DISCLAIMER: This is my first story anywhere ever. I have the following chapters in my mind but I am not sure if I have the motivation to ever finish this or even continue much further. I will write when I have the time and energy for it. Following chapters may contain sexual themes and the violence may get very detailed.
She was meant to report in at the spire on Sunstrider Isle almost an hour ago. Instead, she had sat down by the shore, further away from it all. Her sword lies by her now, the ocean's waves reaching for it's blade but in vain. She feels so rugged and worn, much like the greatsword she was given. Or "Not So Great Sword" as she had named it. Questions have been popping in her head for the past few days. The most common of them all challenges the very meaning of her life. It'd be so easy to just walk in to the sea and crawl deeper along it's bottom. The red chain mail would surely assist in her drowning. Maybe it's time - it feels like it surely is time. No wine left home. No coin to pay for her living. Can't stand the occupation that grants her the most pay, for it's gotten too vile. Cringing at her thoughts she stands up, not picking up her sword.
"Should've stayed home." She says, shivering, but not at the cool wind.
Her right ear twitches, picking up high pitched screaming from further down the shore. Someone's in terror. No - some ones are in terror. She quickly ducks to grab her sword, no time for swimming now.
A brief moment of running takes the young woman to a lynx and it's terrified prey. Two sin'dorei children taking turns trying to hide behind eachother. Their poor defensive tactics bring them against the cliff that overlooks the shoreline. They are more or less stuck.
"Oi!" She yells in an attempt to taunt the beast and brings her blade up, pointed at her target.
It worked. The lynx darts it's eyes at the armed elf and does not hesitate to act further. It's attack begins with a predictable sprint. The elf keeps her position, adjusting in to a stable pose, ready for impact. The lynx leaps forth, taking it's elven opponent's blade right through the neck and half way in to it's heavy body. It's weight pushes her back and forces her to let go of her sword not to risk a broken wrist. Soon she finds herself lying in the sand with a dying lynx lying over her legs. Calmly she pulls herself from beneath the beast and watches it's twitching motions of desperation cease along with it's breathing. The two children slowly approach her, the boy hastily wiping away tears as if to hide all proof of cowardliness while the girl has locked her moist eyes at the dead lynx. While the woman pulls her sword out of the furry corpse, a man comes down to the shore, clearly in a rush, shouting for the children.
"Are you alright? Did you get hurt? Can you both walk?" He shouts at them without being able to really catch their attention. The woman carelessly wipes her blade to her kill's fur, looking at the man running towards the scene.
"You the parent?" She asks, getting a confirming nod in return before the man drops to his knees to wrap his arms around the little elves. He looks up at the woman now tying her long, blonde hair to a pony tail.
"Yes! Yes I am, and they will remain my children, thanks to you, miss!" He stands up, keeping his hands protectively over the kid's shoulders. "I wish I could pay you back, miss-"
"Wine." The woman says bluntly. "Red. Put some bread along with it."
He stares at her confused. "That's all? Lives of two children for wine and bread?"
"Alright, no bread. Meat." She says, closing her eyes and shrugging as if she cares little. In truth she cares a lot. Her day has been made and she's certain she won't be drowning herself today.
"Well I- uh..." The man scratches the back of his head awkwardly and digs in to his pockets, to present five silver coins at her. "I got this with me." The coins are quickly snatched after the woman walks to him and takes a brief glance at her reward.
"Sweet." She says, hastily generating a fake smile at him. She beams the smirk at the children as well, though it gets genuine like her joy too. Maybe there is meaning for her after all.
"What's your name?" He asks as she walks by, but she does not answer. She doesn't even look back. She just walks on and up the hill towards the spire nearby.
Near the entrance of the spire a woman wearing red glances at her. Erona is her name - Magistrix Erona. Oh, how they loathe eachother. She also knows she's late. Her inquisitively risen brow has let her know it. She walks past her, hearing Erona's sigh pass through her perfect rows of teeth aimed at her like a bow. Inside the spire she locks eyes with Jesthenis Sunstriker, the handsome and well mannered trainer that's been teaching her. Or that she's been teaching - this is arguable. They exchange a smile and she carries on heading upstairs. A long haired man stands with his back towards her and turns around, hearing her steps. With his brow risen he peers between her face and her smutty sword, not sure which would be a nicer sight for the moment. She could swear the well watcher somehow copied Erona's expression - the exact same signals of disgust and loathing come to her from it.
"Sorry I'm late, Solanian." She says, knowing it won't do.
"It has been an hour. AN HOUR." He says, raising his chin up like a noble avoiding stink.
She does not respond but instead just stares right at him, waiting for him to carry on.
"I'm losing hope in you. Actually, I had lost hope in you already days ago after you whored yourself to those aspiring blood knights." He brings up his shoulders and looks down to her feet, shivering to further express his disgust at her.
"What ever. I still wave swords better than those two combined. Armored or not." It may have been a mistake to speak back like this, as Solanian bites his teeth together in anger.
