Upon a Star: Karyana's Journey: Chapter 7

Time flies on as Kaina becomes a young warrior-to-be, and must take a grueling test to succeed.

Chapter 7

Alban's quick retort to Kaina's clumsy swing of her wooden sword knocked the practice weapon out of her hands.

"You're still starting off on your wrong foot." the older trainee, now of age to be sworn to war, replied as he picked up the blunt, wooden sword and handed it back to the girl, who looked away from the weapon back to her mentor, Nacir Lockcrest.

Nacir shook his head before passing his large hand over his rugged face and unevenly-cut sideburns. The man used to be an inhabitant of the Glittering Fields, which showed by the heavy tunic he wore over his armor, as well as the wrapped cloth around his head. The fact that he was also the only mentor who favored wielding a curved sword showed the difference of culture that the nomads of the sands brought to this Academia, tutored in majority by people of the milder territories.

"Kaina, come here for a moment." he spoke, motioning her forward. The girl picked up the practice sword and walked meekly over to the tall man, who almost towered her even while crouched down.

It had been almost three years since she last spoke to Laurinya in their dreams. She knew her sister was still alive �" she could feel it �", but she couldn't understand why she didn't show up in the nightly times they used to have together. Still, her dreams of late had brought a new unfamiliar face, as well as that of the boy she had seen before.

The man that appeared in her dreams looked much older than Nacir was, as was shown by his whitening hair and beard, but he was almost as energetic as her sister was. In fact, that stranger was acting on Nacir's stand while she rested. It was actually a good thing that she could count on the boy, who looked as old as she did, for help.

As Kaina walked over to Nacir, the tall mentor let out a sigh. "I don't understand what is wrong with you." the man spoke in a thick accent, making his phonetics amusing for most students to hear… had it not been for the man's normally fiery temper. With her, though, he had learned over her first year at the academy that her place was definitely not here, yet not only were her parents �" farmers who moved to Ashbrook for what they called 'reasons of security and business' �" insisting on her taking this training, but so did she.

"I'm… I'm sorry." she replied weakly, making a polite bow.

The man rose to stand, towering the girl by almost two feet. His blade, had it been at the same level as the ground, would have been almost tall enough that its tip would touch her grown chest.

Although Kaina was on the edge of fifteen years of age, her body had finally started to blossom into that of a fair woman… yet her weak confidence still made her exude an almost childish aura.

"Listen carefully, girl." Nacir said, placing an immense hand against the girl's shoulder. "In a few days, the Grand Selection will begin, and I was hoping you and Alban would participate. But if you can't focus right now, it might take you another year before you can graduate from this place!"

Kaina wanted to panic, but she knew it would only make the other students laugh at her. Ever since her arrival at the Academy, she had been known as incredibly studious and dedicated, but her clumsiness and lack of confidence made her comrades mock her day in, day out. The worst time was when she hid in her room after one of the hard-knocks students, a boy named Arius, showed off his magical skills by having Kaina's leather armor catch on fire. Even though the boy had apologized �" forcefully, due to Narcir catching him in the act -, Kaina had been so scared of leaving her room that the former nomad had to send Alban to her room just so she would go out to the dining hall and eat.

Narcir continued his analysis, one hand resting against the pommel of his large scimitar. "Of all the students here, Alban has the most physical experience, and you have the sharpest mind. In all my years teaching here, I never met a girl who could understand all the theories of the blade and arts of combat so well… yet you keep holding back. Why are you so afraid?"

Kaina's heart sunk. For a moment, she felt like a mouse cornered by a pack of wildcats. "I… I don't want to hurt anyone…" she replied in a hesitant tone.

"Sooner or later, it may come down to you hurting someone… or someone taking your head, or even your loved ones." Narcir replied. "Think about it."

Laurinya… That was the first thing that came to mind. "My sister…" she said, as if a realization.

