The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series (13 page)

There was some time before the tests were supposed to start, so he took his time getting to the assembling field. Some of the students were already gathering in small groups.

Flare spent the time stretching and warming up.

As the starting time approached, more and more of the students arrived. Once again, the students were assembled into formation, and then split into three groups.
 

A general addressed the assembled students, “Today’s’ tests are to see what types of soldiering skills you already possess. These skills are not quite as necessary as those that were tested yesterday, because these skills can be taught to you. However, do not think that these tests are not important, because each of you will be judged on how you handle yourself overall.” The general dismissed the students to their tests.

The first test for Flare’s group was horsemanship. The student’s ability to control a horse through an obstacle course was the main skill being tested. The course had traps, jumping hurdles, and low hanging obstacles that the rider and horse had to deal with. He performed well in his two times through the course, finishing about middle of the pack in the judges opinion. Flare was displeased in his finish, but satisfied that he passed.

The next area of testing was the weaponry. While several common weapons were tested, the two most critical weapons were the sword and the bow. In today’s testing, the judges easily outnumbered the students. In the weaponry tests, the amateur students fought expert instructors. This tended to keep injuries to a minimum, although from time to time injuries did occur.

Flare was easily the best in archery, but several humans were close. He hit the target every time, regardless of whether he was standing still or moving, or whether or not the target was moving.

In the sword test, he was extremely disappointed in his performance, but still he received a good score. The instructor quickly disarmed him, while managing to avoid the moves that Flare tried to use against him. Flare, like most of the students, performed poorly with the other weapons that were tested, such as the mace and the ax.

After the completion of the weaponry testing, the students were dismissed for lunch. Flare was thoroughly disgusted with his performance so far today and ate his meager lunch in silence, trying not to think about it. After eating, he headed to the competition field, and waited for the rest of the students to reappear.

To
Flare’s
surprise, the reading, writing, and recognition skills were tested next. He performed flawlessly, and made it to the next stage.

The next skill tested was unarmed combat. Here the students were pitted against each other in one to one tests of physical skill. The first match for Flare pitted him against a short and skinny human male. Flare had wrestled with elven youths as he grew up, and sergeant Wellmann had taught him as much as he could in the four weeks they had trained together. His opponent apparently had never wrestled with anybody, because Flare quickly got a grip on the young man’s arm and used the leverage to force the man to the ground. Once he had him on the ground, he shoved his knee into the man’s back until the judges declared him the winner.

Flare’s enthusiasm diminished when he saw his next opponent. He was simply huge, he was close to seven feet tall, and weighed in excess of two hundred and seventy pounds. He was not the typical Telurian citizen. In fact, he probably was a foreigner. He had long brown hair past his shoulders, was extremely tan, and wore clothes made of a coarse fabric.

They faced each other in the small circle where they would fight. The giant gave Flare a menacing stare, and waited for the judges.

“Start,” called the judge.

Flare had expected the giant to be slow because of his size, but was surprised by his speed. As soon as the fight started, the giant was in Flare’s face trying to end this fight quick.

Flare broke to his right trying to keep the huge man from getting a grip on him, but was tripped as he attempted to slide past the giant. He went down on one knee, and was tackled by his opponent. They rolled over, with Flare winding up on top. The giant was holding him by the right arm, while Flare was leaning over him. Resting on his left knee, Flare quickly found out that his adversary had no intention of letting him get up. He lashed a left handed punch, and landed the blow on the giant’s face.

The giant simply smiled at him. “If that’s the hardest you can hit, you might as well quit now.”

Flare’s response was to bring his right knee up as hard as he could into the giant’s groin. He was pleased when a sharp look of pain appeared on the face of the giant.

“Is that better?” Flare shot back.

Using the momentary weakness of his opponent, Flare propelled himself backwards and away from the giant.

The giant rolled over and attempted to stand up. As he knelt there, attempting to stand, he lost track of Flare’s whereabouts, and was rewarded with a kick to his face. His nose exploded in a crimson gusher, but the man forced himself off of the ground to his feet.

Flare knew this was his chance, and tried to press his advantage. The giant who was now standing, roared a battle cry, and charged. Once again he attempted to escape to the right, but this time the giant was expecting it, and grabbed him and wrapped his long arms around him in a massive bear hug. Flare tried to slam his head into the face of the giant, but was unable to reach him. Starting to panic, and unable to breathe, he was starting to see yellow blotches. He kicked futility, and then remembered no more.

Flare woke up, with the judge leaning over him.

“Lie still, and catch your breath,” the judge said.

“I lost, does that mean I failed out of the guardians?” were the first words out of Flare’s mouth, as panic surged through him.

The judge grinned, “You lost, but against that monster I didn’t give you a chance anyway. You should be proud of how well you did.” The judge grinned in a friendly way, “Actually, since he underestimated you, your opponent’s score is lower than yours.
Rest here as long as you like, I'm needed elsewhere.”

The judge left, leaving Flare to smile at losing and getting a good score. He leaned back in the shade. There was a cool breeze, and he reclined there with his hands placed behind his back. He closed his eyes and rested.

“You fight well,” said a voice from behind him.

Flare twisted on his back to see who had spoke, and was surprised to see the giant foreigner.

“Thanks,” Flare replied. “You fight pretty
good
yourself.”

The big man smiled.
 
“I like you little man. What’s your name?”

“My name is Flaranthlas, but I prefer to be called Flare,” Flare said, standing.

