Lestith had made it to the barracks where the Captain should have been, but was told by a few of the on duty Knights that he had retired early for the night and would be back tomorrow morning. He couldn’t help but think that it was still far too early to call it a night. Something that he would mention to this Captain when they speak in the morning.

On his way back, memories, thoughts, worries and what-if’s flooded Lestith’s mind. The events that have occurred since Amrin happened into his life was a constant and never ending wave of unanswered questions. He claimed not to be part of Edgewood Village, yet they had found him there. One of the only two survivors of what looked to be a massacre and was later found to be a failed ritual to summon some other worldly demon or some such nonsense. Elizabeth, her frail, broken and emotionally crippled body was wracked with the memory of what transpired.

According to her, Amrin had always been inside the cave…something about him and a shiny rock. But Amrin claimed to have just been passing by. Edgewood was at least two days hard ride from any major settlement, so a ragged, barely clothed old man wouldn’t even dare think of traveling that far out of the way from known civilization. It just didn’t make sense.

A few children ran passed him screaming and laughing, causing him to break his concentration and move to the side slightly to make way. He watched them as they ran by and smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to run and play like that. His childhood ended the day the Rain fell. His life was forever changed after travelling to Arestoth, his father using his connections to start a new life. A life without the most important figure in it…his mother.

Lestith squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath in, rubbing his forehead in exhaustion and frustration at everything that had transpired in just the last few days. Learning that Grandall had been present during the onslaught and fought to protect the citizens made him feel proud to have him as a subordinate. Learning that Kaia, the personal guard and Knight for Headmistress Elena Aqua, as well as being known as an impressive and imposing fighter known as the Shadow Princess made him feel slightly inferior to both in regards to accomplishments.

And then there was the utter mystery that is Amrin Endrane. Immortal. More capable than a Master Chanter. Able to utilize magic that the world had no knowledge of. Master of one of the most prominent figures in the kingdom of Arestoth, Elena Aqua. Capable of dispatching, albeit without witness, a beast the likes of which an army could not. And that was only scratching what Lestith could only imagine to be a very large surface.

He released the deep breath he took in and gazed at the setting sun casting a vibrant orange and red glow across the sky. He continued to walk down the street back towards the Inn. He was looking forward to being able to get a full night’s rest in a real bed. It’s been far too long on the road since he’s had the luxury. The nap he had taken earlier gave him high hopes for it.

As Lestith walked by an alleyway he heard a pair of voices, nothing they were saying sounded good.

                “Eh?! You little waste of space! Where’s the money, huh?!”

                “You were supposed be filching pockets and goods from the merchant stalls and here you are empty handed!? What good are ya? Should just kill you and be done with it!”

The two men were standing and blocking the view of the one they were berating. Lestith assumed it was just a group of thugs or petty thieves arguing amongst themselves. He shrugged it off and continued walking.

                “I-I sorry, sirs…I try…b-but…they…they watch me…”

The voice was not that of an adult, but a child. And a young one as well. Lestith thought for a moment about what to do. There were few options, and none of the outcomes were good for the child if he did manage to save him. One is to leave and ignore the situation as a whole, the child would most likely end up being killed for not performing the thefts the thugs wanted. But that also meant he failed as a Knight and to betray the reason he became one.

The second was to handle the thugs while the child ran away. But that would only end up with the thugs getting beaten, and only serve to delay the end the child was facing after Lestith had left Newrand. The third was to kill the criminals, they were petty thugs, and the chances that anyone would miss them was slim to none. But that would mean taking the lives of people he had not seen do anything against the law…even though it was obvious that they had done so in the past from how they were speaking to the child.

There was one other option. He didn’t like it, and certainly didn’t like that it wasn’t something he could act upon immediately due to the Captain of the Knights already retiring for the night. But it also meant inconveniencing the Knights in Newrand, when they no doubt had other issues, more pressing, than what he planned. Although…now that a huge threat from Infernus Pass was now confirmed to be eliminated it may alleviate some strain upon them?

                “I sorry! Please, sir! Please…” the child yelled.

The dull thumps of boots hitting the child’s body, the cries and the shuffling of dirt as the child huddled up on the ground to keep the kicks from hitting important areas echoed in Lestith’s ears. The pleas the from the small body on the ground ceased, whether it was because the child knew they were pointless, or it was no longer possible to plead for them to stop.

                “That’s enough!” Lestith shouted from the entrance of the alleyway.

