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Torn -> Quest (3/19/2011 8:01:53)
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Prologue: The Naming Ceremony
The young boy stood in a large crowd surrounded by people the same age as he. The crowd was in standing in a large grassy clearing, with the clearing surrounded by trees, with a single trail leading in and out of the clearing. The boy rocked back and forth on his heels; for he was nervous. Today was the Naming Ceremony. It was a rite of passage in his village; the day when the young people in his village would have their palms read by the leaders of the Council of Elders and their careers would be determined. He felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder. The boy looked back and then up at the face the hand belonged too.
It belonged to the young boy’s friend; Collin. He was the son of the village’s carpenter. His hands were ruff and covered in scars, and his arms were large and muscular. Collin smiled a toothy grin before patting the young boy on the back.
“Ya getting nervous there, eh?” He asked. The boy smiled before replying
“Yeah, I am. How about you?” Collin shrugged.
“I’m not too worried; just hope that I get a career that allows me to use my hands.” The young boy chuckled.
“With hands like those, I’m sure you’ll get a career you’ll want.” Collin rolled his eyes.
“So how about you? What are you hopin’ for?”
“Herbology.” Collin raised an eyebrow.
“Herbology? Come on Don, you have to think of something more adventurous. Playing with plants is not fun.” A new voice said. Collin looked over at the new figure as Don turned around. It was Don’s best friend; Rosalie. She was, ironically, the daughter of the village’s herbologist. Her honey like hair went down to her shoulders. She walked over to Don and stood next to him.
“All right, Rose, what do you want to have for a career?” Don asked, crossing his arms. Rosalie scrunched her eyebrows; thinking.
“Well… I actually don’t know what I would want to do. I just want it to allow me to see places outside of the village.” Collin clicked his tongue and Don shook his head with a chuckle. “What?” She asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Don dismissed with a wave of his hand. Rosalie glared at Don in mock anger.
“You had better tell me.” She said playfully.
"Or what?” Don teased. Rosalie grinned and tackled Don, whom yelped in surprise at the sudden assault. Rosalie fell on top of Don and pinned him to the ground. Collin chuckled and backed away from Don’s squirming form.
“What’s the matter Don; you aren’t going to let a girl beat you like this, are you?” Don stopped squirming, he was winded. He felt Rosalie’s grip on his arms slackened for just a moment. Seizing the opportunity, Don pushed his arms upward, forcing Rosalie onto her back. When he pinned her down, he looked into her hazel eyes, to find them full of surprise.
“No, I am not going to let a girl beat me.” He said, causing Rosalie to giggle. By this time, almost all of the young people present now stood in a circle around Don, Rosalie, and Collin. Rosalie and Don however, did not realize this.
“Alright love birds, knock it off.” One of the young adults yelled out, bringing Rosalie and Don to the sudden realization that the large crowd had been watching them. Don practically leapt off of Rosalie, before helping her to her feet. Both of their cheeks burned and they could tell that they were a dark scarlet. Don waved it off, before joining Collin, with Rosalie following; still as red as a tomato. Collin’s eyebrows were raised and he was grinning.
“I thought you said that you were just friends.” Don playfully punched Collin in the arm. Rosalie opened her mouth to say something but stopped at the sound of drums. It grew quite in the clearing as the sound of drums grew closer. A few moments passed, the only sound to be heard was the every approaching drum. Soon, a large group of drummers came into the clearing; all dressed in gold and burnt orange. They wore large hats with multiple different colored feathers sticking out. They stopped suddenly and began backing away from where they entered, stomping there feet were they stood and hammering on the drums that they carried. A large squad of Honor Guards followed after them, garbed in bright shirts of mail, dark pants and tunic, and golden cloak and hood. Great swords were sheathed at their waists and they each held a long spear, the tips shining in the noon sun. Their helms were crafted of bronze. Without a command, the Guards pivoted on their heels and turned toward the drummers. Once in line with them, they spun around and thrusted their spears forward with a thunderous ‘hoo-ah!’ as a great oak chariots wrought with bronze rode into the clearing, pulled by two stallions; one as white as the snow, the other was black as coal. Inside the chariot were the leaders of the village and the Council of Elders; the Lady Ann and Lord Thye. The Lady was dressed in a flowing white robe and had a ringlet of white Love Tree flowers upon her silver head. The Lord wore white breeches and a silver shirt of mail, along with a white cape. He too had a ringlet placed on his silver head. Despite their age, they both still appeared to be in the prime of their youth, and they held themselves with pride.
