Mevierian Sonata- [ Closed Training/History ]

[Weyliss]

Secret : This is simply a writing exercise, as well as a character building thingie. Giving definition if you will. The smallest of stars, surrounded by an endless abyss. What should be the point of focus, is instead merely a distraction from the true essence of the thing. That being the surrounding abyss. No matter how bright the star, no matter how far the light reaches, it can never fill the endless void. -Martius. Impossible? A gate cannot be opened, if it is not first found." -Anonymous. ______________________________________ ???? ? ??? AV Present day. The darkness was eternal, holding him within its thrall... ...and then, he could feel. A warm substance covered his face. Something hard was pressing against the side of his head. It was a strained effort to open his eye. Blinking several times, it took a second to orient himself. He was lying on the ground. A shock. A sharp intake of breath. Then white light... _______________________________________________ Fall 12th 494 AV 16 years ago. She was the most beautiful of creatures, some say, born of the gods. It was this beauty that first attracted the knight. Once a farmer, his enlistment into the ancient knighthood had been foretold. For many years he had served, fighting in the darkest corners of Mizahar. They met within the halls of- Slowly the boy closed the large book cradled in his lap. Sitting back with a bright smile on his face, the boy dreamed. Dreams of knights, of monsters, of earning a title and sword. Of meeting a lady of his own... His small room could not contain the child, and with a joyous 'whoop' he jumped up and ran over to a wooden stick leaning against the wall. Dashing out into the hallway, book and stick cradled to his chest, the boy laughed. Then he stopped mid-stride. Voices, loud and angry. The bare bottoms of his feet barely made a sound as the boy moved over to the dining room, and consequently the nearby window. Looking out into the small clearing seperating the house from the barn, he could just make out two figures yelling. One was clearly his mother, the other must have been his father. It was only a few steps out into the living room, and then through the front door. The arms slacked, letting the small stick trail through the grass. The light from the house was his guide as he made his way into the night. The conversation was heated, and his father's tone took on a menacing quality. "Damn you woman! Why? What where you thinking? I have tried to do what's best for this family. MY BLOOD, MY-" "Oh don't be so dramatic, you have hardly been the-" His father moved with startling speed, putting the force of his entire forearm behind the coming blow. His mother reeled, staggering back several steps. The man's tone became even lower, and was lost on the boy's ears. Slowly the boy took a tentative step into the barn. A look of shock covered his visage, while the stick was out in front of him, wielded like a sword. "Weyliss? What are you doing here?" The man reeled, the full force of his attention put on the boy. "Answer me damn you!" Simply stuttering, the boy in question risked a nervous glance to his mother. His father roared and raised his arm. "Don't look at her, I am addressing you!" "Farnan stop this! What is wrong with you?" This only fueled the older man's rage, his eyes bulged as he aimed a kick at the boy. Weyliss turned in shock, deftly skipping out of the way of the flying limb... ... and into his father's outstretched fist. For a moment, he simply gaped, trying in vein to suck air into his empty lungs. Gasping and staggering away, he was oblivious to the shouts and the commotion going on behind him. The boy ran crying, the stick and book dropping to the ground as he raised his hands to his face. _____________________________________________ Present Day Pain. It was the only feeling. It overwhelmed his senses, reaching a new peak with each cough. He groaned, trying in desperation to grab something anything. His fingers clawed empty space as he convulsed. Shivering, his mouth hung open, drool and spittle mixing with some other unidentifiable liquid. Slowly his senses returned, and the man realized he was laying on the ground. Clawing at the wooden floor, he tried to turn over. He made it to his stomach, and stopped, gasping for air. From his new view point, the young man could make out a doorway leading into another room. A closed window could be seen, a pair of wooden shutters blocking any view of the outside world. Tiny beams of light could be seen emerging from the cracks in the wood. Looking down, Weyliss could make out some sort of puddle where his face had been laying. Panting he inched his arm forward, dabbing at the liquid with his hand. Even squinting, he couldn't make it out. Breathing slowly, the man prepared for his next task. One hand inched under the chest, while he raised a leg. Pushing himself up, he shakily tried to stand. The pain started in his lower extremities, shooting up and into his lower back, causing him to sputter and groan. Weyliss paused, trying to subdue the pain. It was ridiculous, his butt in the air, with one arm supporting himself as he grasped his shoulder. It took several agonizingly slow movements for him to stand. His first step was in the direction of the window. Several more followed as he tried to peace together what had happened. Coherent thought was hard. It was difficult to figure out why he had been dreaming about his childhood and his father, let alone where he was. He wasn't sure when the room started spinning, or when the floor met his face. Blinking, Weyliss felt a something warm run down his cheek, and onto the the floor forming a pool near his lips. He had fallen... All he could think about, was how he was going to clean the mess up.

