Hi everyone! What a wonderful day to thank Ice for beta'ing all these chapters. Here's another!
Chapter 6 - Fiyr
"But I wanna know!" I complain as Graie practically drags me out by my ear.
"Don't give them any reason to be smugger than they already are!" he shoots back, and we make it through the doors of the castle. "They want you to fawn over them, demanding to know how the Gathering was. Don't give them the satisfaction!"
I groan as we make it out into the cool morning air. The sun is just a sliver of gold on the horizon as the day dawns and the leaves are still soaked with dew. Mist hangs over the forest, not washed away by the sunlight yet.
"You don't want to be late again, do you? I bet you the knights are already up and waiting!" Graie exclaims, then lowers his voice into a gruff and terrible imitation of Sir Hartef. "Graie and Fiyr, late again. You'll be washing up after dinner for the next thousand years. Really Graie, I'd think you'd put some more effort in now that—"
"G—good morning," a timid voice interrupts Graie's performance. The boy I barely met in the healer's wing on my first day stands on the leaves in front of us. He's tall and skinny as a bone and as pale as one too.
"Ravne!" Graie grins widely and claps him on the shoulder.
The skinny boy squeals and scuttles backwards. "That's the one that got hit! Be careful!"
Graie makes a guilty face, but it melts into delight. "Finally, back on your feet huh? Those Rivien bubs sure did a number on you."
"Yeah," Ravne grumbles, rotating his shoulder with a hand on it gently, wincing. "Sir Cawle wants me back in training right away. Shhhhh—shhhoulder's still sore though."
"Your shoulder?" Graie demands. "What about your hair?!"
His hair? I wonder, examining the other squire that I've only ever seen on a hospital bed and collapsing from exhaustion. What about it? Ah right, it was longer, wasn't it?
It looked like it had been hacked at a couple days ago, clumpy and slashed.
"Yeah, but Sir Cawle's always wanted me to cut it anyways," Ravne says softly, shrugging and then wincing again.
"But it's the best hair!" Graie protests.
Ravne sighs again. I know before he had some kind of long braid, but now it's trimmed down to soft tendrils around his neck.
"It kept falling out, so Spottalia Lief just cut it," he sighs, running a hand through it.
"He used to have a braid down to his knees," Graie explains to me quickly. "Ravne has the best hair."
The other squire's pale skin flushes. "Hair didn't stop my shoulder from getting dislocated."
"Injuries happen to all knights. You shouldn't complain; bear pain in silence," a lower grunt declares from behind us.
I whip around to face Tigre Cawle, the burly amber-eyed man who just spoke.
"Yyyy—yyy—yessir," Ravne stammers, so quietly it sounds like he's choking on his words as he stutters through the polite reply.
Huh? His voice before wasn't exactly dripping with confidence, but he didn't sound like he was terrified of conversation. Not like now…
"Come on, let's not waste more time. We're going to practice hunting," Sir Hartef says briskly, coming up beside Sir Cawle. "Squires, fetch your horses. Ravne, your horse is in the stable on the far left with your sword."
Ravne perks up a bit, a glimmer of interest in his eyes.
"Hurry up," Sir Cawle grunts. "We'll be at the base of the tree."
Graie, Ravne, and I hurry back to the squires' stables, where Ravne leads a sleek black horse with a white dash on its forehead out of his stable, a circle with a feather carving on the door.
"Ooh," Graie marvels. "What'd you name her?"
"Lenore," Ravne answers with a shy smile. "Out of some old poem I found in the library."
I busy myself with trying to sort out Blitz's harnesses and many buckles like Sir Strommer gave me a crash course on yesterday, and it's not as impossible as it was, but I'm certainly not as quick as either the knight or Graie.
"So, did you summon for the battle?" Graie quizzes eagerly.
"I don't want to talk about the battle," Ravne mumbles, fiddling with a pendant he's wearing. I squint at it; it's a black feather and a purple stone hanging off a black cord. I guess jewelry is more important to people in these kingdoms than it was to the servants back at the gods' place. I glance down at the red glass ring on my finger that I'm not sure if I'm allowed to take off or not.
"Ready to go?" Graie asks me, already hopping atop Quicksilver.
"Yep," I reply, running my hand through Blitz's mane, still marvelling at the fact that I own a horse now. Adjusting to this life might be easier than I thought.
"Let's ride," Ravne says, wheeling his horse around to bring them at a steady pace towards the hole in the foliage, large enough for a horse, that we used on my first day. I lead Blitz onto the hole.
