“No, no, that is completely wrong!” My fall did not hurt as much as my pride. Then again, the training was not intended for building egos and fanciful dreams of slaying dragons and demons. Quite the opposite, as it was. The Arms Master and I were just off the ocean side and close to the rocky coastal road that eventually veered inland. So far the fighting lesson had not gone well. None of them had. I had never won an even fight with anyone, let alone my swords master. Dirt lined my nostrils and left the back of my tongue gritty. The salty dust burned my eyes and caused them to water. Sweat slicked the pommel and trickled down the worn blade like the blood of a wraith. I blinked to clear them and stay on my guard. My muscles bunched and convulsed under my skin like a dying animal.

My swords master, a short, grizzled man, waited with an almost visible annoyance, for me to roll to my bruised knees and face him in the proper fighting stance. A breeze blessedly blew by cooling the sweat-ridden skin of our bodies. He turned his face into the wind, the gray hairs sticking together in a way that almost made it look the dark-brown color it once had been. Just by his turning away from me showed he believed that I could not harm him. With my luck this would be the last time he would consider me a student of his. I drew up into a stance that would work best for penetrating an enemy’s defense.

“I’m afraid that your time has run out, girl.” His voice was deep and ominous. “If you can’t get this last lesson right then you are done. I will not teach a fruitless case of ineptitude.” Oh so predictable. He drew up his sword as I scrambled to my feet. The tip of the blade slid across the ground with a wrenching sound that inevitably drew a frown to my face and chills up my back. I looked into his gray eyes. A muscle in his cheek twitched and caught my eye. He glowered even more so at me and I quickly snapped my eyes back to his. “Don’t think this time, just attack. If you are as true as you claim you want to be, then you will defeat me.”

I did as he asked and made my first movement a thrust for his, then exposed, torso. The violent clash of his sword against my own nearly knocked me into a senseless heap. It took all of the sense that was left to keep parrying and moving away at the same time. In less time than I could draw ten breaths, I was on my back with his weapon inches from my throat. He pulled it away and I reached for the calloused hand that my teacher held out for me ignoring the complaints from my exhausted muscles at the movement. I avoided his searing eyes and looked at the hand being held out to me instead. It was fairly tanned and had many scars from his days as a mercenary. The days that had turned him into my town’s hero and swords master. But that didn’t really help my situation. I could feel the tension in the air and felt that he would rather be reaching for my lily white throat than he would my hand.

His eyes snapped to me and his voice chilled as he said, “If you don’t have a fleck of magic in you, child, and you can’t fight off a fly, then tell me your purpose on this forsaken world!” I wasn’t sure his temper could get any worse. But, with effort, he pulled me up.

“Master, but I truly am trying.” I attempted to discreetly dust off the dirt that clung to my overcoat and made no move what so ever to wipe at the sweat the dribbled down my face in muddy tracks, less it provoke his anger even more. “I am sure that I can perform the lesson properly if you will permit me to try but only once more.”

His glare froze my blood, but he huffed and turned to his horse that had been tied to a jagged rock next to my own. “Girl, training you does nothing for anybody. Your eighteenth year has come and gone and you can’t do anything at all save with a bow and arrow, which does nothing for the water temple! Go fight for Air If you only wish to use a weapon of Air.” His hands waved wildly about in sync with his words. “Your skills with the blade are enough to keep you alive shortly, but little else, and the Goddesses have bestowed upon you no power. I will not train you any longer, Fara.” His words shamed me. The soft thuds of hooves on the compacted dirt permeated the uncomfortable silence. I bowed as he mounted and turned to leave. The thick legs of his war horse entered my line of sight, but did not move on. “If you wish, you may meet at the tavern after the seventh bell this evening. To discuss alternatives to fighting.” With a kick to the animal’s flanks, he was gone. I raised my head to see the small wisps of dust being left in his wake.

