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Chapter 3

  Aroma of lamp oil waned as the carriage hasted towards the city center, steady mage lights replacing flickering flames. Kain tapped his foot in frustration, the wooden floor groaning at the mistreatment. Sighing, the noble wrested her willpower ushering arcane that tinged the air. A distorted bubble surrounding and isolating the pair, veiling them from any a would be eavesdropper.

  “Sir Ka—”

  “I thought it was red one” the youth interrupted “You owe me an explanation” added the boy.

  With a deep inhale Lilsya said “Kain, there is a force that draws me to you. Unnatural and undeniable. I—”.

  “You tore me from my home! My friends! My family! Because something draws you to me?” the red hair interjected again “Demons or humans, you noble sons of bitches are all the same!” Kain dropped the crushed silver cup “I will not be your plaything!”

  With a swipe the carriage door buckled outwards “Fuck you, fuck the temple, fuck this city!”

  Horses neighed in complaint as the driver pulled to a halt. Without another word the crimson youth left Lilsya, never looking back as he meandered aimlessly.

  Final bells tolled, declaring the days end. Worst of his outburst cowed Kain paced the merchant districts. Smell of roasting beef tantalized the boy as he passed an inn. This no time to be a glutton the youth chastised himself. Out his periphery Kain caught his quarry. Approaching the animated group Kain gestured the well-dressed man whom turned away from his stocks. The merchant patted his comb over, appraising the red hair before him.

  “Good evening sir” Kain greeted “I wish to offer my services”.

  Pulling out a pipe from his coat the man responded “Return to your house, I don’t babysit runaway nobles” remarking the crimson youth’s finery.

  Anticipating the scenario Kain outstretched his arm, iron ball grasped. Almost got caught prying this off that weird gate, had better be worth it. With ease the boy crushed the solid metal ball, presenting the contorted sphere for examination “I am sure I can be of use Sir”.

  “Meals and a dry bed. You get payed per merit” the merchant threw the scrap iron back “Anyone comes looking for you, it’s the boot”.

  Waking atop the familiarity of a cot once more, Kain noticed a sack besides him. Sitting up within the dark room, the boy thought to his new state of being. The red hair willed his eyes pierce the umbral veil, gold slits glowing soon thereafter. Desensitized by his inhumanity Kain appreciated the room clear as day, muted as the colors were. A note upon the sac read;

  Sir Kain. Impossible as it may be to repair the damages done, it is with hope that the attached may ease the transition. Our paths shall not cross again if such is undesirous. Sincerely.

  Tempted as he was to throw away the parting gift, the youth reconsidered. Practicality winning over childish tantrums.

  Drawing the longsword strapped to the bag Kain tested the blade. Attempting a conservative bend the weapon remained unaffected, mocking him. Right hand careful of the sharp edges the crimson youth strained. For all his might the weapon bent but ever so slightly, bouncing back as the youth unhanded it. Is this made of adamantine? Thumbing through the large sack Kain found a multitude of clothes and an assortment of coin purses. Savior, tyrant and now benefactor the foreign noble an amalgam of contradictions. First bell rang, dawn breaking as the youth’s bunk mates stirred. Kain willed the draconic aspects away and changed into more appropriate travel wares.

  Breaking in the new boots, Kain dawdled behind the workers. This is for the better, nothing good will come of me staying the boy thought of his friends. Reminiscing, the youth almost lost his guides. The shear amount of foot traffic so early was bewildering. Thinking him a noble the employees had no inclination in making small talk with the red hair. Kain conceded to simply follow, the youth in no rush to clear the misunderstanding.

  Exiting the main gates the workers made for their colleagues, Kain opted to approach the caravan leader.

  “Good morning to you Sir Thomas” greeted the boy.

