《The First Paladin》 Chapter 01 – Training ¡°Again.¡± Alyssa heaved the wooden sword above her head once more. She had only been practicing for half an hour, and already she felt herself growing weary. The summer air gave no breeze, no reprieve from the hard work of her training. The sun beat down on her, and her face and arms glistened as she set her mind on the task at hand; the weather was the least of her concerns. She could no longer count the length of days her training had spanned; from the wet of spring to the frost of winter, in the summer sun and in the whipping winds of autumn. As long as Alyssa could remember, with whatever spare time she had after her day¡¯s work, she toiled once again at the sword. She swung it down into nothing. ¡°Again.¡± The word rattled through her head as her master spoke. A simple mantra that fueled her even when her strength seemed to fail her, as she felt in this moment. They had been practicing together long enough that the one word was all that was needed to push on, to persevere. She let out a grunt as her muscles flexed, and the sword was thrust down once again. ¡°Again.¡± Alyssa gritted her teeth, her arms wavering slightly as she rigidly lifted the sword. Her arms slowly dipped, as she usually didn¡¯t feel the effects of her exertion until the end of the session, letting the dull wooden blade down to the patchy yellow grass and giving her muscles a small, but much needed break. ¡°Are we nearly done with strength training,¡± she inquired the old man leaning on the fence to her left, ¡°because my arms--¡± Her master and guardian stood up to his full, intimidating height. He tilted his head and gave her a sideways look. ¡°Is that a complaint I hear? Maybe if we restarted our repetitions, we could find a suitable reason to be tired?¡± He took a bite out of a pale, wilted apple, then spit it out in disgust. ¡°Stupid scrawny piece of¡­¡± He waved the apple in front of Alyssa¡¯s face, who looked past it at the man¡¯s face, twisted in annoyance. ¡°This¡­ this is pig¡¯s food. A sad excuse for a fruit.¡± He tossed it aside. The apple hit the fence with a dull thud, then rolled toward Alyssa¡¯s feet, not quite reaching them before halting amid the flaxen grass. It had been nearly eight years since she became Caldir¡¯s apprentice. He taught her everything he knew about smithing, from smelting techniques to making buttons and buckles, and even to forging weapons (though she knew very little on the latter subject, only from what she had seen him do, and the seemingly random morsels of information he slung her way on any given day). He had a brash air about him, and though he seemed to rub some of the townspeople the wrong way, his attitude translated well into the business of selling his metalworks. Countless people had come through Familia asking for his handiwork, and not one would dare try and cheat him or talk down to him. Even the ones who knew nothing of his past could take one look at his scarred face and imposing height, and would be dealt knowledge enough. Most dealt with him in silence or few words, for they didn¡¯t want the quality of his work to suffer on their part in case of a misunderstanding, of which there had been few in the past. She shook her head at his display, then turned the conversation back to the topic at hand. ¡°You worked me to the bone today, even before we started sword practice. I just want a¡­¡± She hesitated a moment before continuing, ¡°... a break. Just a little one?¡± Already, Caldir was shaking his head. He jabbed a sausage of a finger into his bicep. ¡°You know how I got these muscles? From working hard, and working long. And not from taking a breather every few minutes.¡± Alyssa¡¯s gaze became fixed on the ground, and Caldir ran a hand through his short, white hair. ¡°Er, well,¡± he muttered as he picked up another wooden sword that had been leaning on the fence where he had been before, ¡°I suppose we can always just move on to techniques for today. It¡¯s not as if this will be any easier than the strength drills.¡± He rubbed the side of his nose and glanced away.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Alyssa knew what this meant. The beginnings of a smile formed on her face. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, and she lifted her head to face Caldir, who was preparing his fighting stance. As she readied herself, she vocalized her instructions. ¡°Stand your ground.¡± She planted her feet firmly, leaning over slightly to center her balance. ¡°Ready your defense.