Young Writers discussion
High Fantasy
>
A Tide Rising
date
newest »
newest »
Chapter 1:(view spoiler)[“Come in.” The woman who entered was old, her shoulders stooped and her frizzy hair turning white. I didn’t recognize her but that was becoming more and more common; to my chagrin, I’d made a name for myself in Freilla.
“Thank you for seeing me,” the woman said earnestly, taking a seat across from me. A sudden gust blew the shutters open and we were buffeted by winds so hot it was akin to steam.
“What’s your problem? Crops failing?” I eyed her quickly before continuing, “You’re from Renval. You traveled a long way to see me.” Freilla stretched from one coast to another, splitting Mirthbane in half and encompassing a diverse number of villages. Renval was at the base of the eastern mountains and relied on a small river to water their crops.
“Yes, yes. They said you’d see more than most and they were right,” the woman said, admiration in her tone. I nearly rolled my eyes. Most of Freilla disliked people like me even when they needed my assistance but Firdorn had grown used to me. I was tolerated. There were people spread throughout the free lands, though, that admired what I did. They were few in number but apparently one of them had found their way to my house.
“Payment is twenty laai.”
“Oh.” The woman’s face fell and she rummaged through her sack to pull out a coin purse.
“Do you not have it? I’d hate for your long journey to have been a waste.”
“No, no, I can pay it. Here.” She handed me the coins. As she put her purse away I heard no rattling of money within.
“That’s in order. Let’s get started. Hands out.” The woman obeyed and I grasped her palms in my own. Her pads were calloused and there was dirt under her nails that had likely been there for most of her life. The people of Freilla were nothing if not hard workers. They spent all of their time devoted to eeking life out of near-barren lands.
I closed my eyes and focused, reaching into the well of power within and extracting some of the power from the woman. Hers was waning; it had clearly gone unused for some time, maybe her whole life. It was possible she didn’t know she had it. The bias against magic ran deep in Freilla.
I felt her magic slip under the skin of my fingers. It lingered with my own, foreign and strange, but I forced them to meld. Releasing the woman’s hands I kept the power pooled in my hands and turned toward the empty jar I had ready. A small stream of water jetted from the tip of my index finger, then my middle, until the jar was filled. I released the magic and it slipped away into the ether.
“There.” I put a lid on the jar. “Use one drop per plant.” The old lady reached for it but I pulled back, frowning and staring at her. “This magic was done for you and you alone. It will work for your farm but if you water a single crop on someone else’s land with this, the whole field will burn. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, her eyes lighting up as I gave her the water. It immediately disappeared into her bag. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you what this means.” She smiled with such earnest her eyes became black slits and she reached out to take my hand. I stepped back.
“Have a safe journey home,” I said, ushering her to the door. Before I opened it I went to the table and retrieved three of the coins she’d given me. “Take these.”
“Oh, no, keep it. It’s a small price to pay for the lives of my family.” With that she opened the door and hobbled down to the main road. I closed and bolted it, thinking about what she’d said. Freilla had an unwritten contract with the northern realm of Eddelran, the rich lands where magic was revered. Eddelran was ruled by the Gentry, 4 powerful Elementals that represented the best of all four elements. They poured all of their impressive magic into the capital city of Nighall, which was famous for its beauty.
They were ruthless and called on Freilla when their own farms were short on crops because of all the feasts held in the capital. When that was the case, they gave little notice and sent a band of guards to retrieve the food. You had no choice but to give them what they asked for, even if it meant you had nothing left for your family. If your town couldn’t produce the right amount, people died. Ceir had been unable to fulfill the capital’s order and it had been wiped off the map.
Freilla also did business with Heathil, south of the free lands, but they were much less demanding. They hadn’t asked for a single thing since I’d moved to Firdorn two years ago.
The Eddelran guard had only come to collect once. I wasn’t a farmer so I didn’t have to be present in the town square, but I’d watched the proceedings from my rooftop. I’d seen the men and the horses swathed in crimson and gray march like a small army into the square, going from one stall to the other. The villagers-my villagers-had loaded the guard’s carts up and watched them leave. Later, I learned that they paid only fifteen laai for each stall.
As I bolted the shutters and got into bed, I thought about their coming visit. Ilda, the town crier of sorts, had received notice from the Gentry a week ago. This time they wanted all villagers present in the square and there was no question of hiding out at home. They would know if you weren’t present.
***
Heavy clouds watched over the proceedings as the horses clomped into the square. Inset on the chest of every guard was the Eddelran crest: a phoenix flying above, a salamander below, and a twisting current of water and wind splitting the two. I was situated between two vegetable stands in a clump of people, doing my best to blend in but instinctively averting my eyes as each horseman passed.
An eternity seemed to pass as the wares were surveyed. Not a single guard left his saddle or even looked at the villagers. A light drizzle turned the dirt beneath us into mud as I watched the lead guard circling around and stopping in front of Daal. She was the unofficial ruler of Firdorn, looked up to and respected. The guard dismounted and began speaking to her while she stood steadfast and unflinching. I tried to read what he was saying by her reactions but she showed nothing.
He got back on his horse and motioned to the others who spaced themselves quickly around the square. As one they said, “Load the carts.” All five hundred Firdorn villagers began moving the produce and I helped, keeping my head down. I walked the long way to avoid passing the guard on each trip and hoped no one noticed.
