The Path (a Sabriel fanfiction) Chapter 4
Summary: Sabriel's father is a young Abhorsen-in-Waiting. His aunt, the Abhorsen, brings him along on a strange mission. Who is the girl they are protecting? What does this mean for the future of the Kingdom? Terciel x Sabriel's Mother.
Warning: PG violence
Chapter 3 is here: blackat16.livejournal.com/968.html
Start at the beginning here: blackat16.livejournal.com/302.html
Or go to the master list: blackat16.livejournal.com/3611.html
“Terciel! Wait!”
When they had made camp, Terciel had taken off his cloak and surcoat, and now he was down to his light armor over a leather tunic. But Abhorsen was still in her riding clothes, and the rain-heavy fabric weighed her down. Terciel quickly outstripped her. Ignoring his master’s calls, he sprinted in the direction of the scream, whispering Charter marks for speed and strength under his breath.
Another scream rang out, this one angry rather than surprised. Guided by the sound, Terciel could just make out a shape in the darkness. Flailing arms, kicking feet, two bodies grappling in the brush, and, for an instant, the silhouette of a rotting head against the sky. Something Dead.
He drew a Charter mark for light as he ran and cast it over the scene. The Dead thing had Andrael pinned on the ground, and she was fighting tooth and nail to keep its rotting jaws away from her throat. Her lips were drawn back in a feral snarl, and every piece of exposed flesh was marked with shallow cuts from the brambles on the ground. The two fighters ignored the sudden light, so intent were they on their battle.
“Anet! Calew! Ferhan!” Terciel shouted, his panicked mind only able to remember the most basic of attack spells. Silver Charter-blades flew true and sank into Dead flesh with a wet sound. The creature flinched, and Andrael managed to plant her foot on its chest and kick it off of her. As she scrambled away from it, Terciel turned towards it and swung his sword.
He missed. For such a decayed body, the Dead thing was surprisingly agile, and it neatly sidestepped Terciel’s attack. While Terciel was off balance, the thing grabbed the blade of his sword, ignoring the Charter marks that flared up and burned its skin.
“This one bites!” the thing laughed through a rotting mouth, and it yanked the sword toward it. Still unsteady, Terciel was pulled forward with it. He would have to let go of his main weapon, or be drawn straight into the creature’s jaws.
But then Andrael reappeared, this time wielding a rock the size of two fists. Her eyes wild, she slammed the rock into the back of the creature’s skull, and Terciel was able to get his feet under himself and pull his sword free. The creature was still standing, but there was a sizable dent in its head where the bone had caved in. It probably would have been a fatal blow, if the thing had been alive.
“You’re just babies,” the Dead thing growled, the words barely intelligible, “With your sticks and stones. I‘ll make you watch as I eat your hearts! I’ll…”
But its tirade was cut short by a deep, clear note of sound that pierced through the darkness. Confused, the creature tried to run and found that its stolen body would no longer answer to it. Held in place, it watched as a woman stepped into the circle of light. Her black hair was wild, the silver keys on her coat seemed to catch the light like jewels, and in her hand she held Saraneth.
“Abhorsen!” the Dead thing whispered, all the fight gone from its voice. It knew what lay in store for it.
Without a word, Abhorsen drew Kibeth and rang it all in one motion. Terciel would have struggled to control the tricksome bell, but Abhorsen didn’t hesitate, and the bell rang true. With quiet surrender, the spirit left its rotting home and sped across the boundary into Death. It had not been a particularly strong revenant, and Terciel knew that with Kibeth’s expertly-played music in its ears it would walk all the way through the Ninth Gate.
Abhorsen turned her gaze on the two children, the fierceness of battle still in her eyes. “The next time I tell you to wait,” she said, her voice deceptively calm, “You would do well to mind me.”
“He saved my life!” Andrael protested. Though her face and hands were bleeding, and her whole body shook, her voice was still strong and willful.
Abhorsen said nothing, but her eyes softened and she suddenly seemed very tired. Carefully replacing her bells, she turned back to camp without a word. Terciel followed, adrenaline still making his ears ring. He put a hand on Andrael’s shoulder to steady her, and she leaned into him with an exhausted sigh.
They didn’t bother with a fire, but went straight to sleep. Because Andrael had no bedroll, Terciel offered his. Andrael didn’t argue. She crawled into the bedroll and was asleep almost instantly.
“I’ll take first watch,” said Terciel. Abhorsen nodded. Then, after staring at him seriously for several seconds, she removed her bell bandolier and handed it to him.
“As long as you’re guarding us,” she said, “You might as well have something better than your pipes.”
“A-are you sure?” he stammered, taking the bells gingerly, as if they might spring from their fastenings and ring out at any moment.
