The dunes of Sa'Zhar are home to many archaic clans, forged by a harsh and ancient desert life. Skirmishes were constant. Spies slipped into enemy clans, either executed if caught—or worse, returning with vital intelligence.
Trust is a hard resource to come by, and it's even more carefully distributed—mostly to those closest to the leaders.
Life in Sa'Zhar was one of survival, caution, betrayal and a constant need to move forward. No loss was worth wasting the time to mourn when danger could strike from any place at any time... even from within your own clan.
That was the way of life for most people.
There was one clan that sequestered themselves from everyone else, worked on growing their bonds and further diving into tradition. Not to create the strongest clan of all time nor to dominate all of the other clans... but to create an environment in which all would live without the fear of being back stabbed even by their own brothers and sisters.
Coincidentally, today was the day where the prince would face his father in lethal combat for the prize of leadership of the Lenbird clan.
***
The Lenbird clan called their home the carcass of an ebony colossus. Some would say that their ancestors took down that beast and chose to make it their home. It created all kinds of urban legends about the Lenbirds.
The solidified insides of the colossus gained a look that could only be described as biomechanical. Countless ridges ran across the walls and ceilings with many bulbous sections of differing lengths spotted all around. To someone unaware of where they were born, they might think the place was made for giants, not humans!
"I can't wait! The first proper heir to the clan in more than two hundred years?! What were the god damn chances?!"
"Lil' Renoir was always talented, perhaps even more than His Highness!"
"I for one... would rather Sir Altair Lenbird remained king..."
The arena looked similar to the grand colosseum, housing the thousands that made up the Lenbird clan. Regardless of whatever anyone thought. Big changes were about to come. Everyone knew that, even if only deep down. However, the prince had different plans...
"They sure do like to run their mouth..." The soft voice of a young woman filled the silence and darkness of the 'locker room'.
"I'm used to it. Well, regardless of what everyone thinks about me succeeding Father, it was his own choice to have this fight at this moment. They can't go against him so they choose to spill their frustration onto the only one they can, which is... yeah." Renoir said. "Thanks for always being by my side, Cass."
Even though they couldn't see one another, Renoir felt the warmth and kindness in her words.
"You don't have to thank me at all... Well... How do you feel? Have you steeled yourself for what's about to come?"
"Steel myself? Yeah, I think so. I don't think I'm ready... although no one really is, isn't that so? We need to face whatever life throws at us with all of our willpower and strength, otherwise, living in Sa'Zhar would be impossible.
"You're right." Cassandra said with a proud and reassured smile on her face. "Although... can I ask something?"
"Yeah?"
"Well... why are we the only ones in the dark? There's plenty of light outside the door—so why just us?"
Renoir's heart stood in place, a knot forming in his throat... "I wonder why...."
It was better to leave aside the aggressive pushes to hook the two up... coming from his own father.
Air wafted right near Renoir's body before a small object landed in his hand.
"Is this...?" Renoir's voice cracked as he turned the object in his hand. "I thought I threw it away." Renoir said as he turned the object in his hand.
Cassandra shrugged, eyes soft.
"You did. I couldn't let it stay lost."
"Why...?
"When you mope like that, it really makes me want to give you a good slap. You spent so much time working on it... and I know the meaning of you throwing this away and instead choosing to fight His Highness in a different manner... but those of us who want you as our next leader, don't want something different... we want you."
Renoir felt a slightly sharp poke on his chest right where his heart is.
"I can never beat you, can I? Ever since we were little, there were only two people I could never beat." Renoir said with a smile on his face and absolute confidence in himself.
The door made a metallic sound as it opened to let all of the light coming from the arena inside the room. Cassandra held Renoir's hand while Renoir made sure to never let go.
The two marched forward, ignoring what everyone else thought of the two holding hands.
The Pit, as the Lenbirds so lovingly took to call it was immense and it wouldn't surprise anyone if there could be an all-out war between two small towns and still have room to spare inside the arena.
The stands looked like the half-digested remains of humanoids trying to climb out of the acid pit. Bony hands linked together made for perfect guardrails while countless skeletons fused together over time to create the floor on which everyone stood.
The two made their way to the middle of the arena before Cassandra respectfully bowed and ran towards the stands.
The ground rumbled at regular intervals and as it did, the crowd cheering quieted down significantly.
"He's coming!" Renoir said as his body grew tenser and tenser.
Lightning struck seemingly out of nowhere, the tendrils of deep blue lightning creating the outline of a person. A giant man materialized out of nowhere with a manic look in his eyes and a large smile on his face.
"Did you like my entrance?" The man said.
The crowd exploded in cheers and excitement as Renoir felt a deep wave of secondhand embarrassment.
***
The two had a special kind of relationship. As the father of a genius that could even overtake him before reaching adulthood and a son that is trying his hardest to meet his expectations, it wouldn't be out of place for tensions to get high at times. Altair already went through that in his childhood, so he would make awkward 'dad jokes' all the time to keep a light atmosphere. Even though Renoir knew that he couldn't help but feel the secondhand embarrassment.
"If you're a god damn clan leader, you should act like one!" Renoir shouted before dashing at full speed, cleaving the very air in front of him with the strength of his step.
"Hey, now! Did something good happen?!" Altair said as he withdrew his blade from his waist and swung it down with a speed and tenacity bodies like his don't usually afford.
Renoir's foot landed two meters away from the towering figure of his father. Once his other leg landed, he used his right leg to push himself with great vigor to the right in the manner of side-to-side jumps. It was useless though, because it only took Altair half a moment for his nine feet tall body to move dozens of meters, the trajectory of his blade aimed straight at Renoir's neck.
Renoir barely dodged. The blade missed—just—but the shockwave hurled him into the air like a leaf in a storm.
'Fuck!' Renoir thought, the rhythm of his heart accelerating dramatically.
"What the hell are you doing?! Use your prana!!"
A colossal amount of lightning gathered within Altair's greatsword, painting the blade in the same deep blue color as his prana. He grabbed his sword with both hands and lifted them into the air, lightning continuously gathering within the blade of his sword.
***
The Lenbirds share a trait that no other humans do. Their sclera are a pitch-black color. Even with the Lenbirds, Renoir was the only one to be born with white colored eyes. Many of those who met him would say that looking into his eyes was like looking at the night sky. That was due to the type of prana he wielded. While most can only use one element to enhance themselves or their weapons with, Renoir's prana was 'pure'.
'Using wind would be of no use. God damn it! I hate fighting him on his terms!!!'
Altair swung down, his body and sword growing thrice as large in Reinor's mind than in reality.
Silver lightning wrapped itself around Renoir's body, all of it gathering into his arm. The enhancement of his senses afforded him a few more precious milliseconds to act. He waved his hand to the right sending all of that accumulated lightning into a pinpoint location behind him. As the last tendrils of lightning left his arm, his body gained a silvery translucence before melding with the lightning.
The sword sliced the air creating a high-pitched sound as it cut the air, the crackling of the lightning deafening the crowd.
The lightning struck the ebony ground a fraction of a second later from which Renoir's body emerged.
The crowd's excitement grew higher and higher as the two performed techniques few Lenbirds could match, and fewer could master... Even those who once dismissed Renoir were now cheering.
Whoever came out of that fight in one piece would bring the clan to heights they'd never seen before. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in their minds.