The Legend of Emrys

[Rhaps]

(Author's Note: HAHAHA I'M TRYING TO WRITE AGAIN BAHAHAHA. Title and content subject to change. All of this is purely unedited streams of story from my mind. This is my first completely original work, despite using several names from TFF. Hope you guys enjoy. I'll post as I add to it.)
--
Introduction

It was cold. Everything was dark, deprived of any source of light. The cave in which I stood was rocky, jagged, and rough, but most importantly of all, dark and cold. I stood there, day in and day out, waiting for the light to return. There used to be a hole through which light could shine through, allowing me a small circle of light to enjoy, but it had been sealed for an indiscernible amount of time. Emrys didn't leave me a clock, or anything to reckon time with. All I can remember is him shutting the door at the end of the passage, and then hearing him sealing the hole above me. I pondered why he would leave his best creation alone in the dark, never to move or feel the warmth of life again.
My brothers and sisters were set around the cave in a circle around me, sitting in their own cold darkness for a time exceeding mine. Talcum, Clay, Jade, and Quartz, all stoic and silent. Emrys built me to exceed their limits, but then he sealed me into the same disappointing doom that they had been living with since their replacement was built. I had never gotten to talk to them, but Emrys told me stories of their construction, how they behaved when they were in the light, and then their downfalls and spaces for improvements. Emrys had abandoned us all, but I was left in the light the longest. I stood upon my pedestal with pride for that, but with sadness at the fact that I failed my creator. My head was angled back at hole, frozen there until light may shine through again, longing for it to pour through so that I could remember what it was like to feel life.
In my silent lament I cursed all I held dear, thoughts thrashing and destroying my hopes, my dreams, and worst of all my beliefs in Emrys. I had it in my head that he loved me, like his child. I should have known from how he treated my siblings, however, that that was never really a feasible possibility. During a particularly bad bit of mental anguish and sorrow, something intriguing happened.
Light poured into the cave.
– –
I should apologize, as I can't tell you what happened next at this moment. I fear you'd be horribly lost and confused if I were to just jump in on what happened then without understanding the story of Emrys, his Statues, and how we became sealed within the cave. I'll do my best to tell you his story, since he can't do it for me.

[Rhaps]

Legend speaks of an old empire under the title of Al-ha, which was comfortably placed by the sea. The Al-ha empire was very wealthy, as it was a merchant's nation. Traders from near and far were welcome into the country, so long as they paid a tax to support the empire. In turn, it employed a very small militia, unable to defend the country against a large invasion, but more than able to protect any traveling merchants, caravans, and support a bureaucracy to keep the economy fair and flowing. No other countries dared attack the empire, as they pretty much supplied the entire world with any of their exotic needs. Due to this seemingly perfect system, everyone who lived there said the sun never sets on the Al-ha empire.

Because of its vast wealth, the country was able to maintain a decent realm of land. . It's rule extended well into the plains nearby, but stopped roughly where the mountains began. The plains were lush and grassy, locked in an eternal spring. The only was to discern the season of these time trapped plains was by looking at the flowers that grew there. In the spring, gorgeous flowers of purple bloom grew tall and in vast numbers. Each had a sweet scent that was rumored to remind any person of their first true love, and therefore hint to who your first love may be if you haven't yet met them. These purple flowers, the Amorias, gave way to the summer growth of Koroes. Koroes grew with blooms of bright red, never straying from a palette of shining crimson. Their special scent was a sharp, spicy one, said to insight rage in even the meekest of men. The red bloom of Koroes eventually die out, and in their place grow very wiry, almost pathetic light brown flowers. These were called Sighstocks, since their depressing stature and scent made most people lose interest in whatever they were doing. Lastly, to signal the approach of winter for the surrounding lands, a grey, four petaled flower grows. No one enters the plains when these flowers are in bloom. Since the plains had no seasonal flow of time to naturally enforce a life cycle, it compensated by giving these grey flowers the ability to take the life out of any living creature within three inches of it. The poisonous scent, taste, and touch of the Mortasias was so well respected and feared that the trade capital of the Al-ha empire became separated from the rest of the world during the winter.

