Final Battle
by: antihero

i.
Ainbar washed Eyora's face again. There was nothing to be done for a victim of the Green Shakes, except try to make them a little more comfortable. And watch them die. So Ainbar sat by Eyora's bed and wiped the sweat from her green-tinged face, and tried to feed her soup. And he watched her die. She trembled as he watched, the shuddering shake for which the disease was named. He hated seeing her like this, the beauty which had first caught his eye withered by the disease. But it wasn't her raven-black hair or her eyes, blue and dark as midnight, that had kept him with her for ten years. It was her good nature, her kindness in all things, which had made him ask her to change her last name from Fallingwater to his own Ironfeld. She had agreed, and they had performed the ceremony, saying the words which bound them together for life. He hadn't been able to believe that they were married. He had never regretted it, and as far as he knew, Eyora had been just as happy. And now she was dying from the Shakes. No one knew what caused the disease; no one even knew how it had started. Nothing could affect it, not the most potent magic, not even the science of the physicians that Ainbar had asked for when all the magician healers had failed to even slow the spread of the disease.

He muttered the words to the spell which would cool the rag and make it wet. All of his strength, all of his skill as a seventh-level wizard, even though he was called the strongest magician in ten centuries by some, none of that helped his wife. His power was in other areas. He could bring all the forces of nature itself, wind, fire, tidal waves, to bear against an opposing army in battle, could bend time and space to transport himself to anyplace on the planet, yet he could not heal much more than a bruise, nor could he lift a finger to save his love.

Suddenly Eyora's shuddering ceased, for the first time in a month. Ainbar looked more closely, and saw that the struggling, labored rise and fall of her chest had ceased as well. The sickly green tint to her skin drained away with surprising quickness, leaving her with her old, beautiful, bronze color. Ironically, she looked better in death than she had for the last weeks of her life.

"So. The time has come," he said. He wanted to rage against her death, but futile blundering had never been his nature. He took Eyora's hand and kissed it gently.

Suddenly a figure cloaked in the night stepped through the door. The man was like a black hole, pulling light in and vanquishing it completely. He emitted darkness every bit as much as a glowbulb threw off light. And the door; it was as if the door simply wasn't there, when this dark apparition stepped through. The man in black was easily a head taller than Ainbar, as tall as any person Ainbar had seen. He stepped into the room purposefully, glancing around, taking in the surroundings. Something in his manner told Ainbar that this man wouldn't miss any details of the room, no matter how insignificant. The man was danger coiled into a spring, waitin to be released. Ainbar stood from his grief, wary and ready to face any threat, magic coming to mind and hand.

The figure flowed perhaps five feet into the room and stopped. He said nothing, only stood waiting, looking at Ainbar. Ever after, Ainbar tried to put into words what those eyes were like. The only description he could summon was a sense of depth, and age. It seemed that these eyes had seen the formation of the universe itself. And when those eyes fell upon Ainbar, a fear like none he had ever felt travelled up his spine. Not even an army arrayed against him caused as much fear as this one dark figure did. And although this piece of the night wore a sword at his waist, with no scythe in evidence as all the stories claimed he should have, Ainbar knew who this was as certainly as he knew his own name.

"Death," breathed Ainbar.

The figure's voice was the rattle of bones across desert hardpan. "I have many names, from many times and places. You may call me Thanatos." He took a step forward, almost regretfully. "Death is universal, and as unstoppable as the tides. I have come now to take the one called Eyora."

"I will not allow you to take her."

"My will cannot be balked in this matter. The time has come, and everything is in place as it should be. She must come with me." Thanatos started forward inexorably.

"Wait," said Ainbar. "I did not believe that you would actually come, as the stories say. It seems that a myth has stepped whole out of the old tales."

"I do not come for everyone. But for special cases, I am required to attend personally."

Ainbar edged his way in front of the bed. "What makes this so 'special'?"

Thanatos turned his full attention on Ainbar; the force of his personality was being hit by lightning. "Because of you. Your care for your wife has brought me here, to do this thing." And with that, Death began to move forward once more. "There truly is nothing you can do."

