Before I begin:

This story is going to be about my avatar Arwen and her adventures in Sylestia. Of course it is also going to star the Sylesties I have in my stables, as well as some made-up ones. I hope you don't mind if I add a few things of my own, like horses (just couldn't resist adding them), some towns n' villages, an integrated version of the currency system, and a magic school of sorts. I have to make up some stuff anyway to cover for the lack of knowledge of the other regions (I'm such a newbie; I only know Viridian Meadows and the Umbra Forest). However I will ask an admin or more experienced player for help regarding the regions when needed, so that I don't find myself making things up left and right.

Remember, this is just a fanfiction and not canon. So please read, enjoy, and give me feedback as you see fit. Oh, and a warning before I get to disclaimers: this story will be rated PG-13 and up for some violence and blood that may/will/possibly be present.

I do not own the Sylestia game and its contents in any way.

PS: Magic school comes in later.


Chapter 1. The Road to Esior

The sun was hot on the dirt road and shone smoothly on the back of a sweaty black horse. The rider atop the horse was the same, having discarded her cloak unceremoniously across her horse's back after realizing she no longer needed it. A glinting red-and-black shape flew above them in the sky, circling in and out of the sun's range. It was an early summer morning, but it was one of those mornings that start off slightly warmer than usual, only to get worse come noon.

"Oh, gods' curses, when will we ever get there?" the rider moaned as she looked to the road beyond them, her hand shielding her eyes from the glaring sunlight. The long black hair plastered to the sides of her face was impatiently swept away. "Whooaa, Arvel," she said as she pulled the horse to a stop. A hand reached down into her saddlebags, coming up a moment later with a sheet of rolled parchment which she quickly unrolled.

"One, two, three..." she muttered, counting the miles. "Ah! An unholy two miles and a half left. Past that old bridge and then on my way to Esior's Haven." The map was quickly rolled up again, and then stuffed into the saddlebag. "Rest easy, old boy," she said, speaking to the horse, "I'll let you take a water break when we get to the bridge."

Arvel snorted as if in response, and continued to plod his way on the path.

Ignoring him, his rider looked skywards and put two fingers to her mouth. A shrill whistle was let out, startling a few nearby birds and making Arvel's ear twitch. But both human and horse knew what to expect. The rider held up a leather-gloved fist, almost as if to shield herself with her arm. In a few more moments, a red-and-black shape; with a hint of gold; flew down in a graceful flurry to land on the gloved proximity of the rider's fist and forearm.

"Queen, my darling, here-here...that's right, have a bit of this, we will be getting to the town soon. I promise I'll feed you with your favorite foods once we settle down."

Queen was an Aurleon with a black body, red feet and tips, and gold gilding. She was part of a certain species of special animals, the Sylesties. Unlike regular animals, Sylesties could come in all colors of the rainbow and have magical abilities. When trained, they were the best pets ever, providing both protection and companionship. Queen was her master's pride and joy, and often coddled like a child.

Her scarlet beak came forward to accept a slice of semi-dried fruit that was being handed to her, and after having accepted it, she flew away again to eat it in privacy. There was no worry of her escaping or flying off to somewhere she would not be found, for she was trained to return to her owner when prompted and when hungry. The latter was more of an instinct than any trained trick.

As Queen was flying away, the girl refocused her eyes back on the road. There was still so much to think of, so much to prepare, before and once she entered the Viridian town. Before she could even consider buying any land, she'd have to split her money to get the three of them food and shelter. Taxes and fees, too, if she stayed in the town long enough. Then there was the message which she bore...

She leaned back in the saddle and let out a sigh. The hair that was not damp with sweat fluttered in the scanty breeze behind her. The day was a good one, actually: clear skies, some clouds here and there. If only it weren't for the heat, then it would have been much more enjoyable. But of the three traveling companions, only Queen seemed to be unfazed by the temperature.

Well of course she was, she was flying up in the air, where the wind blew faster; and even if there were no wind, the force of her sleek avian body pushing against the resistant air would create enough of a draft to be considered as cool. Who wouldn't enjoy that? The blackhaired girl looked up a little enviously at her Aurleon, watching as she did a few dazzling spins and circles, going with the flow.

