The Chosen - Rise of Cithria Part 1

by Kris Kramer

  Chapter 9

  The wide stone corridor rumbled underfoot, causing a trickle of small rocks from the ceiling in some places, a burst of cloudy dust in others. Ancient walls displayed what were once expertly crafted symbols from floor to ceiling. The worn markings had cracked and split over the years, the meanings now indecipherable to all but the most dedicated archeologists. In these dark days, most travelers at these depths underground paid the carvings little heed.

  A young woman sat on what she discerned to be a useful pile of rubble: the remains of a fallen statue older than her ancestors. Her recently acquired armor still felt weighty and ungainly on her slight frame. A bright sword hung sheathed on her belt and a wooden shield lay at her feet as she rested her weary head against the artfully engraved wall.

  Eilidh closed her eyes and tried to relax her shoulders, overly tense from supporting the heft of her new protective wear. The scale hauberk had only a few scratches and dents from the previous owner, but the chest piece was far from appealing to the eye. Her companion had given it to her the previous week, gleeful to provide such a fancy gift to his beloved.

  She had smiled and accepted the token graciously, as well as any upstanding lady, at least one in the first couple of months of a courtship. Inwardly she still balked at the grotesque display of a raging bull’s head etched in crude relief in the center of the hauberk. Where Ruaidhri had salvaged such a hideous thing, Eilidh couldn’t guess.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” her mother had said, glad to finally have her daughter out of the family’s small cottage in Bristaen. Eilidh had thought the old woman had only meant the ugly armor, but perhaps not.

  Behind her resting head, the sound of Ruaidhri’s mace resonated along the wall. A cry of delight indicated another conquest. Eilidh loved this young soldier that she’d met only months ago. They were destined for each other: the unstoppable warrior and his lovely companion. She smiled and stood up stiffly, anxious to see the result of Ruaidhri’s latest battle.

  A look at her chest reminded her of just how bulky and unattractive her armor was, but functionally it was far superior to the leather jerkin it replaced. Her father had told her not to worry about the armor sagging on her slight frame; he’d promised if she filled out anything like her mother, finding any clothing too large would be a difficult task. A matriarchal slap to the back of the head had promptly silenced him and elicited raucous laughter from her older brothers.

  Her brothers still hadn’t met Ruaidhri, mostly because they spent so much time out on patrol, but they were not too happy that she spent her time with a man who seemed to spend too little time in active duty. In fact, the last time she’d seen her brothers, the conversation hadn’t ended well.

  “He’s teaching me how to fight. That’s something neither of you ever took the time to do,” she’d retorted angrily before stomping off outside. Spending time in nature always soothed her soul.

  Unfortunately, she’d spent much of her time recently in the damp caverns under Teekwood, the immense forest that covered most of northeast Andua and formed part of the natural border with Caldera. She’d absorbed Ghrian’s light all the way to the caverns, but now the glow had started to wane, slowly affecting her usually spritely demeanor. But she was with the love of her life, and that mattered most.

  They’d traveled together from her small village, Bristaen, up through the outer edges of the immense forest. In the midst of endless trees, Ruaidhri had led her into a great clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a large rock formation, and around the rocks extended a man-made fortification. The few guards present had ushered them through without so much as a second glance, obviously recognizing her companion as a valiant Anduain soldier. That wasn’t hard to do considering he wore full military dress: a dark blue tunic displaying the silver tree of Andua, and matching blue helmet, cloak, and shield. And under it all lay tightly linked chainmail, which protected most of his body, arms, and legs from slashing weapons. Ruaidhri insisted he practice his martial skills in the same attire he’d wear in combat with the enemy.

  Despite the tensions surrounding the recent truces with both Caldera and Bergmark, the guards had slouched at their posts and paid little heed to the forest surrounding them. Ruaidhri had muttered something under his breath as he led Eilidh past the sentries, but she’d been too preoccupied with their destination to catch it. A small tunnel cut into the rock fortification had led them down into Teekwood Caverns, where Ruaidhri promised Eilidh would learn to fight. His own example set the bar rather high.

  The dismembered carcasses of two cave spiders the size of wolfhounds lay sprawled on the tunnel floor. Ruaidhri stood over them, grinning like a small boy through streams of sweat emanating from under his shiny helmet. Eilidh’s heart leapt at the sight of him. He was so amazing. What a strong man! Not one, but two spiders at once! She couldn’t dream of achieving that level of valor.

