The Blade Heir (Book 1)

by Daniel Adorno

  Siegfried lowered his bow and furrowed his brows. "Was it ... him?"

  "Yes. The dragon appeared in my dream again—darker and more menacing than before. Kraegyn's fire burnt my flesh."

  "Do not speak his name—not here. I do not know what these dreams entail, Lucius. But perhaps you should tell Father about it."

  "I don't want to worry him about this. He always secludes himself in his study when I share my dreams with him. I feel as if I've brought a great burden on him ... and to you also by arriving as I did," he said.

  "Lucius, you have been a blessing to both my father and I, you know this. If Father worries about your dreams, it is merely because he cares for you. Neither he nor I would allow any evil to cause you harm."

  Lucius nodded. "I know. Perhaps I should tell him, then."

  "It can only help you, brother. And as for this matter of your arrival, you know that could not be helped. You were a mere infant when you were left at the Marble Gate," Siegfried said, placing his hand on Lucius' shoulder.

  "Father still believes it to be a sign of some sort," Lucius scoffed. "But the only sign I see is that of uncaring parents."

  Before Siegfried could speak, a horn sounded nearby. They both looked toward the city square. "Has the tournament started?" Lucius asked nervously.

  "No, but we must not tarry any longer. Come!" Siegfried grabbed a second quiver of arrows leaning on the fence and rushed toward the western road.

  Lucius quickly gathered his gear and tried to keep up with his brother's swift pace. They hurried along the road that ran through the outskirts of the city in a semicircle, eventually connecting with the eastern road. The eastern and western roads were split by an intersecting lane known as the Royal Road. Lucius and Siegfried ran along the eastern road for a few feet before they turned right onto the Royal Road, which led them to Evingrad's center. The cobblestone path was lined with the marble houses of the most honored families. The Royal Road descended a few feet as they neared the Tower of Breninmaur, a tall spire used as a post for the elven warriors patrolling the city. The tower also housed the entrance to the Hollows of Breninmaur, long tunnels descending into the world below.

  The elves of Evingrad were all gathered in the oval court on the eastern side of the Tower. A dais had been erected at the end of the courtyard, and all members of the Cyngorell, the governing council of Evingrad, were seated upon it. The Cyngorell were sages, judges, alchemists, and healers who led the elves of Evingrad with their ancient wisdom, seeking peace for all peoples of Azuleah. Helmer Silverhart sat at the right end of the dais and watched his sons, Siegfried and Lucius, run toward the crowd. He winked at Lucius as he lined up with the rest of the assembly.

  Lucius stood behind some elder elves in long, velvet robes. He was out of breath, and some of the elves looked at him with raised eyebrows. Siegfried was as calm as ever, standing tall among his kin and waiting for the leader of the Council, Quetulya, to speak. A tall elf dressed in a flowing scarlet robe rose from the center of the dais. His eyes were fierce, but his demeanor was tranquil as he looked upon the crowd before him.

  "D'arya be with you all as we gather here today. The Cyngorell is pleased to see so many of you here today willing to compete in this year's tournament. As many of you well know, those who claim victory today will become Protectors of Verdania and join our kin in the forests below to safeguard our land from the evils plaguing Azuleah. But this honor cannot be bestowed on any elf ... or man," he said while glancing at Lucius, whose eyes lowered to the ground. "Only those whose skills with a bow and a sword surpass the challenges ahead will be deemed worthy by this Council to serve the Great Tree."

  A brief applause came from the crowd as Quetulya sat down. An elf with braided blonde hair and thin eyebrows stood up beside him. He stretched out his arms and recited a poem in the elven tongue honoring D'arya. Then he opened a scroll set on the dais and called out the names of those competing in the tournament. Lucius straightened his posture when his name was called.

  "Please step forth from the crowd and join Kiret and Athri on the green seal," the elf said, gesturing toward the large green circle just a few feet from the dais.

  Lucius and Siegfried moved through the crowd to the seal where two elves with long, slim swords stood. They wore light armor with a dark green elvish oak emblazoned on the front and back of their torsos. Their greaves gleamed in the sunlight and revealed elven inscriptions. Lucius was most impressed at the artistry of the Protectors' weapons. The elven blades were a curved shape, and the brown leather scabbards bore the rune of D'arya.

