Chapter 2

“Eric... you bastard...”

Victor couldn't help but laugh. Who else could that be, but his childhood friend? "...you never said you'd be doing this!

“Well...” Eric grinned. “...times change, you know.” The friends laughed as they shook each other’s hand. When Eric left Riverside two years ago, Victor had promised him that he'd move to Ravens Hill as well, once he came of age. Neither thought they'd bump into each other in the same line of work, of all places.

“Anyway, we can talk more about this later,” Eric said, having suppressed his laughter. “How’s about I show you around the guild, as is the custom for all Initiates?” Victor nodded. “Alright. Follow me.”

The two entered the hallway next to the stairs. Their footsteps echoed throughout the headquarters, as they entered a room with several practicing dummies and firing ranges. “This is the training hall, where you’ll practice your combat skills.”

“Wait, do I have to learn how to use a weapon myself?” Victor asked, knowing well that his swordsmanship was not up to par. “Oh, someone’ll instruct you, don’t worry about it,” Eric explained. Victor's worries were eased somewhat, yet he still wasn't sure of himself.

They continued down another corridor to their right, which turned to the right. Upon reaching the end, Victor found himself standing in a large mess hall, another corridor dead ahead of him. Tables were set against each other in three rows, enough room for some two hundred people. In the back of the hall was a doorway to an adjacent kitchen. “The mess hall. I doubt you need an explanation of what we do here.” Victor snickered. Two years later, still the same Eric.

They then ventured down the other hallway, which also bended to the right. Only now did Victor spot the doors lining the outer walls of the corridors. “What is behind these doors, exactly? You’ve been ignoring every one we've walked past.”

“Oh,” Eric turned on his heel, “those are just storage rooms. We keep equipment and everyday things in those, that’s all.”

“I see...” murmured Victor as they proceeded.

A large room with several bulletin boards hanging on the walls greeted them upon their entry. “This is the briefing room,” Eric said, “‘s where morning roll call takes place, and where you can see what work is available. In your initial training, your work will be chosen for you. Once said training is done, however, you get to choose your work, but you have to get the guildmaster’s approval first before you head off. ‘s not that complicated: Just take the note off the board, and show it to him.”

Victor nodded his head along as Eric explained. They then passed through one last hallway, which led back to the main hall, opposite of the training room. “That was the bottom floor,” Eric stuck an arm out towards the stairwells, “now for the upper floor.”

Having climbed the stone stairwell, the two stepped onto the wooden floorboards of the upper floor. additional storage space, and the quarters for the various ranks of the guild : The Veterans, the Regulars, and the Initiates. The guildmaster’s room was also on this floor, but entry was forbidden to those without explicit permission. One thing that became clear is that the lower one’s rank, the less privacy and space one would have; The Veterans had walled off rooms, complete with dressers and storage boxes whilst the Initiates slept in one big room, their beds being the only thing they had for themselves.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Eric pointed to a bed in the far right corner of the Initiates room. Victor walked over to the bed, and pressed his hand down against it.

“Not very comfortable…” he mumbled, placing his bag against one of the legs.

“Umm…”

A voice emerged from the other side of the room. Eric and Victor turned to see an adolescent man, arms crossed, eyes darting back and forth between them. Eric raised one of his hands besides his head.

“Hey there, Will. This is Victor, by the way,” said Eric, his free hand gesturing towards Victor.

“w-William, yes…” The stranger stuttered, his feet almost sticking to the ground as he shuffled his way to Victor, who approached him at regular walking speed.

“Victor. Nice to meet you.”

After shaking hands, Victor walked towards Eric.“He doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d join Civil Defense,” he whispered into Eric’s ear.

“His social awkwardness isn’t why he’s here, that's for sure,” Eric whispered back. “You won’t believe it ‘till you see it, but his archery skills? Second to none!”

The door of the Initiates’ room then flew open. The guildmaster walked in, hands resting on his hips. “Well then, Victor, how has the guild been so far?” he said, gazing straight into the soul of the startled Victor. “Oh, it looks... tremendous in here. Living here will be good,” Victor said, with caution; One wrong word, and he’d be back on the street.

The guildmaster tilted his head, as he sounded his rough voice again. “Right then... I hope your actions will be representative of those words. Tomorrow is your first training session.”

“Yes, guildmaster.”

The guildmaster turned his icy stare towards Eric, who held his head up in response. “Eric, your duty is to look after him during his initial training and missions.” Light ticking sounded on the roof as the guildmaster spoke. “Ease him into the program. Whatever he does is now your responsibility. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.” Eric saluted. Without so much as a word back, the guildmaster stepped back into the walkway, and closed the door behind him.

“Is he normally that cold?” Victor said, as the guildmaster’s footsteps weakened in the distance.

