Forgotten Magic (Elementals Book 1)

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Forgotten Magic (Elementals Book 1) Page 4

by Vicky Garlick


  A loud howl echoed through the pouring rain as Vala embedded her sword deep in the chest of a mingual warrior. The darkness was briefly illuminated as his body was engulfed in flames, then the darkness closed in once more and Vala scanned around for her next target. A young man was backed against a tree trunk; his shield was his only weapon against two slightly shorter mingual. His sword lay inches from his feet on the soaked grass.

  Vala rushed to his aid, jumped towards one of the mingual and slammed both feet into his side knocking him to the ground and causing the other to become unbalanced. She landed hard but scrambled quickly to her feet, grabbed the fallen sword and threw it to her comrade as her foe snarled angrily. He threw himself at her and brought his sword towards her face. Vala blocked with ease. He continued to snarl at her, trying to bring himself close enough to rip her throat out. Vala swung her shield into his abdomen and he doubled over, then pulled a knife from his belt and stabbed it into her right cuisse causing the metal to crack and buckle. She yelled in surprise, stumbled back and pulled the knife from her armour before throwing it into the throat of her attacker; he gurgled, fell to his knees and was consumed by fire.

  The rain around them began to slacken to a drizzle and Vala thought the clouds didn’t look as menacing. The army pressed on, feeling as Vala did that maybe the battle was nearing its end. Vala reached a group of warriors stood back to back. A battle weathered man yelled suddenly and slumped to the ground as an axe somehow found its way through his breastplate. A woman to the side hurled her shield at the creature where it became embedded in his neck as Vala stumbled to the man. She fell to her knees by his side and he lifted his head slightly as he gasped for breath. He half smiled at Vala and opened his mouth as it to speak when a black feathered arrow found its way into his neck and ended his suffering. Vala looked up as a mingual warrior, with bronzed skin and bordering on eight feet tall swaggered towards her. He grinned. Vala pulled herself to her feet and faced him as he discarded the bow and drew a large two handed sword from his back.

  “You cannot win this,” he growled in a deep voice.

  “You’re Ziqua then,” she gasped hoarsely setting herself into a defensive stance. He continued to smile. A mass of dark coarse hair fell in front of his blood red eyes as he growled quietly and sprung forwards. Vala raised her own sword to block his attack and was thrown off balance by the sheer force. She pushed hard towards him as he continued to press down, trying to inch both weapons closer towards her. Ziqua spat in her face causing Vala to flinch but she continued to push against his weapon.

  Feeling that only she was tiring, Vala kicked hard against his legs; Ziqua didn’t seem to notice. Vala threw all of her energy into pushing his sword to the side while she jumped out of distance. Ziqua managed to claw at her flesh while she moved and she clenched her jaw while ignoring the pain that shot through her arm. Vala lunged towards him and slashed his forearm; blood sprayed from the wound, some mingling with her own and Ziqua shrieked loudly in anger.

  She swung at him again and managed to stab his thigh. He yelled again and pointed his free arm, palm outwards towards her. Vala felt herself being lifted off her feet and hurled backwards. She impacted roughly with the sodden ground, gasped as the air was knocked from her lungs and her sword fell from her grasp. Ziqua leapt towards her and brought his sword down violently on her head. The sword hit earth as she rolled to one side and tried to scramble to her feet.

  Ziqua screeched again as an arrow found his shoulder, he turned, fangs bared at the warrior who had loosed it. With lightening quick movement Ziqua had thrown the man brutally backwards with a wave of his hand. The warrior yelled in surprise and impacted roughly with the sturdy trunk of a nearby tree where he crumpled to the ground and refused to move. Using this opportunity, Vala reached quickly for her sword, pulled herself to her feet and ran at Ziqua who turned and raised his palm at her as if to throw her once more. This time instead of being thrown backwards Vala was halted mid step. She felt what seemed to be an invisible barrier between herself and the mingual leader as she tried to force herself forwards.