The two thugs turned to see who would be stupid enough to pick a fight with them. When they noticed that it was some pretty boy upper class human they began to laugh. He was wearing the simple cotton clothing from the Inn, so the thugs had no idea he was a knight. Leaving the beaten, bloodied and crying child on the ground they began to walk towards Lestith with threatening glares, cracking their knuckles in an attempt to intimidate him. The closer they got the more obvious the look in Lestith’s eyes became.

Lifeless, empty, full of hate and anger.

The two swallowed hard but it was just one unarmed upper class citizen probably looking for a place to die. One of them, a larger bald one pulled out a small dagger from a sheath fastened at his lower back and began to wave it around. The other, smaller and scar faced one, put his fists into the air and looked as if he was going to throw a punch at any moment.

Lestith stayed perfectly still, without any indication of any emotion anywhere on his face. He just stared at the child on the ground, bloodied, bruised and motionless on the ground. The one with the scars threw a straight right at Lestith’s nose, expecting a solid connection and another potential source of income for them. Instead Lestith just tilted his head to the side, the thug’s fist just barely missing his cheek. Lestith’s eyes didn’t move from the child.

____________________

He didn’t know why but the child reminded him of himself when he was smaller. After he had moved with his father from Randess to Arestoth, the noble kids all treated him like dirt, calling him the son of a monster, beating him, torturing him mentally and physically as only children can. He never fought back, he always lied there and took the beatings. The other nobles knew of what had occurred in Randess and the events that took place that effected his household directly. His mother was turned by the Rain and was killed in self-defense.

No matter what Lestith tried, who he spoke with or how much he pleaded or tried to buy friends…they all treated him the same. They bullied him relentlessly. He had lost count of the days he had woken up late into the evening, covered in dirt, blood, bruises and a face filled with tears from when they had beaten him. They wanted nothing to do with one of his kind. He never understood what he had done to deserve this treatment. If anything they should be empathizing with him, showing him compassion and understanding that he had lost his mother.

They kept saying his kind, but Lestith had no idea what they were talking about. He was human just like them. He was no different than any of the other kids in any way. It frustrated him that he couldn’t make sense of the logic.

But they didn’t care. None of the noble children did. It got to a point that Lestith refused to go outside, regardless of how much his father protested to him shutting himself in his room. No matter who came to call for him to come and play. His father didn’t understand, he thought that Lestith was making it all up. What child would come home bruised, bloody, cuts and sores all over his body and say it was all made up? None. His father was in denial and refused to see the reality of how his house was viewed behind his back by the upper class and noble houses in Arestoth.

The only person that would listen to his complaints, empathize and attempt to calm him down as he was growing up was Eristole. Eristole was their family’s butler, his family had served the House of Lestith for many generations. Now an old man well into his sixtieth year, Eristole is the only one alive from his family. Eristole was more of a father than his own after he had lost his mother. It was also thanks to Eristole that Lestith was able to find an outlet for his sorrow, anger, frustration and hatred. Lestith had no idea how he did it, but he was able to provide one on one training with a Captain of the Knights stationed in Arestoth.

Captain Braddock was recently promoted so his services were not yet run thin by tasks and missions requested by the Noble houses. Lestith’s lessons were twice a week, for three hours a day, and Captain Braddock was not an easy man. He cared little for what your status, rank, wealth or gender was. If his services were requested he would follow them through one hundred percent and the results that would be yielded, would be proof of that dedication.

At first Lestith hated it with all of his being. Braddock was just another bully that beat on him, yelled at him and called him weak. He thought many times that Eristole had betrayed him finally, abandoned him and wanted nothing more to do with him. And that this man, this Captain Braddock, was his way to teaching him a lesson for inconveniencing him all those times.

                “Get up!” Braddock shouted, for the hundredth time that day.

Lestith was exhausted, he couldn’t feel his arms anymore and the calluses on his hands had broken open and he was bleeding now. He wasn’t used to holding a sword at all, let alone multiple hours a day. Braddock’s training regimen consisted of two hours of sword skills and one hour of hand to hand techniques. After the first hour of sword training, Lestith’s body screamed in pain and refused to listen to him. This caused his movements to become sluggish and awkward, which angered Braddock.

                “You upper class and noble houses are all the same! Weak! Complacent! Expecting everyone to do your bidding! Be at your beck and call! Everything handed to you on a silver platter or silk pillow!”

The shouts echoed through the garden of the estate. Lestith’s breathing was hard and occasionally made him cough, the pain coursing through his body. He had lost count of the times he had been in this situation, not just with Braddock but with those that pretended to be his friends. On the verge of passing out, beaten and body screaming in pain.

