Illara Chronicles: Swordplay

The Trial

The stable and Veylnward estate burned for nearly three days. The fire finally began to die, on the morning that the Bladewarden would come and present the trial. They had spent every moment that they could spare, readying themselves for that, and now stood fully equipped to head immediately to that event.

First though, they'd investigate the site of the fire.

The area around the yard was not just deserted, but avoided. Avoided by all but three young men, all too stunned to speak. The ground was still hot and the crackling embers that remained, formed a large perfect circle, where the stable had been. Inside of the circle was a "W" and a line bisected the whole shape horizontally.

"What ever did happen, to the Grellion?" Taldren waded into the silence.

Kelith was choked by guilt, and no response came.

Kendreth started into the ashes, rifling for any remnant of his parents, or their lives. In time he turned over a black iron skillet. It seemed that nothing else had survived the blaze. There wasn't so much as a horses bone that hadn't been reduced to black dust.

In some time though, he came up with a necklace. A band of silver cast around a blue azurite stone. Kelith watched as he placed the necklace against his lips. There was pain on his face as he placed a hand on those ashes. The buckles from his fathers boots were there...and the hand and a half hilt of a sword. Kendreth wrinkled his nose as he pulled a blade from the soot. He'd never spoken of his father keeping a sword.

The wind began to gust, and Kendreth looked back towards his friends. Streaks of sunlight illuminated the thin smoke around him. He wore chainmail under his linen shirt, with metal greaves and gauntlets that Sir Dentren had given him before they trained this morning. The red scarf around his neck caught the wind, he had his mothers necklace in one hand and his fathers sword in the other.

He looks more like a character from some myth with each sunrise.

When he came back to unscorched ground, Sir Dentren was approaching the group.

Again, he looked as tired as a man could, from his labored steps to his bloodshot eyes.

"The Warden, Flintlen, and his squire have arrived at the town hall. He was surprised to hear that so many would like to be tried, and he was quite glad to hear about you Kendreth. 'At last!' was his specific exclamation." His smile seemed forced.

"We shouldn't keep him waiting." Kelith had fought the idea of joining the Bladeward for so long, that he never realized how excited it made him feel. The idea of belonging to something so grand, having a chance to really help, the belonging, even the prestige all made his heart race.

   The Warden wore full plate armor, even his face was protected by a grated helm. His breastplate was emplazoned with Havenhelms crest. The face of a lion, looking straight on with its mouth closed, so its deadly fangs were tucked away. It was meant as a symbol for both strength and peace.

His squire wore similar armor, but there was no helmet to mask his straight face. The scarf that identified him as a squire was long and blue. His hair was black and fell just shy of the metal pauldrons on his shoulders.

"He looks like he's never laughed in all his life." Kelith snickered in Taldrens ear.

"Or he sat on an arrow." The response brought a harsh frown from Sir Dentren. Kendreth smiled with just one corner of his mouth.

A square had been set up, not unlike the one in the guard district, this time near the town hall and The Laughing Lion. Families waited there. Seeing his mother and his brother, who stood with a cane now, but still smiled and waved filled Kelith with hope. The feeling was immediately diluted by the idea that he was the last of his friends to have such a privilege.