Garrett

In one of the many roads across the northeastern borders of the Moniyan Empire, a chain of supply wagons was travelling across harsh rocky terrains on its way to its destination. It was a dangerous remote location, all the riders knew, but the pay was significantly higher for each delivery. All the riders knew this as well.

Supply wagons became a valuable necessity for those from far away. Although there were some farmlands and trees within the area, there are times when resources become scarce, and there are some items that can only be acquired from far lands.

Garrett was inside one of the covered wagons on the front end of the chain. He had been travelling for days, and had spent every waking moment in anticipation of this day.

The caravan had stopped last on the city of Ravelt, the nearest populated area, and stayed there for a night before continuing their journey. It had already been hours since he last saw a building. For many days, they had followed the Imperial Road, but now the caravan followed a more clandestine path, less visible and less dangerous.

The chain moved forth as it skirted the edge of the Dark Forest, with tall and ancient trees looming over them like foreboding mountains. Garrett was hidden amongst some of the fruits, where the smell of citrus and lime wafted about the small quarters. There were gaps in the wooden walls of the wagon, small enough to conceal what's inside but wide enough for him to peek through. He could have sworn he saw something flitter across the shadows in the deeper parts of the woods, but he remained silent as he muttered a small prayer.

It was late in the afternoon, yet the Dark Forest managed to remain dark as ever. Garrett thought the name was aptly given. There were occasional sunbeams that penetrated the dim foliage, illuminating the worn path of the caravan through the spaces in between the leaves. Through the same way, Garrett saw the spires of the Black Keep in the distance standing tall like swords piercing through the sky.

In less than half an hour, the caravan would have arrived at the Monastery grounds, but whether they would arrive in one piece was another story entirely.

The men outside were garbed in black, and they were the ones who told him to hide. In the lands between Ravelt and the Monastery, there were many dangers that awaited unsuspecting travelers. The wagons had already passed by a couple of bobcats, and a few other wild animals. There were the occasional thieves that roamed the lands as well, but as of yet, none of the cutthroat bandits made an appearance. More than this, every once in a while, lifeless bodies would be found in several locations, broken and dried in various positions. The travelling party ignored all these and continued to press forward amidst the dangerous lands they were in.

Garrett had heard rumors that demons occasionally visited the area, and that very few had ever lived to tell tales of it. "Those men are crazy," said one of the travelling peddlers at one point. "It ain't true. My brother swore he saw one of 'em flying about the forest a fortnight ago," replied another. These men argued about these things on numerous occasions, but Garrett never really knew who to believe. The conversation once ended when the travelling peddler said, "What would demons be doing this far north?" and they never argued about it again. Everybody knew that the demons resided far south of the Empire, where most of the wars happen. The north was always safer. From demons, at the very least.

Surely enough, the caravan did make it to the Monastery in one piece.

The caravan entered the Radiant Gate and made its way past the sentries that guarded the area after a short exchange of words. The Gate was emblazoned with the complicated golden sigil of the Order, a shield abaft a sword piercing an eye that peeked behind a crescent moon above an open book wedged between horns. The Gate was huge and tall, like the bright walls that lined the perimeter of the Monastery. There were men patrolling the area and the walls alike.

Upon arrival, a man in black garments greeted the peddlers and his companions. He had hair as dark as a raven, and a nose that bent downwards. He was hunched slightly, and looked like he had seen better days.

Seeing that there was nothing more to protect, the men in black garbs got off the wagons and proceeded to help in transporting the supplies inside the Black Keep. The peddlers proceeded to sell their goods to the small crowd that gathered. The man with the raven hair just stood there, waiting impatiently.

"You can step out now, child," said the man. "I can hear you quivering."

After a few brief moments, one of the covers that hid the contents of one of the wagons parted, and a child stepped out behind boxes of fruits. He was a scrawny young boy, no more than ten years old, with brown hair that glistened under the sinking afternoon sun. He carried a small sack by his shoulder.

The man in black inspected the young boy, and merely said, "Come here, boy."

Garrett walked slowly and stood beside the man as they observed the rest of the caravan unfolding before them, with men transporting goods and children eyeing the trinkets held by the peddlers. The scene continued on for quite some time before the last caravan finally stopped before them. Garrett had never seen what was inside it before, but he knew it was something special.

The last wagon had a richer touch to it compared to the others, and while it was still of wooden make, it was obvious that it was a stronger, sturdier and more expensive kind of wood. It was built more like a carriage, and it almost glowed when the sun sent sunbeams to its direction, but its cream-colored exterior exuded a mysterious aura that almost veiled its presence.

The boy stared at it; his mind was awash with curiosity. The man with the raven hair took a step forward before doing a near-imperceptible bow.

Then, one of the men that escorted the caravan on the way to the Monastery approached the wagon and opened its doors. A small girl, with hair the color of crimson, stepped out and did a strained curtsy to the man. It looked forced and ill-practiced, as if the girl had rarely ever done it before. She looked meek and silent as she took up the raven-haired man before her.

The man nodded in acknowledgement, and said, "Follow me, both of you." Then he turned his back and began walking towards the Black Keep.

The little boy and the little girl remained silent and asked no questions as they followed the man farther into the Monastery. The entire Monastery of Light was huge, covering almost as much ground as a small town. There were various buildings and sections that served specific purposes, such as the Church of Light on the west wing, or the Black Keep that housed all the Imperial Men. All of these were under the employ of the Empire, and serve for the purposes of the Monastery.

As they walked, the man explained some of these things to the boy and the girl. Garrett listened with intent, as he brimmed with excitement and fascination for being in such a place. The little girl remained silent, showing nothing on her face.