We've barely lost our balance when I feel a hum in my ears and a tang in my mouth before I'm suddenly in a different place entirely. I'm only disoriented for a moment before I realize I'm at the base of the tree.
I stare up into the treetops, trying to pinpoint where the castle is located and to see if I can spot Graie, when there's another hum, but quieter, as he appears beside me.
"We're going to the outskirts of a nearby town. They have training grounds there that are what we'll need for today," Sir Hartef announces. "Remember, you're representing the future of Thundria, so don't do anything you wouldn't do in front of the queen."
"Translation: don't be an idiot," Graie mumbles to me, and Sir Hartef gives him a look.
"Let's go," Sir Cawle grunts, and we set off.
…
We've only been riding for about five minutes when Graie scoots his horse over to ride next to me.
"We're almost there," he informs me.
"How do you know? Aren't you just a new squire? How often have you been outside?" I grill him.
"Uh, well, technically…" he hedges, then sighs and rolls his eyes. "Three times. But that's irrelevant, because when you're still part of the nursery, there's pretty much nothing to do except play and study. So… yeah, I know the kingdom pretty well. The maps are—okay, it's weird, but the maps are cool. As for everyone else, I think Samn knows just about every single maneuver since he's basically unbeatable unless you use life-force, being a stupid ambidex and all, and Duss—"
"Wait, ambidex?" I repeat.
"Which hand do you favour?" Graie asks, and I lift my right hand. "Samn can use both perfectly. It's not even fair."
My eyes widen as I absorb this new piece of trivia. That would've come in handy during my routines.
"As I was saying, Duss is pretty much fluent in Old Thundria, but I dunno when that's ever going to be useful unless he needs to interpret a prophecy or something, so…" Graie explains.
"Old Thundria?" I repeat, hating how I feel like a simpleton.
"Yeah, the language of our ancestors," he tells me. "Prophecies and stuff are spoken in it. It's a lot like our language, it's just… old, I guess. Hard to understand the more complicated sentences."
I nod. "There's a lot to know about your kingdoms, huh?"
"Your kingdom now too," he reminds me. "You'll pick it up, I have faith in you."
He grins at me and I can't help returning it. For a moment, I feel conviction that I made the right choice in leaving the gods. I missed Prin so much last night that I cried into my pillow before I fell asleep, but now, in the sunlight, things look better.
"We're here," Sir Cawle announces. "Dismount and tie the reins to one of the fences. Hurry to the middle, and for the Starlaxi's sake, don't walk in front of the archery range."
Archery, my brain echoes. Wait. Are we going to learn how to shoot arrows? Nice! It reminds me of Prin's silly romance novels; there was always some brave, manly man who could hit a bullseye from on top of his horse in a hurricane—and undoubtedly, it's all very unrealistic, but I'm still eager to try.
Graie's already attached his horse to the fence and is charging across the field towards where a couple of figures in the distance are standing on a raised wooden platform. A couple of buildings stand further across the field and I see what looks like pens for sheep that have no sheep or grass in them. What are those for?
I realize with a flush of embarrassment that I can't get off my horse alone. I don't dare ask Sir Cawle for help, and I can't ask Sir Hartef because Sir Cawle would see too. I guess that leaves…
"Psst! Ravne!" I hiss.
He's tying his horse to the fence and his head snaps up to stare at me with big, spooked eyes.
"W—what?"
"Um…" I flush in embarrassment again. "Can.. you help me off my horse?"
"Oh." He blinks like an owl. "Yeah, sure."
Breathing out a sigh of relief that he isn't going to tease me, I grab his offered wrists that are surprisingly wiry for such a slight boy and hop down.
"What's your name?" The black-haired boy asks.
"Um… oh, Graie didn't introduce me," I realize. "Sorry. I'm Fiyr."
His eyes widen a little. "F—f—f—um, fire elementalist, then?"
"Yep."
"Cool." He doesn't offer a description of whatever sort of life-force he has, and I don't have time to press him because Liyon and Tigre are already setting off towards the raised wood platform.
If he knew that my life-force was fire straight off my name, then I'm guessing his name has something to do with his life-force. Ravne… raven, probably? But what does that even mean? He can control birds, maybe? Do they name all their children for their life-force? That's kind of… weird.
"Fiyr! Hurry up!" Sir Hartef called across the field, and I realized I was the only one still idling beside the horses.
I run a hand through my messy ginger hair—why didn't I bother looking for a comb?—and set off at a quick jog towards the archery platform. It was only about five steps up and I make it without breathing hard.
