I

Yoreno breathed in deeply. He felt so nervous after last night’s dinner when his father had introduced him to many of the kingdom’s nobles, most notably Lady Brennovo. He didn’t know much about her, but apparently she was famous for her connection to some long dead legend that saved the world.

He needed to learn more about that history so he fully understood who he would be dealing with. His father, John had somehow procured for Yoreno the position of pupil. He was under no illusions that this was not a coveted position within the kingdom of Aevalin.

And that was why he was shaking right now. Yoreno was to become a knight. He had had some sword training, but not a lot. What if she thought him a soft noble unfit for knighthood? He would be disgraced, not only within his own family, but also among Lady Brennovo’s companions.

Since she was famous, Yoreno would be known far and wide as the pupil who had failed, and Lady Brennovo being who she is, how could she fail a student? She was a top-tier adventurer. The failure would be Yoreno’s entirely.

He swallowed, rung his hands. Even he was aware of how nervous he must look. But no one in the early morning seemed to care that he was walking in the street. Right now he was in a residential district just outside of the area where the new apartments his father had procured were.

A lovely place to live, he thought. And that was the soft boy talking right now. He knew as much. Yoreno needed to harden himself. He wanted this knighthood. Now with the new proclamation of the Age of Readventure, adventuring was to become a lucrative trade. Or was it already a lucrative trade?

Yoreno felt so ignorant.

On either side of him were triple-story houses, their blue and red tiled roofs and eves so different than the construction in Haven only a few day’s travel from here. This city was at once more grand and opulent than Haven or any other walled kingdom Yoreno had heard of.

Despite its terrible history, things seemed quite well these days. People had money, wealth, high-class lifestyles and beautiful housing. At least those in the city did. Yoreno knew nothing of the surrounding countryside.

He would learn. All in due time. He walked on, taking the street on his left. In the distance, a dog barked. In front of him people began to set up shop in the streets to sell fruits, vegetables and meats.

The city of Aevalin was rich, the foodstuffs and work plentiful, if the morning market stalls and the ships in the harbor were any evidence of that.

Yoreno caught the sun in his eyes as it crested the gable of the house in front of him. He shielded his eyes from the golden morning light. The sun wasn’t strong now, but it would be later.

In Haven, the summers were hot—stifling even. Aevalin was not far enough away to have weather that was any different, other than the sea, and that, Yoreno discovered, did bring a certain coolness.

“And rains!” John had said.

Father was so excited to be in Aevalin, he spoke about it often, the things he had learned, the opportunities in the now and the future. His excitement was infections to Yoreno.

And now he was to meet Lady Dantera Brennovo at her guild house.

He swallowed again. Was he ready for this?

After breakfast this morning, Yoreno bid his mother farewell, gave her a kiss and left. Celine hadn’t even awoken yet—the lazy cat. But like him, she probably couldn’t sleep. Everything was so new and fascinating he had gone to bed that night after the welcoming banquet more jittery than a rabbit caught in a dog’s teeth.

He sighed.

Lady Brennovo was intimidating to say the least. She was young, beautiful and famous. The other lords at the banquet all knew her, all wanted her attention, Yoreno could tell, much to the jealousy of various women.

The time they spent together was brief. Yoreno’s father had introduced them before they sat down and during the meal it was difficult to communicate, as there were many guests. Most of the exchanges were simply small talk and pleasantries. She had asked him a few questions, like what his experience with swords was, had he ever seen a monster, and the best, about whether he had spent much time outside of the walled kingdom of Haven.

Which Yoreno had not.

It was embarrassing!

Thankfully lady Brennovo didn’t show any signs of surprise or disgust with his answers. Maybe she was putting on a good face. He reached the seaside road. The windward direction leading out to open sea was not obscured by buildings, except for a short wall. Behind it were dunes and to the north, some wharfs.

