Chapter 1: Sparring

Introduces main characters and a minor antagonist.

The leaves of the trees were finally turning to the majestic autumnal colors that mark the beginning of fall.  The brilliant hues of yellow and red blended with the orange and brown leaves, emanating a soft golden glow reflected from the setting sun.  The lake resting in the middle of the forest glittered, reflecting the golden leaves, as children splashed and played under the hot sun.  The water reflected the sun like a wavy mirror, splashing light on the surrounding trees.

 

About five hundred yards away stood magnificent Rookwood Castle, housing the best academy within the empire’s borders.  The boastful spires reached nearly seven hundred feet into the crystal clean air, challenging the wind to blow them down.  Banners fluttered in the wind, crimson red with navy lettering—ROOKWOOD ACADEMY—sprawled across their lengths.  The stones of the castle were a faint grayish-blue, but strong enough to outlast the centuries of wear and tear from the elements.  The lower parts of the castle were newer, expanded parts of a monolith originally intended as a fortress, now taken over by the arts.  They were more square in their design than that of the circular and conical towers of the highest reaches, and allowed for more rooms to be built in which to house the many students learning within its protection.

 

The courtyard of Rockwood Castle stretched four acres across.  A cobblestone path led from the thick oak doors to a fountain nestled in the middle of the courtyard, and extended to the stairs leading to the main entrance of the castle.  Shrubbery lined the walls of the castle, trimmed weekly by the gardeners.  Two small orchards were placed on either side of the cobblestone path, one with apple trees, the other with peach trees. 

 

The fountain trickled gaily, its gurgle audible across the courtyard.  A light breeze whisked away some of the heat of the day, although it was still very hot.  The faint smell of ripe apples emanated from the right, as two men strode town the cobblestone path towards the castle.  The first man was the younger of the two, at thirty-seven years of age.  He had recently been appointed mayor of Venai, a commercial city located a mile away from the castle.  He wore a crimson vest over a beige cotton shirt, tucked into brown trousers.  On his feet he wore snakeskin boots.  He had a round face and green eyes that seemed to pierce right through anything they saw.  His voice wasn’t high pitched, but it wasn’t low-pitched either.  Nonetheless, it could project across large rooms easily.

 

The other man beside him was the Headmaster of the Academy, significantly older than the mayor.  He wore crimson robes, with the golden emblem of Rookwood Academy emblazoned on the upper left of his robe, a cursive R surrounded by the words, Scientia est vox.  Although he was old, he exuded a sense of youth and wryness through his sparkling blue eyes.

 
“So,” asked the Headmaster, “what brings you to our Academy today, Oliver?  Hopefully not more inspections?”

 

“I’m afraid so, Nicolai.  The Emperor has been tightening many security measures recently.  He says he’s worried about the ‘welfare of the empire,’ but I don’t believe it.  And if I don’t comply to laws, I won’t be able to monitor the supplies passing to the capital…”

 

“Enough, we best not speak of this now.  Wouldn’t want someone to hear us, I think.” 

By this time, they had reached the main doors of the castle.  Entering, they proceeded to an upper floor, where the Headmaster’s chambers lay nestled into the northeast corner. 
Once inside, the headmaster offered a seat to the mayor, who declined.

 

“How goes the inner workings of the Empire?” asked Nicolai, referring to the supplies. 

 

“Troubling.  The emperor is importing thousands of pounds of food per hour, and weapons by the hundreds.  It seems to me that he may be preparing for some kind of war, but if the Emperor is so confident that the Rebellion is weak, why would he be gathering so many supplies?”

“His army is doubtless large, and it would make sense that they would need the supplies.”  Nicolai rubbed his temples, thinking about the strange occurrence.  “Is there anything else that you have noticed?”

“No, nothing in particular.  Just the odd wagon of foreign goods.”

“What kind of goods?”

 

“Furs, jewelry—particularly amulets,” he added, “and other stuff of the like.  All headed to the capital.” 

 

“I will think on this, Oliver.  But I believe it is time for your inspection.”

 

“You are right.”  Oliver stood, walking to the door.

*   *   *   *   *

 

 Much like the courtyard, the inner castle was very large.  The entrance hall was magnificent; from its walls hung tapestries depicting the early days of the castle.  The fabric was beginning to fade, but that did not dull their brilliance one bit.  The room was lit by four very tall windows positioned towards the entrance at the eastern wall, to catch the morning sun.  The entrance hall led into the main concourse, where there were three main corridors.  The one on the left led to the south wing, the one on the right led to the north wing, and the one straight ahead led to the west wing.  Stairs began immediately to the right of the entrance, and allowed access to the upper floors and their respective wings.  On the third floor, in an out of the way room in the south end of the west wing, classes were held for weapons training, a class deemed illegal by the Emperor.  Within this room, two students each held a fencing rapier, and were standing ready at opposite sides of a mat.  Each wore a metal mesh mask, bib, arm protectors, and a fencing jacket and pants. 

“Weapons at the ready!” announced the instructor.  Each combatant raised their sword to a forty-five degree angle, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.  Around the room, other students lined the walls, watching with intensity as the instructor spoke.  “Begin.”

Immediately, the two opponents began circling one another, looking for a chance to strike.  After the first few blows, the two became wary of the other’s style, and they began circling each other once again.  Soon after, one of them slightly lowered their sword, preparing to strike, and with blinding speed, the other whipped across the mat, struck his opponent’s rapier, sending it across the mat, and landed a solid blow to his enemy’s chest, sending him to the floor and winning the match. 

