my friend, resulting in a loud cracking noise and a grunt of pain as he went down.

“What the hell?” Rather than going to try and help him, I was looking up at the building trying to discern where the projectile had come from. I saw nothing, and looked down at where Meoris was holding onto his shoulder with his unwounded arm. It looked bad. Blood was flowing freely from it, and shards of bone were visible on the surface of the wound. Grimacing, I realized there was no way he’d get proper attention for that wound, knowing how poor he was.

“Get up. We can go back to my house and my mother will try to treat you.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll just...try not to let my arm fall off as we go.” he said through gritted teeth, obviously holding back tears of pain. I helped him to his feet and started walking again, ignoring that blood was getting all over my clothes and mostly wondering how Meoris had such a high pain tolerance.

Once we reached my home with only a few disapproving stares from other rich people, I pushed open the door with one arm and pulled Meoris in behind me. Blood was going to get on the walls and floors, but I couldn’t help that. I’d have to clean it later. I couldn’t stand the sight of dirty things and had an obsessive urge to stop and clean right there. There wasn’t time, however. My mother rushed in right at that moment, immediately grabbing some water and preparing to clean and bind the wound.

“What happened?” She paused what she was doing to look at me and check for any wounds of my own out of concern. After all, I was the only one she had left after the events of a few years ago.

“Some idiot threw a brick at him. We didn’t see who it was.”

“Great,” She sighed sarcastically, cleaning the wound and binding it while Meoris tried not to scream. It wasn’t going to heal properly, and he’d never be able to use that arm again, but at least he’d not die of blood loss. I should have been quicker and knocked the brick aside...that wasn’t possible, but it didn’t stop me from wishing I was better. I sighed and grabbed a wet cloth to start scrubbing the walls and floor, needing something to distract me from the injured friend. It didn’t take long, considering how fresh the blood stains were. Meoris was talking to my mother the whole time in the background, but I didn’t listen to what they said. It wasn’t important to me, probably.

After an hour or so, it was getting dark, and I was forced to escort Meoris to the gate of the province. He couldn’t stay here longer safely, or he’d be jumped and killed in the night. After leaving him and coming home, I was met with my mother waiting to have a conversation that she didn’t look like she was going to enjoy.

“You can’t keep doing things with that boy. He seems nice, but you know how the others around here feel about that.”

“He’s not a dog. I refuse to treat him like one.” I crossed my arms as I responded to my mother. I knew most nobles hated peasants, but I wasn’t going to be like them.

“I didn’t say he was a dog. I’m just asking you to consider what’s left of the reputation of our house.”

“Our reputation is long gone. Only a total imbecile would think we’ve got any chance of getting that back.”

“Lengin, please...” she trailed off at that, knowing I wasn’t going to be easy to convince to change my ways. Ever since my brothers and father had died, it left me as the only man of the Anguis House. Due to me also being the youngest, I was looked down upon by everyone else. The heir of the house at seventeen, to inherit it at eighteen once my mother was no longer allowed to hold stewardship.

“I can handle my relationships myself. They’re none of your business.” I tersely responded before walking off to my room.

My room was empty, unsurprisingly. Only a low to the ground bed and a mount on the wall for my sword. Everything was about my sword these days. My father’s sword. There was so much pressure on me to avenge my family, and I was going to do it eventually. I’d been practicing nonstop since I was able to hold a sword, mainly under the supervision of my uncle. He wanted me to focus on solely the weapon, which I did for the most part. There was that time I’d tamed and trained a hawk, but someone murdered it. But until I was eighteen, my uncle was my nearest male adult relative and would still have power over much of my life if he chose to use it. Maybe he was the one who’d thrown the brick. He strongly disapproved of the amount of time I spent with peasants, even if they were sometimes helpful in training. With those thoughts swirling through my head, I passed out in my bed to wait for the next day.

The next day came, and with it there was silence. That was unusual. On most days my mother would be up and working already, cleaning and preparing for the next batch of people that wanted to talk about politics or buy the house. Rather, there was nothing. Feeling in the air that something had to be off, I grabbed my sword and cautiously walked out of my room.

The first thing I saw was the blood. That shouldn’t have been there. My mother and I loved to keep things clean, and she wouldn’t tolerate that splotch on the wall. That was enough to trigger me to draw my weapon, a sinking feeling starting to grow in my chest. It only worsened when I spotted the corner of a chair leg in the kitchen. It wasn’t standing up, which triggered the same sense of wrongness.