If the stories were true, there was one choice left to Ainbar. A dangerous one, a choice which could well cost him his life. But without Eyora, he had no life anyway. "There is one thing. I demand the right of combat."

Thanatos stopped for an instant, looking at Ainbar. He muttered an incantation, and suddenly, the three of them were no longer in Ainbar's modest dwelling. there was a feeling of nothingness here, like nowhere Ainbar had ever been; the world was blackness, making even Death's raiment appear lighter.

Again Thanatos spoke, that dry rattle in the darkness. "No one has demanded the right of combat in four thousand years, and no one has won such a demand in over six milennia. Are you certain?"

"I am certain." Ainbar looked around. "What is this place?"

"This is a waiting area. I assume you know the terms of battle. If you are the victor, the girl lives, healthy, and you live, for a full span. If you fail, both your lives are forfeit. I say again, be certain. This is literally a life or death decision."

"We will battle anywhere on the planet, correct?"

"Correct. We will separate, and then the hunt begins. We are both equally hunter and hunted, with a surprise attack the reward for successfully tracking our prey. Agreed?"

"Agreed." In an instant, Ainbar and Eyora were back home, minus Death.

"The hunt begins."

ii.
Ainbar bent to examine Eyora. She was doing nothing, not breathing, not shaking. For an instant rage enveloped him. Thanatos had reneged on the bargain. Then reason came back. He spoke the words, sending out tendrils of magic, probing Eyora for any signs of life. What he found was odd. She was not alive, but she was not dead, either, not exactly. He could feel the life in her as surely as he could touch the floor, yet to all appearances, she was dead. Since there was nothing he could do about it, he turned his mind from Eyora, as difficult as that was, and thought about what he had just done. Everything he had ever heard about the bargain he had just made, all the stories told during the feast after a battle, when death always seemed so close, had one thing in common: there were only two kinds of men who made such a bargain. Great fools, and great heroes, such as were found only in legends. "Which kind of man will the histories remember me as?"

He paced the length of the room, nearly forty strides across, thinking.

For the moment, he knew, he was safe, because all those campfire tales did have one more thing in common. They all said that Death was honorable, and Ainbar's personal experience had certainly proved no different.. Thanatos would not attack here, without giving Ainbar a chance to run.

He decided to stop wasting time and get to the hunt. As they said, Death waits for no man. He quickly formulated his battle plan, knowing that it might be the last battle he ever fought. Well, I've had a good run, he thought. And the reward is worth much more than the price. He chanted the words that would open a hole through nothing to somehwere else. Taking one last look at Eyora, he twisted space and time, and stepped through the hole that appeared.

iii.
He fought to keep his feet on the rocky slope. The mountain was one of the hundreds in the Dragon's Claws, the chain covering half a continent. The place itself did not matter. He knew Thanatos would feel the magic needed to transport him this far anywhere in the world. He waited for a few seconds, and then wove another spell, far more delicate, and much harder to detect, to transport him a hundred feet up the mountainside. He took cover behind a boulder, half again as large as himself, and settled down to watch.

He had just a moment's notice before the air shimmered off to his right, down the slope twenty feet or so. Had he stayed where he had arrived, Thanatos would have appeared above him, and Ainbar would now be dead. He wove the spell for a fire ball, eager to end this quickly, and released it, all in one thought.

At the last possible instant, Death turned, and threw up a shield of energy. The ball of fire struck the shield, and splintered into a thousand shards. Instantly, the choked brush that grew on the mountainside was in flames. Without thinking, Ainbar weaved a spell to suffocate the fires, but before he could release it, the flames died. Thanatos had woven his own spell.

"Thank you," Ainbar said grudgingly.

"For what?"

"Putting out the fires. You did not have to do that."

"The wildlife of this area has no part in our battle. They should not be harmed because you and I were careless." Thanatos gathered up his cloak, and stepped wordlessly through the hole he had created.

Ainbar stood silently for a moment, considering. Then he cast his awareness out in an ever-widening net, searching for Thanatos. There. He began cast the spell that would take him there, then thought better. He instead weaved a shield for himself, and changed his destination.

