Chapter 8

"She's too weak to go outside."

"She will not live past eight."

"We can save the eye, but not its sight."

"We don't need those who cannot see past their own weaknesses!"

"You are not fit for duty!"

"She is too young."

When Rhode was born – in the frozen north, in a small cottage on the outskirts of a tiny, insignificant village – she was nearly two months too early, and thus she was very small, fragile and weak. Her parents – who were simple farmers – loved her dearly, and even though raising a daughter whose body was not made to survive in the frigid north, they did their best to keep her as safe and healthy as possible. This was their most loving mistake.

"She's too weak to go outside." Those were the words that changed Rhodes life forever. She had at the age of five looked out the window and seen several other children play in the soft, newly fallen snow. They would squeeze the snow into little, white balls and throw at each, and lie down in the snow and wave their arms and legs, making imprints. To Rhode, who had never been outside during winter and rarely in summer, this looked like the most fun in the world and she wanted to be a part of it. So, she put on some thick clothes she found in her parents closet – which she knew she needed, because the other children were wearing them – and sneaked outside to join in on the fun.

Dressed in clothes many sizes too big for her, Rhode ran out into the snowy landscape, squealing with joy, amazement and excitement as tiny, cold snowflakes landed on her uncovered face. The other children, who had all heard about a strange little girl who lived outside of the village, were taken aback by this loud and energetic, and somewhat strangely dressed little ball of joy that came running their way. But when she flashed them a wide, beautiful smile and asked if she could play with them, they let her join without question. They played together for what seemed like hours and for the first time in her life Rhode knew friendship and the happiness that came with it.

However, after some time, her father came running, screaming frantically and grabbed and rushed her back inside the house. He sat her down and reprimanded her for leaving the house alone and for such a long time, and in the middle of winter. In the middle of the scolding, Rhode's head began to feel heavy and her vision faded. She didn't even feel herself hitting the floor.

"She's too weak to go outside." Those words were the first thing she heard when she woke up the next day. They were spoken by her mother, and she was addressing someone at the door. From her place on the bed, Rhode could just barely see who it was her mother was talking to; it was the children from the day before. Her friends had come to see if she was allowed to come out and play. But her mother turned them away, telling them that she was "too weak". Rhode cried that night, and she never met her friends again.

"She will not live past eight." The voice of the local priest was hushed while he spoke to the crying mother and pale father, trying not to wake the sickly Rhode from her feverish slumber. As he walked past the despairing couple, he offered them an apologetic look and then went on his way, leaving them to let it sink in. None of them were aware that Rhode was in fact awake and had heard every word. Strangely, she didn't feel scared or shocked or even sad. She met the news of her impending death with a blank look. And why wouldn't she? Because her parents sheltered her from the real world, Rhode had never known death and so the concept of an end to her life went straight over her head.

For months after the priest had delivered the sad news, Rhode's parents looked for a way – any way – to save her life, but to no avail. No potions master, no wizard, no physician could help her. And so, after having come up empty-handed, her parents accepted the inevitable and became even more overprotective. On good days when Rhode felt fine, she was allowed to walk around the small house, and on bad days, when she felt sick, she was not allowed to leave her bed. She grew frustrated with her situation and her parents coddling, and so she decided to sneak outside once again.

It was in the middle of the night and the sky was lit up by thousands upon thousands of stars. The cool summer-breeze made her hair flow as she ran barefoot across the fields, loving the feel of wet grass against her skin. Not able to contain her joy, she let out a loud, exuberant squeal into the night and ran as fast as her little legs would allow her.

She soon neared the edge of the forest, farther away from the house than she had ever been before, and stared into the darkness between the huge trees. Like any child, she was wary of the dark, but her natural curiosity won over against any trepidation she might have felt and she slowly made her way towards the forest.

Suddenly, she heard a loud, guttural roar coming from the darkness between the trees, and soon a man came running out, dressed in armor and with a sword in one hand and a wooden shield in the other. As the man ran straight towards Rhode, loud cracks and thumps echoed through the night.

