Chapter 1 - Takanova

Waking with a start, Cedric slowly realized he was dreaming. It was the same dream he’d had since that day. A memory of the day he first truly experienced war, and death.

Following that day, and because of that experience, he’d come down with a disease that nearly cost him his life. The month that followed that day was absolute hell, especially for an eleven-year-old boy.

Despite that hell, it was the scene itself that so vividly replayed in his dreams. Even six years later, he still couldn’t shake the memory from his subconscious, even though he’d worked avidly to keep himself from thinking of it. When he woke from such a dream, he would always hope for something monumental to happen in his life, something that would overwrite that memory. He wasn’t sure exactly what, but he thirsted for something new.

As he rose from bed, the seventeen-year-old glanced at the only decoration in his small, empty room- a single green glove plated with thin armor, that he’d hung on a nail in the wall. Apparently, the Teutonic Knight had placed the glove in his hands while he was unconscious that day. Even now, he still recalled the feeling of awe he had when woke up, clasping the glove in both hands.

A knight…

What does it mean to be…

“Cedric, why are you taking so long? The crops come first before anything else in the morning, this hasn’t changed in years.”

His father called to him in a low, monotone voice, bringing him back to reality.

That’s right…

Always the same…

Father…never changes.

He quickly headed out to put his shoes on, while attempting to mat down the perpetually stuck up hair on the left side of his head.

As he plowed the fields, Cedric bore a melancholy that contrasted the vigor he put into his work.

Of course, even if he hadn’t slept at all, his body would always wake up in time to get the fields plowed by sunrise. On top of that, he would never dare let out a yawn in front of his father, who had always made a point to coach him on his etiquette. He used to wonder why he needed to practice sound etiquette, as they were not nobles like his best friend Mel-who was far from having good manners, but not near as bad as Quentle, a fellow orphan who lived in the Market Town slums in a house full of rowdy blacksmiths.

Naturally, he never got much in the way of explanation from his father, and it wasn’t like he taught him etiquette of High Town where the nobles lived. What he was taught was the most basic of manners, with an emphasis on respectful modesty.

“You shouldn’t make a commotion of yourself.”

“Never reach your arms out too far.”

“Just do as you’re expected to. That is your duty as a Teuton.”

“Be a respectful man, and that will be enough to repay me for taking you in.”

“You only need not be a burden to anyone, including me.”

“Hahhhhhh…”

Making sure his father wasn’t nearby, Cedric let out a big sigh as he wiped his brow.

Recalling the biting words that always kept him in what felt like a very small room, Cedric upped the pace of his work.

In the last six years, his work ethic had grown to something tremendous, as he took his sense of duty seriously-due mostly to his father’s words and general attitude toward him. However, the event that triggered this profound sense of duty just happened to be what was weighing particularly on his mind this morning.

Thanks to the dream he’d had, he couldn’t shake the nagging reminder of his bout of sickness at the age of eleven. It was an experience he tried tirelessly to forget. His father would give him the necessary treatment, and left him alone after that. He vividly remembered watching him leave the room without a word, wanting more than anything for him to just stay and comfort him.

Up until that point, the naïve boy had deeply admired his father, understanding the burden he placed on himself by taking him in. After that hellish incident, that admiration turned into a distant feeling of respect, which grew a desire deep within himself to earn his respect in turn.

He didn’t entirely understand this yearning, but he knew that it was what brought on his sense of duty. He’d always kept this sense of duty, and was scared to make decisions that went outside of the responsibilities he held. His father took him in as an orphan when he didn’t have to. He would be raised without a proper home without that. He would be like Quentle who, like him had also lost his parents shortly after his birth, and lived in the blacksmith shop as a worker. He was grateful for at least having this parental figure in his life.

It was a sense of responsibility, and a bit of a sense of guilt that kept him working towards becoming a respected Teuton, and hopefully someday a respected soldier. Even though his father was not a father to him, the respect and admiration he had for him was enough to keep him from acting out of place.

That is, until he had reached preparation schooling, the path every young boy took to becoming either a soldier, a scholar, or a worker.

If he had to guess, it would probably be due to the longer schooling hours, and effectively, less free time. He’d always wake up early to help his father with the crops and other daily work. After that, he’d attend his historic and cultural classes until mid-afternoon. Then came training. Archery, sword art, and physicality sessions. By the time they were done, sunset would soon arrive and he would return to the village for the evening.

But being spry young seventeen-year-old boys, Cedric, Quentle, and Mel grew bored of the daily routine. To add some fun to their constant preparation training, they would sneak out at night, slip past the guards, and hold severe games that tested their physical capabilities. His father had likely become aware of this, but as expected he took the hands off approach and stayed uninvolved, probably for as long as nothing bad would come of it.

Of course, this bugged Cedric more than anything, but there was nothing he could do about it. Being a rebellious teenager had no room for growth within the small room that his sense of duty kept him in.

Instead of actively rebelling, he blew off steam by going out at night. This made his small room feel a little bit more comfortable at least, though it remained without color or ornament.

Even then, he sometimes got brave enough to slightly pester his father, out of a mixture of curiosity and frustration.

“Say, Father, is it true the older you get the harder it is to wake up from your sleep?”

Cedric inquired with a half smirk, trotting behind his father on the way back to Village Town.

“That’s nonsense, Cedric. Don’t humor things that are clearly nonsense.”

“B-but ya know, sometimes I have to wake yo-

“Do I need to explain what nonsense means for you to understand, Cedric?”

“Ah-o-okay..”

Most of their exchanges went like this, though this was one of the livelier ones he’d get every now and then. He couldn’t help but appreciate such a simple thing.

After returning home to eat and clean up, Cedric threw on his white dress shirt and pants, and draped his emerald green, robe-like vest over his neck sloppily.

“Good day, Father,” Cedric sounded out robotically, slipping on his thin black shoes made from pigskin.

“Make sure to be properly dressed by the time you get in town.”

“You have a fine day as well, Father!”

Before the silent grouch could shoot an annoyed look his way from the dining table, Cedric filed out of the door, shutting it behind him and breaking out into a light run toward Castle Town.

Before long he passed by the primary schooling center he’d gone to as a child, stirring up a bitter nostalgia.

When his glance fell upon the double doors he once burst through, he automatically averted his eyes. He looked out beyond the repaired wall, to the sky-or, to where the sky should have been.

Instead of a blue sky filled with white clouds and a bright sun, Cedric’s world was in fact covered by a vast wall of gray fog-long referred to as the Mist Dome.

The sky had been this way all along, ever since several years before he was born.

Nobody seemed to know why it was this way, but those who were old enough to remember the blue sky that disappeared twenty years ago described it as a very free and colorful sight.

To Cedric, this gray world was the norm. There was no other sky for him to dream about, so this one was good enough.

However, Cedric looked at the dome with excitement today, as Master Gambell’s long history session would supposedly touch on ‘The Day Left in Gray’, something rarely discussed.

Staring at the mysterious dome as he ran, the boy thought keenly about his aspirations, looking forward to learning new things that could help him in his search for something more.

“Now everyone, please quietly take your seats,” Master Gambell rang out politely.

The middle-aged, spectacle-wearing man patiently rested his elbow on his wooden podium, smoothing out his thick, neatly groomed beard.

Meanwhile, the all boy class was anything but quiet, shuffling their stools around to their desks in a clamor.

“Say, Cedric, I’ll bet you’re excited for today’s session, eh?”

This scrappy looking short haired boy taking a seat next to him was none other than Quentle, one of Cedric’s best friends. He was a rather frivolous boy who often spoke carelessly, and paid no mind to things like personal space or being sensitive to one’s personal hang ups. Knowing this, Cedric figured he was being insulted somehow, but he wasn’t sure exactly how.

“Well isn’t everyone excited Quentle? This is a rather intriguing topic to learn about, isn’t it?”

The proper sounding boy in front of them turned his head to chime in.

“Ah shut up Mel. Go on, rich boys should face the front like good rich boys.”

“Repeating rich boys like that just makes you sound like you don’t have anything intelligent to say..”

“Ahh this is why I hate you rich boy-

“See? Rich boy, rich boy, rich boy, it’s all you ever-

“Oy, wait a sec, Quentle, why are you asking me in particular?” Cedric inquired impatiently.

“Huh? Of course I would, you warhead!”

Cedric had, at one point, made a single comment regarding his interest in becoming a Teutonic Knight in the army, and Quentle, being who he was, decided it was going to be a running joke to spite him.

Of course, neither Cedric or Mel understood what he was getting at, and therefore stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“ Eh? Wait, do both of you not realize the main topic today isn’t about the dome?”

“Huh?” Cedric and Mel sounded off in unison.

“Hahh, you were both nodding off at the end of the last class, weren’t you?”

“………”

“Gahh, what a waste of a good upbringing. You two are useless.”

“Ah, excuse me there, sir. I’ll have you know I never actually fall asleep in class; I doze off with a completely straight face.”

Cedric had indeed perfected this technique. He couldn’t do something so disrespectful to his teacher, after all.

“Yep, I was completely out.”

“Get a grip, rich boy!” Quentle and Cedric sounded off in unison.

“…hmph. Anyway, aren’t you a diligent one, Quentle the ruffian?

