The scent of late springtime honeysuckle filled the frontier home as their mother moved about on the floor below.
Mother’s voice reached the open loft above and into the two siblings' ears “My littles, do you have any hands free to help with morning chores? I have honeyed tea to quench your thirst and if you make haste I’ll reward you with sugared bread and peppered eggs to weigh your bellies down.”
Zeek watched his sister, Petra, as she rolled to her stomach and peered over the loft's edge. Zeek scooted next to her.
Below they watched as their mother moved from one side of the room to the other preparing for the day. Her hair was the color of honey and neatly wrapped in a flower bun as it gently bounced with each step “Come my littles or I’ll bother father with your tardy nature.”
Zeek pulled himself up and dressed while Petra did the same. As the kettle whistled they made their way down the ladder and to the dinner table. Zeek had a few patches of hair standing stray. Petra watched her brother with a smile as he repeatedly pressed licked palms against them. Their mother noticed her smile and then the boy's antics and swatted his hand.
“The kettle should have cooled, use the warm water and not your spit” their mother said.
“Yes mother” Zeek responded as he moved to do so.
When Zeek returned to the dinner table his expression had changed to excitement “Is today when Davy and mister Lantura arrive?” The arrival was one of the things he had been most excited about and it had occupied his thoughts for the past month. Father had kept a closed jaw on when they would arrive, so Zeek had taken to asking mother every morning.
“Oh, perhaps, perhaps. So shouldn’t you go help with the morning chores before they arrive?” Mother asked.
Petra smiled as she finished her cup “Thank you mother, I’ll have the eggs for you in just a moment” reaching the door she held it open as Zeek ducked under his older sister's arm and through the door.
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Zeek startled awake before the perfect morning memory played out the nightmare reality of that fateful day.
Sounds of swords clashing play in the background to the sing-song voice of Anders. “...Swish, his sword swung and off the goblin’s head fell. But not fully, it was still attached by bits of its neck. Then the goblins tried to see past my words so I spoke faster, filling every moment like music. The griffin was angry and it reached down with its beak to gobble the top half of a goblin.”
Anders began to giggle “gobbling goblins” she laughed out “Mistress Hues would make such a joke with the ways of wanting men.”
Anders was interrupted by Dale “Eh, boy’s comin round.”
Anders turned to see Zeek rubbing away at his eyes as the midday sunlight shone bright.
“Not much to eat but have the rest of my hard loaf. It should be softer now, after I’ve had it soaking in Dale’s salted pork soup” Anders said and added with a smile “Don’t try to smile, the First Blade didn’t go easy on you. You look like a spoiled plum.”
Zeek didn’t need to hear it, he felt it. The feeling was worse than the first harvest when he and his father would stack the heads of cabbage, later hauling them from one end of the field to the other. Only to have the following few days filled with the planting of yet another crop, usually red corn or potatoes. Looking down at his hands, he could not recall if they ever had been soft. He thought perhaps his face would one day harden like his hands.
Zeek got to his feet and looked around, wondering where they sounds of swords clashing was coming from.
Anders stepped beside him informing him of the most recent news of note “The Sons of Loylel are teaching those that want to learn for the next hour how best to fight goblins. They will break camp very soon. The Governess of Arzick sent a rider this morning informing all the refugee camps that we must make our way West towards the desert expanse or North into the goblin infested forest. If not, then the Blue Cavalry would receive orders to unsheathe their wands and release their destructive magic until the last man crumbled to ash. We have until the last rays of evening light to begin our march off these lands.”
Zeek nodded his thanks to Anders and sought out the First Blade before they had to leave. As he walked he noted many tents and campfires were gone, with less than half those of the previous night remaining.
The First Blade saw the man-boy limping his way. As the boy neared he called out “Did you pass the test?”
Zeek slowed with a look of confusion. Zeek thought to himself “How in the ever wilting wollows wouldn’t the First Blade know if I passed, he was the one testing me.”
A smile began to form on the First Blade “I see that look boy. My blade was the test, and when you flung my blade away I improvised as any swordsman should and bloodied my fists. Ay, the test was against my blade but your inner voice was judge. So did you pass or did I beat a young boy for naught?” the First Blade asked as he lifted a leather pack to his shoulder.
Zeek smiled, even though it hurt he smiled wide and felt a few cuts begin to bleed and still he smiled. He nodded while stepping in front of the First Blade and closing his fist to his chest and lowering his brow. Something he had seen his father do when showing respect to traveling scouts and veterans.
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Following in Zeek's example the First Blade pressed his closed fist to his chest and tilting his head down. Moments later lifting his head “I see you salute in the ways of the Quartz Giants. I can see it in you now. A people so solid their heads could crush stone. Very rare and now I can fathom the source of your strength.”
Neither Zeek's mother nor father had ever mentioned Quartz Giants but this was something he would find a way to ask of his sister. Zeek simply nodded towards the man.
Standing beside Zeek the First Blade grunted “Good. Now I’m to follow and beat you each week the same as last night or more if you can handle it.”
Zeek looked on in surprise as the First Blade was suggesting he would be mentor and sparring partner. Having seen the faces of the Sons of Loylel and the reverence they had with the man it reminded him of his own feelings for his father.
