Slayer

  “Good.” Algonge was walking towards them, shielding the sun from his eyes, and as Thetra drew closer, he saw that Algonge was drawing his sword. “Would you like to fight?” he asked Thetra.

  “Well, you are a good swordsman, and I need to practice with the rookies first, then I shall make my way up to fighting soldiers like you.”

  “Ah, I see.” Then Algonge pointed his sword at Arek. “Would you like to have a go?” he asked him.

  “Aye,” responded Arek. “I would like to train with you.”

  SPARRING

  As Arek drew Stabber, Algonge told them that his sword’s name was Exterminator. He flashed it and the blade shined brightly, reflecting the sunlight.

  Both fighters looked ready to battle in their sparring positions. Thetra thought Algonge’s to be rather awkward, but he kept silent, knowing that everyone’s position was unique. He also remembered that a strange position may be a better position than their opponent’s.

  Arek’s face looked determined that he would win the fight, but Algonge’s did as well. Thetra knew that he wanted to see Arek defeat the newcomer, but he didn’t believe in his brother nearly as much as he wanted him to win.

  As the first blow took place, being Arek’s, Thetra felt something jump inside him. The start of a new battle. He watched as Exterminator dominated Stabber, leaving Arek to fall to the ground after three exchanged hits.

  Algonge looked at Arek in disbelief. “I didn’t expect it to be this easy,” he muttered, just in Thetra’s earshot. “I thought…since he is the brother of the Dominator, that maybe he might stand a chance. A big chance.”

  “Algonge, he doesn’t surrender very easily,” Thetra told him. “He will most likely get back up and fight, knowing him.”

  “Well, stand up,” Algonge said, looking at Arek. “If what your brother tells me is true, you haven’t lost yet.”

  Arek gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the dirt, his whole back covered in soil. He raised Stabber high and brought down the blow, slicing Algonge’s side.

  Algonge howled and bit his lip. “You know I don’t have armor on.”

  Arek smirked. “I do.” Then he twisted his sword and threw it at Algonge’s stomach, which was already bleeding heavily. As Thetra watched Arek’s sword drill itself into Algonge’s flesh, he felt sorry for the newcomer in the army. He had wanted Arek to win so badly, but he didn’t know his brother had armor on. He was prepared, but Algonge had just come outside, wanting to train.

  “Stop fighting!” yelled Thetra at what he thought a little late. “You’re killing him, Arek. How can you do this?”

  “He…” said Arek, searching for an excuse as to why he went all out to beat Algonge. But he couldn’t. He just stood there thinking as Algonge bled to death.

  “I’ll go get bandages,” offered Thetra, walking inside and into the army’s hospital. He grabbed bandages out of a cabinet he knew well and placed them on Algonge’s wound. “You’ll be alright,” Thetra assured him, but even he did not sound confident as he said it.

  “Will I?” murmured Algonge, out of breath. “I don’t seem alright now.”

  “You will be.” Then, hesitantly, Thetra said, “I promise.”

  A week later Bewaldt rang down from the clouds, but it was not the same voice that had declared the country’s new name. It was a hissing voice, saying, “Good Army, we would like to…send a message. We already know that you know what we plan to do, but we would like to send you a message asking for war. Do you accept, or do you decline? This is Morchad Tyerrondesson.” Then the raspy voice faded away, and Thetra was left silent, thinking.

  “I accept,” he muttered. “But how? How do I accept? How do they know? They have spies. So could I just yell out loud, ‘I accept your war request!’ or do I have to travel to…” He trailed off, knowing he would never make it back alive if he went on that suicide mission, for that was probably exactly what Morchad wanted him to do.

  “I accept!” he bellowed into the sky, hoping that one of Morchad’s spies may pick up the message. He looked around, but then knew that there was no chance of him seeing any of the enemy’s spies, for that Evil was smarter than that.

  He waited through that day for any sign that Morchad could possibly know that their army had accepted. He started thinking of how he didn’t ask for the army’s approval, but just yelled that they had accepted. He represented the Dark Destroyers, but he didn’t believe he represented them well.

