part 1

Even though it was spring already and the sun shown brightly in the sky, a chill wind blew down from the mountains in the south and patches of snow still lingered on the ground. Ares stretched languidly as he walked back from doing his morning chores to the small cottage he shared with his grandfather, nestled beneath one of the giant trees that grew in the area. It was at least 20 feet up before the first branch appeared and it would take 5 of him to circle his arms around the trunk. 

Ares stiffened and whirled as his grandfather who had set unnoticed in the shadows barked, “Stalking the Blight, third form!” Ares immediately drew his sword from across his back in fell into form, flowing easily through the moves that had been drilled into him since childhood.

He was used to this. His grandfather often ran him through various forms at odd times during the day without notice and each one came to Ares effortlessly now. Today was different though. Usually he only did one or two forms and then went back to whatever he was doing. However this time his grandfather named every form Ares knew, one after another.

Almost an hour had passed when Ares finally sheathed his sword and turned to look at his grandfather. The Oldman was still robust, with biceps bigger than Ares’ thighs. He sat in special chair that had been made for him that had double footed crutches attached to it. He had lost both his legs in the dragon wars and now ‘walked’ using his powerful arms to propel his chair.

His grandfather nodded in approval as Ares approached him and spoke, his voice rough with age “Boy…You’ve learned everything I have to teach. Now it’s time you earn the right to be a Knight of the Red Order. In the old days we had tests, tournaments and quests to determine your worthiness but they days are over.” Ares could see the sadness and pain wash over his grandfathers face. The entire order of the Crimson Knights had been wiped out in the final battle of the dragon wars, the same battle that cost his grandfather his legs. They had defeated the leader and routed the enemy but at a terrible cost. Ares only knew of them through stories but he had been hearing them for so long it almost felt as if he had lived through it.

His grandfather continued. “ You must now journey into the world to prove you have the right to be a knight.” He paused for a moment. ”Do not return until have lost in a Duel.”

Ares blinked. “Um grandfather….don’t you mean won a duel?”

“Of course not boy! You think I’m senile already? If you just had to win a duel you’d be back in a week! The point is to adventure. To prove yourself. It wouldn’t hurt if you slew any blighted creatures you came across either. I wonder how the Kingdoms of Dion have fared these past 15 years without any Daemon hunters to rely on?” His last words were softer as he slipped into musing. Maybe he was going senile after all.

Ares was not entirely surprised at this turn of events since his grandfather often sent him off into the mountains or making him journey with giant tribes, without warning. He had however always traveled south into the deeper wilderness, never north into civilization. There was a small village a few hours walk from here that consisted of every other human besides his grandfather that Ares had ever met.

“When do I leave?” Ares asked, thinking quickly about everything he would need for the journey. It seemed like it would take weeks, maybe months for him to get to the Kingdoms of Dion and find someone worth dueling. He imagined that Ranthanon must be teeming with knights, but would they want to duel with an apprentice of a knighthood that had been destroyed?

“Whenever old Faral shows up. I asked him to take you to the nearest town and get you a map. Can’t have you wandering around clueless. He’ll also teach about how things in a town work. It’s been 15 years since I’ve been to town, not even sure I remember.” 

When old Faral shows up? It’s true the old trader usually shows up for the first time in the spring, but that could be tomorrow or in a month. There was no way of knowing. 

“He’ll be back in a few hours” His grandfather interrupted his musings. “He was here earlier when you were out. He went to visit that old Hermit Ivas. Anyway, go look in your room boy.

Ares’ “room” was actually just the top bunk of the two beds in the corner of their small cottage. One the bed was a rolled up blanket. When he unrolled the blanket his eyes widened in surprise and small gasp of excitement escaped his lips. First pulled up a bundle of red glossy leather and shook it out, holding it up to admire. The standard garb of the Crimson knights was the blood red long coat he now held in his hands. He wondered how his grandfather had kept it hidden from him all this time.

The next item, even more important than the coat, was a sword in a sheath of the same color. The sword was 3 feet long and had a hilt and handle of ebony black, wrapped in red leather.He inched the blade out of the sheath a little and saw that it too was the same black, as if the entire sword had been made from a single piece of obsidian.

It was just two items but their worth was immeasurable, the two things that marked a true Crimson knight of the highest order. He clutched both in his arms and walked slowly back out to his grandfather, his heart hammering in pride and confusion.

“But..but grandfather,” He stammered. “ These are for a …a full knight, I’m just a squire..”

His grandfather waved his hand dismissively. “Besides me boy, you are the only Crimson Knight left and I’m not going anywhere.” He motioned for Ares to come to him and took the sword from him.