The people of my town had rejoiced when news of the lifting of the ban against commoners partaking in battle training had finally been received by Glotemzeer. The original ordinance had been put into effect when a group of battle trained men from a town in the region of Forest had attacked a Priestess and her entourage. My parents had listed for me to participate in the training and had hoped that one day I would be able to fight for my element proudly. When the demons began appearing all throughout Laterria, we, Laterrians, took it upon ourselves to find what had brought them from their hellish imprisonment. And soon we learned. An evil that had never before haunted a child’s tale, and who only lived in the heart of the scholars of Laterria who studied the many prophesies. He was but a hinted wisp of a great evil. Soon, the evil we called the One was real enough, and as the elemental Temples fell one by one, our people became only more determined to banish the demon from the realm forever. Since we were one of two races with magic in our veins and the only race with any knowledge of true sorcery, no others would be able to help without making the war a slaughter.

I looked down the road to where I could see Benehi’s bay horse galloping away. The dark figure was confidently astride it. I scowled. “‘I will not train you any longer Fara.’” I repeated his words mockingly. My right hand reached out and clenched on a small rock. “No one should call me that in any case.” I laughed cynically, fingers running over the stone’s course outline. “No one can when they don’t speak to me.” I violently threw the stone into the crashing waves beneath me at the thought of the villager’s silence.

The “other options” he spoke of were as a healer or a weapons trader. He knew that I had minuscule abilities with herbs. But without magic, there was no purpose behind being a healer, who relied primarily on the ability to heal with magic and used herbs only when absolutely exhausted of magic. As for being a trader, well I had no wish to become my father.

Instead of leaving to meet Benehi, I sat at the cliff’s edge reflecting my lesson.

This world is crumbling beneath our feet and yet there is still peace amid the turmoil. I sighed. The dark of the water mingled with the fireball sunset’s mirror like reflection. I rested my forehead into my hands, they were both sore and sweaty still. Even the bones beneath the flesh seemed to throb. When I pulled my hands away the sweat from my forehead dripped off from my wrist in a revolting watery brown dribble. A horse’s shrill complaint turned my head. My black stallion tossed his head again as far as the anchored reins would allow. His ears flicked backward in annoyance. I laughed at the irritated gleam in his eyes. “So Kenntalo, you have no wish to stay I gather?” His black coat made him a shadow that no light could surpass. Highlights in his raven mane flashed as he shook himself, causing the length of it to fly every which way.

Finding no comfort in my view, I picked up the padded riding gloves I had left in a rocky nook. I picked the leather reins off of the rocks and mounted the ebony horse. In the distance, I could just hear the town bell signaling the sixth hour. I turned my mount away from the Western Ocean and followed a trail along the. The water crashed against the jagged rocks as it has done since the Goddess of Water gave it motion. Watching it, a smile was drawn to my lips. I had always been at peace with water. After the death of my mother it was the only place for my heart’s ease. My father worked as a fisherman, and was frequently away; we hadn’t shared our mutual pain in a long time.

Unfortunately he had taken her death and burned it into his mind, he later admonished himself fully to whatever hopeless fantasies his ale gave him. So, I was forced to find employment, though he had been fully able to pay any expense. When I began the countless hours of training for the war, I was unable to complete both at the same time. I left my employer in the alley which he owned. I found that he later tried to make people believe that I had stolen from him and others. Right, a girl who can’t light a candle is suddenly a master thief. who at that lives right outside the town. I laughed at the thought.

I rode along the ocean side for an hour watching each wave rise up to the rocks, made like black pearl by the setting sun, and then die back into its watery grave. A short distance away, the reasonably sized town of Glotemzeer lay like a fire in winter. A welcoming place with warmth and friends. Kenntalo made the rough terrain soft, as he began a slow trot. I reined him in when we reached a small, palm sized, hole in the ground from which you could hear the water seething below in a cave. I dismounted and removed a small round stone from the satchel that hung at my side. I quietly rolled the piece of granite into it and put my ear to the ground. A long and graceful chiming began to echo from it. I had no idea what it was that could make a cold rock ring like a crystal bell, and I had no wish to club my imagination into reality.

When the ringing ended, I hauled myself back into Kenntalo’s saddle. I turned, east toward the town.

It was a rare day when I did venture into Glotemzeer. The people were friendly enough, but when their eyes turned to me there was nothing to be had from it but shame. As the daughter of a drunk fisherman, at that one who frequently was the cause of whatever bar brawl there was, I was deemed as less than suitable company. Even the old mad woman who wandered about keening, would shuffle away from my path.