In time to see Samn release an arrow straight into the bullseye.
Really? Really? Are you kidding me? Because it wasn't enough that he was the son of the captain of the guard, according to Graie someone who had already memorized all the maneuvers with a sword, and an 'ambidex', he also had to be brilliant at archery. Come on.
"Samn," Sir Hartef snaps, unusually harsh. "Safety first; no arrows until everybody's up."
"He's here," Samn says dismissively, not even a glimmer of repentance in his icy olive eyes. "Can't we start? I'm going to die of boredom."
Sir Hartef's nostrils flare, but he nods curtly.
"Sir Styrp and Sir Strommer, help Samn and Duss on targets A and B. Sir Cawle, Ravne shoots on C, and I'll help Graie and Fiyr with D and E." He points at each of the targets in order as he assigns the knights and squires. "Start with five arrows each."
Samn sucks his teeth rudely, and is ignored by Sir Hartef.
"Alright, Graie, want to show Fiyr what you know so far?" Liyon invites, gesturing towards where a bow and quiver hang on the fence blocking us from falling off.
Graie grins at me and slung the quiver over his back. He picks up the bow and pulls out an arrow, stringing it like he's practiced it a thousand times. Must be one of the things you can do in the nursery or whatever, I think, frustration at how all the other squires have headstarts zinging through me.
"Okay, so you have to pull it back as far as you can, but also hold it steady," he explains, screwing up his face with concentration as the bow shakes in his hands with the force of his effort. "This is just a practice one, of course, you get proper ones when you're actually strong enough to use them. The targets are closer too."
I examine his grip on the bow, trying to commit it to memory so I can replicate it later.
He lets the arrow fly, and despite how good his aim seemed from where we're standing, the point sinks into one of the outer black rings.
"Not bad," Sir Hartef praises. "You've improved from last time."
"Can I try?" I ask eagerly.
"There's another bow and quiver over there," Graie informs me, his eyes still locked on the target as he strings another arrow with deep concentration.
Just as I'm stringing an arrow of my own, I sneak a peek over to where Ravne, Duss, and Samn are shooting. Ravne's are mostly decorating the furthest ring, but there's one that landed near the middle. Duss is making out fairly well, although one is wedged in the hay bales behind the targets. Samn's arrows have made a tight ring around the centre of the target, but he hasn't made any more bullseyes.
I take a deep breath, trying to only focus on the multicoloured circle that stands about ten feet away. Stringing an arrow on this higher quality bow feels much smoother, but when I try to pull it back, it doesn't budge.
"Um, Sir Hartef, I think it's… uh, broken or something," I say, still yanking at it.
"You have to pull harder," he informs me.
Harder? But I'm pulling with all my might! Finally, it creaks back a fraction. Frustration brings me new strength, and I manage to pull it back hard enough to bring the slightest curve into the wood.
I release the arrow, and it clumsily skids across the field before sliding to a stop a couple of feet in front of the target.
Shame burns my ears and I can feel my face heating up until I'm certain it's the same colour as my hair.
A howl of laughter resounds from somewhere far to my left. After the first peal, Duss's breath is coming in heavy pants as he continues to heave with laughter.
"Can't even make it to the target," Samn observes snidely, only incensing Duss's mirth. "Was he aiming for an ant on the dirt?"
Duss's eyes have welled up with tears as he laughs and my eyes well up too for completely different reasons. A hot ball of anger is tightening in my throat, but I won't cry in front of these jerks.
"It's okay, no one's perfect on their first try."
I bet Samn was, I think furiously, ducking my face into my sleeve to soak away any tears that think they're gonna make it past me.
"Ravne! Are you even trying? Do you really want to be shown up by a god-toy?" Sir Cawle demands, voice sharp with anger.
I dart a glance over to where Ravne's still trying to nock another arrow and having difficulty because his hands are shaking so badly. Sir Cawle is standing over his shoulder, still barking orders.
When Ravne's arrow finally finds its place, Ravne's hands shake so hard he can barely pull back the string. When he finally does and releases the arrow, it shoots off sideways and disappears into a hay bale.
"For the Starlaxi's sake!" Sir Cawle shouts. "How are you so incompetent?"
I feel pity for Ravne, but it turns to surprise when Samn hops over the fence separating the targets and storms up to Sir Cawle, staring him straight in the eye.
"His shoulder hurts! Lay off him, he's doing his best," he snaps.
