During his time in Tranquility Mist, Shawnrik learned that physical labor had the benefits of toning his body while keeping his mind clear. As spring rolled around, he once again found himself working in the quarries and mines that were spread out in the mountains around the village. The hard work let him clear his mind for a time, forgetting the feeling that he was leaving someone behind. He read Victor's note at the end of each day, wondering where his friend was and what he was doing.
With all the work to do around the village and each person learning a different craft, there wasn't a lot of time left for socializing. He had attempted small talk several times with the other kids, but he had not met anyone who he would consider a friend during his time in the village.
It was during the summer that Shawnrik finally felt like he had a good grasp of the language and was willing to try to communicate using it with someone other than Pedrial. His first attempts were met with the same stoic patience that the Giants seemed to use with everything they did, and it wasn't long until he felt comfortable communicating with his neighbors.
All things considered, he rather liked his life in Tranquility Mist, but he knew deep down that he didn't belong there. When the night grew dark and the rest of the village was in bed, he would sneak out to a flat spot in the quarry and practice his sword and axe techniques, the way Ashur and Dunnagan had taught him. It was during those sessions that he felt the most at peace. That was one of the main reasons that he knew that he didn't belong, but it was by no means the only one.
One of the benefits of living among the Giants was that he was able to forget that he was now larger than any man he had ever met in Safeharbor. His clothes had already been modified several times to accommodate his growth, and by the time Harvest Festival rolled around once again, Pedrial decided that it was time for a new set of clothes entirely, something loose that Shawnrik had room to grow in.
He hadn't noticed when his voice had settled into the light baritone that he now spoke with, but he was glad that it had. As the days went by, he found himself growing much more comfortable with his body, and he found that his strength had grown considerably. The hardest part about his strength was learning how to control it.
It was very important when smithing that he not hit the metal too hard or too softly. Other things that people might take for granted, the Giants had to use great caution doing as well. Simple things like opening a door, or bumping into a post could quickly turn into a disaster. Knowing where you were, what was around you, and the strength of the things you were dealing with was crucial to every day survival.
On his rare free day, Shawnrik would explore the mountains, often running great distances to see what was just over the next hill. He had thought that his larger body would be slower, but he had been quickly disabused of that notion. His longer strides lent themselves well to increased speed, and he found that he could jump incredible distances. His strength let him climb wherever he wanted. If he couldn't find a hand or foothold, he simply made one. Shawnrik quickly began testing every limit, trying to find out everything that he was now capable of doing.
Shawnrik had spent the better portion of the day doing exactly that, and his exploration had brought him further afield than ever before. He now sat upon a massive rock formation that overlooked one of a multitude of hidden valleys in the Blade's Edge Mountains. The sun was slowly making its decent towards the horizon, coloring the sky in a multitude of pinks and purples. It would be well past dark by the time he made it back to the village, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Pedrial would likely not make a big deal about it—he never seemed to want to put extra rules on someone who was already well behaved. Shawnrik's run had been exhilarating, but it had also given him a lot of time to think about what was to come on the morrow. On New Beginnings three years ago, he had met his best friend for the first time, and sometime tomorrow morning ten years ago, Victor had been born. Last year, Shawnrik had spent New Beginnings huddled next to the fire in Pedrial Lightfeather's home, not yet used to the frigid cold of winter in the mountains. Tomorrow he would be off to someplace called Serenity Valley, where he would go to school for the first time in his life.
Shawnrik wasn't sure when his own birthday was; he thought it was somewhere in the month of Ragnós, which meant he was nearly halfway through his fifteenth year. When he thought about the fact that he was five and a half years older than his best friend, it made him laugh. Five years older than Victor, who had taught Shawnrik how to read and write Common, and speak it properly. Five years older than the boy who had been giving him advice ever since the day they met. Victor, who had disappeared, leaving only a letter that said that everything would turn out alright, even if he didn't know where on Terrazil he himself would end up. Even with his own future uncertain, he had been trying to reassure his best friend one last time.
A day never went by in the last year and a half where Shawnrik hadn't thought about his friend, but as time went by he found it a little more difficult to remember exactly what his friend had looked like. He knew that on the day that he saw his friend again, he would look completely different, but he still lamented the fact that his friend's image should fade into memory like that.
A cold wind blew through the mountains as the sun set to the west, throwing the eastern edge of Terrazil into twilight. Shawnrik let thoughts of the past drop with the sun as it dipped below the horizon, and he began looking forward to the new day. Someday he would meet his friend again, and he would be strong enough that they would never be parted again. The world was changing and he would change with it, using everything at his disposal to learn as much as he could for when that fateful day would arrive. With a sigh, he let go of all the worries for his friend that he had been carrying around and began his journey back to Tranquility Mist, and the future.
“Time for another day of work, tunnel rat.”
The voice arrived shortly before the toe of a soft-soled boot not so gently met the side of his torso, as it had every morning for as long as he could remember. Every morning—or what passed for it in these lightless tunnels—the foreman's toady would wake him up this way. The jerk never seemed to do it to the other workers. No, he only seemed to pick on the young human boy.