Just as suspected, farmers planting the fall crop eyed me and kept a closer watch on the bags of seed at the ends of each row.

Fools, the lot of you,” I muttered under my breath. Fie on you all.

Thank the Goddesses that the tavern was near the edge of the town. A row of horses stood tied to long poles that had been solidly driven into the ground. I found one away from the colorful array of horseflesh and tied Kenntalo to it.

There was a cacophony of laughter as I pushed open the thick wooden door that protected the outside world from the drunkards. Some voices died off as I entered but I shrugged it off and walked through the many men drinking away the day’s worries. Benehi was calmly sipping at a large mug.

“Fara!” A large arm wrapped itself about my stomach and swung me into one of the wooden chairs around an abused table. Anger filled me. I watched as my father sprawled into the chair opposite me. His sandy hair was oily and he appeared to have been refusing a wash bin for the last couple weeks. All of his clothing reeked of raw fish and a tankard of beer was set firmly in his hand. One of his large hands whacked my shoulder playfully. It wasn’t long before blood rushed to the area and a faint stinging sensation began to bloom. He smiled drunkenly at me, brown eyes glazed with the alcohol. “Where were you all day, girl?” His heavy voice seemed to good and kind for that of a drunkard. I narrowed my eyes wondering what he was playing at.

I glared at him. “You should know the answer to that, Sirus.”

“You should call me Papa, or Father, like the other girls ion town do to the fathers.” A scowl warned me that I would have to be more careful with my words or this could turn violent.

“Yes, Father.” I choked on the words and felt bile in my mouth.

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” The dangerous man returned to the happy drunk.

“No, Father.” It felt like insects were pouring down my spine.

“There’s a girl. Now you just sit down here and have some of this good beer while I just hurry on home to see what I can scrounge up for me dinner!” I turned my head away as anger drove a heated flush through my cheeks.

As soon as he disappeared through the exit I stood, waving off the bar maid who asked if I wanted the same as the man who just left. I strode to where Benehi was finishing off the remainder of the drink.

I sat across from him. “And are you now drunk enough to engage me in a fine lecture of the other ways that I can contribute to the war?”

He swirled his cup around a bit, gazing at it absently. “Not quite. But water will do that to you.” His eyes came up to calmly meet my own. “Any explanation as to why you submit to such treatment?”

I narrowed my eyes and searched his for a twinge of pity. Either he felt none or he covered it better than I was able to search for it. “I have no where to go.”

“Such is the problem in our world today.” he swirled the empty container again. “So, what is your plan? Will you return to your father’s home?

I glared across the gouged table at him but before I could give a brisk reply, a wooden chair splintered to my right, followed by Glotemzeer’s burly blacksmith.

“Knock him on ‘is rear, Cayrod!” “Teach him, smith!” “Aye! Teach him!”

Amid the ruckus, Cayrod mumbled an apology. His sooty hand made a pass through the shaggy black mane gracing his head, before hauling his large figure off the dented oak floor and returning to the general whereabouts of his challenger.

I didn’t get a clear look at the big man’s opponent, but through the gathered crowd I saw wisps of a lean figure with dark umber hair.

I glanced back to see Benehi’s response. He was scowling at the gather townspeople, like they were squabbling children. I shook my head. they could pummel themselves to death for all my care. Through the mass of people, the sounds of fists connecting solidly with flesh could be heard.

Standing to leave, I looked down into Benehi’s battle worn face. “Don’t expect me to take you up on any of those ‘suggestions’. I have my own ideas to act upon.”

His left eyebrow quirked up. “Like what?”

I turned away from the table and to the giant door. “Like what my mother accomplished with no magic at all.” I scooted around the people clapping and congratulating the winner of the brawl, trying not to sprint for the exit, but trying to get there quickly all the same.

Once outside, I breathed in the night air. Some horses had been replaced by others. I looked to where I had left Kenntalo. He stood exactly where he had been left. Sirus must have not realized that the black horse was his own and walked all the way home. Holding back and exasperated sigh, I pulled Kenntalo’s reins off of the pole and led him away from the heart of the town. I headed directly for the coastline where I would find what I next sought.