The First Blade continued on “... for near twenty years and not till now have I had the goddess whisper in my ear. To think you carry such a weight as to mend what may never come to pass and that my beatings will show you and yours where the goddess stands on these events. Yet the riddles of gods and their quests are not mine to question. I do not fail and so boy we must be off, so tell me where to?”
Zeek pointed slightly North towards the highest of the forest covered hills.
“Ah, it’s true then. You and the girl were said to have approached the camp from the direction of Arzick's Crown. And you said goblins had chased you from that direction?” the First Blade asked.
Zeek nodded and noted that others were joining.
The First Blade stood beside Zeek as he watched many of the young folk within the camp gather around them “Many seek refuge. Safety by my blade while we travel and hope that where I go mercy's hospitality can be found. The older will travel with the Sons of Loylel to our Western sanctuaries. The Goddess tests you and yours by placing this burden upon you. Will you lead me, those that follow, and provide refuge?”
Zeek looked over the sixty or so youths and young adults that had gathered.
Anders and Dale were moving towards them.
Reaching the group just in time to hear the First Blade begin to speak.
“We follow the boy into the forest. I gave him a beating this past night for making too much noise, so best keep quiet or you shall be the next example. Know his pace will be brisk but not near his fastest thanks to the very same beating.”
A few chuckled as the First Blade spoke louder “Goblins in the handful have been prowling the forest. We seek refuge towards Arzicks Crown. Should be one night's brisk travel. If we encounter any trouble, be it goblins or shadows, do not call out. Tap the one ahead and behind you and whisper a warning. Pass the warning till it reaches me and I shall set out to silence the threat."
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Petra was sitting in what they were calling the common room of the dormitory. As she took another spoonful of rabbit stew she felt the mark upon her brother fade, her heart began to beat fast in a panic “Thane, it's gone. My mark is gone! I should never have let him go. I’ve made a mistake. What fools are we to think we could be like the legends of old.”
Petra was sitting stiff. Her left arm frantically sweeping a few strands of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were distant as the gravity of the situation was sinking in.
Old Man Thane looked over with cautious concern, commenting “Oh dear, we must set out to find your brother then. Hurry, gather your supplies.”
Petra jolted upward “My mother will haunt me to the end of time itself if I let anything happen to him.”
She ran with a limp out the dormitory and towards the refectory as she gathered supplies under the blue glow of the monastery's enchanted lanterns.
Not long after, Petra returned as Old Man Thane busied himself with his own packing. Looking out the window he considered the season and the shifting Northern winds soon to be upon them.
Thane offered a few suggestions as she checked over her supplies in a frenzy “Perhaps for a friend I would part ways with this leather coat, I had it enchanted to keep myself warm. It should help to keep you moving in the night should the weather suddenly turn cold. Ah, but I’ve had it for a century, it's worn, far past its prime. It would be more like a leather robe on you.”
“No. I can’t turn back just because it turns cold. I have little to barter with. I promise to return it, if I could borrow it until my brother is safe?” Petra asked as she limped over to Thane’s side.
“No no, Petra, I insist you keep it. A favor owed will be fine.”
“Yes, I’m so grateful!. A favor for you, I’ll honor it. You have been a blessing and a dear friend to my brother and I. I really” Petra stuttered as tears began to fall down her cheeks hitting the floor and quickly pooling in a puddle of sorts.
Thane handed the coat over and pulled her tight as he looked down into her puffy eyes “Do not worry dear, I’m sure your brother is fine. I will promise to be by your side when you find him.”
Petra took the coat. It was dark brown with a large collar. As she put it on she found that it fit her well enough, running long past her waist down to her knees. Her upper lip was covered by the tip of the collar.
Petra began to fill the four visible pockets on the front and secure the three belt-buckles that ran across the midsection. She tied her smaller bag to one of the many leather loops below the arms.
Thane looked over Petra as she finished the last buckle.
"My dear Petra, what weapons do you have? Should the shadows give chase you could not possibly run them to death. What of protection? You have nothing to protect your head” Thane said as he too now moved in a rush going through his many satchels and bags.
“Nothing” Petra said in hysterics now that she had only spent the past few months reading away while her brother gained vital fighting experience.
“Calm down, dear. You are in a rush so let us simply say two more favors and you may have my old staff and a helmet I happened upon.”
Thane opened one of his satchels revealing a leather helmet with bright red plume on its crown and a strange bronze face-guard in the shape of a skull.
As Petra marveled at the helmet Thane handed her a quarter staff that fit her near perfectly. It was made of dark wood that twisted along its length. The handle was wrapped in red leather. The red leather matching that of the plume of her new helmet.
Petra fit the helmet to her head and was surprised at how snugly it sat. Even more surprising was that her visibility was not blocked by the bronze coated skull face-guard. Her small nose twitched as it protruded slightly past the skull's nose cavity.
With helmet and coat on she held the staff and positioned her leather satchel to her back.
Thane always considered himself a genius but never did he think he would get such an opportunity to build a potential hero's image and get favors for it at that.
At some point Thane knew Petra would look out the dormitory room window and see the gates were open and dozens of people were walking into the monastery. All led by three individuals, one in the middle being a proudly smiling, yet bruised Zeek.