Destiny: Book of Light by Paul Allen

to the other side of the bar and spoke to a group of men that looked to be veteran sailors. The old school hard men. Then she left the bar, indicating to Sean to stay, as she did so.
Time passed and as it did Sean drifted further into the haze that surrounded him. Paranoia started to get the better of him as he heard whispers in the room that he was convinced were about him. Eyes glared.
An old man shuffled past, ale in one hand and an ancient relic of a sword in the other. As he did so he stumbled and fell into Sean.
    "Watch it you bowl of rat piss!" shouted the old man as he stumbled back from Sean, struggling to retain his balance and sizing himself up to a figure he could barely focus on.
    "I'm sorry Sir, here you spilt your ale, let me get you another."
"Too late for that boy, you've insulted me honour. It's to the death." He smashed his glass on the ground and struggled to lift his sword above his head.
    As he did so Sean noticed the rest of the bar closing in, and hands goin to their sword hilts, some to guns. He knew he didn't stand a chance here and thought it best to try deflate the old man. He drew his sword quickly and the whole bar reacted by drawing theirs, but he held it out slowly and gently placed it on the ground in front of him.
    "I mean no disrespect Sir, but you stumbled into me. I am merely passing through here and I have no want for trouble."
"I did no such thing, how dare you!" He took a swing at Sean but his old feeble arms were slow and easy to see coming. Sean had no trouble avoiding it. What he did have trouble avoiding was the second swing which came from the right of him. He jumped forward in a roll but he still managed to get clipped on the ear. Blood poured as he disarmed the old man and put the ancient blade to his throat.
    "Nobody fucking move or I'll cut his fucking throat!" Sean roared, slowly edging him and the old man to the door, as the whole bar slowly edged towards him, swords drawn.
An old sailor seemed to be the spokesman for the locals. "Take it easy there now stranger, there be no need for violence here."
"I never asked for violence, you lot brought the violence on me, I was just minding my business."
"Then put your sword down and we can discuss this?" asked the sailor still edging his way closer.
Sean laughed, "Can't do that boss, last time I tried to talk, your man took a chunk off my ear, how about you lot put yer swords down and then I'll talk."
"I don't think you're in a position to be bargaining there stranger, you ain't getting out of this alive if you don't do as I say."
"Maybe, but I guarantee that me, and Pops here won't be the only ones passing the gates if ye keep drawing closer." said Sean still edging to the door and the bar of blades still edging to him.
The old sailor spoke. "Fuck it lads he doesn have the balls lets......"
Sean roared "Put up your hand!" The old man did so, hesitantly. As he did Sean swung the sword and in hares heartbeat the old mans hand was on the floor and he was screaming. The whole pub took a step back and swords began to lower. Sean had to struggle to keep the man upward as he continued with a little more urgency than before.
"Fuck him lads he can't get away with this!" Swords went up in the air and the whole bar moved forward simultaneously. In the last moment when Sean was just about to face steel, a scream roared through the bar. A female scream.
    "Stop! He's with me." It was Vulita.
    She had come in the back door and the crowd parted as she walked through the bar. It was obvious to Sean, who now lowered his sword, that she did have the same strength in her as Sarah. Nobody in the bar questioned her or stood in her way. She came to the old man and Sean.
    "Now Fremus, I know you well enough to know that you started all this yourself." She looked at him in the way a Mother would look at a naughty sibling. "My friend here would not have struck at you if you hadn't deserved it and he wasn't in fear for his life. So take your hand and go see Dr