Please tear this apart

Chapter one

Blossom Town’s suffering had only grown worse. The farmers brought less and less produce and food to the market each week. Daily, wagons rumbled through the streets, carrying the bodies of the victims of starvation. The familiar sound of wheel against stone brought villagers from their cottages or work to watch in somber silence as the wagon rolled by on the way to the cemetery. Some would weep, others cross themselves and pray. All, however, felt one of three things: pity, fear, and anger. Why must they suffer? What had they done wrong to deserve this? Had not all their lives they had been faithful to God, and this is how He repaid them? There was also anger directed at another person: the king of Terre (which is the country Blossom Town was situated in), King Lawrence.

Eldred Favri, a knight under Lord Damien, was about 21. He was tall, muscular, with black hair and jade green eyes, and would be considered handsome if not for the fact that he always wore a frown. The scar on his face did not help, for it was long, noticeable, and ran from the top of his cheek down to the end of it. One particular day, a death wagon clattered by, and Eldred watched from an alleyway, silently praying. Oh, Lord, have mercy on the souls of those who died. Remember your children and their suffering, please deliver us all from the blight facing our land. Around him, peasants spoke in whispers.

“My friend died today from the famine, and what does our king do? Nothing!”

“I hear he sits in his castle all day in comfort, with food of all types and the best ale and wine you ever tasted!”

“I heard that too! And his knights grow fat, while our own die protecting us from the thieves and creatures around here!”

And on the whispers circled, growing more bitter the more the peasants talked. Eldred tried to ignore them, tried to focus on his prayers. He was accustomed, at that point, to the peasant’s gossip. It did not make it any easier, however, when they talked so harshly about his king.

Slowly, the crowd dispersed, some following the wagon to the church cemetery, others back to their work, and Eldred was alone. How many have died in our village now? Five today… that would make Ninety. Ninety… ninety of his beloved countrymen, women, and even children, dead. And it was not only in Blossom Town. No, all across Terre, except in the fishing communities up north, the famine spread like a disease. The causes of the famine were unknown, at the time, but one rumor suggested a bug, coming from one of the faroff countries Terre traded with, had invaded Southern Terre and front there the death and destruction came. Eldred sighed, and moved from his position back to his waiting horse, his time of patrol over. Reaching his horse, he untied the reins from the tree, climbed atop, and spurred his horse toward Lord Damien’s castle in the warm spring afternoon. His horse clip-clopped along the cobblestone path, and on either side of the path, cottages and shops lined the way. Horses pulled wagons of hay, wood, and various other goods, peasants carried their own goods, the women with their baskets and the men with their bundles. Some waved at Eldred, others walked by without much of a glance, all worked. Eldred waved back at a few, giving a small half smile. “Sir Knight!” He heard a voice, that of a child, call. Eldred looked to his right, a few feet away a young boy and his friends stood by a cottage. He smiled, waved, about to carry on, when the boy waved and called again, “Would you show us your sword?” Eldred glanced at the boy, back at Lord Damien’s castle, back at the boy, knew he would be missing more training, and dismounted. “Of course.” He answered, waiting for a man to pass by before leading his horse to the boys. “Would anyone like to hold the reins while I draw the sword?” “I would!” Came the cries from all of the boys. Eldred smiled again, and handed them to a boy among the group with large, blue eyes and curly dark hair, his eyes shining as he grasped it in his hand. Eldred turned to the boy who had called him over. “What is your name?” “William.” The boy answered, grinning, then, with an air of pride, added, “I’m 7.” “Seven? Well, that certainly is a fine age.” William’s grin widened, “Thank you sir. May we see your sword now?” “Certainly.” Eldred answered, and drew forth the double edged beauty. Gleaming in the sunlight, Eldred gripped the leather wound handle, displaying it to the boys. Gasps and squeals of excitement came from them as they each stared, mesmerized, by the blade. Eldred turned it over a few times in his hand, showing each side. “This sword was given to me by my father when I was a lad, just as yourselves.” He explained, turning to the side and swinging it around in the air. He thrust at an imaginary enemy. “He gave it the name, ‘Ad Victorium’. ‘To victory.’” The boys all watched, open mouthed. Eldred lowered the sword, “Line up and I will let you hold it. Do not swing or play with it.” cheers erupted from the boys, a fierce scramble for first ensued, and finally, they were straightened out into an almost perfect line. “Very good.” Eldred praised, handing the sword to the first boy in line, a skinny, malnourished boy with dark blonde hair. He helped his hands hold the sword’s handle, then, for a moment, let him hold it on his own. His eyes glowed with excitement, a contagious smile on his face, as he gripped the handle and raised the sword. After another moment, he passed it onto the next boy and Eldred helped him hold it. Down the line the sword passed, oohs and ahs coming from the mouths of each boy as the clasped it in their small hands. Finally, it had reached the last boy, the youngest and smallest, laughing slightly as he took it in his hands. With one hand, he touched the metal, and smiled. Then, he gave it back to Eldred, and they all gave their thanks. Eldred dipped his head in appreciation, there was a yell from a woman a few cottages away, another from one in the opposite direction, and William’s friends ran off, waving and shouting goodbye. “Goodbye!” Eldred called.

“Sir knight, did your father make that sword?” William asked, and Eldred turned back to face him. He nodded. “My father was a blacksmith, and made the most magnificent swords in all of Terre.” He paused, the sounds of hammer hitting metal and the sight of sparks flying filling his memory, then continued. “He made a blade for my brother as well, and would show us how to wield one. Do you know what he would always tell us?” “What?” William questioned. Eldred looked back at him, pushing down a sudden sadness. He was too skinny for his age, most likely starving. All of them had seemed that way, and they were all too young to suffer.

