“Ellaria!” a large and cheery woman calls out to us as we approach the gate. She had been playing cards with some of the off-duty guards on a large empty barrel next to the gate but was now running towards us. Almost without stopping she scoops us both into a huge hug causing the two guards by the gate to laugh. My mother had a reputation for being an ice queen from even before she had met my father but I was sure it was her grimace at being hugged by the shorter woman that caused their laughter. Even I giggled a little despite knowing she might stretch the” no injury” rule next time we spared.
We quickly got waved through the gate and into the city with a few last glares at the smiling guards. “I’ll go and sell some fur and those monster cores in the market. You can go and see your friends.” She says to me, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small pouch” take this for anything you may need.” The pouch contains two silvers five coppers and eight reds. Reds are small alloy coins coloured red. They had the lowest value of all coins. Everything in this pouch could feed a poor man for most of a week and a rich man for a minute. We rarely used these coins but still collected them, so despite our humble lifestyle we were by no means poor.
Walking away from the main road, I began to navigate the twisting backroads of the city. I am by no means familiar with them, but I know this one rout. I had gotten entirely lost in these once which is how I met my friends. I will soon reach my destination, a shop. The place came into view sparkling clean but had clearly seen better days. Above the door a faded sign, proudly decorated with flowing text and the picture of a book proclaims the store Iscor’s. It was run by my two friends Henry and Cameron Iscor. Opening the door, I am greeted by a polite boy who I have never met before. “welcome to Iscor’s store of the written arts.” he says proudly, bowing to me.” how may I help you?”
“I’d like to see Henry if I could” I reply with an identical bow in his direction just as I see someone walk through the door behind him. “Nathan! That is my friend I told you about” the two people had the same golden skin often seen in the great desert country to the west combined with the same golden hair. I always thought it made them look like the beautiful statues they put in the lord’s home but they were often insulted for it. “Cameron!” I call as we clasp arms at the elbow, a traditional western greeting. “How are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m dying with excitement!” I reply smiling.
“and you’re smiling, it must be a symptom.” He responds with deadly seriousness placing his hand on my forehead as we burst into hysterics. “Come and sit down. Do you want a cup of our famous house blend?” he continues as we settle down. “You know I do. who is Nathan? Did you scoop him off the street?” I probe my friend with a few questions. After a short giggle, he says “you don’t beat around the bush, do you? We were doing quite well so we decided to hire a door-boy. Nathan was a perfectly good choice and, besides, he needed the job.”
This was one of the boys that found me and taught me how to read and write for free. They also shared my passion for mage craft but had no talent. They could never become mages without expensive elixirs to open their mana channels, something outside of their means to purchase, not that it would mean much without a proper magical education. The other was Henry and from the looks of things he was absent.
“So, you are here for the rangers’ trials. I saw some of the competition and if even a few of them are succeeding, then I am sure you will.” He says “good luck tomorrow.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Getting up I reply, “Thanks, but I think you should get back to that shop before a customer comes in.” then we separate and I begin to walk towards the front of the store and then remember something. “Cameron!” I call back to him, scrambling through my pack. “I almost forgot, here is that rush-weed you asked for last time” I threw him a small pouch. “Now you can finish that map you have been scribbling.”
“Thank you.” He shouts back as I walk away swinging the pack back onto my back. Time to meet some other trainee rangers for the first time.
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I run fast towards the rangers’ guild, weaving through the wood and stone maze of the city. It would not be hard to find it as it is close to the gate we entered by. I also never expected the trials would start tomorrow. I thought we may have had at least a week in the city first. I hiss in annoyance. I would not be able to enact my incredible plan to gather hints on the exam and friends among the other participants. I would also not have much time to spend with Henry and Cameron. It could not be helped I would have to face the unknowns alone.
Ahead of me I see the rangers’ guild. It is a small discreet building set into the outer wall, built of the same messy but solid looking stonework mixed with wood of the buildings surrounding it. Finding it would almost be the first challenge if it were not so easy to find someone happy to tell you the way. Approaching the building causes makes me tremble with the excitement and a fear. Opening the solid oak door would lead me to the unknown. Another step down the path I have been on my whole life.
It creaked open to a slightly dim interior that was clearly larger than it appeared on the outside. “It must have been built into the wall,” I think to myself amazed at the craftsmanship that would allow such a simple looking building to support even a portion of the weight of such a wall. In the room, there was a single desk and a few doors leading to the nearby buildings. At the desk sat a man. He was strange, with gaunt features, supporting a pair of elegant spectacles and deathly pale skin. His nails ended in points and clicked against the wood of his desk whilst his undivided attention was fixed to the book he was scribbling in.
As I am unsure how to approach such a man I decide to stand where I am until his attention wavers from his work. I stood for some time before he stopped, stretching, with a pleased expression that contrasts so violently with his appearance it makes me giggle. He jumps back with surprise evident on his face straight into his chair which simply gives way, leaving him on the floor with his legs waving in the air. It is so funny I switch from simply giggling to full blown hysterics. “Don’t laugh!” he calls, still struggling. ”help me!” I walk forwards and push his chair upright, still laughing. “what are you doing here.” he demands, trying to appear stern but dignified. “I’m here to apply for the trials.” I tell him honestly. “you’re a bit late but I can sign you up.” He states with a matter of fact tone muttering something under his breath about children.
“Do you have anything to identify yourself with?” he asks, peering down at me over the place his glasses would be were they not on the floor behind him. I fumble through my pockets and draw out my birth coin. It is something that gives conformation of the age and identity of the wearer whilst identifying them as out of bounds for slavers, not that it would stop one. “hmph” the man responds quickly noting something down in his book. “you are allowed to attempt the trials. Until they start tomorrow, you will be staying here, 3rd door on the left. You may not leave this building without risk of disqualification. Also, a piece of advice, in return for your silence on what happened just now: don’t get too comfortable, you will regret it in the morning. Sleep light.”
I almost feel that I misheard the last part as I grabbed my bag and followed his bony finger to one of the doors. Suddenly, I remembered how my mother had not told me where we would be staying this evening. “She knew!” I cried out in my mind.