Jacob was shoved forwards again, fumbling blindly along and almost tripling over his own feet in the sand. Every so often he would receive another shove, sometimes even feeling a hand clamp on his shoulder and steer him the right way. He slowly started counting the steps in his head, hoping that he could find his way out if the need arrived. The feel of sand beneath his feet faded rapidly as it gave way to the more solid touch of stone. His hands instinctively raised as he stumbled again, being swatted down with what felt like metal. Something, or rather someone pulled them behind his back and started tying a chunk of leather around his wrists. .
"Sara?" he called out, voice being muffled by the cloth over his head. He heard her shush him from somewhere on his right.
After another dozen or so paces, his escort grabbed his shoulder and held him firm. For a few seconds, he stood in silence and began to wonder what was happening. He shook his head in an attempt to move the cloth, hoping to find a spot he could see through, but ultimately failed. Another cold metallic slap landed on his bound hands causing him to flinch, making him silently grumble. A few more minutes of silence passed before he managed to hear voices, talking in the same language again. He listened intently, managing to pick out a few words but not making much sense of them other. Here...craft...beloved? What are you saying? He thought to himself, trying his hardest to concentrate. He heard a male bark a few words from behind him but before he could translate them, he felt something strike the backs of his legs. With a groan and a thud, he came crashing down to his knees and almost pitched forwards onto his face.
"It is good to see you beloved," Came a light females voice Jacob swore sounded familiar. "It's been a long time."
"You could say time has...gotten away from me," he heard Sara reply, picturing her grinning as she did.
"I heard of your sister's passing...my deepest condolences for your loss," The woman went on.
"I feel the loss of her friendship as well."
"It hasn't been easy," Sara admitted. "But thank you. That's sort of why i'm here…"
"You know i cannot….i will not… use the Pit to bring her back," The woman replied bitterly.
"I wouldn't dare ask, not after knowing what it did to me." Sara confirmed.
"Then why are you here?" The woman asked, Jacob able to hear her stepping closer. "And why bring someone unknown to us?"
"Well it's rather complicated but," he heard her sigh. "I'd like you to meet my nephew."
Silence filled the room again. After a lengthy pause, the female barked a command. Suddenly the cloth over Jacobs head was snatched off, his hair flying all around his face and blinding him with the sudden light. He squinted, blinking slowly and trying to identify his surroundings.
Time felt like it had suddenly stopped as Jacob gazed around the chamber they stood in. Several pillars surrounded them, all seemingly cut from the stone of the mountain. Dozens of candle filled stands sent shadows dancing against the walls. The whole room felt like it had a glow to it, whether it came from the stone or the candles he couldn't be certain. He blinked a few times, taking in the beauty of it all. Several figures stood surrounding them, with more on each side of the pillars. The smell of leather and beeswax floated around the room, mixing with a hint of sweat and a smoaky herbal scent. It all felt familiar to him, but yet was inherently different. His eyes adjusted and he came face to face with Nyssa, mentally kicking himself for not recognizing her voice.
"What is your name, boy?" She asked, her gaze making him feel like she was looking at his soul.
"Jacob Lance," he replied, returning the gaze.
"And your parents?" she asked unblinkingly.
"Laurel Lance and Oliver Queen." he answered quickly.
She remained silent for a second, eyes still on him before barking another command. He felt the sudden press of metal against his hands before hearing a slice. The leather wrapping his wrists fell to the floor, leaving his hands free. With a sigh, he rubbed them both.
"Give me your hands," she commanded, stepping closer and holding out her own. He silently obeyed, lightly touching her skin.
"Now tell me again, who are your parents," she pressed, grasping each of his hands with her first two fingers over his wrists.
"Laurel Lance and Oliver Queen," he stated simply, becoming increasingly aware of how warm her flesh was.
Her eyes locked with his again and she peered into them, hands tightening on him.
"It is true." she said after a few seconds, lightly letting go of him but not breaking her gaze. "They are a part of you."
"You see it too huh?" Sara put in with a smirk.
"I see there is also something more, something between you and him," Nyssa added, looking from both Jacob and Sara.
Sara went silent, jaw clamping shut as Jacob looked away.
"What is this favor you've come to ask?" She asked, turning and walking away, a sly smile upon her lips.
"Well," Sara coughed. "I was hoping you would train Jacob in the ways of the League. He has ample reason to fight."
"And you cannot?" She asked turning around with a frown now on her face. "You know our ways as well as any."
"Can we talk in private?" Sara asked, avoiding the question.
