Excalion

AUTHOR'S NOTE: After a long bout of Writer's Block and coming to the realization that I have Writer's ADD, I bring to you yet another installment of Excalion. I don't think there's much left to say, other than enjoy, and that reviews and/or constructive criticism is always welcome!

Excalion
Chapter One: The Calm Before The Storm

=[ Part Two ]=


The world around him was a blur as Wynn leaned forward and pressed his mount to move as fast as it would let itself. The footfalls of the opasha matched the beating of his heart as he embraced the cool breeze flying against his face and the tickly feeling of the opasha’s feathers brushing against his cheek. He took the time to close his eyes and enjoy a temporary moment of freedom.

He opened his eyes as soon as the thudding of the opasha’s feet turned into the sharp rustling of brush. He smiled to himself as he lightly pulled on the reins, slowing his mount to a brisk trot.

“You know where I want to go, don’t you, Asha?”

The opasha chirped happily and bobbed its head in reply.

Wynn nodded. “All right. Let’s go at a steady pace. I don’t want either of us falling and breaking anything.”

The opasha nodded and it slowed from its trot to a leisurely stroll, both Wynn and his feathered mount occasionally ducking underneath a low branch. Asha took a series of turns before entering a clearing with a crystal clear pond being fed by a high waterfall. Wynn stopped the opasha and dismounted, rubbing the side of his mount’s neck gently as he took two steps towards the pond.

“Go on and get some exercise, Asha,” he said, not taking his eyes off the clear waters. “You’ll know when I’m ready to go.”

The bird tilted its head at him for a moment before turning and jogging away from the clearing. He paid no attention as he reached the edge of the pond and undressed himself. He folded his clothes properly and set them on the ground beside his boots before wading into the pond and swimming over to the opposite edge towards a rock at the center of the waterfall’s mouth. He calmly vaulted himself onto his perch and sat down cross-legged, water crashing down on his body, his back turned to a pair of eyes that watched him and his mount, which was grazing on some berries growing at the base of a tree twenty feet from the pond.


* * * * *


“So, you slept with Wynn again last night.”

The statement was enough to distract Shanavale as the practice blade came down roughly on her shoulder.

“Point to Tammash!” announced the only observer, Overon’s Captain of the Guard.

“What?” Shanavale’s fiery gaze swept from her opponent to the Captain and back. “That was underhanded, Naomi!”

Naomi Tammash tilted her head away from Shanavale and giggled. “Oh, calm down, Vale. You have to learn to loosen up and not let things get to you so easily.”

“No one knew…”

“Right, Vale,” Naomi countered as she lowered into a fighting stance. “I’m not psychic, but it shows all over your face.”

Shanavale leaned forward into an offensive stance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Naomi narrowed her eyes and cocked her eyebrows twice, a mischievous grin on her face. “Come at me.”

Taking her opponent’s invitation, Shanavale ran full-tilt at Naomi, who winked and complied by running towards her. The practice swords met with an ear-splitting crack that echoed off the walls of the training room.

“I could tell by your body language,” Naomi said through her teeth, pushing forward. “Your cheeks have been flushed since I woke you this morning, you’ve been walking with a slight skip in your step…” She leaned forward so that her face was closer to Shanavale’s. “…And no matter how thoroughly you washed before you came here, your scent mixed with Wynn’s is still strong on your body.”

Shanavale faltered again, losing her balance and falling flat on her back. Naomi, still leaning forward, fell onto Shanavale.

“If that was all it took to have you on the floor with me on top,” Naomi said with a light laugh, “I’d have done it long ago.”

Shanavale slapped the floor twice.

“Point to Tammash!” the Captain said after clearing his throat.

Naomi got to her feet and offered her hand.

“Is it really that noticeable?”

“Actually, I didn’t know until just now.”

Shanavale’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“I was just saying those things to get you distracted, and Kai’s not here to tell me otherwise.” Naomi winked.

Shanavale narrowed her eyes. “You’re a dirty cheater, Naomi. A great fighter, but a dirty cheater.”

Naomi smiled sweetly at her friend as she walked over to the blushing Captain, who handed her a towel. “You’re the only person that I can do that to, Vale. There’s nothing I can say to Kai and Wynn’s no fighter, at least not yet.”

Shanavale shrugged as they left the training room. “So I’m nothing more than your psychological warfare whipping-girl?”

Naomi winked again. “When you put it that way…”

Shanavale dispelled any further thoughts as she tossed her towel at her friend. “That’s enough out of you, Nay-Oh. The Captain was ready to launch himself at you.”

“He wishes,” Naomi said as she tossed back Shanavale’s towel and threw her tousled hair back. “He saw how dirty I fight, and he can only imagine how much dirtier I can get.”


* * * * *


Wynn’s breathing remained calm and evenly paced as he continued to recall his vision. He shut his eyes tightly, vividly recalling the large beasts that invaded his sleep, the inhuman roaring of a red dragon as it flew overhead, covering the sun with its wing and casting a deathly crimson glow over the field where he stood. The dream seemed to become his reality as he heard the roaring of dragons, the battle cries and the foreign voices of some unknown enemy, the death throes of those falling to the unknown enemy and those falling to the dragons.

He felt his heartbeat slow as he opened his eyes, and in the rock face in front of him, he saw the feral reptilian eyes of the golden dragon in his vision. Without reacting, he looked over the reptilian eyes and saw the face of Shanavale, blue light and small tendrils of lightning crackling from her eye sockets.

“Why are you siding with the dragons, Shanavale? Why did you send the golden dragon to kill me?”

To his surprise, a voice in his mind answered him.

You, young Mage, are instrumental to the preservation of all you hold dear.

“What does my vision mean?”

