The Sword

It had only been a year since Charles had found a real sword in the remains of a battlefield. He had gone scavenging and found the steel blade laying in the hands of a dead man. Blood covered his armor and his faceplate barely covered his lifeless, gray eyes. The moment he found the sword, Charles immediately checked to make sure no one was near him. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing him with the weapon, as it could fetch an extremely high price when sold. As soon as he picked up the saber, he fell to the ground. His knees and arms were shaking from the weight of the blade and from how much power he could feel emanating from it. It felt like he was holding something that no one was supposed to hold, as it would make them more powerful than can even be imagined. As he attempted to lift up the sword, he inspected the small cracks and dents on it, as well as the bloodstains that littered the stainless steel.

This was a real sword, alright.

After thinking about what he’s going to do with it for a few minutes, Charles eventually decided. He always wanted to be a knight, so maybe practicing his form with the sword could be useful. Charles himself never really believed he could be a knight, of course, but he always dreamt of it. What peasant boy doesn’t dream of slaying enemies on the battlefield while fighting for your king? Kissing the princesses hand while also riding a horse majestically? Every boy does, and Charles was no different. And so, he brought the sword home. It was easy hiding the sword from his mother, after all, she’s been stuck in her bed for months at that point. But hiding the blade from his sister was no easy task. She was prone to surveying things that she had no business surveying, climbing up walls and eavesdropping on occasion as well. Charles didn’t want his sister to know about the sword, as she would immediately tell mother, so he thought that hiding it inside of his house wouldn’t be a great idea.

But then, he thought of the cellar. A long time ago, Charles had found a secret cellar that was hidden near the village alleyways. It’s a little hard to spot, of course, but once you pull on the chain that opens the basement door, you could find a large storage area, one that was perfect for hiding swords. The villagers really have no idea about it, and the Blake Knights that have occupied the village also have no clue that it exists. Charles himself has deduced that it was used to hide from something. Food, clothes, and some barrels of water and ale are all kept within the cellar, and all of them have passed their expiry date. The water is dirty, the ale has expired, the food is now gray mush and the clothes are a bunch of threads. But why would they need all of these things? What were they hiding from? Charles has a few ideas, but his favorite idea is the most unrealistic one.

He believes that maybe, just maybe, they were hiding from Dragons.

Tales of flying, fire breathing and scaly beings flew all throughout Charles' mind. He had learned how to read thanks to school, and books about Dragons were one of the first things he read about. He had heard the stories about how they flew above cities, bringing them to ruin with just a few breaths of fire. Obviously, and Charles knew this, Dragons are not real. They never have been and they never will be. However, he couldn’t help but think about flying away on the back of those god-like animals, flying away to a better place.

Sadly, Charles was stuck where he was. Mournstead, Charles’ hometown, was a small village that was located near the mountains at the edge of Naegar. It wasn’t anywhere near any cities, and it was nowhere near the capital city, so it obviously gets no attention from anyone. This made it a prime target for many nefarious groups, all of whom began to use their power in an attempt to take control of Mournstead and its neighboring villages. Right now, the village is under the control of the Blake Knights, a group of mercenary knights that harass and take control of the Naegar villages. They came in on horseback, killing anyone that didn’t bow down to them, before becoming the new lords of Mournstead. They gave the villagers heavy taxes and treated them horribly, and so the village of Mournstead has begun to fall into ruin.

Charles despises the Blake Knights with a passion. They aren’t real knights at all. To him, a knight is a man that fights for the king and the realm, fighting with honor and skill and never backing down from a duel. The Blake Knights, on the other hand, don’t serve the king at all. They don’t fight with honor and the only one of them that seems to have genuine skill is the leader of the Blake, Ranulph Armodand. He is very powerful, as much as Charles hates to admit it, and he rules with an iron fist. However, honor is not one of his key attributes, and he usually throws away his duels to his lackeys. With every swing of his sword, Charles imagines a Blake Knight standing in front of him, hoping to one day be able to cut them all down.

In any case, Charles feels that he is making good progress. Practicing with a sword every day for months on end is bound to do that to a boy, and at this point he can now hold the sword up with ease. His new mission is focused on being able to swing the sword properly. Bringing the sword down takes a lot of effort from Charles’ side, and every strike makes Charles’ arms burn with pain. However, he knows that it will pay off, after all, his arms are already feeling much stronger. Being a twelve year old boy, Charles is beginning to feel a bit of pressure as to how strong he is. He usually arm wrestles his sister, but playing around with other boys in Mournstead is a bit discouraged, as it could lead to a fight, and the Blake Knights love to get involved in fights, even if it is with a couple of little boys.

