Robin gazed up at the imposing stone gates, his father looming behind him, his weathered face etched with a stern expression. Before them stood a massive granite castle, adorned with three crimson-eyed motifs on its battlements. Veiled guards lined the castle walls, their attention seemingly directed away from the father and child at the entrance.
In the eerie silence, a towering figure cloaked in robes disrupted the stillness with its heavy footsteps, causing the boy's chest to tremble. As the figure approached, Robin's father grew increasingly anxious, his fists clenched tightly. Unable to wait any longer, he stepped forward abruptly.
"Great Purifier, I offer my firstborn to serve the Seventh House in purging heretics from our holy lands!" he declared with a stiff bow at a ninety-degree angle.
The figure, standing over two meters tall and shrouded in a heavy leather cloak, possessed seemingly inhuman proportions. It let out a rumbling, harsh whisper in response.
"The selection season is over, General," it said with a hint of amusement.
"That has never been an issue for your kin," the general retorted.
The creature chuckled, its laughter sounding grotesque, as if it were in agony. "That is true, General. And you seem to have brought us a most fine specimen. The House will surely appreciate such a gesture."
"As they should," the general said proudly, raising his head.
"Hmm, I can take your scion today, as the candidates must leave in the morning. Usually, you would have more time, but you have dallied too long, General."
"That is of no matter as long as he can go. Allow me to give him one gift for his journey on the path," Robin's father's gaze bore into the creature, conveying his determination.
"Very well," the creature acquiesced, though with annoyance. "But the boy must wait until he is of age to receive it."
"Understood," the general nodded, stepping forward to hand the creature a gold medallion adorned with a stylized bat on one side and a crimson blade on the other.
"You are foolish to think this will work," the creature snorted angrily, clearly incensed by the supposed gift prepared for the boy by his father.
"Whether I am foolish or not remains to be seen, but you will give the boy his birthright when he comes of age."
"Reckless. I will do this for you," the creature relented, though begrudgingly. "However, you will owe a blood debt to my House."
The general drew in a cold breath, prepared for this moment. A blood debt was a small matter now.
"I accept," he said, bowing once more to the monster, before turning and walking away, leaving his only child behind.
As the boy watched his father depart, he did not shed a tear. Perhaps he was too young to grasp the gravity of his situation, or perhaps he was too frightened of the menacing creature with whom he now stood alone.
The creature peered down at the boy. It was the child's seventh birthday, his raven-black hair and pale skin contrasting with his otherwise striking features. He seemed adequately fed and clothed but lacked the exuberance and energy typical of a child. Instead, he appeared apprehensive yet curious, perhaps under the impression that his father would soon return.
The creature turned and addressed the boy with a simple command: "Follow."
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Robin was led through the castle, his senses overwhelmed by the imposing structure. The castle resembled more of a fortress, with the guardhouse just beyond the entrance gates, where two veiled guards remained vigilant and visibly uneasy in the presence of the creature.
"I am the quartermaster," the creature spoke quietly. "The castle has everything an inquisitor candidate would need, but you are not training here. Instead, you leave tomorrow for the western regions, to Point Vaatu."
Robin listened attentively, understanding that this information was important, given the unease of the guards. He felt he had no choice but to follow, to make sense of events.
"I will take you to your cohort. They are already asleep. You must wake up early tomorrow to begin your journey. I suggest you rest."
With this final piece of advice, the creature led Robin to what appeared to be the dormitory, cloaked in darkness, save for the fading glow of the lamps.
"The first room on the right hallway should have space for you. Do not be late tomorrow."
With that, the creature departed, leaving Robin alone in the chilling silence. Terrified, he quickly made his way to the room, which he found unlocked. However, inside, he was met with the raucous snores of a sleeping roommate. In the darkness, he moved to the farthest corner of the room to avoid the noise.
As he lay on the unfamiliar bed, he couldn't help but contemplate the strangeness of his situation. Just yesterday, he had been in his father's manor, surrounded by familiar faces. Now, he was alone in a strange and eerie castle.
His thoughts tormented him for an unknown duration until exhaustion finally claimed him.
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The inquisitor candidate awoke to the melodious chirping of birds. Emerging from his tent, he gazed at the forest, where the sunrise painted twin orbs of flame on the horizon. He smiled briefly, an unusual occurrence, before attending to the morning's chores of clearing the campsite.
Today marked his ninth birthday, a fact he found oddly comforting, a tether to his true identity. He had yet to complete the first trial, which should happen in a year, and consequently, he had not earned a name beyond "Robin," the moniker only used by his fellow candidates, not the teachers. However, he knew he would soon outgrow that name.
After tidying up the campsite, he gathered his belongings: two long daggers, six throwing knives, a short bow, and a matching quiver. He hadn't set any traps, knowing he would return to the fortress today, which filled him with a strange excitement. The trial for his ninth year was said to be similar to what he would face the following year, this one involved surviving three days in the forest while hunting adversaries marked with golden bells.
Last night had marked the third night, and Robin now made his way back to the fortress. As he approached, the castle's spires loomed over the towering trees. The fortress stood as humanity's last bastion against the western front and its ceaseless horrors. Perched atop a deep valley, it stretched for kilometres, evoking a silhouette reminiscent of gothic architecture, riddled with secret passages like the one Robin was now taking.
Upon reaching the castle's entrance guarded by two older candidates, he was greeted with warm embraces from his friends—three other children of the same age. All four of them shared a certain resemblance: lean, athletic frames and shaved heads. Their attire consisted of simple leather armour and cloaks, but their weapons varied. The slender boy, Albert, carried a rapier and a bow, although his quiver was conspicuously absent. The stockier one, Marc, had two small axes at his belt, concealing a multitude of throwing knives. The largest among them, Krel, carried a massive broadsword on his back.
"How was the trial, brother?" Marc asked, already gearing up for a boastful tale.
"Other than a run-in with a small wolf pack that provided me with dinner, it was simple."
"Hah!" Marc laughed. "Albert fought a bear—a real bear!"
Robin looked at Albert in surprise, silently inquiring with his eyes.
Albert grinned before recounting his story. On his way back to Fort Cristofer, he had inadvertently disturbed a bear, leading to a fierce battle. In a daring move, he threw his quiver at the massive beast to distract it as he fled. The story prompted laughter and playful teasing from Robin's friends.
Shortly after an instructor strode over to them and bade Robin return to his dorm to rest for the day before results were released tomorrow.
As he made his way back to his dorm, Robin wondered how much of him remained. He had been in this hellish servitude for 2 years and he could not imagine spending eternity as a terrifying inquisitor. They were the bane of society, harbingers of doom and pain. However the ceremony to rebuild the successful candidates as inquisitors would occur on the cusp of turning 16, right before the coming of age after which he would be christened as a newborn inquisitor. This gave him time to make his peace with it.
He did not think of escaping the insidious fate. One did not run from the noble house of the godking.