The cold morning wind slides off Gabriel's face. Followed by one of Cedric's guards he runs through the high city. The streets are devoid of activity, spare the occasional sentinel. Shops are opening with the sunrise.
It has been a week since he arrived in Stormwatch. Running every morning he learned the layout of the city near his home. Wide and long streets of paved stone edge with large mansions and houses. He spotted the positions and morning patrol patterns of the sentinels.
He's like to do the same in the evening, but Cedric told his guards to not let him.
"Are you going to run for long?" the soldier behind him asks Gabriel. His footsteps are heavy, his armor clattering with each of them.
Gabriel slows down to the man's level. "I could start running at my speed. But I fear you wouldn't be able to follow," Gabriel jests.
"The competition is this afternoon. Shouldn't you preserve your strength."
Gabriel and the soldier had been watching sparing sessions between other youngsters. "We both saw how weak they are," Gabriel says.
"You underestimate your opponents, Alden. There are others, some of whom trained since birth. Some who went adventuring. And we know of a marshal who trains a pupil your age," the soldier says. His words come shallow, his breaths labored.
Gabriel whispers, "The plan isn't to get first place. To join, I just need to meet the physical and martial requirements. I must show greater ability than most because I adventured for years. But would I show my real strength, I would attract unwanted attention."
"It sounds like Cedric's words," the soldier jests.
"It's because they are his." Gabriel gaze turns to a sentinel watching from a balcony. He comes to a stop. "I've been meaning to ask. What are those engravings, are they family emblems?" Gabriel asks.
The soldier glance at the sentinel, seeing the silver dire wolf on his chest plate. "Those are marks only those who killed these beasts by themselves, can bear," he explains. "They do not have the education, or leadership to climb the ranks. But their strength doesn't go unnoticed."
"I know someone who does something like that," Gabriel says.
The soldier glances behind them. "If think there's one of your opponents behind us," he murmurs.
Gabriel turns around to see a woman carrying an imposing shield in her back. A steel, face like mask hides her features. Worn out bandages wrap her arms. A thick plate and chainmail armor covers the rest of her body. An imposing longsword rests in her shield. Yet, her steps are quiet, and make her seem light.
Behind her Gabriel sees a young girl with short chestnut hair. She wears a lighter armor of leather and chainmail. She carries a thin long sword at the waist. Her gaze is unfocused, her mind occupied elsewhere. Gabriel catches a shimmer of light blinking along her armor. Her lips twitch in irritation, and she locks eyes with Gabriel, embarrassed.
The woman steps pass Gabriel, his ring recoiling at her approach. But he doesn't need it to feel the magic coursing through her. Her aura clings to her like a dense shield rushing along her body. It tries to push Gabriel's body aside, sending a shiver down his spine. She halts her steps. Her mask distorts her voice as she says, " This one shall be a worthy challenge for you."
The girl's attention switches from Gabriel to the woman, and to Gabriel again. "Hi, I'm Nerys," she greets him with a bright tone.
"Alden," Gabriel responds.
Nerys looks back at the woman. She asks, "Can I fight him here?"
The soldier steps forward, his hand on his sword's handle. The beginning of a word exits his lips. The woman's aura widens, making him kneel under the weight, stopping him from voicing his injunction.
Gabriel barely stands as his body weight feels tripled. His sight bloodies and he forces his gaze downward.
She shuts down her aura, releasing Gabriel, the soldier, and the sentinels who rushed to them. Turning to Gabriel she asks, "Will you participate in today's competition?"
Gabriel sight pulsates red. He hangs to his consciousness, trying to regain control. Nerys walks up to him. He stops an instinctive movement as his arm tries to catch the soldier's sword. With a few more breath he's back in control. He turns to the woman. "I will," he answers.
"You'll face each other during the competition. Do not disappoint, I will be watching," threatens the woman.
Nerys smiles. "Let's both win till we fight each other, okay?"
Gabriel grins, surprised by the thirst for combat gleaming in her eyes. "I'm sure we will," he confirms.
The woman resumes her steps, and Nerys quickly follows. Leaving, she waves and says, "See you soon."
The soldier moves to Gabriel, his gaze locked on the woman. He says, "Fuck, who was that?!"
The sentinels around them scatter to their watch points. Their attention stays on the woman. One of them leaves in a hurry, disappearing in a nearby street.
"I think I know who she is," Gabriel hesitantly says.
The soldier attention snaps to Gabriel. "What?" he gasps.
The loud sound makes Gabriel relapse, an ultimate pulsation of red filling his sight. Gabriel resumes his run, calming himself with each step. The soldier catching up to him, he explains, "I think she's the Nameless Guide. A figure of the lore of some heroes. She seeks out those she has foreseen in visions. Individuals marked by extraordinary fates. And guides them on their paths."
