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Nyte Guard: Chapter 1 - Duel
🕑 Added 2025-09-18 16:26:07 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: Surprise! I've got a Nye chapter for you all as well. I'll be posting 1 Nyte chapter per week, at least until Kanin Fyre completes, at which point I may increase the post schedule. Enjoy!
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Quell chews on his bottom lip, nervously adjusting his glasses. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Of course it’s a good idea,” I growl. I mentally poke the Crimson Aegis, reminding it to let go. The shield was procrastinating, hoping I would change my mind, but at my annoyed reminder it reluctantly disbands its magic. The red straps that keep the oversized, demonic shield secured to my back dissolve into motes of light. Its base clangs noisily to the packed clay, and I grab the top, keeping it from tipping over. I could have just added it to my Inventory, but the shield is scared of being stored in the null space, and we’re trying to work on our relationship.
The shield scoffs in my mind. Scared? The great Crimson Aegis is scared of nothing! Why, it is the most unscared creation in existence. It would simply prefer to not be stuck in such a dark, lonely, uninteresting place without anything to fight.
My mouth pulls in a wry smile. Sure. You just keep telling yourself that.
“What’s taking so long?” Álvaro calls from the other side of the sparring ring. “You scared to be beaten by your little brother? You can always withdraw. I won’t judge.” He gives a crooked smile that makes my eye twitch.
“Here,” I say, leaning the shield toward Quell. “Hold this for me. This won’t take long.”
Quell puts a hand on the top of the shield, which is eye-level for me, and shoulder level for him. Even so, he staggers a little when I let go and has to steady the Aegis to keep it from tipping over. Despite being almost head taller, he maintains a worrying lack of muscle.
“I still don’t think this is the right way to go about it.” Quell’s brows are pinched with concern, dark eyes framed by his large, gold-rimmed glasses. One of his braids has come out of its tie and dangles in face. “You don’t really want to fight him, do you?”
“Of course not,” I say with a sigh. I reach up to tuck the braid back behind his ear. My dark gray skin looks like a black-and-white photograph next to his warm brown. “But if it keeps him out of the tournament, then it’s worth it. Come on. If you’d known, you would have done the same for Constance, right?”
Quell winces. He knows better than anyone the danger my brother is in. “Without hesitation. Well, I mean, I doubt I would have challenged him to physical combat, maybe something more strategic, but—”
“Quill.” I rest my hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. I’m not going to hurt him.”
His expression softens. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
I give his shoulder one last squeeze, then turn away to face Álvaro. He’s grinning mischievously.
I still haven’t entirely gotten used to his smile on a stranger’s face, yet. Whereas I was reincarnated as a crimson-eyed dhampyr, fangs and all, my brother remains human. He’s (annoyingly) a little taller than he had been before, and his skin tone is a more golden shade of brown. His short, curly black hair has become long and wavy, tied back to keep the locks out of his face.
“Done flirting with your boyfriend?” Álvaro calls. “Come on! I’m getting bored over here.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on.” I’d forgotten what a little shit he could be in the months we’d been apart. I spent that whole time worried that he had gotten eaten by a giant snake or something; I’m starting to suspect he didn’t spare me two thoughts.
I step forward into the ring, squinting against the dawning sun. The cool night air still lingers throughout the training grounds, and a light breeze stirs through my short hair, but the desert daylight will strip any form of comfort away before much longer. Even here in the Moonfall kingdom they operate on a nocturnal schedule to avoid the brunt of the heat. And, of course, because arachnoids and dhampyrs can see better in low light than in full sunlight. For my brother’s benefit, I agreed to hold the duel at dawn.
The Crimson Aegis whines as I leave it behind—as if it’s an abandoned puppy, and not an oversized and terrifying shield decorated with carvings of claws, teeth, and glowing, red, eye-like jewels. It can’t believe I agreed to a duel without it! It’s just not fair. It hardly gets to fight at all these days!
It’s right about that. Darian is too busy acting as Liz’s bodyguard while we’re staying in the foreign kingdom to do any sparring matches with me. And to be fair, I’ve been acting much the same for Quell. Even though my Role hasn’t alerted me to any threats to the prince in over a month, I won’t let myself grow complacent.
“You’re really leaving your shield behind?” Álvaro asks as he steps into the ring across from me. At this hour, most of the guards have left for the night or are on duty, so we have the field to ourselves. “You’re going to make this easy for me.”
“It wouldn’t be a fair fight with it,” I say. “And if you can’t beat me without the Aegis, then you’re nowhere near ready to wield the Scimitar.”
Álvaro’s eyes flash at the challenge, and he rests a hand on his hip, where a whip is coiled at his waist. “You just don’t want me to be stronger than you. ‘Cause that’s the one thing you’re better at.”
