[Story] Trials

(Just so you know, I have thoroughly made up this story, warrior trials didn't happen and I don't think even old night elves were this corrupt but never mind eh?)

Ferwyn sat on a grassy bank, sipping from a bottle of water and occasionally taking a bite from a piece of spice bread she had brought with her for lunch. The sun was bearing down on the earth with particular ferociousness making staying awake difficult, having been awake since the moon rise of the previous night; she was feeling more than a little drowsy but she was determined to stay awake. A small spotted kitten to her right had already fallen asleep, feeling the effects of the heat, he was making soft purring noises as he breathed in and out, Ferwyn couldn’t help but smile at her little friend. He had only recently begun to trust her to this level and she felt proud that she had managed to befriend the first creature she had tried to tame; apparently many hunters took two or three attempts to gain this level of friendship with their pets.

The reason she was out in the day by choice was that she was watching the warrior trials, every year the young elves who had been selected at a very young age for their physical strength and prowess with weaponry had to prove themselves to the elders so that they might be considered worthy of truly earning the title of warrior. They were put through the most rigorous trials and tests so that they could show what they had learned over the years as best they could. Ferwyn had been watching for a couple of hours and out of the twenty or so warriors she had seen put through the trials, only a handful had passed, several had been knocked out cold and one had even broken down in hysterical tears when faced with a fearsome looking bear that he claimed looked like his long lost father. Ferwyn had giggled guiltily when they had carried him off kicking and screaming that his father was secretly a druid of the claw when everyone knew he had disgraced himself by running away with a human.

A female warrior caught Ferwyn’s interest, she has just hacked her way through several training dummies and was currently battling the bear, she was quick and agile, and looked a little out of place in her bulky armour. Even the female warriors usually carried a certain weight to them but she was slender, well shaped and well designed for the task at hand. She leapt clean over the bears head, landed deftly on the other side and swung her sword at its head before it had a chance to turn around. It would have been a killing blow had a glowing magical shield not sprung up around the bear; the aim was not to kill the it, only to demonstrate that you could if you faced such a situation in the wild. She was met with brief, polite applause from the audience seated in the actual arena, Ferwyn has decided not to sit with her races elite, they often looked down on orphans with contempt as though it was their fault. Plus they would disapprove of Maiq, the little cat she had brought with her, and her simple cloth clothing and her lack of gold, amongst other things.

The girl’s name was Heathershade, which meant that surnames beginning with I were next, Ferwyn sat up straight so she could get a better view of the arena and even Maiq awoke when he heard the next name that was called; Metya I’Ambar. Ferwyn resisted the urge to cheer loudly and instead went for the polite applause that her kin offered when Metya appeared through the gates of the large arena. He raised a hand slightly in thanks, although in Ferwyn’s opinion he looked a little awkward receiving the applause of the elders and nobles. He got to work straight away, easily tearing through the training dummies and making quick work of the three wolves that had replaced the bear. The next test was a straight fight with a partner that matched the candidate in skill, Metya was paired with the female warrior who had gone before him, although Ferwyn felt they had only does this because no-one even came close to matching Metya’s skill. They faced each other in the centre of the arena, and bowed to one another to show politeness and then prepared themselves in their individual stances. The girl had chosen a long two handed sword whereas Metya favoured a shorter one hand sword and shield. Ferwyn knew little about this sort of combat but felt that the short sword and shield would give Metya an advantage.

The horn sounded and the battle began, the girl swung her sword straight at Metya’s head, it would have sliced him clean in half had he not raised his shield just in time, it took the force of the swing and threw the girl backwards a little. Metya kept the shield up and swung low at her legs with his shorter blade, she swiftly jumped over the swing and whirled her sword around her head and brought it back down again with crushing force. It struck Metya clean in the shoulder and he fell to one knee with a cry, Ferwyn jumped up and yelled obscenities at the girl, much to the disgust of the distinguished audience. Metya, spurred on by Ferwyn’s support, recovered from the blow and pushed upwards against the girl with his shield knocking her straight over backwards. He jumped up to his feet and quickly angled the point of his blade at her throat. Although it was not a knockout, the girl had to concede defeat, she saw no way out of the situation and indeed there was none. Her sword was too long and too heavy to swing from her position on the floor. The elder elf in charge of the trials announced Metya’s victory and as the audience applauded once again, Ferwyn jumped up and down and screamed her delight at Metya’s victory. Maiq added his little roar to the situation, making the audience truly disgusted with the hunter that had snuck in to the prestigious trials without permission.