"Is the girl meant to be some hero, then?" inquires the soldier.
Gabriel sight mixes with his imagination, reenacting parts of stories he read. "Not necessarily. She might never become a widely recognized hero. It could be that she'll play a small, yet pivotal role, one that quietly alters the course of history."
The soldier exhales deeply, skepticism in his voice. "I don't like fate. Our future is ours to shape."
"There have been times where she was wrong," Gabriel admits. "I've read of a protégé who defied his destiny, who forged a path of his own choosing. Contrary to what she envisioned for him."
"I like that better," says the soldier.
Gabriel adds, "It's mostly because she told him about her visions. Only when he knew his fate, was he able to change it. Since then, she has kept them secret."
The soldier ponders for a moment. "If you ignore it, it could be anything," he says.
"I guess so. But in this case, someone else is aware of what's supposed to happen," says Gabriel.
"So, her fate is real, but she can't change it. That … feels even worse," the soldier concludes.
Gabriel sees the outlines of the Ashencrown's house in the distance. "See you home," he says before running at his speed. The soldier hastens but falls behind, soon loosing Gabriel.
Early morning Cedric and Gabriel join a long queue leading to a vast open arena. A gigantic statue of Fulgrim, the god of justice, shadows them. There, soldiers put young people between the ages of thirteen and seventeen to the test. Batches of them run around the arena on a circular dirt track. An area tests their strength with stone weights to pull up, carry, drag, and push. Arrows rain on an archery field, some hitting their marks, other hitting the wood palisade protecting the crowd. Duels against soldiers unfold on the side. A horse track is set up on the side of the arena. And a sand alley serves to test their ability to throw spears.
The gathered crowd varies from uptight wealthy staring at their child, to humble farmers. The event is the occasion for the contestants' families to enter the high city. There sits the Nameless Guide, left alone by the spectators.
Soldiers sporting golden griffons on their shoulders stand at the center of the arena. From their elevated wide square of stone tiles they take notes, watching the trials. They are armigers, an officer rank only accessible to squires with outstanding marshal abilities.
The wait feels eternal. When noon arrives, they finally reach the end of the line.
Sat at a table a guard is taking note of everyone entering the competition. "Paper, please," he asks. As Gabriel hands him his identification the guard fills out a parchment with predawn sections. He hands it to a sergeant on the side, waiting with a stack of other parchments.
Counting the papers, the sergeant motions at a group of nine contestants waiting on the side. He orders, "Follow me!" He motions Gabriel to join them.
"You can join the spectators Sir," the first guard informs Cedric.
Their accompanist guides the group to the archery field. Guards quicky give each of them a bow and three arrows. The sergeant sits at a table, ordering the parchment before him. He pulls out a quill resting in an inker on the table. "Each of you will shoot three time at their own target."
Round straw training targets are set up twenty meters away from a fence. They all take place before one of them. Gabriel pulls the string of his bow. It fells light compared to the ones he usually trains with. He aims higher to compensate and release the arrow. It whizzles above and past the target. His neighbors scoff as their arrows pierce the edges of their targets.
Gabriel thinks that the targets are far for beginners, and seeing the other's result the passing mark must not be high. Yet with only two arrows left he cannot risk to fail because of his first shot. Unfazed Gabriel arms another arrow, correcting his aim. It hits dead center. He shots the last one in the exact same manner and almost hits his second arrow.
The sergeant notes all their results. He seems unhappy seeing the ungrouped, sometime missing arrows of the contestants. Looking at Gabriel's target he asks, "Why did you miss your first shot?"
Gabriel is unsure how to answer the question but decides to be truthful. "I am used to heavier bows, Sir." A few kids who struggled to pull theirs look bewildered.
"Shoot another one," orders the sergeant. A soldier brings another arrow to Gabriel.
He purposefully shoots it to the right, hitting at a fourth of the target's center. The sergeant takes note and rises from his seat. The soldiers take back to bows and move to the targets.
The sergeant stops at the strength test where weights of different size await them. They are set in ascending order, separated in different categories of exercises.
"First grab this bar with your hands and pull yourselves up until you can't anymore," the sergeant orders, pointing at a metal bar held high.
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One by one they try their best. Gabriel gazes upon the sergeant's papers, noticing that he notes the number of repetitions. When they are lower than ten, he crosses out the entire section.
Gabriel grabs on the bar and pulls himself up twelve times. As he let's go of the bar the sergeant orders, "Go back up, it was barely an effort for you."