Rhode shrieked when a couple of trees were sent flying as a giant, ugly creature came charging out of the forest. The creature was fat, dark and was wielding a wooden club the size of a small tree, which it was swinging wildly around itself as it let out an angry roar. She would later learn that it was in fact a troll, but for a small child who had never seen anything like it before, it seemed like all of her nightmares combined. Fear took hold of her and she was unable to move.

The man, having seen Rhode freeze up, threw away his shield and scooped her up off the ground without stopping. After a few yards, he whirled around, stabbed his sword into the ground and held out his open hand towards the fast approaching monster, and suddenly a ball of fire flew from his hand and hit the troll right in the face.

As the troll let out a pained roar and began stumbling about while holding its face, the man put Rhode back down on the ground and spoke to her. But his words didn't register, as the little girl stared horrified at the toad-like creature whose tortured cries cut through the air.

A sting of pain on her left cheek brought Rhode out of her fear-induced trance and she stared into the silver eyes of her rescuer. He was shaking her shoulders and ordering her to run as fast as she could and get help. With a frightened nod of her head, she turned around and started racing back towards her house, stealing glances over her shoulder every so often.

When she reached her home, her parents were already out of bed, having been awoken by the commotion caused by the rampaging troll. They immediately started to reprimand her for going outside, but were cut off by her frantic retelling of what had happened. Her father grabbed his bow and arrows and hurried out into the fields to aid the man who had saved his daughter. It wasn't long until the night grew silent, and her father came back through the door, carrying a blood-drenched man on his back; Rhode's savior.

Rhode and her parents took care of the man, now known as Bryce, and made sure to nurture him back to health, having almost been crushed to death by the troll. They learned that Bryce was in fact a Dragon Slayer and that he was on his way back to the Academy, after a mission that had gone bad and he'd lost his whole squad. He spent a lot of time with Rhode, and told her many stories about his adventures, and learned of Rhode's illness. So, when he was finally healed, he offered Rhode and her parents a gift; the gift of life.

Bryce offered to bring Rhode with him to the Academy, so that she could be cured. However, this cure came at a price, and that price was Rhode herself. The Slayers had amazingly powerful magic at their disposal and knowledge far beyond that of local physicians, but to cure a child with a condition such as Rhode's would take time and effort they would only offer one of their own. So, in order to save her life, she had to become one of the Slayers.

After much heartache, tears and even a tantrum from Rhode, her parents agreed to Bryce's proposal and bid their daughter farewell. The last time Rhode saw her parents, they were waving goodbye, smiling, but with tears running down their cheeks.

"We can save the eye, but not its sight."

Rhode had once again found herself eavesdropping on a conversation about her health, though this time, lying on a cot while covered in bandages, the reality of it all came crashing down on her; she'd be forever blind in her left eye…

She had been at the Academy for several years and was a great disciple, earning praise from trainers and fellow students alike. Her fragile health had been fixed and though she had spent many nights crying herself to sleep when she first came to the Academy, she'd found a new home within its walls and a new family amongst its inhabitants.

Rhode was discovered to have an affinity towards swordplay and it didn't take long until she was being compared to the legendary warriors of the past. Her lightning-fast reflexes, natural-born flexibility and the sheer power of will that she put behind every single sword stroke made even the Academy's trainers wary of dueling with her; Divine forbid that a young disciple would actually leave a mark on one of them! Rhode felt proud as her reputation grew, and with that pride came her fall.

Rhode and about a dozen other disciples – lead by their instructor Kenneth – had been tasked with clearing out a tribe of goblins whom had taken up residence near a small, rural village, and had become a great nuisance to the villagers whose livestock had become the main target of the tribe's many incursions. Seeing as hunting goblins was considered light training and easy money to the soon-to-be Slayers, Kenneth decided to use this mission as a training exercise in strategy and tactics.