¡± She unslung the buckler from her shoulders and slipped her arm through it, shielding her left side. Her hand gripped the leather strap, creating a creaking sound. ¡°Keep your head up,¡± reminded Caldir. He was as still as a statue, putting his weight on his right leg. The only movement coming from his corner was his light wooden sword swaying slightly in his left hand. They stood in silence for a moment, sizing each other up as if they were about to engage each other in actual combat. Flies buzzed nearby Alyssa¡¯s head, and the low chatter of some townsfolk could be heard somewhere in the distance, but the duo had set their minds on one thing. This part bugged Alyssa the most; the waiting game. The battle of wits to see who would move first. She didn¡¯t want him to catch her off guard, but she didn¡¯t want to be utterly defeated by him once again. A minute passed, and all she could hear was her own breathing through her nose. She knew what the fourth rule was, but she knew Caldir well enough; she didn¡¯t have to worry. With a lunge, she swiftly moved forward and swung her sword low. A large ¡®klack¡¯ reverberated in her ears as Caldir¡¯s wooden shield expertly blocked her strike. He did nothing, but waited for her next move. A strand of dark hair fell across Alyssa¡¯s face, and she simply blew it aside; she didn¡¯t dare take her eyes off her opponent. Another minute passed. No one made a move. ¡®May as well be me,¡¯ Alyssa thought, and she went for another low strike. Blocked. Another low strike. Blocked. She then feigned a third low swing, and quickly swung her sword up, briefly knocking Caldir¡¯s sword hand to the side. An opening, finally. Her arm doubled back down, meaning to tap his leg with her sword, but Caldir had already seen it coming. He grunted loudly as he spun ninety degrees, his shield facing her, her sword swiping the empty air. ¡°Find your opponent¡¯s weakness, and create an opening,¡± said Caldir. ¡°You missed rule number four.¡± He didn¡¯t move from his new position. Alyssa slowly and carefully tiptoed around him to move back into a more advantageous situation. As soon as she was ready to face him again, Caldir followed suit, slowly moving around to her right. She moved with him, and they circled each other for a moment. ¡°I know what I was doing,¡± she said pointedly, ¡°when I bashed your arm away. I created a gap; gave myself the chance to hit you.¡± He chuckled, and she thought she could see a hint of pity in his eyes. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to wait for me to give you a chance? What did I tell you yesterday?¡± Alyssa was starting to get dizzy. Not wanting her movements to accidentally hold herself back, she stopped suddenly, and saw him drop his shield a fraction of an inch in surprise. Seeing the opportunity, she stepped forward and bashed her shield against his and pushed it to the side. She began to bring her sword down on his chest, but there was another loud ¡®klack¡¯, and she looked up at her sword hand and saw that Caldir had blocked her with his own sword. ¡®How did he do that so quickly?¡¯ she wondered, but her thoughts were cut off by a strong shove back from her mentor. She stumbled backwards, and nearly lost her footing in the process. ¡°Find your opponent¡¯s weakness, and create an opening,¡± repeated Caldir, shaking his head once again as he slowly approached her. ¡°If you knew my weakness, where would you be looking to hit? Were you looking for it?¡± Gathering her wits, Alyssa¡¯s heart sank. She knew his weakness, of course, but she wasn¡¯t about to hit his bad leg, not even for the sake of practice. ¡°I already know your weakness,¡± she said, panting for breath and stepping back as he drew closer. ¡®Why couldn¡¯t he see,¡¯ her mind screamed, ¡®I¡¯m following his instructions! I¡¯m right!¡¯ Clumsily, she drew up her shield and sword once again, staring Caldir in the face as he loomed over her. ¡°I¡­ I created an opening, though¡­¡± He stopped his advance and went back to his statue-still battle stance. ¡°You created an opening, yes, but not by exploiting my weakness.¡± Gently, Caldir let his shield slip from his arm, letting it fall to the ground. ¡°You¡¯re too familiar with me, sweet.¡± Alyssa was stunned by this sudden display of vulnerability; so stunned that she was too late when his leg swept around and knocked her own legs out from under her. She laid sprawled on her back, and Caldir already had his knee on her chest, his false knife to her throat. ¡°You¡¯re too familiar with me,¡± he reiterated before getting up to his feet with a loud grunt, ¡°don¡¯t let that be your downfall.