Amidst the sandstorm, Daiden noticed an erratic lapse in aeter control. His body felt heavier, almost as if drained of strength. He checked his fingers, then toes, succumbing to an odd sense of laziness. With a quick shake, he slapped his cheeks with both hands and retrieved his Heavy Iron Sword. His eyes followed the silhouette and the occasional attack as well. He pounded his chest with his free arm and traced to the source of his aeter. With a deep breath, Daiden quietly tugged at his aeter in slivers and threads. He knitted them together with delicate control, while dedicating his eyes and ears to keeping the Sand King in check.
Daiden formed a small sphere at his aeter source and urged it into rotation, faster but at a cautious pace. His aeter calmed in its presence and moved to make the sphere bigger, altering in form with its increasing volume. At its peak, he willed the aura – in an outline – to the surface. He swiped his sword and forced a portion to thin away as a radar. He waited for a reaction as the sand hastened around him, but crumpled in expression instead, failing in every attempt. He reeled his aeter, battling against the sandstorm’s interference, towards his feet next.
With a tilt, Daiden raised his head skywards and squatted. “Stay calm. Stay calm. What’s the worst that could happen?” He felt the aeter strengthen his calves and knees, to a jump that forced him out of the sandstorm and into the sky. He willed past the thick sand at first, watching as the layers thinned to a clear blue and patches of white in clouds. With his sword raised, he launched a frenzy of projectiles covering the area of the sandstorm. Daiden held his breath and rushed his arm at a blinding speed, slashing with enough force to stay afloat and on the offensive.
As the dust cleared, Daiden descended at a slow pace to notice nothing. His eyes searched the area in haste, until an explosion drew him from his focus. He turned to find the Sand King emerge, mounted atop a larger than normal Sand Spider. Daiden parried against the impact, but plummeted onto the ground, nonetheless. He experienced a dull pain around his chest, his mind in a rattle. But in that moment, a familiar light veiled him in an embrace, allowing him to shake away from his shackles and rise once more.
“It’s been a while since I benefited from this…” whispered Daiden, under his breath. “Thank you, God Ehedus. I can’t say this enough!”
At a loud screech, Daiden turned his head away. He gulped and slowly settled his eyes onto the Sand King, a humanoid arachnid, seated with two limbs as feet and three on either side as arms. The Monarch’s lowest two pairs of arms handled the reins with comfort. Daiden moved his eyes to the weapon next, held to the right on its highest pair – a greatsword with a grainy, brown texture on the blade.
“Not as ugly as the Chrun’s Descendant, but still quite there,” thought Daiden, feeling a little repulsed. “Again, what’s the worst that could happen?”
The Monarch pointed his weapon at Daiden, twisting its jaws to a weird, toothy grin. The sand rattled, collecting to form a protrusion and then a pillar. With a buzz, it swarmed in the air to take the shape of a sword and launched onto its target. Daiden gulped and leapt backwards, with his eyes trained on the aeter-made sword. In a tilt, he observed the blade point to a sharp angle and knelt to an extreme, taking a sprinter’s position. With his head slightly raised, Daiden pressed his chin to the ground and rushed his aeter to the tip of his toes. He burst into action with the sword at a hair’s breadth from his back.
Daiden buckled from a slight scratch on his armour, but forced past the pain and towards the large Sand Spider. He felt a change in that moment, in his anxiety. It lifted from his chest, freeing his footwork to mirror a fish against currents. He moved with lighter steps and with a burning passion.
“This…this feels right!” thought Daiden, excitedly. In a quick flash, he drowned in the memories of his past, his competitions, his triumphs, his setbacks, and his conquests. It didn’t shape an ordinary person, just as his coach had often reminded him. To stand as unordinary, to leave a generational mark, nothing motivated him more than that. And in that moment, Daiden grinned back at the Monarch as well.
“Roland was right!” whispered Daiden, under his breath. His eyes flickered with a small spark, jade in colour. It erupted to douse his body in a fiery aura. His body strengthened in effect. He slashed at one of the Sand Spider’s limbs, but managed no further than a few inches, lacking the strength to follow through with a clean cut. He forced his sword free and dodged a couple of quick attacks from the opposition.
Daiden stumbled when the sand sunk in swirls to trap his ankles. He struggled to pull away from the aeter-controlled sand trap and noticed the Monarch in a smile, still. He returned the smile and stabbed at the ground in front of him, injecting his aeter to disarm the trap. His chest heaved from the effort, his mouth wide open, gasping for air. He shielded his eyes from the sun and pointed at the Sand King, mouthing the words, ‘I’m coming, I’m coming for you!’
“Repetition despite failure, repetition until your arms fall apart…” whispered Daiden, lost in another memory. “Just like with the pommel horse…balance, strength, rotation…technique.”
[Jade Serpent’s Breath]Daiden felt his aura surge, to carry him past the pain and into combat. His eyes teared from the strain, striking once more at the limb he had previously attacked. He swung his sword at the exact angle and dug a little deeper this time. He evaded the attacks that followed, failing in some, and denting his armour in others. With angled and precise footsteps, Daiden managed to lessen the impact from the Sand Spider, ensuring at least the durability of his armour. His third attack forced a screech from the Monarch’s mount, and his fourth cut the limb clean, causing the creature to fall on one side.
“All it took was an adventure that might kill me…” said Daiden, between breaths, bruised and bloodied. He sang the words with joy. “Just as Roland had called it. I may have to hide it. But I know it. Here I stand, a descendant of a myth, the only descendant of Takshaka.”
Daiden pounded his chest and straightened his back, watching the Natural Monarch steady his crown from the tumble. But there was a difference this time, on the Sand King’s face.
“Ah, Great King…” sang Daiden, loudly. “Why do you smile no longer?”
