Snow?
The girl took soft steps in her rough boots, thick, worn elk-hide coat and woolen hat. The snow allowed her footprints to be planted in the terrain, slowly being refilled by the gentle fall of the ice crystals. She was walking with her brother to the Barking Lodge, wanting to speak to the knights again. Her mother was finally off at the city, probably showing the new knight recruits around. The Aelveil county knights and the Flaus have always been on good terms on her mother's side of the family, that being because Nattia's grandmother's father came from Aelveil to settle the farm.
Soon Nattia would try her start at Five Triangle Arts. How terrifying, Nattia thought, and how pressured I feel. It seems that this will be the highest point of my life! How will it go...
Whoosh! Pwoom. Ouch. Arren threw a densely-packed snowball at his sister's face, the cold impact of the projectile leaving a dull sting.
"Arren!" she exclaimed, stunned momentarily, "Why’d you do that?"
He held his hands up in defense and mouthed something.
"Well if you want frostbite, I'll be glad." The girl had a mischievous look upon her face. She used her spell sign, Illuminate Orb, to summon a small, physical orb that emitted light. She filled it with snow, and sent the orb flying towards her fleeing brother, just meters away. The spell was diminished right before it hit the poor boy and he fell into the snow with a silent yelp.
Arren looked up to find his sister triumphant over him, a smug look on her face. This means war.
He obediently stood up, his head hung low. His sister was about to scold him when he sent a wave of snow her way. Let the battle begin!
Arren ran away and started building a small barrier, and his sister started with her own, unfairly using the orb spell to push snow around. Nattia was thinking of vengeance, while her brother was thinking of battle. The two young strategists set up their forts with minor difficulty, their childhood filled with a few good winter wars of snow. This war, the First Barking Trail War, will be grand! Well, the name is nice, Nattia thought, it makes it feel really challenging!
Nattia had to pat down the snow by hand, her orb spell having no friction. She was much farther progressed than her brother, a small trench behind her large barrier. Arren, in the meantime, had a small wall, enough to hide behind, but not enough. Definitely not enough! he thought.
Too bad, though, because Nattia started with her snowballs. She had to escape her fortification for a short time to get the snow from the disputed territory to gather ammunition for her weapons. She would wait for her brother to cross no-man's land, just like how some Northerners would tell of their ancestors' battles in their old home country across the Far Lands.
But Arren was finished with his fort and was not venturing out, because he decided to not be the aggressor. Nattia's patience was getting to her, and Arren knew she would decide to attack instead. And so be it, she sprung from her encampment and went forth towards the enemy fortress cautiously.
Up came the enemy! The invader threw two snowballs, but quickly was intimidated by the onslaught of snow from the defender. This defender is powerful! The invader dug a hole in the snow and hid there, giving herself time to plan out a scheme. She jumped up and threw a snowball, but the enemy was nowhere to be seen! Hiding behind his walls, maybe, that tricky fellow, Nattia thought.
Run to the enemy encampment! Nattia got there just in time, for her brother threw a snowball blindly to the small ditch she dug before. She sprung up, hitting him square in the face. He fell with a soft thud onto the bare, cold ground below him.
"Victory!" Nattia acclaimed, "Hah! I won, Arren. You can't retaliate now."
The boy mouthed words with tears forming in his eyes. But he manned up, no tears fell.
"Sorry if I was hard on you, but war isn't about fairness." She held a smirk that wouldn't dissipate.
Arren mouthed a few more words.
"You're right, let's get going to the Lodge. It'll be warm." She gripped her brother's arm and helped him up. "Even in war, there is honor!" She received a silent laugh from the mute boy.
The two continued their walk towards the Barking Lodge. They weren't too far away, a knight with a heavy coat already in view. They greeted the knight from afar, his rough voice answering in return. This knight was a young squire, really, coming to the Lodge just this past late autumn. He's apparently from Scatlii, the village in Eslientia not too far away from the farm, whose inhabitants would pass the farm once in a while to trade with the main town, and he was apprenticing for knighthood in Aelveil to the north, because Eslientum knights are not exactly ideal to apprentice for.
The two children approached the building and the squire next to it. He was currently chopping some firewood, hoping to last for the rest of the cold winter day. His child-hands were being challenged, but his history of wielding weapons kept him steady. He wore a frowned expression, the usual look of his.
"He always looks so sad," Nattia whispered to Arren as they took through the door to the inside of the building. Arren nodded slowly in return. The boy was perhaps the same age as Arren.
"Well here's the Flaus," one knight greeted as the two entered inside.
"Any magic?" another asked lazily, lounging on a chair by the hearth.
"None, but me," Nattia replied to the last.
"When can we get Hund already? The kid said you were willing for that dog to go hunting..."
"I think Hund is sick. He's been very lazy, and trying to get outside whenever I do. He's bound to the barn now." She could still hear some sort of cursing coming from the barn. Just what was wrong with that dog? A possession?
"Hopefully he's not mad," the oldest knight prayed.
"No, no he's not. He’d be fiercer if he was."
"Well, anyways, you can lounge around here if you want, Flaus."
"That's what we plan to do." Nattia allowed Arren a seat, like a good older sister, rubbed his hair and took to her own chair.
Everything in the building, save the hearth, was made of wood, anything being coated with a comfy pelt or two, the pelts sitting around for whoever wishes to grab one. The air was warm from the fire, a kind atmosphere around the habitants. A few chats and drinks to pass around, the boy and girl had thoughts pondering on their minds.
The Academy. Would I be let in? Nattia thought, Am I powerful enough? No, am I good enough? Power shouldn't be an option here. Power is bad. I need enough will, not all power. Magic is a very careful subject, and I can't fail in it!
The Magon. My sister might be among them in due time, Arren thought, Is this right? Should she go? What if she... changes? What if she comes back home hating Nigon like the rest of them? What if... what if she comes back to death, or comes back to war, and has to choose a side? Bandits captured, other bandits riled, Nigon burning with hatred, knights readying their swords and maces... would any Nigon really accept her if she chose Nigon? Would any Magon spare her family if she chose Magon? Would she care about us, would we care about her? Would we kill her if war broke out? Would she kill us? Oh, damn! This is not a safe subject! My sister will be in the Academy, and who's to stop her?! Aress encourages her! Mother even encourages her! Do they think she can be some hero? Heroes don't exist! Only justifiers. Corrupt justifiers.
Those children seem troubled, a knight thought, I guess the Magon business is with them, too. No easy topic, that is. A Magon born of two Nigon, she has to be Freir... or some sick test of Magon hierarchy. Show that if Nigon can be cleansed, Magon will pop out of the mothers. Damn Magon, all corrupt. Hm... I should help the two kids relax their worries.
"Who's up for a game of Blades and Shields?" the same knight questioned.
The other knights and the children glanced up from their thoughts and drinks. The squire came in, dusting his boots of snow.
"Looks like we have enough," a knight second added.
"Aye! Now, let's get the board set."
"I'll be a Blade, I suppose," Nattia decided.
Arren picked up a Blade piece, siding with his sister. The piece was a simple orange-coated wood block, inclining into a sort of topless pyramid.
"Squire, what of you?" the first knight asked.
"Blade," the squire curtly replied.
"Then the younger ones are Blades, the three knights Shields. Fortress or castle? Maybe hamlet, even?"
"Keep it simple, sir. Fortress."
"Then let's strategize our positions on the board! Let's see..."
Worries or not, the building was full of a lively few games that day.887Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiLHDq0jsg0
