Arbiter (The Arbiter Chronicles Book 1) (28 page)

Cienn nodded in response. If he noticed her flustered expression, he didn’t say anything about it, but his smile grew slightly as he turned away from her.

“As lovely as this conversation seems to be going, the High Lord seeks to meet with the Arbiter, alone. I will show her the way.” His eyes drifted towards Cathel. “Would you like to accompany me, brother? I would love to hear more about the human High Lord Alcian named
tarethan
.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” said Cathel, nodding once.

“Excellent,” said Cienn, flashing another smile. He turned towards Selde, and his smile faded slightly. “Selde, the High Lord will see you later. In the meantime, you can show the Lady Mikaela to her rooms, and consider what you will say to him when he asks why you nearly killed the Arbiter and the
tarethan
.”

Selde's mouth pulled into a grim line at Cienn’s words. Rae felt a small twinge of embarrassment and pain at the memory, quickly masked. She exhaled, slowly unclenching her fists. She wanted to tell the High Lord to go easy on him, but she knew that Selde had
acted rashly a few days ago. If Cathel hadn’t been as skilled as he was, they would have been killed.

“Arbiter?” asked Cienn, tilting his head slightly as he turned towards her.

Rae nodded. “I’m ready,” she said, following Cienn into the castle. Cathel walked behind her, hovering just over her right shoulder as they followed the mysterious Ivali into the entrance hall.

Berais’s castle was larger than Elrithea’s, and more inviting. The palace’s walls were mostly bare, aside from the occasional structure or banner, but the castle’s tiled floor was set in an intricate design of colors and patterns. The view from the windows, as Cienn led them through the halls, was breathtaking. This side of the castle overtook the river, and Rae caught sight of mists forming in the gorge below.

“How old is the castle?” asked Cathel to Cienn as they rounded a corner.

“The castle is young,” said Cienn. “It was built shortly after the Schism, along with Velleter and the other human settlements. It was the High Lord and his servants that decided to settle here.”

“I see,” said Cathel. He stepped forward, walking beside Rae as he turned towards Cienn. “And have you been serving High Lord Berais all that time?”

“No, brother,” said Cienn, his smile widening. “My appointment is new. I have been
tarethan
to Lord Berais for one hundred years now.”

One hundred years. Rae wondered how old Cienn was, that one hundred years would mean so little to him. The more she thought about it, the more she realized it didn’t really surprise her. Ania, after all, was one hundred and fifty. Her own twenty-two years suddenly seemed so small.

“And this is where we must leave you, Arbiter,” said Cienn, giving her a nod. He turned towards Cathel. “The High Lord will meet you later, I assume. In the meantime, is there anything you would like to see?’

Cathel glanced at Rae. She put what she hoped was a confident expression on her face, nodding at him. “Go on,” she said. “…It’s not the first High Lord I’ve had to deal with.”

He hesitated, but nodded once, turning towards Cienn. “…Does the castle have a library?”

“You underestimate us,” said Cienn, his smile widening into a grin.

Rae watched as the two of them walked away, then took a deep breath as she faced the double doors in front of her. They were wooden, and while they were very large, there wasn’t much about them that seemed terribly imposing. They weren’t the gates of Elrithea’s castle, or the broken ruins of Alcian’s glade, but there was an air about them that urged caution. This was Berais, she reminded herself. The High Lord that Elrithea
herself had seen fit to warn Rae about.

The hammer.

She exhaled, releasing the tension with her breath and opening the door.

It opened into a vast empty room, a set of great windows overlooking the canyon beyond them. The walls of the room were lined with weapons of all kinds—wooden and metal swords, spears, knives, bows, and other things Rae couldn’t name. Practice dummies also lined the walls on one side, some of them painted with targets, others simply lumps of straw vaguely shaped like a man. The floor here was completely smooth, and there were no decorations. It wasn’t hard to guess at the room’s purpose.

