Black Castle, Agora.
There were times in the year that it would be commonplace to see different people come and go from the fortress. Knights, private guards, mercenaries, warriors; mostly because Agora stood between the borders of several nearby countries and served as a neutral zone for traveling people.
People from different ethnic backgrounds would come together and take rest within the walls. Lord Ragnell welcomed them all without much conflict. It also helped the soturis become acquainted with people from all walks of life.
In a normal annex of the fortress, the Lord had an arena built for soturis to train with other people. It could be a resident of the castle, or just passerby's looking to spar while they rest in between travels.
The sounds of swords clashing, the tension in the air thick as soturis gathered around the platform watching the fight.
A man who looked to be in his 40s moved effortlessly, dodging each blow with his sword that seemed more like an extension of his arm. The other, a man in his 20s, moved with persistent desperation, body soaked in sweat from swinging the very heavy sword.
"Has Vyron come and challenged another guest?"
Vyron is the person with the heavy sword, stomping his feet with every swing. Although one hit would certainly leave you with a bruise and broken ribs, the man in his 40s did not seem to care. His footwork is flawless and evaded his moves without breaking a sweat.
"Let him be. We all know how much he has been training desperately for since he was saved by Vihrea during an expedition."
"What has he ever done to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said it kind of sneeringly, as if you can't stand to see his face."
"A commoner like me can't stand snobbish nobles like him. The zweihander he holds is a waste on him."
He was not sure what kind of nobility Vyron possessed, only hearing from Fleur that he is a son of a marquis from Werdolf. He was apathetic to the conflict of nobles, but Vyron's attitude towards the other soturis in the castle made him look down on him.
Fleur sighed, "You shouldn't be too obsessed towards him. You and him are both fellow citizens from the same country. Albright Verona and Vyron Langston fits. You could be friends." She teases.
Albright scoffed, not even slightly amused by the idea. "He and I would never be friends."
"Nothing is impossible. You might eat your words." She shrugged and changed the topic. "In any case, he'll never be able to improve in that state. I think that incident did something to him."
Al ignored it and said, "By the way, where are Porte and the others? He would usually be here while eating his odd snacks."
"I'm right over here though?" Porte said in a low voice, raising a brow as if he couldn't believe he never realized he had been here.
"Since when?"
"Since the beginning, ignorant fool."
"Whatever." Al rolled his eyes and asked again, "So where are the others?"
"I'm not sure who the others you're referring to, but Vihrea is in the library."
"The library? I didn't know she liked reading."
Fleur was appalled. "We've known each other for a few years now and you don't know that?"
"...No." Albright did not want to admit he was not a good listener. "So why is she there? I mean, obviously to read but it's daytime and there's a fight in the arena."
Before Fleur could answer, the crowd cheered as Vyron had his sword knocked out of his hand, ending the fight. He hunched over as he panted from the exhaustion. Without much resistance, he bowed his head to signal his defeat.
He knew that he was no match. A 4th class soturi like him competing with a man in the 7th class? There really was no winning. But still he wanted to see the disparity of their skills. He was not close, not even a little at all.
"The son of Marquis Langston has immense potential, but I suggest you change that sword of yours. It drags you down." The man said as he also bowed in respect, sheathing the sword in his hand.
The zweihander had been a gift from his grandfather, a symbol of his legacy before he passed. It wasn't uncommon to be handed down swords from generation to generation, but Vyron was unwilling to change it for anything else because he knew the weight it bears.
"I understand that. But there is a reason I cannot let this go."
The man stayed silent.
"Just because it was given to you does not mean you have to force yourself to use it. Your grandfather was a great man, but he was not exactly known for being the best at teaching."
Vyron furrowed his brows, as if he couldn't believe that there was someone from here who would know his grandfather. The man recognized his look and chuckled lightly.
"We were never close, but he could be considered half a mentor to me growing up. Not in sword skills, of course."
"Who exactly are you?"
The man smiled and turned towards the crowd. "I'm the new instructor that will be temporarily staying in the castle. I am Kapfem Vikram, invited by the Lord to guide you all while I stay here.
For the next 3 months, I will be in and out of the castle. If you'd like to seek guidance or spar with me, I will often be in the west annex. If you do not see me in the castle, then I am out on an expedition or errand. Pleasure to meet you all." He smiled, his almost pale skin seemed translucent he could be mistaken as a sick person.
The crowd of soturis whispered among themselves, obviously taken aback that a random man Vyron had pulled out for a spar was the new instructor they kept hearing about.
Kapfem did not seem to mind the whispers and promptly retreated. He shot a meaningful look at Vyron, who now sat on the edge of the platform processing the words he had said to him.
Albright and the others shot him a glance, but also went about their own way until the crowd scattered to their own agendas.
Meanwhile, in the east wing of the fortress, Vihrea was immersed in the thick book in her hands, the chronological events of what happened in Werdolf during the time when the continent had split into the 3 mainlands of Eos.
She had buried her head reading these books for the past ten years. Every page and every content slowly analyzed to search for something, anything that could tell her where she came from.
"When the Great Divide split the continent into 3, many people were displaced, tribes and families either split off or died, and many survived by constantly traveling between islands.
Eos was the center of the world and nothing is clear as to why it had happened. Rumors tell of a group of people who incurred the wrath of the gods, resulting in the upheaval of communities that had lived there since the earliest times. Flooded lands, constant quakes, battering storms. It did not seem to stop until the 9th day.
As for why the 9th day, there are only tablets and parchments with vague descriptions of gods and offerings and sacrifices, almost cult like behavior from desperate people driven to the brink of despair. What had stopped the tragedies? A sacred offering? A living sacrifice? In return for satiating the anger of the gods, how significant was the exchange for peace?
We might never know, only inferring from what survived during the great era."
The book she held was a new one. An essay from a scholar in Marmoris, who also wrote several accounts of the history of Eos since she was a child. It had been a struggle to buy the book because of how secluded Marmoris was, releasing limited copies.
But with the Lord's help, it did not take too much time until the fortress received a copy.
"You seem invested in that book."
Vihrea looked up to see Kassis. "Why are you here? Are you not supposed to be training? Or some expedition out in the mountains?"
"I was told to come find you."
"You found me. Now what is it?"
Kassis shrugged, but sat down in front of her. "They're asking to spar with you in the north annex."
"I'm a bit busy right now, as you can see." She said without lifting her head.
He couldn't understand her. Every break and breather they had, if she could she would spend in here, almost alone with the occasional bugs and the keeper.
If you looked at Vihrea, you wouldn't think she was a reader, not at all. She was very competitive but lazy, always found a way to make things easier for her without compromising, took training too seriously. That was how it has been for the past ten years they've been here.
But what exactly was she looking for? Kassis did not think to ask. The only thing he knew is that she is an orphan, like him, and was taken in by the Lord as a soturi.
"If you do not come, it is me who they'll nag for training."
"Then let them nag you. I'm not free right now and I'll be dispatched again soon so I want to finish this book before I leave."
It wasn't uncommon to be dispatched by the Lord to undertake some sort of request or favor that is asked of him from time to time.
Conflicts still existed, in some areas more, and rather than rely on mercenaries, people often preferred soturis. Nothing wrong with mercenaries, but the concept of vitalis protecting them made them feel more secure,
Kassis did not say anything more and sighed. "You owe me." He stood up and stared at her, unbothered and focused on that thick book. He set down a bodkin in front of her and left.
Vihrea continued to read the book until nightfall, occasionally scribbling on her small notebook.