Ships sailed the harbor, coming and going. Aevalin was a busy kingdom, and a port kingdom at that. No wonder it was rich. Adventuring by land, and shipping by sea.

Lady Brennovo’s guild house was north of here. Yoreno picked up his pace as seabirds cried. They made sounds unlike other birds. It was a croaking keen.

His mind wandered back to the Roaming Lions.

That was the name of her guild. She had given him instruction on how to find it. It was located up off the road he was on.

“Don’t worry,” she had said her strong Amalfi accent, smiling at him like he was some inexperienced boy. “You can’t miss it. It’s the manor house with the red flag, a half square of silken gold with a lion’s head atop it. My personal crest. Have no worry.”

Feeling sheepish, Yoreno had nodded.

Now he was supposed to take the aptly named Lion Crest street off this road. Ahead, he saw the sign, burned into a lacquered plaque atop a post. Even the signs here bespoke of Aevalin’s stature. The signs in Haven were often of old rotting and flaking paints, simply put on the sides of buildings.

He turned down Lion Crest street. Sure enough, the guild house loomed before him. It was beautiful, large and was surrounded by a wall and a gate. The wall had pinions of gold and red fluttering in the wind. Beside the wrought-iron gate on both sides were white marble statues of lions clawing at the air, their maws open wide and their manes flowing with the breeze.

Lady Brennovo’s guild house was dwarfed by Aevalin castle nestled up against Mount Herrylenia in the distance that gave it an air of grandiosity. The guild house was impressive in its own right, not because of its defenses, of which there were little, but because of the apparent wealth.

The wall was well maintained, the statues cleaned. Through the open gate Yoreno could see the manicured grounds and the hedges flanking the pathway into the guild house that had four levels, an overhanging roof of red tiles and a portico with steps leading to the front doors.

Guarding the gate was a man liveried in blue, red and gold and in his hand was a poleaxe with a spear tip. His silver helmet glinted in the morning light. “Good tidings,” he said nodding as Yoreno approached.

“Hello,” he said. “I am Lord Yoreno Brendara, here to see your lady.”

The guard nodded. “Please enter.”

It seemed the guard was mostly a formality. “Thank you.” Yoreno swallowed and passed through the gate.

There were guild members out and about. One was playing a flute on the steps, while two more were practicing at swords in the grounds, a small group of people and instructors watching them. To his left the gardeners were hard at work digging and moving dirt in wheelbarrows as they put in some saplings into the yard.

Yoren craned his neck to get a look at the Roaming Lion guild house. More pinions of blue, red and gold flew from the roof. He suspected the blue were in support of the kingdom, while the red and gold were of her house colors.

On the front of the portico was another lion’s head. This one was carved of white marble. Lady Brennovo was surely quite rich, as Yoreno’s father had remarked upon the day before. He went up the steps and passed through the fluted pillars of the portico. The guild hall was a flurry of activity. There were adventurers speaking in groups and at the front there was what looked to be an area for drinking spirits. On both the left and right sides of the room were boards with pins.

Calls to adventure no doubt.

On either sides of the large vestibule were stairs leading to other parts of the guild house. Yoreno had no idea where to go, so he went to the man behind the bar who was wiping a glass cup, something not seen often in Haven. “Excuse me,” he said.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“My lord, actually,” Yoreno said.

The bar man looked at him skeptically. “In any event, what can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for Lady Brennovo. I have an appointment to see her.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “You that new kid that’s supposed to be her apprentice?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “She’s probably on the terrace. She likes to train in the morning.” He pointed to the stairs on the right side of the room. “Go up those stairs and through the first door heading straight. She’ll probably be on one of the last terraces overlooking the sea.”

Yoreno nodded. “Thank you.”

He did as instructed, pushing through the first door heading straight after ascending the stairs. The common room had lot of dark fancy wood, lacquered to perfection atop a floor of white and black tiles, but once Yoreno pushed through this door, he found himself in a stone corridor with open arches overlooking the smaller structures with titled roofs and the sea.