“Ohh, that’s right, paying attention all the way through, what a good natured boy!”

Cedric joined Mel, plastering a smug smirk on his face in Quentle’s direction.

“Geh! S-shutup! And don’t call me a ruffian, rich boy!”

“Alright class, that’s quite enough. Time to settle in now, if you would. Ah, Quentle, shut your damn mouth.”

“What the hell Gambell?! Why just me?!”

As the class snickered, Master Gambell opened up his notebook and began.

“Well then, today we’ll be discussing two major topics. First, the Mist Dome we live under and its history, and second, the story of the very first Teutonic Heir to the Sword, also known as the first Teutonic Knight.”

Cedric’s attention shot toward Gambell in an instant.

This would be a session that he wouldn’t dream of dozing off in.

“Well then, I’d like to start with the Mist Dome that formed over these Islands of Molovar twenty years ago. So…let’s just get this out of the way now-what kind of rumors have all of you heard about the Mist Dome’s sudden appearance? “

“The Gods came to trap us here and harvest us!”

“All the rain clouds in the world came here and froze so that we’d get hungry and desperate and kill each other for food!”

“Ah..hahh. Kaolo, Farum, the way you say it sounds stupid, but the second theory actually isn’t completely moronic. The lack of rain clouds within the dome could be explained by the dome absorbing the water vapor. This leads us to why we very rarely see rain, which is why farming families such as yourselves must work so hard to prepare the fields for the next rain. However, can anyone explain how-

“There is a cloud, that’s why we get rain.”

“Ohh, how surprising, what more do you know about this, Quentle?”

“I heard it at the shipyard. There’s fisherman that have seen a huge silver cloud. When it appeared, the normally still ocean became wavy, and wind would actually blow, creating a storm so strong that they barely made it back in one piece.”

“Mm, indeed, you seem to be quite well informed, for a ruffian.”

“Oy, Gambell!”

“Here on Takanova we have never officially seen the cloud pass over, but we have witness testimony that it has come somewhat near our island many times, hence the rainfall three or four times a year. You won’t hear anything ground-breaking from me regarding its appearance or what it means as I know nothing more than what you’ve likely already heard, just like the Mist Dome. However, there are certain theories that can be useful in attaining a greater understanding of what the Dome means for us, both our state, and our country of islands. Therefore, allow me to share with you my own theory. To begin, we must venture back to the beginning of Takanova’s story.”

The class began to grow restless at once.

Cedric gulped, silently waiting. He’d been diligently listening in wait for this part, not because of his sense of duty, but due to his vague ambition.

“So, going back some ten generations ago, we Teutons were still in the process of discovering this vast, beautiful side of the island. At the same time on the other side of the island the neighboring Shlanks were beginning to explore beyond the marshes and into the vast mountainous region.

While the Teutons eagerly scoured the area’s resources, quickly building villages and a castle, the Shlanks journeyed through the treacherous mountains, developing their weaponry and battle strength due to the swarms of Giant Ant Beasts. After one of our sentry forces returned with news of the Shlanks, the first king decided to build a dojo and begin combat training to prepare for a possible fight.

After several weeks of training, five men began to grow much stronger than the rest, and continued to compete vigorously with each other. Once the men felt comfortable with their strength, they were each given a group of men to lead in training. These men formed the original Four Generals.

“But Master, didn’t you say it was five men?”

“Indeed, Cedric,” Gambell nodded, somewhat forebodingly, but did not explain.

“Eventually, the king felt confident in his army’s capability to defend the people, and decided to send a group of around fifty normal citizens to meet the inbound Shlanks.

Bringing a bounty of good food and resources, the group met the Shlanks not far into the mountains where they had apparently long since set up camp.

To their delight, the Shlanks welcomed their hospitality, and even returned their good intentions. For several weeks, the group indulged in merrymaking, and eventually began to explore the mountains further north together. By this time, some two-hundred Teutons had joined the camp of around five-hundred Shlanks.

Due to the difference in numbers, the king had sent one of his five generals, along with his men, to blend in with the group. General Garik acted as the hidden leader of the group, sending reports back to the castle through his men. Despite taking his job seriously, Garik enjoyed himself more than he ever had, and got along particularly well with one of the Shlanks, a strong warrior named Velagoras. The two drank together often, held knife throwing games and wrestling tournaments, and hunted together. It was the effort of these two that tamed the beasts known as Tragoons, initiating their loyal attitude toward us that apparently still holds today.  Garik’s men had never seen him so happy before, and even described Velagoras to the king as his first friend.

And then, one day, around a month into the successful meeting, Garik was ordered to return to the castle immediately.

He made haste, riding the Tragoon he and Velagoras had first tamed.

Upon arrival at the castle’s courtyard, Garik was greeted by a large group of important Teuton officials and elders, as well as the other four generals and their men-all surrounding the king and three ghost like figures.”

The class collectively gasped. Cedric stayed quite, but also knew what Gambell was referring to.

“Yes, that is correct. The god-like Sages that we revere, who gave us our collective “Teuton Will”, had come to meet the king, and presented to him a large square relic. It was a fantastic, green emerald, and Garik was immediately drawn to it.

This Green Relic is a symbol of the Will of your people, which is to cherish and protect your land. Take this gift, and use it according to your One Will.

Those were the only words the Sages left with the king before departing.

In a clamor, the officials argued into the night on what should be done with the Green Relic and how to go about enacting their Will-something they seemed to accept very naturally.

Having lost interest, Garik returned to the campsite in the mountains late that night. When he asked around, he found Velagoras was not there. It seemed he had been called back to the Shlank home front, just as he had.

He waited over a week, but Velagoras did not return. All of his men had apparently gone with him, and most of the mixed group had recently left in separate expeditions, so there was only about a hundred left at the camp.

Eventually, Garik was once again summoned to the castle. This time, he was lead directly into the king’s chambers.

The King, surrounded by his closest officials, held something covered out to Garik.

What Garik had been given was a long, extravagantly green sword, with sleek emeralds encrusted in its fine hilt.

What King Nova had decided that night after Garik left, was to call upon the town’s most skilled blacksmiths, and from a shard of the Green Relic, forge a sword.

The king called the sword ‘The Great Green Emerald’, and entrusted it to Garik-naming him Takanova’s first Heir to the Sword, and the first Teutonic Knight. The following morning, a grand ceremony was held in the courtyard to establish his status of Heir, as well as his knighthood. He was then bestowed with sleek green robes, and a thick green cape.

Hoping to share his news with Velagoras, Garik returned to the campsite.

However, what he found there, was….

…..tragedy.”

The class murmured quietly. Cedric and Quentle looked at each other in shock.

“The campsite had been completely ransacked. The hundred or so people…

….had all been murdered.

If you are all this shocked, imagine what it was like for Garik to see this. Both Teuton and Shlank alike, woman and children, even newborn babies, nearly all of his own men, all dead. Killed in cold blood.”

The class went completely silent.

“I know this is a lot to take in. After all, there is a reason we wait to tell this story to children until they have all reached the age of seventeen. Do try to bear with it.”

Cedric tried to remain collected, but his memories were resurfacing and joining with this new knowledge in a gruesome way. His fists were shaking, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He glanced over at Quentle, to see tears already silently falling down his cheeks, a violent expression on his face.

He didn’t know why something that happened so long ago would make them so very angry.

However, he had to listen through to the end.

“So, upon seeing this horrid spectacle, Garik raced on tragoon-back toward the northern mountains, where the expedition groups had set out. Convinced that an army had invaded from another island, he sent the only one of his men who he’d happened to have with him, back to town to warn the king. He didn’t care that he was alone and didn’t know the enemy he faced. He wanted only to save the rest of the camp.

After a day’s travel across the rigid terrain, he finally found a small campsite. However, he was unfortunately too late once more. In his rage, he followed the scent of blood further up into the mountains…eventually running into the perpetrators.

“Velagoras…”

“Correct, Quentle.”

Cedric had come to the same conclusion, but was too busy trying to control his emotions.

Quentle, however, did not care.

“Well, it wasn’t Velagoras he ran into, but a group of his men he recognized instantly.

The same men he’d drank and wrestled with, slaughtering both Teuton and Shlank people before his eyes.

His rage overflowed, and he drew the Green Emerald and eliminated all but one of the men.

The lone man, in a crazed voice, revealed everything.

Velagoras had been summoned back home for the exact same reason he had.

According to the man, the Sages had also visited their leader, and presented them a large red relic. The words given to them:

This Red Relic is a symbol of the Will of your people, which is to cherish and protect your bloodline. Take this gift, and use it according to your One Will.

The Shlanks, upon receiving the relic, had the same idea as the Teutons. A sword was forged-the Red Ruby-and, as you might’ve guessed, the Heir chosen to wield it was none other than Velagoras.”

“But..that still doesn’t explain…”

“Yes, Berd, do be patient. You see, it seems behind the scenes the Shlanks decided that their newly precious bloodline was in danger of being tainted. That is, because of…”

“The campsite!”

“Correct, Farum. After more than a month of living together, things kinds of things do happen.”

“So just like that they moved to eliminate each member of the campsite?!”

