Read Ghosts Of Alfhaven (Book 2) for Free Online

obstacle courses of various types and complexities.
    Sawain saw dozens of elves wandering the courtyard. Some were dressed like Captain Nerelis' rangers while others were dressed more plainly. Some were using the training rings, but most were lounging in the grass, talking to friends and telling jokes. From what Sawain could see so far, it looked like a pleasant place.
    “ This place is the training grounds that produced rangers like Nerelis and his drones?”
    Ilias chuckled, assuming the responsibility of answering Sawain's indirect question, “This is the place. It looks harmless enough now because it is resting time. No training goes on an hour before dinner until morning. However, for the fourteen hours between that time, this place is a nightmare for the weak.”
    Sawain processed this information silently as he followed Ilias to the tower in the middle of the courtyard. He noticed the conversations stop as he walked by the groups of younger elves and felt several pairs of eyes watching him. He tried his best to keep his own eyes forward, but could not help a quick glance around.
    As his eyes swept the courtyard, anyone whose stare he briefly met quickly looked away in embarrassment. The talking turned to whispers. He felt more like a stranger than a guest again. He was relieved when he stepped into the tower with Ilias.
    Ilias led him up a spiraling staircase that lined the walls of the tower. The design was very similar to the main tower in the Arborhart, except not nearly as wide, and each floor was closed off by doors and hallways. They soon stopped their climb at the floor where the stairs ended. A single door stood at the end of the short hallway on this floor. It looked like a normal door with a brass knob. A wooden plank adorned the wall with an elven word inscribed onto it.
    Ilias ushered Sawain to the door before whispering to him, “The Director of the Fort is just beyond this door. Be on your best behavior and only answer when you are spoken to. You thought Captain Nerelis was ill tempered? The Director of Rowan Circle is on another level.”
    Sawain felt a lump rising in his throat and instinctively held his breath when Ilias reached to turn the handle. The pair stepped into a large office with green carpet, which reminded Sawain of the Dawnstar Manor, though this carpet was thicker and in much better condition. Bookshelves lined the back wall, packed full of tomes of different shapes, sizes and colors.
    A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room. Four chairs sat in front of the desk, and one larger, more comfortable looking one sat behind it. An elf woman sat in the comfortable chair. She was beautiful. Her blue eyes were set perfectly into her slender face. Her bronze colored hair  was clean and combed, tied up in a braid that hung across her left shoulder. She wore a blue silken tunic that fit her well. The only thing not beautiful about her was the scowl etched into her face. She put down the book she was reading and closed it roughly as she glared at Sawain.
    “You must be the outsider I received word about. Great. I was hoping you wouldn't find your way here. Do you know how much paperwork I am going to have to go through tonight to get you on one of my recruit teams?”
    Sawain shook his head silently. She snorted irritably.
    “Of course you don't.”
    Ilias came to Sawain's defense with a salute to the ill elven mistress, “Lady Tirinele, this young man has been chosen by the ancient gods to be a savior of his people. He--”
    Lady Tirinele waved him off and stopped his protest, “I read the report, guardsman. I don't need a reminder. Personally, I don't believe in the gods of men, but apparently the Triumvirate do. How ridiculous... Regardless, their word is law, and I am sworn to uphold the law. I don't like it, but my hands are tied. Welcome to Rowan Circle, Sawain of Anvilheim. You're in room 37. Dinner's in half an hour, breakfast is at 6. You will be given your team assignment