Book 4, Chapter 101 - A Torn Sleeve

The old drunk’s wounds had festered within him for years . Although he’d come upon a way to return some of his strength, he was weakening on a cellular level . All of the strength he’d trained so hard to cultivate was running out . Years in the wastes chasing the bottom of a bottle didn’t help, and things only turned around when he found Woodland Vale .

The Shepherd G.o.d’s medicines were miraculous .

Autumn had given him the priceless herbs, which helped breathe a second life into the drunk’s body . But the damage was already done, too extensive to repair . Even with the medicine, it was like a few sprouts on a dead trunk . There was no bringing the tree back, no matter how mighty it was had been . If he relinquished himself to the indignity of a drunkard’s life, he had maybe ten more years left .

He’d much rather draw on what remained, so that he could go out in a blaze of glory .

Strength, or years of drunken regret . He chose the former .

 He reached into the depths of his vitality, siphoning it into power . His weakened body swelled as limits were torn down . The price of over-drafting his potential was dire, likely resulting in just a brief flare before his fire extinguished .

Moments was all it took for the War Saint to return to his former glory . He knew his body, knew that now he had only a year of life left in him at most .

Over the course of that year his body would gradually start to fail him . His legs would refuse to carry his weight . His hands would lose all strength . In the end he would die, paralyzed in a bed somewhere . But he wasn’t going to wait for that . There was nothing to regret leaving behind, no worries to keep him hanging on . All that was left was a single old scar to itch . Might as well deal with it while he could . It was time to finish the battle long left undone .

He felt his palms sweating . His sword hand trembled .

But it wasn’t because he was weak . Even after all he’d experienced, after years of bitter enlightenment, Vulkan found that he could not face this man with calm detachment . His failure years ago still haunted him, its roots reaching deep into his soul . After so long the pain of it never eased, only grew more entrenched .

It was time, though . Even if Arcturus hadn’t shown himself, Vulkan would have gone searching . What pride remained in his withered body would have demanded it, for a true warrior never loses the courage to draw his sword when needed .

This final fight with Arcturus Cloude was predestined . It wasn’t to win vengeance for his disciple, or to rinse the taste of shame from his mouth . This fight wasn’t even against Arcturus, but against himself .  

Cloudhawk could understand the old man’s heart .

But he could not leave, even knowing what was happening . On the one hand, Cloudhawk wasn’t even sure he could . Arcturus had shown that his reach stretched far beyond a normal man . Wounded and spent, he couldn’t escape the Governor’s sphere of influence before he had time to react . On the other hand, Cloudhawk couldn’t stomach letting someone else die so he could run with his tail between his legs, especially this old man .

The drunk frowned at him . “You’re still here?”

“I’m not leaving . I’m not sure I can help . . . ” Cloudhawk tightened his grip around Ardent Wrath . “But I will at least bear witness . ”

There was a measure of appreciation in Arcturus’ stare as he watched the old man . It caused wrinkled to gather at the corner of his eyes . “You were always a remarkable warrior, even more so than Skye . Unfortunately, you were born at the wrong time, in the wrong place . A pity . ”

Arcturus’ sympathy earned loud laughter from the drunk . Joints popped and muscles creaked as his withered form transformed . Before their eyes the drunk melted away, replaced with a towering and imposing warrior . Even his rheumy eyes gleamed, sharp and clear . As calloused hands wrapped around Dawnguard, for a moment the ghost of the former War Saint was visible in the weather-beaten body of this old drunk .

“Enough talk . Fight!”

“You have my respect . For that, you will have three attempts . ”

Arcturus motioned for Vulkan to make his move .

That was an insult, no sign of respect! In a test of combat like this, an inch was a mile – the slightest error could mean crus.h.i.+ng defeat . Giving the old man three free shots was a flagrant display of Arcturus’ confidence in himself, and how little he thought of the former War Saint .  

“Hahaha! There aren’t many in the world Master Arcturus gives such an honor to!” Vulkan wasn’t offended . In fact, he took it well . “I won’t turn it down . ”

He threw the dirt-smeared wine bottle aside . Dawnguard gleamed in his hand as he pulled it free .

Blinding light poured off the blade . As it was drawn from within the cane inch by inch, the rays from it gave the impression of the rising sun . It was a vision of power and vitality .

A sunrise was always inevitably followed by a sunset . A cold night followed, but eventually the warm light of the sun returned .

A man’s life was like the cycles of the sun . He rose and fell, suffering cold and lonely nights and brilliant s.h.i.+ning zeniths . Each time darkness fell it brought promise of new splendor . The brightest days would then lead into the darkest nights . Back, and forth . Soaring highs, and profound lows . Was this not the life of the old drunk?

The first strike .

A half-arc, lengthwise toward Arcturus’ chest .

Even the air warped in protest as the sword superseded its dominion .

Arcturus brushed it away with his hand, without a second thought . Vulkan’s mighty blow was knocked aside . Stones nearby broke apart like a hot knife through b.u.t.ter, merely for being close .

Cloudhawk gaped at the scene . “s.h.i.+t!”

A blow like that against the Crimson One would absolutely have caused serious damage . Yet to Arcturus, it was as threatening as a speck of dust landing on his robes .

Cloudhawk didn’t even know if he was using a relic . The Governor’s mental prowess was so grand normal people couldn’t even comprehend it .

“Your first strike lacks the strength of your former years . ”

The drunk wasn’t perturbed by Arcturus’ flippant stance . He didn’t even pause before las.h.i.+ng out again with his second attempt .