“Yes, Quentle, that is correct. Do try to control your anger, this is an unchangeable story. Anyway, once Garik found out the truth, he raced across the mountains in search of Velagoras. His aim was to kill every last Shlank warrior, and protect every member of the campsite that still lived. For several days he rode the tragoon, stopping assaults from Velagoras’ men and gathering members of the campsite into a single, hidden cave where he left them with several fierce tragoons and equipped them with weapons.

After sending an able bodied man on horseback to report the truth to the castle and request help, Garik set his sights further north, where there were at least three-hundred and fifty members of the campsite unaccounted for, broken off into seven groups. Since they were the first groups to have set out nearly a month prior, he knew they would take some time to reach. The first day, he reached a group, defeated some thirty Shlank warriors, armed the campsite members, and directed them to the cave along with his tragoon. The second day, the tragoon came back to him just as he had found another camp and defended it from more than fifty warriors.

He repeated this process for seven long days. The number of Shlank warriors grew with each day, to the point where it was clear these were not just Velagoras’ men, but soldiers sent from the Shlank homefront for this sole purpose of eliminating the campsite members. He and the tragoon worked tirelessly to protect the people of the campsite, and on the seventh day, he faced an all-out army.

During the fight, in which he relied heavily on the magnificent power of the Green Emerald, the two men he’d sent to report to the castle came to him on horseback, with urgent news:

The Teuton officials had heard the whole story, and had decided not to take any action. They thought that, if this was all true, then Velagoras would ultimately make a move on Teuton soil. For that, they needed to be prepared, to fortify their own walls, and therefore had decided to leave the mountains to Garik, their strongest Knight.

Upon telling him this, the two men attempted to fight but could not handle the chaotic one-sided battle like he could, and were killed defending the final camp.

On the verge of despair, Garik roared his heart out, and continued to fight the endless fight alone. It’s said that at that time, he ascended beyond that of a man, and became a War God.

Eventually, he stood victorious, submerged in blood along with the tragoon. The campsite members, the largest group yet at around seventy people, cheered loudly for him from atop a cliff safe from the battlefield. All they could do was fire a limited number of arrows to assist, but they had emerged victorious together.

He had finally accounted for the last group, and with the help of the tragoon led them back to the cave where the others were waiting safely. Upon arrival, both Garik and his tragoon could no longer stay conscious.

When Garik awoke, he was on the tragoon’s back, entering the newly developing Castle Town, along with more than three hundred campsite members.

As they arrived, there was a clear panic spreading throughout Castle Town. Garik rushed inside the castle doors, where another bloodbath lay before him.

This time, it was only about twenty or so officials and guards, but what shocked him down to his core was what he saw crushed into the stone ground-

-tragoon footprints

An official hurriedly explained what had happened:

A man on a tragoon, wielding a long red sword, had burst into the castle lobby just an hour prior, and began killing everyone in sight.

After a few minutes the four generals burst onto the scene, and drove the man out of the castle. Along with their personal armies, the generals chased the man past an outlying village that, unbeknownst to the busy officials until it was too late, had been burnt to a crisp just before the attack on the castle. Their chase had apparently led them into the forest in front of the Volcano of Disasters, and there had been no news since.

Wasting no time, Garik and the tragoon dashed out for the forest.

Upon entering, there seemed to be a body for every tree in the forest.

Eventually he came into the center of the forest, where there was a wide clearing.

In the clearing, the bodies of three of the generals lay in separate corners.

In the middle, the man known as Velagoras wiped his red blade clean as the fourth general, who had always been kind to Garik, dropped to the ground.

When Velagoras looked upon Garik, he seemed to have no care in the world.

It is unknown whether any words were exchanged between the two, possibly because Garik himself refused to recount their meeting in detail. The two merely clashed swords in the middle, their tragoons destroying the ground under foot as they darted around the clearing continuously exchanging blows. In a sea of red and green light, Velegoras eventually fell from his tragoon.

Suffering a fatal wound, he crashed into the earth, his sword sinking deep into the ground.

Garik jumped from his tragoon and, without mercy, delivered the final blow to his only friend.

With the fight over, Garik returned to the Castle Town, where he demanded the wounded, worn down people of the campsite be taken care of.

Once some time passed and we were able to rebuild and re-establish an army, the people of the campsite led widespread expeditions throughout the mountains for the purpose of expanding and defining our borders. Since they knew the mountains, it took little time to figure out where the borders needed to be drawn.

This is how the Wall of Takanova came into existence, connecting the two clifftops near the marshes on the other side of the mountains. After that, we gradually worked on the stone wall bordering our side of Takanova, minus the mountainous north and south ends.

And that, boys, is the story of Garik, the first Sword Heir. The story that began our Will to protect our land, our conflict with the Shlanks that had been unending up until this long Wolverine War, as well as many other traditions. It is said that Garik lived out the rest of his life at the Wall, protecting the mountains that the campsite members ultimately resided in, from the endless Shlank attacks, until the day he died.”

“So..Garik was basically the one who initiated the Wall as a stronghold military base for us?”

“That is correct Kaolo, the Wall of Takanova embodies everything Garik lived for. And now the Prince has taken the reins of the Wall’s army to keep the silently watching Shlanks in check. Of course, threatening them with the power of the Green Emerald, even though it has since been sealed away due to its overwhelming power, which is a topic for another day.”

Gambell seemed to be done with the story, causing a small clamor in the class.

“Ah man, I could’ve used the abridged version of that..”

“Shut up, just because rich boys like you probably already know the story doesn’t mean we do!”

Mel turned and shrugged at Quentle, a smug look plastered on his face again.

“What about the red sword?”

“Oh, interested, Quentle?” Master Gambell inquired sarcastically.

“The sword remains sealed where Velagoras planted it, in the ground in the middle of the forest that you aren’t allowed to go near. Now it’s surrounded by a pond though, thanks to the tragoons taking chunks out of the earth.”

“That sounds really cool…”

“Let me reiterate, Quentle, that none of you are allowed in the forest. Especially you.”

“Hahh?”

“But to move on, that actually brings me to my follow up discussion, concerning one the traditions I mentioned: the procession for the succeeding Sword Heir.”

Cedric’s attention shot toward Gambell once more.

This time, Mel’s did as well.

“Haha, well because, what coincidence is it that I’d have all three of the prospective Heirs in this class!”

The class’ stares rotated between Cedric, Mel, and Quentle.

The three of them looked at each other, exchanging awkward smirks.

“So, my three oh-so-qualified candidates, I’d like to hear your opinions on the relationship between the community and the Heir, something that was established long ago and has been mostly prevalent ever since. Do you think the Teuton governing system handled the issue at hand the right way?”

“I’m not answering because it feels like you’re mocking us.”

“Speak for yourself, ruffian fraud.”

“Don’t just tack insults on to ruffian like it’s clever, jackass!”

“Anyways, isn’t it obvious, Master?” Mel ignored Quentle’s banter with an arrogant brushing motion over his back.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s only right that the Heir fought alone in that case. He was trusted with the sword and the mountain group, while the Teutons at home had a duty to fortify their own walls. It’s the basic formality of our Will, is it not?”

“What? Are you stupid? Wasn’t the moral of the story basically that we need to fight together as one?”

At last, Cedric couldn’t stay silent. He’d held his tongue out of respect through the entire story, but he’d finally lost it.

Mel turned back, a look of genuine shock on his face. Quentle just looked at him dumbly.

“I mean, how is it right that Garik had to fight completely alone against hundreds of enemies? The king and his officials outright abandoned him along with hundreds of their own people! Couldn’t you realize the entire reason the Heir was established was probably so that they could have an easy scapegoat?! It’s like they knew something like that was going to happen and hoped both parties would just wipe each other out! Then they’d glorify him as a hero and throw the next Heir out to the wolves when the time came! There’s no relationship between community and Heir at all there! That isn’t right at all! What’s the point of our Will to protect our land if we don’t protect our own people?!”

The class stared in silent shock at the fuming Cedric. Even Master Gambell looked dumbfounded.

“…uhh, ya know, I know what ya mean Cedric, I mean, what you’re saying feels right for sure…but I think the king and his officials saw that perspective and were forced to look past it. I mean, they were right after all, weren’t they? If they’d sent the Four Generals into the mountains, Velagoras would have taken the castle, and killed the king. They had to fortify at home, so I think it was a strategic move that involved trusting Garik to take care of the mountains.”

Cedric shot his angry glance at Quentle, who wore a surprisingly honest look.

“I mean, you can’t deny that they made the most logical choice for the sake of the homeland, can you?” Mel spat out very sharply.

“………”

Everyone stared on at Cedric, waiting.

“No…I can’t. Of course we weren’t there so we can’t know the full details…. but…but the crux of the story is that the incident established the standard for how the community and Heirs interact. What kind of partnership exists with one side foisting all of their problems on the other just because they’re capable of more than most?”

“Well you could also look at it this way-the people showed their trust in Garik to protect the community from the outside. It was only natural for him to shoulder the burden alone, since the community showed their support for him by relying on him.”

“That’s not right, Quentle. From that story, there wasn’t any support. They didn’t give him any support before the incident, and refused him support during the incident. They never even properly communicated with him, nor did they seek his opinion on the issue! Can’t you think about this from Garik’s perspective? Do you think he agreed with all of this?”

