Morning glory came to be as animals scurried and plants breathed. It was right. It was good. But altogether, just another day for William. His life was nothing special, nothing glorious like the omnipotent sun that had the confidence to rise every morning. Instead, he laid in bed, fast asleep, with no real will to seek a greater talent. The room was empty, as all of his pastimes lay elsewhere; motionless, steadfast. The only furniture left was a nice, cozy bed and a desk with drawers. His room was assembled of standard wood piled together, erected without much thought of how others may perceive it. His home was nothing more than a shelter that covered all his basic needs, and on one hand, he would have preferred to appear more extravagant when it came to the decor of his family’s house, but a lack of funds and motivation were two nails on the coffin that he could not unhinge.
His father Alexander walked in, with no real happiness nor anger, a state of nothingness as he paced towards his own child. He sighed, looking dejected at William.
“You know, those children will continue to harass you even if you skip a day from the academy.”
William stretches his arms, woefulness ever-present but drifting away with each inch of consciousness. The wings on his head, a shameful reminder of his poor genetics in Drakenhood, unfurled and unraveled, sit atop his head. “I am aware of such things, father. I was just postponing the inevitable.”
Alexander nodded. “You have to be ready for that final test tomorrow, William. Our reputation hangs on you if, fail or not. We are counting on you to do what is right. I will see to your leaving once you are ready.”
William got out of bed to put on his clothing, stretching and fighting the cloth. My Father and Mother say that this test is important, but I have no clue as to what I am even studying for. Every day in this school is only worth more trouble for me. Why should I bother?
But he knew better than to question his parents’ authority. He walked out the door as his father put an arm around him, giving him a quick hug to illuminate some semblance of agape between the two of them. “Do your best.”
William nodded, as he headed to school. Everyone else was stumbling out of their houses and onto the streets, children and adults alike. He ran quickly to his teacher’s meeting house, trying to avoid running into anyone as he meandered his way on muddy paths. Their civilization was very moral, but of course, he wanted to avoid any unnecessary confrontations. Running into the classroom, it seemed like he was almost the last person to enter, safe for one or two stragglers. It was similar to his house in terms of materials used, but a lot more put together in terms of craftsmanship, which was to be expected. Although a select few students were missing as he sat down, so he sat down, thinking deeply. This test that will soon come has to be something of ridiculous importance. Something physical, mental… maybe even both? A testament to an area we have never trained in?
It had always been this way since the beginning. When he was at the age of five, all the other kids had become so proficient at what they did. The words echoed in his mind as his parents listened to the council that had reviewed his skills. They peered at him, searching for any ounce of potential, any hopes of validation, but he could hear it before it was even said.
“He is a lost cause.”
Not only did he seem to be physically deficient compared to the rest of his comrades, but his views were simply too contradictory to the community’s views. His culture took up fists to fight, and hands to eat, with no honor. At his age, he began to read books from the library that was present in his village. The people had asked for the building to be torn out since it served almost no purpose for their bloodthirst. But William, William on the other hand… scoured for remains of knowledge. He learned the many wonders of human society at the time, and relics of the past. Humor. Mystery. History accounts of the world, and fantasies of being in another realm. The hypothesis of the current system of things, the unending wonder of the marvels of the universe. He had known it all by then, and the kids poked fun at him for his unusualness, his zeal for books instead of his ability to fight. But because of that torment, he has despised this place ever since.
The people need someone who really, really knows what they're doing. Why should it matter, waging war with our enemies, getting more stronger, when we cannot rise and bring glory in the long run? He looked at all the kids his age. They were all distracted, roughing each other up or talking about yesterday’s struggles… William walked to a random seat in the front.
Yesterday? Today? Tomorrow? Why does it matter? I am going to leave my mark on this world, and they will know my name forever.
