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Chapter 1: A Champion for the Taking
Sabin swiftly raised his sword just in time to block a blow from his opponent and jumped back, removing himself from any more immediate danger. He really needed to pay more attention to the match, but that was hard to accomplish seeing as his mind was elsewhere. Sabin was too busy watching the slender, black-haired woman who’d just entered the training house. This was the tenth time he’d seen her in just as many days, and he was beginning to worry. There was nothing to warrant his unease, but that rational thought didn’t help to alleviate his fears.
He turned his attention back to the sparring match and successfully dodged another attack. Sabin knew he was a better swordsman than his current opponent; unfortunately, that didn’t translate into an easy win, especially now when he was so preoccupied. He executed a graceful form and pushed his opponent back into a defensive mode, determined to finish this round and confront the woman who was clearly stalking him. A few more fluid moves forced his challenger back against a wall, giving Sabin the opening he needed to win. He slipped the blade of his sword up and held it under his opponent’s chin. “Match,” he whispered.
The other man smiled as Sabin lowered his sword. “I almost had you,” he announced and ran his hand over his face to dispel the sweat that had accumulated there during the bout.
Sabin inclined his head ever so slightly, acknowledging the truth of the man’s words. “Yet, I still remain champion. Almost does not count here, sir. You must win if you wish to gain bragging rights.” He didn’t mean to sound cocky, but it upset him when newcomers thought so highly of themselves. Sabin knew he wasn’t the best swordsman, he was only seventeen after all; he just had to make the other man aware that he wasn’t either. Some people just refused to see the obvious sometimes.
The other man flushed and quickly left the floor. Sabin watched him disappear through the door before moving. It was time to have a little talk with that woman. He strode across the room with his head held high; he wasn’t going to let his fears cow him. “What can I help you with, ma’am?” he decided to at least try to be polite until he knew the reason for her continued presence.
The woman’s pale face and light blue presented a stark contrast to the darkness of her hair, making her seem cold if not downright callous. And though pretty, there was nothing delicate about her features; she wasn’t some fragile woman use to being pampered, but when she smiled, her whole countenance changed. Only then did it actually look like she was a woman a person could befriend. “Good day, young sir,” she replied after an awkward moment of silence passed between them.
Sabin didn’t know what to make of her. This was the first time he’d seen her up close and it was disconcerting. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, and that realization gave his unease an even sharper edge. “Are you lost?” he inquired somewhat tersely; she hadn’t even bothered to answer his first question.
She shook her head, her smile fading into a smirk. “No, I believe I’ve found just what I’ve been looking for.”
Sabin settled his sword into its scabbard as if to prove to her that he wasn’t frightened. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. You’ve found nothing but the training house and only those working with the Swordmaster may enter. You really must leave,” he countered and tilted his head towards the door. His fear had begun to weaken in the face of his growing impatience, giving him an air confidence he didn’t really feel, but she was being difficult, and he’d had enough. What right did she have to watch him and make him uncomfortable? He was supposed to feel comfortable at the training house; he’d spent a good part of his life practicing here. She had no right to destroy the peace of the place for him even if it did turn out to be unintentional.
The woman’s laughter startled Sabin. “You truly are dense,” she said after a moment.
Sabin placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, half tempted to draw the blade on the impetuous woman before him. Her words had reignited his fear and his blade was the only comfort he could find. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would make yourself scarce now. I can only force myself to tolerate so much.”
“I’m not afraid of you, boy,” the woman retorted and seized Sabin’s wrist. With once quick move she spun the startled young man around and slammed him against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him. She laid her free hand against his bare chest, directly over his heart and closed her eyes.
Sabin tried to pull away but found himself utterly unable to move. His mind worked frantically as it tried to find some way out of this predicament but nothing presented itself. He had no idea what was going on; all of this was just crazy. Suddenly, pain flared in his chest and threatened to overwhelm him. Sabin fought and managed to cling to consciousness; he couldn’t let himself fail. He dropped his chin and tried to see what was causing such pain, but the only thing there was the woman’s hand. It didn’t make sense.
A few more minutes passed before the pain in his chest vanished followed by the paralysis that had kept him locked in place. With that invisible force gone there was nothing left holding Sabin up; he stumbled forward no longer able to keep his balance and fell onto the floor, barely getting his hands up in time to prevent himself from a head on collision. Sabin laid there for awhile in an attempt to regain his bearings. Whatever that damn woman had done to him had really thrown him off; he was use to always being in control of himself. After a moment he felt secure enough to test his legs. He got to his feet and looked around; he didn’t know what he was looking for until his eyes landed on the woman.
A compulsion to get her to safety dropped over him as his eyes settled on her crumpled form. He fought the urge; he had no reason to want to help her. She’d done nothing but upset him from the moment he laid eyes on her, yet he soon found himself lifting her into his arms and hurrying from the training house. Sabin rushed through town and into the bordering forest. He came upon a small clearing a short distance from town and laid the woman down without understanding why. Sabin intended on leaving then, believing that whatever had come over him had passed, but he wasn’t able to go far. He had barely made it twenty steps before something inside of him forced him back to her side.
Sabin tried again, only to discover that nothing had changed, but he refused to give up. He wasn’t going to be trapped by something he didn’t even understand. He wasn’t going to rest until he found away to escape whatever evil she’d laid upon him.
The boy saw her seconds later and ceased pacing. He drew his sword as he made his way towards her, anger blanketing his face. “What have you done to me?!” he yelled and jabbed the sword in her direction.
