Boren continued to sprint along corridor after corridor, changing direction as many times as he dared before his Stamina ran out, and he had no choice but to rest. Then as soon as he had recovered around ten per cent, he would be off again. Pushing past his limit and running after his Stamina bottomed out did make him lose a little Health each time. It was painful and taxing on his body and mind, but the gains were equally worthwhile. Each time he did, there was a slight chance of gaining a point of Endurance. It was small, but even a single point would be worth the time spent at this stage of his development.
All his stats had increased. Unfortunately, Luck had also “matured” over the days of training at his mother’s hand. But for the first time that he could remember, his stats were increasing faster than they were decreasing. Boren thanked Ursa that his life span was not calculated, including luck. But the chance that something would fall on his head and end things was exponentially more likely than for anyone else. A helpless sigh escaped his lips, and he simply continued.
The time for being disheartened with his lot was over, now was the time for growth, and then once he was strong enough, perhaps he could find a solution to his Luck problem.
“I can’t believe my stats have improved so much lately. It might be the most spectacular training regiment ever!” Boren had paused in his sprinting as his Health started dropping, but he was so used to the dull ache that he paid it no mind. He found he talked aloud when he was alone more and more to help him order his thoughts. Almost half a year had passed since his ninth birthday, so much had changed. Training with his mother, Haemish coming to the castle to stay, and that little creature that Haemish wanted to introduce him to, among other things. “Oh my, Ursa! I didn’t even think of it before. But…what if?”
The young lad bit his lip as he started up sprinting again. This time it was not the aimless wanderings of training, and no, he already had a destination in mind.
The corridors were so numerous they had to be remembered by numbers. As he counted off in his head-corridor 15 Northbound, then 34 West, 22 North and then 15 West again, there it is! He ran full tilt toward the immense golden doors with the family crest, the sacred Ohuru tree. It was said to be the original giver of life, borne of the earth magic, which was his speciality. A smile crept onto his face, which he tried desperately to remove. It is not the place to be smiling. Think sad thoughts.
That was when he tripped on the gap between floor tiles and used his face to knock on the door.
“Oww!” Boren yelled. A loud boom sounded when his face hit the door, and then it slid open before he could regain his balance. He fell straight in and landed face-first on the throne room floor.
“What I mean to say is-“the King’s discussion point to the trade delegation cut off abruptly at the sound from the door. Looking up, his old advisor gasped. Borowyn was more controlled than that and looked on as the boy got up and gathered himself. Curious, Borowyn noted the slight improvement of the boy’s colour and posture. Despite his rather unceremonious entry, he was looking a lot more poised. A delighted smile crossed his face, and he descended the dais through the crowd of merchants. Once he got through the babbling group, he could resume his usual gait. He reached Boren's location in an instant.
“Well, well. Glad to have you join us, son!” Borowyn boomed, completely ignoring the method of Boren’s entry. “Boren, this is the leader of the Merchant delegation that wishes to set up new trading agreements in Darf. Merchant Doroga, please be welcome and meet my youngest son, Boren!” the man beamed the smile of a proud father. Boren knew his father could feel the physical changes in him when he received his side-hug.
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Of course, the Merchant hid his dissatisfaction at being side-stepped and extended his hand to Boren, who promptly took and shook it. “Merchant Doroga, it is very nice to meet you! And where do you come from, may I ask?”
“Of course, Sire! It is indeed very nice to meet you too! We are from Kashva, over the mountains. We have travelled very far to get here, you know? We have some interesting items to trade and to sweeten the deal, as I was telling your father!” The man was stout and dark of skin and eye. A long black moustache and beard combination was almost long enough to drag on the floor, which it did for some of his compatriots, and his beard had grey speckles.
“Ahh, Karuler. You are very welcome. You have travelled far to reach us then.” Boren bowed slightly to the man. His delegation also murmured greetings.
“We have just been discussing the merchant delegation’s role in the upcoming Pentanations Tournament. Very exciting! After twenty-five years, Darf is finally hosting it again. The other nations will be jealous of the fanfare we will have for this one!” The King gushed.
Boren turned to his father, still keeping the merchants in the corner of his eye. “What? But isn’t it still eighteen or nineteen months until the tournament?”
Boren recalled the only other tournament he had ever experienced a little under four years ago. It was an incredible celebration of cultures. The excitement for the five-year-old going as one of the children of a monarch was even better… front row seats to all the events. For the first time in his young life, he had been able to forget the defect of his birth. It held a lot of good memories, and being able to spend more time with his family away from royal duties had been the icing on the cake. He was looking forward to the next tournament. I will enjoy it even if my father does not let me participate!
“Indeed, son! You saw the last one. The Yesri truly pull out all the stops! We will do no less, we might be a small nation, but we have our own cultures to uphold!”
That’s right; it slipped my mind. The last host had been the nation of Yesril to the North, and they had made it something special. Just the fact that it had happened half a lifetime ago, and he still remembered it was enough.
“I can see that you are remembering the last one, son.” His father said, looking down at Boren from a great height.
Boren nodded, flushed with excitement. The preparation for the tournament would be as much fun as the event itself. And if the merchants were planning over a year in advance, that could only mean good things. They expected to make tidy profits during the month-long event, and Boren couldn’t wait to see what it would mean for the kingdom.
“Your Majesty, perhaps we would return to our discussion? I do not mean to keep you and the preparations that we have to get underway...well, they are quite extensive. I am sure that you understand!” Doroga could not usher a King in his kingdom and throne room no less! But it was the closest thing. Even Boren could see that the man was excited for the prospects the tournament would bring. If for different reasons that the King and his son were.
“Boren, come.” The King said and led his son and the trailing delegates back to the throne end of the room. “Gentlemen, let us discuss what the trade delegation from Karuler requires to make this the greatest tournament Fryst has ever seen!”
Deep in the back of Boren’s mind, the reason he had come to see the King faded away in light of the new and wondrous topics that they discussed. He sat quietly and wondered at the incredible things that the merchants planned to bring. The stalls and businesses that planned to set up for only a month. Providing services to both the people coming to compete and the people who would watch.
It would be an epic one to remember from what he could tell.
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Garva stepped out of the bar, her generous hips swaying as she pondered her next move. She would need to find out more about this prophecy as the Terratrite had directed, but after the last few weeks, she had stalled out. Her voluptuous new curves were received very differently than the old body she had been subjected to before, but at least before they had left her alone. She rubbed at a particularly stubborn stain on her form-fitting red dress. Urgh…annoying, and they dirtied my dress. Oh well, they would not do that again to anyone else, would they? And she had fun.
Far in the distance, a man stumbled out of the bar she had just left. He turned; half his face was crumbling to dust as he spoke, “D-de-demon! DEMON!” he screamed before his remaining eye rolled back. He collapsed to the floor, shattering to dust.
And as he collapsed, the door of the bar swung open, and an Earth Golem stepped out of the carnage left inside. Bodies strewn about, some whole and some ripped to piece, but all had one thing in common, where there should have been flesh, there was only dust and stone.