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Authors: Joel Babbitt
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the energy, but also learned how to bring on the energy. Practicing alone from
time to time in a secluded glen in the woods, he had learned to focus and
manipulate the energy, slowly at first. It was not long before he had learned
to amplify the energy and focus it on his favored weapon, the javelin, seeming
to be able to correct the course of its flight from afar and cause it to strike
harder. Some time after that, he’d learned to bring on greater amounts of the
energy, stripping the bark from mighty trees with his repeated focuses and
shattering young saplings from several steps away.
The pinnacle of his efforts thus far had come just
before entering his year of training. As he stood focusing on a tree one quiet
winter afternoon, he had felt to raise his hands and, forming a triangle with
his fingers, he focused on the space between his hands. From within the
triangle, a swirling flame had begun to appear, growing slowly as he moved his
hands apart. Cupping his hands behind it, Jerrig had focused on projecting
this flame toward the tree he had been practicing on.
The flame had sped like a dart toward the tree and
struck it with a loud crack, blasting a hole and causing the trunk of it to
burst into flames. Fortunately for Jerrig it had been a cold spring and there
was still snow on the ground. After several minutes of throwing snow at the
fire until it was out, a mentally and physically exhausted Jerrig had gone home
pondering on the power within him.
During this year of training for the Trials of
Caste he’d applied this power in small doses and had learned to manipulate small
portions of it in different ways. Mostly, however, he had not had the time to
focus on this power, and he could feel it lying dormant within him, awaiting
release, aching to no longer be suppressed.
“Yearling,” an unfamiliar voice said from just
around the corner of the passage, catching Trallik completely by surprise.
“Your name is Trallik, is it not?”
Trallik stopped suddenly. In front of him an
elite warrior of the Deep Guard stepped out from around the sharp bend. “Who
are you? You wear the trappings of my warrior group, but I don’t recognize
you.”
“Who I am is not of great concern. Suffice it to
say that I am a friend of Trelkar,” the warrior answered.
“How do you know me?” Trallik asked. “And what do
you want?”
The unknown warrior smiled. “I saw you yesterday
at Sheerface, but I’ve been watching you. You have done well in this past year
of training. You have talent that few recognize, wouldn’t you say?”
Trallik nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“I would say that you deserve to be chosen as an elite
warrior. I hope the Trials of Caste show the same.”
Trallik puffed up his chest a bit. “I think my
chances are better than most. I’m good at what I do.”
“You’re not afraid that that Gorgon or Durik will
win the day? You have great talent, but you will have a hard time overcoming
Gorgon’s strength or Durik’s skill. They have won most of your sparing matches
so far,” the stranger offered.
How did he know so much about the yearlings?
Trallik grimaced. “Yes, they’re both hard opponents, but I think I can take
them,” Trallik said, the lack of confidence in his voice clearly apparent.
The warrior smiled. “If I told you I have a task
that needs doing, which would make you an elite warrior whether or not you win
the Trials of Caste, would you be interested?”
Trallik looked quizzically at this warrior he’d
just met for the first time. “What do I have to do?” he asked.
“That I will tell you shortly,” the warrior
answered with a grin. “I know where to find you. We will talk again soon. In
the meantime, Trelkar will hear of your willingness. He rewards well those who
serve him, as do I.”
Trallik watched as the warrior walked away. After
a few moments, he shook his head and continued on his
the energy, but also learned how to bring on the energy. Practicing alone from
time to time in a secluded glen in the woods, he had learned to focus and
manipulate the energy, slowly at first. It was not long before he had learned
to amplify the energy and focus it on his favored weapon, the javelin, seeming
to be able to correct the course of its flight from afar and cause it to strike
harder. Some time after that, he’d learned to bring on greater amounts of the
energy, stripping the bark from mighty trees with his repeated focuses and
shattering young saplings from several steps away.
The pinnacle of his efforts thus far had come just
before entering his year of training. As he stood focusing on a tree one quiet
winter afternoon, he had felt to raise his hands and, forming a triangle with
his fingers, he focused on the space between his hands. From within the
triangle, a swirling flame had begun to appear, growing slowly as he moved his
hands apart. Cupping his hands behind it, Jerrig had focused on projecting
this flame toward the tree he had been practicing on.
The flame had sped like a dart toward the tree and
struck it with a loud crack, blasting a hole and causing the trunk of it to
burst into flames. Fortunately for Jerrig it had been a cold spring and there
was still snow on the ground. After several minutes of throwing snow at the
fire until it was out, a mentally and physically exhausted Jerrig had gone home
pondering on the power within him.
During this year of training for the Trials of
Caste he’d applied this power in small doses and had learned to manipulate small
portions of it in different ways. Mostly, however, he had not had the time to
focus on this power, and he could feel it lying dormant within him, awaiting
release, aching to no longer be suppressed.
“Yearling,” an unfamiliar voice said from just
around the corner of the passage, catching Trallik completely by surprise.
“Your name is Trallik, is it not?”
Trallik stopped suddenly. In front of him an
elite warrior of the Deep Guard stepped out from around the sharp bend. “Who
are you? You wear the trappings of my warrior group, but I don’t recognize
you.”
“Who I am is not of great concern. Suffice it to
say that I am a friend of Trelkar,” the warrior answered.
“How do you know me?” Trallik asked. “And what do
you want?”
The unknown warrior smiled. “I saw you yesterday
at Sheerface, but I’ve been watching you. You have done well in this past year
of training. You have talent that few recognize, wouldn’t you say?”
Trallik nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“I would say that you deserve to be chosen as an elite
warrior. I hope the Trials of Caste show the same.”
Trallik puffed up his chest a bit. “I think my
chances are better than most. I’m good at what I do.”
“You’re not afraid that that Gorgon or Durik will
win the day? You have great talent, but you will have a hard time overcoming
Gorgon’s strength or Durik’s skill. They have won most of your sparing matches
so far,” the stranger offered.
How did he know so much about the yearlings?
Trallik grimaced. “Yes, they’re both hard opponents, but I think I can take
them,” Trallik said, the lack of confidence in his voice clearly apparent.
The warrior smiled. “If I told you I have a task
that needs doing, which would make you an elite warrior whether or not you win
the Trials of Caste, would you be interested?”
Trallik looked quizzically at this warrior he’d
just met for the first time. “What do I have to do?” he asked.
“That I will tell you shortly,” the warrior
answered with a grin. “I know where to find you. We will talk again soon. In
the meantime, Trelkar will hear of your willingness. He rewards well those who
serve him, as do I.”
Trallik watched as the warrior walked away. After
a few moments, he shook his head and continued on his
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