Proven

by H. M. Clarke

  “By Bellus, what happened to the path?” Her words did not seem to carry far and when Ryn turned back to glare at the Knight Sergeant, all she could see was mist, reeds and water. “I was caught that quickly? Ashe wasn’t joking about the confusion spells then.”

  A solid path lead away to her left and was only a foot away from her. She drew her sword and used it to prod at the path and was satisfied when the point hit solid earth and stone. She tried to pull her feet from the muck but found them stuck, every move seemed to drag her down more. “Shit, buggar, bum, poo.” The words slipped from her tongue in her frustration. Ryn slung her shield over her back finding it now more a hindrance than a help and began to use her sword as a makeshift shovel to dig the mud away from her feet. After a good fifteen minutes, she got first her left foot and then finally her right foot freed and quickly made her way onto the solid path before she could get stuck again.

  “Now my boots are covered in filth. They are going to take forever to get clean tonight.” She wiped her blade against her pant leg and then sent the sword home in its scabbard. She then took a good look around at her surroundings.

  “I don’t recognize anything here from Donal’s descriptions… He’s going to kill me. Or turn me into a slug.”

  The only thing she could do was walk the path and hope to Bellus that she would accidently run into Donal.

  Ryn trudged down the path. It was thin and winding but at least it was solid. On either side of the track, the still water glittered like jewels when the breeze rippled the water enough to catch the early morning sunlight. Small drifts of fog clung around the reed beds and wizened trees, but were slowly being burnt away by the morning sun. The further in she went, the more stagnant the smell became. Donal had warned her, but she had thought he was over exaggerating it. Now, she knew he had not emphasized it enough. By Bellus, she could even taste the stench–yuck.

  She kept her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready for anything that might spring out at her. But she could hear nothing except the song of insects and the occasional chirp of a bird. It was as if the fog that clung stubbornly to the shoreline muffled the sound of everything around her.

  Ryn kept walking.

  And walking.

  And walking.

  The path kept winding its merry way through the swamp. It did not branch off anywhere, and it did not widen more that it was. Ryn was beginning to wonder whether the mages had forgotten to enchant this section of the Proving Grounds. She should have run into something by now, if not some Blackwatch enemies than at least another cadet.

  Ryn kept walking, though now the stillness and quiet was making her uneasy. She drew her sword, the sound of the scrapping metal rang loud and garish against the cotton wool dampness of the swamp. The weight of the blade in her right hand was comforting, it also gave her a much needed confidence boost that maybe, this lack of activity might be part of the test.

  Or she was just lost.

  She continued following the path and was rewarded when it finally began to widen as it met the shoreline of either the swamp edge or a rather large island. Either way, Ryn was happier about being surrounded by dirt and not dank, smelly water. Now that there was room enough to fight, something might happen. She now stood in the center of the small clearing and waited.

  And waited.

  And she saw no one.

  It then occurred to her that there was one extra warrior in the cadet pool, and if she had not yet met another cadet, another mage, then….

  “Shit, buggar, bum, poo.” The phrase spat out from her mouth and was automatically followed by a loud screech of frustration. “I CANNOT be the last. I cannot. Knight Sergeant Kuma is going to kill me.” She let the tip of her sword drop to the ground as she felt the shame of defeat claim her.

  And that was when it started.

  Movement erupted around Ryn and she barely had time to yank the cord to release her shield from her back before they were on her. The shield dropped to the ground, leaning against the back of her legs, and as she bought her sword up to fend off the first blow she spun around in a movement, she had practiced to death with Ashe, reaching back and scooping the shield straps into her left arm so that she could use it for quick defense.

  She got the shield ready just in time as something metal slammed into it so hard Ryn felt the vibrations run up the bone in her arm, causing her to scream out in shock. In response, she threw some weight into the shield and pushed back against the attack coming from that side while using her blade to furiously parry the first attack.

  It was then that she got a good look at her attackers.

  Ah Shit. That’s all I need.

  Murgots.

  A lot of Murgots.

  Ryn parried and then did a riposte that scored a satisfying bloom of red along her opponent’s upper arm. The Murgot screeched in pain and then gnashed its teeth and doubled down on its effort to remove her head from her neck. A few more parries and the Murgot backed away. She angled her shield back behind her, trying to protect her rear from those behind. Ryn took this moment to assess her situation. A quick head count showed that there were five ringing her, which meant that there were probably another five hiding in the underbrush or on their way. If this was part of her test, then it wasn’t a fair one–she had not met her mage as yet.

  “A little help would be nice,” Ryn shouted out as loud as she dared. Murgots could be unpredictable and that was what made them dangerous. “Five against one is not fair odds! By Bellus, I hope this is part of my testing….” The last was under her breath as the Murgots circled in for a new attack.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A loud cry shattered the peace of the morning.

  Dagan was startled awake, reaching for his staff and only remembering just in time that he had made his bed up a tree the night before. It was the only dry place he could find in this Bellus forsaken, mosquito infested swamp. He lay still a moment, his back pressed comfortably against the trunk of the tree, one leg dangling from the branch he was resting on and listened.

