Azail stepped onto the bridge, a mere two arm lengths from a man who would gladly slay him. "Why?", he whispered softly.
"You slew the greatest teacher I have ever studied under." And Jarisha flew upon him, unleashing a furious storm of punches and kicks; the wooden railings of the bridge not so much splintering as exploding before the force of his blows as all his attacks were doged or turned aside, although to be fair to him, Azail did at least retreat a few steps in order to avoid the brunt of the attack.
"You do not mourn him", Azail said, and the simple directness of the statement stopped Jarisha in the middle of his onslaught more surely than any counter-attack could. He stood in a wary tiger stance, eyes filled with hate, and spoke unto Azail.
"No, I do not mourn him. I mourn my own loss. I had so much to learn, he had so many secrets to share." Jarisha paused, regarding the implacable calm of Azail's countenance. "I know what you did to his notes."
"He was a great teacher. Even I would not refuse his last request."
"You lie! You burned them to keep the lore he taught you secret! In envy, that none might learn the secrets of death you know!"
"I do not lie", Azail said simply.
"Why would a man who dedicated his life to the Way forsake it with his dying breaths?"
"I cannot tell you" And something cold and inhuman entered into the red robed one's eyes. "But it is something I can show you."
***
Monday, October 13, 1997 |
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