"See? You just need to find that reason for you to fight." the overly tall man replied. "Now, let me explain to you what the Grand Selection is… Alban! Come over here for a moment!"

----

Raemu looked on as Onyx plunged a blade in a large bucket of water. "How are my weapons coming along?"

The dwarf wiped his forehead before pulling the object back over the flames. "I'm working on the second one as we speak. The first one has been ready for at least three days. I was actually wondering when you'd come and pick it up." he answered, hammering away at the elongated metal, shaped almost like a sliver of the moon, or the tail of a shooting star.

"Good, good." the aged knight spoke. "I brought a little trinket that might help you. It should compensate for the price of both weapons."

The dwarf's hammer stopped clanging against the metal for a moment. "I thought you were going to pay for the third weapon as well. For an old warrior, you're rather shrewd."

Making a half-smile, the armored man let out a sigh, as if he found the situation amusing. "I assure you, I will not be asking for that third weapon for another five years."

Onyx turned to look at the man. 'Has that old man lost his mind?' he thought. 'Who in Progeny's name would ask for a weapon to be done, only to need it only in five years?'

Taking a swig from his tin mug, the dwarf wiped his mouth before speaking. "But why five years? Why not ask me to do it in five years, instead?"

"Because it will be a very special weapon… for a very important person." the old knight replied.

Onyx scratched his beard, thinking up a myriad a possibilities. A very important person? Maybe some well-known hero like Guiro Rockarm, the dwarf who single-highhandedly defeated the Maid of Duskdeep �" a formidable witch said to have the body of an enchanting woman from the waist up, and that of a horrible scarab forming the rest of her body? Or maybe a prince or a king who would come of age?

"Then it will have to be a kingly gift!" Onyx said, lifting his mug as if to cheer.

"Indeed." Raemu responded, making a broad smile. "For now, take this as payment… and use it everywhere you go, for it will always bring the fires of the Everforge to you."

Onyx's eyes grew as wide as saucers when he heard the name of the Planar's greatest gift to the dwarven race. It was said that Reveen, in all his generosity to the ephemeral people, created and granted to the people of the mountain an eternal forge, as a gift from the creators of all to the proud people below. Although the Everforge was said to have been lost in time, the arts of smiting never did. Although the dwarves were reluctant at first to share their treasure, Raemu descended to the first dwarven kingdom of the Motherforge and spoke to the ruler, Hyrian Firstsmith, that the trade of secrets and teachings of the forge with the other races would grant him and his descendants a secret that only the greatest men and women of his rulership would master. Thus, the first Runeforger was born.

Legends spoke that the Runeforgers were in direct contact with the power of the Motherforge, and that the metal used by the Planars �" along with the most obscure secrets of the hammer and anvil �" flowed in their blood… and Onyx was one of them.

Raemu took a small pouch from his satchel and pulled out an object that looked like a child's toy �" a piece of metal shaped like a circular forge. Onyx looked at the object and frowned. "What is this, a joke?" he spat with an irritated tone.

"Not at all. Just look for a clear field, then place the object on the ground and strike it with your forge hammer." Raemu explained. "You will thank me later."

As Raemu turned around to leave, Onyx sighed and turned back to his forge. "I never did get your name." the dwarf commented.

"You never asked." came the man's immediate answer before the busy dwarf heard the door creak open and close.

"Hey, you forgot your-" Onyx was about to say as he turned back to the door. Aside from the odd-looking item that now rested on his counter, there was only one thing he noticed was odd: the immense sword that his father kept in his shop for years now was not in its rack.

Looking around his shop and his inventory, he also noticed that the first sword the old man had asked for �" a short sword with a sun-shaped gem that his father had carved out of a star ruby �" was missing.

Onyx scratched his head, confused by what had happened… or what he thought had happened.

"Bloody old coot! You still owe me for those swords!" he bellowed, letting out a frustrated shout that made almost everyone in Warmcreek turn their heads.

