The Guardians of the Forest: Book Two by Kelly Napoli
***
Every part of her body ached. Every single part.
She didn’t even have to open her eyes. She knew exactly what was sore—everything—and it all throbbed in unison. She didn’t want to move. She hardly wanted to breathe.
And now she expected that Aaron was going to force her through an entire day of sword training. There was only so much she could do before she fell apart. She was rather eager for that day to come, because then someone else might pick up her pieces and do her job for her.
It was cold out, too, making the idea of climbing out from under her warm robe and into the cool, crisp autumn air horrific. She couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this reluctant about anything.
With that thought, she willed herself back to sleep.
She didn’t know how long Aaron put up with her reluctant mood, but she felt like it had only been seconds when she was suddenly jolted awake.
“Time to get up, Kiethara,” Aaron called loudly, filling her clearing with light.
“No,” she mumbled with a groan, pulling her robe over her head.
“Yes. Much to do, so little time. You know how it is.”
“That is not how I want it to be,” she complained.
“I’m not going to give you any more alternatives, Kiethara,” Aaron sighed. “Come on, up.”
Her toasty warm robe peeled off in a sudden gust of wind. The cold air finally shook her resolve; she opened her eyes and pulled herself up.
“I’ll meet you in the center of the forest.”
As soon as his light faded away, she stood up and reached for her vine belt. She was careful not to look at her sword yet; instead, she allowed the anticipation to curl in her stomach. She remembered its beauty and she wanted to keep it special.
Kiethara smiled to herself as she finally looked up to see its hilt glittering in the morning sun. It truly was a dazzling piece of work. It was even elegant when her clumsy hands unsheathed it.
She marveled its sleek edges all the way to her lake, where she carefully laid it on the grass while she got a drink of water and washed up. After hooking it to her waist, checking the lakes reflection to see how it looked, she made her way to the center of the forest.
Aaron was waiting for her, just as he promised.
“Sword out and please take your vine belt off,” he ordered.
She followed his instructions, weighing the blade in her hand. It felt nice, right, but it certainly was not light.
“Today, we will go over the basics of sword techniques. When used properly, a sword can be a very powerful weapon. It is more accurate than a bow and more defendable than a spear. The only downfall is that it is not easy to conceal, and it is not rare, either. There will be other people armed with this weapon. The element of surprise will not help you. There is only one thing that will give you an advantage: skill. And that is what we will be working on.”
Kiethara nodded, absorbing everything he said like a wet cloth. She had expected nothing less, but the sore muscles in her arms were subtle reminders of the pain associated with working hard.
“Before you begin, I think I should explain to you why your sword is designed the way it is,” he said.
Kiethara’s eyes widened. “There’s a reason?”
“Of course. Why else would all the swords be designed differently if there was no reason behind it? No, there are many reasons. First, the hilt is made to match the same metal of the guardian’s bracelets; in your case, gold, although it is only a thin coating a-top a lighter metal. Also, the stone, gem, or crystal you have in your bracelets are represented in the hilt as well. These places vary from guardian to guardian, but they all have one of their crystals placed in the pommel.”
“What about the other details?”
“That is a little more exact, depending on the guardian’s personal traits and taste. I’m sure you find the sword to your liking?”
“Yes, thank you, Aaron.”
“Your gratitude is not necessary,” he chuckled. “However, you are welcome.”
Kiethara twisted her sword in the sunlight, watching the diamonds glisten, pensive. Gandador had a sword, one he had probably owned for quite some time. No doubt he knew how to use it.
“Let us start,” Aaron said, making her jump.
“All right…”
“You are a fast learner, Kiethara, but sword training is different. You have only trained with your emotions, because that is the key to your powers; however, it is different in sword to sword combat. The less emotion you let cloud your judgment, the better advantage you will hold. Only very rarely does emotion help you win in a sword battle and, in your case, it can be different. You might be fighting well, but what if your hands burst into flames and you lose concentration?
“We will start with the basic defense this first week. Only with a good defense can you eventually perfect an offense.
“Now, Kiethara, I will come at you, and you will block me.”
Aaron turned around and picked something off the grass she had not spotted before. It was a long stretch of wood, shaped like a blade and sharpened to a fine point. She could fully understand the reason behind it; if he had been using his own sword, her eyes would be bleeding after the first five minutes.
Aaron lunged with the tip of the wood pointed directly at her heart. She clumsily grasped her sword with two hands and knocked it away, but before she could blink he whipped the sword down and knocked her legs out from under her. With a gasp, she hit the ground.
“Ow!” she complained.
“This is not the time for me to go easy on you, so I will not apologize. Your reactions are slow and you need to be a bit more graceful. Maybe we should work on your upper body strength first, though,” Aaron mused as the sword dropped out of her hand as she pulled herself up.
“I’m not doing push-ups all day,” she growled. Not after she had received a sword to wield.
“All right, as long as you continue the physical training I made you do every day, five times a day. Add an extra ten pull-ups to that, too.”
She moaned, throwing her head back. Maybe she was being a bit lazy, but she was just so sore. As soon as she had returned to the forest, Aaron had done nothing but pound her with technique after technique and task after task. Gandador had not reared his ugly head in the forest for weeks!
“Never mind that now, Kiethara, just raise your sword and get ready. Watch carefully, for I will move slowly.”
He did the same straight lunge at her heart as he had done before, but in a slower motion. This time she was a bit more prepared; she knocked it aside. In the same exaggerated motion he redirected his blow towards her legs. She jumped over his blade and brought her sword down on his shoulder.
It rebounded off Aaron as though he were made of metal. The sound echoed off the trees loudly, sending a flock of birds into the air.