“Well, we can’t know that either. But… I think the problem is that you’re only seeing this from Garik’s perspective, Cedric..”

Cedric swallowed any words that had been on the way out. Quentle’s biting words stifled him, and forced him to look down, flustered.

“Well, what an interesting discussion, indeed,” Gambell said this, returning to his polite smile.

“I think we should all calm down and consider that there is no right answer here. This is something the community still debates today, which is why I like to hold discussions on it in my class. So, I’d like to hear from the rest of you-what do you all think about their answers?”

Farum’s answer was along the lines of Mel’s, taking the bare facts as the center of the issue.

Berd’s answer was similar, though he seemed to think there was some sort of undocumented contract from the beginning.

Kaolo’s response was the only vocal one that leaned toward Cedric’s view. His reasoning wore the same tone as Quentle’s, saying it felt right but maybe wasn’t logical to expect anything more. However, in the end, he ended up agreeing with Cedric that the dynamic between community and Heir just wasn’t right.

Only several other classmates spoke up, but none had much more to say other than “Yeah I think Mel is right, there are some tough decisions that just have to be made”. In the end there was only two other boys, aside from Kaolo, that agreed with Cedric.

Suddenly, the castle bell resounded loudly.

“Well alright, it looks like we’ve run out of time, and my theory of the dome will have to wait for tomorrow.”

Geraint and Jorge, the two bulkiest boys in the class, gave Cedric a reassuring nod as they filed out of the classroom. Cedric gave a short wave, silently thanking them for their support as he began gathering his things to go to cultural class.

Some of the class had stuck behind, awkwardly eyeing the three boys as if anticipating some sort of tension. However-

“Alright now ya scum, let’s go learn about some farming and marketing! Gotta get you louses ready for the working life since I’ll be the one out protecting the peace of the dome!..hehe.”

Quentle was the same as ever.

Thanks to him, Cedric no longer had to worry about how to face Mel.

Instead, the two looked at each other and began snorting with laughter, breaking any possible tension to the surprise of their classmates.

Having been together for years, this was natural for them.

After cultural class came lunchtime, which meant a much needed hour of free time. This was where the boys would split into different groups, going to eat in various places. There were some of the (noble)students that would go all the way into High Town for an expensive meal at a tavern and to try and mingle with the female students, and others that would travel the ten minutes into Market Town to buy a cheap meal from one of the many food vendor stands.

This was where Cedric would split off from the group, as Mel, Quentle, Farum, Berd, and Kaolo would head for the Market Town stands, while Cedric returned home.

In a hurry, he whipped up a large pot of rice and threw it, along with a bunch of potatoes and onions into a large basket. Wrapping it with a piece of cloth, he headed back out in a light run into Castle Town.

It wasn’t as if he had no money, of course. His father did give him a small, obligatory wage to pay for meals and such. Cedric simply saved that money for other purposes.

Passing the school and the well-developed shopping district, he arrived at the castle.

Every day, the sight left him in marvel. The tall stone walls, carefully crafted into windowed watch towers, were a thing of beauty, matched by the well-groomed grass and trees on every side of the castle walls. There was something very calming about the castle’s surroundings, which was a big reason he came by every day.

Walking briskly through the castle’s outer yard, Cedric carefully avoided the various stationed guards with ease. Arriving at the back corner of the castle, he hopped over a stone ledge on the right of the pathway leading to the castle’s back courtyard, and snuck down its hilly side.

Upon reaching the side of the small gate leading into the courtyard, Cedric reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin. Flicking it in the air in the direction of the guard stationed at the gate, he continued on in a crouch.

Behind him, the guard, without turning his head or body an inch, caught the coin in his left hand. Letting his arm drop in a mechanical motion, he then gave a discreet thumbs up with his right hand.

With a smirk, Cedric continued to the point where the guard wouldn’t see him if he hadn’t actually known about him, and jumped back onto the path.

He was now at the entrance to the courtyard, a beautiful grassy paradise lush with various greenhouses and trees. He didn’t have to worry about being spotted at this point despite not being of high enough rank to be here, since the only people who visited the back courtyard in the middle of the day was a group of ten low level soldiers. Therefore, he waltzed right on through the fascinating greenery to the middle of the courtyard, a large opening decorated by a manmade pond with mesmerizing fountains at each of its four corners. At the circular pond’s center lay the courtyard’s greatest feature- a magnificently crafted white stone sculpture of none other than the first Sword Heir, holding up the Great Green Emerald in a victorious pose.

Cedric stared into the bold looking face of Garik, which was partially covered by his parted mid length hair. Water splashed onto the sculpture’s stone feet, coming in an arch from the fountains. As the water splashed, small drops of water bounced onto the face and arms of the fake Garik. Normally Cedric would gaze admirably at this site. However, today, something flashed before his eyes as he looked on.

For a moment, the sprinkling water appeared scarlet red, as if blood was slowly splattering all over the stone Garik’s body.

This is what it must have been like…

Shaking his head free of the illusion, Cedric trotted over to the fountain’s stone ledge, where the group of around ten soldiers casually lounged about.

“Hoy, Cedo! You made it!”

“Hey there, Captain Ralin!”

“Ah, Cedric. Welcome back!”

“I’m back! Good afternoon, Captain Galgi!”

“Haha, I told you to quit calling us Captain, Cedo! It’s embarrassing, we’re only captains of our five man Go!”

This was the harsh truth, after all. The two were named the leaders of their respective Go, a five-man squad of infantryman that stuck together tightly on the battlefield in order to keep formations in order.

“Even then, you’re still captains, so I should be respectful as a student!” Cedric replied cheerfully.

Galgi chuckled, shaking his head.

“Anyway, let’s dig in! Hey Beidin, Peter, Roz, Jean, Filipe, Esca, Brita, Simon, potatoes and onions sound good?”

“Uohhh~!” the men that fought alongside Galgi and Ralin cheered, opening the big basket and dividing the plentiful portions evenly.

Cedric got his own portion, and after receiving a wooden bowl and spoon from the men, sat down on the inside ledge of the fountain and began eating.

The men sat around leisurely, breaking off into idle chatter amongst themselves, while Galgi and Ralin sat down next to Cedric, grinning.

“Seriously, Cedo, the food from your farm is always the best!”

The tall and burly Ralin spoke with his mouth full, his wild hair bouncing to and fro.

“Well at the least, it isn’t any surprise that Gadric Cintog has been the castle’s personal vegetable dealer for years,” the smaller but well-built Galgi said in his usual matter-of-fact tone, a way of speaking that had always interested Cedric. It was almost as if he would say everything in earnest, which matched his serious demeanor, including his neatly combed hair-always combed to the right side.

“Yeah, Cedo’s dad is pretty great! Too bad Cedo won’t be taking the family business over, what with being the next Sword Heir and all!”

“Ha? No, that isn’t”-

“Don’t worry, me and Galg will take over for ya when the time comes! We’re only eight years older, so we’ll be around for a while!”

Galgi chuckled with his mouth full of water, waving his hand in disagreement.

“haha come on, it isn’t like it’s anywhere close to being decided yet.”

“It may as well be as far as we’re concerned, Cedric,” Galgi warmly put as he pat his chest while coughing.

Cedric smirked, shaking his head.

“Always remember, the Galgi and Ralin squads will always have your back.”

“UuohHH!!” The men all cheered, raising their glasses.

Cedric looked away, his smirk turning into a genuine smile.

“So, uh…anything new happening with the Wolverines?”

“Ah, not really. It’s just one nighttime bombardment after another,” Galgi sighed.

“Yeah, and we’re a part of the oh-so-special infantry that gets to battle it out on the beach, in between all the cannon fire.”

“Haha, but lately we’ve been rackin up a lot of points! That northern beach is a popular target, but the Wolverines need to learn to wake up real early to get one over on us!”

“But Captain, you have a harder time waking up then anyone I’ve ever-

“We’re a brick wall defense force I tell ya! And today we got us some food from Cedric’s farm in our bellies, so we’re gonna be even more unbeatable than usual!”

“UOhhhH!!”

“You’ll never learn how dangerous it is to say things like that out loud, will you Ral?”

“HA! The only flag we’ll see tonight is a burnt Wolverine flag! …Or a white flag!”

“Uh, Captain, a white flag could be ours too, when you put it like-

“Brick wall squad, uohhhH!”

“U-uohhhHHH!”

“So Cedric, how’d morning session go?”

“Ehhhh..”

Cedric explained the intense discussion of the Heir’s story.

“Haha, sounds just like you and Mel!”

“Hmm, Quentle on the other hand…”

“Huh? What about Quentle?”

Cedric had barely caught Galgi’s murmur.

“Ah, just…I’d have expected him to agree with you, as passionate as he is.”

“Quentle is a weird kiddo, isn’t he Cedo?”

“Hahh..I guess I was a bit surprised by it, too.”

“I mean, you two are pretty alike, after all.”

“We are? I don’t really see it though.”

“Yeah, I’ve always thought it was odd that you and Quentle were such good friends, since you’re alike in a lot of ways! Usually people with similar attitudes and goals are enemies, not best friends!”

