Shattered Exile

ELEVEN Trials-1

ELEVEN

Trials

‘I think you have kept them waiting long enough.’ said Kirika over her shoulder.

‘You’re probably right.’

‘And remember what we talked about.’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’

‘Well then – enjoy the fight.’

‘I will...’

The crowd were on their feet the moment she stepped foot into the arena. The sound of cheers emanating from the audience was deafening, causing her to feel a little light-headed. Though she had anticipated welcoming cries of support, nothing had prepared her for the uplifting roar that now assaulted her. She casually approached the centre of the arena, then turned towards the sea of faces shouting the word “Guardian”, repeatedly, in unison. She raised her left hand in a balled fist, acknowledging their support, which in turn prompted renewed applause from her enthusiastic supporters. Despite having spent so many cycles training in the arena, only now did she began to fully appreciate its generous size; seeing the mass of cheering Freylarkai neatly sat adjacent to one another emphasised the enormity of the crescent shaped amphitheatre. Amongst the many faces, she recognised numerous forest dwellers who chanted her name fervently, in addition to others she had seen habitually loitering by the old bridge. Rather unsurprisingly, there was also a large contingent of Blades present, who were no doubt eager to watch the combat prowess of their peers. Sitting calmly in the centre of the front row, adjacent to Marcus, was Freylar’s queen; Mirielle stared eerily towards her with her white pupil-less eyes. By contrast, The Blade Lord wore his ever-present welcoming smile; Marcus’ genial manner helped to calm her nerves, which threatened to get the better of her, despite her seemingly calm exterior. Nathaniel was also in the front row, adjacent to Thandor – both seasoned Blades sat with their arms folded and nodded reassuringly to her as she caught their eye. Seeing so many familiar faces, all of whom had come together to witness Lothnar’s challenge play out, caused the reality of her current situation to hit home. She felt unexpectedly overwhelmed, as she now fully realised the reality of the task ahead of her. She tried to convince herself that her imminent duel with Lothnar was just another fight – no different to her duel with Knight Lord Heldran. In a relatively short space of time, since her arrival in Freylar, she had faced the Narlakai horrors, survived charges from the brutal Ravnarkai, and even expelled the darkness manifesting inside her inherited body. Yet there was something different about her previous challenges. Despite accepting the role of the underdog once more, there was something different this time; previously there had been no real expectation on her part to succeed, but now the Freylarkai had become accustomed to her bucking the trend. Now, plain to see, etched upon the many faces in the audience, was the expectation that she would succeed, despite her opponent’s obvious superior combat prowess. Now, feeling the pressure of her changed circumstances, she breathed slowly and deeply, in an attempt to still the butterflies raging in her stomach. Keenly aware that the pressure of the current situation was getting to her, she smiled and winked playfully to the crowd, maintaining the illusion that she was still very much in control of her nerves. After doing her part to appease the audience, she took her position opposite Lothnar; the nomadic Paladin gave nothing away, courtesy of his stoic disposition. She briefly considered shaking her opponent’s hand, but the opportunity passed as The Blade Lord suddenly rose from his seat, commanding the eager crowd to silence without a single gesture or word.

‘I welcome you all to the opening duel of the Trials. Lothnar, Rayna, you will face one another in this opening contest of skill.’ said Marcus, in his habitual warm but commanding tone. ‘I trust that you are both familiar with the rules of this engagement, however, for the benefit of the audience, I will reaffirm the expectations as follows. Your duel will be a contest of skill – not ability. You are not authorised to use your abilities during the duel. Whilst this will be a full contact engagement, you will refrain from executing moves which court release – contravening this directive is punishable by Freylarian law. I trust that I am clear on this point?’

Both she and Lothnar nodded respectfully towards The Blade Lord in acknowledgement.

‘Good. Furthermore, I grant you both the aid of a renewalist, twice, during your duel, requested immediately by raising an open palm. During this time, the duel is suspended. Lastly, the duel will end once blood has been drawn three times from your opponent, thus declaring the victor of the engagement. With that said, you are both free to select your weapons of choice – I wish you both the best.’

After finishing his speech, Marcus retook his seat and pressed the tips of his fingers together, against his chin, as he regarded them both with interest. Two of Kirika’s aides appeared behind them, ushering forth a large mobile wooden rack, adorned with an array of weapons, including large double-handed axes, bows, daggers, shields and morning stars. The Blades’ mainstay weapon of choice was also present – the falchion. They both turned and made their way towards the cache of weapons, eager to make their selection. She yearned for Shadow Caster and The Ardent Blade, though sadly neither was present. Likewise, the custom dirks that she had previously seen Lothnar deftly toying with were absent. Freylarian law dictated that only stock weapons be permitted for use when training or duelling in the arena. Lothnar wasted little time in selecting a number of throwing knives, which he slid into a sheath strapped to the underside of his left arm. In addition, he chose two dirks and attached them to his belt. Satisfied with his selection, the Paladin took his position towards the east gate, without so much as even glancing in her direction. Turning her attention towards the weapons, she selected a pair of falchions, before making her way to her designated position towards the west gate. Although heavier than her Dawnstone twins, nonetheless, she was well adjusted to the weight of the blades in hand. Having selected their weapons and taken their designated places, they both stared intently at one another. Though tempted to turn her gaze towards The Blade Lord for further instructions, Nathaniel’s sermons burned in her mind, ensuring that she did not lose sight of her opponent. She studied the distance between them; it was clear that Lothnar had the tactical advantage. She needed to close the gap, and that meant entering his area of threat, whilst the Paladin remained beyond her reach. With no throwing weapons of her own, and no means by which to defend herself on approach, she would be utterly reliant on her speed and agility. No doubt Lothnar had also considered the scenario playing out in her mind, thus she needed a means to distract her opponent. However, before she could consider her options further, a loud deep wind instrument sounded from the direction of the crowd, followed by a short command from The Blade Lord which would forever remain etched in her mind.

