Bladewarriors Book 1: Refresh
Dark Cloud

"I don't understand why we can't sleep longer!" Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Ivy whined, moaning as she dragged her feet, slouching forward as she gathered up the few items she had with her.

"If we leave now, we should be able to make it to Nehir before sundown." Flare answered, sounding far too chipper and energetic for as early in the morning as it was. "Otherwise we'll have to camp another night."

Ivy groaned again, detesting the thought of sharing another cramped night in that tiny tent. She was really starting to grow tired of this whole 'journey to save the world' thing. It was pretty inconvenient.

"But you made me stay up late training!" Ivy complained, sighing as she picked up her sword, attaching the blade to her left hip.

"Don't blame me because you're a slow learner." The flame-haired teen replied, tapping his foot as he and the others waited at the door for her.

Ivy groaned to herself, sliding her feet across the ground as she moved to join her companions. She could certainly have done without the late night fencing session had she known she would be forced to wake with the sun – or she assumed the sun was up. It was hard to tell through the endless expanse of dark, foreboding gloom that clung constantly to the sky. She was getting fairly tired of seeing that, too. A week of rain was more than enough. It boggled the girl's mind how the whole realm wasn't simply a giant pool of water, already – or at least a mushy bog of mud and quicksand.

"Don't be so hard on her." Frost spoke up on her behalf, yawning as well as he stared sleepily at the fiery youth. "It has to be hard learning anything when you've got algae festering inside your head."

"I'm not even sure I understand that insult." Ivy sighed, lacking the energy to glare at the fool as she closed the door to their room behind her.

"I'm not even sure I understand your face." Frost replied, turning to follow behind Flare and Myst as they made their way toward the lobby of the inn.

"That doesn't even make sense." Ivy countered, wondering why she was even bothering to argue with the idiot so early in the morning.

"'Your face' always makes sense." Frost argued, shaking his head meekly.

"That's stupid." Ivy stated, summoning up enough energy to glare at the fool for a brief moment.

"So's your face!" Frost stated listlessly, yawning wide as their group stepped into the lobby.

Ivy let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head as Frost taught her once again that there was no point in arguing with a fool. She closed her eyes, letting out a small yawn, and promptly bumped into something. Stumbling back, Ivy stared up at Flare's back as he stood in front of her.

"Why'd you stop?" She moaned, annoyed by the sudden action.

"We apologize for the inconvenience," A voice began, causing Ivy's ears to twitch. She tilted her head to the side a bit, staring past the redhead in front of her at the pair that was blocking their exit.

"But we must insist you return to your rooms for the time being." The woman of the pair finished as both of them bowed down.

Ivy blinked, staring at the couple, vaguely recalling their faces as the stood erect again the next moment. The two people were the owners of the small roadhouse they were staying at. They were both getting on in age – the man had a stylish salt and pepper look to his short hair, and the woman's hair seemed to have lost all color. Despite that, they both had retained fairly youthful faces – a fact the two of them had attributed to their loving relationship the night before when Ivy and the others had first arrived. At the time, the two had been all grins, and happy to help them in any way possible. Now, those exuberant faces had vanished, and taken the buoyant appearance with them. The too looked suddenly very old, and very uneasy.

"Is there a problem?" Myst asked, confused by the couple's move to delay their departure. "We paid in advance, didn't we? Was it not enough?"

"There was no problem with your payment." The elder man replied, shaking his head – a sobering frown molding his face.

"We must simply ask you to delay your departure." The woman added, wringing her hands nervously in front of her, failing to actually meet their gaze.

"I don't understand." Flare responded, his confusion displayed prominently across his brow.

"I do!" Frost shouted, suddenly a little more energetic. "We get to sleep in! Hurrah!"

"No." Myst spoke, shattering the fool's joy. "We need to leave now."

"I'm afraid we cannot allow you to do that." The man spoke again, his tone forceful – almost demanding. "Please, return to your room for now."

"What's all of this about?" Ivy questioned, turning to stare at the elderly woman as she still continued to look them in the eyes.

"We cannot discuss it. It won't be long" The male innkeeper turned his eyes away, growing noticeably anxious. "Please… just go back to your room until he gets here."

"He?" Flare asked, finally starting to get to the root of the matter. The innkeeper became flustered, opening his mouth to respond, but having nothing come out. The man turned away again, looking to his wife as she still restlessly wrung her hands together, staring at the floor.