Jorjanna laughed. She knew he was a capable swordsman but his pitiful display of force was pathetic; he’d learn in time that there wasn’t anything he could do to her. The hook she’d forced into him the day before ensured her safety in his presence. “You claimed to be a champion so I took you as my own,” she countered and eased herself into a full sitting position. Jorjanna could sense the boy’s tension through the forced bond and knew she needed to assert herself quickly. It wouldn’t do if her champion believed he could boss her around.
The boy’s brown eyes widened in surprise, “What are you talking about?” he demanded and shoved his sword forward threateningly. His disheveled blonde hair gave him a slightly crazed look that Jorjanna wasn’t sure she liked, especially if what she sensed about him was accurate.
“Strike me if you must for I refuse to tell you any more than I have,” Jorjanna challenged. She had to show him who was boss one way or another and a denying him what he wanted seemed like the best way to do just that.
The sword swung around with an incredible force but stopped more than two feet from Jorjanna. Confusion flashed across the boy’s face as he tried to force the sword forward but to no avail; he was unable to strike her. Jorjanna collapsed into laughter at the sight. “What have you done?” he whispered as he lowered his sword, his voice soft with defeat.
Jorjanna composed herself and got to her feet so she was eye level with the boy she’d chosen. “I already explained that. Now, we must go. I need to gather my things before we set off,” she replied and headed off deeper into the woods towards the campsite she’d abandoned just before going into town.
The boy didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My life and my family are here and nothing you can do will ever change that,” he rebelled, stubbornly clinging to the belief that he even had a choice in the matter.
“If that is what you believe, go then, and we shall see who is right,” Jorjanna replied and loosened her telepathic hold just enough to allow him to return to his home. She already knew what he would, or in this case, wouldn’t find. When she had forced the telepathic hook into him she had also erased the memory of him from the minds of all those who’d known him. Going back into town would do nothing but prove to him that he had nothing left. Jorjanna had taken it all.
She watched with a small smile as he took off running through the woods, believing himself free. He’d find out soon enough that he would never have that kind of freedom again. Jorjanna had chosen him as her champion and there was no way out.
He bounded up the steps of the training house a short while later, panting as he tried to get his breath back. It was stupid to have run so far, but he felt like he was racing against something. Sabin had no idea what that something might be but there was a pretty good chance it all tied back to that woman. He ground his teeth and hurried through the training house in search of the Swordmaster. He needed to warn someone about her.
He reached the man’s office a few seconds later and walked right in as he was long accustomed to doing. “Sir, I have something important to tell you…” his words trailed off when the Swordmaster drew his weapon and came out from behind the massive oak desk. Sabin backed towards the door, his hands held out before him to show he wasn’t a threat. “Sir, I don’t understand.”
“Who are you, boy?” the Swordmaster demanded.
Sabin’s face fell. “I’m Sabin. I’ve studied under you for nearly seven years now, sir,” he replied, his voice pleading. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing; how could the Swordmaster not remember him?
“I’ve never seen you before in my life. Now, you have two choices, leave or fight. I don’t take kindly to people who intrude on my privacy.”
“I’ll go, sir,” Sabin whispered and turned away, his heart heavy as his mind began to put together the pieces. That woman had seemed so sure of herself when she’d let him return to town; she had to have had something to do with the Swordmaster’s lapse. Sabin picked up his pace and left the training house; he needed to get home as soon as possible. Maybe his father would know how to help him.
He arrived home a short time later and hurried inside. “Mother!” he called as he made his way towards the kitchen where he could hear her working. Sabin stepped inside the warm room and smiled when his eyes landed on his mother. The love they had for one another would never fade; she was his life.
However, his friendly demeanor wasn’t returned by the woman at the stove. His mother snatched a butcher’s knife off of the counter and held it before her as if it alone would provide protection. “What do you want?” she cried.
Sabin’s chest tightened painfully; this couldn’t be happening. This was his family—she was his mother. “Mother,” he held a hand out in entreaty, praying that she would remember him. This whole situation was starting to feel like an extremely bad nightmare only he never could have imagined something this painful ever occurring. This was like ripping out his heart one little piece at a time.
“Mother? Boy, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink. ‘Tis a shame especially since it’s only midmorning,” she countered, still brandishing the knife.
Sabin saw no way to escape the horrible dream that had somehow become reality. He turned away from his mother and quickly left the house before he could run into his father. He didn’t think he would be able to handle another confrontation like that. Sabin slowly made his way through the streets of town, wandering aimlessly as his heart shattered. He didn’t know what to do. Somehow that woman had taken everything from him, including those he loved most. It seemed impossible, but her power over him had been clear enough the day before. Somehow she was controlling him and Sabin didn’t think he could stand it.
He stopped in the middle of the street, threw his head back and screamed, releasing his anger and defiance. Sabin wasn’t going to just sit by and let her destroy his life. It was his life; she had no right to it. That resolution was still fresh in his mind when a compulsion settled over him—he had to return to her. He fought the thought, but it was hopeless; despite all his strength, she was stronger than him.
Sabin began running once again, backtracking his earlier path into town. He didn’t want to run; he didn’t want to go, but the compulsion forced him to do both. She had trapped him and Sabin couldn’t see any way out.
He got to his feet and cast one hollow look in her direction before gathering up her belongings as she’d directed.
Jorjanna nodded her approval and began walking, mindless of where they were going. All that mattered to her was her safety and now she had someone to protect her. Life was slowly starting to improve. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure he was following her and then turned her attention back to the road before them.