It being the only thing he had ever known. The boy found the action a little bit comforting, and just part of the daily routine. He had woken up in this place what seemed like forever ago, unable to remember anything from before. The only thing on him was a worn set of clothing and a pair of blood red manacles.
As he left the cell where the workers slept at night, he grabbed his pick and joined the line that was being shackled together in order for them to work the mine. The Goblin that had woken him was moving to the corner of the cell, waking several of the other workers, quite a bit more pleasantly than he had been awoken, the boy noted.
Taking his place in the line of Goblin-kin, he noticed that he was almost as tall as the shortest of them now. He had tried communicating with them, but none of them seemed to want to talk to the boy who didn't know who he was, and who also had the ire of the foreman's toady. The only names he had were boy or tunnel rat, but everyone else was called tunnel rat at times as well, so he referred to himself as boy. He knew he didn't belong here, but he didn't know where it was that he did belong, either.
“It's New Beginnings up top,” the Grey Elf who regularly escorted the group down into the mines said to no one in particular. “You know what that means? It means it's a new day for digging, so get to it!” With that, he cracked his whip, and the line began to move forward. A steady clank, drag, clank were the only sounds that accompanied them into the darkness.
Happy Birthday, a strange voice said. The voice had been so clear that the boy looked around to see who was talking. It took him a few moments to realize that the voice that had nearly made him stumble had come from inside his head.
Birthday?! Who are you? Who am I? Hello!? If there had been anything else in his head with him it was gone n
ow, or at least silent. He didn't have the time or energy to contemplate the idea that he was going crazy.
Chapter 2
The Institute
Year: 3045 AGD
New Beginnings
Continent of Terroval
Blade's Edge Mountains
Village of Tranquility Mist
“Are you ready?” the now familiarly gruff voice asked from across the room.
“I suppose I have to be,” Shawnrik replied.
“That you do,” Pedrial Lightfeather said with a slight chuckle. “Don't fear, though. You are a smart lad, and if anyone gives you a hard time, just punch them in the nose. That should dissuade any future problems.”
Punch them in the nose?! “Even if I were tall enough to hit some of them in the nose, I don't think that I'd like to get into a fight with any of them,” Shawnrik laughed.
“That is probably for the best, but I don't want you taking any guff from any of those boys at school...” The old Giant's laugh made a deep rumble in the back of his throat. With a wink, he added, “... nor from any of the girls, either.”
Shawnrik couldn't ever remember having blushed before, but he felt his face redden at his caretaker's comment. He wasn't sure why he was blushing exactly; he had never had to deal with girls before, but Shawnrik found that he became increasingly nervous around them nonetheless. “I'm just going there to study. Wherever there is.”
“Ha, I wondered when you'd get around to asking that question. I thought it might be about twenty minutes after you arrived at the Institute, as much as you talk.”
Shawnrik sighed. “I'm sorry I haven't been very companionable...”
“Think nothing of it, lad,” Pedrial said, waving his hands in the air as if pushing the thought away. “I have never liked people that talk too much, and you definitely do not fit into that category. As to where you are going, it is a beautiful place called Serenity Valley. It is the main trading center for our people, many people who live in this part of the world, and a select few other groups. Too many people for me, all told. The Institute is there, nestled in the middle of that hollow old mountain. They will give you room and board, just like they do for any other member of the village—and you are a member of this village, Shawnrik,” the old Giant finished passionately.
“Thank you...”
“Bah, don't thank me, you've done more work in a year than any of the other three apprentices that I’ve trained did in ten years studying with me. You've earned everything yourself."
Shawnrik couldn't help but smile at the Elder Giant's praise. Pedrial might seem senile at times, and it took a while to get used to the old Giant's expressiveness, but he was a very good man. “Well in that case, thank you anyway,” Shawnrik replied.
Pedrial laughed and patted Shawnrik on the back as he walked to another cupboard and began rummaging through its contents “Where is that damn...”
“What kinds of things can I study there?” Shawnrik asked, forestalling the litany of curses that he knew was about to be let loose upon the cupboards.
“What? Oh, yeah, well... you can study just about anything there. It is a very good institution, and it has been around for a very long time. I can't think of anything offhand that you can't learn there if you have the mind to. They have everything from Alchemy to Zoology. They make sure their students take a wide range of studies too, so none of this fighting training all day long for you!”
“Fighting training?” Shawnrik asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Aye, thought that might get your attention.” Pedrial harrumphed. “You can learn just about anything there, boy. As good as you are with those weapons of yours, though, they will probably try to teach you something else.
How good I am, how does he... Shawnrik looked up and saw that Pedrial was standing over him and smiling.
“What, you think you can sneak out of my house and no one will pay attention to where you go?” Shawnrik began to apologize for sneaking out, but the old Giant held his hand up to forestall it. “Don't you go apologizing. You haven't done anything wrong, it just isn't something the village is used to seeing. I know you aren't a village lad and I know you have more ahead in your life than living in this village, or the Watchers wouldn't have sent me for you.” Pedrial's grin returned. “It might interest you to know that several young ladies have been watching your nightly excursions for the past few months, however.”
