A Hero's Journey: Squire

     Located in northwestern Meridell and nestled among the mountains, the village of Trestin was a considerable distance away from the castle. Though a river ferry had carried Rohane and Cavall to White River, the rest of the journey to Trestin would have to be made on foot. Thus, the knight and squire walked along a newly minted path that would bring them through the woods opening into the western plains.

     “Reuben said he would meet us here,” Rohane muttered, glancing around. Then he suddenly fell silent and held out an arm in front of Cavall, who automatically stopped as well. The Blue Cybunny clutched at the straps of his backpack, eyes darting from side to side as he wondered if his companion had seen anything. The woods had grown particularly thick in this part of Meridell – the perfect cover for something unsavoury.

     Or maybe, his mind reasoned, he had been kept in a mansion in the middle of the woods for years, complete with vines and a large oak tree obscuring his bedroom window from the public. Of course, he would be unsettled; this reminded him of his life as Cathton Wincott, not Cavall, the orphan squire selected to train under the legendary Sir Rohane of Trestin. His life when he was hidden away, unknown barring a few select Neopians –

     Two sounds snapped him out of his reverie. The rustling of the trees, and the white Blumaroo’s voice.

     “Cavall, stay close.”

     The Cybunny whispered, “Wh-what’s wrong, sir?”

     A third sound erupted – the twang of a bow. Instinctively Cavall leaped away from the sound, but Rohane dived toward the opposite direction, rolling and jumping up with his sword drawn. Sprouting from the ground between them was an arrow fletched with Crokabek feathers.

     They had the briefest glimpse of a Stealthy Kyrii lurking in the tree, loading his bow for another shot when two brigands burst from the bushes. A skunk Techo lunged toward Cavall, who haphazardly drew the regulation sword he carried while a heavyset Zombie Kacheek brandished a massive blade, which clashed against Rohane’s sword. The Kacheek was aided by a red Poogle with two small daggers, and the two of them kept Rohane busy.

     “Sir Knight, surrender and give us your valuables,” the Kyrii said. He let another arrow loose and it thudded into the trunk of another tree where Cavall’s head had been seconds ago. But though Cavall kept his head literally, he didn’t keep his head figuratively.

     One impulse swing and a miss later, his weapon flew out of his hands as the skunk Techo disarmed him, grabbed him, and placed a dagger at his throat.

     “…Or else,” the Kyrii added, nodding with approval at the Techo. “Grimarr is the fastest blade this side of Meridell; one wrong move, and you know what’ll happen.”

     Grimarr pressed the dagger against the Blue Cybunny’s neck, causing him to whimper.

     “No! Not Cavall!” Rohane protested as he ducked the Zombie Kacheek’s next strike, the blade whistling past his ear.

     “Then you know what to do. Drop your sword.”

     Cavall’s eyes were wide with cold fright and he didn’t even try to wriggle out of his captor’s clutches. Gritting his teeth, Rohane did as he was told, and as his blade hit the ground, both the Kacheek and the Poogle blocked him with their blades close to his chest.

     “Now, wasn’t that easy?” the Kyrii asked, lowering his bow.

     The part of Cavall’s mind that wasn’t paralysed with fear was working quickly. He blamed himself for Rohane being unable to act; perhaps if he hadn’t been disarmed and captured, they could have escaped. But if these brigands were looking for money…

     We want to keep you safe from people who would use you to get their hands on the Wincott fortune, and then throw you away.

     Rohane may not know it, but Cavall knew that they had another valuable in their midst – and it wasn’t the heavy Wincott pendant in the Blue Cybunny’s pocket.

     For years, no one has figured out who I really am. But this time…Sir Rohane is in danger, and Meridell needs him more than me. What am I, I’m just a useless noble…

     “I-Is that all you want from us?” Cavall stammered. “Our…our money?”

     “Are you going to try and bargain with us, kid?” Grimarr asked. He snorted. “That’s funny. Gonna pull some gold out of your hat or something?”

     “Cavall, don’t!” The white Blumaroo grunted as the red Poogle hit him on the back of his head with a clenched fist.

