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They got along quite well at first, but when they reached the middle of the river the swift current swept the raft downstream, farther and farther away from the road of yellow brick. And the water grew so deep that the long poles would not touch the bottom.
“This is bad,” said the Tin Woodman, “for if we cannot get to the land we shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of the West, and she will enchant us and make us her slaves.”
“And then I should get no brains,” said the Scarecrow.
“And I should get no courage,” said the Cowardly Lion.
“And I should get no heart,” said the Tin Woodman.
“And I should never get back to Kansas,” said Dorothy.
- L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, (1900, 2nd Era)
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The air was chill, despite waking up to a sun burning up his skin. Erec’s nose was numb and dry as the cool of the morning took its throne with the season. Winter was coming in full now, and by the time the tournament reigned, this crisp air would be king. The changing temperature was unfamiliar; given his life below, he did not have to worry about the cold. However, he’d heard stories and knew this was coming.
Erec groggily raised his head to look at their campfire. It was long burned out, and now, it is nothing but a pile of ash. The mugs made of clay Dame Morgana manifested last night no longer existed—the bits of rock near his hand, though, made him suspect they’d simply returned to the earth after fulfilling their purpose.
Dame Morgana was gone too, replaced by a rather surly-looking Boldwick staring at him.
Erec immediately climbed to his feet, hand pounding his chest in a balled fist of salute.
His two friends, however… Were not as quick on the uptake. Colin no longer convulsed and instead now snored softly to his right; Garin, though, was waking, his eyes fluttering as Munchy desperately pawed at his face… Almost as if the squirrel were trying to help him get up.
“Well, I can’t say I’m all that pleased to find the three of you so soundly asleep in the open.” Boldwick began shaking his head, “Can’t say I’m all that surprised either, for her to leave you in such a state.”
“Apologies, sir,” Erec answered, raising his voice more than strictly necessary in order to wake his friend.
Colin snorted, and his eyes opened as Erec’s plan worked
“Who dares disturb my rest?” Colin muttered.
Boldwick gave him a dark glare.
Colin’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, then stumbled to his feet—beating Garin by a handful of seconds as his other friend fought off a chubby squirrel to navigate his way to an upright position. It was only when all three of them were lined up and giving a proper solute that Boldwick finally cleared his throat to speak again—during which Erec noted a blinking dot in the corner of the vision.
After. Whatever the ritual was, it had led to a Virtue increase, which, if Erec had to guess as he glanced at Garin’s skin flaking, the others had some gains as well.
Images of him of the other Erec still circled in his head, but he pushed them away. Right now, he had to pay full attention to Boldwick.
“Today, I have a special lesson in mind; I reached out to some friends willing to spare their valuable efforts to pass on some much-needed training to the new generation. All of these Knights, you will not find within the confines of our Academy, as they do not teach. No, with their skill sets, they are often in the field, running missions for the Kingdom and for their orders. You’ll find them highly skilled, each formidable in their own right.”
He let that hang in the air.
“See, the thing is, while I do consider myself an apt teacher… I, like every other person, am limited by my own abilities. Often, it is a benefit for perspective Knights to see examples of the type of archetype their Strengths lend them towards, people who operate off the same type of Strengths and with similar talents. They have perspectives to provide, which may be a key to fueling your growth,” Boldwick continued, pacing in front of them as the teacher picked up a certain levity and steam with each word, “So, today is a rare and excellent opportunity, not often afforded to initiates. A personalized day of one-on-one training with established Knights, who I hand-picked. I expect each of you to provide them with nothing but the utmost respect and courtesy.”
Boldwick paused with that statement, then loomed over Colin. He leaned in, dark eyes glaring; Colin retreated and gulped at the unspoken threat.
“…Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.” All of them said, though it took Colin two tries to get the words out.
“Now then, after me. We have some time before we shall meet them—and I think a good ten-mile run is what this morning calls for. I don’t know what they will show you, but I promised a trying week to develop you. What better to shape metal than to heat it before giving it to the smith? The last one to keep up will face another ten miles tomorrow,” Boldwick smiled a deep, wicked grin before taking off from their hap-hazard campfire.
The Master Knight kicked up a pile of dust, forcing the three of them to burst into sprints to follow. It seemed that this run would not be easy, and it was not if they wished to keep pace with a Master Knight.
No way will I be last. Erec promised himself.
— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —
Less than an hour later, they ran back towards the Kingdom. It was an invigorating run from their campsite to the edge of the Kingdom—along the steel curtain for most of the trip. Seeing that steel giant always gave Erec a welcome and protective feeling. There wasn’t quite anything like seeing the reflected glory and rivets dotting their shield from the outside world. At the end of the run, Boldwick led them back towards the city proper and took instead a curious route, dragging them by the new construction near the outskirts.
The three of them piled on after the Master Knight, sweat pouring from them in buckets; the whole of Erec’s back was slick, and every couple of steps, he saw a drop fling off his elbow and into the sand below.
The wind and the cold air of the morning had faded away to the heat of the midday sun; though it would be winter soon, it wasn’t yet.
Boldwick ran them through the site of grand construction, where the tournament arena was being built—they jogged past piles of lumber, ran near canvas with all colors of the rainbow and so much metal bracing that Erec lost count. Only when in the center of it all, surrounded by the vast working crew of people putting together the behemoth of an arena, did Boldwick pull them to a stop.
“Good forms, all,” Boldwick said with a laugh. He noticeably had breathed easy the whole time despite their struggle. “You may have grown fast, but it will take quite a bit to have the Vigor to keep up with me. Still, one day, I expect you all to give me a run for my money.”
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Colin collapsed on the ground, caught between trying to breathe and consequently almost dying from laughter over a bad joke; for his part, Erec just focused on trying to get air.
He’d had an easier time keeping pace, but this marathon was not easy despite how far Fury had stretched his Vigor; it made sense. His eyes slid to Garin. His friend was glossy-eyed and looked near dead, but he kept standing. Munchy, on the other hand, was fast asleep on his shoulder, not having lifted a paw the entire run.
Boldwick seemed content to give them a minute to recover. Given the reprieve, Erec finally addressed the flashing signal in the corner of his vision, willing the notification to appear.
Soul (Aspect: Fire): Rank C - Tier 1 → Rank C - Tier 3
That’s a lot. Erec almost joined Colin on the ground as his breath caught at a time when he needed to keep breathing to keep himself upright. Dame Morgana really is an expert in the Soul... If I only understood what that vision meant. Might makes right? King Arthur? The memories of that tea-filled vision seared into his memory.
Not for the first time that day did he wonder what Garin and Colin saw—both seemed unusually stoic. Did they, too, gain more Tiers in that Virtue? Did they finally break through the threshold where it no longer brought them backlashes when using it?
Later. He promised himself he would ask them later. When his attention finally returned to what was in front of his eyes, it was because Boldwick clapped his hands.
“Right then, onto further training—Sirs and Dame’s, if you would!” Boldwick called loudly, his voice echoing over the construction site, and paused more than a few civilians hard at work. Those not already staring at the four Knights who jogged onto the work site.
The bystanders were only given more to stare at as three Knights seemed to slide out of thin air; if Erec hadn’t seen odder in his time on the expeditions or gotten used to Enide, he would have sworn that they appeared from nothing. But no. His eyes were quick enough… They simply dropped from the sky; unlike he might expect from three people dropping down from above, there was no plume of sand nor broken ankles, and it happened instantly.
The old man in their midst wore a wicked grin, dipping his head and stroking his beard, a gleam in his eye. “You called, Sir Boldwick?” Ancient laugh lines were etched on his features, and on top of his head was a hat with the crest of the red lotus on an orange lake. The Order Of the Crimson Lotus. “Which one of these is mine? The one with muscles, right? I have a lot of stuff to move today, so a strong set of arms is much needed, what with my weak and brittle bones,” he raised a shaking finger toward Erec, that smile of his never leaving his face.
“Sir Adam,” Boldwick greeted and then shook his head. “No, that one is not who you will be training today.”
“Ah, so who’s the brat?”
Boldwick didn’t voice an answer, but once again cleared his throat, looking toward the other two Knights who the old man arrived with.
In Erec’s opinion, they couldn’t have looked any more different. Naturally, his eyes were drawn towards the largest, a man who might as well be two men, given his size. He damn near towered over them all—at least clearing eight feet if Erec had to guess. Which, in no way, could be a natural build. His talent must have had some kind of physical manifestation—while rare, it wasn’t unheard of for a Talent to physically alter the body and have a permanent effect. Not only was the man tall, but he was nothing but pure muscle; on his arm was a tattoo of an Azure Tower, yet he did not wear any proper Knight attire. Instead, opting for a gray tank top, which only showed off more muscle. His beady eyes took them all in with a glower, and as the old man turned to look at him, his face darkened further.
“We are not here to play, Able.” He said his voice like gravel.