When they reached a hallway that led both ways, the man turned towards them and stopped. "Welcome to the Monastery of Light," he said with open arms and a smile that was almost warm. "I almost forgot to welcome ya whelps. I'm afraid old age doesn't help," he joked and gave a short laugh. Then he whistled and gestured for a teenage boy dressed in gray who was previously tending the fire in the middle of the great hall. "Take the girl and bring her to her quarters."

The teenage boy promptly came forward and bowed to the man. "Yes, sir," he said, then he held his hand towards the little girl. "Come, little bird. I'll show you the way." The girl ignored the outstretched hand, but followed the boy nonetheless as they walked away from the man in black.

Garrett watched as the little girl in her pretty little dress trudged heavily across the stone floor, as if dreading every step. They had never spoken before, and Garrett thought that they likely never will. Still, he was pleased; he was not really fond of the company of girls, especially the silent ones. The man resumed walking towards another direction, heading for the stairwells.

Eventually the man in black said, "Curious young lad, you're well-aware that this is a training ground for demonslayers, yes?"

The boy nodded excitedly.

The man stopped and looked at the boy coldly. "Answer me when I ask you questions, boy. Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed, the boy replied, "Yes, sir."

"Now, I understand that you have been orphaned by the war, so treat the Monastery as your… new home." The man continued walking as if nothing happened, and the boy followed. "You were hidden in a supply wagon so as to protect you, as per the instructions of the Captain of the Order," the man continued, enunciating the last word with thinly-veiled disdain.

"Yes, sir. I understand," the boy replied meekly.

The man and the boy walked across the Monastery and climbed numerous steps. After a few more minutes of this, they arrived at the rooms that housed all the other orphans. They were on the fifth floor. The rooms had numbers placed on top of each door. The even numbers were on the right, while the odds ones were on the left.

The man turned towards the boy. "You may have come from a special lineage of family, but know this, boy. In the Monastery of Light, all orphans are equal."

"Yes, sir," the boy repeated. By now, he had gotten used to saying the same two words.

The man then pointed to one of the rooms on the left, towards a door with the numbers 515 written on top. "We call the rooms for orphans the Bird's Nest. You will have a roommate here, ask him all your other questions." The man glanced towards a clock on one end of the long hallway. "I should take my leave. Remember to follow the schedules, boy."

"Yes, sir." It came next, like an automated reply from one of those machines from Eruditio.

As he walked, the man stopped in his tracks as if he remembered something. He faced the boy once more. "Tomorrow, make sure to never wear those clothes again. Wear the ones provided on your closet. Then, meet me at my chambers in the morning, and no time later."

Without thinking, the boy replied the same two words mechanically. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Satisfied, the man walked away briskly, as if in a hurry. The boy looked at the clock, and saw that the short hand was pointed southeast. It was almost nighttime.

He knocked on the door with his knuckles thrice. No response came. For a few moments, nothing happened. Deciding to knock once more, he positioned his hands on the door before it opened to reveal another boy. He was dressed in gray, and looked like he had awoken from a long nap. Compared to the newcomer, this one appeared to be slightly taller and older than him, maybe by a few months or a year, at most. "What do you want?" said the boy, sounding irritated.

Garrett replied, "The man said I was supposed to live here now."

"Which man?"

"The one with the crooked nose."

The boy inside the room blinked. "The Raven?"

"The who?"

The boy from inside the room sighed in reply. "So, you're the new guy?" he asked, as if disappointed. "Whatever, come in."

Garrett went inside and outstretched his hand. "My name is Garrett. How about yours?"

The other boy went back to his bed. "I didn't ask," said the boy, and those were all the words that left his mouth before he went back to sleep. As if to establish that he didn't care enough, he laid on his side facing the concrete wall away from Garrett.

Garrett wasn't sure what to make of his new roommate. "Well, I don't care about you either," he replied, but it didn't really matter as the other boy was already fast asleep. He took this opportunity to look around.

It was an averagely-sized room, big enough for one person, but small for two. There was a closet, a table, a chair and a bunker bed, all of simple wooden make. He opened the closet, and found the same dreary clothes every other boy his age wore in the Monastery, as he saw during his trek from the grounds up to the fifth floor. The same gray rags his roommate wore, too, who slept on the bottom of the bunker bed. 'Bland,' he thought.

There was a window that overlooked the view of the courtyard below. He approached it, and saw some children and teenagers playing and practicing. He sighed as he thought of home. It had been some time since he had played with his friends from his hometown, and he missed them dearly. His best friend was miles away from him, probably stealing some bread from the big-bellied baker again, like how they used to.

Garrett climbed atop the bunker bed, and sat with his legs dangling down. His bed was perpendicular to the window, so he could not see anything outside from his vantage point.

Then, he carefully emptied his haversack and spilled all its contents on his bed. Amongst its contents were a few trinkets, a long piece of string, some tools, and a small tome with frayed edges. There was also a small dagger with a golden hilt and a golden sheath to match with it. Adorning the sheath was a painstakingly engraved sigil of the Moniyan Empire. His mother gave him that dagger on his tenth birthday, back when she was still alive. Before he lost her. These were the only things that Garrett owned, apart from the clothes he wore on his back.

Tomorrow, he would lose those clothes too.

He had lost so much from the war. During its aftermath, when he learned about what happened, he vowed that he would become a demonslayer to avenge his family. A few days later, he received a letter from the Monastery, and quickly travelled all the way to the northeastern border, which took nearly a half a month's time. He was away from the city he once called home, but he thought that it mattered little to him now.

He placed all his possessions back on his small haversack, and went to sleep with his clothes on.