Gabriel goes back on the bar. He loses himself in his thoughts, those people are specifically here to gauge their abilities. Trying to hide them to much might attract attention. He snaps back to reality. having lost count, he does ten more and goes back down.
The other kids look shocked, and so does the sergeant. He writes down a number and orders the next kid up with a motion. Sergeants watching other groups exchange words while glancing at Gabriel.
"Next, pick the weigh you can carry while walking. Alden, you take the heaviest one," the sergeant orders.
Blocks of stone are strapped with leather straps, mimicking a backpack. Gabriel picks up the largest, which is heavier than the usual basket of stones he carries while running.
They all place themselves in a row. The sergeant explains, "You'll run back and forth from this line to the other one. Each time I whistle those who did not make it back step away. understood?"
They all acknowledge. "Begin," he orders.
Gabriel copies the fastest contestant's pace. Each time he turns back after the second line he sees that the sergeant's gaze is upon him.
The spans of time separating two whistles increasingly shorten. One after the other they do not meet the timing and go on the side. Only Gabriel and his speed reference remain. Gabriel notices that the sergeant stopped accelerating. Instead, he willingly times his whistles to keep them running.
Gabriel hears the other one heavy breaths and steps. He slows down when turning at the second line, creating a gap. The sergeant whistle drops Gabriel. Yet, his gaze lingers of Gabriel.
The sergeant whistles early, eliminating the last contestant. "Five minutes break. Stay here," he orders before moving to another sergeant. They speak with each other, too far for Gabriel to hear.
The one who ran the longest walks up to Gabriel. "You barely sweating," he gasps.
"You should preserve your strengths, we have a lot of trials left," Gabriel says.
The young boy brushes back his drenched pale blond hair. He smiles and says, "Yeah, I should have stopped earlier. I'm Darius." He holds his hand before Gabriel.
"Alden," Gabriel answers, shaking his hand.
The sergeant motions Gabriel to come over. Flanked by another sergeant he yells, "I hate slackers! Fulgrim oversees these grounds, where those who came before you spilled their sweat, tears, and blood to surpass themselves. Do the bare minimum again, and I fail you. Understood ?!"
Gabriel sight shifts to Cedric in the tribunes. He snaps back to the sergeant and answers, "Yes!"
They walk back to the group and the sergeant then guide them to a spear throwing alley. "Each of you take a spear and throw it as far as you can," he orders. Before them is a long sand box than spans forty meters long. Soldiers stand on the sides, estimating the results for the sergeants.
Gabriel takes the spear handed to him. The sergeant gaze is unyielding. He arches back, using his entire body to throw the spear like Owen. The weapon flies above the sand box reaching its apex near the end of it. It falls in the tribunes, where no one had the idea to sit.
"How far away is that?" a soldier asks to himself.
"Seventy something," another guesses.
Gazes from the tribunes, the armigers, the soldiers and sergeants, and the other contestants fall on Gabriel.
Gabriel stands silently on the side, waiting for the others to finish. Among the see of gazes that fell on him, he feels none more that the Nameless Guide's. She stares him down from the tribunes.
The next trial is a series of duels to the first blow against soldiers, using various weapons. "Good to see you again Alden," the soldier facing Gabriel says.
"Horton," Gabriel says recognizing the voice. "Isn't it an issue for you to test me?"
"I'm not the one judging your performance," Horton says tossing Gabriel a dull longsword.
Gabriel takes the most neutral of stance taught by Rajan. Keeping a clause guard, he moves in, negating Horton reach advantage. They blades glide off each other in a battle to open the opponent's defense. Horton's technique is excellent. Gabriel couldn't pierce his guard without showing his true swordsmanship.
Horton faints calling Gabriel to parry high before slashing at his legs. Gabriel stomps on the blade, prying it from Horton's hands, bringing it to the ground. Gabriel slashes at Horton's midsection but he steps closer, blocking Gabriel's arms with his left. Horton punches at Gabriel chest. Gabriel frees his left hand and deflects the blow. Without stop Gabriel reserves his grip on the blade and slashes at Horton's leg.
They both stop as Gabriel attack lends at the same time Horton's left fist hits Gabriel's head.
"You fought men before? You didn't hesitate a single instant." Horton asks in a whisper.
Gabriel hesitates. "I'd have hesitated if it was a real blade." he answers.
They separate, realizing they are last to finish. Everyone switches, each contestant rotating to the next soldier. The soldier before Gabriel bares no weapon and little armor. "Hand to hand, the first one on the ground loses," the soldier says.
