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22.76% Caracara's Hunt / Chapter 28: Eliot's Choice

Capítulo 28: Eliot's Choice

Eliot was the first to wake up, and he dashed downstairs straight away. Arawn thought he was going to bring up breakfast, but when time continued to pass and the boy didn't return, he started to worry. Had the kid gotten into some kind of trouble?

Yawning, he stood up and went downstairs as well. There were only two people sitting at a corner table and speaking in whispers. They raised their heads when he entered, but didn't pay him much attention. Their conversation resumed moments later.

The kid wasn't in sight, so Arawn went to the counter and rang the bell. The innkeep wasn't present, but a young woman walked out from the back rooms. She gave him a toothy grin and asked what he wanted.

"My younger brother, he should have come here a bit earlier. Did you see where he went?"

"The black-haired kid? You should teach him not to run around when people are still sleeping. And he hurried outside. Didn't you send him to get you something?" the woman said with reproach.

She was misunderstanding something, but Arawn had no wish to find out what. He inclined his head, then went up the stairs to their room and woke Corwal. "Did you send Eliot somewhere?"

The man blinked, trying to return to the world of the wakefulness. "When? In my sleep?" He turned on the other shoulder and closed his eyes again. "You've been in this room the whole time, weren't you?"

"Eliot's missing."

Five seconds passed before Corwal jumped out of bed. He threw the covers to the side and put on his shoes without saying a word. In less than half a minute, he was dressed and ready to leave.

"When did you notice?"

"Just now. He left over an hour ago, and he's not downstairs."

Hours and minutes were still a weird concept for Arawn, but he was starting to get used to them. Still, the bell towers warning was the only way for him to tell how long anything lasted.

"He might've gone into the city for supplies… But we don't really have any money…"

While muttering to himself, Corwal made his way down. He nodded to the woman who was still at the counter and left the inn.

It was still early in the morning, so the streets were deserted. They walked randomly for some time, or so it looked to Arawn. But soon they stopped before a castle in the middle of the city. It towered over every other building but the guard towers.

Without the sun in the sky to light it up, the massive structure looked foreboding, like a squatting brown giant. Arched windows were like a thousand eyes looking at them. Sculptures of canine-like creatures were attached next to them, posed to leap down. The fact that their color had been washed away by time, leaving them green, somehow only made it worse.

"What is this place?" Arawn asked while looking around for anything that might jump on them. The large building unsettled him.

"The city lord lives here. He's the one most likely to have taken hold of Eliot. And I thought we left on good terms."

When they reached the gates, the guard let them through without any trouble. He even thanked them for helping out the other day. "You saved us there. We're all in your debt."

They nodded and went inside. A chamberlain told them to wait a moment, since the lord was occupied. This was surprising since it was early in the day, but they couldn't say anything. From what Arawn had learned so far, they were supposed to be happy the lord had even agreed to see them.

At least they were treated as honored guests. The chamberlain left them in a room flush with wealth. A giant crystal chandelier hung at the top with unlit candles. For a moment, Arawn wondered how anyone would reach them, then remembered fire control.

The walls were decorated with paintings and tapestries portraying various battles while the ground was covered by a colorful carpet. Instead of anything specific, it was full of ornaments that led from one side of the room to another.

While Arawn examined all of it, the chamberlain returned with hot tea and biscuits. They were sweet and crunchy. After Arawn ate the fifth one, however, Corwal started to glare at him.

"Am I not supposed to eat them?" Arawn asked, puzzled. Hadn't they been brought for them?

"Yes… Well, yes but not all! It's impolite to act like a starved animal."

Arawn looked at the rest of the bowl of biscuits with pity. If they didn't want him to eat them, why did they bring such a large bowl full of them? He waited for Corwal to look away, then stole another one and stood up to go admire a tapestry while silently gnawing on his prize.

In a while, the doors opened again, and the old man they'd seen the day before entered. He was dressed in muted colors and didn't look much like a lord at all. If Arawn had met him on the street, he'd have thought that the man was just another citizen based on his casual brown pants and shirt.

"You're early," the lord said. "I wasn't expecting you till midday or even later."

"You know why we're here." Corwal said it like a statement, not a question.

The lord nodded. "You should really teach your brother better. Waking a lord so early could make him lose his head."

As he said that, he stepped into the room, and the person behind him was revealed. Eliot stood there with his head down, hands clasped before himself. He glanced up at them, then lowered his head even more and scurried to stand by the lord again.

The old man went to sit on the sofa in front of them, and the chamberlain poured him a cup of tea. He'd gotten a new teapot, for the water was steaming hot once more.

"You want to say he came to you himself?" The news were surprising, but nothing showed on Corwal's expression. "Eliot? Is that true?"

