Maverick awoke to a dying fire and heavy boots falling on the stone floor of the Great Hall. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and the drool from his chin then jumped to his feet.

“Next time you fall asleep on watch, you’ll find a boot in your face,” Sir Casimir yelled from across the hall.

Everyone was running about the hall doing important tasks to get ready to leave and Maverick once again felt ashamed. They had been working while he had been sleeping. “Never again,” he thought to himself. He would do everything he could to not let down the people around him.

“Maverick!” called Sir Percivale as he walked up to him. “Walk with me.” He pat him on the back and they walked through the long corridor they had entered through the previous night.

“Tell me,” Sir Percivale began, “what more have you to tell me of honor and filial piety?”

“Well, honor is like…not falling asleep on watch. It means to not let down the people around you who rely on you.”

“Very good,” Sir Percivale nodded. “Now, filial piety?”

“It’s like you said, sir; respect those who came before you. I never thought about what my parents went through for me before. I just always cared about what I wanted. And I understand that—but I don’t understand respecting those who are older than me who are bad people.”

A grin popped up on Sir Percivale’s face. “Very good, Maverick. Learn to see deeper into problems and to what others tell you. Filial piety must be reciprocal. If an elder does not live by honor but has gotten to older age by lying and cheating, they are not to be respected. In another example, a man once told me a story that I will share with you now.”

They walked into the stable and Maverick watched Sir Percivale groom and ready his horse for their journey.

“A young father and mother were struggling. They had three children, and he worked two jobs while she worked one as a maid to simply survive. One day, the man’s brother visited him and told him his father-in-law had a great sum of wealth locked away which has been the source of his carefree life.”

“The man could not believe it. The struggles he and his wife had gone through—were still going through—and his wife’s father had a great treasure horde! He left his job immediately and went to go tell his father.”

“When he arrived at his father’s house and told him what his brother had said, the father responded, ‘Hopefully he does not have more than me!’ The man, once again, could not believe it. Not only his father-in-law, but also his father had great sums of wealth! Now I ask you, Maverick, were the man’s feelings justified?”

Maverick had tried very hard to pay attention through the entire story and had a ready answer. “Yes! Why would a parent horde their wealth until they die and then give it to their child when their child is older and more likely to be able to take care of himself? It is better to take care of your child who is raising your grandchild when they need the help. It is like…being lost on the ocean without anything to help save you, then you spot an island, swim to the beach, and then someone brings you a boat. You don’t need the boat then!”

Sir Percivale laughed. “Quite right, lad. Now enough of this. We must be going. You have watched me ready my horse; go now into the next stall and ready that horse for yourself. We ride at the trumpet blast.”

Maverick was giddy. A horse of his own? He didn’t know how to ride, but he was getting his own horse! He ran to the next stall and copied everything Sir Percivale had done. He fumbled his way through some of it, but he managed and finally his horse was ready. And none too soon for the trumpet blasted a few minutes later.

He led his horse from the stall by the reins to where the other knights were. He found Sir Percivale and his Companions and walked over to them.

“Lad!” shouted Sir Baderic. “Supplies for our journey—” he threw two sacks at him tied together at the tops with rope. Maverick put them over his horse like he saw the others had done and tried mounting his horse.

But he couldn’t do it. He was too short. He felt that familiar anger rising inside him—the anger he had when he couldn’t do something. He tried four more times…all failures. He threw the reins away from him and stomped his foot on the ground.

Sir Percivale dismounted his horse, walked over to Maverick, and smacked him on the back of the head. “We do not act in such ways when we fail. We accept that we have shortcomings and try harder to solve them. Or ask others for help. Watch me.”

Maverick was still stunned from having his head hit by Sir Percivale’s heavy hand, but he watched as Sir Percivale put his left foot in the stirrup, grabbed the knobby thing on the saddle, and pulled himself up while swinging his leg over.

Maverick walked over to his horse again, determined this time to not give up. He did everything Sir Percivale did but couldn’t reach the knobby thing atop the saddle. So he grabbed whatever he could and pulled himself up.

Almost.

His feet came back to the ground, he let out a determined grunt, tried again…and got it! He sat on top of the horse with a great big smile on his face feeling like he just accomplished the hardest thing in the world.

“Bravo, lad,” Sir Percivale and his Companions cheered.

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The trumpet blasted again, and the dragon-hunting party took off down the stone road—sixty knights in all. They made for a magnificent sight in their gleaming armor, streaming banners, and rhythmic trotting of their horses.

Maverick quickly got used to controlling his horse. He copied what the others were doing with their reins and their feet and felt his horse responding the way he wanted.

After they had been riding for an hour, Maverick remembered what Sir Casimir had told him the night before and he rode up to Sir Percivale.

“Sir,” he said. “I was talking to Sir Casimir last night and I have some questions. He told me to ask you.”

Sir Percivale glanced over at Sir Casimir, who was purposefully avoiding his gaze. “Go ahead, Maverick.”

“What is Drak’uin? What’s a Dark Djinn? And what are the Fallen Creatures?”

Sir Percivale laughed. “Oh, is that all? It is good that we have a long ride. The Drak’uin is…the Drak’uin is the prophesy of how our world will end. The Dark Djinn is an entity the Great Fathers defeated and banished to Kindrathir after the Battle of Two Mountains. Kindrathir is the dark, swirling, misty bog we were all born from at the very northern edge of our world, and by pushing the Dark Djinn back to Kindrathir, it became a part of the darkness once more.”