“Pretty much, Vic.” Eric sighed. “Great. Another person I have to watch. Don’t even get a say in the matter, just do. Well, 'least I know you, so here’s to hoping for the best. ‘ey, Will.”

William jumped at the utterance of his name. “Y-yes?”

“How’s about the three of us get something to drink? Just so that we can all get to know each other a little better,” Eric suggested with a beaming face. His words came out in a forcing matter, as if he wanted to forget everything for a while.

“Ehm... sure...” William said.

“As long as you show me where this tavern is, I'm down,” Victor followed.

* * *

A great pour greeted the three as they stepped outside. “Of course, rain. Always when I want to go outside.” Eric groaned. Not wanting to make his stay outside any longer than it had to be, he took off with a great burst of speed. “Let’s make this quick!” he yelled at the two initiates, who struggled to keep up as they followed him across three almost deserted streets.

The two initiates caught up with Eric in front of a tavern. A timber-framed building, indistinguishable from other buildings in Lokahnic cities, barring the tavern sign bearing the name "The Laughing Lizard" hanging above the door. with an image of a bipedal lizard with its mouth open underneath. The word “lizard” looked somewhat newer than the other words on the sign, and the image of a lizard had slight traces of what looked like wings, now erased. Something about this place felt shady, but he couldn't put his finger on what. “Let’s go,” Eric said, as he pushed the front door forwards.

An awful mixture of alcohol and body odors hung in the air. Victor’s eyes scanned around the place. The tavern looked off: The walls were decorated with crude drawings, all depicting the various pleasures of drinking. Cheap wooden tables were placed in a grid on the cobblestone floor, most of which were filled with customers drinking and laughing. In the back, a bard sang a crude drinking song, likely one he composed himself. Ugh, my mother warned me many times not to visit places like this...

Navigating their way through the noisy patrons, the company spotted an empty table by a wall, and sat down there. One of the waitresses came to them soon after they were seated. “Hello there, what would you gentlemen like to order?” Eric blurted out “Three beers, please!” before either Victor or William had any idea what they wanted to order. “Ah, the known recipe for youngsters. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Jumpy as usual, Eric?” Victor asked the jolly Eric sitting across to him, who nodded as he struggled to hold in his giggling.

“Seems like the more you change, the more you stay the same.”

“Errrrhm... Victor, right?” William said, breaking his silence. Victor turned to William, and nodded. “Do you and Eric… know each other?”

“Yes, we were friends growing up in the same village for six years. Until he left for Ravens Hill two years ago. That was the last I saw of him, until I bumped into him at the guild today. Last place I’d expect to find him, too.”

“Why is that?” William asked. “‘s because I told him I wanted to go into the army,” a now calm Eric interrupted. “Didn’t work out, they said I was too ‘hot-headed’. So Civil Defense it was... Hey, there’s the liquid gold!” he said, pointing at the waitress from before coming at them, carrying three tankards filled to the top.

“Cheers!” the three raised their beers. Foam spilled onto the table as the tankards clanked.

Eric raised his drink to his lips, and knocked it back.“Ahh, now that hit the spot!”

Victor took a slight sip, stirring the beverage in his mouth before swallowing. “Eh, it’s not bad.”.

Eric placed his tankard on the table. “Trust me, it'll be a matter of time before you'll appreciate it, like me. And him.” He pointed to William’s elated face, tankard half empty.

“You enjoying yourself over there, Will?” Victor said, puzzled by William’s odd satisfaction.

“Ohhh, you have no idea...”

Victor seized the moment. “Who are you exactly, William? Can you tell me something about yourself?”

“Me?” William blurted out, “Oh, right. Me. My name is William Morris. I’m from Pine Grove, a village that’s about a stone’s throw away from Ravens Hill. I come from a family of hunters, who taught me archery and tracking from a young age, and that’s why I know my way around a bow so well. I came to Ravens Hill to take those skills to higher places, with encouragement from my family. That’s about it.” He shrugged, and raised the tankard to his lips again.

“You know,” Eric said, after knocking back the remnant of his drink, “I never thought you were the pendant wearing type, Vic.”

Victor’s face colored, a sting of unease spreading through his body. He had forgotten about the amulet; something he never wore in public, until today. “You got a reason for wearing a trinket all of a sudden?”

“It’s not just ‘a trinket’,” Victor replied, his voice toned in a stern, frustrated manner, which surprised both; William’s laid back attitude disappeared. Eric put down his tankard on the table in surprise. “This is the last physical memory I have of my father, and I’d appreciate a little respect, thank you very much.”

“I... I didn’t know that. Sorry.” Eric looked down at the bottom of his empty tankard in shame.

William raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry for asking you this, but… what happened to your father?”

Victor sighed, preparing himself for a descent into the pit of his mind. “You know about eight years ago, right? When the Justitians took over?”

“Yes,” Eric said.

“My father was a commander in the royal army back then. Apparently, that would put him in danger, and coupled with him being a proud Draconist, it made him a prime target, and his presence put the rest of the family in danger, or so he said.” Victor laid his elbow on the table, and leaned his forehead against his hand. “We fled the capital on the night it fell. My father gave me this amulet, which was half of a whole, him carrying the other part. He told me I would need it if I wanted to find him again. And so I carried it with me to Riverside, where me, my mother and little sister settled, and that was life for the next eight years.”

“Damn,” Eric replied, “I knew your father had gone missing, but not about him being such a figure.”

“I find it hard to fully grasp it myself. There’s still something I don’t understand.” Victor raised his head back to eye contact level.

“Which is?”

“Why I need the amulet to identify him. I know what he looks like. I don’t get why the amulet is necessary to find out who he is all of a sudden.”

Eric shrugged, and gave a slight smile. “Well, it’s been eight years. Who knows what he looks like now. Perhaps that religion he follows ‘s got something to do with it.”

“Understandable.”

“Uhmm…” a red-faced William stuttered, “Sorry for being in the dark again, but he was a ‘Draconist’? What is that?”

Victor bit his lip. Not in public, William! Have you lived under a rock all your life? “Long story short,” he began, the tone of his voice hushed, “Draconism was the official religion of the old kingdom. Draconists worship dragons, believing them to be divine beings, if I remember correctly. It’s been illegal to practice ever since the Justitians came though, so stay quie-”

“OI! You bastards over there!”

A brutish voice cut through their conversation. The three almost jumped out of their seats. “Get off my table, you idiot kids!”

A bearded, muscular man cast a wide shadow over the three. His clothing was covered in stains, and smelled like he hadn’t stepped out of the tavern in months. His face carried a deep frown, gritting his teeth at the company as if they had called his mother a prostitute.

Eric then took the worst time to snark at the man. “Your table’? Is your name written somewhere on it, or something?” he chuckled. It couldn’t have come over any worse.

“Oh, now you’re gonna get it, you BASTARDS!”

The man hit the so-far quiet William square in the mouth, who recoiled heavily to the side as a result. A few blood spatters spread like pollen through the wind onto the table.

“Hey, you son of a bitch, what was that for?” Eric stood up, agitated. Before he knew it, a fist flew at his face. He flung his arm upwards out of instinct. The haymaker connected with his hand, resulting in Eric stepping back from the attack’s sheer force. Sensing weakness, the man began throwing a barrage of punches at Eric, who struggled to block them. Neither so much as paid a passing glance to the gasps and stares from the other patrons.

As Eric’s attempts at blocking turned into vague flailing of his arms, Victor grabbed one of the empty tankards, and struck it down as hard as he could on the back of the man’s head. The man fell over forwards on the stone floor, unconscious. Eric and Victor looked each other in the eyes, their minds trying to process what had transpired.

An eerie silence permeated through the tavern. The bard had stopped playing, and the conversations had quietened down to mere whispers. The other patrons had by now stood up, minds focused on the ruckus. Eric made an erratic gesture with his head at the tavern door, and then to his companions. Both nodded back in acknowledgement, William still holding his hand in front of his sore mouth.

With all eyes directed upon them, the company headed for the door. Eric pressed six ducats into the palm of the bartender as payment for the beers, before leaving the building. Outside, the downpour had thinned down into a slight drizzle. In as fast a tempo possible without raising eyebrows, the company strolled back to Guild Headquarters, mumbling nothing more than an occasional variation of ‘Why did we go to that tavern’ under their breaths.

* * *

As William reached for the handle on the front door, Eric spoke up. “Listen, do not say a word about what happened. To no one. The guildmaster will have our heads if he finds out.”

“Wha-”

“Not now, Victor,” Eric cut off, “The guildmaster is dealing with severe pressure. Now is not the time to get on his bad side, so let’s not. That’s all.” Victor stood confused by Eric's sharp reaction. Pressure? What’s he talking about?

The rest of the day was bizarre in its atmosphere. Neither Victor nor the others had the strength to talk. At dinner, the three couldn't must anything beyond the occasional comment about the taste of the food. A sharp contrast between the vast amounts of conversation across the mess hall, akin to the eye of a hurricane.

As light turned to dark, the three wandered off to their respective quarters. Victor changed his clothes, tucked the amulet back into his bag, and stepped into his bed. From leaving home, to signing up to his dream work, to fighting off an angry drunk, it had been a long day. One which made him wonder what the future would bring, as he drifted off into sleep.