Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Chapter 4
~Falron~
I rode hard back to the small war-camp we had set up east of the village, thinking of all that had occurred, and it saddened me. "Sil..." I muttered her name, a strange pain in my chest. "Why? How could this have happened... why you? Anyone else would have been..." I cursed the foul Rolfgand, who unknowingly condemned the two races against each other, and fate for my having to go against Sil.
Again there was a strange pain in my chest. I put thoughts of the beautiful Silivrenniel out of my mind, and concentrated on the strong strides of my steed, and companion, as his hooves thundered on the grass, and the earth shook under his mighty footfalls, felt as his massive heart beat furiously as we flew across the plain.
When we finally reached the camp, I jumped from his back, as a stable boy took the reins, and landed hard on my feet, breathless. I looked at the boy, and said, “Water him, comb him, whatever needs doing,” and flipped him a coin. He caught it, and looked at the gold florin, his eyes bugging, and ran off with my horse trotting behind him.
I strode to my tent, where I found the captain of the guards, Baldrehn, who had woken me that night, informing me of the Elves, the inn keeper, Thorehn, and the village chief, Bairn, all sitting in a circle 'round a fire in front of my tent.
Baldrehn stood, gripping my hand in a greeting. “Sire, what news do you bring? What is it they want?” he asked grimly.
I looked around at the others gathered, and said, “We must speak in my quarters, gentlemen. We’ve matters to attend to, which I would rather not have others' ears clinging to,” I said, opening the entry flap to the tent.
They stood, grim expressions on their faces, and entered and I followed. Once inside the dark, dusty enclosure, I lit a lamp and put up a barrier to prevent eavesdroppers. I felt the effects of the spell almost immediately: a small amount of strength draining from my limbs, and I began to feel hunger eating at my stomach.
I turned to them, and started in a low voice, “they wish for us to pick out a champion to undergo three trials, which they refuse to elaborate on, so that we might learn from our mistake, or rather, pay for it.”
“What would we gain if our champion is the victor of these 'trials'?” asked Baldrehn. I shook my head. “I know not, Baldrehn.”
“Then what is the point of this? Why not just eradicate them and be done with it?” asked Thorehn, a plump, middle aged man, his thick red-gray beard waggling from his round cheeks. “Because,” answered Baldrehn, impatiently. “We would not win a war against Elves, Thorehn. It would be a waste of lives, our lives. I would rather avoid pointless bloodshed.”
“Those are the words of a coward,” he scoffed. “I’m willing to bet my whole inn that Sir Falron here can take one of those prissy bastards.”
“Watch your tongue, Thorehn!” scowled Chief Bairn.
“I’ll speak how I like, old man!”
“I should cut out your tongue for saying such impudent things!” growled Baldrehn.
“Silence!” I shouted. They each looked at me, startled. “I’ll not waste the lives of this village only to fall with glory, Thorehn, nor will I see you all rip each other to shreds! Now, we must choose a champion to undergo their trials. Who is worthy? Who is strong to take on their strongest warrior?”
“Perhaps Faehn Aldornson?” asked Bairn, his voice raspy behind his long, white beard.
“Nay, it should be Galen Erikson. I once saw him take down a tree with his bare hands!” boasted Thorehn.
“Aye, he's a strong one, but he's not the sharpest tool in the barn, and he's far too slow,” said Baldrehn. “What of Falgrend Olksorson? He’s swift, and cunning, a good combination.”
“Aye, but he's just a boy, Baldrehn,” said Thorehn. “He can hardly carry a wood ax, and you expect him to take an elf? You’re a fool, Baldrehn.”
“And? What of it? I’m sure he could take one! Besides, at least I’m not foolish enough to-“
“Quiet, you two!” shouted Chief Bairn. “I believe that Sir Falron would be perfect.” the tent grew silent, as the others gawked at the old man, stunned.
“I’m honored that I would be considered a candidate, but-“ I began, only to be interrupted by Thorehns' gruff response, “he'd be perfect! Think about it; he's strong, swift, cunning, and he holds the power of magic at his disposal!”
“Yes, but he is also to be the next High King, should something happen to his father. Or did you forget, Thorehn al' Randselnd?” said Baldrehn. I thought about this, while they continued to argue.
“I’ll do it,” I decided. They turned and stared at me, disbelief in Baldrehns' eyes, and smugness in Thorehns’. “I’ve experience in dealings with creatures of magic, though none were Elves. I’ve slayed ogres, driven away dragons, made peace with the giants, formed alias with the Dwarves and Faeries, spoken with the Rook'shod's gods, calmed storm spirits, and I have listened to the maidens of the Sea's songs and have not died. I have defeated goblin hordes, and won countries for our King, served punishment to those who raid our temples. I think I might stand a chance with an Elf champion, however short.”
Bairn stood, leaning against his wood staff heavily, his fragile body creaking from the effort. He gripped his hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye through his bushy brows, and rasped, “I agree. You, my boy, are the only one for the job, Falron. Go, now. And may you have the gods' favor.” I bowed, and backed out of the tent, ending the spell. The stable boy had already prepared my horse, and was holding the reins out for me. I snatched them, and muttered my thanks, and mounted swiftly, and kicked my horse to a canter.