"GO and get my scrying orb and be QUICK ABOUT IT!" He points his right index finger to the entrance of the spire and looks away from her. One could think the sight of her makes his eyes burn.
She shakes her head lightly and turns around to start making her way out. Trouble keeping a laugh back twists her lips to a sly smirk. At the bottom of the ramp she's interrupted by Jesthenis.
"Have you practiced?" He asks, totally resetting her expression.
She looks back at him, slowing down her steps, yet not stopping. "I have."
"And?" He asks, turning around as she walks by.
"Trust me." She says, feeling confident as she leaves another puzzled elf behind her. The man trusts in her and lets her carry on. He looks upstairs at Solanian with a calm smile that fades a little at the sight of the well watcher's aggressive frown.
After a few minutes of walking she's reached a pool of water, by which there is a stand for the large, red orb that is on top of it. It's Solanian's Scying Orb, and it's not light. She brings herself close to it and slips her sword under her right arm, squeezing it in place. With trouble she brings her arms undere the orb and lifts it up. It's not too heavy to lift, actually it's not terribly heavy at all - at least not for her. But she does start to plan breaks for the trip back to the spire. Her trip ends quickly as a threatening growl stops her. She drops the orb on the grass - serves Solanian right - and grabs a better hold of her sword, turning around to catch a glimpse of an elf sized tree tackling her. She falls right down on to the orb, losing her sword and pushing the orb to her left.
"For the sake of-!" Realizing it is time to act, she brings her focus to physical defence instead of verbal offense, kicking at the creature that she recognizes to be a Feral Tender. It's pushed back a tad but not enough. The elf brings her legs closer to herself to unleash a more powerful kick at her assaulter. This time it lets out a hurtful "Oof!" and begins to stumble. Leaning against her right elbow, the elf brings her left arm forth and begins to chant a spell in her mind. Holy light flashes by her palm and soon a shiny golden hammer comes down from the treetops, crashing right in to the head of the creature and then disappears as soon as it also came to be. The creature's head cracks open and it falls back to it's left. Judgement has been given. A sigh of relief flows out of the woman's mouth and gets sucked right back in as she realizes - the orb! She looks to her left where it dropped, only to find out it's been rolling towards the pool. With a loud splash it dives in deep. She stares at the surging surface of the water, giving herself a moment to consider. "Fuck the orb." She says decisively, standing up and picking her sword up with her. She won't be needing any breaks on her trip back now.
"You must be joking." Solanian claims with pressure on "must."
"Nope. It went in for a dive. Like a penguin." She says, shrugging it off as if a failed mission meant nothing.
"I'll have you SO fired, bitch!" Solanian shouted, spilling saliva in anger.
Before she could respond, Jesthenis brings his hands up forth in a calming manner. "Let's all just cool down right now." He looks between his trainee and the well watcher, raising his brows at them both. "Alright? The orb's in the bottom of the pool, but that doesn't remove the fact that this young lady is still the best swordsman on the island. She deserves a chance."
Solanian's manical stare at Jesthenis calms down slightly and he speaks. "So be it. She'll be the one to take out Felendren."
Jesthenis sighs and nods once in agreement before turning to the woman. "Only a few days back we have discovered, that a wretched known as Felendren the Banished resides in Falthrien Academy. You know where this is?"
"Not too far at all." She answers, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes, seeming focused.
"Indeed. Felendren is a wretched, thusly but a shell of his former self. However, do not underestimate him in combat. Arcane spells and decent swordsmanship is to be expected of him."
"Alright. When do I go?" She asks, only to be startled by Solanian's loud and sharp response. "NOW."
Her ears wag along with the motions of her head, which tilts from side to side almost like a fly's. "Alright then." She turns around, frowning. She's so hungry. Wine was no breakfast to begin a day like this. Jesthenis runs after her and catches her soon before the ramp down inside the spire.
"Hold on, I'll arrange you a backpack to carry his head in."
"Lovely." She says, letting her trainer walk past her for her to follow him. Together they head for the general supplies vendor in the spire. Jesthenis recieves a rugged looking backpack from the vendor seemingly free of charge. He turns to her and hands the bag over.
"Listen. Felendren is known to command a handful of minions." He puts his hand on to her shoulder, the hand getting a questioning peer from her. "Remember what I have taught you."
She wears the bag over her back and gently grasps her sword from the base of it's blade, her chain mail glove clinging noisily to it. "Alright." She says and turns around, walking out of his gentle grasp before he'd really let go.
At the ramp to the academy she stops, peering up at it's few floors. There is no real movement to be seen, other than the numerous magical crystals that float around and within it, not to mention the whole structure floating above the little bit of ocean that is between Sunstrider Isle and it's very near neighboring island. Even though no threats have made an appearance she properly grabs her blade's hilt and carries on with care, constantly observing around herself and walking with steady and silent steps. She walks up in to the second floor of the structure before an arcane wraith locks eyes with her's.
