Forgotten Heir: Realm Doors Book One

Chapter Five

A/N: Please be aware that self-harm does feature in this chapter. I will put a * midway through the chapter, before that section begins, and if you feel it may be inaporopriate for you to read, you can skip the rest of the chapter.

Kalidir woke her early the next day, apologising profusely. “I’m sorry princess, but time is short and now you’re rested we need to begin the trials.”

Blinking up at him in a way that clearly expressed that her befuddled half-consciousness, Cara didn’t understand a word he’d just said.

“What?” she moaned at him, most un-ladylike.

“My deepest apologies, my lady,” he tried again, “but there are some tests we must complete before beginning your training. I’ve brought a bowl of water for you to wash, and there’s tea and toast for breakfast.”

He peered expectantly through the gloom at her, his bronze eyes glowing in the half light of the stables.
“Tests?” she mumbled. “Training?”

With her fuzzy grey matter finally starting to judder into life, Cara wasn't convinced she liked what he had to say.
“Yes, my princess,” Kalidir affirmed softly, apparently having forgiven the previous night’s outburst. Or perhaps he’d just pushed it away to concern himself with later.

Cara groaned again, shoving back her sleeping bag and rolling groggily off the camp bed. The elf warrior averted his eyes from her thin body clad in its worn blue nightie as she forced herself into awareness.

“For goodness sake, Kalidir, stop calling me princess and lady, call me Nekyra or Kyra or Cara, but anything other than some high title I’m not ready to accept.” His abashed look didn't deter her as she ranted on, “and please get out of here so I can get dressed.”

Once her tirade had ended, he hastily bowed before striding with elvish grace from her stall.

Cara rubbed the sleep from her eyes and dowsed her face in the lukewarm water. The toast and tea were already cold by the time she finished dressing, but at least it was food, real food. Today, she was going to be tested, then, later, she hoped her ‘protectors’ would tell her exactly what they expected of her.  She wondered if she should be afraid, or angry, or upset at her predicament, but with the existence she'd experienced so far, it was just one more day to her. A day where she was, at least, guaranteed food.  That didn’t always happen.

Ric is remained fast asleep as she passed his stall, but then it was morning and he had no reason to be up. The three vials of elahdril blood still lay beside him, unopened, a sight which cheered her a little.

Further down, Luke and Anthony were also sleeping, silent and still, corpse like. Luke stretched lazily out on blankets, choosing the floor rather than a narrow camp bed.  He was confident, even when asleep. Anthony lay on his side, curled up, arms wrapped around his chest and frowning, and Cara wondered if he had been born worried.

Stepping into the barn, she caught sight of Kalidir, seeing him properly now her groggy eyes had woken up. He’d dressed in a loose linen tunic and heavy leather trousers, a combination which looked both rustic and otherworldly. Thick leather guards shielded his forearms, each one emblazed with a falcon, the symbol of Rhynlas. To bear such crests he must’ve worked directly for my family, and she wondered how long he'd been among their guards.

The elf warrior gripped a glinting sword. The pommel was spiked with silver and inlaid with apple wood, so if necessary it could act as a stake. The perfectly forged steel blade was sharp and engraved with elahdril script, each letter filled in with more silver. Silver, the only metal that, when driven through the heart of a vampire or wolf, will kill them instantly.

Kalidir drilled himself, working through a routine of thrusts and strikes that would keep him alive, unaware of Cara as she stood, not quite through the door. Cut, block, move, thrust, block, twist. His pace quickened and his deadly dance fascinated her, even before magic flared through the sword. She saw it sparking dangerously with each lightning move. The glowing, flickering, flaring fire danced through Kalidir’s muscles until he shone with it.

The sorcery of the elahdril guard was astonishing to witness. While all elves were warriors, few succeeded in becoming guards such as Kalidir obviously was. The magic he used kept him balanced in impossible moves, added speed and strength to his blade, and accuracy to his aim.  The air around him came alive with snaking streamers of magic wherever his blade passed.

Cara sensed her pulse speeding as she watched him, feeling the fire start to burn in her core and seep into her limbs. Her legs ached with the desire to twist and turn as Kalidir did. He hands smouldered with the desire to grasp a blade or a bow and send magic flaring through it. She felt every particle of her body vibrating with an energy she'd never known before. Never before had she felt the enchantment in her veins so fully. Twice, she used her magic in defence of those she loved, but she’d never understood it before. She understand this, though, her craving to wield a weapon and defend those weaker than herself. Her heart thundered as she gaped open mouthed at Kalidir, until the thrill in her vein threatened to burn me alive.

As a gasp of awe finally shuddered out of her, Kalidir stopped, spinning to face her in surprise.

