The town of Krol was a prosperous and fairly peaceful town. With its geographical position at one of the borders of the Kingdom, it relied on the traffic that passed through to flourish. And because of that, it gradually developed into a trading hub that saw countless convoys of wares and merchandise –both local and exotic—pass through its wide gates.
Within its stone walls, which were built to deter unruly beasts and men alike, was a cacophony of sounds. While ungraceful and grating to the ears, it was considered the norm for the people of Krol; after all, it was the sound of trade. The people here almost lived their entire lives in a sea of noise.
But when the sun was at its peak, the people at the main gate immediately went silent and stood to the side, with expressions of respect and awe on their faces as they saw a convoy passing through.
It was a convoy comprising a single empty carriage, large enough to be able to seat ten. And accompanying it were four figures in full-armor riding war horses of the finest breed. Each was equipped with a myriad of things, such as swords and shields, or a gigantic bow with arrows the thickness of a steel pole, or a staff that gleamed with a metallic sheen and glowed through the cracked patterns underneath. It was an awe-inspiring sight for the people at the main gate and some who were not native to the town were surprised at the sudden arrival of this group. Other than the small size, and clearly better equipment, the convoy was not unlike the usual mercenaries resting in town.
But the town was not estranged to men like these –men who were meant for battle, after all, the town was a hub of trade; the town even had its own Adventurer’s Guild. All sorts had passed through its gates, and some who did looked even more powerful and menacing than the convoy at hand. Then, what made the people of Krol acted in this manner towards the figures in full-armor? It was because of a certain crest on their breastplates. It was a crest of an artistic eagle plastered across the plate, with three seals positioned at the cardinal directions excluding north, invoking an image that the eagle was held up by the three seals.
After awhile, the convoy went beyond the area of the main gate with ease. But the solemn silence was still retained by the people at the gate until a minute had clearly passed. By then, the hubbub peculiar to a trading center returned tinged by a hint of excitement and awe. The sound of trade that day was more ungraceful and grating than before.
At the convoy, not soon after passing through the crowd at the gate, a man with the peculiar staff hastened the speed of his horse forward. And immediately slowed down to a similar pace of the carriage as soon as he neared it. Glancing at the figure who seemed more remarkable and well-equipped than the others --with a playful grin, “Justicar. How many do you think would pass in this town?” he mused.
“It should be sufficient enough for the Order,” the man referred to as Justicar, replied. “But the chances of this town filling the yearly quota should be slim. After all, the area around here –even though, it’s not that far from the border— is surprisingly peaceful,” he spoke as he looked at a group of children playing in a corner of the street. “There’s not enough reason for the people of this town to be inclined for battles.” With a wry smile, he turned to the man who asked him, “I’d be more surprised if any of the kids here actually possess even one of the qualities of
the Creed,” and tapped one of the seals on his breastplate as emphasis.
“I agree.” A woman with hair akin to fire, whom had her helmet in her hands, chimed in as a response as she approached the two. On her back was a greatbow and a quiver of thick arrows. “While I don’t doubt that there are kids who’ve been trained in some of the schools here just to join the Order... I’m certain on how peaceful it is, that not one of them would possess a semblance to our Creed,” she spoke indifferently as she glanced around curiously.
“Then we shall train them, Astra,” another man whom was missing his left arm, sharply responded. It was a man with an oddly shaped sword on his side that shimmered in an ominous light from the runes etched on its sheath. “Not all in the Order were raised like you, Astra –raised in the Outlands of the Nether, you were. There’s nothing wrong with living a peaceful life,” he said in a melancholic voice. “It’s best we all remember that the Order fights for the Kingdom’s peace. And what we have here now is the fruits of our Order’s labor.”
The woman’s indifference quickly turned to regret as she realized what could be inferred from what she said. “I’m sorry, Morr,” she hastily replied. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she continued as she gestured an apology per custom of the Outlands.
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Looking at Astra, Morr realized his own mistake. “Never mind. I was just a bit agitated that towns like these still exist in the Kingdom,” Morr replied, sounding apologetic for the outburst. After a pause and a cough, he said, “My emotions took hold of me for a moment there.” And with a stiff and embarrassed smile, “It seems I’m the one lacking in the Creed, and not the kids we speak of,” he spoke in derision.
The atmosphere soon stagnated and started to turn dreary. But it was immediately broken by a hearty laugh of the man with the peculiar staff. “Nonsense, Morr. You’re the most adherent to the Creed among all of us! Human emotions, by nature, are just hard to control. Even the First King had his own fair share of outbursts!” With another laugh, he patted Morr on the back which was followed by a muffled sound of gushing wind. But contrary to his slim build when compared to the others, his pat had such strength that it almost made Morr keel over from his horse. The horse, bearing the entire weight of a man in full-armor on a single side, immediately lost its footing and whined. But to its respect as a warhorse, it managed to stand its ground though barely.
After calming himself and the horse, Morr, as if by instinct, threw an annoyed glare to the man with the staff. “You Artificers really need to stop showing off your quasi-magics. Sooner or later, an accident will occur because of you eccentric lot.”
Throwing his free hand up while waving the staff, he responded with a grin, “Sorry!” Afterwards, the glow from his gauntlets dispersed and streaks of steam bellowed out from a cavity on the back of his hands. With a mechanical whine, the cavity closed and the gauntlet returned to its normal state.
Having expressed his somewhat halfhearted apology, he casually grabbed hold onto the reins of his horse and moved his gaze towards their destination. “But really, Morr. If a trainee needed to learn about the Creed, among us four, you would be the most suitable as a teacher,” he said solemnly and the others nodded at his words. Then, he took a deep breath. “Even now, I won’t pry on what made you adamantly live your life for the Order, but you have my respect as a fellow Knight for such a reason. After a year of fighting as fellow Knights, I have come to realize that regardless of what our past lives were... It won’t mean anything on the field. The ones we could rely on the other hand, are the actual brothers and sisters that we’ve fought with for a long time.
“And from you, I’ve understood that a Knight who is truly adamant in following the Creed to the very end are the ones who would gladly sacrificed themselves for the others –I’ve understood since then, that strength is not all that matters. Therefore, regardless of how you started off, be proud of who you are right now. It won’t do you no good, Morr, to be chained by your past.” He softly patted Morr once more. “You have done more than enough for the Order and our squad... But knowing you, it won’t just end there,” he ended with a wry smile.
“Like the Knights before us, it’s now our turn to scout for new ones we could call brothers and sisters. So, it’s better to use that stubborn nature for the new ones. Teacher Morr... I like the sound of that,” then he laughed as he paced his horse to a canter.
Morr didn’t know how to respond. It was all too sudden. But he could clearly feel and see on how trusted he was by the others --a far cry to how things were since they were a team.
A year had passed since they became a team, and at the time, he felt unease if he could function properly as a member. It wasn’t unnatural for him to think in that way –after all, he was considered one of the weakest in the Order at that time. He was essentially dead weight for any of the squads who took him. But he knew now, that all the things he did ever since, were not in vain. He was glad that they accepted him for who he was. And had the patience to bear with his weak self at the time. It was not a perfect start, but they survived as a squad for an entire year.
He tried to express his thanks, but before he could do so, they had unwittingly arrived at their destination. In view was an imposing arch gate, and beyond were buildings of assorted heights in prim states. With a helpless sigh but an expression of slight satisfaction, he remarked, “We’re finally here.”