The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian (31 page)

They were looking to kill him.

How had he gotten himself into such a mess,
again
? Did he lack the basic social ability that so many others possessed? Why couldn’t he be more charismatic like Trin or Murai? What would his uncle do in such a position?

The questions bombarded his mind even as he cast about for some way out of the pointless engagement, until his eyes found Liri’s. For some inexplicable reason, her expression carried amusement!

Taryn felt the anger rush to his head. How could Liri laugh at him now? Before he could say anything through his churning emotions, Liri spoke up.

"As the law states . . . never
spill the blood
of another elf," she called out, allowing the implication to hang in the air.

In that moment he saw what she meant, and it seemed like a small light had appeared through the clouds. He couldn’t cut them, but
he could hurt them
. "Don't hurt them too bad, Taryn," she added with a mischievous chuckle, "except their pride—you can hurt
that
as much as you want." She began to laugh before sitting against a tree and munching on a piece of fruit, as calm as a summer’s breeze.

His anger towards Liri had already begun to dissipate, but he still didn’t appreciate her cavalier attitude. Frowning, he turned back towards the stone-faced elves.
Fine
, he thought darkly and met the elven captain’s gaze. "Let's get this over with then." He sighed in resignation and slowly reached for his weapons—

Exploding into action, Taryn leapt to the left at the nearest elf ten feet away—strategically the opposite side from Denithir and Ren. Before the elf could draw a weapon, Taryn smashed a fist into his temple. Time seemed to slow for Taryn as he turned to a small group of elves reaching for their swords. In the half-second it took for the first elf's unconscious form to hit the ground, he ghosted his way through and around the elven guard while knocking out several more.  Edric, his master in unarmed combat, had taught him several ways to incapacitate an opponent. In this current battle he couldn't use lethal or severely damaging points—but that still left several places to target.

Taryn used every one of them.

Slipping between elves like a leaf in the wind, he led with a knife edge of his hand, leaving still forms in his wake. When the last in line managed to turn towards him, Taryn smashed his forehead into the elf’s face and he crumpled without a sound.

The first elf's unconscious form hit the ground and time sped up. About a third of the elves were already out of the fight, but that left more than half a score of furious elves with weapons drawn. Unsure if he'd be able to restrain the magic in his father’s sword, he drew Ianna and threw the sword out to block strike after strike. Knowing they would move to flank him, he allowed them to move around his sides before abruptly leaping into a high forward flip that carried him over the heads of those still in front of him. Twisting in midair and landing facing the backs of several elves, he heard a low chuckle from the side of the meadow and knew that Liri was enjoying herself.

The unexpected maneuver left quite a few surprised and struggling to turn around, but he didn’t give them the chance. The instant his feet touched the ground, he darted to their backs and took out three more with precision blows before anyone could put a blade in his direction—but the elves were quick to adapt. A desperate, off-balance thrust forced him to dodge backward and allowed the others time to attack.

Suddenly a thin sword darted in, seeking his heart, but Taryn swatted it aside with the tip of Ianna, and leapt in with a lightning fast punch that sent the attacker sprawling into the elf next to him. The two went down in a tangle of arms and legs while the rest of the elves rushed to flank him again. 

Again he allowed them to surround him while whipping Ianna as fast as he could to block the cascade of blows in his direction. Once they had circled him, he made to jump and watched as they tried to thrust upward where he would have been. The second their eyes lifted skyward, he dropped to the ground. Extending his leg, he spun and dropped several that were too close. Before the others could react, he dived towards two elves that were on the ground next to each other. Snapping his sword out and up, he blocked a weak strike and managed to land on the other side of them in a quick roll. Rising to his feet, he smacked the flat of his blade against one elf's head and he dropped with a groan. One sharp kick knocked out another elf on the ground, but the last one rolled away before he could get him.