The basic strategy to fighting goblins was to eliminate any spellcasters first, preferably with ranged weapons, and then simply start picking off the rest of them one by one. Because of their low intellect, inability to make quick decisions and skittish nature, goblins are prone to panic, which in turn makes complex strategies unnecessary. However, Kenneth wanted to try something different. Instead of killing the shamans first and the warriors second; the mages would keep the shamans occupied and negate any spells they might use, while half of the disciples would stand back and use their bows to take out any goblins on the sides, while the rest of them would charge straight into the heart of the tribe. And when all of the warriors were dead, they would turn their collective attention towards the spellcasters, and take them down using only swords and the like.

Some of the disciples recognized this strategy as a simplified version of how to take down a Dragon; negate any magic or fire, use bows to take out the wings, and then close in for the kill. Of course, there was a lot more to it than that, but it was the basic idea, and Rhode felt herself getting excited at the thought of fighting a Dragon – even if it was just a mock Dragon in the shape of a few whimpering goblins.

They found the tribe's camp by a river in the woods and got close without being seen. Kenneth ordered everyone to get into position. Their three mages located their targets – the shamans, one for each – and the archers spread out to the sides. Rhode and the rest of the disciples got their weapons ready and waited for Kenneth to order the attack. The excitement was palpable and a smile spread across Rhode's face as she imagined what it would be like to fight an actual Dragon. She could imagine closing in on the grounded beast, dodging its flames and wings, and then-

"Attack!" roared Kenneth as they all sprung into action. The shamans were the first to react and tried to throw fireballs at the attackers, but the disciple mages threw their own fireballs at theirs making them blow up in the middle of the camp, setting fire to some of the huts. The archers began firing at some of the goblins who tried to escape or attack the mages, while Kenneth ordered Rhode and the others to charge.

Rhode was the first one out of hiding and ran straight into the goblin camp, greatsword in hand and smile on her face. She didn't see her fellow disciples, and barely took note of the panicking goblins; her eyes were set on the shamans, or rather her Dragon, her prize. She'd let the others take care of the warriors; she wanted the three shamans, who were trying, and failing, to aid their tribesmen with magic. As she started running towards them, she was vaguely aware of Kenneth's voice shouting her name, but she was too lost in her quest for glory.

She came in close to one of the shamans and leaped off her feet, sword raised high above her head and roaring in premature triumph. The shaman saw her coming, however, and threw a fireball at her, which was intercepted by another fireball, conjured by one of the disciples, who was too late in realizing his mistake.

The two spells created an explosion between Rhode and her intended target, and blew both of them away. Rhode had dropped her sword and managed to hold up her arms to cover her face from the explosion. She landed with a loud thud! and rolled around a few times before coming to a stop. With a groan she tried to get up, but she couldn't find the strength to do so. Instead, she rolled around so that she was lying on her back and slowly opened her eyes. Her entire body was aching and her ears were ringing. Around her the battle was still going on, but she was sure it would be over soon. Somehow, lying there, staring at the sky while listening to the ringing in her ears fading, Rhode felt calm and almost serene. Must be head trauma.

The ringing faded away and was replaced by the sound of battle, and footsteps. Rhode turned her head towards the sound of feet and fear took hold of her. It was not one of her fellows coming to check if she was all right; it was one of the goblins. Its dark skin was covered in dirt and blood, and it bore many scars, new and old. Its glowing, orange eye was focused on Rhode, as it slowly but deliberately got closer, while carrying a crude, heavy-looking sword in its hands.

Rhode panicked and tried to get up from ground, but her body failed her once again, and the most she could do was clumsily crawl away. She opened her mouth to call out for help, but all that came out was low, croaking sound. The goblin was getting closer, and it was making a sound akin to growling. It raised its sword and swung at her.

She managed to roll out of the way, making the goblin hit the ground instead. So it swung again, and this time made contact with Rhode's arm. The cut wasn't deep, but it still made Rhode let out a hoarse shriek as she tried to roll further away. The goblin, Rhode realized, was hurt pretty badly as well, which explained why it was having troubles finishing her off, only managing to nick her limbs as she rolled out of the way. After a while, Rhode's body was beginning to feel even heavier due to the amount of blood she'd lost. She found herself with her back pressed up against one of the burning huts, pushing herself up off the ground with her right elbow. There was no fight left in her, and when the goblin raised its sword above its head, all she could do was hold up her trembling left arm to protect herself from the blow.