     “I…” The Cybunny’s insides ran cold and his throat was suddenly dry. What am I supposed to say? That I’m the Wincott family’s secret heir and I could give them my entire family fortune?

     Cavall was saved from saying anything more by a knife that whizzed past Grimarr’s head. Judging from the yelp the Techo made, the knife had grazed him, and it was enough for him to loosen his grip on the squire. Meanwhile, the Poogle and the Kacheek gasped in surprise – and a second knife struck the trunk of a tree, quivering a fraction of an inch away from the Kacheek’s ear.

     “Sorry I’m late!”

     A second white Blumaroo in a brown cloak burst upon the scene as Rohane extricated himself from the brigands who had trapped him. Cavall fled as far as he could yet remained close enough to watch the action. The Blumaroo was heavyset and towered over Rohane, wearing an off-white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a bluish-gray vest, dark brown breeches tucked into black leather boots, and most notably, a belt with four more knives. He grinned – a bright and snarky grin that seemed so out of place on someone who resembled Rohane so closely.

     “About time, Reuben!” Rohane cried as he veered away from the Kacheek’s rapidly chopping blade. He collided with the red Poogle and threw her bodily into the Kacheek before hurrying away from the Kyrii’s line of fire.

     Reuben looked up and sprinted toward the Kyrii’s tree, climbing up and dodging the arrows shot at him. The Blumaroo managed to swing up onto the bough where the archer was, and the Kyrii pulled out a baton that clashed with Reuben’s dagger. He struck Reuben again and again, but with a flick of his dagger and despite wincing from the blows to his shoulders and head, Reuben sent the baton plummeting to the ground.

     The Kacheek and the Poogle surrounded Rohane with weapons drawn. All three of them were tensed, but no one was moving. While the Kyrii had drawn an arrow and was blocking Reuben’s dagger with it, Grimarr picked up a stone and hurled it at Cavall, who scrambled aside, tripped and fell.

     Raising his large blade, the Zombie Kacheek brought it down, but Rohane was quicker. He darted between him and the Poogle, who bumped into each other instead.

     “Ow.”

     “What do you mean, ow?” the Poogle said as she extricated herself from the Kacheek, her eyes on his massive blade. “You nearly cleaved me in two – ow!”

     Rohane was not finished yet and had managed to slash at the backs of her knees while she was berating her companion. As she crumpled to the ground, the Kacheek snarled and rounded on the knight, only to receive a kick to the stomach that caused him to stagger backwards, trip over the Kyrii’s baton, and fall, winded.

     “Cavall!”

     “S-Sir!”

     Cavall was holding up his regulation sword up to his face and attempting to avoid Grimarr’s menacing, curved dagger. Every now and then he tried to swipe at the Techo, only to miss – though a lucky strike cut Grimarr’s cheek.

     “You little whelp – “

     His words were cut off when a knife flew straight down and hit his foot, causing him to cry out in pain. Cavall’s knight-master seized the opportunity to disarm the skunk Techo and punch him square in the nose. Grimarr flinched but managed to blindly throw a hard right that caught Rohane in the face. Reuben suddenly jumped down from the tree, knocking Grimarr out with the pommel of his dagger. Overhead, the Stealthy Kyrii could be seen pinned by his clothes to the trunk of the tree with his own arrows.

     “You’ll…you’ll pay for this!” the Zombie Kacheek howled as he charged. He ploughed straight into Reuben and Rohane, hacking wildly with his massive cleaver-like blade at the two of them, his weapon snagging into Reuben’s cloak. He made no further progress once one sword and two knives were pointed at his throat.

     “How about,” said Reuben casually, “you let us, and the kid, go our merry way?”

     Meanwhile, the red Poogle sat up, and braced herself to throw a knife. With a scream, Cavall grabbed a rock and flung it with all his might – and successfully knocked her out. The Blue Cybunny stared in disbelief as she fell to the ground, the knife dropping from her hand.

     “Y-Y-Yeah, w-we’ll do that,” the Kacheek stammered. He laid down his weapon and raised his arms. “J-Just go!”

