I don't own anything in this story except the instructors and headmaster… And I based the whole Page/Squire/Knight system on Tamora Pierce's Song of the Lioness/Protector of the small quartets. They are AMAZING, and I recommend them to anyone who enjoys my story in the least. Also, if you wanted to know, a giant bell is rung every hour, so one bell = one hour, that's how they tell time at the castle. I can't remember if I took that idea from Tamora Pierce as well or if I took it from Sherwood Smith's Inda series. That series is awesome too, if a little lengthy.

Right now Cain and Abel are 12 years-old and the next few chapters will be two years later than the last one, until it catches up with when the game starts. It will be a few chapters before anything really happens between them. And… I know this is bad… but I'm not that good on keeping up with things, so there might be some time between chapters… :P

It was that time of year at the Altean Palace; late summer and the new page applicants were arriving at the castle. They came in twos and threes until there were 23 boys and 9 girls, all twelve years of age, and coming from families ranging from common merchants to the Noble houses. Not all of them would make it through the first week of classes and training, those whom the instructors deemed unworthy to continue due either to personality or behavior were to be sent back home in disgrace. Those who were accepted would spend the next four years studying and training under the tutelage of the greatest scholars and warriors in Altea, while the following two years would be sent serving as a squire to a knight of Altea. After six years of dedicated learning, the remaining students would be knighted by the Queen herself and be charged with the defense of the kingdom. Each young boy and girl who arrived at the palace annually knew what was planned for them, and a few inevitably cracked under the pressure the first year in training. Nobody wanted to be part of the group that was sent home after the first week, so each child gave their all to be models of perfection. It was with this mindset that the hopefuls entered their first class the morning of day one of evaluations.

The lesson was math, taught by Instructor Rylette, a resident scholar at the Palace. This was a relief to one of the young pages, a boy by the name of Abel who hailed from a Port city on the Southern coast. He had always been a reasonable boy, so the science of numbers came easily to him, unlike many of the other hopefuls. One boy named Cain was particularly worried, as he had never been able to grasp the more complicated aspects of dealing with numbers and how they related to the real world. The children took their seats at the several long tables stretching across the room nearly from wall to wall, parallel with the huge chalkboard hung on the front wall of the classroom. Each seat had a respective chalkboard-tablet and stick of chalk placed on the table in front of it. Many of the pages already knew each other, as the majority of them were from noble families. Thus they sat down in pairs and in groups according to where they were comfortable, until only two seats were left at the end of one of the middle tables. Cain and Abel, both coming from distant towns and merchant families and so having no relations with anyone there, took those remaining side-by-side seats.

The Instructor strode to the front of the room, robes billowing around his slippered feet. He seemed to take in the entirety of the class in one piercing glance before turning his back to them and raising a stick of chalk to the board on the wall. The children got the message it had conveyed; he was not someone to cross. Some exchanged worried expressions with friends; some looked quickly down to make sure their tunic uniform was hanging how it was supposed to.

With a last flourish of chalk against the board, Instructor Rylette turned back to the class. They realized with horror that what he had written on the board was nothing less than a series of number problems, each one progressively more difficult and more daunting than the last.

"Each of you will find a tablet and chalk on the table in front of you," the Instructor called out, "I want you to write down the answers to the problems I have written on the board. This is simply a test to see how learned you are in this subject. I will give you half a bell to complete these ten problems; that should be more than enough time. Silence, please. Cheating will not be tolerated." He then strode back to the rear of the classroom, sat behind his desk piled with papers, and started to read a lengthy and worn book.

The majority of the class hastily picked up their chalk and began to calculate feverishly, a few students stared intermittently back at the Instructor and up at the chalkboard in disbelief, and still one student gazed down at his tablet and chalk with a glazed, hopeless look in his eyes. Cain knew he had no chance of solving even the simplest of the problems written on the board. His studies at the town-schoolhouse hadn't progressed much farther than learning simple addition and subtraction. What reason the letter 'x' had in being in the third problem, Cain had no clue. Looking helplessly about the room, he caught sight of the boy sitting to his right. He was scratching at his tablet with his chalk using confident strokes, rubbing out and rewriting, circling answers and moving on to the next problem. Cain leaned a little closer to the green-haired boy, hoping to catch sight of something that could help him get on the right path.

Abel had been progressing well on the assignment when a slight movement in his peripheral made him look to his left. The red-haired boy sitting to his left had craned his head toward Abel's chalk-covered tablet. Abel, in turn, leaned to his right, shifting the tablet farther away from the red-haired boy's sight. And yet, the boy shamelessly scooted his chair closer, straining for a look. Abel glared at the boy, who returned the look.

Abel and Cain were locked in a silent battle. Abel would move away and Cain would follow. Angry and incredulous at the boy's actions, Abel gave him a small shove, a warning. But Cain's face flushed with outrage and he nearly pushed his neighbor out of his chair. Having had enough of this stubborn rule-breaker, Abel put a foot on the back of Cain's chair and, with one great heave, knocked it over, spilling the cheater onto the floor next to the table. In the direct sight of Instructor Rylette.

"You'll find the Headmaster's office at the end of the hall to the right." Cain looked back at the Instructor, but he hadn't even glanced up from his book. As Cain rose to his feet and started toward the door with his head hanging, the Instructor added, "Both of you."

Abel slowly stood and followed Cain. A wave of stares followed until they closed the door behind them.