As Charles thinks about slicing down a Blake Knight once more, he looks up at the small bars that hide at the roof of the cellar. The bars are what he uses to tell the time inside of the damp cellar. Light obviously means daytime and darkness means nighttime, but different levels of light can be used to classify different times. As of right now, Charles can see that barely any light is seeping into the cellar, and he immediately realizes that the night is going to set itself upon the village soon. He sighs, before he walks over to some hay and pushes the sword underneath. He then tries his best to cover it and all of its edges, spilling hay over every part of it. Once Charles was done, he wiped his hands on his shorts and headed to the cellar entrance. He climbed up the ladder and pushed the small door open, and then he climbed out of it, grunting as he pushed himself out. He then slowly shut the door, trying to make the least amount of noise possible, before he stood up and walked away.

Sword training for the day was over.

Charles snuck out of the alleyway and looked around, hoping that no one was there to see him emerge from the cellar. Having someone find the cellar may turn out fine, but the sword is something that Charles couldn’t bear to lose. After all, he may never get a chance to use a weapon like that ever again. The sun has almost left the sky and the night has set in, covering the village in its terrifying shade of black. Charles himself has never been too afraid of the dark, as he’s always seen it as more of an annoyance than something to fear. But tonight, as he walked past the houses and attempted to avoid the knights that wandered around the village, looking for people to rough up, he began to shiver. A sense of foreboding and dread filled the air around him, but he wasn’t sure as to what it was. He began to get lost in his own thoughts, thinking about how he was feeling and how he was going to deal with tomorrow. Even worse, his family was beginning to run out of food, and he may have to take up extra work in order to pay the taxes that the Knights want, as well as purchase food for his sister and mother. If worst comes to worst, he may not even be able to eat at all.

Charles was fine with this, though. After all, ever since his father died, he has been the man of the house. He has to provide, and he can’t complain about doing what he’s supposed to do. And once his mother recovers from her illness, maybe she can start helping out again too. Until then, however, he has to keep working, and that may mean eliminating his sword practice from his schedule for a while. The thought of not being able to practice with the sword brought him some sadness, however. Using that sword is the only time that he’s able to feel like he’s strong, like he’s someone completely different from who he is now. His hands have been forming marks and have been bruised by the practice, but Charles doesn’t mind it. It comes with the territory of using a weapon. He looks down at his arm and holds it, feeling the pain that’s coming from it, but also the muscle that has been forming in it. He’s growing strong, he thinks, as he smiles.

And then he bumps into a man.

Charles looks up and sees a large, slender man, whom he instantly recognizes as a Blake Knight. He gasps and begins to back away as a dirty grin pops onto the Knights face. His armor is a black variation of typical chainmail armor, with a small belt laying on his hips. A sword rests within his scabbard, which is attached to the belt. His face isn’t covered by a helmet or anything of the sort, but is instead surrounded by his thick, brown hair. His eyes are black and a mustache sits right above his dry lips. The man was a little handsome, but the smell that emanated from his body pushed his looks away.

“Boy, why don’t you watch where you’re going?” He asks. His voice is gravely and fills Charles with frustration. He wants to run away, but he can’t dart away when this man lives within his village. If the worst case scenario comes to pass, Charles could be charged with treason and he could be killed on the spot. Instead of running, Charles decides to try and speak. He opens his mouth and attempts to say something, but nothing comes out except gasps and groans. The Knight kneels down and laughs as he puts his hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Aw, don’t be scared, child.” Charles notices him pulling his arm back and turning his hand into a fist. He immediately understands what’s about to happen. He’s going to be a vehicle for this man's amusement.

The fist comes barreling into Charles’ stomach at a rapid speed, and saliva is spat out of his mouth. Charles falls down, grasping at his stomach as the Knight laughs at him. He stands up, before raising his leg and then kicking Charles’ ribs. Charles gasps for air and he can feel tears welling up in his eyes. Pain fills his body as he groans and attempts to move, only for the Knight to kick him again and again, laughing as he does so. By the time he was done, Charles lay on the ground, barely being able to move. Bruises littered his body and his hands covered his mouth, which was full of spit. He takes deep breaths, trying not to cry from the amount of pain he’s in.