The goblin's sword came down hard on her forearm and cut into it deeply, but didn't sever it. The weight of the blade and the power of the blow were too much for Rhode's already weak arm, however, and so it lost all of its strength immediately, allowing the blade to reach her face.

As the blade slashed through her left eyebrow, eye and cheek, it nicked Rhode's blue dragon tattoo, which she had gotten only a week ago. For a split second, she regretted paying for it only to have it being ruined by a goblin. Then the pain came.

It was beyond anything she'd ever experienced; it spread throughout her body, piercing her flesh and bones, and then burning her up from within. Her agony made time slow down and kept her in excruciating limbo, begging to any deity that might hear her to let it end. And after an eternity of waiting, the warm, merciful embrace of darkness finally took her away.

When she woke up, she was covered in bandages while lying on a cot in the healer's wing at the Academy. It was sparsely lit up by candles, and she noticed that her left side was dark; no shadows or shapes, just darkness. Then she remembered the battle, and the goblins, and the pain that had ripped through her as she tried to protect herself from the goblin's blade. She raised her right hand to her face and felt the bandage that covered the left side of her face. Fear filled her once more and she tried to sit up, only to hiss in pain and give up. She looked around and saw Commander Bryce talking to the healer, a plain man with pale complexion and dressed in simple, brown robes. The Commander's face was grim. Rhode opened her mouth to call out to them, but she stopped herself when the healer spoke.

"We can save the eye, but not its sight." His words were spoken so quietly that Rhode almost hadn't heard him. So softly were the words, yet so crushing their impact. She let it sink in, and waited for the two men to leave the room.

"We can save the eye, but not its sight."

Rhode had once again found herself eavesdropping on a conversation about her health, though this time, lying on a cot while covered in bandages, the reality of it all came crashing down on her; she'd be forever blind in her left eye…

The door closed behind the Commander and the healer, and for the first time since she was a little girl, Rhode cried.

"We don't need those who cannot see past their own weaknesses!" had Kenneth shouted out to the group of disciples surrounding the training grounds, all staring at the former star of the Academy, Rhode, while she tried to get up from having been beaten to the ground by another disciple. Those words still echoed inside her head as she lay awake in the dormitory at the Academy, and the memory of Kenneth's unsympathetic glare and her fellow disciples unbelieving and pitying stares still made her face burn with anger and embarrassment.

Ever since the attack on the goblin tribe several weeks ago, people had started to treat her differently; some pitied her, others looked down on her. There were no more whispers of admiration, only gossip about her mistakes, about her downfall. Rhode had become an example of what happened when you ignored orders and let arrogance and pride take precedence. Not only had she been unable to slay a single goblin; she had also been beaten and forever scarred – by a goblin!

But scornful stares and cruel gossip was still better than the pity she received by some of her peers. They would act as if her entire life was over because of her injuries, and some would even treat her as if she were made out of glass during sparring. There was even a disciple who refused to duel her because he thought it would be "unfair to fight a half-blind girl". The anger she felt after hearing those words were beyond anything she'd felt before, and she had reacted by attacking him from behind. But even though she'd resorted to dirty tricks, she was defeated quite easily by the rude bastard.

Rhode touched the bandages covering her wounded eye and shuddered. She didn't know what her face looked like underneath the bandages, but she was sure it was deformed and hideous. She would always be reminded of her mistakes by the lack of sight in her left eye; she didn't need her scarred face to serve as a reminder to others as well.

She bit her tongue to get the angry growl that was bubbling in her throat at bay, not wanting to wake anyone. Not because she cared about their sleep, but because the other disciples would probably think she was having another nightmare and then show her even more pity the following morning. One early morning, just a few days after she had left the infirmary, she had woken up screaming, drenched in sweat and her left eye burning. Almost the entire Academy had heard her, yet no one complained about their interrupted slumber. No, they all ignored it and avoided talking to Rhode, but the worst part was during breakfast, when a young man actually gave her a small, sympathetic smile across the breakfast table, and she hated it. She hated it so badly!