  Turning towards Kain the elder man wrinkled, “I’m no sir” Thomas beckoned for his guard captain. “Was hoping sleeping with the commoners would scare you off” the armored guard stopped several paces away, placing on his helmet. “But here you are, carrying a sword to boot.” The captain approached once again, “Listen now, I am no peasant to entertain a noble brat” the old man finished.

  Laying a hand atop Kain’s left shoulder the armored man eyed the younger boy menacingly through his raised visor. Grabbing the offending wrist Kain lifted the guard, casually tossing the captain over the shoulder. Stunning the man upon the packed ground. Kain’s right hand having never left the bag straps.

  All in sight stopped to gawk at the commotion. The crimson youth turned to the merchant “Last night was no trick”, Kain aided the armored man in standing “I believe renegotiations are in order”.

  Deducing no further violence was afoot the surroundings returned to their tasks, schedules needing to be met. Thomas passed by Kain “Follow me, Sir…” the merchant frowned at the oversight.

  Scratching the loose soil out his hair the youth offered “Kain, just Kain”.

  Raising a brow, the merchant drew his own conclusions. “Kain it is then” the two stopped before an extravagant wagon. Easily distinct from the near two dozen, each harnessed to four impressive draft horses. Disappearing within the canvas flaps muffled conversation could be heard beyond the threshold. Moments later the elder emerged, throwing a pouch towards the crimson youth. “Advance payment for three” uttered the merchant “Now, how old are you?”.

  “Fourteen Si…” “Fourteen years old, Thomas” Kain corrected after the merchant’s glare.

  Kain adjusted the stirrups for the tenth time, having ridden but a handful of occasions through the years to learn the art. Catching up to the five leading riders the boy eased his pace. Ignoring their new brother at arms the scouting party kept to themselves. Are they always so cold pondered the crimson boy. Putting away his book a robed man separated from the group, approaching Kain.

  “Hey there” the light fabrics revealing a life of comfort “Don’t mind them. Mercenaries are not very amiable to being payed less than another”.

  “Oi! Pyromancer! Tree in the road” pointed a rider in the lead, the fallen tree barely an impedance to travel.

  “And you boy, tag along” added another.

  Standing before the tree Kain regarded the pyromancer “I could just drag it out the way”.

  Astonished “So the rumors are true” the young adult replied, unfazed by the breeze “However, I should practice”. Spreading both arms the man fell into a trance. With a snap the tree burst alight, fire never spreading beyond bounds.

  Bored of watching the unmoving man Kain removed a glove. Rolling up a sleeve, the youth retrieved an apple.

  The pyromancer tracked Kain, his eyes aflame, black hair blowing wildly from tapping the arcane. Shocked by what transpired the fire hurler momentary lost control.

  Kain rotated the fruit, ensuring an even bake.

  Lump of wood reduced to ash the lean man dropped upon his haunches. Removing the sweat slicked hair from his brow the fatigued pyromancer addressed the youth. “So” the man panted “What school do you practice”.

  Handing the man a water skin Kain replied “School? Do you mean the arcane schools?”

  Pausing from quenching his thirst the robbed man nodded, too tired for words. “I get that a lot. But no, I bend no arcane powers” said Kain, helping his charge.

  “Oh. We should see Master Khaati then” replied the man, handing back the near empty water skin “Names Elwin”.

  Returning from the uneventful debriefing the crimson youth followed Elwin. Accompanying the pyromancer through the pitched tent, Kain steadied the overlong sword at his waist. Compelling the lazy man onwards, the duo arrived. Fae creatures danced within the campfire, making merry along a non-existing tune. Elwin approached the seated bronze woman, retelling Kain’s feats as she acknowledged them. The fire creatures faded as the auburn-haired woman addressed Kain.

  “So, my bumbling apprentice thinks he can identify or kin”. Elwin found an interesting pebble in need of intense scrutiny. “Come. Sit” the woman gestured besides her.

  The crimson youth sat upon the low stool, sweet smell of wood hanging to the woman. Is she from the Empire pondered the boy.

