A tall man with tanned skin and pristine armour stood over him with an axe still drenched with blood draped over his shoulder. His skin was the colour of olive with a paler, almost white scar from the left of his forehead to his lip, lapping over an eye. Both eyes were fine, a beautiful shade of brown, almost like honey and just as sweet to look upon. Kain slowly blinked, causing the man to chuckle as two men with bird-like helmets rushed over, pouring liquids onto his wounds.
The man's black hair was cut like a commoner's, far too short for a knight, and with a bald line where a sword had cut a trench in the side of his head. The others in armour pulled off his armour and turned him onto his stomach, yet Kain could not muster the energy to move. They pour and wrap bandages across his body, then tear off a cloak, tucking it under him, lifting him off the floor and down the road. Kain's eyes shut and refuse to open.
Gasps and yells fill Kain's ears as he is carried past merchants and commoners waiting outside of a colossal white stone gate dug out of the side of an even bigger white stone wall. He passed under the portcullis and through the wall; it was as if he went through a tunnel rather than a gate. The wall was three times as thick as the one at Braemoor and far, far taller. Inside was a city swarming with people, children squeezed through the crowd, some picking pockets, and both men and women shouted out "apples" and "fish… salmon for a silver".
"Ser he's awake", one of the men carrying Kain in his cloak turns to the tanned man, shock emanating from underneath his helm even though it covered his face.
"What's your name, lad?" the tanned man spoke with an accent Kain had never heard.
"Kain, " he coughed, trying to rise from the cloak, but collapsed back into its feathery embrace.
"Well, that's good", He sauntered in front of them all, his presence cutting a path through the crowded street.
They passed through tightly packed houses and into an area with larger homes and shops, bigger than any Kain had seen before. In the distance was a castle dug halfway into a mountain, towers halfway up its peak looked out across the forest, and smoke bellowed out from behind its walls. The castle seemed to stay on the horizon for what felt like hours until finally they were allowed past its red wood gate and into the lively courtyard filled with knights draped in feathered cloaks, clashing swords, and boys tending to horses and armour.
A short man in thick robes and a wrinkled face waddles towards Kain and stands above him, staring down at his mauled arm with a pipe hanging from his mouth. The man's thin fingers pull at the blood-soaked bandage, the blood clings to cloth and skin, but comes off with a tug. The wound is gory and still pulsing blood.
"Who is he?" The short man pokes at the cuts with his gnarled finger, sending a wave of pain through Kain's body; he struggles to keep a straight face with each poke.
"The squire from Braemoor caught him fighting a bear whilst on patrol." The tanned man looked down with a smirk.
"Bring him to the infirmary then", the old man hobbled towards the mountain, only to be left behind as the knights carried Kain through doors and more doors until he was placed onto a straw bed in a large room filled with other beds, all of them empty.
"You must be the young lord's new squire", the old man plucked a cup from the table and poured a reddish-brown liquid into it before handing it to Kain.
"Drink only a gulp", he fiddles with some tools by the side table.
He does so and slumps back down into the bed. A needle pierces his skin, and into the crevice where the bear had ripped open flesh with its teeth, yet he felt no pain, in and out and in and out went the needle, leaving thin strands throughout the trenches. The thin string was pulled tight, holding skin to skin, and then wrapped with clean bandages after being swabbed with a wine-soaked cloth.
"My father told me about this", Kain slurred his words and tapped the cup with his index finger.
"Please turn over", the old man plucked the cup from his hands "A doctor i take it?" his finger picks dirt from the wound.
"He was a soldier during the war of isles and took a spear to the leg, he said it made him throw up" his eyes felt heavy and limbs clumsy.
"If you were to vomit, it would have happened already" Kain could feel his skin being pulled tight.
"Rest for today, and you should be well enough to see the young lord" The old man left without another word.
The room was pure stone, pillars and decor were skillfully carved from the walls. Yet sunlight shone through the windows and across the beds. The instant his heavy eyes shut, they open again to see the tanned knight walking to his bedside.
"Good morning, lad, are we feeling better?" Now that his axe wasn't drinking the bear's blood, its head was clearly covered in grooves dyed purple, the purple spread across the axe like vines that sprout purple flowers. Where the metal met haft the metal vines crept down a few inches. Even the leather grip was dyed purple.
"Good morning ser" Kain rose from the bed, gritting his teeth as the stitching of his wound pulled with the movement of his forearm.
"I am Noah of Tyressa, but just Noah is fine", He offers Kain a hand, and the boy takes it. Noah hands him a clean black tunic, which he struggles to put on without splitting the stitching.
"I've never heard of Tyressa before" Kain pulls his head through the tunic and begins to walk beside Noah.
"It is only a small island in the far south, it is warm and beautiful and covered with purple flowers. Ah, and the women don't cover themselves as they do here," He sighs, eyeing a maid as they pass through the stone hallways.
"I…I see" Kain's eyes stare at the floor as the knight chuckles.
