The Heir of Flames, Act 1 - Part 1

Act I of The Heir of Flames:

The Errant

I A Knight shows deference to Casilla and to her Sisters
II A Knight is a shield to the weak and defenseless
III A Knight shows pity to the widow and orphan
IV A Knight does not boast of her deeds, but simply speaks the truth
V A Knight despises ill-gotten gains, lies, and treachery
VI A Knight fights for peace and the welfare of all
VII A Knight obeys the just ruler's words
VIII A Knight does not dishonor her fellow Knight
IX A Knight sees a task through to the end
X A Knight respects the honor of men
XI A Knight does not refuse a challenge
XII A Knight does not flee from danger

-The Twelve Laws of the Knight

“No, such a thing will never happen.”
I only felt a slight hollowing in my heart at the battlematron's words, it was the answer I'd been expecting, after all. I hunched my shoulders and stole a glance at the girls to my side, who were hiding their laughter with varying degrees of success. I gradually became aware of how hot my face felt, and how nice it would be to retreat back into the shade of the nearby Gnarltree... but not before I was sure beyond any doubt.
“Why can't I become a knight? I've trained for years for this chance, what do I lack?”
I already knew the answer, of course. It would be because I wasn't a woman, and therefore I lacked the bodily strength to perform as expected. It was evident to everyone assembled, me most of all, as I craned my neck up at the battlematron to await her response.
“Because you're too short, obviously.”
It wasn't the way she said it, or the way she placed emphasis in such a way as to single me out even among my male peers. It wasn't that she bent down as she said it or the way she held her armored hips in the manner of an adult lecturing a misbehaving child. No, it was the way her thin lips curled in cruel amusement at my inquiry that set me off; although those other things helped, especially the leaning down part, as it put her face within arm's reach.
My hand had already moved before I had taken another breath, it curled into a fist by the time I did, and connected with her round jaw before the next. I'll be the first to admit that I have a bit of a complex about my body, my height, or lack thereof, being the chief problem. Every male in Arcelia is at least a head shorter than the woman next to him, and I've yet to meet a man who's doesn't have at least a head on me. This, coupled with my inability to improve my physique beyond lean, wiry muscle has proven quite the sore spot for me.
Still, I'd caught the battlematron in a compromising stance, which served to augment my sucker punch to the level it needed to knock down a knight in full armor - well, full armor minus the helmet, but that's still pretty good. She seemed dazed for a few moments, as if piecing together why she was suddenly on the ground, but she figured it out soon enough. She picked her self up out of the hot dust; slowly, never taking her narrowed eyes off of mine. She took her time to return to her full, and quite menacing, height as she unstrapped her gauntlets, but I didn't run. Did I have something to prove to her, or to myself? Was I just tired of running? Or maybe-
Her left hook caught me just under my rib cage, so fast it seemed she jumped instantly between positions. The force of the impact sent my spiraling into the dirt, where I landed hard on my shoulder. I spat blood from my mouth as I gagged on the swirling dust, desperate to bring air into my emptied lungs. After a second of heavy breathing, I managed to find my feet and face her again. I wound up another punch, but the battlematron was ready this time. She caught my fist mid swing and directed the blow downwards, where my face met her waiting knee.
It was a glancing blow, but my skull still shook from the collision. I was somehow able to throw my arms out in front of me and prevent my throbbing face from meeting the ground as well, but only just. A steady stream of blood leaked from my nose, which felt curiously heavy and puffy, pooling in drips in the cracked earth. I shook my head and pushed off the ground-
A third blow belted me across the back, driving me into the dirt; I wasn't getting back up from that one. After what I judged to be a minute, I felt two strong hands drag me back towards the shade. A scrap of ivory cloth was thrust into my face; not unkindly, but in the manner of one ensuring that someone with poor vision would be able to make it out. I accepted it with a nod and stemmed as much of the bleeding as I could, trying all the while not to feel guilty about staining such a good piece of handiwork with the result of my outburst.
But with the blood off of my face I was able to get a better look at the handkerchief, and I couldn't help but admire the careful stitching on it. It sported a fanciful cross-weave pattern that evoked flowering plants being fanned by a morning breeze, or at least that's what I thought while willing my head to stop spinning. It was very well done though, certainly not a cheap thing to be proffered so willingly. Despite my best efforts, I was already ashamed of the crimson streaks that now marred the handkerchief, to the point were I was ready to offer an apology for using it, but one look at the face of the woman who gave it to me erased such a thought from my mind.
She had a stout face; neither hard and angular, nor soft and round, but somewhere in between. Cropped, spiky hair of faded white offset eyes of deep brown, perhaps with a tinge of red to them. A bulbous nose sat perched upon a wide mouth, whose thick lips were bent into a gentle smile. I knew this face, as so many other people did; Battlematron Norya En-Sond, the leader of the Outbound Swords. To see it this close, and even more oddly, to see it with something other than the bored scowl of the banners that bore her visage upon the breeze, was nothing short of remarkable. I struggled to find my voice, but she was quicker.
“That was some punch, lad. Crena won't be hearing the end of this for a long while yet.”
Norya's voice wasn't quite what I'd been expecting either. Instead of the low growl I'd always imagined, she spoke in a startlingly high, almost sing-song tone. If she wasn't a knight she'd be an easy fit for a bard or a balladsmith. But her singular focus on my insubordinate actions still caused me some unease.
“Shouldn't have lost myself there, must have been the heat that got to...”
I trailed off because I'd made the mistake of rubbing my nostrils with the back of my hand, a nervous tick of mine I'd tried and failed to break on multiple occasions, breaking the fragile clot that had formed within. I quickly stuffed two corners of the rapidly dirtying cloth up my nose, which must have been funny because it got a laugh out of Norya.