There was one final trail for the victors of the battles to face before they could leave the arena as great warriors; they had to show a knowledge of battle and warfare, they had to explain exactly why they felt they should be considered great warriors. Ferwyn grinned, most warriors never went in for real education, the kind with books, but Metya was fascinated by everything. He read all he could, just so he could know about it, no matter what it is. The first warrior stepped up and stumbled over every word, he could hardly say his name never mind why he should be a warrior. The second warrior fared even worse, keeling over in a dead faint the second he faced the audience, and the third, well the third felt the fact that he could “chop many heads” was a reason why he should be a great warrior to represent all of the night elves. Then it was Metya’s turn, Ferwyn smiled as he looked up to her for support, she waved frantically and Maiq swished his tail, Metya nodded and cleared his throat.

“I wanted to be a protector, I wanted to be able to look after my sister after my mother died. Father was, is a great man, but he could not look after us physically, he was so torn apart by Mother’s death. My sister needs someone to look after her and so does my friend up there,” at this point he indicated Ferwyn, “she has no-one apart from that cat she’s with, I want to look after her as well. I just feel like, I need to be able to protect people, without that I’d be nothing.” He paused and looked at the audience, they were whispering amongst themselves, he wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing, but he pressed on. “As a warrior, it’s about the skills with the weaponry of course but also about the heart, if you don’t have the right heart then how can you truly believe in what you’re fighting for?”

The whispering in the crowd had turned to blatant talking and they were pointing at Metya, and pointing at Ferwyn who watched them curiously. Suddenly they broke into tumultuous applause, not polite restrained applause, but full on, standing up applause. There were even a couple of cheers, Ferwyn was overjoyed, she leapt to her feet again and hollered as loud as she could before running down the grassy verge, easily scaling the fence and jumping across the water running around the outside of the arena to give Metya a very large hug. To her surprise, nobody seemed very concerned about it, she had been quite looking forward to being chased out of there by the organisers.

Suddenly from no-where, Ferwyn felt a slash across her back, she cried out and fell forwards, the girl Metya had defeated was back and wanted vengeance. One elder from the crowd shouted down “come now, take defeat like a true warrior!” But the girl yelled out in a blood thirsty rage and attacked again, she was met with the full force of a young Nightsabre launching himself at her side on and stumbled a little, she swung wildly and caught the cat’s left flank causing him to howl in pain and drop back. Metya had gone to subdue the girl, but before he could, Ferwyn threw herself past him at the girl and tackled her to the floor muttering obscenities. Metya tried to pull them apart but another voice from the crowd shouted ”let them fight, I could do with entertaining!” This was met with raucous cheering, “let the boy have the victor!” Again, more raucous cheering, even the elder warriors were allowing it. Metya sighed, realising that his words had not sunk in and stood to the side, holding the injured Maiq.

Ferwyn had been given her choice of weapon, taking nothing but a bow and a quiver of arrows, against the girl’s heavy claymore, many in the audience felt it would be a quick fight in the favour of the female warrior. The battle began and the warrior swung madly at Ferwyn who jumped to the side out the way of the swing, the warrior corrected herself and swung again, Ferwyn once again jumped out of the way. This carried on for a couple of minutes until the warrior grew angry, she began swinging without thinking at the jumping hunter, unfortunately this left her open on all sides. Following a brutal strike to Ferwyn’s head which caught her across the cheek, she jumped, somersaulting over the warriors head, loading her bow mid air, landing, turning and firing the arrow directly into the middle of the warriors back. The arrow did not go in very far, Ferwyn did not intend to kill the warrior under any circumstances, she merely saw this as a chance to prove herself in the eyes if the elders. When the cheering had finished, she faced them and spoke;

“You should be ashamed, Metya spoke of courage, and heart, and you agreed with him, and straight afterwards, you descend into this pathetic behaviour. Yes Metya deserves to be a warrior, but no you don’t deserve to have him serve or represent you.”

The crowd continued muttering but showed no remorse for their behaviour, Metya and Ferwyn sighed, clearly their race was still obsessed with decadence and, some would say, corruption.

They left the arena, both proud of the other, Metya still carrying the injured cat, and Ferwyn holding a cloth to her cheek where she had been cut. Perhaps one day the night elves would break out of their destructive behaviour, or perhaps maybe, they wouldn’t.