“Put it on.” He commanded. “ You are a knight now…first Order, but a knight all the same.”

Ares slowly pulled the blood red coat on. It was slightly too big for him, hanging down to his ankles and the sleeves covering his hands. He noticed that unlike he first thought, it was not made of leather put a slick, almost metallic feeling material.

“Eh” His grandfather grunted, looking him up and down. “You’ll grow into it. For now roll those sleeves up. Don’t want you looking like you stole you fathers clothes.” Afterwards, his grandfather handed the sword back to him and waited for him to fasten it across his back.

“That is the Black Blade” He started gruffly, some emotion Ares couldn’t discern creeping into his voice. “It is the blade of the 5^th Order of Crimson Knights. It was made to kill daemons, the tainted creatures of chaos…if you ever see the ruins on the blade glowing you will know you are in the presence of a daemon or someone so blighted from chaos that it makes no difference.” Ares watched his grandfather clench his fists, old anger at the destruction of the crimson knights getting the best of him.

His grandfather slowly let out a breath and calmed himself, then suddenly tossed Ares a sword. “Come boy, you have until Faral gets back to prove yourself. Try to get at least one hit in today!” His grandfather lifted his own blade and pointed it at Ares. Ares sighed and gripped his sword, getting ready to attack. Maybe his new coat and title of knight would allow him to finally score a point against his grandfather. 

When the old trader Faral finally arrived a few hours later, Ares stood panting and dripping sweat, his sword held loosely as he glared at his grandfather. His grandfather still sat in the same place, not even a drop of sweat on him. The ground around them had been swept clean of snow, leaves and other loose debris by the air pressure from their attacks, so when Faral arrived it looked as if they had been dueling in a barren circle surrounded by snow banks

Faral trumped up slowly in his wagon, pulled by 2 mules that looked as old as him. “By the gods, I could hear you two from an hour back! I was worried the old giants of legend were fighting up here…” He barked a laugh at his own comment as he called out to them, his wagon clamoring to a stop near his grandfather, the mules plowing easily through the snow banks.

“Ho Taras! Ares! Fine weather for traveling today.” Faral called out again as he stopped next to them. Then he grinned widely at Ares. “You ready for an adventure Lad?” Ares thought he was probably more excited than he was.

His grandfather asked about the old hermit and the nearby village and Ares let his mind wandered as the two old men chatted. He knew he should be more excited about the prospect of going out to see the world but it had all come so suddenly he had barely had time to think about it. Although his grandfather had said nothing about it, Ares was sure he was expected to rebuild the entire Crimson Order, find the villains who had set them all up, avenge his parents and apparently, lose in a duel.

Soon enough his grandfather’s gravely voice broke him out of his reveries, telling him to go and pack his things. “You’re wasting daylight boy. You want Faral to have to sleep in his wagon when there’s a good bed he could be sleeping in down in the village?” Ares hurried back inside to collect his meager belongings. His new blanket that his coat and sword had been wrapped in; His old sword; 3 pairs of clothes; an old journal that his grandfather had made him learn to write and read in…and that was it.

He slung the old sword across his back next to the black blade and then wrapped everything else up in his blanket. It compacted into a rather small bundle that he shoved into a bag and slung it over his shoulder. He walked back out slowly, silently saying goodbye to everything he had ever known.

“This is a quest boy.” His grandfather spoke as he came up next to him and Faral. “You are knight now. Don’t come back until you’ve lost a duel with another knight. If you dishonor us, don’t come back at all.” He growled that last ominously, although Ares was not exactly sure how he would dishonor them. His grandfather had never talked much about honor, or really anything except fighting, daemon hunting and the war.

Ares bowed to his grandfather and then climbed up onto the wagon next to old Faral. “Say goodbye to Baruvius and Galadur for me if you see them. “ He called out to his grandfather after Faral had said his goodbyes and the wagon began to move, turning slowly and setting off back down the only path that led up their cottage. Ares was a bit sad about not getting to see the two giants before leaving. He had spent months with them when younger. Since his grandfather could not move much it had fallen to the two giants to teach Ares about surviving in the mountains and forests, hunting, and of course they had trained him in combat as well.

As the wagon moved slowly down the path Ares leaned back a little and looked up at the trees, daydreaming about what adventures he might have. His excitement was beginning to mount as he actually began his journey. He did not see his grandfather watching them as they passed out of sight and didn’t think to wonder if the old knight would have any difficulties surviving on his own.

“This is really slow…” He muttered, as the wagon carried him off to adventure at the pace of two old mules.