  Carried on the breeze came the faint sounds of ringing metal. And it did not sound like someone cooking breakfast. Dagan cocked his head in the direction of the sounds and listened again. Definitely someone fighting. As long as they keep it over there it shouldn’t concern him…

  Dagan leaned back against the trunk and reached up into his pack which was hanging from a nearby branch to grab an apple. He bit into it and the satisfying crunch briefly drowned out the sound of swordplay.

  “A little help would be nice.” The woman’s call intruded into Dagan’s contemplation of his apple. It had to be a woman, it was the one soft spot that Dagan couldn’t resist. A woman in distress. By Bellus, what was a woman doing out here in this place?

  He bit into his apple and reached up to unhook his staff and pack from their tree limb and then slipped down from his branch landing on the ground in a low crouch. He then slung his pack over his shoulder and moved silently towards the sounds of fighting. He slipped amongst the thick reeds and trod carefully through the squelching mud until he could see a small group of black furred Murgots fighting furiously against something in a clearing.

  Dagan slipped his pack from his shoulder and placed it aside near the base of a small tree and then moved forward, still in his low crouch, his staff held ready in his right hand. The thick reeds concealed his presence, but the Murgots were too busy to notice him even if he jumped out and yelled surprise.

  The woman they were fighting was dressed in light armor and used her shield and sword with enough skill to show that she had been well trained. Even so, she was not skilled enough to fend off five Murgots by herself. She needed help. By Bellus, what is she doing out here?

  Dagan watched a moment longer, chewing at his bottom lip. She was trying to use her shield to stop them flanking her, and that left a larger opening in front that her sword work had to compensate for. A dead Murgot lay near her feet but there were still plenty more to worry her. The girl was good with
a sword he’d give her that, but she was outnumbered and will eventually be worn down enough for one of them to get a lucky strike in to finish her. He should just go and leave her to fate.

  But something within him stirred and kept him couched by the edge of the clearing.

  Then his conscience got the better of him and gripping his staff in his right hand, Dagan stood up from the reeds and thrust his staff out before him.

  Power flared in his gut and within the blink of an eye, it moved through his chest and up his arm. He then channeled that power into his staff. The secret runes inscribed along the length of the staff flared to life in a flash of pale blue light. The fighting Murgots still had not seen him and Dagan took full advantage of this.

  Dagan walked slowly forward and with the flick of his staff, a small blue fireball shot from its tip to hit one of the Murgots square in the back. It howled in pain and then screamed in agony as the magical flames quickly flowed all over its body and quickly consumed it. The creature’s scream caught the attention of the others and, seeing what happened to their comrade they quickly fled.

  The girl turned, her sword raised to ward off a new threat, but as soon as she saw he was human she lowered her blade. “Thank you.”

  She had long black hair tied in a thick braid that fell down her back and as he walked closer, he could see that her eyes were as gray as thunderclouds over a stormy coast. Even with the hair pulled back and the not very flattering armor, he could see that she was pretty.

  “What in Bellus’s name are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be at home sewing or something?” he snapped.

  The girl instantly straightened her posture and the expression on her friendly, pretty face hardened like a stone.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said-”

  “I heard what you said. Do I look like someone who spends all day sewing to you?”

  Dagan ground the base of his staff into the dirt and leaned on it as he shrewdly contemplated the woman before him. Now that he was closer, he could see that she was a little older than he initially thought. And she also did not look like the typical slippered town woman either.

  “Well, no. No you don’t. You look like someone who likes to get into a lot of trouble.”

  She glared at him a moment longer and then burst out laughing. “You are not far wrong there.” She stepped forward, moving her sword to her off hand and held out her right hand to Dagan. “Hi, I’m Kathryn Weaver but my friends call me Ryn. And no. My parents weren’t weavers. And you are?” She looked expectantly at him.

  Dagan looked down at her hand and, moving his staff over to his left, took it in a firm handshake. The skin of her hand was hard and callused and showed the ingrained dirt of someone who worked with their hands. So, not a pampered highborn or someone who lives with them. Maybe she wasn’t playing at being a soldier.

  “My name is Dagan. Dagan Drake.”

  Kathryn’s brow quickly furrowed though she did not release his hand.

  “Dagan? So roughly translated, you are called Dragon Dragon? How original,” She said with a smile and a touch of disbelief.

  Dagan sighed. He always had this reaction to his name from those who knew languages. It also seems that this soldier has had some form of formal education. Most unusual.

  “My mother had a sense of humor.”

  “Had?”

  Trust this woman to pick up on that. It was a slip of the tongue, and his mother was not a subject Dagan wanted to discuss with a stranger. It was a topic he really did not want to talk about at all.

  “She passed on several years ago.”

  The woman’s face seamlessly slipped from one of disbelief to one of compassion.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  The look on her face told Dagan that her platitude was genuine but, it was too early in the morning for all of this emotional crap. So he said the first thing that slipped onto his tongue.

  “Why? Did you have something to do with her death?”

  The compassion abruptly turned to surprise and shock at the question.

  “No! Of course not.”

  “Then there is no need for you to be sorry.”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Ryn moved her sword back into her main hand, but she did not clean it and put it away.