"Who's 'he'?" Flare questioned, pressing the matter further.

"We dare not speak of him…" the woman replied, voice quivering as she did. "Just go back to your room!"

"If you can't give us a good reason why we have to stay, then—"

"The Black Priest." Myst spoke up, cutting Flare off mid-sentence. As she did, the elderly couple both gasped, lifting their eyes to look at the blue haired nymph before quickly turning away. The girl frowned, wishing she hadn't been right.

"The Black Priest?" Frost asked, unsure how the mysterious figure fit into everything. "Who the heck is that?"

"I am."

Everyone in the lobby of the inn spun to face the door as the voice echoed out, almost as if the gruff, raspy sounding statement was forcing them too. A crack of thunder lit up the outside world as the doors swung up, illuminating the dominating figure of a burly, dark-haired man from behind, sending a shiver down Ivy's spine as she stared at the form. The strange man's chin was covered in an obvious layer of dark stubble, and his face framed a pair of cold, dark blue eyes. A mess of short, dark blue hair stood atop the man's head.

The man stepped into the room, causing the elderly couple to instantly back away, moving almost all the way behind Flare and the others as the stared fearfully at the visage of this man. He was clad shoulder to toe in black, leather armor, with a surprisingly large arsenal of weapons strapped against his back, arms, and waist.

"You are Myst, Flare, Ivy, and Frost, correct?" The man questioned, glancing at each of the in turn as he said their names.

"We are." Flare answered, his face stern as he stared at this man. The warning the White Priest had given him repeated itself in the boy's head:

"It is the third of us – The Black Priest – that you must avoid. Should he meet any of you… he will strike you down."

"I will assume that the four of you are intelligent enough to know why I am here." The man stated calmly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Frost shook his head, waving a hand in front of him as he spoke, "I think you're overestimating my abilities, there, buddy. I'm not even sure who the hell you are."

"The Black Priest." Myst responded, clenching her fists as she stared across the room at the man, a rush of terror flowing through her at the sight of him. "If The White Priest is the law maker, and the Blue Priest is the herald, then the Black Priest is the enforcer. He upholds the law and the words of The Serpent, dispensing justice to those who should forsake it."

"And he's interested in us… why?" Ivy asked, knowing full well she wasn't going to like the answer as the piercing gaze of the grizzled judge weighed down upon her.

"You have broken Ilaydya's Serpent's edict." The man's raspy voiced commanded their attention once more. "You have gone against the commands of a Creature of the Gods, and have put the entire realm at risk of receiving her wrath."

"What edict is that?" Flare steeled his gaze, his tone firm and dominant, seeming to demand nearly as much attention as that of the Black Priest.

"The Serpent demanded the life of that girl." The grizzled warrior lifted a hand, pointing a single finger at the blue-haired girl in their midst. "By your actions, you have denied The Serpent's request."

"We also saved an entire city!" Ivy declared defensively. A single glance from the man's rigid eyes was enough to extinguish the girl's proud tone, though.

"What you did," the armed judge responded scornfully, narrowing his already condemning gaze, "was engage The Sentry in direct combat. A second, punishable offense."

"I think I can clear this up."

Frost stepped forward, swinging his arm up to gently place the white, droplet shaped hat atop his head. With a grin, and a noticeable increase in energy, the fool approached the grizzled stranger.

"As you can see by my fancy hat," Frost lifted both arms, pointing proudly to the strange hat he had just placed atop his head, "I am a comrade of yours – a fellow Priest! As The White Priest, I'm sure we can come to some mutual understanding about these matters that will allow us to proceed, so I might continue my… priestly duties."

The Black Priest curled his fingers into a fist, baring his teeth at the oaf that stood before him. Never so quickly had someone caused anger to rise up in him – never before had he met a man capable of insulting him as blatantly – even grinning as he did it. The judge reached out, wrapping his hands around the clod's throat before swinging the fool against the nearby wall, pressing him tightly against his surface.

"I'll have your head for this lack of respect!" The judge seethed, his free hand moving to one of the many bladed instruments slung across his back. As his fingers found one of his lethal tools, though, he felt someone reach out and take hold of his limb. Spinning his head, he found the fiery haired youth standing surprisingly close, gripping down around his wrist.