“‘Sons,’ he would tell us, ‘this blade you hold in your hand is never to be used for injustice, nor selfish gain, nor murder, nor wickedness. The blade you hold is to protect those who cannot protect themselves; it is for serving your country, and defending what is true and right. Use it to fight for what is right, for God, for country, and for each other.’” Eldred finished.

William stood, staring, thoughtful. “Your father sounds nice.” He said after a moment. “He was. He was a very good man.” Eldred smiled, placing his sword back in its sheath. “Do you think I could be a knight one day?” William looked up hopefully. “Perhaps one day.” Eldred answered, “You must train every day to work for it, not only physically though. You must be trained spiritually, and be fervent in prayer each day, and walk rightly with God. Practice every day to be kind, and most important do not give up even when things are hard.” William nodded with enthusiasm, “Yes, I promise I will! I will do it as soon as I finish my chores today! Goodbye!” He raced off down the street, and was gone.

Now you have filled him with false hope. The voice nagged at him as Eldred rode his horse back to the castle. He will have that hope most of his life, never to be fulfilled. And who does he have to blame for it? Why, you, of course. You should have let him be, and all those young boys, rather than give them a taste of what they will never be. “Fool.” Eldred whispered to himself, his regular frown on his face. “Must I hurt everyone I meet?”

The castle, built on top of the hill, overlooked Blossom Town. Made of stone, the top of its towers rising high into the air, slabs cut out to form windows dotting them. A wall surrounded the inner buildings, a sturdy, oak gate with two guards standing on either side of it, was in the center. The banners of Terre, royal blue with white bordering it and a gold bear in the middle, hung from two of the windows. Eldred reached the gate, and the guards stopped him. “Halt! Where have you come from and what is your name?” “My name is Sir Eldred Favri, and I have come from patrol in the village.” “Patrol? Your shift ended half an hour ago, where have you been?” One guard inquired, lowering his spear. “A few children stopped to talk with me.” Eldred explained, realizing that he really was late for training. “May I enter now?.” The guards nodded, called up to the guards on the wall, and soon the gate was opened. “Have a good day, Sir Eldred.” “Thank you, and you as well.” Eldred responded, snapping his reins and entering the castle walls.

Few were out in the courtyard, but farther on, the grunts and yells of men could be heard. Eldred climbed off his horse and led it to the stable, handed the reins to a stable boy, and hurried off to the knights. There they were, the knights under Lord Damien, almost all 250 of them, some on scouting missions, patrol or studying other skills. “Eldred, where have you been?” The head knight had spotted him and walked over, frowning. “You should have been here half an hour ago.” “I apologize, sir. A few boys wanted to see my sword.” the head knight’s face softened, and he chuckled. “Oh, that’s alright. I thought there was a bit of trouble from some thieves, really. Anway, let’s get you paired up with someone. Today is hand to hand combat.” he led Eldred to a bench where, sitting on it, was an unpaired knight. “Percival, your brother just came back from patrol and needs a partner.” Percival stood up, nodded, and the head knight pointed the two over to an open area. Wordlessly, they walked over. Eldred noticed Percival was glaring at him. “Figures I would get paired with you.” He muttered, lowering his visor and taking out his sword. Eldred did not answer, knew that nothing he would say would alleviate any emotions Percival felt towards him for what he had done, what he still did. “Ready!” The head knight shouted.

“Beware, brother, I will not go easy on you simply because we are related.” Eldred warned, grasping the hilt of his sword and unsheathing it. “Do you take me for a fool?” Percival scoffed, readying his stance. “I will not relent this time around.” They gripped their handles with two hands, keeping their eyes trained on the other through their helmets. “Commence!” The head-knight shouted, and the training began. Percival charged towards Eldred, aiming a thrust of his sword at Eldred’s heart. Eldred parried, hitting the tip of the blade with his own. Pushing Percival off, he readied himself in a defensive stance. Percival bounced back, maintaining an offensive position, and slashed at Eldred’s legs. Eldred jumped back, barely missing the blade. Swiftly, dodging another attack, he decided it was time to play offense. Blocking a swing of Percival’s sword, he lunged, bringing his sword down upon Percival’s helmet. In all of Percival’s rage, he failed to notice the attack and was knocked down. He groaned, his head surging in pain. “Are you alright, Percival?” Eldred questioned, sheathing his sword, and extending his hand to help. “I’m fine, and I do not need your help.” Percival retorted, smacking away the hand and rising to his feet unsteadily. “I need a minute to gain my senses, leave me alone.” Eldred complied, watching Percival trudge to a nearby bench. Perhaps I was too hard on him. But, he cannot expect to not get knocked around during training.

“Percival, where are you off to?” The head knight called out to him. Percival turned. “I got hit a bit too hard while fighting Eldred, I just need a few moments to regain my senses, that is all.” “Ah, well, you know older brothers.” The head knight grinned. “Always have to be hard on the younger brother.” Percival lifted his visor and smiled. “Yes, well that is to be expected.” With that, he left for one of the benches.

@theducktator

Great catch! Thanks!

@ellette-giselle

Thank you, and thanks for helping with the historical accuracy (I will definitely need help with that lol)

@linus-smallprint

Okay, agreed, the beginning is not great imo, I will definitely change it, and the formatting. Thanks!

@keilah-h

Okay, that way looks a lot better, and I see what you mean, it is kind of confusing. Thank you!

@keilah-h

Weird, the same thing is happening to me too.