  Elwin’s master placed a hand atop Kain’s forearm “Now, concentrate. Clear your mind of all distraction” accent lacing every word but ever so slightly “Picture a tongue of fire. Now solidify the image and will it into being”.

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  Struggling harder than ever before, his distraught chase paling in comparison, the youth did as told. Seconds turned to minutes, alas, to no avail. The apprentice burst into laughter, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Bloody mundanes” mumbled the woman “You indeed have the talent. However it will take months, years if you’re incompetent” turning towards the still laughing Elwin “Of study before performing even the simplest of cantrips” she finished.

  A horn blew, alarming the hosts to danger. Urging her apprentice to start dinner preparation the master pyromancer turned to Kain “Go do your job, Elwin can share his novice scripts later”.

  Joining the arguing throng, the seventeen mercenaries hushed at the youth’s approach.

  “Wonder boy here can go” the only female warrior said, eliciting barely muffled chuckles.

  In no mood to entertain the farce, the red haired signed “What would you have me do”.

  Grinning “Griffin been spotted a mile off, Thomas wants it dead” the buff woman replied.

  Kain broke into a half sprint, eager to prove himself. Scant moonlight being of little consequence to draconic eyes.

  The creature picked at its mangled wing, fussing over the shredded feathers. Sensing the intruder the avian predator rose. Nine feet of muscle rippled before the five feet boy. Kain drew his sword, circling the atrocity slowly. Silver blade caught the moonlight as opposing sides tensed. The griffin pounced, Kain imitated a perceived stance, right foot forward with the sword pointing backwards below his waist. Ready to meet steel with claw. Beast landed upon the boy, claws outstretched. The crimson youth stepped to the right dodging a set of twisted blades, simultaneously slashing from lower left to his right in an upward arc. Clashing with the beast’s other talon the force knocked it aside in a cloud of severed digits. Whistling, the sword twirled into the night as Kain lost his grip swinging the weapon like a club. Dumbfounded by his idiocy the boy failed to notice the charging avian. Dirt flew about, monster and griffin wrestling under the stars. Sharp beaks dug into the youth’s palms, rune gloves preventing laceration. Kain’s fingers drilled into the skull, placing a foot upon the griffin’s sternum, Kain heaved. Much shrieking followed, popping of bones preluding a shower of blood.

  Kain dragged himself from beneath the headless half-breed, drenched in gore. Hearing footsteps into the distances, golden slit receded, world dimming in their absence. The very crimson youth found his sword after a short search, unblemished.

  “Fuck me sideways, little tyke actually did it” pocked a man unto the corpse, twisting the halberd quizzically.

  Approaching the red youth, the woman twirled her flowing braids “Uhm…I…uhm” refusing to meet eyes with boy “That wasn’t…” she paused. “I’m sorry” stammered the bear before storming off, magnificent rump pleasingly drawing Kain’s sight.

  “Aye, one hell of an ass. Right boy” another snickered, a thrown helmet cracking against the smug jester’s nose but an instance after. Blushing fiercely the tall woman recovered from the throw, stomping away even faster.     

  Snapping his broken nose back into place with a grunt the man picked up the makeshift projectile, cursing the fates to be wearing a cervelliere. With a rustle of mail the prankster waddled to Kain “Pretty sure you stink” wheezed the injured man “By the ten boy, you’re as hot headed as they come”. The man adjusted his oversized crossbow “Look here, Izzy went pale as a corpse walker after you ran off. Thought she sent you to an early grave”. Third moon graced the skies “Boy can you even hear me?” questioned the jester.

  Battle frenzy subsided, Kain reached for the burning sensation along his right cheek. What greeted the young mercenary was a bone deep gash, from a snip above the lip, to a missing ear.

  Cleaned up and wearing a new set of clothes, Kain sat at the campfire with nothing but a dry bandage covering his wounds. The train alchemist having left in an unbridled fury as all of his prized salves were violently rejected by the youth’s wounds. Finding Kain wandering camp the apprentice pyromancer invited the one eared youth to some leftovers.