"You'll have to forgive Frost," the boy stated coolly, remaining uncommonly calm, "he's a bit of an idiot."

"I disagree." The white-haired fool choked out, hands gripping at the fingers around his throat.

"If you'd be willing to discuss this—"

"There is nothing to discuss." The Black Priest tried to shake away the teen's grip, but Flare held firm, refusing to let go. "My decision has already been made."

"With all due respect…" Ivy spoke up timidly, nearly shying away as the judge turned his demeaning glare upon her again. "I don't think you have the full story…"

"Your tales are irrelevant." The Black Priest replied, calming a moment as he realized the redhead would not be relinquishing him any time soon. "My judgments are final."

"And what is your judgment?"

The grizzled priest turned his eyes to the blue-haired girl – the only member of this group from his realm.

"What sentence have you decreed?" Myst asked the question nervously, fearing she might already know the answer.

"The only one appropriate for sinners such as yourselves…" The gnarled warrior turned his eyes back to the cretin he held. "For your misdeeds, the lot of you face death at my hands."

"What!" Ivy shouted, alarmed as she stepped back.

"You can't be serious!" Flare exclaimed, staring at the man incredulously.

"As The White Priest, I decree that killing us is against the law!" Frost shouted out through his choked voice, forcing a playful grin as the Black Priest narrowed his gaze.

"You'll be first!"

The hardened warrior leaned forward, lifting his backmost leg from the ground, raising it to deliver a deft kick straight into the redhead's stomach. The fiery youth coughed, pushed back by the blow, and finally released his grip upon the dark priest. Hand free, the Black Priest ripped his lethal instrument from its sheath, swinging it up and around before brining it back down toward the white-haired oaf's neck.

Frost grimaced, seeing the oncoming attack, and reacted as quickly as he could. The boy released the grip he had on the fingers around his throat, stretching his arm across to wrap his mitts around the handle of his own sharpened weapon. The arctic warrior tilted himself to the side as he slid the sword from its home on his back, stretching it out just far enough to catch the edge of his attacker's blade. A sharp clang rang out through the roadhouse lobby, drawing focus to the clashing weapons.

The Black Priest snarled, narrowing his eyes further at the impetuous child in his grasp. The boy was quick – he would have to give him that – but quick wasn't always enough. The hardened priest scrapped the boy along the wall until the white-haired clod was positioned in front of the doors to the inn. Target in place, the priest released his grip on the boys throat as he spun around, delivering another powerful kick. Frost hacked as the blow struck his stomach, lifting his body from the ground as he flew through the doorway. Before he even realized he had left the tiny motel, the arctic warrior crashed to the ground outside, water splashing up around him as rain continued to fall.

"Make peace with whatever outlandish deity it may be that you worship," The Black Priest marched from the lobby, glaring down at the boy on the ground as he reached back and armed himself with another curved blade, "because you'll be seeing them, very soon."

The grizzled warrior leapt forward, raising both blades above him as he began to plummet down at the white-haired teen. Rather than trying to block the aerial assault, Frost gathered himself and rolled to the side, barely dodging the priest's twin blades as they sliced into the ground. The arctic warrior pushed to his feet, gathering some distance between himself and his attacker as the Black Priest slowly rose to his feet once more.

"Stop this!"

Flare shouted out as he burst from inside the inn, Ivy and Myst right behind him as they rushed out onto the deck.

"If you'd just listen to what we have to say—"

"I told you, your stories are irrelevant!" The Black Priest shouted back, eyes still focused on Frost – burning with anger as he stared at the droplet shaped hat the fool was still wearing.

"Flare, he won't stop." Myst spoke up, moving to hold Flare in place as he tried to rush forward. "The Black Priest never repeals a decision – his judgment is always final."

"So what, then!" Flare yelled, turning a frustrated glare to the girl beside him.

"I'll kick his ass!" Frost shouted back, a wide grin covering the fool's face as he began to stretch. "If this asshole wants a fight, I'll give him one."

"But Frost—"

"Seriously, Flare." Frost shouted out again, cutting his redheaded companion off. "Look at this guy – look in his eyes – and you tell me words alone are enough to deal with him."

Flare closed his mouth, turning to stare at the battered and hardened visage of The Black Priest, staring at the man's determined gaze. The pupils were filled with a stubbornness and resolve that the redhead hadn't seen many times in the past. He couldn't deny what he saw there, but he wasn't sure he was ready to take up arms against his fellow man, either.

