Rayan shoved the ax aside and swiped sideways along the paragon’s chest. His foe pulled the long handle of his ax to block. The moment wood and steel made contact, he twirled the ax, attempting to throw Rayan’s positioning off. The sword went up wide, but Rayan fell back a step, using his shield to protect him from the sudden shoulder slam. It hurt, but nothing like the direct blow of the ax.

His training dictated decisive, firm movements, but the paragon denied Rayan the chance to settle into a rhythm. There was no forcing a block from a man with such massive armor. At the same time, he could not rely on his shield to hold, or his sword to parry, when he defended. The paragon may have decorated himself with a scorpion, but his strength matched that of a bull. Rayan moved quicker, his lungs aflame, as a lifetime of training and battle took over. His shield arm was almost completely numb, yet still he heaved it up and about to defend against the ax. Blood dripped from a split lip, an errant hit by the paragon’s fist, yet he ignored the pain. Stab in, retreat with shield up. Slash twice in a V-shape, then pull back to parry. At last he scored a significant hit, the tip of his sword cutting a thin line along the paragon’s waist, his shining steel easily parting the padded leather to draw blood.

“Enough,” the paragon snarled. “This insolence ends.”

He gave no pretense to defending himself. Their dance became decidedly one-sided, and all Rayan could do was attempt to survive it. Again and again, the head of the ax battered the direct center of the shield. Rayan retreated with each hit, allowing the momentum to transfer into him lest he break completely. Still, he could not suffer this long. Twice he attempted to counter, but the paragon was too swift.

“You are alone, paladin,” the paragon said as he rammed the scorpion stinger of his ax directly into the shield, wielding it as he would a spear. Rayan skidded backward but held strong. “All alone. Your goddess bled out while we watched. Weren’t you there? Didn’t you hear her screams?”

Heard them? They had haunted his nightmares for months. Despite all his efforts, and the combined soldiers and paladins of the two gods, they could not break the line of paragons protecting Sinshei and the now-deceased regent. But despite that failure, there had been hope. The boy prince had lived. Cyrus had practically rolled to a stop at Rayan’s feet after being flung through the air by an explosion of energy marking the death of the goddess’s physical body.

Rayan had never told the boy what his arrival interrupted. He’d never admitted the truth after he disguised the prince with mud and cloak.