Shawnrik groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“You're a strapping lad, get used to it. I have a feeling you are going to break more than a few hearts this year. Reminds me of myself when I was a lad. Why, there was this time...” Pedrial cleared his throat. “No time for that now. Here, I want you to have this.”
Shawnrik peeled his hands away from his eyes to see Pedrial's hand swinging something in front of his face. After a moments' consideration, he recognized a pair of bracers that he had seen lying around. They appeared to be made of a silvery metal with a gold inlay in the shape of two feathers that looked to be caught in a breeze.
“It isn't much, but it is worth all of the work you have been doing for me, and for the company.” Pedrial set the bracers gently on the table before Shawnrik.
“Oh sir, I can't take those, they're too nice.”
“Don't give me that 'sir' crap. You will take them, because it is the only thing an old man like me can give you. I don't have much, but I have these, and I want you to have them. Wear them proudly.” Pedrial pushed them a little closer. “And if you try to say no again, I'll show you that you aren't the only one that knows how to fight around here!”
Shawnrik knew that Pedrial had meant it as a joke, but a fleeting thought also made him wonder if it might also be the simple truth. Looking at the bracers on the table, he wondered how much more he would have to grow to be able to wear them, but as he reached out and touched the silvery surface they seemed to shrink in on themselves. He was amazed to find that not only were they a perfect fit, but what he thought was metal felt much more like stone to the touch.
Pedrial must have noticed his look of shock, because he laughed again. “I suppose this is the first time you've seen living stone? Those will fit you no matter how big those oak trees you call arms get, and they will help protect you when it is needed. Make sure you wear them at all times.” In a stern tone, he added, “If you dare mention not taking them now, I’ll throw you into the pond.”
It was Shawnrik's turn to laugh as he visualized just how easy it would be for the old smith to toss him into the pond. After a second, Shawnrik managed to thank the man through the lump in his throat.
“Don't mention it. Now, you have to get to the square, everyone will be leaving soon, and you do not want to be late.”
On their way through the village, Shawnrik kept trying to think of ways that he could give the bracers back without offending the Giant, but every time he was about to say something he would look back and see Pedrial staring down at him like a storm cloud. No wonder they are called Cloud Giants. By the time they made it to the square he had given up the idea, and Pedrial seemed to know it because he reverted back to his usually cheerful self.
The square held all of the children in the village over the age of eight, and those that were not running around screaming were standing about with barely contained excitement. Shawnrik wasn't really sure where he should stand, so he let Pedrial's hand on his back slowly guide him. A steady influx of villagers came to the square over the next few minutes, until a haggard looking Giantess nodded in what must have been approval, before intoning in a loud voice that it was time to go.
Shawnrik was surprised a moment later.
“Do well, and don't take anyone's crap,” Pedrial whispered.
Shawnrik nodded and shouldered his bags before falling into the line that was forming in the middle of the square. He briefly wondered how they would take all these little kids with them before the haggard looking lady walked up to the obelisk in the middle of the square. She moved her hands
in an odd pattern and then whispered something quietly. A few moments after she stepped back, a doorway appeared on the face of the obelisk, and people began marching into it. Shawnrik stood there staring at a doorway that had appeared from nowhere as if by magic, and it was only when someone gave him a gentle shove from behind that he realized that it was his turn to walk into the silvery portal.
As Shawnrik walked through the doorway, he was immediately assaulted by brightness. He exited into a white marble room that had glowing balls of light in brackets along the walls. Having heard stories about the globes of light that illuminated the halls of the Mages' Guild and the Royal Palace, Shawnrik assumed that must be what he was looking at.
When the doorway behind them closed with a barely audible zhoop, the twin doors at the front of the room swung open. The children and young teens around him stood respectfully erect as one of the most hideous individuals Shawnrik had ever heard of, let alone seen, walked into the room.
After careful consideration, Shawnrik decided that what he was looking at must be a troll. His first reaction after realizing this was to reach for his weapons, which were not where they normally were, as he had bundled them up and placed them into his packs. Another moment passed and he felt glad that he had been standing towards the back of the group, as everyone else in the room seemed to be standing with an air of reverence looking upon what Shawnrik assumed was a woman.
Curiosity quickly began to take the place of the panic he had felt moments earlier. Shawnrik began to wonder who someone would have to be to be that repulsive and still garner so much respect. The woman's skin was a dark green, and she stood nearly as tall as the two Giants who had entered the room with her. Bulbous growths could be seen across the woman's face, and he could see others on several other areas of skin that were showing. She was nearly twice as wide as any of the Giants he had seen thus far. Having heard stories about trolls and their savage might, he realized that those stories couldn't do justice unless you had seen one in person. He certainly wouldn't want to fight anything that big, especially if they healed anywhere near as fast as the stories said they did.
Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) Page 4