Gifted [UNEDITED]

Chapter Six

"Commons and Raegbloods, tonight is your induction ceremony," Commander Zirel started, "some of those you started the journey with are not here today, some ran, some left, and some were expelled."

He looked around, as if waiting for someone to speak. There was silence, loud silence fell on the hall, then an elf on the right flank started humming the Miaddrian Army anthem.

"You there, stand up," the commander told him. He stood up slowly, careful not to make any more noise.

"When did you join the academy", he asked the elf.

Eznarim stared at him with a blank expression on his face. His grey eyes went wandering around the hall, he quickly forgot where he was and started admiring the drawings on the ceilings.

"Answer me!" the commander thundered. He was now standing, his full height was now very visible. He was of average height, a little slender, and a little stout.

Eznarim was quickly jerked out of his engulfment, he was a little startled. "Last winter sir", the young elf answered, almost shaking.

"And how old are you?"

"Sixteen sir, I'll be seventeen by the end of the summer."

The commander looked at him, examining his features. He had a great body build, broad shoulders and puffed chests, he wasn't so tall, and his hairline was already receding. His academy uniform clung tightly to his body, and he had a fairly big pot belly.

"How can you be sixteen with those beards on your face", Zirel asked, tugging at his not so full beards, stretching from ear to ear.

"I don't know sir", the elf answered, trembling already. Balls of sweat started forming on his forehead.

"Are you scared?", Zirel asked.

"The brown elf is scared!", he exclaimed. The entire hall burst into laughter, because brown elves were usually considered lower class.

"I'm not scared!", Eznarim thundered. Silence gradually fell on the hall, the whispers died out slowly and the commander stared at him.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm not scared."

"Oh. I see, you're not scared", the commander sneered. He pulled his belt and struck Eznarim on his back. "Are you scared now?", he asked again, a sinister smile gradually building up on his face.

"I'm still not scared", he answered. Faint whispers filled the air, and some other elves in Eznarim's class started banging their cups against the tables.

Zirel struck him again, again, and again. He struck him once more, till Eznarim was bleeding.

The banging got louder and louder, Zirel sneered at the elves and silence fell again. Eznarim was still standing, breathing heavily with his brows lowered. He clenched his jaw and pushed the air towards Zirel, almost immediately the commander started wincing and turning.

Eznarim raised his hand, and the commander started shouting. He held his head, and was screaming like a mad dog. Some soldiers around rushed to Eznarim and held him down, immediately the commander heaved a heavy sigh.

"Kill that elf! Kill him! Kill him now!", Zirel shouted. Holding his chest, and still breathing heavily. He rushed towards Eznarim but some soldiers held him back.

"Take him to the officer's qaurters", one of the soldiers commanded. "Lock him up in the dark room, give him no food and water till his induction ceremony", he said, pointing at Eznarim.

This wasn't the first time Eznarim was being sent to the dark room. Infact Keeper Goram was already accustomed to his visits, just last full moon he got into a fight, and was brought to the dark room.

One pale skinned elf had smacked Eznarim first, he was much bigger, and was in a higher class. He had called Eznarim a devil from the underworld, "how can an elf be brown like you?", he asked.

"There are other brown elves around, just that we're very few. Some of us are even in high positions, some may even consider us rare," Eznarim answered, hoping to defend his color.

"Shut up! My father said brown elves were sent from the underworld. He said one day, you will all kill us in our sleep."

"Your father is wrong, we're not from-"

Almost too suddenly, Eznarim heard a loud thwack on his face. He retaliated very quickly, hitting him in his eyes, the young elf was not one to take a hit lying down.

"My eyes! The daemon has blinded me!", the elf exclaimed, attracting some soldiers around.

"What happened here?", one soldier asked.

Before Eznarim could speak, the elf had already started narrating his own side of the story, leaving out the fact that he hit Eznarim first. The soldier didn't wait to hear anymore, he hit Eznarim with the hilt of the sword, knocking him out. By the time he opened his eyes, all he could see was darkness.

Half an hour before the induction ceremony, Eznarim was released from the dark room. "Don't let them put you down. No matter the punishment always stand up for yourself", Keeper Goram told him. He nodded as the soldiers hustled him away.

Eznarim walked to his quarters, all the while thinking about the incident. He had promised his parents never to use his gift in that manner, "but he provoked me", the elf mumbled, killing every sense of remorse that crept up his heart.

The few minutes before the ceremony were beautiful for Eznarim. He had dreamt of this night for as long as he could remember. "I'd become a soldier and rise to prominence," he always told his mother. She would laugh, and hug him tightly, "and build us a big castle," she would always say.

Now tonight was the night, the long awaited induction ceremony. The academy elves gathered in the large hall again, this time for the ceremony. Some of these elves were about thirty at most, and eighteen at least. Eznarim was one of the youngest, he had picked up in class very quickly and was promoted class after class.

The general himself was present, so was the High Councillor. The priest was present too, the commanders of the Western and Eastern borders and Councillor Ignarim were all present.