     In no time at all, Rohane and Cavall gathered up their things, while Reuben retrieved the knives he had used in the scuffle. Then they headed down the path that would bring them to Trestin without a second-glance at the mess of brigands they left behind, at a brisk pace despite their injuries. Rohane passed Cavall a small healing vial after quickly looking him over.

     “You’re late,” said Rohane, holding his face where Grimarr had punched him. A cut marked the place where the skunk Techo’s dagger had grazed him as well. “Where were you? But more importantly, are you all right?”

     Reuben smiled despite an already forming bruise on his head. “Takes more than that to bring your big bro down. And, you know how on top of being a full-time swordsmith, I’m also a full-time father.”

     “And a full-time pain in the – “

     “As I was saying, are you planning to become a full-time father too?” Reuben asked, eyeing Cavall, who was still in shock.

     Rohane rolled his eyes. “Very funny. Reuben, this is Cavall, my squire. Cavall, this is Reuben, my older brother and Trestin’s resident forge master.”

     “I-It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Reuben,” Cavall managed to say as they marched onward.

     “Oh, come on, call me ‘Reuben’.” The White Blumaroo winked. “Or ‘Uncle Reuben’, I had hoped to become an uncle but someone here isn’t into the family thing, but at least he finally decided to get a squire. I’ve heard about you from Rohane’s letters, but it’s great to see you. I can’t wait to get started on your new sword.”

     Somehow it was possible for Cavall to look even more shocked.

     “Cavall, that’s why I’m bringing you with me to Trestin,” Rohane explained. “Didn’t I tell you?”

     “Y-Yes, sir, I know, but…” The Blue Cybunny finally smiled as well. “It’s surreal, knowing I’ll get my own sword real soon. And…and…I threw that rock, and hit that Poogle…”

     “Heh, that was a nice shot. I don’t think Rohane could have nailed that throw like you did, kiddo.”

     “I know I’m not exactly the best archer, but I know a thing or two about throwing things and hitting people with them.”

     “Only because hitting people is your official job description – hey! Watch it, that’s where the Kyrii beaned me with his baton!”

     “You hit people too, Reuben. By throwing sharp objects at them. And Cavall hasn’t even seen your glaive.”

     “Technicalities! And you look terrible, grab the healing potion from my pack and I’ll patch you up when we get home!”

     “Look who’s talking. Were you worried about me?”

     “You idiot, I’m a full-time big brother too, what do you think?”

     * * *

     Trestin was so secluded that it seemed immune to the hustle and bustle around Meridell Castle down south. Cavall found it much easier to keep pace with the bucolic atmosphere despite not a few villagers greeting Reuben and Rohane as they passed through.

     “There they are, Trestin’s golden boys!”

     “Looks like they got into a bit of a scrap, oh, poor Melissa must be used to this by now.”

     Reuben grinned. “Nothing like running into some brigands to spice up a family reunion. It was good for a warm-up before I beat Rohane in a sparring match later.”

     “You’re in no shape to be dueling me.”

     “How’s Darel?” a blue Ixi asked.

     “Lively, as usual, and he’s been drawing a lot.” The swordsmith beamed. “He gets it from both sides of the family.”

     “Darel?” Realisation dawned upon Cavall’s scratched and dirty face. “Oh! Sir Rohane told me about your son!”

     “My son, yeah,” Reuben added. “He’s got his mother’s magic, and of course, his father’s roguishly good looks.”

     Rohane raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t Darel take after Andrea more since they’re both Red Kyrii?”

     “Shhh, again with the technicalities.”

     Cavall gaped when they got to the house along the lane, which was next to a shop called Blades n’ Bows and a smithy. The house looked like it had been expanded over the years to accommodate more residents – yet it could still fit neatly into the Wincott mansion, at least before the mansion was reduced to ruins, rubble, and ashes. The thought of his old home felt like an old ache that never really went away, but faded somewhat, over time. Never mind that it wasn’t really a home in the first place.

     Neither was it pleasant to think about – as he usually did – how Rohane was not only from a commoner background but did not come from a wealthy family. Cavall wondered what Rohane would think if he found out his squire was heir to a fortune that could probably buy the entirety of Trestin.