The High Lord stood with his back towards her, facing the window. Unlike Elrithea and Alcian, there was nothing immediately otherworldly about him. He was dressed in light blue, the same shade as Cienn had been wearing, and had long brown hair that fell past his shoulders. He was tall, and broad shouldered, and over his blue shirt he wore several links of glittering chain mail. She stared, momentarily surprised by the appearance of so much metal on him, before she raised her eyes to his. His eyes were a steel gray—nothing like Elrithea’s otherworldly gold, and the smile on his face as he turned towards her would almost have been fatherly. If she didn’t know better, she would have said that he was a human knight. A warrior, and dangerous, but still human.

She knew better, and the great spear that he held loosely in his hand like it weighed nothing reminded her that this was High Lord Berais, and this was someone to be feared.

The door closed behind her with an ominous click. Rae remained where she stood, not taking a step closer towards him. She felt Berais’s regard keenly, as he took note of her posture and appearance, his eyes finally landing on hers. Slowly, he nodded once.

“It is good to meet you, Arbiter,” he said. “I apologize for my apprentice’s rough handling.”

“It is good to meet you as well, High Lord,” she replied, inclining her head in a respectful bow. She didn’t take her eyes off him. He had the weapon, and he was the High Lord. “…Selde didn’t cause any permanent damage.”

“Regardless, I will have a talk with him about his rash actions later. In the meantime, I understand that you are here with a request.”

“Yes,” said Rae, not seeing any reason to beat around the bush. “…I need you to teach me Decadal Spell.”

Berais frowned at her. “You are aware, of course, that I will not simply give my spell to anyone who asks, Arbiter or no. If you want it, you must prove yourself worthy.”

“…Of course,” said Rae, nodding once. She took a deep breath. She had already been preparing for something like this. At least Berais was being upfront about it. Her experience with Elrithea still weighed heavily on her mind. Rae slowly exhaled, meeting his eyes. “Test me as you see fit.”

“Very well,” said Berais. “Elrithea has informed me that you have some training with the sword.”

Rae hesitated, thinking back to the lessons Cathel had been giving her. “Some,” she admitted. “But not much, and only with wood.”

He nodded as though he expected her answer. “It is enough,” he said. He inclined his head towards the wall on her left. “Choose your weapon.”

Rae glanced at the wall on her left. It held only metal weapons—weapons that Rae was almost certain held a live blade. She took a deep breath, glancing back at the High Lord. He was watching her, waiting expectantly. Rae turned away from him, nodding once and walking over to the wall. She lifted the swords one by one, testing their weight and their grip. At length, she settled on one that was most like Cathel’s, since it was his wooden practice sword that she had been training with. She picked it up, turning towards him.

Berais had set aside his spear, and was now hefting a heavy metal sword that looked about twice the size of hers.

She did not like where this was going.

“This is my test,” said Berais. “Attack me. If you manage to strike me once, I will recognize you as the legitimate Arbiter and give you my Decadal Spell. Ready yourself.” 

Rae took a deep breath, staring at him. He couldn’t be serious. But as he pointed his sword at her, she realized that he was. Rae tensed, slowly drawing the sword she had chosen from its sheath. She held it in both hands, the way Cathel taught her, and faced him. Berais shifted, adjusting his stance and keeping his eyes on her. Images flashed through her mind, memories of Selde weaving through her attacks like they were nothing.

This is the man who trained Selde…
she thought to herself.
The man who calls Selde an apprentice…

She felt her heart pound in her chest, her hands growing cold and clammy as she forced herself to keep her eyes on Berais. The Warrior gripped his sword in both hands, watching her.

“When you are ready, Arbiter.”

This couldn’t be that hard, she thought to herself. One strike. One simple strike. Cathel had drilled her on the simple strike so many times that she was almost sick of it. Sure, the weapon in her hands was heavier, but the principle was still the same. And it was only one strike. It wouldn’t matter.

It wouldn’t matter.

Berais stared at her, fixing her with eyes the color of steel.

Rae took a deep breath and charged forward, raising the sword above her head and bringing it down in a strike.

The clang of metal rang out through the room, immediately followed by a numbness that spread from her hands up her arms to her shoulders. She barely saw Berais move, barely saw him sweep the great sword to the side, knocking her own blade out of her hands with such power that she hadn’t even been able to resist. Her sword flew through the air, spinning end over end before burying itself in the far wall, and suddenly, she was standing in front of him weaponless, her own face reflected at her from the flat of his sword.

