Blade Archer ~ Fourteen
Nov. 23rd, 2004 01:26 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
As far as Kael could see, nothing changed in the months following Alurié’s coronation. He lived the same at home, there was no smaller or greater number of police to add another scar to his wrist, beer remained the same price at the Charging Nira. All that had really changed was that the new queen was present at fewer dagger training sessions, and wore her crown when she was there.
The third year of Kael’s training saw the change from wooden swords to blunt steel ones, along with the introduction of archery. Kael liked the bow and arrow to begin with, since it was a change from the close combat of his other weapons, but once he had to actually pull the bowstring, he realised that being a blade archer did not necessarily make a boy an archer.
At the end of the first day he’d grown more than a bit frustrated with the bow, and decided to vent that frustration out with a bit of what he considered to be more conventional archery, flinging his dagger at the miniscule Middle Red in place of the arrows. The practice worked miracles, and he almost felt the frown melt from his forehead.
The sun dipped towards the horizon and the other archers and blade archers in the range began to depart, presumably to take a drink or two at their tavern of choice. As Kael yanked his dagger from the target for the umpteenth time, he noticed two boys wearing the blue shirts of training archers who had been watching him.
The frown of irritation reappeared on his brow as he made his way back to his mark. He didn’t say a word, or other looking at the boys though, hoping instead that they would grow bored and just leave. There was no such luck.
“Ye in year four?” the taller of the two boys asked, obviously trying to make conversation.
Kael didn’t miss the boy’s accent, and he lined up for another shot, grinning spontaneously when the dagger’s point embedded itself in the tiny red thumbprint in the centre of the target. “Three,” he answered, “What about yerself?” There was no way the boy would have gotten so much out of him did he not have the accent of the southern districts. Not so far south as Kael perhaps, but south enough for Kael to consider him a local.
“One,” the boy answered, “Old enough to be year three though. Aren’t ye supposed to start blade archery in year four?”
Kael shrugged, removing his dagger once more. “Got frustrated with the kind of archery ye two does.”
“Ah.” The boy fell silent while Kael cast his dagger once again at the target. “I’m Aen, by the way. He’s Kelon.”
The younger boy waved obligingly, but said nothing.
“Kael,” the training blade archer replied, then jerked his head towards the targets lining the opposite wall. “How does ye two go at my kind of archery?”
Both boys laughed sheepishly, looking respectively at sky and floor.
“Not too bad. Could be better though,” Aen said.
“Could be much better for me,” Kelon added, the first words Kael had heard him utter.
Kael frowned and lowered his dagger, frowning at the younger boy. “How’ve ye been living, then?”
Kelon shrugged, eyes still on the floor. “Three older brothers, they help me out. I’m not that far south,” he added defensively. Now that he had spoken in more words, Kael could hear his more cultured accent. “I live right on the Main Road.” He grinned spontaneously at the training blade archer. “Get to see the Own from the roof when they leave.”
Kael rolled his eyes and brought his attention back to the target in front of him. “One of those people, are ye?”
“What?” Kelon’s voice was plaintive.
“Have you ever met one of those pompous horse riders?” Kael countered, eyebrows raised to emphasise his question.
Both boys’ eyes glittered, having completely missed the question. “Are ye saying ye has?” Aen asked.
“Just the weapons masters,” Kael answered, “And then the two swordsmen who showed off halfway through last year. Aeia, they were bad.”
Aen frowned defensively. “They’re not all pompous.”
Kael laughed darkly. “If ye introduces me to one that isn’t, I’ll believe ye. Til then I’ll go on personal experience.”
Aen pouted. “I’m going to get in the Own, ye just watch.”
The third year blade archer raised an eyebrow. “Ye keep telling yerself that.”
In a snap, Aen drew his dagger, bearing the same rust and tarnish as Kael’s, and hurled it at Kael’s target. It didn’t hit home in Middle Red, but it did manage to brush the outer rim of the centre white circle. The archer folded his arms, a lopsided grin plastered over his face.
Kael scrutinised the implanted dagger. “Shot,” he conceded, “But not Own material.”
