[N] [Untitled Fantasy Story]

[Realms]

Just right of the bat, I want to give a little warning here. I was going for the depth and the experience her, something different from the common short story in most forums. So let me know what you guys thing and all. This is just the prologue and I plan to make the chapters even longer, so it will be constant updates, but not extremely often because of the length. Hopefully some people will like it.

EDIT: Sorry about the formatting, for some reason the paragraph indent didn't work.

Prologue

He outstretched his finger to the new born, its feeble hands maintaining a surprisingly strong grip on his index finger. A warm smile came onto his face, warming through his whole body. His eyes glared in the dim candlelight of the room, one oddly different from the other, almost with a different glow. It was a surprisingly strange feeling, another life gripping to his for safety, for relief. Yet his fate was sealed, and the only thing he could do was to guarantee a better fate for those around him.
As gently as he could, he picked up the newborn boy with his rugged hands and placed him into a handmade basket. Carefully placing the basket onto his back, the man slipped on his hood, covering his face and the glare of his eyes. One last look at the lifeless body of a woman in front of him, the one who sacrificed her life for another, replacing the old with the new, and he was out of the room.
The gentle breeze of the night drew his clothes back a little, but his hood stayed on. The city was dark, if not accounting for a couple of lamps hanging over various Inns, attracting both customers and bugs with their mysterious gleam glare. The city was near silent, the only noise that could be heard in the distance was the metal clanging of the armor hitting the ground. The Guard of the Thirteen Cities was closing in on him. He could see their torches illuminate various sections of the city, as they got closer. There was very little time.
His feet carried him from roof to roof with the little babe on his back. His acrobatics were unmatched within the Thirteen Cities and he knew it. The immediate goal was to put as much distance between himself and the Guard as fast as possible. Clear and make his way to the forest, there he could hope to break the line of sight, but in the well lit city, with guards stationed all over, he barely stood a chance.
The noises below him alerted him that he was noticed. Probably some citizen, with aspirations for being a good samaritan became puzzled by the strange noises on the roof. The Guard would be alert of his position soon enough. As his feet carried him from roof to roof, his mind was focused strictly on the bundle of life on his back, on its survival and its chance at a fair life without the anticipation of each chase, without guessing which one day would be its last.
The Guard calculated his position faster than he though and the streets below him lit up with torch fire. They were tracking his position from the ground up, waiting for him to make a mistake, a wrong step. Apparently, they were not aware of whom Q’uait Desmond was, or of his acrobatic abilities, a mistake they were expecting would not happen. Even the arrows that the archer garrison was firing at him now wouldn’t help. As long as he could remain within a little bit of a shadow, he would not be caught; it was his domain.
The baby on his back barely reacted to the events around it. It seemed like the child’s mind interpreted the series of events around it as an innocent dream, as a newborn’s first fantasy. Its head peacefully peeked from the top of the basket into the night, into the guards that were so eager to dispose of its escort.
As the line of houses thinned, the leaps became more agile, Q’uait kept to his toes, never fully touching the bottom of his feet to the roofs beneath them. He had the forest in sight, and the Guard of the Thirteen on his back, slightly behind. The final leap thrust him into the middle of the forest. It was his luck that the City of Aer’lon was right in the midst of a thick forest. Perhaps the trolls would get him, or the murderous pillagers of the woods, but Q’uait had to make it to the river, not so much for him, but for Aisling, for his child.
As he landed on the branch, his body quickly and silently dropped onto the ground, toes touching on the soft grass. The hood slid off his head as he turned to face the closing guards, his left eye gave out a golden gleam and his feet carried him into the midst of the dark and treacherous Dark Hollowing Forest, as it was known around these parts.
The guards behind him were spreading around, attempting to cover the majority of the forest. They were very persistent on not letting him get away, and so he heard they’ve had a group of trackers from the North with them. This wouldn’t be easy, but still his feet carried him towards the river, through the dark as if it was broad daylight, without a single missed step. His head did not turn around any more, his ears would determine how close his pursuers were, and judging by their frantic yells, they were still a little bit behind, giving Q’uait some time.
As he made it towards the river, the trackers seemed to catch his trail, the guards where closing in on him. He quickly removed the basket from his back and kneeled beside the river. He looked at the baby, his right eye tearing, drops quietly falling onto the water current. His lips softly touched the child’s forehead and then Q’uait released the child into the river. He made sure the basket would float away, and there weren’t too many strong currents for a while, it would most likely be noticed by morning.
As the current carried the basket away, Q’uait stood up straight, his posture now perfect. The noises of the Guard got closer and closer, yet he didn’t turn. His eyes were fixed on the fading trail of his child, guiding him safely into the cover of the night.
“The famous Q’uait Desmond,” he heard a coarse voice behind him, “I cannot believe I am on of the very few honored ones within the Thirteen Cities who gets to look you in the face, and more importantly into the eyes.”
“You flatter yourself too much Captain,” Q’uait slowly turned around to face his captors, “I am not that special, and my name only brings tremor and fear to merchants and lords of the Thirteen Cities, but never beyond.”
“That may be so, but you are still the thief king of this territory, even though your own guild has abandoned you years ago, leaving you to your own devices.”
“Is this what you wanted from me captain?” Q’uait crossed his arms, relaxing his posture, the end was near, “to share with me my own exploits. Because I doubt her Highness approves such use of her most elite and renounced Guard.”
“Your tongue tries to pierce as much as your blade Q’uait.”
“More often than my blade Captain.”
“Enough!” The captains face lit up with anger, scorching red now, piercing Q’uait with his eyes, “are you willing to surrender, or shall I, as the highest commanding officer of the Guard of the Thirteen Cities in Aer’lon bring your fate to you much quicker than any court?”
Q’uait did not say a single word after that last speech. His hand calmly went down towards his waste, reaching for the pure black handle, encrusted with a black diamond, one of the few of its kind. The blade was smaller than an average sword, and had a slight curve, barely noticeable by the untrained eye. The steel was stainless and the fire of the many torches’ surrounding Q’uait, reflected within it. His body bent as he readied for the attack. His acrobatic skills weren’t his only asset.
The Captain of the Guard did not wait for further invitation as both hands gripped at his special sword, the handle marked by the emblem of the Thirteen Cities, as well as the stamp of the ruler of Aer’lon. His strikes were violent and fast. He wielded the giant sword entrusted to him by the Guard as if it was a light stick, swiftly swinging it back and forth, yet not one strike reached it’s destination.
Q’uait shifted himself to parry every one of the strikes. Not to leave the Captain to desperate, he grazed the blade of the sword with his own. Ducking under one of the moves, he pulled out a small, simple dagger and with a spin plunged it right in between the Captain’s ribs, through the crack in the armor. He encountered the Guard many times before, and there was a reason he was yet to be caught by them. He knew every weakness they’ve had. Including the weak points of their armor, the small crack right besides the ribs, where with enough pressure, one could deliver a deadly strike with a proper blade.
As the captain collapsed, Q’uait tried to back away only to find himself constrained by an invisible force. He knew that the guard would not come after him without a mage or a wizard. A white bearded figure came out from the shadows of the Guard’s archers and swordsmen. His hand was up, and extended towards Q’uait who could not even open his mouth, constrained by the unnoticed power.
“This is where it ends Q’uait Desmond,” the wizard spoke softly, before he turned to the Captain lying on the ground, “tend to his wounds. I will make sure that the account of today and the news of his inadequacy reach the proper ears.”
As the wizard released his hands, archers that were aiming directly at Q’uait released their grip and the sharp tips breached the feeble fabric of Q’uait’s clothing, burrowing directly into his body. As he fell to the ground, the old man picked up both his sword and dagger, putting them into a his belt.
“Bring the body,” he spoke to the Guard, “I want the eye.”