“Hey, you.” His mind stopped thinking as he began listening. “Yes, who else would we be talking to?” William looked up, seeing two boys looming over him, looking at him forbiddingly. “Look, I know you think you have this test all figured out… but whatever it is… we will make sure that we-”
“Ahem.” The teacher looked sternly at the others before he began pulling out his materials, clearly seeing the situation but pretending to be aloof. He was a weak-looking man, wearing a leather tunic with basic-looking trousers. William knew he was nothing impressive in terms of physical aspects, but after talking with his teacher, he knew he was very mentally proficient
“Just know that we are three steps ahead of you…” They went back to their seats after their scheming, visibly disappointed but still intent on hating him.
“Children, please find your seats. We will now be discussing our last topic for today; Origins of Draken.”
Everyone becomes visibly disappointed as the chatter dies. William is essentially alone in the back rows, as everyone listens not so intently to this newfound subject..
“At the beginning of all Draken, when there were only the first twelve… they had decided amongst themselves that one Draken should lead them. If one of you kids remembers, from our knowledge of history that we talked about before, what was her distinguishing characteristic?”
People are left silent as William in the back rows raises his voice. “She was purple.”
The teacher grins. “Yes! Kids, color may just seem like an ounce of cosmetic bravado, a display for the eyes to watch as they fly the skies and run the grounds, but it is all to the contrary; colors hold powers, and as all of us may know already, Draken with different colors experience different regulated emotions. I am sure most of you have already assumed that purple is the mightiest color of them all in terms of power as well, and you would be right! Many colors like white and pink are also very high in order and rank. However, other colors like blue, orange, and black are on the weaker side of the genetic spectrum. As you may know, female Draken are usually weaker than male Draken, however, something you may not know is that purple is unique when it comes to males and females. What do you think makes it so special?”
A kid in the front row responds. “Well, would females be stronger than males if they’re purple instead of any color?”
The teacher shakes his head. “You are on the right track, but what do all purple Draken we have seen as of late have in common?”
William thought about it for a second. Accounts of a few rare purple Draken were things that he had read about, but out of everything else he had remembered, something had suddenly registered. In the back raises his voice again. “They are all females!”
The teacher applauds his answer. “Right again! Genetics prevents males from holding said color. Other colors have some more unique characteristics
“Oh, and meet me after class. We have something to discuss. Everyone else is dismissed. We will talk more about how traits influence power, such as claws, tail spikes, horn colors, and more.”
Everyone left as the one child left in the back gets up and walks to the teacher’s board. William watched carefully, the wings on his head drooping a little. The teacher had been looking at him expectantly all day for some reason despite his avid participation.
“What was your name again, fellow?”
The boy avoids eye contact for a moment before saying something. “William…William Slora. Did I do anything wrong, teacher?”
The instructor shook his head, displaying an appreciation for his academic inspiration. “On the contrary, I am fascinated by your knowledge! Just where do you find the time, the motivation, to achieve such an education?”
William’s expression lightened a bit. “I just like reading in my spare time. It just so happens that I remember all these small details and patches when I study.”
The teacher gives him a pat on the back. “Well, I must say, that is really going to help you in the long run, young man! Do you have other friends that you study with?”
The boy nervously tries to come up with the answer but the teacher sighs. “I suppose that you are not very well appreciated by your classmates, no? But, hark! I see a bright future for you, and there is something you must know…”
William looks at him, his fear suddenly washed away by a pool of far-reaching rumination. “And what may that be, teacher?”
There is an ominous silence before he begins speaking again. His demeanor suddenly makes a rapid spin as if he spilled burning tea all over himself. “Tomorrow,” the teacher says. “Tomorrow, they will make you battle for your comrades' blood. It is the last test that they establish every four years for young lads to be put on the battlefield, to ensure that they have capable men and women for the future of the Drakenblood Warriors. Your life is in danger tomorrow!”
William looks at him in shock. “This cannot be true, right?” William lies in shock, almost incapable of hearing what’s being told. “This is abominable! I have to tell the others!” The young boy runs for the door but the teacher grabs his garment by the neck and pulls him.
“If you tell the others, they will have our heads by sundown,” he divulged.
“But why to tell me this, I implore! Why am I withheld from saving innocent lives?!”