Squinting, he made his way forward, the fresh and mild wind cool on his neck and the smell of flower blossoms filling his nose. As he approached what looked like the end of the corridor, the sounds of blades clashing and grunts of effort were audible to him.

Yoreno turned within the arch to find an open terrace, atop it were Lady Brennovo and another man he didn’t recognize. They were dueling and grunting as their fight undulated between giving and taking ground, their blades flashing.

The man, wearing nothing more than leather trousers and a loose white shirt, jumped back, then lunged forward with a power attack, his blade larger than anything Yoreno had ever seen and his wild black hair fluttering in the wind.

It was hard to see everything happening, but lady Brennovo jumped, summersaulted in the air. She landed behind the man and tapped her thin blade against his shoulder.

“Haha! Dead!”

The man paused, then slammed his fist through open air. “Dammit!”

“I’m just more agile than you are, Jorinius.”

He turned and smiled. “It seems so, Mistress.” He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I better get back.”

She nodded. “Thank you for the duel. My apprentice-to-be has arrived, anyway.”

They grasped each other’s forearms, then the man named Jerinius slung his huge sword over his shoulder and walked out, giving Yoreno a nod as he passed by. Yoreno returned the friendly gesture.

“Well,” Lady Brennovo said, clasping her hands in front of her, the point of her sword just inches from the stones. “You have arrived. You didn’t have trouble finding the guild house, I suspect?”

Yoreno took her in. Lady Brennovo wore stout trousers with knee-height leather boots. Her blouse had short sleeves with lace and over that she had a leather combat doublet with a thick belt at her waist, her blouse visible under the belt.

“No, I didn’t,” Yoreno said, walking out onto the terrace. He turned to her to avoid having the sun directly in her eyes.

“Good. We didn’t get to talk very much at your father’s banquet.”

“No.”

She smiled. “Perhaps we wouldn’t have spoken much anyway. You seem to be a man of few words, Yoreno.”

“I’m just—everything is just so new. It’s a lot to take in, my lady.”

She waved one of her gloved hands dismissively. “There will be no ‘my ladies or my lords’ here, Yoreno. This is the Roaming Lion. We have our own ranking structure in the guild.”

“But… aren’t you going to train me to become a knight?” he asked, confused. Surely that was what father had told him?

“Oh yes!” she said emphatically. “And a knight may swear fealty to a lord or the king himself. If you wish to do those things, you may, but your knightly status, once acquired—if you acquire it”—that put some fear into Yoreno—“will have no bearing on the other members of the guild. At least not when we’re in the guild house or out on adventures not in Aevalin’s direct service. Do you understand?”

He nodded. “Yes, my—yes, I think so.” Then, somewhat dumbly, Yoreno asked, “What should I call you?”

“My name is Dantera. You may call me Mistress, or Mistress Dantera.”

“Very well, Mistress.”

“So,” she said, “I have told your father that I would train you for knighthood. We—or I rather, dub knights here in my guild hall during certain times of the year. The first during the summer harvest festival, which you will not be dubbed at. No, no. It’s far too soon, and I doubt you will be ready by the fall festival either.”

“I see.”

“In days past, it took would be knights years to attain the rank. Now with magic, we can do it in a much shorter time. Not only because of magic, but because there are so. Many. Other titles!”

“Are you saying that a knight is no longer worth the same salt?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“In a way, yes. Even a person with no title, simply called ‘adventurer’ can rise in social stature and acquire fame, Yoreno. You will not just be a knight. You will be an adventurer, ready to fight monsters and other fell evil. Do you underastand?”

“Yes,” he said, his spirits somewhat dampened, and yet at the same time, piqued.

“We have much training to do, my young adventurer.” She spoke with a musical lilt to her words and a role of her Rs. It was quite different, though Yoreno wasn’t wholly unaccustomed to the ways of her speech, though in Haven it was quite rare.

“You’re from Amalfi, yes?”

