The hour is early, and the morning sun is shining bright.
Damian was snuggled in his thick blanket, sleeping like a newborn pup in winter. His breathing was steady as his arms clung on the other pillow. At this moment, he didn't want to wake up just yet. The boy slept a little late an hour last night when he'd scoured every corner of his family's library shelves trying to find magic textbooks. The boy, age six, had a great fascination with it; he dreamed he was a grand mage casting spells with great power.
His deep slumber was cut short when his door opened. A boy with auburn hair, a year his senior, opened the window inside his bedroom and let the morning rays of light hit his face. Damian scrunched his eyes, his hand instinctively reached for his face for cover. Ten heartbeats passed and he opened his fingers to see through, taking a guess on the idiot that interrupted his needed rest.
Damn it…who barged in my room this early…
When the auburn boy saw his eyes open, he immediately rushed towards him with a loud and eager voice.
"Hey, Damian, wake up!" He pulled Damian's blanket and jumped on his bed, shaking his shoulder until he fully woke up.
"It's too early, Ivan…Go play with someone else." Damian said.
"I just can't wait til afternoon to fight you again, little brother. Besides, you haven't even won against me, so maybe I'll swing with less force if you still can't match my strength." Ivan grinned stupidly.
"Just go away!" Damian grumbled and shoved Ivan's face away from him.
"Never." Ivan said, "You'll do as I say or I'll knock the bookworm out of you."
The older brother ended up dragging Damian out of his bedroom, still wearing their sleeping clothes on. Damn him, why is he always so eager to fight? Damian thought to himself.
Before heading towards the mansion's training yard, Ivan grabbed the two jackets hanging on the rack that fit their sizes and wore them. Ivan helped his little brother fit his jacket just as any eldest son would usually do to their younger sibling.
They were met with snow on the ground just as thick as an adult's foot level. It's only them in the yard at this moment as the servants are inside the confines of the well-heated mansion. This is their third play swordfight, the previous ones Ivan would just knock Damian's wooden sword with full force and tackle him to the ground until he yielded. He's stronger than him, no doubt, the eldest always had that kind of strength.
Damian looked at the snow on the ground. This is the sixth winter of his life, and on his first winter he was born. The Northlands always had longer winters among the main regions of the Empire. For six months you'll be a sniveling pup or a freezing corpse unless you keep the fire in the hearth burning.
Damian, still dazed after being abruptly woken up by his brother, tried to remember his dream. He thought of magic circles coming out of his staff, casting offensive energy blasts against his foes. And then there was his brother, already an accomplished swordsman, standing before him. Damian aimed his staff, summoned more circles and fired it at him. Ivan bravely charged towards him.
"Hah! You're out of focus again, little brother."
Ivan swung his wooden sword to Damian's left ankle in which he swiftly dodged. Huh– what– already!? There wasn't even a proper start or a signal just yet. Damian thought. His reflex saved him from Ivan's surprise attack.
"Quit dozing off, you look like you're dreaming about winning." Ivan grinned as he continued to swing wildly at his little brother. "And I'm not going to let your dream come true that easily."
"You swing too wide brother, I could hit your head up close." Damian tried to hit his head with a downward slash. Ivan parried it with an upward swing.
The clatter of wood echoed in the yard as we clashed. ''I'll lessen the force of my swing" he said, and yet my hand still shakes whenever our wooden swords make contact. Damian complained.
Truth be told, he wasn't interested in sword fighting. His great interests are reading books and solving puzzles. What fascinates him even more is magic, particularly spellcasting. But his father would sooner train him rigorously with the ways of the sword than let him train uttering incantations and waving staffs.
"You spend so much time in the library with mum and Beatrice, I hope you could do the same during our sword training." Ivan said. "You're such a bookworm, you know that?" He swung on his right shoulder but Damian parried it quickly.
"And all you could think of is fighting, you meathead." Damian said and pulled down his eyelid then sticks out his tongue. "Besides, father wont train me until I turn seven, you'll be the first one to be trained instead."