There was chattering in the hall, which grew into incessant murmuring. The priest stood up, and silence immediately lingered in the air. He was dressed in a white gown, with gold linings. He had several expensive rings on his fingers, some rubies, and some diamonds.

"The induction ceremony will now begin", he announced, raising his hands. The candles around were immediately put out, and the Temple elves started walking around carrying incense.

The priest waited a while before speaking, he wanted the atmosphere to sink in. And the incense to cover the air. "Oh! Celestial King!", he started.

"Guide our youths, guard their minds, and grace their souls. Help them through their service."

He clapped, and some elves carried in The Red stone on a golden ark, decorated with diamond stones on the edges. The elves who carried it were also dressed in gold, short robes tightened around the waist by a leather belt with a bronze head.

"Repeat after me," he said to the crowd of academy elves in Miaddrian Army uniform. He stretched his hands towards the stone, and they did same.

"Oh Celestial King, guide my soul. Be with me, stay with me, go with me. Never forsake me Oh King," the priest said and the crowd repeated.

"I hereby pledge myself to the service of my country, my people and my leaders."

After the rituals, the stone was taken away. The High Councillor came forward with a few words of encouragement, "as you step into these shoes," he began.

"Remember where you came from. Do not forget your training and discipline. Always remember what the Miaddrian Army signet says 'a soldier must always obey without question', don't ever forget this."

The words were greeted with endless applause, they were moved by his composure, considering the fact that he had lost all his four sons in battle.

After a few minutes, the clapping subsided. The General came forth with a list of names and their designations, Eznarim heard several names before his. Some of them were sent to the borders, some were assigned to households, some were assigned to the City watch, some were assigned to the Den, some were assigned to villages, and others to the reserve.

Eznarim was assigned to Councillor Borath's household. When he heard his name and his designation he was overjoyed, Councillor Borath was in charge of the treasury. If he played his role well, the Councillor might take him as one of his children.

"New recruits, as the High Councillor has said, don't ever forget your training. The new shoes you're about to fill will require your commitment and loyalty, betrayal to the Army is death. The world is not like your class, the enemy, and the criminals have no honor, no one will wake you up early in the morning anymore. You're on your own, if you slack, you will immediately be expelled from the Army. You have made it this far, to be expelled will bring shame to your families," after giving his long speech, the general waited for applause, but there was none. Then he stomped his chest and said "For the elven blood knows no fear!"

The entire hall chorused it and all the new recruits burst into a frenzy. Everyone was dancing, drinking, shouting. One by one, all the prominent elves left the hall to the recruits. It was truly a night for celebration for them.

Eznarim was too excited to celebrate. He could only think of the missions he was going to embark on, the calls he was going to answer. He left the hall after minutes of drinking and staring, he decided the place was too rowdy to process his adventurous thoughts.

"You should be inside," a voice said to him. He was sitting on bare grass, staring at the stars, the moon, and the clouds. Just a fair distance away, the owls were hooting, and the crickets were singing.

"I could say the same for you too," he answered.

"No. My time has passed. This is not my celebration, I still remember mine very well. Like it was yesterday," the figure answered, setting himself down beside him.

"When was your time?" Eznarim asked in curiousity.

"Last winter. The Academy isn't what it used to be. Usually the induction ceremony happened during the winter. Perhaps the Council has a good enough reason for bringing it to the summer."

"Perhaps," he added. He pulled a leather skin bag from his uniform, it was small enough to fit, but just big enough to satisfy. "My name is Eznarim," he told the elf, handing him the bag after sipping a little from it.

"Domrath," the elf told him, pulling his own bag.

They both laughed after they sipped from their bags. "Tomorrow your work begins," Domrath told him.

"I know, and I'm excited." Eznarim replied, his voice had turned crispy from the wine.

"Try getting some sleep,"

"I'll try. You should too." Eznarim stood to his feet, and staggered towards his quarters. "My last night in my quarters," he murmured.

The next morning, he and two other elves rode to Borath's castle. The ride was long, and boring. The elves refused to talk to Eznarim, "you're a brown bat," they said to him. He said nothing to them, the elf was too good in a mood to be pissed by them, besides they were older. But that never stopped Eznarim from speaking his mind.

"A brown bat that's blind, but still knows what the white birds know, and more," was his reply. He kicked his elk and broke off a little farther from them.

Before the sun was at the peak of it's heat, the elves were at the castle. Borath welcomed them with open arms, he hugged them like sons. That night there was drinking everywhere, to welcome the new addition to the "family".

"We're all family," Borath always said.

There was no music, but the place was oddly loud. The soldiers were chanting, some of them were dancing, stomping their feet on the ground, and some were banging their cups. The rhythm of the frenzy lasted till midnight, by then they were all tired. Borath retired to bed early, after telling the soldiers of his war exploits, and his experiences on the front lines.

