Sarah followed Master Blane out of the woods to a treeless ridge overlooking the valley. Aegis, her wolfhound, followed at her left hip. The dog she had raised from a pup for the last three years, her ever-loyal companion, copied her every step, stopping to sit at her side when Blane indicated they had reached their destination.
“Today is an important day for you, discipulus Michaels,” Blane said, his tone reverent. “Every discipulus dreams of the day they graduate and become a Ranger, though not all of them live to see that day. You should be proud.”
Inwardly, Sarah beamed. Master Blane rarely doled out praise. In fact, she was fairly certain this was the only time he had ever done so in her three years of training. Outwardly, she remained stoic; Master Blane definitely did not think highly of discipuli who smiled.
“You have just one more task, to prove your worth,” Blane intoned, standing before her. “Draw your blade.”
Sarah drew her short, curved sword and held it downward at a 45 degree angle. She supposed that Blane was going to have her work through some of her forms one last time as some sort of exam.
“Kill the dog.”
Sarah froze. She could hear blood roaring in her ears. “What?!” she managed to sputter a few seconds later.
“A Master Ranger gave you an order! You do not say ‘what?’ like some sniveling peasant, you say ‘yes, sir!” Blane roared, his eyes going white with anger. “Shall I carry out your order for you?” He moved toward Aegis.
“NO!” Sarah stepped between them, unconsciously lifting her blade into a forward guard, which so happened to point the tip directly at Master Blane.
Blane’s anger turned to shock. “Are you threatening me?!” Quicker than her eyes could follow, Blane’s curved blade flew from the scabbard on his hip, Salmon Breaks the Shallows, an upward arc. He knocked her blade not only aside but completely out of her hand, the tip of his blade narrowly missing her carotid artery, drawing a bloody line across her throat and up her jaw line. Sarah fell down on her knees in pain, her numb fingers pressing against her bloody neck.
At her cry of pain, Aegis leapt forward, his teeth sinking into Blane’s thigh. Blane roared in more anger than pain, bringing his sword back down in a chopping motion. Aegis yelped and fell bloodily to the ground beside Sarah.
Seeing her constant companion and only friend for the last three years lying dead in the dirt beside her, Sarah’s pain turned to blind rage. Before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet. Left foot forward, right foot stepping behind the left in the slippery kick that all small fighters favored. Every muscle in her five foot frame threw all 120 pounds of her straight forward, focused in her left heel. She connected, hard, directly in Blane’s solar plexus. Even a trained fighter like him crumpled at a blow like that, his sword falling to his side though still in his hand. She immediately spun around in a wheel kick, her right leg flying out behind her then up and over and down like a sledgehammer, directly into the taller man’s temple. He spun around and fell to one knee. Sarah pounced onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, her forearm hard against the big artery, choking the blood from his brain. Blane spasmed against her, started slapping at her arm frantically. She didn’t let go. With a final heave, she jerked her whole body backward and heard the snap of his neck.
She lay there panting for she didn’t know how long. Blane’s white uniform by this point was stained in a sort of grisly camouflage of grass stains and something else. She slowly extricated herself, finding that her limbs didn’t want to obey her brain’s commands. She finally managed to crawl out from under him. On her hands and knees, she went to cradle Aegis’s bloody body in her arms. He gave a low whimper and wagged his tail. He was alive!
Laboriously, Sarah picked herself up to a standing position, the big dog up in her arms. She stumbled into the woods. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she couldn’t go home.
“Today is an important day for you, discipulus Michaels,” Blane said, his tone reverent. “Every discipulus dreams of the day they graduate and become a Ranger, though not all of them live to see that day. You should be proud.”
Inwardly, Sarah beamed. Master Blane rarely doled out praise. In fact, she was fairly certain this was the only time he had ever done so in her three years of training. Outwardly, she remained stoic; Master Blane definitely did not think highly of discipuli who smiled.
“You have just one more task, to prove your worth,” Blane intoned, standing before her. “Draw your blade.”
Sarah drew her short, curved sword and held it downward at a 45 degree angle. She supposed that Blane was going to have her work through some of her forms one last time as some sort of exam.
“Kill the dog.”
Sarah froze. She could hear blood roaring in her ears. “What?!” she managed to sputter a few seconds later.
“A Master Ranger gave you an order! You do not say ‘what?’ like some sniveling peasant, you say ‘yes, sir!” Blane roared, his eyes going white with anger. “Shall I carry out your order for you?” He moved toward Aegis.
“NO!” Sarah stepped between them, unconsciously lifting her blade into a forward guard, which so happened to point the tip directly at Master Blane.
Blane’s anger turned to shock. “Are you threatening me?!” Quicker than her eyes could follow, Blane’s curved blade flew from the scabbard on his hip, Salmon Breaks the Shallows, an upward arc. He knocked her blade not only aside but completely out of her hand, the tip of his blade narrowly missing her carotid artery, drawing a bloody line across her throat and up her jaw line. Sarah fell down on her knees in pain, her numb fingers pressing against her bloody neck.
At her cry of pain, Aegis leapt forward, his teeth sinking into Blane’s thigh. Blane roared in more anger than pain, bringing his sword back down in a chopping motion. Aegis yelped and fell bloodily to the ground beside Sarah.
Seeing her constant companion and only friend for the last three years lying dead in the dirt beside her, Sarah’s pain turned to blind rage. Before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet. Left foot forward, right foot stepping behind the left in the slippery kick that all small fighters favored. Every muscle in her five foot frame threw all 120 pounds of her straight forward, focused in her left heel. She connected, hard, directly in Blane’s solar plexus. Even a trained fighter like him crumpled at a blow like that, his sword falling to his side though still in his hand. She immediately spun around in a wheel kick, her right leg flying out behind her then up and over and down like a sledgehammer, directly into the taller man’s temple. He spun around and fell to one knee. Sarah pounced onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, her forearm hard against the big artery, choking the blood from his brain. Blane spasmed against her, started slapping at her arm frantically. She didn’t let go. With a final heave, she jerked her whole body backward and heard the snap of his neck.
She lay there panting for she didn’t know how long. Blane’s white uniform by this point was stained in a sort of grisly camouflage of grass stains and something else. She slowly extricated herself, finding that her limbs didn’t want to obey her brain’s commands. She finally managed to crawl out from under him. On her hands and knees, she went to cradle Aegis’s bloody body in her arms. He gave a low whimper and wagged his tail. He was alive!
Laboriously, Sarah picked herself up to a standing position, the big dog up in her arms. She stumbled into the woods. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she couldn’t go home.