"Then you'll be left behind even further you twat!"
Ivan thrusted his wooden sword on his brother's rib and knocked him down on the ground.
"Argh!" Damian groaned, hissing as he clutched his rib.
"Hahah, I guess that's my third win now." Ivan laughed and pointed his wooden sword at him.
Damian's back is against him, he didn't rise just yet. He waited until his brother's shadow loomed over him.
"Damian, hey, are you alright? Don't tell mum I hit you too har–"
As soon as he got close enough, Damian, in a split second, scooped up the snow and molded it into a ball and threw it right in Ivan's face. His brother caught the snowball on the bridge of his nose, leaving him frozen and blinded. Damian knocked his wooden sword and hit his abdomen, knocking him down.
"Guh– hey! That was cheating!"
"Cheating? I call that a clever tactic. Besides, didn't you attack me immediately even though I haven't taken a proper stance yet?" Damian chuckled, his wooden sword now pointed at him.
"That was different you twat, we were fighting with wooden swords not snowballs!"
"There are no rules in a real battle, only the winners. Just accept your loss, brother."
"Tch, come here you–"
Ivan tackled him to the ground and they started to wrestle. He's fuming. Damian can tell from his brother's face going red. What a stupid big brother, can't even accept a loss from a simple morning playfight. He thought.
Ivan shouted 'cheater' while Damian said 'loser' many times and giggled to annoy him further. The bickering won't end unless one admits their wrongs.
Their sibling quarrel ended when a big looming shadow appeared before them. The boys looked above, a tall brooding man with dark hair and neatly trimmed facial hair kept his gaze locked to them. He's covered in his rugged black fur cloak, making him even more imposing for the two. Slowly, they fixed themselves and stood, looking like a bunch of idiots. It only needed one heavy glance from him to stop the two from fighting.
"Hm, you're both early this morning, that's new." Lanius sighed and patted their heads.
Damian expected a scolding or an ear pull. But with their father, his stone face and silence is all that's enough.
"Go eat your first meal. We're going to the city after you've finished." Lanius said.
'Yes, father." Said both brothers and they nodded. The boys head towards the dining room to fill their stomachs after an early morning activity.
…
Once Damian finished eating his first meal, he went out to find his mother, Lady Catherine. The glass sanctuary where she'd spend her time gardening was a short walk from the mansion. He opened the door and saw her immersed with the plants. Her emerald hair, the vine patterns spanning down her sleeves, made it seem like she blended in with the green scenery. All it takes is for her to wear a leafy wreath, and she would look like an enchanted lady of the forest.
Damian stepped inside, the air feels warm and the sight of the lush green plants makes up for a comfy ambience.
When Catherine noticed a wrinkled leaf, she swayed her wrist and uttered a word. "Healing."
At her word, the plant pulsed with life, the decay receding until the leaf was once again green and supple. Damian watched in awe and silence, his brow furrowed. Just one word? He thought. He had expected a longer and rhythmic chant, yet she had skipped them entirely.
Catherine looked over at her son and smiled.
"Damian, did you come here to help your mama tend the garden?" Catherine asked, her smile radiant and comely.
Damian couldn't possibly refuse, her warm and motherly smile can't help either. He reached for a watering can, meanwhile, Catherine didn't bother with tools. With a faint bluish glow from her palm, she summoned a steady stream of water. The plants perked up instantly, looking all refreshed. Damian finished watering the other plants.
"Well done, Damian. You are always my little helper." She leaned in, her touch light as a leaf as she patted his head.
"You know, you've been reading more books than usual. I saw you last night slumped on the table with books piled around you." She giggled. Catherine had carried Damian out of the library and tucked him on his bed. The library was a mess, but she took her time to fix the mess her son made.
"I had been immersed in reading more about the flora and fauna of the North that I didn't realize how late it was." Damian said.