The nearest country, Crao, lay beyond the mountains, the Al-Crao high wastes, which were declared as a No Man's Land since they were so treacherous and only traversed by the boldest of tradesmen. Crao was a warrior nation, where a new king was crowned every twenty years. The king was decided by the victor of a vicious tournament in the capital of Porr, in which all males of the Crao nation were required to battle in. Because of their brutal society, the Crao nation often makes a lot of their food and clothing from Koroes petals. This is the only reason they do not engage the Al-ha empire in war, as they know they don't have merchants who can cross the mountains and harvest the Koroes in the summer. Otherwise, the warrior nation was nearly always engaged in some conflict pertaining to conquest or another.

It was in the capital city that Emrys, the young teenager, lived. He was of average height, but a slight bit overweight. His hair was a fiery red colour, about neck length, messy and unkempt. His hair framed his round face well, brown eyes staring complacently forward. His father managed to become a relatively high ranking official in the Royal Army of Crao, not so high ranking that he became a household name, but to the point that he commanded respect for himself and his family. Emrys lived alone for most of the year, despite being only fifteen at the time. His father was deployed in some foreign country or another, and he had never gotten to know his mother. All he knew of her was what his father told him: that she was the most beautiful maiden in the entire Crao nation and territories, and also the most unfaithful.

Emrys never really minded living alone. Having to do mindless labor in order to support himself was a bit of a relief, as he was a pacifist in this nation of fighters. His only educational opportunities would have been to attend the Crao Military Academy, which he and his father both knew he would fail. Being a high ranking soldier, Emrys' father knew war at its worst, and would've launched a thousand raids in order to prevent his son from ever having to witness it, and therefore accepted his pacifism. As long as Emrys was working to do what made him happiest, his father was content. But, a fifteen year old boy rarely has his entire future mapped out, especially when given any option he could desire. So, for that point in time, he just focused on making enough money to last until his father came home on leave, and to compete in the Tournament of the King.
– –

Emrys locked the door behind him as he walked out of his house. Made of red brick, it stood proudly and firmly, two stories in height. To its left was a house of green brick, and to the right one of blue. These three houses were given to Emrys' father and two of the other officers in his squadron by the Royal Army. They were all connected a lawn of red grass, which was beginning to get slightly overgrown, Emrys noticed. Behind the houses was the large stone wall which fortified the city from invaders, still perfectly smooth and flawless on the inside. Emrys set out on a path that connected these three houses to a fountain area, paved with cobblestone. This fountain area was the hub of all of the paths for the district in which he lived, and the path that branched from North of the fountain lead into the city. The red grass was dry and in rough patches, despite being near the fountain. The soil throughout most of the Crao kingdom was of poor quality, which Emrys speculated was the reason it was so dependent on foreign supplies, and therefore so ready to charge in and conquer other nations.

As Emrys walked, lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice a group of three boys his age calling out to him.

“Emrys! Hey, fat boy! Are you deaf?!” shouted the first, a young man named Roy. He was shorter than Emrys, but a lot more muscular. He and his two sycophants, Mark and Andrew, made it their jobs to ensure Emrys was not entirely happy with his life. Roy and Mark lived next door to him, while Andrew lived close by on another path. All of their fathers scorned Emrys' for allowing his boy to be a pacifist and not stay in perfect physique. Sometimes Emrys wondered if their fathers made them harass him, or maybe that they were simply jealous that he had a free life with no one scolding his decisions and ensuring he became what someone else wanted.

“Uh, hello? We're talking to you, you little pig. It's rude to ignore people,” said Andrew, his dark, greasy hair falling well past his eyes.

“I'm the rude one?” queried Emrys, his face turning red, “Did you, or did you not, just call me fat and deaf?”

“It isn't rude to make an observation. In fact, it's key to surviving out on the battlefield. Not that little pigs like you need to know about that sort of thing,”sneered Roy, Mark stifling a chuckle. Mark never was a very well spoken person.

Emrys felt a wave of dread was over him, and wanted to run very badly. But, he remained where he stood; he was a pacifist, not a coward.

Roy ran his hand through his hair, which was a similar shade to Emrys', and said,”How about we give the little pig a lesson in war, eh guys? Since he doesn't go to school, he should learn it somewhere else, right?”

A crooked smile lit up on Mark's face, and Andrew began walking closer towards Emrys, a very peculiar light now in his eyes. Roy cracked his knuckle and began walking towards Emrys as well, the three of them beginning to close in on him.

“Listen, my dad is at the same rank as yours, he'll teach me later, but I, uh, I really need to get to work, okay?” said Emrys in a panic, trying to back up to start walking away. However, the three kept getting nearer to him.

