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| - The room was darkened, the traditional waxen candles that lit it extinguished some time ago. All was still, save for the occasional rustling of the outside wind through the cracks in the ancient wooden door. Shinsu lay still under his single, roughly woven blanket and fought to clear his mind. It was late and his head ached from another day spent traveling around the keep's villages with Zura and the others, talking to the serfs and making sure the officers they'd appointed for themselves were drilling them all properly. Yet again, they'd discovered that their recruits were failing to maintain their weapons properly, and this time they'd actually been forced to dismiss a few of the officers for their negligence. It had been understandable the first few times; after all, there were few Sangheili, even those in the military, who fully understood how to properly care for their small arms and vehicles without Huragok to aid them. But too many times, too many lectures, couldn't be tolerated. Zura had paid dearly to get those weapons back when the Jiralhanae threat still loomed, and now it would be nigh impossible to get replacements. But they'll learn, he thought, but it was more to assure himself than to confirm anything he really knew. The serfs had been kept ignorant of weaponry and even much of the advanced technology the Sangheili had had at their fingertips under the Covenant and even now the keeps were loath to arm their servants now, not with most of the Unggoy gone and the labor force in shambles. If Master 'Yeshen weren't such a lenient kaidon, Shinsu and his friends would have been forced to disband their little militia ages ago. But that, Shinsu assured himself, would not happen. He, Zura, and the others had worked too hard to educate those serfs in the arts of warfare. Now that their training with Master 'Yeshen had been completed, some had even left the keep to live amongst the serfs. Had Master 'Yeshen not been so insistent that Shinsu continue living within the keep, he would have gone out there as well. Without the Covenant, the Sangheili had entered a new age, one in which there would be little room for the petty divisions of the old feudal system. If only more Sangheili could understand this. Shinsu rolled over onto his side. His mattress, an austere pallet that he'd made himself as part of his training, lay on the floor of his cramped quarters and now that his head was aching worse than ever he wished for the first time that he'd spent more time on making it more comfortable. But in spite of the headache, his thoughts continued to race even faster than before. Yes, the militia were necessary. If the larger keeps and their kaidons were to see that alliance with the humans was anything more than a grave threat to their entire species, he and those with him would need supporters, and not just a rabble of frightened farmers. They needed Sangheili educated in the ways of the new galaxy that had emerged from the Covenant's destruction. If the old gods were dead, as so many of the elders were saying now, then the people would need a purpose, one that extended beyond farming and paying homage to unfeeling divinities. That was why Zura had called in his sister, Cena, from their own keep to help with the villages. They had all seen the confusion of the males after the Covenant had broken: raised all their lives to be warriors in the service of the Covenant, now realizing they had relied too much on their subordinate races to supply everything their society needed. But the females had understood what needed to be done, had taken charge when the kaidons had failed to act quickly enough. It had been Shinsu's idea to bring in a female to help educate the serfs, and after some foot dragging the others had agreed. For reasons Shinsu couldn't quite understand, thoughts of the slender, elegant Cena filled his mind and made sleep impossible. He shut his eyes against the darkness and fought to empty his mind of everything, but images of Cena continued to linger. But his friend's sister was quickly replaced by another memory, one brought on by thoughts of their race's dead gods. Shinsu's father, Sesa 'Refumee, had been the first of their kind to realize the San 'Shyuum's lies, had been the first to do something about them, to try and save the Sangheili before it was too late. He was a true hero, one who should be honored above all others... ..yet he'd been slaughtered like a cur by the very traitor who now goaded the Sangheili into foolish alliance with the humans. The one who'd become the San 'Shyuum's private killer just for the sake of his own miserable honor now led the keeps to the same destruction he'd delivered upon Sesa. The wretched Arbiter, Thel 'Vadam. A familiar fury, the rage against the monstrous injustice of it all, coursed through Shinsu's body and he clenched his fists against his blanket. Yes, that crime had yet to be punished. But there would be a reckoning, of this Shinsu was certain. No, more than certain. He swore it. The blood of his father, his mother, his clan, even his little brother Tuka screamed out against the Vadam keep, the honorless scum who had brought about their destruction. Shinsu was the last of the Refums, the only one left who could bring justice down upon the Vadams and their ilk. And he would. Shinsu struggled to calm his wild thoughts as the aching in his head threatened to split it in two. This is not the way a true warrior meditates, he admonished himself. Such a lack of self-discipline was a sure sign that all the work with the militia was getting to him. It was no secret that he and his friends opposed the human alliance, and their words carried weight amongst youths like themselves across Sanghelios. He was letting the importance of their work overwhelm him, not leaving enough time for the meditations Master 'Yeshen had taught him... He breathed deeply, keeping his eyes closed. The room was silent now, and he reached out with his senses, savoring the smells of the aged wood, the constant chattering of the insects in the gardens outside, the gust of wind across his mandibles... He froze. A gust of wind? But the door was supposed to be shut. He'd closed it himself... Shinsu's eyes snapped open. He remained motionless, struggling to peer into the utter darkness before him. His fingers twitched as his left arm crept towards the energy sword hilt that lay beside him. There was a noiseless motion in the darkness, and at once Shinsu had seized the hilt and activated it. Flashing to his feet, he was alert in an instant, flinging his blanket out before him. It