《The Sorcerer's Aria》


 Prologue: Lost on Sea and Land

    <h1></h1>


    As soon as he felt the ship lurch, Ennis Kane somehow knew that this was going to be the last time he saw this crew again. The last time he would see this ship again. And so, it came as no surprise to him when he heard the frantic shouts that echoed their way around the boat.


    But instead of making amends to an ethereal entity, or scrambling for a rowboat, Ennis did none of those things. Rather, he sat down and mulled over his life.


    Sure, there were things he regretted, and it could have been a whole lot better, he nodded to himself.


    But it wasn''t all that bad.


    *   *   *


    Lana Reagan was many things. The daughter of a wealthy landowner (as wealthy as one could be in a small village like Weston), an overseer at her family¡¯s sawmill, or a dreamer to those who knew her closely.


    For those who knew little of her, which was many- even in her small town- she was simply that one-armed girl. But Lana tried never to let her lack of an appendage stop her. And perhaps if she had lived anywhere other than the small town in the west of Solum, she might have been able to turn her life around.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    But unfortunately, life was tough for those who lived on the small island, and opportunities were scarce, especially for a girl with one arm.


    And thus it came as little surprise to her family when she requested to live by herself for the foreseeable future, in a little cabin in the woods.


    What would have come as a surprise, however, was the real reason she had asked to live alone.


    And possibly also the need for two beds rather than one, in her little forest home.


    *   *   *


    When finally it became time that Lana could no longer keep her secret from her family, her stomach had swelled to a considerable size.


    The stranger she had long ago found washed up on their shores was no longer the unspeaking, stony cold individual he had once been, but instead, a mirthful young man who delighted in teasing and joking around with Lana.


    However, although Ennis now loved to toe the line, he was very careful about never taking a step over it. He had seen the fire within her when he had refused to accept food or water for the nth time after he had been ¡®found¡¯. And he had no wish to see that roaring flame again.


    So as he stood at the front of his lover¡¯s family home, Ennis reached into his pocket and fingered his Tal, as he had done many times before.


    Hand in hand with his partner he knocked on the door.


    Hopefully, Lana¡¯s inner fire wasn¡¯t a family inheritance.

 Chapter 1: The Stranger from the Woods

    <h1> </h1>


    Everyone knew about the boy from the woods before they had even seen him. Although it was fairly normal for news about the latest child in the town to travel around fast, this time the town gossip was not about the new addition to the mother''s group. Rather, the news became common knowledge because of the unusual circumstances surrounding the couple.


    After all, everyone knew one-armed Lana.


    But no-one knew mysterious stranger to whom she had wed.


    The girl had married a foreigner.


    It wasn¡¯t as though no one had ever seen him. He occasionally accompanied his wife down to the market and was always approachable enough for the shopkeepers to get a few words in with him. However, whenever the subject of his origin was broached, Mr Kane always seemed to have another topic to talk about.


    But when the child came along, the small family who lived in the wood became even more unusual. A tryst with someone in a travelling merchant wasn¡¯t an unusual story for the villagers- but someone who had come out of nowhere, not to mention starting a family with one? That was another story entirely.


    In addition, once the baby was born, rumours starting flying again as the family became more and more reclusive. Of course, many thought that this was simply because of the taxing nature of early child rearing- but some still suspected that there was another reason.


    Folks in Weston had little else to do when they weren''t working their profession, and rumours travel fast in small towns.


    Soon, enough drunken bar stories and suspicions had been shared that almost everyone had heard of the foreigner who had used some sorcerous means to force a helpless woman to marry him- and bear his child.


    Of course, those empathetic to the family¡¯s situation dismissed these assertions as foolhardy midwives tales and encouraged those they knew to stop perpetuating the cruel tales. But children have a way of finding out things that adults try to keep them from.


    And thus, when poor Corwin Regan-Kane found himself in a classroom with 15 other children, there was a subtle but distinct sense of distance between him and the others.


    The teacher, Miss Morgan, was strict enough with the class that there was no mention of the rumours in her presence. But unfortunately, that protection didn¡¯t hold outside the classroom, where there was no method for poor Corwin to escape the bullying he endured for merely being born to a foreigner.


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    However, this was nothing compared to the harassment he faced when the time of the weaving ceremony came.


    * * *


    Miss Morgan tried to again rein in the class for what seemed like the 20th time in the last hour. She knew exactly why the kids were acting up, and who could blame them? This was their first chance to use the magic that they had seen everyone else use, and- she remarked to herself grimly- also a point in which their futures might be determined.


    ¡°Alright, settle down children. I know exactly why you''re excited, but don''t let it get to your head! The Examiner is already here- as I''m doubtless that you already know- and at least you''ve had the dignity so as to not barge in on his place of residence.¡±


    The kids giggled at that, and Miss Morgan allowed herself a small smile. No one in their right mind would dare to annoy the Examiner, especially not one about to take an exam for themselves.


    ¡°We''re going to send you to him soon, fret not, but before then I need to make sure that you won''t embarrass the entire village with a lack of basic weaving knowledge.


    ¡°Now, who can tell me what the three basic steps of weaving are?¡± Miss Morgan asked the class.


    A boy with sandy blonde hair immediately shot his hand into the air


    ¡°Yes, Brady?¡±


    ¡°The first step of weaving is the score,¡± explained Brady in a condescending tone. ¡°The next element is the-¡±


    ¡°Before you go on, Mr Ross,¡± interrupted Miss Morgan, ¡°Could you first explain exactly what the score means in weaving?¡±


    The affronted look the Brady gave her was enough to convey the disdain the boy felt at having to explain such a basic concept. How a 13-year-old boy could give her that look she didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°The score,¡± drawled Brady, with a roll of his eyes ¡°Is the melody that controls both the element that is actualised and the movement or attack patterns. It''s a line of music- often an entire song, in which points of the melody dictate the actualisation, movement, and attack of the element. The second element of weaving,¡± he started.


    Miss Morgan held up her hand to stop him.


    ¡°Absolutely right, Mr Ross. Someone else, the second step,¡± she asked, looking pointedly around the room. No hands went up, none of the children daring to draw the ire of Brady in case he felt ¡®showed up¡¯.


    ¡°How about you Miss Rose?¡± she asked pointing at a girl who was pointedly looking the other way.


    Albeit timidly, the girl answered perfectly.


    ¡°The second step of weaving is the soul,¡± she replied nervously, gaining confidence as she continued. ¡°The soul needs to be focused on the area in which you want to actualize the element.¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡± Miss Mogan smiled. This wasn''t exactly complex material, and she would have been quite surprised if any of her students were unable to answer her questions. ¡°Can you give us an example?¡±


    ¡°W-Well,¡± she stammered. ¡°If I wanted to create fire, I would first have a melody in my head -¡±


    ¡°The score¡± Miss Morgan interrupted.


    ¡°Yeah, the score,¡± she amended, ¡°which specifies the fire. Then I would focus my soul on my hand, and if the score was strong enough in my head, the fire would come from my hands.¡±


    ¡°Very good!¡± miss Morgan congratulated the girl. ¡°All right, can you tell me what the last step is, Corwin?¡±


    ¡°The last step is actualisation. It''s not technically a component at all,¡±  Corwin replied, as Miss Morgan smiled and nodded at him.


    ¡°Really, it''s the part in weaving in which the element specified by the score comes into reality- originating from the part of the body that the soul was focused upon.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± replied Miss Morgan. ¡°For now, that''s all you''re going to need to know, general knowledge wise, at least. However, a have a few last things you need to know before you actually meet the Examiner. Firstly, do everything that he says- it''s for a reason, even if you don''t understand what it is. And secondly, be as polite as you possibly can because he is in control of one of the most determinant tests in your immediate future. Good manners cost nothing, but the absence of them can cost everything.¡±

 Chapter 2: A Different Path

    On the way to the town centre, the class was more subdued than usual. On any other trip around town with Miss Morgan, there would be idle chatter and no end to students wandering off or getting waylaid by some distraction.


    This time there was almost dead silence within the group, as the kids walked towards the stage in the centre of town, where the Examiner stood.


    ¡°Alright, I''ll keep this brief,¡± he announced as his gaze swept the group of kids below. ¡°In my hands, I hold a Talem stone. Some of you might have heard about it, or seen your parents use it. For those that haven¡¯t,  this stone has runes inscribed upon it. When you concentrate on the correct score- called the activation score- and focus your soul on the Tal the runes will activate.


    This Tal, in particular, will only light up, simply because the word inscribed upon it is light. This is what you will be measured with.¡± He paused here, giving some of the slower kids time to catch up. There was always a few. ¡°The test is simple. Just concentrate on the score I''m about to give you and focus your soul on the Tal. Your score will be determined on how quickly you can memorise the score, how intense the light is, and how long you can hold the light for. If your score is impressive enough, I am able to grant scholarships to the prestigious Animar Academy. So, trust me on the fact that this is one test that you want to try your absolute hardest on.¡± he intoned.


    The kids nodded their understanding.


    ¡°Alright, line up, and let''s get this over with,¡± he finished.


    The kids quickly jostled themselves into some semblance of a line. Brady, to exactly no one''s surprise, had pushed himself to the front. The more timid kids in the groups allowed others to pass in front of them as they subtly tried to be in the latter half, but at the same time, not the last person to take the test.


    Corwin had long since learnt that it was easier to go where there was a gap for him. So he merely stood where he was until the last in line became apparent, and then promptly took his place behind him.


    Brady stepped onto the stage. He was nervous, but as nervous as he was, he was determined not to let it show in front of his class members- and especially not to the man in front of him. His father had taught him better than that.


    ¡°State your name, age, and religion if you follow any.¡± droned the Examiner like he¡¯d said it hundreds of times before, which he likely had, thought Corwin.


    Having given his name and details, Brady took hold of the Tal. The Examiner whispered what Corwin assumed to be the score into Brady''s ears. The boy gave a small nod to the Examiner and closed his eyes, as he concentrated. After a few seconds, he took the Tal from the Examiner¡¯s outstretched hands.


    Almost immediately, the tal lit up with a ghostly bluish light. Having never seen anything of the sort before,  Corwin had no way to tell whether that was a good result or not, but the surprise on the examiner¡¯s face seemed to indicate that it was. After keeping the stone alight for a few minutes, he opened his eyes again as the light flickered out.


    The Examiner wrote down something in his book, presumably Brady''s score, and told Brady that he had done an excellent job.


    Brady¡¯s smug expression never left his face as he descended down the stairs. Passing the start of the line, he looked through his classmates, as if daring them to beat his score.


    The next 10 or so children that went up and touched the Tal all managed to make some sort of bluish glow light, and held it to varying lengths of time. But none received any congratulations from the Examiner as Brady had.


    Finally, Corwin stepped onto the stage. As the Examiner hummed him a short line of music into his ears, he tried to quieten the butterflies that were wreaking havoc in the pit of his stomach.


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    After repeating the score a couple of times over to make sure the score was completely correct in his head, he gave the instructor a shaky nod and took the Tal.


    Repeating the music in his head over and over,  Corwin focused on the Tal and felt the connection click into place. The Tal lit up with a bluish light just as it had for the other children, however almost as soon as it had come, Corwin felt his connection break, taking away his focus and with it, the light. The Tal in his hands quickly returned to its normal grey colour.


    Compared to the other students, his light had gone out incredibly fast. He had only held the light for a few seconds! Panicked, he looked at the Examiner who returned his nervous glance with another look of mild surprise. Corwin didn''t think this was the same type that Brady received.


    ¡°Did you get surprised by the light and stop concentrating on the score?¡± asked the Examiner. ¡°Or was that really only how long you could hold it for?¡±


    Somehow he could feel that that was the limit. When he felt the connection sever, he knew it was through no fault of his own.


    But that wasn¡¯t going to stop him from trying again. It had to be a mistake.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, the light screwed up my concentration,¡± muttered Corwin as he shuffled his feet.