“Hopefully that taught you a lesson, boy! Pay attention when you’re walking around, you may hurt someone!” He turns around and begins to prance away, laughing like a hyena as he does so. Charles whimpers and stays on the ground for a few more minutes, before he finds the strength to push himself up. He coughs while shaking his head. Everything hurts. He stumbles towards his house, as he tries to keep himself from throwing up. It takes a lot longer than it should’ve to make it back home, but by the time he did, the night had taken over the village. Almost no one was about, other than the Blake Knights, who still wandered around aimlessly, just like those ancient Ghouls that he had heard about a long time ago. He reached into his pocket and for a moment, panic overtook him as his hand flailed about, trying to find the house key. After a few seconds, however, the key was within his hand and a small smile found its way onto his face.

He placed the key within the door knob and twisted it, before he crawled into the house. There was no light within, and the house felt lifeless and tired. He found his way through the darkness and checked the pantry for food. His stomach craved some food, and he knew that his mother would want some as well. One thing that surprised him, however, was the fact that his sister hadn’t appeared by now. Usually, his sister arrived to greet him whenever he came home, so the fact that she wasn’t here by now added some layer of anxiety to his foreboding dread. But soon, answers to his question appeared in his head. Maybe, she’s somewhere outside. Maybe she's already gone to sleep. These answers reassured him for a bit, and he put aside his thoughts as he dug through the pantry in an attempt to find some food. Barely anything was left, as they had used up mostly everything they had. But, there were some crackers that he could eat right now. He sucked up the dry, tasteless crackers, and sighed.

He then decided to go check on his mother. Charles’ mother, Anna, used to be a very energetic lady, something that her daughter has inherited. However, ever since his father passed away, Anna has been a bit of a shell of her former self. She was getting tired more quickly, kept to herself more often than not, and began to get a little sickly. Then, a while ago, she picked up a sickness that impacted her in a horrible way. Now, she can barely even stand, and she relies on Charles and his sister, Mattie, to take care of her. Charles himself holds no resentment towards his mother for losing touch with them after the death of his father. In some way, he understood that it was hard for his mother, being a woman and taking care of the two of them without any help, all while having to deal with increased taxes and more stress. But, he does wish that she could grow stronger, so that he could get some help in keeping his family afloat.

Anna’s room was small, and it was one of the three rooms in the house. The kitchen, the main hall, and her room. Charles and Mattie slept in the living room while his mother rested within her room. And that room was his least favorite part of the whole house. He entered and stared at the bed where his mother rested, before squinting. It’s strange, he hasn’t seen his sister at all since he entered the house. If she was sleeping, she should’ve been in the living room, and he doesn’t see her here either. He gulps and walks towards his mother.

“Charles.” He hears her mutter. He shivers and rushes towards his moms bedside, as she moves her frail hands towards his. “How…was your day?” Charles thinks about his answer for a moment. He thinks about school and how he had to skip on lunch for the day in order to conserve food. He thinks about helping out the blacksmith for money, only to almost be hit and yelled at for messing up when he was asked to bring him an item. He thinks about the beating he received at the hands of one of the Blake Knights. And then he thinks about his practice with the sword, and how he felt like he was above everyone in the village for a while. He decided to let that feeling overpower the pain he could still feel in his stomach as he spoke.

“It was good, mother. I had a lot of fun today.” She smiles and raises her arm, before touching his cheek and brushing her hand on it.

“I’m glad.” Her voice was angelic, yet it was so weak and helpless. Charles could feel the pain his stomach grow when he heard those words, and he moved one of his hands down there in order to clench it.

“Do you want me to bring you any food?” He asks her. She slowly shakes her head.

“No…I’m going back to rest. I awoke a while ago, and couldn’t fall back asleep.” She tells him. Charles nods as he feels her hand shake. “Also,” she sniffles, “where’s Mattie? I haven’t seen her since the morning.” He feels like his head is burning, and he grunts as he tries to speak.

“She said didn’t come home today because she was going to sleep over at Alicia’s house. She told me earlier.” This was the best explanation Charles could come up with. He was starting to get more and more worried, but he didn’t want his mother to feel the same way. A lie like this wouldn’t hurt her, he thought. Anna nods.

“Okay…but, you look tired, Charles. You should get some rest.” She tells him. He smiles and begins to let go of her hand as he stands up.

“Don’t worry, mother. I’ll go to sleep right now.” He begins to back away, towards the door. Anna watches him do so and yawns.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.” She whispers, as she nuzzles her head into the soft pillow below her. Charles begins to step through the door and exit the room while he waves at her.