Suddenly, however, Queen halted to a flapping stop midair and began to circle above Arvel and the girl. Her beak opened and a shrill, piercing cry escaped her long throat. It sounded frantic, wary, suspicious. Arvel's reins were drawn in tight, for whenever Queen did that it either signified a dangerous animal up ahead or some such other trouble.

The girl reached for the sword at her hip, not yet sheathing it but in the act of doing so. Her eyes darted here and there, searching for any signs of life be it human or not.

The immediate area all around the road was still, quiet, tranquil--which either meant it was safe, or it was just the quiet brewing before the storm. The girl knew it could only be one of the two choices, with the second choice being far more likely (after all, Queen would not set off an alarm for nothing) and thus her guard was raised tremendously as the Aurleon continued in her repetitive warning.

Arvel's eyes were darting around as well, but in a more panicked version of his rider's caution. His ears twitched systematically, trying to catch both Queen's calls and other sounds that only he as an animal could pick up.

A distinct rustling in the bushes up ahead alerted the girl, and she swiveled Arvel in the direction of the noise.

"Who goes there?" she demanded loudly. In the event it was a human, of course.

An arrow whizzed out seemingly from above her, passing barely a half-inch away from her shoulder. She whirled around, startled, and Arvel moved with her. In the time her attentions were divided on the location of the arrow, however, whatever was in the bushes leapt out, attempting to startle the horse into a rear.

Arvel did rear, but the girl on his back was an experienced rider and she held onto him with her knees. Once he settled down, she could clearly see that they were not alone anymore.

Two men were to the front and back of her, each one brandishing daggers but no bow and arrows. The girl looked up where the hidden archer could only have been and sure enough, there was a third man sitting in the high branches of a tree, bow in hand and arrow notched.

Bandits? she thought. Why are bandits attacking me so close to the town?

"It's just a horse, Shim," one of the dagger bandits said to the other. "Ain't of no real value. She looks scanty, too."

"Aye, but what we get, we're gettin'," the other, Shim, said.

Here is a rundown of the value of a traveler to the bandits: Horses were common, regular, affordable to common folk. Everyone used them because they were big and sturdy. People who travel on them--who have to travel on them--usually do so to save their penny because horse feed comes cheap. Cheaper, by far, than Qitari or Faelora feed.

You could probably say the difference lay in the other two being Sylesties. Perhaps it was so. But for whatever reason, it was the higher class that preferred to use the two Sylesti species as transportation when going around anywhere. Neither the Qitari or Faelora were as big as a horse, but they happened to be just as strong, provided they had the right exercise. Noblemen often rode Qitari for their hunts, excursions around town, or extravagant travels with a whole entourage behind them. Their ladies sat daintily on the flowery Faelora's back, mostly for show, and even more rarely for travel.

So, the value order, from highest to lowest was: Faelora --> Qitari ---> Horse.

And at the moment, the bandits surrounding the girl were judging her as a poor catch because what she rode was neither one of the two famed Sylesties.

The girl was not afraid, however, and unsheathed her sword in sight of the three bandits. "So do you want to rob me or not?"

Shim caught the snap in her voice and glared at her. "You won't be talkin' once we're through with you!"

"I'll talk as much as I want to--scream, even," she retorted. "Unless you bandits have realized, we're only a stark two miles from the town, possibly less. The patrols will hear me and deal with you accordingly."

For some reason, though, neither three of the bandits were surprised at the revelation. Nor did they seem concerned. It was almost as if they knew they were close to the town, daring the patrols to come out and grab them.

While typing the first chapter, I realized there was a limit on the words, so I'm going to continue the chapter here. (Please forgive me, I'm used to typing long chapters)


(Chapter 1 Continued)

Shim started to circle around her horse, his eyes looking both rider and beast up and down appraisingly. There was a lingering look at her saddlebags before he muttered low to himself, "Spoiled kid, got her name stitched onto a bag. Ain't it cute?"

The other bandit came up beside him to see the bag. It was approximately big enough to hold in two hands and made of the typical sun-browned leather, with the name Arwen embroidered on it in darker brown thread.

He chuckled maliciously. "Aww, a keepsake from Ma! Must've taken her all night by the candle flame, her tired old eyes and her bony old hands working hard out of love." He spat after putting a heavy emphasis on the word 'love'.