***

The sun pierced the sky with the first rays, illuminating the lonely hut on the bank of the river. It slowly crept into the house through the windows, reaching the eyes of a sleeping man within. The morning motions were slow and felt forced, as if the sun was an unwelcome visitor in this house. The man quickly made his way outside, starting a small fire to make some breakfast. Fish scales fell beside the fire as the man grazed his knife at the side of a dead fish, before frying it for food.
The food from the town would get here soon enough, it was only thirty minutes walk, and the deliveries started at the first rays of the sun. By then it would be best to have some work done anyways. The man got up and walked to the back of the house, on the riverbank. Quickly he started to tie up the remainder of the “butchered” wood together, neatly stacking it into an already substantial pile.
In the midst of his work, the man looked up the river, wiping sweat from his forehead. Something floating in the current caught his attention. Could be a small log, could be something else. He slowly walked towards the water, picking up a stick with a metal hook on the end. As the object passed, he reeled it, making sure that it wouldn’t float away. His intuition was right again, as he was now staring at a small baby inside a handmade basket. Reaching down, he removed a small piece of paper tucked into the sheets wrapped around the baby. With shaking hands, he unfolded the paper to see the handwritten message.

Whoever this might be, I ask for your aid. It would probably be to my benefit to conceal my real identity, but my code follows honesty and sincerity. My name is Q’uait Desmond, otherwise known as the king thief in the Thirteen Cities, even though I do not hold such a title. This is my only child, Aisling,. I understand that the Guard of the Thirteen Cities would most definitely reward anyone who exposes my offspring but I am hoping your good will. The hierarchy of the Thirteen Cities has been a leech to its inhabitants, draining it of all life and possessions, concentrating unbelievable power within their grasp. I have hid some gold and jewels within this basket, surely, the Thirteen City will offer you more, but I cannot. I beg you to take care of my son, my only task since his birth was to ensure his survival, and I ask you to do the same.

Q’uait Desmond

Underneath the signature, there was another mark, a dark red stamp. It was common practice among many thieves to stamp their letters with their blood, to verify secrecy and identity, Q’uait was no exception. The stamp portrayed a crossed dagger and a long blade, the identical images of those he used in a fight. The stamp seemed to be recent, and done with quickness and not quality in mind. The blood was smudged in a number of places, and quite dry. The handwriting was hectic, it was clear that this was written with haste.
The man looked away from the letter and into the child’s face. Aisling opened his eyes, looking straight into the man’s face who found himself drowning in the light blue ocean of Aisling’s gaze. Picking up the basket, he carried the child into the house, not even bothering to check whether there was truly compensation at the bottom of the basket. The carrier would be here soon, he still had work to do.

[sarah042]

A fantastic read, the prologue was long but enthralling with its plot. I am extremely interested in reading more. It seems like you spent a lot of time developing the plot and that reflects within your post. As for the longer chapters it doesn't matter the length just the quality, judging from what I've read you already have that. You managed to give nice background information without giving away anything, nicely done.

[4thseal]

Yeah, this was really well written! What a first post my friend, and i hope you do not become a stranger around these parts^^. From the first line, and boy it was a good first line, I was drawn into the story. You style is quite good and your attention to detail shows. You've done a lot of good things with this intro, especially painting a scene rather than simply providing back story. I appreciate this, and the whole tale is very fasinating. I too would like to read more and look forward to your presence in this section!

Edit: Almost forgot, please see this thread and edit your first post accordingly ^^

New Labeling System

[Martzu]

I so hope you will continue this story. I want to desperately know what will happen to Aisling. Thank you for sharing ^^

[Realms]

Thanks for the comments, Chapter 1 is coming along slowly, but I will try to finish up before the end of the week, because thats when I loose access to my computer, and don't regain it until about the 30th.

[Martzu]

That is good news for me. But I can wait longer too if forced.

[Realms]

Took a while because once my computer got unhooked I couldn't open any files on there and had to recreate a bit on the laptop. I think the quality may have dropped a bit, which I will definitely try and pick up during the second chapter