“I won’t, mother. Good night!” He exclaims, before shutting the door. The moment he closes the door, he rushes towards the front entrance and slides into the front of the house, before he throws up. Liquid and mushed up crackers erupt out of his mouth, as colored saliva sticks to his mouth. He stops for a moment, before he spews out more half digested sludge. After he finishes throwing up, he burps and enters his house once more. He takes a tissue and cleans his mouth, before he then gets a cup of water and puts it underneath a barrel that’s resting on the kitchen counter. He presses down on the tap, and water spills out of it and enters the cup, eventually meeting its untimely end in Charles’ mouth. He drinks a few glasses of water and then throws out the tissue. He grips his stomach as he slowly walks towards his mattress. His legs give out as he falls onto it and the blanket is pulled over his body. Charles coughs once more, before closing his eyes.

The next morning, Charles’ condition had improved. His legs barely shook anymore and his stomach had finally gotten rid of the horrible feeling that was welling up inside of it. Everything felt fine, other than his mouth, which still had the taste of dirty crackers stuck inside of it. However, he was fine with that. Drinking some water could fix that issue. The main thing he was worried about was where his sister had gone off to. She wasn’t in her mattress, and she wasn’t with mother. She wasn’t anywhere outside either. Maybe she’s taking a bath, he thought. Charles had woken up a bit early today, so he decided that taking a bath may be a good idea, especially considering what happened last night. After waking his mother and telling her of his plans, she told him about hers.

“I was thinking that I feel a bit better today.” Charles could see that in her face. It seemed to be glowing. Maybe she was finally starting to improve from her sickness. “So, I thought that I’d sit outside for a while.” Charles grinned.

“I hope it won't be for too long. I wouldn’t want a Blake Knight to come and start harassing you.” He tells her. Anna nods and sits herself up.

“I'll break the fast myself today. You go on and take a bath. You’re starting to smell!” Charles was glad that his mother was speaking more than usual today. She seemed to be recovering her enthusiasm, which was something he desperately needed. He chuckled and stood up.

“I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with this smell, then. I’ll clean myself up and try to bring Mattie back home.”

“Hopefully she doesn’t cause too much of a fuss about it.”

“She won’t. We don’t have school today, anyways. The teacher is sick. I hope she feels better, but she shouldn’t do it too quickly.” He jokes. Anna gives a look of disapproval, but she also laughs a bit. Even though he feels a sense of dread still coming from Maddie’s disappearance, Charles does feel very good now. His mother is starting to feel a bit better and she’s joking around with him. He's feeling better after his beating from yesterday and he has no school today. School in Mournstead is different from other villages and towns. Usually, only the children with rich parents could go to school, however, a few widows that had learned how to read and write, as well as other things, have set up a small public school in the village. Parents send their kids to school for a few hours, and the kids come back having learned something new. When the Blake Knights came, there were some worries about them shutting down the school program, but they thankfully allowed for it to keep going. In exchange for that though, they increased taxes even more and made the teaching much more strict. Charles hates school, but he has to admit that it is quite necessary.

“Don’t say that, Charles. Now run along. That smell is getting to me.” After saying his goodbyes for the morning, Charles left his home and went to the river nearby. He was planning to go and look for Maddie for a while after he went for a long bath at the river. He had always wished to be able to wash at a bathhouse, but until his wish comes true, he must clean himself off with the cold river water. One thing Charles has always been scared of was that a fish would bite off his penis if he bathed in the river, but it hasn’t happened yet. Charles is still always on guard against the river, however. He would like to be able to keep his penis, and he wasn’t about to let a fish take his worm away from him. When he arrived at the river, only one other boy was there. Charles recognized him. It was a fat boy named Will. Will had always been kind to him, however, Charles found him to be quite annoying. It wasn’t the fact that he never stopped talking that bothered him. It wasn’t his freckles or ugly hair either. It was the fact that he was fat. Charles couldn’t explain it, but seeing a fat man annoyed him to a large extent. Just the way they act, move and talk left him feeling a burning passion to punch their chubby faces inwards. In any case, he had no reason to be mean to Will, especially since he was so nice to him. He just had to put the annoying feeling aside.

“Hello, Charles.”

“Good day, Will.”

“Come to take a bath?” That question set him off. Of course he had come to take a bath, that’s the only reason he would ever come to the river! But, he took a deep breath and spoke properly.

“Yes…I see that you’ve already started.” Will smiled.

“Well, I wanted to make the most out of today. It isn’t everyday that the teacher is sick.” Charles nods.

“Yes, I understand that. I’m going to be working the whole day, after I find my sister, of course.” Will’s eyebrows went up and he stared at Charles.

“What happened with your sister?” He asks.

“Well, she just didn’t come home last night. I’m worried, but I trust that she hasn’t gotten into any trouble.”

