Spring 4978, 10 Kuromoth

The streets were always quieter after a big celebration. The Spring Equinox, in particular, was a day of new beginnings and ceremonies. Youths that had reached maturity the previous year were given the test of Divine Capability, apprentices who had earned their journeyman status were elevated officially, and more marriages were performed on that day than any other. Throughout the kingdom, families and communities held feasts for their closest friends, celebrating these beginnings and reaffirming their bonds for the following year.

In Clearhelm, citizens often stayed up late into the night, drinking and toasting the end of winter for the second time. Now that it finally felt over. The snow in this northernmost province had finally melted completely, and the sun had returned to take up the majority of the day. And though the early morning breeze wouldn’t lose its chill for another month at least, Shon didn’t care. And the other children running ahead of him on the empty streets didn’t seem to mind either, their short cloaks flapping open as they dodged around the rare adult up early despite a night of heavy drinking.

This particular gang of boys consisted of only five. The two oldest would reach maturity in time for the following Spring Equinox, and the next was ten. But Shon and Gaven were only seven and the two were just happy to be included in this group of more mature boys.

The most senior led the others to the city walls, making a show of slipping behind boxes and looking carefully around corners the closer they got to the city border. Shon couldn’t help but roll his eyes as Gaven tried to imitate them, sneaking their way to the wall. Though they were allowed to be there. So long as they stayed inside it.

The stone walls surrounding the city proper were fifteen feet tall and five feet thick, wide enough for guards to patrol the top and for war machines to struggle to penetrate. But the kingdom hadn’t seen war for over four-thousand years. Not since the warring kingdoms were united into provinces by Saint Giorgos to form the united kingdom of Daanlin.

The children, kept safe from the dangers supposedly ever-present outside the city, assumed the Temple of Hengist was merely paranoid and that they didn’t need to be kept behind the great walls anymore. If anyone asked them, the kids would say that the wall around Smilnda was meant to keep them in, and as such, was seen as a challenge.

The boys ran along the base of the wall, towards the northwest, where abandoned tents and shacks still leaned against the solid stone border. The refugees had left the previous week, celebrating the Spring Equinox back in their rebuilt town. For them, it was even more of a new beginning than previous years. According to the posters on nearly every rickety door or ragged canvas flap, the temporary refugee housing would be fully disassembled in the following month. 

Shon tried to keep his eyes on all of his fellow children as they ran ahead and snuck around, doing their best to keep to the shadows before ducking into a particularly solid-looking shanty leaning against the wall. He felt nervous for reasons he couldn’t fully explain. The others seemed excited by the prospect of being able to slip out of the city, shouldn't he too? But they weren’t sneaking just for fun or pretend; this was very much against the rules. They all knew it, and yet they did it anyway. It left a solid weight in the pit of Shon’s stomach, more reminiscent of guilt than fear.

“Here…” the oldest boy whispered while his fellow pulled at the planks making up the far wall of the shack. The first board slipped free revealing part of the city wall, but the second showed a dark crack. The edge of a tunnel. Gaven rushed forward to help them with the third and fourth planks, fully exposing a rough passage through the wall. Only two feet across and four tall, it was barely large enough for the kids and would've been far too tight a squeeze for an adult. Which was probably why it hadn’t been properly repaired with stone.

“Are you sure it goes all the way through?” the ten-year-old whispered, squinting into the darkness.

Planting fists on hips, the oldest nodded with a broad smile, “Yep. Lara told me about it from when she was staying here." -before the Church found out about her parents- "It twists once about halfway through, so you can’t see light, but if you put your hand here…” he demonstrated, placing his hand in the middle of the crack, “you can feel a breeze.”

“I’ll go first,” the next oldest declared, knocking his fellow’s hand out of the way. He had to shimmy into the crack sideways, his knees bent awkwardly to bring himself low enough. The oldest followed at a weird half crawl, neither waiting for the others.