"You're such a genius child as ever." Catherine said. "I hadn't seen any boy your age as bright as you are."
Praise me more, mother. Damian thought. I want to hear more of it once I learn to cast magic spells. If I can convince her to teach me now, the headstart would be remarkable.
In this world, potential is a race against time. The earlier a person builds their foundation, the greater the heights they will achieve. I can't just keep watching and wasting my own potential, I want to be a mage that stands at her side.
His dreamy and profound contemplation was shattered by a voice as loud and grating as a mountain goat.
"Damian! We're heading out!" Ivan barked, leaning through the doorway. "Dont tell me you're staying behind? We're going to the city!"
Damian held back a frustrated sigh. The transition from his mother's gracefulness and magic was enough to give him a slight headache. He let out a long sigh before turning his head to face his brother.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Damian said grudgingly. But before he could step out of the glass shelter, he hugged his mother tightly, clinging and sniffing her scent. Ivan grunted and grabbed him by the back of his jacket, an impatient little lordling.
"Hey– you don't have to do that!" Damian grumbled and broke free from his brother's grasp before walking outside, leaving one last glance and a smile for his mother.
"Take care, you two and behave yourself during your visit." Catherine waved her hand.
In the front yard of the mansion, there were four horses. Lanius and his sworn knight were waiting for these young lordlings. Both imposing men were draped in thick northern fur cloaks and brooding faces. They have such stoic faces that seem as cold as the North itself.
To the left side is Sir Robin, the first sworn knight of Lanius's household ever since they moved into Melvor territory with lady Catherine to settle and build their family. Lanius took him to his service a year before his first son was born.
"Father, what city are we headed to?" Ivan asked.
"To Kolberg, the large, walled and the most prosperous city in Melvor. I have some business to discuss with the Redford family and I ought to bring you two there so you can learn a thing or two."
"Amazing! I want to visit their marketplace and buy something incredibly fun, like a polished sword, a nice plate armor–"
"You won't buy recklessly, I'll make sure of that." Lanius furrowed his eyebrows. "You two better behave yourselves, we're visiting the Redfords there."
"I'll change my mind if the two of you behave and won't start a fight." Lanius ruffled Ivan's hair.
"I won't start a silly fight with Damian, I swear it." Ivan mumbled.
'A marketplace huh? Perhaps I could find a magic book right there.' Damian thought.
Ivan saddled on Lanius's horse, while Damian on Sir Robin's.
They set off to Kolberg while the day was still fresh.
…
The ride was three hours long before they finally reached Kolberg. The city has two main districts that are separated by a river and a bridge. At the outer district where the less fortunate settlers made themselves shabby and crude houses, there were loud bellows coming from large beasts. Damian looked on the distant east side and saw gigantic mammoths either sleeping at the covers of tall pine trees or drinking fresh water from the river.
They look more gigantic than what I imagined reading about the North's fauna. I wonder if I can snuggle their thick fur… He thought.
They continued riding at the main road and crossed the bridge to enter the fortified city. Inside was nothing more than a bustling road. It was filled with sellers that were selling fruits and foraged goods, fishes and crabs that came from a coastal town, and woodcrafts made from the hands of hardworking craftsmen. There were vagrants who got caught by the townsguard being dragged away too, most of them looked like children or teens alike.
They continue trekking down the busy road. Damian looked at each of the houses, they're mostly built with stone foundations, and must be well-heated inside too. They're bigger in size, than the houses built in the outer district, if they're considered a proper one at all.
The city's plaza was kept clean as street cleaners swept the snow off of the roads. At the middle was a fountain where people of all ages come and relax. Adults tossed their coins, clasped their hands and made a wish. Just as they left, a boy emerged from the fountain's basin with his hands full of coins, giggling as he left. Damian even saw a girl trying to reach her hand towards the fountain's basin attempting to do the same, but a neatly-dressed man with a twirly mustache scooped her out before she could swim in the water. She let out a wild tantrum and growled at the man.
