“Jess, look to the window," Malek whispered curtly under his breath. Jess caught his gaze and followed it, surprised to see the dozens of students gazing raptly from the great second story balcony that faced these training grounds. Though the field was clear save for Eloquin's disciples, it appeared that rumors of the bout had spread throughout the school. Rumors that Eloquin, who was normally quite secretive with the training he put his elite students through, was going to perform today's session before the school entire.
Jess exchanged a knowing look with Malek, Alex having informed them both that the reason they were holding the sparring matches upon the training grounds by the main building wasn’t to show off their prowess, but because certain dark sigils had to be cleansed from the mock village that was their standard place of practice, and the less people who knew about what was really going on, the better. And where questions would inevitably be raised if they trained at a more distant location, or worse, didn’t prepare for the tournament as a group at all, no one would blame Eloquin for showing off the prowess of his students on the fields just outside the main keep before the big day.
Jess chuckled softly, only feeling slightly self-conscious as she caught the gaze of a brilliantly attired Raphael, oiled locks blowing gently in the breeze, Josie wearing sky blue as always, held gently by his side. She gave Jess a heartwarming grin as Raphael favored his friends below with a bemused smile and nod. Normally her friends only watched her sparring in the most casual sense. Never had she felt quite so much on display.
It was then Jess noted the girl holding Josie's other hand. Serie. A girl she had long admired, and, if the wondrous Guild account was anything to go by, had rescued from darkest dream as well.
Heart suddenly racing, Jess caught the young woman's gaze, Serie's own eyes widening in surprise as she suddenly looked away, and Jess could swear she was blushing. Jess couldn’t help it, she broke out into a brilliant smile of her own. She sighted Alex and Jera in the crowd as well, both giving her approving nods, and Jacob’s eternally dark attire and brooding gaze were unmistakable.
Malek gave Jess the slightest of bumps. “Let’s make them proud, shieldsister.”
Jess gave a fierce nod of accord as she and Malek turned to face their commander as one, feeling that odd, momentarily disorienting frisson of awareness once more. As one they stood at attention before the former general of Erovering's most elite and unorthodox forces, the man who was credited for staving off dire defeat at the hands of Velheim's massive mercenary army. Considering that Velheim's treasury had itself been bled dry by the conflict as well, according to various Crown Agents, Erovering's elite squad of royal enforcers, spies, and executioners, neither nation had emerged unscathed from the bloody war fought nearly two decades ago.
All stood at attention as Eloquin, kitted in breastplate and helm over a full mail hauberk, steel plate covered boots and gauntlets completing his well-used and exquisitely cared for ensemble, exchanged fist to chest salutes with his students, all stepping to attention and bowing before their commander. Eloquin gave a sharp little nod before taking his embossed war helm off, making a show of slowly circling Malek and Jess, as if analyzing every nuance of their armaments and stance. He gave a subtle smile of approval and stepped back. Jess blinked, relieved that they seem to have passed the first test, their commander not dressing them down for some breach of preparation in front of their peers and the plethora of students looking on at their practice session.
Eloquin turned to address his elite band. "Here before us we have two of your best. Well trained in the arts of war. They, like all of you before me today, have dedicated themselves to these arts with a fierce passion. Some fools might argue that your dedication to this most rigorous and ruthless path of study is obsessive, safe and comfortable as our detractors are in the brief spring of tranquility our nation now enjoys. But as any true student of war realizes with his very first lessons, this sweet time of peace is but the blink of an eye in the endless maelstrom of horror and battle that is the true state of existence."
He paused, gazing at each of them till one by one they all turned their eyes away. “I will say to you this. Peace is promised to no man. War, when she comes, will strike fierce and hot, testing the crucible of your resolve, the steal of your spirit! Whatever the circumstances, however it should occur, when an enemy’s weapon is raised against your own, when he seeks nothing less than your life's-blood upon his blade, it is your skill alone that will save you from the horror of being butchered alive upon the field of battle, or the degradation of being sold as a slave. For peace is promised to no man, and our enemies do not rest quite so quietly as some would hope.”