    There had to be some mistake.


    ¡°That''s alright,¡± comforted the Examiner. ¡°It¡¯s not an uncommon occurrence. I''ll give you one more chance, but that''s it.  Do you need to hear the score again?¡±


    Corwin shook his head. Determined, he concentrated on the score and focused his soul on the Tal.


    Again the Tal lit up as Corwin felt the connection set in place. However, again, he felt his connection cut off only a few seconds after the light.


    The Examiner shook his head and wrote down the score in his book.


    Too stunned to react to anything, Corwin stayed motionless as the Examiner took the Tal from his hands.


    Numb,  Corwin heard nothing of what The Examiner said to him as he descended from the stage.


    He spared a glance at Miss Morgan as he walked by, noting the look of pity in her eyes. Not one of the other kids mirrored that expression. In fact, a large portion of them- mainly led by Brady- seemed to find immense joy that he had seemingly failed.


    After the kids were dismissed, Miss Morgan walked up to the stage to meet with the Examiner.


    ¡°You must be proud,¡± commended the Examiner. ¡°I haven''t come across a student as astounding as Mr Ross in at least a year.¡±


    He was right, she should have been happy. Another one of her students was obviously on the path to the Academy- of which she had only had 2 in her whole 30 years of teaching. But conflict warred in Miss Morgan''s heart. She had seen all the teasing and bullying that Corwin had received, and had hoped that perhaps karma had some redemption in mind. However, it seemed fate had other ideas.


    ¡°Yes, it''ll be nice to have him out of my hair at least.¡± she acquiesced, sharing a look with the Examiner.


    The two were old friends, Miss Morgan having been a teacher for the latter part of her life and the Examiner being a regular yearly visit to her class.


    ¡°Troublesome kid, huh?¡±  wondered the Examiner. ¡°That''s unlike you to not have weeded it out of him already.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, there was little I could do this time. His father is quite a powerful man in this village. The kid is unquestionably talented, but I wish he''d at least face some retribution for the torment that he has put poor Corwin through.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure we can smooth some of those rough edges out at the academy.¡± nodded the Examiner. He flipped through his notes. ¡°Corwin was the last kid in line, wasn''t he?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± replied Miss Morgan. She could never show it directly to him without being accused of favouritism from all the other parents, but she really felt for the child. She¡¯d been one of the first to dismiss horrid rumours that had sprung up when the couple had announced their eminent child.


    ¡°Poor kid, poor kid,¡± murmured the Examiner. It was clear even to him that- even without the knowledge of village rumours- he was going to get bullied mercilessly. Especially when the kids started learning to weave properly. He was going to be a walking training target.


    * * *


    Corwin¡¯s walk home was a slow one. He tried not to think about it too much, about how much worse his life could possibly get, but there was no stopping the dark thoughts. One ray of sunshine might be the fact that Brady looked as though he was going to receive the scholarship, and would, therefore, be leaving the village. But, he was sure that any of the other boys in his group would love to take up his position as the gang leader.


    When he got home, his parents were sitting in the front room, waiting for him. Somehow, they knew his result- or perhaps they could just see it from his facial expression- because they didn¡¯t look like they were there to celebrate.


    Corwin tried to talk, but couldn''t find it in himself to tell his parents what had happened,  to tell him that he had failed. Lana walked over and embraced her son. She and Ennis were absolutely aware of the harassment their son was facing, even though little Cori tried to hide it from them.


    And, it wasn''t like she hadn''t heard the rumours.


    She patted Cori on the back as he began to sob quietly. Ennis stood quietly on the sidelines, waiting for the right time. He had guessed that something along these lines was going to happen, and had told Lana as such.


    But he hadn¡¯t told Lana everything just yet.


    Over the last week, Ennis Kane had been fighting with himself day and night leading up the ceremony. He couldn¡¯t reveal everything, that was absolute. And even revealing a little would bring them all into danger.


    But, no son of his was going to be called a weakling.


    No son of his was going to be a moving target for the rest of his life.


    seeing his son crying right in front of his eyes after trying to hide it from them for so long, he made his decision.


    His son was going to have to learn how to fight.


    The Kane way.

 Chapter 3: How to Stand

    <h1>Chapter 3: How to Stand</h1>


    Ennis grabbed his son by the hand.


    Cori, you''re only 13 years old. That is the age in this village that you begin to learn weaving. However, in my hometown, it is the age that you start to learn to defend yourself first- weaving comes later.¡±


    Neither Corwin nor Lana had ever heard Ennis talk about his hometown. It had been an unmentioned agreement in the family, who had realised after one of the many conversation deflections that Ennis had pulled.


    ¡°I know I haven''t been entirely straight with the both of you about where I come from, and I still can''t tell you the whole truth. But, I can see that you are going to need the skills that I learnt. Not just because of your classmates, but because of the mindset that it can give you. However, this is training that can only begin when both the teacher and the student are ready.


    Are you ready, Cowin Ennis-Kane? Will you accept me as your master and your teacher?¡±


    Albeit a little slower, Corwin had also come to the conclusion about what was going to happen to him without weaving ability. He didn''t want to get into fights, but it was perfectly evident to him that others weren¡¯t going to allow him that.


    ¡°I really don''t want to hurt anyone,¡± Corwin started. He looked down at his feet.


    When he looked back up and met his father''s eyes, the determination was clear.


    ¡°But I don''t want to be constantly watching over my shoulder for the rest of my life.¡±


    Ennis broke into a smile and put his hand on his son¡¯s back.


    ¡°I''m never going to be able to weave like everybody else can am I?¡± Corwin said in a small voice.


    ¡°I honestly don''t know,¡± replied Ennis truthfully. "But, I can teach you to be able to stand at the same level. And maybe, if you put in the effort, higher."


    * * *


    When Lana heard her husband tell Corwin that he could teach him to fight back, she was half convinced that he was merely telling her son a white lie. After all, she had never seen her husband weave even once. She had even suspected it was the reason why he didn¡¯t talk about his home village, that he had perhaps been kicked out for his lack of ability.


    And when she saw Ennis make the kid run around the garden, humming some strange sounds, she thought the perhaps he was just trying to distract Cori from the situation.


    Sometimes they would do push-ups, and sometimes they would climb the trees surrounding their property. At other times they would sit in the grass together, cross-legged with their eyes closed, motionless. It was bizarre.


    And at other times, they would fight. It was at those times that Lana would fret for her son, and scold her husband when her son came back bruised all over.


    But as time went by, things started to change. Cori¡¯s once youthful countenance was now prickly with the beginnings of a beard. Instead of the skinny child that he once was, he now sported tight muscles. They weren¡¯t bulky, like some of the men who worked on the fishing boats, but rather wiry and lean. And now when they came back from sparring, Cori wasn¡¯t the only one with bruises.


    Their son was no longer that fragile child that had sobbed in her arms just three years ago.


    * * *


    Corwin remembered his first day out in the forest with his father. He had thought it almost akin to torture, but looking back on it, his father was going easy.


    After the first day, which was pretty much just running and basic strength training, his dad begun to start teaching him to meditate.


    It was an arduously slow process, but soon he began to feel the changes in his body. Not only had he grown taller, but his shoulders had also become broader, and his arms taught with muscles. And if his father¡¯s skills were of any indication, he was decent and hand-to-hand combat.


    But throughout all this improvement, training never got easier. His dad seemed to know exactly how difficult it was for him, and whenever he felt like it was becoming easier the level would abruptly change.


    Even though he greatly changed since the ceremony, Corwin didn¡¯t risk entering the town. Although some of the kids would only want to rough him up a little, some of the kids were told by their parents that the son of an outsider should not be allowed to live in this town. And although it would¡¯ve been a blatant act of murder if an adult tried to harm him, a ¡®training incident gone wrong¡¯ would likely remain unpunished. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    But, on his 16th birthday, Corwin¡¯s parents decided that he needed to get an education- in both basic history and weaving.


    Corwin mother had taught him only the underlying theory for how scores worked for each of the common elements; fire, water and wind. Sadly, due to her disabilities, she had never properly learnt to utilise her weaving capabilities outside of basic utilities in everyday life, so combat weaving was off the table. And his dad still refused to show any sort of weaving whatsoever.


    Miss Morgan had agreed to teach Corwin privately. However, she was now too old to come to venture out into the woods herself. This meant that he needed to come visit her home in the village.


    Hopefully without seeing any of his old classmates.


    * * *


    Corwin approached the village warily.


    There was no walls, nor any fence that protected the perimeter of the village. It was too small a town to have the resources to build a wall, and there was little need for one. There was little monster activity on the small island of Solum. This was the reason why it was able to perform so well in the logging business, as well as the harvesting of rare herbs and forest plants.


    Approaching the first house on the outskirts town, Corwin couldn¡¯t spot anyone lying in wait.


    Logically, he knew that no one knew that he was coming into the town today. But the thought did little to quench the tension he felt.


    He wasn''t sure that he had the ability to fight with them, but it was reasonably confident in his ability to run away.


    Finally reaching Miss Morgan''s house, he timidly knocked on the door.


    ¡°Come in!¡± replied Miss Morgan.


    Opening the door, Corwin found his old teacher sitting in a wicker chair by the roaring fireplace. It was winter, and especially for someone of Miss Morgan''s age, the cold winds that braced the seaside town were excruciating.


    ¡°You''ve grown,¡± remarked Miss Morgan, surprised. Compared to the small boy she¡¯d taught only three years prior, the student at her doorstep now had the presence of a man.


    Corwin awkwardly smiled at her, unsure of how to respond, as he moved to sit down in the chair that Miss Morgan gestured to. Miss Morgan had also changed, he noticed, but not for the better. There now lay a cane propped up next to her chair, and her already frail body was now fraught with wrinkles.


    ¡°You''ve been out of town for a while now, so perhaps you don¡¯t know -I''ve retired from teaching. Now, don''t give me that face. I know that I''m old, but I''ll still do this favour for you and your parents.¡±


    Corwin breathed a sigh of relief.


    ¡°However, don''t think you¡¯re getting this education for free. I''m going to need you to clean, cook, and chop the firewood for me, for the duration that you are under my tutelage. Does that sound fair?¡± she questioned him.


    ¡°Perfectly¡± agreed Corwin.


    ¡°I will be teaching you what little I can about combat weaving, and general knowledge and history of the Alliance and the Republic.¡±


    ¡°But I can''t-¡±


    She cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.


    ¡°That''s ridiculous. If you expect to survive in this world, you need to understand the basic principles behind the magic that shapes our everyday life. And it just might save your life one day. There''s no lazing around in my class! Especially not if you''re the only student.¡± she added.


    * * *


    Quickly the two of them settled into a routine. In the morning, Corwin would make his way to her house, do all the chores early, and then sit down in the afternoon to receive his lessons.


    They weren''t physically challenging, unlike his dad''s, however they were still quite taxing. He had to memorize the basic scores for each of the elements, in addition to being able to recognise them aurally.


    After the first few tries, they hit the same limit as he had in the ceremony. He could only focus his soul for roughly 5 seconds. Without extensive practice, there was no way he could even actualize an element in that period of time. However, his small ray of hope came in the form of manipulating already existing elements and tal stones.


    Tal stones immediately took effect when the score was focused upon, meaning that he could use their effects for a few seconds before the connection was lost.


    Unfortunately, Miss Morgan only had one tal- a simple inscription that secreted water- because they weren''t cheap. So, the bulk of Corwin¡¯s practice consisted of manipulating small candle fires, cups of water, and small breezes.


    After a few weeks of practice, he could throw marble sized fireballs, freeze shards of ice, and create small lacerating effects with wind from already present elements. Miss Morgan claimed that she was impressed by his improvement, but Corwin suspected that he was far from matching the performance of his past classmates.


