Chapter 1:
He Looks Familiar
Day was dawning on the kingdom of Amaresk. There was complete silence except for the wind ruffling the leaves of the maple trees. It was at about this hour that the gold miners left their homes quietly and headed for the dark and humid underground tunnels. The early silence, however, was broken by the clashing of metal which echoed across the mountaintops.
Eighteen year old Ikthar was sparring with his powerful master, Zekthoran, in the grounds facing toward the Crab Forest. He charged and attempted to attack the white haired old man with his steel long sword. Zekthoran stepped swiftly to the right, grabbed Ikthar's left arm and thrust him on the grass with great force. He pointed a small knife to his throat.
"Ikthar, if you just charge like that with no plan, you will surely be killed. The point of this training is for you to think, to find a weak spot and use it to your advantage," lectured Zekthoran stroking his short beard.
"Oh, but I have. There seems to be one thing you overlooked," Ikthar grinned. He pulled a thin clear string he had been concealing and from above Zekthoran, a large variety of blades fell from a net concealed in the trees overhead. He dodged them but smiled.
"That was a very clever move, Ikthar. Not even I expected that one coming. I'm pretty sure no one else could have dodged that attack. I remember about five years ago when you could barely hold a sword. You kept on complaining and giving up and I always repeated to you the same words-"
"Complaining will not get you anywhere," Ikthar interrupted while getting up, "Hard work and practice will."
"Good job, my pupil," he said. They walked back into the 3 roomed, thatch roofed cottage for breakfast. Ever since Ikthar's parents left for the war against the goblins for their killing of innocents, he was under care by Zekthoran, whom had trained with Ikthar for as long as he remembered. No news of his parents' status has been received.
******
About two months later, the day came that changed Ikthar's life. During another one of his sparring sessions, three strange men showed up at the door of their house. Ikthar and Zekthoran had very rarely received visitors other than mail carrying birds and stray hounds looking for food. The master and his student came inside from the sparring grounds out back and answered the door.
There were three men standing there. One was a short, stout, dwarf-like man with brown hair and a long beard. The man next to him was tall and muscular. He had no hair on his head and a small locked beard. He was covered in scars and cuts from which Ikthar deducted were battle marks. The third was a tall, slender man with blonde hair at about shoulder length. He carried a carved wooden staff that Ikthar guessed was used for magic.
There was one thing that these three men had in common. They all bore a patch with a symbol of a sword and shield and the letters W.G. written in fine gold on their chest. Ikthar recognized that as the symbol of the prestigious fighting academy known as 'The Warrior's Guild.' Only the finest fighters were accepted. Some of the most famous heroes in history have trained there. Once you become 15 years of age, you are eligible to enter after a few judges from the school evaluate your fighting skills to see if you are good enough to become a student.
Ikthar's heart leapt. They were here to evaluate his skills, weren't they? He had always dreamed of being in a guild, but he never once thought he would be in the best one there was. The shortest one said in a deep voice, "We are from the Warrior's Guild, you must be Zekthoran. Is this the prized student you informed us about in your letter?" Ikthar never recalled his master sending a letter to the guild. But at least he knew how they knew.
"Yes, this is him. He just turned eighteen recently. I expect great things from this boy," said Zekthoran putting his hand on Ikthar's dark-brown hair.
"Well, this boy, Ikthar, needs to be put to the test. Ah, yes, I almost forgot to introduce myself," said the man with the staff. "I am Zeke," he said and bowed.
"I am Hayden," said the scarred one.
"And I am Zion, Zeke's brother," said the dwarf-like one.
"Well, I assume you have a sparring area somewhere here?" asked Hayden. "This boy must battle one of our warriors."
"Ah, yes, it is out back," said Zekthoran leading them to the training ground in the back. Ikthar was deep in thought as he followed. He was going to be pit against a real warrior. He would no longer be some anonymous soldier who died in combat. People who have been to that guild became generals and well known fighting experts on the battlefield. If Ikthar was accepted, he would be a specialist in all areas of combat and could fight as a general, or better! His parents, who were in the war, were simple front line soldiers whom the King does not even care for. He couldn't mess up in this battle or else he would die unknown.
"Here we are," said Zekthoran as they arrived into the grounds. There were several oak and maple trees surrounding the area. The grass was lush green in some areas yet mostly had dirt spots everywhere from the sparring matches Ikthar had with his master.
"Well, I'd best explain the test," said Hayden. "We shall summon one of our warriors as I mentioned before. But be warned, the challenges you face in the guild will be more difficult than this man."
"We will give you scores after the battle from one to ten based on these three categories: Skill, power, and intelligence. We will add up the scores and if you achieve a 25 or higher, you pass, however, any less than 25, and we will fail you," said Zion.