He thought it would have gotten easier with time. He had been training with Braddock for months now, but nothing he tried, nothing he did would make it easier on him. The sword was a simple wooden practice sword, what you would see any child playing with on the streets with their friends. But the way Braddock wielded it made it no less effective than a real one. The pain it inflicted caused Lestith to cry out, collapse and bruised many places on his body. He was only thankful that no matter how hard or where Braddock had hit him, he never broke the skin or any bones.

                “This is only the start! You still have hand to hand training to go after this!”

Lestith shot him a glare with as much hatred as he could muster. Braddock did nothing but raise an eyebrow and scoff.

                “What? Do you hate me? Do you want me to die? Do you want me to stop and leave you alone?”

                “…yes…” Lestith said under his breath.

                “What?! I can’t hear you!”

                “Yes!!” he shouted. “I wish you would die! Just like everyone else that hurts me! Everyone that calls my mother a monster! Everyone that makes fun of my father behind his back! Everyone that doesn’t know a damn thing about me and my family!”

Braddock fell silent and stared at the young man in front of him. His eyes were no longer filled with hatred, but determination and resolve. Even if the words that rang out from him were filled with threats and wishes of harm to other, he didn’t mean them. He was hurt, anyone could see that. Not physically, but emotionally. Braddock stared back at the eyes that did not yield, they were good eyes.

                “Then get stronger.” Braddock said simply. “Get stronger so that they can no longer cause you harm. Get stronger to protect the name of House Lestith. Get stronger to prove that your family is not to be taken lightly!”

Lestith swallowed hard at the words. And quickly stared at the ground in front of him. It was so easy for him to say, he was already strong…he had heard of the deeds that Braddock had performed. He was a one man army. A mid-chanter with the martial prowess rivaling at least a dozen men. What did he know!

                “I know how you feel.” Braddock said, instantly causing Lestith’s eyes to go wide.

He quickly looked up at Braddock, whose features had lost their edge and intensity and were filled with compassion. It caused Lestith to wonder just who this person was. He looked and sounded the same, but he didn’t have the same air about him as the relentless and unforgiving tutor he was just speaking to.

                “To be weak. To have to put up with the nonsense that people who believe are above others. To watch as the ones that cannot defend themselves as they are put through something that makes you scream at how unfair it all is.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

                “W-what did you do?” Lestith asked hesitantly as he sat up.

                “I trained. I got stronger. I vowed to devote myself to helping those that cannot help themselves. To stand up for what I believe is right, not what is considered normal or accepted. I scratched and clawed my way up from a poor, homeless and starving peasant to the position that I am in now.”

Lestith listened as Braddock spoke, hanging on every word and wondered if he could be that driven and determined as well. But what could he do? He was just a weak and pathetic boy that couldn’t even stand up for himself. How was he going to stand up for what is right and protect people so that they would never have to feel the way he did, he does, since that day?

                “W-why are you telling me this?” Lestith asked.

                “Because I believe you can do it.”

                “Do what?”

                “Become great.”

Lestith furrowed his brow in confusion and didn’t know whether to think that Braddock was making fun of him or just pandering him. No, after all these months of agonizing training, he was not that kind of person to do something so petty.

                “I...I don’t believe I can.”

                “Oh? And why do you say that?”

                “Because I can’t put my mind to anything that grand. I’m…weak.”

                “Weak? I beg to differ.”

                “Why?”

                “You have yet to give up. No matter how hard I push you. No matter what I put you through, you persevere and endure. You may not believe it, but you have become strong. More than you can imagine, Young Lestith.”

Braddock was right, he didn’t believe it…he couldn’t. In the months he's been training, he never once won a sparring match against Braddock, he was always sprawled on the ground and gasping for air. It was then he realized it – he felt fine. His body was sore and certain places stung with pain, but he wasn’t breathing so hard that it hurt his chest, he wasn’t so exhausted that closing his eyes threatened to take away consciousness. He felt alert and energetic.

                “The greatest foe in any situation…is yourself. Self-doubt, hesitation, uncertainty of one’s abilities. It can be the very thing that can brings you home safe…or land your body in a pool of your own blood. Rise above yourself, Young Lestith. Only then can you achieve what I see in you.”

It was after that day that Lestith never again doubted Braddock, and fully devoted himself to training. On the days that he didn’t have Braddock over to train, he would polish his skills in the garden on his own. He believed he needed more stamina so he would run laps around his estate until he could do so without breaking a sweat.

