Chapter III

Vashti's training begins with The Mercenary.

Chapter III

 

            The next few weeks for Vashti were extremely trying. Every morning she was up before the sun and eating quickly then onto the training, sometimes differing between sword fighting, bow training, or just running along the trails that some small animal had made carrying packs of sand on her back. She would roll out of bed; scramble to eat a fast breakfast, and then be out at the clearing, waiting for Illudinevar to appear. He would already been up for several hours, in fact, she sometimes wondered if he ever actually did sleep. On most days he wouldn’t even speak but just motion or throw a weapon to her. The day dragged on from there. Most often she was pushed to where she didn’t care whether she got up again or not. Each day they fought The Mercenary pushed her harder and harder and each day she received more and more bruises. Gone was the soft young girl that had been taken from the merchant. In her place was a young woman that carried herself confidently and had toughened up.

            Each day she would also run the obstacle course over and over again, swinging herself along the bars, jumping over caverns, climbing ropes, and crawling along small spaces. At the end of the course was a dive off the waterfall and into the ice cold pool of water that collected there from the snow melt.

            Each time Vashti and Illudinevar fought, she found that she was getting less bruised and able to keep his blade off her neck for longer periods of time. At one such time Illudinevar stopped her.

            “Would you rather use two short swords or a knife and a sword? Watching your style it seems that it would be more suited to that. They would be smaller, lighter, and quicker. It would match your footwork.”

            “I’ll try it. I will have to adjust because I’ve never used them but it sounds like it would be better.”

            She caught the two light short-swords that he tossed to her and then swung them around, testing the weight of them. For awhile he watched as she swung them in arcs, blurring them together in a liquid silver flash. Only a few times could be heard the ring of steal as they clashed together.

            Finally he spoke. “Keep practicing for the rest of the day and we will begin again new in the morning. Use some of the practice dummies and practice your footwork as well. Use one sword to block and the other to strike. If you don’t like the weight of them, I have several on the wall that you can trade out at your will. Find what fits you and your style. I can only teach you so far, you have to mold it to your specific style.”

            He called Ikendenkara and once he appeared he sank down against the belly of the dragon, both of them watching the girl.

            I feel that you like the girl, Ikendenkara spoke slowly, waiting for the outburst from the Mercenary.

            I don’t know, answered Illudinevar even more slowly, watching Vashti as she moved through  a series of complicated twists and steps to simulate the steps of battle, swinging the swords in perfect unison with each other. I know what she has gone through. She has lost so much yet when I ask her to do something she asks no questions but does it with as much determination as I have ever seen. I never thought I would say this and I can feel The Mercenary rebelling against it, but I am out of my league with her. I expected at first to make it hard enough for her to break and go back to the city with joy. Now she’s done everything I have asked and I have begun to teach her more advanced things than I ever expected to.

            Maybe you should come to see who she really is. See that she is really as good as you want her to be and give her encouragement. Tell her that she has passed the tests you have set before her and can be your partner.

            I don’t work with a partner, The Mercenary snarled. I have and always will work alone. Illudinevar shook his head and began again, I’m sorry, he got out of control. I don’t know if I could work safely with her. I might kill her.

            He shrugged and then got up and began to build a fire for their evening meal. Vashti continued her practice, lost in the graceful dance of battle, actually seeing the enemies she vanquished. Several times Illudinevar caught himself stopping to watch her, her blades and hair catching the golden sunlight.

            She continued to dance around the clearing, unaware of anything outside of her own world, trying more and more complex moves as the time went on. She bent and twisted swing the swords, beads of sweat forming on her forehead and soaking the front of her shirt.

            After watching her for several minutes he finally decided to stop her and called out to her. So wrapped up in her fight she did not hear him. Again he called out to her; again she did not answer but continued to dance. Once more he called out to her but this time instead of voicing it he used his mind. A wall met up with him, so strongly was she in her battle that even he could not push past it. Meeting with the opposition he finally stood up and tapped her on her shoulder.

            Vashti spun in surprise, caught off guard by the presence of a real human, slicing one blade and nicking him in the arm. Before she was able to thrust the other blade behind it he had drawn a blade of his own and caught hers with the hilt, twisting it out of her grasp and throwing it far from her where it stuck upright in the dirt.

            Suddenly aroused out of her imaginary place by the actual clash of steal and by her sword flying out of her hand, Vashti looked around in surprise. Then, seeing the blood trickling from the gash on his arm, she swiftly dropped her other blade and softly touched the wound.

            “I am so sorry…I didn’t know…I mean…you came up…and…I was so caught up…and I was fighting.” She stammered her head down and her eyes brimming with tears threatening to overflow.

            Illudinevar could take the sight of blood jetting out of wounds or other gore on the battlefield. He could even take the screams and moans of pain as he watched his victims die but looking down at this girl he could not take to see the tears of sorrow and remorse at her actions. 