He arrived just inside the doorway of one of the deserted watch towers. As he examined his surroundings, he realized where he was. This was the Ancient Wall. No one knew where it had come from, only that it had been there for longer than even the historians knew. It was considered the worst of bad luck to come here. I make my own luck, he thought. But that kind of thought wandering was likely to get him killed. He surveyed the surrounding area carefully, making sure he used only his eyes, because any magic would alert Death instantly to his presence.

He looked around, and saw. . . Nothing. No Death, no traps, just nothing.

Instinct told him to throw himself flat on the top of the wall. The blazing green spear of pure energy passed through the space his heart had occupied only a second earlier. Saved by his intuition. He struck back at Thanatos, who had been hiding in another tower, waiting for Ainbar to reveal himself. Death's shield countered the hit, like a giant hammer of energy, and hecounterstruck. Thanatos and Ainbar traded blows for only a few moments, before Death broke off the attack. Ainbar did the same. The two stood looking at each other for a moment, and it was Thanatos who spoke first.

"We are obviously evenly matched, magically. We are going to accomplish nothing this way, except more destruction." Already great sections of the wall were burning, or had been turned to rubble. Death lowered his shield, a sign of temporary truce. Ainbar hesitated, then did the ame.

"What do you suggest?"

"Let us continue this battle without magic. We will battle instead with swords, in the old manner."

Ainbar thought for a moment. Aside completely from his magical skills, his skill with a blade was accounted greater than anyone in memory. He made a decision. "No magic tricks, just plain steel?" Thanatos nodded. "Done."

"Agreed." Death drew his night-black sword.

Ainbar, having no sword, would have to make one. He chanted the words to the spell that would draw iron from the very ground, fire it and make steel, shape it into a perfect blade, slightly curved and sharp on only one side, balance it and make it into a sword worthy of a blademaster. The sword shone like a mirror in the darkness, a perfect counterpoint to Death's black steel.

Ainbar lifted his sword in a respectful salute, and found it returned to him. Ainbar began to dance with Thanatos in the ancient sword forms, those that Ainbar had learned from his master, since the moment he could pick up the smallest practice blade, the forms that Death must've learned in some long-forgotten time. They flowed smoothly from one to another, attacking, blocking, and feinting, dancing across the length and breadth of the wall, neither gaining or losing an advantage, moving almost too fast for any casual observer to see; their blades were nothing but blurs as swordsman moved. Bright steel met dark time and again, throwing off bright blue arcs of energy, turning the night almost into day. Had the skill of either been a hair less, blood would have flowed from a dozen wounds. Ainbar never knew how long he danced with Thanatos atop of that wall. It felt like hours, but was surely no more than a few minutes.

Finally, against all hope, Death made a mistake. Drawing back momentarily from Ainbar, he tripped over a piece of rubble. It was only a momentary loss of balance, but between two such masters as this, it was more than enough. Ainbar smoothly flowed into Thanatos, bringing his blade up and across Death's chest, flesh and night-black cloak parting easily for the steel. Thanatos actually seemed to smile for a moment, then faded away into nothingness.

As suddenly as Death disappeared, Ainbar was back in that no-place that made the night seem like noon. Death was there as well, and Eyora, suspended again in mid-nothing. Thanatos spoke. "So. You have bested Death. It is an honor claimed by no one in six thousand years. You have earned that honor, and the life of your loved one. Congratulations." He began to turn away, speaking the spell to return life to Eyora and send them both home.

Ainbar strode forward and grasped Thanatos' arm. "Wait." Death turned back expectantly. "I have studied every swordmaster who ever lived. To say you are a master is to say water is wet. Master swordsmen do not make foolish mistakes, like paying so litlle attention to their surrounding during a battle that they slip on debris. What happened?"

"I will say only this. Sometimes even I think a rule should be. . . bent. Not broken, for these precepts are as law, but, if I can help you save someone like Eyora's life, someone taken out of life itself too early, only to leave behind someone who loves them so much... if i can do this and still remain within the laws appointed for my office, then perhaps I will do so. Perhaps. Or perhaps I am not so great a swordsman as you think. Either way, you have been given a great reprieve. Now go. Live. She will be a healthy, strong woman. Until I come for the two of you again."

And with that, Death disappeared.