“Yeah, and you even look like you could be brothers, or cousins!

“Haha, I never really thought about all that, I guess.”

“But ya know, I wonder if you’ll be able to stay friends once you become the Heir, Cedo!”

“Even though it could be him just as easily as it could be me...”

Cedric wore a slightly embarrassed smirk.

“Well then hurry and go pull the Red Sword before that sneak gets to it! Blacksmiths have the special power of wielding things normal people can’t!”

The three of them laughed as they ate, carrying on like this until Cedric had to return to the schooling center.

After attending a rigorous physical training class with Master Feng, who was a fanatic when it came to intense obstacle courses, Cedric made his way into the darkest, most unvisited corner of the building-  where his daily personal training class took place.

“Come on in, young Cedric, you don’t have to knock every time, you know?”

Cedric opened the old worn down door slowly, fearing as usual that it might break if he wasn’t careful.”

“I’ll presume you’re warmed up?”

“Ah-yes, Master Valblin.”

The old man, whose monstrously large frame and tacky robes never seemed to match his long grey hair and beard like that of an official, swung a wooden sword repetitively at the air without looking Cedric’s way.

“Were you adequately pushed to your limits today?”

“Yes sir, Master Feng took much care in throwing ice water on me anytime I’d look to be slacking even a little, so I was able to beat even Geraint and Jorge this time,” Cedric answered with a stone face and thumb up.

“Ohhohoho, what a splendid subordinate young Feng has turned out to be, it’s thanks to him you’ve gotten to be so scrappy and wildly aggressive.”

“But sir, isn’t Master Feng already in his thirtie-

“Ohohhh?”

“Yes, sir, a mere baby such as myself hopes to someday be like the young Master Feng.”

“Hmmm, I’m going to have fun knocking that cheeky tone out of your mouth, hoho.”

“But sir, I believe my tone is as respectful as ev-

“Shut up and grab your weapon already, will ya?”

Not wasting anymore time, Cedric took his vest off and retrieved a wood sword off the rack on the wall, and took a few practice swings.

Stepping out into the middle of the spacious training room where they did battle daily, Cedric waved the sword out in front of himself, his demeanor completely changed.

“Ohoho? A scarier face than usual, eh? I’m afraid your scary face won’t make up for your lack of power, hoho.”

Ignoring his taunt, Cedric shot in on Valblin’s left with a low stance and firm, angled grip on the wood sword, trying to score an undercutting strike.

Just as it seemed he’d land the blow on Valblin’s left torso, the old man suddenly twisted his body fluidly, and used a short, one handed swing to deflect Cedric’s sword away.

Continuing his twisting motion, the old man, who at some point had shifted his momentum to his right foot, swung his left leg around in a sweeping motion.

Cedric barely saw the incoming blow, but having been thrown off by the very precise counter strike, could only watch as Valblin’s foot struck the middle of his back.

“Gah!”

Flying forward, Cedric managed a sloppy front roll to keep from face planting.

Valblin was deceptively quick despite his overwhelming size and strength, and exceptionally skilled at masking his attacks like this. The man had a very refined, technical precision to go along with his power. He was simply too good at straight counters and overpowered offensive blows, so coming at him head on was out of the question. Therefore, his strategy was the same every day: dart at the old man from the side, striking at wild angles and trying to find a blind spot.

He had to work ten times harder than he would against Mel or Quentle in order to land a strike that merely equaled the output of Valblin’s. Most of those strikes would fail to give him any sort of advantageous position, and even when they did the old man would effortlessly knock his sword away at the last second.

Still, he would press on, with the thought that if he got inside his range of comfort, he could land at least a sidelong blow.

His persistent attacks continued, yielding no result yet again. He was beginning to get tired, and his arms, back, and face were throbbing from Valblin’s stinging counter attacks. Sensing that the session would end soon, whether by time constraint or his body giving out, Cedric went on one last wild attack.

Feinting to the left, he streaked by the old man’s left side once more. However, this time, he left space enough to allow himself to steer clear of any counters. Executing a diagonal slash that slightly deflected Valblin’s sword downward, Cedric continued his flight around the back of the man.

Knowing the old man’s superiority in a standup fight, Cedric then tried something insane. All he needed was an inch on the man for this attack, and he’d gotten it somehow as he seemed to react a bit late to his circling move, swiveling around with his sword at a low guard.

However, Cedric had been working exceptionally hard at doing one thing: slowly backing the old man into the corner of the room.

Instead of turning around to attempt a futile back stab, Cedric continued toward the wall, and leapt up with all of his strength.

Kicking sideways off of the right wall, and then making to kick off the left like a distorted stair step, he contorted his body to look down at Valblin, his sword gripped and ready.

As he kicked off the left, however, his left foot slightly slipped, decreasing his outward momentum.

As he looked down at the old man, he thought he might still be able to land a glancing blow across his right shoulder.

“Hoho?”

Of course, his expectations betrayed him.

The old man simply couldn’t be caught off guard that easily.

Sidestepping the sword, Valblin reached his left arm out, and grasped onto Cedric’s wrist.

“Ah-

With no time to think, he was pulled out of the air, and thrown directly into the skyward elbow Valblin had just raised.

His stomach felt like it was going to burst, and all the air seemed to escape from his body all at once.

“Kughhh!”

He immediately dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, where he curled up, gasping for air.

“Ohhohoh, well now, that ought to teach you not to ever do something so stupid again, eh?”

“Kuuuuuughhhhhh, Uuuuughhhhhhh, Kuuckkckkkkkhhh?”

The crushing blow had left him in a pitiful pile of himself. Once he’d finally found some air to take in, he started dry heaving so hard the blood vessels in his face popped one after another.

“You understand, do you? That trying something flashy like that on a real battlefield is the quickest and easiest way to get yourself killed?”

“Hgeeeeessgsshhhh ShiiiIhhhhRrrHhhh-

“Hoh! Good, now never present yourself so desperately before me again! This isn’t the way your father taught you.”

With that, Valblin hung his sword up, dumped the large basin of water he always prepared over Cedric’s head, and made for the door, shutting it with a very low, indistinct sigh while his eyes remained forward.

After some time, Cedric finally recovered, and drug himself to the wall where he slumped over.

“Hahhh, hahhh, that old b*****d…I swear… I’m gonna kick his a*s…so hard…one day…seriously.. He doesn’t even realize.. I resort to stunts like that because.. attacking him is… impossible.”

Getting up and kicking the water basin across the room, he trudged out of the dojo grumpily.

Out in the hallway, he carefully slunk along as he neared the main school hall. His current mission: make it to the apothecary’s room upstairs without being seen by anyone. Especially Mel or Quentle. They were likely at the end of their personal sessions as well, so it wouldn’t be a stretch for one of them to pop up.

This was somewhat of a daily routine as well. Cedric would get cuts, lesions, and bruises on his arms and face every day, so regular stops to get treated and receive a tub of medicinal cream were necessary.

Therefore, he climbed several flights of stairs, dripping water all the way, until he reached his destination.

As he opened the door, he heard a loud crash in the stair well below. Not wanting any part of whatever happened, he hurriedly shut the door and approached the apothecary, who was fast asleep at her desk.

“Umm.. Miss Tess, could I trouble you for a bit?”

Cedric only whispered, but the young bespectacled woman unstuck her face from the page of a book, and looked up with a surprisingly lively expression.

“Ah, Cedric, what a surprise to see you here today!”

The fair skinned twenty-something girl flashed her wonderful smile.

Even if it was usually a sarcastic smile, it was something that made him appreciate his daily beating, if only a little.

“Please don’t mock me, Miss Tess, it makes my wounds hurt worse.”

“Oh come on, they’re battle scars to be proud of though! Not everybody gets to train with the esteemed eccentric Headmaster!”

“Yes, that seems to be the case. However, I’m starting to question his training strategy lately, and it’s starting to make sense that I’m his first pupil since Master Feng.”

“Huh? His first?” Tess blinked at him, confused.

“I mean..that’s just what I’ve heard?”

“Hmmm, I guess Master Feng wasn’t a candidate, so he must not have had his expectations too high with him..”

She said quietly, looking off to the side.

“Huh?”

“Ah, nothing… anyway, I’ve got potion ready for you here. Let me go and get Selmy from the courtyard to make the cream!”

“Hahh, okay-

Just as Tess went to open the door, it burst open.

“Tess, it’s an emergency! This idiot fell down the stairs and his nose is pouring blood!”

Mel stood in the doorway, Quentle draped lazily over his shoulder grasping his nose, as Tess stared in shock.

“Noctor, is it bad? I won’t die will I?”

“Hahhh, no Quentle, you’ll be fine, as usual.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Tess, but this time the idiot didn’t fall on purpose. Actually, there was small puddles of water all over the stair well. You’d have to be an idiot not to see it, but unfortunately for Quentle here..”

“Hoy Mul, if I didn’t slib you would hab..”

“Doubt it..but really, who would leave all that water across the stair well like that?”

-drip-

-drip-

Cedric, who had just gotten done comfortably resting his hands on the back of his head and propping his feet up, quickly looked away while whistling as the three shot their glances at him.

“The culprit is completely unaffected!” Tess and Mel shouted together, while Quentle crumbled.

