In the months leading up to Arakh Gamman’s 16th birthday, the earth had begun to shake.

When the first earthquake struck, a tremendous panic rolled through the city around Gamman Keep. Nothing like it had happened in living memory, so for about 30 seconds, many thought it was the end of the world. But, as the rumbling subsided and life kept on living, it became clear that it was quite something else.

When the next struck a week later, ever so slightly stronger, a second surge of excitement came, but the knowledge that they had lived through the end of the world once gave people the confidence that they could do it again. By the third it had become tiresome and by the fourth, with some soothing words from the Keep, the common people had more or less accepted them as a normal part of life.

Now they were happening daily, but no great doom had come to pass. So, despite the universal understanding that something was wrong, nobody knew what exactly it was, so life continued as normal.

Although, for Arakh, “normal” was a relative term. He was the son of Jarl Utam Gamman, the chieftain of Gamman Keep and it’s surrounding lands, and with the approach of his 16th year he was busy preparing to take on the responsibilities expected of the future leader of his community.

He was too busy to bother with the quakes, despite the gnawing feeling in the back of his mind that he should investigate them himself. Early on he had quietly pondered that feeling and did what investigation he could, but he had been scolded each time he got caught for shirking his duties, so he had steadily decided to leave it be.

Until one day, when the situation changed.

Nobody realized it, but the quakes had been steadily getting stronger. Only in small increments, to the point where it was barely noticeable. Then suddenly, just a few days before his birthday, there was a sudden spike in intensity. Instead of a minor inconvenience that spilled items off of shelves and spooked livestock, the quake on that day actually did some damage.

Mostly cracked foundations.

A couple of houses outside the fort’s walls collapsed, although they were so old they were barely standing in the first place. Any building worth its salt was fine.

Still, the sudden change reignited Arakh’s concern. He initially wanted to press his father to search for answers, but when he brought his concern to his tutor during training, Nakata, his father’s personal Steward, dissuaded him.

“A crucial trait of a strong leader is the delegation of work. No one man can do everything, so you must learn to rely on others. Your father has seen to it that the matter is being investigated by our oracles and sages, but only time will provide answers. There are other matters that he must attend to do his part, just as there are other places where your attention is better spent,” Nakata said effortlessly between swings of his wooden sword.

“I know, it’s just- ow- I have this bad feeling about- urgh- like something bigger is going on- tss,“ Arakh tried to retort, but every time he opened his mouth, Nakata took the momentary hesitation as a chance to strike, leaving stinging welts all over his body.

“You can’t focus on this topic and fight. You won’t find any answers just by talking so focus on the task at hand and you might be able to actually land a hit,” he said with a little knowing smirk before a new voice cut in.

“Do you want to make that a wager, pops?” Kione called out as she moseyed into the sand fighting pit with her own training sword in hand. She was Nakata’s daughter and, just like Arakh was destined to inherit his father’s seat of power, Kione was set to become the future Jarl’s right hand. Her and Arakh had grown up side-by-side with that future in mind.

“Kione, shouldn’t you be overseeing the cleanup? Today’s was worse than usual,” Nakata said critically. Normally he handled matters of security for the keep, but he had been entrusting Kione with more duties recently to prepare her and was using his newfound free time to drive even more “lessons’ into Arakh’s head.

“Yeah yeah, I’ve already handled that,” she waved dismissively. “Sweeps are being done of the Keep. The first are already back. The quake was stronger than normal, but the restraints we set up last week to keep the bigger stuff in place held strong, so there was minimal debris to reorder. Cleanup is already underway. Everything is handled.”

“Really? Everything?” Nakata raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “How about-“

“Yes, I also sent out Caria and Brutus to do a scan of the external foundation, just to make sure there’s nothing that needs patching,” she quickly snapped before he even had the chance to question her. He didn’t seem completely convinced, but you could still see the flicker of pride as he looked at his daughter. She was growing into a very competent Steward.

“Well, I suppose if that is the case, there’s no reason for you not to join us. In fact, I was hoping to get you some extra training in anyway. What kind of wager were you thinking?”

