Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  Daniel Skyblade has noticed that none of the students are really thinking about their classes. Some, he can tell, are thinking of their families and friends. Others are thinking about what might be lurking outside the wall. A few might even be plotting an attempt to track down and fight the Hellfire Elf. Thanks to his time with warriors of all kinds, Daniel can tell what is going through the mind of a student by their slightest twitch. Although, there are a few students that even Daniel can’t seem to figure out.

  “Class dismissed!” Daniel calls out to his students. “I know we’re ending early, but a lot of you aren’t into this today. Anything I teach you will be forgotten once you put your equipment away. So pack up and get some grub.” He watches as the students pack up their gear and walk off in various directions. When they are gone, he turns his attention to a student who is lying down under a tree.

  “Are we feeling any better, Lady Grasdon? You took a pretty solid hit to your ribs,” the noble says as he walks toward her. “I only hope that minor healing potion helped you. You should still get yourself checked out at the infirmary.”

  Kira rolls over to turn away from him. “It just hurts a little when I breathe.”

  Daniel raises his eyebrow as he sits by her head. He lets a few seconds pass before talking. “Is something on your mind? You seemed very distracted during class today. I will admit that you are not one of the best students in your year, but it was very obvious that you were mindlessly going through the motions. Are you scared about that demon?”

  “No. I’m safe as long as I stay in the academy,” she quietly responds.

  “Then, what is on your mind, milady? I promise not to tell anybody else if it’s something you’re embarrassed about,” Daniel swears as he begins picking at the grass. “I’m not a true teacher, so telling me that you broke a rule will not get you into trouble. I have had to keep so many secrets from Selenia over the years that I don’t even remember all of them.”

  With a new tinge of sadness in her voice, Kira whispers, “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

  “On the trade agreement that I have with your family, I promise not to repeat what you tell me here,” he gently declares, holding his fist to his chest. “What did you do wrong?”

  Kira sits up and pulls her knees against her chest. She sniffles a little, wincing as she feels her tender ribs ache. A few tears have streaked down her face, leaving salty paths down to her chin.

  “I have been thinking of something for a while now. I was able to ignore it before, but then some . . . things came up,” Kira whispers, blushing slightly beneath a curtain of black, sweaty hair. “I’ll just say it. I kind of have a crush on someone at this academy. He’s very unique and special, so I don’t think he’d give me the time of day. He probably doesn’t even know that I exist. Okay, he obviously knows that I exist, but he probably wishes we had never met because of a . . . incident or two.”

  “I never thought I’d hear a Grasdon say those words, especially when they have your looks,” Daniel admits with a tender laugh. “Let’s walk and talk. Too many prying ears can stumble into this place.”

  He gets to his feet and bends down to help Kira stand. She winces again when she takes a deep breath, stumbling against Daniel. He waits for her to steady herself with her practice staff before they begin walking around the academy. Kira stays silent until they stop near the eastern wall and she leans against an equipment shed. The bronze-skinned girl gingerly lets her hand trace random spirals on the side of the shed.

  Finally, Kira gulps down her anxiety and says, “Every member of my family has their fortune told when they become thirteen. It’s been a tradition since my ancestor formed the Grasdon Merchant House in response to a reading of his fortune. Well, I had my fortune told and it led to me being sent here once I turned eighteen. I was told that the keys to my true destiny will be found here. At the time, it sounded like a bunch of blather and superstitious nonsense to me. It still does, but I think I found someone who I want to know better. A person like me who might be one of my keys.”

  “I don’t follow,” Daniel apologetically admits. “You come from a politically powerful family while almost every other student comes from farmlands, small villages, or the street. In terms of geography, you are the only student from Bor’daruk. Lady Grasdon, you are a rarity in this academy.”

  Kira lets out a sigh before continuing, “The person doesn’t have to be from the same type of family. This person has the same kind of life. Both of us are famous and have expectations placed on us because we were born into our specific families. People always want me to behave like a rich heiress and subdue any improper thoughts that I might have. This places me in the roles of spoiled brat or obedient noble, which are nothing more than removable masks. I can only assume that this is what all children in my position have to cope with. It becomes an obsession for some of us to prove ourselves as individuals.”

  “The life of those born wealthy is easier than most, but they still have problems. Even if the problems sound like nothing more than illusions designed to give you the idea that you suffer through life,” Daniel says, struggling to follow Kira’s logic. “As a man who rose from very little, I would think that such expectations are easier to handle than poverty. What does this have to do with you being so distracted today?”

  “I want to get this guy to notice me. See, he lives with the same amount of expectations that have been put on me. They are different types of expectations, but they are very difficult to cope with,” Kira nervously explains. She begins wringing her fingers and shifting her feet. “The problem is that he’s so obsessed with getting to where the world expects him to go that he doesn’t have time for me. Although, I haven’t really tried to talk to him about this and it might be too late. Now, he will be even more obsessed with his path.”

  Daniel pulls out a long pipe and begins to smoke while thinking about what Kira is saying. A few birds land on the shed and start singing before the rings of pipe smoke get too close, forcing them to leave. Kira slides down the rough side of the shed until she can curl up on the ground.

