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Chapter 4
Whenever Xavier had them dressed in snow clothes, his siblings looked like absolute munchkins. They were short and the fabric was thick. If they were to go anywhere, they would waddle. It would take another year or two for them to grow into the attire. Luckily, Ezabel and Vance had no other task that day than to help their brother carry more firewood. No one would see them in their stout getups.
“How many more do we need to carry, Xavier?”, Vance whined.
“All of it.”
“Whyyy?”, of course, Ezabel whined too.
A storm was brewing and had neared Alm. The snow fall grew thicker by the day and would surely hamper any outside endeavor when it peaked. As such, Bastion had made a point to gather as much firewood as they could before the shop was inevitably snowed in. He would cut the logs and the kids would bring them home. It was an easy system, but boring. - The kids returned to the storefront with their small wagon. Snowflakes tangled within their hoods, hair, brows, and lashes.
“I wanna’ go inside!”, Ezabel shouted.
“We still have one more wagon-full to go.”, Xavier replied.
“Ugh, it’s so heavy!”, Vance groaned.
They gathered their breath. Their boots were shin deep in powder. Take away the looming clouds and it would have been quite the place to play.
“Imagine if we had a knightstone?”, Ezabel muttered.
She snickered, suddenly excited by a silly bout of her own daydreaming. Then, she pressed against the wagon with a smile, as if the last hour of work had not happened at all. Having heard her comment and seen her push, Vance very quickly tugged at the handle to help. He too, let loose a playful grin.
“Yeah, then I could carry this whole thing on my own!”, he answered.
“We could even chop trees like Xavier!”, she added.
“Forget that, I would rip them out of the ground!”
“Yeah! And, I would jump into the sky and blow the clouds away!”
“We’ll be faster than a horse! And strong enough to swing a wyvern by the tail! Like in the book!”
“Yeah! Yeah! And we could run all the way to Gracewind without getting tired. And then, we could bring back a buncha’ good food for Bastion!”
Somewhere in their conversation, both had ceased to move the wagon. Instead, they shook it back and forth out of sheer animation. They were practically jumping up and down with their full weight, which eventually toppled the stack of wood they were moving. - Xavier shouted.
“Stop playing! It’s all falling out!”, his temper flared. “Vance! Ezabe--!”
°°
“Ezabel Grover!”
Night had long since fallen, but only now did she notice the copper glow of the lanterns upon the walls of the courtyard. In tandem with the distant stars of the evening sky, they were a reminder that she had spent her entire day waiting for this very moment. So then, why did excitement escape her? Where now, was the enthusiasm and eagerness from before? A part of her was reluctant to stand, for past this threshold, the tales of her childhood would become reality. And, of course, reality had already spurned her once that day.
“That’s you, right?”, Dani asked with a tilt of her head.
“Y-yeah, that’s me.”
“Great, best of luck, Ezabel!”
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Dani nodded with assurance, which thrusted obligation upon Ezabel. At least, that was how she felt at that moment. The remaining few that had yet to be assessed, steadied their gaze upon her when she approached. She gave them no heed, however. For her eyes remained low and her head never rose. The jitters had got the best of her.
Only when she had arrived upon the steps of the town hall, did her face finally bathe in the moonlight. Her skin was fair, albeit wrinkled when she nibbled the cushion of her rosy bottom lip. It was a habit she really had no intention of getting rid of, mainly because she was unaware of it entirely.
Auguste stepped forward. For some odd reason, it was much easier to see him now, despite the dimmed backdrop. He was quite ahead of Ezabel in years, even Leonora. A peppering of gray had begun to set in among the brown of his short beard. Still, he remained stalwart facing and tall.
The challenge of her life had come. Ezabel’s eyes darted every which way, not entirely certain of how she would eventually come to settle her bearings. She knew that this was the moment she had waited for, but why was it so difficult to focus? Was it the crowd? Perhaps it was Leonora? Or maybe, it was the prospect of failure. She could not deny her fear of losing to this test. Afterall, this was the moment where her life would pivot. For better or for worse.
So, she found herself still at the foot of the stairs, unable to group her resolve. Part of her even regretted having been distracted by Dani. Though, it was without any real slight against her. - Then, a glimpse of her aspirations caught her eye. A glint on Auguste’s gauntlet, right at the wrist. A singular, speck of ideal light. A reflection of the moonlight above. A spherical, polished, and storied object. A knightstone different from that which had been at the center of the night’s assessment. This was Auguste’s personal knightstone. His legacy. It stood out of the way, and gathered no recognition.
Still, Ezabel’s imagination ran without restraint, having already forgotten about the task in front of her. How famous was Auguste? Was he well traveled? What adventurous story could he share? And how many? As if she had not already believed him a true Attendant, the sight revived all ardor within her. It was another sign that the tales of her youth were alive and well. More importantly, they were ready for her to join. Her chest rose and her expression livened.