The teacher looks at him, a sense of dread in his eyes. “They are far from innocent. They are delusional! Every one of them… took my son! A long, long time ago, I once had a family. But my son went through the test that you will go through the next day, however, he never returned home, and my wife… she left me.” William was speechless, left to think that either his teacher was having a psychotic episode, or that there was much to hear in what he was saying. “Do you not see, William?” His hand extended beyond the mountains that his parents often told of. “I have nowhere else to go… I am locked in this prison of eternal teachings.” His silence is held for a while as he tries to keep his composure. “But! You have something special! Truly I say to you, I know that if you take the steps necessary, you can rid us of this castaway society of a system of things. This can end in just a couple of years with your prowess. Just give this idea a chance, William! I beg of you.”
William stands alone in his realm of thoughts, testing every possibility. It was a heavy burden to carry, but he agreed with what his teacher said; out of all the books he had read, especially the ones by Shakespeare, he knew there was more to life than what his life had offered. “I am the weakest of these kids! What do you expect me to do?”
“You have this!” The teacher puts both his hands on William's head. “You simply have not seen the potential, but I have watched you so closely. I watch my students as if they were my children. William.” The teacher stares into his eyes. “Showing up and displaying the power of man is only half the battle. The other half is the gift you have not used; your knowledge!”
William stood still looking into the eyes of his instructor. His otherworldly senses told him this was no lie, and a strong sense of justice empowered him. “I… I see it now.” The boy ponders about his escape strategy from the battlefield and how he could disguise his getaway. Then… it all clicks. “I see situations where this goes wrong, but… I will not give up. I will see through this matter. I will do my very best!”
The teacher is refilled with the hope he has once lost. “It makes me so happy to hear you say that. I know you will do great wonders. I wish you the best of luck, so take good care, okay?”
William nods, as he leaves the room, back to his house as he blazes through the evening warmth. He dashes as he makes it to his house, opening the door. His mother, Elena, looks at him through the hallway as he goes to his room.
“What took you so long?” She asks, a hint of displeasure in her voice.
“The teacher had to give me some special new books from the library, do not worry about it!” His mother paid no further attention and she goes back to her duties as he gets under his covers. As much as I hate lying, it is necessary for everything to be right tomorrow. I need to get as much rest as possible to make sure everything goes as planned. Here is hoping that it will.
…
It was a crisp evening, with several homes scattered across the village. The grass was littered and tattered, full of footprints and many things like the wild. He stood proud among about a hundred of his kin. The air was cold, but not freezing; others stood dead silent with no inspiration to talk to each other. Some of them seemed to be like normal humans, similar to him. Others were much more special, blessed with draconic arms, tails, and even wings to some extent. All of these students hated him, for he was weak in the ways of combat, and it was something he was brutally aware of. But when he pondered it again, his teacher’s words echoed; “You have something special!”
“Welcome, pupils… to your special lesson for today.” Everyone looked around for boards to look at, training dummies, hay bales, and other things for training and instruction. But there were nothing but young Drakenblood Warriors and a couple of adults. William’s heartbeat outside of his chest, knowing full well what was about to happen.
“You may be wondering what is going on, and I will explain it in just a moment. But I just want to say; I am proud of each and every one of you.”
No one but me knows what is about to happen, the boy thought. What lay before them was what probably seemed like an exam or a quick sparring session among the students. But to him, he knew full well that many lives would be lost here and now.
“This is indeed one of our final exams for you. Some of you… will not come back from this one, unlike other times.”
The other adolescents glanced at each other as the instructor continued with his talk. “Today, you will demonstrate the true rage you were born with, the rage that Draken harbor, the power that humans authorize, and you will fight each other as long as you can. No rules. Win as necessary. Go-”
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Someone spoke up before the instructor could continue. “This is some kind of joke, correct?”
