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Chapter 1
"To the Citadel,
It is with the utmost honor and pleasure that I wholeheartedly endorse the recruitment of one, Ezabel Grover, into the Order of Attendant Knights. By my word, the kingdom of Ardyn shall know no candidate more capable. She has been raised with an arsenal of respect and confidence, both of which will undoubtedly see her conquer the rungs of your convoluted hierarchy.
Truly, are the ways of my time already outworn? We once believed that talent and leadership warranted recognition. Not politics! - Heroes! That’s what we Attendants are! An unwavering fire of hope! A shield for the people! A sword for the king! Trailblazers, warriors, monster hunters, - champions of a greater era! If her brothers have not already done so, Ezabel shall remind you lot of it!
For thirty years I have dedicated my body and soul to our mission - to keep the people of Ardyn safe! Three decades of painstaking and steadfast work; a blur in my memory, a time of loyalty I can hardly remember now! I may have retired, but I pray you have the integrity to recognize my contributions to the Order and my advocacy of this fine young woman. Well wishes and good health all around. May your generation carry the strength that ours had so eagerly passed on!
All the best,
Bastion Grover
P.S. Should this letter arrive in the office of Leland Hart, I have included in the envelope a pair of coupons for use at my bookstore! (Note: Applicable only on history tomes and cookbooks. Limited to one per person.)"
°°
Thus, came the warble of song birds and the shrill of summer bugs.
“What a mouthful.”, The officer drawled. “Well, for one, I can certainly tell you that this is not the office of Leland Hart.”
As a matter of fact, the placard atop her desk read: ‘Leonora Errapel’. The woman who, after having thoroughly read the piece of parchment out loud, placed it front and center on the table. This was her interim office, a quaint little room whose warmth came sifting through cotton drapes and fell upon old wooden walls. With sterling posture she leaned forward and dangled her head of short, sunset-blonde; a fleeting draft weaved gingerly through her features. A cloak of gold and white, synonymous with the Attendant Knights, hung from her chair.
Ezabel’s nerves were in full bloom. Not as a result of any one thing in particular, but of a blend of timing, unfamiliarity, and plain old bad luck. Being in such a place had only inflated her unease, to the extent that she found herself fidgeting with whatever part of her clothing she could find. Ordinarily, her gaze was of a striking emerald - salient as stars against the evening sky. Now, apprehension was all that could be found in her falling, doe eyes. Her shoulders, slender and fair alike, betrayed their usual selves and sulked. She did her best to ‘keep it together’, as her brother typically asked, but her first impression was already off to a terrible start. It was obvious. She had never felt so inadequate. What else could she do but sit and hide behind her lasting black tresses?
“Miss Grover, I hope this is not some sort of bribe.”, Leonora voiced.
“I-it isn’t!”, Ezabel perked up. Genuine innocence floated in her tone. “Truthfully, I wasn’t aware that he had sent something like that.. I’m very, very sorry.”
Leonora, with fingers interlaced below her chin, gave the letter a second glance. She lingered for a moment. Then, lifted her attention back onto Ezabel who promptly averted her own out of sheer habit.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting this ‘Bastion Grover’, is he your father?”
“Yes! W-well, no. - He’s my foster father, unofficially.”
“Well, in any circumstance, I regret to tell you that the Attendant Knights do not accept ‘letters of recommendation’ of any kind.”
“Of course! I never meant to--.”
“You’ll have to make do with your own wit, like the rest of the rabble outside.”
An apt term: ‘rabble’. For the clamor of a few dozen people muddled the air, even through the wooden door behind Ezabel. It never fell silent to begin with. She had only managed to phase out the noise thanks in part to the anxiety Leonora had so easily coaxed out of her. Now, she had been reminded of it, and of the fact that she was just one of many that sought this particular Attendant’s goodwill.
To be truthful, it was a little too much for Ezabel to manage all at once, if that was not already obvious. In her head, she had pictured a drastically different situation. She was supposed to be in Gracewind, the capital, where cheering crowds filled the thoroughfares. Not some off-the-road farmstead a few days away; it was completely inconsequential. She had arrived several hours prior and still struggled to remember its name. Angoulet? Something like that. She was also supposed to be a shining beacon of excellence. A standout candidate with a sheen that matched her brother. - None of that had gone her way, of course. Such was the harshness of reality.