Rae stood frozen, her own hands still holding onto air as she stared at him, her mouth open in shock.

She could feel pinpricks of feeling returning to her hands now, and with them, a burning sensation. Her hands and shoulders shook.

Berais stared at her, before simply taking a step back and sheathing his sword.

“You may train with Selde and Cienn, and you and your companions may stay here until you are ready. When you are ready to try again, you will always be able to find me.”

He left her there, calmly walking out the door. Rae stared down at her hands, watching them shake, feeling her own heartbeat, feeling fear rise up into her chest. He had moved so quickly that she hadn’t seen him, had struck so fiercely that he had swept her sword from her hands.

He was the Warrior.

She would never be good enough to strike Berais. Not in a year, not in ten years.

He had just set her an impossible task.

Selde’s blade snapped through the air, brushing her own sword aside. Rae’s eyes widened, and she quickly stepped back as she had been taught, freeing her sword from his block and thrusting at his stomach. The tip of her sword wavered, and Selde stepped neatly out of the way, exhaling once as he swept his own sword underneath hers. He stepped towards her, slashing out.

Rae’s breath caught in her throat, Selde’s sword stopping just an inch from her neck.

She stared down at the point of it, taking deep breaths. Selde’s gray eyes met hers, narrowed in a look of concentration. He wasn’t even out of breath, and he had barely broken a sweat. Rae took in several deep breaths, stepping back and lowering her sword. He stepped back as well, slowly lowering his. The sword he held wasn’t sharp, but she had acquired enough bruises during their week of training to know that it could still hurt, even through the padding that she had been advised to wear.

“Again?” he asked, his eyes traveling up towards her expression.

Rae nodded once, taking a deep breath as she lifted her sword again. In the past week, her days had been filled with almost nothing but training, and recovering from training. After hearing the story of her deal with the Reaper, Selde seemed to have made it his personal mission to train her, and while he was patient, he wasn’t an easygoing instructor. He looked over her, the frown on his face telling her that he didn’t think she could take another round, but he nodded once, stepping back and raising his sword.

Her arms and legs felt like rubber, but she rushed at him anyway, raising the sword in a cut that had quickly become a repetitive motion. The feeling of time slipping away spurred her on. It had been two months and two weeks since she had first arrived in the Twilight Realm, and there wasn’t much time. She needed
Berais’s Decadal Spell, or she needed to leave without it, but she had to reach the Spire of the Sisters before the year was out. Desperation drove her forward as she swung her sword at Selde. The warrior blocked her attack with his own blade, swords clashing as he looked in her eyes. Selde stepped back, and Rae immediately launched into the offensive, striking out at his side. He raised his sword, catching her blade again. She pulled back, her eyes narrowing as she cut diagonally across him, her blade moving upward.

Her sword caught his, swatting it to the right and leaving her an opening. Rae took a deep breath and lunged, both hands on the hilt of her sword as she thrust it straight towards his gut.

Selde stepped to the side in a whirl of metal and cloth, the tip of Rae’s blade thrusting through empty air. Rae had a moment to contemplate the fact that her target had disappeared, a split second to realize the position she was in, before she felt Selde’s practice blade crashing against her padded back, the impact sending her sprawling onto the floor of the practice chamber. Rae sucked in a breath as she hit the ground, her right hand closing around the hilt of her practice sword as her left arm pushed herself up. A dull ache spread from her back where the blade had struck her, and she had a feeling that even with the padding, she would be treating herself to a lovely purple bruise when she next bathed.

Rae grit her teeth, pushing her head up. A pair of black boots appeared in her vision, and she trailed her eyes upward until she reached their owner’s face. Cienn stood over her, his blue eyes meeting hers as his own face twisted into a frown.

“Haven’t you given up yet?” he asked.

She scowled at him in response, pushing herself up on one shaky arm. Cienn had been nothing but polite, if a little teasing, until he heard what Berais’s conditions for her recognition were. Then he had laughed out loud, as if he had heard the best joke in the world. That act alone had immediately put her off to the
tarethan
. He treated Selde’s training sessions with her as a joke, and Rae was fed up with it.

