Kryiakos slammed his shield down, his height unmatched, towards Astegur’s head. Astegur swung his other axe upward, stopping the shield before it made contact. He jerked back and right, shifting his weight to his left foot as Kryiakos kicked his front right leg out, missing him by a whisper of distance. Before the centaur’s leg touched the ground, Astegur twisted to the right side and pressed forward, rolling along the general’s side and slashing at the armor draped there, testing its resilience. His axe caught in its straps, halting his movement just long enough for the centaur to catch him with a back kick.
The smoke in his belly burst out of him as he stumbled away. Astegur bent forward from the brutal kick, but recovered and straightened as Kryiakos swerved to face him.
“Is that all you are able to do,pest?”
Astegur gritted his teeth and rolled his axes in his hands, adjusting his grip. He forced a pained smile back to his lips. “Try again and see.”
Kryiakos thrust his spearhead forward, and their weapons met again. This time, when his shield came down to stun Astegur, he caught it in his horns and twisted in a circle, yanking the piece right out of the centaur’s grip. His gaze blurred from the impact, but he felt the shield fall down his back and splash in the water at his hooves.
The jeers of their onlookers filled his ears just as another surge of pain filled his body before he could dodge away from Kryiakos. Startled, Astegur stumbled away as pain engulfed his torso and arm.
He looked down to see that there was a deep gash down his collarbone and over his left bicep where Kryiakos had caught him with his spearhead. His left arm was partially limp. Astegur saw the flaming weapon move away for another stab.
He dropped his secondary axe and dodged as Kryiakos swept his weapon outward in his direction again.
Astegur caught the spear with his horns and twisted again. The centaur yanked his weapon back before he was disarmed completely. They disengaged and Astegur re-braced himself, spreading his hooves apart, panting out. His left arm grew heavier by the second.
“Are you willing to die here, general?” Astegur asked. “For an insult my brother made upon your people?”
“I am not the one in threat of dying.” Kryiakos flicked out his spear. “Even if you happen to fell me, you cannot take on the rest of my warriors here and live to tell the tale.”
“We would make great allies.”
“That time has come and passed.”
Astegur lips rose back up into a smile. He clenched his left hand and tensed his bloody, partially cauterized arm, taking in the strength of the pain inflicted upon him. Each battle needed a scar to remember it by. “The Bathyr will avenge my death.”
Kryiakos cackled. “Then we will wait for them on the battlefield so they can fall as quickly as you. As quickly as the first of your kin I encountered. We struck him to the ground in one sure hit and took him captive to satisfy our leader’s anger.”
What?Astegur drew back, confused by the centaur’s words, but swiftly dodged to the side as Kryiakos’s spear came slashing out at him again.He has taken my brother?Their weapons met once more as the centaur swiveled to keep Astegur in front of him. He had no time to inquire further about his brother when a barrage of strikes came at him again and again. Astegur continued to move to either side of Kryiakos, disorienting the centaur. The hollers of the other centaurs grew quiet as the heat of battle grew.
The mist closed in, drawn to the spilled blood.
He waited for Kryiakos to stab at him again, this time rolling forward before the weapon hit home. Astegur thrust his horns upward, and as he’d hoped, the centaur reared up on his back legs to avoid them. Astegur stopped mid thrust and instead grabbed Kryiakos back leg with his left hand and twisted it. The centaur screamed and buckled. Astegur kept his grip tight as his opponent tried to dislodge him, scraping the tips of his horns along Kryiakos back haunch, meeting skin where the armor was tied to the horse.
Blood rushed down his horns as Astegur lost his grip, jarred by another kick from the war general, but in Kryiakos’s quest to dislodge him, Astegur grabbed the horsebeast’s tail with his free hand and slammed the sharp edge of his axe down with the other, cleaving it off at the root.
Kryiakos screamed again, catching Astegur with his next back kick, dislodging him from his body. They separated from one another, panting, wounded. Astegur threw Kryiakos’s tail into the mud at his side as the horsebeast stumbled around to meet him head-on.
“You will pay for that!” Kryiakos roared. “Attack the temple and bring me the mist witch cunt! This battle has stirred my blood, but it will be over soon enough.”
Astegur surged forward again before Kryiakos could finish the command and struck him hard in the chest with his axe and horns, using the momentum to break through the chainmail and leather draped there. Kryiakos kicked at him again, but this time Astegur was prepared. He grabbed the beast’s armor and jumped up before the centaur’s hooves could make contact. Kryiakos fell forward from the weight, and Astegur hauled himself fully onto Kryiakos’s back.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the centaurs who had managed to break through Prayer’s barrier rush up the temple steps. Kryiakos climbed back to his hooves and reared up to dislodge him again, but Astegur held on tight, bringing his axe head down again and again. After the third try from his opponent to extricate himself from the bull riding him, he fell hard to the side and rolled on his back into the swamp, trapping Astegur beneath him.
Astegur released his grip on the centaur and wrenched his eyes closed before the swamp water blinded him. He felt Kryiakos roll off him and begin to rise to his hooves.
He quickly climbed out from the mud and released the pent-up fire from his gut.
Flames exploded out of him, searing hot, as he breathed his rage all over Kryiakos’s form. They roared in unison as the stench of cooked meat and burning hide filled the air.
The other centaurs off to the sides yelled with them, creating a horrible chorus. Kryiakos’s spearhead pierced through the fire blinding them both and stabbed Astegur in the chest. Astegur grunted, his mouth closing, his fire fading back into his body. The centaur yanked the spear out, and blood gushed as Astegur stumbled back, falling to his knees. Water splashed around him.
He dropped his weapon and pressed his hand over the deep wound, trying to stop the rest of his blood from pooling out of him. His vision blurred as he fell backwards. The tepid muck slurped up his skin and cushioned his descent.
He exhaled and blinked out the wet glare in his eyes, staring upward through the thick smoke above him and the mist that began to seep its way back into Prayer to gather around his wounds.
Then a hollowness came, and a powerful pressure quieted everything around him. He could no longer hear the centaurs still clawing their way through the barrier or those attacking the barricade to the temple.
