Chapter 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The swords rang as they came together. The blades were apart in the blink of an eye as their users prepared to strike again.
Covarla's opponent had a gloss of sweat on his face. She had a similar gloss to her face. Sweat was soaking into Covarla's shirt and ran down her back and trailed down her legs. Her long, brown hair was held back in a braid. Her soft green eyes darted to follow her opponent. She was armed only with her sword and a small knife that hung at her belt.
This was the third opponent she had fought thus far. Her current opponent had also won two matches before facing her. She only had to win this match and the next until she won the competition. She hoped that she would win this, but she had some doubts. She had always strived for greatness and winning this competition would prove her to be the third best swordsman in the entire village.
The villagers on one side of the small, circular area were watching with excitement, impartially cheering for all the contestants. The village council members sat in the front row, intently watching the competitors. The student on the other side of the circle had bets as to who would win, but they all knew it would be close. Her teacher stood carefully watching the match with a blank expression that betrayed not even the slightest hint of an emotion. Covarla put the cheering students and villagers out of her mind as she turned her attention back to her opponent.
Her opponent tried to strike her heart, but his blow was easily deflected. She moved gracefully into a slash at his guts. Her opponent didn't have time to defect her blow and would have been gravely wounded had she not stopped her blade before it could pierce his skin. Covarla kept her blade and body perfectly still as her opponent also froze.
The teacher slowly walked over to where his two students were standing motionless. At a signal from the approaching old man, Covarla and her opponent straightened and sheathed their swords at their sides. Their teacher motioned the crowd for silence. In a strong, ringing voice he said, "The winner is Covarla Kyshu. Next match is Covarla Kyshu versus Rahn Gowr."
The crowd cheered as Covarla and her classmate bowed to each other and her former opponent left the circle. Covarla's next opponent, Rahn, stepped in to take his place. This would be a close match because Rahn and Covarla were the two best students in the village and were also close friends. They were so close in ability that nobody knew for certain who would be the winner of the match. The crowd watched them with only soft murmurs.
Rahn and Covarla bowed to each other before drawing their swords. They both made a series of simple probing strokes with the purpose of seeking the others weakness. The easy probing strokes developed into more serious strokes. Covarla deflected one of the blows and dodged another while making Rahn dodge one of her overhand strokes. Their swords rang when they met.
Rahn almost won when he tried a blow to her head, but his sword stopped in thin air beside where her head should have been only to find she wasn't there anymore. The error of his move sunk in when he noticed that she had the edge of her sword poised so that if the blow hadn't been stopped he would have been missing his head.
The old man came over to them as Rahn and Covarla sheathed their swords. In the same strong and ringing voice as before he said, "The winner of this match and the winner of the competition is Covarla Kyshu."
The crowd cheered with happiness as Rahn and Covarla bowed to each other. Covarla and Rahn went to the side of the circular practice grounds that the other students were waiting on. The students offered congratulations to Covarla and condolences to Rahn. Covarla smiled and thanked all those who had congratulated her.
Sword Competitions were a normal part of Paran society and occurred in small villages and large cities. They happened every generation and were a tradition among Parans. Para was a country of fighters and craftsmen with a few mages thrown in. The best fighters on the continent came from Para. Para also produced a few very talented Magicians, Craftsmen, and Artists.
Covarla's teacher, Master Cear Huyett, had been one of the best when he was younger and still was. That he was old was proof that he had been very good, otherwise he may not have lived as long as he had. Shortly after Master Huyett had come to the village of Amaranth, he had started a school to teach young men and women how to use swords and other weapons. He was the best swordsman in the village. Master Huyett also taught his students how to survive. He taught them a little bit about herbs and a few very simple magic spells that would be useful to them.
Covarla smiled and explained to her fellow students and teachers that she had to leave and tell her parents about the competition. They nodded with understanding and called congratulations after her as she left the practice area and school grounds.
The news of the tournament spread through the village around her like fire. She was congratulated by the villagers as she walked along the dirt path between the houses. The news fanned out ahead of her and would probably get to everyone in the village before the sun started to set.
Covarla could see her house coming into view around the corner of a nearby house. It was a two story building made of wood that looked almost exactly like the other buildings in the village. For some unknown reason the door seemed to be slightly ajar. Covarla quickened her pace when she saw this because her parents usually kept the door either wide open or fully shut and never only slightly open. Nobody else would have noticed this, but she knew her parents habits better than the other people in the village.
When Covarla entered her home she noticed an odd smell coming from the next room. She saw that everything was scattered about as if there had been some trouble. Chairs were knocked over. Books that had once lined shelves on one side of the room were scattered throughout the room. A hanging that had once pictured a scene from a far away land now was torn into many large pieces. A vase that had held freshly picked flowers in the morning was now lying broken on the ground in a puddle of water with the remains of the flowers it had held. The doors to the adjacent rooms all stood open.
She went into a room at the back of the house that was her parents bedroom. There, among the scattered contents of the room, were the bodies of her mother and father, two craftsmen. Their blood stained the woven rugs that covered the wooden floor.
Covarla knelt down beside her parents' bodies, hoping that they were still alive. Her head bowed in grief when she found no heartbeat. Tears ran freely down her cheeks only to fall to the floor and mix with her parents' blood.
A cry of anguish escaped from Covarla's lips. She barely noticed the sound of worried neighbors approaching her from behind. There were murmurs of confusion when they found the scattered contents of the main room. Gasps escaped from the people behind her when they entered the room she was in and saw what it contained. Some eyes were averted while others stared in horror and shock. Someone left to tell Master Huyett, the village council members and the rest of the villagers about what had happened.
Covarla felt strong hands helping her to her feet and leading her away from her parents bodies. She recognized some of the grim faces that surrounded her, but most were lost in her world of shock and sadness. She did not recognize the woman that led her through the crowd and into a nearby house.
Covarla's world was swallowed in a sea of grief that threatened to drown her before she even had a chance to get a breath of air. The woman that lead her gave her a cup of tea. She didn't realize until it was too late that the tea was flavored with dorman root. The root acted immediately to put her into a deep sleep which would last for several hours.
Home Next Chapter