The sergeant whistles. The soldier guards high and throws a kick at Gabriel's knee. Gabriel moves in and punches the soldier's own knees, drawing a muffled scream. He sweeps the soldier standing leg, grabbing the still extended one and pushing it away. The soldier falls on his back.
Gabriel stands above him offering a helping hand. The soldier rises, moving his knee around to ease the pain. "Where did you learn to fight?" the soldier asks.
"Taverns," Gabriel answers.
They rotate again, Gabriel grabbing the blunt spear and shield left by the previous challenger. The soldier before him thrusts his spear relentlessly. Gabriel focuses solely on blocking his blows without trying to repost. The large shield absorbs impact after impact until the sergeant orders to rotate.
Gabriel faces a soldier in leather armor juggling daggers between is fingers. While the others are clean shaven, he sports a thick black bear and long hair. Gabriel grabs the daggers laying on the ground.
The sergeant whistles and neither of them jumps him. Their guards up they faint and parry, each trying to get to the other's hands. Their bodies move in short, unpredictable dashes. Unfamiliar with daggers Gabriel mimics the soldier stance and grip.
"You fight like a thieve," the soldier says.
Gabriel smirks. He thrusts his right blade at the soldier hand but his daggers swirls around Gabriel hand, hitting his wrist.
"Strange for a soldier to use daggers," Gabriel says.
The soldier smiles. "I mainly use a bow," he says. "I'm a scout, we prefer efficiency other the image we send."
The sergeant orders to rotate and Gabriel joins the ones waiting for their turn.
Along the arena is an enclosed dirt field were competitors show their riding skill. One after the other they traverse a field of obstacles ranging from palisades to slaloms.
A soldier asks every participant their level of experience before handing them a horse. They are five horses, increasingly bigger and more agitated.
When come Gabriel turns the soldier asks, "Have you ever ridden a horse?"
Gabriel feels the sergeant unwavering expectations. "I have a few years of experience."
"Years?" the soldier laughs before looking at the sergeant.
"Four," confirms Gabriel.
With a nod of the sergeant the soldier pulls out a magnificent black stallion who stomps back trying to free his lead. The soldier hands Gabriel the lead who holds the horse in place. The beast is neighing, rearing, and stomping frenetically.
Gabriel takes support on a stirrup and climbs the horse in a flash. It bolts forward and violently stops. It rears up and kick in the air to dismount Gabriel. The animal jerks his head side to side, starring at Gabriel with bloodshot eyes.
Gabriel sight flashes red for a second and and the horse staggers. It calms down, and its head down starts following Gabriel guidance. Felled the horse traverses the obstacle track without a noise and stops before its box's gate.
"I've nether saw him scarred like that before," the soldier says. Opening the gate, he turns to Darius and asks again, "Have you ever ridden a horse?"
"Since I was five," Darius answers.
The soldier silently asks for the sergeant permission again, and then orders Gabriel, "Give him Dusk."
Gabriel steps down the horse and offers Darius the lead. Darius takes the horse head in his hand and with a few muted words the horse kneels. As Darius sets himself on Dusk's saddle the horse rises. It's head high Dusk aces the parkour at high speed. When Darius brings it back to its box he says, "Thank you."
Gabriel is stupefied by the ease with which Darius guided Dusk. And so are all the other spectators. That boy, barely above average in every other discipline, talked with that animal.
The sergeant guides them to the running track. "This track is five hundred meters long. You all have to parkour it at least ten times while running. You only stop when you are exhausted," he explains. He put emphasis on his last words, looking at Gabriel.
To Gabriel a five kilometers run in nothing. He keeps a steady pace, going faster than the others but focusing on the other trials. As time goes by, he notices the arrival of particular contestants, bypassing the wait. Even during the trials, private soldiers accompany them. One of them, a girl with long blond hair, bests Gabriel in precision and agility. Another, a boy with short brown hair, outdoes Gabriel in raw strength.
As Gabriel is the last of his group to run, Nerys' group joins him. She zips past him as she bolts thought the track. Her steps are light, yet she develops great strength with each of them. In only fifteen minutes she finishes her tenth lap. She goes for another one and slows down to Gabriel's pace.
"How long have you run for?" she asks, her breaths sporadic.
"That will be my thirtieth lap," he calmly answers, his respiration steady.
Gabriel's sergeant starts to look irritated, grimacing with every sergeant leaving for the end of their shift.
Gabriel offers, "Should be sprint for the rest of the run. See who's the fastest."
"Three, two, one, go!" Nerys counts down.
They both bolt down the track, passing several times the same contestants. Gabriel doesn't hold back and yet Nerys is slowly gaining ground. She stops after an added five laps, having distanced Gabriel by fifty meters. He stops as well, to the delight of his sergeant.
