Draco screamed in agony as his brother's blade pushed through his abdomen, then an equally loud roar pummeled into his ear drum as he repeated the action to Jerosh. The elder Signa pulled the Daedalak out from his body and kicked Draco backwards, sending him into a tumble. He slid across the ground momentarily, sluggishly lifting himself up to his his elbows and knees. He was completely drained… the only thing he relied on now was his will to win. The only thing that kept Jerosh going was his familiarity of his situation, and his resolve to push his brother to the very end.
Their brothers, still battered and exhausted, watched from the sidelines again. Fermot and Jaqeluu had done their best to patch up their wounds, but they would need to see a healer with energy. Each of them were still drained from their fight the day before, and needed medical attention desperately, but still waited for the epic battle to end. They didn't expect their youngest brother to survive this long after defeating each of them, but it was just another testament to his devotion. They watched as the two sloppily get into their stances, both breathing hoarsely.
They were both ready to drop. The brothers were sure that Jerosh was having the time of his life. His smile gave away as much. And aside from his determination to win, they could see Draco was having just as much fun. It only proved not only his Signa blood, but his Almonshuor blood.
"He's going to be one of the greater Makti," Derekosh chuckled, clutching his side in pain.
"How can you know that?" Agner asked, rubbing the side of his head gingerly. "It's just a fight."
"Our families are based on our skill as warriors," Jaqeluu reminded Agner. "Herod was a legendary fighter. And he managed to wipe several systems clean of the horde."
"Reku'un led a war as a youngling," Fermot chuckled. "He's thousands of times stronger, and now he'll be facing a force thousands of times larger. He's going to be ready… and he'll lead us better than any Makti. He'll be greater than Herod… I know it."
They looked back as the two weakly yelled and started attacking once more. They slashed lethargically at each other, letting out a final surge of energy through their blades. Draco ducked under a slash and elbowed Jerosh in the face, staggering him as he rushed under his arms for a tackle. Once his brother was down, he started to punch him as viciously as he could, his movements slow from how tired he was. Jerosh deflected a strike and grabbed his brother's head before smashing their skulls together.
The sudden hit dazed Draco, and the tables turned as Jerosh grabbed his blade and the Daedalak. He kicked his brother, causing him to fall back. Jerosh forced himself to stand, ignoring his broken nose and swollen cheek. Draco struggled to stand back up, and Jerosh kicked him in the head to make sure he kept on the ground. With a twirl of the blades in his hands, he raised both swords above his head then stabbed them both into his brother.
Moon's POV
I was in the middle of telling an old story from when I was 567. A story about me leading several packs to take down a berserk carrier dragon. That's when I felt something… wrong. Well, it was more like I couldn't feel something at all, but I knew that was a bad sign. I just… couldn't understand what it was that was making me feel this way. It was… deeply concerning me.
"Midnight?" Orgos questioned, snapping his finger. "Are you alright? Midnight."
"Midnight," Niraka said loudly, shaking me. I gasped as I looked around the table, then saw the looks of concern turn to surprise.
"What's wrong?" I questioned.
The others kept silent for a while, but finally turned their attention back to me. "You… felt it before us?" Inagro slowly asked.
"The… the Doshu'um…" Hutono murmured.
I now knew what was it I felt. I'd felt my cousin's energy drop out of my senses. "He… he's fine, yes?" I asked them. "What does this mean?"
Inagro rubbed his head softly, then turned to me. "He… he's… Reku'un has been defeated."
The Alamonshuor brothers waited… they waited for their brother to move… but the only movement his body made was making the metals recede. The metals creeped into the openings in his body, then disappeared from his form completely. Jerosh quickly pulled the swords out and Jaqeluu picked him up.
"Fermot! Get the healer ready!" He shouted. Fermot nodded, straining as he forced a small bit of energy to transport him out of the room. "Come!"
They sprinted out of the destroyed training chamber, forcing their tired bodies to exert just a bit more. Inside the elevator, they dialed in a code that caused them to shoot back down into the ship. They practically smashed the door apart as they rushed to the medical bay. Nimani had already prepped the machines. Jaqeluu set his youngest brother down, collapsing as he felt his legs buckle. Derekosh leaned against the wall and grunted in pain, Fermot falling as he clutched his head.
Nimani placed her hand on a panel beside the door. "I need a group of healers here, now!" She ordered. "The Alamonshuor brothers need help!"