  Lucius watched as both Kiret and Athri bowed their heads slightly when the competitors assembled on the seal. Kiret, a shorter male elf with brown hair tied in a knot, motioned to one of his kinsman holding two swords to come forward. Kiret sheathed his sword and took the two swords from the elf's hands. He then signaled Athri with a nod to address the assembly.

  "D'arya be with you all who compete here today," the darker-skinned and slender female elf said. "To begin we shall test your efficiency and grace with these elvish swords in combat. Your opponent shall be Kiret. Whoever deals the fatal stroke shall be considered the victor, but the graceful control of your swordplay will be taken into account above victory by the Cyngorell's ruling. Let the first warrior step forward."

  A young, ruddy elf stepped forward and took hold of one of the swords Kiret handed him. They quickly squared off against each other, Kiret leading the first offensive blow. The young elf parried it gracefully. Kiret thrust his sword at his opponent's chest with ferocious speed, but the elf sidestepped the attack and swung his blade toward Kiret's neck. Kiret anticipated the move and quickly brought his sword up to his face, parrying the swing with a resounding clang. He then lunged forward with his shoulder, catching the young elf off guard, and swept him with his right foot. As soon as the elf hit the ground, Kiret's blade hovered just an inch above his throat. "Next competitor!" he shouted, then helped the defeated elf to his feet.

  Lucius and Siegfried stood quietly observing Kiret make quick work of the competitors, each hoping to gain victory and the acceptance of the Cyngorell. Many elves eagerly met the elven warrior in combat and came close to defeating him, but neither their graceful sword strokes nor their phenomenal speed could match Kiret's prowess with a D'aryan blade.

  "This is madness. No one will overcome Kiret," Lucius whispered into Siegfried's pointed ear.

  "Do not fret, Lucius. A battle is not always measured by victory. Put trust in your skills as a swordsman and the grace in which you enter combat. These will aid you in dealing the fatal blow. Search for the gap in his defense," Siegfried advised. The elf scrutinized every parry and thrust made by Kiret.

  His words did little to boost Lucius' confidence. He watched each match with dread, knowing his name would soon be called and he might suffer the same defeat as his peers. Practice in elven swordplay had become a ritual for him in the past year. He had sparred with Siegfried for countless nights, learning every thrust, swing, parry, and counterstrike known to the elven masters of the D'aryan blade. Despite his diligence, Lucius had never scored a victory over his brother. Siegfried was more cunning and graceful with a sword than any elf Lucius had known. If anyone could defeat Kiret in a contest, it would be Siegfried.

  Athri suddenly called Lucius' brother to the center of the seal where Kiret had just vanquished Isis, the daughter of Quetulya. She stood up in shame as her father glowered at her from his seat. Siegfried approached the Protectors calmly without any hint of emotion. Lucius rubbed the back of his neck as Athri handed Siegfried a sword. The blade's edge was dull, and should the competitors fail to restrain an attack, the weapon would not cause serious injury.

  "At the ready!" Athri yelled. Both elves drew up their swords and took their stances, glaring at each other with restrained intensity. In an instant, Kiret charged toward Siegfried with an upward swing of his blade. Siegfried gracefully blocked the charge and dashed behind Kiret, to his bewilderment. Kiret
quickly turned to face Siegfried, who arrogantly smirked at the Protector. Kiret scowled and swung his sword at his side, but it was a feint. As Siegfried hurried to parry it, Kiret immediately arched his blade and swung at Siegfried's other side. With little time to react, Siegfried jumped backwards, but the edge of Kiret's blade still slashed the surface of his jerkin, exposing his undershirt. Lucius and the crowd gasped. Siegfried did not let his opponent's move deter him. He quickly charged Kiret with a series of short thrusts, but the Protector was able to block them. And after parrying the last of the strikes, he sidestepped then placed his right foot behind Siegfried's and tripped him. Siegfried fell on his back, and Lucius knew Kiret's next move would be the last if his brother did not act swiftly. Kiret drove his D'aryan blade downward, aiming at Siegfried's neck, but Siegfried shifted his upper body to the side. He then grabbed the hilt of Kiret's sword with his left hand and pulled the elf's sword to the ground. The blade struck the stone floor with a clash. With one swift move, Siegfried brought his blade up with his right hand and the tip stopped just an inch below Kiret's throat. Kiret's eyes widened as he realized he had been defeated.