  “It’s your turn again, sweetheart,” he called to her.

  Eilidh didn’t know what she would do without his constant encouragement. She certainly didn’t get such edification from her family, so she would probably be a mere housewife instead of a soldier-in-training if not for Ruaidhri. Having said that, the idea of staying at home and taking care of this man did sound nice.

  She quickly dismissed that notion. The housewife of such an active warrior would never rest easy. No, it was far better to train in order to march against the Bergsbor and Calderans by his side.

  “Okay,” she replied cautiously as she unsheathed her cheap blade. She’d stolen it from a goblin in an abandoned mine two months ago, so it was a bit short, even for her. A smith had sharpened it recently, but she could tell it was time to revisit the craftsman again for repairs.

  The tense moments before a fight always terrified Eilidh, no matter how many times Ruaidhri coached her through them. She’d defeated many monsters during her training, but she knew that her love chose targets far easier than ones he would choose for himself. He was so patient, so understanding that she couldn’t vanquish the same foes he could.

  Having Ruaidhri at her back gave Eilidh a small boost of confidence as she shuffled down the narrowing tunnel. Magical torches placed at regular intervals illuminated her path while casting eerie, flickering shadows all around. Even her own shadow bounced before her in a spastically unnatural dance.

  “Eilidh, keep your eyes up. You won’t know what’s ahead if you stare at your feet.”

  Now at full attention, Eilidh pressed on, faster now, her shield and sword feeling lighter as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She focused on the more positive aspects of combat. Ruaidhri had explained that although she was weaker than he, with time she would be able to swing her sword tirelessly, unrelentingly, fearlessly. These words echoed in her head now as she heard a cave spider growl in the gloomy shadows between two of the torch lights.

  She charged the sound, shield held just high enough that she could still see over the top, already bracing for the large spider leaping at her.

  Then she slid to a sudden halt.

  Cave spiders don’t growl.

  The enormous bear roared, charging at Eilidh from a hidden alcove in the shadowy section of the wall. The monster stood taller than any man, with shoulders more than double the width of Eilidh’s. A fearsome rack of claws appeared in the firelight, careening towards Eilidh’s head. Before she could even raise her heavy wooden shield in defense, the mighty paw rebounded off of a wall of dirt that shot up from the earth in front of her. The wall shattered, sending dark shards in all directions.

  Now staggering back to the wall, the black bear looked up in confusion at this small human who’d magically deflected his tremendous blow. Eilidh couldn’t believe it either and stood stunned, failing to capitalize on the bear’s lack of balance. Perhaps sensing her hesitation, the beast roared and rushed her again, crashing its claws against her shield, violently throwing her small form towards the tunnel w
all. She took the impact with her shoulder. A jolting pain seared across her back. Now down on one knee, she looked to the ground in horror as a terrible shadow played out the bear’s next attack.

  Stones buried in the dirt nearby instantly formed a barrier curving up over Eilidh’s head. A roar of frustration filled the tunnel as the earthen shield absorbed the latest onslaught with a crash. As the broken rocks rattled off the wall behind her, a sudden weariness overtook Eilidh. The realization that this fight was far more difficult than any she’d ever encountered started to sink in. Why didn’t Ruaidhri help her?

  Obviously he knew that she could win alone.

  With a burst of strength from her legs, Eilidh leapt at the recoiling brown mass and slammed her shield into its exposed gut. The large beast banged against the opposite tunnel wall in a daze. Eilidh rushed forward, blade drawn back. Her foe’s eyesight steadied in time to see her nicked sword drive solidly into its throat, pinning the thick neck against the wall.

  The gush of blood spewed out in a red stream above Eilidh’s head, leaving a splatter on her lowered helmet; it had sunk forward on her forehead during her final thrust. The pair stood frozen in time. The wheezing creature’s life drained slowly from its ruptured neck as Eilidh held the sword in place, staring at the ground, not wanting to see the damage.

  “Finish it quickly, Eilidh,” said the voice of reason beside her.

  Knowing the meaning of the words, Eilidh twisted the sword in the beast’s throat and yanked it free, stepping aside to avoid the teetering bear. It collapsed in the middle of the tunnel, facedown, blood pooling around its head.

