Post by Cyrus Knight on May 23, 2006 18:59:19 GMT -5
Just a sneek peak. I'm not done with it, only a little ways. But as you can see look at the title. The king is getting married!
5
The Wedding
The sun had just started to daze over the hilly landscape of Guardia shining its magnificence on the castle and slowly flooding through every village house waking up the tired people as they knew that the new day had finally come. Farmers were already out and about on their lands with herds of animals letting them catch a drink in a small pond just a little west from the sea. Almost instantly the streets were filled with horses galloping people to and fro and children playing with each other has they went off to school. The markets were getting unusually busy as people started buying their needs to prepare for their everyday life. The air was full of happiness and chatter of the people soon filled the air as it wisped into other ears. Indeed it was a grand morning for Guardia and everyone was happy as they did their daily activities.
The sun had reached the room Cyrus was in but was stopped by red velvet curtains cutting off the sunlight and telling it to retreat. Small ounces of light managed to escape through the cracks of the curtains and shone its way though the room.
Cyrus was still asleep. He was overwhelmed with how a bed of this magnitude could keep him asleep for this long. It was either this reason or Cyrus was just used to sleeping in that small imprisonment while sleeping in his cramped cage just waiting to be yelled at by the brutal Mystics who waited to see his face every morning so they could get right to the horrible tortures they put him through. For once Cyrus didn’t think of the Mystics. He was in a great sleep but his sleep was sonly disturbed as a castle made waked into the room.
Her plump figure gave her a funny way of waking as she waddled over to the curtains pulling them open instantly. The light filled the room and stretched out over Cyrus. He was rapped in the silk blankets letting the sun warm his face till soon he released that he was still tired and so comfy. He put the feather pillow on which his head lay on over his head trying to repel the light.
“Oh c’mon Cyrus. You’ve had plenty of time to sleep and right now I think it’s time to get up.” The maid said as she grabbed a hold of Cyrus’s blankets and ripping them off him. Cyrus didn’t have a shirt on or trousers and was exposed to the warmth of the sunlight but at the same time the coolness of the castle. He jerked his legs up as soon as she had stolen his blankets begging for her to give them back.
“Honestly Cyrus, you’re one of the bravest people I have ever known. But you such a baby.” The maid teased as she folded the blankets up.
“All I want are my blankets back!” Cyrus moaned as he took the pillow off his head and stood up.
“Well I’m sorry dear but it’s time to get up. The King and Glenn request for your presence.” The maid said as she began to make her way out of the room. The door closed behind the plump maid and she made her way down the castle stairs. The stairs were a spiral staircase that were lined with red velvet that navigated it’s way down the stairs and stopped short of the royal chamber where which the King’s throne was held.
Cyrus whirled his legs out of his bed and sat them on the cold coble stone floor. He got up and looked around the room to realize to his amazement that all of his belongings from his original house now filled this room with great and troublesome memories. He never realized this at first when he lay down to sleep but it was probably the fact because he was so tired and it was very dark in the room the night before.
Over to the right in a small corner was Cyrus’s small couch. Next to the couch was a table that he recognized as his night stand. And over to his left corner was the small wooden dinner table with small beaten up wooden chairs. He walked over to the couch in small strides while whipping the sleep from his eyes and plopped down in the couch. Dust sprang up and attacked his nose and he sneezed once. Soon enough it had vanished and Cyrus looked over to the small table and seen medals and a picture of Tocka. He leaned over and picked up the picture while eyeing the medals. He then had a sudden flash back.
He was sitting on the couch with Tocka while he held his medals in his hand from the table.
“Cyrus, I won these for being the Jouster in Guardia and in other countries!” He exclaimed in a rather cocky way.
“Really?” Cyrus said with a bit of sarcasm to his voice.
“You don’t believe me? Ha, then I should teach you. I once won a Jousting tournament with nearly over fifty men. It was a great tournament and slaughtered every one of them!” Tocka exaggerated shortly.
“You killed them?” Cyrus asked suddenly.