---

The day of the Grand Selection had come, and every student who had past at least five years at the Academia had to undertake before obtaining their full-fledged status of graduate. It was also one of the few times where up-and-coming adventurers, soldiers and champions would be selected by nobles, lords, and orders that required fresh troops that were skilled with the blade.

Today, the list of nobles was particularly interesting; many nobles from beyond the shores of Weepfall to the south-west, as well as tribal leaders of everywhere on Medierth, lords of Frostreach to the north, Ebonroad to the south, Zurethil to the east and Drakemaw to the west…

In the lines of possible graduates, everyone tried to remain as steadfast as possible, some dressed in the finest armors that the soon-to-be soldiers could craft, others wearing hand-me-downs and family heirlooms, or even simply the normal training outfits. The ranks were diverse in race, gender and size: from the stout dwarves to the lithe elves, from the immense half-giants to the smaller halflings, the Academia's pledge was to teach every abled man and woman how to defend what they stood for with their lives.

Among the crowd of lords and nobles stood a young man, not yet of age to grow a beard, but dressed in a half-mask that kept his eyes hidden by valleys of etched gold, jewels and copper. His black hair was kept reasonably short, and wore the gold and ebony mantle of a kingdom no one remembered, aside from those who were from it.

An older man, much older than the young noble, sat next to him. The elderly adviser was dressed in a crimson robe, embroidered with silver filigree and emblazoned with the standards of the Order of the Manaweave. The man rested his staff against his knees, tilting it to his left to be able to see beyond the crowd before him.

"Are you sure that she is among these ranks, my Lord?" the elderly man asked, stretching his withered neck to try and get a closer look.

"You don't have to use such formalities here, Reyvak." the younger man answered. "We are among nobles, and most would rather tend to their own than to be here."

The remark made some nobles force a mock laughter, but most simply looked away or rolled their eyes.

Demyan took a moment to look at the crowd of trainees below. "I wonder if it will all go as planned." he wondered cryptically.

"Young Master?" the newly-appointed Demiarch spoke. Demyan shook his head and kept quiet.

The idea had been as simple as pie, but took a bit of divine planning. Demyan had actually made his way into the armory earlier, under the disguise of a page boy, to deliver a weapon that had been lost in the inventory. It was harder to get the trust of the soldiers who stood steadfast at the door, but the fact that a magical weapon to be delivered for the Grand Selection would be lost or stolen would have been an insult to the security of the Academia, and such matters had happened in the past. Some students had been forced out of the institution for crimes of theft or misuse of magical equipment, and some had even entered in the Academia as fresh troops, only to be a ploy to capture some rare artifact.

Demyan was actually lucky that the Academia had good relations with the new Demiarch, or else he would have not been able to attend to the event. Nor would he have been able to see Kaina, who was now standing to attention, her face showing signs of stress and embarrassment.

The girl was hoping she would not be picked, or at least not early on, as her hardened leather cuirrass would be of little protection against most weapons that were on display: swords, maces, knives, staves, axes… even such exotic weapons as the blades used by the Fae elite of the Moongreen Forest �" weapons simply called 'fae blades'.

Demyan's last dream, where Raemu handed him a sword no longer than his forearm, led to him sneaking the weapon into the Academia, and there is sat, among a number of weapons far deadlier-looking than the item looked. A simple glamor spell would make sure that no one would select that particular blade, as it would look, in the eyes of the beholder, as a simple short sword of dwarven craft.

While the students stood in attention, the Academia's leader, Caleb Oathsword, stood up from his seat and raised his arms, making the crowd of watchers fall quiet.

"Lords and M'ladies, nobles and folk of all Demierth, I welcome you to this year's Grand Selection!" he shouted as if a town crier. "On this day, the strongest and brightest students this Academia has to offer will show you their wit and skill for your pleasure and your benefit!"

Demyan looked back at Reyvak. "Is this supposed to be a ceremony or a circus?" he whispered, being hushed by some weary-eyed aristocrat.