    ¡°When in combat, a sorcerer must always have some sort of score. If it¡¯s a fire mage, you know that it''s going to be a very steady tempo. If they are a water mage, then the score will be very slow with gradual builds and declines. Finally, if they are a wind mage, then you know that the score will be fast and spritely. There are of course other elements, but the scores for them are only known by Noble families- kept a tightly held secret.¡±


    Corwin nodded along.


    ¡°Now, tell me. How will this knowledge help you?¡± she had asked him one day.


    ¡°If you know what sort of score they are using, you can get a feel for their rhythm. You might even be able to predict when they will actualize their element.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Unfortunately, you are going to have to be reactive instead of proactive. You don¡¯t exactly have the capabilities to exchange ranged shots, so once they have their element ready, you¡¯re going to have minimal options. The best you can do is either take them out before they can hit you, or stop them before they can even take a shot.¡±


    Aside from her ¡°combat¡± lessons, there was another topic he sincerely hated: politics and history.


    To be fair, there were some parts of history lessons that Corwin actually enjoyed. He loved it when Miss Morgan talked about tales from the God Wars, and the history of the Gods, but unfortunately, that was a rare occurrence. Miss Morgan thought it incredibly crucial that Corwin came to understand the current political climate between the two powers; the Alliance and the Republic.


    Solum belonged to the Alliance, a small island off the coast of Animar, the main continent. Belonging to the other power, Ten¨¦re and Alacer. Coaevi remained neutral and acted as a neutral ground between the two powers.


    It had been only 5 years since the last war between them had ended. Now, there existed an uneasy truce between the two sides. The last war had only ended because of a champion from their side tipping the balance of power and forcing the Republic to agree to peace talks. This unnamed hero had then vanished, and no one had seen him since.


    The really boring topics were when Miss Morgan started to talk about the Noble families of Animar, and their internal politics. He couldn''t think of a single reason why they would be useful in a town as small as Weston, not to mention on an island as small as Solum. Where did she think that he was ever going to meet a noble, much less fight one?


    Perhaps it was because of the boredom of the lesson, or perhaps it was just dumb luck, but it was after one such lesson that Corwin didn¡¯t take as much care on the journey back to his house.


    Because as he left the house, he almost walked straight into a boy around the same age as him.


    ¡°No way! Corwin, is that you?¡±

 Chapter 4: Fighting and Running Away

    <h1></h1>


    Corwin barely recognised the kid. His name was Dalton, and Corwin didn''t think that he''d ever heard him speak in class-except to back up Brady.


    ¡°Nice to see you again, Corwin. We really missed you! Why did you disappear?¡± He asked with undisguised glee on his face.


    Corwin looked around, for a possible escape route. Seeing none, he focused his full attention on Dalton.


    ¡°Yeah, I missed you as well.¡± He said, in a smile that he wasn''t feeling.


    With that, Dalton¡¯s grin stretched even wider.


    ¡°Well that''s fortunate!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°I was just thinking that we needed to catch up- what say you and I come to meet some old friends?¡±


    ¡°Look, I would love to on any other day, except I''m a little busy at the moment,¡± Corwin replied tersely.


    So far so good. If he could just convince Dalton that they could meet another day, then he could avoid him again.


    But then the door opened.


    ¡°Don''t forget about your test tomorrow, Corwin. You¡¯ve got no excuses this time.¡± Miss Morgan reminded him as she stepped out of her house.


    Dalton looked as if his birthday had come early.


    ¡°Corwin, you''re getting lessons?¡± He asked, feigning curiosity while trying to hold back his obvious mirth. Well, then why don''t you let my friends and I assist you in a sort of practical lesson?¡±


    Miss Morgan stepped back in surprise when she saw that Corwin wasn''t alone. Quickly recovering, she tried to give Corwin an excuse.


    ¡°Dalton, you''ll have to forgive Corwin today. I asked him to go and collect me some herbs in the forest- I''m sure he''d love to catch up with you at a later date.¡±


    ¡°That''s no worries Teach; I''m sure that I can give an old buddy a hand, especially one I haven''t seen in so long!¡± Dalton jovially replied.


    ¡°Actually I think-¡± Miss Morgan tried to reason with Dalton before Corwin shook his head at her. There was no need to involve her in this. If she was seen to take his side, then that would be all the excuse that some villagers would need to ostracise her from the village.


    ¡°It''s fine, I''m sure that the two of us will get the job done in no time,¡± Corwin said weakly.


    ¡°Exactly. In no time at all.¡± grinned Dalton.


    * * *


    The two kept up pretences until they reach the edge of the forest, out of sight of miss Morgan''s house.


    ¡°Alright, do we have to do this?¡± he asked Dalton.


    ¡°Whatever could you mean?¡± smirked Dalton with that smarmy grin still on his face.


    ¡°Cut it out. We do this now, or we both walk away.¡± Corwin warned, subtly lowering his centre of gravity and bending his knees.


    ¡°Ah, I see the foreigner¡¯s child now has a bit of fire in him! I guess that''s for the best. You wouldn¡¯t be very good practice for me if you were to just lie down and give up.¡±


    Dalton casually crossed his arms behind his back.


    ¡°But you know, for all this talking, I think you¡¯re one that¡¯ll be wanting to hurry up and start this. ¡®Cos my mates are gonna come searching for me pretty soon- I only went out to get a few twigs and sticks. Won¡¯t that be a fun reunion?¡±


    Great, now he had a time limit. Dalton didn¡¯t have any reason to lie and wanted to take him out all on his own anyway. This was going to have to be all out from the start.


    Wasting no further time, Corwin launched himself at Dalton, aiming to disable him before he could actualise his element.


    Unfortunately, Dalton was one step ahead of him, whipping out his arms from behind his back. Quickly he then struck the two Flintstones in his hands together to create a spark, causing Corwin to halt his charge and jump back.


    All weavers required an element to manipulate. Actualising the element, bringing it into reality through the soul, required a little bit of time. This time could be reduced through constant training and practice, however, in the beginning, it was quite slow. This is why most weavers used ignition devices.


    Ignition devices were small samples of the weaver¡¯s preferred element, which could then be developed and manipulated immediately. Elements from the soul would always overpower naturally occurring ones, and with proper training, actualising an element would eventually be faster than using a device. However, although Corwin knew this from his lessons with Miss Morgan, there was little he could do to take advantage of this information.


    Using his left hand, Dalton developed the spark into a ball of fire a little smaller than a loaf of bread. Letting it hover above his outstretched hand he smirked at Corwin. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    A fire weaver was the worst matchup for him, Corwin grimly acknowledged. A water weaver would have to develop his element enough to be able to encircle him before they could do anything threatening. A wind weaver would have to circulate the wind around his body in addition to actualising it before it could do any damage.


    Fire weavers, on the other hand, could simply create a small spark, throw a fireball, make another one, and then continue the cycle as long as he had an ignition device. Otherwise, he would have to actualise the element every time before he shot. This was why most untrained folk tended to focus on fire, Miss Morgan had said, because of its simplicity and speed.


    Corwin reevaluated his plan. Since Dalton already had his element ready, there was no way to easily disable him. But he had to get in close, otherwise, he really was going to be moving target practice. for him.


    He started to slowly approach him but was stopped in his tracks when Dalton laughed.


    ¡°Do you really think that it''s going to be that easy? That I¡¯m just going to throw fireballs at you? Guess I really expected too much from a foreigner who can¡¯t even weave.¡±


    While Corwin had been considering his options, Dalton¡¯s right hand had started to glow. Flames lazily climbed out of his fingertips and coiled themselves around his hand. Keeping his left hand in control of the fireball in front of him, he pointed at Corwin with his right hand writhing in fire.


    ¡°Please, do you really think that I''m going to leave myself unguarded? That¡¯s beginner shit.¡±


    That made it a bit harder. Change of plan.


    ¡°I just want you to know, I''m really going to enjoy this.¡± Dalton chuckled, as he raised his hand over his head, preparing to throw the fireball.


    ¡°Of course you plan to throw things at me from a distance. You don¡¯t even have the guts to fight me without hiding behind your fire, do you?¡± Corwin taunted, as he straightened and stepped back a few steps.


    Infuriated and red-faced, Dalton made a fist, causing the fireball to vanish in a small explosion.


    ¡°You have grown a pair, foreigner! I guess it would be better to feel your burning flesh beneath my hands.¡± he snarled.


    Focusing on the flame surrounding his hand, Dalton superheated until it started to distort the surrounding air.


    Corwin kept his focus his opponent in front of him. Miss Morgan hadn¡¯t been wasting her time, he had been learning some scores. However, his 5-second limit was barely going to allow him the time to actualise an element, not to mention actually allowing him to use it. If he had an ignition device, even a little vial of water, he possibly could have made some protection from the flame. But as it stood, the only way for him to take the fire was with his own body. This was going to hurt.


    Keeping both his fists clenched and in front of his chest, he slowly approached Dalton. There was no way that Dalton was going to allow him to get a hit off without using his flame, so he had to make it count. This was going to hurt real bad- but he was running out of time, and there was nothing else he could think to do.


    They were both coming in close now.


    Grimacing at the knowledge of what was going to happen, he threw a slow right hook at Dalton, who easily caught it with his flame wreathed hand and smiled maliciously.


    Corwin nearly screamed as Dalton¡¯s fiery grip almost robbed him of all thinking capacity. Swiftly, he bit down on his tongue to retain his focus.


    Taking advantage of Dalton¡¯s momentary gloating, Corwin quickly stepped in- ignoring the searing pain on his wrist, and stamped his foot on Dalton¡¯s.


    Before Dalton could realise what he was doing, he slammed a vicious headbutt into his opponent¡¯s temple. Dalton stumbled backwards, causing him to release Corwin¡¯s hand- but with Corwin¡¯s holding his other foot securely in place, he toppled over backwards.


    Although he dearly would¡¯ve loved to repay Dalton for his red raw wrist, he knew that his friends could come at any time. With one last grin at the boy rolling in the ground, hands cradling his head, Corwin turned and ran back towards his house.


    * * *


    Breathing heavy from sprint back, Corwin pushed the door open and called for his parents.


    ¡°It... happened!¡± he panted, out of breath.


    ¡°Slow down, what exactly happened.¡± Lana tried to calm her son. She had a pretty good idea, but unfounded panicking wouldn¡¯t help anyone.


    After a few deep breaths, he composed himself.


    ¡°One of my classmates caught me after a lesson. We fought, and I only just managed to escape,¡± he held up his burnt wrist. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was coming back in full force. Clenching his teeth, he continued.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way I can get back to Miss Morgan¡¯s house now- they¡¯re going to be waiting for my return.¡±


    Gasping at her son¡¯s severely burnt wrist, Lana quickly ran off to get some bandages and salve. Ennis stayed with Corwin. For better or worse, that had been his son¡¯s first real fight. This was the point at which kids either gave up or kept on.


    ¡°How did you fight?¡± he asked in a severe tone.


    Grimacing as his mother wrapped applied the salve, Corwin looked up at his father, recognising the seriousness in his voice.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t able to stop him from actualising an element,¡± he lamented.


    ¡°Unfortunate, but sometimes that¡¯s just not possible. So, how did you deal with the element?¡±


    With a small smile, Corwin continued. ¡°I goaded him into throwing away his ranged advantage, and then got him to fall for a feint.¡±


    Ennis dropped the serious look and broke into a grin.


    ¡°Then it sounds to me that you fought well. Congratulations on your first fight!¡±


    Corwin broke into a full-on smile on that


    Ennis continued.


    ¡°You got away with minor injuries and effectively took down an enemy with an already actualised element. He might not have been the most experienced opponent, in a serious fight, there''s no way anyone would discard their range advantage. But, you weren''t experienced either, and you still came out on top, despite all the disadvantages. That¡¯s an achievement worthy of celebration!¡±


    Corwin beamed at the compliments, but that happiness quickly gave way to sadness when he remembered.


