The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian

by Ben Hale

  With his heart soaring at the prospect of her companionship, Taryn rose to his feet and pulled her up to face him. “I would love to—I mean . . . it would be nice . . . to have some company.” He knew how he sounded, and felt a wave of relief when she laughed it off.

  “Just promise me that you will stay my friend, no matter what you see on the other end.” Her wide grin didn’t match the serious glint in her eyes, causing him to wonder again what she was afraid of.

  “Always,” he managed to say.

  The impish smile returned in an instant. “You have to finish first—and I don’t know if your teachers will pass you. You were always the lazy sort . . .”

  “Speak for yourself,” he said, unable to stop his smile enough to feign a wounded expression. “As I recall, it was you who didn’t like to get out of bed for the morning run.”

  Her pealing laughter lifted his heart even more, and his grin widened as they began to walk towards shore. They both knew his words to be true, and the memory of her grumbling every morning caused him to join in her mirth.

  By the time they reached the end of the dock and stepped onto the beach, Liri’s laugh had reduced to a chuckle.

  “Let’s go warm up together,” she suggested.

  He nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for her friendship. Falling into step with her shorter gait, he paused only to glance back at the great ship in the harbor.

  A surge of confidence washed over him as he realized that as long as he performed well, his journey would begin the following day. He had only to demonstrate the skills he’d honed for his entire life.

  It was time to be tested.

  Chapter 2: The Acabi

  Taryn and Liri arrived at the amphitheatre together and began working their way past several students and masters on their way to the bottom. Shaped like a crescent-moon, the natural depression sloped downward and faced a sheer stone wall over twenty feet high. Over the next hour, spectators would continue to trickle in and find seats on stone benches. With each row constructed in descending half circles, there were few locations that did not afford an excellent view.

  Between the first row and the rock face, the ground had been cleared, leaving a wide half circle of flat ground. Centuries of battles and ceremonies had pounded the dirt to a rock hard surface. At the moment, four other students were in the bottom of the bowl sparring. Joining them, Taryn and Liri found a section of open ground and unsheathed their weapons. Taryn drew only one sword before facing her.

  “Don’t worry, I will go easy on you,” Liri said with a smirk, the last word barely reaching his ears before she moved in with a quick right slash.

  They hadn’t really practiced together in a few years—not since he’d stopped learning the bow and moved on to the katsana, but he had to admit she had gotten a LOT better. He parried—but instantly had to twist to avoid her reverse. Taking a quick step backward he swept his sword across to block her next strike—and shifted his feet to attack. She smoothly sidestepped his quick upward thrust—then leapt in with a flurry of lightning fast moves.

  In moments, their simple warm-up accelerated into a fierce competition. It was clear to Taryn that his counterpart wanted to prove herself, so he resisted the impulse to reveal his own skill. Wanting to really see how much she had learned, he took her through several complicated routines—which she followed surprisingly fast and without any hesitation. Every sweep of her blade was as quick as thought as she danced back and forth through everything Taryn threw at her. This continued for several minutes until Taryn saw out of the corner of his eye that the benches were almost full.

  Suddenly very aware of the eyes on him, Taryn nearly missed a block, so he took the next opportunity available. Seeing her shift of feet for another thrust, he waited until the last second and darted towards her while her sword extended past him . . . inches from his right side. Without stopping he rolled down her blade and behind her.

  Before she could turn to face him, he sheathed his sword and wrapped his left arm around her waist—trapping her body against his. At the same moment, his right hand reached down her swinging sword arm and grabbed her wrist. Before she could react, he pressed onto her wrist, forcing her to drop her weapon.

  “Sorry, I guess I got lucky,” he whispered into her ear.

  “No,” she exclaimed breathlessly, turning her head to look at him, “you were always amazing with a sword—and a bow.”

  In that moment Taryn became conscious of her tight form pressed against his and the smell of her soft hair in front of his face. He heard her breath catch as she too recognized the intimacy of their position and abruptly they stepped apart. Taryn swallowed hard against the surge of emotions while Liri stooped to pick up her sword and slid it into its scabbard. By the time she had turned to face him, her easy smile had returned.

  “You’ll do great today, Taryn, but don’t forget I went easy on you,” she said.

  “I know, I appreciate that,” he laughed lightly, still conscious of the many eyes on them. “Thanks for building up my confidence.”

  Before their conversation could continue, a wizened elf named Daiki, dressed in a ceremonial robe, stepped out from the audience and walked up steps carved into the stone face. Standing on top of the rock, he called for attention. Taryn and Liri joined the other students of the Acabi on the far left bench reserved for them.

  The speaker waited a few minutes until everyone had a chance to sit down and the buzz from the audience had diminished. Several hundred had arrived for the event, with groups of people still drifting in. Acabi ceremonies were almost always filled to capacity with late arrivals standing at the back. Today would be no exception.

  Once everyone was quiet, Daiki began, “Welcome masters and students to another Acabi. For centuries we have had students demonstrate what they have learned by engaging in combat with the very people that trained them. As you know, victory will prove your mastery of skills and your training is considered complete.” He smiled as murmuring and scattered chuckles came from the audience. It had been over ten years since a student had defeated a master. “If you are defeated, your teacher or teachers will decide together if you have shown proficiency. If you have, then your training is finished. If you have not, then you will continue for another year, at which time you will be eligible for another Acabi.”