"Well, if you have any questions speak up," there was a short silence after Zeke spoke. "Very well then, I shall summon the warrior." He tapped the ground with the bottom of his staff. Zeke muttered an incomprehensible incantation. After a few moments, a shapeless shadow rose from the ground and just stood there for a second. It slowly began to take form as Ikthar stared at it confused. "He…looks familiar." It shaped itself as the thing he had least expected it to be.
"It's…It's me!" Ikthar said surprised. And he was correct. The shadow was now shaped just like Ikthar, leather armor and all. "I'm supposed to fight…me?" he asked.
"Why yes," said Hayden. "Xethor is a shape shifter who knows all of your moves and attack styles. What could be more challenging?"
"A dragon, a pack of giants, a mage, an archer, I can think of thirty more, this is too easy! If I know that he fights exactly like I do, then what's the point of it?" Ikthar asked.
"Oh, you will find out the point," Zion grinned. "Step into the fighting area please."
Ikthar and Xethor stepped in. Zeke raised his staff and a magical barrier appeared around them. "Oh, and we are not responsible if you die."
Ikthar gulped. "If you are ready, we will begin." Zion said. "3…2…1…you may start.
With amazing speed, Xethor ran toward Ikthar and cast a bind spell at him. "I…Can't…move!!" he yelled.
Xethor slashed at him and left a huge gash on his right arm. The blood gushed out and he held in his scream of pain. Once the spell broke, Xethor was on the other side of the ground.
"I never could use magic! How can he, I thought he did exactly what I do!" Ikthar said confused
"Think about it," began Hayden. "How many people do you think have been in the Guild before? Xethor has fought all of them. He has gained each and every one of their powers. You thought he would just know your moves?" he grinned
So they were serious when they said it would be challenging. Ikthar foolishly took this too lightly, directly disobeying his master by underestimating a foe. He got up as if nothing had happened and got into his fighting stance. He quickly pulled three throwing knives from his weapon pouch and threw them at Xethor with shocking speed. Xethor raised his hand and a faint purple wall appeared in front of him. The iron knives hit it and fell leaving Xethor unharmed.
"I've got to admit, this guy is a pain in the ass but he does make me look powerful by using my body like that," Ikthar thought. "I need to be creative in hitting this guy…"
Xethor simply stood there and in the blink of an eye, created an arrow shape from lightning that came from his hands. He sent the arrow directly at Ikthar's chest. This would have surely killed him if he hadn't dove to the right. The arrow missed him by inches and he was on the floor. As he began to catch his breath, the ground below him rose in a sharp spike form and sent Ikthar into the air. He coughed up some blood as he was still in the air. There was no way to strike Xethor's face, because he guarded it so well. As he was falling he realized something. The back of his armor had a hole in it from his training. This meant that Xethor, who had the same armor, also had a hole in the back! Also, the force field only covered his front side. Find a way to Xethor's back and he was done for.
Ikthar hit the ground with a thud and vomited. He shouldn't have eaten so much breakfast. As he got up, he ran to Xethor and jumped when he was five feet from him. He jumped directly over the faint force field and kicked Xethor in the nose, causing it to bleed. This would do some minor damage, but to finish him, he would have to strike somewhere more effective. But how would he reach Xethor's back without him turning back and stopping him?
As Xethor got up recovering from his blow, he wiped the blood off of his nose and made the force field cover him entirely, wasting more energy. "Great, now I have to break it somehow…" Ikthar thought. He tried to remember what Zekthoran had taught him but he recalled nothing about force fields. He was on his own.
While he was deep in thought and so he did not notice Xethor appear behind him. When Ikthar turned around he was greeted by a firm punch in the nose, making him fall down. "An eye for an eye…" said Xethor in a sinister voice. There it was, this was his chance! There was an opening in the force field where he had stuck his arm to punch.
Ikthar pushed himself up with incredible speed and threw a knife straight through the hole and into Xethor's shoulder. He covered up the wound with his other hand leaving him quite vulnerable. At that moment, he kicked Xethor directly in the chin through the hole so he flew up in the air. Ikthar jumped as high as he could to reach him. He punched the force field multiple times and slashed at it with his sword.
It must have been a weak force field because it broke rather easily. As they were still in the air, Ikthar was ready to stab his back. As he was about to triumph in his moment of truth, Xethor flipped over sideways and slammed Ikthar straight in the face with his foot, causing him to drop his sword and hit the ground with a thud. Xethor lightened his landing with some unknown magic. Even in this time where he had a perfect shot, he had still missed. For a second, Ikthar thought about giving up and just throwing in the towel. He quickly brushed away these thoughts and got back up. As he stood, a sharp stabbing pain ran up his spine like a sword. He had fallen on the spike that Xethor created. A large chunk of flesh was missing from his back.