The sun crept in through the windows, stretching through the room all the way up to the bed. It was later than it seemed just around noon, the blinds now apart, letting the rays in. The child who was still in bed, turned around, pulling a thing blanket over his head to combat the incoming distraction of the outside light. His whole body tensed up, combating his mind in a game of wits, one wanted to get up, the other one didn’t.
“Aisling,” an elderly female voice came in from the other side of the house, “it is time to wake up, your brother is already up and running around. You should join him.”
“Mom,” Aisling turned, raising his voice and forcing his eyes open, “I don’t like playing with them, they always pretend to be the Royal Guard, I just find it stupid.”
“Even so, you should get up and go outside now, no use of wasting your time lying here. Aisling, this is not how I raised you, you have to be active if you want a chance in something.”
“Yes mother,” he lazily picked his body up and headed outside quickly.
Reaching into the river, Aisling dipped his hands into the cold current and brought them up to his face. The chilling touch of the cold water almost froze his face. He could feel the burst of energy rush through his face, waking him up completely. Standing up, Aisling looked up at the sun, slightly shielding the brightness away from his eyes, but starting straight into the bright disk.
“Come eat,” a pleasant female face peeked out of the house, “you need your energy.”
Aisling turned around and ran towards the house. A small puddle was in the ground, right in front of the house. A small acrobatic move carried him straight off the puddle and landed him on his toes in front of the door. Jumping forward, Aisling quickly cleared the door way and found himself in the small wooden chair in front of the table.
“There you go,” his mother placed a small plate in front of him with a glass of water and utensils.
“Thanks mother,” Aisling said, turning his attention fully to food.
“You should still go with your brother,” she spoke as he ate, “its good for you, you know, all of that exercise. Besides, its an important time for him right now you know.”
“Every year is an important time in a young man’s life,” Aisling smiled, looking up from the food.
“Yes,” she smiled, gently touching his face, “but this year is more important than others. Every five years a trading caravan passes through our village, and it is accompanied by a number of the members of the Guard of the Thirteen Cities. It is during one of the days that they hold certain examination processes, selecting a few boys for their academy.”
“So Estird’s dream may actually come true now.”
“Not unless he trains with the help of his little brother.”
“I am only two years younger, and even so, I never liked the idea of being the ‘rugged warrior’ that the Guard of the Thirteen Cities prides itself on maintaining.”
“Go Aisling,” his mother spoke, picking up the empty dish and the glass, “you never play the guard roles anyways.”
Aisling looked into his mother’s face, musing at the weirdly warm smile she radiated. Somehow she always knew what was going through his mind. He got up, wrapping his hands gently around his mother, accepting a quick kiss on the forehead. After that, he got up, moving out of the house with certain determination. Once outside, he looked around, making sure that no one would see him, especially his mother, he didn’t want to make her worry for no reason.
As quickly as he dodged the puddle his hands and feet carried him to the roof of his house. Gently landing on his toes and on the edges of the roof, not to disturb his mother for no reason at all. Aisling moved from the roof to the tree branches, moving from one to the other. He used his toes to land gently on the branches at one place, grabbing them and swinging forth at the others. It felt exhilarating to travel at such heights, as well as a more efficient way to travel.
After a while, Aisling found himself on the edge of forest, looking over an open field. A group of children in the field playing around with wooden swords and shields. The children were involved in a skirmish and one of them seemed to be winning over the rest. Aisling took a deep breath, recognizing his brother in the distance and jumped out to the grass. A swift fall brought his toes down into the soft, fresh grass.
As he landed, his feet carried him towards the imaginary battlefield. He quickly picked out which kids were supposed to be the Royal Guard, and which ones had the unfortunate luck of being the various criminals of the Thirteen Cities. The older kids usually ended up playing the guard, mostly because it was them that attempted to impress the recruiters during the trading caravan visit, while the younger ones had to wait for another five years.
Thrusting himself in the middle of the battle field, Aisling pulled out a slender cut wooden short blade from behind his belt. Quickly coming between the first ‘criminal’ and his attacker, Aisling went towards the older kid, ducking straight under the slow swing and rolling behind the kid. Once there, he dipped his shoulder and his wooden blade into the kids ribs, forcing him to the ground.
A few seconds later he brought two more opponents down with quick movements. Hearing the menacing sound of footsteps from behind, Aisling bent his knees jumping high in the air and flipping backwards. Once on the ground he planted his foot onto the opponents back, pushing him straight into the crowd of two ‘thieves’.
“Well, well, well,” he heard a familiar voice from behind, “you finally wake up little brother? Nice of you to join us.”
“You know I would not miss this kind of entertaining battle,” he smiled at Estird, “besides, I could not accept such an injustice from the Royal Guard, picking apart the defenceless citizens of the Thirteen Cities.”
“Watch your mouth, for I can leave you as blooded as the scum you see around you,” Estird was getting incredibly involved in his role.”
“In the name of the King brother?” Aisling laughed a little, darting off his feet to Estird’s side.
Both brothers were the most skilled out of the chaotic crowd of the kids. Estird stood most of the chance to be selected for the Academy, to be one of the few that had the honour of stepping through the academy gates. Aisling on the other hand, desired no such honour, but he learned to handle himself in battle for such skills were in high demand in the Thirteen Cities, even outside the Guard.
The flurry of hits from Estird forced Aisling backwards into his defensive stance. The massive wooden sword of his older brother was much heavier than the skinny dagger like short-sword that Aisling carved out with high care. His defensive manoeuvres boiled down to skilful dodging, rather than blocking. Ducking under another high swing, Aisling stuck out his foot to trip Estird who jumped over the trip, sticking out his knee.
Feeling the hard hit to his eye, Aisling rolled backwards, getting back on his feet quickly, just to face Estird rushing at him. With a quick kick, Aisling kicked up the dirt from the ground straight into his opponent’s face. As Estird stalled, Aisling quickly manoeuvred himself around the back. As Estird came around, Aisling shoved his wooden short-sword into his back, pushing his opponent forward onto his face.
“It is done,” he spoke looking down at his older brother, “I believe that the honest people of the Thirteen Cities win.”
“In an honest fight,” Estird smiled, getting up, “you wouldn’t stand a chance little brother.”
“No point in me fighting fair then brother,” Aisling smiled, helping his brother up, “I think it is time for a rest.”
“To the lake then?” Estird looked to the surrounding kids, “shall we?”
He shot off an almost discreet smile to one girl in the crowd. The girls usually watched the battles while accepting the warmth of the sun, getting some rest before going to the fields to work with their mothers. The cheerful crowd of kids ran for the lake quickly through the fields. Aisling was the only one to stay behind. As everyone cleared the field heading towards the lake, he made his way to the edge of the forest into which the kids disappeared and made his way up to the high branches before resuming in the same direction as the rest of his friends. This last week before the trading caravan’s visit was going to be interesting.