  Ziqua, looking perplexed sheathed his sword and raised his other hand, pushing towards her. Vala, despite pushing against the barrier felt herself being pushed backwards. She could see anger bubbling under Ziqua’s skin and he dropped his hands, drawing his sword once more. Vala, managed to grab her dagger and throw it at him as he approached where it became lodged in his collar bone. He screamed as an explosion of thunder threatened to deafen them. For a second all went quiet, then Ziqua was engulfed in a sudden whirlwind and vanished. Warriors on both sides paused momentarily and the mingual faltered as their leader was no more among them.

  Seizing their chance, the remaining warriors of Vala’s army continued the fight with renewed effort and eventually the last of their enemy fell and silence reined once more. As if sensing the battle was over the persistent drizzle ceased and a tiny strip of starry sky forced its way between the heavy grey clouds. Vala looked around as she leant on her sword, breathing heavily; many of her warriors had fallen and it would not be easy to accept.

  A young woman limped towards her and offered Vala her shoulder, which she declined.

  “I’m alright,” she panted pulling herself upright, the woman nodded and moved off towards another warrior who was clutching their side and moaning. “Find everyone who is alive,” Vala gasped to the others as she approached several bodies to see if they stirred.

  With the wounded treated, the remaining army moved slowly towards Rosas where they prayed for safety and rest. They had recited a prayer for the dead and burnt the bodies, as was the tradition, but not before removing the ring of the crown, a token given to all Baja warriors. They were inscribed with the warriors name and Vala knew it would be her task to deliver them to the families if she ever returned home.

  Bælana 1

  “How is it that you failed such a simple task?” Bælana asked as Ziqua cowered by her feet.

  “The humans were stronger than we anticipated,” he growled.

  Bælana sighed and rubbed her temple, “I created you to be stronger than them, that’s the whole point of your existence!” A large ball of fire sprang from her palm and hovered above it.

  Ziqua cowered even further, “Forgive me Empress.”

  Bælana stared at him for some time before the fireball vanished. “Do not think that sparing your life means anything,” she hissed as Ziqua breathed a sigh of relief. “Terraniem will take your place at Denward, and if he succeeds,” she smiled wickedly, “then I think you might get demoted.” Ziqua shivered and backed out of the room. Bælana paced round the small, wood panelled room, then stopped by the fire.

  “Malum! Show yourself.” There was a brief silence followed by a deep, soothing voice.

  “You called.” A man with chestnut hair emerged from the shadows.

  “I thought you told me these creatures would be stronger than the humans.”

  “They’re still young Bælana, they need time to learn how humans think.”

  “They don’t have time!”

  “Perhaps you should have waited-”

  “I’ve waited long enough!”

  Malum took a step back, “Then there’s no reason for me to stay.” He walked back into the darkness and Bælana screamed.

  Chapter 5

  Kiræ waited in line with the rest of the new recruits to receive the first weapon they would be training with. At the front Sir Nyme was handing out medium sized lightweight swords and small, round shields. Kiræ took hers with ease, feeling the weight and from occasionally holding Vala’s sword, decided this one was about a third of the weight. The last of the weapons were handed out and Sir Nyme took one himself, spinning it idly as he surveyed the learners.

  He smiled to himself, “No-one says this is easy and they’re right! You’ll need to practice, practice, and practice some more! And don’t think that because you’re here now, you’ll also be here next year.

  “Now these are
your first weapons, they aren’t quite the full weight of a warrior’s normal kit. As we progress through your training you will receive heavier weapons to see how you adjust. We will also train with a number of other weapons in case you need to improvise. Are there any questions?” He scanned the sea of faces before him and slowly a slim girl with dark brown skin and long braided chestnut coloured hair raised her arm, “yes, Tana?” Sir Nyme asked.

  The young woman paused for a long time before she eventually built up the courage to speak, “What if we can’t manage the weight?” she asked hesitantly.

  Someone from the back of the group sniggered and her cheeks flushed pink. Sir Nyme smiled uncharacteristically kindly at Tana before addressing the group sternly.