    ¡°I''m not going to be able to take lessons with Miss Morgan anymore, am I?¡±


    Lana hugged her son closely.


    ¡°I don''t know Cori; I just don''t know.¡±


    That was when they heard footsteps approaching the house.


    ***


    Lana¡¯s father was decently well off. It was how he could afford to let his daughter and son-in-law live in the forest, while neither of the couple worked a job. Sure, they provided for themselves with what they could find in the woods and traded for what they couldn''t in the market, but houses didn''t come cheap.


    The reason he was well of was that he worked as the negotiator for the bulk of trade between Solum and Animar. He would meet with the emissary, who would tell him what was in demand, at what quantities would be purchased, and then Aiden would arrange for his network of gatherers to collect the required amount.


    And it was precisely because of this connection with the emissaries that he knew about what was coming for the town.


    As well connected as he was, there was only a small portion of people that he deemed worthy of sharing the information. His head gatherer had served him faithfully throughout the years; so he was told. The town baker had not only provided magnificent bread and food for him over the years, but had also been a constant drinking companion and a dear friend; so he was told. Of course, his own wife was also informed.


    However, there was another close member of his family of whom he had disclosed nothing to. He loved Lana with all his heart, and despite what many thought about Aiden¡¯s stony demeanour, her disability never changed his affection towards her.


    Rather, it was her husband. The man had never shown any sense of shame when he had received his generous support over the years, never embarrassed that he had relied so heavily upon his wife''s parentage.


    It was like the man didn''t understand basic common sense. But then again, if his suspicions turned out to be true, then perhaps it would be entirely understandable.


    And so it came to be that Aiden grumbled all the reasons why he shouldn''t be coming here as he made his way to his daughter''s house. In the end, it boiled down to one thing. Although he greatly disliked the man, he was not ignorant enough to ignore the joy he had brought his daughter. And his grandson was a beautiful boy.


    Coming up to the door of their wood cabin, he quickly opened the door and found himself face to face with a knife-wielding Ennis.


    The poor man almost fell backwards in shock, and had it not been for Ennis catching him at the last minute, he would have.


    Shaken, he looked inside the house to see his grandson fiercely being protected in the embrace of his daughter.


    Apparently, this wasn''t going to be the first piece of bad news the family experienced today, Aiden thought dejectedly.

 Chapter 5: Leaving a Life Behind

    <h1>Chapter 5: Leaving a Life Behind </h1>


    Finally recognising her father, Lana released Corwin from her embrace.


    ¡°Dad?¡± She mumbled, confused, as she wiped tears from the side of her eyes.


    ¡°It looks like I''ve come at a bad time, sorry Lani. But this is a little too important to wait. You have to leave.¡±


    ¡°But he didn''t do anything!¡± Exclaimed Lana. ¡°And how do you even know about it? Cori only just came back now!¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯m pretty sure we''re talking about two different things. Trust me; whatever just happened, you need to leave this house and this town right now.¡±


    ¡°Hang on Mr Regis, surely you can convince the villages to lay down their pitchforks,¡± interjected Ennis


    ¡°If this were a normal situation, I probably could,¡± ceded Aiden. ¡°But it''s not the townsfolk this time. Recruiters are coming to Weston. Animar is preparing for war, and they''re taking everyone that they can gather. I''ve just received word from Etton that the recruiters have just finished their testing, and are heading for us as we speak.¡±


    At the start, Corwin worried that his grandfather had come because of his fight. But now that he understood it to be for something else he was confused. Why would recruiters bother Aiden so much?


    Lana echoed his thoughts.


    ¡°And what''s the problem with this?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It''s not a paper test. They¡¯re are testing all men of age, to measure their combat abilities.¡±


    With a sharp look in Ennis¡¯ direction, he reiterated.


    ¡°They¡¯re testing everyone using tal stones.¡±


    Ennis stiffened at that.


    Seeing his understanding, Aiden turned back to leave.


    ¡°I''m still not happy with your choice to leave our family for this man, Lani.¡±


    ¡°Dad! Why are you still going on about this! And is this really the time-¡±


    Ennis put his hand on his wife''s shoulders and squeezed, stopping his wife mid-sentence.


    ¡°But, I can respect the courage you had in following your heart. Good luck.¡± he finished as he trudged back the way he came, closing the door as he left.


    ¡°What in Arsten¡¯s Forge was that? And why do we need to leave?¡± she turned to her husband.


    Ennis took a deep breath. It was clear that he couldn''t hide it from his family any longer.


    ¡°Your father is right,¡± he sullenly replied. ¡°He knows that I''m going to get caught by the recruiters.¡±


    ¡°Is all this to do with why you can¡¯t weave? Please, Ennis- If this secret means that we can''t stay here, then I need to know.¡±


    Then she looked down, to her son in her arm.


    ¡°No, we both need to know¡± she amended.


    ¡°Lana, I have to tell you now. But please know this; the only reason why I didn''t tell you earlier was not that I didn''t trust you, but because then the burden of this secret would fall onto you.¡±


    Ennis closed his eyes, knowing what was coming.


    ¡°I''m not from the Republic.¡±


    Lana couldn''t stop herself from recoiling. Corwin hadn''t had the same education that she had. He hadn''t been brought up him a time of war, where the mere mention of the Alliance could spark grief and hatred. When she had been Cori¡¯s age, she¡¯d seen the men return, broken, scarred, and defeated from the war.


    And now this man, the man she had wed, now claimed to be one of those monsters.


    Ennis winced after seeing his wife''s reaction. And even though he had long since made peace with the fact that the enemy wasn¡¯t as evil as the tales told, he could understand the fear, hate, and disgust that warred in her eyes.


    When he had washed up on the shore and been found by her, he had thought that the rest his days would be nothing but torture at the hands of these savages. But, the girl that had found him, the One-Armed girl who wouldn''t have even been able to threaten a child, showed him a side that he''d never thought possible from the Savage Nations.


    Corwin now sat in the middle of his parents, looking back and forth between them. He was shocked, of course, but his mum seemed to be more than surprised. More¡­ more scared.


    Ennis knew that this wasn''t something that his wife could process quickly. However, he had no choice but to rush it. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°If those recruiters force me to use a tal, I''ll be found out immediately: I can''t use the scores that you can. You two need to leave.¡±


    Momentarily recovering herself, Lana caught onto what he had said.


    ¡°I still haven¡¯t forgiven you for keeping it from me yet- and I¡¯m absolutely not able to accept that my husband is one of the enemy that quickly. But you¡¯re coming with us. By the Five, you¡¯re not getting away from me that easily!¡±


    Ennis smiled. As torn as his wife obviously was, she was still able to talk him under the table. But she didn¡¯t know angry mobs and bullying as he did. His childhood, much like Corwin¡¯s, was fraught with bullies of some form or another- however, for a greatly different reason.


    ¡°Lana. The townsfolk won¡¯t simply give up when they find that we¡¯re just missing. All that anger and hate doesn¡¯t dissipate that easily. If I¡¯m not there, they will complain to the recruiters that I¡¯ve fled from the army, that I¡¯m a deserter, or worse. There¡¯s just no other way.¡±


    Tears sprung to the corners of Lana¡¯s eyes. She wanted to refute him, to tell him that he was a defeatist, needlessly self-sacrificing. But looking at his smiling face, she knew that he had made peace with it.


    ¡°Well then, I¡¯m not going to leave either.¡± she proclaimed with an air of finality.


    Now it was Ennis¡¯ turn to feel helpless.


    ¡°You can''t-¡± he started, before Lana cut him off.


    ¡°No. Don''t you dare try to use some bullshit excuse on me. What, you think I''m going to be able to protect our son? You know as well as I do that I''m going to give absolutely no advantages in a combat situation. He''s going to be the one that has to protect me!¡±


    She turned and directly addressed her son.


    ¡°Corwin Regis-Kane, I love you more than anything else in this world. That is why I''m telling you that you have to leave. If you even try to speak a word of why you should stay, so help me, I will kick your skinny ass right out this door. Now come here and give your mother a hug.¡±


    Corwin had absolutely no words for his mother after that rant. He was still trying to process the fact that he had to leave his house, his parents, and everything he had ever known. Still in shock, he let his mother wrap her arm around him, for the second time that day. His mother didn''t do hugs; she displayed her affection for him in other ways- ruffling his hair, kissing him on the cheek, etc. Hugs just reminded her of the things she wasn¡¯t able to do.


    After letting go, she turned her back on him to hide her tears as Ennis embraced him.


    ¡°I love you son. Don''t ever forget that. You are the reason,¡± he shot a guilty look at Lana, then corrected himself ¡°Actually, one of the two reasons why I''m still here today.¡±


    Corwin could hear his father''s voice break a little bit.


    Ennis released him and stepped back.


    ¡°Corwin, I want you to have these.¡±


    Ennis unstrung the small cloth pouch that hung from his belt, then dug under his pants to pull out a thigh-scabbard. Emptying the pouch and the scabbard he showed both items to his son.


    In his outstretched palms, he held two items; a short double-edged sword, and a small spherical black stone.


    Immediately, Corwin zeroed in on the inscription-marred stone.


    ¡°Is that a...¡±


    Ennis smiled at his son''s astonishment.


    ¡°Yes, that''s a tal stone. But, it''s not an inscription that you have seen before. This inscription grants a harmony ability, instead of actualising an element. That is the weaving of the republic. I suspect, that even though I can''t use your scores, perhaps you might be able to. You already know the activation chord from our training.¡±


    Gingerly accepting the stone that Ennis placed in his hands, Corwin marvelled at the detailed inscription on the small stone. He broke out of his reverence as his dad started explaining the short sword.


    ¡°This is a spatha, standard issue from my country. But it has saved my life more times than I can count. I hope it can save yours as well.¡±


    Ennis sheathed the spatha in the leg belt before passing it over to his son.


    Corwin accepted the strap with tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. The realisation that he was likely never going to see his family again was slowly setting in.


    Lana came in close and kissed her son on the forehead.


    ¡°I''m sorry I don''t have anything like what your father gave to you. Just remember, no matter what happens, don''t focus your anger on the army or the townsfolk who called them onto us. Live your life better than that being consumed by rage. A life of revenge is hardly better than any life at all.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mum¡± he choked out through the free-flowing tears.


    ¡°No Cori, don''t cry. Please, you''ll make me cry,¡±


    His mum already had tears flowing down her cheeks, but he didn''t have the ability nor inclination to correct her. Wrapping one arm around his mum and the other around his dad, he pulled them both in close.


    *??*??*


    None of them knew how long they stayed together like that, quietly sobbing as they tried to forget the imminent future. But eventually, it was Ennis that broke them up.


    ¡°Corwin, it''s time to go.¡±


    Wiping the last of his tears from his eyes name nodded.


    Grabbing his waterskin and the few bare essentials that he could carry from his room, he went back to face his parents.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, Mum. Catch you round, Dad.¡±


    Jaw set, but lips quivering, he walked out into the now dark forest, knife strapped to his leg, a few coins in his pocket, and a spherical black stone in a pouch on his waist.


    Looking back at his house one last time, he steeled his resolve and ran off into the darkness that enveloped him.


    *??*??*


    It was midway through the 3rd day that Corwin left when Lana and Ennis heard footsteps approaching their home.


    Unsure of what to expect, Ennis grabbed a knife from the kitchen and kept it hidden in his backhand as he went to open the door.


    Upon opening the door, the image of a portly, but well-dressed man, greeted them.


    The man did not even try to hide his disgust when he saw who it was that answered the door.


    ¡°Is miss Reagan here?¡± he asked with all the politeness of a man talking to a slug under his foot.


    Joining him at the door, Lata wrapped her arm around her husband. Immediately recognising the man, she smirked- it was Dalton¡¯s father.