  That night he had a dream. It was about the army of Stankl Maobn advancing. The setting of the dream was the day of the battle around midnight. Thetra was fighting a possessor, trying to prevent it from taking over him. Finally, the ghost disappeared in a wisp of smoke and Thetra was left winded, as a golem approached him. The golem roared and Thetra looked up at him, helpless and defenseless, for his sword had skittered three feet away from him. He tried to reach for it, but the huge golem’s foot knocked it away. Thetra was terrified as the golem raised his giant fist to smash the poor leader of the Dark Destroyers, but suddenly Thetra yelled out, “Flyr!” and the golem froze, paralyzed, for that was what Thetra had pictured in his mind when he cast the spell. He whooped in triumph, but then realized the battle was not yet over. He also realized that he had an idea which could help them kill the golems. They could win the battle, and Thetra had just discovered it.

  Thetra awoke with a start, sweating. He thought about his dream–how it was so obvious that he could just say one magic word and they could win the battle. But Morchad could do magic too. Thetra hadn’t thought about this. He realized that magic had just made the fight an even match. He was so happy with joy that he shoved his breakfast into his mouth and ran over to where Arek slept.

  “Arek! Arek!” he yelled, frightening Arek who was still eating. Arek started choking on his toast, but soon swallowed it and was alright. “Sorry,” said Thetra with a smile. “I didn’t mean to make you choke. But I have an idea that may help us defeat Morchad’s Army.”

  “Oh?” said Arek, bewildered, for he had just woken up a few minutes earlier, around the same time as Thetra.

  “Magic.”

  Arek’s face lit up. “Magic! You are correct! That could win the battle for us! You’re a genius, Brother! This is the greatest idea ever!”

  “Thank you, Arek.” Thetra felt proud and like a real leader. Even he had to admit that his idea was a good one, and was confident that it would work.

  “But can’t Morchad do it too?” asked Arek, starting to think about all the possibilities that the plan wouldn’t work.

  “Aye, but it at least makes it a fair battle. I’ll bet anything that he wasn’t expecting us to discover this.”

  “I agree. Now we must win this war.”

  SPIES AND MORE TRAINING

  “I can’t wait to fight,” said Algonge one morning at breakfast when Thetra had brought up the subject of the upcoming battle. They had been thinking about it more, now that the time to fight was fast approaching them. It was only a month and a half away now, and Thetra began to worry if he did not have enough troops.

  “We do not have enough troops,” claimed Arek when Thetra told him about it, “but it’s at least enough to give us a shot at winning.”

  “Do you think Morchad will use the strategy of magic? Do you think he even knows about it?”

  “Aye, he probably does. If not, then he will figure it out, but he will know about it before the battle.”

  Algonge spoke up. “Maybe you should train some of our troops in this army to learn magic so that more of us will be able to use it on them.”

  Thetra looked up at the newcomer. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

  “I’m not dumb,” replied Algonge.

  “I know, it’s just...newcomers don’t normally think of ideas that the army will use. After all, you’ve only been in this army for about a week.”

  “Thank you?” said Algonge, unsure of what to say.

  “You are welcome, Algonge Dercamsson,” respon
ded Thetra.

  “Look,” said Arek, pointing over the hill that led north. There was a man dressed in gold armor darting past the Dark Destroyer’s tents.

  Thetra stood up and unsheathed his sword. The man immediately stopped running and looked at Thetra, who was trying to look as menacing as possible with Slayer by his side. “State your business,” he barked at the man.

  “I am...” The man gulped. “I work for Morch”

  “A spy!” exclaimed Thetra on hearing the spy start to speak the enemy master’s name. “Did you hear that I accepted your war request?”

  “Aye,” said the spy, knowing that his identity was already revealed. “I reported it back to Lord Morchad two days ago.”

  Thetra looked at his men on top of the roofs of the Destville buildings, who were armed with bows and arrows. “Shoot!” Thetra shouted.