The drumming ceased as the chariot halted and the Lord and Lady stepped down from it, passing down the line of drummers and Guards, who saluted the pair as they passed. They stopped in front of the crowd and the Lord removed a rolled piece of parchment from his pocket. Don, Rosalie, and Collin were terrified; their palms were sweaty and they could feel their hearts beating in their throats.
“Will Collin Aberon please step forward?” Lord Thye called out. Collin grew as pale as death as he approached the Elders. He stood in front of the Lord and Lady; shaking like a leaf.
"Hold out your hand, son.” Lady Ann commanded with a clear, yet gentle voice. Collin shakily obeyed, placing his large brown hand in front of the Lady. She gingerly took it and placed her other hand on the top of his. She closed her eyes as she felt his hand. Her eyes opened as she announced his career.
“Carpenter.” She proclaimed. Collin breathed a sigh of relief and removed his hand before stammering ‘thanks’. He returned to the crowd, where he was congratulated and patted on the back by Don and Rosalie. They began talking amongst themselves, ignoring the other people in the crowd as they were called up, until
“Will Rosalie Davon please step forward?” Rosalie looked at Don, who gave her a reassuring smile. She took a deep breath and ventured over to the Lord and Lady. The Lady smiled sweetly at her as she took her hand. She closed her eyes as she felt Rosalie’s small, pale hand. She opened her eyes and proclaimed
“Herbologist.” Don could see Rosalie’s face fall in disappointment. She quickly hid it and thanked the Lady, before sulking back over to her place next to Don and Collin. Don wrapped an arm around Rosalie’s shoulder in an attempt to cheer her up.
“You’ll help me, right?” She asked, her disappointment thinly veiled. He nodded his head, gently squeezing her shoulder.
“It’s a lot easier than it seems.” She looked at him skeptically. Again, time passed as they talked, until they heard
“Will Don Louvus please step forward?” Don turned toward the Lord and Lady, squared his shoulders, glanced at his friend’s and strode forward. Anxiety grew within him with each passing step until he stood before the Elders. He offered his hand, which the lady took, closing her eyes. Moment, by painful moment she caressed his hand.
“Honor Guard.” She finally said, so quietly that Don had to ask her to repeat herself. When she did, Don could feel the color drain from his face. The Honor Guard was the military of the village and was the enforcers of the laws laid down by the Council. They were notorious for their brutally punishments and strict training protocols. The Lady opened her eyes and released Don’s hand, who mumbled ‘thank you’ and returned to Rosalie and Collin. The terror in his heart must have shown, for they seemed deeply concerned when they saw him.
“What’s wrong?” Rosalie asked.
“Did you get stuck working as Rosalie’s assistant?” Collin asked, causing Rosalie to glare at him for a moment before returning her gaze to Don.
“Honor Guard.” He whispered softly. He saw the realization, and then shock enter their eyes as their faces paled. Collin chuckled nervously.
“You’re kidding, right?” Don shook his head. Rosalie embraced Don; patting him on the back as a mother would a frightened child.
“Don’t worry about it, Don. I’m sure that the stories we hear are exaggerated. I’m sure that you will do great.” She cooed.
“Just don’t die.” Collin added, which again caused Rosalie to glare at Collin. Don chuckled darkly, causing Rosalie to look back at Don. She leaned in close, her mouth at his ear.
“When things get difficult, just think about me, okay?” Don felt some of the color return to his face as Rosalie withdrew. He nodded and said
“Okay.” For the third time that afternoon, Don, Rosalie, and Collin
broke into conversation until they heard the thundering sound of drums; signaling for the crowd to become quite. The trio looked over at the Lord and Lady, who stood hand in hand in front of the crowd. The Lord motioned for the drumming to cease before returning his gaze to the crowd. The Lord released the Lady’s hand and stepped forward, clearing his throat. He looked over the crowd before beginning a speech that he had recited dozens of times before in his long life.
“I would like to congratulate the young adults present in this crowd, for you are the future of our village. I pray that you are proud of your career, and that you will do them diligently and honorably. You are dismissed.” The Lord turned and took the Lady’s hand before returning to their chariot. Using the reigns, he motioned for the horses to turn around and to take them back to the village. The Guards spun around and marched after the chariot, with the drummer’s following, slamming on their drums. After a few moments, the young adults in the crowd followed after them, leaving Don, Rosalie, and Collin alone in the clearing. Collin looked at the two before grasping each one’s hand and left the clearing. Rosalie looked at Don for a moment before embracing him. They held each other in their soft arms for what seemed like hours until Rosalie broke away and left, leaving Don alone in the clearing. He looked down at his hand for a moment before looking up at the trail and followed after the crowd.