    Dalton¡¯s father put on a forced smile when he saw Lana¡¯s arm around Ennis. He started to introduce himself.


    ¡°Hello, Miss Reagan. My name is George, and I¡¯m-¡±


    Lana cut him off.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± she asked him bluntly.


    ¡°I thought I''d do you neighbourly favour,¡± smirked the man.¡°I was sure that you''d like to know that recruiters are in town. They''re mandating that all men and boys of working age are to come down and receive testing.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± remarked Lana, feigning surprise.


    George was surprised at her nonchalance- but continued, mistaking it as a lack of understanding.


    ¡°Miss Regan, unless this foreigner has rubbed off on you in an incredibly profound way, I don''t think there''s a way for you to misunderstand what this means for you. You need to send your ¡­ husband¡­ and child down to the town centre now.¡±


    Lana nearly grabbed the kitchen knife from her husband when the postulating man in front of her made a comment about foreigners. But she forced herself to remain calm.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen Corwin in a while now- have you, Ennis?¡±


    Ennis shook his head with a smile.


    ¡°Perhaps he¡¯s out playing with his friends? I heard that he really enjoyed catching up with your son recently- perhaps we should schedule a family get together soon?¡±


    Previously unsure as to whether they simply didn''t understand or were purposefully misunderstanding, George could now see that they were clearly taunting him and his family.


    Dropping his faux cheery demeanour, he ground his teeth in anger.


    ¡°Oh I think our sons will be seeing a lot more of each other, don¡¯t you worry. I hear everyone grows pretty close to each other in the army. I think I¡¯ll look forward to seeing his testing score in the town centre today.


    ¡°Sadly I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to witness the testing at all. You see, my husband and I have developed this horrible medical condition that prevents us from leaving this household. Terribly sorry, you''ll have to relay that to the army if they ask. Wouldn¡¯t want anyone else catching it.¡±


    Surprised that the couple would dare mock him and the army, George spluttered as he searched for words.


    Deciding that there was nothing snappy he could say to their grinning faces he turned back to the town.


    ¡°They¡¯ll come for you, mark my words. In fact, I will personally make sure they come to test your savage of husband and your foreigner child!¡± he spat, as he walked back the way he came.


    Ennis smiled at his wife. It was nice to be on the spectating side of his wife¡¯s sharp wit for once.


    Together, they went back inside their house.

 Chapter 6: New Lands in Sight

    Morning rays of light coaxed Corwin from his slumber. Blinking a little to recover his bearings, his stomach asserted the need for a quality meal.


    Due to it being the Solar Months, there was plenty of animals to hunt in the forest. This did, unfortunately, mean that there had no salted provisions for him to take.  However, Ennis¡¯ training hadn''t merely been limited to the martial kind- surviving off the land and hunting had been a significant staple as well.


    Plus, when you lived in the forest, it was expected that you at least knew how to forage for food- even if it was just plants.


    Sleep, or at least comfortable sleep, was a luxury that he had sorely missed over the past few days.  His bedding had been made in trees and above ground places. Although the forest was practically free from predators, poisonous bugs and arachnids still patrolled the undergrowth of the forest.


    Not only was sleeping in tree branches incredibly painful, but it was also front row seats to the many nocturnal animals who made it their job to keep him from a restful sleep.


    He knew he was close now.  The trees were thinning- a result of logging.  The port town of Etton was clearly only a short distance away.


    Unfortunately, Corwin didn''t have much of a plan for when he actually arrived in town. The basic idea was that he would find a boat, board it, and then make the crossing to Animar.


    How and where he was going to find said boat was very much still in the planning phase.


    ***


    At around midday, Corwin reached the outskirts of Etton. In comparison to his own town, Etton had a significantly more secure perimeter. A single guardsman stood at the only entrance to the doubleman tall brick wall that surrounded the town.


    Although it was mostly for show- there were occasionally minor dignitaries that visited the town- it still posed a significant obstacle for Corwin.


    The guard wasn¡¯t the issue. He was apparently some villager who had just been appointed to the position- the only armour he wore was a ragged leather shirt with a small shortsword at his hip.


    He might not have been strong enough to overpower an adult yet, but he was reasonably confident in his ability to incapacitate an obviously untrained man with a surprise attack.


    No, the real problem laid in getting into the town without causing a commotion, and then somehow getting into the boat yards without causing the same issue.


    Deciding that a sort of bribery was the easiest route, Corwin removed one of the 3 silvers from his coin pouch. Sticking his finger into his waterskin, he also dabbed a little of the water under both his eyes.


    Approaching the man, he hoped it would be enough. Just in case, he checked the positioning of his thigh sheath, making sure it was in comfortable access range.


    ¡°Um... Sir,¡±


    Surprised, the guard snapped to attention to find a dishevelled teen cowering in front of him.


    ¡°Who are you, and what are you doing here son?¡± the guard asked suspiciously.


    No-one had entered or left during his post- and he certainly would''ve remembered if a child had left during his shift.


    ¡°No-one sir- I¡¯m jus¡¯ lookin¡¯ for me father. ¡®E told me that e¡¯d be at the boats.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Corwin had heard the accent from one of the children from a mercantile caravan that had passed through Weston only 2 years ago. He raised his face to look the guard in the eye.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t find ¡®im. Please, sir- could ye kindly point me in the direction of the boats? I


    ¡®ave a coin fer ye if ye could ¡®elp me out.¡±


    The child offered a silver in his outstretched palms and bowed his head again.


    The poor boy had obviously been crying. There wouldn¡¯t be any harm in letting him in- not especially with the added bonus of the coinage. A silver would be more than he¡¯d make at this post for the entire day¡¯s work! Plus, currying favour with a merchant was never a bad thing.


    The guard gave Corwin a friendly smile as he took the silver from his palms and stepped aside.


    ¡°The docks you be looking for would be down the main street then immediately to the left. Just get to the end of the main street, and you¡¯ll see the water. I hope your father doesn¡¯t punish you too bad for staying out late!¡±


    Still keeping is head down, Corwin nodded his thanks and quickly brushed past the guard. He didn''t think that the guard would run his mouth, but if the recruiters did return to this town searching for a deserter, it wouldn''t take long for him to come forward.


    Job commitment aside, the guard was certainly right about the docks. As he cleared the main street, the sparkling blue of the sea greeted him. Weston was also a seaside town; however, the sea surrounding the town had some particularly nasty rocks and other natural barriers. Thus, taking a quick dip in the sea wasn¡¯t a possibility unless one possessed the ability to harden their skin against the sharp rocks and structures in the water.


    So the simple dock with only a few boats was a marvellous sight to Corwin. Villagers were swimming nearby, and others were simply relaxing on the beach- each of them with baskets full to the brim of treats he¡¯d never seen before.


    Here was the hard part. His ragged clothing might''ve helped him enter the town, but there was no way that he could convince the ship guards that he was a merchant child without some identification.


    He had 2 silvers left- hopefully he could convince a guard with one of the coins, leaving the other for something to bargain with when he reached the mainland.


    Staying as out of sight as he could, he approached a lone guard blocking the way to a plank leading its way onto one of the vessels; the ¡®Lady of Redemption¡¯.


    This guard clearly belonged to the merchants, as indicated by the sparkles that shined off his chainmail vest and iron helmet. Unlike the previous guard, this man looked like he knew how to use that weapon.


    ¡°Excuse me, sir?¡±


    The man looked down at Corwin without any kindness in his eyes, and simply grunted, which he took for a sign to go on.


    Not knowing the proper way to bribe someone, he decided to be frank.


    ¡°I need to leave this island. And I wouldn¡¯t exactly like people to know that I have. Would you perhaps know of a way to get me on this boat?¡±


    Hearing this, the guard smirked.  Giving a pointed look at the pouch hanging of Corwin¡¯s belt, he beckoned slowly with his hand.


    Withdrawing one of the silvers from his pouch, he glanced up to see the guard¡¯s smirk widen- and realised he¡¯d made a stupid mistake. The man had heard the clink of the other coin.


    Sure enough, when he placed the silver into the man¡¯s outstretched hand, the man shook his head and beckoned again.


    Cursing himself for being so obvious, he tipped his pouch upside-down onto the guard¡¯s palm. He was lucky he¡¯d hidden the pouch containing his father¡¯s tal under his clothes.


    Finally, the man spoke.


    ¡°Get going. I didn¡¯t see you, and you didn¡¯t see me.¡±


    Nodding, Corwin quickly made his way past the guard, up the plank, and onto the ship.


    It was time to leave Solum.


    *??*??*


    Reliqua, Western Realm, Animar.


    Temple of Viggar


    The High Priest barely grunted as he pierced his eardrums. His followers were watching- It would be improper. And signs of weakness, under Viggar, were something to be persecuted.


    Removing the knife splashed drops of blood over the tiled floor. Everyone watching held their breath- this was the last moment that the high priest could reverse his decision.


    Triumphantly, the High Priest raised the knife proudly above his head and roared.


    Blood was spilt. The crusade would begin. The crowd whipped themselves into a frenzy with chants of the goddess¡¯ name echoing around the room.


    The man leaning against the temple wall smiled to himself and left the believers to their festivities. Although it hadn¡¯t been in the way they had planned, he had accomplished his goal.


    Blood would be spilt either way.

 Chapter 7: A Troubled Start

    When it was time to descend from the Lady of Redemption, he was not alone. It turned out that he was not the only one who wanted to leave Solum. Most wanted to escape the army, as he did, but others were on board to make a better life for themselves over on the main continent.


    Although all the stowaways were kept in extremely close quarters over the 2 days that they were together, there was no shared sense of comradery. There were small rations of food provided in their hideaway - which shared evenly enough- but the glint in some of their eyes convinced Corin that if they saw a clear chance at extra provisions and trinkets, they likely wouldn''t turn it down.


    Thus he was under no illusions that when the signal to disembark came they would go their separate ways- perhaps not without ¡®convincing¡¯ their fellow stowaways to ¡®share¡¯.


    Clutching his pouch containing the tal, and keeping his spatha in easy reach, Corwin slept lightly.


    He had felt more at ease in the forest.


    *??*??*


    When the rolling of the ship started to abate, the illegal occupants knew that the ship was close to completing its journey. Pretending to casually stand, all the inhabitants readied themselves for their escape.


    It was a few hours after the ship had moored that a sharp series of knocks sounded on the entrance to their inhabitancy. Quickly, the man closest to the door yanked it open and ran out- followed by the rest of the ragtag bunch.


    It was dark now- providing the group, theoretically, with ample coverage. Unfortunately, the outcome was entirely different.


    The first few escapees had only set foot on their promised land for a few seconds before they were apprehended. The guards that had been lying in wait behind the storage crates on the dock quickly revealed themselves and wasted no time capturing the fleeing men and women.


    Seeing this, Corwin quickly darted off along the docks, in what he hoped was the opposite direction to his other escapees- and pursuers.


    But his hopes were quickly dashed when he heard the heavy footfalls hot on the trail behind him.


    Redoubling his efforts, he quickly threw himself into a doorway that lay open in his path.


    The doorway led to a storage area for shipments, mostly kept in crates and wooden storage containers. Although there was no exit in sight, it did provide for ample coverage.


    Amongst his father¡¯s teachings, his father had emphasised the importance of using the entire environment to his advantage. The forest had its cover in the form of trees- and the ground was littered with items that all could be taken advantage of. Here, storage containers provided cover, and there was sure to be items left around by the dock workers could be useful.


    Pausing to catch his breath behind a particularly large container, Corwin considered his action plan. He did have his spatha- but with no formal training or practice, he felt that he would be much more effective with his bare hands. He didn¡¯t have any ignition devices with him, and there was no easy access to fire or water nearby- not in the warehouse at least.


    He did have his tal- but he was still unsure of its effects. Corwin had been thinking about what his father had said when he had given it to him;


    You already know the activation chord from our training.