  Immediately a row of arrows were shot and caught onto the spy’s uniform. His gold armor was strong though, and it held. The spy did not feel any of the arrows.

  Thetra walked over to the intruder and got right in his face. Then he stabbed him in the stomach.

  The spy screamed in pain on being stabbed and held on to Thetra’s shoulder for support, but Thetra stepped back and watched the spy fall.

  His bloody body stained the gravel, and the spy lay motionless, dead. Thetra almost felt sorry for him because he had been killed so quickly but then remembered he served the enemy.

  Just then Valao bolted into Thetra’s view. “Who was that?” he asked.

  “Valao, do not talk,” replied Thetra. “If you talk you will lose too much of the energy that you need to be saving for battle.”

  Valao obeyed his Rider’s orders and did not respond.

  “That was a spy for Morchad,” explained Thetra. “An intruder. I stabbed him on the spot. He was the one who carried the information of our army accepting the war request to Evil.”

  “Thetra, why did you not ask for our permission?” asked Mordon. “What if we wanted to decline? Personally, I didn’t, but others may have.”

  Thetra gulped. “I apologize, Co-Leader Mordon. I should have done what you just said, yet I did not. I am truly sorry.” He hung his head.

  “I suppose it is alright, King Thetra,” said Mordon. “After all, you are the leader, not me.”

  “Aye, but co-leaders are just as important as leaders when it comes to armies.”

  “But leaders are more powerful,” said Thetra with a joking smile. Then he bellowed, “Every one of the Dark Destroyers! Gather around, gather around! We must all train and fight, for we need practice before the major battle.”

  With that short speech, the Dark Destroyers shuffled over to their training spots and got in their positions.

  “Fight!” yelled Thetra, and all the pairs of soldiers in the army fought.

  “Would you like to train with me?” Algonge asked Thetra as Thetra was overseeing the other soldiers’ fights.

  “Aye, Algonge. I would be pleased to battle you.”

  And so they fought, clashing their swords like madmen, neither gaining an advantage over the other.

  “You are difficult to beat,” claimed Thetra after they had been fighting for a while and he was weary.

  “As are you,” responded Algonge, panting.

  “If only the others were as skilled and talented as us,” said Thetra. “Then we could dominate Morchad’s evil army.”

  “Aye,” agreed Algonge. “We must train them to be as good as us, and then we could destroy Morchad and win the battle.”

  “Destroy Morchad’s Army,” corrected Thetra. “If what our spies reported is correct, then Morchad is not coming to Destville to confront us, but his army is.”

  “I see,” said Algonge. “That is what I had meant but I clearly stated it wrong.”

  “Aye, you did.” Then Thetra stood up straight and tall and said, “Let us continue training, for there is always room for improvement in the Dark Destroyer army.”

  With that, their swords continued clanging and their shields continued dodging the opponents’ blows.

  DISCOVERY

  All they did for the next week was spar and train, and soon Thetra began to realize he was developing strong muscles, and so were the other troops. It seemed as if they had all improved on their fighting skills, and much more.

  Thetra started practicing with Arek more often so as to help him become better, so that the army needed more highly trained soldiers, which would help give them a better chance against Morchad’s Army.

  During one of Thetra and Arek’s training sessions, Thetra started the conversation by saying, “One more month and three days until battle day.”

  “Aye,” said Arek.

  “We do not have much longer. We must continue training, and we must continue training the way we have beenhard.”

  “Aye,” said Arek, nearly having an advantage in the sparring match.

  “Some of our troops are not good enough. Do you believe we shall tell them to leave?”

  “No,” replied Arek. “They do no harm to the army, unless they mistake us for the enemy in the battle and start fighting us. Otherwise, they would be a help, even if they are not that good. They’re better than nothing.”

  “Aye,” agreed Thetra. He won the sparring contest over Arek, who he had just cut badly on the shin. “Are you alright? I am sorry, Brother.”

  “I forgive you. Thank you for apologizing though.” Arek winced and smiled weakly. He walked around, limping but loosening up his left leg.