“Ah, yes, you know my accent?”

“Somewhat. My family hales from there, from many generations back.”

“Wonderful. It’s a beautiful place, although I would say it is nothing like the grandeur of Aevalin.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m… as you have no doubt realized, am not well travelled.”

She chuckled. “You aren’t travelled at all.”

There was a pause between them. Had she really just snubbed him like that?

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, don’t be offended, Yoreno,” she said, sounding sincere. “I meant nothing by it. It is simply fact,” she said, waving a hand. “After the Age of Darkness, finding lords who have been shut up in walled cities is a common, and wholly expected thing, I think, yes?”

Yoreno nodded.

“Good.” Then she waved a lazy hand and added, “Now take up a sword. I will test your skills.”

“What?” he was surprised. “Now?”

“Of course, now,” she said, sounding somewhat indignant. “Did you think you would get a tour of the guild house? A nice hot breakfast? You are to be a knight, an adventurer. We start now. Today, yes?” She lifted her golden ponytail to scratch at the back of her neck and she twirled her sword.

“Oh—okay.” He walked over to the sword rack and picked up one of the blades. They weren’t expensively-crafted weapons, but they were of a decent quality, Yoreno could tell. “And they’re blunted?”

“Of course,” Dantera said. “And so is mine. This,” she said, holding the hilt with the blade sticking straight up into the sky only inches from her face, “is a replica of my own blade Ito Farralia.”

“Ito Farralia?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “It is a name, not a phrase. My blade is famous.”

And just like that, she told him her blade was in fact, a famous weapon. Lady Dantera, it seemed to Yoreno, had an ego.

“But it’s so slim.”

“Ah, yes,” she said, nodding. “And quick.” She moved, fast like a strike of lightning. Yorena barely noticed that she had brought the blade around and tapped him on the shoulder. She then brought the blade up to her face and caressed the blunted edge then. “Farralia is imbued with magic. It has the ‘Unbreakable’ ability.”

Yoreno’s eyes widened. That was extremely rare. “Truly?”

“Si!” she exclaimed, smiling. “Now, let us cross these blades, Apprentice.”

Yoreno nodded and then widened his stance, ready for their duel.

“Now begin!” she called, widening her feet and turning her body sideways, her sword reaching outward.

Yoreno hesitated. He had never sparred with an opponent who fought in such a way before. He took a step forward, swung his blade at her to get a feel for his opponent.

She parried his strike easily.

“Yes,” she said. “Good! Test me.” She beckoned him forth. “Come at me again.”

Yoreno obeyed. When he stepped forward, she stepped back. When he stepped back, she stepped forward. She mirrored him perfectly.

He slashed horizontally.

She parried, then skirted around him and tapped his back with her blade. “You are dead, Yoreno. An attack may come from the side, it may come from below. It doesn’t always come head on. Remember that. Monsters do not fight with any honor, and neither did the usurper Balthazar or his Grand Bastard.”

Now she was mentioning the very history he had decided to learn more about. Had they been in another situation other than a duel, Yoreno might have asked her about that. Nodding, he felt like a young boy in the yard again, except this time, he knew she wasn’t teaching him now, she was testing him.

“Again,” she said, walking away from him and then turning. “Attack me!”

She changed her posture, one leg forward and bent at the knee, the other stretching out behind her, her arm curved to make the blade point face Yoreno, and yet she held the blade behind her with her arm tucked away on her back. Her stance reminded him of an animal poised to strike.

A poisonous animal.

A lovely poisonous animal.

She snapped her fingers even through her leather glove. ‘Yoreno, are you distracted?”

“No,” he said, then went in aggressively. Not with powerful strikes. No, Yoreno wasn’t powerful, but he liked to think he was decent when it came to speed.

Their blades flashed, she parried, stepped away, came in with her own attack. Yoreno parried her blow and stepped away clumsily. To put his situation to rights he went on the offensive again.