"Finally! Go to your families and wait with them. You'll all know who we keep it two to three hours," he says before leaving.
Gabriel joins back Cedric who's reading a book titled, 'The economics of black markets'. One of Cedric pretend servant is sat next to him with a basket of food.
"You could have attracted less attention," Cedric notes.
Gabriel takes an apple, silently thanking the servant. "The sergeant realized I was pretending. He thought I was a slacker and threatened to fail me," he explains. He takes a seat, and while eating asks, "Who are those two, they are stronger than me." He nods towards the blond girl and the brown boy.
Cedric gazes at the pair, "The boy's name is Tristan Blackwood. Generation of exceptional warriors come from his family."
Gabriel asks, "As in Edric Blackwood, the royal blade?"
"Indeed. The girl is Ophelia Starling, she's an adventurer who saved a village from a gnoll invasion on her way here. And as for your friend, I only know what Jasper reported from this morning," Cedric says.
Gabriel arches back on the tributes, laying on the stone stairs. "I definitely passed their requirements. But now, I won't be able to fake being weak during the duels."
"And I'm certain they already qualified you for the Gauntlet of Valor," Cedric says.
Gabriel is surprised. "What's that?"
Cedric explains, "A test the most promising warriors take after entering the army. I don't know much more, except that the ones who succeed usually become prized assets for Barnes."
"It could have been the plan from the beginning," Gabriel quips.
Cedric reluctantly says, "I underestimated how strong you were."
Times passes slowly as they wait for the trials to finish. As the sun sets an armiger calls the participants to reform their groups. The center of the arena fills with small groups. Armigers go from one group to another, dismissing those who failed. When comes the turn of Gabriel's group only he and Darius remain. The arena only keeps a fourth of the contestants. The armigers order them to form an ordered group on the central square.
After a short time, an imposing figure sheathed in gleaming, gilded armor approaches. A palpable tension fills the air with his every step toward the arena. An aura emanates from him, compelling onlookers to avert their eyes, making them unable to even peek at his visage. Gabriel, who had grown too familiar with his father's formidable essence, had forgotten the weight of such a presence. It's a commanding force that demands reverence and etches each spoken word deeply into the memory of those who hear him.
He places himself in front of them. Removing his helmet, he reveals a face none can look at. His piercing eyes survey the new recruits. "I, Edric Blackwood, royal blade of king Barnes, and champion of Vale, welcomes you in the ranks of our army. You are about to embark on a journey that will test and shape your very being." He pauses, allowing his words to resonate among the ranks. "You will face challenges that will push you beyond your limits. You will not just be soldiers. You will be protectors of our realm, guardians of our people, and the vanguard of our future." His gaze lingers on the faces before him. "So, wear your armor with pride, wield your weapons with honor, and carry the banner of Vale with unwavering loyalty. Tonight, you start your path as soldiers, but tomorrow, you may rise as heroes of the kingdom."
As his words echo in Gabriel mind, he can't stop himself from remembering the illusion of the demon who slaughtered Vale's armies. All of them here would have suffered the same fate, anonym and unremarkable.
Edric Blackwood, holding his helmet under his arm, turns and gestures for an armiger to step forward. The armiger addresses the group, announcing, "Tomorrow, you will engage in duels to demonstrate your combat skills. Your potential assignments are pre-determined, yet there are limited openings for each. The rankings from tomorrow's duels will determine the order in which you get to select your first assignment. Rest well."
With that they all slowly disperse. Darius waves goodbye to Gabriel as he leaves the arena alone.
Gabriel joins Cedric who almost finished his book. The two of them walk back into the high city streets from the cortege going to the inner wall.
"We are being followed," Cedric whispers.
Gabriel sneakily glances at where Cedric nods. A man, wearing a dark mantle, shadows them from afar. Gabriel asks, "What do you want to do?"
"Nothing as long as he only observes us," Cedric whispers back.
In unspoken agreement they select the broadest avenues available. They intentionally detour past a heavily guarded position where sentinels stand watch. Their pursuer sometimes disappears behind buildings to reappear further along their path.
As he disappears once more Cedric motions Gabriel to a pool of shadows in an alley. They wait patiently until they see the man edging an alley, seeking them. He panics and leaves in a hurry.
"That was a mercenary from the merchant guild," Cedric whispers.
"How do you know?" Gabriel asks.
"Finlay described someone like that last month. Let's get home," Cedric says before guiding them through the alleys to the Hearthstone Way.
After a delightful meal of beef tongue and varied vegetables Gabriel quickly falls asleep. On alert the guard change their positions, taking turns to watch those who sleep throughout the night.