"Frost, I—"

"Just leave this to me." The Arctic Bladesmen shouted out, interrupting Flare once more. "You guys just stand over there and watch how the master does things!"

"Ha!" The Black Priest bellowed out a laugh, sneering at the impudence of the child before him. "You think you can take me alone?"

"Come on!" Frost shouted, returning the confident grin. "You're one weak old man versus the Mystic Bladesmen—No. Versus the Bladewarrior of Ice! What could you possibly do?"

"I think you overestimate your abilities, child." The priest replied, steeling his gaze. "Your sword alone will not determine this battle."

"I beg to differ!" The white-haired fool yelled back, grin widening. "Or didn't you hear? I single-handedly beat back The Sentry!"

"Frost!" Myst shouted out the idiot's name, trying to warn him, but the fool simply waved her protest away without even glancing in her direction.

"Single-handedly?" The Black Priest inquired, cocking an eyebrow at the information. "I had heard it was a group effort."

"No, no, no." Frost shook his head, sighing. "Sure, they all ran around like an arctic hen with its head chopped off, which certainly distracted the Sentry. But it was my awesome power and meticulous stratagem that actually won the day!"

"Is that true?" The grizzled priest stole a glance to his side, eyeing the group of teens that were this oaf's companion.

"Sure is!" Frost insisted, answering before any of his companions had a chance to disagree.

"Then it seems you may have just saved the lives of a couple of your friends." The Black Priest answered, turning his eyes back to the white-haired child. "If they had no involvement, then your death alone with suffice."

"Frost, what are you doing!" Ivy shouted out suddenly, taking a quick step forward. "I know I might tell you to go die all the time, but I'd actually rather you not get yourself killed!"

"It's fine!" Frost bellowed back, waving away the tomboy's concerns as he hefted his sword. "This priest doesn't have any chance against me anyhow."

The Black Priest laughed, gripping down on the blades in his hand as he smirked. The outlander had no idea what he was up against. Mystic Blade or not, the boy was underestimating him – a mistake he would not live long enough to regret.

Flare tightened his fist, eyes flicking between his foolish companion and the grizzled warrior now looking to strike the boy down. He greatly doubted that intervening would serve any purposes as he watched the locked and determined gazes the two were sharing, but the redhead was made to wonder why Frost seemed so insistent on this fight. Battling the Black Priest wasn't going to help their cause any – it served more to damage their reputation in the realm than anything else – yet the boy seemed dead-set on seeing it through to the end. The flame headed teen could understand the priest's motives in this battle, though he disagreed with his decision. But trying to figure out why Frost was so determined to fight was a daunting task. Then again, Flare sometimes had trouble figuring out why the fool did a lot of the crazy things he did.

"Myst…" Flare kept his voice low as he watched the two warriors stare each other down, "tell me something."

The redhead turned his eyes away from a moment, turning to glance at the blue-haired mage as she anxiously watched the scene frozen in front of them as well.

"You know more about this Black Priest than any of us." Flare continued. "What are Frost's chances here?"

Myst frowned, averting her gaze from the soon-to-expire stare down as she glanced toward the redhead.

"I'm… not sure." Myst answered honestly, shaking her head, sending a wave down her hair as she did. "I only know stories about The Black Priest. Very few people ever actually see him. And it's said all that face him in battle have fallen at his feet within seconds."

"Yeah, but… Frost has the Arctic Blade." Ivy countered, intruding into the debate. "That counts for something, right?"

"I don't know." Myst replied truthfully as she shook her head once more. "Like I said, I've only heard stories… but if even half of them are true, Frost could be in trouble."

"What kind of stories?" The tomboy asked reluctantly, dreading the reply as she turned to stare at the dark warrior standing in the rain.

"Some say he's actually a beast in disguise, wearing the face of a human." Myst replied, turning to look at the mysterious man as well. "Others say he has the power to turn the rain into daggers. Still others say the weapons he carries can cleave through bone as if it were air. Some stories even peg him as being immortal – never aging, and never falling. Not to mention the myths and tales about his speed and strength."

"Yeah, but… those are just stories, right?" Ivy questioned, frowning as she looked at the strange priest.

"For Frost's sake," Flare spoke up, already preparing himself to intrude on the battle if the need should rise, "let's hope so."

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.