Jesthenis was right, his teachings are to be remembered. She readies herself, lifting her sword up forth. Another wraith reveals itself, moving down a ramp further to her right. Swift actions are required. She focuses entirely on the first wraith she spotted, already nearing her with it's claws reaching for her. The elf brings her left palm over her blade, chanting to it. The sword glimmers and she brings it down to her left and steps forth with her right leg, swinging her now enchanted sword at the wraith soon to reach her. The enchant is unleashed in the attack, holy energy crashing in to the magical being like a thunderbolt destroying a tree. The wraith backs off forcefully and with suffering screeches dies away, leaving behind only a pile of dust.
She lowers her sword and brings her right hand closer to herself, chanting another spell. Then she turns her head to the right and locks her gaze with the other wraith, still further away from her, but approaching quickly. She points her palm at the creature and releases her spell, dropping another golden hammer at another victim from above. The spell has for a while been her favourite - so dramatic. It seems to be more than enough as the hammer almost entirely penetrates it's victim before disappearing, leaving behind a shattered form of arcane, evaporating to death. She raises her sword up again, holding a steady combat pose and taking a careful look around herself to scan the area for additional enemies. Surely the commotion has alerted something, or someone. As nothing else can be spotted by her, she continues to the ramp on the right, hastily jogging her way to the highest level of the academy.
A wretched male kneels at the other side of the highest floor. His gray ears twitch as the noise of chain mail collides with them. "You must be Felendren." She says, confirming her presence before she starts to sprint at him. Felendren stands up and turns to her hastily. The wretched man has successfully hidden his arcane spellcasting behind his body and now hurls an unexpected arcane missile right at his attacker. Caught off-guard she takes the blast to her chest, pieces of red cloth and chain mail links flying around as she too takes a quick fly back towards the ramp, falling down just in time to halt before reaching the edge. She stands up with trouble, staring at the wretched. He takes quick steps towards her, grinning victoriously. The elf's green eyes dart to the light looking scimitar in Felendren's right hand, held forth. She lets go of her sword and stands up, bringing her mail covered fists up to form a ready fighting pose. The wretched stops and narrows it's eyes, not really believing what he's witnessing. He begins to chant another spell, and this moment the woman seizes to again run at the wretched. She's too fast, there is no time for the spell to be cast and this miscalculation leads Felendren in to trouble as he recieves a straight forward kick to his face, interrupting his spell casting. The blow sends him a few steps back and he swings his sword at her in vain, the woman being out of reach. Her surprisingly swift right leg sweeps at his sword holding arm, hitting it's wrist roughly. With this one move she has successfully disarmed the wretched elf.
He instantly panics and doesn't manage to defend himself unarmed against the swift swings of chain mail covered fists at his face and chest. While he struggles to maintain balance, a slow, yet strong kick to his stomach sends him down to his knees. "Huaaa!" He screams, all air escaping his lungs. Soon he finds himself grasping on to a pair of arms holding him in place, one around his neck, the other around his left shoulder.
"Now I know why you need minions." She speaks to his ear. "Because you're nothing but a weak little shit." And to these words his life ends with the snap of his neck.
After cutting Felendren's head with her not so great sword she stuffs it in to the backpack that was given to her. She stands up to her feet and wears the bag again, turning to face the ramp she'd soon walk down if there wasn't a pair of arcane wraiths staring right at her. They begin to approach and as she brings her sword up, preparing to enchant it's blade with holy, she spots another few wraiths lurking up the ramp.
"Nope." She says and immediately changes her plan, making a quick run to her left to reach the edge of the floor. She peeks down and immediately recognizes a straight line down in to - water. It may be her best hope. She quickly looks towards the ramp, from where even more wraiths have started their way to her, the first ones soon to catch her. She drops herself down from the edge, staring down at the mass of water that seems to approach her at an immense speed. She closes her eyes and straightens her back and neck, ready for impact. A deep breath of air and - suddenly she can only hear the hum of the ocean.
She tries to swim upwards but feels herself only sinking. Opening her eyes narrowly she recognizes mud and rocks in front of her. Did she reach the bottom? She looks down to her feet. No, the bottom seems to be way deeper below her. She looks up, seeing the surface. It's moving away from her. She lets go of her sword and grasps at the wall of mud before her with her hands, stopping her descent successfully. Her feet struggle to kick her chain mail boots off and she reaches down with her right hand to quickly loosen them. The idea of grasping for air lurks in her mind. Surely it'd feel better to just let go. The game's over. The cold water has sinisterly intruded through her chain mail, inviting her to stay. She feels so heavy. She sinks her feet in to the mud and begins to climb up the steep wall of mud and cliff, up towards the surface. Little by little she ascends, almost feeling the last bits of oxygen burn in her body. Soon her left hand grasps for nothing and she realizes she's made it to the top. She pulls herself up and as soon as she feels air touching her scalp she gives in and takes half a lungful of water in before her head is wholly on the surface. She crawls further in the shallow water, trying to get as far from the sudden deep she'd hit, coughing water while trying to get proper breaths. After reaching the shore she lies down to her side, peering up at the treetops. She had really made it and it felt exhausting, yet rewarding.