"As you know, the Lords choose their champions, and in this state of mind, the weapon shall choose its owner. On this day, students of the Academia, you are no longer students, but fresh troops ready to defend your lands and those of your Lords with your lives!"

All of the students gave a strong applause, though Kaina's cheer was less to encourage the others and more to hide her unease.

"As I read your names, you will each go to the Circle of Battle, choose your weapon, and demonstrate your skills to all of us one last time. No matter the outcome, you will all find your place in this world, beyond the walls of the Academia."

Kaina looked at the different ranks of students. All had been sorted by race, as to provide optimal performance in their own birth-lands. She was unsure as to who she would face, or what kind of blue-blooded noble would want of a mousy girl like her.

The battles began with the shorter lists, which proved both a boon and a bane to Kaina, as she noticed battles that would make her blood curl, had the rules not been restricted to 'first blood'. It was both a way to prove that the Academia condemned bloodshed in its own walls, and to prove that there was honor and commitment in its ranks.

As Kaina looked on, at the display of weapons, she grew hesitant. In her dreams and memories, she knew how to wield most of them with some precision, but never knew which weapon was best-suited for her.

"The next challenge: Lyzar Shardoak… faces Kaina Desteen!"

Kaina almost jumped out of her fur-rimmed leather boots as she heard her name and that of her opponent. Lyzar was known as a hard-headed student with an arm as equally resilient. The soldier actually stood a full foot taller than the girl, and his spiky red hair showed as much fire as that in his ash-grey eyes. She had heard of, and saw, the large student, who some believed had orcish blood in his ancestry, break a practice dummy with a bare fist during unarmed combat class.

Kaina stepped forward and took a moment to try and ease her panic, but when she was the man grab a large cleaver-like blade from the cache of displayed weapons, she feared for her own safety. Had Nacir not told her to look the part, she would have been paralyzed by fear.

"Kaina, please step forward and select your weapon." one of the mentors spoke, snapping the girl out of her intimidated state.

Lyzar gave a toothy grin �" which showed that he was missing at least one -, and laughed at Kaina. The girl looked down at her hand… and noticed that, rather than a melee weapon, she had picked up a crossbow.

"Um… can I choose a different weapon?" she asked meekly.

Lyzar stomped forward. "Let the mouse choose her sticks and stones." he said as he towered his mentor by half a head. "I know this weapon's mine!"

The man couldn't argue, as the blade seemed to gleam unnaturally, the bloodstone in its hilt flaring, as if alive with an amber-like glow.

The monk looked back at Kaina, then motioned to Caleb a strange hand-sign that the girl didn't know of.

"It seems we have quite the battle for you!" he shouted. "It seems the Kaina Desteen has chosen the Twelve Blades challenge!"

Demyan looked back at Reyvak. "What is this challenge?"

The old man let out a sigh before explaining. "It's a very special battle. Normally, it is only chosen by those who master the said number of weapons. What that challenge is, well… the one who selects this battle chooses twelve weapons from the display for himself and his opponent to use in battle. Should the weapon be discarded or broken, the wielder must grab another weapon and continue the battle, but the opponent is still allowed to attack. If one participant is disarmed while there are no weapons left on display, then that person loses."

Demyan readjusted his mask over his eyes. "Why would she do that?" he wondered, before he noticed the gleam of Mana coming from her opponent's flamberge. "He found his weapon before her!"

Kaina looked back at the display and quickly selected a shield and lance to begin with, though her grip on the pole-arm was flimsy and shaking.

"Begin!" Caleb shouted, dropping both arms.

Lyzar quickly took the initiative and lunged towards the girl, driving his immense blade down with all his strength. The panicked girl had no choice but to steady her shield arm and brace for the blow, but as her arm rose, the blade cleaved through the side of the wooden shield like a hot knife through fresh butter. Turning away from the direction of the slice, Kaina used her motion �" and what survival instincts kicked in �" to trap the blade inside the cut shield and swing her lance in a wide arc, hoping to draw at least a cut against the imposing soldier's cheek.