  “For those of you who can’t manage the weight of an average sword, and there be plenty of you,” he said eyeing the boys as well as the girls, “we will supply weapons to suit your needs. Any other questions?” The group of thirty remained silent. “Before I show you how to deliver attacks, I want to tell you the number one important rule when facing an opponent in battle.” The learners leaned forwards, listening eagerly. “Make sure you always get out of the way.” There were looks of puzzlement on their faces and Sir Nyme chuckled. “If you are out of range of your enemy, there is less chance that they can hurt you!

  “Right, weapons down for the moment,” the learners obeyed but they did so slowly and with confusion on their faces. “Don’t worry you’ll have plenty of time with them later. First you’re going to warm up, I want ten laps of the training ground, fifty press-ups and then you can break into small groups and try to tap each other’s shoulders. The aim is to practice getting out of distance, anyone who gets tagged has the choice of a lap round the training ground or ten press-ups. Go!” The group scurried into action, stumbling over one another as they incorrectly assumed the first two tasks were a competition. By the end many of them were exhausted, not being used to the kind of physical exercise Sir Nyme was making them do. As he started the next part of the session the majority of the learners were already sweating and breathing heavily.

  “Now, this is your enemy.” He explained, pointing to five rows of dummies constructed from severely worn fabric and filled with straw. “Of course the real thing won’t be quite so submissive,” he added with a chuckle. “I’ll show you how to produce the first moves correctly, then it will be your turn.”

  Sir Nyme held his sword in both hands, point upwards and leaning slightly towards his shoulder, while he stood squarely facing one of the dummies. “Don’t worry yet about using your shield, we’ll get to that later,” he said glancing round the group. He turned back to face the dummy, his right foot behind the left and his legs slightly bent. He stepped forwards as he swung the weapon in a downward motion, striking the dummy between the head and shoulder.

  As he did so the clouds Kiræ had seen earlier began to let large drops of rain fall to the ground; many of the learners groaned. “Never mind the rain,” Sir Nyme called happily as if he had been hoping this would happen, “it won’t stop a battle so it won’t stop us now!” He showed them several more moves, demonstrating exactly how to place their feet and strike the body, then instructed them to practice. The rain grew heavier as the learners took up their positions and attempted the moves themselves. Sir Nyme walked round the group to observe their progress, tending to shout corrections across the training ground rather than quietly to the individual.

  Kiræ stepped forward and struck her dummy lightly trying to get her footing and the position right before she perfected the force of her blow.

  “Kiræ, what are you doing? Put more force behind the blow, you won’t kill anyone with a hit like that!” Kiræ cursed under her breath and put her weight into her next attempt. It struck the dummy with such force that the already heavily frayed fabric split and the inner straw padding poked through.

  Sir Nyme raised an eyebrow in surprise, “That’s more like it Kiræ, let’s just hope it wasn’t an accident!” He moved on to the next student and Kiræ sighed before attempting the move again.

  Sir Nyme continued walking round as the rain hammered down and paused every now and then to see how the learners were coping with the moves. As he approached a well-built, tall boy he noticed another next to him with an equally powerful blow to Kiræ’s, he looked down his list and found the boy’s name.

  “Ah, Tom, that was a fairly good strike, try and position the sword at more of an angle when you strike the neck and you’ll soon have it.” He turned back to the young man in front of him and frowned, “Joklen, this is not a ball! Stop dancing round the dummy and hit it!” Joklen finally struck the dummy and managed to catch some loose fabric with his sword causing him to lose balance and stumble. Sir Nyme sighed and moved on, continuing his observations for the remainder of the morning.

  By the midday bell they were bedraggled, sweating and breathless. Kiræ was glad to get into some dry clothes before eating. Wearing a clean uniform she walked down to the Great Hall and quickly found Aurora.

  “This morning’s practice was tough.”

  “I know I’m exhausted,” Aurora replied sighing, “I don’t know how I’m going to cope with a heavier weapon.”

