Young Writers Society

Just a note, this isn't the beginning

Ærost walked onto the bustling training field. Inhold, the swords master, was talking with Clæn in one corner of the large, constantly active, wood chip covered training field. Ærost sighed. His father had come to watch his training session. Inhold was a man in his late forties. He was heavily muscled and one of the best swords masters in all of Álía. As he came close he over heard a bit of their conversation.

“...is coming along?” Clæn was saying.

“There's not much more I can teach him my Lord Clæn.” Inhold replied. “We are working with edged swords today to improve precision. He has progressed rapidly since he started.” He turned a bit and noticed Ærost. “Ah. There you are. Are you ready for today's match?” He asked, drawing his sword.

“More than you are.” Ærost replied with a mocking smile.

Lord Clæn drew off to the side of the training field, while Inhold and Ærost faced each other, swords in hand.

Ærost leaped forward, swinging his sword at Inhold's shoulder. Inhold's blade met his in midair. Ærost disengaged with a flourish, then gave a thrust which Inhold parried. They traded blows back and forth, seeking a weakness in the other's defenses. Ærost spared a glance at his father as he had done every time his father watched a match. Clæn's face was impassive, as it always was. Ærost couldn't tell if he was pleased or not. While he was distracted for a moment Inhold made him retreat a small step. Ærost started a complex series of blows to recover his ground. He felt the gift start to flow through him. The magic pulsed so hard he flinched. The gift had a life of it's own. But his breath came a little quicker, and then his arm was a little quicker. Inhold's usual set face of concentration flickered a bit at the flash of his attack. Ærost dealt a couple of fast blows, and Inhold's sword went flying, but before he could react Ærost had flicked his blade up to his throat. They stood there for a moment, the student's blade at the throat of the master, then slowly Ærost lowered his sword. Inhold went and retrieved his. He sheathed it and gave his student a proud smile.

“Aren't we doing any more?” Ærost asked.

“There's nothing more I can teach you. You have just bested one of the best swords masters in all of Álía. I've met only one other person who could have beaten me like you just did.”

Ærost looked at his father. Lord Clæn stood as impassive as the last time Ærost looked. Clæn turned and headed towards the main door of the palace. Ærost sheathed his sword angrily. If only his father would recognise him for something he did. Even once.

“You did well.” Inhold said pulling him out of his thoughts. “Gleng would've been proud of you.”

“At least my mother would have felt something other than anger.” Ærost said gazing bitterly after his father.

“Don't be too hard on you're father.” Inhold said, seeing where Ærost looked. “He had a hard life.”

“What do you mean?” Ærost asked surprised. “How did he meet my mother in the first place? I don't know a thing about his past. I don't even know what Gleng looked like.”

Inhold looked around quickly, making sure none were in hearing range. Everyone else was engrossed in their own mock battles. “Later.” He said, then seeing Ærost's look he added, “I promise.”

Ærost was satisfied with his answer, for when Inhold made a promise, he never broke it.

~

Ærost unbuckled his sword and set it next to the dresser in his room. He grabbed his bow and slung it over his shoulders with his quiver, shrugging to make it settle comfortably. He went and looked out his door to make sure no one was coming. Then quickly he went to his wardrobe and uncovered the griffin egg. Every time he looked at it the dark veined pale gold color amazed him. He quickly made sure his heating spell was still working. He heard footsteps coming down the hall and quickly put the egg back and covered it. Just as he turned around there was a knock at his door. He stepped towards the door curious, yet cautious. He opened the door and was surprised to find Inhold at the door.

“Where are you going?” Inhold asked eying the bow and quiver slung across Ærost's back.

“Just up in the foothills of Lyfte.” Ærost replied.

“Would you mind if I came along?”

“Sure.” Ærost shrugged. “Do you need to get anything?”

“No. All I need is my sword and I already have that.” Inhold said touching the sword that hung at his hip. Ærost nodded and stepped out of his room.

They walked down the hall and out the main gate. They climbed the foothills at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no particular direction, but Ærost slowly, but surely guided them towards the griffin cave.

After taking a rather long roundabout to get there, they arrived at the cave.

“Come on.” Ærost said. “There's something I want to show you.”

Inhold looked a bit surprised, then chuckled. “And all the time I thought that I was leading.” He said.

Ærost smiled in return, then started down the rough, narrow, tunnel leading to the cave, conjuring a tongue of flame in his hand as he walked. Inhold followed still smiling to himself. As they entered the cave Ærost watched for Inhold's reaction to the griffin's nest. He wasn't disappointed when Inhold gave a start and started to reach for his sword.

“I already checked it.” Ærost said. “I'm pretty sure it's abandoned, but I would like you to check, just in case.

“Ærost, you know that you could equal even the Rangers at tracking.”

“I would still like you to look.”

Inhold complied and searched the cave. Finding nothing he turned to Ærost. “If there was anything more to find, you would have found it.” he said. “but tell me, what is it you wanted to get me alone for?”

“This morning you mentioned that my father had a hard life.” Ærost said. “But how can that be? Hasn't he always been a wealthy lord?”

“Not exactly.” Inhold sighed. “In order for you to understand I need to tell you a story that is known by only a few people about king Andig.” Inhold mentioned the title King with such sarcasm that Ærost looked at him in surprise. “One of the many things that King Andig has kept hidden” Inhold continued. “is that he had an older brother named Losian. This is Losian's story.”