With a wave, Nyssa dismissed the surrounding figures; they silently slipped away through hidden doors and from the way they lead in. Sara walked up to her and lowered her voice.
"I almost got him killed," she admitted in a whisper. "Hell i did get him killed, then somehow he came back. He killed an entire room full of trained soldiers Nyssa, saying something about a Baron controlling him. I don't know what to make of it and i hoped he would be safe here, maybe help him with it like your father helped me with my blood lust."
"I know not of any barons," Nyssa replied in an equal whisper. "But things have changed here. Before i can train him, he must pass the test."
"Test? What test?" Sara asked frustrated and confused.
"Come," she urged, waving with her hand and gently escorting her back to where Jacob stood.
"Jacob Lance," Nyssa called, raising her voice and turning to stand directly in front of him. "You have come to this place in search of knowledge and guidance, have you not?"
"I…" he paused, looking at Sara who gave him a slight nod. "I have."
"It is not a matter to be taken lightly," Nyssas urged, locking her piercing gaze on him again. "You could die, or worse….you could fail."
"I will not fail." He stated clearly, hands forming fists at his side.
"Very well then, brothers, sisters," She called, raising her voice even louder and raising her hands. "Prepare yourself."
Sara approached his side and grasped his closest hand firmly.
"I Have no idea what they're going to throw at you, so, good luck," She whispered, giving his hand a squeeze.
"I will not fail," he repeated, looking down and smiling into her eyes.
She returned the smile before she was pulled away gently by Nyssa.
"Come beloved," she urged, steering her to a safe distance.
Jacob turned in a circle, watching as a dozen figures almost materialized from the walls around him. Each one was clad in the leather and metallic gear of a league member. They paused just out of reach from him, one holding a wooden staff stepping closer and tossing it to him. He snatched it out of the air, looking around at his attackers weaponry.
"Hardly seems fair," he muttered, getting the best grip he could on it. "What am i supposed to do with this?"
"Defend yourself," came a female voice from behind him with the accompanied sing of a blade slicing through air.
He managed to spin around in time to barley twist out of the way as the blade passed mere inches from his shoulder. With a grunt, he fell to the side and scrambled to get back up and face his attacker. The figure turned, giving its curved blade a slight spin in its hand as it did. Jacob grasped the staff in both hands, waiting for the next attack to come when he felt the sudden thud of a boot on his back. He pitched forward, barely catching himself in time to roll into a kneeling position as another blade sliced through the air. With a loud smack, the side connected with his left hand and sent a sharp jolt of pain radiating through his arm. The staff wobbled in his hand as he lashed out at an oncoming attack. Unfortunately the attacker sidestepped it easily, countering with the hilt of its sword. A dull thud echoed as metal met the side of Jacob's head, sending him spinning dazed to the floor.
"Get up…" Sara whispered from beside Nyssa. "Dammit kid get up."
Jacob blinked and shook his head, groaning when the movement intensified the pain now spreading through his jaw. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another figure quickly closing the distance and raising a foot to stomp down on his head. With a hard shove to the ground and gripping his staff closer to his chest, he rolled away, managing to get a glimpse of a darkened leather boot sending up a puff of dust where his head once was. He pushed himself up to a kneel again, bringing the staff up in both hands to stop a downwards strike aimed for his head. The staff shattered under the weight of the blow, splitting its length into two pieces between his hands; the swords tip landing just in front of him. He looked down at the two pieces and grinned, much to everyone's surprise.