Each step I took forward felt like an eternity. I wanted to run into the kitchen and see what had happened, but I also dreaded what I would replace. My pace was stuck at a slow walk, mind tearing itself apart with worry as I moved. When I finally reached the kitchen, I wished I hadn’t.

There was a rope hanging from the ceiling. It was one of the few times I was bothered by how luxurious my home was; the ceiling was high enough to hang a noose from. Unfortunately, it couldn’t just be a noose. My mother was hanging with her neck in the loop, eyes closed and face swollen. She wasn’t breathing. There was blood, too, scattered around the room in strange places. There were at least four visible wounds on the body of my mother and a knife on the ground next to her, but it wasn’t a hard guess to assume she’d done this to herself. I was speechless, and even when my sword slipped from my hands to clatter to the floor, I had no reaction. This time I didn’t cry. I’d already lost everyone else, and had no tears left to spend. Even the greatest swordsman alive couldn’t fight death. It was all I could do to force myself to move again, taking the corpse down and carrying it outside. There was no point in trying to set up a proper funeral; suicide victims weren’t given that honor. So, it was left to me to dig a hole behind the house and lay her to rest beneath the earth. After hours of digging, re-filling, and simply sitting in gloomy silence, I finally had the ability to stand again. I didn’t feel anything, simply...emptiness. It was time to handle the politics that were left.

It took almost a year’s worth of attending boring meetings and signing various papers with my uncle before I was able to fully claim to be the head of my house. There was an official ceremony that had to happen soon, but almost nobody was going to take that seriously. The misfortune that had struck the Anguis house was well known across the state, and it was expected that I’d be the next to die. As I walked into the domed Center of Politics, though, I planned to make it clear that I would neither be killed nor forfeit my house to anyone else.

Entering the auditorium felt like a crime. Hundreds of people were already sitting silently, and all their eyes turned to be set on me judgmentally. I didn’t slow or stop, simply heading to my designated seat. Most of the people here had shown up only out of a feeling of obligation to my parents, and felt nothing towards me but pity or contempt.

It wasn’t long before an old man showed up at the front, wispy beard trailing down to his waist as he called out my name. For someone as old as he, it was impressive how powerful his voice was.

“Lengin Anguis.”

At that, I stood once again. I’d seen only one of these ceremonies conducted before, and I despised it. It was far too formal, and somehow still felt disgusting. With me I carried the official mask representing my house. It was forged to look as if the wearer’s head was being constricted by countless silver snakes with a single gold one crowning it. This was the mask my father had worn as he died, and today would be the first time I put it on. I was torn out of my thoughts as the same old voice echoed once more.

“Today you become the head of the Anguis house. Those around and before you will now become a part of you. Rise and bring blood.” He said dramatically. That was an old line they’d used in this situation for centuries. Its meaning was also very well known, and everyone in the room knew it.

Seventeen other men in the room stood at the call to bring blood, travelling to the front one by one. Each held a knife in one hand and kept a stony expression. As expected of me, I held forth the mask that was now mine in both hands, purple eyes fixed on the first of the seventeen to approach. I gave him a firm nod as he suddenly sliced a line across his palm, dripping blood straight into the offered mask. A symbol of his house’s alliance to mine, and an agreement never to truly war against each other. I was fine with that. The part I hated came later, after the head of each house had given blood. Breathing deeply and closing my eyes, I pulled the mask onto my face.

It was more like a helmet than a mask. I could feel it surrounding most of my head, almost suffocating me in the thick stench of blood. The red liquid was running across my entire face and down my neck; it congealed in my dark hair and made me want to vomit. I couldn’t do that, though. I was to remain still for three minutes, at which point I could finally remove the mask. They were undoubtedly three of the most uncomfortable minutes of my life, although not the worst. That title would go to the times I had watched my siblings and parents die before my eyes. Finally, the time was up, and I ripped the metallic mask from my face and stood gasping and covered in blood. The audience applauded; it was simply polite to clap. It was also incredibly rare that someone as young as I ascend to become the head of a house, although it could be argued that the sheer amount of misfortunate that had struck me was also incredibly rare. The ceremony couldn’t just end there, though. Next thing I knew, they were bringing out the vase containing the ashes of my father.

Generally, at this point in the ceremony the ashes would be poured over me, symbolizing a sameness between us. But I didn’t want to be the same as him. As much as I admired and loved my father, he had been overly devoted to his work and politics. And he was dead. I was going to be none of those. While it was our custom to pour the ashes in such a way, I found it disrespectful to the dead man as well. So while they prepared that and began asking questions, I was already in the process of planning a way around it.

