by Peter Last
A ladder rose through the massive hole in the castle roof, breaking Jothnial's trance. He gripped his sword tightly in his fist and waited for the soldiers to climb. There were a lot of them, but at least they were only human. He could fight against those kinds of odds. The first soldier stuck his head up through the destroyed roof and looked straight at Jothnial. The elf stared back and let his sword's tip rest on the toe of his boot. His smile was genuine and there was a devious glint in his eye. A black dragon with gold tracing through his scales dropped out of the night and slammed onto the ladder's top. Jothnial rushed over to him and jumped into the saddle on his back.
With a roar, Ebenezer took off in a rush of wind and flew away from the tower as fast as he could. For a minute it looked like they might make a clean getaway. The tower was fading quickly into the distance and the night would provide Jothnial and his dragon with cover once they were away. Then, just when it seemed that everything would work out, a bellow reverberated across the plain. Jothnial looked back to see a dark shape rise to block the moon. Silhouetted as it was, it was easy to make out the shape of the dragon and the man riding on it.
Ebenezer pumped his wings faster, but the following dragon still gained on him. Jothnial stretched out his hand and pointed at the dragon, but his magic only bounced harmlessly off of a translucent shield that was surrounding the beast. Grimacing, Jothnial increased his attack and felt the shield slowly begin to give way under the barrage. Another force fought back, replenishing the shield’s power. Jothnial continued to attack, but his strength was leaving him.
“Please help me, God," he screamed just before he passed out. "I can’t hold out!”
******
“That can’t be good.”
Four figures sat in the shadow of a large cluster of rocks as they looked across the marsh at the castle that Jothnial had entered only an hour before. At first glance, they all appeared to be humans. The truth was that they were all humanoid; however, only one of them was actually a human. Two elves were on the west side of the boulder, distinguishable from the human only by their lack of facial hair. On the east side of the boulder was an orc, who also could easily be mistaken for a human. Thick hair on his arms and face was the only telltale sign that he was an orc. The four figures carefully studied the castle on the far side of the marsh. Nothing had happened since Jothnial had left; however, there was now a disturbance on the top of the tallest turret of the castle. One of the elves whispered a word, and the entire group could immediately see the turret as though it were only a few yards away. Planks of wood and other debris flew into the air, and on top of the tower’s roof stood Jothnial.
“How come it seems like this always happens when we send him in?” one of the elves asked with a sigh.
“It doesn’t happen every time, Commander,” the human responded. “Remember that time last spring when we were infiltrating the stronghold in Gludog? He came off brilliantly that time, except that he got wounded.”
A group of dragons stood behind the observers, and one of them leaped into the air, shot over the men’s heads, and flew silently toward the castle in the distance. The men’s vision normalized, and they looked up to see which dragon had left.
“Looks like Jothnial called for his dragon,” the commander commented. “By the way, if you will recall, at Gludog we were not supposed to be seen at all. The mission completion was negated by the fact that we were discovered.”
“It wasn’t his fault, Commander. You saw that with your own eyes. He did everything by the book, but he was still seen.”
“That one wasn’t his fault, but what about the time before that? It should have been a simple snatch-and-grab, but he screwed it up. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t even be here in this situation.”
“That was his second mission, so he was anxious to please and made some stupid mistakes. He did mess up on that mission, but he pulled off his first one without a single flaw.”
“Yes, I remember that,” the commander grumbled. “As I recall, that was the mission after which I accepted him into our squad. Now I almost wish that I hadn’t.”
“Now, Commander, you don’t really mean that,” the orc spoke up. “You know that he just…”
“Enemy magic in the area!” the human hissed. Then, after a moment, “There's a magical shield surrounding the dragon following Ebenezer. Who knows how much magic Jothnial's used in the last hour. We can't count on him to be able to take the dragon down."
“Then help him!” ordered the commander. “Jared and Scrogg, you attack the shield directly. Wellter and I will try to attack the magician that's sustaining it. With any luck, we’ll be able to take it down.”
“And it had better be fast,” the human shouted. “Jothnial just passed out.”
The four magicians became silent as they each concentrated on their tasks. Jared and Scrogg attacked the shield, but with no success. The magician behind it was very powerful. The commander and Wellter both sent out tendrils to determine the size and strength of the shield and found that it was small, surrounding only the dragon it was protecting. The commander knew that as a rule smaller shields were easier to sustain and consequently harder to attack. With the size of this particular one and the strength of the magician sustaining it, there was little chance of successfully attacking it directly.
“We have to get closer to that thing,” the commander hissed to Wellter while tucking his pendant under his breastplate. “We’re too far away to do any permanent damage. We need to set up a shield to protect Jothnial until we reach him.”
The two magicians leaped onto their dragons and headed in the direction of Jothnial and Ebenezer. Together, they quickly produced a makeshift shield just in time to catch a blast of fire from the pursuing dragon. The fireball bounced harmlessly off of their shield and flew back at the dragon that had spewed it. It slapped against the enemy shield and was deflected downward to the ground below.
“Did you see that, Commander?” Wellter called. “That shield protects against both magic and physical threats.”
