Three days later
Darian bolted upright in bed, a scream lodged in his throat. His heart raced and his skin was slick with cold sweat. The images were still vivid in his mind - the bandits' snarling faces, the flash of steel, hot blood spurting over his hands. He could almost smell it, coppery and thick.
Shaking, he drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying to slow his breathing. It was just a dream. The same dream he'd had every night since the attack. But it felt so real, like he was back there in those woods, fighting for his life.
Tears stung his eyes and he blinked them away furiously. He was too old to cry, wasn't he? He was twelve now, practically a man. But he couldn't stop the sobs that welled up in his chest, the way his whole body trembled.
A soft knock sounded at the door. "Darian? You alright, lad?"
Breck's gruff voice was heavy with concern. He'd been there for Darian every night, woken by his cries.
Darian swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. "I'm fine," he called, wincing at the wobble in the words. "Just a bad dream."
The door creaked open and Breck's bulk filled the frame, his face was lined with worry. "Another one, eh?"
Darian nodded miserably. "I can't make them stop, Breck. I keep seeing their faces, feeling the blood..." A shudder rippled through him.
Breck crossed the room in two strides and sat on the edge of the bed. He laid his hand on Darian's shoulder, "I know, lad. I know. It's hard, what you did. Damn hard. But you remember what I told you?"
"That I did what I had to," Darian recited dully. "That it was them or us."
"Aye, and I'll keep telling you 'til it sinks in. You've got a gentle heart, Darian. 'Tis what makes you special. But this world... sometimes it doesn't leave room for gentle. Those bastards would have killed us both if you hadn't acted."
Darian knew Breck was right, but it didn't stop the sick swoop of his stomach, the prickle of guilt on the back of his neck. "Do you think the dreams will ever go away?"
"I reckon so. Takes time, is all. Time and distance." Breck patted his shoulder. "You just focus on the here and now, lad. The test, remember? 'Tis your future waiting."
The test. In the chaos of his roiling thoughts, Darian had almost forgotten. He straightened, swiping at his damp cheeks. "Right. The test. It's today, isn't it?"
"Aye. And you'll want to be sharp for it. So let's get you washed up and fed, and we'll put all this behind us for now. One step at a time, lad. You can do this."
One step at a time. Darian clung to the words like a lifeline. He could do this. He had to. For Ma, for Talia. For the future he wanted so badly he could taste it.
He let Breck pull him to his feet and guide him to the washbasin. The cool water on his face helped to chase away the last wisps of the nightmare, the smell of salt and blood fading beneath the crisp scent of soap.
By the time he made his way downstairs, dressed in his carefully pressed good shirt, he almost felt human again. The bustling common room of the inn helped to ground him further, the clatter of plates and murmur of conversation a reminder that life went on, even after horror.
He slid into his seat across from Breck, the smell of fried eggs and toasted bread making his stomach rumble. Maybe things would look brighter after some food in his belly. And if his hands shook a little as he picked up his fork, well, he could blame that on nerves about the exam. He just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep moving forward.
"Eat up, lad. Can't take the test on an empty belly," Breck said, eyeing Darian with concern.
Darian took a bite of egg, chewing slowly. "What if I'm not ready, Breck?" he asked, voicing the fear that had been on his mind for days. "What if I can't compete with the city kids and their fancy tutors?"
Breck snorted. "Listen to me, boy. You've got a quick mind and kind heart. That's more than most. You think those soft little lordlings have ever had to work for anything? Ever had to hunt their own dinner, or figure their way out of a tight spot? No, they've had everything handed to 'em on a silver platter. But you, Darian - you know what it is to struggle, to strive. And that'll make all the difference. Just do your best, and let the chips fall where they may."
"You really think so?"
"I know so," Breck said, sitting back. "Now eat your eggs before they get cold."
Darian obediently shovelled a forkful into his mouth as he mulled over Breck's words. The blacksmith had a point. He might not have had the same advantages as the city kids, but that didn't mean he was stupid. He'd worked hard to learn everything he could, stealing time to read and study whenever he could spare a moment from his chores. And he had Mara and Breck to help him, quizzing him on history and arithmetic late into the night.
As if reading his mind, Breck pulled a stack of dog-eared flashcards from his pocket. "Right then. Let's see how much of last night's lesson stuck in that head of yours. Tell me, who was the first king of Aeria?"
"Lord Aeria, the conqueror," Darian answered promptly. "He united the warring clans and established the kingdom three hundred years ago."
"And what's the primary export of Arbrook?"
