War of whips
War of whips
Author: SPIRITBONE
Duel of princes

He stood observing the men before him, enduring the harsh harmattan breeze that sucked all moisture from his skin. He saw some of them show signs of their displeasure and he frowned, staring them down with his orange eyes, tightening his fists. They were Tije. The Royal army that was made up only of the king's sons. They were his brothers, so to speak but they were not a part of the princes. They did not have the curse about them. 

He had a thousand and eighty six brothers of which he was the five hundred and fifty fourth. But he ranked far above them because he was a Viner. His father was the emperor of the dried lands, a place that had been known as Nigeria before the great eruption, five thousand years ago. An event that obliterated the lands beyond the seas and birthed the first of the cursed. His father had tried to bear cursed sons and even after countless tries over five thousand years, he had birthed only four who possessed one out of the three curses. He had gathered the rest of his sons and turned them into Tije; a battalion of highly trained, mutated men that possessed heightened senses, increased strength, speed and agility. He had given them armor and swords made of sandsteel but they were expendable to him as he prized only his cursed sons. 

The young man observed the pink sun and a shadow of a smile flew across his lips. A new year was coming. His twentieth year of existence. The year it was promised that he would go to battle, the year he got to choose a wife, not that there was any urgency to it. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and focusing on the task at hand. He frowned, wondering where Elek was. The man always seemed to enjoy keeping people waiting. 

He had barely run through the thought when the sands swirled beside him and he rolled his eyes, watching Elek slowly come up from within the ground. Elek smiled at him; a calm cold thing that made the deepest of scowls seem flowery. He ran his hand through his thick, black, braided hair, totally free from dust and sand despite where he had come from, advantages of him being a Sander. He turned towards the men, his broad, powerful chest expanding to impossible breadths with every breath and he clenched his fists in obvious irritation, making the muscles of his arm writhe under his tattooed skin. Elek was the first son of the emperor and commander of the entire black army. He had fought alongside the emperor during the sand wars, three thousand years after the great eruption and he was instrumental in the victory against the formless priests and the whip masquerades. 

"Where are our brothers, Idem?" He asked, gritting his teeth in a deeply irritating way that made Idem struggle awhile with his temper.

"I have not seen them in a few days. I thought you would know." Idem said and spat into the dust. Elek observed him quietly for awhile then shrugged, turning to the men. Both of them waited patiently. It was time for the duel of princes. It was held once every  fifty days, a rule made by the emperor himself and it was observed by the emperor and the Tije. 

" They had better come here before he arrives" Elek said, scowling and Idem bit his tongue, reining in his nervousness. The emperor would not tolerate this disrespect and they would all endure the punishment that came with it. All of them except Elek. There was a respect the emperor gave him that was given to no one else. Idem looked at the sky and saw it darkening. He suddenly felt a sudden, inexplicable fear hit him like a fist. He turned to Elek who had a deep frown on his face. He felt it too. The utter dread that hit any man whenever the emperor was close.

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