“Seems she got you pretty good too! Not any man that can take a punch from Crena and walk away from it!”
“Limp away is more like it...” I muttered, only half to myself. “I'm pretty sure she pulled her punches too.”
“Nonsense! Crena doesn't do anything halfway, love. She just likes the tactile feel of bone on bone in a fistfight.”
She certainly liked that fight then. My lower ribs were definitely fractured on the right side, but I appreciated Norya's attempt to sooth my wounded pride. Which begged the question, why wasn't she chewing me out for assaulting a fellow knight?
“If you don't mind my asking Lady Norya, I can't help but feel I should be in more trouble than I'm in at the moment. Did I do something heroic to negate punching Lady Crena, or didn't I?”
Norya's bushy eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and she gave a half turn over her shoulder, but in the end she just decided to speak her mind.
“Tis' not an easy thing to knock down a fully armored Battlematron, especially for a man, and even more so for a man so... young as you are.”
“She wasn't expecting anything...”
“Neither were the two squires I lost to Loricadon six days ago. Someone who can surprise a superior opponent is far more prepared to defend against the unpredictable.”
A creeping realization began to spread through my mind, a host of thoughts I dared not acknowledge lest they fled from my grasp.
“But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Coy lad, aren't you? I'll be upfront with my intentions then. I'm looking for a squire, one who can land a punch and take one tin turn. It's not a stepping stone to knighthood for you, but it's a great way to move towards becoming a scholar or armor master. I can't say it'll be-”
“I'll do it.”
I can still barely comprehend the stroke of good fortune that was visited upon me that day. While male knights are unheard of, young men of sufficient physical and mental prowess could prove worthy enough to serve as squires for a few years. Scholarly and metalworking disciplines were just a few of the paths that a man could pursue after his tenure had expired; but at the moment, I was far more interested in the prospect of traveling with a band of true-blooded knights like the Outbound Swords than I was in managing my future career.
Norya's lips parted into a toothy grin and she hoisted me onto my feet.
“Glad to hear you're quick with a decision as well! On behalf of the Outbound Swords, I am proud to welcome you into our sorority of proud warriors! You'll trace the same footsteps as the great sisters of old; names like Zema of Holdran, Le-”
She stopped suddenly and smacked her forehead in mock frustration.
“What's your name?”
“I'm sorry?”
“Your name, lad. I forgot to ask you your name all this time.”
“Oh!” I extended my hand. “Lumen Rakathir.”
“Norya En-Sond.” she replied, gently engulfing my hand with her own.
Her handshake was surprisingly loose, not to mention somewhat rigid. If she hadn't been so quick to offer me her personal effects I would have suspected she was trying to make as little contact with my hand as possible. Maybe she just didn't like shaking hands with people.
“So... what happens now?” I asked as our hands returned to our respective sides.
“The dull parts I'm sorry to say. We have to fit you for armor and weapons, acquire supplies, mundane things, really.”
If she was expecting me to be disappointed, she was quite mistaken. I was well aware that such preparations had to be made before any expedition could be launched, and I was actually a bit eager to discover the minutiae that enabled the Outbound Swords to function as a cohesive, self-sufficient band of explorers. We wove back through the crowd of prospective knights, keeping our pace steady as we stuck to the outskirts around Drevli.
“Been here long?” Norya asked.
“Two years, or close to it.”
“Nice place to live?”
“Wouldn't know, haven't been anywhere else.”
Norya stopped.
“What?”
I sighed and pointed off into the distance, where the vegetation gradually gave way to an endless sandy horizon; the Kholmarra Desert.
“About two years ago, a man found me out there in the desert; thinks I'd crossed all the way from the other side. He brought me here and paid the people to fix me up. I've been training my body since then... to get stronger, to find that man and thank him for saving my life.”
“What did he look like?” Norya asked with a strange expression on her face.
“Not sure, he kept his face hidden in bandages... he was pretty big though.”
Norya arched an eyebrow at this last detail, so I hastily amended my answer.
“But I suppose he might have just looked big to me.”
She flashed me a small smile and turned back towards the desert, apparently lost in thought. She stood there for some time, her grin slowly dropping into a subdued grimace. I guessed that she was recalling some incident involving Kholmarra from her past, but thought it rude to interrupt her musing. She broke the silence instead.
“Do you... remember anything about what lies beyond Kholmarra, by chance?”
Yes, definitely something to do with her past. The Outbound Swords were mainly charged with keeping maps up to date and patrolling Arcelia's borders, so it followed that she must have ventured out into the desert at one point in her career. By the rapidly darkening look on her face, it didn't go very well.
“Not... not really. I lost my memory about almost everything before waking up in Drevli. There's... a couple of vague things... but... they've gotten pretty faint by this point.”
“What do you mean by that, exactly?” Norya asked.
I closed my eyes and willed the scraps of memory to appear, but little responded. There were flashes of light, hazy horse-shaped figures, and whispers... whispers in a child's voice? I felt like there used to be more, or at least that what I had was a little clearer, but I couldn't be sure of even that. I relayed these images to Norya as best I could, and was surprised to see her mood suddenly brighten.
“Horses! Ah... I remember horses. Lady Reisca used to ride one of the last ones, you know. A fine beast he was... I believe he was called Malmen.”
“There aren't any horses in Arcelia?” I asked.
“Not anymore, Loricadon hunted them all down. We thought it would be best not to try bringing any back in back in by export, since those lizards got a taste for them. But it is good to know that they're still out there somewhere. Hope they're happy...”
I nodded in assent, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease the more I dwelt upon those horses in my memories. Something felt... off about them, but I couldn't recall just why.