Chapter 3: Lowborn slush

Zane looked out one of the windows, squinting. “Huh. If my eyes aren’t failing me, it looks like the blizzard’s finally let up.”

“At least we won’t have trouble seeing everything now,” Eoin remarked, as they walked together towards the exit. Then, he turned to Aoife. “Have you been assigned to a knight-mentor?”

“Yes. The registration officer said I am to squire under Ser Adaria.”

The tall blond beamed, throwing his arm around Eoin’s neck in a playful headlock. “Isn’t this great, Eoin?! Our cohort of squires is looking pretty incredible with Aoife on the roster too!”

The two friends walked ahead of Aoife, whose thoughts caused her to lag behind. She was still shaken by what she saw in the underground pathways. What was that? And did she actually see something, or was it just her imagination running wild?

Although the Dragonsong War was over, she knew that Coerthas was still plagued by various forms of strife. Bandits raiding smaller hamlets, some I’xali rogues that refused to conform to the truce brought forward by Ishgard, minor dragons without an alpha to guide them…

…Even black magic. Could that have been…?

She shook her head. As the guard assured her, if there was something down there, they would take care of it. She was neither knight nor soldier yet; that’s why she was here.

Eoin and Zane had already gone outside, and she didn’t want to fall behind. Aoife focused her attention on the exit and strode over to it. She reached a hand out to the heavy oaken door… then paused.

On the other side of this door was Camp Dragonhead—the campus of Dragonhead Academy. Ever since a herald came through her hamlet years ago, she had dreamed of becoming a squire here and graduating as a knight-errant. It wasn’t prestigious like the ones founded in the Holy See of Ishgard, but it gave the common Coerthan opportunity. And she was going to seize that opportunity. Right. Now.

She heaved open the door. Instead of a blizzard, it was the bright afternoon sun that blinded her. Aoife shielded her eyes for a moment as her sight got used to the contrast from having only torchlight to illuminate her surroundings just before.

But when they adjusted, her lavender eyes sparkled at the spectacle she beheld.

A far cry from the humble village she hailed from, Camp Dragonhead stood like a majestic monument. The stone walls surrounding the campus rose several stories high, looking impenetrable to any invading force of dragons, bandits, and other ne’er-do-wells. Several soldiers marched to and fro, directed by their sergeants, while others looked off-duty and ambled about. There were even merchants with their caravans and chocobos passing through—perhaps on their way to the Holy See of Ishgard. Before the war ended, merchants from outside Coerthas were a rare, or even unheard-of sight.

And of course, Aoife spied several individuals who looked no older than she was. They gave off the most carefree air amidst the other soldiers, sparring with each other, or simply having a snack on the stairs. Even their armor looked different from the standard chainmail afforded to the rank-and-file. They must have also been squires.

“Get a load of this place, Eoin!” Zane said, fanning his arms out in presentation. “It’s absolutely incredible!”

Eoin gave a subdued chuckle. “Well, our village isn’t nearly as fortified as Camp Dragonhead.”

“It’s one of the primary outposts of the Ishgardian military, under the supervision of House Fortemps,” Aoife said, joining them in taking in the sight. “I hear that Count Edmont is one of the more forward-looking nobles, and pushed for Dragonhead to be the academy’s main campus.”

Eoin directed his smile at her. “Thank the Fury for that. We’ll actually be able to do something with our lives other than hunting fauna and praying bandits don’t raid our homes.”

Although the shorter, brown-haired Hyur had kept an even keel since Aoife met him, a more excited air began to surround him. His smile broadened as he did a little twirl in front of them, arms spread out wide.

“Can you imagine it, Zane? In a few years’ time, we’ll be full-fledged knights—and really make something of ourselves!”

“You’re bloody righ—” Zane’s face abruptly dropped into a state of alarm. “Eoin! Watch where you’re—!”

Drunk on his rising enthusiasm, Eoin lost all spatial awareness. He didn’t see the young woman passing just behind him as he stumbled backwards. Just as he was regaining his sense of propriety, he collided with her.

“Aack!”

“Aah!”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

The two of them tumbled into the padded snow in a mess of flailing limbs.

Aoife hurried over to them, with Zane trailing right behind her. “Are you both all right?”

Once Eoin scrambled off of her, the female Hyur he had toppled over sat upright. She held a hand to her head of dark blue hair, sucking in a breath at the minor impact she felt. When she opened her frost-colored eyes, she looked far from pleased.

“What in the Fury’s name are you doing?!” she snapped at Eoin as he got back up. “Don’t you know how to use your eyes?”

“S-Sorry about that…” Eoin offered a hand to her.

She slapped his hand away, turning the motion into a dismissive wave. “No matter.”

Then she too rose to her feet and dusted off the residual snow from her clothes. She was wearing some kind of school uniform. There was no sort of school for malms around besides the one based here at Camp Dragonhead; this young woman must have been a squire too.

She placed her hands on her hips, her straight posture exuding a noble air as she addressed Eoin. “Name?”

Caught off-guard by her stern demeanor, Eoin hesitated as he answered. “Oh, uh… E-Eoin. Eoin Costigagh.”