“Gods’ speed, Falron!” called Chief Bairn, waving after me.
When I arrived in the village, I was harshly greeted by the Lady Silvera, and Silivrenniel. Oh, how Sil glowed under the moon! Her beauty out-shined all, the stars, moon, and sun put together! Even Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, would have been jealous at the sight of Sil. And oh, how my heart fluttered at the sound of her voice, pure and wispy as the wind, beautiful beyond comparison, as she said, “you are the Edanen Champion?"”
I jumped down from my saddle, and landed hard on the ground, kneeling before her, unable to rip my eyes away from her exquisite eyes, a shade of blue I have never seen in my life. “Aye, my lady. I’m afraid we have already met, though, haven't we, Silivrenniel?”
She smiled a smile sweeter than moon-honey, and my heart skipped. It was a strange feeling. The very air around her seemed to sigh and the light 'round her form was brighter. Almost like she radiated beauty and light, as moonbeams reflected off the lovely ceramic whiteness of her skin.
“Yes, I believe we have. But,” she said, her delicate brows furrowing slightly in a small frown. “I don't believe I caught your name, sir.”
“Forgive me, my lady, but I believe my name would be far too unworthy to reach your lovely ears, let alone be remembered by one of such radiance as a goddess like you, Lady Silivrenniel.”
“Oh, I’m afraid I’m far from being a ‘goddess’, my lord,” she said, blushing slightly.
“You’re right,” I said. “You’re a being far better than any goddess. You’re Sil.” Her blush deepened, and she looked away, attempting to feign annoyance and failing miserably.
Then, the Lion-like Elf stood in front of her, crossing his arms. “I am the one which you will be fighting against, Ëdan bastard. There is no reason for you to engage in conversation with the Lady Silivrenniel, and you're a thousand years too early to start calling her ‘Sil’,” he growled.
I looked down, smiling, and somewhat embarrassed that such words had flown from my mouth. “I understand.”
“Mor’ko Raa’, back off,” said the lady Silvera. “You will have your chance, in the ring.” surprisingly enough, the beast-elf backed down, moving out of the way. Turning to me, she asked, “What is your name, sir?”
“Falron, my lady,” I answered, tearing my eyes away from Sil, using every fiber of my being to keep myself from looking at her again.
“Well, then, sir Falron, come,” she said, gesturing towards the center of the settlement, where they had drawn a circle in the dirt.
“Enter the circle,” she ordered, after taking my sword. I obeyed, Mor’ko Raa’ following, baring his fangs at me. We moved to opposite sides of the ring, staring each other down.
“For the first trial, the Champion Falron with fight with the Falnor Edhel, Mor'ko Raa' at hand-to-hand combat!” shouted Silvera, as the gathered Elves cheered, and the ‘Falnor’ beast-Elves roared in excitement. I could tell they couldn't wait to see me get my head torn off by this Mor’ko Raa’. And I had to admit, he was an impressive beast, indeed, what with his inch-long fangs, lithe muscles, powerful hands and claws, he was a force to be reckoned with. But not as fearsome as the dragons I have conquered, I thought somberly. However, I also knew that nothing was as it seemed. I knew he was far stronger than an average Elf, and that made me wary.
“There are rules, though, Ëdan! We will not kill opponents! There will be no final blow! The winner will be the last one conscious!” again, the crowd roared with excitement. “Begin!”
He snarled and charged me, baring his arms in order to catch me in a death-grip, but I side-stepped him, kicking him in the rear. He fell face forward on the ground, inches from the line. The crowd booed, and he jumped to his feet, turning towards me and roaring a rather lion-like roar. Again, he charged me, baring his arms.
This time, I let him grip me with one arm, but not both, for the very second he touched my shoulder, I grabbed his wrist with my other arm, twisting it round, and thrust my other elbow against his. There was a rather satisfying snap! and he roared in pain. He clutched his arm, and back-handed me across the ring, landing hard on the ground.
Agony gripped me as I heard a crack in one of my ribs, and I shouted out in pain. But I couldn't lay there long, for he was on me in a second, his broken arm waving sickeningly behind him. He jumped up, and just before his knees could make impact with my face, I rolled out of the way, jumping to my feet, and kicked him solidly in the back on his head. He went down. Hard.
I turned my back on him, breathing hard and walked a few paces away. He stood and charged me again, strangling me with his good hand.
I could feel my eyes bulge in surprise, as he began to slowly crush my wind-pipe. I gripped his furry forearm, trying to move his hand from my throat. But his arm was as hard as steel, and wouldn’t budge. In one fluid motion, I shoved my foot against his bare stomach and shoved him several feet from me. I felt his claws gouged into my neck, barely missing the main artery, and blood fell from the wound.
He landed with a loud thump! on his head, and did not get up.
The crowd went silent. Silvera came, and checked his pulse. “He lives! Sir Falron is victorious!” she declared. The crowd began cheering loudly. Silivrenniel, who had been watching, was at my side. “Come, we shall heal you before the next trial, Falron.” shocked, I whipped around.
“Oh,” I said, oh-so-intelligently. “Alright.” I stood, and she helped me away from the circle, and the unconscious Mor’ko Raa’.