* * *
Don stepped through a low lying shrub, shaking his leg to remove any stray leaves and twigs and looked up at his home village; Acarta. There was a great many of houses, most of them were small, and sturdy homes with railings on the front of their porches. The other kinds of houses were two story homes, some with windows in the upper levels of the homes. All of the homes were shingled and made from the logs from red oaks. In the center of the village was a stone fountain crafted in the shape of a horse drawing a chariot over a wave. Inside the chariot was one of their gods; Léku, the goddess of water. Behind the fountain was the home of the Council of Elders, which also served as the village’s court house. Throughout the village, a prison, theater, bakery, school, Honor Guard academy, butchery and library were scattered. Don inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the smell of fire, wood, and pastries.
He sighed contently, releasing the enticing smells. This was one of the few places in the Kingdom that was completely self-governed, with no representatives from the Royal Order interfering with the village’s society. He doubted that the village would notice any difference if the King was overthrown and replaced by a leader from a different country. Don began strolling through the village, greeting bystanders as he passed. Despite the overhanging fear of the Honor Guard, he whistled a tune happily as he went to check on his family. They lived on the outskirts of the village, near the tree line. It was a small single story home just like the others, except for the small chicken coop of to the side, and the Love Tree garden his mother grew with the carrots, turnips, and beets.
He stopped at the door, holding the smooth wooden handle in his firm hand. He prayed that his parents would not worry about the career that was chosen for him. He opened the door and was tackled to the ground by a small creature. It was his family’s dog; Spot. He was a mutt that they had found in the forest and had decided to take in. Aside from Rosalie and Collin, Spot was Don’s closest friend. Don laughed and playfully shoved the dog off of him, and patted his head as he sat on his hunches, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. It was dark inside the home, save a fire from stove where his mother was preparing the evening’s supper. His father was sitting in a large chair in the home’s saloon, smoking his pipe. His mother was nearby; knitting a small blanket for Don’s soon to come brother or sister. His father was staring through the door, apparently confused as to why Spot had bolted out. Don saw the worry leave his father’s eyes as he entered. Don closed the door behind him after Spot trotted in. The dog went to a small rug in a corner, his bed. His father’s large, hairy hands went to his mouth, removing his well-worn pipe. He stared at his son before asking
“How did it go?” Don shrugged his shoulders as his mother looked up from her knitting.
“What careers did Rosalie and Collin receive?” his mother asked. He told them that Collin had received carpentry, which his father mused at. He then told them that Rosalie had received herbology.
“What did you receive? Are you a merchant like your old man?” His father asked which his mother cleared her throat at, causing his father to look over at her.
“He could also be a farmer like his mother.” She said with raised eyebrows. His father chuckled and scratched the back of his head. Don swallowed; his throat dry.
“I received Honor Guard.” Don could see the disbelief creep into their eyes. His father’s pipe fell from his hands and his mother placed her scarred hands over her mouth.
“My son, are you jesting?” He shook his head. His father rose from his chair, towering over his son. He could see tears forming in the elderly man’s normally dry eyes. He embraced his son and laughed. “Who would have thunk? My own son, Honor Guard material!” He released his son, still laughing. His mother looked at him in disbelief.
“How can you say that? Our little boy shouldn’t- isn’t going to be an Honor Guard!” His mother shakily rose from her seat. She placed a hand on her hips, attempting to stay balanced from the weight of her pregnancy. His father smiled, revealing a missing tooth on his lower jaw.
“But that’s the thing love, he isn’t a little boy anymore, he is a young man, and a damn fine one at that!” He grabbed Don’s hand, placing a small purse filled with coins. Don looked at the pouch before looking at his father in confusion. “I want you to go have some fun during your last day as a child. Go buy something nice for that Rosalie girl you talk about so much. Be back by sundown.” Don felt his cheeks burn as his father showed him to the door, with Spot having risen and following after him. He looked down at Spot before venturing off to the village.