“Well, as a Steward, I am loathe to see my lord so troubled over the affairs of his kingdom,” she said, the blatant surreptition dripping from her words as she shot a quick glance over to Arakh that spoke volumes to him in just the slightest motion. Anyone else would have missed it, but he immediately recognized what she was doing.

“And as a leader,” Arakh said, stepping forward and taking the lead of the conversation, “it’s my duty to assuage the concerns of my Keep. What is it you always say? A true leader serves his subjects just as much as they serve him. What kind of Jarl would I be to choose inaction and let doubt fester in my Steward’s mind?”

He did his best to weave as many platitudes and nuggets of wisdom that Nakata had dropped over the years into his speech, pleased to turn his own words back on him.1

“Well, if there is anything I can do to support you, Jarl-to-be, please let me know,” Nakata said, showing just where Kione had picked up the drip in her words. He saw that Arakh was playing to his ego but was more than glad to oblige, especially since he saw an opportunity.

“So, you’ll speak with my father?”

“Don’t push it, young lord. What I’ve said stands. Jarl Utam has many other concerns to handle. Word of our… problems has spread and there are whispers of war. He’s rallying a fighting force, but your father has maintained peace in our lands for so long, it seems we have a generation of green fighters on our hands so it’s turning out to be harder than expected. If I could report to him that at least someone in this new generation has got guts after all, maybe that confidence will give him the time to consider other matters,” he said pointedly, gesturing at Arakh with the wooden training sword.

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“Well, if that’s the case, I would be more than happy to put an old man on his ass. For the cause, of course” Arakh said, readying his stance and charging. Despite making the first move, Nakata had always been faster and that shone true even now. Arakh’s first blow, meant to set the pace of the fight, was easily deflected and countered.2 Nakata let off blow after blow in return and all Arakh could do was guard, looking frantically for an opening.3

As he was getting pushed back, close to the edges of the fighting pit, he saw his chance. Going low, he quickly dipped to the side to open up his options, throwing a glancing blow as he went and pulling Nakata’s attention away from the other combatant he hadn’t yet realized was in the fight.

In his new position, he eyed Kione as she charged her father from behind, then he squared up to strike. Nakata cleanly blocked his blow and noticed Kione’s approach at the last second. He was late to deflect her attack, so she was able to just barely clip him. The hits they were landing might have given them a leg up if this was a fight to the death, but it was a fight of principle instead. They needed a definitive victory.4

With the pieces in place, Arakh decided to start pushing toward securing said victory. As Nakata’s attention was split, he dove in close, desperately searching for a blow to land as Kione did the same from behind, but Nakata’s defense was almost impregnable. Even fighting two on one, he acted with a steady sureness befitting a seasoned warrior that the two weren’t able to sway.5

Slowly, the advantage that their surprise attack afforded them faded as Nakata stabilized. It started to look grim, so Arakh decided to make one last play to secure the fight. He shot a glance at Kione to communicate his plan and she returned it. She knew what the situation was and what they needed to do to overcome it.

The two dropped their assault at the same time and leapt back out of reach, then waited.

Nakata held his position, waiting to see what they were trying to do, but when neither moved, he decided to press the attack. He started toward Arakh. Just as they expected, Arakh dashed forward at the same moment, meeting Nakata halfway. Instead of swinging with his sword though, he jumped into the air. Nakata’s sword swung at Arakh but he used his own to block, and at the same time Nakata brought his free arm up to catch Arakh’s weight. Taking the opportunity, Arakh planted his feet cleanly on the center of Nakata’s chest and kicked off, sending him rocking backwards.

The force of the kick wouldn’t have normally been enough to balk Nakata, but in the same moment Kione, who had made her move just a beat later, kicked out with her own leg to stop Nakata from compensating with a step backward. Caught thoroughly off guard for the first time in the fight, Nakata stumbled and fell to the ground.6

The two wasted no time, dashing in to finish the fight as they considered him helpless on the ground, but even then he was too much for them. In a series of moves so quick neither of the younger fighter’s fully registered it, Nakata first brough Kione to the ground with him, then pivoted Arakh, reversing their positions and pressing his sword to his throat, signaling the end of the fight.7

He stood there over the two of them solemn and stern as they gasped for breath at the sudden exertion. The jovial attitude from the start of the fight was gone.

