PART II - BIG INSPIRATION
“Is everything okay?” Callie asked as Pixyl returned to the rest of the group. “What did the Warlock trainer want with you?”
Pixyl shook her head. “Nothing important.”
It was a big deal, the truth was. A part of Pixyl was dreading that she had agreed to be this ‘demonstrator’. Not only would it further make her the center of attention, but it would probably require her to talk, at minimum to Callie, about her past and where she learned so much about fighting Demons. It really wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have, but she knew there was no way she could say no to Callie’s big eyes if she was insistent.
A week previous, once she had been informed that she was being sent for advanced training, Pixyl had promised herself she would absolutely learn everything she could. Not just to be more effective when the time to fight in the war came, but also to frankly prove her mother wrong; prove that being a Bladeweaver wasn’t a mistake; that she wasn’t a mistake. Even thinking about her mother’s lifelong words made Pixyl’s belly want to retch, so it was imperative she overcome, it was imperative that she excel, just like she’d always done, no matter how difficult the obstacle. Learning Banish Demon would be an excellent additional power. And when this was all over, if she went back to the Pits at Gold Tier, maybe even higher, she was going to absolutely destroy anything and everything that was sent against her, maybe starting with the Pit Boss.
Pixyl was snapped out of her introspection by someone clearing their throat. She turned to see a nervous Lizardkin along with two others standing a couple meters away looking at her. The Lizardkin looked much like Xin, except her scales displayed random flashes of vibrant reds and blues in the sun, in addition to the traditional greens. To her left was another Beastkin, this one a female Tiger variant. However, the Tigerkin’s odd coloring was centered on dark-green fur, with stripes of muted oranges. The third was also a Beastkin, but one rare to the area. His bestial background appeared to be that of a squirrel. He was covered in gray fur and his ears sported little tufts of white in them. A fluffy gray tail poked out from his pants.
“Hello?” Pixyl said, a confused look on her face.
“Hi!,” the new Lizardkin said. “I’m Nola. We saw you standing over here and wanted to come and introduce ourselves. We’re also Bladeweaver recruits. We missed you yesterday when we met Trainer Olin, but he told us what happened and why you weren’t there. How is your wing feeling?”
“Sore,” Pixyl said, looking down and grinding the toe of her boot into the dirt. “B-B-But it feels better than yesterday.”
“Oh! This is Dermic,” Nola said, gesturing to the Squirrelkin recruit. She turned to the green Tigerkin, “And this is Rakona.”
“P-P-Pixyl.”
Nola looked expectant, waiting for an introduction to the rest of Pixyl’s housemates. Pixyl faltered, and Lena stepped in. “Hello. I’m Lena, and this is Vanis, Xin and Callie.” Nola bowed her head slightly each in turn, before reaching out to touch Xin’s left shoulder with her right hand. Xin returned the gesture, touching Nola’s left shoulder with her own right.
“Pixyl, Dermic and I saw your fight with the Demon earlier,” Rakona said. “I’ve only been a Bladeweaver for a short time, and had never seen one fight. You were amazing!”
“I must agree,” Dermic said, his voice much deeper than it seemed it should be. “All of us are very new to our class, so seeing your fight was really quite inspiring to us. I really didn’t appreciate that we could make those swords of light! I had heard of it, but had never seen it in person.”
Pixyl blinked, suddenly understanding what Trainer Terrin meant about her and Vanis setting an example to the rest of the recruits. Was that really a level of responsibility she wanted; or could even handle? She would have to. After all, she had agreed to Terrin’s request to do exactly that. What had she gotten herself into?
“All three of you are new? How long? How old are you?” Vanis asked.
“I just turned fifteen,” Nola said, straightening her back with pride. “But I’ve had my class for almost ten weeks now.”
Everyone from Ogre House looked at each other, suddenly feeling ancient.
“Four months for me,” Dermic said. “I was seventeen when it finally revealed, so I was very late. I did learn one skill before I came here, though, Ethereal Armor. But now I have so many to choose from.”
“You’re lucky, you got one before arriving, Dermic,” Rakona said with a sigh. “At least you know how to cast a spell. As for me, I’m sixteen, and have had my class for just over three months. I didn’t learn anything before arriving, though, so I’m really nervous about how to cast something, especially with all these skills in my head now.”
Callie glanced at Pixyl before hesitantly saying, “I’m sure the instructors will give everyone good directions to help us all figure out what our new skills do.”
“It’s n-n-not hard,” Pixyl told the young trio. “You’ll learn quickly. J-J-Just be careful with your blades. They will c-c-cut through everything.”
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“I was there this morning at breakfast,” Nola said. “Your swords cut right through the stone floor! That was so awful watching you get all those new reveals at once. I felt really helpless because there wasn’t anything I could do to help. It’s a good thing we get suppression bands. Otherwise, I’m sure we’d cut our own limbs off!” The other two young Bladeweavers nodded vigorously in agreement.
“All of our powers are dangerous,” Vanis said, slipping naturally into an instructive mode, given how young the other Bladeweavers were. “It is paramount that each of you listen to your trainer, and don’t try to experiment. You saw what happened when a recruit tried something foolish. It nearly killed him.”
“And you,” Rakona said, gesturing to Pixyl. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Pixyl shrugged. “Here and there.”
Lena looked skeptically from Pixyl to Vanis. ‘Here and there’. There was no way that was from ‘here and there’. Vanis subtly shook his head; now wasn’t the time.
Before the conversation could continue, there was a sound of a smaller bell being run three times from the stage area, and the general murmurs of the crowd began to settle to shift their attention forward. The bell was rung again three times.
