Chapter 17: Too much responsibility to allow myself to daydream.
*Year 1544, one week after Daemon’s banishment.*
At that time, the clans of Hundun no longer fought openly as they had in the past. However, tension and rivalry remained constant between the great families.
But for several years, the attention of all the clans had turned toward the No Man’s Land. Expeditions were regularly organized to penetrate this hostile territory, but none had ever borne fruit.
To learn more about this cursed territory, a delegation of clans decided to visit a remote people settled in the heart of the desert: the Yak tribe.
According to the official history of Hundun, this tribe had always inhabited the No Man’s Land. They had come to settle on the arid lands less than five hundred years ago. No one really knew why or how. The clans were very suspicious because they had no proof that the Yak were not Eaters in disguise. Yet they looked like normal humans, with one detail: their extraordinary resistance to the desert heat and deprivation. Where an ordinary man would die in a few days, a Yak could survive for weeks without water and months with a minimum of food.
The clans’ delegation included representatives of the most powerful clans: the Spear Clan, the Sword Clan, the Magic Clan, the Alchemy Clan, the Venom Clan, and several others. They had come in peace, with gifts and offerings. In exchange, they wanted information on the Eaters and the No Man’s Land.
Kristian, only twelve years old at the time, was logically part of the delegation as the heir of the Sword Clan. It was an honor, a responsibility he should have carried with pride. But he did not want to take Daemon’s place.
His cousin had been banished a week earlier, stripped of his title, chased from the Winter Domain like a mangy dog. Kristian did not understand why and had decided to get himself punished too.
At the time, he believed that Daemon had been banished because of his bad behavior. So he, who was always well-behaved, decided to do the unthinkable.
He ventured alone into the desert. A sandstorm suddenly rose, and Kristian fell into a moving dune.
He thought he was going to die.
It was at that moment that a silhouette grabbed him by the arm. With fluid jumps, movements that recalled those of a snake, she pulled him out of the quicksand and carried him to the top of a canyon.
"The blazon of the Sword Clan?" said an annoyed feminine voice. "What are you doing here, kid?"
Kristian spat the sand from his mouth. "I am not a kid. My name is Kristian Dagon."
The girl was a head taller than him. She was dressed in loose clothing made of beige canvas that protected her from the sun. A veil covered the lower part of her face, leaving only her eyes visible. Eyes red like rubies.
"You almost died." she said in a neutral voice.
"It was not the goal... I just wanted to run away..."
The girl looked at him strangely. She sat down in front of him, legs crossed, and took out a small package from her pocket. She unwrapped it and took out a cookie.
"Eat." she said, holding it out to him.
Kristian shook his head. "I do not like sugar."
"I do not care." She pushed the cake into his hand. "You are as white as a sheet. If you do not eat, you will faint from lack of energy, and I am not going to carry you on my back."
"Why did you want to run away?" asked the girl.
Kristian remained silent for a long moment.
"My cousin was banished." he said finally. "And I took his place as heir, plus his father is dead... I think he is suffering and I feel guilty."
"So you wanted to get yourself punished to share his burden?"
"Yes."
The girl nodded slowly. "You are an idiot." she said.
Kristian raised his head. "What?"
"A banishment is not as simple as it seems, there must be other reasons... And your cousin, if you really want to help him. You must be strong... Strong enough to challenge his banishment."
Kristian thought about her words. "Do you think I can become strong?"
"What I believe does not matter. What matters is that you always do your maximum to achieve it."
They stayed seated there, talking for hours. The girl told him about the desert, the starry nights, the hidden oases. Kristian told her about the Sword Clan, the training, the Senses, his father’s ambitions.
When the sun began to descend on the horizon, the girl stood up.
"Well, I think I am going to go... My father must really be in a bad mood..."
Kristian nodded: "Uh... What is your name?"
"My name is Andromeda." she said.
"Andromeda." repeated Kristian. "It is an uncommon name."
She did not answer. She turned her back on him and jumped from the edge of the canyon, disappearing into the desert.
Kristian remained alone.
He did not yet know that he would never see Andromeda again. He did not know that this delegation, which he believed to be a peace mission, was in reality only a pretext. The clans had not come to discuss or exchange information. They had come to destroy.
The Yak tribe was annihilated that night. Men, women, children. All massacred. All except perhaps one....
***
*Present, Sword Clan, seven years later.*
Kristian woke up with a start from his bed.
He looked at the moon through the window for a few seconds to calm the beating of his heart.
He had been dreaming of that day a lot lately. And it made him very uneasy and guilty.
The Sword Clan had participated in destroying Andromeda’s entire family.
Kristian often wondered if she had survived. He hoped so... But he knew it was unlikely.
And yet, those ruby eyes he had seen while pursuing Blood Moon that night a few months ago...
’No, impossible,’ he thought as he got out of bed. "She is dead... I am just imagining things."
He sat on the edge of his bed.
’If I have time to daydream, that means I am not exhausted enough,’ he thought. "I should train more."
He suddenly remembered what Andromeda had told him that day in the desert. "If you want to have a chance to correct the inequalities of this world, you must be powerful enough to deter anyone."
He stood up.
"I must become strong enough to unblock Daemon’s chi core."
He crossed the room and grabbed his two swords leaning against the wall.
The courtyard of the Sword Clan’s main domain was immense and the moon shone faintly. He had too much responsibility on his shoulders to allow himself to daydream.
Kristian drew his two swords and began training in the coolness of the night.