“But he won't be back for a few days, as we all know. Who knows, you might need the knowledge tomorrow,” he Roy said, a smile growing large on his face. He raised his left hand up in the air, and then pointed at Emrys with a swift motion.

Andrew and Mark had Emrys by his arms almost instantly, moving too quickly for Emrys to see how they got so close to him. Roy swaggered and reared his fist back, aiming a blow for Emrys' face.

“If he doesn't know anything about fighting, why does it take three of you to take him on?”

A figure phased into view, standing right behind Roy. Its hand snatched Roy's and then spun it around behind his back, locking him in an arm-bar. Before he knew what was happening, Mark and Andrew were both stricken and lying on the ground next to Emrys. Two more figures then snapped into view, standing about a foot away from Emrys.

That's when it clicked to Emrys just who had come to his rescue; in a city where fighting is the common law, there are no police. So, a band of highly skilled vigilantes formed together, deeming themselves the Rooster Claws. They patrolled the streets using magic from another land that granted them invisibility, working to ensure that the weak are kept safe and the powerful and kept in check. There were about twenty members, excluding the current king, who had won the Tournament twenty years ago.

“Don't worry, kid. These guys won't want to pick on you again for a long time after today,” said Rocky, Roy squirming for freedom, despite it being a futile attempt.

“You should probably get going, if you were heading somewhere. Being late is never a good idea,” said Pete, a comforting smile on his face.

“What if you're late to a dinner, but it turns out someone was trying to kill you, and by being late you missed their assassination attempt?” Asked Chad, his tone making it unable to tell if he was being humorous or serious.

“Man, you're going to make the kid paranoid! Just get going, alright?”
Said Rocky, gesturing for Emrys to be on his way.

“Oh, uh, okay... Uh, thank you! I'm not sure what to do in repayment, but someday I will!” Emrys said, turning and waving goodbye. Setting back down the path, he felt truly indebted to these three strangers. He also felt as if he might actually be able to repay them someday in the future, despite not yet knowing how or when. Regardless, Pete had a point. Emrys wasn't sure of the time, but he was probably going to be late if he dawdled any longer.
– –

[Rhaps]

The shop where Emrys earned his daily bread was in the center of Porr's industrial district. His job was typically simple: take the ingots that the short, stocky man who was named Yarl Spikket cranked out of the furnace, then cart them down the lane to the blacksmith. On occasion he got to work the furnace, trying to make usable ingots, but in order to keep the business afloat, Spikket, the shop master, usually had Emrys carting.

As Emrys entered the shop that day, there were two strangers talking to the master. When he entered, all three of them quit talking and looked over at him. The first stranger looked the second, nodded, then resumed talking to Spikket. Emrys assumed they were simply trying to work a deal to buy his ingots, or perhaps they were working with the local blacksmith. Either way, Emrys didn't care, so long as his job was secure. He walked over to the furnace, put his gloves on, and began moving hot ingots into a steel cart.

“Listen, you can't deny us. You're a lowly ingot maker. We're with the Royal Army. I would advise you start complying,” said the first man, clad in red mail over maroon clothing. His cap had a blood red star on it, indicating his rank. Emrys pondered on how he didn't notice that when he came inside.

“It's not all that much, really. You get to keep your shop. Well, you might. Keeping us waiting is kind of annoying,” said the second. His cap had a blue star on it, showing that he was of lower rank.

Emrys curved an eyebrow in a look of confusion, looking up from the cart and over to the shop master. The master turned and looked at Emrys with a flash of worry, but it quickly dissipated into the same weathered expression that the master typically had. He was trying to keep Emrys from worrying about the situation.

The master raised his voice a bit, saying,“Can't I have a day or two to think on it? I can't just send him on his way like this. He doesn't know about your little loophole yet.”

The high ranking soldier looked to his subordinate, and then smiled coolly.

“Well, I suppose we can allot you a day to talk it out with him. Just one,” he uttered in a very low, almost whispering tone. As soon as the words left his mouth, the subordinate stepped forward and delivered a vicious blow to the Spikket's face, sending him crashing onto the ground.

“That ought to speed up your decision, eh?” laughed the subordinate, turning his back to Emrys and Yarl. The two laughed, and then walked out of the shop.

