Beginnings Gone

Knight of The Order of Leto, Tristan Redd, looks back on his first memory of being in the ranks.

There was no fear in his eyes, despite looking at nothing short of certain death. He did not hide from the inevitable; in fact, he seemed to revel in it, as if the pain made him stronger. That was preposterous! In reality, of course, it didn't " it made him weak, his pride kept him from drawing his final, painful breath.

The room was warm but dank. Humidity was horrid, and breathing hurt terribly " worse for the man on the floor, being propped up by the walls that met in the corner of the room. The door, somewhat heavy wood with a rusting metallic handle, opened. Traynor tried not to gasp or move too quickly. It appeared to be counter-intuitive, as if it went against all he knew and what came to him as natural. Mental reminders prevented him from looking, and a loud grunt sounded as the door shut with a thud.

"Mage," the voice was Commander Grind's, "Still alive? Magic of a sort, I suppose,"

Traynor said nothing. He couldn't even if he had wanted to, which luckily he didn't. If he had, something would have been said prior to the new arrivals' entrance. As the silence built up, it became more annoying than the humidity. That was when Grind decided to continue, after spitting on the ground and walking towards the mage, "Silence, typical; Leto has cursed you, yet you have not been repenting for your blood-crimes. Beg for forgiveness, prove that you're more worthy than the other mages " more moral."

The blood on the mage's face began to dry, but his lip continued to bleed a little. He'd been locked up with no medical attendance, and Traynor himself was no healer. The aftermath of a struggle, clearly, and it appeared that the mage had lost…

This is my first memory of being a Knight of The Order.

I'm not a lover of mages; I have my reasons to hate them. Traynor was allowed to see the other mages, the healers, a few hours after the meeting " the interrogation " had occurred. He was given a bed, and fresh robes, and left to his own devices. Traynor was a good man, kind fellow, but The Order dictated, "Any mage, magi, or magic-users must be under Order regulation. No man should be ruled by anything other than his own morality." Kind man or not, Traynor was screwed. A mage will always possess magic, and magic is a liability and a danger to others.

For those interested, magic healed the physical wounds but not the haunting emotional scarring inflicted. Traynor sits alone in his room, re-reading the same tattered book he'd found on the book shelf (then in perfect condition), for most of the day, every day.

I took my oath in desperation; I needed a place to go. Under Captain Luke's commands, I serve the Order of Leto as one of the Knights, in Vallen. The Tower of The Order, commonly called the Tower, in Vallen is in the Docks.

Author's Note

Criticise all but the names please - I like the names.