[Weyliss]

_______________________________ Summer 21st 500 AV 10 Years ago. Sweat glistened in the sunlight. Two half-naked men circled each other. Both where armed with wooden swords, and each was moving in a defensive stance. If either warrior was aware of the hot sun, or a third man watching, neither gave any indication. The adversaries where absorbed in the other's movement. One misplaced foot step, letting one's sword droop too low, even blinking would spell defeat in their minds. Every few minutes one would lurch forward, slamming his foot in the ground, preparing for an all out attack. Yet each time, the other would recognize the feint and raise their sword in the classic 'high ready' stance. One mistake... An older man watched the proceedings. Despite his grayed hairs, he was built like an ox, with eagle eyes studying the combat before him. As each warrior would make a movement, he would wince or nod approvingly. Weyliss held his sword in a two-handed stance, while his opponent held his practice sword in one hand. Neither of their eyes ever met, each was too focused on the others movements. The young man twisted, looking to get a better view of his circling nemesis. His breath caught in his chest as the other boy suddenly lurched forward, his sword sweeping in a sideways arc, aimed at Weyliss' exposed midriff. Backpedaling, Weyliss didn't so much bring the sword down, as let it drop. The loud 'THWACK' of wood striking filled the air. Looking up from the locked wooden sticks, the warrior found his opponent's face inches from his own. Then their skulls connected, and both flew into the sand. It was over in a matter of moments, with Weyliss pinned to the ground, and his opponent slinging half-hearted punches into his chest and head. "Alright, enough." The command was given clearly, and each boy did their best to untangle themselves and get to a standing position. The man addressed both boys dismissively. "Julan, you could have ended that fight much, much sooner. There was no reason to drag it out. Frankly, Weyliss, you need to work on your technique. How many times do I have to tell you? The best defense is a good offense. Quit bottling up, you are too much like a turtle, hiding behind your sword. Its disgusting. Both of you, get out of my sight. The young men quickly raced for the path, only looking back when they where both sure Sir Marius was gone. Weyliss didn't understand a great many things. Why had his father sent him here? Sir Marius was a trainer for the Sylirian Knights, and worked to turn boys into pages, and maybe one day squires. His training regime was strict, and very tough. All of the other boys spoke of their rich parents, and how much money had been spent to get them to this 'school' Yet his father had no money, and how he knew a knight was beyond the boy. He'd been here for … months? It felt like years... Each boy was silent as the walked. Weyliss was very aware of Julan's sidelong glances. He should have been able to show off his talents to the master knight, but instead, his opponent had been …lacking. Rubbing his temple, Weyliss tried to study the surroundings. To admire the beautiful fields, the unblemished blue of the sky. Yet he couldn't help thinking. It took them the better part of an hour to reach the 'barracks' The 'barracks' was the name given to the barn where they all slept. As soon as they entered through the side door, they where greeted by the sight of several boys sparring, with several more reading heavy textbooks and lounging on the provided 'beds'. The sleeping arrangements consisted of straw and a blanket. Dropping onto his own, Weyliss gave a small sigh. The boy was tired, but couldn't sleep for thinking. He had wanted so badly to be a knight. A famous warrior much like the ones from his books. His mother had become pregnant, and his father had sent him to the school. He didn't understand, why couldn't he meet his sibling? What was so bad about another child? Sir Marius was another mystery. His father must have been friends with the man, so why was he so mean? Since Weyliss' arrival he had been ridiculed near constantly. His small frame, coupled with his bookworm habits didn't impress Sir Marius even the slightest. He didn't know why he was so bad with a sword, or even why he'd been accepted under the man's wing if he was such a … what had he said? "Liability." Turning over, the young man sniffed, and tried to sleep… "Sylr, cast your eyes away, I would not want you to see such a sorry sight! A bunch of boys sleeping in past sunrise? What is this?" His words where soft, but every single boy heard them, and immediately jumped to their feet. "Senior Trainee, what is the meaning of this?" The boy in question snapped to attention and drew