¡± Chapter 02 - A Well-Dusted Baker The market at the center of Familia was bustling more than usual. Though the town could hardly be considered large, there were still a fair amount of people out and about as the sun hung lower in the sky. Alyssa had already been sent to the market by Caldir, but her curiosity might have led her there regardless. ¡®I can¡¯t manage a trip downtown tonight; my leg¡¯s been acting up,¡¯ he¡¯d told her, like he had time and time again, but she didn¡¯t feel much better. She rubbed her upper arms, still sore from the day¡¯s training and sparring, and she adjusted her tunic when she realized that she¡¯d left her leather shoulder guards on from training. Hoping no one would notice, she continued into the square. Even on the cobbled path leading down to the town¡¯s main plaza, the pleasant aromas hit her nose; some familiar, and some foreign to her, but not unwelcome. Normally, she would make a point of darting to the vegetable cart first, then to the meat vendor, then to whatever else was required of her; a simple, mostly quiet stroll. However, she could hardly see through the undulating sea of faces, and by the looks of it, the stalls had all changed places. A small jolt of panic gripped her with the thought of having to wade through and find all she needed in time. However, she made an effort to steady herself, swallowing and taking a deep breath; an exercise in clearing her mind of negativity a good friend had taught her, and she pressed in. Alyssa waited for a gap in the bustling procession before moving forward, ducking her head under an uplifted basket. A basket. She bolted upright, and another pang of anxiety rose up suddenly. She¡¯d forgotten to take a basket along. How was she supposed to carry all the food home, in her arms? She cursed herself for her forgetfulness and glanced around. She was nudged to the side by a small man carrying a large fish under his arm, and something was made clear among the crowd. There was a large yellow banner hanging over the plaza between two long metal poles. Written in bright red paint were the words ¡°Import Market, Today Only¡±. That explained a lot; the shift in the perfect layout, the variety of new smells, who she assumed was a dwarf in the fully human town of Familia. She strode up to a stall to find a friendly face. Niko, the young son of the vegetable vendor at only eleven, was doing his best to heave a heavy-looking pumpkin onto the counter. His face lit up and he attempted to wave hello, wobbling from side to side under the weight of the gourd. His mother shook her head and helped him complete his task, even though she looked busy with a customer. The whole family worked behind the table, the mister and missus and their son and daughter, cramped in the tight space they were assigned by the lord of the town. There was a disorderly and quite noisy queue in front of the vendor¡¯s counter, which allowed Alyssa to sneak by undetected. She waved back to the boy and bent down so her face hovered over the counter, and she asked him if she could have a head of cabbage. He glanced at the people his parents were helping, then back at her. Alyssa pleaded with her eyes. Niko then turned his eyes to the mishmashed line of people impatiently waiting their turn, a look of indecisiveness on his face. Finally, he nodded and quickly produced one from an array of baskets. The cabbage was small and misshapen, and brown around the edges. ¡°Don¡¯t you have any fresher ones?¡± she asked in a hushed tone. ¡°That one is fresh; picked it this morning,¡± said Niko¡¯s mother, Greta, from over her shoulder. Alyssa blushed and stood up. ¡°Produce is still coming up looking like that,¡± she sighed, ¡°and that¡¯s probably the best looking one of the bunch. Sorry, dear, but this year the crops aren¡¯t how they used to be.¡± Alyssa nodded understandably, and handed some copper coins over to Greta. She was about to walk away when she felt a small tug on her tunic. ¡°Going around without a basket? Or is that all you were thinking of buying tonight?¡± Alyssa looked down and shook her head. ¡°No, ma''am, I had just forgotten one at the shop. But I can make do without one for now.¡± Greta scoffed. She turned around and snatched up one of the baskets holding parsnips, pouring them into a nearly empty box of carrots, and quickly handed it to Alyssa. She only smiled at her before turning back to a pudgy-faced man with his arms crossed. Alyssa could only smile back in thankfulness.