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by Blade Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1280666
On a routine trip to a sacred monument, Blake Toskun and the Devoted will be ambushed.
         The excitement was almost overwhelming. After a full days journey they were finally closing in on their destination. Blake was looking forward to this almost too anxiously for him to wait any longer …almost. He kept his training and discipline about him and was able to quell down the rogue feelings. The tomb of Rilotif, the founder of the Devoted, was just an hour’s march away. The high priest has said that all devoted must make a trip to Rilotif’s grave in order to advance to a true rank within the Devoted.

         Rilotif’s tomb is in the middle of a huge forest known as the Giant’s wood. Giant’s wood supports the largest trees in the known world of Rosun within its rolling hills. Blake could clearly hear the native animals going about their lives as darkness closed in. Legends stated that giants live in these woods but every intelligent being with some since about them knew they were nothing more than just that, legends. But Blake was still wary of such an encounter seeing as how most of Rosun assumed dwarves were just legends as well, but Blake knew from his days training with the army before he reached the rank of dedicated that they were with out a doubt real.

         This trip used to be undertaken alone as it is a personal matter, but the dwarves’ border was simply too close. Because of this, he was accompanied by several higher ranking Devoted and two soldiers, who were also making the trip to see the grave. One of the soldiers is his better friend Tevon; she is a creature of grace, almost built like an elf. Her almost childish face was usually framed by her long, golden hair but as always she pulled it back into a pony tail when “soldier’s work had to be done,” as she would say. She and he had come into The Sanctuary in the same class of Acknowledged, her sound advice and mischievous attitude went along perfectly with Blake’s willingness to adventure and yet kept him from getting in too deep with his teachers. She was beautiful, but Blake could only see her as a friend. As he knew she could only see him as the same.

         The other soldier accompanying the party was an older man of at least thirty, which puts him 8 years over that of Tevon and himself. He is a rough man who has seen much action against the likes of dwarves. He was a seasoned veteran and very skilled with the spear even if he had never earned a promotion. Blake could not help but stare sometimes. But the huge scar running from ear to shoulder was almost impossible to ignore. Tetrys had a way of always fitting in a swear in every sentence. He was very creative in that manner. His blonde hair contrasted with his brown eyes. Not a good combination of traits in a woman’s eyes. Where as Blake, with his handsome face, cut body, and brown hair, blue eyes combination seemed to always attract the attention of the women. Tetrys has always been jealous of him in that way.

         The monk accompanying the party was Blake’s mentor, friend, and mother figure. Móriril had been the one to look after Blake when he was accepted into the sanctuary. She is the only elf in the sanctuary, standing a good five inches shorter than Blake’s six feet. Elves very rarely came to the sanctuary since the two races have been at each other’s throats of late. Although very skilled with the bow and unarmed combat, Móriril was a master with the two-bladed sword. She is the most skilled warrior among the group and had taught Blake everything he knows about the way of the monk and unarmed combat. Móriril's most distinct feature is her blonde hair that is in complete contrast to her black eyes. There is no line between were the iris ends and pupil begins. These black eyes seemed all knowing and could penetrate anyone.

         The last two members of the group Blake didn’t know very well. Tycha was a full wizard; she is one of the best wizards posted outside of the sanctuary. She is very tall for a human woman, standing close to six feet. She is a pretty woman with her long brown hair and blue eyes and an angular face. Although Blake would always say that Tevon was much better looking. The head of the party, as custom dictated, is a priestess named Krymiri; her white hair and wrinkled face accurately tells of her age. She is a very devoted priestess and despite of her age this was her first trip to lead the party to the tomb. As with all lower ranked devoted she had previously visited the tomb in order to advance in her chosen path. Upon returning, Blake will be promoted from Scholar to a Dedicated, indicating that he chose the path of the monk over that of the priest. Where Blake had two choices, Tevon and Tetrys can only be advanced in the soldier path. They will be Sergeants, pending their return of course.