Reaching up to his mask, he pulled it off, his dirty blond hair flopping onto his forehead, drenched in sweat.  His deep blue eyes scanned the room, before he smiled and stepped from the mat.  His opponent took off his mask, his dark brown hair streaming down to his shoulders.  His black eyes glowed with resentment as he haughtily stomped from the mat, ripping off his arm guards. 
   

“Neatly done Ian,” spoke the instructor, walking up to the victor. 

 

“Thanks, Mr. Daniels.”

 

Mr. Daniels continued on towards the loser of the match.  “Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.  You’ve got to work on your reflexes.  Other than that, keep your guard up.  When you let it slip, you got slashed across the leg.  That kind of slip could cost you your life in a real battle, now stop moping and go change. 

 

“Yes sir, Mr. Daniels,” said Lucas, with an acid tongue.  He quickly walked over to an antechamber marked ‘Boys.’  The antechamber was about a third as large as the room it entered into.  There were separate racks for each differently piece of equipment spread across the wall, continuing all around the room.  Ian was changed before Lucas even came into the room. 

 

“Hey Lucas, good match.”  Ian offered his hand to Lucas.  Lucas walked right by, as if he hadn’t even seen Ian.  “Alright then.”  Ian walked out into the main room again, walking to the opposite side of the room.  “Hey guys, who’s next?” he asked to a small group of kids his age.

“Crystal and Vince,” answered a tall, lanky kid, twirling bangles around his wrist. 

“Oh, really?  This could be interesting,” he leaned against the wall, turning towards the mat.  Ian, Crystal, and Vince were close friends.  Since they were five, they had done everything together, been everywhere together, and were nigh inseparable.  Just minutes later, Vince entered the room from the opposite chamber, and Crystal entered the room from the antechamber on Ian’s side of the room.  The instructor started the match, and Ian watched as Crystal and Vince sparred.  For ten full minutes they sparred, only landing two hits apiece out of the five required to win the battle.  Soon, they began to become fatigued; their swords drooping lower and lower.  Then, in an effort to end the match, Crystal unleashed a flurry of attacks, scoring two hits out of many attacks.  Vince parried and countered her last strike, scoring a point.  Match point.  The instructor only allowed a cumulative total of ten points per match, to reduce time spent on the mat.  Thus said, Crystal had five points, and Vince had four.  If Crystal could land one more hit she would win, and if Vince scored a hit, it would be a draw.  Just seconds later Vince attacked randomly, his blade coming within a centimeter of her chest, but just missed as she twisted to the side, landing a hit on his back, and winning the match.  The tension in the room visibly lifted, as shoulders relaxed and breathing resumed among the onlookers.  Crystal and Vince shook hands, and went to their changing rooms to change.  Thinking back, Ian thought of Lucas glaring at him after their match.  Since as long as he could remember, Lucas had always wanted to be better than him.  And he always made a point of it, whenever he got higher grades, which was seldom.  It wasn’t Ian’s fault though; he just did what came to him naturally.  Lifting from his reverie, Ian crossed the room to talk to Vince as he reentered the room.  Vince was just an inch taller than Ian, but he had green eyes and cropped brown hair.

“Nice fight.  You did well,” said Ian. 

“Thanks.  She’s a tough cookie.  Thought I had her there at the end, with the feint, but she saw through it.”

 

“You’re just jealous of my skills,” said Crystal as she approached.  Crystal was several inches shorter than Ian.  Her brown eyes were framed by her black bangs.  Her silky black hair hung to just below her shoulders. 

 

Vince scoffed, “Yeah, maybe I am.  Maybe I’m not.  It doesn’t matter.  It was fun, that’s all I care about.”

 

“Even if you were attacked by bandits?” asked Ian.

 

“Personally, I’d rather not be attacked.  But, on the off chance I was attacked, yeah, I would care more about winning.”

 

This conversation carried on while they traversed the castle’s stairway up to the fourth floor, where the entire floor was devoted to a library where all books ever written eventually ended up.  The library was, to say the least, massive, since humankind had been writing for over a millennia, most of the books being monologues written about some random subject.  Many of them were devoted to philosophy.  Some were history texts, and the author’s notes that usually added some kind of value to a particular event.  The rest of the books were in a restricted access area in the southwestern corner, which supposedly held books on sorcery and alchemy, according to urban legend.  What made this seem so, was the fact that every time you went near the place, you remembered something else, and were compelled to attend to that something else.  Thus creating a repelling force from the restricted area.  Not even the librarians knew why this occurred.  They just knew that in two hundred years, not a soul had entered that section of the library.  Ian, Crystal and Vince took residency at a table in the northeastern corner, and began flipping through pages of philosophy books, writing down notes on pieces of parchment, for one essay or another.  Eventually, a bell in the bell tower struck four times, and they promptly gathered up their belongings and headed out of the library, down the winding stairs, and out of the castle.  From there, they journeyed for one mile into the town of Venai.  Venai was a bustling city by day, and a quiet city by night.  At four in the afternoon every day, caravans were loaded and began to travel to cities across the Empire, taking supplies to them and engaging in trade.

 

Venai had many streets that spiderwebbed out from the central square.  Most buildings were built from brick and mortar, with metal roofs.  As buildings got further away from the square, many of them began to form houses instead of industrial or commercial buildings.  These houses were mostly built of wood instead of brick, because wood was much cheaper.  Once there, the trio split apart, each heading for their own houses.

(more will be added onto this at a later date)

Author's Note

Any constructive criticism would be nice.

Reviews

[GypsyAlien3303]

Great descriptive prowess, and the sparring matches were great, dialog was decent. I feel like it's missing something though. Maybe giving the characters more life or a bit more personality... I'm not sure, I can't quite put my finger on it. Overall I think it's a good start:)