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2024-10-29 19:42:56A cool breeze wafted between the bars of the cart, eliciting a tremble from Ilben. A week ago, a group of ten boys had been thrown in the cart after the battle–taken who-knows-where.
Ilben was inconsolable.
Even the presence of Owain did little to lift his spirits, as all he could think about was that fateful moment.
Shunk!
He could still hear the squelch as the blade was driven into his father’s heart. He could see the blood pooling from his body, and feel the rage boiling inside him. Then he could remember as the pommel of the sword hit him, and everything went dark. He had awoken inside the cart, rattling along the countryside, cold and hungry.
Owain wasn’t fairing much better. His will was broken and his heart ached to see his best friend in the state he was. On top of it all, Heshibald Crune was lost. King Harnkelt had taken occupation of the country after the final battle that left the Heshibald Crunains outnumbered five to one. Chief Yerg had been executed and now Heshibald Crune was part of the new empire called Kelt, after King Harnkelt.
It sickened Owain to the stomach. In just a month, Talora Kal had conquered Heshibald Crune and made it into its image. It wasn’t like he missed his family, but he would miss the rest of his friends, home, and people.
All this and more plagued them as the cart clattered suddenly from the forest paths onto a cobbled road. Immediately, ten heads raised and glanced around at their surroundings.
They had arrived at a lodge just outside the city. It was the size of two of Owain’s houses and built of layered logs and a steep roof. Hanging over a large cedar door was a plaque with the words: Grindles Children's Home.
Dread filled Owain. A children’s home!? He felt as if everything was coming crashing down. His life would be miserable! A picture of a child’s worst nightmare. Suddenly, Owain found himself missing his dismissive father and bratty siblings. Even though he knew there were worse fates, he still couldn’t shake the anxiety that he felt.
At the moment, Ilben was completely oblivious to the life that awaited him. He stared blankly into space and pondered his hate for now named Emperor Harnkelt of Kelt. He fingered the Kel’ga’rae around his neck, thinking of when his parents had given it to him; the memory like a dagger in his heart. He could still hear his father’s words: “This stone has been passed down from father to son in my family for around eight hundred years. Guard it with your life, and tell no one its true name, Kel’ga’rae,” he had said. Ilben felt a tear roll down his cheek, and wiped it away, furious at himself for being weak. He was a broken boy.
Elisa looked out from the window in her room to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals. Slowly, nine boys were herded out of the cart and into the home. There had been rumors of captives from Heshibald Crune coming to the home, and she felt for them.
By now, word had spread that Heshibald Crune had been added to the new Empire Kelt. It was a gross thought: That half of Ebeldeth would be part of the narcissistic king’s nation.
So Elisa ran out into the common room, and watched as the boys were shoved in. Most of them looked miserable, but one stood out. He was tall, muscular, and confident.
She approached them. “So, you guys have arrived at this wonderful place.”
The taller one looked up with a crooked grin. “Name’s Owain, how about yours?”
“Elisa,” she replied with an outstretched hand.
The boy seemed to realize something, and looked around. “Ilben!” he called.
After a second, another boy crawled slowly out of the cart. He was probably around the same height as Elisa, and was relatively thin. His long blonde locks hung around a tan face with piercing silver eyes. Even in his bedraggled state, he looked about with a fierce look on his face.
“This is Ilben,” Owain said cheerfully.
Ilben looked at Elisa, and she waited for any sign of emotion from him. He just grunted and strode past her. “What’s his problem?”
Owain sighed. “He just lost his father and country. Saw him cut down right in front of him.”
Elisa gasped. “I didn’t know.”
A shrill voice cut in. “Come on now boys, I will show you around,” said a plump woman.
“It’s fine; it was nice to meet you Elisa,” Owain said before striding away.
Elisa smiled. Maybe the home wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Owain and Ilben and the rest of the Heshibald Crunain boys followed Gerchin, the housekeeper, around the lodge. “So, these are to be your guys’ room,” she said, indicating a room with six bunks. “You will share the room with two more boys.”
She led them through some winding halls to a large room with tables and a kitchen in the back. “This is where you will be eating.”
Then they followed her outside. She led them to a shack around ten meters from the lodge. “This is the outhouse,” she paused. “That’s honestly all you really need to know.”
Silent as an owl, the group of boys trudged back to their rooms. As they walked in, they drew stares from around twenty other children who were hanging out in the common room.
One of the boys sitting at a table stood up and jeered. “How’d you boys like the Bloodied, huh? Serves you right, resisting the king.”
Owain rounded on him. “Say that again.”
The boy, who looked around Owain’s age, had a muscular build and long, greasy red locks. His face was ghostly pale and his features hawkish. His eyes were golden colored and his lips were curled in a sneer.
“I said, serves you right!”
Immediately, Owain lurched forward, but a few of the boys restrained him. “You beastly cur!”
The boy cackled with his gaggle of friends. “I always thought of your kind as pigs.”
“Burn in hell,” Owain spat, before being dragged away yelling obscenities.
Gerchin turned to Owain. “Ignore him, his name’s Lervstoe and he is always up to no good. Got put in here for stealing valuable jewels, he did.”
Ilben didn’t even pay attention, he just ignored his surroundings and stalked into their dorm. Then he fell on the bed and slept.
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Ilben, Owain, and Elisa crept silently through the nearby village, around a ten minute walk from the children's home. It had been around a year and a half that they had been there, and they needed adventure sometimes. At that moment, they were going to a tavern, at the dead of night. Supposedly, nobody knew they were gone, and they would be in massive trouble if the housekeeper figured out. The home had a sundown policy–meaning they couldn’t go outside past that time. It was around eleven at night. The night was a chilly one, with pouring rain and an icy wind. It didn’t help matters that children at the homes were given no extra clothes. So Ilben still wore his white tunic, trousers, and worn boots. Owain still wore a brown leather vest over a brown tunic, and black boots. While Elisa just wore a tattered dress. Shivering, they slunk between alleyways, and darted up to the Gutted Boar Tavern. From outside, they could hear raucous laughter and drunken singing from inside, a
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The girl smiled as the naive Githhaven citizen tried to guess where the dice was, to no avail. The girl–a street urchin–had been scamming people with the trick ever since an old “cripple” had taught her the year before. It was simple. The trick worked by a sleight-of-hand technique. One had simply to flip the dice out of the seashell it was in, into their hand, and back into a different shell. Many failed, but some figured out they weren’t going to guess the right shell and took a fifty-fifty chance on the other two. Currently, the girl was demonstrating the “trick” to a foolish man. “So watch as I slowly move the shells around, and you can see that the first shell is the one with the dice.” She then moved the shells around and instilled a false sense of confidence in the spectator by showing them that the dice was still in the original one. The man smiled, thinking he would make an easy fifty silver domfel (the currency of Talora Kal). So the girl shuffled