"Y-y-yes," the boy stammered, his voice barely audible.

They waited for a full explanation, but that was it. Eliot didn't say a word more, only shivering where he stood.

For a moment, Corwal kept his gaze on him, putting pressure, then looked away and leaned back against the sofa. "Do enlighten me what this is about then. I'm eager to understand my role in this play."

Eliot swallowed, his face going pale, and even the lord seemed to sense that something not quite right was in the air. He waved his hand as if to scatter it.

"You've mistaken something. This morning, your brother came to me, asking if I could extend the opportunity I offered you two. He wants to train and learn under my people."

"And you would accept him because he's such a talent? Don't kid me. You care nothing for him."

Even the lord looked taken aback by the venom in Corwal's words, let alone Eliot who looked on the verge of tears. The boy squeezed the folds of his robes until his knuckles were white, but didn't say anything.

"We're not staying here even if you managed to tempt him into joining your side, so you can let him go." Corwal stood up with a sneer. "We're done here. Arawn, Eliot, we're leaving."

He made a motion for the boy, but Eliot backed off, shaking his head. "I can't! I can't!"

Corwal stopped, leveling a cold gaze on him. "And why's that? You already signed yourself away to him?"

"No." The boy shook his head again, and this time tears did fall from his eyes. He tried to say something, but choked on his words and had to restart again. "I can't travel with you, can't you see? I'm only a burden, always getting you in trouble!" He tried to brush away his tears, but even more of them fell. "I'm too useless, so I'm going to stay here. You'll be better off without me."

For a moment, Corwal didn't say anything. He watched the boy with an unreadable expression.

In the end, he turned to the lord. "Why would you accept him?"

"He's got good genes and may become a lot stronger in the future," the old man said with a ghost of a smile. "You two would also owe me a favor, which means I would be winning on two fronts at once. It's a deal hard to refuse, don't you think so?"

"Please don't hate me," Eliot whispered, finally looking up. His eyes were red and puffy, betraying that he'd already cried earlier. "I can't stay with you."

Corwal still had no reaction, but he stepped forward with a shrug. "All's fine then. Why should I keep you from selling yourself to this old man if that's your wish?" He enveloped the kid in a hug and pressed him tight against himself. In his ear, he whispered, "If he bullies you, just say one word, and he'll be off his seat in a heartbeat, understood?"

His words might have been quiet, but everyone in the room could hear them. The lord gave him a reprimanding look, then pretended he'd heard nothing.

Eliot tried to laugh, but only more tears rolled down his cheeks. He wrapped his hands around his master's back and wept unabashedly. "I'll grow up and become so strong that even you will envy me. Just watch! Then you'll never be able to say anything about me coming along!"

"I'm sorry," Corwal said, his voice warming up for the first time that day. "You must have been terrified."

"Next time, I won't be," Eliot swore with vehemence. He pulled away and looked up with clear eyes. "When we meet again, I'll be strong enough to defeat any monster."

"Good then." Corwal took off an unremarkable pin with the contours of a flower at the top and placed it in the boy's hand. "If you ever need to contact me, show this in the places I told you about before, okay?"

The boy clasped the pin in his hand and nodded. "I won't call on you though. I'll become strong and then will come to surprise you!"

"Sure, sure. And you,"—Corwal turned to the lord—"be good to him. You won't lose out."

"I almost miss yesterday's act," the old man said with a laugh and stood up as well. "You aren't just a normal ranker in the Scarlet Treason, are you? Well, all the better for me. I'll make sure he gets the best education that can be found here."

They exchanged a few more niceties, and Corwal told the lord to reach him through Eliot if there was ever a need. He was often on the road, so catching hold of him otherwise would be an almost impossible task.

Arawn just watched it all from the side, once again feeling like more of a spectator than a participant. The games the two men played flew past him, and he could barely understand Eliot's choice. It was logical, but why would he do it? Was it because Arawn wasn't good enough in protecting him as he'd promised?

"I'll miss you," the boy said upon coming over a bit later. "Take care of Master, okay?"

His voice was low, and the two men still exchanging pleasantries or fighting, whatever it was they were doing in reality, didn't hear him.

When Arawn nodded, Eliot hugged him and returned to the lord's side. Corwal used that to end the conversation and said his goodbyes. There was nothing more to be said between them, and they just left the room then were led outside by the chamberlain.

"Are you really fine with this?" Arawn asked when they were some distance away from the castle. "You just allowed Eliot to stay at some unknown noble's place."

"Not that unknown. I've long heard good things about him, and upon interacting with him, I'm inclined to believe them. He didn't get furious when I showed no respect for his station nor did he seem to mind that we'd lied to him yesterday."

Arawn turned to him, surprised. "You were testing him?"

