The Dawn King
Chapter IV
Gentleness Lost
Lin was on his way to a session with his history tutor with Nils close at his side when he heard voices from down the hall adjacent to the one they were headed toward. Nils looked at him confusedly and started to open his mouth to ask questions, but the prince held a finger up to his lips to signal for silence. Lin frowned when he heard that one of his father's advisers was leaving to go pursue a marriage proposal to a girl from one of Auj Oule's minor tribes. The conversation was focused on the logistics of the trip to the backwater region, which left him only able to pick up scarce pieces of information.
Nils didn't speak until they continued down their usual route. "Something wrong?"
"Didn't you hear that?"
"It was something about an engagement…" he trailed off, "it didn't seem terribly important."
Lin paused to look down at the entourage forming in the courtyard, Nils nearly bumping into him. He felt a pang of pity for whoever the unfortunate girl was to receive a proposal from a pompous adviser late in his decade of life with few real accomplishments to show for his years. His uniform may have possessed many seals, but they were all meaningless titles for things like Esteemed Defender of the Palace or Senior Officer of Recruit Training. It had as much meaning as calling one of the cats they kept around to catch the rats an Esteemed Defender.
They were only words that looked prestigious but truly had no valor. On top of that, he knew exactly why the man wanted a wife from a minor tribe; he could have his pick of any woman he wanted and the patriarch would have no choice but to agree. Bearing the name of Long Dau promised that much.
"That poor girl isn't going to have any choice but to say yes, with the size of the entourage they're sending," Lin said, shaking his head.
"The entourage is a sign of the tribe's greatness, you know that," Nils said smile.
Lin didn't return it. "It's just a way to make sure that a small tribe can't even consider making any decision except for the one the Long Dau want them to."
"But it's so fortunate for the girl, how often do low born tribes have a chance to marry into the Long Dau?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.
"It's just a way for us to manipulate and subjugate the weak tribes even more."
Nils couldn't bring himself to agree with the pessimism. "They're a poor tribe, she's bound to love all the riches of the capital. She must've done something really good in her last life for Undine to have put her in this position."
"That's just mythology," Lin said shortly. "There's absolutely no evidence a water spirit has anything to do with reincarnation.
"You could get spirited away for saying something like that!" Nils squeaked.
"That's pure superstition," Lin said, shaking his head.
"My mother says different," Nils said stubbornly.
"You still really believe that at your age?" he asked, snapping his book closed.
"I don't see why you don't! You read all sorts of stuff about spirits," he said, trying to rationalize his argument.
Lin stifled a sigh as he looked down at the procession. He had little doubt that whatever engagement gifts they were bringing along were far less than they would give if the bride was from the Long Dau instead of lowborn. The Long Dau avoided being disrespectful, but they were also just cunning enough to know that it wouldn't take as much to impress a small tribe as it would a highborn fiancée.
~oOo~
The Long Dau had a long standing tradition that combat training began as soon as children were strong enough and tall enough to lift swords. Though some citizens of Rashugal would blanch at the idea, it was customary in Auj Oule, and so no one questioned it. After reading books imported from their neighboring country, Lin didn't have much interest in taking part. Even when he stood in line with the other young boys from families deemed noble enough to constitute being trained by Yan Long Dau, he had no eagerness to take part. When he did not volunteer to take part in the first sparring exercises, his uncle went out of his way to find the prince in the palace and approached him with a dark glower.
"You can lift a sword, can't you?" Yan demanded.
Lin nodded reluctantly. Yan was not pleased to be stuck training the young members of nobility, but as Lin was now among their ranks, Patriarch Lars assigned his brother to conducting the training sessions.
"Then it's time to start training properly, not wasting your life away in a library," he said, holding the short sword out to the young boy. "Your father would be horrified if he knew how little time you spend sparring."
Lin took the weapon without objection, though it was also without eagerness. He at least wanted them to see reason, but the traditions of the Long Dau were too set in stone to be questioned. Boys were trained to fight as soon as they were tall enough to wield blades; that was simply the way his world worked.
