Chapter One

It was a spring afternoon, Wednesday. I had just been graduated as a knight not more than three days ago. I was in the Smithdales, buying my first real sword. I had a lot of eyes on me, some were kind, others were of scrutiny, and a lot of them were of disgust. I might have been the youngest commoner knight, but I was well informed that I did not belong here. However it was also here that I learned what it meant to be a knight at Hobosmane.

I was eight years old, wandering through these same streets looking for a single blacksmith who would be willing to sell a practice sword to a commoner orphan like me. And that was when I saw him. So big, and angellic. He had an aura that reeked of smiles and courage. I don't know his name, but I know him. For he was an archangel, a knight from Hobosmane. I met a few more knights of high status, but no one came close to him. He was the one who gave me my first sword, made me who I am. And now I wander the same streets, a knight myself, but I will never be him.

It was during these ruminations that I didn't realize that the royal knights have surrounded me. The eyes of the people turned into confusion with fear and respect, but mostly fear. Because he was there, Sir Elric Ross, the Knight General, head of the Hobosmane's internal security. Even the proudest faltered in his presence, reduced to a mere presence. He was him. Nothing was said to me during our journey, and I knew better than to ask.

It was not my first time in Hobosmane. Four years ago a handful of exceptional squires were invited to the Hobosmane to witness the pinnacle of Knighthood. I was one of them. And the only one of them that was a commoner. Like an agnostic among the God's favourite children. An anomaly, if you will.

And from there I was escorted to here, the King's Court. A lavish expansive hall, as big as a market square, with all its decor and jewels. It made me feel small, and insignificant, and poor, all of which was true. It had basically stayed the same from before, so expensive and lavish it intimidates you, incapacitates you with all its glorious remnants and flags from wars won, and with figures that you would only read about in history books.

"Ah, there you are. I apologise for the sudden inconvenience. I hope your journey here was comfortable." The king spoke. And when he spoke everyone listened. He waited for my reply, like you would at the windowsill to not scare the bird away. I gave him a nod, that satisfied him.

"The word of your achievements are heard everywhere in our land. You are quite an exceptional knight. You are the proof that the resolve of an individual is far richer than one's blood."

Those words left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. He swallowed and continued. There were only six of us in the court. King's hollow words echoed even more. He stood up from his decorated throne and put his hand behind his back, slowly descending the stairs. Everyone waited for him to continue.

"The castle has a job for you." I knew it. Either this or they were going to execute me. "And if you accept, if you choose to, only then will you know the nature and the details of your job."

It isn't that difficult to imagine the kind of job I'll have. It's most probably a formality, a way to clear the image of the castle by employing a prodigy of common blood. It will be something like caretaking unimportant guests, or as a watchdog. Both of the possibilities didn't thrill me. Nor was I interested in working for the royalty, however I didn't have much choice. In any case, my life was not going to be any worse than it was outside. If anything it may improve.

"I accept." I spoke for the first time in the court. My voice sounded weaker than it should have been. But it satisfied the king. And everyone else apparently, except the Knight General. His face softened and he smiled gently, but I swear there was a smirk underneath.

"Very well. Welcome to the Hobosmane, Sir Vincent of Amber. The Knight General will explain to you your duties here. Any questions that you may have you can ask the Knight General, or Galvin . You will be under direct command of the youngest Prince from the First Queen, that is, Galvin the Third." He pointed to a cunning looking man, with sharp facial features, and the eyes of a fox. He was around my height, and gave me the kind of smile given to a child you don't believe.

And that was it. I was escorted out by the Knight General and led through just as lavish and big hallways of the castle to somewhere. The knights from Hobosmane were stories. Legends. They didn't come from streets like these, and they certainly didn't come from orphanages. Whatever job they had for me, it would remind me of that. I couldnt wait any longer to ask what humiliating duty I had been assigned. The wait was an insult.

"You will be a personal guard." He spoke in a heavy voice, the kind that you would hear taking charge on the battlefield, or the one that would wake you up from your sweetest dreams to pull you back into training you to death.

"A what?" My composure slipped and steps faltered. His stopped mechanically, and turned towards me with a scowl disguised as duty and obligation. "A personal guard. Did I stutter?" Staring me down from his massive stature of no less than 6'5' and the broad shoulders that terrified every doorway, his armor only making him bigger and more intimidating by the moment.

"To whom?" I asked again, in a voice that seemed to echo off of the smooth walls of the hallway.

"To the King's Spymaster." Another scowl, this one less disguised. But it was not directed at me. With that he turned around and started walking again, mechanically as he already was. I followed after him. No words were exchanged after that.