This may, or may not, turn out to be a long and prosperous story. I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with it – the amount of work I have to do every day is simply appalling. Please do read, and review, but don't expect weekly updates. Expect monthly, or longer.

Sir Neal: Starting

This should be a nice retelling of First Test, from Neal's POV. We all love Neal, don't we? It's time to see Kel's story, from his side of the tale. It should prove fun.

I'm doing a disclaimer that applies to all chapters, okay? Okay.

Disclaimer: If you see something you recognize as somebody else's work, somebody else who is copyrighted and so on, it's their's and not mine. I'm not claiming ownership over characters, plot, and so on at all. You can't sue me. So there.

Well, I hope I actually find the time to do this! Cheeseycraziness

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Prologue:

Dear Cousin,

You wish you could have seen it. Raoul the amazing, Raoul the giant-killing divine being, managed to let his Drum accidentally trample his toes. Not only does it hurt so much that he has to limp, but the healers won't heal it. They say it's not broken, just badly bruised, and they need a break so they can save their healing for other, more serious cases. In translation, they want to see their Knight Commander have a bit of humiliation for once. It'll build his character.

If you hate it so much, why are you even bothering? Be a knight, already. You know you want to. It'll save you from such a dreadful situation, and perhaps the discipline will save us from having to bear with your insolent tongue all the time.

Besides, if you don't, perhaps I'll have a friend of mine recall what happened last Midwinter, to show to my uncle. He'd love to see that scene with Marrol that day. Did I mention my magical friend was there to see the whole thing? He showed me it afterwards. I've been saving this little secret for something like this for a while, and I have more where that came from. I'll promise not to tell, and I'll be saving you from the university and their bookish ways.

Your kind cousin who does you favors you don't deserve,

Dom

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Dear Cousin,

Dom, are you spying on me? How on earth did you see that little misadventure?

At last I have taken your advice. I hope you rejoice. Your endless underlining of words and your innate skill at seeing blackmail opportunities convinced me to quit the university at last. No, I'm not telling my father behind your cruel, mischievous back. I grudgingly agree with you, to be honest. I need the discipline, as all my teachers tell me. Hard knight's work will do that, and possibly dull that "insolent tongue" of mine. Or perhaps not.

So that's it. I've quit. I'm free as a bird. With the fall will come me in a page's uniform amongst the 10-year-old, frolicking, stick-swinging savages. I guess nothing's perfect.

How is life on the muddy side of the road? I can't believe that Lord Raoul would so something so unspectacular as to allow that. I hope the humiliation of limping around for a week or so won't be too bad. Then again, with you on the job, it probably will. I will scold you mercilessly if – sorry, when – you taunt him about it. I'm writing that berating speech as you are reading this.

Your cruelly mistreated cousin,

Neal

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Well? Read and review, please...