The group rode further until they reached their destination.
...
The manor they were headed to sat on top of a hill, the Redford Manor. As they got closer, their banners can be seen outside the gates and on the two tall towers with pointed spires. Black on the left side and white on the right, with the head of a red direwolf facing sideways.
The guards opened the gates to let them inside.
Once they got inside the manor's front yard, a red-haired and bearded middle-aged man greeted them with a loud and boisterous voice.
"Lord Lanius Vermillion, the Redfords welcome you to our hearth and table!" The crimson haired lord's voice boomed, carrying the authority of a man who ruled with iron and might. He stood no taller than Lanius, still an imposing man nonetheless. The lord offered a deep, practiced bow, and his sons followed him.
One son, the youngest, was a vision of a knight the songs and folktales described. Encased in a full suit of polished plate and armed with a sword whose guard is gilded steel and a handle of deep red. A heavy cloak of thick brown fur was draped across his shoulders, making him appear more beast than a man, a direwolf in human form even. Beside him stood his brother, frail, pale and wrapped so tightly in black furs that he seemed to be drowning in the pelt of a winter wolf.
Lanius and his party swung down from their saddles, the leather creaked, followed by a sudden thud. The stable boys scurried to catch the reins of their mounts and lead them towards the hay and water of the stalls.
Damian's gaze shifted, his eyes locked onto the man in armor. On his chestplate, there etched deep the snarling red direwolf. The sigil of a house bound and ever so loyal to the Vermillions. The knight caught his eyes, waved his hand and grinned.
This knight must be very strong. He thought, And confident.
Damian glanced at his left and saw Sir Robin's stoic face judging the Redford knight's self-confidence into plain arrogance. He's already sizing up this young knight it seems.
"Lord Cedrick Redford." Lanius said, his voice cut through the air like a winter chill, "I have received word about your newly knighted son. Shall we discuss it now and be done with it?"
So he might be our new sworn knight, interesting… Damian thought.
Cedrick offered a broad smile, not minding the brooding lord's icy and straightforward tone, "Straight to business, aren't we? Truly, Lanius, you never change." He gestured towards the looming limestone walls of the estate. "It's bitter out here, why not step inside the manor? We can settle these matters in the dining room. Business is always smoother when paired with the finest cut of venison and best quality vintage wine our cellars have to offer."
"The cold doesn't bother me, but it'd be rude on my side to refuse your hospitality." Lanius said.
The group moved inside the manor, their footsteps echoing at the stone floors as they continued towards the dining room.
Lord Cedrick took his place at the center of the long table, the undisputed head of the Redfords required to be seated here. Lanius claimed the seat to his immediate right. To the left, the newly knighted Redford son sat beside his lord father. Ivan, Damian, and Sir Robin filled the remaining seats on the right.
The servants move with practiced discipline, placing silver platters of tender, glistening venison from the early morning hunt. The aroma from the herbs paired with the meat filled the air with a pleasant and appetizing smell. The aged wines were filled in the silver goblets of the men, while Damian and his brother were served chilled grape juice.
Lord Cedrick offered a brief and solemn grace, his voice steady as he blessed the food. When the prayer concluded, the rhythmic clatter of silver against silver followed.
As they chewed the tenderness of the venison, Cedrick turned his attention to Lanius, his expression shifted into a proud father of a warrior.
"Allow me to formally introduce my second son, Sir Elric Redford." Cedrick said, gesturing his hand towards the young knight. "He has been trained under my own guidance and the rigorous hands of my Chief Knight, Sir Roger Karson. His mastery over his aura reinforcement is already at Senior Level."
Cedrick paused for a moment, making sure the weight of that rank sank into their ears before continuing.
"Even without the aid of aura reinforcement, his natural and raw strength is formidable. He can cleave through boulders as well as lift them and break them using his fists." He reached out and tapped his son's shoulder, the metal spaulders making an awkward clank that echoed through the room. Elric almost spat the wine he was drinking as his father's heavy hands tapped him, and yet he laughed it all off.
