The Moon The King was Missing

Argon wouldn't give up, he wasn't willing to leave without Lia, and so he challenged Kael.

"Enough of this theater," Argon growled. "Come, King. Let's speak in another language."

"Not yet," the woman with black eyes interjected. "The question that decides the claims is still missing."

She turned to me.

"Do you see?"

I didn't look at Argon. I looked at Kael. He was a step away. He wasn't touching me. He didn't need me.

I looked back at the woman.

"I don't see a partner in him," I said, referring to Argon. "I see danger. I see lies."

"Fine," the woman said. "There's no right to claim based on the bond."

Argon smiled again, without showing his teeth.

"There's still the other one," he said. "The old one."

Kael took a step. And the forest supported him.

"I accept," he replied. "On the stone. If one of us surrenders, the other cannot kill him. Whatever happens in the duel, neither of us can lay a hand on Lia."

Argon raised an eyebrow.

"Are you afraid of getting your hands dirty?"

"I fear the custom of calling carnage victory," Kael said. "The fight must be clean and honorable."

The Council nodded in unison.

"So be it," the woman said. "You exchange places. Without using swords, daggers, or any other forged weapon. Without teeth in the throat."

Mikel took my elbow with the respect of someone asking permission and led me outside. Eidan and Ares stood behind me.

Argon took off his shirt. Kael ripped his open.

They both placed their right palms on the stone.

"I swear," Kael said.

"I swear," Argon repeated.

The first clash wasn't spectacular. It was sharp. Shoulder to shoulder, weight to weight. Argon pushed, trying to unbalance him. Kael took a half step and twisted his hip, deflecting the force.

Second clash. Argon threw a punch to the ribs. Kael lowered his forearm, blocked, and responded with a clean heel strike to the calf. No claws. No fangs.

"Breathe, King," Argon spat. "You'll need it."

My wolf bristled inside me. I wanted to advance. Ares barely grazed my shoulder with his knuckles, reminding me where I was.

Third clash. Argon changed his rhythm, quickly, a punch above and a sweep below. Kael fell to his knees and smiled. He caught the wrist that was coming for his face, twisted it, and Argon landed with his mouth on the stone with a thud.

The circle didn't applaud. The stone did.

Argon reared up with a growl and, for a heartbeat, bared his claws. Cursing under his breath.

"No claws," the woman reminded him.

Fourth clash. Kael advanced this time: he took two steps, one short and one long, and pushed him. Argon stumbled back three times. The edge of the circle stopped him. He looked at us. He looked at me. He smiled with his eyes.

"Surrender," Kael said, without hatred. "And I'll let you go back to your kind."

"I wasn't born to give in. I was born to reclaim."

"Reclaim dignity," Kael said.

Argon broke the rhythm and went in low, straight for the waist. Kael had him on top of him for a couple of seconds. It was enough time for Argon to attempt a blow to the windpipe. The stone burned. The blow stopped a millimeter short without anyone touching it.

"You've been warned," said the white-haired man.

Argon roared. Kael took the roar as a signal, freeing himself with a hip twist and a precise shove. Argon stumbled. Kael didn't follow through. He waited.

"Enough," said the woman. "Either you give in, or you'll break."

Argon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was blood. He grinned, showing his teeth.

"I won't give in."

"Then listen," I interjected without asking permission. "If you fall, I'll see you. I'll remember you, fallen, defeated."

Argon looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. He didn't like it.

"King," he growled. "Last time."

Fifth clash. This time, Kael didn't wait. He entered with a twist and a shoulder lock that turned Argon's body into a lever against itself. It was clean. And that was the end.

Argon fell backward. Kael followed and pinned him down, placing his weight on precise points.

"Yield," Kael demanded, taking a deep breath.

Argon looked at his men. He searched for looks of humiliation among ours and found none.

"I yield," he said almost inaudibly.

We all took a deep breath.

Kael stepped back immediately and helped him to his feet. Argon half-heartedly accepted his hand, rage clenched behind his teeth. He didn't look at the Council. He looked at me.

"You haven't won," he murmured, just enough for those very close to me to hear. "The wolves remember. So do I."

"They remember the truth. And today it spoke."

Argon gestured to his men. They retreated as they had come: black against ochre, their shadows dissolving among the tree trunks. Only when the last one was lost did the woman speak.

"It is recorded. Protection granted. Claim denied. Duel concluded. The border is warned."

Mikel exhaled through his nose. Eidan's shoulders slumped. Ares ran a hand through his hair, relieved.

Kael turned to me.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," I said, and my wolf, behind me, added a short, happy howl.

"I want to say something," I asked.

The Council nodded. Kael did too.

I stepped into the center.

"My name is Lia, daughter of Helena and Íñigo. I am one of those who see. And today I saw again."

A silence fell. And then, a murmur that wasn't from people: leaves, branches, earth, wind. As if the land accepted me.

Kael smiled for the second time that day.

"Come. There's bread."

I laughed involuntarily. My body was craving rest and soup.

We moved away from the circle. Halfway there, a strange smell cut through the air: old iron, smoke. Kael stopped. Mikel raised his head like a dog. The forest tensed.

"Do you smell it?" I whispered.

Kael nodded.

"Yes," he said. "This isn't over."

And the night revealed what was to come.