7

Opportunity

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/856577034012721194/1124156086035951788/Ansel_Chapter_Header_v2.png?ex=654d8d70&is=653b1870&hm=b6257ac6dc438d9410335e752c491d58692b76316c8c9d89f5f868ebb65282c3& [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/856577034012721194/1124156086035951788/Ansel_Chapter_Header_v2.png?ex=654d8d70&is=653b1870&hm=b6257ac6dc438d9410335e752c491d58692b76316c8c9d89f5f868ebb65282c3&]

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About two weeks later, a messenger arrived looking for me.

I'd been sitting at the mess hall, eating luncheon along with the rest of the garrison. Including myself, there were roughly eighty soldiers or so, all seated at the large wooden tables. The rest were either out performing drills, on patrol around the fortress-city, or deployed to one of many nearby settlements. I recognized most of the faces here, but I didn't quite know all of them. Everyone was fairly relaxed, talking and laughing as they ate.

And yet, there was a hint of somberness to it all that even I could notice. Somehow, the cheerful ambience felt subdued. Forced. As if everyone here were holding themselves in check, waiting for something.

Some of the jokes told were a little off, as if the speakers were trying too hard to be funny. Sometimes a soldier would reach out for someone who wasn't there. A soft chuckle would escape their lips, but their eyes would remain downcast.

Still, no one spoke of fear, or sadness, or impending doom. That seemed to be the nature of military life. We were to wage war, but tried our best to maintain a sense of normalcy. Some days we succeeded. And other days not quite.

I finished my meal, chewing around the last bits of diced pork and swallowing it with the stew's broth.

Just as I began to stand up from my seat, the doors to the mess swung open, and a man in dark, formal attire stepped inside. His hair was slicked back, his beard and mustache carefully shaped and trimmed. He was of middling years, but his uniform made him appear much older.

"Pardon me," he spoke up over the noise. Even his voice had a firm, formal inflection to it. "I'm looking for footman Ansel Eschenwald! Is he present?"

I raised my hand slowly. "Here," I said, standing up. "That'll be me."

The man smiled faintly, in a 'stiff-upper-lip' sort of way that retained his professional expression. "Ah, excellent. I've a message for you, master Eschenwald," he said as he approached, pulling a sealed letter from his inner pocket. "If you please," he said, bowing his head. "I must return to my duties."

With that, he turned on his heel and left just as quickly as he'd appeared.

I opened the envelope. I flipped the letter upside-down and backwards, thoroughly inspecting every inch of it. I was sure I could recognize my own name on it, but… Well…

"Well? What's it say, Eschenwald?" a soldier sitting beside me asked curiously. "Good news? Bad news?"

I shrugged. "Sorry, but, uh, I'm not really sure what you want me to do with this," I admitted, feeling somewhat sheepish. "I don't know how to read."

There was a moment of pregnant silence, during which several people just paused and stared at me. I felt my cheeks heat up faintly.

"Well, um," I finally said, clearing my throat. "Anyone here know how to read?"

"No," came the immediate reply from the man and woman at either side of me.

"Me either," said a third.

"I'm far-sighted."

"Don't look at me, my folks were farmers!"

It went on like that for several minutes, until it seemed that literally not a single person in the garrison was literate.

"I can read!" Niels, a short, stocky man suddenly called out from across the mess hall.

I nodded, sighing with relief, and walked over to his table. But when I handed him the parchment, Niels only gave it a brief glance before exclaiming, "Oh, this is in common! My mistake; I only know how to read the halfling script."

"...What."

"Hey, man, my wife's a halfling," he shrugged with an embarrassed grin. "Besides, it's a lot simpler than the Elvish kind, since that's longer and harder to make out."

I sighed, palming my face.

"Oh, just give me that," Vera said, rolling her eyes as she snatched the letter from my hand. "Honestly, people, this is just sad! If it were up to me, I'd have all of you guys reading 'till your… ..." She trailed off, her voice becoming small as she continued reading.

When I turned to face her, I saw that her eyes had widened, and her mouth was agape.

"Vera? Are you okay?"

She raised her eyes, meeting my gaze. "Come with me," she said, as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind her. I was honestly surprised she didn't somehow dislocate my shoulder.

She dragged me all the way over to her office. In truth, it belonged to Lady Miriam, but after… after Halem, Vera was more or less in charge of our company. And thus, she was allowed to use the office.

She hadn't done much work to make it hers; in fact, the only thing she'd done was take a few personal belongings of Lady Miriam's and sent them to her next of kin. Beyond that, it's just been for storage, really.