  “I guess you’re talking about the Callindor,” Daniel finally says.

  “I’m sick of hearing people call him that,” Kira declares, a sudden surge of anger in her voice. “He has a first name. It’s Luke, if you hadn’t noticed. Why do people always call him the Callindor?”

  “Sorry, but you two are not as similar as you may think. I don’t even know where to begin pointing that out,” Daniel argues, trying not to sound condescending. “You are high society and he is an adventurer. You cannot tame him and I don’t see you entering the life of a wanderer long enough to form a long-term relationship with him. That’s just the most obvious difference, Kira. You should stick to your own world and avoid trying to tame warriors. I have seen many young courtesans fall from grace attempting to do so. This must be a phase that all young girls go through at some point.”

  “So, if I can talk to him about weapons and adventuring then he would be more likely to accept me?” she asks, hope brewing in her eyes.

  After some thought, Daniel begrudgingly answers, “Possibly, but you two are still very different. Besides, he has a lot more important things to think about right now. For young men like Luke, honor and duty come before love and girls. Well, in his case I would say it is more pride and ego than honor and duty. That kid sure can’t accept when he’s outmatched.”

  “Then, I’ll just have to work harder. If you really do know my family then you know we always get what we want,” Kira defiantly announces. “I can prove to you that Luke and I are similar to each other. By doing that, I can prove that I’m not just going through a phase. My dreams will not be ignored.”

  “Dreams?”

  “Uh, I mean, deep desire and want.”

  “You’re blushing, Kira. Care to be honest with me?”

  “Nope. Have a nice day, Sir Skyblade,” Kira quickly rambles. She gets to her feet and breaks out into a stumbling run toward t
he Bloodfae dormitory. “Thank you for talking to me and keeping this between us. Your trade agreement is safe.”

  Daniel picks up Kira’s practice staff and tosses it into the shed. He smiles as he realizes that the girl had only heard his advice on how to win Luke’s attention. Everything else was pointless noise to her ears. Though, he does begin to wonder if all of his years in high society have made him biased against the common folk. Long ago, Daniel was nothing more than a wandering mercenary with dreams of glory. His youthful dreams were not so different from those of any of Selenia’s students.

  “For both their sakes, I hope I’m wrong,” Daniel says, sighing heavily.

  *****

  Theresa flings her door open before Nimby can begin to knock. She glares at the halfling, ignoring Fritz who is standing off to the side. Nimby walks past her while Fritz waits in the doorway. She gestures the gnome in with a wave of her tail, a little taken aback by his lack of talking.

  “Looks like you’re still shook up by that demon, Fritz. It's probably going to take another day or three before you’re back to normal,” Theresa says, closing the door. She goes to get some water for her guests as they take a seat on the couch. “Before you two ask, I am not the Hellfire Elf. If I was then I would have killed Kellia in my room that day you interrupted us. Then, I would have removed you two to make sure there were no witnesses. I also wouldn’t be staying in the academy where I could be discovered by a very tense and paranoid Selenia.”

  “I know, but I want to know what you have to do with all of this,” Nimby claims, still cautiously eyeing Theresa. “You were alone with Kellia and I know that she isn’t one of your students. Fritz and I are here to find out what you are doing at this academy.”

  “I apologize for his bluntness,” Fritz interrupts, taking the glass of water. “We are both under some stress due to Luke’s condition. I hope that this can be done in a civilized manner.”

  Theresa curls up in a dark yellow chair and laps at her drink. “I must say that I’m impressed with Nimby being serious and Fritz being polite. This is a nice change from the last time we talked, but I can’t just tell you why I am here. Contract of secrecy forbids me from doing so. I wouldn’t be much of a professional if I gave away information for free. It would damage my reputation and be a strike against me in the eyes of future employers. You understand.”

  Nimby hops to his feet, looking visibly angry. His water splashes to the ground, but he doesn’t make any move to pick up the glass. He leaps onto the table that is between him and Theresa while Fritz continues to quietly drink his water. The gnome’s red eyes wander the room, taking in the brightly colored décor.

  “This isn’t a game!” Nimby shouts. “I want to know what a thief killer is doing here! This kind of job has nothing to do with the likes of you! Tell me!”

  Theresa eyes the halfling with amusement. “I see the little thief has a roar. It's funny how a thief who has nothing to gain from all of this is telling me that I have no reason for being here. Be honest, Nimby, you are in it for nothing more than a story to tell and any money that falls off whatever the Callindor is fighting. That is downright selfish considering you don’t have any skills that could help against that demon. Once all of the information is gathered, your usefulness to Luke is over. You become a liability who sticks around for loose change.”

  Fritz mutters a spell and a loud bang explodes between Theresa and Nimby. “Let’s behave ourselves. Nimby has a purpose and that is to be by Luke’s side until this is over. Aedyn and I have the same purpose. We don’t want to have to worry ourselves about why you are here. If you are on the same side as us then it would be beneficial for everyone involved to let us know. We could work together on this, Ms. Marley.”

  Theresa stands and goes to a small oak dresser in the corner of the room. She pulls out a thin case made out of dark red wood and returns to place it on the table next to Nimby. He looks up at her and silently nods his approval.