‘Engage!’

Their journey south via the subterranean caverns was unbearably slow, yet they served their purpose, allowing her to continue to drive the Narlakai herd towards Freylar, specifically the vale, despite the harmful rays of the weak autumnal sun. During their march south, her abhorrent mount had been instrumental in shepherding the Narlakai, which in turn had eased the mental strain upon her. However, shortly prior to entering the caverns, the three-headed construct had begun to show signs of fatigue; the Meldbeast had bowed its three heads low whilst breathing hard, struggling to draw in enough air to sustain it. Concerned about the creature’s stamina, and its readiness for the inevitable battle to come, she had afforded the creature a brief interlude during which to hunt, prior to commanding it underground, along with the writhing gaseous black mass stretched out before them. During its brief respite, her kindred mount had little trouble tracking the scent of one of the borderlands’ many dire wolves, known to roam the sparse landscape. After temporarily abandoning the herd in favour of a well-deserved meal, she had revelled in the beast’s excitement as it tracked its prey to a thick isolated copse, east of Black Thorn. The chimera had demonstrated little trouble locating its prey, which it promptly cornered and savagely tore apart to sate the hunger in its belly. Though partly composed from dire wolves itself, the Meldbeast had shown no qualms devouring one of its kin. She recalled the ugly sounds of the Meldbeast’s feasting from atop her mount, her legs still fixed in place, courtesy of its flesh straps, whilst the creature noisily devoured its well-earned meal; the grim sounds of sinews tearing and bones crunching had been notably amplified against the borderlands’ quiet ambiance. She remembered watching the numerous sets of yellow eyes lurking in the copse that had studied them intently, whilst the Meldbeast devoured their unfortunate kin. A small part of her had felt remorse for the lupine onlookers silently mourning the loss of their companion, however, this fleeting emotion paled in comparison to the feeling of supremacy facilitated by the power of her mind and the physical strength of her obedient mount. After finishing its meal, she decided to follow suit, having not eaten in cycles. After taking no pleasure in gulping down some of the spoiled wares from Krashnar’s hide, she had commanded the Meldbeast back to tend to its flock. The abandoned writhing mass of Narlakai had barely moved, making the task of funnelling them underground relatively straightforward. Initially their subterranean progress had been steady, but as the winding passages gradually narrowed, their dogged march became increasingly constricted. Their overall pace through the caverns was far slower than she had liked, having hoped that her previous experience managing the herd in such confines would have served her well. However, the stark reality was that the caverns had too many choke points, which – coupled with the Narlakai’s inherently slow movement – meant their throughput was inevitably limited. However, the experience was not entirely without reward; their restricted path forced her mount to identify other means of running the length of the advancing column, thus keeping it in check without the constant need for her ability. With its path regularly blocked, the Meldbeast experimented – tentatively at first – by running up and down the side of the caverns over short distances. The beast soon discovered, however, that its cruel father had furnished it with the tools necessary to climb the interior rock face; the Meldbeast’s iron-like claws pummelled the cavern walls, splintering them with ease, thereby allowing the chimera to find grip at seemingly impossible angles. Without the aid of Krashnar’s flesh straps, the creature’s gravity-defying feats would have seen her quickly thrown from her mount. Instead, her only concern was the agonising pain racking her body with each new feat from Krashnar’s enthusiastic monstrous pet. She thought about reigning in the Meldbeast’s daredevil acrobatics, purely to ease the agony shooting through her metal-infused flesh, but the pain she now experienced was a part of her, and something that she needed to become accustomed to – according to Darlia. As the increasing torment assaulted her unnatural body, she began to think of Darlia, specifically the manner in which she had abandoned her lover. She wished dearly that the conflicted scrier had come around to seeing things as she now did, but – for the time being at least – the motivation for their respective actions was no longer aligned. Darlia’s soul was broken, and harboured a pointless need to repent, where as her own – by contrast – had hardened, galvanized with vengeance and hate. All of the injustices that both she and Darlia had suffered could be traced back to Mirielle’s arrogant reign. Her desire to see that reign reduced to ash, and deliver retribution for Freylar’s ongoing prejudice, fuelled her ongoing vendetta. More pain speared through her body, disrupting her private thoughts; her mount executed yet another audacious move, as it grew increasingly confident in its abilities. The supremely agile creature flew over the top of the writhing gaseous black stream funnelling through the narrow space, as it leapt towards the opposite wall of the cavern. Rock splintered again as her maniacal mount crashed into the hard surface of the opposing wall, punishing it dearly. Her stomach lurched due to the thunderous impact, causing her to retch yet again, although she did so with a curious smile, knowing that the pain she felt would be visited a hundredfold upon her haughty kin. The baleful thought prompted the release of cruel laughter from her, as she savoured the notion. Giving herself over entirely to the comforting embrace of revenge, she used the power of her mind to incentivise the Meldbeast once again, giving it another of her mental kicks. The abhorrent creature moaned in discomfort, after which it redoubled its efforts, now more determined than ever to appease her – its mistress.