"Do you have anything nice to wear?" she asked me.

"What?"

She groaned. "Clothes, Ansel. Do you have courtly clothing? A dress uniform? Anything?"

"Not really," I shook my head, wondering where this was going. Me and my family were commoners, so the clothes I owned were mostly simple shirts, tunics, and trousers. Aside from that, I had my soldier duds and armor, but those weren't exactly for everyday wear.

"Figures. Alright, I'll see if I can't scrounge up something for you. I'm sure some of the officers won't notice a missing jacket or two."

"Aren't you gonna get into trouble for that?" I asked.

Vera chuckled and shrugged. "Probably."

"What's it all for, anyway? I mean, what's wrong with what I normally wear?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? Don't take this the wrong way, Ansel, but there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you meet with the Knight-Commander dressed like a country bumpkin."

"Come on, it's not like I'm—" I stopped talking as her words registered in my head. "...Wait, the who?"

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The walk here was way too long, and also way too short.

I know that's a huge oxymoron, but it just felt that way somehow. I guess my nerves were getting the best of me.

I stood next to Vera in front of a large, castle-like structure. Ken's central keep was probably three or four times the size of any castle I'd ever seen. And honestly, it was sort of intimidating.

I swallowed a lump in my throat, and anxiously tugged at my collar. I'd traded in my relatively casual clothing for a uniform similar to Vera's; a white, buttoned shirt, tan trousers, tall black boots, and a dark blue greatcoat.

I'll admit, it was a good deal more formal than what I'd have gone with. I just hoped no one would think to ask why a footman was dressed all fancy-like, like an officer.

"Alright, let's do this," Vera said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You good to go? No nerves eating at ya?"

"Seriously?" I raised a hand, letting her see how badly it was shaking. "Of course I'm nervous."

She laughed and slapped at my back. "Oh, don't be like that. It's not like you're walking into a court martial, Ansel," she said. Though, with how tightly her fists were balled, I got the impression that maybe, just maybe, she was as nervous about this as I was. Perhaps even more.

Still, I resolved to follow her example and tried to clamp down that anxiety.

Move, I told myself.

I took a deep breath, and followed Vera inside the keep.

The interior was just as large as the exterior suggested; I'd guess that there were at least a hundred rooms inside the walls, not counting the numerous balconies, towers, and other assorted features it must have. And every single one of them was better decorated, better kept, and better—well, everything, really—than any place I'd ever been in before.

A woman—one of the Dawn Templars—approached us as we entered.

I handed her the letter.

The Templar silently skimmed through it, then returned it to me with a nod. "Well met. She's been expecting you. Right this way," she said, as she began leading us further into the keep.

We followed her through several hallways, and passed several guards and staff, all of whom gave us strange looks.

I couldn't read the letter myself, but Vera had explained the gist of it to me; apparently, word had spread about the whole business with the aberrants back in Halem, and how I'd managed to beat their warlord. One thing somehow led to another, and, well, now the Knight-Commander herself wanted to meet me.

I was surprised that the news had even made it back to the fortresses, and even more so that such a big deal was being made out of it.

Regardless, I wasn't dumb enough to even begin thinking that ignoring the summons would be a good idea.

Even still, as we continued walking through the long halls of the keep, my apprehension only increased. I was pretty sure that we'd passed every picture, every tapestry, and every single knightly display a few times over.

And then, finally, we reached our destination. A large pair of double doors opened into a drawing room.

The room was rectangular in shape, brightly lit by a window on one side, a stone fireplace in the other, and a large carpet running across it.

I'd never seen Knight-Commander Claudia Levantine before, but I could immediately identify her the moment I saw her. She was a tall, slender woman, with bright brown hair tied into a braided bun, and a firm physique.

She had on the gleaming silver armor of the Dawn Templars, which only seemed to highlight her regal stature. Any trace of her age was hard to pinpoint, I'd guess her to be in her thirties.

With a silent nod, the Templar motioned us inside.

Upon seeing us, she stood from her seat, and greeted us with a slight bow of her head. "Welcome, and thank you for coming," she said.

It wasn't until Vera jabbed her elbow into my side that I responded. "Thank you for having us," we answered together, snapping into a simultaneous salute.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

She saluted us back. "Sit, please," she said, gesturing to a couch across from her.

I introduced the two of us as we sat. "Your Excellency, I'm Ansel Eschenwald. This is my serjeant, Vera Strava."

"It's good to meet you both," she said with a nod. She then added, "I've heard a great deal about your deeds, master Eschenwald."