“I just started sweating a lot since I got here. It’s real foggy out today, and the window’s open, so the humidity-

“The sky’s always like that!”

“Ehh, well, Tess is gorgeous, so I was nervous..”

“H-mph, you’ll have to do better than that to flatter me, brat.”

“Ahh Cedrig, why are you trying to gill be? Is it battlefield bragtice? I didn’t know you were that zeriouz.”

“Why would I use slippery stairs to booby trap a real enemy?! Ah-that actually looks pretty bad, sorry Quentle. I didn’t think anyone stupid enough to slip would be left in the building.”

“No real remorse seems to be felt from the culprit.”

“Indeed, maybe I shouldn’t treat either of them today…”

“I don’t eben care about the baghanded comments, so blease just treat be at leazt.”

“Mm, okay then, I needed to go see Selmy either way, so I suppose I’ll prepare medicine for both of you.”

With that, Tess left the room, leaving the boys alone.

Quentle slumped over a stack of books, holding his nose back, and quickly seemed to doze off.

“It doesn’t seem like you have any injuries Mel, so why are you waiting?”

“Me? Well, I just wanted to stick around to see if we’ll plan on going to the ruins tonight?”

“Ohh..I don’t see why not?”

“Ha, as anxious as ever, I see. Even with both of you this beat up? Are you sure you can handle me at full strength? It’ll be boring for me to go easy on you, you know?”

“Gah shut up, you’re annoying. We’ll both be fine, and I’ll win just like I usually do.”

“Six out of ten matches, I’d say.”

“Yeah, matches where I’m by myself against you two. Whereas, you two rarely win when you’re the lonely man, right?”

“Yeah yeah..hmm, ‘lonely man’, huh…maybe we should start calling it ‘lonely heir’ from now on.”

Cedric ignored this, not wanting to get into that topic.

“Say, Cedric…how do you think we determine who the Heir is?”

Now, he had Cedric’s attention.

“Is it simply determined by our combat ability and capacity to grow? You would be the obvious answer in that case, for now at least, but should it really be that simple?”

Mel paused, as if waiting for an answer, but Cedric silently waited for him to continue.

“Or is it up to the majority of the people, the ever-evolving Group Will? I hate to say it but, the ruffian probably takes it in that case. His fiery attitude and relation with the commoners outweighs both of us put together. Even without Quentle, your popularity with the elders and priests ever since you recovered from the war sickness is a big factor, along with the fact that Valblin is training you. And I’ve also heard from Selmy that you’re quite popular with some of the soldiers. You both beat me, who’s only backing is the noble class, who unfortunately hold little influence over the people these days.”

“Yeah…”

“Or…Is it all in how strong our Will is? Then, is there someone to read that? The elders or priests? That would favor you, wouldn’t it? Unless they had the dignity to remain unbiased, maybe…that’s probably the only real chance I have, then.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. My Will as a Teuton is undoubtedly the strongest here. I don’t care about the past, the future, other states, or the dome itself, none of it matters. We have a duty to protect and cherish this land right now, and whatever needs to be done to keep that duty, I’m certain I will do.

“………”

They both remained silent for a moment.

“Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty strong in that regard. I don’t really know about myself, but Quentle might not be far behind you, though.”

“You don’t know?”

“…Uhh, yeah, I mean, of course my desire is to become a respected Teuton and to be able to protect the people, but I feel like I can’t exactly make that desire into a solidified Will the way you can, at least not yet. And I certainly don’t have the resolve to say that I’ll do anything necessary to uphold the Group Will. I can’t explain it, but that somehow makes me feel really weighed down… and kind of scared for the people, and our future.”

“Hmph..what an enigma you are.”

“Wha-

The door burst open once more, cutting off their conversation. Finally, Tess returned with a much smaller girl, whose extravagant chestnut hair reached all the way to her hips. She wore a radiant smile on her face, one that beat even Tess’ charismatic smirk.

“Hello there, Cedric and Mel! And-oh, he’s asleep.”

Selmy whispered the last part, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

The cute, slender girl was several years older than the boys and therefore out of school, but looked to be their age or slightly younger. She only knew Cedric because they would often run into each other in the courtyard while she was working.

“I missed the potatoes today, since Tess kept me up here,” Selmy whined with an overdone frown.

“Ahh, I’ll let you know the day before next time, so no worries!”

“Hmm? Potatoes? Selmy, should the daughter of the esteemed Cillavier household really be taking potatoes from a commoner?”

“Ah! But Meeeel, you know how good their vegetables are, riight?”

“And hey, you haven’t forgotten that the castle itself gets its vegetables directly from my house, have you?”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Mel scoffed with his signature brush off motion.

“The son hasn’t been officially made apprentice yet, now has he?”

“Ah-damn..”

“Hmmph, so then, is it really acceptable to be accepting something so potentially hazardous?”

Mel proceeded to flick Selmy’s forehead, with a smirk that showed he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Oouch…come ooon Meeelll, that’s not fair!”

“On the other hand, it is important for Selmy to experience different tastes and textures, as the court herbalist.”

“Ah! That’s right! Nice save, Tess! Oh, and that’s especially the case with vegetables!”

Her radiant smile returned like it had never gone anywhere to begin with.

“Whatever. Anyway, you going to treat these idiots?”

“Oh! Yes, let’s start!”

Tess had already been tending to Quentle, so when Selmy saw this she began frantically searching through her bag.

“Hahh, well then..”

            As Mel began opening the door, Selmy stopped what she was doing.

            “Ah, Mel, wait! Are you…will you be home tonight in time for midnight tea?”

            “Ppppttttttt!!!!”

Unable to control himself, Cedric spat out the medicinal water he’d taken from Tess’ stores.

As he continued laughing so hard he couldn’t verbally make fun of Mel for this, Selmy looked back and forth between the two, puckering her lips confusedly.

“Hahhh. I’ll meet you at your place. Don’t go out until I get there, okay?”

“Huh? But that late, my place is..”

“Do not leave without me, Selmy.”

Cedric’s brow raised as he watched him walk boldly out the door like some sort of official.

Looking back at Selmy, her troubled look quickly flipped back into her usual radiance.

What was that all about?

After getting the necessary treatment, Quentle finally woke up.

“Ah? Ah! Lady Selmy! How does my fair lady do today?”

“Hehe, she does better than you, it seems!”

“Ohh not to worry, some ill-thought booby trap shall not put a damper on my day, for you are always there to brighten it! Like the loveliest sunflower!”

“Huhuu, oh stop it!”

“Yes, do.”

Cedric and Tess both whacked Quentle across the top of his head.

“Why is it you’re only like this when Mel isn’t around?”

“Well my friend, that’s because Lord Mel is quite protective of his lovely childhood friend.”

“Hehe, he sure is!”

“My condolences, Selmy.”

“You said it, Cedric..”

“Huh? But I’m thankful for him being that way! I couldn’t have grown up properly without him there!”

“Ohh? Might you say, then, that Lord Mel is something of a brother to you, Lady Selmy?”

“Quentle, your nose started bleeding again.”

“Oh! Thanks, Cedric! Ah-beg your pardon.”

“Hehehehe, he is kind of like a brother, I guess! Buuut, I think I really see him more like my best friend, and maybe, my own personal knight!”

“Quentle, your brain and heart are bleeding now.”

“How did you know, Cedriiiiic?” Quentle whined, reeling.

“Huuuh? Quentle? Are you okay? Is your head dizzy?”

“Mm, his brain is undergoing some shock at the moment, so he might have some dizziness. Well, better to go rest it off at your own home!”

Tess began pushing Quentle and Cedric toward the door.

  “Ah! My deepest thanks for the treatment, Lady Selmy and Lady Tess!”

  “Geh, don’t address me that way.”

  “The fairest of days to you both, oh wonderful ladies.”

  “Ugh, get out if you’re going to say it sarcastically, Cedric.”

“Ohh noooo-

-slam-

As Cedric and Quentle descended through the stair well, Quentle quickly returned to his usual self.

“Hoo boy, Selmy was as pretty as ever today, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah, normally so, I suppose.”

“Hmm, you just don’t get her appeal. You’re probably more into the type that demeans you, like Tess.”

“No..I mean, Tess is gorgeous, but I’m not really ‘into’ any ‘types’. And isn’t she just mature, rather than demeaning?”

“Ah, you’re such a bore. And screw maturity, I’ll be this way all my life, and so will Selmy! So even when rich boy ends up marrying her, I’ll still be her fan!”

“Rich boy might have something to say about that, though.”

“Eh, we’ll just fight it out, then! Ooh! Speaking of, we fighting tonight?”

“You make it sound like we’re fighting in the actual war…but yeah, it seems we’ll go as usual. I might be a little late though, I need a nap after today.”

“Oh come on, what are you a kid? We can’t fight properly without all three of us there!”

“Oy, didn’t you just wake up from a nap yourself?”

“Ah, that’s because of your silly booby trap though! You won’t be able to get one over on me like that on the real battlefield, you wannabe assassin!”

As he said this, he began skipping down the stairs, turning his body to stick his tongue out at Cedric while posing a rather crude hand gesture.

“Uhh, hey..”

“Hu-Oh, Uwaaaaaa!”

