The Swordmaster's Apprentice

Chapter Two

First Draft - Unedited

oOo

Richard stumbled to his feet, almost slipping on the pool of blood below him. He could feel the sticky substance clinging to him, soaking into his skin, blood that he could have prevented from being spilt. He had fallen during the flash of light, splashing it everywhere.

Reaching down and grabbing Alyss' outstretched hand he pulled her up carefully, minding the fact that she to was now covered in his parent's blood.

Her face contorted in horror, her once rich clothing decorated in fine colours now clung to her, highlighting the curves, in a disturbing red-clad way.

"Richard..." She placed her hand on his cheek, pulling it away after no reaction, leaving a bloody handprint in its wake. "I-I'm so sorry... This... Why..."

"Children..." The old man in the doorway held a staff, its long wooden pole decorated with intricate patterns. A yellow gemstone caged by spirals of silver, shining golden light through the air. "If we don't move now, I'm afraid to say you will become the cause my death alongside yours!" A sword was strapped to his side its handle still immaculate, but the blade, it's surface corroded with age-old rust. Broken. Splintered.

"Who-Who are you?" Richard's calm demeanour had slowly slipped away, watching the man fall. Slowly. Plunging the blade through his mother chest, the pool of blood that slowly spread on the bed, soaking through the material. It broke him, his face was blank, showing no emotion.

Richard grabbed his sword, sliding into its holster. His hands shaking. He couldn't tell if the shaking was due to anger or grief, both overwhelming him. In all honesty, he was surprised he could move at all, but as the old man beckoned for them to follow his feet dragged, slowly pulling Alyss- who was still crying, along with him.

The old man lived on a plateau about halfway up the mountainside, the path created by hand, meticulous steps carved into the stone. It was a long journey to the cave-home that the man had built over the years and it surprised them that with such a frail body he could make the journey to the town and back every day.

"So..." Richard paused awkwardly, he had listened intently to the old man's stories when he was a child, growing up believing in the great legends of the likes of 'Harvald Braveheart'. He had always felt a connection with that story, maybe it was because they shared the same last name, or maybe it was the way the man looked at him every time he told it. "You made us trek all the way up here and you still haven't told us why?"

"My boy, you're mind is still too young to process what I must pass on to you." He pulled the handle from its holster, the rusty, broken blade shattered on the stone floor. It had completely detached from its handle and now lay, in a remnant of what the blade had once stood for.

"Ah, well... the blade has chosen." He glanced at the handle shoving it towards Richard.

"Why me? Why would it choose me?

"Not you, you imbecile! The handle has chosen your blade and you as its wielder." The man shook his head, his lips trembling, hands shaking "Why now?" he turned to the sky, letting out a scream that no man should be able to create "of all the times to present me with a suitable successor, you-you give me this?"

The sword in Richards sheath began to glow, emitting a bright white blinding to most. A tornado of wind emerged from the light, knocking Richard and Alyss to their knees. Yet the old man remained stood, almost as though he had experienced this before.

"Surriah..."

"Harvald! Not now!"

The women held an aura of authority and looked similar to the descriptions of the women in the old man's- Harvald's stories. Then again the heroine of his stories was always called Harvald... Braveheart. An ancestor of Richard.

"Harvald... Braveheart?"

"Not now boy!" Harvald spun towards Richard, glaring at him. Pointing his spear in his direction and motioning for him to shut up.

"Harvald! That is no way to speak to your successor!" She was smiling as though she had won a pot of gold, her azure eyes gleamed with glee. "You've kept me locked up in that sword for far too long!"

"I couldn't risk a repeat of" He halted, almost as though the very memory of said incident brought pain to him "that..."

She nodded knowingly, she didn't seem mad, yet when he opened his mouth to talk she sent a glare that not even a king would challenge.

"Hang on..." Richard had risen from his kneeled position, finally having the pressure of the Surriahs magic relieved from his shoulders. "You call me his successor, yet you don't say of what or why... and what about me? What if I don't want to be this person who you've envisioned?" He was growing angrier by the moment, his eyes flaring and posture tensing. His hand fell to grip the sword on his side, only to remember that it had flown to Surriah's hand the moment she appeared.

"Hmm, good quality. Well-made. Strong. Good-Willed. They'll do!" Surriah had first inspected the sword, examining its fine craftsmanship, before her eyes drifted to Richard, following all the curves and features of his built body. Alyss visibly shuddered whilst glaring at the women when she allowed her hand to drag down Richard's chest.

"They'll?" Richard had calmed but felt uneasy with how 'handsy' Surriah was being, her eyes glistened like a playful puppy toying with their owner, flaunting certain assets. His face had turned a certain shade of red, unused to such a provocative form of flirting.

"Oh yes..." Surriah purred "You and the sword now share a bond, a bond that should it be broken you would feel like... like your very insides were being ripped from you by a pair of shears!" She turned back to Harvald who had remained very quiet through the whole ordeal.

"Do me a favour... Harvey. Get the book and the staff."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Harvald his teeth together, spitting the words out. Anger seethed through him, he turned towards his cave, walking with a light wimp before letting out an agonizing scream, Alyss moved instantly rushing to help him. His body fell limply to the ground, shaking and trembling, letting out a slight whimper every time another vicious wave overcame him.

After a minute of standing in shock, Richard joined Alyss' side, both attempting to resuscitate the dying man. Pounding down hard on his chest, breaking rib after rib in an attempt to restart his heart.

"Stop! You will only make his transference worse." Surriah had moved behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, pulling them back she waved her hand. A golden blanket of magic surrounded Harvald in a bubble of protective resin, she moved them away not wanting them to see what comes next.

Seconds after Surriah had ushered the two 'young' adults into the cave Harvald let out an agonising scream, from outside the bubble his body could be seen ripping itself apart, blood covered the inside of the once golden magic. After a couple of minutes of ear-piercing screams, Harvald became quiet, it was then that Surriah allowed the two to go to his side.

"Harvald?" Richard could not see the old man, blood covered the barrier and blocked his view.

"Calm down boy, give it a minute!"

"Shut it, Surriah."

Surriah's eyes formed slits, and her faced dropped. Her once kind features froze, and her azure eyes morphed into stone cold obsidian. "Watch your tone with me... girl" She grasped her hand outwards and her long golden staff shot to it, slamming into her palm with enough force to send Alyss sprawling. "I am Surriah, the Last Queen of the Celestials! You will bow before me!"

"So if you were the last Queen... You were the monarch who destroyed your own race?"

"You impudent little bit-"

"Enough!" Richard screamed. He had risen from his crouched position very swiftly to get between the Queen and his... friend, without his weapon- which was still strapped against Surriah's back, he was unable to pose a threat to her.

"Richard... Out of my way now! Or I swear to the firstborns I will-"

"Will you lot stop shouting?" A gruff unrecognisable voice rang across the plateau, a middle-aged man covered in sticky, red plasma now stood where Harvald's body had once lain, "Please?"

"Who are you again?" Richard hand unconsciously slipped for his sword, which he found to be once again absent.

"You imbecile... It's me, Harvald!"