Mysten: Part 1, Nicola Collings [read books for money .TXT] 📗

                She looked to her right and glimpsed the door that lead to the stores. But, why would someone be scared, and moreover, why would someone even be in the library at this time.

                Then she heard it.

                Yelling, and thundering of heavy footsteps, not scared, but angry!

                “Get him!” a deep voice yelled, and Ubi ran to the door, racing down the corridor, her only regret was that is slammed behind her.

                She didn’t think until she got to the stores, where she stopped, gasping in front of the rows of staffs and crystal stashes. Stumbling to the back of the room, she sank to the floor, letting out exhausted gasps.

                What was happening? Who were those people who came storming through the library? Part of her mind scoffed at them for causing such a ruckus, but the fighter in her wanted to scream and charge with everything she had!

                The door opened suddenly, and she covered her face, squealing in fright.

                “Ubi! Be calm!”

                The voice of her father. Her father was here? She squeezed her eyes shut.

                “Ubi, it’s me! Come now child, there’s not much time!”

                She opened her eyes. How was her father here? He was supposed to be on the other side of Mourning! He was tall, like any elf, yet his long black robes rimmed with gold embroidery were soiled with dirt and...was that blood?

                He reached for her, picking her up by her arms.

                “No Ubi! You’re going to have to listen. Put these around your tattoos!” he pushed a wad of bandages into her hands. “Take a staff and every crystal you can manage and run! They’re after the mages! Keep hidden! Fight if you can, but you have to get to Fayland! They will help you there! Ask for Vod! He will know you!”

                Ubi looked at him. She’d never seen him like this before, and she could only wonder as he ushered her from the room and back into the corridor, pushing a staff and a pouch of crystals into her hands. She stumbled in the direction he wanted her to go, looking back.

                “Go! Don’t worry about us, Ubi! Me and your mother love you! We both love you!”

                She nodded, the feeling finally returning to her limbs as she ran down the corridor and took flights of steps sown to the back entrance of the university, where the kitchens were. She hastily tied the pouch of crystals round her waist, stopping only to wrap the bandages around her tattoos. As she reached the door, she hesitated, hearing voices outside.

                The kitchens were a series of large rooms that echoed, and Ubi was extremely wary of knocking a metal pot and causing an almighty clanging sound. She delved into the pouch of crystals, searching for a Stealth crystal but finding nothing of the sort.

                She sighed, listening to the voices. Dwergi. Lots of them. Their blue skin glowed in the moonlight and the tips of their spears and swords sparkled.

                She could fight them. But she had no defence, no armour. She had defensive crystals, but then she’d have no offence! She could sneak around and risk getting caught and killed. She backed out of the kitchens and carried on down the corridor, going up a flight of steps she didn’t recognise.

                Finding a spike fire crystal, she slotted it into the top of the staff watching the wooden prongs tighten around it, infusing it.

                The top of the steps led to a small, wooden door. Before pushing it open she listened for a second, before deducing there was no one inside the room beyond.

                The room which Ubi had happened upon turned out to be a large room filled with anvils, hammers and tools used in smithing. It stank of metal and dust and Ubi hesitated before crossing the threshold. She never knew that the university supported smithing! She never even knew this room existed, having been living at the establishment for several years! But, if there was a smithing department...then maybe there’d be...

                There was an archway that led to a room beyond. Ubi was right! Armour! Rows and rows of Elven mage armour! Prefect!

                Finding a fit wasn’t the easiest thing to do, and Ubi couldn’t help but let her guard down a little as she rifled through bit of unwelded iron, searching for something her size. Granted, women didn’t often train to be Warrior Mages, but every so often, there’d be a skinny twig of a girl, and Ubi was hoping there would have been armour to accompany her.

                After a while Ubi almost gave up, when she spotted a pile of steel, behind a rack of helmets. The armour was small, tightly fitting, but didn’t restrict her movement. She thrust aside her scholar’s robe, revealing the bandages on her bare arms, and tied her long hair back, grabbing her staff and crystal pouch and fleeing back towards the kitchens.

                The Dwergi were still there, and suddenly, Ubi felt terrified, her legs turning to jelly. She gripped her staff, replaying a basic stance in her head and stepped into the light. The Dwergi instantly fell silent as they saw her approach.

                There was 4 of them, two had swords and shield, two had two handed swords; her mind raced as Ubi forgot what was happening and completely focused on how to kill them. Focus on the offensive- the two-handers- then take out the shields. Iron weapons and armour. Easily melted with a fire crystal.

                She fell into a battle stance and watched as the Dwergi with two-handed swords followed suit. The moment before they lunged, she saw their evil smiles, and Ubi was spinning out the way, sending a wave of flame in their direction. She sensed movement behind her, and she turned, spinning the staff and placing a wall of fire between her and the oncoming Dwergi.

