“Get him!”
“Ha! You’re dead now street rat!”
Arrin quickly dashed through the dirt streets of the beggars town. Daring a glance behind him, he saw that the three boys who had chased him this far were gaining on him. It was only logical after all, they were nobles, the highest rank a human could be and got to train and do more mundane things such as eat, daily. He on the other hand, was a scholar’s abandoned son. Not blessed with great strength or stamina, he’d almost starved when he was turned out into the streets. Fortunately, living thirteen years with his eccentric father had sharpened his mind and taught him many things. Offering his services to the various gangs that ruled the lower town, over the past three years he had made a living for himself as a consultant and bookkeeper for the less reputable citizens of Reft.
Of course none of this mattered when the mayor’s son and his two cronies came down into the beggar’s town to try out their brand new swords. With the guards firmly in their pocket and no gang member kind or daring enough to save him, he was on his own as they fabricated a slight and moved to cut him down. Fortunately, although his childhood had not prepared him for the deadly streets, three years on them had honed his reflexes enough to see what was going to happen. Taking off, he had been quickly followed by the murderous bullies.
Dashing in between pedestrians, he desperately tried to make it to the main gate. There was a battalion of Imperial guards, elite soldiers loyal only to the emperor, stationed there, and they were the only ones in this city who might shelter him. Turning a final corner and making it to the main street, he saw the gate and guards up ahead. Looking back over his shoulder once more, his eyes opened wide in surprise as he saw the nobles no more than an arm's length away. Leaping forward with the final remnants of his strength, he suddenly crashed into a heavily armored figure.
Dazed by the impact, he fell back and landed on the ground. Looking up, He stared straight into the eyes of a scarred Wolven. With short white hair and a snarling snout, he cut a terrifying figure as he reached for the wicked axe that hung at his side. Serrated and notched with over a hundred tallies, the weapon matched its grizzled wielder. Still dazed from his fall, Arrin could only stare helplessly as the axe fell downward. A single thought flashed across his mind.
After all that’s happened to me, this is how I die? Really?
“Stop!” a light, tinkling voice sounded through the air.
The axe halted its progress, mere inches away from Arrin’s head. The wolven turned back to look at figure behind him and answered in a rumbling yet surprisingly polite voice.
“Why, Lady Seeker? It is merely a human after all,” sniffing and curling up his lip, he continued,” an unwashed one too.”
“He has potential. All of us in the seeker’s guild have taken an oath to bring in all potential candidates or have you perhaps forgotten that Warren?” The voice responded, undaunted.
Sighing, Warren turned back to look at Arrin. Looking him over once more, he grumbled,” By the looks of him, I don’t think he’ll even survive the march.” Shaking his head slightly, he hung his axe back at his waist and practically snarled out,” Come on human, you’re coming with us.”
By now, Arrin had gathered his wits enough to realize what was happening. The seekers were an ancient order, founded to discover potential champions and bring them to the Rock of the One. If they were saying he had potential, he might as well go with them. If nothing else, it was a free ticket out of the slums and away from the nobles. Having no more than the money in his pouch, the clothes on his back, and a locket around his neck, he quickly nodded in acquiescence while standing up and dusting himself off.
“Are you alright young human?” unlike Warren, the voice held no contempt when it called him that. Merely stating facts instead of treating him like an animal. Quickly glancing over to the voice’s origin, Arrin found an elderly Kitsune looking at him with a faint expression of concern.
Her fur was matted blond, but had slight streaks of gray, showing her great age. Seeing that she was expecting an answer, he quickly spoke up.
“Yes I am quite well, Lady Seeker.” With a slight bow to her, he turned to Warren and kneeled down. “To you lord seeker, I offer my most sincere apologies. I was fleeing for my life and did not look forward to see who lay in my path. I would offer anything I have upon my person as way of apology, but unfortunately, since I currently have nothing that would please one as you, I will have to impose upon your honor to forgive me.”
Arrin had been educated with the impeccable manners of a scholar and new exactly how precarious his position was. As children of Ferick, Weres were often prickly, to say the least, about what they viewed as insults. Many a human had died to their powerful magic or ferocious fangs over an “insulting” greeting.
Blinking in surprise at the correct greeting and apology, Warren nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. Not full acceptance perhaps, but with that gesture Arrin knew that he would at least not die in the immediate future to Warren’s axe.
Smiling rather pleasantly, the elderly Kitsune asked,” Please, I am too old for such titles. Call me Mae. Now that I have introduced myself, may I have your name young human?”
“I am Arrin, Lady Mae.” Arrin responded neutrally. Keeping his face blank had been a key skill to develop when dealing with either his father or the gangmasters, and therefore he had quickly perfected it.
Chuckling softly, she replied,” I suppose I won’t be able to persuade you to drop the Lady eh? Very well Arrin,” extending her hand she gestured through the open gate towards the Plains of Twilight and continuing in a much more formal tone,” will you accompany us to our caravan and to the stone beyond?”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Simply nodding as an answer he followed behind them as they walked, unobstructed through the gates. A few steps out from the gates, he looked back at his hometown of Feran. It had not treated him well. He had been beaten, robbed, abandoned and used far more times than he could count yet, he still found himself feeling a small amount of nostalgia for the place. A very small amount. Quickly quashing it, he continued onward with a smile on his face glad to finally escape as he reached the caravan of the Seekers.
The caravan traveled through each kingdom yearly, collecting all of the young ones who were touched by the gods. Of the millions of beings in the world, only about a thousand made it this far. These thousand were all brought to stand upon the Rock of the One, the ancient testing ground set down by the one herself after the end of the second Great War. There the Novum would choose 12 beings to be endowed with their full powers for that year. The rest would receive minor blessings and abilities from a patron god. Each of the lesser blessed would enter one of the 12 academies while the 12 champions would train upon the Blessed mountain that rose behind the stone. In the legends and tales told to the children of all races, all of the young would dutifully march in quiet contemplation to the stone.