I barely refrained from wincing. There was the inevitable subject I was hoping to avoid as long as possible.

She seemed to regard me, as if trying to measure me up against past expectations, but her expression was unreadable. "From what I gather, the town of Halem owes you a great debt."

I shook my head. "I didn't do it alone, ma'am," I said, prompting a curious look from her. Beside me, Vera sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"No?" Lady Levantine asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, a friend of mine was right there with me the whole time. If it weren't for Edd, I never could have done it. And besides," I continued, "it's not like I was the only person fighting back then. The Alliance, the Hounds, even the people of Halem… They all had a part in it, too."

She paused and stared at me in silence, as if seeing me in a new light.

The silence that followed felt incredibly awkward, and it became clear none of us knew what to say next. I scratched at my chin, and quickly added, "So, uh, y'know… You could say that the victory belongs to everyone. Not just a person or two."

"I see," she nodded, the corners of her lips tugging upwards. "But sometimes, even a single person can make a difference, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose so, yeah," I said, shrugging.

She closed her eyes, as if in thought. Then, finally, she looked at me directly. "Your modesty is admirable. But I'd like to see your prowess with my own eyes."

My eyebrows shot up. "Ma'am?"

"From what I understand, your opponent was a rather skilled and infamous orc warlord. Even if you don't accept the credit, you have to admit that it takes more than luck to defeat an aberrant of that caliber." She stood, walking around the couch and towards the double doors. When she turned back, her eyes glinted with a strange intensity. "So please humor me, soldier."

I looked to Vera, who gave me a helpless shrug, looking every bit as bewildered as I felt.

Seeing no other recourse, I stood up as well, following our host to the training field outside.

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She was amazing.

I'd like to say that I got some good hits in, but the truth of it is that I never stood a chance.

She was fast as the wind.

Her reflexes were lightning.

Every swing of her sword hit me like a thunderclap. And her feet… Her feet were as light as a feather, and she moved with the grace of a dancer. My eyes struggled to even keep up with her movement.

It was like she was born to wield a sword, like it was an extension of her very soul.

The entire time, she easily avoided, deflected, and blocked every last one of my clumsy attacks.

It was all I could do to defend myself, trying to keep up with her physically. But even that was impossible. Whenever she started to tire, she'd deftly dodge my counterattack and hit me with a slash of her own. Whenever I tried to land a blow, she seemed to anticipate it and evade me.

I have no doubt that I would have died a million times over, if not for her absolute mastery, and the fact that we were using blunted tourney swords.

It was a testament to how outmatched I was. The skill gap between the two of us was just too immense to bridge.

The sun was starting to descend by the time we were done. I flopped down onto the ground, covered in sweat and bruises, my arms and legs aching. The sword I held in my hand had somehow snapped off at the hilt, at some point.

Knight-Commander Levantine stood over me, barely looking winded as she watched me.

"That was very impressive," she said, as if she hadn't just finished using my entire body as a practice dummy.

Still, I sat up and nodded, accepting my defeat with grace. If nothing else, I was genuinely grateful to see just how long of a road was ahead of me.

"However, I would have to say," she continued, "that you're still far from achieving perfection." She reached down, helping me to my feet.

Vera approached me, patting my shoulder in consolation. "It was a good effort, kid," she said.

I wiped some of the sweat from my forehead and nodded to her, then bowed to Lady Levantine. "Thank you, Your Excellency."

A thin smile graced her lips as she nodded back to me. "Of course, I must admit; I underestimated you as well."

I quirked an eyebrow, curious. "How so?"

Lady Levantine paused for a moment, pondering her words, before answering. "Your skill with the sword is solidly average, but your footwork is sloppy at best, and you are far too reckless when on the offensive. Further, your posture isn't quite correct, so it puts you at an awkward position for maneuvering," she quickly stated. I couldn't help but wince at her brutal honesty.

She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment. Then, she smiled. "That being said, however, your instincts are impeccable. Even if you lack finesse, it's clear you know what you're doing. And you made some good attempts at improvisation. You were hard to predict, even if you did somewhat step into the unorthodox."

I felt a couple slight aches on my forehead and shoulder as I recalled the "improvisation" I'd performed against the orc chieftain. 'Unorthodox.' Yeah, I guess that'd be the appropriate way of putting it.

"But," she continued, "instinct alone does not a warrior make. Which is why I believe you still have much potential for improvement."

"Yeah? I guess I might have found my new passion then," I said with a small laugh, feeling a small swell of pride at the praise.

Surprisingly, she chuckled along with my lame joke.