Rhode hadn't been weak for a long time, not since she was a little girl living with her parents. That weakness was removed, not only by magical cures and medicine, but also by her own hard work and dedication. She swore to herself that she would never be weak again and that she would make her parents, Commander Bryce and the Academy proud of her. Every day would be another step further away from her young, weak self… And then had she made a mistake, and suddenly she was back to square one, where she was weak and helpless. A little girl crying for help as others fought, a burden.

"We don't need those who cannot see past their own weaknesses!"

Kenneth's words and the memory of his glare made anger erupt within Rhode, and her fists clenched so hard that her nails drew blood from her palms. How dared he say that to her! Just because she was injured didn't mean she was useless! I'll wipe that smug look of his—!

Then it dawned on her; Kenneth had been her trainer for years, and he had never been cruel or told a student to just give up. He could be harsh, sure, but there was always a reason for it. And his treatment of her that day in the training grounds was no different to any other time he would reprimand a disciple.

A challenge. That's what it was. A challenge to Rhode to get back up again and stop feeling sorry for herself, and to stop blaming others for her inability to fight like she used to. She had made a mistake and now she was paying the price, it didn't mean she had to give up.

Rhode relaxed her body and let her anger be replaced by stubborn determination as she renewed her promise to herself; she would never be weak again. And every day from now on would be dedicated to taking another step away from her weak, former self.

Giving up on sleep, Rhode left her bed and made her way out to the training grounds. She picked up one of the many training swords and positioned herself in front of a training dummy. With a deep breath, she raised the wooden sword as she got into the first of the many basic stances of swordplay, a smile forming on her face.

Challenge accepted.

"You are not fit for duty!" Commander Bryce roared as he slammed both of his hands down on the table, making everyone in the Great Hall stop what they were doing and turn their attention towards the head table where the officers sat. Bryce was looming over Rhode as she stood before him, staring defiantly into the Commander's furious glare. She didn't even blink.

"My eye has been healed, as has my body," Rhode said calmly, her gaze not wavering. "I have trained hard and once again stand at the top of the class." She turned towards Kenneth who sat further down the table. "Would you not agree, sir?"

Kenneth took a moment to take in the scene before him. Commander Bryce — a strong, wise, and usually collected man — looked like he was about to explode with anger while trying to stare down a disciple in her late teens, who in turn looked so calm that one could think that she hadn't noticed the old man's outburst nor his intense glare. Kenneth studied Rhode's face for awhile, before finally nodding in agreement. "Disciple Rhode is ready active duty, Commander," he said with a clear and confident voice. He then returned to his meal, without a second look at the arguing pair.

Silence filled the Great Hall once again, no one dared to move as the Commander stared at the trainer with a mix of disbelief and anger. It seemed like hours until he finally released a frustrated growl that probably could've been heard throughout the Academy and sat down heavily in his chair, grabbed his goblet and took a big swig of wine before slamming it down hard on the table. "Fine!" he spat and filled his goblet again. "Disciple Rhode is reinstated for active duty! Go get the rest of your face chopped off, for all I care!"

He drained the goblet of wine, threw it on the stone floor, then stood up and stormed out of the Hall. When he was out of sight, all eyes turned to Rhode who was still standing in front of the head table, staring at the floor with a small smile on her face. It would not come off for a long time.

"She is too young."

Rhode had once again found herself eavesdropping on a conversation about her, though not about her health this time; unless her being too young to be granted the rank of Commander could be seen as a health issue. She couldn't really help listening in; the meeting held by the senior officers was behind a rather thin wooden door, next to which Rhode had been told to sit and wait. Glancing at the door, she didn't feel nervous, which was strange considering they were discussing her future just a few feet away. Her dream as a child had been to become strong, and as she grew older, her dreams grew bigger. She wanted to help people, like Commander Bryce had helped her. She wanted to protect those who could not protect themselves and punish those who would bring harm unto others. Beast, monster or bandit, it did not matter; they would all face her judgment and taste her blade.