I scoff in disgust. Why does he have to be this obtuse? “You know that’s not what this is about. I don’t want your mind to get taken over by an evil sword! That has nothing to do with me.”
Álvaro snorts. “Oh, yeah, sure. Because it’s fine for you to have a cool weapon, but not me. Definitely has nothing to do with your insecurities.”
I can feel my blood pressure rise—literally, with my blood Attunement. He knows it’s not like that. I’ve told him all about what the Crimson Scimitar did to Prince Constance. And even if I wanted to get rid of the Aegis, I’m not sure I could. The Pact we made has tied us together, for better or worse.
“I’m not going to have this argument again,” I say. “You ready, or what?”
Álvaro gives a lopsided grin. “You’ll hold your promise, won’t you? When I win, you’ll stop pestering me about dropping out of the tournament.”
“If it comes to that,” I agree. “But when I win, you have to drop out.”
“Sure, sib.” Álvaro removes the whip from his waist, letting the excess length uncoil to the ground beside him. “Whatever you say.”
We both tense, readying for the fight, and I give him a quick Check.
[Name: Álvaro ]
[Species: Human]
[Class: Tracker]
[Level: 26]
[HP: 100/100]
[Mana: 75/75]
[Role: Monster Hunter]
Annoyingly, he’s higher level than me. Shadowing Quell over the last month hasn’t been great for training, though I try to squeeze in workouts whenever I can manage them.
[Name: Nye]
[Species: Dhampyr]
[Class: Stained Guardian]
[Level: 22]
[HP: 175/175]
[Mana: 110/110]
[Role: The Knight]
At least I’ve got both HP and mana on him. His build seems to be all about agility; he’s meant for tracking and trap setting because of his Role. I’m built for brawling—and that was even before I reincarnated with more muscles and fangs. In a hand-to-hand fight, he doesn’t stand much of a chance.
It’s not like I want to beat him up. But if I can stop him now, I’ll save him from getting hurt a lot worse when he enters the Kings’ tournament. Quell said that sometimes people die during tournaments. It’s not often, and not on purpose, but it does happen.
I raise my fists, looking over my knuckles at my brother. I can’t lose him. Not again.
“Okay,” Quell calls, worry obvious in his tight tone. “Begin!”
Álvaro doesn’t move, so I charge him. He crouches in anticipation, and then in a blur of movement, he darts to the side. I skid to an abrupt stop, rounding on him.
“If you think you can win by making me run outside the ring, I can tell you that isn’t going to work,” I say.
He laughs. “Well, it was worth a shot.”
The laughter bothers me—like he’s not taking this seriously at all. Like his future isn’t staked on the outcome.
Because if he enters that tournament, I have a horrible premonition that he’ll win. With Echo helping him out, with all the advantages he’s granted by the System, even if he’s lower level than the other contestants, I just know he’d somehow pull it off.
Álvaro snaps his whip toward me, and I raise an arm to block the blow. The whip snaps around my arm with a painful sting.
[Two points of Slashing damage sustained.]
I activate Coagulate to keep the wound from bleeding. I can feel the Crimson Aegis perk up in my head, eager to get a taste, but then pouts as it remembers it’s not in the fight. I brush it off, focusing on my brother.
I yank back on the whip, and he goes stumbling forward. I grab another handful and begin to reel him in.
“Hey, no fair!” he objects, smiling.
With another jerk, he staggers toward me. I step into him, sweeping my foot forward to smack against his boot. He stumbles to the side, but smoothly recovers before I can sweep him down. Álvaro drops his whip, still coiled around my left arm, and circles away, keeping his eyes on me. The smile starts to fade from his face: good. About time he started taking this seriously.
I come after him, attempting to stick to sweeps and holds. I just want to subdue him—or throw him out of the circle. I’m going to try to avoid blood, but I’m not above leaving a few bruises if that’s what it takes.
Álvaro, however, displays an impressive display of acrobatics that he definitely couldn’t do back on Earth. Every time I think I’ve got him in an arm bar, he slips out like he’s covered in grease. The handful of punches and kicks he does throw my way are easy to block; he never learned the proper technique on Earth, and even if he’s faster and more limber now, he still telegraphs his moves.
We continue to spar for another couple of minutes, and it isn’t long until we’re both breathing heavily. I manage to sweep him off his feet twice. Both times he rolls away and pops back up before I have a chance to follow through, but even that much is telling. He’s slowing down while I’m just getting warmed up.
Regret abruptly pangs through me. I should be building my brother up, not making him feel weak. I know I’m doing the right thing here, I’m stopping him from falling into something that’s entirely over his head, but I don’t like that this is how I had to teach him the lesson. He’s probably going to give me the silent treatment after this for a few days. But with this fight behind us, hopefully we can both move on and start to mend bridges.