  Athri looked at them in surprise and announced, "Siegfried is the victor!" The previously silent crowd erupted in applause and cheered enthusiastically for the younger Silverhart elf. Siegfried was helped to his feet by Kiret, who looked rather flustered. Siegfried turned to face the dais and bowed before the Council and his father. Helmer smiled at his son, but only for a brief moment to avoid any suspicion of partiality among his fellow councilors.

  Siegfried walked back to his place beside Lucius, who expressed his joy at the victory more than anyone else did. But Lucius' wide grin quickly turned to a frown when Athri called him to the seal. Siegfried reminded Lucius to trust in his abilities, but his brother's words did not prevent the knot forming in Lucius' stomach. He took a deep breath and walked up to the Protectors who glared at him. They saw a young, dark-haired human—one incapable of defeating a Protector of the Great Tree and unworthy of the respected role. The race of men had been a thorn in the side of the elven realms for centuries, and no victory or kind words from Lucius would change the intense disdain he sensed coming from Kiret and Athri.

  Athri handed him the D'aryan blade. "Prepare yourself."

  Lucius grabbed the sword and faced his opponent, who was still anguished at his previous defeat. Lucius took a defensive stance and breathed calmly. Kiret's stare bore into him, whether to intimidate him or communicate a deeper dislike, Lucius could not tell. Athri yelled for the match to begin, and Kiret immediately dashed forward. His first attack caught Lucius off guard, but he managed to parry the elf's vicious strike.

  Lucius reared back, took a breath, and charged at Kiret with a broad swing to the elf's shoulder. Kiret ducked beneath the blow and thrust his sword at Lucius' neck. Lucius leaned back, away from the tip of the blade and desperately blocked the thrust. The move annoyed Kiret, who expected a quick victory over him. The Protector took a few steps back and twirled his sword with both hands as Lucius watched.

  Kiret was taunting him.

  Lucius scowled, then with a cry swung his sword at Kiret's side, anticipating a parry. Kiret did so, and Lucius quickly whipped his sword at the elf's head. The Protector barely blocked the ambitious swing, but lost his balance for a second. Lucius capitalized and swung his blade in a downward arc that caused Kiret to fall backward while blocking the force of the blow

  A sudden silence fell upon the crowd, and everyone watched in anticipation of a human besting an elven warrior. Lucius swiftly tried to position the dull point of his sword at Kiret's heart, but the elf was too quick. Kiret rolled from his prone position with cunning grace, lifted himself to his knees, and flicked the edge of his blade beneath Lucius' jaw all in a matter of seconds. Lucius sighed in frustration and dropped his sword.

  "Kiret stands victorious," Athri announced.

  The audience applauded Lucius and Kiret's spirited contest, but Lucius felt unworthy of any applause. He sauntered back to where Siegfried stood, glancing at the Council dais toward his adoptive father. The white-haired elder Silverhart nodded slightly at him without a hint of disappointment.

  Siegfried stood with his arms crossed and a smile on his face as Lucius approached. He knew what Siegfried wanted to say. My technique was rushed and too erratic to defeat a Protector. But his brother said nothing. He only bowed his head at him and continued to watch the remaining contests.

  Only two more elves were able to score a decisive victory over Kiret when the tournament was over. The short Protector looked flushed after the fighting had finally ended. When the entire assembly of competitors had lined up as Athri commanded, the Cyngorell spoke quietly amongst each other. Lucius felt more than a few glances from the Councilors on him while they conversed. After a few minutes, the whispers atop the dais ceased and Quetulya stood up.

  He looked at the row of prospective Protectors before him solemnly. Lucius felt uneasy whenever Quetulya's stare fell upon him. The wise elf sighed deeply and looked to the heavens for a brief moment before he finally spoke.

  "I congratulate every one of you for competing in this tournament, which has been a tradition of Evingrad for ages. You have all fought with great honor and valor this day. Nonetheless, the Cyngorell has come to a decision on whom among you are worthy to guard the Great Tree of Verdania," Quetulya said. The councilor paused briefly and let the anticipation in the crowd reach its full limit. "Siegfried, Mora, and Isis step forward!"