The ten-year-old swallowed but followed the older boys. Gaven glanced at Shon, who hadn’t moved from the door, “Coming?” Gaven asked, a little nervousness slipping into his voice. The small show of fear had Shon steeling himself and nodding. He wouldn’t make Gaven go by himself. His friend smiled gratefully, then ducked down and into the crack, waiting just a foot in for Shon to follow.

Shon and Gaven didn’t have to struggle in the tight space as much as the older and larger boys, so they found themselves waiting as they caught up quickly. “Fuck. Give me a minute.” the lead boy called out. The echoing scrape of wood on stone followed as he shifted something. Shon could feel Gaven shaking ahead of him. His friend didn’t like tight spaces or the dark. Shon clenched his fists and slipped his hands behind his back, feeling that if he accidentally touched Gaven now, he might give the brave boy a heart attack.

“What’s taking so long?” the ten-year-old hissed in a whisper loud enough that Shon wondered why he didn’t bother to just speak normally.

One last slide and grunt accompanied the answer, “Got it!” spoken just as loudly. The boys started moving again, and soon Gaven was stumbling out of the crack, breathing heavy and leaning against the wall for support. Shon slipped out next to him, his blue eyes concerned and focusing only on his friend, who smiled weakly before he let his own gaze slip past Shon and into the distance, his mouth going slack.

Shon turned and saw the outside world for the first time. The land around Smildna was clear for at least an acre, with long grass waving in the breeze. Beyond that, thick pines blocked the horizon and cast dark shadows onto the fields.

“Wow… so much space!” the ten-year-old didn’t bother to whisper anymore.

The oldest boys exchanged mischievous looks and nodded before they turned together, and the most senior said, “Race you to the trees!” then they both sprinted across the grass, leaving the younger three scrambling to keep up.

Shon stood frozen in place as a strong gust caused the grass to roll like waves and the distant trees to creak and scratch against each other, sounding almost like rain.

“Come on, Shon!” Gaven called, turning to wave and nearly tripping over his own feet.

Shon shook himself and sprinted after them. He'd thought the parks in the nobles' district had been open, but this, this was freedom. He caught up to Gaven, who was laughing too much to keep up his speed. When he caught a glimpse of Shon out of the corner of his eye, Gaven growled and bulled ahead, not willing to come in last. Shon let him go, preferring to keep everyone in view anyway, though his eyes drifted to the treetops dancing in the breeze, feeling as free as the wind outside the city walls.

***

Rasnah sighed, leaning down in her saddle to pat Darehar hard on the neck. The warhorse snorted and shook his shaggy mane, appreciating the attention, and the Paladin smiled.

“Sirs!” the gate guard snapped to attention, saluting sharply to the three Paladins and their wagon as they rode leisurely through the north gate, “Safe travels, General!” 

Rasnah nodded curtly while her two subordinates returned the guard's salute. She scanned the trees ahead and sighed as the first gust of unhindered wind blew over the grass. The wagon rattled behind them, adding its creaking song to that of the dancing trees. It had been a full year since she'd left the city, though then she'd gone south.

“Back to Hamerfoss…” the Paladin to her right whispered.

“Can’t believe it's only been a year, can you?” The other asked, the smile clear enough in his voice that Rasnah didn’t have to look to know it was there, “I remember when I took my Oath,” he sighed, the memory a happy one. It always was. “This'll be my first time back since then.”

“How long ago were you in training?” the junior asked.

“Five years.” 

“And you, Sir?” the junior directed the question to Rasnah, trying and include her. She turned her head just a little to arch a gray eyebrow at him. He blushed, “I mean, I know the girls train in Helmswarth, but…”

“Nearly forty years, Sir Calin,” Rasnah answered with a crooked half-smile, “and Helmswarth is nearly an exact replica of Hamerfoss. Perhaps you'll see it someday.” she reigned in Darehar enough to allow the two men to catch up while the wagon trudged along slowly behind.