"If I wanted input from a squire, I would have asked for it." His tone is so different from the boiling anger he used with Ravne. It's dropped into icy, almost soft tones, and it's terrifying. I'm suddenly grateful I didn't speak up.
Samn's eyes glitter with restrained anger but backs down with a deferential dip of his head and he steps back to the fence that he jumped without a second thought just a moment ago. "Yessir."
"You would do well to hold your tongue in the future," Sir Cawle hisses.
He ducks his head further down and awkwardly returns to his target.
Duss has a conflicted look and Samn just folds his arms defensively, staring him down. Ravne has his head down, not meeting anyone's eyes.
He cares? A weird sentiment coming from the sullen, nasty person he's shown himself to be so far, but I guess not everyone's exactly what they look like on first appearance. Silence hangs in the air.
"Keep practicing," Sir Hartef orders. "Sir Cawle, I'll help Ravne and you can supervise Graie and Fiyr."
"Hopefully you two aren't as disastrously talentless," the knight grumbles.
"Dearie me, I'm afraid I'm more 'talentless' than a rotting log," Graie says theatrically, pretending to nock his bow with arms flailing around like they're made of jelly. "Oh no, I'll just have to drop out of trees and tackle the deer to catch them." He glances Ravne's way surreptitiously like he's checking to see if he's smiling.
I grin at Graie, but I can't help worrying about Ravne. Tigre seems really harsh. Oh joy, now he's supervising us…
I can already tell that the rest of today is just going to be a bundle of delight.
We've only gone through a couple more rounds of arrows, Sir Hartef gently guiding Ravne until the jumpy boy can finally land an arrow in one of the middle rings, Sir Cawle sourly folding his arms behind us, and Samn finishing with another bullseye, before Sir Hartef calls for us to stop.
"Alright squires, you're going hunting around this village," Sir Hartef announces. "Your mentors will lead you to your hunting area."
We all clamber down from the raised shooting platform and split off into pairs of squire and knight.
I shoot a nervous glance at where Ravne is standing as far away from Sir Cawle as he can without being properly 'un-paired'.
"Come along, Fiyr, sun's going down in just a couple hours and we don't want to be late for dinner," Liyon says briskly, leading me further away from the village and the training ground and into the forest. "Don't be worried if you don't catch anything. It's your first time out as a squire, and you don't have the same advantages as the others."
That may be true, but I have to bring back something, or I'm going to look like a total idiot.
An hour later, all I have to show for my efforts is a smudged face and a sweaty back. I have to! What I lack in skill, I'm going to make up for in enthusiasm and adrenaline if it kills me!
Another hour passed, and still nothing.
"Fiyr! We should head back soon!" Liyon calls from through the trees.
I don't reply as a rustling alerted me. His cry has spooked something, and it's about to come at me. A fat rabbit jumps out of the bushes, just a white flash, but I jump forwards faster than I thought I could and grab it. I still have a dagger I stole from the gods hidden in my boot and with one hand still locked around the now-writhing rabbit, I bury the blade into it.
It jerks back and forth as it dies, blood spattering my hands, but when it finally goes still, triumph flares inside me.
"I caught a rabbit!" I yell to Sir Hartef.
The knight strides into the clearing, the fading sun catching on his golden beard. "Well, it seems I underestimated you. Well done."
I crow in triumph, pumping my fist in the air. I pull the knife out of the rabbit and wipe the blood on the front of my uniform, making a face at the smear that appears, and slip it back into my boot.
"Let's head back to the castle."
…
It's been a year since that first training session, and I've slotted into the courtlife with surprising ease. My routine doesn't stray, Graie's a close friend and Ravne's fun to talk to on occasion. Samn and Duss haven't changed their jerky ways, but that's no surprise. I've gotten better at archery, though it's still hard to string the bow.
The most interesting change so far's been life-force practice.
I finally found something I can do better than Samn, much to the aforementioned strawberry-blonde's chagrin. Dipping into the Trace is almost like a second nature, and my fire blazes brighter everyday, whereas he can only whip up a bit of eye-stinging sand on occasion.
Today, however, isn't life-force practice.
I'm finally on a solo hunting mission, my quiver strung to my back and bow in hand.
A deer in my sights, I creep closer, wary of my boots cracking any sticks underfoot. Closer, closer…
Suddenly, something spooks the deer and it gallops away deeper into the forest. Damn. An uneasy feeling drops into my stomach. I didn't spook the deer, so what did?
I switch into the fifth dimension, careful and expecting something to jump out at me.