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. The rest of the trip around the market, however, was not as kind to her as Greta had been. She was forced to wait in line at the butcher¡¯s station, and had several people sneak their way in front of her before she finally reached the counter. Gracious that Caldir needed nothing more, she weaved her way through the crowd toward the straight street east, but not before making a quick stop at a local spice vendor. Often she¡¯d gazed at the colourful and aromatic food spices, hoping to one day make a purchase. Now, she noticed some she didn¡¯t recognize; surely a product of import, as the giant sign flying above her head had mentioned. There was a powder from ground sharf peppers, some exotic blue crystal salt, and something called ¡®cumin¡¯. Alyssa didn¡¯t like spicy food very much, but knowing that Caldir did, she decided to buy the sharf powder with what little spending money she had brought for herself. With all the hubbub at the town square, the cobblestone streets that wound around the town were practically empty. Alyssa sighed in relief. She came to a place where she knew she ought to turn left, but instead chose to continue forward. She could afford one extra trip for a friend. She passed a sullen-looking farmer and noticed a group of three older men playing a game of checkers; two playing, one watching. As she approached them, she couldn¡¯t help but pick up the middle of their conversation. ¡°... that man from Bagot was talking about. The sick people of their village, the dying crops here¡­ they¡¯re connected.¡± One of them scoffed. ¡°How, by magic? It¡¯s a plague and nothing more; if anything, we should keep them all in that godforsaken village away from the good of the land.¡± The one watching took a swig from a small leather-bound flask. ¡°You hit one thing right on the nose; the gods have left us. Ever since they intervened for mankind during the Dragon War, they haven¡¯t shown themselves once. We live in darkness¡­¡± The first man grunted. ¡°Yeesh, save some cheer for the rest of us,¡± then added, ¡°it¡¯s your turn.¡± Alyssa had heard tales of magic from her mother, but never the stories of the old wars; she had gone to Caldir to hear about those. A small, dull pang stung in her chest at her memory. Her mother, and her¡­ She pushed it out of her mind as quickly as she could, closing her eyes for a moment and taking in a deep breath to center herself. As she neared the bakery, she heard a muffled yelling coming from inside, and just as she reached the door to the shop, it flung open. Laurel Finch was unceremoniously shoved out by Madame Guff, who wore a scowl to contrast the girl¡¯s grin as she dusted off her hands and shut the door. Laurel was a sight to behold. Flour dust covered her from her already white bakers hat (thankfully covering her hair) all the way down to the tips of her worn out shoes. She looked silly with the white powder covering her normally dark skin, and Alyssa couldn¡¯t stifle her laughter. Ignoring the consequences, Laurel stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Alyssa. ¡°I think I¡¯m almost ready,¡± said Laurel, and Alyssa could tell she had a smirk on her face as she said it. ¡°Madame Guff told me I was going to turn out to be a fine baker.¡± Alyssa pulled away from the embrace and began wiping her arms and clothes. ¡°Was that before, or after you blew up a sack of flour?¡± Laurel chuckled lightly. ¡°To be clear, I only dropped half a bag. Anything else you might hear would be a total exaggeration.¡± The two of them laughed and chatted about their days as they strode down the streets, the long shadows of awnings and buildings shielding them from the setting sun. Almost immediately, Laurel had noticed the leather guards on Alyssa¡¯s shoulders and teased her, saying ¡°Only the best soldiers leave their armour on for all to see, flaunting it, moving it in such a way that the sun shines off it into the eyes of the gawking peasants.¡± Alyssa smiled, but stole a gaze down at the patchwork on both of their tunics before continuing their previous conversation. As they turned down the street where her destination laid, Laurel gasped and stopped, grabbing Alyssa by her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking of this all week long, but I didn¡¯t remember to tell you until now!¡± Alyssa wasn¡¯t shocked by the sudden shift in behaviour, but the realization that they had stopped in the middle of the street like this made her a bit uncomfortable. Laurel continued. ¡°The summer is nearly over, and we haven¡¯t gone on one camping trip. That needs to change!¡± Years ago, Alyssa¡¯s mother had always taken her and Laurel on short trips to a forest not far from the town. Those had been her fondest memories; hiking among the brambles and brooks, sharing interesting insects with Laurel (much to her mother¡¯s disgust), and best of all, pretending they were rangers of the wild. They would sleep under the stars at night, and during the day were taught how to hunt deer, though they never ended up killing one. They would sit wide eyed around firelight as her mother told fantastic stories of people with magical powers, recounting tales of great hunters who ventured into the mystical Cave of Familia at the edge of the forest, where they would be granted aid from the gods. For years after her mother¡¯s passing, Laurel tried to keep the tradition going, and nearly every summer, as often as time would allow, they would return to the forest and do it all over again; those memories were bittersweet when mixed with those of their childhood. ¡°How could I forget?