Chapter 5

Chapter 5 of the Legends of Solaris: Bloodsworn Chronicles

Chapter 5: The early light of day settles gently onto Evermill. With the rolling mist the entire scenery looks as if we were standing on a floating island below a sea of clouds. It's only six in the morning yet already the banging of metal can be heard from a metalworks foundry, people getting ready for the daily routine, and the shouts of commanders giving orders to his recruits. “Welcome to the village of Evermill Alexis, the last human settlement in the Fountain Forest. Today we start your series of tests and training. Even though you can be proven innocent and you’re not a spy, we need to see if you’re anything worth the keep.” Marry exclaims.

“Wait test? What kind of test and what for?” Alexis questions.

“Look, everyone here has a purpose. Even the children. The work effort from everyone is what helps to fight off The Blood Sworn and keep the allied forces armed. If you’re not up to the task we’ll most likely kill you during training. You'll be lucky enough to get the chance to survive out in the wilderness. Am I clear?”

“ Yes ma'am,” Alexis says. The two meet up with Marry’s captain for the debrief of how the training will play out. First is basic knowledge of survival and using your environment. Which just turns out that Alexis aces. After sparring with the veterans of the regiment the captain announces, “ You may be the most advanced in warfare Alexis. Though now you'll be going against Lady Reignfield in a duel. She has defeated me multiple times and she's the heir to the queen’s throne of the elves. She's been trained by the most elite the country can find. Good luck.”

“Heir to the throne of elves. No wonder why her last name’s Reignfield.” I say in my head.

Twenty paces back from one another. Thirty seconds to psych myself up for what's about to happen. Armed with only a bronze short-sword and a wooden shield, I'm faced to fight someone with better gear. The eyes of intent can burn through you. Gazing at them makes you feel like you’re sailing on the edge of a knife. 3,2,1. We are off.

Author's Note

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