his fist over his heart. "Sir! The Senior Trainee was not awoken at the appointed time by the Master Knight sir!" The older man's features clouded as he blinked. A hand came up to the greying beard covering the chin. "So, I have failed?" It took a long second for the boy to formulate a response. "Th-The Senior trainee does not understand the Master Knight's enquirey." The boys where nervous now, every punishment started with a question. "You just told me I failed. Why, you might as well have called me a worthless beggar. No, furthermore, I am dirt." Weyliss tried to wipe the sweat off his brow, this was bad. "TRAINEES, on the command of execution, you WILL vocalize the following sentence!" Pausing to make sure he had every boy's undivided attention, he looked each one in the eye. "Sir Marius, is DIRT." Not a single boy was brave enough to so much as giggle. "EXECUTE!" "SIR MARIUS IS DIRT, SIR!" "Why am I dirt?" Nobody answered, instead each boy in the small semi-circle stared at nothing. "Because, despite the fact that I have tried to make you, civilized, chivalrous young pages eager for the selection, you have instead elected to be lazy fat bodies. I am sorry boys, you may go home." He emphasized each word, his thick mustache almost quivering with each breath. The boys knew this was their signal. Speaking as one, they yelled. "No SIR! We do not want to go home, we want to be Knights!" The large man rounded on the Senior Trainee staring the boy down until the young man averted his eyes. "Then it must not be ME who failed. The Senior Trainee..." He practically spat the title out. Pausing to gather tension at the coming punishment. "..will spend the rest of the morning running. One lap for each minute you overslept! Meanwhile, the rest of you are in luck! A patrol of real knights has come upon our small farm. I might even let you talk to them, but not in that sorry state! Everyone get dressed!" Weyliss' heart soared, to talk to a full knight, and each of their squires- The senior trainee suddenly snapped to attention and then started to jog for the barn doors. Sir Marius roared. "What do you think you are doing?" The boy's face almost lit up, maybe it had been a joke? "You can't go out there alone, what if a bear ate you? You need a buddy. WEYLISS, You WILL run with the Senior Trainee, and if he is attacked by a bear, I expect you to jump into its jaws and keep it sated until proper help can arrive. Will you do this?" Weyliss' could feel any semblance of joy sucked out of him with each word. His crestfallen look must have been quite amusing, because several of the other boys cracked the smallest of smiles. "Sir, YES SIR!" As the two boys ran out, Weyliss sighed. There was no winning.

[Weyliss]

_______________________________ Spring ?, 507 AV 1 year ago. With a cough, Weyliss realized he was awake. It certainly wasn't of his choice. He would rather have slipped back into the black. Something had dragged him out. Everything around him was hazy. The pain was intense, and he couldn't seem to breathe. Clutching his hands to his chest, the young man looked about. He could see light through various cracks and holes in the wooden walls. He was laying in the larger of two rooms in what he could only guess was a small wooden shack. A single wooden table sat in the room behind him. Several overturned chairs lay about, with an open cabinet along the back wall. He could clearly see a closed window in front him, with a door. Gritting his teeth, the man scratched at the wood around him with his free hand. With nothing to grab, he pushed himself on his side. Biting his lower lip, he shut his eyes and pushed The pain was welcome. It reminded him that he was still alive. Somehow, he made it to his feet. Lurching forward, he aimed for the front door. As he slammed into the wood, his hand wrapped around a wooden handle. Grunting with the exertion, Weyliss threw the door open and stepped out into the sunlight. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was rank, a horrific odor, as if something had been burned, doused, and then set aflame once more. Overcoming a sudden fit of coughing, Weyliss looked about. He started to shake. The shack was sitting at the corner of what had once been a small village. At its heart was an old tree. He could make out several rows of houses surrounding the tree. He could still see the small stage where the town crier had given news to the people from under the great oak. He could make out the small fields beyond the first line of houses. The beautiful green stretching out until it met the surrounding forest. The little details caught his eye. The dew on the grass under the tree. The white-picket fences surrounding a select few homes. The blacksmith's pavilion on