  “Today we have five students that are at the age of testing. Each one is unique in their sphere of study, and it will be an honor to observe their skill and training put into practice. First, we will have the privilege of seeing Maemi. She is from Azertorn, the capital of the elves, and has been studying the elven short sword. By special consideration she is being allowed to test five years early due to her level of mastery.” He had to pause as a murmur swept the crowd.

  Testing early was very rare and a great honor. Taryn caught her eye and smiled in encouragement. Mae, as her friends called her, had trained in the same village as he had—and had been like a sister to him for as far back as he could remember. Taciturn and serious, she had few friends, so he counted himself lucky to be one of them. She nodded back at him before standing in acknowledgement of the introduction. After she had taken her seat, Daiki continued, “Following her will be Trin, who comes from the eastern kingdom of humans and has learned the longsword. After that we will see—,”

  Murai suddenly caught Taryn’s attention from across the arena. Following traditional, he was seated in the front row on the opposite side with the other teachers that would be testing their students. At the moment he was making a face that had the master next to him struggling to stifle a laugh. Taryn smiled to himself. Of all the people he had come to know on the island, he would miss his uncle the most. Hearing his own name, he turned back to listen.

  “—and last of all we will see Taryn,” Daiki was saying. “As some of you know, he has trained with four different masters.” He had to raise his hand to forestall the slight upswing in noise. "I know it is uncommon for a student to learn four disciplines—but notwiths
tanding, he has reached a level of mastery in the longbow, the katsana, dual-weapon fighting, and hand-to-hand combat. Today he will be fighting with two katsanas—”

  Loud talk engulfed the audience, making it impossible to hear. Despite that, Taryn still managed to hear Suoh and his friends yelling down to him and laughing. Heat blossomed to his face and neck, and he clenched his jaw against his rising frustration. Since the confrontation with them, he’d done everything he could to not tell others about his unique training. Now he would have to endure their mocking even more . . . unless he passed.

  Raising both hands to quiet the crowd, Daiki raised his voice to regain their attention. “It is true that there is no master that teaches a style of fighting with two katsanas—and for good reason. As you know, the katsana is heavy, and normally a two-handed sword. It’s also long, which makes fighting with two at the same time all but impossible. I have been told that Irela, who has trained him in fighting with two weapons, has helped Taryn create his own style of fighting with the two swords—a great accomplishment which we will have the privilege of seeing first hand.” Overriding another swell of noise, he called, “So let us begin. Maemi, if you please.” He gestured for her to come to the center of the arena and descended the stairs to meet her.

  Mae stood up slowly and walked to meet her master. Barely topping five feet, she was the shortest elf Taryn had ever met. Despite that, she was as fast as a snake strike—and just as deadly. Her slender figure moved gracefully—more like a dancer than a fighter. Whenever he’d seen her fight, her body appeared built for unequaled speed. Her soft, delicate features were most often cast in a somber expression, lighting with amusement on rare occasions. Preferring to train hard, she had few close friends, and even with them she didn’t say much. When she did choose to speak it was insightful—and one benefited by listening.

  The noise in the crowd dropped as Mae and her master Sani drew their swords and bowed to each other. Daiki, one of the few resident magi, drew some white powder from a pouch and dusted their swords while he muttered some incoherent words. As the powder touched the blades, the dust melted and, of its own accord, coated the sharp edges. When Daiki was finished, he slid his hand down the now dull side to make sure there were no sharp spots. The charm helped, but it didn’t completely prevent injuries. Bruises were common and the occasional broken bone was not unheard of—especially if the fight lasted for a while. The spell didn’t last forever and would dissipate soon after the match.

  Daiki bowed to both of them and returned to his seat. Sani paused for a moment before leaping in, her thin short sword flashing in the sunlight. Mae was just as fast, parrying easily and circling for an opening. Taryn saw the subtle shift of weight in her feet and knew what was coming. Faster than he could blink Mae stepped in with a combination that was so fast her weapon became a blur. Sani struggled to block as each successive thrust or slash came at her in a cascade of feints and strikes.

  Sani was excellent, but it was clear that Maemi was faster than her teacher. Each movement of her sword demonstrated precision and speed, like an extension of her own body. Despite Sani being outmatched by her student, she had a smile on her face as she retreated and dodged the attacks. Mae moved in like lightning, subtly beginning to attack from the right with each consecutive technique. Driving her teacher to the left, she kept it up relentlessly until, with a sweeping attack, she twisted around with her sword coming at Sani from the left—all while Sani’s sword was still moving to block the expected attack from the right.

  Taryn knew the move was virtually impossible to defeat. To her credit, Sani fared well. She saw it coming and had time to reverse her sword in a vain attempt to block when Maemi’s sword stopped . . . on her masters’ neck.

  The onlookers erupted in sound. Mae’s skill and technique were very good, but her sheer speed took Taryn’s breath away. It took several minutes to get the crowd under control after the unbelievable display. It wasn’t often they saw a student that had attained such a level of mastery, and the applause and shouts were deafening as the two combatants separated and bowed to each other.