As I attempt to grapple him into another hold, he abruptly spins away, fixing me with a strangely intense look. Light blooms from his hands in a golden blaze, and I tense, waiting to see what magical attack he’s readying.
[Check,] Echo says. [Constrict. A spell which causes a pre-determined object, typically a rope, to coil tightly around itself.]
A rope? What—
The whip snaps around me, digging into my skin as it pins my arms to my torso and my legs together. Before I’ve even registered what’s happening, I lose my balance and topple over. Then, pain blasts through me.
Everything flashes white, and after a loud bang my hearing suddenly mutes. Something smacks into me from all sides, and then all the movement stops, and I lay there, stunned, as my vision stops spinning and I find I’m staring up at the sky.
“Oh, shit!” Álvaro’s voice calls from a distance. “Nye! Are you okay?”
Good question. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. I raise a hand to my head, and the whip slips off of me, now inert. Finally, the pain catches up to me.
I blearily glance over Echo’s rapid succession of Damage notifications that have crowded my vision, and I wince, rubbing my head. No broken bones, I’m pretty sure. Definitely some blood and bruises. Ow.
Quell skids to his knees at my side. “Nye! Nye, are you okay?”
“Alive,” I grumble, trying to sit up. Quell offers a hand, and I nearly pull him over as I pull myself upright. I wince at the road rash that’s covering my entire right arm, and probably part of my face.
[Coagulated activated.]
Álvaro appears at my side a few seconds later. He looks worried. About time.
“You okay, dude?” he asks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would hit that hard.”
I shake my head, my mind finally catching up with everything. The cotton in my ears is gradually fading as well. “What happened?”
“One of my charges,” Álvaro says. “I haven’t used it in a few levels. It was, uh, a lot more powerful than I was expecting.”
I look at Quell for clarification.
“It was a trap,” he says. “He planted a few spells the times you took him down. Then when the whip knocked you over, you fell directly on one of them. And, well, it blew up.”
It’s only then that I finally realize I’m not in the sparring ring anymore. Not by a longshot. Not only did that blast knock me off my feet, it must have knocked me airborne.
“You can’t use that on people,” I tell Álvaro sharply. “You’re lucky I’ve got healing spells and high Defense.”
Álvaro looks suitably humbled. “Yeah, okay. Sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to be that bad. I was just trying to knock you off your feet and disorient you so I could, I don’t know, roll you out of the ring, or something.” He offers a weak smile. “You’re heavy.”
I let out a breath. I’m going to look like a mess tonight, but the bruises should be gone tomorrow, and the scabs will start peeling soon after. No harm, no foul, I guess. At least now he knows what kind of damage it can do.
“So,” Álvaro ventures as Quell helps me to my feet. “That means I won the match, right?”
My stomach knots. “Now, hold on—”
“I knew it!” Álvaro cries, hands squeezing into fists. “I knew you wouldn’t keep your promise!”
His yell pierces my ear like a nail through my skull. “That’s not what I—”
“I won,” Álvaro snaps. “Fair and square. You have to drop the stupid tournament comments now.”
I grimace, taking a breath to say something else, but Quell squeezes my arm.
“He’s right, Nye,” he says, causing Álvaro to look bewildered, and then delighted. “You set the rules. You agreed to the outcome. You need to honor that.”
I frown at Quell, hurt and frustrated. How can he say that, when he knows what winning the tournament means? How can he say that, with Constance still carefully cloistered away from the public eye, his mind in shambles?
I want to tell him he’s wrong, I want to tell him that it’s easy for him to say, now that the Scimitar is out of his brother’s life. But then Quell gives the faintest shake of his head, and my frustration bleeds away to disappointment. Not in Quell, not in Álvaro—in myself. I should have noticed what Álvaro was doing. I should have taken him more seriously. I should have won.
I let out my breath, wearily turning to Álvaro. He’s watching me expectantly. The next words I say will either infuriate him, or doom him. How am I supposed to choose between those options?
“Álvaro,” I say. “It’s because I love you, okay? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
His face twists in disgust. He lets out a scoff as he stoops to pick up his whip, then turns his back on me and walks away.
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Why’s it got to be like this?”
Quell helps me back over to the Crimson Aegis. “Siblings,” he says, as if that explains everything.
I guess it kind of does.
The Crimson Aegis grumbles as I pick it up out of the sand. That human dropped it! How could he just leave it in the sand? Entirely disgraceful! It deserves to be revered and respected, not left to rust in the desert. The insolence! The—
Oh, hey, is that blood? I wouldn’t mind sparing a little, would I?