“Cienn, leave her alone,” said Selde, sheathing his sword and turning towards the Ivali. “She’s improving.”

“Not fast enough. Not for the time frame she has to work with.” His mouth turned up in a smirk. “As amusing as your child’s play is, I think we both know how this will end. Or do you mean to make a master out of her in a week, little pup?”

Rae let out a shaky breath as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, taking her sword with her. Her body no longer seemed to want to comply with her, and she had a feeling that Selde would call a stop to their training soon. She had been running off of desperation, but desperation could only fuel her for so long. Unfortunately, Cienn’s words seemed to have silenced Selde, because when Rae turned towards him, she saw him looking off to the side, his fists clenched and his eyes fixed on the ground.

She knew that look.

It was the look she wore when she thought she was beaten.

She hated it, especially seeing it on him. The only thing he had done was actually try to help her.

“Cienn, I didn’t think you were bored enough to come watch child’s play,” she said, drawing herself to her feet. She held her sword loosely in her right hand, the point dangling close to the ground as she angled her chin defiantly at Cienn, as if challenging him.

Cienn’s smirk disappeared. “…Don’t flatter yourself, Arbiter,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I only came here to tell Selde to stop wasting his master’s time.” His eyes bore into hers, and the blue of them lightened somewhat, becoming almost ice-like. Rae forced herself to not look away.

“Are all Ivali bipolar?”

Cienn frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“One week ago, you were scolding Selde for attacking me. Now, you scold him for training me. Make up your mind. Do you want me alive or dead?”

Cienn shrugged one shoulder elegantly. “Whether the Arbiter survives the matter of her choosing or not is of no consequence to me,” he said. “And the honor of being recognized as Arbiter is not mine to bestow. But hear this, Arbiter or not, I will not tolerate any insult to my Lord.”

“How exactly am I insulting your Lord?” asked Rae. Selde stepped forward, grabbing hold of her elbow and keeping her from moving closer to Cienn.

“Arbiter, stop,” he said. “Let him be.”

Rae almost didn’t hear him. She tugged her arm out of Selde’s grip, but didn’t move any closer towards the
tarethan
, instead eyeing him from where she stood. “I’m only training. I’m doing what he
told me to do! If you ask me, it looks like you’re
the one insulting him by trying to stop me from training!”

Cienn’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Rae was suddenly struck with the knowledge that she had struck a nerve, even though she had no idea how she had done it. The thought was almost foreign to her. It had been a while since she had made someone angry without meaning to. Normally, she knew exactly what she had done wrong.

“…You would do well to watch your mouth,” he said, all traces of levity vanishing from his face. “You speak with ignorance, of things you do not understand.”

“You’re doing a fantastic
job of explaining them to me,” she snapped.

“Rae!”
said Selde insistently, dropping her title. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Rae shrugged out of his grasp, her eyes fixed on Cienn. 

The Ivali’s expression hadn’t changed. Perhaps that was the most terrifying part of the whole thing. He simply continued to watch her, calmly. After a while, he nodded once, placing one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Then let me explain.”

“Cienn…” began Selde, his tone a quiet warning.

“Be silent,” commanded Cienn. “Step aside.”

Selde clenched his fists, staring resolutely at Cienn from beside Rae.

“Step aside, Selde
,”
repeated Cienn in a tone that brooked no room for argument. Selde stared at him for a few seconds more, before slowly exhaling, moving from her side and coming to stand against the wall of the room. Cienn loosened his sword in his scabbard, frowning at Rae.

“Very well then, Arbiter,” he said. “Show me the result of your training.”

Rae took a deep breath, holding her sword in both hands as she watched Cienn. He was baiting her, she knew. He wanted to see her walk away, to see her give up. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She rushed forward, and instead of raising her sword and cutting like she had done before, she thrust, gripping the hilt in both hands and pushing it towards his chest.

Cienn moved.