¡± said Alyssa. ¡°I¡¯d love to!¡± A massive grin spread across Laurel¡¯s face, and she hugged her friend again. ¡°I can¡¯t wait! Meet me by the gap tonight as soon as you finish supper, okay?¡± Alyssa nodded and departed with a wave, heading down the street toward Caldir¡¯s workshop feeling refreshed. ¡°Finally,¡± she muttered to herself, ¡°something good to look forward to.¡± Chapter 03 - A Crossroad The hinges squeaked as Alyssa opened the wooden door and stepped into the workshop. Caldir had already cleaned up the storefront while she was gone, though the floors were still dusty and piles of dull scrap metal sat on their counters in the back. The last rays of day cast long shadows to the furthest wall, on which there was another door. She opened it, the hinges barely making a sound. In plain sight of the entrance was her guardian, reclining on a chair, smoking his pipe. ¡°Ah, finally, you¡¯re back,¡± he grumbled, and he gave a loud groan as he pushed himself up onto his feet. ¡°I was beginning to think you took a wrong turn on the way to the market and ended up in Lo¡¯tero. Bring it to the kitchen and we can start making the--¡± Caldir paused as his eyes flicked up from the basket of food to Alyssa¡¯s face, then back down to her clothes. His expression told her enough, but he spoke anyway. ¡°Clean up before we start the soup. It looks like you lost a fight with a dust devil, and I¡¯m not keen on eating dust devil for supper tonight.¡± Alyssa nodded, and hastily brought the flaxen basket to the kitchen before dashing to her room. The steps down into the cellar creaked as she descended them, and she kept the door open as a source of light. Even though the sun had nearly set, it made it so it was brighter than the door being shut for the moment. Alyssa made her way to her bed, a thin mattress on a sturdy little frame situated between a barrel of wine and a shelf of poorly made weapons. She quickly undressed and spread her clothes on the bed. Without being particular, she pulled a random weapon off the shelf, a dull rapier that had somehow fractured in half, and began beating the flour out of her tunic and pants. Somewhere in her mind, she knew this meant she would probably wake up with whitened clothes next time, but for the moment, all she needed was to do as Caldir had told her. ----- After much chopping and boiling, the soup was finished. Alyssa put a generous scoop into her bowl and carefully walked back to the table. The mixture of smells was delicious. It was a vegetable-beef soup, with the cabbage and meat Alyssa had bought at the market, as well as some carrots Caldir had been given by the cantankerous old Farmer Tildale, who lived just outside the town, as a begrudging sign of thanks for sharpening his plowshare (he wouldn¡¯t give a maggot off his worst tomato if his wife didn¡¯t do all of his relations with the townsfolk). Not waiting until it had cooled off, Caldir ate a steaming spoonful of broth and beef, smacking his lips loudly as Alyssa blew on her soup. For a couple of minutes, they ate quietly; the only words uttered in that time were Caldir asking Alyssa to grab some bread for them, which she wordlessly did. As they broke the stale bread and dipped it in their bowls, the stoic man spoke up first. ¡°You really took your time at the market, didn¡¯t you?¡± He was met with no response. He continued. ¡°Next time, I want you in and out of there quicker, alright? No dragging your feet and wandering about. Set your focus.¡± Alyssa stared at her rippled, yellowish reflection in her soup as his stern words sank in. ¡°There was a special sale at the market today¡­ Lots of imports from other towns¡­¡± mumbled Alyssa, and she cleared her throat, dislodging an errant strand of beef caught in the back of her mouth before continuing. ¡°It was busy. Lots of people were lined up. I¡¯ll try to be quicker next time, sorry.¡± She never wanted to give Caldir excuses, but she often couldn¡¯t tell the difference between telling the truth and making an excuse, or at least, how Caldir judged the difference. Caldir merely grunted and said, ¡°Right,¡± before taking another meaty spoon of soup. This was how meals with the blacksmith usually went; long, uninterrupted silences interspersed with bits of dialogue that could hardly even pass as casual conversation. Every breakfast and supper (and the occasional times lunch was had) felt like one long wait to see who would make the first move, much like sparring in the yard out back. ¡°So,¡± Caldir started, his voice ringing loudly against the palpable silence, ¡°I took a look at those shield bosses you crafted today. Much better than last time, I have to say. In fact, I¡¯ve noticed that you have shown great promise in your skills as a smithcrafter of late.