  “What school are you from?”

  “School?” The abrupt turn in conversation threw Dagan. What has being stuck out in the middle of a swamp have to do with school?

  “I’m from Brookhaven.” She quickly added as she noticed the look of confusion on his face.

  Brookhaven. There was a keep near this swamp called Brookhaven. It is a-

  “Are you part of the Blackwatch?”

  “Ah…. Yes. Why else would a cadet be here in this Bellus forsaken swamp?” Ryn gestured to her surroundings with the point of her sword as she spoke. “The Proving is the final step to entering as a full member of the Blackwatch.” She then looked at him askance. “Did you take a blow to the head or something from one of those Murgots?”

  “You’re a cadet?”

  “Of course. Aren’t you?”

  A cold sliver of fear sliced down Dagan’s spine as he heard those words.

  “Is there a Proving going on at the moment?” Dagan could not keep the sense of urgency from his voice.

  “Well, yes. Of course. That’s why we’re here… Right?”

  “Are the Spells active?”

  “I was hit by a confusion spell when I entered which is why I am out here. Donal is going to kill me.” She muttered the last under her breath.

  “You’re a Blackwatch warrior going through her Proving. And I am a mage who helped you… Shit.”

  “Just what do you mean by that?”

  Hurt and consternation at his words were plain on her face. Dagan closed his eyes to center himself. A calm mind is always in control his mother had always said. Once he had composed himself, he answered.

  “I’m a Wilder Mage. I’m not Blackwatch.”

  “A Wilder Mage? What are you doing in here? The Proving Grounds were locked off over a week ago to prepare for today.”

  “I camped here last night. There was no one or nothing to stop me. I should have been magically repulsed at the border, but I wasn’t. Why was that?”

  The problem pushed all other thoughts from Dagan’s mind as he rummaged through his brain to discover a reason why he would be able to pass through the Proving boundary. Spell mechanics and logic problems are his favorite things to work on. And it helped him not to think on what the ramifications of this action could mean for him.

  “Well, there aren’t any Blackwatch observers here. Maybe-”

  At that moment a Murgot broke out from the surrounding reeds and charged, weapon raised, straight at Dagan’s exposed back. Ryn immediately bought up her sword and shield and stepped around him, using the metal shield to pummel his attacker in the head and chest, push it back and then follow through with a sword thrust into the creature’s side just under the ribs.

  The glyphs on Dagan’s staff flared blue as he let power flow into it again, and he moved to stand back to back with Ryn as more Murgots appeared out of the surrounding reeds. It looks like the ones he scared off have come back with some friends. They must be desperate–or really hungry.

  “Well, Dagan. Wilder Mage or not, it looks like you and I will be fighting together for a little while yet.” Ryn called out as she angled her shield to take the blow from a rushing Murgot.

  Dagan did not answer as he was slightly busy with Murgots himself. He had four facing him and they were not in the mood to talk.

  Their mud black skin and fur looked dull and unkempt and Dagan saw the look of hunger in all of their eyes. The season was late turning towards spring and the game has not yet returned to the area. Their lips peeled back on their canid like jaws to show yellowed, sharp teeth and their tails wagged back and forth, giving them the agility needed to stay upright on their dog like legs. They are only this daring becaus
e of self-preservation. Their problem now though was that Dagan liked his own flesh and blood exactly as it is now and not dissolving in some Murgot’s belly.

  The pale blue light emitting from his staff reflected back at him from their dark eyes and for this moment the threat of its power gave them pause. So, these Murgots have had experience with mages before then. Dagan tightened his grip on the staff. Ryn bumped into his back as she stepped back from her attackers with a clash of steel, and he took that moment to act.

  In the blink of an eye, he swept his staff up and from its steel shod base erupted a bolt of chain lightning. It hit the first Murgot in the chest, knocking him back and then it branched out and hit the four creatures standing with him. Three more dropped to the ground, their burnt, smoking flesh and hair now thick in Dagan’s nostrils. That now left two.

  He stepped forward, twirling the staff above his head until the light of its runes blurred into a single ball of energy, and then used the staff to hurl that energy at the ground between the two Murgots. The ball exploded and Dagan turned his head to protect his eyes from the flash.

  “By Bellus’s Bloody Balls, what was that?”

  It was Ryn’s voice. He opened his eyes and saw her standing before him, shield on her left arm and sword held loosely in her right. Behind her lay the bodies of four Murgots. His eyebrow rose, impressed at the accomplishment in spite of himself.

  “It was a little trick I picked up from another Wilder Mage a few years ago.”

  “Language Cadet.” The deep voice rumbled into the clearing.

  “Knight Sergeant!” Ryn automatically slung her shield to her back and snapped to attention.

  Dagan turned at the sound of the new voice and sighed. The blue light from his staff suddenly winked out as he relaxed his grip on his weapon and withdrew the power feeding the glyphs. He didn’t need to look at the newcomer.

  “Hello, Kuma.”

  “Dagan!” The surprise in the man’s voice gave Dagan a moment of conceited gratification. He looked at the men moving through the reeds behind Kuma and frowned.