         Just thinking about returning to the sanctuary to study with the monks made Blake tingle. “Thirty minutes to the tomb,” Krymiri announced. Only thirty more minutes, this is just too good to be true. “I’m so excited,” said Tevon. “I just can’t wait any longer.” Blake responded, “I know, I jus…” Then he was flying through the air and the world was spinning. He managed to land on his feet, and turned back towards the party and saw the assailants. They were huge standing what had to be close to 10 feet, although they looked just like humans. One of the attackers, wielding a great sword which could easily be a one handed weapon for him, was fending off both Tetrys and Móriril. He moved impossible fast but seemed to make only defensive and counter attack moves. It’s almost as if he could feel and see the flow of battle. Blake then realized that Tevon could be in trouble and desperately searched for her. In his frantic actions he saw the other beast pinning down Tycha. He appeared to be a magic user as he continuously disrupted her spells with counter spells. He used his massive body to corner her literally. Blake also saw Krymiri’s body severed in half at their feet. Then he saw Tevon fighting off a wolf, which the magic user must have summoned. She was holding her own to Blake’s great relief. He decided to help Tycha.

         With the monster distracted, Blake reached out for those presences that were always there. The waves of magic, which Móriril explained as the essence of arcane magic, were always with Blake. All he had to do was draw them towards him and release. He formed the lightning with in mere moments and fired it with out any chants, hand movements, or any other usual forms of spell casting. This was not spell casting but manipulating the natural waves of magic to his will. The lightning, Blake’s favorite, struck home as the giant could not seem to anticipate his spell the way he was doing Tycha’s. Taking advantage of the distraction Tycha used her last bits of energy and life to drive a sword into the throat of the attacker. He died in a fit of rage and gurgling as his life blood spilled out of his mouth. Tycha died with a content smile on her face. Then he heard a shriek, he turned realizing that it was Tevon who gave off the scream. As he was turning he felt a jab of flaring pain shoot up his side as the third attacker clubbed him on his way to Tevon. He fell to the ground. He could hardly think with such agony and constant throbbing, but Tevon needed him. He reached for the earth essence to manipulate the ground, when he felt a pulsating in the essence. He had never felt this before; he could feel its power. He drew it to him, reaching for it as he watched Tevon being easily defeated by the monster with the club. He reached harder, and an unbelievable pain shot up through his hand, but he had the power. With it he manipulated the earth itself to incase the huge beast. Then he slowly crushed the life out of him, as he willed the earth tomb to collapse. He heard the crushing and snapping of bone and let the earth fall. The flattened corpse of the attacker fell with it.

         Tevon rushed over to hug him, when she exclaimed, “What is that in you hand?” Blake had forgot about the pain and quickly brought his hand up in front of his eyes. He could not believe what he saw, a sharp crystal pierced right in the palm of his left hand. He knew the unbelievable power originated from this object. “I don’t know” he said. Blake looked down as he removed the crystal and saw a clean cut hole in the ground. He had to have drawn it up from the ground. “I have too... have to… I need …” “You need to rest,” said Tevon. He then collapsed from the pain.

         Upon awakening, he was greeted by the Flame of Truth himself, who awarded both Tevon and Blake with promotions despite not visiting the tomb. The Flame of Truth also broke the heart wrenching news to Blake that Móriril had gone missing as only two of the three giant’s bodies were found. Blake could not believe this and sought comfort with his good friend Tevon. On the third day back Tevon came to Blake’s room that morning and said, “I kept your crystal for you, you can have it.” Blake had assumed the Flame of Truth had taken it for examination. “Thank you, you are the best,” he said. With it returned, he began to ponder on how much he could do with the earth aspect, as he decided to call it.

         Life was different, with Móriril missing. Blake found himself missing Móriril sweet and kind attitude as well as her sturdy, guiding hand. One day he would try to find her, but for now the best way to honor her memory is for Blake to push himself to the highest position within the sanctuary. He will become The Flame of Truth and will lead the whole Sanctuary on a mission to find her.

         Blake felt the energy within the earth aspect and decided to see what his new found weapon was capable of.
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