“As the head of your house, you now have complete control over your property, your father’s legacy, and the information related to him. If you do not wish to claim this, it can be passed on to another in this room.” Came the old man’s voice again, trying to make it sound as if giving away my inheritance was somehow an enticing offer. He probably thought I was too young for this.

“I’ll claim it.” I responded quickly and firmly, leaving no room for proposals or arguments. People were surely going to try and convince me to give away my property, but I didn’t want that. I needed somewhere to live, after all.

“Noted…then the pouring of the ash can begin.”

“No.” Shaking my head, I made it clear in one word that I wasn’t going to tolerate that. There were a few audible gasps and a lot of sharp glares, but I repeated my standing.

“We aren’t going to pour what’s left of my father onto me. That’s final. It’s going to be buried next to my mother,” I kept going, “And that’s not arguable.”

“That goes against all of our traditions. You know this, Lengin.”

“I don’t really care. Your traditions are idiotic, and the blood was more than enough.” I hated that one as well, yet I’d tolerated it. The only one disrespected by that was myself. This ash pouring disrespected my father, which I would not stand for. The room turned into a silent standoff of glares and annoyance, but eventually I ended it. I grabbed the vase with both hands and turned away, walking rapidly towards the exit with countless eyes following me. I didn’t care, and I didn’t need their approval.

On the outside of the building was Meoris. I didn’t know how he’d gotten this far into the higher province alone, but I appreciated his presence. His arm was still hanging limp at his side, even with all the time that’d passed since that accident. It was never going to be fully healed, and he was never going to have the career he wanted. It’s impossible to fight successfully in an army with only one arm, after all.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped at him, still annoyed at all the men and women within the building behind me. None had followed out the door, but I could easily guess that there was an uproar about my behavior in there.

“I heard today was your ascension and thought I might come see it. Didn’t go well?”

“Obviously not.” I was covered in blood and not ash, so even Meoris could probably guess I’d done something most would consider to be stupid.

“Thought it might happen that way.” He sighed, “Well. What are you gonna do now?”

“The same thing I’ve been doing.” I replied. Now that I didn’t have to take care of my mother, I was able to spend as much time as I wanted on training and hunting the man who had slaughtered my family. I was only met with concern from my friend, though.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re going to get yourself killed chasing after that man.”

“You don’t think I’ll be able to beat him?”

“I don’t think you’ll be satisfied if you do.” Meoris held eye contact with me as he said that, probably wanting to say more but being cut off as I walked away. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say anymore. It didn’t apply to me.

As I had said I would, I buried the ashes at the side of my mother in the backyard of my home. I’d helped do the same for each of my brothers years ago, because only the head of the house was honored with cremation. Kneeling next to this sixth grave, I wondered again how this was even possible. And to spit in my face after it all, the man responsible for each of the deaths was still alive. I was sure of it. So many years had gone by, and I’d still failed to fulfill my oath that I’d kill him. Hell, I’d not even seen him. The mask he wore was the clearest image in my brain, and I’d recognize it anywhere. With a sigh, I forced myself to leave the graves behind with held-back tears and walked away. I had a house to clean and a murderer to hunt.

After fully scrubbing the house and making sure everything looked nice and neat, I decided to go replace my uncle. Now that I was officially the head of the Anguis house, he didn’t have any power over me. Still, he had taught me how to use a sword, and I didn’t know anyone else I could ask to watch the house while I was gone.

It took less than I expected to locate the man. He was right outside the front gate of my property, about to enter. Presumably he was here to discuss what I’d done in the Center of Politics, but I spoke before he did to avoid giving him that chance.

“I’m leaving to search other cities. I need you to make sure nobody tears down the house while I’m gone.” I crossed my arms, staring up at my uncle. He was much taller than me, but that didn’t mean I was any less confident.

“Not even going to say hello?” he chuckled lightly, “And I thought you’d have more respect for your dear uncle.”

“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes, “Hello. Happy now?”

“Very. Now, why are you leaving? And how long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“You know why I’m leaving, idiot. And I’ll be out for however long it takes.” I’d told him about my goals long ago, and he knew just as well as I did that I wasn’t one to give up.

“You’re even more grumpy than usual today…I’ll watch the house. Just tell me where you’re headed first, so I can come get you out of trouble after you replace yourself in prison.” He said calmly, making it impossible to tell if he was serious or not

“I’m going to Umbriel.” That was all I told him as I walked out the gate, not wanting to deal with my uncle even though he’d done nothing wrong.