It was because of Braddock that Lestith decided to join the Capital Knights and follow in his mentor’s footsteps.

________________________

Once more the scarred thug attempted to punch Lestith in the face. But instead of dodging, Lestith caught the thug’s fist mid-air. And using all of the strength he could, began to crush it. The sound of popping and cracking filled the alley. The sobs and pathetic cries that came from his mouth made Lestith frown.

Watching his companion losing, the larger one thrust his dagger towards Lestith’s stomach. Quickly letting the smaller one’s fist go, Lestith used his knuckles to hit the back of the thug’s hands with enough force to cause the dagger to fly out of his hand and break a few bones in the large ones fists. The dagger twirled and came to a sudden stop as its blade imbedded itself into the wall of the nearby building. Without missing a beat, Lestith brought the same fist up to the thug’s neck and impacted directly into his throat.

There wasn’t a single instance that Lestith moved from his spot or use more than his right hand. The two were terrified. They realized too late that this pretty boy was not to be trifled with. His eyes left the body of the child and moved to the large bald one.

                “Leave. Now.” He said simply.

Without waiting a second longer, the two quickly ran passed Lestith, screaming in terror and pain, each holding their hands as they bolted out of the alleyway.

Lestith closed his eyes and released a deep breath. Upon opening them he looked back at the small figure on the ground. Moving close to make sure it was ok, he noticed that it was a demi-human. He wasn’t sure whether it was a boy or girl though, not that it mattered. He gently tapped on the child’s cheek and attempted to wake it up. No response.

Frowning at the situation, his initial plan wasn’t going to work. He had planned to take the child to the Barracks and have the guards on duty watch it until the Captain came in the following morning where he would then explain the situation. But now that the child was unconscious he needed to make sure that the damage was not life threatening. But as it was passed dinner, the sun was setting and there was no healer he knew of in this city…he was at a loss.

Scratching the back of his head in frustration he was left with the only option…he had to bring the child with him to the Inn and hope there was someone at the Inn that knew of a healer that could make a house call or there was someone at the Inn versed in healing magic. The chances anyone at the barracks capable of doing that were slim.

Carefully, he placed his arms under the body and lifted it up. Making sure not to move it around too much if there were any broken bones, Lestith brought it close to his chest and walked out of the alley. Beneath the tattered burlap cloth that was too worn and filthy to be called clothing, Lestith could feel just how small, light and frail the body of this child was. Looking at the gaunt cheeks, the bruises, cuts and picturing what hell this child has gone through up until this point caused his eyes to water.

He immediately pictured Elizabeth, still little more than skin and bones, when she first arrived at his estate she was merely a skeleton draped in cloth. She didn’t even have the strength to stand on her own, or walk. He was proud to see the times she could smile, the times he heard her laugh, and the times he saw her utter amazement at something he took for granted. The soft sheets of a bed, the smell of fresh blooming flowers, the warmth of a fireplace…food to eat.

A tear trickled down his cheek and landed on the face of the small child. Lestith didn’t notice as he was facing forward, walking towards the Inn in hopes that this small, abandoned and frail child could be healed.

                “T..nk….y..u….” the incomplete words struck his heart in a way he didn’t think possible.

He didn’t look down, he didn’t ask the child to repeat it. He simply pursed his lips, tried to keep the tears at bay, and nodded in acknowledgement.

The sun had just dipped below the rooftops as Lestith made it to the Inn. Pushing the swinging doors with his back he walked towards the front counter where Miss Emily waited, watching him with the child in his arms. Without saying a word she nods, heads through the doorway behind her, with the beads draped in it and disappears.

The entire time that he was holding the child he could feel the rasping sound of its breathing. He wasn’t sure whether that was because the child was sick, had internal damage, fluid in the lungs or what, but there wasn’t much he could do at this point. A few moments later Miss Emily reappears through the doorway with a small bottle of clear liquid and places it gently on top of the counter.

                “See that the child drinks all of this. I shall summon for the local healer to come and check on him as well. But please keep in mind that it may not be until the morning.”

                “Him?” Lestith asked.

                “Yes. The shape of his ear are indicative that he is a male lupine demi-human. Female ears are more slender and have a sharper tip. This young boy’s is wider and rounded.”

Lestith looked down and noticed what she was talking about. He never would have guessed it, but I suppose for being in a city that Demi-humans are quite common, it made sense that there was a more than average knowledge of their species than Arestoth.

                “Thank you…again. I do not know what we would have done without your hospitality and graciousness this day Miss Emily.” Lestith says and bows his head in respect.