Arwen whirled her horse around so that they were no longer looking at the saddlebags, but Arvel's face. "Quit fooling around! If you truly mean to harm me, I swear! I--"

"You'll scream?" Shim finished, and the three bandits laughed.

Arwen looked angry. "I'll do more than that, I promise you."

The bandit in the tree tsk-tsked at her. "Not so fast, love. That sword of yours can't do nothing with me above you. I'll have my arrows sticking out of you like the quills of a porcupine before you can yell for your Ma."

Arwen only gave him a brief glance before looking skyward again, noting that so far the bandits hadn't seen her splendid Aurleon just yet; if they had, they would have mentioned Queen, and the bandit in the tree would have attempted to shoot her down. Even Arwen couldn't see her right now, hidden as she was.

Clever girl, Arwen thought. I hope you're as obedient as you are smart, though.

The thought was sarcastic, because of course Queen would listen to her every command, even if it was to dive headlong down to her own doom (but there was no way Arwen would make her do that). Queen would be her element of surprise, her strategy where her physical prowess was lacking; at least compared to the bandits. If they weren't unevenly placed, with Arwen not having a horse to try and protect, there was no doubt she could have taken at least one of them down before the other two jumped on her.

As she summed up the bandits once more, she also realized they didn't think much of the hawker's glove on her hand, something they were drastically overlooking. It was only one glove, which would have struck others as strange, but Arwen was not about to correct that mistake of theirs politely.

So she pretended to look frustrated and slowly re-sheathed her sword, letting the bandit in the tree hear it slide in with a satisfying clack.

"That's a good girl," the bandit above her said. "Now ease off the horse..."

Arwen let go of the rains and pressed both palms against the tip of the saddle as though she were really going to swing her legs off the horse. She stopped midway and pretended some dust had gotten in her eye. After she was done rubbing it, she brought the hand down at mouth level. Two fingers went in past her lips...

The sound of the whistle puzzled the bandits at first, but then they started to look frantically around for any sign of reinforcements. The bandit in the tree, especially, swung his notched arrow here and there, searching for imaginary targets.

When he felt that his patience had run thin, he finally settled his arrow's destination on Arwen. "I've had enough of your funny games!"

"That's just as funny, because I wasn't playing any to begin with," Arwen commented glibly, although she nearly felt her heart stop when she saw his arrow trained on her. Come on, Queen...

Her hope came fast enough in the form of a distinct graceful red-and-black mass of feathers zeroing in on the bandit in the tree. She had emerged seemingly out of nowhere, but Arwen had seen her come out from hiding amongst the trees opposite the bandits. Clever idea, because again if they'd seen her beforehand, they would've tried to shoot her.

"Fireball!" Arwen commanded, and Queen obliged by opening her beak and letting loose a ball of flame the size of two fists. The fire caught in the branches at the bandit's feet, slowly eating its way up towards him.

"Down and again!" Arwen said, and Queen released another fireball at the two bandits' feet, startling them into a frenzied dance of sorts. "Now, hurry onward!" Arwen repositioned herself in the saddle, grabbed hold of the reins, and slapped Arvel's bottom. "Hyah!"

The black horse galloped as he had never galloped before, going at such a breakneck pace that none of the bandits, even if they rode on their much sought-after Qitari, could hope to catch up to her.

Several seconds later, Arwen looked behind her to check if the bandits were following her. But their receding forms were too jostled and blurred by both their movements and Arvel's galloping bounce, so she wasn't so sure as to what they were doing. But one thing was for certain: they weren't going to catch her again any time soon.

And for bandits to be attacking so close to a town, she thought. You'd think the place had better defenses. I think I've got a word or two for the sheriff on this!

After what seemed like an eternity of endless galloping, Arvel finally started slowing down and Arwen kept him at a jogging pace, so that he didn't stop too soon. She looked behind her once more, but saw no one in sight. She gave a relieved sigh and looked skywards again as Queen let out a delighted little call.

"What is it, darling?" Arwen asked her lovingly.

Queen swept down to brush past her face, and then zoomed ahead before turning back to flying above her owner. Arwen knew that to be an Aurleon gesture for "Look!" and look she did.