However, the tall cadet ducked his head, making the tip of the lance slice through his spiky hair, leaving a strange indent as if icicles had been broken off by a machete. Noticing how some students found the bulky student's new haircut droll, a moment of laughter came from the other cadets, which only infuriated the soon-to-be soldier. Leaving the blade stuck in the middle of the shield, he caught the girl's pole-arm with both hands and, with a bellowing cry to show his display of strength, broke it in twine.

Kaina left her splintered lance and cloven shield behind as Lyzar ran over to her. Trying to grab onto one of the maces, she felt a large hand against her shoulder before she was pulled back hard, as if thrown around like a rag-doll, by the immense man. As she painfully got up, she noticed her opponent grab not one, but two weapons from the rack; a large battle axe and a crude war-hammer.

Demyan narrowed his eyes and tilted his head towards Reyvak. "This oaf is playing with her. I don't know what kind of barbarian he is, but I wouldn't want of him."

One of the noblemen, dressed in an elegant lettuce-green robe and wearing a circlet to keep his long brown hair, which fell to his shoulders, caught the young lord's words. "Then how about a wager, then? I bet a sack of gold that that girl will not survive this combat!"

Reyvak looked nervously at the battle, even as Kaina dodged a downward strike that smashed the ground underneath the girl's feet with the war-hammer. "My lords, please reconsider."

"I accept." The young noble spoke. "And I add to this wager. Whoever wins this battle will become the champion of whoever wins this bet."

The Demiarch let out a heavy sigh. Had it not been for the boy's reckless plan, he would have not known how brash the boy could be.

The noble raise his right hand, yet kept his left behind his back. "Then let's shake to it." he said, his tone seemingly overconfident.

Demyan looked back at the noble's hand, then grabbed it with a warrior's handshake, the heavy sleeve of his overcoat covering his young arm. "There. Now, let's watch and see." he retorted.

On the battlefield, however, Kaina barely had time to pick up a weapon before Lyzar's axe clove right through the display table. Due to the current state of rage the soldier was in, and the way he wielded two menacing weapons, the girl was terrified. Her whole body threatened to go numb with fear as she saw most of the wooden weapons, as well as those with lighter weight, smashed or fall off the table.

The noble looked on with great interest. "It seems you were too quick to take me on this wager, boy." he replied.

Demyan looked nervously at the display. Of the twelve weapons on display, only three were left; a two-handed sword, much too heavy for Kaina to wield; a ball and chain, which would prove impractical in the current situation; and the ruby-pommeled short sword.

"I know you can do this…" he murmured, looking at Kaina who was still dodging attacks by the slimmest of margins. The last swing had knocked her onto the splintered table �" a hard backhand swing of the war-hammer that she rolled with the strike. Though rolled was not the correct word, as she jumped in the path of the weapon's swing and used that momentum to get knocked back, falling on her back.

Lyzar threw his war-hammer to the ground and kicked it away, making Demyan wince. "Does he really think she's finished?" he asked Reyvak, but it was the pompous noble who replied.

"Of course, she's finished! There's nothing left on that table she could use except for a flimsy-looking weapon he could use as a toothpick!"

As Lyzar walked over to Kaina, all the girl could hear was the loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears and the sound of her hurried breath. To her, this wasn't a battle for first blood anymore… her very survival rested upon this.

Her right hand felt something sting against it. As she turned her head to look at it, she noticed the glamor spell fade, revealing the true nature of the short sword. To her panicked eyes, it looked like a lifeline. Even as her heartbeat and breathing slowed, she felt the very time around her slow to a crawl before her hand reached for the weapon.

In a moment of shock, she felt something radiate from the blood-red ruby of the weapon through its grip and into her arm, traveling through her body like water filling a tub.