No verbal answer, but it was not needed after a couple of moments as the instructor grabbed him by his shirt and threw him across the village houses, flying hundreds of feet into the air. He then later crashed into a building and the whole house collapsed in the distance. Everyone was left to complete shock as they watched in agony, knowing that falling that distance was a guaranteed sending to the creator almighty. Silence ensued before any further response from the instructors. “Any other questions?”
No one said anything.
“And if you try anything funny, we will catch you. And it will not be pleasant. Now fight as you mean it!” He jumped out of the ring of fences, disappearing.
The child swiveled his head and looked around. Everyone was looking at someone differently, waiting for each other to make a move. Nothing was going on until one person made a move, tackling another kid. Others began to strive for similar moves and started punching and kicking where they could utilize their full strength.
This is not a free-for-all! This is a bloodthirsty brawl! He thought, but before any more thought could occur, a fist came out of the left field and he quickly dodged it by moving his head. “William! Get back here!” The kid who was teasing him before began pursuing him, but suddenly, the kid chasing him suddenly fell to the ground. I have to get out of here!
The scene went from typical to chaotic in just a matter of seconds. He knew it was coming, but for all the others… why was this happening now of all times?! Everything was fine before this, every lesson was selfless and harmless in its teaching… Was this what it meant to be a Drakenblood Warrior? Screaming, blood flying everywhere, unconscious bodies… his heart rate drastically rose as he gasped for air, running away from the scene. Nobody seemed to notice his escape as he jumped over a village fence to hide from all the action. The battle continued without him as he watched from afar, horror seeping into his eyes further. This was no demonstration of strength among his brethren. This was to the farthest extent barbaric. Is this why his father never let him touch swords and weapons of similar nature or just general tools in the assistance of battle?
After a good while of watching a gruesome attack unfold, only a fourth of the students remained, walking over pools of blood. None of them, to his dismay, were concerned about the others they may have just killed. Instead, they stood in their shameful glory, looking to the adults for praise.
“Attention. For those of you still standing, congratulations. You passed a selection of the greatest warriors. Simply put, we cannot have the weakest people among our tribe; we need the strongest offspring this village can offer.” The instructor looked everywhere. “Do not worry; those who died, their parents knew what would happen. For they went through the same process you all did just now. Celebrate.”
The remaining standers shouted in triumphant laughter, as he watched with great disdain and anger. I cannot believe my parents would accept my death like this, he thought as he ran out of range. He had to plan a way to live somewhere else as he ran back home to recover some of his belongings.
…
“Elena, our son was never obedient. He was irresponsible and uncultured. Every day, he grew away from his fate of becoming another faithful Drakenblood Warrior. He was a disgrace!”
The mother sat in a chair, bewildered by everything that was happening. “Just… just give it some time, Alexander. I think this is a topic we should refrain from speaking about.”
“But how long will we wait?!” The father yelled. “All the rest of the children have gotten the point and progressed, he was still left behind! He was fifteen!” He toned down, noticing his own anger and taking a moment to process the physical loss of his son. “I will put away the rest of his belongings outside.”
The father stepped out of the living room and into the room of his son. Upon entering, he noticed a sword that was pushed upright against the wall. It was hardly a pleasant thing to look at, a disrespect to their elders and him as well. They fought the might of evils by fists alone, brawlers of many aspects, and yet… This sword was in his inheritor’s room. Then, Alexander saw somebody in William’s room and his muscles tensed and expanded in response to stress, but his fear died down as he recognized his form. A new form of anger grew inside of him as he watched. “I cannot believe you came back!”
“Who would not run from such a tragedy?!” William was afraid, but he stood his ground in rebellion
“I know it all sounded poor to your ears, but you must understand-”
“What more is there to understand?” The boy muttered. The father shook his head. It was another one of these types of reactions. Ever since he was born, there was this sense of dread and despair on his son’s face. The father never comprehended his sunkenness; was it a defect?
“What do you mean?” Alexander replied. “This is all there is to understand. We use our fists because it is our tradition. Put this so-called ‘honor’ and sword away for the sake of our tribe. I did this, and so can you… I know you are better than this!”