She continued, back to business, “We have four graduates this year. As you know, they had their vigil last night and will take their formal Oaths when we arrive to greet our new brothers with their orders. I expect you both to remain professional, they are no longer Squires, and neither are you. The Temple of Hengist…” Rasnah’s voice trailed off as she felt a pull in her chest.

A whisper on the wind had her signaling Darehar to a full stop and turning him west, scanning the tree line. “Do you feel that?” she asked her subordinates.

“General?” Calin asked curiously.

“I…” the more senior started then stopped. Pulling up beside Rasnah, his eyes followed hers along the tree line and around the curve of the city wall, “What is it?”

Rasnah took a deep breath and closed her eyes, seeking the warm guiding light always burning in her heart and soul. Her eyes snapped open, “Sir Calin,” she turned to the youngest knight, Darehar dancing nervously below her, “stay with the wagon. Sir Garn with me.”

They didn’t question as she kicked Darehar into a canter. Following the whisper of a feeling sent by their god.

***

“I’ll be Sir Galant!” the ten-year-old picked up a long stick from the edge of the forest, holding it aloft like a sword, he declared, “I wield the mighty sword Longfallo!”

Shon rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct the older boy, but Gaven didn’t hold back. Laughing, he said, “Galant didn’t wield Longfallo! He held Fareaker!” Gaven picked up his own stick and swung it slowly at the ten-year-old, who laughed and hit the pretend sword with his own. They were both wrong. Shon stayed quiet.

“What're you doing?” the eldest boy asked his fellow, ignoring the younger kids to watch his friend pull himself up and peek into a hollow in one of the larger trees further in.

“Looking for a pseudodragon nest.” his friend answered simply.

The ten-year-old stopped his sword fight to sneer at the older boys, “Those aren’t real.”

“They are!” the two exclaimed in unison, causing all three of the others to blink in shock before they explained, “We saw one. A Mage in the Guild has one as a pet.”

“No way…”

“What did it look like!?” 

Gaven and the ten-year-old rushed the older boys, trying to jump and see into the tree hollow as if it hadn’t already been checked. Shon walked to join them, just as interested in a story of the miniature dragons as the others but able to contain his excitement in a way they obviously couldn’t.

“He said that pseudodragons look exactly like real dragons used to, only smaller.” the oldest boy explained sagely.

The ten-year-old huffed in disbelief, “And how would they even know? All the real dragons were killed off a thousand years ago.”

Five thousand. Shon thought the correction but didn’t bother to voice it. It didn’t matter if it had been five thousand years or one thousand; the point was the dragons were all dead and had been for a very long time.

Deep in the woods, a twig snapped.

The oldest boy opened his mouth to argue, but Shon held a finger to his lips before lunging forward to grab the boy's arm. The boy pulled away from Shon’s grip, nearly tripping and rubbing where Shon had touched him.

Completely ignoring the younger boy's warning to be silent, he shouted, “What the hell, why are you always so fucking cold?”

But Gaven saw the look on Shon’s face and hissed at the eldest to be quiet. They all heard the second snap only a few yards away. Five pairs of scared eyes scanned the woods, seeing nothing. Five pairs of shaking legs moved slowly back, towards the field and the city walls.

Shon felt the low growl rumble in his chest before he heard it. “Run!” Gaven screamed, throwing his stick into the trees just as a beast as tall as he was crashed through the underbrush.

The boys sprinted into the open field. Ahead of Shon, the ten-year-old tripped, sprawling in the grass and dropping his stick. The beast snarled, and Shon dipped, picking up the stick and turning to face the monster while the ten-year-old tried to crawl back to his feet.

The drakwalf was at least four feet tall at the shoulder, with tattered leathery wings the same muddy brown as its scales sprouting from sharply protruding shoulder blades. Shaped like an emaciated wolf, its ribs could be seen clearly shifting below its flesh. Its pointed tongue hung limply from its mouth, drool dangling like slimy ropes from rows of sharply jagged teeth. It stalked out of the shade of the trees, and Shon’s arms shook as he held the stick in both sweating hands.