Like last time, Dantera parried his blade and swept around his front to his side, her feet crisscrossing as she shunted in for an attack, but this time Yoreno brought arced his blade back just in the nick of time and her thin sword—he had forgotten the name—struck his own.

Unfortunately she was so quick she stepped close enough to grab his wrist. Then she brought her blade to his throat. She smiled. “Dead, Yoreno.”

“You’re very fast,” he said. It was an excuse, a weak one at that.

“Yes, well, my style aids in speed. It is not strong or powerful, though I can do devastating piercing damage to an opponent. Many a monster has died from my blade.”

“I’ve never seen a monster before,” he said, feeling… what was it? Afraid?

“Which is why we will study about them. We will fight and we will train. And we will go on adventures. I am not just training you to become a knight, Yoreno. I am training you as my protégé, a knight of knights. An adventurer!” She said “adventurer” with a tone of reverence. “Do you think you can do this thing?”

He paused. The weight she just hefted onto him…

“The truth. Tell me what you think.”

“I don’t know.”

“Good.”

“What?”

“Do you think I want a bravado-stuffed buffoon who argues with my teaching at every chance he gets?”

“No.”

“This is perfectly exact, my young apprentice. I will teach you, mold you. Make you my fighter.”

“Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Your apprentice.”

“Ah,” she said, then she laughed. “Your skills with a blade are good.”

“You destroyed me.”

“No,” she said emphatically. “Well, yes, but I am a blade master,” she added, smiling. “It is to be expected, yes?”

“I suppose you are right, Mistress.”

“Si,” she said. “Now we do not have to continue sparring. I want you to find your rooms. You will become situated, and then you will begin reading. We have much to study in the way of monsters, magicks and tactics, Yoreno.”

He nodded with all of her words, taking in her commands for his present and future instruction. Yoreno wasn’t particularly bookish, but he welcomed the study, if that was what Dontera said he needed.

“What is it?”

“Hmm?”

“You seem thoughtful, Yoreno.”

“Oh,” he said. “I was just thinking about the monsters.”

She smiled, raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well, you will have plenty of time for that. There are others training for knighthood here in the guild hall. You will make their acquaintance.”

“I will,” he said, nodding in affirmation.

“Good.” She paused. “Also… how old are you?”

“I’m ten and seven, Mistress.”

She smiled. “Very well.” As she said the words, Yoreno, perhaps for the first time, realized she too was very young. Not as young as he, but she was certainly young.

So Lady Brennovo was famous, rich and young. And also descended from a legendary figure from Aevalin’s past? No wonder she was so well regarded as Yoreno’s father had said. When John had spoken about her, Yoreno thought he was simply exaggerating.

“Go on,” she said. “Go to Kylen at the bar. He will tell you what you have to do.”

“All right,” Yoreno said.

She nodded, then put her sword in the rack and walked through the thick wooden door to her right without looking back at him.

He was to be her protégé? She was kind, interesting, but she seemed somewhat cold for some reason.

Yoreno turned, looked out across the open sea, the ships slowly sweeping across the horizon. A feeling of excitement travelled through his core. The sea birds cried as the sun shone in his eyes. It was starting to get hot. He sucked in a deep lung full of air, then let it out slowly.

“I can’t… believe I’m here,” he muttered to himself. Then he wondered what his sister Celine was up to.

There must have been many other potential candidates if Lady Brennovo was looking for a protégé. The gentle breeze made the red flowers in the pots sway. Maybe father could tell him more about why he was chosen for this some other time.

For now, Yoreno would do as he was told. He left the stone terrace and went back to the vestibule with the white and black checkered floor where Kylen and the bar was. “Master Kylen,” he said, addressing the man there.

Kylen had white hair and a thick moustache, but otherwise the rest of his face was shaved quite cleanly. The older man wore a shirt with wide cuffs and a doublet over that. “I take it you met our Roaming Lions mistress?”