"The training sessions are going to vary between using a real sword and a wooden sword," Yan said. "You need to take care of both blades."
He fumbled with attaching the hilt to his belt as he followed his uncle away. It was more difficult than it looked and despite the length, the sword still felt heavy to him. He eventually got the weapon in place, though he felt rather foolish with it.
"Keep the sword in its sheath when you're storing it and don't expect to bring it to practice on sparing days. At least not yet."
"The sheath is leather though," Lin said, prompting his uncle to peer over his shoulder at him.
"So?"
Lin hadn't expected the ignorant question. "Well…that's not the right way to store a sword."
"You've hardly used one and you know more?" his uncle asked, sounding entertained.
"Storing a sword in leather promotes corrosion," Lin said, taking on an even tone of voice to avoid seeming too disrespectful. "I read about it when researching Auj Oule's natural metal resources."
"If you were stronger, we could have given you a metal sheath," Yan said, as though to distract from his blunder.
Yan continued his lecture on the training regimens for the rest of the week, information that he supposed he should have been grateful for. His uncle fell silent suddenly when they rounded a corner. Lin was a few steps behind him, but hastened his pace when his uncle stopped. He glanced down at the prince before he resumed walking, albeit quicker than before.
Lin looked down the corridor and his eyes met with Bruno's briefly before he looked toward his mother. He avoided maintaining too much eye contact with Bruno, for just like his father, nearly anything could be misconstrued as disrespectful. His mother didn't have any such beliefs, but he couldn't help but notice differences in her appearance. She usually kept her hair back or up with designs of braids, but despite it being afternoon, it was falling freely around her shoulders.
"Ah, Bruno!" Yan said, though his tone sounded almost too casual. "Coming to see the new trainees?"
"You couldn't pay me to," Bruno said.
His mother looked surprised to see him, but she walked over to him quickly and knelt down before him, smiling as she usually did. "Do you feel ready, Lin?"
"Don't coddle him, Lien," Yan said shortly. "You already made sure he didn't start at seven like his father did."
"It can't be put off any later than eight," Bruno agreed.
"The demands placed upon such small children would make people in Rashugal blanch," she retorted.
"We're not in Rashugal," Yan said, sounding almost amused by the reasoning.
"You have no idea children in the small tribes start training," Bruno said, pausing to smirk, as though he had some grand joke to tell. "There's a rumor that a twelve year old wants to take part in the tournament."
Yan laughed, a seldom heard, rumbling sound. "I hope they have wyvern cubs to enjoy his body, a fully grown wyvern wouldn't even get a meal out of him."
The two brothers shared a laugh, though her only reaction was a look of faint disapproval before she looked back her to her son. She offered some words of reassurance, though they had to be rushed, as Yan was eager to keep on schedule. When he continued on with his uncle, he couldn't connect with any of the looks of eagerness on the other new trainees' faces.
Though so many of the children were just barely tall enough to wield swords, the training was still grueling. They were only given brief breaks to drink water and instructed to carry out strict regimens of strength training. On top of that, Yan was already discussing how soon they would be instructed to spar against each other.
The training left his limbs aching and areas of the skin on his hands rubbed raw from wielding too much in a time frame too short to allow callouses to form.
Regardless, it was a daily requirement for any child born into Long Dau nobility.
~oOo~
Though Karla was once so eager to go to Xian Du, she found herself feeling relieved when they returned to Outway territory. Registration took place several weeks before the actual tournament, giving the hosts of the event time to match up participants and giving the fighters themselves additional time to prepare.
When they reached the town square, where their father waited for them, it was her who he looked at with clouded eyes rather than her brother. She greeted him with an embrace, but he remained distant. She didn't see much more of him throughout the day, as he had a great deal to discuss in her brother.
