If Stratagor Ziras doesn't kill me, my training program will!
Every day I wake up and go through the motions, but they've figured out that I'm not a Knight. I can't ride, I can't fight, I can't do magic, and worst of all, I can't see whatever it is...
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Trelix swings for my neck as I raise my shield. My ears ring from the clash of steel on steel that sounds like a car accident, and my arm goes numb as the jolt reverberates through my shoulder and down my spine. As soon as the pressure eases, I stand in the stirrups, lower my shield, and swing my sword. I connect with his horn as he races past.
I spin Stryder around, but Trelix has stopped and is trotting back to me with a smile on his face.
"That would have more of an effect if you didn't do it every morning," I say.
"Experience spawns complacency." When he reaches me, he adds, "I have a surprise for you in my office. Do you want it now, or do you want to wait until dinner?"
"Is it a good surprise or a bad surprise?"
He grins at me in a way that would best be described as devilish. I want to see whatever it is, but I don't want to rush into anything in case it's another weapon I have to learn or something equally as awful. After a moment of deliberation, I give in to my curiosity. "Okay, let's see it."
"Why did you pretend to think about it? We both knew you would go charging in there."
"I'm allowed my delusions. Maybe one day I'll learn self-control and surprise you."
When I walk into his office, I gasp. There's a beautiful suit of black armor standing on a rack in the center of the room. My heart races. Please be mine. It has to be. It's too big for an elf and too small for Trelix. I've seen lots of armor since I've been here. All the Guards wear it, and so do most of the visitors. Trelix often makes me wear various pieces, but I've never seen armor like this.
"Baladian dragon scale," Trelix says with pride. "This is the best. Usually takes a lifetime to make a suit. They must have had teams working day and night to get this done."
I circle the armor. "I can't believe this is for me."
From a distance it's like any other suit of armor, but up close, it's like fish skin, with tiny jagged scales covering the entire thing. When I run my hand down it the armor is smooth, but when I stroke upwards it's rough, like an emery board. I hope that its lack of ornate flourishes is a nod to my taste and not because whoever made it had to rush to get it done.
"See this?" Trelix holds up a white tunic with the black squares that match my shield. "Spider web."
I go from awe-filled to grossed out in two words. Trelix is holding the tunic up, waiting for me to touch it. I do, just to make him happy. I prepare for the sticky, skeevy feeling I always get when I walk through a web, but the tunic is silky-soft and not sticky at all.
"It's so lightweight. I'll rip it just putting it on."
He pulls his dagger out and stabs the fabric. I yelp in protest, but it's too late. When he pulls the dagger back, the fabric is fine. "Don't worry. You can't cut this stuff."
