Year 3010, Emberfall / Day - 10
The sky hung low, a bruise-dark sheet from which cold rain fell in brutal, splattering drops.
The boy ran through the rain, his clothes were soaked and his face was bruised. He had tears in his eyes that even the rain couldn't hide.
As soon as he got home he opened the door and closed it as soon as he entered, he ran through the hallway without so much as a single greetings and went into his room. He cried so loud that he was even louder than the thunderstorm outside.
After crying for hours, he heard Gregory call for him.
"Time for dinner, Michael."
Gregory Dashvil is the guardian his parents left to raise him.
He walked out the room with red eyes and a frowned lip, he sat and ate his food waiting to be asked what was wrong.
Time passed. He finished everything on his plate, but Gregory hadn't said a word. So Michael spoke first.
"…Gregory why am I so weak."
Gregory continued to eat whatever that was left on his plate.
"Why are you asking me that." he replied as he finished the bits of food left on his plate.
"It's… it's because some of the kids in the neighborhood are bullying me. They said that even for a commoner, my mana is too weak. They said it's not normal."
Gregory finished what was on his plate and kept quiet, Michael added and said:
"Their parents say I'm a bad omen. They asked why I have a strange mark on my back even though I'm only nine–years–old."
Gregory stood up and went to wash his plate.
"What do you want me to do about it? I can't help you out with that. your on your own."
Michael followed him into the kitchen to also wash his plate.
"…I know. But maybe… you can teach me how to get stronger. Maybe then they won't pick on me."
"…Get a goal"
Michael blinked. He didn't understand at all. He touched his chin thinking it might help him untangle Gregory's words.
"I don't get what you mean… get a goal?"
Gregory sat down on his chair and looked at the boy.
"It means find something you want to achieve in life. Something you'd do anything to attain."
Michael walked closer as Gregory started to remove his wet clothes.
"Do you have a goal, Gregory?"
Gregory handed him a fresh set of dry clothes and stayed silent.
"Well how do I get one, a goal to try my hardest to achieve."
Gregory sighed and said:
"Well… what do you want the most in life?"
Michael got into bed. As Gregory tucked him in he whispered:
"Friends… I want friends, and people who love being around me."
Gregory stood up, as he finished tucking him in, he walked to the door and looked back at Michael.
"Then for now, let your goal be finding a way to get stronger—so people will love being around you."
As he went out the room the boy looked up at the ceiling with a huge smile trying to think of a way to get stronger.
***
Year 3018, Petalune / Day - 02
The hot summer winds blew against everything and everyone as they accompanied the scorching rays coming from the sun. Any rational person would be indoors or in a cold body of water on this hot day.
Michael knelt down on the dirt, tugging stubborn weeds from the garden soil, his clothes had dirt spread all over.
This garden he was tending belonged to and oldman who lives in a forest near the outskirts of the city. Michael was looking at the plants with such hate hate it was as if they're very existence offended him.
"This is ridiculous—I should be training right now, but no… I'm in a garden tending to some stupid flowers, who likes flowers anyway."
Rocking on his chair over by the porch was an oldman with white hair all over his head, at least on the areas that still had hair.
"You've been training for 9 years and from my point of view your skills aren't getting any better. "
Michael stood up and glared at the oldman with such animosity.
"That's not true! I'm stronger and faster. My physical capabilities are way beyond normal, who cares if my magic is stuck in a slump all it needs is a push and everything is gonna be alright."
"Heheheh… sure, and I'm the most handsome man in the world, trust me Michael training isn't gonna fix your situation."
Michael's face boiled with anger.
"What other option do I have you old fart."
The tension between the two boiled down as Michael finished tending to the garden. Michael was ready to leave but as he went out the gate he heard the oldman say something to him.
"Why don't you join them?"
He paused as he was so confused, you could tell by the stupid look he had on his face.
"…them who?"
Ray went inside his cabin and instructed Michael to follow behind him, as they got inside Ray took out a dusty old book from his cabinet. He opened it wide and told Michael to listen closely.
"Knights, boy… all across the nation," Michael's eyes widened with anticipation.
"Four knight orders, each sworn to serve and protect under His Majesty's rule. They roam the nation — and even go beyond it — growin' stronger with adventure. They are know far and wide as heroes… as champions… and as the nation's first and last line of defense."
Ray looked at Michael and closed his book, and as he stood he said:
"Boy… these are The Knights Of The Round Table, If you're really lookin' to get stronger, go join them. Cause whatever answer you're looking for… it sure as hell ain't here. I'll tell you that."
And just like that, Michael knew.
He wanted that.
He wanted all of it.
The fame… the glory… the adventure… and most of all, the strength.
And with those few words, embers to an eternal flame were mistakenly set ablaze.
***
Night fell, carrying a sky full of dancing stars and a cool breeze that softened the heat left behind by the long, scorching day.
Gregory sat at the table eating his share of dinner for the night without so much as a care in the world.
Baam! The door swung open.
"Gregory!" Michael burst in, panting. "I found it—the solution to all my problems."
He sat down immediately.
"I want to become a knight of the Round Table!" he declared proudly. "think about it I'll train with them, go on dangerous adventures and along the way fight really strong monsters."
Michael grabbed his share of dinner and as he began to eat Gregory responded to his declaration of becoming a knight.
"If that's what you want, you'd better leave now. This year's trial is in the next eight months. And travel from here to the capital takes… oh, about two months."
The food tumbled straight out of his mouth. He shot up from his chair and rushed toward his chambers without a second thought.
"I need to pack, Quickly!"
"And where are you planning to get the money for the entrance fee?"
"…Eh?"
He froze mid-step.
Gregory sighed dramatically. "Your parents send money. I give you your share every month. The rest is for me—to spend on women and booze."
Michael spun around. "YOU BASTARD! THAT IS MY MONEY!"
Gregory shrugged. "Then stop me."
Ten minutes of begging, yelling, and undignified groveling later—Michael's voice reduced to a pathetic whine—Gregory finally slapped a small pouch of coins into his hand.
"There you go, that should cover you."
After grabbing the pouch of tors, Michael finished what he seems to think is packing, throwing clothes, tools, and a kitchen knife into his bag.
Gregory looked at him with such shame in his eyes. The moment he saw him slip a kitchen knife into his bag, he let out a long, defeated sigh—silently grateful that Michael was not his own child.
Michael stormed out of the house the same way he stormed in—only this time he shouted a rushed goodbye to Gregory before tearing down the road. He sprinted straight to old man Raymond's place and started yelling from outside the yard.
"HEY, RAY! REMEMBER WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT EARLIER? WELL, I THOUGHT ABOUT IT AND I'M GONNA DO IT! SO GOODBYE FOR NOW! THANKS FOR TELLING ME ABOUT THE KNIGHTS—WHEN I MAKE IT, I'LL PAY YOU BACK, OKAY—!"
Before he could finish, something hit him square in the face with. A rolled-up piece of paper had been tossed out the window. Rubbing his nose, Michael unrolled it and realized it was a map—old, worn, and probably more confusing than helpful.
And just like that, he set off on his premature "adventure." Premature is putting it lightly, honestly. If you ask me, the boy's got more enthusiasm than sense. Even with a map in hand, I'd bet good money he's still gonna get lost before he even reaches the main road.