“Yes,” he said. “She told me to come see you, that you could tell me what I needed to do?”

He nodded. “The first thing you have to do,” he said as he poured some spirits from a glass jug into a small cup, “is drink this.”

Yoreno took the cup and downed it. Gods, he thought, coughing. Why was it so strong? “Did you not water it?”

Kylen laughed. “Water is for boys. You have to drink the hard stuff to become a man—a knight. An adventurer.”

Did they come in that order normally?

He poured another. Yoreno shook his hand and waved it away. “No,” Kylen said sternly. “Drink it. Now.”

“Okay,” Yoreno said, nodding. “He downed the next one.”

“Good! Now another.”

“No, no—“

“You will, boy!”

“Okay, okay.” Yoreno drank it and nearly choked.

“Not bad. Now another.”

“What are you doing?”

“Did Mistress Dantera not tell you to come to me, boy?! I said drink it!”

He drank it.

Kylen continued to ply Yoreno with drink, and now he was starting to feel tipsy.

“Yeah, and these two more.”

“Gods,” he said, “but why?”

“It’s not your job to ask why, boy. You just obey, and right now, in this guild, lord or not, I am your better. You’ve come to me, have been sent to me, and you must do as I say” he growled.

Yoreno nodded. He wasn’t expecting this. Not at all. Was this some kind of joke? He couldn’t say no, could he?

He downed the two cups.

“Akh! Gods!”

“Good,” Kylen said, smiling. Then he put the jug in front of Yoreno. “I have to go do some things. If this isn’t gone by the time I get back, you can walk straight out that door.” He pointed to the entrance.

“You mean—“

“Yes!” he said sternly. “You’ll be done here.”

“But—“

“No excuses. You do what you have to do, or you return back to your mother.” With that, Kylen turned and left Yoreno there.

Surely this had to be some kind of jest!

There was no way this was real, what Mistress Dantera wanted of him? But what was he to do? Yoreno turned, looked about. There were some other guild members in the hall near the board.

Were they watching him?

One was a tall fellow in partial plate armor. It was quite ornate. The sword on his back was long, but the hilt was almost just as long. A strange weapon if ever Yoreno saw one. His companion, shorter, wore a black tunic and knee-high leather boots. In his hand he held a wooden staff. A mage?

The drink.

He turned and filled his two cups, downed them and tried not to cough or make a fool of himself. Yoreno must have been failing, because the two guild members sniggered. The shorter one elbowed the other as if to say, “Hey look at that fool over there.”

It took him some time, but Yoreno finally finished the bottle. The room was swaying now. Or was that him? Something pressed up against him. He couldn’t get around it. It frustrated him, but eventually some men came and helped him. But where were they taking him? Into a hall? A room?

They laid him down in a bed. He didn’t want to sleep!

But he did.

Yoreno opened his eyes. The ceiling was wood, the walls plaster. The sun shone through the window, cutting a stark line of orange across the room.

Was it evening? Had he slept that long?

He laid there for a time, but finally got up. That’s when his head started pounding. That was right. He had drank the whole bottle if spirits Kylen gave him. Was that a jest or some kind of trick?

Was Yoreno going to fail before he even began because some other member of the guild didn’t like him for whatever reason?

Some other member…

Yoreno was not a member. Not yet, to his knowledge.

A knock came at his door.

“Enter,” he called, his head pounding a little harder.

The door opened and a young girl, about his age, looked at him. She was pretty, with shoulder length blonde hair that got shorter towards the nape of her neck. “Yoreno Brendara?”

“Yes.”

“Kylen wishes to see you in his chambers.”

He paused.

“Oh.”

“I’ll take you to him.”

“Of course,” Yoreno said, rising from the bed. He was still fully clothed. “Agh.”

“Are you all right?” she asked, taking a step toward him.

“It’s nothing,” Yoreno said, but he was certain he saw a hint of a smirk on the girl’s face. “Please lead the way.”