"Of course. Eliot isn't of noble blood, so I needed to know how that old man would act around a lowborn with social standing that didn't treat him like the hot deal. And he passed with flying colors. He really is much more down to the earth than most of the court and doesn't stand on etiquette."

When they were about to reach the inn, Arawn posed another question. "What about that mercenary business? Are you really someone important among them?"

"You could say that. I set up that outfit after all."

"Can I ask if there's anything you haven't done or been?"

"I have yet to wear the king's crown. Or the queen's for that matter," Corwal said with a chuckle. "As for the rest… I've been running around the country since I was fourteen. Ten years is plenty of time to try out being everyone."


Capítulo 29: Hired

When they returned and checked out, the innkeeper gave them a questioning look, but didn't say anything. The sun had just risen, but they were already walking toward the gates leading outside.

"How far is that city? Can we walk there?" Arawn asked.

"Too long. I don't have much money left either, so we'll be selling our services."

Money was a concept that Arawn had yet to explore. He knew it were the shiny circular things people exchanged, but Corwal had said he should leave it alone for the time being. After all, Arawn's counting ability didn't go past his ten fingers.

Near the gates, they took a sharp turn to the right and reached a large square which was full of wagons. People were only getting out of them and yawning while shielding their eyes to look at the sun. Most of them were dressed in plain tunics, with few looking better off.

Corwal led them to one of the larger wagons with a red roof. A man with a sword at his belt raised his hand to stop them. "What is your business here?"

"I'd like to meet the caravan master. I heard she's looking for hired help."

"And you think she'd take you?" the man sneered. He was middle-aged and with grey hair at his temples, but still spry. The way he moved betrayed his military upbringing.

A woman's head popped out from the back of the caravan at that moment. She was no more than twenty, and her red hair looked like flames in the morning light. Arawn almost took a step back at the sight; he'd never seen such a weird thing.

"What's the noise?" she asked, eyeing them with interest.

"Are you the owner of this caravan?" When the woman nodded, Corwal continued. "Then I'd like to offer my services. I'm a water based mage and my friend here is good with ether."

The woman watched him with her brow creased, then her eyes lit up with recognition. "You're the two from the day before! I saw you put down that beast!"

She clapped her hands while Corwal inclined his head, and she jumped off the wagon. "My sister wanted to find and thank you, but you seemed to have disappeared in the chaos after the attack. Come! She really wants to meet you!"

In the next wagon, the woman spent a few minutes waking up her sister and explaining to her what was happening. When she emerged, she was followed by a young woman Arawn recognized. She was the person with the two children before which Corwal had jumped out to protect from the beast.

Upon seeing him, the woman went on her knees and bowed. Tears flowed from her eyes. "Thank you, thank you!" she repeated. "You saved the lives of my children and me. I don't know how we could ever repay you. Thank you. May your soul go straight to heaven."

Caught a little off guard, Corwal took a moment to lift the woman up from the ground. "You don't need to do this. I just did what anyone would have done."

"But they didn't," the woman said with a sneer. "They all ran away like cowards, all the high-paid guards we had hired." There was such vehemence in her words that even Arawn felt a chill go down his back.

"That's… They probably had good reason…"

"Yeah, to save their own pathetic lives. They—"

"Lis," the younger woman said, giving her older sister a chagrining look. "They're not here to hear about your troubles. They came looking for employment."

This seemed to surprise the elder sister. She stopped and gave them a onceover. "You want to be hired by us?" At a nod, the woman leveled a dark stare at her sister. "And you haven't already drawn up a contract? We can't let them change their mind!"

Corwal pretended like he wasn't there at that moment, and Arawn did the same. The exchanges between the sisters were too fast for him to understand what was happening. One moment there were tears, then smiles, anger, and then annoyance. What was even happening?

"What will we have to do?" Arawn asked while the sisters argued about the contract details among themselves.

"Nothing, if we're lucky," Corwal said with a shrug. "But if the caravan gets attacked, we'll have to risk our lives to protect it."

Some time later, the younger sister waved for them to follow her. She led them to her wagon and came out with two pieces of paper. Fresh ink still glistened on the two sentences on each one.

"I'm Deena, by the way, and this is my family's caravan. We'll need today to sell some of our excess goods, but we'll be bringing the rest to Mairya, so be here early tomorrow morning, okay?"

Corwal didn't say anything while reading through the few lines scribbled on the paper. "This is more than you'd offer your average guards."

"We already know your capabilities, and it would be a shame if you found a better offer. There are a couple caravans leaving toward Mairya at this time." Deena flicked her hair back and grinned at them. "So who are you? Ex-army? Some personal guards running away from their lord? Wait, could you be royal guard?" Her hand went to cover her mouth at that speculation.