“And the magician's sitting beneath it on that dragon's back,” the commander called. “You sustain our shield, and I will take care of this man.”
Without waiting for an answer, the commander directed his dragon to maneuver to a position directly above the enemy dragon. He crouched on his saddle and looked down into the eyes of the magician. Without another thought, he leaped from his saddle and, as he plunged toward his adversary, drew a silver knife from his belt and held it blade first below his body. As the silver passed through the shield, the magic barrier disappeared with a small explosion and a mass of fireworks. The commander hit the dragon hard, knocking the breath out of his lungs and jarring the knife from his grip. He recovered quickly, but even as he looked up, his opponent slashed at him with a knife. The commander jerked away from the wild move, but the blade slashed across his cheek, leaving a streak of blood. He clawed his way into a more maneuverable position and crouched to face the next attack. The magician again slashed with the knife, but the commander shot out a hand and grabbed the hilt of the weapon. With a sharp wrench, he twisted the magician’s hand around and slammed the weapon into his stomach. He let go of the magician and watched him slip off the dragon then turned to face the head of the dragon. He composed a small spell, cast it at the dragon’s head, and leaped from the back of the beast. As he reached the apex of his jump, he felt the claw of his dragon settle around his body, and he knew that he was safe. Below him, the enemy dragon plummeted toward the ground and landed with a large splash in the marsh below. The commander looked over at Jothnial and extended a tendril of magic toward him. His vital signs were strong, so the commander settled back for the journey to headquarters.
One
Senndra used the shock from the blow to spin in a tight circle on her heels. As she finished the move, she ducked under the inevitable slash aimed at her upper torso. Jumping into a standing position, she parried a blow aimed at her legs and returned a slash
at her opponent’s head. Her attacker struck her blade near the hilt, partially jarring it from her grasp. She managed to hold onto the weapon, and her opponent lost no time in pressing his advantage. He swung at Senndra’s head, and she wasn’t able to get her sword up in time. Instead, she dove under the blade and rolled past him. She rolled onto her knees and spun around, swinging her sword at her opponent’s knees. He easily jumped over the poorly-aimed swipe and brought his sword down at Senndra’s head. Senndra used her sword to deflect the blow then brought the hilt around and slammed it into her aggressor’s stomach. He avoided most of the force of the blow by leaning backwards; however, his breath was still knocked out of him. Senndra jumped to her feet and aimed a quick slash at him. Despite the fact that her opponent was on his back and that he hadn’t even gotten his breath back, he was still able to block the blow and return one. The counter attack caught Senndra off guard, and she barely stopped the blow from smashing into her stomach. Her attacker’s blade bounced down her sword, hopped over the hilt, and slashed across her hand. Senndra could tell that the injury was only a flesh wound, but the pain was still enough to cloud her reaction. She looked down just in time to see her opponent hook his sword into her pant leg and jerk. The motion threw Senndra off balance. As she toppled, she lost her sword, and the next thing she knew, she was on her face and could feel the cold steel of a sword on her neck.
“Do you yield?” he asked.
Senndra rolled her eyes. “As if I had a choice. You beat me again.”
She rose slowly to her feet and finally raised her eyes to meet those of her opponent, Lemin, her sword fighting instructor. He had elf blood though how much no one knew for certain and it could hardly be discerned from his looks. He was about six feet tall, with short, cropped black hair and the beginning of a beard and mustache. Senndra knew that it would be gone before it got even a quarter of an inch long. As if its sole purpose was to mar his otherwise good looks, a scar of five or six inches, normally white but now red after the exertion of a sword fight, stood out on his left cheek. He held Senndra's sword out to her, and she took it and slid it into its scabbard.
“You’re dismissed to have that cut taken care of,” Lemin told Senndra. “It doesn’t appear to be more than a flesh wound, so don’t expect to get out of class tomorrow,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. “I want you here bright and early so that I can beat you again.”
“Not tomorrow, I’m afraid, sir,” Senndra answered as she wrapped her hand in a cloth that Lemin handed to her.
“What do you mean?” Lemin asked as he glanced at Senndra quizzically. “Do you have something more important to do?”
“No, sir,” Senndra answered. “Tomorrow I’m going to beat you.” She waved to the rest of the class and turned to leave.
“Whatever you say,” Lemin called after her as she started down the trail that led to the medical station. “Just be here tomorrow, and we’ll see who beats who. And remember that the swordplay competition is tonight,” he added.
Senndra grinned to herself as she broke into a jog. She really did like Lemin, though he seemed to take delight in beating his students every time he fought them in the ring. And he always did beat them, usually in under a minute. As usual, Senndra had held her own for more than three minutes, but had finally been bested by her instructor. Also as usual, she had been wounded in the fight and was dismissed early to take care of the wound.
The hospital came into sight, and Senndra slowed to a walk. The trails were deserted at this time since the academy students were in their classes and all of the instructors were teaching. As a result, there were no distractions, and Senndra loved the quiet. She could just sit for hours on end and observe nature, the plants and the animals interacting with each other. As she walked toward the hospital, her gaze strayed to the forest, down the mountain from where she was. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she could make out the shape of a deer on the outer edge of the trees. Suddenly, a red blur burst from the clouds above the forest and dove toward the deer. The deer broke into a sprint for the trees, but before it had gained safety, the dragon that was hunting the deer grabbed it in its claws and flew away.