I dismounted, pulling my foot from the stirrups, as they stuck to my boot. I scowled when Kenntalo began leaning into me. The bristling horse hair poked at the skin on my elbows that wasn’t holding onto the leather saddle for dear life. I slapped my free hand on his hindquarters and he slowly, but obediently, straightened and shifted to the other hoof. I reached one hand into the saddlebags, feeling the bottom for the small latch that held the secret compartment closed. With two fingers, it was unlatched and the bottom folded up to reveal an old tattered pouch. Normally would be in a pocket I had sewn into the inside of my ragged cloak, feeling for hang on the inside on my overcoat, but for the hours I spent training with Benehi it remained safely hidden from the world in the saddle bag. I gently tipped the bag and released the bag of its contents. A mirror of silver, crafted and engraved by my mother. In the center of the glass, it had been inset with a single small, yet pure, sapphire. The crafter had made her talent a well-paid craft in our village. This was the only remnant of her that was still in her family after her death to fever.

My mother, Kantallia, rarely made inscriptions on her mirrors. When she did, they were simple and barefaced in their meaning. Most of them were, ‘always and forever’ and saved for the newly hand fasted.

But instead of said simplicity, a lengthy and cryptic quote had been chosen:

Taymarua, one day you will remember yourself, and your promise to return.

This quote held no meaning for myself. It seemed to be a useless saying engraved merely for it mystery. But still I could not help but wonder: who was this stranger, and why did they have reason to return?

Along with this hidden treasure, buried out of sight among her night dresses. I had found a small note. Scrawled in my mothers gentle calligraphy across the torn piece of parchment was the name Fara.

These days I sometimes speculated that she had taken the name ‘Taymarua’ out of her order. Among the people who had the average amount of magic, there were those born with abilities in their element that could be used to well beyond those of most. Some to an almost frightening extent. These were the clan Talrheinnia. They had greater power than any man, woman, or child that could be found in our small town. My mother had been the one next in the lines of Chief Priestess’, the rulers of the Talrheinnia. She had met my father when he was trading his catch of fish. As the daughter of a respectable harbor lord, she had been told to oversee proper dealings of shipping and unloading of cargo. However, once my parents had gazed upon each other, they could never be separated. For the two weeks his ship was docked at the town, they were always together. On the second to last day, she did not meet him in the morning like usual. Resigned to having no words of parting from her, he quickly prepared his ship for departure. It was later learned that the night she had not been to meet him, she had smuggled herself aboard. He found her hidden in the cabin. They were married by the new moon. In Glotemzeer she became widely known for her skills in both the mirror craft and her considerable powers in the element of Water. She was excepted into the Talrheinnia and had soon become it’s heir to the Water Temple. By right, I was now the one who waited to be the next Talrheinnia priestess, since children were often powerful as the parent. The day I was proclaimed powerless, the possibility of holding the position was denied to me. Of course to solidify the proclamation, they remarked upon another fact which played part: that I had not the endless years of training that was required to be a priestess nor the liberty to receive them.

Within the Talrheinnia were special elemental groups. One of Fire, that ruled the place of the Fire Throne, and another the Earth Throne, and so on and so forth. I would have governed the Throne of Water had I remained in the order and been granted power .

I did not remount Kenntalo. It would bring me home faster, which was exactly where I didn’t want to be. I knew what I would find there. My father would be sitting at our knife-gouged table submerged in whatever hopeless dreams his ale lent him.

I listened to the crunch of rocks under the soles of my boots. What a coincidence, it grinds against boots and nerves alike. Kenntalo must have sensed my uneasiness, I felt the lead loosen and his head came up to rest on my shoulder. I stopped and rubbed his forehead, musing the long forelock that hid nothing but more jet colored horse flesh. “I wish you knew how to fix all this, my friend.” I kissed his nose and continued up the cliff path.

A small stone cottage came into view. In the front was a small carrel for Kenntalo, which was attached to a small shed where the few goats and pig we owned were kept.

When we reached the paddock, I unsaddled Keta, then released the goat that had sadly been named NimNim, whom gave him company during the night, from the stock pen.

When I rounded the stand of trees that separated the stalls and the house, I was struck by an odor that belonged no where in this world. In the world of Hell, it did. The closer I got the more I could feel whatever presence was in the small stone cottage. My hair danced in the air as I quickened my pace.