  “Damn, the bird did a number on you” Elwin reheated the stew with arcane might “Looks like it’s going to leave a nasty scar”.

  Kain accepted the warm meal “Doubtful. Never had a wound I could not sleep off” the youth ate.

  “You expect the ear, to just regrow. Without a healer or alchemist” asked the apprentice, signing at Kain’s nod. “You my friend, are either thick or insane”.

  Morning rays found the caravan train ready to depart, Kain joining the scout party again “Do you always accompany the scouts?”.

  “Pretty much, Master Khaati insists that…” Elwin paused as he turned towards the youth “The hells”, drawing alarming close to the red hair “Am I still dreaming”.

  “Hope not” remarked the crimson youth. Ice broken, the five scouts and pyromancer eased into their task.

  Dusk rays preluded the train’s arrival, for ahead the twenty one wagons lay their first stop. Shifting in his saddle Kain admired the walled town of Adron, copper of surrounding distilleries distinct within the waning light. Trotting up to the disbanding party, the barrel chested jester hailed Kain.

  “Me boy, Izzy wants to pay for your stay tonight. Apology and all”. His stature rendered moot against the giantess skulking a few yards behind.

  “I do not hold her in contempt, but if it shall ease her mind it will be my pleasure” replied Kain.

  Jokester departing the apprentice remarked “In that getup and the way you talk, you’ll never pass as a commoner”, earning a shrug from the red hair. Patting his horse Elwin added “Its high time you start learning the arcane arts, being a novice sucks, trust me” the young man shook his head, trying to allay past memories “How are you with numbers?”.

  “I can manage” replied the crimson youth.

  Stroking his stubble in thought “We should start with calculus then” the pyromancer added.

  Begrudgingly leaving his sword with the town guards, the crimson youth stared accusingly upon his guide of a jester.

  “Hahaha. Don’t be looking at me like that” the large man mockingly stroked his equally large crossbow “Only an ass of a mercenary would fail to join a guild”.

  The pair entered a quaint inn, smell of liquor greeting them in full force. Snaking around the patrons the duo arrived to their table. A boulder within the stream, all about avoided the dreaded abode, for a giantess had claim of the domain and mortals knew to fear their betters. Forging for blighted lands the pair faced the fiend before them. Kain sat before the woman as the jester took a sit beside her. An awkward silence prevailed. With a sigh the jokester called for a passing serving woman.

  “What do you drink boy”.

  “I do not” replied the red hair.

  “I aren’t having that”.

  Many a round later the woman turned to Kain “What the hells were you thinking”, taking another swing “Who the fuck fights a griffin alone” she added.

  The crimson youth bade for a refill, call of liquor beckoning the boy “Was tired of being mocked”, another gulp soothed, releasing pent up stress.

  “Still can’t swing a sword for shit” slurred the woman, earning a deprecatory smirk from the youth. “I can help. I’m an accredited swords master” she added quickly.

  “Maybe you can help me with my sword” intruded the jester.

  The crack of knuckle on bone reverberated through the raucous room. “Rob!” the woman shouted.

  Spitting out blood “Aye, like my woman feisty” added the man. Moving smoothly for a drunk, Rob threw the taller woman over his shoulder bounding up the stairs within moments.

  Kain gazed absentmindedly at the deserted table, nursing his flask. Having nothing better to do the youth stacked a few silvers upon the table, determined to feed the new vice. Three more silvers hushed the serving girl, whom brought a bottle of their finest.

  The crimson youth awoke to a broom upside the head, knocking over half a dozen bottles as he come out the stupor. Mind hazed Kain turned to the inn keep.

  “Bar’s closed, go sleep upstairs”.

  Standing with much difficulty the red hair stepped over passed out patrons strewn around his table. Clearly due to violence and not inebriation. The fuck happen here thought Kain, tripping upon the stairs going to his room.