"Well, here we are, the young lord is waiting for you" They stop at a pair of redwood doors detailed with black iron studs and handles. Two guards in bird armour push open the doors.
"Your new squire ser", Noah pushes him forward and waits at the now closed doors.
"I see" a man in a bird's helm stands.
Black feathers cover the outside of his cloak, which drags across the floor, covering him completely. Where the cloak meets itself at the front is a clasp of silver wings wrapping around a dark green gemstone. The helm was laden with silver details that made it resemble a bird even more. Through the eye slits, a pair of mud coloured eyes stare back at the ice of Kains.
"You are to be my squire and my squire mustn't die to a rotting and starving bear, so I wish for you to train straight away" Despite his stature being the same as Kains his voice was that of a man thrice his size.
"Y…yes ser" Kain's eyes darted around the room, everywhere but where the lord stood.
"Then be gone, I shall see you again in the training grounds for a private lesson. Noah will show you which is my horse and give you one of your own. I expect you to tend to both" the young lord returns to his desk, standing at its side and staring at a painting of the city that hangs between two windows.
Noah and Kain walk out of the room and through the stone halls once again until they reach the two massive doors that lead to the courtyard and stables. Inside the stables stood a jet black destrier with a black braided mane. It huffed as Noah approached it and leaned its head down for his hand to pet it.
"She won't give you any issue, just brush her and tend to the saddle, and you should be fine", he scratched under the horse's chin.
"Now", Noah claps both hands together and spins on his feet out the door "Let us train", he saunters out of the stable and out into the courtyard, spinning his long axe in one hand as he goes.
Kain followed just behind him, looking at his hip for any weapons, but found none. The Tyressian placed his longaxe against a wall and picked up a blunted one from a barrel filled with weapons. Kain walked up to the bin and pulled out a bastard sword.
"Come on then, let us all see why the young lord chose you" The axe spins in the knight's hands.
Kain stepped forward with both hands on the hilt, his heart thumped harder as more and more knights and squires surrounded the two. Noah ran closer, swinging the axe to Kain's left, where the forearm was injured. The boy's knees bent, and he leapt over the axe and, in one motion, brought the sword downwards in his right hand. The knight leant backwards, dodging the dull blade by only an inch or two, and in return booted the young squire in his chest, sending him tumbling across the floor.
The stitches split open as he pulled himself to his feet using the sword to stand faster. Before he was in a stance, Noah rushed in once again, this time swinging downwards. Kain spun, leaving the axe to dig into the dirt rather than his head and swung for the man's tanned face, only to clash against the wooden shaft of the axe still lodged in the floor. The knight's gauntlets smash into the boy's face, shattering his nose, but Kain forces his foot behind the mailed leg and lifts it, sending both of them crashing to the floor.
"Well done, boy, well done" Noah claps before shoving him off his chest and standing.
Before Kain could spin or stand or scurry out from under him, the knight's boot planted firmly into the boy's stomach, and the axe slung over his shoulder.
"You are quick but not from training. You should thank your mother and father," he lifts the foot from Kain's belly and walks back to the bin, placing the axe back where it came from.
"I have no mother," Kain stammers.
"A tragedy", The Tyressian embraced him in a hug as tight as the bear's jaws and began to weep.
"Ser?" Kain sputtered at the man's whimpering sobs.
"I cry for you and your mother, boy. No child should go without their mother's love" Noah squeezed him tighter before letting go.
'what an odd man' the hug filled him with unease despite the warmth of it.
"Noah, you're scaring the lad to see a man cry in Ardin." Another knight, covered in pox scars poorly hidden by a brown beard.
"I do not understand the customs of the western lands, no matter how long I live here", he shook his head and rubbed the tears from his eyes.
Kain watched as the knights clashed dull swords against each other, and those who were not training played with cards at a table or talked in groups. Just the courtyard itself was the size of Castle Braemoor and much cleaner due to the small army of stable boys and squires that cleaned armour and yard.
"You had two swords when we found you" Noah sits cross-legged on a closed barrel, pulling off the gauntlets from his armour.
"The fancy one I took off the young lord of Braemoor in a duel, and the bastard sword I took from a man who killed my friend", he taps his index and middle finger rapidly against his leg.
"You killed this man?" Noah puts the gauntlets to his left and picks dirt from under his nails with the tip of his dagger.
"And his companions", Kain takes a seat on an opposite barrel.
"Good, then it will not be hard on patrol", the Tyressian inspects each nail before sheathing the dagger.
They both sit in silence for a while, admiring the knights clashing sword against sword. As the sun hangs in the middle of the sky, the wooden doors of the keep open, and lord Karsten walks out still dressed in cloak and helm.
"Kain, you and Noah will be on last light patrol. Tomorrow morning, I will spar with you for an hour and give you instructions on how to train," he floats down the stairs and towards the stables, returning with the black horse and bolting out of the gate.
"He is a busy man" Noah jumps off the barrel and retrieves his axe before strolling back inside the keep.