  “I haven’t made it this far by being a team player or spilling client information,” Theresa mentions, finishing her drink in one gulp. “But I will tell you what my purpose is if Nimby can defeat me in a game of Rodil darts. Win the game and I will answer your questions. Even my contract can’t stand up to a legalized guild game.”

  “I haven’t lost a game of Rodil darts in ten years and I don’t plan on losing now,” Nimby announces, hopping off the table and cracking his knuckles.

  “Rodil darts? What the hell is that?” Fritz asks, openly irritated by the sudden change of focus. “This isn’t the time for games. You said it yourself, you absentminded halfling. Am I the only one here who wants to be civilized and discuss things?”

  Theresa opens the box and pulls out four golden darts and a smaller dart made out of obsidian. “Let me explain how this works, Fritz. Rodil darts is a game that thieves play to get information out of each other. The guilds created it to stop infighting among guild members and continue the tradition of learning secrets. Each one of us gets one round with these five darts to get the most points. We don’t really have a true point system, but you get graded on the difficulty and precision of the shots that you take. You get double points if you do something impressive with the heavier obsidian dart. I prefer the daredevil version where my target will be Nimby and his target will be me. The target can lose and gain points depending on how much fear they show. Most importantly, you lose points if you shed the blood of your opponent. Since this is my home, I get to throw first.”

  “You can’t possibly go along with a game like this, Nimby,” Fritz whispers.

  Nimby ignores him and stands against the far wall, loosely crossing his arms over his chest. Fritz gets up to move the couch out of the way as Theresa rolls her shoulders, her tail flicking with excitement. Nimby doesn’t show any fear as Theresa begins to take aim. The first dart hits between his legs while the second cuts through the strap, keeping his dagger on his belt. The halfling remains against the wall, his eyes staring challengingly at his opponent. Theresa twirls around and lets the last two gold darts fly. One hits the wall next to his ear while the other slips harmlessly through a small gap between his arm and his side.

  “You’re either out of practice or really bad at this game,” Nimby taunts her

  Theresa flips the obsidian dart into the air and takes a quick step back. She nails the dart with a spinning punch, sending the projectile soaring toward Nimby. It snags the straps of a gold pouch hanging out of his pocket, pinning the pouch to the wall.

  “Guess I spoke too soon. That was an impressive pouch snag,” Nimby acknowledges, stepping away from the wall and admiring the shot. “I haven’t seen many people use that as an ending, especially when they punch the dart instead of throwing it.”

  Nimby starts pulling the darts out of the wall and tosses his fallen dagger to Fritz. The gnome lets it fly past him while he pulls out a silver flask to drink from. Theresa doesn’t look worried as she stands with her arms at her sides. She folds her tail against her back, making sure none of it can be hit by Nimby’s darts.

  “Let’s see how good a thief you are,” Theresa says with a mocking grin.

  Nimby grabs two gold darts at the same time and throws them over his shoulder. Each one clips a side of her belt and her pants drop to the floor. In mild shock, she looks down at her simple, white underwear that is revealed for the world to see. Aware that leaving the wall will cost her the game, Theresa can only glare and hiss at the halfling. Fritz lets out a half-hearted whistle of appreciation as she steps out of her pants, kicking them to the side. The feeble attempt at humor fails to get him any attention.

  “You are dead after this game, Nimby,” Theresa growls, her ear tufts sticking up and twitching. “I’m going to beat you over the head with the gnome.”

  “We both know that embarrassing your opponent can lead to an easy win,” Nimby calmly argues. “Still, you have to admit that’s worth more points than your first two shots. Now stop talking or I might mess up this next thro
w.” The next dart goes between the tunnel that her thumb and fingers form as she holds her hands on her hips. He tosses the last gold dart between his legs and it hits just above her head.

  “I’m still in the lead. Dropping my pants isn’t enough to outdo me snatching your gold pouch and disarming you,” she declares. She takes a few seconds to rub her cold legs while Nimby prepares for his last shot. “The hand tunnel shot was good, though. I would say that you’re about twenty points behind me.”

  Nimby carefully balances the obsidian dart on his palm and spins it at Theresa. She cautiously watches the dart as it appears to move up and down in the air. She can’t figure out where it is heading until it is a few inches from her face. The dart hits the wall next to her ear and she grins at the rather unimpressive shot.

  “That’s it? That was your final shot?” she asks victoriously. “You should have tried to go for my shirt ties or a ricochet shot instead of something as boring as a spinner. I get to keep my secrets.”

  Nimby sadly shrugs. “Guess I was out of my league.”

  “I’ll be taking back my pants and escorting you out the door now,” Theresa gloats. She tries to move and feels a painful yank on her ear. “Gyah! What the hell? I’m stuck to the wall! What did you do, Nimby?” She can barely move her head without feeling like something is trying to rip her ear off. Feeling around the obsidian dart, she finds that Nimby spun it through her small hoop earring.

  “By the look on your face, I guess Nimby wins with that shot. Now, can we talk?” Fritz asks, handing Theresa back her pants.