It was a strike that contained all the glory and decadence of the old drunk’s style . He was a man who had experienced all the vicissitudes of life, its fortunes and follies . Confusion, despair, and ultimately understanding and acceptance .

Years ago, his dream had been to become a man like Skye Polaris . He wanted to be better than the great General .

Looking back on it now the dream was a foolish one . Vulkan was his own man, in a cla.s.s by himself . Why did he want to be Skye, much less a better Skye? The only real goal was to become the best version of yourself .

He realized that late in his life, but not too late .

The glory of the War Saint s.h.i.+ned through in the drunk’s attack, but he was different now compared to when he was at his peak . It possessed the enlightenment of a man who had come out on the other side of great hards.h.i.+ps . Vulkan was more mature and determined than he had been all those years ago .

Cloudhawk raised his head in shock . The dismal clouds above were being moved by some unseen force, cleaved apart to reveal a swath of clear blue sky .

Meanwhile, the ground in the path of Vulkan’s hacking strike collapsed under its weight .

The old drunk’s sword literally attempted to carve through heaven and earth . Power rippled from it like a roaring flood of dragons, ripping teeth and tearing claws aimed toward Arcturus . It was clear his second attempt was a far sight more powerful than the first .

Cloudhawk was forced to ask himself if he was in Arcturus’ position, could he survive? He didn’t think so . He didn’t even think he could dodge it . h.e.l.l, probably none of Skycloud’s new generation of rising stars could – not even Selene with her legendary relics . Vulkan’s strike rose beyond typical mortal constraints . This blow could carve apart both G.o.ds and demons!

It had to be enough to behead a Master Demonhunter!

Bolts of lightning sprang up around Arcturus . They weaved together forming into a net between him and Vulkan’s second attempt .

BOOM!

To Cloudhawk it felt someone had taken a hammer to his brain . His ears were ringing, and the whole world lost all vibrance and color . It lasted a good four or five seconds before he could recover . He shook his head and the world pieced itself back together like a broken mirror in reverse .

The ground was a ruin . It looked like an earthquake had rumbled through and toppled the nearby mountains .

What a terrifying attack!

When the dust settled Arcturus was standing in the same spot . His robes were blowing in the tumultuous wind, but that was all . Nothing had touched him but a strong breeze . When it pa.s.sed, it was like nothing had happened . Even his hair was left unmolested .

“That is about equal to what I remember . ”

For the second time Arcturus offered his tepid evaluation . Vulkan turned a deaf ear to it . He cared only for what he was feeling, to his own internal monologue . He saw this battle as his last . His next strike would be the final one of his life .

What would it be? Something incredible, to be sure!

Vulkan’s mind was completely blank . All his bustling thoughts and worries and concerns faded away to stillness . Time washed it all away, like pa.s.sing clouds or smoke on the wind . The only thing that remained in that sea of perfect calm was a beautiful, smiling face .

That smile was his heaven . A heaven he would never see again .

Vulkan’s third strike returned to simplicity .

The old drunk rose off the ground . His sword began a thin line, forging ahead with indomitable will . While unadorned, the force behind it pierced through Arcturus’ electric net . Finally, its deadly light reflected in the Governor’s eyes .

For the first time, the Master Demonhunter looked serious . He reached out to defend .

Vulkan thrust with incredible speed, too fast to follow . The sound of something ripping could be heard among the rumbling thunder, and a piece of simple gray cloth floated up on the breeze . One piece became two, became four, became eight… and then dust .

The sleeve of Arcturus right arm was missing a piece . It was all Vulkan’s strike had accomplished .

Cloudhawk had always known Arcturus was strong . He’d even figured the other two Master Demonhunters together weren’t a shoe-in to beat him . But this… this was beyond anything he could imagine . It was unthinkable that Arcturus Cloude could be this strong…

Vulkan had poured all of his strength into that blow, knowing full well he stood at death’s door . All that he had learned and experienced in life had been behind it . His considerable mental powers tempered it . At was a nearly perfect display, a masterful thrust, resulting in a single tear on his foe’s sleeve .

“With that, you have surpa.s.sed your former glory!”

Arcturus calmly looked at the ripped cloth . He looked back, esteem in his level gaze .

It is not easy for a man to rise back up after reaching rock bottom . One who could return from ruin and walk the paths of his former glory was outstanding . But one who could scale and surpa.s.s those peaks – that was heroic .  

This old drunk was a greater man now than he was in his peak . He was a true and mighty challenger, worthy of respect .

“You’ve had your three strikes . ” Lightning crackled in Arcturus’ palm . There it gathered, forming into a weapon four feet long . “My turn . ”

“Ruin, the Thunderblade . ” Vulkan stared at the living lightning held in Arcturus’ hand . A smile curled the corner of his lips . “Now that the Master Demonhunter has shown me his true power, I can die with no regrets . The ups and downs of a man’s life are one h.e.l.l of a story, ahahahaha!”

Arcturus slowly raised the thunderblade . It burned, like a G.o.d bearing a bolt of divine judgment .

It was clear . No man alive could survive a blow from this weapon .

Vulkan lifted his sword to protect himself, but it was destroyed in an instant . Ruin’s harsh blue light was headed right for him .

Six years ago he suffered a spectacular defeat . Six years later, nothing had changed .

Ruin was Skycloud’s single most devastating weapon, even more terrible than Selene’s crossblade of holy light . Once, it had belonged to the G.o.d King, and no relic in existence could withstand its fury . Vulkan was doomed the instant its light shown upon him .

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