With a snarl, the drakwalf pounced, and Shon swung. The stick cracked the monster across the face, but Shon wasn’t prepared to see blood fly from its ribs as it fell to the ground.

“Get back!” the woman's voice was a Command that carried past sound and slammed into Shon’s mind, compelling him to take a step back despite his shaking legs. Two knights dismounted from their horses at a run, one with his sword already drawn. But they were still ten yards away as the drakwalf struggled to its feet again. The man sliced the air with his sword, and another cut appeared on the monster's neck. Scarlet blood splashed across Shon’s face, and he fell back, dropping the stick, his body still trying to obey the woman's Command.

The female Paladin slid in front of the boys just as two more drakwalves crashed out of the forest, howling in rage. Shon could hear the other boys all clap their hands over their ears, but Shon was too transfixed to do even that much.

The woman reached for his fallen stick, picking it up in her left hand as she drew her blade with her right. Both stick and sword began to glow with a soft blue-white light as the two drakwalves lunged, their wings flapping just enough to give them some extra speed and height.

What had once been a simple stick was now a second glowing sword in the woman's hand. She lifted the twin blades, refusing to sidestep and expose the boys to attack if she dodged. The left monster’s jump was nearly over her head, and the woman stepped into it, lifting the stick-turned-sword and slicing through the hard scales of its belly like paper, splashing herself and the ground in a wave of scarlet and entrails. The right monster ducked below her right-hand swing and latched onto her knee, twisting as it bit, denting armor and ripping flesh before dodging away from the Paladin's counter.

The Paladin didn’t cry out in pain; instead, Shon watched as she let out a slow breath and stepped forward on a leg that was healing before his eyes. “Hengist take you,” She breathed, and brought her sword down. She sliced into the drakwalf’s shoulder and sent it slamming into the ground. It struggled to stand, but the Paladin merely flicked the blood from her blade. The cut along its shoulder exploded in a shower of gore and blue light, spreading until it circled the beast. It fell in two pieces back to the ground.

Shon snapped his mouth closed and shielded his eyes from the red rain as the male Paladin ran the rest of the way to them, yelling, “General Rasnah! Are they alright?” he slid on his knees to Shon, reaching for him, “Are you hurt, boy?”

Shon pulled away just as the knight’s hand grasped his arm. The Paladin jerked back in surprise, and Shon muttered, “I’m fine.” before the Paladin could say anything more.

“What are you doing out here?” the woman turned, removing her helm, and giving Shon a good look at her face. She wasn't as young as he'd assumed by the way she moved. She had gray hair, the same steely color as her eyes, and lines around her scowling mouth as she arched a severe-looking eyebrow at the boys.

She hadn’t yelled, but the other four boys all flinched, looking to the ground in shame and fear. “We… we were sent to gather-” the oldest started to lie.

“We snuck through the wall.” Shon interrupted with the truth, and all four choked. Shon ignored them, looking up at the knight, who continued to stare, so he elaborated, “We’ve never been outside the city before, so we snuck out through a crack in the wall.”

He waited for the Paladins to start yelling, but they didn’t. “Show me.” the woman said simply, gesturing for the city with the now normal stick before tossing it aside. The boys all turned in silence, still staring at the ground as they walked. Shon saw them shooting angry glances his way, but he continued to ignore them, focusing on his feet and replaying the fight in his head, again and again, trying to memorize every detail. 

“Your parents?” the male Paladin, much younger than the woman, demanded as they walked.

“We don’t…” Gaven started,

“The Church…” The ten-year-old said weakly.

The woman understood, “I will be speaking to Father Branston directly.” Shon flinched, not sure in this circumstance if the normally kindly Abbot would be better or worse than the strict matron.

The Paladins' horses caught up to them at a lazy walk -without being called- as the boys reached the wall. The male knight sighed, kicking the large plank that had blocked this side of the crack while the woman stared coldly at the boy's once hidden passage. “Looks like it was blocked by the refugees, General…” the male observed. All five of the boys nodded, still looking at the ground.

