Chapter 1 - The Lordsbane Chronicles

Part 1: Second Thoughts

The flaming red orb of the sun rose into the clear blue sky with the first dawn of the dry season. Rays of unabated sunlight slithered over the parched land like snakes. Sporadically, the red sandy terrain would dip down into a black chasm, like the mark of a giant fang. It was in a nook of one of these great crevasses that the puffing chimneys of Fledrock Village clogged the blue sky with wispy gray smoke. The fires were small, substantial only to cook a small meal, and nothing more. Heat was the last thing anyone wanted in Fledrock Village.
It was in Fledrock, on the west side, that a quaint little shack perched itself precariously on a rocky outcropping. Inside this dilapidated cabin Terenas Lordsbane was just awaking. Groggily, he rolled over on his side and exhaled deeply. He flexed is corded tan arms, loosening them from the sprawled position in which they had been forced for most of the night. Beside the sheepskin mat on which he lay, dual scimitars lay idle in their black sheaths. He took the one nearest him, drawing it with the faint hum of the blade’s metal upon the leather. As the blade rose from the sheath, red sunlight played upon the gleaming metal, casting an ominous glow into Terenas’ emerald green eyes. Suddenly, he ripped the blade completely out, and threw his weight forward coming to rest on the balls of his feet.
He wheeled around his cabin slowly, feeling the humid air clutch his face as he turned in a slow circle, his arms out in front of him as if preparing for battle. He felt the blade singing to him as it sliced through the clammy air with a resonant swish. Resolved about the prospects of his future, Terenas sheathed his scimitar. Gently, he then gathered both of his wickedly sharp weapons, clasping them to the belt that wrapped about the cut off shorts he wore.
Leaving his cabin he hastily pumped full a bucket of water from the well at the center of town. He dunked his face into the precious liquid, and pulled it out as droplets of water ran down his chin and cheeks.
“Today is your day, Terenas. And, if I may say so, it is a fine day for a Proving!” Terenas licked the water from his lips as he turned to face the man behind him. His father, Odin, had just peeled back the sheepskin flap of an elder’s tent and was striding out purposefully.
“Good morning father.” Terenas smiled meekly.
“O my boy, you will be fine! You have already made your mother and me more proud than we can say. All I wish is that you don’t do anything foolish. We will have you back tonight, in one piece!” Odin stuck out a thick hand, which Terenas promptly grasped. Terenas smiled at his bearded father, grateful for the support.
“You had best be leaving before the hours of heat, Gamlo will see you out.” Odin’s wrinkled face seemed to grow evermore gaunt as he bid his son farewell. Though he spoke to Terenas as if he were but bidding him to retrieve a stack of lumber from the forest, Terenas could tell by those deep creases in his face that Odin worried. Terenas did not know why his father worried so, the other boys of the village had all passed their Proving, and he knew he was faster and more agile with the blade than them all. Yet, Terenas remembered something his father had told him when he was but a young boy, “Dustmaw is perilous for even the most capable, and hath proven fatal many a time for those who show it no respect.”
With second thoughts, Terenas let go of his father’s firm grasp, and returned to his cabin. He gathered an arched composite bow and a quiver of arrows, strapping them onto his back with thin hide buckles. Should I be nervous, or worried? Terenas hesitated for a moment as he latched his canteen to the side of his pack. This was the day he had dreamt about ever since he was a young kid, but now that it was here, he dreamed of being a naïve child once more. Before he could let fear grab more firm a hold, Terenas yanked shut the buckle on his pack, and slung it over his two broad shoulders.
A hawk circled above Terenas in wide ellipses as he stepped from the shade of his cabin. He had a loose shirt on, cut off at the shoulders, and shorts. On his back his bow reached above his head, and the white fletching of his arrows peaked over his left shoulder. On each hip, black sheaths reached down to his knees, and a gap of skin separated the blades from the tops of his boots. He rechecked that his bow was taught, not frayed, and filed his nail on the undeniably keen edge of his left scimitar. He breathed deeply and let his shoulders sag as he passed through Fledrock.
The town itself was small and relatively compact. Fifteen large tents were closest to the center of town, each home to two sets of elders and their youngest children. On either side of the tents were smaller shacks, such as Terenas’, for the village teenagers and young adults. A rope fence ensured no one stumbled unknowingly into the black chasm that encircled the town on three sides. The chasm itself was over thirty-five yards in breadth, impassable. On the open face of Fledrock two towers loomed on either side of the gate that barred entrance to the town. The towers were manned throughout day and night, each equipped with a large bell to alert the village if any aborigine guerillas, the norgath, or fouler beasts got too close.
Terenas found himself standing now at the exit of Fledrock gate. Gamlo was sitting guard in a small shack just inside the wall, and waved to Terenas as he approached. Gamlo was nine years his elder, twenty-four, with cherubic cheeks and a mess of blond hair.
“Hiya Terenas, today’s the day, huh?”
“Sure is.” Terenas replied, looking at his feet.
“Nothing to get riled up over, you’ll be back in no time, who knows, maybe you can even get done faster than I did!” Gamlo smiled again. Gamlo, on his fifteenth birthday had set out into Dustmaw, and no more than an hour later returned with the head of a norgath strapped to his back. Terenas hoped he could do the same.
“You are looking to set out now then?”
“Sure am.” Terenas nodded.
“Alright then. Good luck to you mi'boy. Oh, did you notice if Misses Hemlock is up yet? I think I might have to run down there and grab some of them eggs of hers. I’m starving!" Gamlo replied as he unlocked the gate.
“Last I saw,” Terenas responded, “it was just Odin and I awake, its still pretty early, six strokes or so I’d estimate.”
“Ahh, time creeps by so slow when I’m up here alone,” Gamlo looked longingly back towards town, “O well, in that case, I’ll be seeing you tonight, or sooner! Best of luck to you me chap.” Gamlo patted Terenas on the back as he stepped beyond the threshold of Fledrock village. As the gate swung shut behind him, and Terenas heard Gamlo replace the wooden board barring entrance, he realized that this was the only time he had ever been outside Fledrock alone. He shivered, though it was far from cold outside.