Eloquin then turned to Jess and Malek. "These two, as you know, besides being dedicated students also had the luck, or folly some might say, to be gifted with the Delver's art. But a handful of days ago they had crossed the barrier of dreams, entering the twisted remnants of a wizard long fallen to necromancy, or so the legends now state. Legends transcribed by bards at our very University.
"Sadly, it was not the place of unimaginable treasures, a wealth of knowledge our Wizards had so dearly hoped it would be. Rather, it was a trap of sorts, and well sprung. A dozen of our best students were almost caught in a snare of dreams and madness that would like as not have consumed their very souls, had our well-trained friends here not had the courage, one might even say the madness, to charge headlong right into a lich's den, and through luck and skill pull off the unthinkable. Successfully foiling the machinations of the foul undead who had plotted our school's downfall, and getting out alive to tell the tale."
General Eloquin formally bowed before Jess and Malek and all let out a collective gasp, their instructor paying the two students before him an honor very few not of royal blood had earned.
“In return for their heroic services on behalf of Highrock, they have both been awarded the Medallion of Valor, having risked their very lives in defense of our own." Lord Eloquin's voice had grown oddly solemn, peers and onlookers alike growing strangely quiet, before a gentle clapping that turned to a heartfelt applause erupted from the students en masse.
“They have shown honor, the true courage of brothers in battle, their double-edged gifts having served us well. Yet there is a price to be paid in showing one's hand, even in saving one's allies. For that very gift can be used against you, if you are not careful." He flashed a humorless smile, though his eyes, Jess felt, were almost apologetic. Jess felt her heart lurch, knowing and dreading what she knew was coming.
“I am sorry Jess, Malek. I know how diligently you both have trained. I know how you both wanted to lead the vanguard this year in the grand melee, bringing our team to victory as you have in years past. However, it has been judged that the very skills you used to aid our college in its time of need would prove too much of an advantage, were you two to be pitted against other students in the general melee."
Eloquin paused a moment, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. Jess closed her eyes and grimaced. It was true then. Malek had guessed correctly. Lord Hyve, the knight commander who Mord trained under, or perhaps someone else, already intimidated by Eloquin’s brilliant tactics and elite students, wanted to take away whatever edge they could to even the odds. And if that meant pulling out students who had proven themselves in the crucible of Shadow, rescuing their fellows from certain doom, then that’s what they would try to do. And obviously it had worked.
“Bloody hells," Malek muttered. "I knew it. I just knew it."
Eloquin's smile did not touch his ice blue eyes. The eyes of a commander forged in the most brutal of conflicts, renowned and feared as the most brilliant and ruthless of generals to command Erovering troops in generations. "A cold move, some of you might declare; using our elite students' own courageous acts against them, but it is a brilliant move, tactically. To be ruthless, to hinder your enemy at every opportunity."
He turned to face Jess and Malek once more, and Jess found herself looking away from the f
athomless depths of his gaze. "We know our opponents fear them. Let us see if there is any validity to those fears. Now it is time for us to test them. Test their ability to work together, against all odds, against all foes. It is time for us to see if the legends are true, in the only way that truly matters. The dance of blood and steel."
Jess began to feel a definite sinking in the pit of her stomach. As everyone was helmeted in full gear, she couldn’t make out individual expressions but she could all but taste the mounting excitement from her fellows as Eloquin pointed to several at random.
“You three. Approach the circle. Jess, Malek, unsheathe your practice blades and prepare yourselves, for your test is about to begin. The rules are simple!" Commander Eloquin barked. "A solid strike and you are down. You are all to be considered well armored in plate and mail. Light taps are meaningless against fully armored foes in the heat of battle. A good strike and you will fall. If you do not call it, I will, and you will prefer it if you make the call, not I. Finally, Jess, Malek, you are both to work together. In all things. You are not limited to the circle. Once combat is joined, move as you will." All five gave slow nods.