¡± Alyssa was shocked. Was this a compliment? She could easily count on one hand the number of those she had been given by Caldir, but her memory couldn¡¯t serve her to recall the last time one had departed from his mouth at all. He continued. ¡°Which is why, starting tomorrow, I think it¡¯s time I taught you how to forge weapons. I¡¯ve hoped for quite some time now that your skills would finally be honed enough to take on this duty.¡± He paused for a moment and rubbed the side of his nose. ¡°Besides, my back aches from the constant swinging of the hammer, and I could use the extra hands.¡± Alyssa couldn¡¯t believe it. Yes, she had years of experience working in the shop, but that hardly qualified her. ¡°I¡¯m not ready for that. I don¡¯t see how you can tell I¡¯m ready just because my shield parts look better than last week.¡± She held her hands out, moving them up and down like scales. ¡°Making shield parts and horseshoes versus forging an actual weapon¡­ Those seem like two very different areas.¡± She picked her spoon back up and focused on her soupy reflection once again. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do it just yet.¡± Caldir brushed it off with a wave of his hand. ¡°Of course you can. I see it in your arms when you hold that blade in sword practice; you¡¯re strong. And I see it in those bosses and rims. You have an eye for detail in them that I know won¡¯t be amiss in a sword. Your eyes¡­¡± He chuckled lightly, and Alyssa tilted her head, confused at this sudden change in behaviour. ¡°You look more and more like her every day, your mother. I see it when you concentrate in the shop, or in our combat out back; there¡¯s a fierceness, a sort of magic in your eyes that so reminds me of Ariadne. And magic does not so easily fade through the generations.¡± He glanced to his right, where he had been sitting earlier. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Above the small iron stove was a sword hung neatly in a wooden frame that Alyssa knew all too well. It was a bit out of place since the rest of the small house seemed devoid of any other personal belongings. ¡°Your mother¡¯s first sword,¡± he said as he slurped up a spoonful of broth. Alyssa had heard him tell the story countless times, but cherished any memory of her mother, even if it wasn¡¯t her own. ¡°It was after a group of Hornarian bandits raided the town; she had done nothing but stayed in the house, armed with one of my hammers.¡± He let out a short laugh at the thought, as he¡¯d done every other time he¡¯d told it in the past. Alyssa allowed a small smile to form on her lips as the boisterous man continued. ¡°The next morning she woke up, furious with herself for idly standing by while the night watch fought off the thieves. She quite literally burst into my room, demanding I show her how to craft a sword for herself.¡± He shook his head. ¡°The whole week I spent teaching her, and she fussed the entire time that I wasn¡¯t letting her start. Finally, I gave her the tools on the last day of the week, and I can tell you¡­ The way she looked when she forged that sword, I would hate to be the Hornarian that would cross her! ¡°She was so proud of it, how she would swing it with ease in our own sword practice. I was proud of her.¡± He leaned forward and met eyes with Alyssa. ¡°And I will be proud of you, too, once you carry on the tradition. Hopefully with no bandits to spur you on.¡± Her cheeks turned red, and she turned away, her eyes beginning to well up. She had heard the story before, of course, but never understood what it meant for her. She always remembered her mother, the travelling merchant from Pasidine, as a kind-hearted woman, and that¡¯s who she strived to live like. Now she would finally get a chance to be more like her hero. ¡°I can¡¯t wait,¡± she said in a quiet voice, attempting, but ultimately failing to mask her emotions. Caldir cracked a rare smile and hit his hand on the table, rattling the dishes and causing a little bit of his soup to splash on the wooden surface. ¡°It¡¯s settled, then. First thing tomorrow, I¡¯ll show you my special tempering technique, and we can make you a sword. It will be perfect for you, seeing as how you¡¯ll need your own once you become a town guard.¡± The bread made a soft crunch as Alyssa bit down on it, and Caldir waved his hand in a dismissive manner. ¡°But for your training shift tonight, you can use one of mine.