"Textiles," Darian said. "The city is known for its fine wool and linen, thanks to the sheep farms and flax fields in the countryside."
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Breck nodded approvingly. "Good. And the three branches of the city government?"
"Legislative, judicial, and executive," Darian recited. "The Council of Guilds makes the laws, the High Court interprets them, and the Lord Governor enforces them."
They went back and forth like that for a while, Breck firing off questions and Darian answering as best he could. To his surprise, he knew more than he'd thought, the information coming easily to his tongue. Maybe I can do this after all.
Just as Breck was launching into a particularly tricky question about crop rotation, the inn door banged open, and a familiar figure bounded inside.
"There you are!" Lila exclaimed, hurrying over to their table. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling. "I've been up for hours, I was so eager to get started. Are you ready? Have you eaten? Do you have your papers?"
Darian couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Good morning to you too, Lila. Yes, I'm ready. I think."
She plopped down beside him, stealing a piece of toast off his plate. "You better be. We've got a long day ahead of us."
"Oy now, mind your manners, missy," Breck chided, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "Weren't you taught not to snatch food off other folk's plates?"
"My ma always said if you snooze, you lose,” Lila grinned. “And Darian was snoozing."
"I was not!" Darian protested. "I was just... gathering my strength."
"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" Lila teased. "Well, you better have gathered plenty, because you're going to need it. I hear the exam is a beast."
Darian's stomach lurched again. "Have you heard anything else? About what kind of questions they ask, or how hard it is?"
Lila shook her head. "Not really. The proctors keep a pretty tight lid on things. But I did hear a rumour that last year, one poor kid fainted dead away in the middle of the test. Nerves, I guess."
"Not helping, Lila," Darian muttered.
She bumped his shoulder with her own. "Oh, relax. I'm sure it's not that bad. And anyway, you've got me to keep you steady. We'll ace this thing together, just you watch."
Her confidence was infectious, and Darian felt his own spirits lifting. "Together," he agreed.
They finished their breakfast, chatting and laughing, trying to keep the looming spectre of the exam at bay. But all too soon, Breck was pushing back his chair and standing up. "Right then. We best be off if you two want to get there early."
Darian's mouth went dry. This was it. The moment of truth. He rose on shaky legs, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
They followed Breck out of the inn and into the city streets, the noise and bustle of Arbrook washing over them. Darian had thought he'd gotten used to the crowds over the past few days, but now they seemed more overwhelming than ever, pressing in on him from all sides. He kept his eyes fixed on Breck's broad back, trying not to get lost in the chaos.
After a few twists and turns, they arrived at a large stone building set a little apart from the rest. It was nowhere near as grand as the Academy, but to Darian's village-bred eyes, it was still impressive.
Lila let out a low whistle beside him. "Wow. I guess this is it, huh?"
Darian could only nod, his throat too tight for words. A steady stream of people were making their way up the steps and through the large doors - children his own age, most accompanied by a parent or servant. And just as he'd feared, they were a sea of silks and velvets, brocades and furs, the fabrics alone probably worth more than his entire village. He tugged self-consciously at his own homespun tunic.
As Darian waited in the queue, he thought about the great academies of Aeria. The Royal Academy was the best, of course. Everyone knew that. But there were other famous schools too, like the Arcanum, Silverhall, the Lyceum, and Oaksbridge.
Arbrook Academy wasn't as grand as those. It was only the tenth best in the whole kingdom. But to a village boy like Darian, even that was amazing. The idea that he might study there, meet kids from rich families, and learn from real scholars... it seemed like a dream.
His village didn't even have a proper school. Goodwife Anna tried her best to teach the children, but it wasn't the same as a real classroom. That's why Darian was the only one from his village taking the city exam. But had it not been for the king providing the books to villages for free, he would never have had that opportunity. So, he had spent countless hours studying, determined to learn as much as he could.
Now, here he was, ready to test himself against the smartest kids in the land. It was scary and exciting at the same tim—
“Next.”
The guard's sharp voice jolted Darian out of his thoughts. He looked up to see a man waiting impatiently, hands outstretched for his papers.
"Go on, lad," Breck said gently. "Give him your papers."
Darian fumbled in his pocket, his fingers clumsy with nerves. He pulled out the creased and smudged sheet that certified him as an applicant and handed it over. Beside him, Lila did the same.
The guard scrutinized the papers, his eyes flicking between them and their anxious faces. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he grunted and handed them back. "Go on, then. And good luck - you'll need it."
Darian wasn't sure if that was meant to be encouraging or ominous. He decided he didn't want to know. Clutching his papers, he slipped past the guards and into the hall.