James Ravenwood POV

James sat on a bench in the courtyard of his family's grand mansion, his gaze fixed on Roo, who was practicing swordsmanship. The young boy, brandishing a short wooden sword, moved with surprising skill for his age. He executed each block and slash against a comically oversized wheatbag with precision, his face etched with seriousness. The wheatbag, towering over little Roo, swayed under the force of his practiced strikes.

To James, Roo was like a character from one of the many legendary tales he had read - a young knight, valiant and fearless. Despite the turmoil beyond the mansion walls, these moments with Roo felt like the best days of James's life. He felt a twinge of guilt for relishing these days when the world outside was steeped in chaos and suffering. Yet, he couldn't deny the truth of his feelings.

For the first time, James had a friend of his own age to watch and play with. His status had always set him apart from other children of noble families, who seemed to avoid him, likely due to the court intrigues and political scheming that James had come to understand all too well, even at his young age. But Roo was different.

In the short time they had spent together, James saw no hidden agendas in Roo's actions. The boy was like fresh snow on a mountain peak - pure and untainted. Roo acted on his whims, and this sincerity was something that James valued deeply. You're different, aren't you, Roo? he thought, watching the boy with a mix of admiration and fond kinship.

Brushing aside his conflicting thoughts, James refocused on Roo's training. An idea sparked in his mind, and he called out enthusiastically, "Hey, Roo!"

At the sound of his name, Roo paused his practice and, wiping sweat from his brow, turned towards James with a curious look. "Yeah?"

James's face lit up with excitement. "Could you show me that magical move again? I want to see it one more time!"

Roo's face broke into a confident smile. "You mean my super duper finishing move? Alright, you got it!" Gripping his wooden sword tightly, Roo eyed the wheatbag with the intensity of a hunter stalking its prey. "Power Strike."

Suddenly, the sword in Roo's hands shimmered with a glowing blue light. With a fierce determination, he planted his feet firmly and swung at the wheatbag, his sword leaving a trailing arc of blue light. The blade sliced through the bag as if it were butter, unleashing a torrent of wheat.

"Oh no," Roo murmured, his initial pride turning to horror as he surveyed the mess. Frantically, he tried to shove the spilled wheat back into the torn bag, but it was a futile effort.

James, witnessing the chaos, pushed himself to stand, determined to help. Each step was a struggle, his body protesting every movement. 'Don't give up now,' he urged himself, intent on aiding Roo. His breath grew shallow, his steps increasingly labored.

As he neared Roo, James's foot went numb, his leg wobbling uncontrollably. Powerless to stop the inevitable, he stumbled and fell face-first to the ground, a mere step away from his friend.

Roo's eyes flickered between the spilling wheat and his fallen friend, torn between the two crises. Swiftly, he turned James over, concern etching his young face as James winced in pain, his forehead likely bruised.

"Ah, James, you know you shouldn't move like that," Roo chided gently, sliding his hand behind James's back and lifting him with surprising ease. "You need to rest. Someone will come to check on your bruise."

James's voice was barely a whisper, tinged with guilt. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, fighting back tears. "I just keep causing trouble for you."

Roo shook his head, a mix of frustration and fondness in his eyes as he carefully laid James back on the bench. "Don't be silly. Just take care of yourself, and don't push too hard, okay?"

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After ensuring James was settled, Roo glanced back at the wheat-strewn courtyard, his face clouded with worry. But before he could attempt any cleanup, two figures entered the courtyard. James, turning to see who it was, recognized his elder brother Tristan and Roo's grandfather, Robert.

The moment Robert's gaze landed on the chaos, his face darkened with anger. He scanned the area and his eyes quickly found Roo. "Roo? What have you done, young boy?!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing with a mix of surprise and reprimand.

Roo's eyes widened in alarm at his grandfather's anger. "I'm so sorry, Grandpa!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with regret.

Robert, visibly upset, scolded Roo for his carelessness. "Do you realize how many people that wheat could have fed? And here you are, using it for play!" He then turned to Tristan, bowing respectfully. "Your Grace, I apologize. This won't happen again."

Tristan, however, sought to diffuse the tension. "Sir Robert, they're just children playing. Let's not be too harsh."

Robert, though, was adamant. "Your Grace, it's important he learns. We can't have him thinking it's alright to waste food like this."

James, feeling the weight of responsibility, struggled to sit up. "Sir, please! It's my fault," he insisted, wincing as he touched his bruised forehead. "I asked Roo to use his magic on the wheat. I am truly sorry."

At James's admission, Robert hesitated, sighing deeply. With James involved, the situation was clearly more delicate.

Tristan, ever the peacemaker, clapped his hands together. "It's just kids being kids. The wheat is still fine." He then turned around and signaled a servant. "Bring an empty bag, please."

"As you wish, Your Grace," the servant responded, hurrying off.

Turning to Roo with a smile, Tristan playfully ruffled the boy's hair. "You're strong, cutting through a wheat bag with a wooden sword! You'll be a great defender of the city, just like your grandpa."

He then approached James, with Roo in tow. "I have two pieces of good news. First, starting today, Sir Robert will be your personal bodyguard."

James' eyes sparkled with excitement, his mind racing with the possibilities. "So, Roo can stay with me?" he asked, barely containing his joy.

Tristan smiled, turning to Roo. "That's up to him. Roo is his own man, after all."

Roo's response was immediate and enthusiastic. "Of course I want to stay! James is my friend!"

James's delight was palpable as he hugged Tristan tightly. "Thank you, big brother!"

Tristan laughed softly, gently disentangling himself from James's embrace. "Hold on, there's more news. We're nearly done clearing the city of monsters. You know what that means?"

James's face lit up with realization. "I can finally get a class?"

"Exactly," Tristan confirmed with a nod. "In fact, we're setting out right now."

Overwhelmed with happiness, James could only shout "Yes!" again and again, his voice echoing with excitement.

Tristan chuckled at his brother's reaction, then glanced at Robert. The old man's face was adorned with a broad, nostalgic smile, evidently pleased with the turn of events.

"Well then, shall we go?" Tristan extended his hand to James.

James, unable to contain his eagerness, accepted the offered hand, using it for support. "Yes, I can't wait!"

As the group slowly exited the mansion, with Tristan supporting James, something in the corner of the street caught James's attention. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a silvery figure watching him, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Huh, am I seeing things?

Puzzled, James rubbed his eyes and looked again, but the street corner was empty. "Anything troubling you?" Tristan inquired, noticing James's odd behavior.

James shook his head, dismissing it as nothing. "No, it's nothing," he replied, his curiosity subsiding for the moment.

Continuing their journey, they approached the inner wall. Passing through the gate, they gazed down at the outer city from the hilltop upon which the inner city stood. It was a view that brought a sense of awe and perspective.

Suddenly, Tristan turned to James with a mischievous grin. "Want to try something fun?" Before James could respond, Tristan scooped him up in a princess carry and dashed down the hill.

With each stride, Tristan leaped meters into the air, gracefully bounding from stone to stone as they descended the hillside. James was a mix of terror and wonder, the exhilaration of the wind against his face and the rush of speed unlike anything he'd experienced before.

In that moment of thrilling freedom, James couldn't help but think, Is this what freedom feels like? It was a fleeting thought, but one that filled him with a sense of adventure and possibility.