  The three elves stepped forward in near perfect sync, arms at their sides. Lucius grumbled in disappointment as Quetulya began to speak again.

  "You have all been deemed worthy of defending the Great Tree and land of our ancestors. Your grace and skill with a sword has placed you above your kinsmen. However, in order for the burden of the Protector to be bestowed, you must now prove your skills with a bow. For the rest of you, the archery tournament will be a chance to redeem yourselves. The D'aryan bow is the heart of an elf on the battlefield, and a Protector of the Great Tree is required to wield it proficiently. The bow always precedes the sword. After a brief rest, you will all compete, and we shall determine who will join Siegfried, Mora, and Isis in the ranks of the elite."

  Quetulya signaled to Athri and Kiret. The two Protectors dismissed the competitors for a short time. The elves dispersed, talking among themselves and their family clans who stood watching a few feet behind the green seal. Lucius walked up to Siegfried and patted him on the back.

  "Well done, brother. It is quite an honor, and I see no elf more worthy of it than you."

  Siegfried nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Lucius. But I have yet to bear the armor of Breninmaur."

  "I have no doubt you will after this next contest," Lucius admitted.

  "Have you not seen what is happening here, Lucius?" Siegfried's tone grew serious. Lucius looked at him quizzically. "Isis was chosen over you."

  "So? What of it?"

  "Isis is Quetulya's daughter, Lucius. She suffered a quicker defeat than you."

  Lucius followed his logic. "You're suggesting the Council was biased in their ruling?"

  "Yes. You fought more valiantly than she did. Go present the matter to our Father, or Quetulya himself. The honor is rightfully yours," Siegfried persuaded.

  "No, Siegfried, I don't wish to get involved in the Cyngorell's decision. It's not my place ... I am not even of elven blood." His voice trailed off.

  Siegfried shook his head and walked toward the dais where the councilors were chatting and laughing. Lucius realized what his brother planned to do and he reached out to stop him, but it was too late. Siegfried called to his father.

  Helmer abruptly stopped his conversation with one of the councilors and turned to his son. Quetulya, who had been writing on a piece of parchment, looked up at the fair-skinned elf.

  "I do not agree with the Cyngorell's decision," Siegfried said, eliciting a few gasps from those nearby.

  "Why not, my son?" Helmer
asked.

  "Father, it is clear to me that I should be honored by this Council for worthy display of skill with a D'aryan blade and the defeat of a Protector. But it is unclear why Lucius, who displayed the same skill and valor as I, should not also be bestowed this honor."

  Before Helmer could answer, Quetulya interrupted, "young Silverhart, it is not your place to question the rulings of this Council. We alone will judge who is worthy of recognition for such a prestigious honor as that of a Protector of the Great Tree."

  "As a descendant of the great sage Ellyllei of the ancestral line of Silverhart and heir to my father's seat in the Cyngorell, I have every right to question your ruling, Quetulya Elvinstar," Siegfried challenged.

  Quetulya stood from his seat and turned to Helmer. "Is this the manner of respect you have taught your son, Helmer?"

  "Siegfried speaks for himself, Quetulya. He is not a child anymore. The decision has been challenged. Now what does the Grand Councilor suggest?" Helmer retorted.

  Quetulya clenched his jaw. "The decision to honor Siegfried, Mora, and Isis was fair—"

  "Fair?" Siegfried interrupted. "How fair was it that your daughter, Councilor, should gain honor when she was defeated quicker than any other elf who faced Kiret? Surely, if she is worthy of the Protector's armor, then so is my brother."

  "Enough!" Quetulya snapped. "One more insolent word from you, Siegfried, and your honor shall be stripped of you."

  Lucius swallowed hard and put his hand on Siegfried's shoulder, pleading for him to stop. But he did not.

  "There is no need, Quetulya. I forfeit my honor since you have chosen to withhold my brother's."

  The faces among the crowd of elves who had formed behind them looked on, aghast at Siegfried's words. Lucius couldn't believe what his brother had just done.

  "Very well, Siegfried," Quetulya said with noticeable satisfaction in his tone. "You will no longer be considered for the role of Protector—unless, of course, this Council nominates you again after your performance in the archery tournament."