The Flame Warden

Chapter 4: A Cause for the Lost

  The four travelers stopped that night, for the first of three nights they would stop between Jocco and Teran. Albrin and Omera made the fire, while Baynar played his flute, and Media cooked up some stew.

After they had all finished, they sat around the fire and relaxed.

"So," Omera began. "You really are the great Albrin?"

He nodded. "I swear. The last thing I remember was the Twisted One telling me he would put me away until he needed me again. Then I woke up in a cave in Giant's Cove."

"Well, forgive me if I have a hard time believing you." She paused and took a sip of tea. "I myself used to be a general in Lord Tavish's armies, about seventy miles south of here."

"Really?" Albrin said, surprised. "I'm surprised they allowed a woman to become such a high rank."

"Things have changed, Warden," she laughed. "The Code of Army Conduct was done away with once the Seized took over."

Albrin blushed, "Well, sorry for the misunderstanding, madam."

"You can do away with those formalities too. They are reserved for wealthy women."

"Ok..." Albrin frowned.

They continued chatting around the fire, sipping tea, eating soup, and passing Baynar's pipe around. Eventually, Albrin noticed a sword strapped to the side of Omera's horse. Omera herself already had a sword strapped to her side–was that just an extra one?

"Omera," he said, "is that sword being used?"

"It's just an extra," she replied. "So if you are wondering whether or not you can use it: I guess you can. I'm still not sure if I trust you, but if you attacked me it probably wouldn't be too hard to repel."

Baynar, who was in the middle of smoking, started coughing smoke from his mouth like a belching furnace. "I'm sorry," he said while wheezing, "but if he is truly the Flame Warden, his sword skills are said to be legendary."

Omera sniffed, "Fine then, shall we duel to test it?"

"I-well-I mean we could... I don't particularly ca–ok let's do it," Albrin said, stuttering everywhere.

"Tomorrow then," she said.

The next morning, the group ate and prepared to leave. As they pulled on their backpacks, Omera stopped them. "Wait, Albrin and I are going to duel first. I want to know if the stories are really true," she said.

She grabbed the extra sword from her horse's saddle and threw it to Albrin. His hands immediately grew sweaty. Damn it, Albrin! Why are you nervous? he thought. You have battled countless men and swordmasters. Why would you care now?

He knew the answer. It was because if he did lose, he would be mortally embarrassed. There was another reason, however: He no longer had the Eternal Fire within him.

A part of him understood how dumb it was to base his skills off his abilities, but he had fought under the influence of his abilities for the last five years.

Nevertheless, Albrin readied himself, feeling the weight of the sword. It was lighter and shorter than he was used to, but that might give him a slight advantage. Omera's sword was long and light, but if he got inside her guard, it would be over for her.

The two opponents began circling each other, both of them studying each other's stances. From what Albrin had learned of her so far, she was trained by a master swordsman for all six of her teen years, and she was twenty-eight. Sure Albrin was technically much older, but he only had about eleven years of sword expertise to her fifteen. This would not be easy.