“That was a neat trick,” he said as he extended his hand to pull them up. “But tricks only give you a leg up on someone you match in skill. They won’t win you the fight against a superior opponent. The only way to do that is to get better yourself.”

Both Arakh and Kione felt the bright red flush of embarrassment and shame on their faces.

“Arakh,” Nakata said after a deep sigh. “I know you’re worried. We all are. I’m not being dismissive when I tell you to leave it be. I just need you to understand that worrying won’t make you any better equipped to handle what’s coming. The only way you can do that,” he picked up the wooden sword and thrust it into Arakh’s hand to punctuate his point, “is to get stronger. So focus on that.”

Arakh nodded solemnly as he took the sword but remained silent.

“It seems like we won’t make any more progress for today,” Nakata said, taking pity on him. “Take a break, Arakh.”

Nakata collected himself and marched back into the Keep.

Neither spoke until they were alone in the courtyard. The first one to break the silence was Kione. She moved over to Arakh and put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s head inside.” She tried to tug at his arm, but he didn’t follow, instead moving over toward the wooden dummies he used to practice his swings.

“You head on in. I want to get a little more training in,” he said as he started going through his drills. He was trying to put on a solemn face, but Kione could saw through it.

“What’s up? Did something dad said strike a nerve? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“No. I mean yeah. It’s just,” he worked through his thoughts between swings, trying to put them into words, but he had to go quiet for a minute before finally settling on something. “Do you think I’m like my father?”

Kione pondered the question for a moment.

Jarl Utam was an intense person. According to her history lessons, the Jarl Atan, Arakh’s grandfather, was a tyrant of sorts. He treated his own people well, but through his reign, he started countless conflicts with his neighboring Jarls to expand his territory to varying degrees of success. At his height, he nearly doubled the territory their family controlled, but by the time he died, he had lost nearly all of it. In fact, he passed away unceremoniously in a battle over the small territory they still controlled.

Because of that, Jarl Utam inherited a devastated and war-weary land surrounded by people that were chomping at the bit to cannibalize what they thought would be a vulnerable state with an amateurish little lordling commanding its armies. A doomed situation. Despite that, he never faltered. In resounding victory after victory, Jarl Utam rallied his forces, crushing those that tried assailing Gamman Keep with one hand while extending the olive branch with the other, effectively neutralizing every threat Jarl Atan left behind.

In less than 5 years, he took a Keep on the verge of annihilation and turned it into a burgeoning land. Not everything was fixed, obviously. There were people that still despised the Gamman name on principal, but nobody had the will or force to put that hatred into action.

In short, Jarl Utam was a legend.

As she looked at Arakh – who was clever but not a genius, who was strong but not a warrior – she had to ponder it. She tried to find a way to answer in a way that wouldn’t hurt his feelings, but the brief silence was answer enough.

No, you’re not like your father.

“I figured,” he said downtrodden, never looking up from the dummy. He’d always felt a little inadequate hearing the stories of his father, but ever since the impending sense of doom arrived with the quakes that little voice had only been getting louder. He wasn’t upset at her since she was just confirming what he already knew.

“You know, I really thought I was finally making progress. Nakata’s been on the warpath with my training ever since the quakes started. He hasn’t said it out loud until today, but it’s been obvious that he’s been thinking I’m not good enough. He thinks I’m going to fail the Gamman Keep and-“

He was interrupted by a wooden impact on top of his head, just hard enough to sting. He turned to see Kione holding her sword out.

“Shut up, ‘Rak. You’re thinking too much,” she said as she tossed the sword over into the sand and gave him another familiar look that piqued his interest. She was keeping a secret. He could tell that she was just trying to distract him from his previous thoughts – cementing their validity in his head – but he was more than willing to accept the distraction.

“What is it?”

“I lied to my dad. He’ll probably figure it out soon though, so we should get moving if we’re going to check it out ourselves.”

The sense of doom started to swell in his mind, but it was overshadowed by his curiosity as he nodded for her to continue.

“The patrol checking the outside of the Keep already made it back,” she said, her own hungry glint forming in her eye. “They found a crack…”