Emrys stood holding an ingot in his hands, poised to toss it at where the soldiers had stood. The only thing that had held him back from throwing it at them was the fear of making them angry and hurting the master again, or perhaps even striking Emrys. Either way, they had departed, so he put the ingot back in the cart and ran over to Yarl.

“W-what? Who were they? What just happened? Are you alright?!” bombarded Emrys, spewing question after question at the master. He rubbed the top of his head, stood up, and immediately fell back down.

“Don't try to stand, just try to talk, sir.” Emrys said in an urgent tone, leaning back down closer to him.

“Alright, alright. Emrys, do you know anything about politics?”

“No? What dos this have to-”

“Ah ah ah, hold on. To the South of Crao lies a vast, tropical jungle. It's like a forest, but it's hot and has a lot more colours, basically. Beyond this jungle is a nation almost the exact same size as Crao. It's name is Porr.”

“Porr? Isn't that our capital?” Asked Emrys. He felt slightly embarrassed that he didn't have prior knowledge of this, but that's the path he chose.

“Aye,” nodded the master, “Our capital is named Porr because of an old King's susceptibility to a woman. The old stories speak of an old king named Leinos. He ruled Crao many thousands of years ago, but wasn't much different than any of our other kings. It was on a conquest for more wood that lead he and his men into the jungles of the South. Before then, no one had ventured into the trees, let alone find what lay behind them. But, Leinos was a very driven king, and he plunged his squad well beyond the forest. What he found when he broke through the end of the jungle stunned him. Walls rose up before him, the wall posts holding up inverted symbols of Crao. The ground was covered with life, instead of dust and dirt. Struck with curiosity, Leinos ventured up to the walls of this strange, Crao like city and began walking around, trying to find where their main gate would have been. To his surprise and delight, a beautiful woman clad in armor welcomed him at the gate, and bade his men enter.”

“A woman? Wearing armor?” The thought of a female soldier had never crossed Emrys' mind.

“If you think that's strange now, imagine how Leinos felt!” chuckled Spikket, “Alright, alright. Where was I? Oh yes. Leinos and his men entered the city only to find it full of women soldiers. There were a few men about, but it was clear that they held very little power in this society. Leinos was lead up to the central district, where in both Crao and this nation lay the throne. Sitting upon the throne was the most beautiful woman Leinos had ever met. Her hair was snow white, falling just below her ears, clearly cut with a sword. Her eyes were a placid grey, seeming to be eternally melancholy, but they were large and of the perfect shape. According to legend, Leinos noticed a few other features, but I don't believe a boy like you needs to know that part. Anyhow, dumbstruck with beauty and confusion, Leinos tripped up when the Queen of this strange, inverted Crao asked him a question. 'I am Queen Yufina, and I welcome you to my warrior nation of Porr. May I ask what business you and your...men... have here?' Leinos choked out his response, 'I-uh-we're, uh here...to... Propose marriage!' Yufina smiled slyly, while Leinos' men were horribly confused. They thought that they were there to take land. 'How can you be here to propose marriage? Judging from the look on your face, you've never seen this place, or me, before. But, my warriors have been all around the world. It's why we knew to let you through the gate instead of killing you on sight. Your nation is like ours, except ruled by men, no?' Leinos stood speechless, feeling a bit ignorant. 'Well, yes, but-' Yufina raised a hand to silence Leinos, then said 'Listen, we know why you really came here.' As soon as she said this, all of the female warriors unsheathed their swords and closed a circle around Leinos' squad. They were outnumbered five to one, legend says. 'We'll let you go with your lives, provided you do anything I say,' said Yufina, winking. Leinos took this message the wrong way, like almost any man would do, and proceeded to nod vigorously. Yufina giggled, saying 'I like you. You learn very quickly. Send one of your men back to Crao, and tell them to change the capital's name to Porr, showing that my nation has power over yours.' Leinos hesitated, but figured it would be no big deal. He motioned to the quickest man, and he quickly ran past the women wielding swords. 'As for the rest of you,' she said, 'you will get to stay here for the rest of your lives.' The running man made it back to Crao, bearing the news, and the capital was changed immediately, since no one knew that the rest of the men wouldn't return.”

Emrys scratched his head, confused, “Wait. What did that have to do with politics? Or why those guys came here?”