Ivan, meanwhile, looked at Elric with awe and admiration. He's already thinking of training with him.
"The lad looks as though he's never seen a battlefield." Lanius said, his eyes locking in the young Redford. He's practically the spitting image of his lord father during his younger years. "How old is he?"
"Sixteen, and recently knighted." Cedrick replied with a proud sharp-toothed grin. "A true prodigy, as you can see. He will prove to be invaluable under your service. Are you doubting the exceptional strength of my son, Lord Lanius?"
Lanius looked at Elric, silently weighing the truthfulness of Lord Cedrick's claim.
He paused, finally considering the offer.
"I don't doubt his strength in the slightest, he is your blood afterall." Lanius said, "Perhaps under my wing he will truly flourish." He sipped the wine from his silver goblet before he continued.
"But tell me, what is the price for such loyalty? What do you want in exchange for your son's lifelong service?"
Lord Cedrick's gaze shifted to his eldest son, Maximilian, and gestures his hand to let him speak. Maximilian was strikingly pale and frail, yet he carries a haunting elegance. His calm, half-lidded eyes gave him an air of grace and composure in contrast to his sickly frame.
"Lord Lanius." Maximillian said. "It was me who proposed this idea and the reason why we invited you inside our household."
"Speak what's on your mind." Lanius leaned back, his eyes narrowing. He was the heir to Ericus, the Duke of Aisdel, and he was no stranger when it came to court matters. Every noble house in the North looked at his lineage and saw a ladder to be climbed.
"I want to betroth my firstborn daughter, Agnes, to your eldest son," Maximilian said, the smile on his face never leaving him. He had been smiling like a fox ever since Lanius got here. "She is only two years his senior, but I am certain they would be a perfect match.
At the mention of a wedding, Ivan's ears perked up. He snapped his head towards Maximilian, his eyes wide with sudden interest. Until now, he had spent the meeting distracted, admiring the polished armor of the handsome red-haired knight, giving little thought to the knight's own frail older brother.
Meanwhile, Damian observed the entire thing in silence. His eyes fixed towards Maximilian, weighing the man's way of thinking.
"Ivan is only seven and soon to be trained in swords. It's a few years too early to do this betrothal."
Maximilian nodded, conceding the point. "Indeed, it is. It was merely a suggestion on my side. As you say, we can wait a few years before the arrangement is made official."
Lanius shifted his gaze, looking around the room. "And where is your daughter? She ought to be present if her future is being discussed with."
"Oh, right… She went to the marketplace with her butler, Benneth. My daughter has always had a certain fondness for the bustle of the city."
Before the adults could even continue, a young, energetic voice cut through the tension.
"Then I'll go find her at the marketplace then!" Ivan declared, already halfway out of his seat.
This is my chance! Damian thought. I can finally explore the marketplace to find myself a magic textbook. He rose from his seat and followed his brother.
He didn't care for the red-haired knight nor the dealings of the nobility. To Damian, all the talk of betrothals and bloodlines were nothing more than a white noise. He needed to ascend early, make use of his gifted mind, and become the grand mage he always dreamed of
Lanius sighed, the weight of the discussion settled on his shoulders. He turned towards his knight.
"Sir Robin, follow them. Ensure they're safe." He pulled a heavy silk pouch from his coat, the dull clink of gold echoing in the room. "Take this. Should something catch their eyes, see to it. Unless it's something that a boy shouldn't get his hands on." His eyes locked to Damian and Ivan.
Sir Robin bowed, his hand hovering over the hilt of his blade as he accepted the silk pouch. Damian, already halfway through the door, felt a surge of silent irritation. A guardian meant eyes on his every move. If he was to slip away trying to find a magician's stall, he would have to outsmart a seasoned knight first.
I'll get my grimoire no matter what… Damian thought.