  Daiki stood and stepped out to congratulate them. The mage said a few quick words to each of them, and they returned to their seats as he beckoned to Trin to come forward. Trin’s master, Rangel, also stood up and joined them in the center of the fighting area. Both tall and broad shouldered, they couldn’t have been a more different pair. Trin had long, dark brown hair, brown eyes and a ready smile that always seemed to be tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  He found something amusing in almost every situation, and if he couldn’t, he was prone to . . . make it amusing. Rangel wasn’t quite as tall as him, but a little stockier, with black hair streaked with silver. They both drew their longswords and bowed before Daiki performed the protection spell on their weapons. Once he was finished, he said a few words of encouragement and returned to his seat.

  In a flurry of long sweeps and chops, the battle came together. Trin was excellent with his sword, maintaining a firm grip with both hands while moving forward and back according to the movements of his teacher. A broad smile leapt to his features as he spun to avoid a particularly quick attack. It was apparent he was enjoying the challenge, and a challenge it was. The battle moved all over the arena and lasted for almost fifteen minutes before Rangel feinted high from the right, then swept his sword low to catch Trin on the leg, hitting hard enough to knock him on his back. Trin hit the ground in a roll that returned him to his feet. Shaking his head, he spread his hands out wide in a gesture that plainly said, “What did you do that for?”

  Rangel let out a guffaw and said, “You shouldn’t have been standing there.”

  Wiping sweat from his brow and feigning out of breath, Trin said, “I got tired and was about to sit down for a break. I knew you needed one, too.” They both laughed and clasped hands in congratulations.

  Taryn noticed that Rangel was breathing considerably harder than Trin as the two fighters waited for Daiki to calm the audience down and couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he would have lasted before tiring. It had been a tough fight, and Taryn was impressed with Trin’s endurance and Rangel’s skill. After a quick word between Daiki and Rangel, they announced that Trin had passed his test.

  The next student didn’t do as well as either Trin or Mae. A tall elf Taryn did not know went next and fought with the short sword, although his lack of skill was obvious in every move. In fact, he looked like he had been training for only a few years. He lost quickly, and Daiki announced they had to consult before they could come to a decision on him. Taryn sighed to himself. If they said they had to deliberate, it almost always meant the student had not passed. Behind him he caught someone talking about how lazy the fighter was. He shook his head. Lazy students on the island did not fare well.

  Liri went next. While she and her two masters walked out and waited for Daiki to dull their weapons, a group of other teachers began placing fifteen targets at various distances in the field to the right of the arena. Because she had studied the longbow, she would fight her two masters with the sword first, and then test with her bow after all the swordfights were finished. Taryn would do the same. After Daiki sat down again, Liri and her two teachers squared off. The first time Taryn had seen someone fight two teachers at once he’d thought it wasn’t fair on the student, but he had come to realize after several Acabi ceremonies that it was quite practical. After all, how many times were there only two people in a fight?

  After their warm-up, Taryn had thought Liri had improved a lot, but it quickly became apparent that she had not been entirely forthcoming about her ability during their warm-up either. She was good, her stance was perfect, and her form with each move of the sword was fluid and strong. Sunlight flashed off her sword as she danced left and right to parry her two opponents. Taryn couldn’t believe how fast she was, and he found himself admiring and studying her form. She may not have been as lightning quick as Mae had been, but her speed and technique were
still impressive.

  Darting back from a double strike she continued with a defensive posture. Despite her approach, she still managed to find an opening to slip her sword in and catch one of her teachers in the stomach. Applause broke out as the teacher withdrew from the battle. Liri had been smart, he realized—the teacher she had defeated had been her master of the longbow and probably was not as good with a blade.

  Taryn grinned and shook his head. Murai had always taught him to know his opponents—and if he didn’t know them, learn fast. His favorite lessons where those in which his uncle would switch techniques mid-match and force him to adapt to a completely different style.

  A sudden clash of blades brought him back to the battle before him. Liri fought fiercely, trying with all her might to catch her teacher off guard—but her master was relentless. She backed her student against the rock face, and with nowhere to turn, Liri missed a reverse that came too fast. An instant later it was over. He realized he had been holding his breath and blew out the air as he stood to join applause so thunderous he could barely hear Daiki announce that she had passed. Liri’s fight had been one of the best Taryn had seen, and, catching her eye, he grinned and nodded an acknowledgement of her effort.

  As the noise began to diminish around him, Taryn remained standing. A chill went down his spine with the knowledge that he was next. At that moment he would have given anything in the world for his parents to be there. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he forced himself to focus and walked out to the center of the arena.

  Three elves and one human stood up from the master’s bench: Murai, his master of the katsana; Elsu, his master of the longbow; Edric, his master of hand-to-hand fighting; and last of all Irela, his master of two-weapon fighting. They all waited patiently as Daiki performed the spell on their weapons. Before his teachers could take up positions on all sides of him, Taryn unobtrusively moved so the rock wall was at his back. He caught his uncle’s approving glance at his choice of position as he waited for the four masters to take up positions in front of him.