“Of course not! Jousting isn’t about killing. Besides that isn’t the Guardia Knight way. But I didn’t win these medals because I was the best. I won these because I was smart. Every man who went against me spat at me as if I were nothing and were sure they were going to beat me. But I proved them wrong and I made them pay. They were to over confident and I think that they know that now. If you want to win something and be the best, don’t get cocky! Don’t be so confident and make stupid decisions. Trust me on this one Cyrus, you too could become a great Knight, Jouster, Joker, or Princess.” Tocka joked a bit catching a small grin from Cyrus.
“But remember, you have to try and work hard. I may not be your father Cyrus and I’m sure he loved you a lot, but I care for you too. I would hate to see anything bad happen to you.” Tocka assured Cyrus.
Cyrus gazed at him for a small time and hugged Tocka with firm hands. Tocka did the same. Soon the memory vanished and Cyrus was stranded in the in the bleak castle room again. Cyrus had always been very close to Tocka and had loved him a lot but, him not being there seemed kind of empty. He stood up and started to walk to his clothes which were neatly folded next to his bed. He picked them up and unfolded them to reveal many rips and scrapes. They were his old clothes from the horrible Mystic onslaught. Just over his shoulder he heard a firm bang on the door. He sat the shirt down gently and walked over to the door and opened it to reveal a long seen face. Lydion!
“Lydion!” Cyrus expressed gladly. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“Yes, it has been some time. May I come in Cyrus?” Lydion asked with a large chest in his arms. The chest looked ancient and was covered with dust. The wood was cracked, scuffed and beat up.
“Of course! I’m sorry I’m not dressed but I don’t have any descent clothes.” Cyrus said still exposed to the world.
“Well that’s what I’m here for. This chest belonged to Tocka,” Lydion said as he walked in setting the ancient chest down on Cyrus’s bed then continuing, “I think that he would’ve wanted you to have these.”
He sat down on the bed and opened the scuffled chest. Inside the chest revealed armor. It was beautiful armor that was covered in black. Around on top of the black was purple outlining that revealed different patterns like a curly wave. Occasional gold waves stretched off of the purple to reveal different outlines.
“You know he wore this armor all the time, but it’s not very comfortable without this.” Lydion pulled out a small skinny purple tunic that had small bands around the ends of the arms and neck. At the bottom of the chest were scuffed up hunting boots and dark leather leggings. They too looked as old as the chest.
“This is all of Tocka’s?” Cyrus asked while slipping on the leather leggings followed by the purple tunic Lydion gave him.
“Yes, and there’s another surprise waiting for you downstairs in the Royal Chamber.” Lydion finished.
Cyrus stood there in an awkward silence waiting for something to happen. Soon enough Lydion stood up off the bed and parted farewell to Cyrus and left the room shutting the door behind him.
He sat quietly, his own thoughts hazy and wistful as the setting in which he paused, giving way for one brief moment to the sinking despair that seized him when he thought of how much he desperately and dreadfully lost. He had never felt this alone before, even in the dark emtiness of the Mystic enslavement when he had been taken captive far from home. Something deep within him hinted with dread persistence that he would never have back what he had so terribly lost, that he would never see his friends, his old home, and his old life. Somewhere in the days behind, he had lost it all. He shook his head, the unwanted tears building on the edge of his lids as the dampness closed in about him and the chill of the morning air setting inside the bedroom. He put his arm up to his face trying to sway back the tears that flooded his vision.
Something wasn’t right, those tears of sorrow were whipped away and still they pored out of his face. These weren’t tears of sadness and sorrow, but tears of hatred and darkness. Flashbacks going back to the Mystic onslaught of them beating him constantly day and night started to raise his anger. His hand balled into a fist so tight that it looked as almost they were going to tear out of their sockets. He breathed deeply and his face began to grin madly. He punched the chest as hard as he could with extra power of hatred and anger leaving a remarkably big dent in the side of it.