Your blood will tell you the meaning of what you have seen. Remember the Princess and the three spirit beasts that followed her in her vision.

“What spirit beasts? I saw none in my vision.”

Find the claw in the valley of flames. Find the talon in the plains of ice. They will lead you to the Guardian of the Wasteland. There the Eye of Time will send you its savior, and there the Guardians will join you.

“What does it all mean?”

There was no answer as the chirping of an impatient opasha broke his trance. He blinked, feeling disoriented and nauseous. He looked back at the rock face behind the waterfall, but the reptilian eyes and Shanavale’s face were no longer recognizable. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned around to see Asha at the opposite end of the pond by his clothes. Clearing his head, he slipped into the cool waters and waded back to the other side. He walked to the opasha, taking a towel from a saddle pouch on one side of his mount. The winged beast cried apprehensively as he finished drying and dressing himself.

“What’s wrong, Asha?”

The opasha fidgeted nervously, her gaze darting from one treetop to the next.

“All right, all right,” he said, climbing onto the bird. He scanned the treetops cautiously before pulling on the reins and ordering his opasha to leave the forest, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching and following him.


* * * * *


Naomi sat back as she watched Shanavale press on with a platoon of her troops through the paces of Overon’s Weapons Master, a grizzled veteran who bore many scars on his face as well as the rigid stance borne of patience and discipline. She grinned as Shanavale showed no sign of letting up as one by one the soldiers around her fell to one knee from exhaustion.

“Take it easy on them, Vale,” she called out. “You’ll kill them before they have a chance to see battle.”

Shanavale didn’t listen as she vigorously worked her body through the Weapons Master’s commands.

“Remember, to fight is to dance dangerously. To fight is not only like a game of chess, but it is also like a dance. You must think three moves ahead, but you must also learn to move with your inner song.” The armored veteran called for a halt and the ten remaining soldiers, Shanavale included, stood at rapt attention as he began to pace in front of Shanavale and the three remaining soldiers from the first row.

“There is only one thing certain about war: there is one point when your heart and that of your opponent beat in unison. You will know in their eyes and the way they move. At that point, you will truly fight for your life. Why is it only at that moment the true battle begins?”

Shanavale opened her mouth to speak when another voice, clear and strong, spoke from the back row.

“It is only at that moment when you and your opponent see yourselves in each other’s eyes. You become your opponent and they become you. You fight to keep your identity and the memories of those you hold close.”

The Weapons Master grinned. “A foolish reply, but I expect nothing more from a warrior in training.”

Shanavale turned to observe the person that answered before her. Standing straight and proud, a young man with long ebony hair and chestnut eyes, dressed in midnight-blue warrior’s garb and wearing sandals, stared impassively at the Weapons Master.

“That is the answer you seek, sir, and I will prove the truth of my answer by sending your best warrior, if not yourself, to fight me.”

“What is your name?”

“My name is Jacen,” the young man replied. “Jacen of the house of Omicronus.”

“Omicronus, eh? A noble house whose warriors fight with a passion second only to the Royal Family.” The Weapons Master took one step towards Shanavale and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Will you teach this whelp who is undeserving of his house what it truly means to fight?”

Shanavale did not turn to the Weapons Master as Jacen set his gaze upon her. “I will fight you, Jacen of Omicronus.”

The young man nodded slowly. “We will fight right here with quarterstaffs as weapons, General.”

Shanavale said nothing as she took a quarterstaff tossed to her in hand without taking her gaze off her long-haired opponent. “You are nothing more than a fighter. Prove to me that you have the skill to at least address me by my rank.”

There was a flicker in the young man’s eyes, something that disconcerted Shanavale as he walked casually towards her. He stopped four meters away from her before lowering into a fighting stance, one end of his weapon at the ready.

“I will prove my right to have the name of Omicronus, General, for I know I have the skill to address you by rank, and as a warrior.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she leaned forward into her stance. The seconds were tense as the soldiers formed a wide circle around herself and her opponent. Her heart began to race as a smile began to spread slowly on his face. A bead of sweat trailed down her nose as he snapped into action.

In the brief moment that she blinked, he was already upon her, his quarterstaff held high in a crushing blow. She dodged to the side, moving ahead of his weapon by mere seconds, slashing her staff in a wide lateral arc. In a fluid motion, Jacen dodged around her attack, slipping in just behind her swing, bringing his own staff to bear and swinging down diagonally.

Flowing with her attack, she completed a full circle, parrying his slash just before it connected with her head. Using her momentum, she curled her fingers against her open hand, trying to flat-palm Jacen in the face. In a surprising movement, his elbow surged upward, deflecting her arm, his arm with the staff following with near-blinding speed. Shanavale caught sight of it and ducked under the swing. Jumping at her sudden advantage, she fell to one knee and flat-palmed him in the abdomen and slamming her weapon violently against his side.

There was a silence as everything stopped. Silently, Jacen took three steps back and slowly fell to one knee.

“You have defeated me, General,” he said with a heavy cough.

Shanavale fought to hide her shaking as she straightened up. “The Weapons Master is wrong, Jacen of Omicronus. You fought with a ferocity befitting your House. And you are correct as well in saying that you have the skill to address me by my rank.” She offered her hand.

Jacen stood and slowly shook his head. “Permission to leave the training grounds, General.”

“Why?”

“To see a doctor. You might have broken a rib or two.”

She furrowed her brow. “Have someone accompany you.”

He raised a hand as he covered his mouth with his free hand and coughed. Shanavale noticed a drop of blood bead between his fingers. “None are necessary, General. Permission to leave the training grounds.”

Shanavale gently nodded. Jacen bowed at the hip and slowly walked away.


=[ End of Part Two ]=

A/N: There you have it. Now, back to the drawing board. See you next chapter!