The rain picked up, dousing us all and plastering the guard’s surcoats to their armor. I waited for them to say we were done but the stalls got emptier and emptier and still they said nothing. Soon there would be no food left for any of us. Anger sprang to life in my breast but I checked it; no way could I risk saying something. The villagers around me were putting less into their boxes, clearly waiting for the same command I was, and I wanted to warn them. The guards would notice and they wouldn’t be kind.
“Don’t skimp,” I whispered to the others crowded around the cucumber stall. I filled my box and hoped the others did the same. A half hour passed and we were scraping the bottom of the barrel; there were only about fifty cucumbers left. A quick glance around the square told me others were in the same situation.
“Enough,” the lead guard called out. His voice echoed off the damp stone and we all sighed in relief. Each cart was covered with a tarp and then the horses were circling back around to the main gate. As each one disappeared my heart lifted more and as the last guard passed the Firdorn signpost, I smiled. (hide spoiler)]
Chapter 2:(view spoiler)[I smelled them before they breached the gate. I was lying on my thin mattress, trying to drift to sleep, when the scent of two magic wielders wrapped in metal and cloth approached the line of my property. I wasn’t sure who they were but it was obvious what they were after: me. I was on the other side of my little house in an instant, pushing the window open as quietly as possible.
There was enough space for me to squeeze through and I threw a leg over, inhaling in the direction of the front yard. There was only one of the men approaching my door and ice pierced through my body. Where was the other? Legs free, I twisted my torso through and moved my head back just in time for a sword to slice through the air my neck had just occupied. As soon as my feet hit the ground I turned, bounding toward the cover of trees. They weren’t going to get me to fight out there where everyone could watch.
I heard and smelled my pursuer and he was faster than I expected. Though I didn’t risk turning and looking I knew when the second one came around the corner and quickly joined the chase, his scabbard beating a fast rhythm against his thigh. Pulling up an aura I hurtled over the back fence and breached the tree line in seconds, pumping my arms as fast as I could. Ideally I would make my stand just beyond the river.
Something whipped past my head and embedded itself in a tree. I couldn’t make out what it was as I sprinted by, though it was small and shining in the moonlight. Knowing there would be more where that came from I started zigzagging, dancing around the path I’d previously beaten through the woods on my many visits to the river. I muttered a quick spell and water shot out of my heels, flooding the path behind me.
Just a little farther and I could turn and fight rather than run. I’d been running for two years and the chance to redeem myself, even in this small way just this once, sang through my blood. It was clear that my pursuers were Eddelran guards, because coincidences didn’t exist. I may have thought them bounty hunters if the guards hadn’t just been in Firdorn the day before.
My zigzagging was working, as was the river I was leaving my wake. I heard a thud and a curse before the two split off the path, one on each side. They threw more metal weapons and I dodged them easily, sensing them now that I knew what to look out for. The river bubbled up before me and I ran even faster, bare feet snapping twigs and leaves as I moved.
Having had enough, one of the guards dropped his sword to the ground and I felt that familiar crackling of magic in the air. Seeing no other choice, I dug down into my bones in search of my own elemental power. I listened, marking the positions of each pursuer, before letting the magic seep from my skin. I called to mind icy daggers and they formed in my hands as I turned to face my attackers while at the same time dismissing my protective aura.
Caught by surprise, the guard on the right faltered in his summoning and it was all I needed. The dagger flew from my hand, embedding itself in the soft skin of his inner thigh just beyond the reach of his chausse. He collapsed to his knees as his partner swung his sword at me for a second time. I parried with my dagger, throwing his powerful swing off-kilter and leaving a small opening. I jabbed with all the force I could muster, disabling his left arm as the ice cut through the tendons in his shoulder. I knew Eddelran armor well enough, having examined the guards in the square, to see its weaknesses. It left too many joints exposed and was more suitable for ranged attacks, not melee.
By that time, the first guard had taken my blade from his leg and thrown it to the ground where it dissolved into the dirt. The air crackled again as he summoned his power and I didn’t have time to twist out of the way before a blast of hot, raw wind knocked me back. I hit the ground with a painful thud, the air knocked from my lungs. A sharp rock stabbed my spine but I willed myself into action, rolling out of the way as the second guard advanced. He hadn’t resorted to using magic, probably thinking his sword and little trinkets would be enough to disable me, but I felt it coursing through his veins as he stomped toward me. Heat sizzled the night around him, smoke curling from his nostrils. I scrambled to my feet and ignored the wound in my back. The first guard came to the elbow of the second and then stopped. Both of them just stood there, their breathing heavy, and confusion hit me as there was the sound of creaking branches above me.
I looked up in time for a shadow to drop down from the overhead tree and coil a thick rope around my neck. Something hit the top of my head and blackness overtook me. (hide spoiler)]
A disgraced assassin looking for a purpose. A king struggling against a bloodthirsty rival. A land on the edge of war, where the gods have gone and magic rules all.
The land of Mirthbane has been building to a war for the last 2,000 years, and Aurea Thornbrow is the match that must start the fire. Tasked with infiltrating the rebel lands and assassinating the king, Aurea must find a way to fulfill her duties without losing her life.
What the loyal assassin never expected was for her faith to be shaken. There is more in the rebel country than meets the eye.