“I apologise my lady,” he smiled with a small bow of his head. “I mean... Nekyra, I didn’t see you there.”

In response, she could barely utter another gurgle of admiration. Her limbs were still throbbing and when she looked at her arms they were alight with the same magic as sparked around Kalidir. He couldn't see it. He didn’t have her sight. All the same, he could sense it. He could hear her thundering heart and understand her wide eyed stare. Pushing the hilt of another sword into her hand, he grinned as she gripped the weapon instinctively, confidently.

“So,” he told her, still beaming, “you have a warrior’s soul after all. A true Rhynlas. When you arrived so weak yesterday I doubted it would be so.” He’s swung his sword through the air, letting it swish gracefully around him as he spoke. “You feel it, yes? The magic that holding a weapon brings, that stepping the dance of war brings?”

Cara nodded, still speechless, still breathless with the unexpected rush of power.

“Then let this be your first test.” Kalidir brought his sword down towards her head, and she spun away just in time, instinct guiding her feet. “Remember your blade!” he yelled, and she brought it up, just in time to deflect his next blow.

He stepped lightly around her and she dropped, rolling to avoid a blow to her back. Time seemed to have slowed down, and it seemed to Cara that she could count every millisecond it took Kalidir to adjust his aim, to reposition his body and lunge again. She could calculate precisely how much time it would take to block or duck out of his way. Seeing an opening, her intuition told her to move closer, to attack. The flames licking her sword flared brighter as she cried out a battle cry and twisted in under Kalidir’s defences. With a shout of his own, he dropped to the floor, sending her flying over his shoulders. She rolled easily and is back on her feet in one fluid movement, ready to leap back through the air towards him.

Her hair whipped about her as she flew around Kalidir, away and back again. Their swords rang out as they clashed once, twice, three times, over and over. For the first time in her life, Cara felt strong. She felt invincible. She knew her glamour had fallen again, as she became caught up in the fierceness of the elahdril magic flowing so effortlessly through her. 

She ducked out of Kalidir's way again, but not quite fast enough. The tip of his blade skimmed her shoulder lightly, drawing blood, stinging. As she tried to turn, he knocked her feet out from under her, pointing his blade at her throat as she panted up at him.

“Never get over confident,” he commanded and she noted that he showed none of the signs of exhaustion that she did.

Cara nodded. She would remember.

Kalidir offered his hand and she grasped it thankfully as he helped her to her feet.

“You’ve never held a sword before?” he asked and she shook my head. He smiled, congratulating her, “You did remarkably well. This magic comes naturally to you; you will be a great warrior if you practise.”

Laughing, Cara felt elated, so high she didn’t mind that Kalidir could’ve killed her, or that she'd lost. Although the sorcery had begun receding back into her core, she still felt energised. She wanted to run, and jump, and... she didn’t know ... fly or something. Until she heard Ric move behind her, where he’d been leaning in the shadows.  His gaze was approving as he peeled himself sinuously from the doorframe.

“When the time comes you will offer a graceful death to those who stand against you.”

That statement made, he spun on his heel and stalked out, leaving her to wonder just how long he’d been watching. Had he really been asleep when sh’d looked in on him earlier?

Kalidir’s eyes followed Ric’s retreat with curiosity.

“He appreciates our art,” he noted softly.

“He told me once that he’d been a soldier, centuries ago, in the first war of the three realms,” Cara answered. “Ric only mentioned it in passing, he didn’t seem to want dwell on it. I know he was using a different name then, Ulrich Bernstein I think.”

“Ulrich Bernstien?” Kalidir looked awestruck. “General Ulrich Bernstein?”

She shrugged. “I think so, but like I said, he doesn’t talk about it often.”

“How the mighty fall,” her teacher replied, still gazing at the place Ric had been standing. “I cannot hope to be half the warrior he was once.”

Running her fingers through her hair, Cara twirled stray strands around her fingers as she considered his admiration.

“He was famous?”

“He was the most famous,” came the awed reply. “He did fantastic things, single-handedly destroyed more were-wolves than many of the legions his kind and ours sent to fight them. After vampires and elahdril began to fight each other, rather than the wolves alone, his sire commanded him to attack our villages. He left her army rather than doing so. He joined another legion, one which would not go on the offensive against the elahdril, but who would only kill elves if we struck out at them first. He was on the vampire council back then, he helped to negotiate the Treaty of London.

“After the fighting grew old he helped restore the tentative peace between the worlds. When rumblings of discontent returned he refused to wield a sword again, he wouldn’t send our worlds spiralling back into battle. It was all before my time, I was a day old baby the day the treaty was signed, but the stories were always there. Forbidden legends we were banned from speaking, after all, no vampire can a just hero according to our traditions, but the tales where still whispered around camp fires and the training yards of the guard.”