“You have more than enough training to use them,” Abhorsen said, “And it’s time you got used to wearing them. You’ll be Abhorsen one day, after all.”
“Not for a long time,” said Terciel, but he draped the bandolier over his shoulder anyway. Abhorsen was not a lenient master, and loaning him her bells was the highest of compliments. She went to sleep without a word, but Terciel saw the way she clutched her sword beneath her blankets, as if she might strike with it at any moment.
Hours later, after the moon had risen high to glow through the thin layer of clouds, Terciel was beginning to nod off when something tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and almost cried out, but it was only Andrael. As spent as she had been after the fight with the revenant, she was now fully awake and focused.
“Sorry I scared you,” she said.
“I should have been paying attention,” Terciel admitted. He was glad Abhorsen hadn’t seen how close he had been to falling asleep. Especially after she had entrusted him with the bells.
“I…” Andrael began, blushing, “I wanted to apologize for the trouble I caused today. I shouldn’t have wandered off.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.
Andrael bit her lip. “Maybe, but I still feel pretty useless,” she said, “If you hadn’t come, I don’t know how long I could have…”
“You were holding your own,” said Terciel, “And don’t forget, you saved me too.”
“Well, I can’t always count on a convenient rock to be lying nearby,” she said, some of the humor coming back to her voice, “And besides, I got really lucky. I’d like something more reliable. Like those Charter-blades you summoned. Could you teach me those?”
Terciel hesitated. He had never been put in the position of teacher before. He certainly knew the theory well enough, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to explain it to Andrael. “Are you a Charter Mage at all?” he asked.
“No,” she said unapologetically, “I‘m baptized, so I have the mark, but I was never trained as a mage. Even if I had been, no one would have taught me combat magic. But I’ll work so hard to learn it! Oh, Terciel, please say you’ll teach me!”
From the determination in her eyes, Terciel believed that she would be a good pupil. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll explain on the road tomorrow, and we’ll practice when we next make camp. But get some sleep for now, okay?”
Terciel’s hand was resting on the ground. Andrael put her hand over his and pressed it, beaming her gratitude. It may have been the remaining adrenaline from the scare she had given him earlier, but he though he felt his skin grow warmer. “I won’t let you down!” she said before scampering back to her bed.
Some time later, Abhorsen stirred and joined Terciel at the edge of camp. She held out her hand, and Terciel handed her back the bell bandolier before taking his turn to sleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 5 is here: blackat16.livejournal.com/1491.html
Warning: PG violence
Chapter 3 is here: blackat16.livejournal.com/968.html
Start at the beginning here: blackat16.livejournal.com/302.html
Or go to the master list: blackat16.livejournal.com/3611.html
“Terciel! Wait!”
When they had made camp, Terciel had taken off his cloak and surcoat, and now he was down to his light armor over a leather tunic. But Abhorsen was still in her riding clothes, and the rain-heavy fabric weighed her down. Terciel quickly outstripped her. Ignoring his master’s calls, he sprinted in the direction of the scream, whispering Charter marks for speed and strength under his breath.
Another scream rang out, this one angry rather than surprised. Guided by the sound, Terciel could just make out a shape in the darkness. Flailing arms, kicking feet, two bodies grappling in the brush, and, for an instant, the silhouette of a rotting head against the sky. Something Dead.
He drew a Charter mark for light as he ran and cast it over the scene. The Dead thing had Andrael pinned on the ground, and she was fighting tooth and nail to keep its rotting jaws away from her throat. Her lips were drawn back in a feral snarl, and every piece of exposed flesh was marked with shallow cuts from the brambles on the ground. The two fighters ignored the sudden light, so intent were they on their battle.
“Anet! Calew! Ferhan!” Terciel shouted, his panicked mind only able to remember the most basic of attack spells. Silver Charter-blades flew true and sank into Dead flesh with a wet sound. The creature flinched, and Andrael managed to plant her foot on its chest and kick it off of her. As she scrambled away from it, Terciel turned towards it and swung his sword.
He missed. For such a decayed body, the Dead thing was surprisingly agile, and it neatly sidestepped Terciel’s attack. While Terciel was off balance, the thing grabbed the blade of his sword, ignoring the Charter marks that flared up and burned its skin.
“This one bites!” the thing laughed through a rotting mouth, and it yanked the sword toward it. Still unsteady, Terciel was pulled forward with it. He would have to let go of his main weapon, or be drawn straight into the creature’s jaws.
But then Andrael reappeared, this time wielding a rock the size of two fists. Her eyes wild, she slammed the rock into the back of the creature’s skull, and Terciel was able to get his feet under himself and pull his sword free. The creature was still standing, but there was a sizable dent in its head where the bone had caved in. It probably would have been a fatal blow, if the thing had been alive.