“Why did everybody have to die!?” Cyrus screamed in frustration the darkness overwhelming as it did inside the small cage at the Mystic camp. “Why did they torture me so bad?” Cyrus’s voice had deeply smoothened and he was now crying tears of sadness again. His darkness was gone; he found himself in a wimpy sober of sorrow.
Minutes later he stopped crying and dressed himself in Tocka’s old clothing which Lydion brought. Lydion had forgotten something in the bottom of the chest that Cyrus noticed when he walked by it at the last second. Tocka’s cape. This cape was given to Tocka by the king. Cyrus picked it up and looked at it. It was purple and was finished with fine black outlining of a bird almost. Cyrus clipped it onto his armor as it draped over his shoulders and back just nearly hitting the floor. Cyrus was unquestionably mature enough to wear this armor. He eye the room for a few seconds and left the room heading down a flight of stairs that occasionally had a small platform leading into another room east of him. Those rooms were used for storage only and usually consisted of wine barrels, tables, chairs, and sometimes weapons. After the platform the stairs continued heading down with still more stops, it seemed as almost Cyrus had was at the very top of the castle.
A few minutes past and Cyrus finally reached the bottom his legs already sore from the walk and the armor weighing him down. He was in the main chamber and walked down a hallway a little ways to reveal the king sitting at his throne with a few peasants by his side. He was talking to them and it seemed as if they were making an agreement. Cyrus walked up with his heavy armor clanking with each step he took and stood in a little distance from the king. He was able to hear what they were saying.
“Please, your majesty, we beg of you. If those bandits don’t stop stealing our supplies our farm is going to be taken away. We will have no more money.” There was a rather scrawny peasant dressed in old farm clothes that were ripped and scraped and an older looking woman who had a rather plump shape. She to was wearing beat up farm clothes. They were in desperate need of money.
“I’ll tell you what, I will send a few knights back home with you and they will guard your farm for only two days. If those bandits show up then they will be able to take them out. If not though, I’m sorry but we will have to bring them back.” The king said in calm reassuring voice.
The two peasants greeted the king farewell and headed out of the chamber. The king stood up out of his royal throne and noticed Cyrus standing in the middle of the room eyeing the glorious view.
“Ah, Cyrus. Come here my boy...” The king motioned Cyrus to come over to him. “I’ve been meaning to meet with you. First of all, how are you? Did you get a good sleep?” The king asked.
“Fine, it was good sleeping in a nice bed for once.” Cyrus replied still a little tired.
“Well that’s good. Now onto more important matters and I’m sorry that I’m rushing into matters so suddenly but, I need to know what you know about the Mystics and there forces.” The king said walking over to the throne.
“I’m sorry to advise you but the most I ever heard of was that the Mystics were planning a full scale raid onto Porre but it seems that something went wrong and it was never carried out. I really know nothing of the war and its matters.” Cyrus explained thoroughly.
“I understand. If don’t recall Glenn said he wanted to meet with you.” The king said.
Cyrus parted from the Royal Chamber heading to where Glenn was. He was in the knight’s chambers where all the war meetings happen, where the square table is located, where training is held, and just a place for the knights to take a break. He headed down a hallway west of the Royal Chamber and headed down a small flight of stairs. Upon entering he had seen what Guardia had been up to.
There were more knights then ever before. He walked a little ways in and passed a small room fill with bunks and beds. He steadily walked by more rooms filled with bunks and beds eyeing the knights in them as they talked to one another. He entered another big room with a square table to the left of him.
“It’s been a while hasn’t it Cyrus?” A familiar voice sounded.
He turned around to reveal a friendly face that he hadn’t seen all day.
“Hey Glenn,” He greeted still amused with how Guardia had changed so much since he had been gone, “This place has changed a lot. I remember that all the training used to go on here.”
“It’s now just a medical room, and the quarters for the Square Table.” Glenn said.
“Where is all of Guardia’s training and who are all of those knights in all of those rooms.” Cyrus asked a little confused.
“This might sound a little strange to you but I will explain. We have massively extended the Castle as you can see. We added more rooms to keep all the knights here. All of these knights come from Durina, the flower kingdom. They have spared many troops to help us with the war for trade.” Glenn explained.