They grasped hands as the giant said, “My name is Enton. The next time I fight, I want you fighting beside me, not against me.”

Flare took this as a compliment, and was rightfully flattered. The giant fighter soon left. A hopeful feeling spread through him. 'He accepted me as a fellow soldier,' Flare thought with amazement, 'Perhaps I can do this after all.'

He had lost track of time, and was surprised that it was already getting dark. After speaking to a judge, he found out that he had survived another day. He was so tired and sore, that he hardly even realized that he had passed all the physical tests and skill competitions.

Tomorrow was the last day of the competition. Tomorrow, Flare would go before a tribunal of nobles and officers, and would have to answer their questions. This was the last part of the test, and it was the last obstacle to him becoming a guardian.

Flare returned to his tent, undressed, and laid down on the bed, intending to take a quick nap before dinner. He was soon sound asleep.

When Flare woke up the next morning, he could barely get out of bed. His whole body ached, and was extremely stiff.

He spent a few minutes stretching, hoping that it would ease the soreness of his muscles, but he couldn’t tell if it did any good.

He got dressed slowly, and straightened up his tent.

Leaving his room, he meandered slowly in the early morning coolness. Flare’s stomach started growling, since he had not eaten any dinner the night before.

After a quick breakfast of fruits, cheese, and bread, Flare strolled to the assembling field. He waited patiently as the remaining students began to gather. He was surprised by how few students were still left.

“Good Morning, Flare,”
came
a familiar voice from behind Flare.

Flare turned as sergeant Wellmann approached. “Good morning,” He said with a huge grin on his face.
“Only one more day to go.”

“Don't forget about today’s test. You must pass this review, or you fail. You have done wonderfully, but do not get overconfident.”

“But sergeant, this review is a measure of the student’s character; I shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“I hope you’re right, but they will try to trick you and catch you in your words. Just remember to take your time, and be honest. In the short time that I have known you, I have come to respect you as a person. You should do fine.”

“Sergeant, how many people are on the tribunal?” Flare asked.

“By tradition, there are seven members, and they each get to vote on whether or not the student becomes a guardian. Four of the seven members have to vote you in.”

Shortly thereafter, the students were assembled, and the last test was explained to them. There were over a hundred different tribunal review boards, so they expected to review all the students by sundown.

Flare’s group was taken to a small temporary building that had been hastily put together underneath an oak tree.

Once there, they were assigned a number which represented the order in which they would be interviewed. Flare was disappointed to see that he had been given a number that was next to last. Make it or not, he simply wished to get it over with.

His anxiety began to grow, as the first students entered the building. The first student to be interviewed was a young woman. She went into the building, and remained in there for almost half an hour. She emerged in tears.

The review process moved slowly. By lunch, only a third of the students had been in to see the tribunal.

The day seemed to last forever, as Flare awaited his turn to enter. This morning he had thought that this test was a simple one, but the longer it took to get it over with, the more his impatience mounted.

It was approaching sundown, when finally, it was his turn to be allowed before the tribunal. He entered the makeshift building, and found himself in a small waiting room. He waited for several minutes before being ushered into the tribunal room. It was much darker than the waiting room, and he waited several moments for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior.

As his eyes adjusted, he noticed seven men sitting around a table. Three of the men appeared to be wearing military uniforms, and the other four were nobles.

“Welcome petitioner, state your name.”

Flare could not tell which person had spoken, but he answered quickly, “My name is Flaranthlas.”

“Ah yes.
The elven prince who would become a guardian.”
This time he did see who had spoken; it was a dark haired man who was sitting second from the left. It was Duke Angaria. His anxiety increased dramatically, the Duke had interrupted the king in order to object to Flare's presence. Now, instead of needing four of seven votes to get into the guardians, he needed four of the other six members to vote in his favor.

The Duke continued speaking, “Why should we allow you into the guardians? Why should we train our enemies to fight? If we train our enemies, will they not use our own tactics to defeat us?”

Flare felt his face flush. “I am not your enemy, neither are the elves. You seem to forget that my father is, or was a member of the human delegation to the elven court. Chances are that I am the son of a human noble. Is the fact that I was raised in a foreign land enough of a reason to disown me?”

“You are a poison, and to allow you to contaminate the guardians would be an absolute disaster. I will ...”

The Duke was interrupted by the man who was sitting directly in the middle. “Duke Angaria, please follow the format of the tribunal. Personal attacks and political opinions are not to affect our purpose. We must treat each applicant fairly.”

A calmer Duke Angaria replied, “Of course, General. I will be fair, of course, in my decision.”

Flare doubted this, but he also saw in it a way to turn the tribunal in his favor. If he could bait the Duke into another outburst, perhaps he could turn the other members against Angaria. He clung to a glimmer of hope.

The general, who had previously spoken, continued, “Flaranthlas, each member of this tribunal will ask you a single question. After all seven questions have been answered, we will vote on whether or not to allow you into the guardians. We will ask questions in order from your right to your left. Do you have any questions before we begin?”

“No, General.” Flare replied, calmly.

The officer to the far right asked the first question. He was a middle aged man whose black hair had not yet started showing any gray. His nose had been broken in a fight, and he had sharp penetrating eyes that seemed to bore right through you. Although he was an officer, he had the appearance of nobility as well. He asked what seemed like a fairly routine question. “Flaranthlas, would you die in defense of Telur?”