The woman’s voice was calm and even, “I want the names of everyone who patrolled this part of the wall in the last two months on my desk by the time I return from Hamerfoss. There is no excuse for such negligence.” The junior knight didn’t argue. Saluting sharply to his superior, he picked up the plank and replaced it over the crack. “You five, come with me.” the General turned north, her horse and the boys following obediently.

*** 

The Abbot’s office was on the second floor of the northern portion of the church complex. Situated behind and above the chapel, it had full-sized windows on both the east and west walls, from just above the floor to just below the ceiling, which had extensive skylights. Like a miniature version of the chapel below, the light of Soleil shone through no matter the time of day.

Shon had never had reason to be in the Abbot’s office before now. He stood silently with the rest of the boys as Sir Rasnah told Father Branston what happened outside the city. They all braced for an explosion, but it was worse, the Abbot just sighed, leaning forward on his desk and lacing chubby fingers together in front of his face. 

“Are we going to be arrested?” the ten-year-old asked in a nervous whisper.

Still facing the floor, Shon glanced up to see Sir Rasnah arching a steely eyebrow at them. Father Branston sighed again, “Leaving the city is not against the law, young man, only the rules. If anyone is going to be tried for this, it would be me.”

Shon looked up in shock, but Sir Rasnah just snorted, “Don’t be overly dramatic, Branston,” she said calmly, “you didn't send the boys out. This was not reckless endangerment on your part, merely reckless stupidity on theirs.”

Father Branston closed his eyes and shook his head, “Thank Soleil you were in the area Rasnah…” he turned sad eyes to the boys, “All three of you will be grounded for a full month for this, with extra chores and a three-page essay explaining why you're not allowed out of the city without reason or protection.”

The oldest boys both choked, the ten-year-old whined, Shon nodded solemnly, and Gaven spluttered, “But why? Why can’t we go outside?”

Shon shot a glare at his friend out of the corner of his eye. It was a stupid question. But Sir Rasnah answered it anyway, “Besides the obvious risk of monster attack?” Gaven at least had the decency to blush, and she continued, “the area outside the city is not safe, drakwalves, kobolds, draken, and worse, all prowl the wilds.”

“And we didn’t know where you were,” the Abbot added, pushing off his desk and climbing to his feet, “If Sir Rasnah hadn’t been guided by Hengist to save you, we would've had no idea that anything had even happened. Even if you hadn’t been killed, you could've been injured, and no one would know where you were to help.” he finally looked angry and not just disappointed, though his voice remained calm, “No rule is without reason. They are to protect you, to keep you safe and alive. Even I can't raise the dead, and that is exactly what you would've been had those drakwalves caught you.”

“We didn’t…” the oldest boy started, but Branston continued past him,

“You risked not only your lives but the lives of all those who may have heard about it and tried for themselves. If you hadn’t been hurt or caught, more would have tried the same, thinking it was safe.” the Abbot let out a frustrated breath, sitting heavily again, still just as calm and disappointed in his wards, “There are consequences to your actions, boys. I’m just glad this time it's only a punishment and not your lives.” he waved a fat hand to the door, dismissing them.

Trailing behind the others, Shon looked up to see Sir Rasnah watching them while Branston rubbed his face with both hands. The knight met Shon’s eye and held up a hand, “You, boy, a word.” at her words, Branston hummed, looking past his palms to Sir Rasnah, then down at Shon in question.

“What’s your name?” Rasnah asked as Shon turned back to the office.

The door clicked shut, the others leaving him alone with the adults. “Shon…”

She nodded curtly, clasping her hands behind her back, “I know the others wanted to lie about why you were all out there; I hope you know why you're not getting a lesser punishment despite your honesty.” Shon nodded. Sir Rasnah waited for more then finally prompted, “Explain, Shon. I want to be sure you understand.”