“Anyway.”, Leonora sighed. “I just need a few pieces of information and we’ll be done here. - Age?”
“Twenty-one!”
“Place of birth?”
“I-I don’t really know where I was born..”, Ezabel hesitated. “But, I lived in Alm for as long as I can remember.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“That will suffice. - And, the reference number you were assigned?”
“Oh, um..”
Slim digits fumbled their way into the bag at her side, where Ezabel sorted through a handful of old paper. And in her usual, embarrassing fashion, she took an inordinate amount of time in doing so. The subtle tapping of Leonora’s languished fingers chimed as she watched; she shifted in her chair more times than she thought she could.
“Found it!”, Ezabel huffed. “My reference number is.. ..one hundred and twenty-five.”
“Wonderful, twenty-five more to go then.”, she replied with feigned enthusiasm. “Be sure to return for the assessment in four hour’s time.”
A heavy sigh ran from Leonora’s lips while her quill swiveled triviality upon triviality. The sun had only now reached its apex, but already was there weariness about her face. A look that Ezabel caught on to. This officer was going through the motions, so to speak, not that anyone could blame her. But, it was indicative of her potent lack of interest. To be written down and lost as an ordinary name among too many others; it proved a real possibility. Ezabel nibbled her bottom lip, afraid of such a fate.
But, that was it. The feeling of dread sank beneath her skin. The interview had gone poorly. With a ring, the quill returned to an ink bottle beside Leonora, who stood to file away Ezabel’s information on a towering pile of paper beside the window.
Then, while it did not happen often, chance found its way into the room.
New spirit found Ezabel when her eyes fell swiftly atop Leonora’s regimentals. It was a uniform whose colors were coveted throughout the realm. But, more important was the emblem of gold set upon her shoulder. It glinted against the window as clear as the summer afternoon. There was no mistaking it. Ezabel had seen it once before. The crest of a certain brigade.
“Excuse me, Miss Leonora?”, she said. “You wouldn’t happen to know my brother, would you?”
°°
“Standing high and mighty between the alps of the west and the Amber Sea in the east, is the kingdom of Ardyn. A realm blessed by a naturally occurring resource known as sealstone. Although rare, sealstone is touted as the most valuable material in the realm, for every piece bears within it a potent, primeval magic. When tapped into, it dispenses an insurmountable supply of energy. A catalyst for a new and exciting age.
So came the advent of magitech, everyday tools designed to draw on this very power. Their development was spearheaded by the realm’s foremost expert on sealstone, Duncan Parv…ca..--.
…
Duncan Parvcapti…
…
Duncan Parvcapt..io..fur..we
…
What kind of surname is that?”
Ezabel staggered her brows, slightly put off and tired of the book in her lap. It was by Bastion’s counsel that she began acquainting herself with general history and geography. ‘An Attendant must be worldly, and you most certainly are not, Ezabel!’. It was those very words that shouted in her head when she first took a seat in front of Angoulet’s town hall. As far as she was concerned, these sorts of texts should have stayed in Alm. She much preferred the tales that her younger self spent hours poring over. Stories of trials and triumphs. Of names and legends. Of the Order, and of its fabled Attendants Knights.
So, her head fell idle and fastened a glance before the facade of the building. It seemed rather odd. Almost as if the original purpose of the place was not as a town hall, but as a home for someone better off than the rest of the farmstead. It was one of maybe three other buildings that managed a second floor, after all. On the roof stood a bell tower made of a different wood than the structure below it. It did not take much for anybody there to see that it had been added sometime after the original construction. Yet, the creeping vines about its walls had engulfed it just as much. Even the old, rusted bell itself was not safe from their reach.
At its feet, a courtyard had been laid out, albeit rather negligently. Grass had grown between the cobblestones long ago and a handful of lawns were set around mismatched trees. There was no expert involved, surely. It was a courtyard made simply for the sake of having a courtyard. A small gathering place for an even smaller village who, in the end, had no use for it. All caged neatly in a thin wall of stone. Luckily, it provided some shade.
