Terah Edun - Sworn To Transfer

Where she had stood, the metal bar clanged to the ground, its sound resonating in the empty field as those left behind looked on in disbelief.

For long moments Ciardis was falling in a void of silence and darkness. And then she felt herself land. The darkness cleared and light and sound filled the void.

Shifting voices echoed in and out of her ears as her eyes tried to adjust to the blinding landscape she’d transported to. As bright sunlight caught her eyes, she threw up her hands in protection and squinted in the harsh sun. The voices grew louder and odd smells penetrated her confused senses. Woodfire and smoke, unwashed bodies and blood.

What was going on?

Her dress was torn to shreds, her hair tangled with roots, her hands were black with dirt, and scratches ran all along her arms. She took tentative steps forward trying to figure out where she was. She was shocked when her bare feet stumbled onto the cold ground hardened by frost, and her breath froze in the air.

Her hair whipped loose around her as she looked around with unease.

Surrounding her in a semi-circle were armed men. They stared at her with shock etched on their faces. Their hands stayed ready at their waists, gripping the pommels of swords. The six men were silently eyeing her up and down, the disheveled girl who had somehow appeared in their midst.

Ciardis tried to speak but her voice broke.

Speaking in a hoarse croak she said, “Where? Where am I?”

The men surrounding her suddenly parted ranks and out of their midst General Banaren appeared. By his side strode Leonidas, General of the Imperial Army.

“Well, by the gods,” General Banaren said, astonished. “Ciardis Weathervane, what are you doing here?”

Staring at him with bleary eyes, she asked, “Where is here?”

Grimacing, he whipped off his heavy overcloak and loudly called for fresh water to be brought.

“The frontlines of the war in the North.”

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