“No, dad! You are desensitized! you all have this wrong, why do you never see?”
“No more of this wild talk!” The father yelled. “I want you to stand up like a man and fight like a man the way we have always done it. I want you to throw that piece of metal away right this instant!”
“Father… what I saw…” He began to weep dejectedly. “S-so much blood, and- and-” he sobbed violently, traumatized by the events. Blood splattered everywhere. The scene was still so vivid. He only managed to survive because he escaped in the middle of all the chaos, and they assumed him to be dead along with a couple of others. But otherwise, he would have been long gone. “I-I cannot, I cannot go back!”
“No, you will! I made it through, and you will too! If you do not, they will kill you!”
The son dashed out of the house and his father tried to stop him by pinning him to the wall, but the boy was much more agile and adept, avoiding the arm sent by his father and grabbing his sword out of the doorway. “Come back here!” He yelled.
The boy caught a quick glance at his mother when he busted the door down. All he could see was the disbelief in his mother’s eyes. It was a look that was so painful. The look that told him she was expecting a successful, perfect life and inheritance out of her blessed son. That she had given birth to a miracle, and that all of the divine inspiration that was once there had died out. She had nothing more to say in this case.
It was the look that told him she was going to miss him forever.
He was heartbroken as he ran as fast as he could, out the doors and into the ruthless night, his father losing the energy to keep with him and follow him. The image kept replaying, tormenting him time and time again, and he kept running, not even thinking about if someone was going to eventually come looking for him. His sword that he held, forged from special materials, gifted to him by his mentor, helped him feel whole and safe. But compared to the vast layer of darkness that had covered his world and its infidelity to all moral codes, after all that occurred, he felt like he was holding nothing more than a metal stick.
He finally lost the will to keep running as he held onto his weapon panting heavily and sitting down for a moment. The forest trees haunted this presence as leaves fell upon his entrance. Crickets and owls laughed at his arrival, and he felt more neglected than ever. What would he do now? He had no village left to return to. Surely they would kill him the next day he came back, so there was no option to do that. The sword was the last thing he truly had to remember from his village now, and it did not even come from his village specifically. It was actually granted by King, his mentor for special training.
The newly awakened knight, banished from being a warrior, took a swing at the tree. It did not budge as it made a heavy mark on the bark.
Who would be a kingdom willing to accept him for who he was?
He sliced again. Similar results, but he was willing to try again.
Where could he go now that he was banished from his origin?
This time, he put his heart and soul into the slash, almost throwing the sword with such a mighty slice. The whole tree was split down the middle, and it fell with a big heave.
The kingdom in the distance will help me!
He resolved to visit his special mentor King, heading towards the forest. King's place was in the middle of a clearing, a pond resting close to the foundations as trees arched overhead and created an air of mysticism. It was very peaceful whenever the boy was in his mentor’s presence, but something about him always rubbed him the wrong way. King was an honorable man, but he was indeed harsh at times, especially when his instructors told them that he would train with King on certain days, and even then, he was much more well-behaved than his parents. Walking from the village to King’s house took no time at all, and he was advised he could come at any time, so he opened the door and let himself in. King was awake, and the boy could sense it because the sound of breathing quickened as soon as the door was open. King did not need a lock because he was blind, and his senses were beyond ordinary, so he waved in the darkness. King mumbled. "Why did you have to come in while I was sleeping?"
"I… could not sleep, and I wanted to find someplace else to explore so-"
"You have already explored this place a million times," he said, turning away from him. “You ran away from the testing procedure, did you not?
The boy straightened. "Y-yes. I left, is there an issue?"
King sighed. "No, there is not. Just restrain yourself from making more noise."
He nodded in the darkness. "I also wondered… this might sound somewhat stupid, but would it be a terrible idea to leave the village?"
King was silent for a moment. "Is it that poor over where you live?" He chuckled.