  Arek sat down after a while, for walking had not improved the condition of his leg. He sheathed Stabber and looked up at Thetra. “One month isn’t a lot of time, Thetra.”

  Thetra looked up at the sky. “I know. I am afraid we will not have enough strength to fight when the time comes to fight.”

  “We only have three good soldiers,” stated Arek.

  “Oh?” said Thetra.

  “Aye. You, Mordon, and Algonge.”

  “And you?” asked Thetra, for he thought that his brother was a good troop as well.

  “No. I may be at the time of battle, but I am not yet.”

  “Well then I shall make you a highly trained soldier without any more doubts.”

  “Thank you.” Arek smiled.

  They then continued to fight into the night.

  Two hours after dusk, both Thetra and Arek were so exhausted, they barely made it inside the building in which their beds were, and they collapsed just when they reached them.

  “Oh, how tired I am,” moaned Thetra, and he fell asleep.

    

  Arek

  When Arek awoke, he was suddenly starved. He tried to remember the last time he had sat down for a meal, and couldn’t think of it, except for supper five days ago.

  How am I living? he wondered.

  He went down to the Dining Hall for breakfast, and ate eggs and toast as usual.

  When he finished, he went outside for his daily walk and discovered it was still early morning. There was a light breeze out which made it feel cool on the training camps.

  The temperature was well above the low fifties in Fahrenheit, and Arek could tell by the way the clouds looked that the day was going to only get warmer, so he decided that when he returned from his walk he would dress ready for a hot day in the mid-seventies Fahrenheit.

  As he walked, he saw a rabbit sitting on the grass to his right. Fortunately, Arek had brought his bow and four arrows. He took his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow.

  “Wait…” Arek aimed his bow directly at the rabbit. “Release!” he cried, letting the arrow fly.

  The arrow shot through the air and struck the rabbit in its stomach. Arek heard the rabbit squeal, and then he saw the animal lay down dead.

  Arek continued his walk up the street, over the hills where announcements were made, past the outdoor eating area, and finally stopped by a pile of hay.

  What is this doing here? he thought, looking at the pile. It
must have come from Thaken, though why would it be transported here?

  Anxious to tell the others what he had found, he started his walk back to the Dark Destroyer buildings, through the corridors and passages, and finally reached Thetra’s bedroom.

  He knocked and waited for Thetra to open the door.

  No one came.

  “Arek!” he heard a voice yell from behind him. Arek turned around to see Thetra approaching him. “Arek, what are you doing? This is my room.”

  “I—I was knocking. I thought you were in here.”

  “I was eating,” replied Thetra in a softer tone.

  “I was just on a walk.” Arek gulped. It would be hard for him to tell Thetra what he had discovered. Why should Thetra believe him? Why should he?

  “So? Why should I care? You are allowed to go on walks without my permission.”

  “No, I know that. I mean I made a discovery.”

  “Oh?” said Thetra.

  “Aye. I found…I found a bale of hay.” Arek looked up at his brother, his leader. He knew from the expression on Thetra’s face that he believed that Arek was lying. “I promise—I did!”

  Thetra held up a hand. “I believe you, Brother.”

  “You do?” Arek was confused. He was unsure if he had heard Thetra right.

  “Aye,” responded Thetra. “There is no reason why I should not. There is no reason why you would lie to me like this. What’s the point? What do I care if there’s a bale of hay outside?”

  “But what is a bale of hay doing here? In Destville!”

  “That I do not know. I shall investigate. Lead me to the location in which this pile of hay lays.”

  Arek did. He led Thetra out of the building, along the path he walked on, over the hills, and they finally reached the bale.

  “What is this?” asked Thetra, drawing his sword.

  “There is no need to draw Slayer,” said Arek. “It is not a living creature, but a sign.”

  “A sign of what?” asked Thetra.

  “I do not know. All I know is that it is a sign.”

  They decided to take the hay back with them to the Destville buildings to show to Mordon, who would know what to do, since he was an investigator.