She placed her hands over Draco's wounds, her energy working to heal him. Nimani strained her energy over his entire body, trying to stop him from bleeding out. The cuts and gashes in his body had already wept a considerable amount of blood, and she knew he would need to be given some for him to stay alive. A group of healers ran in, guiding the men out to their own rooms for treatment. Nimani could feel his energy tipping from a mere fraction of a signature to dropping out of her senses completely. Her energy poured into him as she tried to get his Rites started, but he had drained himself far too much for her to help.
"Tuvek (Fuck)" She growled, focusing her energy into healing the two most prominent gashes in his chest.
"AHHHHHH!" Draco tried thrashing, but Nimani quickly used her Rite to hold him down, grabbing the straps and fastening them around his limbs.
He screamed as she kept trying to close his wounds and realign most of his bones. Nimani had seen him in bad conditions before, but this was beyond ridiculous. It wasn't possible for any Loki'irian, Signa or not, that could withstand such punishment with so many injuries. If he'd gone on, she was sure he would have died. Draco's let out a roar when the gash in his midsection finally closed.
It was a nightmare for her. Nearly an entire day of healing and restraining went by, and she was only half done. Her own energy reserves were being drained, and she went so far as to use her Ina form to try and accelerate the procedure. But it costed more energy. Energy she could have used on his wounds. It was exhausting, and still she needed to cover him in bandage wraps and use medicinal solutions on the smaller injuries, so that she could save her strength for the gorier ones.
1 Day Later…
The sounds of a heart monitor echoed faintly, slowly gaining volume and clarity. His breaths came quicker and less deep, and then his eyes shot open and he let out a sudden, broken yell. He panted quickly, then turned to his left as he felt a pair of soft hands hold him down.
"It's fine, Reku'un," Nimani said soothingly. "You're fine."
Draco took one last breath before slowly settling back down. "Did… did I… win?" He croaked, his voice cracking horribly.
Nimani sighed softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Jerosh… was with your brothers when they carried you in," she told him, watching as his expression fell.
To think, that he had lasted as long as he did, pushed farther than he ever had, and yet it wasn't enough. He couldn't beat Jerosh… he wasn't strong enough… he didn't have the will to go on. Did he fail? Was his training all pointless because he couldn't beat his brother?
He gasped, then winced, as a hand touched his. Nimani gave him an assuring smile, and he sighed as he returned the gesture. "It was a gruesome battle, from what I gather," Nimani smiled, trying to get his mind off of losing.
"Five… on one," he chuckled weakly, his side crackling with pain. "I… could handle the others… but Jerosh was… too much. Even fo-for me. Do you know… where they are?"
"They needed medical attention as well," Nimani replied. "They're not far from this room. Perhaps when they're better they will visit."
Draco nodded slowly, looking over to his discarded Daedalak. "Nimani… I tried… harder than I've ever…" She sat down on a seat beside his bedside, still holding his hand.
"You should not look at this in one perspective, Reku'un," she smiled. "Yes, you lost the battle. But you lasted an entire week against your own brothers, the strongest family of warriors outside the League. You've come far, and you proved that not only are you a Signa, but you have the will and heart of your forefathers."
He smiled lightly, glancing to her. "I guess… that's one way of looking at it," he said, earning a small laugh from her. "You look just as exhausted as I am."
Nimani nodded slowly, clutching her head softly. "It wasn't easy healing your entire body," she laughed gently. "And putting your bones together after they'd been smashed apart."
"But you've… done this all the time," Draco said.
She shook her head. "Your regenerative Rite usually aids the healing process, which allows me to heal you completely with the energy I have," she explained. "You were too drained for your body to do anything further than react. Some of your body still isn't as healed as the rest of you… I decided that your biggest wounds were in need the most."
He glanced down to his legs, realizing there were herbal wraps around them, including his upper torso and his upper right arm. "Thank you," Draco said, firmly holding her palm.
She nodded softly, standing up and covering their hands with her other. "It is my pleasure, Doshu'um Reku'un," she smiled.
He chuckled and shook his head. "I thought you only called me Reku'un?" He smirked.
She returned the gesture and sat back down, releasing his hand. "Whichever I think of first, Doshu'um," she remarked. "Whichever I think of first."
He chuckled softly, wincing as he felt the soreness in his abdomen. "Maybe… I should… rest," he suggested. "Don't you agree?"
He was answered by a snore. Nimani sat on the chair with her back against the bed and her arms crossed over her chest. He laughed quietly, then glanced to his Daedalak again. Remembering his loss made his smile ebb quickly, and he closed his eyes to get it out of his sight. The two years of training had made him a powerful Signa… but he hadn't been strong enough.
Would he ever be?