“He could fight to keep the Realm Doors open,” Cara murmured, her thoughts weighing on her. Why wouldn’t he fight for Blutholme again if he’d had so much power before? “But he doesn’t.”

“He disappeared, vanished into his own world for centuries, until no one recognised him.” Kalidir took her sword, returning it to a weapons chest in the corner. “Then six years ago, a message was sent to our leaders, signed Ulrich Bernstein, asking the elahdril to help his brethren. Five and a half years ago their where rumours that the great hero of the wars would return. Then five years ago all whispers of Bernstein’s return suddenly died. I assume that’s when he became addicted to our blood, when he fell into the turmoil he now suffers.”

Kalidir’s words chilled her. ‘No,’ she thought guiltily. ‘Five years ago I told him what I was and he fled’.

“What’s the next test?” Cara asked sharply, struggling to stifle the remorse which welled, making it hard to breathe or speak. A lump formed in her throat and an ache in her eyes. Everything was her fault.

Kalidir studied her expression silently for a second, before guiding her towards the benches by the fire and letting the subject of Ric go.

“I assume you know we feed on life, on the energy of everything surrounding us. We aren’t like vampires, we don’t need to drink blood to ingest energy we simply absorb it from around us without even noticing we’re doing it. Sure, we need to eat and drink, though some of the more ancient elahdril can severely limit their food supply with no negative consequences. The life force we draw into ourselves fuels our magic and our immortality. Remember that as we move onto the next tests. If you feel yourself weakening or lacking in strength, focus on your surroundings; the earth under the floor, the insects buried within and the roots of the trees and plants. Open your mind to their energy and let it flow into you.”

He pulled out a pack of cards, saying, “Now, on each of these there’s a picture. I’m going to focus on them one at a time. Without looking at the cards you’re going to tell me what picture is on the card I’m currently thinking about. You're going to read my mind.”

He studied the first card and Cara could do nothing but stare blankly at him. After a few moments he leaned back expectantly, asking “Well?”

Shaking her head, her hands spread in front of her, she admitted, “How am I supposed to do this?”

The task was daunting; Kalidir’s mind was his own and she had no idea how to access it. The sword had felt natural, but mind reading felt impossible.

“Clear your mind, draw power from the same place as before, focus it on me.”

She tried to obey, pushing thoughts from her mind as they appeared and trying to feel down into her core, to where the sorcery she'd used earlier lay dormant. She couldn’t find it. She couldn’t sense the spark and flame that had risen so easily before. Her brow creased in concentration, but three hours later she still frowned at Kalidir, mentally exhausted. No matter what how hard she tried, she couldn’t read his mind, and she couldn’t feel any energy flowing into her from the earth either.

Slumping in the chair, Cara shrugged in defeat. She hid behind her human face again, cowering behind the mask I’d started weaving all those years ago, unable to bear wearing her true face while so inept.

“Nevermind,” Kalidir consoled her. “Some never grasp mind reading. I’ve never know an elahdrilas fail,” he continued, somewhat uninspiringly, “but there could be reasons. Perhaps, with time, it’ll come to you.”

‘Well thank you, Kalidir, for making me feel so much better,’ she though despondently.

He noted the overwhelming sense of failure creeping through her, though, and added comfortingly, “Really, it’s just a tiny glitch.”

However, it turned out to be a huge glitch, which became quickly apparent as Kalidir tried unsuccessfully to get her to use telekinesis to lift objects, to light fires with magic, to do any sorcery at all. Tears of frustration prickled her eyes as she failed, yet again, to get water to boil without a flame. Sat in the huge barn, hunkered on the dirty rug which had been thrown down in front of the fire, she miserably watched smoke rise lazily to gather under the badly maintained roof and escape out through the holes, giving up.

Kalidir’s rubbed his chin worriedly as he too watched the smoke, nervous, perplexed by her complete and total lack of ability. Cara became introspective again as they sat considering her ineptitude. She was silently basking in her own pitiful worthlessness as Luke and Anthony strolled in, stretching lazily, just having woken up.

“So”, Luke grinned, looking between them, “how’re the tests going?”

Leaping onto her feet, Cara pushed angrily past him and out into the snow, not giving her tutor the opportunity to reply. The desire to run away was stronger than she'd anticipated. On her own, she could face her flaws and failings. In front of other people? She couldn’t bare the disappointed glances, the scowls of disgust that mirrored the way her aunt had so often looked at her. Still, she should've prepared a little, before escaping out into the wilds.