This i can work with, he thought to himself as he stood up. Another attacked rushed forwards in front of him, swinging its blade in a diagonal line. Jacob grinned, meeting the blade with his left half and pushing it away before slamming his right down as hard as he could on the figures wrist. Another loud crack echoed, accompanying the clattering of steel on stone as the weapon fell helplessly to the floor. Jacob followed his movement through, lowering his shoulder and launching himself into the figures chest. He heard the omph of air being expelled from a person's chest as he slammed into it, knocking the person off balance and clattering to the ground. With a little bit of effort, he managed to roll over the persons body and turn, coming up in a kneeling position and facing the way he had came. A sideways swipe greeted him, causing him to barely duck underneath, feeling with sudden shift of air above him. As the blow moved away, he launched both his sticks upwards. They connected with the persons masked hood, sending out a crack and rolling its head back. His momentum carried his arms up higher, not being able to recover quick enough to block a low swing towards his belly. The cold steel tip sliced through the cloth of his shirt and he felt warm blood begin to trickle down. Ignoring the pain as best he could, he brought both sticks down, slamming them into the the figures shoulder before snapping one into its head. The figure dropped to the ground and Jacob heard a groan as it stayed there. One down...he thought to himself as he turned to his right. A fist came flying towards his shoulder, connecting and spinning his body around. He moved with the momentum, dropping low and swinging both his broken sticks into the owners leg. The figure cried out, revealing itself to be a woman before he snapped his left stick up into her jaw, accompanying her cry with the sound of wood meeting skull. Two...Another slash came down, slicing cleanly through the cloth on his left shoulder and parting flesh. Blood seeped through, leaving red splashes on the stone. More pain shot through Jacobs body, causing him to grow even angrier. He lashed out with a kick, catching the attacker in the knee and causing the person to pitch forward. Using all the strength he could, he slammed his fist into the hood. With a sickening squelch, blood began to soak the cloth and the figure slumped to the ground. Three. He felt leather on the back of his neck as someone grabbed him from behind, yanking him to his feet. He struggled against the grasp, slamming both elbows backwards in hopes of connection. With a sharp spike of pain in his left, he felt his elbow hit something and the hand was gone from his neck. Something slammed into his back, throwing him off his feet and over the wounded figure in front of him. With a groan and a thud, he hit the stone floor, leaving a crimson trail behind him. He could hear the scrape of leather on stone as the figure started to approach him carefully. With a grunt and a push of all his might, he lifted himself up from the dirt, prepared to defend himself yet again. Unfortunately he was not fast enough to deflect another strike slicing across in front of him, shredding through the front of his shirt. He winced as the searing pain, blood splashing upwards onto his face and slowly dripping down his chest. A weight suddenly descended on his arms, dropping them to his side. He fought against it, sluggishly raising his arms up and swinging blindly around him. The figures slowly inched forwards, deftly dodging his weak strikes. Blood began to ripple down his face from a cut he hadn't felt. Slowly his vision began to darken,
"Come on then," he mumbled, trying to stand up and staggering. "I will not die on my knees. Come on!"
The figures advanced one last time, raising their various weapons to strike.
"Muealaq," Nyssa called, holding up her hand. The figures all froze, hoods snapping in her direction. "He has passed the first trial."
In unison, the remaining standing figures sheathed their weapons, metal scraping against metal echoing around the room. Several of the downed figures, groaned, rolling and trying to stand up.
"Al'Thaeban, Al'Faar see him properly attended to," Nyssa commanded.
The two she named removed their hoods, revealing themselves to be a man and a woman. With a grunt, they pulled Jacob to his feet, draping his arms between them and half dragged him from the room. The rest followed suit, pulling other figures to their feet, each slowing removing his or her hoods.
"What the hell Nyssa," Sara all but screamed, grabbing Nyssas arm and spinning the brunette around to face her as the last person vacated the room. "You said you were going to test him, not almost kill him!"
"Things have changed since your departure, beloved," Nyssa spat, removing the hand from her arm roughly. "He has passed the first trial, you should be proud."
"First trial?" Sara asked aghast. "What do you mean passed? He couldn't even stand up."
"Walk with me," she offered, gesturing forward with a gloved hand. Without waiting for an answer, Nyssa headed off down a corridor.
With a grumble to herself and an audible sigh, Sara set off after the woman.
"Are you going to explain why you almost killed my nephew?" Sara asked, catching up to her.
"We needed to test not only his strength, but also his will to survive," Nyssa explained. "Someone who will fight to the bitter end. Despite being outnumbered, at a severe disadvantage and wounded, he continued to fight. He passed."
"And if he hadn't?" Sar asked bitterly, glaring at the woman.
"Well then he would have perished." She replied flatly.
"I don't like you gambling on his life…" Sara started.
'What would you have me do?" Nyssa growled, abruptly stopping and spinning on her heels to face Sara. "Would you have me train him on a child's whim like my father? Do you want another Malcolm Merlyn set loose upon the world?"
Sara went silent for a minute, knowing full well she was right.
"I am doing everything i can to salvage some semblance of a purpose after dissolving The League," Nyssa continued. "Those few who are loyal, look to me. I will not be an oppressive and tyrannical ruler like my father, i won't."
"What else do you have planned for him?" Sara asked quietly, looking up into her beautiful brown eyes.
"We have designed three trials in which a person must pass before I allow any training to commence. The next trial will test him mentally, i cannot guarantee his safety nor his advance. You are welcome to stay and see him through, we have a room prepared for you."
Sara bit her lip, a worried look spreading across her face before finally nodding.
"This way then," Nyssa urged, smiling and gesturing down the corridor.