He’d tried to point in warning, but Quentle still slipped in a lingering spot of water and tumbled violently the rest of the way down the stairs.

Smirking contentedly, Cedric helped him up, and ended up dragging him back to his slum in Market Town.

It was beginning to get dark out, and the setting sun’s diluted colors peeked just inside the dome’s western wall. Most of the town’s vendors were shutting down for the day, and the remaining occupants of the cobblestone street consisted of citizens returning to their homes in the slums.

Passing through all the vendor stands and shops, they took a back alley till they arrived at a series of hole in the wall brick shacks. These were the slums of Market Town. Though slums they were, they weren’t all that bad. The living was indeed cheap, which allowed its inhabitants financial and professional freedom. However, the conditions of living were not particularly of concern, as the people were all in some way involved in the market economy, which allowed them access to the minimum medicines the university had to offer.

Though, it remained a fact that this was the Teuton people’s lowest standard of living, and therefore its inhabitants were the most likely to fall to disease, even if it didn’t happen often.

As much was evident when the boys passed several shacks that carried a somber silence and fewer lit torches, one person tending to another seemingly unconscious bedridden citizen.

The sight delivered a morose expression to Cedric’s face, his troubling memories rising to the surface like hot nausea.

As the two got further into the alley, the shacks grew livelier, and rough looking men from various shacks began shouting casual greetings at Quentle, occasionally including Cedric. However, as he did not know any of them, his responses were limited to shy bows or waves, a conditioned behavior.

Finally, they arrived at Quentle’s shack, a particularly colorful landing decorated with wall art and various hangings, including a circular knife throwing board and hooked shelves full of accessories ranging from sheaths and utility belts, to high grade chain mail vests and plating.

The shack’s owner, a large course looking thirty-something man, was in the middle of a sale when the two staggered into the shack. The other three inhabitants were busy drinking ale and taking turns throwing knives at the hanging board to notice them enter.

“Ah, thank you as always Dagan, the service you do for us commoners here is so wonderful, I sincerely hope we can repay you someday.”

“Oh git on, us ruffians gotta stick t’gether! If anything, I overcharge villagers and nobles at the shop all day, so this is only right, gehahaha-ehhe!”

Despite letting a rough cough out in the middle of his laugh, Dagan took another deep puff from his long pipe.

“It’s more import’nt fer us to stay safe, aft’r all, there bein’ no guards out ‘ere at night!”

“Yes, you are most correct. These streets have been especially frequented by those bandits recently, so it’s scarier than ever. It’s the last thing we need at a time like this, with the Wolverines cutting off our trade routes and fishing activities more every day. Those despicable people have no shred of Teuton Will in them..though I suppose it’s this long war itself that is driving people to commit such acts.. ”

“Well those damned bandits be’er ‘ope the don’t come ‘cross my guys, ‘cause at’ll be the end of’m! So keep yer eye out an lemme know if ya see anyth’n funny!”

After shaking hands with Dagan, the man left, and he finally turned to see Cedric standing next to Quentle, who had collapsed onto a table.

“Hoyy, Quentle’s home! An Cedr’c too?! What a treat, boys!”

“haha, hey there, Dagan. How is everyone?”

“We’re all hang’n tough, ain’t we boys?”

The three young men, all in their mid-twenties, gave Cedric casual greetings before returning their focus to their game.

“Hey Elem, Thom, Graham, who’s winning today?”

“Thom’s getting some lucky throws in so far, but I’m on my way to catching him.”

“Oy Graham, we all know those ten pointers weren’t lucky throws as much as my dagger totals today weren’t lucky sales.”

“hahaha he’s got us both there, Graham. So what’s up with our boy Quentle today, Cedric?”

The oldest of the group, Elem, was usually the only one to inquire about Quentle’s many incidents.

“Hmm, well, today was actually not entirely his fault. It was about half his, half mine, so I decided to pay my debt by bringing him back,” Cedric replied with a grimace.

“Hahh? Just where are you pulling those numbers from, Cedric? It was at least ninety percent your fault!”

“Oh, you were conscious?”

Quentle turned his head, still planked on top of the table, and frowned at Cedric’s smirk.

“Hoyoyy Quentle, getcher a*s steady, boy!”

With one hand, Dagan lifted Quentle off the table by his collar, and tossed him onto a sofa while he whined in contest.

“Ahh, Master please, I’ve had a long-

“What a ‘andful the brat is, eh Cedr’c?”

“Quite so, Dagan sir. Though, I really was partially-

“Gehahahah! You boys’r just like these three when they grew up!”

“Huh? No way, Master, none of us were as dumb as Quentle.”

“Yeah..”

“Not even close..”

“Alright, you guys suck, I’m going to my room. Cedric, I’ll get you back tonight! Don’t be late!” Quentle pointed at Cedric as he drudged through a rather worn, but colorful, tapestry, wearing what could only be described as a half-grin, half-frown.

Cedric gave him a facetious nod in return, and turned to face Dagan once more.

“Hey, Dagan, has the crime around here really been that bad lately?”

“Mmm, it ‘as. I s’pose it’s been a while since you last been by, huh?”

“Yeah..so what’s this about bandits?”

“Ah, there’s more good fer nothin’s round ‘ere than just ‘em, but this’n bandit group been makin’ a name fer ‘emselves, lately.”

“The Blonde Bandits.”

“Blonde..Bandits..” Cedric repeated Elam’s words, intrigued.

“Sounds cute, doesn’t it? Especially strange considering the nobility are primarily blonde headed. But these thugs have been kidnapping people for ransom for over a month now. From what I’ve heard, they investigate their targets so thoroughly they know their schedule to the tee, picking them up whenever and wherever is most convenient for them to disappear with the victim. Then a day or two later, the victim’s family gets a letter threatening them for ransom, always signed ‘The Blonde Bandits’. They choose a safe place for exchange, execute, rinse and repeat.”

“…wow. I never would have imagined something like that..”

“The worst part is that other criminal groups have begun popping up, copying the Blonde Bandits and using their name. Problem is, they’re sloppy with their jobs, and people have died because of it. The castle is very aware of the problem, but they’ve tried hard to keep it hushed up, since public opinion on the government would go south if everyone knew the amount of intra-city guards are dwindling due to the Wolverines’ constant night assaults that are forcing us to spread sentry forces across the entire border wall. The tensions caused by this is limiting our commerce and causing these criminals to rise up the way they are.”

“..What the hell? So we’re being stretched all over the island with the night assaults, and stretched from within trying to protect citizens from our own people? What the hell is that...Ralin and Galgi said it was bad, but I didn’t realize the night attacks were causing so much strife..”

“Indeed. From what we’ve heard from a client connected to the army, each and every night assault is flawlessly executed, with top tier siege equipment to boot. We’re having to send troops running from battlefield to battlefield, in large numbers. It seems like the Wolverines finally decided to stop dragging this thing out and brought out their big guns.”

“Their big guns, huh..”

“Mm. It seems likely their commander in chief himself is involved, as well as his top generals. These attacks seem to be very calculated, so it makes sense.”

“I see…I wonder if we have the power to withstand their best…”

“Geha! Don’t seem ‘at way right now. ‘xactly why this state needs one thing and one thing only- fer one o’ you two brats to go grab ‘at red sword and b’come the Heir! Or ‘ell, if I’d my pick it’d be both o’ ya! Jus’ not ‘at spoilt rich brat!”

“The red sword?”

“Oh, Gambell ain’t tol’ ya ‘at part yet, ‘uh? Long story short, either one o’ ya might be able to pull the red sword an’ use it as the Heir, some’n bout it bein’ a Takanova relic ‘at we can use since it’s been ‘ere on our side so long.”

“..ohh. Ralin mentioned that too, but I didn't really take it seriously. So that’s why Quentle was so excited about the forest earlier.. I just assumed since Gambell said it was sealed that that was it. And after that story, I never would have thought of a Teuton using that sword anyway..” Cedric muttered this, looking down.

“Eh? Yeah..-Gehem!- nothin’ on you, Cedric, but I think ‘at’s some’n ‘at makes our Quentle more suited, honestly.”

Cedric’s eyes burst wide with shock, though his gaze remained downward.

“But, like I said, it could be either o’  ya brats… might jus’ come down to who gets to it first, gehahahaha!”

Cedric stayed silently fixed for a moment, before finally composing himself and looking up with a grimace.

“Hah, well, lucky for me I know a few ways to slow Quentle down!”

After their conversation ended, Cedric decided to take advantage of being here before heading out, and bought several things: A utility belt with several sheaths strapped to it, one of Thom’s finely made daggers, and a very thin chain mail vest. Buying combat accessories had become a hobby of his, so when going through Market Town at night while equipped, he’d always dawdle around in the hopes that some trouble would come his way, for the sake of testing his skills.

Upon leaving the sketchier part of town, Cedric decided to take it easy and do some last minute shopping, finally catching a street vendor in the middle of packing up.

Satisfied with his haul of meats and fruits, he made his way back to the village.

It was getting dark out, but he wasn’t in a part of town he considered to be potentially dangerous, so he carelessly maneuvered the winding Market Town roads.

Passing by a dark alleyway that would generally not catch his attention, he noticed three figures standing within the old beaten brick.