Only a handful of elves still remained with their captain and Ren—who he'd purposefully left no opportunity to close with.  Hiding a smile, he watched as they tried to surround him again. They had evidently been trained to surround a numerically weaker opponent so he could be decimated—and Taryn didn’t hesitate to exploit their tactics. This time the remaining elves approached with more caution, slowly moving in without striking. A quick head count in the lull revealed only seven elves left standing.

Hoping for a quick ending, he asked, "Has this been a sufficient test?"

Without responding they all struck as one. Deadly blades reached out high and low towards his body. If he hadn't been moving he would have been sliced by several weapons . . . but their blades only found his shadow. Ducking under a high blade that had been aimed at his head, he crouched and whirled towards the ring of elves. In one fluid movement he continued the spin between two elves, grabbed an elf’s leg as he slipped through the deadly circle, yanked him off balance in the direction of his companions, and, as they fell, stood and smashed his gloved hand into his temple.

Ready for the instant response, he backed away with his sword extended towards the four elves in front of him. The elven captain looked furious, but Ren's expression actually appeared amused as he advanced on Taryn with his daggers up and ready. One of the elves Taryn had tripped stood up groggily and tried to rejoin the fight.

With so few opponents left he could not ignore his greatest adversaries, Ren and Denithir. Locking eyes with Ren he said quietly, "I haven't cut anyone yet, and I am not going—"

In a flash he batted aside an extended short sword and leapt towards its wielder. Elbowing him in the head, he turned back around in time to quickly parry three blades in succession. Another sword reached out to cut him, and he was forced to jump backwards to avoid the flashing blade of the captain.

Instead of continuing to retreat, he barely touched his feet to the ground before knocking a sweeping attack aside and leaping forward. Rolling his sword around the elf's blade in a circular motion, he slipped past his guard and slapped the end of his sword against the elf’s hand hard enough to force the blade from his palm. As it spun into the shadows, Taryn blocked the three remaining swords in a ring of steel. The weaponless elf tried to back off and search for another weapon, but Taryn didn’t give him the opportunity. Bolting towards him, Taryn blasted past him with his free arm extended, hitting him in the chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him and smashing him brutally to the ground, gasping for air.

Knowing the remaining three elves would be at his back, Taryn did the thing they least expected. Crouching, he jumped high, flipping backwards over the expected charge. Only Ren reacted quickly enough to get a blade up while Taryn flew over their heads. In midair, Taryn twisted and knocked the weapon away before landing in a crouch behind them. Denithir and Ren were already halfway turned around, but the third elf hadn't responded fast enough. Ianna's long steel flashed in the sunlight, reaching out towards the elf and smacking him on the side of the head.

Only two left
.

Ren sidestepped to get some room and chuckled. "Not bad Taryn, not bad at all."

Taryn backed away from the two fighters. Allowing a group to get around him was one thing but letting these two at his sides would be deadly—at least with only one sword.  Reaching back, he slowly drew his father’s sword and extended both weapons towards his two remaining adversaries. At the sight of the second katsana they both hesitated, glancing at each other uncertainly.

"Are we going to finish this so we can continue our quest?" Taryn asked, unable to keep the sadness from his voice.

 An instant later two swords leapt for his death while he spun to defend himself. Reversing his mother’s sword he carefully blocked each strike from Denithir on his left while using the bulk of his attention to parry Ren's lightning fast daggers. Mazer whipped back and forth to block the shorter weapons before they could get close enough to strike.

Ringing filled the meadow as steel clashed for several minutes while all three looked for an opening. Ren found one first. Feinting, he knocked the longer weapon aside and leapt in with his other dagger, a cry of victory on his lips—but the opening had been a ruse. Taryn had shifted his feet and sidestepped the deadly thrust for his chest, sheathing his mothers sword at the same time.  Ren was so close that Taryn could feel his breath on his face as he rolled around the elf’s body, hooking his left arm around Ren's neck as he went. The small form struggled in his grip in an effort to reach back and stab Taryn in the leg, but to no avail. Taryn braced his feet, and stopped hard, transferring his momentum into Ren's body.  With a twist of his upper body he tossed him like a sack of flour to land several feet away. Continuing his roll until he faced Denithir, he bought himself time to parry his attack.