            “Don’t worry,” he soothed her, reaching under her chin to softly bring it up to look at him. “It was my fault, I should have known better. You fight very well. But come, you must be tired from all the exercise.” He shifted uncomfortably, trying to brush off the incident and then squatted down by the fire and began to ladle the soup that hung over the fire into bowls.

            Vashti began to sit down until she saw the cut on his arm. “Wait,” she stopped him by grabbing his arm. “We have to do something about the cut. I don’t want it to get worse. I’ve seen warriors die by cuts no bigger than this. Where do you keep your medicines?” she asked, standing up again.

            “I don’t keep medicines. I usually heal myself with magic.” He shrugged the question off.

            “Then why don’t you heal it now?”

            “It’s a tiny scratch; it’s not worth the time or the energy to heal it when it will do so itself in a day or two. I will be fine. Now sit down so that we can eat.”

            “Let me at least bandage it. I feel like I should do something, I mean, after all, I was the one who inflicted it on you,” she admitted worriedly.

            “You sound as if I was struck with the plague,” he said laughingly. “Believe it or not I have had worse wounds than this.”

            Yet, before he could stop her, she had jumped up and ran into the hut, soon after returning with some clean rags. After setting them down carefully she got up again and moved to the edge of the clearing where she pulled some plants out.

            “And what are those?” he asked, pointing towards the plants she had now placed beside herself.

            The plants in question were of a dark green color, spade shaped, with purple and yellow veins running through them. The tops were smooth but the bottom was as soft as velvet and each leaf were as large as his outstretch palm.

            “They are called Dragon’s Tongue,” she explained, kneeling down beside him and reaching for some. “They soothe open wounds and the juices help it to heal faster. Now let me see your arm.”

            She crushed a few in her hand and then took his arm and gently placed the leaves over his wound.

            “Ah,” he complained, “I thought you said it was supposed to soothe the wound!”

            “It will,” she explained gently as she picked up a rag. “Just let it work.”

            She then wrapped the rag around his arm, tying it off loosely to allow some air to go under the wound.

            He looked down at her handiwork and then looked back at her. “Where did you learn about these plants?”

            She looked up from her bowl. “My mother and aunt taught me before they were killed. Every young woman was expected to know at least the rudimentary practice of medicine so that she could heal her hunter when he was injured. As daughter of the chief I was no exception. In fact, I had to learn more than most.” She paused and looked down into the flames. “I still have nightmares about that night. The leader of the Twalegs will be forever etched in my memory. I remember his face clearly as he bent over my mother and stabbed her. The entire village was in flames illuminating everything. My father was slumped against the wall, watching everything yet unable to move because his enemy had already broken his back and stabbed him. I could see the tears streaming from his face as he watched his enemy grab my mother by the hair and thrust his curved blade through her chest clear to the hilt. That was the last thing my father saw. The leader then grabbed me and on the way out of the courtyard he stabbed my father once more through the heart. He kept me as his own after that. I tried to fight at every chance I had but he would not let me die. He was so cruel he said that dying would be too easy for me and that he still had use of me. After several years he finally received a price from the merchant that you took me from, a price that even he couldn’t refuse. On the day that he sold me I swore that I would return and avenge my family and my village!”

            She looked up, her eyes glinting with her anger, he, returning it with one of compassion.

            He finally spoke quietly. “I know how you feel. The only man I know as family was brutally killed by a war lord who only wanted more power. The man I knew as my father found me as a baby. He was Sasha, a known king of a thieving band. He was returning from raiding a caravan when he found me in a basket beside the road. A not was on it saying that I was meant to be found by him. He was an old man, even in Farling standards, we who are nearly immortal if we so choose. His occupation was that of a mercenary and thief. To each in his band he taught the trade. To some he would train in all sorts of weapons, others on healing, some on tactics, and still others in magic. He had broken down thieving and fighting to a perfect and beautiful art. I still don’t know why he did, but he felt compelled to pick me up that day and take me with him. I grew up with a band of mercenaries and cut-throats. Normally, since we are so long lived, children of my race do not begin their formal education and training but in my case he started soon after I could walk and talk. By the age of fifteen I was a better fighter than most in the band. I was taught a little of everything by Sasha. Even though I was so young, the youngest, in fact in the band, I was made his second in command.

            “At this time, the ruling family of the Farlings was being overthrown by several of the warlords at the time. They decided that the family was unfair at hording all the power and plotted against them. The country was going into ruins. There was also talk of spies in Sasha’s camp. I had begun to pull away from everyone because others were murmuring at how I was chosen to be leader at so young of age. Sasha had also begun to make plans of helping the royal family in their fight against the warlords. He thought that they had the right to rule, as it had been passed down generation to generation even from the Shealato himself.

