Matthew R LeRoy [LeRoy - The Abomination of Eyes- Spokes of Wanderlust

THE ABOMINATION OF EYES

Spokes of Wanderlust

A Matthew LeRoy Novel

Illustrations by Adriatica Creation

ACT I: THE IMPRISONED AND THE LOST

B lades clashed, the hand-and-a-half bastard sword ringing loudly against the black metal blade of the longsword. Usable as one-handed or two-handed blade, the small woman carried it tightly in both hands, performing a twirling motion and swinging low. Sir Osric, clad in ebon plate armor, jumped over the blade, narrowly missing his feet. Ceresi gritted her teeth, and aggressively performed another swing, which Sir Osric rolled out of the way off, and parried it with his sword yet again. They eyed each other up close, their blades barred against each other. Sir Osrics helmeted, black-beaked visage was in stark contrast to Ceresis youngish face, though the ferocity in her eyes eclipsed her innocent appearance.

Now you try. Sir Osric stated flatly. Ceresi nodded.

They unlocked swords, and Sir Osric began brandishing his blade. Ceresi did a series of rolls, dodges, and parries to escape her lieges relentless assault. Onlookers had gathered, some native to the city, others from their current army, a mix of Highwall and Southampton troops. Bezenarch, commander of the Southampton branch of the armys forces, was watching them practice intently. She folded her large, muscular arms, her dark eyes peering at Ceresis movements. She wished to learn, but she was too big to move so agilely. She realized this, especially when Ceresi began performing a series of dodges followed by backward flips!

Sir Osric stopped short, removing his helmet. His graying, silver-flecked hair was greasy and shiny with sweat. Panting, he looked at his subordinate seriously, and with curiosity. When the helld you start learnin that?

Ceresi, standing several paces away due to her backwards somersaults, held her blade erect from near her belly, in a guarding position. Her shoulders, covered by gray, padded cloth, shrugged. Sel and I had been practicing a while. Have to be quick to dodge a diving eagle.

The black knight nodded in approval. Seeing an entourage of Northampton elite warriors, the Hammerheads, approaching on the street, accompanied by some nerdy, officious-looking gentleman with glasses, he realized that the practice match was over. He sheathed his blade.

That training will come in handy if we encounter any giant-class creatures. Sir Osric stated.

Ceresi sheathed her blade in the scabbard attached to her back. She was small enough so that the sword would easily hit the ground if she had it belted to her waist. Such as Constalon?

Sir Osric was walking passed Ceresi towards the officials that were making their way toward him. His mustache curled slightly in a tired smile. Was thinking probly the Judge, but yeah itd work against Constalon too. In practice.

The young knight-scout nodded in agreement. She was the third best warrior in the party, but by a large margin. She generally lost the majority of sparring matches against Constalon, but with her intense agility training as of late, she might be able to give the big, barbarian of a man a better run for his money next time they practiced. Sir Osric, on the other hand, was nigh impossible for her to defeat, despite her best efforts. Last time she had beaten him, she had lucked out, over a year ago. She remembered it well enough. He had lost his footing on a small stone that he had happened to land his foot on after dodging a blow. Not one to pass up an opportunity, she remembered leaping in, and tackling her liege, then placing her blade against his shoulder, to mock placing the blade upon his throat. Such memories were glorious, since they were so far and few between.

She watched as Sir Osric greeted the official entourage. Her liege was no doubt being called off somewhere to sign legal documents and file a release order. They had been stuck here in a loose house-arrest for over a week now. Northampton had quite the suspicion of mages, and had imprisoned the High Wizardess, Alaine, somewhere in the towers of the castle. She was sure that she was being decently treated, though she wondered for how long.

They all knew that something was amiss in this city, the city of Blinterburg, capitol of Northampton. The trail of the Abomination of Eyes had ended here, and they knew that the Star Elf, Cucatlitrix Ra, had somehow gained control over it. That the ranking body here in Blinterburg had suddenly shifted with the mysterious and convenient disappearance of the King and his family, and been replaced by the High Judge Martel, was no mere coincidence. Judge Martel was a die-hard advocate of Gracian Law, and had conveniently signed a treaty with that nation just in time to allow the courts to imprison mages. This move left she and her comrades stranded here in the quarantined district of the city until further notice. Not to mention that somehow, Sir Osric and Oltavien both seemed to realize that some of the nobility here were vampire-kin. She feared the worst. And was ready for it.

Sir Osric signed a parchment, standing in front of the company. They nodded and beckoned for him to follow. Waving for Ceresi to stay put, he attended the officials and Hammerhead escort guards as they took him through town. This time, it wouldnt be to the courthouse to go through any more proceedings, thankfully. Nay, this time he had been allowed a visit to the quarters in which Alaine was being kept. It had taken some time and diplomacy, but Sir Osric had been demanding to see her, just as visual proof that she was being treated fairly. Realizing his concern, they had finally caved in and allowed him to go meet with her. Hopefully he would be able to start visiting on a daily basis, but he doubted it. It was likely going to only be a weekly thing, if that. Hopefully too, they wouldnt be held as guests for that long though. They needed to find a way out of this, court proceedings or no.

Ceresi turned to the smell of fresh bread down the street. She had grown fond of a small bakery in the area, and particularly enjoyed their toast. She decided to go alone, and not go gather her top lieutenant, Froen, or even Oltavien. Not that Oltavien would ever take his helmet off to eat anything in front of anybody, anyway. The young fighter wasnt sure if that was a gimmick, or if his face had been scarred during one of his battles with all the lycanthropes he had hunted in his day.

As she walked along the wide dirt road, littered with small brown rocks, wandering passersby, and occasional fellow soldier, a weight began hanging down on her heart. She looked up to the sky. Just gray. Nothing. Barely any sun in these lands, and the frosts were getting terribly worse. It wasnt the cold, nor the sky, though. She missed Sel.

The druid had escaped confinement by simply reading the Hammerheads thoughts and flying out of the area before he was captured. While Ceresi was grateful that his friend, and sometimes she wished it was more than that, had escaped, she wanted him back. She missed him when he was shape-shifted into an eagle, always perched on her shoulder. She missed those wimpy little piping noises the bird made, which seemed so contrasting, given that the eagle was a predatory animal, and a dangerous form indeed. They would have hot cocoa sometimes, and often ate together, and went on walks. Sometimes, she got the feeling that Sel had second thoughts about her, as he kept turning away when he got too close. She wasnt quite sure why though, but she reasoned that it was probably because she was a hardened soldier, a Knight of the Order of the Iron Circle, and probably too disciplined for a vagabond druid and ex-stablehand. Still, a part of her cried a bit on the inside whilst she ate her toast and butter alone, scowling at the townsfolk as they gawked at her. She decided that shed sit outside at a table in front of the bakery and just contemplate things before going back to her daily training exercises.