Centered on the stage stood Commandant Xera, Master Trainer Thorn, and Legate Galin with Major Celeste and Sergeant-Major Natala behind and to the Legate’s right. Behind all of them, stood Tazrok, towering over all with a grim expression on his face. Various additional staff personnel were milling around behind them, including Trainer Terrin. Off to one side stood the five guilty, shifting uncomfortably in a small cluster. The bell was rung another three times, followed a short time by another trio.
As the day before, an Elf approached the Legate and drew a series of symbols in the air before pushing them into the Legate. He stepped forward, his words now quite loud.
“Yesterday, all of you received very clear instructions,” Galin began, his amplified voice loud and strong and tinged with anger. “For your own safety and for the safety of your fellow recruits, a minimal standard was set. It was a simple standard. Do not run, do not fight and follow the orders you are given. Those that failed to do so would be punished. Publicly.”
The crowd was silent and expectant as the Legate spoke. “Yesterday, there were instances of ten recruits fighting. Two have already been disciplined. Four were ejected from the camp and will be sent to the lines. Four chose to remain and accept their punishment.” He nodded vaguely to the group of five to the side. “One additional person irresponsibly refused to follow orders, which almost got himself and several others injured or killed. If not for the actions of two recruits, that most-certainly would have been the case. He, too, will be punished.”
The Legate turned, stepping aside. “Corporal Tazrok, you may proceed.”
Tazrok nodded curtly and stepped forward. As the Elf stepped forward to apply the sound spell, Tazrok waved her off as unneeded. He took center stage.
“I am Corporal Tazrok Thunderfist,” the Ogre said. His deep voice needed no amplification as it washed out over the assembly, clear and loud. No attention swayed as eyes and focus fixated on the gigantic Druid. “Is time,” he continued, “to grow up. You children no more!” Tazrok’s speech was slow, clear and measured.
Tazrok looked to his left to Trainer Terrin and gave a nod. Terrin raised his staff in one hand, and made a series of motions in the air. With the height of the stage, those on the ground couldn’t see what was happening on the floor, but there was a glow of green that rose up. A moment later, a swirl of purple energy began to coalesce. It twisted and whirled like a cloud of chaos before it finally solidified into the form of a … something born from nightmares.
The four-legged monster took two steps forward to the edge of the stage and roared, a blast of dread emanating out of it. It was a dark gray in color, with tinges of white and red streaks across its face and body. Standing next to Tazrok, it did not look big, its head only coming up to his mid-thigh. But that was chest-height for most everyone else, and for the smaller races, easily as big as they were, if not larger. Spittle dripped from its fangs and hunger from its eyes.
“Nether Hound, I believe,” Vanis said quietly.
Pixyl shrugged with dismissal, whispering back, “Only Bronze Tier.”
Tazrok pointed down to the creature at his side. “This is face of enemy. Enemy wants to kill you. Kill family. Kill children. It not stop until each of you dead. This is why fight.” Tazrok’s speech continued to be low and loud.
But the audience wasn’t looking at Tazrok. Nearly all were fixated on the Nether Hound towering above them on the edge of the stage. Its muscles rippled, and its glowing red eyes seemed to pierce their way into your soul. It was raw Hell on four legs, and demanded both fear and respect. It roared again.
“You now soldiers,” Tazok continued after the monster’s echo of horror had faded. “You not children.”
The Ogre’s face seemed to fluster and falter for a moment, before he mumbled something to himself. His expression changed as he stood up straighter, his demeanor growing more confident, his speech more fluid, his emotions more sincere. Gone was the stilted speech, replaced by something … different. “It is now time to leave behind the innocence of childhood and embrace the responsibilities of being an adult, for we are now soldiers of the Free Folk! You have been chosen to be here to learn from the best, and we must do our part with bravery, determination, and unwavering commitment to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
Something in the air had changed, and no longer were the gazes of the recruits fixed on the Demon before them. Instead, all eyes had swiveled to the Tazrok. His gaze was firm as he returned the stares of his audience. “This is not a burden, but an honor. You are here because you have inside that bravery, that determination, and that unwavering commitment to save our people. And now, it is time to rise to our fates and prepare to face the hordes that threaten us all.”
“What’s happening,” Callie whispered, looking up at Vanis and Lena with concern. “What’s wrong with Tazrok? He’s talking … normal.”
“Shh,” Vanis whispered back, not taking his eyes off the Ogre.
“When faced with the unknown, it is easy to cower in fear. But you will not do that. You will embrace your duties as defenders of the realm, and train harder than all that came before you. For in this fight, it is not about how big you are, or what race you are, or what class you are, but how ready you are. And I, Tazrok Thunderfist, have no doubt that each and every one of you will be ready to overcome anything that stands in your way.”
Even the officers on the stage were now riveted by Tazrok's speech, most with rather confused expressions on their faces. To the side, the five facing punishment shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty and alone. Slyly, Scryer Earick, who had been among the group of various staff on stage, pulled out a gem and peered through it, his eyes opening wide.
“We are children no longer. We are now the advanced soldiers of the Free Folk; the best soldiers of the Free Folk. Our deeds will be a testament to what we learn here and our bravery and commitment will inspire the world. We are the guardians of freedom, the protectors of life, the shining stars of hope in a world filled with darkness, and we shall become the songs of legend. You and I, together, will vanquish that which threatens our world. This,I have decided!”
Tazrok nodded once and took a step back. His words were final, and a silence hung in the air.