“You’re just babies,” the Dead thing growled, the words barely intelligible, “With your sticks and stones. I‘ll make you watch as I eat your hearts! I’ll…”
But its tirade was cut short by a deep, clear note of sound that pierced through the darkness. Confused, the creature tried to run and found that its stolen body would no longer answer to it. Held in place, it watched as a woman stepped into the circle of light. Her black hair was wild, the silver keys on her coat seemed to catch the light like jewels, and in her hand she held Saraneth.
“Abhorsen!” the Dead thing whispered, all the fight gone from its voice. It knew what lay in store for it.
Without a word, Abhorsen drew Kibeth and rang it all in one motion. Terciel would have struggled to control the tricksome bell, but Abhorsen didn’t hesitate, and the bell rang true. With quiet surrender, the spirit left its rotting home and sped across the boundary into Death. It had not been a particularly strong revenant, and Terciel knew that with Kibeth’s expertly-played music in its ears it would walk all the way through the Ninth Gate.
Abhorsen turned her gaze on the two children, the fierceness of battle still in her eyes. “The next time I tell you to wait,” she said, her voice deceptively calm, “You would do well to mind me.”
“He saved my life!” Andrael protested. Though her face and hands were bleeding, and her whole body shook, her voice was still strong and willful.
Abhorsen said nothing, but her eyes softened and she suddenly seemed very tired. Carefully replacing her bells, she turned back to camp without a word. Terciel followed, adrenaline still making his ears ring. He put a hand on Andrael’s shoulder to steady her, and she leaned into him with an exhausted sigh.
They didn’t bother with a fire, but went straight to sleep. Because Andrael had no bedroll, Terciel offered his. Andrael didn’t argue. She crawled into the bedroll and was asleep almost instantly.
“I’ll take first watch,” said Terciel. Abhorsen nodded. Then, after staring at him seriously for several seconds, she removed her bell bandolier and handed it to him.
“As long as you’re guarding us,” she said, “You might as well have something better than your pipes.”
“A-are you sure?” he stammered, taking the bells gingerly, as if they might spring from their fastenings and ring out at any moment.
“You have more than enough training to use them,” Abhorsen said, “And it’s time you got used to wearing them. You’ll be Abhorsen one day, after all.”
“Not for a long time,” said Terciel, but he draped the bandolier over his shoulder anyway. Abhorsen was not a lenient master, and loaning him her bells was the highest of compliments. She went to sleep without a word, but Terciel saw the way she clutched her sword beneath her blankets, as if she might strike with it at any moment.
Hours later, after the moon had risen high to glow through the thin layer of clouds, Terciel was beginning to nod off when something tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and almost cried out, but it was only Andrael. As spent as she had been after the fight with the revenant, she was now fully awake and focused.
“Sorry I scared you,” she said.
“I should have been paying attention,” Terciel admitted. He was glad Abhorsen hadn’t seen how close he had been to falling asleep. Especially after she had entrusted him with the bells.
“I…” Andrael began, blushing, “I wanted to apologize for the trouble I caused today. I shouldn’t have wandered off.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.
Andrael bit her lip. “Maybe, but I still feel pretty useless,” she said, “If you hadn’t come, I don’t know how long I could have…”
“You were holding your own,” said Terciel, “And don’t forget, you saved me too.”
“Well, I can’t always count on a convenient rock to be lying nearby,” she said, some of the humor coming back to her voice, “And besides, I got really lucky. I’d like something more reliable. Like those Charter-blades you summoned. Could you teach me those?”
Terciel hesitated. He had never been put in the position of teacher before. He certainly knew the theory well enough, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to explain it to Andrael. “Are you a Charter Mage at all?” he asked.
“No,” she said unapologetically, “I‘m baptized, so I have the mark, but I was never trained as a mage. Even if I had been, no one would have taught me combat magic. But I’ll work so hard to learn it! Oh, Terciel, please say you’ll teach me!”
From the determination in her eyes, Terciel believed that she would be a good pupil. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll explain on the road tomorrow, and we’ll practice when we next make camp. But get some sleep for now, okay?”
Terciel’s hand was resting on the ground. Andrael put her hand over his and pressed it, beaming her gratitude. It may have been the remaining adrenaline from the scare she had given him earlier, but he though he felt his skin grow warmer. “I won’t let you down!” she said before scampering back to her bed.
Some time later, Abhorsen stirred and joined Terciel at the edge of camp. She held out her hand, and Terciel handed her back the bell bandolier before taking his turn to sleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 5 is here: blackat16.livejournal.com/1491.html