Heir Apparent - a Summoner FanFic

Elves and Dwarves

After the departure of Sir Caulder following the trial of Fletcher Releigh, Vocans was in need of a new Weapons Master. It seemed Scipio had yet to choose a replacement and was using sessions in the Arena as interviews. Each time Dorien entered the Arena for arms lessons he found a new candidate. Today's Weapons Master candidate was one Mistress Iliya Vultane, the third daughter of one noble house or another. Of course, as the third child, she was no summoner, and so had made a name for herself as an expert swordswoman.

Despite the fact that arms lessons were optional, all of the first years attended every session, with the exception of Barrik, and so Dorien had the opportunity to observe each cadet's fighting style. As with most things, Celia was shy on the offensive but had an almost impenetrable defence. Moira was precise, Lytar quick and Micca strong, having built up some muscle working in the stables. Poppy and Tilly, neither of whom had even lifted a sword before coming to Vocans were learning quickly. Nadia fought with a staff rather than a blade. Her defence was reliant on her ability to keep the staff in constant motion, using the momentum of her opponent's strikes to deflect them and keep the staff spinning. She wouldn't be able to stab or cut but the force of the staff's movement would break bones without effort on Nadia's part.

It was during this particular session under the watch of Iliya Vultane that the elves and the dwarf returned to Vocans.

Azdok Odul arrived first, preceded by his Minotaur. Both summoner and demon carried double headed war axes. Odul wore heavy plate armour and iron bands in his braided, fire red hair and beard. He carried himself confidently and with an expression that challenged anyone to suggest he should feel otherwise. It was good to see, it meant he felt he belonged at Vocans. Mistress Vultane took the interruption in her stride and lectured those not sparring on the skill required to teach a Minotaur to use a weapon. Azdok practically beamed at the inherent compliment.

Less than ten minutes later, the elves entered. Neither showed off their demons as Azdok had but entered no less dramatically. They swept into the room, Traeliorn Elatris leading Almithara Daeven by the hand, heads held high. Traeliorn had the fair hair and long ears of a high elf, his eyes piercing and ice blue. He carried a thin, slightly curved blade on his right hip, a knife on his left. Almithara also had the features of a high elf, and was similarly armed. However, she stood out from Traeliorn because of her eyes: they were completely white. Daeven was blind.

Something passed between the she-elf and Lytar. She turned her head to face him, as if she could see him, and her fair features twisted into an expression of extreme disgust. Traeliorn caught the change and turned to follow her gaze. His own expression did not change, but something about his eyes made Dorien shiver from the row above Lytar. Lytar blanched and the elves turned away, seating themselves on the lowest of the tiers that doubled as steps to the Arena floor.

As the session continued Dorien found himself sparring against the male elf. Traeliorn pulled his sword free from his scabbard and dropped into a fighting stance. Dorien drew his own sword, a simple single handed piece with a brown leather wrap on the handle and a thick cross guard to protect his hand. He saluted. He had been training with the sword for even longer than he had with demons. He wasn't being arrogant when thinking that he would have beaten any over human in the room, including Mistress Vultane.

However, he'd never fought an elf before. As Traeliorn returned his salute he thought about what he knew about elves. They tended to be faster, stronger and more precise than humans, but also more prone to overconfidence. Dorien would exploit this weakness.

Traeliorn' gaze didn't even flicker as he lunged. Dorien had less than a heartbeat to respond, swiping the elf's sword aside clumsily and taking a full three steps back to gain room enough to move. Traeliorn' sword was already there and Dorien was forced to duck beneath the blow or lose his head. He caught the third blow, just, on his sword and vambrace. The blow nearly dislocated both his shoulders it was so forceful. Still, the elf barely seemed to be exerting himself.

Dorien's stomach tightened. He had never felt so outmatched in anything before. Ever. He knew he had no hope of even forcing the elf back a step, let alone defeating him.

Traeliorn's blade crashed against Dorien's defences twice more before a final blow was delivered with enough force to knock his sword from his grip. An elbow lashed out and struck the prince's chin. Dorien rolled with the blow, avoiding a broken jaw, and turned the movement into a spin, dropping into a one legged crouch. He lashed out with the other as he spun, taking Elaris' legs out from under him. Instead of falling, the elf turned the momentum into a one handed cartwheel.

Dorien finished his spin and came to a stand only to find himself nose to nose with Traeliorn, a sword at his throats and a knife against his abdomen. The elf's eyes bored into Dorien's, pitiless and cold.

"So Alfric's pet fails to live up to his reputation." Traeliorn murmured, seemingly to himself, quiet enough that only Dorien could hear. "Pathetic." The elf stepped away, turned and strode back to his seat, blades already sheathed.

Dorien retrieved his own sword, sheathed it and returned to his spot next to Nadia, rolling the pain from his shoulders.

"Are you ok?" She asked as he sat, concern etched on her face. He grunted in response, his jaw already aching with the developing bruise. He turned his attention back to the Arena floor, the next contest already beginning. He was all too aware of the eyes on him, including the thoughtful expression on the face of blind Almithara as her male counterpart whispered to her. She finally turned away as Traeliorn hissed at her, his eyes colder than ever.

"Pointy ears and his mate don't seem to like you much, lad." Came a gruff voice from his other side. Dorien turned to see Odul sat a little apart from the group, his Minotaur now infused. "What did you do?"

"Haven't the foggiest."Dorien replied.

"I'd watch them if I were you." Azdok advised. "Elves can hold a grudge longer than it takes for the mountains to crumble into the sea." Dorien smiled at the dwarf, enjoying his accent and flippant tone despite his foreboding.

He looked back at Traeliorn and Almithara. The young she-elf continued to listen carefully to her partner's hissing and muttering. It was clear they were talking about him.

Dorien doubted he'd be making friends with the elves in this lifetime.

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