    He at least had an idea about the method to activating it- when they had practised meditation together, his father had made him harmonise specific notes with him, and hold more than one together in his head at once. That had to be the ¡®activation chord¡¯ that he was talking about.


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    But as to its effects, he hadn¡¯t had the time or the energy to have tried it out during his trek through the woods. And, obviously, couldn''t have let his fellow stowaways see such a precious item.


    It was worth possibly keeping as a last resort- perhaps it created some sort of effect - no, what had his father called it? A ¡®harmony ability¡¯. Maybe it would give him a boost that would allow him an edge?


    The guard, only a few seconds behind Corwin, quickly entered the warehouse. Seeing no visible sign of his target, he slowed down and pulled the sword from his waist.


    ¡°Come on kid, we both know how this is going to go,¡±


    The guard¡¯s voice echoed around the warehouse. It was met with no response.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to have to hurt you- But I will if you don¡¯t come quietly.¡±


    The guard was nearing Corwin now, only a few aisles away from his location. Tensing up, he readied himself.


    The guard tried one last time to reason with his target.


    ¡°All we want to do is deport you back- why risk injury when all that faces you is a shipment back to where you came from?¡±


    With that, Corwin struck.


    Covering the short distance between them with a leap, he transitioned into a leg sweep- catching the man off-guard and sending him tumbling to the floor.


    Quickly, Corwin mounted the man across the waist and started raining down blows on his body. But the man was good- his forearms immediately came up to protect his face.


    Sensing the futility of his blows- the only unarmoured places were the man¡¯s throat and head, which were completely protected by his arms- he unmounted the guard, grabbing his arm, and transitioned into an arm bar.


    His body wrapped around the man¡¯s arm, he squeezed his legs and pulled the man¡¯s wrist, attempting to dislocate his shoulder. But, immediately, he realised his mistake.


    The guard was far and away out of his weight class.


    Even straining as Corwin was, the man slowly managed to flex his biceps- partially lifting him into the air- then slammed him back down into the ground, stunning Corwin.


    With Corwin¡¯s grip now loosened, the guard escaped the arm bar and made it to his feet.


    Still a little dazed, Corwin struggled back onto his feet. Instead of taking advantage of his glaring weakness, the guard simply waited for him to get to his feet.


    ¡°Where did you learn that, kid?¡±


    The man¡¯s question caught Corwin off-guard. Although wary that the guard might have been trying to distract him, he responded.


    ¡°My father¡­ Why did you want to know?¡±


    The man seemed surprised.


    ¡°So he must¡¯ve come from-¡±


    Too late, Corwin recognised what the guard was getting at- that his father wasn¡¯t of the Republic! There was no way he would only get deported after being on the side of the enemy!


    Now sure that he couldn¡¯t beat the man with his physical abilities, he reached into his pouch to grab his last resort; his father¡¯s tal.


    Gripping the talem stone fiercely, he focused on the chord that he had practised with his father in their training session.


    Unlike in the ceremony, where he had to learn the activation melody, Ennis had drilled this harmony into him over their 3 years of training. Thus, Corwin felt the connection snap into place instantly.


    If the guard was surprised at Corwin¡¯s admission before, he was downright spellbound as the child in front of him seemed to split into two mirror-image copies.


    Corwin was also shocked at the effect of the tal, as he looked to his right to find his own face staring right back at him. But, he couldn¡¯t afford to be distracted- he knew that he had a time limit.


    Breaking into a full-on sprint, he ran straight at the guard.


    Now faced with two charging opponents, there the guard hesitated.


    And that was all that Corwin needed.


    Twisting to the left, he dodged around the guard as his copy did the same to the opposite side.


    The exit was only a few bodylengths away now- but just as he passed the guide, he felt his connection to the tal snap out of existence, and with it, his double.


    But he couldn¡¯t slow down now, not now, when the exit was so close. Without turning back, he put his head down and pumped his legs harder.


    And that¡¯s when he felt the thick ropes wrap around his legs.


    The bolas- thrown by the guard behind him- tangled itself around him, his momentum throwing him to the floor.


    It was over. And he had been so close, so close to that exit.


    Crouching down next to the Corwin the guard roughly grabbed his chin and forced him to look into his eyes.


    ¡°Kid, you didn¡¯t let me finish. I¡¯m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you¡¯re not a thief.¡±


    ¡°Wait-  what? Why would-¡±


    ¡°Shut up. We have little time, so save it. Oh- And I¡¯m sorry about what¡¯s coming. I won¡¯t be able to explain your presence otherwise.¡±


    Corwin only had a few seconds to wonder what he was talking about, until he felt a sharp pain, and then nothing.


    * ?? *??  *


    Triticum, Western Realm, Animar


    Temple of Fundur


    Though the tears openly flowed down her face, the High Priestess resolutely held the dagger aloft. Many of her followers mirrored her expression.


    As the knife pierced her eardrums, she cried out. However, the High Priestess cried not for the pain that she had to endure, but for the pain that was to come.


    War.


    A Religious war.


    Letting the bloodied dagger clatter to the floor, she allowed the senior acolytes to come forward with bandages.


    She could no longer hear the sounds of her own weeping.


    All she felt was the tears falling down her face, dropping to the floor, snuffed out forever.

 Chapter 8: The Dragons Tail Mercenaries

    Corwin awoke to the terrifying sight of a large, hairy man staring him dead in the eyes.


    Seeing him awake, and in shock, the hairy man threw his head back and chortled.


    ¡°Ay Keen, it seems yer ¡®prisoner¡¯ ain¡¯t as tough as you made us believe!¡±


    ¡°Heck, ¡®e looks about as tough as Nigel¡¯s fancy fookin¡¯ hanky!¡± replied a scar-faced man nearby.


    This set off a round of cackling laughter throughout the camp. Now fully awake, Corwin tried to take in as much detail as he could. It seemed like he was in the custody of these large men, in their campsite no less.


    After the laughter had subsided, another man, evidently Nigel, piped up.


    ¡°Yeah, give it to a scar-faced bastard like yourself to not understand the finer points of wooing the womanfolk. It¡¯s called being a gentlyman,¡±


    ¡°Yer a rot, Nigel! I may not have a way with the fairer sex, but I have enough of a way with words to know that it¡¯s gentleman!¡±


    Again, the teasing set off another round of laughs, mostly aimed at Nigel. He looked angry at first, but soon saw the funny side, and joined in on the merriment.


    Corwin returned his focus to the situation at hand. Surprisingly, it seemed that he still had his spatha in the leg sheath, and the weight in his pouch seemed to indicate his also retained possession of his tal. However, his wrists were bound behind his back.


    Finally, one of the group made his way over to Corwin- one that he recognised. It was the guard he had fought at the docks! Did he want revenge? Was that why he was tied up and left in the middle of the camp?


    Seeing Corwin''s obvious alarm, the man tried to smile calmingly.


    "Hey, don''t worry. We haven¡¯t got you here to hurt you- nor are we going to have you over to anyone. We ain¡¯t anything like the guards- are we, boys!?"


    A rowdy cheer arose from the men at that proclamation.


    That left Corwin confused. Who were these men, then? Why would they have even bothered to-were these men slavers?!


    Seeing that his explanation had only brought Corwin more confusion, he sighed and sat down on a box of provisions nearby.


    "Kid, I admire your quick mind, but I think you''re going at it too fast. We ain¡¯t anything more than mercenaries. Our contract was to that trading company that brought you over here- just to catch all the stowaways and send ¡®em right back where they came from. I think they get a juicy reward from the local authorities for sending ¡®mysteriosly escaped migrants¡¯ back to Solum. "


    Corwin snorted at that. Of course. They would take the bribe money given to them by the stowaways, and then receive the reward from the guards for ridding them of their migrants. Playing both sides to get all the money.


    "Yeah, realising you got duped now? Don''t feel too bad about it; everyone falls for it. We''ve been doing this for years- or at least whenever we¡¯re in town."


    Finally, Corwin worked up the courage to speak out.


    "So what exactly am I here for? Why haven''t I been sent back like the others?"


    Winking at Corwin, the man answered.


    "Why, it''s because I saw some real potential in you, kid! Didn''t hurt that you also asked for a job."


    The wink clearly meant something, but for the life of him, Corwin couldn''t think of what it could mean. Puzzled, he started to ask the man to clarify but was stopped with a hasty hand over his mouth.


    "Oh, you need to take a whiz? Here, let me show you where we''ve set it out."


    Yanking Corwin to his feet, he pulled a dagger from his belt and cut the binds wrapping his hand.


    "Oy! You even need to teach this kid how to shite? What sort of prospects are we talking about here Keen- the ability to clean up after a dump?"


    "Orin, I seem to remember that on your first day you spilled the cook''s meal- and he gave you such a whoopin'' that you couldn''t sit down for the rest of the day! Everyone''s got a day, heck, a week where they¡¯re allowed to play the newbie." The man, obviously Keen, shouted back as he put a hand on Corwin''s back and gently led him out of camp.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Once they were out of earshot of the camp, he turned and addressed Corwin.


    ¡°Kid- Hold up, I can¡¯t keep calling you kid. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Uh... Corwin.¡±


    ¡°Right. You probably heard back there, my name is Keenan- call me Keen though. But, more importantly- holy heck kid! What did your parents teach you about your heritage?! More specifically, what did they tell you about keeping it a damn secret!¡±


    Now he could see where Keen was going with this.


    He obviously thought that Corwin was a child of The Alliance. Well, there wasn¡¯t exactly any good reason as to why he should dissuade him of the belief. In addition, he didn¡¯t know precisely how mixed-race children were viewed- but seeing the tension between the two countries didn¡¯t inspire any hope for a good perception.


    Thinking quickly, he came up with a plausible background.


    "My dad¡­ He passed away only a week ago. I never knew my mum¡­" He muttered, keeping his head down- and eyes away from Keen.


    He had an uneasy feeling that if Keen got even the slightest hint, he''d figure it all out.


    "That''s shite, Corwin. But as shite as it is, you can''t just be parading your nationality around! If not for yourself, do for the rest of us that are here! Having these folks know that we are among them, even if it''s completely by the book, makes folks a little uneasy."


    He should¡¯ve guessed it from the moment that he started talking about heritage. Keen was clearly from the alliance.


    Incorrectly interpreting his look as Corwin understanding his point, Keen pressed for more information.


    "What sort of household where you brought up in, but didn''t tell you to hide your identity, lad? Where did you grow up?"


    Deciding that it was best to keep some semblance of the truth, he answered faithfully.


    "I was brought up believing that I was from the Republic- dad didn''t want me facing any more danger than was necessary. He told me just before he died, and now I''m on the run from the Army recruiters."


    "Yer dad was a wise one, then. No sense in needlessly exposing you to the truth before you could do anything about it,"


    Finding a conveniently sized stone, he gestured for Corwin to sit down.


    "So, I gather that you know almost nothing about who you actually are," he surmised with a sigh.


    "Apart from that I''m not from The Alliance, that''s probably right."


    "Well, your dad hasn''t completely left your education to the wayside-you have some mean skills, don''t get me wrong, but I suspect that your martial capabilities are all that you have. Would I be correct in saying that?"


    It wasn''t quite that way, after all, he could use Republic weaving- if only for about 5 seconds. But again, although the man seemed to want to help him, he didn¡¯t think it was the smartest move to put all his cards on the table just yet.


    "He did teach me how to use the Tal Stone, but I haven''t quite figured out how to use it," he answered truthfully.


    "I was just about to go into that! Hold your horses, lad! I don''t count your Tal as your own power- as powerful as it seems to be. I don''t suppose your daddy told you which school or sect you belong to?"


    Seeing Corwin''s head shaking, he groaned and continued.


    "Of course he didn''t, that would be too easy, wouldn''t it, lad. Damn it all to ¡®Rix!¡± Shaking his head, he muttered to himself.