But as she grew, so did the dreams, and now she wanted something more than to help others or fight monsters; she wanted to lead. She had lost count of how many times her commanding officer had made her roll her eyes at their simplistic strategies, thoughtless tactics or damning decisions that would only put Rhode and the others at unnecessary risk.

Rhode didn't believe that she was smarter than everyone else, but so far no one had proven her otherwise, so when their commanding officer had gotten himself killed during a mission, she didn't hesitate taking charge of the group. Under her leadership, the Slayers had fought their way through what seemed like hordes of undead and completed the mission.

When they returned from the mission only two out of ten Slayers had fallen, including the officer. The commander in charge of the region had been impressed and sent word of Rhode's against-all-odds success to the other commanders at the Academy. A few weeks later, she was called to their chambers and told that they were considering promoting her to the rank of Commander.

"She is too young."

Rhode had been a full-fledged Slayer for almost five years and even she knew that she was too young and too inexperienced to become a commander. Save for a few impromptu promotions in the field during desperate times, no one had ever been given the rank of Commander after only a few years as a Slayer. Usually, the climb from newborn to commander would take about twenty years. There was a reason for that. One would need to hone ones skills as a leader as well as a warrior, and learn when to give orders and when to listen. A commander needed to build up a reputation and gain the respect of their fellow Slayers. Time and experience was needed, something that young Rhode lacked.

However, she had accomplished something that few of the commanders had; she had slain a Dragon! An actual Dragon Knight had met its end by Rhode's hand! The mission she had taken over was to track down a Dragon that had been sighted a few miles out of Aleroth. The group of Slayers had found the Dragon rather easily, as it had used its twisted magic to raise a small army of undead from the grave. The Slayers were quickly surrounded and that's when the commanding officer was struck by panic and rushed ahead, hoping to slay the Dragon before it could make the situation even more dire. Before the others could react, he had already been torn to pieces by the rotting masses. Moments later, Rhode took over and immediately ordered the ones with bows to shot at the Dragon's wings, while the others tried to push the undead horde back.

Soon, the Dragon Knight had to land and Rhode ordered the Slayers to quickly clear a path to the downed creature. With fire and will, they punched through the wall of rotten flesh and Rhode flew in, sword raised and a frenzied battle between Slayer and Dragon began.

Her heart had been beating harder than ever and her face was covered in sweat and gore, but she had never felt more alive! For every bite, she parried. For every swipe with its tail, she dodged. And when it rose up on its legs, she struck! Her blade pierced the softer flesh of its belly and then sliced its way out. The Dragon growled in pain and tried to dive down and bite her head off, but she dodged and turned around, and brought down her now crimson blade on its exposed neck, severing it from its body.

The undead stopped and collapsed into heaps of rotten flesh and bones. There had been silence after that, complete and utter silence, not even disturbed by the wind or faraway birds. The Slayers had been staring at her in amazement for a long time, before finally erupting into victorious shouts and relieved laughs. They had showered her with compliments, gratitude and eventually; wine!

Before she knew it, she had become something of a legend; the young junior officer who had lead her men into battle against an army of undead, and slain a Dragon!

She had respect, a reputation, and skill. More than some commanders, though no one would admit to saying that out loud. And now they were considering making her a commander, a leader among leaders. Was she up for it?

When she had met the commanders earlier, most of them were intrigued; she was very young , and a woman no less! Did she really slay a Dragon? When asked to recount the details of the mission to them, she spoke in a clear, strong voice while looking them in the eye, one by one.

By the end of her tale, before she was asked to wait outside, the commanders were left momentarily speechless, some of them even seemed intimidated. Bryce looked like he was holding back a smile.

Once she had left the room, she heard them get into a fierce discussion, one that seemed to be leaning in her favor. There were a few protests, but they didn't lead anywhere.

So, when she heard one of them say: "She is too young." she smiled. It sounded a little weak.