Authors Note: Hope you guys enjoy, the next chapter should drop in about a week.
The Hunter's Dance
The swords danced in their hands, grins plastered on their faces. They were joyful thinking nothing could harm them. The sun stood high promising a day full of bright memories. The coming of spring brought the eyes much pleasure. Innocent laughter pleased the ears. Clattering of steel began to overpower the sounds of laughter. The flowers fed off a stream of blood. The sun boiled her back as she looked at the victim. He whispered with his dying breath, "You cannot escape me Quinn,". A hand grabbed at her hair sending it thudding into the ground.
Her eyes burst open from the impact her head had hitting the cart. She let out a grunt as light poured into her eyes. "Little birdie finally decides to wake does she?" the man driving the cart said, wanting to make her life a living hell after the eagle nipped at him. His comment brought laughter to the soon to be volunteers, all of which were male. She had become acquainted with them over the weeks since she left home. They were just names and empty faces, soon to be swallowed by the world they were entering. Father was right, I don't stand a chance.
The eagle stuck his head out of her knapsack at the sound of laughter. She had decided to start calling him Valor, as it seemed to fit the courage he had for such a small thing. He looked only six months old, with a broken wing, he would rely on her for survival. To survive these brutes I'll likely need you as well. "What is it little birdie? Forget how to speak, like your eagle forgot how to fly?" his yellow teeth parted as he laughed at his own joke.
"No, I was just contemplating if I should let him get a bite at you, the gods know I wouldn't hold him back this time," the last was just a whisper only for her own ears. Her teeth grated as her eyes locked with the man. His stomach bouncing with every slight movement of the cart.
"You best watch your tongue girl they won't take any lip where you're heading, but they may end up using it," spit flung from the mans mouth as his laughs broke through the countryside. He was soon joined in with laughter from the other volunteers. If this is what'll defend our borders, then may the gods make our deaths ever so merciful. She sat back allowing the laughs to wash over her, waiting for them to reach their destination.
It took a few hours of open roads, full of laughter until they saw the outline of the camp. "Look out there on the horizon, that's where your new life will begin. The shield of Demacia always needs new troops to fill in with each battering it takes. That shield will never fall while you're living, that shield will never fall until we decapitate the head of Noxus with it," he spat at the ground when the word Noxus left his mouth. Everyone in the cart did the same, they understood their purpose, and they had the hatred to see it through.
I'll be sure to look every damn one in the eye so they can see what they've put me through, Noxus will bleed. The cart reached the outskirts of the camp which consisted mostly of small farms, and basic storage facilities. Farther into the camp training fields, and barracks became visible. They stopped in front of one of the barracks, which consisted mostly of oak.
"This is your stop, had a joy lugging most of you over the countryside. Make sure you give ol' William a shout if you see him again," with the cart driver finishing the twenty-seven volunteers hopped off the back of the cart. They all came face to face with a man standing erect, seeming to scan each and every one of them as they piled off of the cart. His eyes lingered on a scrawny boy the longest, a fire filled the man's eyes a challenge. Quinn grabbed her knapsack as she hopped off of the wagon being glad to not have to deal with William, for a long time to come. Valor began to rustle in the sack, as Quinn began to ignore him her attention was solely focused on the man.
A silver rapier sat on the man's left hip. Demacian blue coated his jacket. His long chestnut hair swept behind his ears, and a long curly mustache warmed his upper lip. He seemed to stand relaxed, but also at attention. He stared at Quinn for a moment, her knapsack a bit longer, before he moved his eyes onto the other recruits. This man was surprisingly intimidating for his height of five feet three inches. He cleared his throat, "William decided to finally get you here did he? No matter you made it here in one piece that's all I can really ask from the gods, or what they'll grant me at least," he cleared his throat before he continued. "I am Sergeant McHenricks, your company commissioned training officer," he looked quickly around at the faces before him, all relaxed with no sign of discipline.
"You will be forced to earn the Demacian blue through hard work and extensive training. You maggots will take longer than most. If you aren't willing to accept that you're a maggot or-" Quinn and a few others chuckled, "Did I say something amusing?" They all shook their heads no. "Then why's miss bird bitch laughing," he said staring at Valor poking his head out of the sack. Quinn glared at the man not willing to take his harassment. "We can have this staring contest all day or you can get your shit together, and respect your commanding officer." Starting to feel awkward Quinn broke eye contact and instead began to look at Valor.