“I say once more. Ezabel Grover, your assessment begins upon your taking of this stone. Be wary of its power and of your own limits.”, Leonora stated.
Ezabel reached with newfound energy, only to be interrupted.
“Pardon.”, Auguste spoke out. “Did you say Ezavel Grover?”
“I did. What of it?”, Leonora answered.
“Interesting!”, he turned to Ezabel. “My apologies for the interruption, but would you happen to be related to Xavier Grover?”
The knightstone, although presented, found itself superseded by Auguste’s inquiry. It was a wholly abrupt question that lifted Ezabel’s face with genuine curiosity. Auguste himself found no qualm in asking, and awaited her answer with visible interest. Even a minor expression of delight was about him.
“Captain Xavier Grover, you mean.”, Leonora corrected.
“What?”, Ezabel squawked. “Captain!?”
Her eyes fell wide, completely taken aback by the brief exchange. Even the remnants of the crowd behind had begun to stir. Their hushed voices and curious lean tickled at her back, much to her dismay. Just what she needed, more attention at a moment like this. It was a lot to process. Not only did she need to clear her mind. But, her brother was apparently a captain of the Order now!? How, if at all, was she supposed to focus on the task at hand? The courtyard just about spun around her until a different conversation caught her attention.
“Take a step back!”
Fervently, at the archway, a single guardsman held forth an open palm. No weapon had been drawn, but his posture was nonetheless vexed. He stood in the way of a man who leaned to one side and casted a curious look at those within the courtyard. Had it not been for his bandaged arm, Ezabel would not have guessed his place in the evening. But, it was clear that he was one of many that had failed the assessment earlier on. A participant in denial of his own shortcomings. Yet, she could not help but silently acknowledge his plight. She would feel the same sense of devastation if her own assessment ended the same.
He was of a lanky build; skin and bones underneath a loose jacket. There was a tick in his face that triggered every other second. His empty stare, nearly bulged out of his skull. Altogether, there was certainly something ‘off’ about his person. As if, he spent his days in a state of perpetual drunkenness.
“Please? Please!?”, the man cried. “I want to be an Attendant! I can become an Attendant!”
“You’ve already failed the assessment, try again next year!”, the guard replied.
“No, no! I’m telling you, there was something wrong with that Knightstone!”
“Away with you! Don’t force our hand!”
“I can handle its power!”, the man beckoned. “I can show you!”
“Leave, now!”
A second guard, then a third, stepped forward in a show of force. The man hunched over and winced, seemingly to himself. His sharp nose hid away behind raggedy sleeves and his legs stumbled as if they had no strength of their own. It was a strange, almost twisted sight. Then, his body fell still all at once.
“Look.”, he begged. “I don’t know why I couldn’t pass with that knightstone. But, I have one of my own. I’ve been practicing with it for months. Please, I can show you!”
Under his jacket and strung against a brown, raggedy necklace, dangled a spherical jewel. Had it not been for its dirtied, scratched, and cloudy appearance, most would have assumed it a sealstone. However, that much was rendered moot when it began to manifest a blackened haze. The man pleaded, but the ghastly aura of malevolent design sunk into his very skin.
“What are you doing? Cease at once!”
One after another, steel rang as the guards drew their swords. Each blade that was raised only served to coerce a mysterious anger out of him. It was clear in his expression; a scowl tipped with bared teeth and thick breath. His torso twisted and turned. The breaking of his bones snapped aloud in a grotesque symphony, only for them to be rearranged and rebuilt by a sudden film of darkness that overtook his body.
His shadow grew and casted an ominous shade that warped into a hulking mass of flesh. His throaty, low groan echoed, as if two voices spoke as one; it bellowed a grisly roar that nearly flattened his surroundings. Now before the guards, he stood twice their height, with arms so heavily changed that they could easily bear a tree for a club. They were muscled, and covered in a thin layer of blackened ichor that bubbled profusely, down to its clawed fingers. From its head and down its spine erupted a mountainous row of horns; all twisted and angular. His face had been changed into a dark and vacant facade, save for a deathly flow of red that flooded his murderous gaze. There was not a single hint of humanity left.
“What in the world--!?”
In seconds, the man had disappeared. In his place was a bounding, monstrous creature. The guardsmen lifted their blades in a futile effort. With a single swing of its talons, two had been cleaved in twain. And, in a bout of unhinged fury, the beast took hold of the third. Metal popped and contorted as it squeezed, mangling the guard before finally tossing him aside.
Steam poured from its sharp maw. Its chest pounded with a thousand, feral breaths. A bloody furor. A killing frenzy. - Its neck snapped and twisted, turning its crimson glare upon the courtyard.
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