The blue-haired Hyur seemed slightly taken aback by his response, the gaze of her frosty eyes stalling for a moment. But the implications of the reply settled in a moment later, prompting her surprise to melt into a sneer. She crossed her arms, adjusting herself just enough so that she no longer fully faced him directly.

“Hmph. What kind of a name is that?”

“What—What do you mean?”

The young woman stuck up her nose. “That’s far from a name you commonly hear within the Holy See. Names like Costigagh are usually heard on the outskirts of Coerthas. Which makes you…”

She trailed off and paused for effect as she regarded him with a disgusted, sidelong glance. “…nothing but lowborn slush.”

Although her offense jarred Eoin into a moment of shock, prompted a much more aggressive reaction from Zane. The tall blond Hyur reflexively drew his greatsword and jammed it into the snow alongside his friend like a stake of challenge.

“You got a problem with that?” Zane growled. “Who in the seven hells are you?”

“Leanne of the noble House Bellameaux,” she replied, with no reservation in her tone. “And I will thank you not to draw your sword in this encampment if you have no cause.”

“Keep talking, princess; maybe you’ll give me the cause I need.”

Leanne rolled her eyes. “Such barbarism. Have you no other resort but violence to your problems? Perhaps you’ll find sport with the snapjaws that roam beyond these walls.”

Before anyone else could retort, she turned on her heel and faced away. “I haven’t the time to deal with you. Good day.”

Zane sheathed his sword at his back, his expression softening again as he turned to Eoin. “That was two hells of a first encounter.”

Eoin looked at himself self-consciously, then deflated with a sigh. “You’re telling me…”

Aoife patted him on the shoulder and offered a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t we take a stroll around campus? We still have some time before sixteenth bell.”

The three new squires took their time as they meandered about campus. They gained much of their bearings in the span of a bell, spotting key places they would be frequenting—the mess hall, their dorms, and the various training areas. There were also plenty of on- and off-duty soldiers milling about, happy to tell them a bit more about campus.

Although his mood had lifted a bit in that time, Eoin still displayed a bit of gloom on his face. He seemed to be taking his encounter with Leanne fairly harshly and heaved a deep sigh as sixteenth bell approached.

“Are you still fretting over that prickly dame?” Zane asked.

When Eoin simply and sullenly nodded, Aoife patted a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure not everyone is like that. Citizens of the Holy See tend to be a bit more uptight. I remember when a young noble master came to our village once. He demanded the finest mutton we could offer—because he had run away from home and he was hungry.”

“That feels unreasonable,” Eoin remarked candidly.

“But I’m sure there are plenty of more amicable squires here on campus too.”

Zane beamed and smacked his friend jovially on the back. “Aoife’s got the right of it, mate. Most people are agreeable enough if you give them a chance.”

His blue eyes wandered towards two attractive young woman wearing the same uniform Leanne had. They must have been squires too. When they looked his way, he gave them a suave wink. In a brief fluster of blushes and giggles, the two girls offered him shy little waves as they hurried off. Zane had that kind of confident appeal, and he wasn’t afraid of flaunting it.

“Who knows,” he said, turning back to Eoin. “You might even find yourself a girlfriend out here.”

“You, maybe…” Eoin said quietly.

With Zane’s flamboyant personality, Aoife got the sneaking feeling this topic was going to turn to her next and decided to nip it in the bud. “I-It’s near sixteenth bell. I think one of the soldiers said Ser Adaria’s classroom was up these stairs.” She started quickly pacing up the stairs.

“How many people are in our squire cohort?” Eoin asked, following her. “Do you know?”

“I can’t imagine that any knight-mentor has enough time to deal with too many squires at once,” Aoife reasoned. “My guess is somewhere between three and six.”

“Yeah, that’s not a whole lot…”

They reached the top of the stairs and approached the door situated along the wall. Aoife made to open it.

“Quality over quantity, mate,” Zane said, holding up his forefinger in matter-of-fact fashion. “I bet our squire cohort is only made up of the most incredible people!”

When the door opened, they all piled in. And as it slowly swung shut again, the looks on each of their faces couldn’t be more shocked by who they saw inside the classroom with them. The female Hyur with dark blue hair turned to them, her own surprise mirroring theirs. It was Leanne.

Zane’s face fell into a scowl. “You can’t be bloody serious.”

Leanne turned away from them slightly in her chair as her shock subsided and crossed her arms over her chest. While there wasn’t any kind of smile to be found on her face, the air she exuded was all too tangibly smug.

“Coerthas’s drawn-out winter must finally be coming to an end,” she said. “I didn’t realize how much slush would slip into this place.”

Zane stormed up to her. “Call us that again—I dare you!”

Eoin and Aoife hurried over to stop him. “Zane, wait—”

The door swung open once more, causing each of them to reflexively turn to it. Striding through the doorway was an Elezen woman taller than Zane, with long curls of brown hair and piercing eyes of the same color. In her well-tailored garb, the very air of the room seemed to make way for her presence. The new squires knew immediately who it was.

It was Ser Adaria, their knight-mentor.