Suddenly Taryn was sick of fighting his allies. Drawing his mothers’ sword again, he brought both swords to bear, relentlessly attacking the elven captain from all sides. Overwhelming his defenses in moments, he disarmed him and kicked him full in the chest. Tripping over a fallen elf and flying backwards, Denithir landed in a heap almost ten feet away. In a heartbeat Taryn snapped around to face Ren as he slowly stood up, pointing Mazer at his rising form.

Ren stared at him; then snorted and shook his head. "I think it's safe to say that if you were an enemy of the elves you could have killed us all."

Denithir coughed and sat up, fighting to breathe. "You have proven your loyalty . . . Taryn Elseerian."

Bowing slightly in acknowledgement of Denithir’s concession, Taryn sheathed his swords and grabbed a water skin. He took a quick drink for himself before tossing it to Denithir, who caught it deftly as he stood, massaging his chest where Taryn had kicked him.

"I am here to serve, my captain." Taryn said, and the sincerity in his tone set the elven captain aback.

In that moment, Denithir seemed to come to a conclusion and his attitude shifted. "I will never question you again, Taryn. Welcome to my command."

For the first time he saw a hint of warmth in the captain’s eyes and realized that he may have finally managed to prove himself. Ren welcomed him as well, although in a different way—with a hard punch to the shoulder.

"I had to hit you at least once," the small elf said gruffly without looking at him. Despite the bluster, Taryn saw it for what it was—an honorable warrior conceding defeat.

In response Taryn gave a cautious smile. "You are quick with those daggers, my friend, and I want you to show me some of your techniques."

Grinning for the first time since he'd met Taryn, Ren responded, "Only if you can show me some of yours in return." Something in his tone and eyes made Taryn realize there was a deeper meaning to his comment, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. A groan from the ground distracted him and looking down, he saw Liri trying to revive an elf. Guilt washed over him and he stooped to help.

Before he could say anything, Liri murmured, "Ren doesn’t know how you did it."

He met her gaze with a raised eyebrow, so she added, "You were far stronger and smarter than he expected”— her brow furrowed—“and faster . . . than even I expected," she said, her brow still creased in confused concentration, trying to puzzle out what she'd seen.

He shrugged and started to drip some water on the half-conscious elf, but Liri grabbed his elbow, forcing him to look at her again.

"You were faster than I have ever seen you, Taryn." Her intense gaze burrowed into him. "You were better today than any time I have seen you fight, even at the Acabi."

"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised by her comments.

She shook her head in confusion. "I'm not sure. You have always been fast and strong and smart, but this was different. You were so fast that I could barely see you, and you just knocked out a score of the best elven warriors in a matter of minutes—like they were children."

Further conversation was cut off as Denithir called to them, "Let's wake them up, we have a quest to complete." 

Taryn moved to another elf and began reviving him while he mulled over what Liri had said. Thinking back on the test, he realized he
had
been faster. Then a memory came to mind that pulled him up short. Something Murai had said a few years ago, what was it?

After a particularly tough practice fight, Murai had peered at him and said, "You are getting better Taryn."

"Thank you," he'd responded with a courteous bow, but Murai had cut him off.

"That's not what I mean—although you are getting better with a blade. I mean that your
innate
abilities are getting better, your speed, strength, and cunning. Those are the skills that you can only train to a certain point." His uncle had just stared at him with his eyebrows knitting together. "But you don't seem to have a limitation—or at least we haven't reached it yet." His eyes had then focused on Taryn, seeing his embarrassment for the first time, so he smiled disarmingly. "Let's work on your techniques against an axe shall we?"

Coming back to the present he pondered the fading memory. Had he still not reached his limits? Would he get even faster and stronger? How was that even possible? No person was limitless. He suddenly saw how the fight would have looked through Liri’s eyes. Taryn had taken down an elite elven guard without even using all of his skill. It should have been an
impossible
fight, unwinnable by all accounts.