  Bony appendages wrapped around Kain, rotting entrails slithering upon the youth. The walking corpse shook the boy, pushing him within the quagmire of blood. With a start, Kain heaved against the fiend.

  A laughing giantess within the doorway caught Kain’s attention along a groaning man upon the floor shortly thereafter.

  “’Wake up the boy Rob dear’” favoring the re-fractured nose “’Hurry now dear’” Rob stood “Y.S.A.B.E.L” glaring at the woman.

  Retrieving his longsword the red hair joined along the departing caravan train. Forgoing the scouting party Kain made his way towards a personnel wagon. Sitting across the master pyromancer Kain studied Elwin’s notes, irritated by the confusing scribblings.

  Scrunching her nose “By the All Father, you smell to the high heavens”, the pyromancer moved besides the coach.

  As the caravan train pitched up for the night Kain stood before the giantess, training longswords in hand. The red haired youth inched towards Ysabel. Left foot landing, Kain entered the seven footer’s ridiculous range. Breaking into action Ysabel moved from the middle guard, aiming for a draw cut upon the left carotid artery. Battle frenzy descended upon the youth. Earth cracked beneath Kain’s feet as the youth dashed to his left, dodging the sluggish blade with room to spare. Quickly the boy arrested his forward momentum, left hand upon the ground Kain twisted and stabbed for Ysabel’s ribs. And before the giantess’s motion even ran its course the youth’s dull blade clinked gently against her breastplate.

  Observing the boy, Ysabel looked in disgust at the unsteady posture. Hammer grip lunge almost being too much to stomach.

  “Stand” commanded the woman, “Your reaction and speed are inhuman” she added. An indulgent smile threatened to overcome Kain, “But every single thing you do with the sword is wrong” the youth’s haughtiness deflated. Ysabel traced the multitude of scratches along her dull sword “I can guide you through the proper forms…”

  Following the boy’s distracted sight Ysabel caught the jester mid motion. Rob’s indecent thrusting gestures drawing laughter from the surrounding mercenaries.

  The prankster dived, longsword flying overhead as the man hit the ground. Turning back to Kain the woman started her lectures, a slight blush the only evidence of what transpired.

  Shouting brought a premature end to the tutelage, little over an hour of the planned two. Seeing the youth about to dash towards the disturbance, Ysabel stepped before Kain.

  “Easy now” the giantess twirled a blonde braid “Let the guards handle it. We swords for hire are only appreciated on the field”. Taking the crimson youth’s silence as acknowledgement, “Enough talking, let’s put that obscene stamina to good use” Ysabel shot Rob a glare before the jester could remark.

  A thin film of amber upon the horizon announced dawn, scarce rays nary breaking the dark. The crimson youth toweled off By the ten, I miss a warm bath, wearing nothing but a pair of velvet trousers, his bare torso refused a tan. Fair skin encasing a built form, lack of definition betraying the youth’s real age. Catching the master pyromancer topless silhouette at the corners of his eyes, Kain willed the draconic aspects. As his eyes transformed unto their golden eminence a warning tingle washed upon the youth. Feeling as an eternity, visibility gradually increased along with the subconscious alarm. Moments before the golden slits dispelled the shadows, claws constricted the boy, lacerating exposed flesh. Air rushed as the world turned upside down, and Kain saw the caravans with a newfound perspective.

  Acknowledging the griffin abductor exploding volleys assaulted the beast, little care for the precious cargo. The avian fiend bobbed and weaved, avoiding the fiery explosions. Finding his wits Kain gripped the claws about himself, crimson scales adorning his hands. Another tinge of danger drew the youth, responding Kain faced the source. Besides the largest tent blue energies swirled, heavy in arcane. With haste Kain tore off the restraints. Then it came, a geyser of blue, followed by the searing white of pure agony. Beast disintegrating before him the red hair battled to retain consciousness. A battle lost.