  Eilidh also collapsed, falling onto her backside clumsily. Shield and sword dropped to the stone floor. Her head hung low, her whole body momentarily exhausted. At these depths she seemed to recover from strenuous physical activity far slower than out in the forests near her home, but she could already feel her strength slowly returning.

  Ruaidhri’s hand rested on her shoulder as he crouched next to her.

  “That’s the way we kill, my love. They shouldn’t suffer more than necessary. This is their home, and they will defend it against us.”

  Eilidh nodded and then looked to her companion. “I couldn’t have done that without you, Ruaidhri.”

  He smiled broadly and stood up. “I think you did great on your own. Looked like you learned a new trick, too,” he said. “How did you do that, anyway?”

  “Do what?”

  “Create that shield out of the dirt. That was amazing.”

  Eilidh accepted his outstretched hand and let him lift her to her feet. “I’m not sure I did anything. It just happened.”

  “Have you always been able to manipulate earth like that?”

  “No, I really don’t know what happened,” Eilidh insisted.

  Ruaidhri winked. “It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to share your secret with me, but it’s not like you’re practicing fire magic; no one’s going to come drag you away.”

  “There’s no secret, Ruaidhri. I really don’t know how it happened.”

  His smile faltered just a touch. “You can build walls out of dirt, you can heal wounds,” he said. “Have you ever thought that you might be better suited for the druids?”

  She punched him in the arm, stinging her fingers inside her gauntlet. “How can you say that? I’d have to leave you.”

  “Maybe—”

  “Maybe nothing. I’m not going to Arbreldin, Ruaidhri. The Tree doesn’t call to me. I came here with you for a reason. I want a blue cloak, not silver.”

  Ruaidhri drew her close and engaged her as intimately as their armor allowed.

  “Whether the Tree of Rebirth calls to you or not, its power is in you,” he said gently.

  Eilidh avoided his deep, bright eyes.

  “I want to fight, and not be some druid sequestered away to pray to Ghrian and her Tree all day.” She rested her head against his chest. “I’m just not cut out for that life.”

  Ruaidhri lifted her bloodied helmet and tossed it aside. His hand caressed her wavy red hair softly.

  “Not all druids live under the Mountain, Eilidh,” he said, referring to the mountain covering the giant Tree of Rebirth. “Many train in Arbreldin and then join the fight against Caldera and Bergmark.”

  Eilidh looked up at his face.

  “That makes sense, I suppose.” She gently stroked a deep scar in Ruaidhri’s cheek. “Soldiers need someone to take care of them.”

  He laughed, but it echoed into silence as the two continued to hold each other.

  “I must tell you, sweetheart. That was brilliant. Killing a huge bear so early in your training is no small feat. You have the spirit of a soldier in you.”

  Eilidh pushed back smiling. “Not yet, I don’t.”

  Ruaidhri blushed, as any chivalrous soldier should.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, my love,” Eilidh said, reinstating their embrace.

  Her fighting partner withdrew from her. Eilidh cursed herself inwardly for being so forward. Ruaidhri wasn’t some promiscuous Thorn; he was a soldier of Andua. They held themselves to a much higher standard than she’d just implied. Now it was her turn to blush.

  “Let’s continue the training, Eilidh,” Ruaidhri said, moving down the passageway.

  Eilidh absently gathered her simple, dome-shaped helmet off the ground and then stood, still as a statue, mortally embarrassed by her mistake, so consumed with her own thoughts that she didn’t pay heed to the increasing rumble under her feet and in the walls around her. The first of the ceiling bricks had started their descent to the floor when Eilidh snapped out of her trance, just in time to see Ruaidhri turning back to her, a look of concern spreading rapidly across his face.

  The trickle of falling rocks grew into a torrent before either of them had taken more than two steps towards the other. The ground rocked violently enough to throw Eilidh from one wall to the other, never allowing her to regain her balance. She crashed to the floor and tried in vain to get back up as the stones filled the shrinking void before her. The earthen cascade roared, deafening Eilidh and scattering her thoughts like leaves before a gale.

  As the floor settled, Eilidh surged to her feet and, to her dismay, observed a solid rock wall where a clear view of her love had just been.

  She thrust both hands onto the large stones and cried, “Ruaidhri!”

  No response.

  Eilidh looked around feverishly, panic rising, a grim realization setting in.

  She didn’t know the way out.