     He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed the front door open, but the voice he heard snapped him out of his reverie. It was nothing like how he had imagined the voice of Reuben and Rohane’s mother – a gentle, nurturing tone – or the voice of Andrea, probably mildly annoyed with Reuben. Instead, the voice was deep, and seemed far away, almost like a ruler calling to her subjects for attention.

     “You must be Cavall.”

     When the Blue Cybunny looked up, he saw a Purple Lupe in a midnight blue robe adorned with stars, moons, and glittery swirls – certainly neither the elderly White Blumaroo nor the Red Kyrii he expected to meet at the door. Large golden suns dangled from her ears, and when she met his gaze, he felt as though he could hide nothing from her – not even his lineage as Cathton Wincott. Cavall swallowed hard and suddenly couldn’t find his voice as he realised that he spent a few seconds just gaping at the mysterious Lupe.

     “Miss Olivia?” Rohane’s eyes widened but he didn’t seem as shocked as Cavall to see her. Then he turned to Reuben. “You didn’t tell me she was coming over!”

     “I didn’t know!” Reuben cleared his throat hastily. “I-I mean, sorry, Miss Olivia. We didn’t know you were coming over for dinner.”

     “Well, I didn’t know either, until I received a message from the heavens.”

     Rohane leaned slightly toward Cavall. “Miss Olivia is a nature seer. She reads the weather, the grass, the trees…you get the picture. Miss Olivia, this is Cavall, my squire.”

     “Ah…p-pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

     “We can listen to that message later when we’re patched up and clean,” said Reuben as he pulled Rohane into the house. “Shouldn’t take long.”

     But as Cavall moved to follow them, Olivia drew closer to him and whispered something that sent a chill radiating throughout his entire being.

     “The heavens told me to find you, young Cavall.”

     * * *

     Whatever else the heavens had told Olivia, she did not say anything about it over dinner beyond being tasked to find Cavall.

     “But why did you see Cavall in the…skies?” Rohane asked. “I mean, we know you’re a seer so you’re bound to see these things, but…”

     “Unfortunately, I did not see anything beyond that. You, having taken centre stage in a prophecy, would know that the Sight is fleeting and fickle.” The Lupe daintily bit a piece of meat speared onto her fork.

     “Don’t remind me of that prophecy.” The White Blumaroo clutched his forehead. “Can we talk about something else that isn’t the Wingshadow Prophecy? I hated it when a seer whispered into my ear every few steps.” That merely elicited a short laugh from Olivia.

     “So,” said Reuben slowly, “does this mean Cavall is going to be in a prophecy of his own one day?”

     Cavall swallowed nervously and hurriedly took a long draught of his juice while Rohane jabbed Reuben in the ribs.

     “Don’t scare him like that. Miss Olivia never said anything about Cavall being in a prophecy. Maybe she was called here to, I don’t know, impart some sort of wisdom?”

     “Please, have some more stew,” said Melissa, passing the bowl to Cavall for the Blue Cybunny to ladle more of the rich, meaty soup into his bowl. When the conversation shifted to him, he resorted to staring at the stew instead of looking up to meet anyone in the eye. “So, how are your studies?”

     “Oh…um, they’re okay. Literature, math, history, geography…they’re tough sometimes but they can be fun. Etiquette is harder and so is…combat. Athletics. Swordsmanship.”

     “Etiquette and proper decorum are always tough,” Reuben commented, buttering some mashed potatoes that already had a generous helping of the stew sauce drizzled over them. “Not even Father could make all those rules exciting.”

     “He didn’t like them any more than we did, Reuben,” said Rohane, grinning.

     Melissa smiled softly and shook her head. “No, but he tried his best.”

     “Too bad his best wasn’t good enough to stop Reuben from becoming a bundle of snark,” said Andrea with the straightest face she could muster. Darel, Andrea and Reuben’s son, truly resembled her, apart from the eyes; Andrea’s were blue, while Darel’s were dark brown. He picked up a piece of meat in his hand before stuffing it into his mouth and prompting his mother to wipe his saucy fingers. “Use your spoon, honey.”