“Mhmm, besides, Boldwick said that your charge has been on the mend, and a bit of tact would go a long way for you if you actually wanted to teach,” said a soft voice; there was a small woman next to the behemoth of a man. She wore the green cloak of the Verdant Oak; her hair was a deep brown, and her eyes were constantly scanning around them as if she took in every single worker about and marked them; upon her back was a bow—rare to see a weapon like that wielded in the Kingdom.
Usually, one only saw bows in the niche noble sport of hunting in the upper caverns. When they booked a biocavern to take down game for sport. Otherwise, the weapon was unheard of. Especially for a Knight.
“Though, from the way that one glanced when you said, ‘brat,’ I think your charge is the one on the right,” she pointed a finger correctly at Colin.
Erec had given Colin a brief look—the barest of a thing, really—it couldn’t have been less than a split second. She has good eyes.
“That is correct. Thank you, Dame Elke—Able, she is right, that one is yours. “ Boldwick walked over to Garin, putting a hand on his left shoulder since Munchy was on the other one. “And this one is yours.”
With a nod, Dame Elke, the only one from their Order, strode towards Garin, reaching out to shake his hand while also reaching in to give Munchy a quick pat on the head… As for the big behemoth, who Erec could only conjecture was his Knight for the day… Didn’t move at all. Instead, his beady eyes stared at Erec, not offering any introduction or compromising in the least.
It was as if Erec stared at the personification of Strength; raw brutality was etched in every muscle of this Knight, but why, then, did Erec wonder, was he in the Order of the Azure Tower, the order primarily focused on defense?
Boldwick looked between all of them, chewed his lip, then spoke. “I’ll leave you to introduce yourselves and to take charge of your Initiates. Best of luck; I hope you all have long-lasting insights from today. One of my greatest pleasures in teaching new Knights is just how much I learn from them,” Boldwick said, giving an odd look to the other three established Knights before leaving.
Quick on the uptake, the Dame in charge of Garin led him away from the group, intent not to waste a single second. Erec could only guess what her specialty was or what sort of training she intended to put his friend through. He only hoped for the best…
As for the other two...
“Alright then, I wasn’t kidding. Come on, Brat? Colin? That’s your name, right?” the old man snapped his fingers, “Get a move on. I have a lot of stuff to move out of my house, and your young manual labor is going to do just the trick.”
“I require training. I am not hauling your junk. Do I look like a peasant to put to task on your useless manual labor,” Colin glowered at the old man.
Instead of returning a frown, the smile on the old man deepened. “Oooooh? Is it only peasants who should be doing useless manual labor?”
“That is their station. While I am meant to defeat the deadly threats outside of this wall.”
“Is that so?”
“That is so,” Colin confirmed, crossing his arms.
“Raise your hand if you defeated a monster known as the White Stag?” The old man called.
Not wanting to trivialize his friend or get involved… Erec decided to keep his hand down. As much as that achievement was his, he didn’t see a reason to flaunt it. Only, his hand didn’t stay down—ten small odd-looking glyphs appeared on each of the old guy’s fingertips—and Erec’s hand shot into the sky.
“Oooof.” The old man shook his head. “So that’s to say that a great and lordly Duke’s brat—sorry, the Unbroken General’s brat, couldn’t manage to slay a mangy mutant deer? Doesn’t sound like your job is to defeat deadly threats outside of the wall, after all. That job already got taken.” The old man snickered, and Colin’s scowl grew deeper.
“Are you trying to goad me?”
“Here’s some advice, kid, it isn’t trying if you succeed.” The old man now laughed right in Colin’s face.
“I would not have found the stag if not for Colin,” Erec cut in, not appreciating where this was going. Normally, he was fine with Colin being taken down a few pegs, but this seemed excessive. Especially for a man they just met. With how this was going, Erec was absolutely sure his friend wouldn’t get anything out of working with this old coot.
“Oh yes, oh yes, I’ve heard. Still, I think this noble-spawn might need to find out, just what a peasant is capable of. Given I came from such lowly stock, you’ll begrudge this old man the simple pleasure in life of poking an entitled youth who doesn’t know the struggle of low birthright in the craw.”
“Stay away from my craw,” Colin threatened.
“Enough.” The large man rumbled, finally stepping forward. Each step he took shook to the ground, “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. It’s time to begin. Your test begins now.”
Erec’s attention snapped to the man—only to see that large lumbering mass of flesh run right at him; then, only then, did he realize that one of those massive curled fists the size of a sledgehammer was flying through the air, right at his midsection; having crossed the distance between them in a blink.
Without any time to react, the blow caught Erec and launched him into the sky, knocking all the air out of his lungs.