The master waved his hands and said, “Well if you'd let me finish! Some say that king Leinos was killed after his messenger left. Some think he was left in a dungeon to rot. Point is, Leinos never made it back home to Crao. However, he left a wife and child behind before he left. Leinos wasn't the most faithful man,” he chuckled at this, then resumed, “So, the boy grew up, and propagated his line. Our current king, Meier, has recently learned that he is a descendant of Leinos. So, he launched a campaign to march through the jungles of the South, invade Porr, and rename our capital and theirs. Kind of petty, but who is going to question the greatest of all warriors?”

Everything was starting to click for Emrys, and his stomach started to knot. He knew that his father would probably be on the front line in that jungle.

“Those guys were from the Royal Army. There's been an act passed that requires any youth working in the crafting or industrial sectors to be drafted and work for the military. You're on the draft list, kid,” said the master, looking saddened.

Emrys was horribly confused, and worried, piping up, “Wait! My father is a high ranking officer, so that makes me exempt from any Royal Drafts!”

“...Your father is dead, Emrys. They found him entangled in some vines halfway into the forest, his throat slashed. Some suspect traitors looking to gain rank.”

The sudden cruelty of those words collapsed Emrys' heart and mind. Darkness grew on the corners of his vision, and he felt himself fall, the darkness overtaking his eyes.

[Rhaps]

He awoke in a bed, just upstairs from where he had fallen. His head was spinning, the thoughts racing as though he had just escaped a very bizarre dream. He looked to the left and right, the shop master nowhere to be found. As soon as Emrys recalled the events, a waft of dread overtook him.

“Is my father really dead...?”

“Who is going to take care of me?”

“Where am I going to be sent to?”

“Does my mother know, whoever she is?”

The questions ripped Emrys' mind asunder, leaving him to crash back into his pillow. As he lay there, tears beginning to roll down his face, the shop master returned to the room, a kettle of tea in his hands. Emrys hadn't noticed the cup set beside him, nor did he really care. Tea was the last thing he wanted on his mind.

“This tea was ground on an anvil and boiled with the fires of sword tempering! It'll give you a good manly kick!” Yarl said, trying to cheer Emrys up. It didn't work.

“I don't care about the stupid tea. I understand that you want me to feel better, but there's a lot going on in my mind right now. Just resume where you left off.” The shock had left Emrys in the worst state of sadness he had ever felt, but strangely, it dissolved into apathy. All he wanted to do was figure out where to go next, then sleep.

“Well, alright then. In light of your father's passing, you've been drafted to serve as a craftsman. You'll be taken to a shop for training, after which you'll be sent out to a mobile factory. Any education you need will be provided. All you've got to bring is your hands,” the master said, holding up his old, cracked hands to emphasize, “and perhaps a less cynical mood, my boy.”

“I'm not your boy. You seem to be very easy going about this whole thing,” Emrys said, not really thinking anymore. The first words in his head were the first words out.

“Well I hope you'll still remember your old shop master when you make it big out there,” he said with a wan smile, “I'm just trying to do my best for you. Your father was an admirable man, and I served as his personal smith for years. I started my career the same way you are.” A tear rolled down the master's cheek, and he said, “My dad died too, except on the day after my draft notice came in. I know what you're feeling. It'll pass. You'll find that everything does, Emrys. Just keep your head up high. I know you're going to go far.”

Emrys' dazed mind took every word in and trapped it. Although he tried to feign apathy on the outside still, it had been crushed under the master's relations. Emrys really was going to miss him once he was off to whatever camp he was going to.

“Maybe we'll meet again. Not too hard to keep in touch these days,” Emrys said, drifting back off to sleep. His head couldn't take anymore emotional tempering.
– –

The uniform fit strangely.

As expected, the two officers returned the next day, and in his depressed state, Emrys went with no fuss. He bade Yarl farewell, and went off with the men into Porr's military district. There, he was taken into a large building made of steel, and told to fill out some paperwork. Despite being uneducated, Emrys still had basic literacy taught to him by his father. Once the papers were filled, he was given an ensign's uniform. It was a basic red jumpsuit made of tough cloth, with one pin on the lapel to indicate his low rank. He felt out of place wearing it. Once in uniform, Emrys walked back out into the center of the building, which was bustling with activity. A short man wearing the same uniform as the red capped soldier who visited Yarl's shop approached Emrys.

“Oi, I presume you're that Emrys boy, no? The one with no last name listed?” he rasped in a strange accent.

