Christopher Kellen - Elegy

“Good,” he said with a slight smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

She lifted her blade. “Show me that stance again.”

D’Arden had forgotten what it was like to have a student, a pupil, someone who looked up to him and hung on his every word. It had been years since he’d trained his last apprentice Arbiter, choosing instead to take every mission that would lead him across the land, hunting evil wherever it would take root. As this young girl stood beside him, though, mimicking his movements and showing real improvement even inside of a few hours, that memory began to rekindle. As he began to see more of Elisa’s potential as a sword-slinger, he almost wished that she were younger, that he might be able to indoctrinate her as an Arbiter, rather than sending her off to become a soldier. The pain that he suffered, though, he would not wish upon anyone. The burden of the heartblade, the drive to fell evil at every corner and to seek it out whenever possible was more than most could bear, and besides all of that, she was far too old to begin Arbiter’s training now. If she were only a few years younger… but alas, this girl was not to be his next apprentice.

So instead he showed her every simple movement, every basic training in the way of the blade that he could remember. Obviously she was still too inexperienced for the more complex maneuvers, and some were downright impossible without the assistance of the manna, but many of the basics were the same no matter what kind of blade one wielded, whether it was steel, silver or crystal. Balance, leverage, proper swing arcs and stance were all things that he could impart on this suddenly willing student, and she absorbed all of it with alacrity.

They spent almost an hour in the dying light of the zagoths ’ fire, as the Deadmoon wandered through the sky overhead amongst the thin clouds that occasionally obscured its deathly white light. By the time they were finished, she was coated with a fine sheen of sweat and had shed most of her armor despite the cold. He had to admit, she was quite attractive even in the cold light, if several decades too young for his interest.

“The night grows long,” he said. “We should take advantage of the cover of night to surprise more of these demons, if still they lurk here. You may not find all of the stances I’ve taught you to be comfortable, and more of them you’ll forget before the night is out, but the basics should help you to strike stronger and faster at our enemies.”

“I’ll use them,” she said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

Under the cover of night, they struck at several more camps of the zagoths. It seemed to D’Arden that Elisa’s prowess with the sword grew steadily with each encounter, and with surprise on their side, they never suffered any wounds more serious than a scratch or shallow cut.

As the night grew to its darkest and the Deadmoon began to set over the western sky, D’Arden knew that it would soon be dawn. There was little to be gained by striking in the bright light, and the demons were nocturnal creatures, living their lives at night and crawling back into their holes by day.

They stood on the edge of the Old City near the dry riverbed, on the stones that had once made up the harbor district. The view of the eastern sky was clear, and he knew that the sun would be rising soon. The river itself was several yards to the bottom, but no water had flowed this way in centuries. It was hard to see in the dark, but he knew the land that stretched out before him which had once carried life-giving water to this place was now dry, cracked and parched.

“We won’t find them once dawn comes,” he told her as they picked over the remains of another slain camp of zagoths. “They’ll vanish again in the daylight. They don’t suffer from the corruption itself – these demons are entirely nature’s creation – but they don’t like the light any more than something touched by corrupted manna. The Old City will be safe for the day, and you should go and get some rest. It’s been a very long night.”

I should return to my manna font, he thought to himself. I’ve expended enough energy this night as it is. There doesn’t appear to be any real danger here in the Old City… the demons aren’t brave enough to venture out of their territory now that we’ve decimated their numbers.

She nodded. There was a cut on her cheek that had already clotted, and there was a smear of drying blood. He hoped that it wouldn’t scar and damage her lovely visage, but then again, he supposed, there were worse things than a real battle scar on a woman. “All right,” she said. “I’ll go back to the barracks. I could use some sleep anyway.” There were thick dark circles around her eyes, and though some of the haunted-ness had left her eyes, he could still see the trauma of the loss of her friends lurking there behind her green-eyed gaze.

“Good,” he said with a slight smile. “You made it through, just as I said.”

“I told you that I would,” she smirked. “You’ll make good on that promise of yours, right?”

“I will,” he promised again.

The first light of dawn began to break over the eastern horizon. Just as it did, D’Arden heard a commotion coming from behind him. He turned to look, and saw something horrific come out of the ground at them.

It was a massive spider, several times larger than a man, burrowing out of the ground. Dust and small rocks flew in all directions, and D’Arden could see the red glow surrounding it and the tiny red pinpoints in its multiple eyes indicating that it was a creature born and made of the corrupted manna. He wondered how many of these spiders there might be even as he backed up, holding one arm out to keep Elisa behind him.

“It’s a manna spinner,” D’Arden said breathlessly as it came fully into view. The huge black carapace was unmistakable – this was no ordinary spider, but a creature born to swim the underground currents of the manna, normally benevolent and non-aggressive, now twisted in its corruption as it came out of the ground near them. He wondered briefly why it might be emerging just as the light of dawn was breaking, but he had little time to wonder.

“Die, beast!” Elisa was shouting as she raised her sword high in the air and rushed at the creature.

“Elisa, no! You can’t…”

Too late.

As she swung the sword hard, it bounced off of the manna spinner’s hard body and reverberated so hard that the steel blade almost cracked. She was stunned by the sudden rebound of the sword and staggered backwards. D’Arden leapt forward to help her, but even his assisted speed could not help him as the manna spinner sank its giant, manna-tainted fangs deep into her body. She cried out and stiffened as the manna-venom coursed through her body, and collapsed like a marionette as its strings were cut as the spider withdrew its deadly bite.

“Damn you!” he cried, leaping forward and drawing the crystalline sword from his back in the same motion, bringing it slicing downward through the air. It caught one of the spider’s outstretched legs and severed it on contact. The blue manna fire devoured the severed extremity within seconds, but the beast was able to resist its effect as the azure flames attempted to creep up its extremity.

It hissed at him – a deep, terrifying sound – and struck back, stabbing at him with clawed legs. He swung at them as they came by, but the spider was too swift when it was paying attention to him, and he wasn’t able to connect with either one as they passed by. He danced forward and struck again, but the spider pulled back, moving just out of his range and lashed out at him once more, trying to push him off guard so that it might have a chance to bite at him as well.