“Hopefully she didn’t run into a Blake Knight. She would’ve been treated horribly.” Charles’ head shot up from the river water and he shivered. He hadn’t considered the possibility of a Blake Knight hurting his sister at all. Considering what they did to him, they may be a bit more lenient with a young girl, but he didn’t want to take his chances, especially with a group like the Blake Knights. With that, he decided that he must take this more seriously. The burning feeling in his head began to return and the anxiety from before had begun to set in once more. How could he treat this situation so casually? He began to throw water all over himself, without even responding to Will. As he cleaned himself up, Will looked at him with a confused look on his face. “Charles? Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.” He pointed out, as Charles jumped out of the river and began to clean himself up with a small towel.

“I’m feeling fine, Will.” He threw on his clothes and started to shove his feet inside of his shoes. “I must go.” He tells him, before rushing away. Will watched as Charles ran, and shook his head in confusion. Charles himself knew that he had no time to work right now. The worst case scenarios began to run through his mind as he started searching the village. He could feel the sweat appearing all over his skin as he asked people “Did you see Mattie?” only for them to reply with a quick “No, I haven’t.” This only served to make him more scared. What if she was kidnapped? He couldn’t even think of poor Mattie being sold to slave traders, crying her eyes out as she was beaten and forced to do unimaginable things. But even that may be preferable to the worst case scenario for her. Charles tried not to think of that possibility, however. He decided to hide those thoughts by blaming himself. ‘I should’ve looked harder.’ ‘I shouldn’t have gone to sleep last night.’ ‘This is my fault.’ But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find her. He had searched for hours on end, but he eventually decided that he needed to rest. The blue sky had begun to turn to shades of yellow as Charles went into the cellar.

He walked through the damp basement, shivering with every step he took. He gulped as he sat down next to the hay pile and pulled out the sword from underneath. He stared at it for a moment, attempting to make himself feel strong again, but he felt nothing from it. He could feel tears beginning to build up again, but he put his shirt sleeve to his eyes before he could cry. He didn’t have time to use his sword anymore. He stood up and went out of the cellar. Where could he go now? He thought for a moment, before deciding that he had to tell his mother. She didn’t know about any of this right now, and while he didn’t want to let her worry, he had to tell her about it. His sister and her daughter had disappeared, and she had the right to know. And so, Charles sprinted home, watching out for any Blake Knights that he may accidentally encounter. When he finally arrived at his house, he found the door to be wide open. So he entered and slowly closed it, before he started heading inside. That’s when he started to hear the voices of his mother and someone else coming from inside. The other voice was a bit familiar, but he couldn’t figure out who it was. So, he headed inside to find a Blake Knight talking to his mother.

He immediately recognized the Knight as a man named Roger, one of the nicer Knights. He had helped out Charles with his taxes once or twice, by giving him money from others in order to pay it off. It may not have been the most honorable move, but it kept Charles and his family safe, and he was happy for it. Ser Roger stood up and looked at Charles with a horrible look plastered all over his face, while his mother was sobbing. Charles ran towards his mother and hugged her.

“What’s wrong, mother?” Ser Roger looked at him and shook his head. Charles looked at Ser Roger with anger, but this time he wasn’t against voicing it. A scowl appeared on his face as he stared at the man. “What did you do to her, Ser Roger? Why is my mother crying?!” He immediately regretted yelling. Even if Ser Roger was a bit of a kinder person, he isn’t the greatest man alive. If he faces disrespect, he may just beat him and charge him for treason right here and now. But instead, Ser Roger sighed and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Listen, boy. Lower your voice. Your mother is crying because of what I told her.”

“And what did you tell her?!” He had no intention of lowering his voice. Ser Roger curled his hands into fists, but he still kept them attached to his chest.

“Your sister, Mattie Warren, has been found guilty of stealing food from a store last night.” Charles’ eyes widened. His mouth dropped open and he shivered with dread.

“Wha-”

“And as you know, stealing is considered to be a horrendous crime by the Blake Knights.” That was a rule that Charles had always believed to be hypocritical. Yes, stealing is a crime, but it shouldn’t be punished as badly as the Blake do. They steal the town folks' money every month. They steal numerous things, but they aren’t punished for it. Why should Maddie be punished? But, what worried Charles was the rule against stealing. Stealing objects, normally, resulted in a hand or foot getting cut off, or maybe sometimes even lead to higher taxes for that person's family. But stealing food was considered to be a horrible crime, due to the food having high significance to the Blake Knights. “But stealing food is even worse. Your sister is going to receive her sentence in two days, in the public square.” Charles gulped. There can’t be any way that this is happening.

“And what sentence will that be?” He already knew the answer. Ser Roger scratched the back of his head.

“Your sister is going to be hanged.”