“What do we trade?” Cyrus asked, yet another question coming from his joggled mind.
“Weapons, food, and we built them a castle.” Glenn replied.
All of this in such a small amount of time. Cyrus thought, as he watched nurses pass his side into a busy crowd of knights. There had to be at least sixty knights in that room when he noticed an open door to the very right leading to the outside. He walked over to the door and peered outside.
“Wow…” Cyrus stood in pure amazement upon seeing what he was.
“Amazing isn’t it. They spared a lot of knights but not all of them are Durinian, some of them are Guardia’s too.” Glenn said walking up beside Cyrus also peering through the open door. Thousands of Durinian and Guardian knights stood outside. To the right of them was a training area strictly for archery which was heavily occupied with knights shooting at small targets with Mystic faces glued on them, to the left of them was jousting and swordplay training which consisted of many knights fighting with wooden swords. North of them were stables full of horses and war machinery such as catapults and other big weaponry. All of this training in such a huge place.
They made their way out to the large courtyard filled with men and knights ; Glenn explained thoroughly about what has happened over the past few years Cyrus had been gone like going into detail about how Guardia got helped to from a kingdom like Durina. He also explained new laws that never really applied to Cyrus, just for small time farm owners and alcoholics.
They made their way around the whole courtyard occasionally taking to some knights about random conversations that reached the years of the two. They found their way at the swordplay and jousting area. Many men stood watch as there glistering eyes were fixed among two knights fighting in a small ring. The ring was just a big circle in the ground but that was all they needed for what was going on. The two men had wooden swords and moved in a crouched position circling each other.
“Get on with it already!” A sudden voice shouted next to Cyrus.
At an instant the voice shouted one of the men lifted his head to see who shouted but to his surprise he was met with a painful blow to the head by the wooden sword the other man had held.
“You Durinains, never take your eye off an enemy.” The man spat.
“Hey Cyrus, give it shot.” Glenn encouraged.
Cyrus thought for a while and turned to Glenn, “No, I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Oh c’mon! Their just wood, it could never kill anyone.” Glenn assured.
5
The Wedding
The sun had just started to daze over the hilly landscape of Guardia shining its magnificence on the castle and slowly flooding through every village house waking up the tired people as they knew that the new day had finally come. Farmers were already out and about on their lands with herds of animals letting them catch a drink in a small pond just a little west from the sea. Almost instantly the streets were filled with horses galloping people to and fro and children playing with each other has they went off to school. The markets were getting unusually busy as people started buying their needs to prepare for their everyday life. The air was full of happiness and chatter of the people soon filled the air as it wisped into other ears. Indeed it was a grand morning for Guardia and everyone was happy as they did their daily activities.
The sun had reached the room Cyrus was in but was stopped by red velvet curtains cutting off the sunlight and telling it to retreat. Small ounces of light managed to escape through the cracks of the curtains and shone its way though the room.
Cyrus was still asleep. He was overwhelmed with how a bed of this magnitude could keep him asleep for this long. It was either this reason or Cyrus was just used to sleeping in that small imprisonment while sleeping in his cramped cage just waiting to be yelled at by the brutal Mystics who waited to see his face every morning so they could get right to the horrible tortures they put him through. For once Cyrus didn’t think of the Mystics. He was in a great sleep but his sleep was sonly disturbed as a castle made waked into the room.
Her plump figure gave her a funny way of waking as she waddled over to the curtains pulling them open instantly. The light filled the room and stretched out over Cyrus. He was rapped in the silk blankets letting the sun warm his face till soon he released that he was still tired and so comfy. He put the feather pillow on which his head lay on over his head trying to repel the light.
“Oh c’mon Cyrus. You’ve had plenty of time to sleep and right now I think it’s time to get up.” The maid said as she grabbed a hold of Cyrus’s blankets and ripping them off him. Cyrus didn’t have a shirt on or trousers and was exposed to the warmth of the sunlight but at the same time the coolness of the castle. He jerked his legs up as soon as she had stolen his blankets begging for her to give them back.