“Er, yes. That would be me.”

“'De uniform suits you, boy. I worked wiv your father back in 'de day. 'E never told me why 'e didn't 'ave a last name, and I don't reckon ye'd know either. Awl that aside, you'll be training in t' be a craftsman, not a soldier. We need more production to keep 'de army afloat, y' know?”

Emrys felt a bit happier for the first time since he left the shop. He wouldn't have to fight after all, and this strange talking man knew where he was coming from.

“Yeah, yeah! I know what you mean. What's your name, sir?” Emrys asked the man, feeling his intrigue returning along with his other normal emotions.

“'De name's Olberon Dolandric, and I'll be showin' ye how to be a blacksmith. Once we find me other two apprentice's, we'll head on over to the shop so you all can get settl'd in. Tomorrow, we start the learnin'.”

“Do you know what they look like?” Emrys asked, looking around curiously for whom he'd be staying with soon. He was hoping he might finally make friends his own age.

Olberon snickered, saying, “I ain't got any idea what they're lookin' like. I know one is a girl, and 'de other is damn near a man. Granted, they're both your age, but I was forewarned that 'de second boy would be an ox of a guy.”

As soon as Olberon finished his sentence, a tank of a boy exited a room next to where Emrys emerged from. He wore the same ensign uniform, except his was more suited to his large, muscular stature. He had straight, black hair that was cut short.

Olberon piped up, “Oi! Big man! Your name Khelov Racksch? “

Khelov turned his head towards Olberon, and then lumbered over to him.

“Yeah. That's me. Why do you ask?” he said in a slow, deep voice.

“You've struck lucky! You ain't goin' out to war, boy, you're joinin' me and this young man 'ere in the crafts industry. You've also got one more companion, provided I can find 'er. He's Emrys, by the way.”

Khelov looked at Olberon, then Emrys, then back to Olberon.

“Okay.” he said. Emrys noted that Khelov was probably a man of few words. While Emrys was trying to assess what kind of person Khelov was from his eight words, something caught his attention from the corner of his eyes. His felt his face flush, but still turned his head to observe what he saw.

A truly beautiful girl walked elegantly out of a third room. Her uniform fit her perfectly, fitting her frame to each curve and line. Her eyes filled Emrys with a feeling of phantasmagoria, a pale blue at the moment, but Emrys had heard from his father that any woman who struck his heart would have eyes that change in different lights. Her blond hair was cut to fall a bit below her shoulders, each strand seeming perfect to Emrys. He was stricken, but he quickly tried focusing. He had no experience with girls, and didn't want to ruin everything before he even knew her name. She might not even be in his crafting class. He turned back to Khelov, who he also noticed was staring at the girl, his dull eyes seeming to allude to the same emotions Emrys felt.

“My first rivalry?” Emrys thought to himself.

“'Ere we go! Yeka Rinshuk?” Olberon shouted, trying to get the girl's attention. She turned, smiling a heart melting smile, and then began walking towards the group.

“Awlright! I'm three fer three today! Eh heh heh. Welcome to our unit. We're gonna be learning how to be blacksmiths to help support the army. This tank 'ere is Khelov, and this fiery headed boy is Emrys. I'm Olberon, and I'll be your master.” He said.

“Oh! Sounds like fun!” Yeka said, smiling brightly, unknowingly stunning Emrys again. Olberon motioned for them to follow him, and he lead them out of the building and down the streets of the military district. Once they had gone a few buildings down, Olberon stopped and opened one up.

“Welcome home, lads.”

Khelov was the first to go through, followed by Emrys, and then Yeka. It was a decently sized area, coloured a simple green with no portraits, a bed oddly placed in the right corner, a set of stairs to the second level, and two doors leading to rooms that no one but Olberon knew of yet.

“Awlright, two of you 'll sleep upstairs, and one o' ye will be sleepin' down 'ere. 'De door straight ahead and to 'de left is my quarters, the one to 'de right is the shop area,” said Olberon, pointing to each part that he mentioned.

“I'll stay down here.” Khelov said in a low voice.

“Wonderful! I 'ad a feelin' ye would,” Olberon said, patting Khelov on the back. Emrys was somehow annoyed by this. Khelov hadn't done a single wrong doing to Emrys, and yet, Emrys felt like he was a threat.