Jess couldn’t help herself, she felt the heady rush of excitement coursing through her, warring with and quickly surpassing the bitter loss she felt at learning she was not to be allowed to fight for Eloquin’s team in the general melee at tournament. She let all regret burn away in the hot excitement of battle to come, grinning with fierce, sweet joy as she anticipated the thrill of combat, the test of steel.
“Let’s give ‘em hell, Malek!” Jess whispered fiercely, Malek grunting once in assent. She raised her blade in unicorn stance as her two opponents carefully approached. They raised their blades in vom Tag, high and ready for powerful hammering blows, and with a silent nod to each other, charged as one.
And the training yard rang with the sound of blade kissing blade, being forced away, as strong bound to weak and Jess slammed her sword into an off-balanced opponent's chest, dancing away even as his partner lashed out with a savage Mittelhau strike, as if he wanted to cleave her in two. She could tell that Malek was just warming up as he circled by her, keeping his own adversary at range, as Jess and her shieldbrother started to circle them as one, with the smooth skill of partners long used to the dance. As there were multiple challengers, it was more important than ever to seize the Vor, to grab the initiative and lash out with offensive regularity, forcing their rivals to focus upon countering, so as to control the flow of battle and prevent getting overwhelmed. Of course, to master the flow of battle, Jess knew she must stay absolutely focused at all times, both on her foes, and her surroundings.
Jess grinned. Feeling utterly in tune with her sword, her opponents, and her shieldbrother. She somehow sensed perfectly when the fellow before her was about to attempt his feint, striving to slide his blade around hers, to lash out low when Jess struck high. Yet Jess was always ready. It was as if the fourth year student was saying aloud his moves, by the minute flexes in posture and muscle that Jess read like a tome.
With increasing speed and assurance Jess pressed her attack, showing her mastery of the art of Mutieren, morphing her Zwerchhau strike snapping out toward her adversary's temple into a savage lunge, slamming her training blade hard against his chest, her foe's sword caught offline, parrying a feint. He stumbled back with a wheeze and collapsed to the ground out of breath, no need for Eloquin to call the point. "Ha!" She heard her shieldbrother cry out in triumph as she smoothly turned to his side to aid him as needed, only to find Malek's opponent stumbling back, helmet still ringing from Malek's expert blow. Their last foe froze up in surprise, and that half second was all she and Malek needed to seize the Vor, sending the third-year stumbling back with near-simultaneous strikes slamming into helmet and breastplate alike, the Squire crumpling to the ground with a groan.
Eloquin’s favored them with an unreadable gaze, nodded slowly, waited for the three fallen students to pick themselves up and shuffle to the requisite healer Jess only then noticed had made his way to the sparring arena, giving the three Squires a concerned smile as he took off their helmets and made sure there was no concussion or other serious contusion.
Once that was done, Eloquin pointed his finger at four students. His grin was more befitting a hunting cat than a teacher. “Begin!” he called out, and soon the practice grounds rang with the sound of steel. Blades flashed in the brilliant morning sun, a blizzard of snapping strikes, darting lunges, parries, and twists, the din pausing only with the crash of yet another student falling to the ground, knocked senseless.
Yet of all those who fell, two stood upright, dancing brilliantly with their blades of flashing steel. Jess gave a soft laugh, barely able to hold in her exhilaration, feeling connected to her shieldbrother like she never had before. All through the bout so far, their feet, blades, and bodies had moved in perfect in unison, as if they had mastered this deadly dance, flowing together as one.
“Do you feel it, brother?” Jess asked with a breathy whisper.
A soft chuckle was all she needed to know that it was not delusion. In perfect unison they raised their blades, pointing them at their suddenly cautious peers, waving for them to come forth, every movement the exact mirror of the others.
“Don’t get distracted by your own prowess, Jess. Focus on the battle at hand. Glory in victory only after the battle is done,” counseled Twilight, only at that moment deigning to make his presence known to her.
“Of course, kitty," Jess softly assured, before focusing the entirety of her concentration on her would-be foes once more.