Eznarim held a cup in his hand, looking around, observing the other elves. He took a sip from his cup every now and then, refilling it anytime it went halfway. Suddenly, his wandering eyes caught a familiar sight, it was Domrath.

He downed the cup too quickly, and if he had drank a little more, he would have choked. He rushed to meet his friend, an unusual smile on his face.

"Domrath!", he called out. Immediately Domrath turned Eznarim greeted him with a tight hug.

"Hey," Domrath started, still trying to remember where he had met the elf before him. He stroked his chin for a second and half, Eznarim interrupted his thinking and said, "it's me- from last night."

Domrath laughed and hugged him back, he pulled away and looked at the elf to be sure he was the one, then hugged him again.

They talked for hours on end, one would have thought they were brothers or really close friends. Both elves had had too much to drink, and were not in their right minds. Their conversation centered around wine, gold, and more wine, each elf telling of his experience with wine, and gold.

Domrath narrated how he was assigned to a carriage full of gold. "There were over a hundred bandits. I singlehandedly slayed them all with my bow and arrow," he told Eznarim. The young elf nodded slowly, with his mouth half open. After the story, there was silence. Until Domrath spoke again.

"Want to hear something crazy?" Domrath asked.

"Yes," was the reply.

"Tonight, my brother, Kamirel, and I are going to raid some hideouts."

"Whose hideouts?"

"The Voice's," answered Domrath with a mischievous smile on his face. His eyeballs went to the side of his eye, and his teeth were half exposed.

"The general gave strict orders not to follow up on the case till further notice. Even the Academy elves were warned."

"I told Kamirel too. But he said 'we can't just sit around while innocents die by the hundreds'. Do you agree with him?"

"Yes, of course. They shouldn't be allowed to go scott free."

"Then come with us, we'll do well with an extra sword," Domrath told the young elf, he stood up and staggered before standing still. The alcohol was talking again.

"Yes. Yes. It will be good, we will be praised, Lord Borath would be very proud of us," Eznarim replied, he too was on his feet, smiling as the words dropped from his mouth. He too had alcohol dancing along his words.

The two elves hurried to the armory, as drunkards would run, zig zag, then straight, then zig zag again. "They're already waiting," Domrath told Eznarim as he counted the last arrow and put it in his quiver.

"We'd better hurry," the elf answered, sampling his spear, examining it as if it were gold.

Silently they took two elks from the stables and rode to Kamirel and Gnorath. The journey was longer than usual, because the elves had to travel through the woods for fear of running into patrolling soldiers in the Southern Isle.

"You're late," Kamirel told him, sniffing the forgery air. "Who's the elf, why'd you bring him here?"

"He wanted to come along," Domrath answered, smiling like a child who had just been caught doing something wrong.

"Domrath. You're stupid. Why would you bring just any elf to a secret mission? How are we sure he can be trusted?" Gnorath asked, staring at his brother with his lips pressed.

"He can be trusted," Domrath assured.

"How are you sure?" Kamirel asked him, his voice now in a whisper.

"We've had a conversation", Domrath said, he raised two fingers and said "twice," smiling again.

Eznarim didn't pay much attention to their talks. His thoughts were on the mission at hand, it was his first real mission, even though unauthorized. It was the first time he would be facing the enemy, and not just some Academy elf.

After much debate, Eznarim was allowed to come along. The four elves left the forgery to one of the hideouts, jumping from roof to roof as silently as they could.

Eznarim nearly fell from one of the roofs, he was trying too hard to keep up with the speed of the older elves.

"Take it easy," Kamirel told him. They had all come to a stop on one of the roofs, and Eznarim was breathing heavily.

"I told you. We shouldn't have brought him," Gnorath complained.

Domrath placed a hand on his brother's shoulder hoping to pacify him. But Gnorath shrugged him off. "Are you in your right mind now?" he asked. There was no answer.

In the silence, Kamirel heard a whoosh. An arrow passed his ear and landed behind him. Again the whoosh came, this time the arrows were more than one. "Brace yourselves," he told the others, as he pulled his sword. "On my count we attack them from the flanks and-"

Before he finished talking, Eznarim had already charged into the crowd of rebels holding his spear behind his back. He jumped from their roof and on to the enemy's, stabbing one of them in the chest as he landed. One of the rebels aimed at him, but before he fired, Domrath fired two arrows in his head.

Kamirel charged at the rebels, his cold steel reflecting the moonlight. With the speed of light, he cut through the rebels, giving them ugly scars on their necks.

Gnorath kept missing his targets. He missed the first shot, the second, and even the third. Domrath kept covering for him, hitting the targets he missed. But he couldn't keep it up for long, the numbers grew and the four soldiers were growing tired. Gnorath missed a shot again, this time Domrath was slow to hit the target so the rebel shot his brother's left shoulder. It was Eznarim who drove his spear through the heart of the assailant.

"Let's move! My brother's been hit!" Domrath yelled. Eznarim lifted Gnorath, while the other two covered him, when he had ran a considerable distance they followed, Domrath stopped every now and then, firing shots at the enemy.