***

The streets of the small village filled with market displays, the rich dresses of the traders coloured the otherwise dull and dirty streets. The shining silver armour of the Guard of the Thirteen Cities decorate the passages between the trading set-ups. A couple of mages could be seen on the surroundings, overseeing the proceedings. More of the guard were setting up a training area on the side of the village, in preparation for the upcoming selection process.
Aisling was sitting on a branch, next to one of the young girls, overseeing the whole circus, the crowd of people jumping from place to place measuring up all of the good with their eyes. It was really arbitrary as most of the village could barely afford most of the merchandise that was offer, but they still looked around, somehow it made them feel closer to those who inhabited the Thirteen Cities.
“I am hungry,” the girl said looking down at the market, “I would love an apple.”
“All you have to do is ask,” Aisling smiled, spotting a fruit merchant in the distance, and a jeweller set up right beside each other.
“But how,” she looked at him, “the Guard is overlooking the market, there is no way that we can get anything from them, and I do not have any coins.”
“Just ask,” Aisling said, smiling.
“Can you please get me an apple,” the girl giggled at him, turning away. When she turned back he was already gone off the branch, making his way towards the market.
On his way, Aisling noticed two more kids standing close to the gates, looking at all of the passer bys. He tapped one of the boys on the shoulder seamlessly, and both of them followed him. Making his way in the feet of the crowds, three boys made their way towards the fruit merchant. As they passed one of the set ups, Aisling kicked out one of the support wooden pillars, causing the tent to fall down, causing a miniature chaos, and attracting some of the nearby Guard.
One of the boys ducked under the tent as it was falling, and the Guard was now getting their hands on him. Aisling and the other boy made their way towards the fruit baskets, where one of the kids started to fill his bag with fruit, not trying to be discreet at all, but rather asking to get caught, almost making eye contact with the merchant.
As the elderly scream of the wealthy man serenaded through the market grounds, Aisling used the distraction to move. He picked up three apples into his sack when all eyes were turned away, and headed out of the market right past the tent with all of the jewels, almost unattended. No one in the small villages ever visited tents like these, the cost was too high for the simple workers.
Making his way through the market grounds, Aisling quickly went behind the tents, avoiding most of the commotion. Quickly, he planted his foot on the top of the temporarily constructed fence. In one leap he reached one of the higher branches, climbing right back up to the same branch where it all started. Planting himself beside the girl, he reached inside his pouch and pulled out an apple, stretching it out in the open palm.
“Thanks,” the girl spoke, taking the apple, slightly shy in her movements.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled, pulling out two more and stretching them out to her, “some for the future.”
As he finished his sentence, Aisling moved away to another branch, moving as agile as before towards his house with a quick detour. Right before his home came into view, Aisling made his way down to the ground, once again planting himself on the soft ground. Just to find his neck threatened by a wooden sword.
“You are good my brother,” Estird smiled, “but I know you better than most. Maybe this time you will give me a fair fight.”
“Not likely,” Aisling smiled.
As he moved, he wrapped the straps of his sacks around his brothers sword, pulling it low to the ground and rendering it useless for a moment. At the same moment he stepped on the wooden blade, breaking it in half, and jumping over his brother, just to bump into the metal armour of the Guard.
“You must be Aisling,” a rugged voice spoke to him, “you mind I see what is in that bag?”
Aisling looked up to face the bearded face, menacing him with a threatening look. Aisling looked around spotting more of the Guard around. It seemed that his brother was loosing the concept of a fair challenge as well. He quickly counted three extra guards around the area. Without a shadow of doubt, Aisling jumped towards his brother, planting his foot on Estird’s shoulder. Using that as his launch pad, Aisling jumped onto the shoulder of the bearded man, before launching his body up into the brunches.
The commotion ensued underneath, as the Guard did not expect such a movement from him. Aisling made his way through the branches straight into the deep of the forest. As he took to another one of his leaps, Aisling’s body collided midair with something, rather someone else. Both bodies flew downwards before hitting the ground. Aisling’s back hit the ground and the pain spread through most of his body. The dark figure got up, taking of the hood and revealing a rugged face. The man was clean shaven with long black hair and a scar over his left eye.
“Going somewhere,” he looked at Aisling, “I would suggest you return what you have stolen.”
“Unfortunately,” Alsing got up slowly, “I do not know what you’re talking about.”
“That is a shame,” the man spoke, “because they say otherwise.”
Aisling turned his head to follow the man’s gaze just to face the four members of the Guard and his brother coming fast towards him. The look on the bearded man’s face communicated nothing but rage. He was never fooled like he was before, not by a child in any case. He quickly closed the distance between him and Aisling with gigantic leaps, grabbing the child by his hand and ripping his bag away from him.
“Let us see,” he spoke turning the sack upside down and allowing all of its contents to spill out, yet nothing fell out. “What is this?!” he was enraged, throwing the bag at Estird.
“Allow me,” the child smiled, reaching into the back, “can I bother one of you for a dagger?”
Accepting a weapon from the cloaked man, Estird reached inside the bag with it, cutting a small incision in the bottom of the bag. Turning it over again, he allowed two necklaces and one ring to hit the dirt before throwing the bag back to the bearded man.
“Well,” the man spoke, a wicked smile now on his face, “It appears that we have a thief in our hands men. I believe there should be a suitable punishment somewhere in my mind for this kind of crime.”
Aisling tried to twist his hand only to get it bent back by the man, almost breaking a bone or two. The sheer strength with which the beast of a man twisted his hand almost ripped it away at the shoulder. A strong move from the man and Aisling found himself on the ground, face planted into the dirt, his nose inducing the pleasant smell of the autumn ground.
“Not so rash Brandimir,” the cloaked man spoke over the authority of the Guard, “I can think of a more suitable fate for this child. He is far too young to face the punishments conceived by your uncreative and closed mind.”
“What would you propose instead Ermir?”
“Perhaps this boy’s skills can be put to use for the Thirteen cities,” he spoke, “something along the lines of my job.”
“A coward?”
“It is interesting how a coward was able to capture this kid, while you, and your famed soldiers found themselves incapable and thus incompetent,” he then bent over Aisling, turning him over, “what will you say child. Would you rather go with this incompetent fool who likes to overcompensate his lack of intellect with brute strength, or with me where your skills would actually be put to use of the Thirteen Cities.”
Aisling looked around. He did not wish either fate upon him, but at this moment he had to think about survival over his personal benefit. There was only one way to get out of this situation, and whether he liked it or not, it would include certain contradiction to his morals. Accepting Ermir’s hand, Aisling got up brushing the dirt off his humble clothing, and piercing Brandimir with his eyes.
“I would rather go with you sir.”
“It is settled then,” Ermir said looking at Brandimir, “we have our first recruit.”