“Honestly Cyrus, you’re one of the bravest people I have ever known. But you such a baby.” The maid teased as she folded the blankets up.
“All I want are my blankets back!” Cyrus moaned as he took the pillow off his head and stood up.
“Well I’m sorry dear but it’s time to get up. The King and Glenn request for your presence.” The maid said as she began to make her way out of the room. The door closed behind the plump maid and she made her way down the castle stairs. The stairs were a spiral staircase that were lined with red velvet that navigated it’s way down the stairs and stopped short of the royal chamber where which the King’s throne was held.
Cyrus whirled his legs out of his bed and sat them on the cold coble stone floor. He got up and looked around the room to realize to his amazement that all of his belongings from his original house now filled this room with great and troublesome memories. He never realized this at first when he lay down to sleep but it was probably the fact because he was so tired and it was very dark in the room the night before.
Over to the right in a small corner was Cyrus’s small couch. Next to the couch was a table that he recognized as his night stand. And over to his left corner was the small wooden dinner table with small beaten up wooden chairs. He walked over to the couch in small strides while whipping the sleep from his eyes and plopped down in the couch. Dust sprang up and attacked his nose and he sneezed once. Soon enough it had vanished and Cyrus looked over to the small table and seen medals and a picture of Tocka. He leaned over and picked up the picture while eyeing the medals. He then had a sudden flash back.
He was sitting on the couch with Tocka while he held his medals in his hand from the table.
“Cyrus, I won these for being the Jouster in Guardia and in other countries!” He exclaimed in a rather cocky way.
“Really?” Cyrus said with a bit of sarcasm to his voice.
“You don’t believe me? Ha, then I should teach you. I once won a Jousting tournament with nearly over fifty men. It was a great tournament and slaughtered every one of them!” Tocka exaggerated shortly.
“You killed them?” Cyrus asked suddenly.
“Of course not! Jousting isn’t about killing. Besides that isn’t the Guardia Knight way. But I didn’t win these medals because I was the best. I won these because I was smart. Every man who went against me spat at me as if I were nothing and were sure they were going to beat me. But I proved them wrong and I made them pay. They were to over confident and I think that they know that now. If you want to win something and be the best, don’t get cocky! Don’t be so confident and make stupid decisions. Trust me on this one Cyrus, you too could become a great Knight, Jouster, Joker, or Princess.” Tocka joked a bit catching a small grin from Cyrus.
“But remember, you have to try and work hard. I may not be your father Cyrus and I’m sure he loved you a lot, but I care for you too. I would hate to see anything bad happen to you.” Tocka assured Cyrus.
Cyrus gazed at him for a small time and hugged Tocka with firm hands. Tocka did the same. Soon the memory vanished and Cyrus was stranded in the in the bleak castle room again. Cyrus had always been very close to Tocka and had loved him a lot but, him not being there seemed kind of empty. He stood up and started to walk to his clothes which were neatly folded next to his bed. He picked them up and unfolded them to reveal many rips and scrapes. They were his old clothes from the horrible Mystic onslaught. Just over his shoulder he heard a firm bang on the door. He sat the shirt down gently and walked over to the door and opened it to reveal a long seen face. Lydion!
“Lydion!” Cyrus expressed gladly. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“Yes, it has been some time. May I come in Cyrus?” Lydion asked with a large chest in his arms. The chest looked ancient and was covered with dust. The wood was cracked, scuffed and beat up.
“Of course! I’m sorry I’m not dressed but I don’t have any descent clothes.” Cyrus said still exposed to the world.
“Well that’s what I’m here for. This chest belonged to Tocka,” Lydion said as he walked in setting the ancient chest down on Cyrus’s bed then continuing, “I think that he would’ve wanted you to have these.”
He sat down on the bed and opened the scuffled chest. Inside the chest revealed armor. It was beautiful armor that was covered in black. Around on top of the black was purple outlining that revealed different patterns like a curly wave. Occasional gold waves stretched off of the purple to reveal different outlines.