¡± Alyssa coughed in sudden realization. She swallowed the bread hastily. How could she have forgotten this? ¡°My first guard shift¡­ It¡¯s tonight? I thought I started this weekend.¡± Caldir eyed her suspiciously as he lifted his spoon. ¡°We talked about this the other day, didn¡¯t we? Don¡¯t tell me it escaped you already.¡± He sighed and shook his head. ¡°I know how airheaded you can be sometimes, but this is important. Not many people in this damn town can swing a sword like you. We need you on the evening watch.¡± Alyssa¡¯s heart sank. The commitment she had given to her training as a town guard was important to her, but she felt torn as she realized she would have to choose between this and her yearly camping tradition. Trying her best to shift the topic away from her, she struggled to think of a solution. ¡°What about you? You could take my place tonight¡­ You¡¯re by far the most capable fighter in town, far better than Lucas.¡± ¡°Watch your tongue. That¡¯s the captain of the guard; your captain once you start. I¡¯ll have no disrespect of that kind in my house.¡± He jabbed his spoon at her, then let it dip down as he looked away. ¡°My fighting days are behind me. I can¡¯t do it, not since--¡± He hesitated for a moment. ¡°Not with this bum leg, you know.¡± ¡°If you can still beat me in a fight, I know your leg can handle one night at the gate with Luc-- er, Captain Lucas. It may be in the past, but you¡¯re still a soldier at heart.¡± A stern look fell over Caldir¡¯s face, and Alyssa realized she might have gone a little far. He placed his spoon down beside his bowl and folded his hands. Alyssa swallowed hard. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this? After all this time I spent preparing you, training you? You should have let me know if you didn¡¯t want to train out back. What do you want from me?¡± Alyssa hung her head, a lump in her throat forcing a whisper. ¡°I just want to go camping.¡± He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. ¡°This is more important than you realize. A job with the evening watch is hard work, but imagine what a captain in, say, Aranthrail would say if you had a year¡¯s experience on guard duty. Even if you didn¡¯t get the capital''s attention, Corvia is brimming with cities that would kill to have a knight like you, to have your sword in its defense.¡± He glared at her. ¡°You know what this is about. We¡¯ve talked about this enough.¡± Alyssa rolled her eyes, blinking faster to hide the fact that her eyes were starting to glisten. ¡°I know you want me to be more responsible around the shop, but this isn¡¯t about that. This is very important to me. You don¡¯t understand--¡± She was interrupted by a huffing sound. ¡°I think I understand well enough. You¡¯re going to put your own desires above the safety of your people?¡± Caldir gave a haughty chuckle. ¡°Don¡¯t be so selfish. You can go camping tomorrow for all I care, but tonight, you will stay at the gate.¡± A silence hung over the table, and Alyssa¡¯s eyes burned as she stared directly at Caldir. A string of a thousand rebuttals played in her mind like an angry minstrel, but she came to a conclusion as she slowly stood to her feet. ¡°Fine,¡± she said out loud, ignoring the cracking of her voice, ¡°I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯ll stand guard tonight, but only because you can¡¯t be swayed one way or the other.¡± She began to walk away from the table while muttering under her breath. ¡°If you weren¡¯t so stubborn, maybe you could have tried to see things my way.¡± She heard another slam on the table from behind her; Caldir may have been old, but he was not hard of hearing. ¡°I¡¯m stubborn? Look at you, trying to skirt your duties for a bit of personal fun. Never mind how much you look like your mother, you act like your father!¡± Alyssa may as well have been struck by lightning; she stopped dead in her tracks and her heart suddenly pounded hard in her chest. She whipped around and pointed a finger at Caldir. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare compare me to that monster! I¡¯m not a coward that backs off when things get difficult, I¡¯m only trying to stand up for myself!¡± Tears rolled down her face as she bared her teeth at the man. ¡°That will be the last time I try that.¡± With that, she stormed to the cellar and slammed the door. She hastily threw some supplies into a bag and slung it over her shoulder. Her heart ached, and she could feel the tears splash on her hand as she packed. Behind a corner wall covered by an old workbench was a hidden exit, which she quickly used to sneak outside. A trapdoor lifted up just outside the fence of the small training arena, obscured by a patch of brush, and she made as little noise as she could as she bounded down the cobbled streets past candlelit windows toward the edge of town.