    Corwin let him work it all out, having no idea as to what Keen was talking about.


    ¡°Alright, Corwin. I¡¯m going to offer you a choice- a choice, because you¡¯re a fellow Alliance member, stuck here on this continent.¡± He looked seriously at Corwin to make sure that the weight of this decision wasn¡¯t to be taken lightly.


    Corwin nodded to show he was paying attention.


    ¡°I can give you some provisions and hand you off at the next town on our journey- with a recommendation for work in a tavern of sorts. I know the innkeeper, and he¡¯ll look after you.¡±


    He paused to let that sink in before continuing.


    ¡°Or, you can become my disciple of sorts. I certainly don¡¯t have the qualifications to teach your unique sect¡¯s skills, but I know enough to give you some additional survival capability. Not to mention, I can teach you about our country¡¯s history and legacy. But if you take this option, there¡¯s no leaving this mercenary group, at least until I deem you practised enough.¡±


    There was no question which was the right option. It was a choice between living a quiet life- until someone else found out about his ¡®disability¡¯, or strengthing himself for the future. Corwin didn¡¯t have any specific goal for the future, but he knew that an uneasy settling down wasn¡¯t on the agenda.


    ¡°This disciple greets his master¡± he respectfully accepted, bowing.


    ¡°Although I may not be a perfect master, I will be treated with all the respect that this position affords. Not because I fancy being treated with respect, mind you, but because if you ever visit The Alliance and take a real master there, well¡­¡±


    Keen groaned, recalling a painful memory. Corwin stifled the urge to laugh. He had a feeling that Keen wasn¡¯t the model student that his master wanted him to be.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say that stepping even a toe over the line will result in harsh an unproportionate punishment.¡±


    Breaking out of his recallings with a shiver, Keen refocused back to Corwin.


    ¡°Lad, we have to get our stories straight now. I¡¯ve told the other boys that you came up to me and asked for a job, after seeing me catch some of the stowaways. Can you run with that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll have a problem with that,¡±


    ¡°Great- Now you¡¯re going to catch some ribbing from the other guys. It¡¯s kind of their new initiate ¡®welcoming¡¯ that they do - just roll with it. I think that some of them think its a way to make friends, actually.¡±


    He shook his head.


    ¡°Do what the important people ask of you- and by that, I mean only the cook, the head, and nobody else. Tell the rest of them to stuff it when they ask you to do things; otherwise, you¡¯ll be stuck as a gofer for the foreseeable future. You ain¡¯t going to be paid until you prove your worth at a task, but food and camp will be provided if you pull your weight around camp. Welcome to the Dragon¡¯s Tail Mercenary Group, lad.¡±


    Keen turned offered him a hand, then pulled Corwin to his feet.


    Together they walked back to camp, Keen humming a tune, and Corwin trailing behind, trying to make sense of the massive change his life¡¯s path had just taken.

 Chapter 9: The Assignment

    The first few days with the mercenary company saw Corwin completing all manner of tasks. Although Keen had specifically warned Corwin not to listen to the other mercenary''s, besides those in power, he found it very hard to refuse their requests.


    But it was not until the fourth day after he had woken up at the camp that they found his true calling: plucking chickens. Or more specifically, helping in the preparations for the chef.


    Used to it, from his background in the forest, he was already quite skilled in the art of preparing basic dishes, as well as preparing raw meat such as fish and birds.


    His position afforded him a lot of respect and power, which Corwin found quite surprising. He was used to the taunting and teasing when it was inevitably revealed that he helped his mother cook dinner in Weston.


    However, it seemed these men appreciated the value of good food. When he had asked about why there were so pleased that he had these skills, they had all shivered and said one word: Scully.


    After a little bit of further prodding, the story came together. ¡®Scully¡¯ referred to the scar faced mercenary that had been involved in the bantering upon Corwin''s awakening. Scully, when delegated the role of cooking preparation, had somehow managed to spoil, or otherwise ruin, every single dish that had been fed to the others that night.


    Since then, there had been an abundance of people willing to trade roles Scully whenever his duty was rostered to be preparation chef.


    It wasn''t a very popular job at all, and thus, Corwin was permanently placed in the role of preparation chef- which he didn''t mind at all.


    For one, he was already used to helping out at dinner back in Solum. And two, it allowed him a lot of personal freedom and spare time around camp which could be used for training with Keen.


    Training, that was simultaneously inspiring feelings of frustration, pain, and anger, and only the slightest bit of hope.


    ***


    Not for the first time, Corwin recoiled as the b¨­ painfully struck his wrist, knocking the training sword to the ground once again.


    Keen didn¡¯t say anything this time.


    Corwin ground his teeth and retrieved the wooden sword before settling back into the stance he had been taught.


    Without any indication to start the bout, Keen lunged out with the b¨­.


    The swipe came wide to the right side, at hip height. Corwin had learnt after the first few bouts that trying to block or take the hit only ended in him lying on the ground. So instead of blocking, he kicked back off the ground to make space between them.


    ¡°Distance against a staff user?¡± Came Keen¡¯s frustratingly calm question.


    Fighting the urge to growl back at him, Corwin warily returned into the b¨­¡¯s range.


    Deciding to take the initiative this time, he charged forward, aiming to get in close before he could be hit with any of Keen¡¯s sweeping blows.


    Predictably, Keane was ready for this move, and had already shifted his grip on the staff.


    Angling his training blade, he altered the trajectory of the incoming downwards swipe with a strike of the blade, and continued circular momentum- transitioning into a turning kick aimed at Keen''s hips.


    Stepping back, Keen brought his staff into a vertical guard to protect himself from Corwin''s kick and was rewarded with a yelp of pain when the collision between instead and shin occurred.


    Clearly seeing the anger in his pupil''s eyes, he sighed and placed the staff on the ground, motioning for Corwin to stretch out his leg on the ground.


    "You haven''t taught me anything!" Angrily accused Corwin. "All I''ve learnt is that you have an obvious desire to show off and inflict pain!"


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    Keane waited for his student to calm down, and said nothing as he placed his open palms over the already swelling shin. Sensing that his student''s tirade had halted, he tried to answer the furious accusations.


    "But you can tell me what I''m doing, can''t you?" he rebutted, slowly. "You know that I''m using my sect''s weaving to increase the natural healing speed of your wounds. And you also know the sect that you belong to."


    The twitch of his pupil''s expression told him that his pointed been made, but was not enough to quell the anger.


    "I can''t teach you how to improve your hand-to-hand capabilities-I don''t know the style that you were taught. But I do know that you will be facing opponents who aren''t going to respect your desire to fight hand-to-hand."


    "Yeah, I''m not obtuse, I can understand that I''m not going to be fighting unarmed opponents the majority of the time- my main problem is the fact that you''re fighting my sword with a staff! And not even holding back! Do you really have to hit me every single time I''ve been disarmed?"


    "You''re never going to get a fair fight, that''s just how it goes. And if you even think to fight fair with your opponent, I''d whack you over the head as well! Fighting, unless it''s in a sanctioned duel, is never an occasion for you to exercise fairness. You either win and learn, or lose and you don''t learn anything else."


    Corwin let out an annoyed snort and turned his head away from Keen.


    Again, Keen sighed. He placed a hand on Corwin''s shoulder.


    "Look, I can''t teach you like a proper master. My teacher called it subtlety, I called the flourishing, but whatever it is, I don''t got it. I can only teach you the quick and dirty tricks- and how to not flip your shit when you start to face opponents with exotic and unusual weapons in their hands."


    Corwin shrugged off the hand from his shoulder.


    "But do you really have to hit me when I''ve clearly lost?!"


    "Kid, you need to learn that losing has consequences, otherwise you start to get lax. It''s much better to develop a hatred of getting hit rather than an acceptance of a loss."


    Corwin remained facing away from Keen.


    "It''s only been a few days, Corwin. You don''t get better in that time- it''s the long-term that counts. But let''s finish up here, the boss has something to announce back at camp."


    That got Corwin''s attention. He''d heard all the men talk about the boss, but he''d assumed that the man wasn''t with them at present.


    Grudgingly, he stood and followed Keen back to camp.


    * * *


    When they got there, the mercenaries were already seated, facing a roaring campfire.


    The two quickly found a spot near to Scully and Nigel, and sat down facing the fire. Despite the teasing that Corwin had witnessed on the first day, he had quickly discovered that they were actually very close mates.


    "Oy newbie! Why ain''t dinner ready? We been waiting here for ages!" complained Scully, with a grin on his scarred face.


    Nigel joined in.


    ¡°He¡¯s right, I feel like I¡¯m going to starve, kid! We¡¯ve been all sitting down here, waiting on you for so long!¡±


    Corwin blushed furiously and rose off the ground to go find the cook, but was stopped by Keen placing a hand on his back.


    This, of course, sent the duo into peels of laughter. Corwin gave an awkward smile and tried to see the funny side, but in truth, he was embarrassed that he had fallen for it. He just didn¡¯t know the pair well enough to see through their jokes yet.


    ¡°Have you got¡­ some relation to a tomato¡­ newbie?¡± wheezed out Scully, through fits of laughter.


    ¡°His face! I¡¯ve never seen someone get so red!¡± laughed Nigel.


    Corwin opened his mouth to respond to the pair of immature fools, but abruptly closed it when the light from the fire flickered.


    In front of the fire now stood what appeared to be a man in dishevelled clothing. He had a peg leg and wore a long thin sword in a sheath on his waist. The wide hat he wore, in combination with the darkness, obscured all his facial features except for the ragged beard.


    And he wasn¡¯t the only one to notice that someone now stood in front of them all. Quickly, and more amazingly, the rowdy bunch of mercenaries went silent with no prompting at all. Even Scully and Nigel, who- only a moment ago- had been convulsing in laughter, respectfully waited for the boss to speak.


    And when he spoke, the depth in his tone was met with complete silence.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got our assignment. Tomorrow, we return to the road. Drink and be merry tonight, for the days coming will be tough. Tomorrow, we guard the roads to the capital!¡±


    The crowd rose to their feet as one and erupted into furious cheers and yells. Taken by surprise, Corwin quickly rose with them, but when he found a gap in the throng of bodies, he saw the boss no longer.


    Keen noticed his searching and bent down to speak into his ears amidst the cheers.


    ¡°That¡¯s just how he is- and take it from me, that was a lot of words from the boss. He demands respect, but requires only little of it. Stay on his good side and you¡¯ll be right as rain. But one foot out o¡¯ line, and you better be able to stand on your remaining foot- cos it¡¯s the only one you¡¯ll have.¡±


    That peg-legged man was dangerous? The only indication that he could even fight was in the sword hanging by his waist, and if he hadn¡¯t been told by Keen, he¡¯d think it was merely a prop.


    Keen smiled as he saw the kid reshaping his perceptions of the boss. The boy was good at hand-to-hand, actually far superior to good, but he still had much to learn about fighting. Why the boy¡¯s father had never properly taught him weaving was still mostly a mystery to him. He had pretended to accept the kid¡¯s explanation, but only because it was clear that he didn¡¯t want to talk about it.


    After all, he hadn¡¯t even offered an explanation as to why he was in the Republic either, so how could he expect the boy to trust him?


    ***


    Mid-Way Between Triticum and Requila, Western Realm, Animar


    The Pathfinder¡¯s Bridge


    Bodies lay strewn across the rocky ground- on both sides of the river. There was no formality to this war, there was no collecting of the bodies. This wasn¡¯t because neither side had the time or inclination, instead, it was the fact that both of them had access to long distance area of effect weaving.


    The few bodies that lay strewn across the bridge were a testament to the furthest that either side had advanced.


    And so those that remained watched in the trees, plotting, planning their next move.


    But supplies were scarce now, and both sides knew it. It was only a matter of time before the last resort option was used.