Both of them were silent as they walked side-by-side down the corridor, but tension crackled like static between them. At the end of the hall, just like Instructor Rylette had said, was a large wooden door with a plaque reading Headmaster nailed to it. Apprehension and dread filled the two boys as they approached. After another wordless clash of glares and gestures Abel finally stepped forward and rapped his knuckles on the wood.

A muffled voice came from within, "You may enter."

Another look was exchanged between the boys before Abel grasped and turned the door handle. They entered the office, their eyes drawn instantly to the aged man sitting behind the massive desk that took up most of the space in the small room. He was a small man, but had an inexplicably large presence. An old scar cut across his right cheek, causing the skin below it to droop slightly over his jawbone.

"So, what brings you boys here?" His eyes were kindly, but a stubbornness in his jaw was easy to read.

"Instructor Rylette sent us for fighting in class." Abel offered..

"Ah," the Headmaster relaxed back in his chair. He had dealt with this situation too many times to count. "Fighting, and on the first day too. Well, would you like to tell me what happened?"

Cain stuttered, "W-well, I-"

"I was trying to get a spider off him." Abel interrupted. Cain looked sharply at him. Abel looked at him as if to say, just trust me.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow at Abel. "A… spider?"

"Uh, yeah," Abel continued, "I was trying to brush it off of him, but he misunderstood. He thought I was trying to start a fight and so he jumped at me, so I pushed him away. That's all. Instructor Rylette misunderstood also."

The Headmaster stared at Abel, but the boy stared back, unrelenting, until the Headmaster looked away. It was possible a corner of his mouth was lifted in amusement, but Abel thought he might just be seeing something where there was nothing. "Very well, then, a spider. Nevertheless, you two did cause a disturbance during class. You two will report to the Armory one bell after dinner for your punishment. You will be serving two bells helping Sir Yian there. You are dismissed, but try to avoid any more spiders from now on, boys."

"Yes, sir," the boys answered in unison, then turned and walked back out the door.

The heavy door shut behind them with a click, but they stood still for a moment in the corridor, unable to believe that the Headmaster had accepted Abel's ridiculous story and given them such a light punishment. They had heard of pages receiving four bells and more of hard labor for the smallest of infractions, not even close to the unspeakable travesty of fighting in the middle of class.

Cain and Abel looked at each other in disbelief, and Cain began to laugh. Abel gave him a nudge and a jerk of the head to remind him that they were still within hearing of the Headmaster, but a smile danced on his lips. The boys ran back down the corridor, nearly skipping in their joy, the grievances of mere minutes before forgotten. Abel was reaching for the handle of the door to Instructor Rylette's classroom when Cain pulled him back suddenly.

"What are you doing?" Able whispered furiously.

Cain smiled and continued pulling Abel farther down the corridor. "We have a few minutes until the Instructor starts to wonder where we are. I don't know about you, but I would like to spend as little time as possible in that torture."

Abel allowed himself to be lead down one hallway after another, until Cain pushed open a pair of doors and they were greeted with fresh air. Spread out before them, below a few stone steps leading from the door, was a wide expanse of open ground alternating between grassy and bare dirt pounded by countless feet into a floor nearly as hard as the flagstone that paved nearly the entirety of the rest of the palace. The wall that surrounded the castle could be seen approximately fifty yards out, and the Stables stretched out from the castle a ways to the right. This space was used for general training of the pages; the horseback lessons were done outside of the wall where there was more room.

"How did you know how to get here?" Abel asked.

"I got here three days ago. I was bored so I went exploring."

Abel was impressed. All he had done while waiting for classes to start was worry and make a decent start on wearing a threadbare circle on the rug in his room.

Then Abel realized something; he still had no idea who this kid was. "Um, by the way… What's your name?"

"Oh! Yeah, right, it's Cain." He smiled ruefully.

"I'm Abel. It's nice to meet you." They shook hands and chuckled at the formality.

Abel sat down on a step with a sigh of contentment. He had never skipped any sort of lesson before, but he thought Cain's reasoning was sound, and something about the boy's careless attitude made him want to experience some of the world Cain lived in. "So, would you tell me what in god's name was running through your mind back in the classroom?"

"Oh, that…" Cain scratched his head in embarrassment. "You see, I'm horrid at numbers. Really, you have no idea. I was so afraid of what would happen when I turned in a blank slate, I just know they're going to send me home."

"They don't send people home just because they're bad at math."

"They will this time." Cain dropped down onto the step next to Abel and rested his head in his hands.

Abel felt sorry for him, and knew that no amount of reassurance could ease the worry. "You know, I'm pretty good at numbers."

"I noticed." Cain said sarcastically.

"No, I mean that I'd be willing to help you. That is, if you want my help."

Cain's head snapped up to gaze at Abel. "You would do that?"

"Yeah?"

The red-haired boy put a hand on Abel's shoulder, a serious expression on his face. "Abel, my Darling, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

Abel stared at Cain, then cracked up into gales of laughter. Cain joined in after a moment, adding the occasional snort to the mix of gasps and guffaws. The two laughed until they fell over, clutching at each other and at their middles. They laughed until they were wiping tears from the corners of their eyes. They laughed until they forgot what they were laughing about in the first place, which only made them laugh harder.

Despite the corniness of the phrase, Abel couldn't help but feel that what Cain had said had some grain of truth in it.