“Huh,” she commented as she watched the birds fly away.
“Good,” he said, ignoring the response her blow had received. “But concentrate on blocking my blows today, not just on hitting me.”
“Yes, Aaron.”
“What you want to do is take advantage of your size. You’re small and light, so your defense will be better if you keep on your toes and continuously move, making sure to keep your back protected. One mistake can mean your life—I mean this literally. Take heed to my words.”
“I always do,” she said to her defense.
“Well, listen to me twice as hard then,” he said gravely. “Say you decided not to keep light on your toes, but instead you planted your feet. You just gave your opponent an advantage, because physically Gandador could push you back and corner you.”
Kiethara finally processed his mood. He was more serious then she had ever seen him before and behind his hardened tones lay something else. Why was he so staid about the idea of her with a tangible weapon?
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Kiethara, you must unde
Kiethara frowned. Out of everything, she did not expect to die by the blade of a sword. Gandador had lost his mind, anyway, so he didn’t want to kill her. Instead, he wanted to gorge the crystals out of her wrists in a fruitless attempt to make himself become a guardian. That might require a sword, but still…
“Aaron,” she said slowly. “Did a guardian die in a sword fight?”
He was silent for a minute. He then took a deep breath.
“My great-grandsons.”
“Grandsons?” she asked.
“Yes, they were twins. It is possible for there to be two guardians, if the previous guardian conceives them as such. It is rare, and each guardian only gets one bracelet. Other than that, nothing is different, except for double the fighting force. The forest was never attacked when word got out that there were two. It had only happened twice, this time and one other.”
“Then how did they die by a blade if they weren’t even attacked?” she asked.
“They weren’t attacked by others.”
“They fought each other?” she gasped.
“They both held an exceptionally large amount of power and they were both proud men. Eventually, the annoyance and frustration of guarding together got to be too much for them. One day, they drew their swords and brawled each other to death.
“It wasn’t a long fight. One of them had a harder build, and the other decided that if he planted his feet and blocked his brother’s blows, he would eventually wear him out. In one wrong move, he was stabbed.
“He did not die right away, but bled slowly. In that moment his brother finally saw what he had done. He desperately tried to save his wounded companion, but it was too late. He caught a fever that would not break and then, two nights later, he died.”
A profound silence filled the air around them. Kiethara did not know how to respond. He had just revealed to her the past of another guardian—guardians, she corrected herself. She had never dreamed of sharing the power with a sibling. What if Gandador managed to take one of her bracelets while she held on to the other? Would they both be guardians then? She wanted to ask him, but her question seemed insensitive with the brutal ending of the story.
“I’m sorry, Aaron,” she finally managed.
“It’s fine. The past is the past, but to avoid history from repeating itself we must be aware of our mistakes and learn from them.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “But I have a question.”
“Oh?”
“If it’s possible for there to be two guardians, could it not be possible for Gandador to become one?”
Aaron laughed, breaking all tension. “Heavens no! He has nothing. He is no descendant of mine. Soon, Kiethara, very soon, you will understand just how much magic you possess. If Gandador ever attempted it, he would die.”
“He would die?”
“You will soon learn—I do not wish to reveal any more on that matter—the immense power of this forest. Every person alive right now could cut down a tree from this forest and make a potion out of it, and there would still be enough forest and magic left to supply the next generation. You can hold all of that power without dying. He would die instantaneously, as though he had drowned.”
Kiethara gaped at him. “Really?”
“Don’t get excited, Kiethara. You would not die, but you would suffer. Holding that much power does have its disadvantages. If you ever took in too much, you would start to feel heavy; your breathing would be shallow and physical activities would become strenuous. Your heart would be beating so fast it would be impossible to sleep; you would sweat yourself until the point of dehydration. Your thoughts would be clouded and you wouldn’t be able to focus. It’s much worse than I can possibly describe. Most of the guardians kept a low amount at hand and then they take from the forest whenever they want.”
He paused for a moment. “Of course, you cannot draw too much power in your state. If you do it too early, you could die just as Gandador will.”
“What?” she asked, perplexed.
“This is something I will explain later, when it is necessary. The information would only confuse and disturb you. But very soon, many things will become clear to you. You may notice that I leave many points undefined and I feel bad for doing so, but at the time it is compulsory to do so. I know you question how people take magic from the forest and I know you have a vague idea. You question your past as well as your future. You question your powers, and many other things. Fortunately, one day I will reveal to you all of those answers.”
“How do you know all this?” she whispered.
She could practically feel the smile stretch across his featureless face. “That answer is not ready to be revealed to you either.”
She said nothing, but her fingers were clenched in some unknown emotion. The sword in her hand felt hot, heavy, and very crude. She wanted to drop the crafted weapon, its size and power suddenly seeming arrogant to her, and resort to the subtle elegance and easy swiftness her powers provided her. For a reason she knew not, Aarons chilling words sparked a burst of adrenaline through her veins as her heart beat became quicker. She suddenly wanted to do something. She wanted to take Gandador by the collar and fling him out to sea; she wanted to take Sinsenta’s dagger and stab him through his heart. Standing there only seemed to make the feeling worse. Everything was building inside her; fear of Aaron’s words, stress of the unknown, suspense from her prowling enemies, and confusion on just what was on her side.
Aaron said he would explain all of this soon, and she wanted to take reassurance in that promise. She needed to be confidant that she would have a future. More than anything, she needed to be confidant that she could protect the forest. And maybe, just maybe, she could have the peace due to her.
On top of everything else that swirled inside of her, happiness welled up in her heart.
“Let us duel,” Aaron said.
She wanted nothing more.