 Chapter 10: Merchants and Duels

    Corwin had thought that he was used to living in the wilderness. However, it turned out that living in said wilderness was much more comfortable when one had a cabin roof over their head. It may have also helped that he didn¡¯t have to share a sleeping area with a large group of rowdy mercenaries.


    Luckily, due to his job promotion to preparations chef, his sleeping arrangement was moved to be closer to the river so he could quickly clean himself before attending his duties. However, with this new tent, came new roommates. His new tent-mates were a pair of sisters, who absolutely terrified him in all the worst ways possible.


    Their names were Erina and Kari, and even though they were a full 8 or so years older than him, they had decided that teasing him was the most mature and productive use of their time. Kari had long, black hair which she kept in a tight braid. Tall and lithe, she seldom spoke, preferring to communicate only when necessary.  Her counterpart, Erina, was almost the complete opposite in terms of personality. Never afraid to have her say or offend anyone, she spoke more than enough for the pair of them. Red haired, and a head shorter than her sister, she was the reason, at least he believed, that his teasing had begun.


    For one, like all the mercenaries in the camp, they seemed to lack a sense of shame. It wasn¡¯t uncommon to see a whole bunch of them, men and women, bathing together in the river. When he had tried to find a private space to change his clothes and bathe, he had been sorely disappointed to find that privacy was very much lacking in the camp. Upon noticing his search for privacy, Erina hadn¡¯t stopped teasing him about his embarrassment at bathing with others, mocking him constantly by asking if he wanted them to section off a piece of the river, or to give him a private changing tent. Kari didn¡¯t comment, but would play along with Erina when she dramatically turned away to ¡®give him space to change¡¯.


    However, they hadn¡¯t gained the prized riverside accommodation by means of their teasing or looks. Although women were far in the minority for the mercenary make-up, they were far from the only women at the camp- or for that matter the prettiest. Much more important than that, they were the group¡¯s stealth and scouting leaders. They had been relatively tight-lipped about their particular role in the company when Corwin had taken the chance to ask them, but from what he could gather from Scully and Nigel, the two were the go-to members when covert infiltrations were required.


    Unfortunately, although Corwin suspected that it might have been by design, this had led to him paying the price for underestimating their combat abilities.


    Seeing him wake up early one morning to complete Keane¡¯s daily warm-up requirements, Kari had asked if he would mind her joining him. After seeing her efforts keep pace with him in their laps around camp, he had fallen further into the belief that all her skills lay in the area of scouting and legwork. Oh, how wrong he had been.


    After arriving back in front of their tent mildly out of breath (and she looking like all they had done was stroll leisurely around the camp), Kari had suggested they cool down with a light spar. Feeling confident in his abilities, Corwin had accepted without a second thought.


    Only seconds later, he was on the ground, disarmed, and thoroughly in fear of his tentmates¡¯ deadly speed and precision with her daggers. She had obviously told Erina about the whole ordeal, and from that day on, the two had taken it in turns to jog around camp, then duel with him.


    In the few days he had been in their tent, he had yet to beat either one of them even once. He had managed to get a few strikes on Erina, but the only reason for that was that she seemed to fight by the maxim ¡°give flesh, break bone¡±. Though his fights with Erina lasted a lot longer than his fights with Kora, it was her fights that ended in him having to visit Keane for a patch up the most.


    It seemed, that for all his combat prowess, Keen¡¯s role in the group was as the healer. Surprised that he had shown his non-republican weaving to his fellow mercenaries, upon asking, Corwin had found out that Keane wasn¡¯t the only non-Republican member of the company. They were immigrants from  who had, for one reason or another, sailed from their homeland to the neutral country of Coaevi, and then applied for citizenship in Animar.


    The Republic, Keen had told him, gave all the migrants extensive questioning on their real purpose for moving to the Republic. It was only after they were satisfied that they weren¡¯t letting spies or ¡®undedirables¡¯ into their country that they gave him a special licence to liver here. But it wasn¡¯t as simple as that, Keane was required to meet with city officials at a designated time every few months to perform a routine ¡®check-up¡¯ and to see if he had kept his record clean. Not to mention the overt and blatant bias and barely concealed disgust that the Republican public showed when they knew of his identity. That was why, he, like the rest of the Alliance migrants, had joined the travelling company that welcomed them all, regardless of their beginnings. They still preferred to keep their past a secret from outsiders, but it was no secret between the company members.


    Illegals were a different matter though. If Corwin was found to be able to use Alliance style weaving, and without any license, then he would be seized by the guard immediately, under suspicion of espionage.


    ***


    The day after the meeting started very differently to usual. Instead of being one of the only people up when he awoke for his morning workout, Corwin was surprised to find that the camp was buzzing with activity. People were packing up tents, gathering supplies, and equipping themselves with armour and weapons.


    As Corwin was still marvelling at the level of activity, Scully took that moment to pass by.


    "Ya better get ready kid, the boss didn''t kid around when he said we leaving at the crack of dawn! And you ain''t gonna have a chance to re-equip or redo your armour or packing on the way- at least until we make camp. Prepare yourself for a rough few days, kid- you''re expected to be on guard at all times- and you are probably going to have to take a night watch at least once or twice during the trip,"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Luckily, Corwin didn''t have much to pack, as all that he owned was packed into the sack he took with him from his parents house. Not to mention, he didn''t currently own any armour.


    "Don''t stress, I nearly shut me pants on me first expedition as well," reminisced Scully, taking Corwin''s hesitation to be anxiousness. "It''s fairly straightforward, and a large part we don''t see that much action-the hardest enemy we fight is boredom!" He broke into a cackling laughter at that.


    "Thanks for the advice, Scully. Maybe I can help with the entertainment this time round," Corwin joked.


    "Ye might provide more entertainment than ye realise, I''ve heard about your morning bouts. Some of me mates have started up a betting pool, actually. I''m thinking of starting a wager myself, so ya better start improving for my sake!"


    Corwin joined in with Scully''s laughter. He could see how it would be funny to watch the newest member of the group get viciously beat down, especially when he underestimated his opponent.


    "Wait, does that mean that there are people who are rooting for my victory?"


    "Naw, they just bet on how long you''ll last! I think the latest was a little over a few minutes!"


    At that, Scully left him to get his affairs in order, cackling all the more harder as he passed. With a small smile on his face, Corwin re-entered the tent and started to read himself for the journey.


    ***


    Only a few hours into the job, Corwin could absolutely see why the boredom could drive the mercenaries insane. They have been sitting in the back of the wagon for the past few hours, with nothing to do but watch the scenery slowly receded into the distance.


    Luckily, or unluckily, Keene was in the same wagon-and he made sure that Corwin, although still bored, had things to do.


    For almost the fifth time they had sat down in the wagon, Keene quizzed him on all the information that was, according to him,  ''necessary to know''.


    ¡°Tell me what sects are, and what are their weaving specialities are¡±


    ¡°Do we really have to go through this again? I¡¯ve told you almost 3 times already!¡±


    ¡°Corwin. This knowledge might save your life one day. And who knows, maybe you¡¯ll visit your homeland one day?¡±


    Corwin groaned and rolled his eyes. For one, it wasn¡¯t exactly his homeland¡­


    ¡°Fat chance of that happening! Tensions are already high enough that The Republic feels it necessary to recruit people ¡®just in case¡¯ of a war. A leisurely vacation over in a potentially enemy country doesn¡¯t sound like a relaxing break to me!¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s exactly why it might save your life one day- if you ever have to fight a member of The Alliance, you¡¯re going to hope you know exactly what their capabilities are!¡±


    Although agonising, Corwin could see Keane¡¯s point. Obliging, he started to repeat what he had been taught about weaving in the Alliance.


    There were 3 types of weaving in The Alliance; however, it wasn¡¯t categorised like so. The ¡®schools¡¯ were separated into three ¡®sects¡¯, each teaching a singular style.


    There was the ¡®internal¡¯ school, which focused on using weaving to supplement their martial arts, empowering their strength or steeling their defence. This was the sect that Keane belonged to. Healing, or more accurately speeding up natural bodily restoration, was a more abstract n of the internal sect.


    Secondly, there was the ''imbued'' school. They primarily used weapons of all types- blades, ranged, blunted weapons, ect- and strengthened them with their weaving. Due to the vast variety of weapons, the weaving is consequently very individualistic and could differ widely from practitioner to practitioner.


    Finally, there was the subtlety school, the school which Corwin''s father would have belonged to. This sect, like their teachings, was shrouded in mystery. Generally used as assassins, practitioners utilised a wide variety of skills and abilities to confuse, trick, or manipulate their opponents.


    Corwin finished with a sigh.


    "All right! Are you satisfied now?!"


    "Very. But that''s not gonna stop me from quizzing you tomorrow, just to make sure you''ve completely understood it."


    Corwin growled in frustration as the men listening on in the wagon laughed alongside Keane.


    ****


    A little past lunchtime, the mercenaries finally met with their employees.


    The merchant trade group had three caravans, which were clearly full to the brim with cargo. Upon noticing their presence, they had sent over a representative to fetch the boss.


    As the boss went over to the merchants to finalise the contract, the dragon''s tail group took the opportunity to stretch their legs and relieve themselves.


    Corwin took his cue from the others, stretching languidly as he massaged the aches on his backside resulting from the hardwood floor.


    "Hey! We didn''t get a chance to fight this morning. Wanna make up for it now?"


    Even without turning around, he knew that it was Erina who was behind him.


    "Are you sure you want to do this, in front of the others- not to mention the traders?" He didn''t mind fighting in front of the other mercenaries, but the merchants were also looking on in curiosity. Corwin didn''t want to be the one to ruin their first impressions.


    "Nah, are you kidding me? These guys lap it up-they even told me that there''s a betting pool on the way over here. I sure as shit wanna get in on that!"


    She cast a dismissive glance over at the merchant''s caravans.


    "Those old stuffies can shove it- although perhaps it''ll make them feel safer in their hiring of our services!"


    Corwin couldn''t see a reason to refuse so he started shucking off his travelling year and grabbed his training blade from his sack.


    A small crowd had already started to form in a circle around them, and bets were being placed. It was a little mortifying to hear that some thought he''d be downed in the first few seconds, but then again, he was the newest member of the group. Not all of them had seen his earlier fights, clearly.


    Seeing his readiness, Erina didn''t wait.


    Unlike her sister, Erina used a greatsword-an oppressively heavy 2-handed weapon which she used to significant effect. Admittedly, this was a little strange for someone that specialised in reconnaissance missions, however, he had seen her practising with small throwing daggers as well.


    Like he had come to expect, she charged in with a devastating swipe angled diagonally downwards to the left. Quickly, Corwin jumped back out of range.


    Although the sword had been magically blunted, he knew from experience that he still wouldn''t be having a good day if he was hit.


    With the end of the greatsword now angled at the ground, he dashed in, sword at the ready. Seeing her grin, he quickly realised the trap- but too late, the pommel of her greatsword was already thrust in his path.


    Barely managing to block the hilt of his blade, he was still winded by the force of the thrust. Frantically retreating, he could see her swinging her blade into position. He was out of posture, off-balance, and there was nothing he could do to block her next swing.


    "OY!! STOP THE FIGHT!"


    Immediately ceasing her swing, Erina looked over and cringed to see the boss bearing down on them. Corwin similarly panicked when he saw his saviour.


    "Look, I don''t mind you having a rumble, but pay some mind to the surroundings! I was trying to get a deal done, and all I could hear was you lot cheering and yelling."


    "Sorry, boss" sheepishly replied Erina.


    The boss interjected before Corwin could echo the sentiment.


    "It''s fine now; the deal is sorted. But, they want to say a few words to the lot of you, so pack this up and head over. Now!"


    Slowly, amidst murmurs of discontent, the group slowly made their way over to the merchant''s caravan.


    Finally catching his breath, Corwin placed his training sword back in his pack and ran to catch up with Erina, who was already on her way over.