Jess’s fierce grin did not waver through the rest of the melee, as their instructor steadily increased the number of their peers they were to face in tandem. Yet Jess’s confidence remained unshaken, even as she and Malek were surrounded by foes, for it was almost as if the fellow students Eloquin brought against them were lost in a dance of her and Malek’s own making, unable to help themselves from over-committing, sliding into Jess and Malek’s traps, falling as fierce thrust and snapping strike felled them, hypnotized by the unstoppable rhythm of their blades.
Every thrust their opponents launched Jess expertly parried and dodged, each increasingly frantic swing Malek skillfully displaced and countered. Every strike was exactly what was expected as Jess would snap her blade around for a lightning parry, even as Malek lashed out with a perfectly timed counter-strike, their foe stunned and collapsing to the ground even as Malek and Jess spun away from their approaching fellows rushing forward, attempting to overwhelm them, yet in truth they did no more than dance to the tune Jess and Malek had set for them.
And still, with increasing tempo, Eloquin ruthlessly ordered more and more of their peers to face them on the field of battle. Jess and her shield brother blazed on, lost in their own rhythm, immune to fatigue or uncertainty. They fought as one. Always expertly flanking their foes, moving with an uncanny speed even as they never seemed to tire, ruthlessly picking off every student whose feet led him ahead of his peers. A trail of fallen, moaning students marked their deadly dance as Jess and Malek led their fellows on a merry chase until at last, there were none save a single student who raised his sword in a mock salute, all three of them taking advantage of the momentary pause as the fight neared its natural conclusion.
“You two are something else.” Neal admitted with a wry chuckle. “Truly, I was grateful to have you two by my side when those shadowy bastards were attacking us in dream, and I shall regret like hell not having you two lead our vanguard when we face those knights at tournament!”
Speechless, lost in her battle frenzy, Jess was able to acknowledge Neal's words only with a nod, blade ready for what must come.
“We'll miss not being able to pound them to dust by your side," Malek admitted before beckoning Neal onward. "Come, brother-in-arms. You know what must be done."
Neal laughed softly. “Indeed I do, brother and sister of the blade. Make your blows count!" With that he gave a roar and a charge,
and although he was considered nearly as good a bladesman and tactician as Jess and Malek, in their present state, he was no match. He blinked in surprise when his own feint and strike were almost offhandedly countered even as he strove to slide his blade past Jess's defenses, only to find his own sword expertly bound near her hilt. He hissed his displeasure knowing his fate even as Jess's blade arced around his own with sufficient force to rap his helm like a bell, Malek's blade simultaneously slamming into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Moving as one, Jess and Malek offered their hands to a wheezing Neal. A soft cough and chuckle and he allowed each of them to grab a hand and hoist him to his feet. He took off his helmet then, alongside Malek and Jess, Neal's sandy hair blowing freely in the morning breeze, even as his eyes shone with a fierce pride. "Let's hand it to our brother and sister in arms! Best damn swordsmen of Highrock, and so potent a pair that the Knight Aspirants refuse even to face them! Three cheers for our brethren!"
And at that moment, the balcony overlooking the training ground erupted into cheering and hoots of triumph. It had been a brilliant show and their audience had been enthralled. Jess had no doubt more than a few would soon be filling Eloquin’s ranks, eager to learn and master the art of the longsword, his most basic class and open to all. She wondered how many would actually have the discipline and dedication to last more than two weeks under his tutelage.
At last aware of their fatigue, laughing at the madness and exhilaration of all, Jess and Malek slid to the ground, panting like bellows, resting even then back to back, swords close at hand. Neal gave them both a congratulatory clap on their shoulders before stumbling off to help his fellow students, some still panting upon the training ground. None, thankfully, appeared more than bruised or winded.
Looking towards the balcony now considerably farther away, Jess still thought she could make out the looks of awe and approval their friends were flashing their way, but she could not be sure. Serie, though, she couldn’t make out at all. Traitorous thought that it was, Jess couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold her hand, to gaze into her warm brown eyes and invite her to the winter dance. It was an absurd thought, and she shook it free of her exhausted skull at once.
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