***

Aisling spent the next few days in complete silence, barely making a sound. He did not speak and when he moved it was as though the wind and not a human being treaded his paths. His mother put care into packing most of his belongings. She was extremely nice to him and his brother in these last days. The next time she would see them would be when the caravan returned and the students were allowed to visit their parents with the caravan, which was usually their first assignment.
Estird was one of the other three boys that got accepted through the training process. They were now to join the caravan and travel with them until they made it back to the Academy in the heart of the Thirteen Cities on the great Lake of Silver Streams. Aisling was one of the younger recruits, only 8, but already selected by the mysterious Ermir. Everyone else including Estird was at least 10 years of age, and ready for the academy.
Their mother roasted a big dinner for the family before they were to leave. Aisling sat next to his father, without dropping a single sound, just enjoying his meal, while Estird could not stop talking about the possibilities in his future, painting a grand picture in his mind’s eye. After the dinner, Aisling did not drop a single word, but embraced both his mother and father in his arms.
The very next morning, both Aisling and Estrid as well as the other two boys accompanied the caravan out of their village and towards the Academy, a number of other villages were on their way, but that was the path that every recruit had to cross. They joined the ranks with an already substantial amount of children picked out by the Guard, on their journey.

[Yachiru]

I'm digging this, so you should be proud, as I'm very critical of fantasy stories. I've tried writing so many, but have never been able to manage one that I felt comfortable with. Assassins and the like are my favored characters, so I'm interested to see what you plan to do with a thief-like character. I see Aisling being more of a Drizzt-style character, which is nice to see, as it implies a moral mischievousness. I'm worried that you won't be able to display this in an original way, however, so prove me wrong!

I have high hopes for this; keep it coming.

[Realms]

Aisling sat on the back of one of the caravan wagons, staring into the sunrise in the direction where he came from. He started to miss his village, yet strangely enough, he felt that he wasn't grieving the departure from his family as a regular child would. He missed both his mother and father, but at the same time something inside him told him that he was supposed to feel something more, something deeper, yet he did not. He was intrigued by this development.
The caravan moved through more villages after Aisling and Estird joined the procession. A couple more future students were picked up along the way, most for other futures than Aisling. During the stops when the merchants did their deed, all of the kids had to accompany the Guard on patrol and other assignments. Two more kids joined Aisling. One elf and another one a blond kid with long hair and a smooth face. Somehow Aisling put him down as a mage or a wizard at the start and not a rogue or a spy.
Aisling enjoyed the little stops because he got to do what he liked, be a little sneaky and shadow-like. He began to form a strange bond with Ermir, something that a student would form with a teacher. Aisling came to see Ermir as his mentor and more strangely, a friend. He did not however, feel close camaraderie with the other two kids that joined their team. They were too loud for the profession they wanted to pursue. While Ermir's and Aisling's movements resembled a refreshing and silent night breeze, Urla'an and Tiythir moved like a pack of wild boars ravaging through the forest. Aisling started to call both of them "orcs" whenever he had to 'work' with them. Perhaps the academy would correct that, but until then he did not think that he needed to show them respect, because in his eyes they did not deserve any.
The caravan was slowly making its way into the last village, on the very outskirts of the Thirteen Cities' territories. After that, it would head for the Academy leaving the merchants in the large cities. Aisling made peace with his fate, yet never ruled out simply leaving the academy afterwards. Even though he never was fully behind supporting the Thirteen Cities and their rulers, yet that was a better fate than being left in the hands of Brandimir during their first encounter. Besides, he could finally see the wonderful scenery outside of his little village. He heart that the port city of Dunthlif was absolutely beautiful when the setting sun reflected off the sea.
Caught in his though Aisling did not notice how the caravan came to a complete stop and the merchants began to unravel their goods and to set up their tents. The Guard knights and archers began to make their usual tours to ensure the security of the whole market. Ermir snuck up behind Aisling hitting him with a back-hand to the back of the head.
"What are you dreaming about on this wondeful morning," Ermir smiled, pulling out his gloves and putting them on, "we have work to do."
"Where are the 'orcs' then," Aisling chuckled, "I believe we usually do the scouting together."
"Respect your comrades," Ermir handed Aisling another backhand, "besides, they are older than you, and that is just common sense. They're not coming."
"How come?"
"They're clumsy and not ready," Ermir paused for a second before going on, "for now. We are on the very outskirts of the Thirteen Cities, one of the more dangerous areas where thieves and orcs do not fear our power because we do not often reach out here."
"How nice of the Thirteen Cities' rulers to care about all of the citizens."
"I believe you forgot why you are here Aisling," Ermir smiled, squatting down and stretching, "do not make me remind you where you are going, and why it is good for you. Enough talk though, we need to move quick before the market is set up."
Ermir jumped from where he stood and started to move as soon as he climbed to the highest of the branches which could support his weight. Aisling did not loose any time and followed his teacher. Ermir was faster and more agile than Aisling, so it was difficult to keep up.
Aisling fixed his eyes on his teacher's back and followed him closely. Ermir did not make it easy, he made it very difficult for Aisling to keep up. He changed heights and speeds at will. Aisling barely followed the movements, let alone recreate them. Caught up in his movements Aisling did not notice how Ermir stopped and the treeline stopped. Streaming past his mentor Aisling found his body suspended in mid-air, while his mind figured out that he was about to hit the ground quite hard.
Ermir's hand gripped at the back of Aisling's shirt, pulling him back onto the branch. Aisling quickly recovered, trying not to look awkward and embarrass himself more. With a smooth move he dropped onto the branch to sit down, his legs hanging off and swinging back and forth.
"This is far enough," Ermir said looking into the distance, "this is where the archers will set up their posts."
"So we are done then," Aisling said, "great, I couldn't wait for some rest time."
"Did you forget," Ermir kicked the branch on which Ermir was sitting sending a shock through it, "it's your turn to be on patrol my friend."
Aisling did not expect such a turn of events as vibration of the branch sent him flying down. Dropping down at great velocity Aisling collected splinters under his skin and scratches on his face. Grouping his body, Aisling quickly grappled one of the bottom branches, and after a quick swing launched his body into the air before landing above the branch on which Ermir was standing. Wrapping his feet around the branch, Aisling rotated to hang upside down behind his mentor.
"How could I," he smiled, "I just assumed that the 'orcs' would join me on such a duty."
"I thought we discussed this," Ermir said, still studying the horizon, "there is very little they can do."
"If this area is as dangerous as you say though," Aisling said, still grinning with pride for the maneuver he just pulled off, "I do not think I am quite qualified for the assignment at hand."
"Take a dagger from my personal possessions," Ermir said turning to Aisling, "I am allowed to give weapons to selected students, consider yourself lucky."
"I thought I was lucky when I was selected at such a young age," Aisling laughed.
"Enough jokes," Ermir said, turning away again, "you can take an hour of rest before assuming your responsibilities."
Without saying another word Aisling swung around on the branch, heading back. His tracking skills were already good enough to lead him back to where they started. He knew that Ermir liked to take winding paths whenever he moved, mostly because he did not enjoy being followed, but also he wanted to teach the boys the skills of tracking.
Aisling quickly found his way back, and the market was almost set up. Just a couple of tents were not up, but the rest were quite ready for the villagers. Quickly spotting his target, Aisling made his way down into one of the tents bringing it down and with it an hour of effort and gathering a number of curses his way. Using the shadows of the bulky guards and merchants Aisling made his way towards his brother quickly jumping onto his back and forcing him into the dirty. Estird seemed ready though, quickly twisting out of the situation and forcing Aisling onto the ground and his newly aquired blade at Aisling's throat.
"Seems that you do not have the edge anymore brother," Estird's face was bright with uncontrolled glee for what he just pulled off.
"Yet," Aisling said quickly kicking Estird's feet from under him, disrupting his balance and jumping right up. One of his legs kicked the blade out of Estird's hand while he pressed his other leg's knee into Estird's chest pressing him down, "I still always have you on your back brother."
"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" A familiar rugged voice crept into Aisling's ears and sent chills down his spine, "up to some cowardice no doubt."
A strong, gigantic hand lifted Aisling into the air. He tried to twist away from the strong grip, but nothing helped. Brandimir had him within his deadlocked grasp, staring him down.
"No cowardly mischief here sir," Aisling imitated being scared and sorry for his deed, "just taking my rest before the assigned patrol, decided to pay my brother a friendly visit."
"No more time for child's play here," Brandimir grinned, "and you are distracting him from his duties, perhaps I should discipline you since Ermir neglects such responsibilities."
"You could sir," Aisling twisted his body so the grip would tighten on his shirt, sending ripples through the material and setting him free and bare from the waste up, "but then you will have to catch me first."
Using one of the stands as his launch pad, Aisling ran up and launched himself over Brandimir. An angered knight quickly tried to grab his prey again, yet missed. As soon as Aisling hit the ground, his body rolled forward and he found himself on his feet moving forth. Making it to the edge of the market, Aisling launched himself of the fence onto the trees and far from the angered Brandimir. He's done something of this sort every stop that the caravan made, and it never lost its appeal for him.
Making his way around, Aisling found the tent which was set up for Ermir right beside the one where him and the two other kids were supposed to live. He made his way inside the tent and picked up slick blade. The handle was quite simple and plain, only the stamp of the Thirteen Cities was carefully engraved into the bottom.
"Shall I tell the master that you've been going through his possessions?" he heard a quiet and somewhat sinister voice.
"Go away elf," Aisling said quietly, holding back his distaste for the comrade, "Ermir allowed to take this weapon."
"How careless of master," the kid spoke, "trusting a weapon to someone who does not know how to use it."
"You are right Urla'an," Aisling said turning and sheathing the blade, "perhaps I should sharpen out my skills on you and Tiythir."
"You should make aquaitances before you get to the Academy," Urla'an said turning away, "it can be a tough place. Especially for someone quite as young as you."
"I will consider your advice," Aisling said following Urla'an out of the tent.
Making his way to the outskirts, Aisling climbed a tree, looking back. The market was set up and the villagers were making their way to the tents to see what the greedy men had to offer. Aisling could not stand this view, it always brought disgust to his heart. Making his way a little deeper into the forest, but with the market still in sight Aisling looked around. He could see the archers making their way further away, probably keeping just as much watch. His assignment was to patrol the middle area between the garnison and the market. Hopefully nothing would happen.

