Wren stood strong, gripping her silver sword in her rough hands. She was breathing hard, and felt her heartbeat. Bu bum! Her heart rang into her ears.
"Huh?" Wren looked around, thinking it was the footsteps of a Troblin. The footsteps increased and soon they were all around her. Glowing yellow eyes pierced her soul. They yelled and started charging at her. Soon, she couldn't see anything.
"Ah!" Wren woke up in her white bedsheets, startled by her nightmare.
"Let's hope my first experience with Troblins doesn't end up like that........" she muttered. It was 2:00 in the morning, and she was super tired. The 15 teams at the side of the castle slept in the same room. She was glad she wasn't alone with her team anymore. Wren shuddered at the thought of them.
——-+——
In the morning, they took their battle positions and Chef Quentin brought a quick breakfast. Wren wasn't expecting much, but she never let her guard down. Aasimar headed out to their 15 teams and surprisingly went over to Wren.
"Wren, can you get a sword from the basement? I need you to do it because I don't have time." He asked. She agreed without even asking why she in particular had to go. Wren had actually never been to the basement, so this was a real treat. Plus, alone time! She ran down the castle's many marble stairs until she got to the dusty old basement. Perhaps Aasimar should have added what kind of sword.....there were a lot of them. How would she figure this out?
"Think, Wren, think. Well, if he didn't specify what kind of sword, and he said "a" instead of "the", maybe I can just get any sword." Wren thought.
"Hmm. This sword'll do." She took a sword with an engraving on it that said "Benedictus per sapientiam Ajowan et magicam Safron et Turmeric." In small writing. Wren had no idea what that meant, but she took the sword and practiced a bit with it. She was surprised, as fighting was way easier with it.
"I'll just give Aasimar my sword and keep this one.....he'll never know." Wren decided. Now that she had done what her master had asked of her, she decided to head back to the battlefield.
——+——-
Wren gasped. She was frozen in place. There were no sign of any Troblins, but the knights of her team lay dead in a pool of their own blood. Tears flew down her face like a broken faucet and she couldn't do anything. However, she heard someone breathing. She ran through the blood to Aasimar who was badly injured.
"T-take your sword and go to the hills of the Jule. You will find what you need to find. Make things right. You are the Queen of Uruk now." And with that, he took his dying breath. Wren kneeled down and cried. How could this have happened? If only she had been back in time......
Wren set of for the lost hills of the Jule the next day, as soon as possible. She remembered what Merle had told her, "Troblins live near the lost hills of the Jule" she gulped. If all the knights had died fighting them, how could she beat them? Ben was right, she had no knight skills at all. She took a horse from the stables, Aldywn, to lead her in her journey.
YOU ARE READING
Dystopia
Fantasy15 year old Wren is a knight's apprentice. When the war starts between the humans and the Troblins, her master decides it's time for her to become a knight. One day, he sends her down to the basement to get a powerful sword, and they get attacked. A...