the edge of the far side of the clearing, identifiable by the tools and equipment hanging from various stands and displays. The children's toys littering a small fenced off area to his left. It was the little details. Like the red spatter across the front of the great oak. The just-visible arm hanging down from the crier's stand. The corpse laying in the children's play area. Another laying front of a house. Stepping out into the green of the yard, Weyliss tried to fight the darkness that was fast overwhelming his senses. He looked about vainly hoping for the slightest of respites. Yet there was none to be found. He could make out several bodies lying in the small clearing. Moving to the nearest, the young man realized it was just a simple child. He had been butchered, his face clawed into an unrecognizable mush, the arms ripped apart as they had been brought up in self-defense. Beautiful blonde hair was covered in red, and what had once been a green tunic was stained brown. Someone was screaming. It took several seconds for Weyliss to realize that he was creating the shriek. He could feel a new liquid covering his cheeks and running down his chin. His whole body shook, and the warrior dropped to his knees. Bringing his hands under the child's shoulders, he hugged the corpse close, rocking back and forth. He couldn't stop crying, he simply looked about him, his grief mixing with the pain, and creating a haze of despair. Why? Why had the god's wished this upon this poor child? What fate had this young boy, not even on the cusp of manhood, deserved? Certainly better than this. Anything, but this. Through his tears, he saw something laying in the grass. Blinking, the man realized it was a key. A small golden key. His face clouded in confusion, the young man realized that it probably belonged to the mayor's house. _________________________________ Winter ? 506 AV Two weeks ago. The three figures walked amidst a torrential downpour. Faces hidden by the hoods of their cloaks, they pulled the cloth about themselves, as if the fabric could protect them from the bitter rain. The lead figure was a large man, and bore the rain in a stoic silence. His three companions however, handled the misery in a different fashion. "All I'm saying, is if she was THAT into you, why did she say no?" The figure directly behind the frontman turned to his companion. "Wait, when did she say no? Where you there? I think not." The second man laughed, green eyes peeking out from underneath his hood. "Oh, right. Excuse me. I just, you know, assumed that if you had truly seduced her with those great, big, manly, arms-" To emphasize his point the second figure clapped both his hands over his friend's left shoulder. Pulling back, the man tried to shove him off. Nearly losing his balance, he growled. "I said, gerrof!" Laughing the second figure fell into line just behind him, and continued to speak as they marched up a particularly steep hill. "I'm just sayiing, that you came to sleep with us in the room. If the bartender had a thing for ya, don't you think she would have invited you back to her place?" "What? No. She just wanted to take it slow!" Laughing the second man pulled his hood back. His green eyes complimented with a motley brush of red hair. "Aye, Jared, your a buffoon. Gave her all your miza's just for them pretty eye-lashes!" "Shutup I think you-" "Oh hush both of you! No wonder nobody wanted either of you" The two friends lasped into silence as the lead figure looked back. The gray beard being the only thing visible from within the dark hood. From his place in the back, Weyliss studied their surroundings with a distracted eye. Rejects. Nobody wanted to say it, but the fact hung over them like a dull cloud. Over the years, the Knights of Syliras had been contacted. Sir Marius had shown off his finest students, and they had been accepted has paiges, maybe one day to become squires to a selected knight. There had been a time when the knights had needed every available body, and Sir Marius had pushed everyone to the front. Yet, not all of them had been chosen. Even the old knight had lost his bite, as he settled down. It was clear to them that he was done training knights. After the death of Jarickal it had worn the man down. Far from the roaring, guiding force of their youths, now he just looked... old. Weyliss looked into the cloudy skies, wishing the clouds away. They seemed to follow him. Even with the sun shining bright, he couldn't erase the facts. Nobody wanted him. His family had never once visited or wrote. At first he had thought it was Sir Marius, withholding their mail in an effort to 'toughen them up' Yet he had given out all the mail. Let the families come and see their children and how far they had