“I suppose yer reckoning is that ye’ll get there yerself?”
Kael laughed openly. “Aeia, no! I wouldn’t join if they begged me to!”
Aen looked hurt.
Kael shook his head and walked over to slap the other boy on the shoulder. “It’s my brother’s hrai-dani in five days. We need to make up the numbers.”
Kelon and Aen exchanged glances, silently debating the invitation.
“Third district from the palace,” Kael informed them. “Don’t worry, me and me brother and sister are the ones who give it that reputation,” he added at their worried glances.
Finally Aen nodded, and Kelon followed suit. “Follow the sounds of raucous celebration then?”
Kael grinned. “That’s about it. See ye both there, then!”
On the eve of Ynuk’s twentieth birthday—his hrai-dani—Kael’s mother, along with at least half the other women in the district, set about making the feast that would take them through until midnight.
The twentieth birthday was always a big celebration for Raykinians. It marked the day when a boy would be recognised as a man, and a girl as a woman. For the boys, it meant that the next full moon would see them married.
Seeing Ynuk with his arm around the shoulders of his wife-to-be made Kael realise he had only two and a half years until he was in the same position. Training as he did with forty-nine other boys, it didn’t make for the most ideal environment to meet members of the opposite gender. He really only knew a handful of the healers, and even then, Ronanen was the only one he knew on a first name basis. He hardly knew her well enough to ask for her to be his wife, at any rate.
He nodded resolutely as he carved up yet another eggplant. Over the next two years, that would have to change.
Through the night, the beer flowed from the four casks donated by the Charging Nira. It wasn’t as good as Kael and his brother and sister were used to, but considering it was free, Kael was more than happy.
The moon rose higher in the night sky, until it finally began to make its decent, indicating that Ynuk was now officially twenty.
In the absence of their father, the task fell upon Kael to make a speech about his older brother, something he had been dreading at least since Spring. He’d never much been one for public appearances. Throwing his dagger at the target in a pub and inevitably winning was one thing, but drawing attention to himself for something he wasn’t good at was another entirely. He had to make it good though; Ynuk would be the one to speak at Kael’s own hrai-dani in two years’ time.
It didn’t help that he was quite drunk when he climbed the ladder to the roof of their house, another tankard held not-so-firmly in his left hand.
“Tonight,” he began, “we celebrate the hrai-dani of me brother, Ynuk.” He paused, as much waiting for the alcohol-induced cheering to subside as he was trying to think where to start. “Without Papa, he’s the one who taught me and Elara how to use a dagger and our fists better, the one who taught us how to pick a pocket without getting caught too often, the one who taught us all those life lessons we wouldn’t know if he hadn’t been there.”
He frowned, wondering vaguely how long a hrai-dani speech was supposed to be. He now wished he’d actually listened to the fathers at all those hrai-danis he’d been to in the past for some source of inspiration.
“I guess I could say something about how he was also the one to dunk us both in the river, or nick off when things went pear-shaped in the northern districts, but he’s going to be saying stuff at my hrai-dani, so I won’t.” He grinned at the laughter that filtered through the crowd, which again probably wouldn’t have been present if there was no beer.
“I have no idea how long these things are supposed to be, but I guess that’s long enough.” He lifted his nearly-full tankard to the nearly-full moon in a toast. “Ynuk!”
“Ynuk!” the contingent echoed, raising their own tankards, most of which had been filled during the speech, then they all drained the tankards and crashed them together with another cheer.
Kael grinned and slid unsteadily back down the ladder. He was certain he’d heard better hrai-dani speeches before, but then, those men had probably all rehearsed theirs beforehand anyway. They were generally well-known for being somewhat marred by alcohol, not that Kael felt he could have done much better without a beer glass in his hand.
He was greeted by several slaps on the back when he reached the bottom of the ladder, from his family as well as anyone else who happened to be nearby.
Ynuk was grinning mischievously as he rested his hand on Kael’s shoulder.
“Ye realises, of course, that this was your only opportunity, right?”
Kael frowned, then slapped a his palm against his forehead. Apparently his own hrai-dani was going to be something to beware of. At least, come the morning, he wouldn’t remember any of it.