And then she paused, her expression abruptly turning serious. "You will one day make a fine swordsman under the right instructor, Ansel. I'm sure of it."

I frowned, not quite sure how to take that. And then my eyes widened, as it struck me. Beside me, I saw Vera's jaw hang agape as well. She wasn't implying…?

She nodded, confirming my unspoken question. "I've need of a squire," she simply said, meeting my eyes.

For a moment, I could do nothing but stare at her, as her words fully registered.

A squire… An apprentice to a knight. An aide in their tasks, duties, and battle.

For me to serve as her squire…

Goddess preserve me. This woman, this warrior, the Knight-Commander of the Seven Shields and the Dawn Templars, was offering me to be her apprentice? To learn from her, and follow in my dreams?

"I…"

I looked away, starting to shake my head. "I can't accept this, Your Exce—"

I was cut off mid sentence by a hard slap to the back of the head.

"Ow! What the—?!"

Vera clamped her hand over my mouth, speaking over me. "Begging your pardons, Your Excellency, but can I steal away dear Ansel for a moment? I need to talk to him alone real quick, 'kay? Kay! ~Thank you~!" And without even waiting for a response, she manhandled me away.

"What're you doing?" I asked her once she released me, out of anyone else's earshot.

"That's my line, idiot," Vera said. "What are you doing? Were you seriously about to say 'no' to Claudia Levantine? Are you simple?!"

"Well, I… I mean…" I sputtered. "I just can't accept it, Vera."

She sighed, exasperated. "No? Why in the hell not? This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! Gods, Ansel, do you know how many people would kill for an opportunity like this? How many people would jump off a bridge just for the tiniest chance of—"

"I know."

"Then why would you turn it down?"

I glanced away. "How can I accept it? There's so many others who'd fit the bill better than I would. All I did was be at the wrong place at the right time. Nothing else."

Vera stared at me, then palmed her face. Her shoulders began shaking. For a single, terrifying moment, I was afraid she might be crying, but then I heard the giggles she was holding back with her hand. "Snerk!"

"Wha…? What's so funny?"

"You! You are!" she exclaimed, not even hiding it anymore. She held her side and wiped away tears with hearty guffaws, drawing lots of curious glances our way. She settled down after a full minute, and placed a hand atop my head.

"Um…?"

"You're a good lad, Ansel," she said, her voice softening as she patted my head. "Dumb as a bag of rocks, but a good lad nonetheless."

I stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to take her statement. Before I could even begin formulating a response, she continued.

"Humility's a good quality to have, but there is such a thing as taking it too far," she said. "Listen—I'm not your mother. And more importantly, you're a grown-ass man. So the only one who gets to make the call here is you. But you gotta know your worth. They don't go handing out squireships to just any old bum on the street, ya know?"

"...Yeah," I nodded slowly.

Vera nodded back and removed her hand.

"Even if I don't…?"

"Idiot," she laughed again, shaking her head. "If the Knight-Commander herself's offering this to you, it's for a reason. She's not doing it out of pity, or 'cause of some stupid fluke. It's because she sees something in you. She believes in you, Ansel." She smiled. There was a warmth in her eyes I hadn't seen there before. "Won't you believe in her, too?"

After a moment of silence, I shakily nodded, feeling a strange thickness in my throat. I managed to smile back.

"Attaboy. Here," she said, pulling a small, worn cloth from her pocket, and handing it to me.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Cloth, duh. Wipe your eyes."

I paused, confused, before realizing what she meant. I gripped the material and scrubbed at my eyes, wiping away moisture I hadn't realized had gathered there. "Thank you, ma'am," I said.

"Yuck," she responded, rolling her eyes. "I told you not to call me that, didn't I?"

"Ah, yeah. My bad."

"Well, shouldn't you get going and let her know? It's really rude to keep a lady waiting, y'know. Especially when she's your superior officer," Vera grinned.

"Right."

She patted my back one last time, and sent me on my way.

I tried to keep my strides firm as I marched back across the field to Lady Levantine.

"You've come to a decision then?" she asked. Her firm gaze almost spooked me, but I somehow managed to find a balance between my anxiety and my determination.

"Yes, Excellency," I nodded, keeping my shoulders steady. I bowed deeply and scraped back a leg. "I'm honored by your offer, and I accept your tutelage."

She smiled fully, the corners of her eyes crinkling up. I was surprised when she extended a hand, and said, "Just call me Claudia. I believe we've shared enough formality for one day, Ansel."

I gripped her hand, shaking it, and smiled back. "Lady Claudia, then. Thank you for this opportunity."