A stone bridge lay before them, and the sound of rushing water greeted their ears. Beyond that, rising above several treetops, were a few thin stripes of smoke lazily wounding upward against the bright blue sky. "The town," Arwen said, and urged her horse for the bridge. "But first, my promise," she said as she led him toward the riverbank.

Chapter 2. New in Town

"Bandits, you say?" the guard asked.

Arwen nodded. "Yes, three of them."

After giving Arvel a water break, Arwen had ridden to Esior at a light canter and was stopped at the entrance by the guards. They did the customary search through her bags and pockets to ensure she was not an illegal smuggler or thief, and satisfied, were willing to let her go. But the episode with the bandits had not escaped her mind and the girl was determined to relay it to the nearest authority possible.

"Just two miles out of town, too," she added. "I don't know whether they knew about that or not. When I told them, they seemed quite smug. Anyway, who're the Lord and sheriff of this town? I'd like to make a formalized report."

The guard made an anxious face and muttered an apology to her. "You won't be the first to make a formalized report," he added after a while. "Ah, well, guess there's no harm in adding another one. The town's Lord died a few years back, and his widow, Lady Elora, takes care of things now. You can find Sheriff Thyrm in the barracks, upper northwest corner of town. He'll take your report there."

Arwen raised an eyebrow. "I won't be the first? Does that mean these bandits have been attacking travelers to the town?"

The guard sighed. "A real pain in the...rear," he said, trying to avoid the curse equivalent in front of a lass. "Sheriff Thyrm should know more about them. Maybe he can tell you."

Arwen nodded. "I see. Well, good day; I'll be going now."

The guard tipped his hat at her. "Good day to you too. Nice Aurleon, by the way."

She smiled and urged Arvel forward, Queen flying low beside her. The moment they stepped from beyond the guards' post, the ground was no longer rough dirt but smooth cobblestone and the sounds of everyday town life began to open up to them. It was a more noticeably different atmosphere than the open sky and grass and trees. There was a certain sort of charm a small town like this usually brought, probably from the homely stone buildings and houses. But then there was the underside of it, which included the town's trash, sweaty civilians, and public outhouses. In bigger cities, Arwen had heard, some people didn't bother to use outhouses at all. In the poorer corners, at least.

Still, it was more comforting to know that she wouldn't be sleeping on the ground tonight.

After asking several people for directions, Arwen finally found herself coming up to a series of long, fenced-in buildings. It was more like a complex, actually, with its own granary to the far left. The first thing she encountered when coming up to it was the stables and corral; four horses were grazing in the pen and a man in uniform was stroking the nose of one (a dappled grey, Arwen noted) whilst standing outside the fence. Looking to the granary, she spotted several more similarly garbed men guarding the entrances, standing still as stones. From the central buildings loud baritone orders were barked out followed by a chorus of "Yes, sir!" In their wake was the thunderous monotone of booted feet on solid ground.

Arvel's ear twitched as his rider urged him in front of the corral, where she stopped and slid cleanly off. He snorted and pushed his muzzle at her face, receiving an absent-minded stroke and pat as his only reward. As Arwen finished tying the reins to a fence post and started to move away toward the man stroking the dappled grey, Queen flew up in a flourish to settle herself on the empty saddle. Arvel gave her a small look backwards before turning his head around to watch the humans' interaction.

"Hello, sir," Arwen greeted as she came up to him.

The man froze in his stroking and turned to look at her. He was quite young with striking sky blue eyes and soft blonde hair. Arwen was a little surprised to see him in a guardsmen's uniform, young as he was, but after watching how he moved as he turned towards her she changed her mind. His steps were fluid and careful, and his eyes watched her with the appropriate amount of measurement and wariness--signs of an adept fighter who could hold his own. He was quick to notice the sword at her hip, of course, but looked up quickly from it to give her a warm smile.

"Well hello there, miss," he said. His voice was just as young as he looked. "What brings you to the barracks? I don't think I've seen you around before. Is there anything you need help with? I'm Deputy Schmidt, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Deputy Schmidt," Arwen returned. "Yes, I am new, and I will be needing some help." She proceeded to tell him what she told the town guard.

((In Progress))

Reserved.

Reserv-ED!