~ ~ ~
Chapter~ 1682
Total~ 23 757
Time~ 2hrs, 4mins
Total~ 32hrs, 14mins
The third year of Kael’s training saw the change from wooden swords to blunt steel ones, along with the introduction of archery. Kael liked the bow and arrow to begin with, since it was a change from the close combat of his other weapons, but once he had to actually pull the bowstring, he realised that being a blade archer did not necessarily make a boy an archer.
At the end of the first day he’d grown more than a bit frustrated with the bow, and decided to vent that frustration out with a bit of what he considered to be more conventional archery, flinging his dagger at the miniscule Middle Red in place of the arrows. The practice worked miracles, and he almost felt the frown melt from his forehead.
The sun dipped towards the horizon and the other archers and blade archers in the range began to depart, presumably to take a drink or two at their tavern of choice. As Kael yanked his dagger from the target for the umpteenth time, he noticed two boys wearing the blue shirts of training archers who had been watching him.
The frown of irritation reappeared on his brow as he made his way back to his mark. He didn’t say a word, or other looking at the boys though, hoping instead that they would grow bored and just leave. There was no such luck.
“Ye in year four?” the taller of the two boys asked, obviously trying to make conversation.
Kael didn’t miss the boy’s accent, and he lined up for another shot, grinning spontaneously when the dagger’s point embedded itself in the tiny red thumbprint in the centre of the target. “Three,” he answered, “What about yerself?” There was no way the boy would have gotten so much out of him did he not have the accent of the southern districts. Not so far south as Kael perhaps, but south enough for Kael to consider him a local.
“One,” the boy answered, “Old enough to be year three though. Aren’t ye supposed to start blade archery in year four?”
Kael shrugged, removing his dagger once more. “Got frustrated with the kind of archery ye two does.”
“Ah.” The boy fell silent while Kael cast his dagger once again at the target. “I’m Aen, by the way. He’s Kelon.”
The younger boy waved obligingly, but said nothing.
“Kael,” the training blade archer replied, then jerked his head towards the targets lining the opposite wall. “How does ye two go at my kind of archery?”
Both boys laughed sheepishly, looking respectively at sky and floor.
“Not too bad. Could be better though,” Aen said.
“Could be much better for me,” Kelon added, the first words Kael had heard him utter.
Kael frowned and lowered his dagger, frowning at the younger boy. “How’ve ye been living, then?”
Kelon shrugged, eyes still on the floor. “Three older brothers, they help me out. I’m not that far south,” he added defensively. Now that he had spoken in more words, Kael could hear his more cultured accent. “I live right on the Main Road.” He grinned spontaneously at the training blade archer. “Get to see the Own from the roof when they leave.”
Kael rolled his eyes and brought his attention back to the target in front of him. “One of those people, are ye?”
“What?” Kelon’s voice was plaintive.
“Have you ever met one of those pompous horse riders?” Kael countered, eyebrows raised to emphasise his question.
Both boys’ eyes glittered, having completely missed the question. “Are ye saying ye has?” Aen asked.
“Just the weapons masters,” Kael answered, “And then the two swordsmen who showed off halfway through last year. Aeia, they were bad.”
Aen frowned defensively. “They’re not all pompous.”
Kael laughed darkly. “If ye introduces me to one that isn’t, I’ll believe ye. Til then I’ll go on personal experience.”
Aen pouted. “I’m going to get in the Own, ye just watch.”
The third year blade archer raised an eyebrow. “Ye keep telling yerself that.”
In a snap, Aen drew his dagger, bearing the same rust and tarnish as Kael’s, and hurled it at Kael’s target. It didn’t hit home in Middle Red, but it did manage to brush the outer rim of the centre white circle. The archer folded his arms, a lopsided grin plastered over his face.
Kael scrutinised the implanted dagger. “Shot,” he conceded, “But not Own material.”
“I suppose yer reckoning is that ye’ll get there yerself?”
Kael laughed openly. “Aeia, no! I wouldn’t join if they begged me to!”
Aen looked hurt.