Senndra let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and continued to stare at the place where the dragon had disappeared. Just the sight of the creatures made her heart beat faster. Everything she knew about dragons pointed to their intelligence and grace. Even the way the dragon had killed the deer had been graceful.
Senndra shook herself from her thoughts and walked the rest of the distance to the hospital. She pushed open the door with her good hand and walked through the empty waiting room to the table that served as the receptionist’s desk. The receptionist looked up from a book at the sound of the door opening and saw Senndra.
“How are you today, Senndra?” she asked as she used her finger to mark the book that she had been reading.
“Pretty good, Michal,” Senndra answered. “Just got nicked sword fighting, and Lemin sent me down here.”
“No one else is here, so you can go in,” Michal said as she reopened her book.
Senndra walked past Michal and down the hall to the back of the building. Here, one of the only doors in the building separated the doctor's personal study from the rest of the office. The study was rather large and lighted by three large windows. It was basically empty, containing only a bookcase and a desk. Behind the desk was a small, balding man.
“Hello, Senndra,” the man said as he set aside some papers. “What are you in for today?”
“Hello, Doctor Samuel,” Senndra responded. “It's just a small cut from sword fighting.”
“Don’t miss a day, do you?” Samuel said as he rose from his desk. He led Senndra out of his office, down the hall, and into an operating room.
“I was thinking about preparing the equipment before you got here, but decided against it,” Samuel said as he gathered supplies from several cabinets. “Now I’m beginning to wish I had done so.”
“Like you said, I never miss a day,” Senndra responded. She removed the cloth from her hand at Samuel’s prompting and held it out for him to examine.
“Nothing more than a flesh wound,” he said after examining the cut. “It shouldn’t slow you down at all.”
“Good,” Senndra said. She watched as Samuel first cleaned out the cut then wrapped a bandage around her hand and fastened it.
“Thanks, Doctor Samuel,” Senndra said when he finished. She left him in the room to put things away and walked back outside. The peace and quiet she had left only fifteen minutes ago had been replaced with the chatter of students as they left their classes. They followed the main path down the mountain toward the dorms, and Senndra joined them. She didn’t see anyone she knew and continued in silence. She passed the mess hall and was just in view of her dorm when an unwelcome voice sounded behind her.
“Hey Senndra, wait up.”
“What do you want, Vladimir?” asked Senndra, turning around to face him.
“Nothing,” he said as he pulled up in front of Senndra. “Just wanted to say hi.”
“Well, in that case, hi,” Senndra said, her voice tight.
“So, what are you planning on doing this afternoon?” Vladimir asked. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out.”
“I don’t think so, Vladimir,” Senndra responded curtly. “Not right now.”
“Then how about later?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” Senndra answered. She spun on her heels and marched away from him to her dorm. She didn’t look back until she reached the safety of her room. She opened the door and stepped inside and was met at once by the smiling face of her roommate, Rita. She was a pretty girl, with blond hair that hung down to her waist and blue eyes that seemed to attract every male cadet on the campus.
“What happened today?” she asked as she examined Senndra’s bandage.
“Just a scratch from sword fighting,” Senndra answered. “Nothing to worry about.”
&
nbsp; “You couldn't have at least waited until the last one healed?” Rita asked. “So, what has you so perturbed?”
“Who else…Vladimir,” Senndra responded, disgust in her voice. She unstrapped her sword from her hip and threw it onto the top bunk. “One would think he could take a hint, but every time I turn around, I’m tripping over him.”
“Vladimir isn’t nearly as bad as you make him out to be,” Rita said. She sat on the lower bunk, but kept her gaze on Senndra. “I think he’s lonely and is just trying to make a friend. I mean, you remember what that’s like, right? It was only what, two years ago that you ended up here?”
“Yeah, the same year that Daddy died,” Senndra sighed. “I was only fourteen then, and it was really scary coming here. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but thank you for being my friend.”
“All I’m saying is that you could try being a little nicer to him,” Rita said. She climbed out of the bed. “Anyway, lunch is in ten minutes, so we need to head up to the mess hall.”
Senndra rose and followed Rita out of the room.
******
Josiah grasped the javelin in his left hand and held it in front of him with the tip pointing at the ground. He eyed the target carefully and gauged its distance. This was the farthest one yet, with a distance of possibly fifty yards. That, combined with the fact that the target wasn’t much bigger than a human torso, made this a very hard throw. The sun beat down on Josiah, causing sweat to drip down into his eyes and blur his vision. With a swipe of his hand, he wiped the sweat off his face and gauged the distance to the target again. At the signal from his instructor, Josiah pulled the javelin back and prepared to throw it. He kept his eyes on the small black circle that represented the center of the target, and when the call was given, he heaved his javelin. The spear shot through the air with only a shallow arc, and Josiah held his breath as it covered the fifty yards. It hit the bottom right corner of the target with a splintering of wood.