McHenricks continued his speech, "If you aren't willing to accept that you're a maggot or likely to quit before you even wear the Demacian blue, then you might as well quit now," he took a moment to see if anyone wanted out. With no one stepping forward he continued, "You will earn no titles in the volunteers, you will be in no legends, and you'll likely die your first year in the field. Your duty will be to your friends, family, and Demacia itself." McHenricks looked skyward to notice the sun stood only halfway to its apex. He smirked, "Looks like we have time today to test your skills with the sword."
McHenricks lead them to an open field in the center of the camp He stopped by a weapons rack filled with practice swords, and other weapons. "Who would like to impress me first?" he asked motioning towards the weapons rack. The scrawny boy, likely her own age, named Albert was the first to step forward. He grabbed a Quarterstaff, which upright stood about three feet higher than him, it was a rather amusing sight to Quinn, but she kept her composure. A man named Bennett stepped forward, Quinn allowed her thoughts to wander while looking at him, but quickly caught herself. His strength seemed to want to escape his very being, he was extremely well toned, slightly tanned. He's perfect, Albert doesn't stand a chance. McHenricks scowled at Bennett as he grabbed a practice greatsword.
The two combatants stood opposite from each other only fifteen feet separating them. They both raised a fist to their heart acknowledging the duel, "Begin," McHenricks spat as he waited for the clear results. Bennett struck first as he brought the greatsword crushing down on Albert's Quarterstaff. pain filled Albert's eyes where a fire of battle stood just moments ago. Crushing swing after crushing swing hit the Quarterstaff causing more displeasure in Albert, Quinn didn't even notice. She was too fascinated by the power Bennett was wielding, it was as if the gods themselves had taken control of his body. One last swing sent the Quarterstaff splintering. Albert sank to his knees from the pain and crush of absolute defeat.
McHenricks motioned them both back away from the duel, glaring at Bennett as he walked back into line Quinn set her knapsack down, and stepped forward. Jared, the only person she had befriended on the two-week journey to the camp, stepped forward as well. They both grabbed shortswords, and waited for the orders to begin. They were given, and Jared immediately lunged at her. She easily side-stepped it and cracked him with the sword on his back. Much to her surprise he immediately recovered and was able to strike her sword arm before she could even think of reacting. He followed that with a strike which connected with her chin. She stumbled backwards from the impact. He's faster than me, and packs a bigger punch, what the hell am I supposed to do? Jared made another lunging attack, which she attempted to dodge. A smirk crossed his face as she was predictable, the sword hilt crashed into her temple as he anticipated the dodge. Her vision blurred, but she quickly recovered. That's going to leave one hell of a bruise.
Jared didn't relent as he was on he yet again, sending a horizontal slash for her temple. Let the sword control you, and you'll fall even the toughest of foes. Let your mind clear, and let the sword guide. The memory of her father's lesson only lasted half a second, but her sword was up in time to deflect, and counter attack into his ribs. Your opponent will slowly overwhelm you if they are allowed to stay on the offensive. Jared was caught off guard with the sudden offensive stance Quinn took. She quickly began landing strikes until he landed on the ground a sword aimed at his throat, and his sword nowhere to be found.
Quinn put out her hand to pull him up. "You fought well," she said.
"I only hope to match your talent one day," he replied following the Demacian honor code for duels. They each raised their fist to their heart, and made their way back into the line. McHenricks motioned Quinn to stop, and Bennett to step forward. They waited for the order to begin. He must really hate me to see me slaughtered by someone of much greater skill and strength.
McHenricks watched Quinn closely as he said, "Begin," he waited to see how she would perform. Bennett sent a swing aimed at her left shoulder. She pivoted at the last moment and sent the hilt of her sword slamming into this nose. It began gushing blood, but it didn't seem to slow him. He followed up his previous attack by sweeping her feet, causing Quinn to slam face first into the ground. We're gonna fight dirty are we? She picked up dirt off the ground and tossed it into his eyes. Blood and dirt now covering his eyes allowed Quinn to quickly sweep his feet and disarm him while he lay on the ground dazed. Even after this he wasn't finished as he grabbed her sword arm and flung her onto the ground along with him. She fell exhausted, unable to get up or resist the oncoming punches that began to batter her face. McHenricks exclaimed, "You buffoon, you've won have you no honor!" Quinn quickly fell unconscious.