"I do not think I have to tell you again, do I?" The bruises and stings were still present, fresh and searing. "Do you think this is something to laugh about right now? Do you know what I went through just to get here?" He was released from his prior shock as it took him a little while to perceive all of his sensations, and he recalled what King said. “You… you knew this whole ‘test’ would happen! Why did you not say anything!?”
"Please relax, my student. I simply jest. But I can see why you are so upset." King shuffled in his covers a bit. "You found out before it happened, did you not? And so you planned a clever getaway when you saw it most fit… am I wrong?”
William could not say anything. “I… guess not.”
King nodded. “The rules never stated you could not run… and you have proved a greater might than no one has proven in decades. A powerful intellect, and as you may have noticed, there is no other specimen like you. Your parents were not going to make you go back and fight. But they certainly were believers in physical training. This way to pass the test is very much frowned upon, but I personally congratulate you.”
William stood in silence, impressed by King’s words and his ability to perceive the situation through everything. It was the reason why he liked him so much throughout his childhood.
“There is nothing wrong with leaving your village. I have a friend in another kingdom who can help you get acquainted with some new folks."
The student gazed at his mentor, upbuilt in hope to menial extents. "Is that so?"
"However," King stated, "you will have to hide your presence as a Drakenblood Warrior because the king’s men will kill you on the spot if your identity is discovered. Not only that, but if things are done poorly, you may find yourself in the same situation as the one you are currently experiencing. Do you still wish to proceed, or will you try to mend the relationship with your parents?"
It took a moment for him to think of which decision to take. There was no room for improvement in his current dilemma, so why not start fresh? If he did not like it, he could always go back to the wilderness, so there was no downside. When he was ready and grown up, he could decide if he would ever return, to fulfill what his teacher wanted him to do.
The boy spoke bravely. "I want to move on."
King groaned. "I did not want to get up for all of this, you know?" He dusted himself off. "But I guess that if you want to leave, then I will respect your wish. After all, you are my favorite disciple. I have known you since you were merely a toddler."
The student bowed. "You have my gratitude."
King nodded. “Although, you cannot go in looking like some commoner. What you need is a disguise that fits your weapon. I have just the thing.” King went upstairs and the boy followed intently, wondering what it could be that he was to be shown. His mentor opened a closet and there it was; a pristine, well-polished armor set.
King put his hand on the soon-to-be armored knight’s shoulder. “This, my disciple, is an armor set of ancestors from long ago, centuries to be precise. One of our forefathers wore this armor and was known as a Crusader. He was very similar to you, hence the holes in the helmet. But may I ask, would you really be comfortable using that sword or would you rather fight with what you have been given?
The boy looked at it with stars in his eyes. It seemed to be slightly big, but he could notice the details of the helmet, the gold, and iron shapeshifting, a battle suit made for drifting across the open wastelands without fear of injury. This was his new identity. “I have always seen battle as the relationship between one and their weapon. Seeing people bleeding, seeing people aggress with insane looks on their faces, throwing away their humanity for the passion of fighting unarmed; I felt like they had no love in their battle with others. However, a sword… it carried an honor much more tremendous than any pair of gauntlets, any punch sent at the opponent. A great and majestic way to behead any unjust human or Draken while still maintaining humanity. A way to preserve power behind closed doors, for when you needed it most. The valid constraint to unlimited power for one such as myself.”
“I knew you had a reason for having an attachment to swords and alike, but you continue to impress me,” King praised. “Very well, you may proceed.”
“I thank you deeply,” William replied. And so the journey for the kingdom began. The Knight did not have much to bring because his knight's armor covered every inch of his body, up to his face and down to his toes. He expected it to be uncomfortable, but he found himself being able to fit in the nooks and crannies perfectly, so there was no need for greater accommodation. All he needed on this journey was his sword, armor, and wits to travel with. With that, King and The Newly Knighted William started down the long path to the Kingdom Of Dirawin; the place he would relocate.