  “Hopefully we’ll build up to it slowly, this was the first day after all, I’m sure it will get easier.” Kiræ said reassuring her friend and silently praying she was right.

  The rain had ceased as the learners headed out towards the stables after their meal. The sky was still thick with clouds but several weak rays of sunlight were forcing their way through. Kiræ’s boots squelched in the mud as she walked with Aurora into a large wooden building containing a variety of horses. They separated and began to look carefully at what would be their future companion. Kiræ must have looked confused as a young man, about her own age, walked towards where she was examining a skewbald mare. He was tall and well built, with short, dark brown scruffy hair and deep green eyes; he had a sly smile on his face.

  “Can I help you?” she asked somewhat defensive.

  “No,” he replied still smiling, “but I can help you.”

  Kiræ drew herself up to her full unimpressive height, “I don’t need any help, I’ve chosen this one.” She pointed at the skewbald mare.

  The stranger looked from her, to the horse, then back again. “Yeah, I reckon you can probably cope with her,” he said smiling again.

  Kiræ continued to look irritated, “Of course I can!” she replied indignantly causing the stranger to grin mischievously.

  “Actually I was talking to the horse,” he said inclining his head to the mare; Kiræ felt her cheeks go hot. “Her name is Senna,” the stranger continued, “she’s got a good nature and doesn’t spook easily.”

  “Are you a stable hand?”

  “No, I’m training, in my second year,” he replied as he looked over at several other confused learners. “This is just punishment for arriving late to training so many times last year.”

  Kiræ winced, “I’ll make sure I don’t follow your lead then.”

  The stranger laughed, “My name is Gary.” He handed her the mare’s rope as well as a large amount of tack and grooming tools, which caused her to sway unsteadily.

  “Maybe you can tell me everything you did wrong, you know, so I can stay on Sir Nyme’s good side.” They laughed as Kiræ continued to sway under the weight of the equipment.

  “I don’t think there are enough hours in the day!” he replied, looking again at the remaining learners. “I’d better go and help some others or Sir Nyme will have my head!”

  “Thanks for your help,” Kiræ called, dropping half of the grooming equipment as he walked away from her. She scolded her clumsiness and scampered to pick everything up while trying to stop Senna from wandering off.

  As the learners stood beside their tethered mounts, Sir Nyme talked them through the various pieces of equipment.

  “The first thing you’re going to learn is how to groom, for if you cannot properly look after your ho
rse, then how do you expect them to look after you.” He picked up a large thick bristled brush and continued, “this here is a hard brush, which we use to remove dirt from the coat. Use it in small circular motions like this.” He demonstrated for them on his own magnificent black stallion, then gestured to them. He threw the brush down as they all tentatively picked theirs up. About half of them, including the twins, had some experience with horses and knew a little of what do to, while others struggled from the start.

  “Nalim be careful! You’re pressing too hard, dried in dirt comes loose easily so ease up.” Nalim cringed as Sir Nyme turned away and walked past Kiræ where he once again raised his eyebrow. They continued through the grooming tools, using a soft bristled brush, a comb for the mane and tail and finally a pick for the hooves. The final tool proved the most difficult for the learners to use.

  “Try it as I showed you, firstly stand beside your mount facing the tail, that’s right, then run your hand down the front of the leg until they willingly lift up the hoof and use the pick to scrape away the dirt and stones.” He walked round again as the majority of the group struggled to lift the hooves or maintain their grip. He stopped next to a tall boy with untidy chestnut hair, who was desperately trying to pull the leg away from the ground and stifled a laugh.

  “Keolan, please. Do not force her to lift her feet! Just use more pressure as you run your hand down her leg. There you go, that’s how you do it.” Keolan grinned at his success until his mare grew impatient, stamped her foot down and knocked into him. He yelled in surprise as he fell causing many of the others to snigger, but grinned again as he pulled himself to his feet. Sir Nyme shook his head and meandered along to the next learner.

 

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