Rae’s eyes widened, and she barely registered Cienn stepping to the side, easily sidestepping the blow as he ran past the length of her sword, heading towards her. She caught sight of his eyes as he reached up with his hand. It landed on her elbow, and before she fully realized what was happening, she had hit the ground again, and was staring at the ceiling. She saw Cienn draw his sword, saw the blade momentarily flash through the air, and suddenly it was at her throat.

Cienn stared at her from the other side of the blade, his blue eyes dangerously narrow. Rae simply stared, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. Her heart thudded in her chest.

She hadn’t even seen him move…

“Do you understand?” asked Cienn, his face twisting into a mask of anger. He stepped away from her, sliding his sword into his sheath. “This
is the skill of one who has struck Berais. This
is the skill of one who has proven himself worthy to bear his mark. This
is the product of two hundred and fifty years of constant battle, constant loss. If you cannot even strike me, you are a fool—and more than a fool, a disgrace—to think you can strike Berais.”

He turned away from her, walking out the door.

“You would do well to remove yourself from my Lord’s home, Arbiter. At your earliest possible convenience.”

The door slammed shut, the sound, and the echo that followed it, punctuating his statement. Rae stared up at the ceiling for a very long time before she finally dared to move.

She found Cathel seated in a secluded corner of the castle courtyard, his sword lying across his lap. He was bent over, his eyes narrowed in concentration as his right hand moved over his sword, tracking small designs into the edge of the blade. She took a deep breath as she approached him, wincing as the bruises from her encounter with Selde and with Cienn made themselves known.

“…Isn’t that dangerous?” she asked quietly, coming to stand behind him.

In response, he pressed his thumb firmly onto the blade. Cathel pulled it away and held his hand up in front of her, revealing it to be unharmed. Rae watched him, and he looked up at her, shaking his head.

“It’s not faesteel,” he said. “But my magic lets me make something like it.”

She looked down as his hand moved again, realizing that there were symbols carving themselves onto the blade. They were thin engravings, barely noticeable, and they ran from hilt to tip. The ones that Cathel moved over glowed with a bright light, replacing older ones that looked like they had faded away with time. She stepped closer to him to get a better look.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Rewriting the protection runes,” he replied, frowning in concentration as he teased out a particularly difficult looking symbol. “Some of them broke during my fight with Selde last week…”

Rae stared down at her hands, clasping them loosely together. She remembered the fight with Selde, remembered Cathel’s blade flashing through the air, cutting through armor and flesh alike, and severing Selde’s knife in two…

“Protection runes?” she repeated.

“Mm…” said Cathel. “To keep it from breaking.” His hands stilled, and he looked up at her. She could see him watching her out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t turn towards him fully. If she had to admit it to herself, she would say she was afraid. She didn’t want to see the look in his green eyes—for fear it would tell her what he saw in her then.

But whatever it was he saw, he sighed, setting his sword aside on the bench top beside him. “I’m not much of a rune writer,” he said. “But I put it through a lot of abuse. So I figured it would be best to learn the runes for durability and protection, so that I don’t have to keep breaking in a new sword every time I have to get serious.”

“Serious?” asked Rae, her eyes slowly meeting his. He nodded once, glancing back at the sword next to him.

“…You asked me why I carried a sword, before we left the Tower,” said Cathel.

Rae nodded once. She remembered that day.

“My magic might seem powerful, but it only works when I have something on hand that’s willing to work with me. I can strong arm things into doing what I want sometimes, but if they fight me too hard, I’d only end up hurting myself. And things don’t usually like to follow my orders when they belong to someone else. Sometimes, I don’t have time to negotiate, to find the heart of something or to establish a contract. Sometimes I’m in a hurry.”

“So you use your sword,” finished Rae.

Cathel nodded once. “It’s mine. It’s loyal to me, so it takes almost no energy for me to alter it. I can order it to cut. It’s a sword. That doesn’t go against its nature. But my making it sharper doesn’t increase its durability. If I’m not careful, I could easily break it.”

“…If you broke it…couldn’t you fix it?” asked Rae. She didn’t always understand how Cathel’s magic worked, and sometimes, it amazed her that he could. He smiled softly, shaking his head.