“You know he wore this armor all the time, but it’s not very comfortable without this.” Lydion pulled out a small skinny purple tunic that had small bands around the ends of the arms and neck. At the bottom of the chest were scuffed up hunting boots and dark leather leggings. They too looked as old as the chest.
“This is all of Tocka’s?” Cyrus asked while slipping on the leather leggings followed by the purple tunic Lydion gave him.
“Yes, and there’s another surprise waiting for you downstairs in the Royal Chamber.” Lydion finished.
Cyrus stood there in an awkward silence waiting for something to happen. Soon enough Lydion stood up off the bed and parted farewell to Cyrus and left the room shutting the door behind him.
He sat quietly, his own thoughts hazy and wistful as the setting in which he paused, giving way for one brief moment to the sinking despair that seized him when he thought of how much he desperately and dreadfully lost. He had never felt this alone before, even in the dark emtiness of the Mystic enslavement when he had been taken captive far from home. Something deep within him hinted with dread persistence that he would never have back what he had so terribly lost, that he would never see his friends, his old home, and his old life. Somewhere in the days behind, he had lost it all. He shook his head, the unwanted tears building on the edge of his lids as the dampness closed in about him and the chill of the morning air setting inside the bedroom. He put his arm up to his face trying to sway back the tears that flooded his vision.
Something wasn’t right, those tears of sorrow were whipped away and still they pored out of his face. These weren’t tears of sadness and sorrow, but tears of hatred and darkness. Flashbacks going back to the Mystic onslaught of them beating him constantly day and night started to raise his anger. His hand balled into a fist so tight that it looked as almost they were going to tear out of their sockets. He breathed deeply and his face began to grin madly. He punched the chest as hard as he could with extra power of hatred and anger leaving a remarkably big dent in the side of it.
“Why did everybody have to die!?” Cyrus screamed in frustration the darkness overwhelming as it did inside the small cage at the Mystic camp. “Why did they torture me so bad?” Cyrus’s voice had deeply smoothened and he was now crying tears of sadness again. His darkness was gone; he found himself in a wimpy sober of sorrow.
Minutes later he stopped crying and dressed himself in Tocka’s old clothing which Lydion brought. Lydion had forgotten something in the bottom of the chest that Cyrus noticed when he walked by it at the last second. Tocka’s cape. This cape was given to Tocka by the king. Cyrus picked it up and looked at it. It was purple and was finished with fine black outlining of a bird almost. Cyrus clipped it onto his armor as it draped over his shoulders and back just nearly hitting the floor. Cyrus was unquestionably mature enough to wear this armor. He eye the room for a few seconds and left the room heading down a flight of stairs that occasionally had a small platform leading into another room east of him. Those rooms were used for storage only and usually consisted of wine barrels, tables, chairs, and sometimes weapons. After the platform the stairs continued heading down with still more stops, it seemed as almost Cyrus had was at the very top of the castle.
A few minutes past and Cyrus finally reached the bottom his legs already sore from the walk and the armor weighing him down. He was in the main chamber and walked down a hallway a little ways to reveal the king sitting at his throne with a few peasants by his side. He was talking to them and it seemed as if they were making an agreement. Cyrus walked up with his heavy armor clanking with each step he took and stood in a little distance from the king. He was able to hear what they were saying.
“Please, your majesty, we beg of you. If those bandits don’t stop stealing our supplies our farm is going to be taken away. We will have no more money.” There was a rather scrawny peasant dressed in old farm clothes that were ripped and scraped and an older looking woman who had a rather plump shape. She to was wearing beat up farm clothes. They were in desperate need of money.
“I’ll tell you what, I will send a few knights back home with you and they will guard your farm for only two days. If those bandits show up then they will be able to take them out. If not though, I’m sorry but we will have to bring them back.” The king said in calm reassuring voice.
The two peasants greeted the king farewell and headed out of the chamber. The king stood up out of his royal throne and noticed Cyrus standing in the middle of the room eyeing the glorious view.