                She turned back to the two-handers, one of which was nursing a burned arm. The other was lunging towards her with his sword. She brought her staff up and caught the blade, feeling the strength of the soldier pushing against her.

                She pushed upwards with her staff, sending the swipe over her head and following it with red-hot flames. The Dwergi screamed and Ubi turned to see the two with shield hesitate, before backing away.

                There was an unexpected surge of anger from somewhere within Ubi, and she pushed outwards, flames dancing in all directions.

                The Dwergi screamed and ran.

                She breathed out. How long had she been holding her breath for?

                She slipped out, into the night, the cold air against her warm skin, disappearing into the darkness as she ran.

                                                                                                *

                The war camp outside Faylandel was almost big enough to rival the city itself! Jax marvelled at it as the caravan came over the top of the grassy hill that looked down into the wide valley. To his left he could see the tops of the towers of the Faylandel Keep and the dark shadow of the city beneath it, although mostly obscured by foothills. From what Jax knew, as more soldiers were called to arms, the bigger the camp got, and the bigger it got, the more taverns, whorehouses, bakeries and fight pits started to pop up, not only to aid the soldiers awaiting orders, but to support the camp itself.

                “Look at it!” laughed Grayson from beneath his oversized helmet.

                “Pretty spectacular, huh?” said Ban, the Elf, whom Jax had fallen into conversation with several times over the trip. He was a mage warrior from the East Bay in Loutaar; his family were all mage warriors and had mostly been killed or captured. He claimed he’d joined the army to find his brother. Somehow, Jax thought that would be easier said than done, but he didn’t want to undermine the guy; Ban was built like a tower and might as well have been made of bricks, yet his demeanour was far from intimidating.

                Jax looked to the far end of the camp as they got closer and spied several large, extravagant tents before the tops of them disappeared as the caravan neared the bottom of the hill. Bayard’s quarters? The legendary war leader who governed the Faylandel war camp and had defeated the rebels in the Old War!

                Jax pictured himself fighting among the ranks on the front lines, under the command of Bayard, battling hundreds of Dwergi.

                The caravan made it’s way through the centre of the camp, stopping in a large central circle where the ground was mostly dust and the edge was rimmed with tents holding what looked like weapons of all kinds. Maybe it was usually where tournaments were held?

                The rookies were ushered from the carriages, and Jax and Grayson found themselves gazing up at a commander on horseback.

                “Rookies!” he shouted. Every rookie turned and looked up at him, a little straighter than normal. “You are no longer at home. You are no longer part of a peaceful village community! You are here to train, fight, and kill Dwergi! My advisor does not wish me to say it, but most of you probably will not make it home again! This simple truth- that you are likely to die- is one you must come to terms with quickly.” The commander was an elf who carried a sword at his waist and a shield on his arm. His face was thin and old, yet something told Jax he was younger than he looked. Most elves also had extremely long hair, yet this commander’s was short, part of it tied into a bun. It was strange to see an elf with short hair, in fact, Jax was sure he’d never seen such an oddity before.

                “My name is Serran! You will train in my sector. Those who came here hoping for an easy ride, you may as well leave. Those of you who came in the hopes of becoming heroes, you may as well leave too. Those of you hoping for gold to be sent to your families, think again! Training will not be easy, nor will be fighting Dwergi, but you are here for one reason and one reason only. To give your life, for the well being of the five Kingdoms!”

                With that, Serran turned his horse and kicked it in the opposite direction, away from the new recruits, who clapped uncertainly.

                “Well, he’s a cheery bastard, ain’t he?” whispered Grayson.

                Jax ignored Grayson, gazing after the squad leader. He’d never met someone so...so...badass! despite the grim details he spoke of, to Jax, he made war sound epic! He watched the pale brown horse disappear down the gap between tents, its rider becoming nothing more than a dark shadow.

                “I don’t like him.” Muttered Ban.

                “But he was so...awesome!” scoffed Jax in response.  “He looks like he’s seen more bloody battles than meals.”

                “And he probably has, but there’s something dark about him.” Ban furrowed his brow. Well, whatever they thought, Jax hoped he’d grow to be a soldier, somewhat similar to Serran one day.

                Training was harder than Jax had thought it would be. The barracks were old tents that housed around 12 recruits, tents that had holes that let about every drop of rain through, and all kinds of unwanted insect friends. The food, Jax had soon discovered, wasn’t from the makeshift village near the centre, but in fact consisted of rations like meat that was unidentifiable, vegetables that had obviously passed their prime and some sort of brown slop.

                The training itself had Jax up before sunrise, running drills and practicing none-stop with other soldiers who used close-range weapons.

                The rough, straw mat that somehow passed for a bed was a welcome sight at the end of the day. And the days weren’t exactly easy for Jax.

                Each recruit was required to memorise and practise the five basic battle stances for their chosen weapon. Following that, they were expected to become