***

The sun set and the dark night's sky engulfed the bright disk in into it's domain. The stars sparkled in the sky, creating enough light Aisling to guide himself back to the tents and the warm fires of the camp. The market was closed, and the business for the day was over. Ermir was already by the fire frying a boar over it. It seemed that he had made a little detour on his patrol to get some extra food.
"Nice of you to show up," Ermir smiled, "now I do not have to bother Brandimir with a search party. Although I doubt it that he would even bother putting one together. You should stop bothering him. He does not let go of things easily."
"Perhaps he should find something to occupy himself with," Aisling smiled, sitting down and accepting a nice piece of meat from his mentor, "than chasing after a kid all of his days."
"Perhaps. How was your patrol."
"Quite calm actually," Aisling smiled, "but you should know that. I noticed you checking up on me from time to time, passing by my position."
"You're more aware than you seem," Ermir smiled, biting into his own food.
"He is also dumber than he seems," Urla'an chuckled hitting Tiythir lightly into the ribs.
"Leave him alone Urla'an," Tiythir turned, "you two are to be comrades for a while at the Academy, you should perhaps make some amends."
Ermir raised his hand to seize all of the talking. All of the gatherings ended in a similar manner, with arguments between Urla'an and Aisling. Both got heated quite fast, yet Aisling was quick to cool down too. Tiythir was always the neutral party, never gaining support from either kid. Ermir grew increasingly tired of such bickering.
A quick scream pierced the night followed by a loud horn which woke up the whole camp. The Guard knights grabbed on to their swords and shields, scattering through the camps. A shrill orkish scream rang through Aisling's ears. Ermir did not waste any time pulling out his sabre and rushing towards the screams, Aisling did not waste any time in following his teacher. Instead of going in the open, Aisling stuck to the shadows outside of the camp fires.
Once he made his way to the origin of the screams a bloody battle opened up before his eyes. A group of about a fifty orcs made their way into the camp, hoping to cleave their way towards the heart of the camp and the merchants. When Aisling got to the battle, only half of the attackers were left. None of the Guard were dead or heavily injured and the orcs started to figure out that the tide of the battle was about to swallow them whole. The ones who were fortunate enough to be in the back started to run away, chased by the swift arrows.
Aisling spotted something else in the dark though, something moving behind the lines and off to the side, it looked like a group of three people moving slowly towards the center. While everyone was occupied with finishing off the retreating Orcs, Aisling made his way into the dark and followed the group of intruders who did not seem to care for the battle that was going on, but rather utilized that distraction.
The three shadows made their way towards the center tents where the merchants all cowered in the central one, waiting for the Guard's sign that it is safe. As the three entered one of the empty tents, Aisling positioned himself behind one of the archers' tents, observing the process, and waiting. As the three exited the tent, Aisling did not waste any time.
Moving quickly he darted past the three, only swiping the bag which was at the belt of the last man. The three men ran after Aisling at full speed, with three slender blades now drawn. As he made his way through the camp, Aisling was quick to weave around the tents and guide his followers towards the battle. Yet, his followers seemed to have other plans, one of the group broke away and moved to cut Aisling off at higher speed than the kid could muster. Finding himself in between three of his followers Aisling pulled out his own blade.
The three hooded figures slowly moved towards him, measuring their steps. Carefully, planning their attack. Without warning, the three men attacked in unison, all blades heading for Aisling just to cross together in empty air. As Aisling jumped planting his toe onto the crossed blades before flipping himself forward and using his blade to cut off another bag from another one of the thieves. As he landed three blades headed towards him again, not giving him a single moment.
Using his own blade, Aisling redirected one of the blades into the other, but caught the third one at the shoulder. Twisting his body away, Aisling moved it off the blade, making sure the cut was not deep. As he leaned, he rolled forth before darting through the three attackers again and picking off the third bag and running forward again. As the three men moved to follow the clever thief, one of the attackers froze before falling to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his back.
Without another wasted move, the two remaining infiltrators quickly dispersed into two different directions, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. The knights of the guard as well as Ermir quickly surrounded the fallen body. Aisling squeezed his way through the tight circle towards Ermir, tugging him on the sleeve.
"This is what they were after," he handed the three bags to Ermir, "I was able to pick it off."
"We need to cover your wound," Ermir bent over to accept the bags and noticed the cuts. He turned over the bags allow an assortment of jewels and gold coins to fall on the floor.
Aisling nodded and headed towards their own tents leaving the commotion behind. As he made his way further the only thing he could her was Brandimir's coarse voice.
"A member of the Thieves Guild, it appears that the truce that we have drawn with them is weaker than we assumed."