One of them, with the build of a tall boy around his age, leaned against the wall, a grey hood covering most of his clean shaven face. He could just see light colored curls seeping out from the hood, matching the brown and gray robes draped loosely around him, winding diagonally down to his feet.

The man’s appearance made him come across lax, but his mien was intimidating enough to make Cedric stop walking momentarily, as if he’d actually been standing in his way rather than to his side. It almost felt as if he’d walked into some thick fog that kept him from moving further.

“Huuuh, what’s this? A little deer fallen into the lion’s den? How fun~”

Speechless, Cedric’s glance redirected toward the other two silhouettes, two much smaller hooded figures leaning against the opposite wall, too deep into the shadows to even make out much of an appearance, though they were clearly slender enough to be female. The two stood menacingly still, not even bothering to uncross their arms.

“Umm, hello? Buddy? What’s a good natured little student like you doing out this late?”

Sensing that any further hesitation he showed would bring him danger, Cedric put on a loose, smug face.

“It’s only just gotten dark recently, if anything I’d say it’s far too early to be so obviously evil seeming in an alleyway..”

“Aaha-ha! How interesting, huh girls? You see, deer boy, it’s exactly that frame of mind that brings us to scout out the carefree Market Town night-goers who would never expect to be eaten up~”

“Geh..deer boy..really..”

“And look how beat up you are! Aren’t you aware, these days there are vultures eyeing this area for little wounded animals, waiting hastily for a nice meal?”

“That so? Well, it’s a good thing my little school teaches me how to hunt weak things like a bird that waits till its prey is injured.”

“Aaaha-ha-ha! You’re a seriously interesting little rabbit, aren’t you?”

“How did I suddenly change species so drastically?”

“Mm interesting indeed, I think we might be able to get along. What’ya think girls? Think we can add one more to the gang?”

“Uh, if it’s okay for me to have a say here, then you should know, I’m gonna pass for now.”

“Ahhh? Really? I thought for sure you’d fit right in with us..maybe another time?”

“Yeah, not gonna lie, not likely.”

“Hmmm, I’ll take that as a solid maybe. Looking forward to it, partner~”

Frustrated, Cedric finally walked away without replying.

He began walking briskly, gripping his new dagger while staying wary of any sudden movement behind him.

After some time, nothing came, so he let his tensed arms relax.

Could that have been…

Coming to a fork in the road, Cedric wearily thought about which route to take before remembering the left hand route was a quicker way home, though it required turning down a steep alley before coming back out to the shopping center buildings.

Not thinking anything of it, Cedric started down the curved path, when it happened.

Just as he turned the corner, he saw it.

Something was in front of him, just meters away.

It wasn’t a person, nor was it standing on solid ground.

It was like a gray and black shadow, swiveling around a flickering flame, blending meticulously with the darkness.

What floated before him was certainly not human, however, it had the general appearance of one. Its large frame, its distorted arms and legs, its neck and shoulder line, its flowing hair-

When Cedric noticed its wavy hair, flowing gently out from a blurred, shadowy face, he understood he had seen this thing before.

That….specter…from then….

This time, he did not hesitate.

In that split second, something told him he could not hesitate, nor could he be near this thing for another second if he wanted to live.

His legs sprang into action almost like machinery, and he took off running in the opposite direction. Not daring to look back, he sprinted down the right hand path, accelerating with every step.

He thought the villainous man in the alley way would laugh if he saw him, thinking he was running away from him, but that didn’t matter. As prideful as he might be, whatever that specter was shook him to his core, and his body and mind instinctively knew to flee.

He sprinted on, until he had passed through Castle Town, finally entering the village before he slowed down to catch his breath.

He just realized he had, to his surprise, held onto everything he’d just bought.

What in the world..is that thing…

What in the world..is happening on this island?

He returned home, where he was forced to put those thoughts aside while he helped his father prepare dinner in silence.

Then, after eating(also in silence), he attempted to take a nap. However, with what he’d just witnessed, there was no way he could fall asleep. Despite that, he eventually found himself quite relaxed due to exhaustion.

“You should fix that sleeping schedule of yours. It’s a bother for those living with you to tip toe around your abnormal routine.”

His father said this as he walked by his open door.

Cedric’s eyes widened once he comprehended what he’d said, realizing he hadn’t thought about that. He would often take naps after evening sessions before going out for several hours of the night. However, he would always return in time to get a few hours of real sleep in, before routinely waking up before dawn.

Even though I’ve been diligent in waking up for years…sleeping a bit early creates a burden?

So…I guess I either stop going out…or I stay awake until I go out…then I get hardly any sleep, but that’s better than being a bu-

-Wait…tip toe around me? Why would he even do that for me? What does that actually mean?

Thinking about this kept him occupied until it was time to head out for the ruins.

Naturally, he’d decided to keep this routine, and sacrifice sleep going forward.

Therefore, he crept out the door and through the village, and proceeded to sneak through Castle Town, strategically avoiding the patterned patrol of the sparsely stationed guards.

He could avoid this trouble by taking the streets of Market Town around the outside of Castle Town and into the outskirts leading to the ruins, but doing this had become part of the nightly game for him, continuously improving on his elusiveness. On top that, he had a certain other reason for not wanting to go back into Market Town right now.

Well…I’m sure Quentle will be fine though..

Silently praying for his clumsy friend, he continued sneaking by the buildings of Castle Town.

_______

In the middle of a forest, a small lake reflected the distorted moonlight into a thin mist. On the tiny slab of land laying at the center of the lake, a lanky boy with short blonde hair struggled with all of his might, attempting to pull a sword up from where it lodged deep into the earth.

The boy’s hands were as red as the blade of the sword that shined a bright scarlet in the moonlight, as he threw every bit of his strength into his attempt to thrust the hilt of the sword skyward.

Finally, he gave up, and fell back into the small patch of grass the slab of land had to offer, breathing deep, frustrated breaths with a face wrought in anguish.

“DammIIITIT…

*pant*

*pant*

Cedric….

*pant*

Quentle….

*pant*

…I have to beat…both of you…now…

…for all of our sakes….

…. before…. there’s no other choice left but… that...”

___________

In the silent, shadowed backstreets of Market Town, a dark haired boy scurried past a certain alley way, whistling as he went without a care. From within the alley way, a hooded figure stood up, and stepped out into the road, turning toward the passerby.

A thin mist emerged from the figure like steam, surrounding him.

As he looked up, showing his young pale and freckled face, sharp green eyes, and dirty blonde locks, a cunning smile slowly formed.

“And, found the second~”

___________

Several miles out to sea, a fleet of warships rowed swiftly toward Takanova Island. It’s flagship, a large warship adorned with red/gold flags and exquisite golden archways, traveled at its center. Within the inner compartments of the ship, two men engaged in hand to hand sparring in a dark room. Their hands opened flat, they struck each other’s forearms at varying angles, trying to open up the other’s defenses and land a body strike.

At first, the two seemed to be even in their skill, their build even close to the same. However, not long into the match did one man gain the upper hand, luring his opponent into overextending, and proceeding to twist his body, grabbing the man’s wrist and slinging him over his torso and into the plywood.

Having half jumped to allow for the throw, the man untwisted his body and landed with perfect balance.

“Pursia, it seems your sense of balance remains your weak point, even now.”

The man, shrouded in darkness, bore a voice as stern and daunting as his stature.

“Yes, General…”

“After all these years, even though it’s what cost you defeat at the hands of a sapling Teutonic Knight.”

“This is so… General.”

The man sat up, gripping his shoulder. What little bit of torchlight there was in the room flickered over his face, revealing a ghastly scar across his jawbone, just above a bitter grimace.

“You should know…night battles are won and lost by the general’s sense of balance. His ability to perceive the flow of battle when his sight is at its most vulnerable, and knack for adjusting to the enemy’s tactics with a calculated defense and his own plan to take advantage of the enemy’s vulnerabilities, are what make a general dangerous at night.”

The man had turned his back to his downed opponent, basking himself even further in shadow.

“Yes, sir. I understand, and you will see this applied to this very battle. This will be the night, the first time since six years ago…”

“Yes, I have faith you’ll see to it while I play the decoy. We only need the siege to be successful enough to get one Wolf in, but if you have the chance to do further damage, take it. Either way, our contact will be ready to receive the Wolf, and then…

…the Red Sword will finally be in our hands.”

“Indeed it will, General Shuant.”

_________

On the northwestern shores of Takanova Island, a garrison unit of five hundred men rested carelessly after setting up their siege defense equipment.

“Ah, all that hard work and we don’t even know if we’ll get hit tonight!”

“Well, we’ve had our number called every night in the last week, so I wouldn’t be all that surprised to see it happen again.”

“Guess that’s true! But it doesn’t matter, because the brick wall squad is here!

“UuwoooHHH!!!”

“Oy you dunderheads, keep it down will ya? I’m trying to listen to the sea’s voice!”

“Ahh, sorry Commander, just trying to stay energized, ehe..”

The tall, scraggly man walked by their small campfire, ignoring Ralin.

As he looked out to sea, his eyes slowly grew wide.

“Ah? Commander? Something wrong?”

“You can’t hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“Something….big…is headed this way.”