It's another person, but I can't… it's flowing the wrong way, and I can't ascertain what exactly it is… Wynnd!
A rival knight, on our territory?! I creep closer to where the life-force is emanating from, and I jump, preparing to wrestle them to the ground.
"Oi!" A familiar voice shouts as I barrel into him.
"Gr—" I begin to say, when he flips me and draws his sword.
"Fiyr," he says, relieved, dropping his sword.
"AHA! You fell for my clever trick!" I fake triumph and whip out Rusty.
He frowns, then a grin breaks over his face. "I fell for nothing! Have at thee!"
We cross swords a couple times, the clang of metal probably scaring off anything hunt-able in a kilometre's radius, but I'm having too much fun to care. Finally, he knocks Rusty out of my hands and drops to sit cross legged with a heavy sigh.
"Oof, you've certainly improved," he snorted. "Tired of getting your butt handed to you by every member of the court?"
"Oh, hush." I poke him with the toe of my boot.
"Need some help with hunting?" he offers.
"Well, as Thundria's resident prodigy squire," I joke, "I don't need help, but you can keep me company."
He snorts and jumps to his feet. When he offers me a hand, I swat it away and jackknife to my feet like I used to for the gods.
"Ooh, fancy boy," he drawls.
I punch him in the shoulder, and we set off.
We've only been pretending to hunt for about five minutes when suddenly I freeze; a new presence, so strong that I can sense it even without life-force, washes over us. When I slip into the fifth dimension, I can already feel the waves of honey-sweet power, dripping with sickening sweetness and elegance.
"Wh—what's that?" I stutter, snapping back to reality when Graie flicks my shoulder.
He closes his eyes the way he always does when he taps the life-force, regardless of the dozens of times Sir Hartef has explained to him how pointless it is.
His eyes pop open a minute later and he makes a startled, then fearful look. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiit."
"What?"
"Elf. Shit, we gotta move before—shit shit shit!" Graie grabs my tunic in one hand and hauls me back into the bushes as a flurry of autumnal leaves—despite it being summer—whip past. We duck under the bush and I watch, breathless, as the leaves drift to the floor and then disintegrate.
"Whew." He sags in relief. "Thank the Starlaxi it didn't find us. Those things are bad news."
"Leaves." I frown, trying to place where I saw the same thing. "Wait—I think I was following one of the those when I first met you."
"Seriously? Well, you have no idea how lucky you are," Graie snorts. "Those monsters lure people down into their realms and then kill them and eat them. More hypnotizing and sly than dragons, but about as dangerous."
"Pardon, dragons?" I repeat incredulously. I've been here for a year and no one mentioned dragons. Those are real?
"Um, yeah. Dragons. Ever wondered how Heff Tyle lost his arm?" Graie says. "Vicious as the Blacklands. He used to hunt them. The dragonslayer. Not so much anymore."
"Damn," I mumble, picturing the firebreathing beasts on display on tapestries back at the gods' place.
"No kidding," Graie agrees, and we lapse into silence for a moment, before he says, "C'mon, let's go catch something, or Sir Hartef's going to knock me into next week."
I nod and we set off into the forest again, this time actually being careful to listen for prey before we go flying off on rampages through bushes. We're tracking a boar when I realize that we've made it all the way to the Shodawes border. The shimmering soulpath cuts through the trees, and the boar charges straight across.
"Damn it!" Graie exclaims, his belly rumbling in protest.
Undeterred, I take a step onto the soulpath, a glassy thunk when my boot touches down. I've gone on patrols down to this border a few times, but always with a knight supervising, who would never let me find out what...
"Whoa whoa whoa, Fiyr, what are you doing?" Graie demands, reaching for my shoulder, but I take another step.
Suddenly, I hear a sound like tinkling of broken glass and on instinct, I throw myself back. A blazing white light shoots through the soulpath like a comet and fades almost immediately after.
"Are you insane?!" Graie demands, yanking me back. The joking is gone, his eyes are wild with terror. "Do you know how dangerous that is?! What in the Blacklands were you thinking? You could have been killed! Or corrupted! Or fucking killed!" His voice breaks on the last word, and I have to wonder if he might have lost someone close the same way in the past.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, darting a glance up at the Shodawes forests. "I thought…"
I'm cut off by a loud squeal as our previous target is ended. "Looks like a Shodawes knight got to it first," Graie states grimly, peering into the trees. "We gotta head back."
I nod, my heart still pounding from my close encounter with the soulpath.
Thanks for reading chapter 6! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!
~Akila