***

"What happened out there?" Aisling was greeted by Tiythir as he approached the tent.
"An attack," Aisling said, bending over to rip up some of his sheets in order to create a handmade bandage, "perhaps if you and Urla'an did not lounge back here you would be able to see what was happening for yourself."
"Unlike you, we were not granted a weapon."
"In due time 'orc,' in due time."
Tiythir sighed and disappeared into the tent, leaving Aisling to stand on his own and stand into the crowd of people. Brandimir, Ermir, and a number of other leaders of the caravan including the head merchant were no doubt discussing what to do. Aisling assumed that the caravan would move out tomorrow, not willing to succumb to another attack. This wasn't such good news for him, as he was still making peace with being a servant to the Thirteen Cities, but there wasn't much that could be done right now. He would just have to make peace with it, perhaps he would grow not to despise his current fate. He would leave his judgements until they reached the academy.

[Realms]

No chapter for the next 2-3 weeks because I'll be quite busy...

As the caravan passed by the various cities and left the majority of the merchants behind Aisling did not get the joy of seeing the beautiful sights of major places in the Thirteen Cities. A part of the official Academy welcome process included something that Aisling quite francly considered stupid, yet could not change. All of the rogue/spy student had blindfolds over their eyes. The only orient for his location for Aisling was Ermir who constantly spoke to him, especially when he walked to guide him towards his voice.
Aisling could still determine the change of scenery better than Urla'an and Tiythir, mostly because he trained his other senses. He could definitely smell the salty water as well as hear the seagulls flying over the water. When they passed through the forests he could smell the dew on the water. Often when he had to walk, he could hear the 'orcs' falling over themselves and tumbling down. He often came close himself, yet never actually fell but instead recovered quickly.
Aisling determined by the reduction of noise and chatter that the caravan thinned down just to the right numbers for the academy. As the caravan slowed down, Aisling thought that they were approaching the gates, by word of mouth one of the more beautiful sights in the Thirteen Cities, yet nothing compared to the Front Gardens to which the gates led.
"We are passing under the gates now," he heard Ermir's voice somewhere off to the side, by the speed at which they were moving he assumed that his mentor was walking near him, "it is truly a breathtaking sight."
"Yes, it truly is," Aisling came back sarcastically, "oh, look. There is your head so violently displayed on a stick."
Silence ensued but only momentarily, until Ermir hit Aisling off and to the ground. Even blindfolded Aisling planted his arms on the ground and flipped over to his feet turning around to where the caravan seemed to be going. A hand dragged him off the road and out of harms way.
"You should be more careful," Ermir smiled, "you almost got ran over by a horse."
"Forgive me master," Aisling did not let up, "I was too caught up with the beautiful sight of the Academy gate."
"So you were," Ermir chuckled to himself, grabbing Aisling by the color and dragging him down the road with him after the caravan.
"In a rush," Aisling tried to comment, but barely collected his breath because of the speed at which Ermir was dragging him towards his imminent fate within the walls of the academy.
A number of scents hit Aisling's nostrils hard and fast. He could not see the garden but through other senses he could imagine it quite well in his mind. Somehow though, he did not appreciate the beauty as much. Some would say that it is because his eyes were closed by a thick cloth, but he knew it was because he knew what stood behind the gardens, what happened to kids behind these walls.
"Only three," Aisling heard an elderly voice coming from his left and felt Ermir release his grip, "perhaps our line are justly thinning."
"You are right master," Ermir bowed to an elderly man, "but this crop has one exceptional one, although a little bit on the loose side of the mind."
"I will be the judge of that," the master turned to three older boys standing behind him, older students, "please take these kids to their temporary rooms. Let the test begin."
Aisling felt someone reach under his hands and lift him easily into the air. The light that barely fought through his blindfold quickly hit his eyes and Aisling assumed that he was being carried inside the a building with dim lightning. The older students carried him, Urla'an, and Tiythir through the corridors of the academy. The dim candles illuminated their way.
"So where am I going," he asked, but did not draw any answer from the older students.
Three doors opened revealing three dark, small rooms with one bed each. The older students tossed the young arrivals inside and locked the doors, walking away. As Aisling hit the cold and hard ground. He reached up and took of his blindfold withe zero results though. The room was still quite dark with only light coming in being the small stream under the door, not enough to light anything. Aisling found his way around quickly finding the soft bed and lying down. There was nothing else to do but rest.
"Alright," he heard the same elderly voice from outside, "here is what is about to happen to you kids. This is something that happens to everyone. 31 days in the confines of your rooms. You may ask to leave any time you want, but remember there are consequences. This is your first test."
After that everything went silent. Aisling quickly brought his arm up to his chin, thinking back to his walk. He faced the possibility of his future month in the confinement of his present room. There was nothing to scary and he would perhaps make some use of it. He leaned his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes.
He was back in his village now, thinking back to what he used to do. Nothing much, simply helping out his father and mother around the house and during his rest time running around with Estird and other kids. This was his brothers dream, to be in the Academy, perhaps he did not face such a fate, perhaps this was just his fate because of what the Academy has seen in his future. He wanted to see what came next because even though he did not see eye to eye with the values that the rulers of the Thirteen Cities held at high regard, he was interested in what he was to be taught besides those values.
Closing his eyes, Aisling dosed off.