Miss Emily acknowledges him with a nod and gestures him towards the stairs, telling him that it is fine for him to head to his room with the child.

He carefully opened the door to his room, realizing that neither he nor Grandall had locked it before they left. But the chances of someone entering the room that wasn’t an employee was pretty small so he paid it no mind. Lestith carefully placed the body of the child onto the bed, resting his head against the pillow. He was tiny. Lestith wondered if demi-humans could have runts, just as animals did. Just looking at him in comparison to the size of the bed he couldn’t have been more than two and a half feet tall standing straight up.

Making sure the pillow propped his head up, Lestith took the stopper off of the bottle and eased it to the child’s mouth. Slowly pouring the contents, he made sure the child swallowed before pouring more. It took much longer than he thought, but the child had finally swallowed the entire contents of the bottle. Not quite sure what it was, he was hoping it was along the same quality and strength of the Healing Water that Amrin used on them at Infernus Pass, but something told him that was probably asking too much.

Now that the child lay flat on his back, Lestith took an account of the damage that the thugs did. Cuts, bruises, scars, dried blood and dirt covered his body. He also noticed that one of the child’s ears was torn or ripped, the mangled thin fur covered skin drooping to one side as he lay there. Lestith could do nothing but feel awful that such a small being, having done no wrong to anyone could be treated like this. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was a demi-human, human, dwarf, elf or other…he was but a mere child…deserving nothing but love, caring and a chance to make something of themselves. It angered him.

As Lestith stood by the bed and watch as the child slept, no doubt still in pain, he continued to think about the things that such a small child had to endure up until this point. Where were his parents? Where they still alive? Did they abandon him? Were they no better than the two scum that beat him into unconsciousness?

Suddenly the door opened behind him, causing him to whip his head around in surprise. Grandall walked in and looked at Lestith with wide eyes.

                “S-sir?” He said.

                “My apologies…Please, come in.”

Grandall closed the door behind him and came to a stop at the foot of the bed after noticing a tiny body lying on the bed that was Lestith’s. His eyes cringed at the state of it.

                “Is it ok?” Grandall asked cautiously.

                “He. And I don’t know. Miss Emily gave me something for him to drink and will summon a healer, who may or may not show up until tomorrow morning.”

                “I see…”

                “I’ll never understand it, Grandall…” Lestith said, not taking his eyes off of the sleeping child.

                “Understand what, sir?”

                “How someone could treat life with such…detachment.”

                “I wish I had an answer for you sir. But until I find one, the only thing I can conclude is that some people are just...less than people.”

                “Less than people huh? It’s funny, that.”

                “Sir?”

                “It seems that in all my time as a Knight, the ones that cause the most misfortune, damage, war and pain…are human. Yet they sit on their thrones inside their decadent mansions or castles and look down on the rest of the world as if they are so much better.”

                “…” Grandall had nothing to say. He wasn’t wrong.

Lestith took a deep breath in and exhaled quickly, then turned to look at Grandall.

                “Well, what were you able to find out about the refining?” his mood and tone of voice completely different than what it once was.

Grandall had seen that behavior and mood before, but as usual, it passed without incident. But he couldn’t help but wonder if that was how it would always be.

                “Ah, yes. Well assuming the weight we estimated for the ore is accurate, it seems the crotchety geezer will be charging us a premium. Fifty gold per refinement.”

                “Per refinement? Meaning he cannot process the entire node?”

                “Afraid not. The size of the refinery for Adamantine is quite small, most likely due to the fact that it’s not something people have the size of a human head of…”

                “I see. And the amount of refinement necessary to complete?”

                “Thirty two.”

                “…”

                “My thoughts exactly.” Grandall said at Lestith’s silence.

                “It seems we’ll have to discuss the finer details in person tomorrow. I shall be speaking with the captain in regards to the child as well. Perhaps we can make some sort of arrangement between Master Gilreth and the Capital Knights.”

                “Works for me sir.”

                “Well, I say we call it a night and get as much rest for the coming days as we can. I shall share the bed with the child as he is my responsibility for now.”

Grandall plopped down onto the bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow began to snore quite loudly. Lestith couldn’t help but narrow his eyes and sigh in exasperation. Tonight was going to be a long night.

Lestith was careful when lying next to the child. Resting his head on his arm as he lay on his side, he stare at the sleeping child with guilt and frustration in his heart, and hoped that he would be able to change this young boys life the same way Braddock did with his. Only time would tell though. Lestith closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.