Fire.

Lyzar swung his axe downward, hoping to cut enough of the girl's armor to reveal her bosom, but the blade didn't hit anything except the splintered wood of the table.

Blinking for a moment, he looked around the weapon, but found no trace of the girl… until he felt something press between his legs. High up between his legs.

Kaina felt like her entire body was searing with energy. Even though the weapon looked almost impossibly small compared to her opponent, the very energy she felt had given her enough confidence to dodge the oaf's blow and slam her heel into the man's genital area, making him �" and most of the crowd �" gasp and look away.

The aristocrat got up from his seat for a moment, to notice Kaina rolling to Lyzar's right. "Come on, you imbecile! Enough lollygagging!" he shouted.

It was Demyan's turn to shush him, which he did with an amused smile. "Don't count your gold yet." he retorted.

Kaina didn't quite understand how she was able to deal enough damage to the oaf to make his hands wrap so hard against the axe's grip that it snapped like a twig, but she did. And it felt good.

"I… I can fight…" she murmured, her tone still showing signs of hesitation, but also of surprise… and something building within her.

"What's that now?" Lyzar replied, grabbing the discarded hammer and the ball-and-chain.

"I can fight!" she spoke in a tone she didn't know she had. For a moment, she felt stronger, more vigilant… more confident.

As if the sudden realization sparked her growth, the sword's gem pulsed for a moment, as the blade went through a spectrum of luminescent colors.

The crowd gasped again, but now because of the short sword which was not so short anymore. As Kaina gripped the weapon with both hands, the sword's blade seemed to burst into life as it shimmered like a sliver of the sun.

"What kind of sorcery is this?" the now-frustrated aristocrat groaned.

"The spark that created the Fire." Demyan answered cryptically, making a smile so wide, he feared it would stay stuck.

Lyzar swung the ball and chain around trying to get some distance between himself and the girl, but was startled when the ball passed through the girl's blade on its first spin, as if it wasn't there.

Kaina grit her teeth and closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. As the chain whipped around, the ball was suddenly cut off as steel links, grown soft by the heat emitted from the blade. The spiked object flew out of the Circle of Battle and almost connected with one of the teachers, who ducked at the last second to dodge it.

Looking at the remaining weapons, Lyzar grabbed his own flamberge and turned towards the girl. Only, in his few seconds away from her, he didn't notice her move underneath him, crouching low against the ground, the searing blade turning the soft sand of the Circle's terrain into glass.

"Take this!" she shouted, swinging her left leg hard from underneath, connecting with his Achilles' heel and making the over-sized soldier topple to the ground, landing hard on his back.

Kaina rose from her position to notice a crowd in a state of shock and awe. Releasing her left hand from the sword's grip, the blade soon reverted to its short sword state, yet still glowed white-hot. Walking over to the slowly-recovering Lyzar, she placed her blade against the bottom of his jaw.

"Say it." were all Kaina said as the cadet noticed the tip of the weapon grazing against his skin. One false move and he would be having a very bad shave from a weapon that looked fresh out of the forge.

"I… yield…" he replied, his head dropping back to the ground.

It took a moment for the crowd to understand what had happened, and even longer for Kaina to understand as she felt her knees buckle and her legs give out. Never had she felt so scared…

She then heard the crowd. A few hand claps, soon followed by a score of them. She felt her strength return to her, even though her confidence had faded at the same time as the light from her blade.

Even though the noble didn't stay to pay for his lost wager, Demyan couldn't be any happier.

"It seems that girl has quite a few surprises." Reyvak added. "But I wonder… who is she, really?"

Demyan's smile didn't fade, even as he continued cheering as Kaina, the friend she met in his dreams, rose her sword in the air, relief appearing on her face. "An old friend." he answered cryptically.

Author's Note

I had to make a few corrections before posting it, so if you find anything wrong in this part, please let me know.