“Emrys, Yeka, ye two can 'ed upstairs and get settled. 'S just one big room up there, but there's two beds. Restrooms are upstairs as well. It's rather late, so we'll get wiv 'de learnin' come sunrise. Ye ain't gotta worry about sleepin' in 'round here. Old Olberon 'as his tricks,” he said, a toothy smile in his mouth.”

It seemed Yeka preferred to follow, since Emrys was yet again the first to head upstairs. The room upstairs was blue, probably painted with the intent of sleep. It was the same size as the room below, but seemed much larger, since the only things in it were two beds on opposite ends.

“Well, goodnight, um, Emrys, was it?” Yeka said, catching Emrys off guard. His face turned red as red as his hair.

“Oh! Um, yeah! My name is Emrys. Uh, goodnight, uh, Yeka, right?”

“Mmhm, you got it,” she said with a wink. Emrys thought his heart was going to explode. He tried not to stare at here and make things awkward by lying down in the bed on the left hand side of the room, turning over, and feigning sleep.

An hour or two went by and he didn't have to feign it anymore.
– –

[Rhaps]

Solid darkness encased Emrys. Nothing was visible, as though he were blind. He could feel that he was sitting down, and that he was in an open space. Terror began to shear through his gut, and he began turning his head to try and find light, or some way out of this terrible darkness. Panicking, he tried to stand, but being disoriented in the darkness, he fell back down nigh instantly.

Something laughed at him from inside the darkness.

– –

Emrys woke up from his nightmare coated in sweat. The sun was just beginning to rise, and it seemed everyone else was still sleeping. He chose to lie in bed and wait, rather than wake everyone else up. He refused to go back to sleep, though, preferring to die rather than relive that experience. He didn't need to wait long, as Olberon came into the loft, a hammer and a crude shield equipped. The shield was a dull grey, pocked with dents and scratches, the hammer faring no better. The smith smashed them together, producing a loud ringing noise, which scared Yeka out of her slumber. She had considerable bedhead, but Emrys found her beautiful nonetheless, her lovely eyes glancing towards him, captivating every thought he had. She scratched her head and bade Emrys good morning, then looked at Olberon with a look of disdain.

“I hope you won't be doing that every morning,” she said curtly.

“Nah, jus' till you fellows get the routine. Emrys seems to already 'ave it down!” Olberon replied, motioning towards the wide awake boy. Yeka did not seem impressed.

Khelov trudged upstairs, scratching the back of his head, still half asleep. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah there boy. No need to get all 'Yarr there be intruders!' on ol' Olberon, heh.” Olberon looked around at the room and its inhabitants, looked thoughtful for a moment, then clapped his hands as if he remembered something.

“Right-o! Tournament of the King is comin' up fast, ain't it? So, let's set our first
deadline. Yeka, by that day, I want a spade. Khelov, a war hammer. Emrys, deliver me a sword. They ain't gotta be fancy, and I'm not expectin' them to be sturdy. A rough draft, if you will. We'll begin learning today, and by the day of the Tournament in about two weeks. Once you each hand in your items, I'll take you all down to Central, and we'll watch the brawl as a class! Sound good?”

It did indeed sound good to Emrys, his interest peaked. He already knew how to
make ingots, which was the first step. He had the leg up on Khelov after all!

But what if Khelov was a shop-boy too?

– –

He was not. By the time that the three had finished making their ingots, it was clear who had experience and who did not. Emrys' weren't perfect, and only a grain in quality above Yeka's, but both of theirs were vastly grander that Khelov's semi-destroyed block of iron.

“Ye might want to work on 'at, boy,” Olberon said, looking rather concernedly at the half-ingot. Khelov shrugged, and said, “I'm new to this. My shop keeper didn't let me practice anything but carting, and I don't have much talent.”

“Oh, don't worry about it Khelov! I don't have any talent either! I just happened to get lucky,” Yeka replied with a gigantic smile. He hadn't even gloated, and yet Emrys felt like he had done something shameful by making the top quality product.

“That's a...new perspective on thing, I s'pose. I wouldn't take it further 'n that, however. Anyway, we'll use the rest of the day practicin' our ingot skills. Ingots are used in smithing as the base product of everything,” Olberon began rambling on about the importance of fundamental skills and how they would all come into play, but Emrys already knew what he would be saying. He had hoped things would stay that predictable in the aims of coming off as well learned, but unfortunately, the world doesn't function on such innocent principles.
– –