“Ah, Cyrus. Come here my boy...” The king motioned Cyrus to come over to him. “I’ve been meaning to meet with you. First of all, how are you? Did you get a good sleep?” The king asked.
“Fine, it was good sleeping in a nice bed for once.” Cyrus replied still a little tired.
“Well that’s good. Now onto more important matters and I’m sorry that I’m rushing into matters so suddenly but, I need to know what you know about the Mystics and there forces.” The king said walking over to the throne.
“I’m sorry to advise you but the most I ever heard of was that the Mystics were planning a full scale raid onto Porre but it seems that something went wrong and it was never carried out. I really know nothing of the war and its matters.” Cyrus explained thoroughly.
“I understand. If don’t recall Glenn said he wanted to meet with you.” The king said.
Cyrus parted from the Royal Chamber heading to where Glenn was. He was in the knight’s chambers where all the war meetings happen, where the square table is located, where training is held, and just a place for the knights to take a break. He headed down a hallway west of the Royal Chamber and headed down a small flight of stairs. Upon entering he had seen what Guardia had been up to.
There were more knights then ever before. He walked a little ways in and passed a small room fill with bunks and beds. He steadily walked by more rooms filled with bunks and beds eyeing the knights in them as they talked to one another. He entered another big room with a square table to the left of him.
“It’s been a while hasn’t it Cyrus?” A familiar voice sounded.
He turned around to reveal a friendly face that he hadn’t seen all day.
“Hey Glenn,” He greeted still amused with how Guardia had changed so much since he had been gone, “This place has changed a lot. I remember that all the training used to go on here.”
“It’s now just a medical room, and the quarters for the Square Table.” Glenn said.
“Where is all of Guardia’s training and who are all of those knights in all of those rooms.” Cyrus asked a little confused.
“This might sound a little strange to you but I will explain. We have massively extended the Castle as you can see. We added more rooms to keep all the knights here. All of these knights come from Durina, the flower kingdom. They have spared many troops to help us with the war for trade.” Glenn explained.
“What do we trade?” Cyrus asked, yet another question coming from his joggled mind.
“Weapons, food, and we built them a castle.” Glenn replied.
All of this in such a small amount of time. Cyrus thought, as he watched nurses pass his side into a busy crowd of knights. There had to be at least sixty knights in that room when he noticed an open door to the very right leading to the outside. He walked over to the door and peered outside.
“Wow…” Cyrus stood in pure amazement upon seeing what he was.
“Amazing isn’t it. They spared a lot of knights but not all of them are Durinian, some of them are Guardia’s too.” Glenn said walking up beside Cyrus also peering through the open door. Thousands of Durinian and Guardian knights stood outside. To the right of them was a training area strictly for archery which was heavily occupied with knights shooting at small targets with Mystic faces glued on them, to the left of them was jousting and swordplay training which consisted of many knights fighting with wooden swords. North of them were stables full of horses and war machinery such as catapults and other big weaponry. All of this training in such a huge place.
They made their way out to the large courtyard filled with men and knights ; Glenn explained thoroughly about what has happened over the past few years Cyrus had been gone like going into detail about how Guardia got helped to from a kingdom like Durina. He also explained new laws that never really applied to Cyrus, just for small time farm owners and alcoholics.
They made their way around the whole courtyard occasionally taking to some knights about random conversations that reached the years of the two. They found their way at the swordplay and jousting area. Many men stood watch as there glistering eyes were fixed among two knights fighting in a small ring. The ring was just a big circle in the ground but that was all they needed for what was going on. The two men had wooden swords and moved in a crouched position circling each other.
“Get on with it already!” A sudden voice shouted next to Cyrus.
At an instant the voice shouted one of the men lifted his head to see who shouted but to his surprise he was met with a painful blow to the head by the wooden sword the other man had held.
“You Durinains, never take your eye off an enemy.” The man spat.
“Hey Cyrus, give it shot.” Glenn encouraged.
Cyrus thought for a while and turned to Glenn, “No, I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Oh c’mon! Their just wood, it could never kill anyone.” Glenn assured.