Along the way past the trees and into the plaintive plains, King informed him of the status of the kingdom and its system;
In the kingdom, there was one guild master and one ruler who was both well respected. One thing that King made sure to point out was that the king was not fond of Draken and suffered from severe leprosy due to a disease caused by a mysterious Draken, so The Knight made sure to never get anywhere near the sovereign intentionally. Although the king was old and plagued with disease, he somehow ran with his leadership just fine. The kingdom's people had their own beliefs, and the whole system went into chaos due to lots of disagreements. Despite all the turmoil, the kingdom sounded like a much better place to live in comparison. By the time they had reached the kingdom gates, they had heard the bell ring seven times, and everyone was proceeding to their morning routines; the drawbridge lowered onto the ground for his majesty’s newcomers, one such as himself. King talked to one of the guards and vouched for his entry, and the path cleared for his deliverance.
“The guild master will fill you in with all the details. Do not let others find out the truth of your origin. Good luck. Oh, and… make sure to use a new name when you enter the .” King gave him his approval and back towards the woods, leaving William truly alone for the very first time in his life. The Knight trembled in his armor. The anxiety of socializing with people who were of different thought processes and backgrounds was making him stressed, and he felt his muscles contract in fear. But the idea of a fresh start in a new society was revitalizing, and he could move on knowing that a better life was ahead of him. He walked up to the gate, and before he entered, the knights stopped him and checked his armor for anything suspicious despite King’s assurance. He was not quite sure why they did this, but he passed the inspection and moved along. The air was much cleaner, and everything felt so beautiful and civil. The feeling almost drove him to tears, but this was only the beginning, so he saved them for later. Among all the things, many people were walking about, so many houses, and lots of greenery in other places. One building looked a lot larger and more concrete, so he assumed this was one of the five guilds that King had mentioned to him. He stepped in, and he heard lots of yelling and conversing among the adventurers. Weirdly enough, no one looked at him upon his entry to the guild. William went to walk up the stairs as King instructed before but was halted when a woman at the counter called him upfront.
The woman peered at his armor very carefully, detailing him. The woman in front of him was wearing a somewhat tight kirtle that was short, likely so that she could run around with ease. A sudden realization appeared to wash over her face as she ran through papers, pulling one out of her woodwork. “You are new here, are you not?”
William stopped focusing on her physical movements and paid attention to her dialogue. “Ah, yes! I have been sent here to apply to the guild.”
“Please fill out this form before you talk with the guild master." She handed him a form so that he could fill it out. It asked him a bunch of questions he did not even know how to answer. One of the questions asked was about his weapons of choice and his specialties. Another one of the questions talked about if he had ever slain a Draken. It seemed kind of stupid; why would anyone want to kill a creature that lived a mostly peaceful life? The Knight filled out the form despite the credibility. "So what do I do with this?"
"You take the sheet up there and talk to the guild master to apply as an adventurer. May the light guide you, traveler."
He nodded his thanks and headed up to the stairwell. Everything seemed so new to him, and he had to admire the design feeling on the stone walls and the doors because it was so different from the village. The Knight knocked on the big doors, and a voice told him to come in. He did as he was told and found himself in the presence of an old and fit-looking man wearing some fashionable armor.
"Hm, a child wishing to become an adventurer?" His gaze pierced him. "How interesting. Close the doors behind you."
Armors, blades, books, and shields of all sorts covered the whole room when he took a quick glance, but then he remembered to be more polite. After all, he had to gain this higher authority’s respect. The Knight did as he was told and bowed before him, showing his respect and honor.
The guild master smiled warmly. "That is not necessary. You may stand up. What brings you here, young one?"
He spoke up. "I am here on behalf of the man named King because he has told me that you know a lot about the ways of the city. May you assist me?"
The man on the throne pondered for a bit. "I have not heard from King in weeks. How is he doing right now?"
The Knight tilted his head. "He is doing well."
"Glad to hear. I will get your adventurer sheet soon," The guild master replied. "And what name do you go by?"
The Knight hesitated. "Might I ask your name first?"
"Answering a question with a question, I see." The man stood up. "I go by the name Aaron, and as you may already know, I am the guild master of this kingdom."
The Knight nodded. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Oberon."