Don walked through the village, unsure of what to buy. Although a great many things caught his interest, he didn’t want to spend all of the coins that his father had provided him. He ultimately stopped in front of the blacksmiths shop, examining a large dagger that held his glare. It was wrought of iron and had a small ruby embedded in the pommel. Leather was wrapped around the handle. A black leather sheath was placed next to it. The blacksmith noticed Don looking at the knife and approached him. He was a bear of a man, his large hairy arms easily thrice the size of Don’s and Collin’s together. He had an unruly beard that he would occasionally thread his fingers through. His dark swine like eyes studied Don before he picked up the dagger, presenting it to Don.
“Do you like what you see?” He asked. Don nodded his head.
“I do.” The blacksmith placed the knife in Don’s hand, who judged its size. He looked down at it for a moment before looking back at the blacksmith. “How much?” The blacksmith’s face twisted into that of a man calculating his ability to win a game of cards.
“One hundred seventy-five adros.” Don could feel his eyes grow large at the ridicules price. Any family in the village could be able to purchase at least ten times as many objects for one hundred seventy-five adros. Don placed the knife back on its display, shaking his head. The blacksmith seemed saddened by his decision but did not object. Don walked away and returned to looking around the village’s vendors. He unknowingly wandered over to the home of the village’s weaver, who had different pieces of cloth laid out. Rosalie enjoyed speaking with the weaver when she was available, and was particularly interested in a pearl white scarf that the weaver had yet been able to sell. Rosalie however was unable to afford the scarf, since none of the children or young adults are given any forms of money until they receive a career. Don stood examining the scarf. He lifted the scarf up, rubbing his opposite hand over it, admiring its softness. He understood why Rosalie liked the scarf so much. He looked up then round for the weaver. When he found her he asked how much the scarf was.
“Ten adros.” She said her voice raspy and horse. Don opened the purse and counted out the coins. Once done, the pouch felt significantly lighter. He pocketed the purse and the scarf and left the weaver’s presence. He still had an hour or two of sunlight left before he had to return home, and he wondered what he should do, since he had barely any money left over. He snapped his finger’s as realization dawned on him. The theater! Why hadn’t he thought about it earlier? Rosalie and Don would often visit the theater together. Collin would occasionally join them, but he usually didn’t due to his dislike of plays. Don grinned as he maneuvered his way through the town toward the theater, remembering one instance where Don and Rosalie had literarily dragged Collin into a theater to keep the two company during a play.
He greeted the curator of the theater before stepping inside of the first level of the theater house. It was a two story building with a large hole in the ceiling, removing the need for artificial lights during the day. He looked around the theater to find other people already seated, apparently waiting for a play to begin. One girl in particular caught his attention in the group of seated people. It was a girl with honey like hair and creamy white skin. He grinned and quietly went over to the girl’s seat. Once behind her, he grabbed her shoulder’s, causing her to jump out of her chair. She spun around, her right hand raised in a fist. Don backed away, raising his hands to his chest innocently. She glared at Don before playfully punching him in the shoulder as she sat down.
“Don’t do that to me.” She said as Don hopped over the row of seats, before sitting next to Rosalie. He shrugged his shoulders before stretching his arms out.
“I brought you something.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes.” She did as he asked and closed her eyes. Don waved a hand over her face to make sure before standing up, taking the scarf out of his pocket. He wrapped it around Rosalie’s neck before sitting back down.
“You can open your eyes now.” Her eyes fluttered open and she immediately looked down at the scarf wrapped around her neck. Her mouth fell agape in awe before she looked up at Don, who simply smiled.
“How did you…?” her voice trailed off.
“I have my ways.” He teased with a twirl of his finger. She smiled at him before leaning her head on his shoulder. He heard her sigh contently as the play began. Don wrapped an arm around her as they sat and watched the play. The play ended as the sun began to hide itself and the moon rose to replace its yellow counterpart. Don rose and stretched before helping Rosalie out of her seat. He offered her his hand which she took. He led her out of the theater and wished her a good night once outside. She held his wrist as he attempted to leave, causing him to look back at her. She stood on her toes and kissed Don on the cheek. Despite the dimness of the twilight, Don could tell that Rosalie was blushing. He too seemed surprised by her action until she turned away and left to go home. He stood there, rooted to the ground as he felt the spot where her soft lips had touched him. He grinned before returning to his home. He found Spot lying on their porch, who raised his head as Don approached. Don entered the house, allowing Spot inside before joining his mother and father for their supper of bread and soup. After they had supped, he went to his bedroom and crawled into bed. He was still contemplating what had occurred that day when he fell asleep.
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