Kael shook his head and walked over to slap the other boy on the shoulder. “It’s my brother’s hrai-dani in five days. We need to make up the numbers.”
Kelon and Aen exchanged glances, silently debating the invitation.
“Third district from the palace,” Kael informed them. “Don’t worry, me and me brother and sister are the ones who give it that reputation,” he added at their worried glances.
Finally Aen nodded, and Kelon followed suit. “Follow the sounds of raucous celebration then?”
Kael grinned. “That’s about it. See ye both there, then!”
On the eve of Ynuk’s twentieth birthday—his hrai-dani—Kael’s mother, along with at least half the other women in the district, set about making the feast that would take them through until midnight.
The twentieth birthday was always a big celebration for Raykinians. It marked the day when a boy would be recognised as a man, and a girl as a woman. For the boys, it meant that the next full moon would see them married.
Seeing Ynuk with his arm around the shoulders of his wife-to-be made Kael realise he had only two and a half years until he was in the same position. Training as he did with forty-nine other boys, it didn’t make for the most ideal environment to meet members of the opposite gender. He really only knew a handful of the healers, and even then, Ronanen was the only one he knew on a first name basis. He hardly knew her well enough to ask for her to be his wife, at any rate.
He nodded resolutely as he carved up yet another eggplant. Over the next two years, that would have to change.
Through the night, the beer flowed from the four casks donated by the Charging Nira. It wasn’t as good as Kael and his brother and sister were used to, but considering it was free, Kael was more than happy.
The moon rose higher in the night sky, until it finally began to make its decent, indicating that Ynuk was now officially twenty.
In the absence of their father, the task fell upon Kael to make a speech about his older brother, something he had been dreading at least since Spring. He’d never much been one for public appearances. Throwing his dagger at the target in a pub and inevitably winning was one thing, but drawing attention to himself for something he wasn’t good at was another entirely. He had to make it good though; Ynuk would be the one to speak at Kael’s own hrai-dani in two years’ time.
It didn’t help that he was quite drunk when he climbed the ladder to the roof of their house, another tankard held not-so-firmly in his left hand.
“Tonight,” he began, “we celebrate the hrai-dani of me brother, Ynuk.” He paused, as much waiting for the alcohol-induced cheering to subside as he was trying to think where to start. “Without Papa, he’s the one who taught me and Elara how to use a dagger and our fists better, the one who taught us how to pick a pocket without getting caught too often, the one who taught us all those life lessons we wouldn’t know if he hadn’t been there.”
He frowned, wondering vaguely how long a hrai-dani speech was supposed to be. He now wished he’d actually listened to the fathers at all those hrai-danis he’d been to in the past for some source of inspiration.
“I guess I could say something about how he was also the one to dunk us both in the river, or nick off when things went pear-shaped in the northern districts, but he’s going to be saying stuff at my hrai-dani, so I won’t.” He grinned at the laughter that filtered through the crowd, which again probably wouldn’t have been present if there was no beer.
“I have no idea how long these things are supposed to be, but I guess that’s long enough.” He lifted his nearly-full tankard to the nearly-full moon in a toast. “Ynuk!”
“Ynuk!” the contingent echoed, raising their own tankards, most of which had been filled during the speech, then they all drained the tankards and crashed them together with another cheer.
Kael grinned and slid unsteadily back down the ladder. He was certain he’d heard better hrai-dani speeches before, but then, those men had probably all rehearsed theirs beforehand anyway. They were generally well-known for being somewhat marred by alcohol, not that Kael felt he could have done much better without a beer glass in his hand.
He was greeted by several slaps on the back when he reached the bottom of the ladder, from his family as well as anyone else who happened to be nearby.
Ynuk was grinning mischievously as he rested his hand on Kael’s shoulder.
“Ye realises, of course, that this was your only opportunity, right?”
Kael frowned, then slapped a his palm against his forehead. Apparently his own hrai-dani was going to be something to beware of. At least, come the morning, he wouldn’t remember any of it.
Chapter~ 1682
Total~ 23 757
Time~ 2hrs, 4mins
Total~ 32hrs, 14mins
no subject
Date: 2004-11-22 08:10 am (UTC)