hung in the air for only an instant before a blinding light flashed on and sliced it in two. Shinsu had been ready for this, squinting his eyes to keep the light from blinding him. The energy blade flashed again, slicing the falling blanket into quarters as it darted towards him. Shinsu didn't bring his blade up to counter it. Instead, he stepped back and twisted his body, his eyes following the blade's every move. It came now, striking with a blinding speed and precision that Shinsu had only seen once before. He stepped back, angling his body and barely avoiding the blade's deadly twin beams as they slashed so close to his bare skin that he could feel the vibrations of their contained plasma as they passed a hair's breadth away. He couldn't let this go on any longer or he'd succumb to the attack. His attacker was little more than a shadowy patch against the darkness, but Shinsu came in anyway with his own lighting-fast attacks. His foe dodged the first slash, and then the second, but the third slipped in through its defenses and cut deep into the attacker's torso. Purple blood spurted out across the room, but Shinsu's attacker didn't so much as whimper as the young Sangheili darted in and ran him through. It had been three seconds since the fight had begun. For a moment, there was only silence as Shinsu stared at the armored attacker who was still impaled on the end of his blade. Their was strength in this one, that was to be sure, but also frailty, a combination that he'd seen many times before. One he knew well... The attacker stumbled back, away from Shinsu's blade. Losing its footing, the warrior tripped and fell, grabbing at the wall for support and leaving a trail of dark blood across the wood. It was only as the attacker raised its armored head that Shinsu recognized him and his his hearts froze in mid-beat. "You..." Shoma 'Yeshen gasped. The kaidon who had done so much for him, had spent so much time and care on his behalf, slid even further to the floor. "Your skills have grown well... Shinsu..." Shinsu blinked in horror. No. This couldn't be happening. This wouldn't happen. It was impossible. It was too horrific to comprehend. "Master...?" he whispered into the darkness. It couldn't be... "Why?" His master was silent for a moment, and the only sound was that of Shinsu's humming energy blade, which now hung limply at his side. Then Master 'Yeshen pushed himself up slightly. There was a hiss as he drew in his breath sharply, the blood still seeping from his wounds. Shinsu reached out to support him, to help him... And then the master's energy gauntlet flashed and Shoma finally let out a strangled cry as he slashed his own throat. A final spurt of blood, and then the warrior who'd been ranked among their race's finest swordmasters collapsed in a limp heap on the floor. In the perverse silence that followed, a puddle of blood leaked out around his limp form. The energy sword fell from Shinsu's limp fingers and clattered to the floor, its blade deactivating as it dropped. His legs could no longer support him, and he collapsed and found himself sitting in the pool of his master's blood. No... this couldn't be happening... Shinsu felt ill, and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to snatch up his blade again, to turn it on himself and end this nightmare, to wake up from this twisted fantasy and find himself in reality once more. But he knew the truth. The sting of his master's frigid blood on his bare legs was real, as was the pounding of his hearts against his chest. It was all real... He squeezed his eyes shut again, his longing for sleep stronger than ever now. Everything was coming unwound around him. The militia, his friends, his plans to avenge his family... it was all nothing more than hubris and vanity compared to the fact that Shoma 'Yeshen, the one who had always been there to help and guide him, was dead. By his blade. Yes, Shinsu had felt this way before. He remembered it clearly now. This helplessness and despair was what had consumed him when they'd brought the news that his father was gone. Master 'Yeshen had come to fill that gaping void, and now he too had been snatched away. But even amidst the furious torrent of agony and grief, another part of Shinsu's mind was ticking away quickly. The master had come alone, it whispered. He could have shot Shinsu where he lay, but he'd brought only his blade to do the deed. He'd slain himself rather than spend his last breaths attacking his target. Master 'Yeshen had not wanted to kill him. Master 'Yeshen could not have wanted to kill him. But he had come all the same, had drawn his blade on his own pupil even as his hearts must have been splitting in two. He had no choice, Shinsu realized as his pain numbed into shock. He was put up to this. Someone ordered him to, on his honor as a kaidon. There was nothing he could have done... And then it was all clear, and Shinsu felt as if he might either explode with fury or simply lie down amidst his master's blood and weep. They had done this. The ones who he and his friends preached against, they were the ones who had played on Master 'Yeshen's honor. There was no other explanation. The numbness was departing, and in its place was a cold rage of the likes that Shinsu had never felt before. Instead of coming for him directly, Thel 'Vadam and his followers had done the unthinkable and brought Master 'Yeshen, an innocent, into a battle he had never wanted. It all made sense once again. 'Yeshen was dead because he and those with him hadn't acted quickly enough, had relied on words and slow changes to save the Sangheili. Shinsu had brought this on his master as surely as his faceless enemies had. No. Not faceless. One of them had a very real face, one that Shinsu saw every time he closed his eyes. Shinsu pulled himself into a dignified sitting position beside his dead master. He would remain with the body until morning came, until the rest of the keep awakened to find out that their whole world had been shattered as they slept. He would honor Master 'Yeshen with an account of the swordmaster's final, noble battle. And then he would leave. He would leave everything: Zura, Cena, his friends, the militia... everything. There was work for him to do, and he wouldn't let anyone else die for him like Master 'Yeshen had. He would go to the state of Vadam, and he would cut away the disease that had killed his father, his master, and his clan. Steely resolve flooded his veins as he sat amidst his master's blood. He would do what he should have done from the start. He would kill Thel 'Vadam.
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