Reality, as Arrin found it, was far different. The camp was chaos as hundreds of beings from ages 10 to 20 crowded together. Arguments were frequently seen, with fights interspersed throughout as the ancient conflicts between the races manifested. Clear groups had formed as each race clumped up for safety in numbers. Naturally, however, there were no humans. After informing Arrin of his berth, giving him a badge to identify him as a candidate, and pointing out the general layout of the camp, Mae and Warren left him to his own devices ass they strode purposefully towards the grand pavilion that likely housed the Seeker’s quarters.
Hmmh, they just brought me here and I’m abandoned. I suppose the Seekers aren’t as kind as the stories make them seem to be, but then again, I suppose I can’t blame them. I am “just a human” to them after all.
Silently making his way around the empty outskirts of the camp, Arrin quickly reaches the wagon they had pointed out. Built as a small wooden cabin on wheels, it looked to be able to house about 8 beds comfortably. Knocking quietly on the door and then pushing it open, Arrin enters his new sleeping quarters.
The interior was sparsely appointed, but cozy and well made. A small living room took up half of the space as four doors, likely leading to bedrooms, split off to take up the rest of the space. Immediately his eyes fell upon his three cabin mates.
An angel, a dwarf, a halfling, and a human. Sounds like the start of a bad joke. Arrin thought to himself as he quickly looked over the three of them.
The angel was male and had two wings, signifying that he was of common blood. Wearing a light blue tunic, he had long blond hair tied back in a tail. Reading a book, he briefly glanced over the top of it, only to snort in contempt and return to the text.
Then there was the dwarf. Barely reaching up to Arrin’s chest, he was built as sturdy as a mountain and had a thick braided red beard. Currently biting into a massive roast, he didn’t even notice Arrin enter.
Finally, there was the halfling. With light brown hair and a height similar to that of the dwarf, his face was currently twisted into a mischievous grin as he played a copper coin across his fingers. Immediately sizing Arrin up as well, the pair shared an immediate moment of amusement as they realized exactly what the other was doing.
Standing up from the armchair he had been sitting in, the halfling loped over to Arrin and extended his hand with an easy-going grin.
“The name’s Ert. Ert Hightail if you wanna be formal.” pretending to lean in, he theatrically whispers loudly,” It’s good to see that there’s someone with brains in this cabin even if you are a human! I mean, between beefy over there and Mr. Holier-than-thou I had thought I’d be talking to myself the entire trip!”
Chuckling slightly as the indignant dwarf almost chokes on his roast, Arrin replies,” It’s a pleasure to meet you Ert. I was afraid that i’d immediately get that greeting from everybody,” tilting his head slightly towards the angel, who is still calculatingly ignoring them.
Laughing broadly, the halfling pats Arrin on the side seemingly as a gesture of friendship, but far more likely checking for hidden weapons.
“Don’t worry Beefy and I wouldn’t do that to you! Isn’t that right Beefy?” He asks openly looking to the dwarf for confirmation.
By now, Beefy as Arrin had come to know him, finally managed to swallow the chunk of meat he had been working on and stood up, wiping his greasy hand on the side of his tunic. Walking forward, Arrin could see that the dwarf was actually not obese. Instead he was completely covered by churning muscles that made him seem far larger than he actually was.
In a surprisingly elegant voice he introduces himself,” Greetings, my good human! I am Berthran Eligian Englebert Faron the third of house Yeren!”
Shaking the Dwarf’s hand, Arrin replies,” Ah it is a pleasure Yeren Berthran!”
Lighting up with pleasure, the dwarf continues,” Ahh you know how to speak names the proper way! I had thought I would never hear the end of the presumptuous speakers! Come, come! Sit down with us! We were just eating!”
Nodding gladly, Arrin sat down across Berthran and Ert making small talk as he ate. Of course under it all, he was already thinking deeply about the situation he was in.
With thirteen years spent living with his father, he had learned quite a few tidbits of information about the other races. Tidbits, that helped him realize he was placed in the cabin with the misfits. The angel was a commoner, the very lowest ranking of angel. Were he in his home realm, he would be working as the bottom of society, scooping manure and cleaning the streets as a daily task. The halfling? Clearly a street rat just like Arrin. He had immediately analyzed Arrin, and even though he had determined him not a threat, he had still checked him for a concealed weapon. Paranoid, sharp, and cunning: he had talent that would make him rise quickly amongst the gangs, until, that is, he stepped on one foot too many and got thrown to say, a seeker’s caravan. The dwarf was a simple matter of research and memorization. The dwarves lived together in clans, placing the well being of the clan far above that of themselves. Therefore, the position of the clan formed the position of the individual. And Yeren clan, while not technically the lowest, was also not very highly ranked. Not even miners, but instead simple diggers, they worked all day for their entire lives just to survive. That probably is what accounted for his muscles.
Unfortunately, I have no explanation for his well developed speech. I’ll have to find that out later. However, right now it is irrelevant. This is perhaps the perfect cabin to be placed in. Eventually, when the angel comes around to us, the four of us will be able to work together for the betterment of our people. With a common goal, We might even become friends and gain enough influence for me to survive the years ahead.
Concluding his thoughts, Arrin turns his full focus to the conversation as the three of them tell stories and build bonds throughout the night.
??????
Yes… unlike all of these other god-touched he watches. He thinks. His race only needs slight improvements as well to be my own. A win-win I suppose. That’s that then. He will be my hand...