Day 4:

His eyes, slowly became used to the darkness just a bit, he could make out where his bed was and the little hole in the ground where he was supposed to go about his "business". There was not much to do for him around. He was mostly satisfied with thinking back to his days before the room. Sometimes he went back to his times back at the village, but usually he was satisfied with thinking back to his time with the caravan.
He enjoyed the times on patrol because he actually got to do what he liked. Him and Ermir came to grow quite close together as master and student during those times. He even considered that he respected him just a bit. He still could not bring himself to agree with the core values of the Thirteen Cities, but he could actually see something noble in Ermir in many of their talks. He did not necessarily agree with some of the values but his heart was dedicated and he served them blindly. Aisling always thought that his eyes were closed shit to the truth.
Aisling smiled at the thought of Ermir standing for something noble which was against the Thirteen Cities. Aisling knew that Ermir's values were set in stone, and actually thanked that he may not see him again. Perhaps growing together with someone with whom you have conflicting points of views was not a good decision or a good judgement on his part.

Day 11:

Aisling began to make his peace with the food that he was being served. Those were excuses for meals rather than actual meals. The remaining parts of the animal carcasses with stale water for drink. This seemed inhumane but Aisling could not care less. In his mind he was not there, he was back at home having a home made dish with his parents and his brother. Even if the taste was quite different.
His mind wondered back to his conversations with Ermir during his short stay with the Caravan. He considered a number of things that they said and what they have mentioned in their talks and during their scouting activities. Ermir had some points, but Aisling had his own point of view and did not allow his temporary mentor to pierce his firm shell of beliefs.
Aisling started to walk around the room more by the eleventh day. He started to stand on his hands more and perform acrobatic moves around his small cell. Sometimes he slipped and hit his body on various sharp angles of his bed or onto the floor, once even accidentally almost fell through his temporary washroom.
All of this kept his mind of the darkness around him, the absence of noise, and the absence of human contact. He was afraid that if he focused on it, he could change, he could go insane. He wanted to be ready to come out. The thought of asking to be let out was in his mind all the time. Even though it was quite appealing to escape the grasp of the Thirteen Cities. The only thing that held him back was Brandimir's image. He knew if he chose not to be a part of the Academy and its purpose, his fate was quite simple, he would face the bearded, rugged knight and his most likely violent punishment, especially since he was away from home and nothing to protect him. As the member of the Guard, Brandimir was free to choose Aisling's fate to his pleasing.

Day 19:

"Perhaps there was some validity to what he said," Aisling smiled, "perhaps there is something in that."
He started talking to himself more and more, he felt as if he was forgetting how to converse and it kept him sane. His conversations usually resolved his views, and he thought back to most arguments that he had. He often discussed everything from both points of view, often being very graphic at it as well. Articulating every word as well as maintaining the proper tones and body language.
The taste of food stopped to matter. He was more concerned with the fact that he needed the food to survive through the days. If not for his exercise he would feel feeble and weak, but he found a way to keep himself strong. He was also pretty sure that his birthday passed some time earlier. He lost track of a days a little while ago.
His eyes were now quite adjusted to the darkness he could make out the bed, the door and everything else, as well as the walls. Perhaps this was part of it. He was afraid of what would happen when he would enter a well lit room, perhaps even go blind. He also wondered whether or not Urla'an and Tiythir lasted this far, but had no doubt. Even though he hated them, they were determined kids, even if clumsy.

Day 25:

Aisling felt close to considering the views that Ermir held and shared with him during their trips. He seriously considered that the Thirteen Cities may have some validity to them. He considered some of them to be completely faulty, but some he was coming around to. His conversations with himself really brought about different points of view into his mind. He slowly started to lean towards anticipating the rest of his stay with enjoyment. Perhaps that was the purpose.
The night and darkness seemed like daylight to him. His eyes could see clearly across the room and he did not doubt that he could see across a dark field at night without any trouble. That made it even scarier for him to think about what would happen when he would be exposed to light, perhaps the transition can end up smoother, but he did not want to risk anything and had a plan in his mind in case the Academy was not prepared for such a delicate transition.
The food was starting to improve, the meals were larger than before and the meat was of higher quality now, the water was better too. He felt a little heavier after each meal and exercised to maintain the shape that he was in. Aisling often regretted that he there was nothing to climb or to hang from. He would eventually get to do that he assumed, but for now it would be good to keep in shape and not fall to the 'orcish' level.

Day: 30

Aisling was confused. It took him the last couple of days to figure out the point of this exercise. He was almost broken before he came together. This was supposed to break his will, leave him at their mercy. That was the reason for Ermir's deep talks with him. He wanted give him something to think about, something to consider when he was here all by his lonesome.He knew then that there was no master-teacher connection there was nothing. He was just a part of their major plan, he was to be moulded however they saw fit.
The food was even better now. They were quite ready Aisling thought. It was interesting how they were prepared. They had assumed how long it would take an average kid to come around before serving them better food, how long it would take to break them down. Perhaps now they would teach him their values while his eyes adjusted, he thought.
This was quite interesting. With the current downfall of support, recruiting must have been harder. This was their way to ensure brain-dead followers to their values. Perhaps there was nothing real during his time of travelling with the caravan. He felt quite betrayed, but there was nothing he could do.
All on his own, Aisling moulded his ideals back into place where they began. He would not allow himself to be subject to some wicked will, he broke free. He knew that they would watch him, especially after Ermir's smart comment at the gates of the Academy.

Day 31:

The door opened with a small creak. The hallway was dark as Aisling tried to look into the faces of the people that came for him. He could barely make out Ermir's image. The other one, he assumed, was the head master o