The Seeker’s Apprentice (Chapter 6): Expectations
“We don't rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training.” -Archilochus
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Previously on The Seeker’s Apprentice:
After a harrowing first experience upon their arrival at the training grounds, Nadira is introduced to Jorund’s mentor. But he is less than welcoming. Not the impression she expected, and she’s beginning to realize she just might be in over her head.
Chapter 6: Expectations
There wasn’t much sleep to be had that night. Though the bed was more comfortable than anything Nadira had ever lain on back home, it still felt uneasy. And Mack’s words stuck with her like glue, echoing relentlessly around her brain. She was certain he intended it that way, to be the invisible cattle prod. Much like Jorund. Only his prodding wasn’t intentional. Merely a glance here and a brush of skin there. Annoyingly effective at keeping her mind in places it should not wander.
Turning herself on her side, she tried to push these uncomfortable thoughts away. The shrieking cries of the Tyvilern still wailed in the distance and she tuned herself into their rhythm. Though Jorund spoke of their dastardly ways, she couldn’t help but find a certain reverence in their call. To her, it didn’t seem like just noise. There were patterns in the sound, a kind of melancholic wave blustering about on the wind. A strange lullaby but it seemed to suit her, edging her closer to the sleep she so desperately needed.
When the silence finally fell, she drifted into a dream and found herself walking amongst the forest trees back home. The sun had ushered its warm midday beams about the land, fighting the lush overgrowth below the canopy for air.
Weaving around the forest floor, her hands remembering the coarse bark, the smell of rich pine and river water at her nose, she heard barely a sound but her own heartbeat. The wind had trouble navigating through the thick so each leaf felt barely a whisper. And all the creatures that would make their presence known had suddenly gone silent. She was beginning to think her ears had been tampered with.
As she came through a patch of tousled brush, she was met with a wide clearing, the grass green, littered with flowers of every shade. It was here, she paused, laying herself amongst the softened blades, closing her eyes to absorb the sunlight.
She didn’t notice the movement. Not until it pounced, landing two monstrous feet on the ground with a heavy thud. Opening her eyes, the beast roared, its mouth full of teeth, all needle sharp, a string of saliva pooling at the edge of its lip. Its breath smelled as foul as the castle air, wretched and rotting. And the grumble in its belly rippled through each of its solid muscles.
It reared up, unfurling its wings until they stretched wider than she was tall, releasing a shrill howl before bringing them in with fierce swiftness as she tried to run. But it was too late. The creature spat at her with its jaw, clamping it tight around her throat, its teeth piercing the flesh of her neck.
She sat up in bed, her heart racing, hand grasping at her throat, thankful it was all still in one piece. The light of dawn filtered slowly in through the narrow window, casting its small beams across her stomach. The sound that hit her now was loud, pounding, even more so than that of the Tyvilern. Soon, she realized it wasn’t a creature at all, but a bell. So that’s what he meant, she thought.
Rubbing her aching head and eyes, she pushed off the bed, stretching her legs. She could find no spare clothes to speak of, and, considering the warm welcome she received yesterday, she didn’t have much faith they would be providing her with any. Luckily, she did manage to remember one useful skill her mother taught her, making her own clothes.
For now, though, that would have to wait. And, while the stench of a three day trek atop a dragon’s hide left something to be desired, she doubted her lack of cleanliness would go noticed around here. At least until she could find a decent waterway to bath in.
Replacing her daggers in their housing across her back, she waded out into the hallway. The stone walls held on to their chill so she was thankful for the roaring fire she found billowing back in the great hall. She was alone at the moment, using the early morning light to peer around. She didn’t recognize the homeliness last night, too occupied by the screeching and the tense atmosphere. Today, however, it was lighter, and not just with the sun.
Looking around the room, three long, heavy wooden tables were laid out side to side, spanning almost the entire space. The walls were strewn with the usual things one might see in a castle, several tapestries and various artworks mixed among dead animal carcasses stuffed and mounted. Though none of them appeared cared for. There was a soft layer of dust, and every cranny held a spiderweb that was long since abandoned.
A great shield held itself against the wall above the fireplace, two swords crossed behind it. Both looked worn and battle scarred, the former with a film of patina as though it had sat unused for many years.
“The shield of Sigurd, the first Ekzeteo. Well, that we know of.” Jorund’s voice came echoing from behind her and she turned to face him, finding her breath shorter than it had been a moment before.
His hair still dangled wildly at the tips of his eyes, but the rest of him looked different. Brighter. Perhaps she had just never seen him this clean. Everything was in its place again, sword laid against his back, his tunic tucked neatly into his trousers, though there sat but a glimpse of his bare collarbone. She tried not to think about it.
He stood patient, hands folded behind him, his lips wearing a warm smile, though she thought she noticed less of a return through his eyes. Still, they had a way of piercing through her to a depth even her blade could not reach. And there sat that uncomfortable pull again, that tug neither of them dared to utter aloud.
“Are you hungry?”
She laughed nervously, relieved by the break in the tension, “Starving.”
Soon the hall filled with the others, all gathered around the tables. Not only other seekers, but a few servants as well. As she expected, many of the eyes were on her, taking her in. It did make her wonder. Jorund seemed more at home around them, each reliving their trials and quests over breakfast to a chorus of laughs and hearty praise. Nadira was surprised to see he wasn’t the smallest of the group. In fact, he outstretched many of them in height and broadly. Definitely not like the stories she had been told.
But she noticed there was one who was not among them. “Where’s Mack?”
“Miss me that much, lass?” As though he had heard her call, he strolled in, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves as he took a seat at the head of the table. The entire hall went silent, mouths suddenly otherwise occupied. A servant placed a plate of food in front of him but he kept his eyes glued on Nadira, the corner of his mouth widening up in a grin. It appeared everyone else was following his cue because they all erupted in laughter.
“All right, all right. Settle down,” he said. His mood seemed to have lost some of its edge this morning and Nadira relaxed a little. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have a new greenhorn among us. Look, it should go without saying, despite my reservations on whether a woman would be fit to join our ranks, Jorund seems to believe she belongs here. That remains to be seen. However, in either case, she is not here for your amusement, so I trust you all would remember your place. Do I make myself clear?”
There came a quiet but affirmative grumble amongst the others as they kept their heads relatively settled and low.
“Good. Now, to our assignments. Jax, the village of Tomehall has asked we send someone to hunt down a Bardinger. Rather nasty one it sounds like. Take Klest with you, he could use the experience.”
Two of the men got up, not wasting any time. “Aye.”
“Oh and Klest,” he began, “keep your eyes and hands up, all right? The last time we came up against one of these, it nearly took Ayunda’s head off.”
A soft chuckle rippled through the men as a few patted the back of a fellow seeker further down the table.
The man stood, wide-eyed, giving a meek nod before the two exited the main door.
One by one, he went down the line, calling names, handing out the work that needed to be done. Until Jorund and Nadira were the only two left.
“And you two, hit the training field. Jorund, I’ve set the entire reputation of this house on the line for you. Do not make me regret it.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Greenie, out there, the moment you fold, is the moment you die. You would do well to remember that.”
“I don’t fold,” said Nadira, stiffening her posture as she got up to follow Jorund out the door.
“Lass, everyone folds. Just make certain you don’t take anyone else down with you when it happens.”
His eyes bored into hers, as though he saw everything. As if he knew what she had brewing within. And that was the look that stayed with her when they left the hall, Nadira on Jorund’s heels.
The story continues…
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Well now! Our girl's all kinds of excited about that glimpse of collar bone, isn't she?
Can only wonder how long that excitement lasts once the training begins and she takes her first few wallops for getting distracted...