            “A month later, just as we were preparing to march in defense of the royalty, a warlord swept in and wiped the band out. I had been out on my own, gaining information from the small hamlet nearby, about the size of forces that the warlords could bring to bear. On the return journey I heard the army as it attacked. You have never seen a battle until you have seen a battle fought by Farlings. We can disappear and reappear at a moment’s wish. Our senses are heightened beyond even that of the elves making us unstoppable. We were created by the Shealato to defend this earth from the demons and such. That was a fearful day. I arrived too late to do anything. As I came over the ridge, I watched as the captain of the warlord’s forces stabbed his spear into Sasha’s heart. I could do nothing; only stand frozen as I watched as if time itself had slowed down for that one brief moment. I was able to slaughter a few of the outlaying soldiers but as quickly as they came so did they disappear. From that moment on I swore that I would first kill the captain and then whoever was behind that attack. I trained every moment I could. I tried to gain all the information I could as well but could find no trace of trail left behind to tie it to any one warlord. Soon after, the country of Ashlath’Sun fell into ruin. The war between the royalty and the warlords wiped out most of the people living in that country. So much magic was expended that it sent a shock wave through the country, killing everything in its path. By that time I had already moved across the sea to here. I knew that the country was doomed and wanted to find a place where I could continue to live. So consumed by my rage and anguish, I fell to my rage and let The Mercenary consume me. I used all that training to get ahead of the puny human leaders who thought they were so powerful.  I worked with all for a price, watching as first one would fall by the hand that was paying me and then that one would fall by one with a higher price. A hundred years went by this way. I then heard of a warlord that had escaped the aftermath of the war and was now set up here as I was. She however, was more open with her powers and made her way up the ranks. From then on, I have tried to find if she had any connection to the death of Sasha.”

            He paused suddenly and shook himself out of his dreams. “I am sorry, I was rambling. I will help you to find your enemy and exact vengeance for the death of your family.”

            They each sat for some time, each absorbed in his or hers thoughts, the sun already set beneath the horizon, the fire popping and crackling and sending sparks shooting up into the night sky.

            Finally Vashti spoke. “I don’t expect you to help. After all he is my problem. I just wanted to have you train me. In return I would do whatever you wish. I would be forever in your debt. Even now I am in your debt because you gave me a chance. I have no wish to be a lady in a large city until my oath is fulfilled. Then, if you still so wish, I will return to Teledisar.” She bowed her head once she was finished to await his decision.

            He laughed softly. “I guess part of me considers it as a way to repay whoever is above for the life that I have lived so far. The other part of me hates it. I have no fealty except to those that pay me money and if someone pays me more money to betray the first, I do so. But this I consider an act of kindness. I am doing so only in payment of true friendship, something that I have very rarely had. I know of a place that we can find information on your enemy. If you so wish, we could leave tomorrow. To the south is a city of rogues, named Assakin. It has never been found by outside sources and has never been taken over by any outside force. However, it has been in constant war from the inside since it was started. If anyone has information, inside they will know. Sleep well tonight for we ride hard tomorrow.”

            She looked up at him, the anger finally depleted and replaced by compassion. “I consider myself your friend. Thank you for everything.”

 

Soon after Vashti got up and returned to the hut to get the much needed sleep because of the early hours of the day after. Illudinevar still sat by the fire and watched her walk away and then returned to watching the flames curl up from the white coals. As he watched, Ikendenkara appeared and curled up next to him, letting the warmth soak into his scales. 

After a few minutes of just sitting there, Illudinevar could take it no longer. I know what you are thinking. I do not know why I told her all that story of my younger days. I felt a pull to after she shared her story. I don’t know what I am feeling. I got a thrill as she told me she considered me her friend. I shouldn’t be feeling like that; only young children do. The Mercenary is rebelling inside me and I don’t want to give it up either, he gives me a sense of power and he makes me a better fighter. I myself don’t know how to act around her. My mind is in turmoil. I can’t believe that I offered to take her to Assakin. That place is a lions den especially for a young girl like her that is so inexperienced. What do I do dragon?

You know what to do. Look deeper. I cannot sway your mind anymore than you can sway mine. The girl brings out more out in you than I have ever seen in you. Don’t rebel against something that is so purely good. You said so yourself, it could be a chance to change the way you view the world.

But I don’t want to give up my life, Illudinevar argued. I am good at what I do and do not know anything else. I don’t want to change.

Look into your past, the dragon raised his head and peered directly into his eyes. You know that something is in your past that directs who you are. Think of the markings you have. No one has those set of markings without being in the ruling house. You also have the strongest set of markings that any Farling ever has had. Your destiny is great as long as you choose to follow it. The Farling race is not one of rogues, only few actually do that. Even Sasha chose that because he had fallen out of honor and knew he could get it back by siding with the royalty. You are more than this.

Leave me! The Mercenary surfaced again and roared out at the dragon. You have no right to bring up my past or Sasha! I know what my markings are but they do not dictate who I am or what I must do! Not even Sasha could tell what the combination meant; especially since I was abandoned. I own you dragon! You would still be caught in the plain of terror if I had not found you.

The dragon just looked at The Mercenary in contempt and then disappeared, leaving Illudinevar to brood on into the night on his own. The fire died not too long after but The Mercenary needed no light; his eyes glowed blue in his anger.

Author's Note

I know the chapter is a little short but I will be adding as I see fit.