"Miss, you sure have a wild imagination." While saying that, Corwal pocketed the two pieces of paper. "We're just some mercenaries down on our luck. Our outfit disbanded, and others around here would rather see us dead than let us join."

The girl seemed disappointed by such a common story—at least Arawn guessed it was common from her reaction—and changed the topic. She told them about their goods, which were mostly precious stones and fabrics, and how they would receive a bonus if they didn't lose a single wagon on the journey.

She then led them to the wagons assigned to the guards who didn't have their animals and presented them to the man they'd met before. The middle-aged swordsman wasn't too happy to see them, but once he heard they were Lis' saviors, his expression relaxed a little.

They were assigned to a wagon which already housed four men, and then were left to their own devices. Deena had to go sell some of their wares while the middle-aged man named Arthur never left her side, acting as her bodyguard.

Sitting on the wagon's edge, Arawn looked around. There were around forty other guards around them. Half of them were in similar leather armor and seemed like they belonged together, while the rest were a ragtag bunch of colors. Some had simple clothes, others mismatched pieces of armor, while a few were sweating buckets in full plate armor.

"Is armor really that useful?" Arawn asked after a moment. He could just cleave through it with ether like it wasn't even there, so what was the point of even suffering under it?

Corwal followed his gaze and smirked. "They think it makes them look strong. It has some value against normal people, but mages… he'd be fried, choked, or tripped straight away."

"So those in armor are definitely not mages. What about others?"

"Most, probably. And even those in armor should have some ability. Few people would hire guards who can't protect them from sorcerous attacks."

"What about you, why don't you wear any armor?"

Instead of answering, Corwal sent a needle of ether his way. Arawn leaned back, barely dodging it on time. "What was that!" he shouted out, angry.

"Your answer. Do you think I could be able to dodge and evade while weighted down by armor? Armor is good when fighting against normal warriors, but when faced with mages… Are you going to block the earth that opens up beneath you? The fire that threatens to scorch you? In mage battles, agility is more important than any defence. The first attack that lands usually determines the winner."

The talk of battles reminded Arawn how terrible was his own control of ether. Some people were not only able to fight with their chosen element, but even add some sword skills to compliment it. Compared to that, he was quite pathetic.

His fighting spirit blazed up, and he called upon the ether. As always, it rushed over, coating his hands. The white dust was barely noticeable in the bright morning light, but Arawn could feel the ether about to burrow into his skin. He ordered it to stay still, to not move, to remain stationary, but all of it was in vain.

No matter how he phrased it, the ether acted on its own. It was as if it only knew two commands: come and leave. Nothing else was going through its thick head.

"You're trying too hard," Corwal said from the side. He raised his left hand, and soft white light covered it. "Ether is not active in and of itself. Unless we call, it never moves. So when it comes to you, just stop calling to it. Don't give it any orders, and it will remain collected in your hands."

It sounded simple enough, but when Arawn tried to do it, he realized something he'd known before—he had no idea how he called the ether. He thought of it as calling, but he wasn't actually saying anything, or even consciously thinking about it. Like his hands, he just moved it somehow.

Still, he tried to shut off the weird connection with the ether when it came to him. This slowed the ether, and he was about to cry out in joy when he saw something strange. Why were some of the white particles drifting away from his hands? There was a weird whirlwind about his hand, with the ether going back and forth.

"Now you're telling it to come and leave at the same time. Try imaging it as pulling on a kite. If you roll the line, the kite comes closer to you, while if you let go, it would drift away. Instead of doing either of that, just hold it still."

"What's a kite?" Arawn asked, turning his head away from the ether for a moment.

Corwal covered his eyes with his hand. "I think the biggest problem with teaching you is not your lack of talent, but that you don't understand anything I tell you." He sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Just try it while I think of another way to explain it to you."

Arawn nodded, ready to call for the ether again when he saw four men standing before them. He wasn't sure when they'd come, but they didn't look like they were dangerous. One of them was holding his cap in his hands and crumpling it like it had done something to him.

"Master Mage, could we bother you to guide us as well? It would be an honor to learn from someone as great as you." The man's voice shook when he spoke with his head lowered. He didn't even dare to raise it to see Corwal's reaction.

"Why would you call me such? I'm nothing but a mercenary like you."

"Master Mage!" the man shouted out, finally raising his head. There was a fervent look in his eyes. It was full of admiration and exoneration for Corwal. "How could you compare yourself to nobodies like us! We've never seen anything more glorious than your fight with the beast!"

Ignored, Arawn couldn't help scrunching up his brow. All Corwal had done was block one attack with a sword and send a bolt of ether at the beast. After that, they just ran around the field like fools until the army came and cornered it so Arawn could blast it to smithereens.

How exactly did that make Corwal a hero?

Arawn had a question for the four men: were they bad on the eyes or totally blind?


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