A Light in the Dark
Ailos - 22nd of Ash, Year 383 of the Age of Sundering
Despite her internal grumbling, the Siltori silently made her way through the dorms, her steps a whisper against the hard floor. Most of her fellow Aspirants would be asleep behind the thick wooden doors, recuperating after another hard day. Veriel could not give herself that luxury, not when she still hadn’t been inducted as a knight after almost an entire year. Those who had volunteered around the same time as her had all either been knighted or failed their initiation. They said if she was to be initiated right now, there would be no doubt that she would die.
A knight-sergeant had even told her to return to Auris instead of wasting all of their time. While it was something Veriel had thought of herself before, hearing someone else saying it hurt her pride. It hurt her pride enough that she had been waking up in the dark, like today, and made her way to the armory for the past three weeks just to prove to everyone that she did have what it took to become a Knight of the Dawnmartyr.
The Siltori knocked at the thick wooden door, pushing it inside without waiting for an answer. Knight Lade, an older member who had been chosen as a swordkeeper, would have been asleep. The loud painful creak of the door was the only thing that would wake him. The first night she came here, Veriel had knocked for a good half an hour before he woke up.
Sure enough, under the low light of the torches bolted to the wall, a figure groaned as he rose from his chair. The swordkeeper clicked his tongue in disdain as he slowly recognized her. “Aspirant d’Revrinti, while I admire your tenacity, do you know how much sleep I have lost just because you decide to train during these ungodly hours?” Despite his grumbling, the old man was already picking up the wooden katana she always used.
Veriel could only smile sheepishly as she accepted the sword. “I promise I won’t bother you tomorrow.” Perhaps she could jog around Ailos instead for tomorrow - endurance was another thing she needed to work on, after all. With a grunt, the white-haired man dismissed her and sunk back into his chair to sleep, snoring before she had even left the room.
The sharp winds whipped at her clothes as she reached the training grounds. It was a large grassy field that looked exponentially bigger with no one around. Knights in armor patrolled the white stone ramparts surrounding it. Stars still glinted in the night sky and the moon was shrouded by clouds, casting long shadows over her. No one would bother her at this hour, except for the occasional knights passing through. The first few nights they had questioned her presence, but by now most would simply let her be.
One side of the field was lined with stuffed straw dummies and she picked the one at the very edge. It looked slightly more worn than the rest - most likely due to the fact that it was the sole victim of her sword practices for days. Standing in front of it, Veriel raised her wooden sword and began striking. She had gotten better thanks to her night training - her swings faster and stronger. Her arms were also able to hold up a blade longer, but compared to the other Aspirants she still wasn’t good enough.
No matter how much time she spent with a sword in hand, Veriel still had a difficult time in one-on-one combat. The other Aspirants would often pick her as a sparring partner, knowing they would come out looking like the more formidable swordsman than her.
She liked to think that she had made the decision to join the Dawnmartyrs as one she had made after careful consideration. But it seemed like it might be a rash one. Veriel had let herself be blinded by her awe of the Order, daring to imagine herself being able to do as much good to the world as they did. To be part of such light and hope.
Was it wrong for her to want that?
With frustration fueling her, Veriel struck the dummy again and again and again.