“I broke the rule. Telling you or not doesn’t change that.” Shon looked to the door. He honestly thought they'd gotten off easy, though if some of that was due to his confession or not really didn’t matter. So he didn’t say anything more.

Father Branston cleared his throat, but when Shon turned to the Abbot the man wasn’t looking at him, he was talking to Sir Rasnah, “You should know, Ras, that Shon is the boy who was left with your Temple…” Shon scrunched his face in confusion, and the lady knight's eyebrows shot into the sky in surprise. She looked at Shon again with a new focus that made him shift uncomfortably where he stood.

“He did hit one of the beasts with a stick… but I didn’t want to encourage such behavior...”

Shon could feel his face flush, and he looked down. It had been stupid. If it hadn’t been for the Paladins, the monster would have simply attacked him then the fallen ten-year-old. But Shon hadn’t thought about that at the time; he'd simply acted, trying to give his companion time to run.

The adults continued to speak to each other above him, “You really feel he's meant for the Temple, Branston?” 

Shon’s head shot up in time to see the Abbot nod seriously, “If he's able to pass the Divine Compatibility test, then I think all the signs are there. You have to admit that they're rarely this clear.”

Sir Rasnah hummed again, "Perhaps… There is something about him,” she addressed Shon, “Do you know who your patron god is, Shon?’

Shon could only blink at the knight, and Branston answered for him, “They'll be studying the gods more in-depth in the coming weeks.”

“Hengist is my favorite…” Shon muttered, then stopped as both adults focused on him again. Rasnah made a gesture with her hand for him to continue, so Shon squared his shoulders. He was speaking to a member of the Temple of Hengist, a divine instrument of the god in question, “Hengist fights evil and injustice. His knights are the most noble and could all do amazing things.” Shon loved the stories of the Chosen of Hengist; they were the most exciting, and in his opinion, the most influential of all the gods' legends.

“Are you aware, Shon, that when you were born, you were not left in the care of the Church?” Sir Rasnah asked bluntly.

Behind his desk Father Branston looked sad and addressed the Paladin, “We don’t like to speak of what brought the children into our care, Rasnah. For many, it's painful to think about why or how they became orphans.”

Shon shook his head in response to both adults. He didn’t care why he was with the Church. Whether his parents were alive or not, or why they'd left him in the care of the province, didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change anything if he knew. For him, this was the only life he'd ever known, and overall it was a good one.

“I’m sorry…” Rasnah whispered but then continued, “but I think you should know that you were left on the doorstep of the Temple of Hengist. We brought you here because it is the Church of Soleil who cares for children of the kingdom.”

Shon scrunched his face in question, and Branston answered, “We think it may be a sign that you are destined for the Temple. To be a Cleric or a Paladin of Hengist… if you feel called to do so,” Shon’s eyes went wide, and Sir Rasnah nodded in silent agreement with the Abbot.

“It's something to consider,” Rasnah said, “though we will not force you if you feel called to something else.”

Though always quiet, Shon found himself at a loss for words. Him, a Paladin? He remembered the fight outside vividly. The way Sir Rasnah had stood between him and the snarling drakwalf, the way her sword had glowed, and her wound had knit itself back together even while she fought. Paladins were the military and law of the province, equal with nobles. That someone like him could ever hope to be one someday… He thought of all the stories he'd memorized of the knights of Hengist, of how strong they were and all the good they'd done. Him? A Paladin?

Father Branston’s voice broke through Shon’s swirling thoughts, “Such a possibility is still a few years off, Shon. Think about it. But for now, you should go. The matron will have your new chore schedule by the end of the day.” 

Shon left the office with a nod to show he'd heard. Wandering slowly down the stairs and through the chapel, his head swam with possibilities. Like the other children, he enjoyed pretending to be one of the great knights of old, fighting villains of Horsa and monsters like the draken. But he hadn’t put any real thought into what he might do when he was older.

Could he really be a Paladin? Was he meant to be a Paladin? The possibility seemed too good to be true. And yet Shon found himself daring to hope.