“Before the Great Fathers arrived, our world was a dark one. Shadowy, mystical creatures ran rampant on my people, and we mostly lived underground to avoid them. When you learn how to handle a sword, I’ll tell you more.”

Maverick was confused. “Why do I have to learn how to handle a sword before you tell me the rest? I probably can’t even lift a sword!”

“Because it teaches you patience, lad. And when you’re in the chaos of battle, patience can be a great advantage.”

Maverick sighed. “Fine. I’ll wait till you teach me to use the sword. But you didn’t even tell me about the Fallen.”

“I know what I did and did not say. You do not need to know that yet. Focus on your lessons and handling a sword.”

That just frustrated Maverick more, but he bit his tongue. He decided to change the subject. “How long of a journey is it to the Anemis lands?”

“It is a three-month journey to those dark lands. And if I had my way, it would take longer. It does not bring me joy returning there.”

“Why? What’s so bad about that place?”

Sir Percivale looked lost in thought for a few moments. He finally broke his silence by only saying, “There are many great deeds to be done there. We ride in silence now.”

----------------------------------------

A long time passed, and Maverick discovered riding in silence to be very difficult. He had so many questions he wanted to ask but couldn’t. He found his mind wandering to a hundred different thoughts and places. He missed his parents again. He missed his sister, his dog.

Then, Sir Percivale surprised Maverick by asking him a question. “What is the land like that you come from Maverick?”

“Different. Much different than this place. There is no magic, nobody rides horses because they all drive cars, ummm…I don’t know. I just go to school and come back home really.”

“What are cars?”

“They’re like…big metal boxes with wheels and engines that takes us wherever we want.”

“Sounds like a different type of magic to me. What is this school you spend your days at?”

“I learn how to read, write, science, history, music…lots of things.”

Sir Percivale thought a moment. “What about physical activities? Who teaches you weaponry and to fight?”

“Well, no one. That’s not really needed in my world. We have sports, but I like books more. There are some people who fight, but not like you do here.”

“So, you are a land of thinkers with no military training? And your king…I mean your leader, what stops him from doing whatever he wants? What keeps him in check?”

Maverick shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m ten, I don’t care about things like that.”

Sir Percivale laughed. “And at what age are boys of your land supposed to care about that?”

“I…don’t know.” Maverick didn’t like the questions he was being asked. They made him feel stupid.

“Well, you may not have to know how to fight in your land, but here you must, otherwise you will not last long.” Sir Percivale lifted a trumpet to his lips and blew.

The sound of it was deafening to Maverick. When he took his hands away from his ears and opened his eyes, he saw all the knights had stopped and were dismounting.

Sir Percivale dismounted and said to Maverick, “We rest here for a brief while—” he tossed a scabbarded sword to Maverick— “but you will begin learning the sword. Follow me.”

They were stopped in an open plain with hills surrounding them. Sir Percivale led Maverick ways away from the others and then stopped.

“Attach the sword belt to your waist,” he commanded.

Maverick did as he was told then waited.

“You will never let your sword leave your side. You eat with it; you sleep with it. Your sword is your best friend. Everyone else’s sword is your enemy—including mine. Favors can turn in an instant, and one-time friends soon turn to enemies.” Sir Percivale unsheathed his sword and held it in front of his face with the tip pointed towards the sky. He motioned Maverick to do the same.

“Feel the weight of the sword. Allow it to become a part of you, so that when you are without it, you feel lost. Hold it in front of you, tip pointed at me.”

Maverick held it in front of him. It was heavy and his arm soon got tired.

“Do not let it drop!” Sir Percivale yelled at him.

Maverick held it and held it. His arms soon began shaking.

“Tighten your core muscles! Suck your stomach into your spine! HOLD IT!”

Maverick did everything he was told. He didn’t know how, but he held his sword in front of him till Sir Percivale finally said, “Drop!”

Sir Percivale then showed him some stretches to loosen up his body and workouts that he was to do every time he dismounted his horse: push-ups, lunges, carrying two bags of animal feed (for a distance the Sir Percivale said he would change every time), and holding his sword in front of him.

Sir Percivale finally took Maverick back to their horses and found many fire pits scattered around the field with the knights cooking a stew.

Sir Percivale found the Companions and walked towards them, with Maverick following. Sir Casimir had just finished making his famous rabbit stew, and the smell of it made Maverick even more hungry than he already was.

They all got their dishes and served themselves, then sat in a circle around the fire. The others talked about different things—the journey ahead, adventures they’d had in the past—while Maverick listened and gobbled up his soup.

Then Maverick saw Sir Rurik pass a vial to Sir Percivale, who then told Maverick to walk over to him.

“Yes, sir?” Maverick said hesitantly. His body was tired, and he didn’t want to do anymore training.

Sir Percivale held out his hand that contained the vial and said, “This is elixir from the streams of Glalindir. Place just one drop on your tongue each day until I tell you otherwise. Also, Sir Baderic will be your trainer. Along with the exercises and guidance I gave you, you shall do all he says. Now go on, eat more stew.”

Maverick thanked him, through a side-eyed glance at Sir Baderic that said ‘Please don’t break me too badly’, and got more soup. Before he ate it, he placed a drop of the elixir on his tongue, but he didn’t feel any difference. It made him wonder what the point of it was.

After eating and resting their horses, they put out the cooking fires, gathered their gear, and began the journey again.