come during the Yule'sdale Picnic. No mail. No family at the picnic. Weyliss had never felt so alone. It had reached the point where he didn't care anymore. They had a new child. Maybe somebody they had loved each other again over. Part of him knew it was childish, but he honestly wasn't sure he wanted to see them again. To admit he was the poorest candidate on a list of potential knights? Looking down at his hand, Weyliss studied the cold skin, the fingers as they shook, the dirt underneath the fingernails. Clutching he hand into a closed fist, Weyliss looked up. To his surprise they had arrived. He was shocked. They had another hour or two to go at the very least. Maybe he had lost track of time. Sir Marius looked back at the three of them, daring them to utter a word. As a group they could see the village before them. Rows of small cottages and a few brick houses where just barely visible underneath a small cloud of smoke. Small points of light could be seen everywhere. "Boys, those lanterns are part of the rain-festival. This community is largely made up of farmers and the like. Rain is near sacred, and this year's first pour has come early. A good sign for the fields." It took the better part of an hour to finally reach the small stone path. Two men stood on guard. Each held a spear, and small shield, bearing the emblem of the village, a tree under a shining sun. As the boys passed, one man gave them a tired glance. "Welcome to Greenhearth lads." Soaking wet, and freezing cold, Weyliss was the last to enter the small house. He hadn't recognized anything special about it from the outside, other then bricks and a white fence. Yet now that he was inside the house, the man realized that the fireplace couldn't have been comm throughout the village. A big man was dwarfing the already large Sir Marrius. "-Aye friend! What is in the village is mine, is yours! I welcome you and your apprentices to Greenhearth Sir Knight!" Puffy red cheeks, and a bright red nose stuck out from braids of blonde hair. "Sir Mayor, I am glad to be here, it does my heart good to see how well your community is doing." Handing his cloak to Jared, the man took a seat at a massive oak table. An older lady suddenly made her entrance into the living room. "Oh! Guests? Sir Marrius! I have missed you." Quickly at his feet, and then down to a knee, the old knight bowed. "My lady, how have you bee-" The mayor suddenly roared with laughter. "Oh stand up, she knew you where coming, and I will have NO man bow under my roof. Come! Come, sit at the table all of you. Let us talk, and be merry. Let us eat, as I am sure all travelers are, hopefully, I can then take you all out onto the festival grounds." Weyliss had to restrain himself. The bread was simply amazing. It must have taken magic to make bread this fluffy. He had hardly finished sitting down when he took a bite. Even Sir Marrius culdn't hold the three back as they tore into the provided food. The mayor simply sat down, blinking as he watched the young men demolish his food at an astonishing rate. "Maybe you should feed them more, Marrius..." Sighing, the knight said nothing and popped several berries in his mouth. Suddenly both Jared and Ailen stopped eating. Weyliss looked over, and noticed the two eyeing the window pretty hard. He could just make out a large group of people in the rain, and they seemed to be... dancing? Peering closer, Weyliss tried to get a better look. Suddenly the mayor started to laugh. "Aye, the festival is in full swing. Save those appetites boys, you'll need 'em. Dear, could you show them to the washing basins?" Confused, the young men looked to the older woman as she rose to her feet. "C'mon you lot. Mother nature got you dirty, and she'll clean ya' right up." Opening the door, they could hear a host of noise, and what smelled like some sort of cooking being done. Baffled, the men made their way out into the rain. Eyeing them from under one arm, the mayor's wife grinned as she waved her arm out. "That way boys, just follow the path! Oh, and dearie, could you shut the door?" Laughing, she turned to lead the way. Weyliss did an about face, and leaned in to pull the door shut. Without intending it, he found himself looking at both men, now deep in a hushed conversation. "I'm worried Marrius. I didn't call you and your boys out just for a meet 'an greet. Something's afoot in this town. I need your advice old friend." Sir Marrius reached under his the table and into a pouch, withdrawing a long, slender pipe. "Aye, I figured as much brother, but-" Turning mid-sentence, he gave Weyliss a scowl. "Shut that door boy!" Quickly pulling the wooden door shut, the young man looked out to where the others had gone. He could barely see through the rain.