     “Where would I be without my snark?” Reuben declared grandly before turning to Olivia. “Anyway, Miss Olivia, it’s always nice to see you, but you didn’t send us a message to tell us you were coming.”

     “Perhaps I also wanted my visit to be a surprise,” the Purple Lupe said primly as she sliced some asparagus stalks.

     “She’s got a point,” Andrea pointed out.

     The stew, asparagus, and potatoes turned sour in Cavall’s stomach. They said Olivia was a seer, and apparently, the skies had told her to come to Trestin at this precise time to find him. Does she know? Does she know I’m not really Cavall, but Cathton Wincott? Is she going to tell everyone? Is she going to tell Sir Rohane I’ve been lying to him and everyone else in the castle all this time? With not a little effort, he swallowed his next bite of vegetables.

     “But in due time, I think everyone will soon find out a little more about young Cavall.” She smiled and reached out to ruffle Darel’s mane. The little Red Kyrii had obeyed Andrea and was now using a spoon instead of his hand.

     “E-Excuse me.”

     Everyone looked up from their food to see Cavall push himself away from the table, stand up, and after a moment’s thought, pick up his plate with a third of his meal left on it.

     “Cavall? Is something wrong?” Rohane asked.

     “Er, uh, y-yes, sir,” the Blue Cybunny stammered. “I’m…I just got really tired after today. Can I be excused? I mean, may I be excused?”

     Rohane looked toward his mother and older brother. The former nodded, while the latter merely shrugged. Meanwhile, Olivia met Cavall’s eyes again, and he hoped fervently that she wouldn’t tell them about him – if she knew about him – while he was away from the table.

     “Go ahead, but let us know if you need anything, okay?”

     * * *

     Cavall could hear the clatter of silverware and plates being scrubbed in the sink, the pitter-patter of Darel’s footsteps and the uproarious laughter that could only be from Reuben, interspersed with giggling from the little Kyrii. He sat at a desk, staring at the empty plate after finishing the rest of his dinner.

     Belatedly he remembered that the desk used to be Rohane’s, and the room was in fact his knight-master’s old quarters, which they would share while they were at Trestin. Cavall sprang from his chair and hurriedly wiped the surface of the desk with a handkerchief. Then he glanced at his plate, fork and spoon, and then faced the door. He ought to take them out and wash them, but he remembered the strange Miss Olivia and her clairvoyant powers.

     She saw him in a vision. But why him? What if it wasn’t about him being Cathton Wincott, but something else? Something worse? His insides twisted as he shoved one hand into his pocket, feeling the heavy Wincott medallion inside and wondering if he should have just thrown it away four years ago, severed his last link to his noble lineage.

     What if I’m bad luck for Sir Rohane and everyone else around him? Will this be my punishment for running away from my family and not even bothering to look for my parents after the fire?

     The door creaked open and the Cybunny jumped, ready to make the excuse that he was going to take his tableware out to the kitchen.

     “If you feel a bit awkward around Miss Olivia, she keeps everyone on their toes with her revelations.”

     Cavall let out the breath he had been holding, feeling like he was finally coming up from underwater for air.

     “Sir…”

     “She can be a little…odd sometimes, but she’s wise, and she learned to control her powers from Illusen herself,” said Rohane as he shut the door behind him. He furrowed his brow as he looked over his squire from ear to foot. “Are you sure you’re all right? If you’re sick…”

     Cavall shook his head vigorously. “No, no…yeah, I just…” He inclined his head toward the door. “I don’t know what Miss Olivia is talking about.”

     “Well, most of the time, neither do we.” The Blumaroo chuckled softly. “And sometimes, it’s okay to not know. Because we usually know when the time comes.”

     When the time comes.

     The Blue Cybunny replayed these words in his head. The medallion in his pocket suddenly felt heavier. Though he enjoyed his life as Cavall, a voice in the back of his head reminded him every so often that there would come a time when he would have to tell everyone the truth. He had thought his time had come when the bandits had captured him and Rohane demanding money, but Reuben had arrived in time, scuttling that plan.

     So far, no time seemed right, and Cavall inwardly hoped that that time would never come.

To be continued…