On a stone bench and underneath an outstretched willow, Ezabel lingered for the last three hours. There was need to find lodging for the night, but there was also the possibility of another real Attendant arriving there. The upcoming ‘assessment’ wielded a hefty amount of importance. It stood to reason that the Order would have more knights alongside Leonora to see it through. And, that was a chance she simply could not pass up. Even if it meant missing out on a room at the local inn.
She had neglected all of the questions that raced through her mind earlier that day. Regret sat firmly in her stomach, loosed only by a lengthy groan. If only she had not been so intimidated by Leonora, then perhaps she could have ‘picked her brain’.
‘How long have you been an Attendant?’
‘Have you ever been to the Amber Sea?’
‘When do I get my own knightstone?’
‘Is the capital really as big as they say?’
They represented only a small taste of her curiosity, and she made it a point to see them all (and more) answered should another opportunity arise. Unfortunately, that chance did not seem near. All at hand was the same idle crowd that Ezabel had been a part of for the last several hours.
She pushed her lips to one side and puffed a strand of loose hair from her face. An arch, cut through the wall and riddled with overgrowth, was the only threshold from which anyone could enter. It was there that her attention remained after having closed her book. Any other day would see this place as quiet as one would expect from such a remote hamlet. But of course, this was not ‘any other day’.
“Hadeax, Ystere, Arkney, and us, Angoulet.”
“Seriously? There are that many testing grounds this year?”
“Yup, and each town has about a hundred and fifty candidates too.”
“That’s insane. Why don’t they hold everything in Gracewind? I don’t wanna’ be in this run down village any longer than I have to.”
“With that many people, there are bound to be a ton of flunkies. I bet they’re weeding them out before the real selection begins.”
“Ugh, now I’m nervous. I didn’t think the competition was going to be this heavy.”
Ezabel heard many conversations of the sort. Especially given the amount of time she had been waiting. They came from various corners of the yard, from different people, from different stances, and all throughout the waning of the sun. Though she did her best to only take in what information necessary, it would be a lie to say they did not strike a cord. She too, had not expected for the competition to be this rough nor this numerous. At the very least, she found some consolation in knowing that she had not been the only one disappointed in the choice of venue.
Her brother had made it all seem so easy. He had set his sights on joining the Attendants early on. And before she knew it, he had become one. Afterwards, stories of his exploits reached her ears often. But, his work kept him from ever returning home. It had been four years since she last saw him. In a way, it was bittersweet; this was the longest she had been without her only blood relative. However, there was a chance that it meant he was within reach of their goal.
No matter. The faint orange of the setting sun had brought her attention back to the present, and of one thought in particular: she had her own situation to be concerned over. - To wait without much else to do; it certainly took its toll on the crowd. They sat on every bench. Leaned on every pillar. Stood by every bush. Every corner of the courtyard was occupied. Fatigue had settled well in the air. Even Ezabel struggled to stay mindful.
That is, when boots sounded against cobblestone and echoed under the archway. Attention shifted as a whole, collectively falling against the darkened silhouette of a man that made his way through the underpass. It was the only thing of note to happen in quite some time; enough to see Ezabel tilt her head with moderate expectation. Then, the familiar pairing of white and gold flickered about the man’s figure.
‘Hey, watch it!’
‘E-excuse me!’, Ezabel exclaimed.
‘What the-!?’
‘Sorry! Sorry!’, she added.
Before she knew it, her feet had moved on their own. With renewed vigor, she weaved through the crowd as a fox did in the brush. She had no concern for a collision or two; it took only a passing nod of apology for her to continue past each time. - This man. He was an Attendant Knight. That was all that mattered. Her mind frothed with enthusiasm. Of her boundless slew of questions, which would she ask first? Would he live up to the tales of his kind? Would he be easier than Leonora to approach? Which question would he be able to even answer?
With a less than gentle nudge and a grimace on her face, Ezabel squeezed herself out of the herd. Her boots stumbled upon the path and stopped just short of the Attendant. Her gaze lifted to meet his own. There, before him, her rosy lips parted. She did not miss a beat.
“P-pardon me!”, she looked intently. “Where can I find the ‘One-armed Knight’?”
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