At the time, she guessed that it was simply because they needed to talk about the tournament, but she became suspicious when Arst woke her up before dawn, with the news that he was finally going to teach her to use a sword. She scrambled to get ready and followed him to a training area farther from the town than his usual ones, though it was difficult for her not to question his sudden change of heart on the matter.
"You need to hold it like this," he instructed, demonstrating the proper grip. "It may only be a short sword, but the way you hold it is still important."
She tried to mimic the grip he showed her, and while she was absolutely certain it was close enough, it evidently wasn't close enough for his liking. He sheathed his blade and came over to adjust the positions of her fingers. She couldn't help but notice that his hands felt rougher than ever, with more callouses from training so constantly.
"Can't you show me with a proper sword?"
"A short blade with be easier for you to hide," he said, his voice calm, despite having to correct her hold for what felt like the dozenth time. "Father wouldn't approve of you learning to fight."
"I don't see why," she sighed. "There are plenty of women among the guards and hunters. I'm sure there are even more in the capital's army."
"It's just not something they wanted for you."
"And why not?"
"They just didn't feel that the daughter of the patriarch should have to learn," he said, trying to end the discussion.
Karla was never one to let a topic die before she got her way. "Then why aren't you honoring their wishes?"
"Auj Oule isn't a peaceful country. You should learn the basics, should your guards ever fail you," he said, stepping back to stand opposite her. "Now, there are specific ways to guard against attacks. I'll show you the best stances."
She listened to his explanation, feeling distracted by how much older he sounded when he spoke about the country so frankly. She followed his instructions but still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew something he wasn't sharing with her. She was left out of politics too often for her liking. She was aware that her father didn't want to force them to grow up any faster than the state of the country pushed them to, but there were times when she was discontent with being shielded.
~oOo~
Lin could always hear them talking about him; his sense of hearing was keen and they simply did not care to go to great lengths to hide their disapproval. Between those two factors, he heard complaints far more often than compliments.
"They're saying he's intelligent, but…" Yan paused, shaking his head.
"He needs to be strong if he's going to control the confederation of mountain clans."
"He isn't strong enough," Yan agreed. "He doesn't win any of the sparring matches between the boys his age."
"A high born son like him should be winning every single one," Lars sighed. "She was barren for years and now we have him."
Part of him did wish that his father wouldn't have said such things if he knew that his son was listening. Unfortunately, his wiser side knew that Lars didn't care to hide his disappointment. He made his dissatisfaction in Lin's progress very clear as they reached the courtyard, where many of the other boys were already warming up. So many of them took on additional practice beyond the regimen requirements, but Lin wasn't one of them.
The sparring match up process was carried out with enough ceremonial nonsense that Lin would have been yawning if the mood was any less tense. He could feel his father's eyes following him as he approached Yan, who had a particularly ornate rapier waiting for the prince. There were gems along the hilt and even a few on the side of the blade, but once the weapon was deposited into Lin's hands, he realize that the added decorations made the blade notably heavier. His arms drooped a few inches when Yan dropped it into his hands, which stirred a scoff from Lars.
"Fight to disarm," Yan instructed. "Each pair will fight three rounds. Whoever wins two or more will be the victor."
The boy Lin was matched against was notably taller and bulkier than he was, even though they were supposedly the same age. They bowed to each other and waited for the signal to come from Yan for the round to start before they drew their weapons. Lin's opponent had a plain sword and drew it easily, while the tip of Lin's dipped as soon as he pulled it from the sheath.
The sloppy draw gave the other boy the perfect chance to lash out with a first strike. Lin tightened his grip on the hilt as he lifted the heavy sword to defend, but the other boy's first attack was a powerful one. Their swords clashed with such force that the downward strike jerked the blade from Lin's hands. A sick feeling rose up in the back of Lin's throat as he looked down to see the sword clattering to the ground.
"Round one is decided! Sheath your blades and return to starting positions," Yan ordered.
Lin could hear a few muffled chuckles from the other trainees and spectators, though he couldn't hear his father's voice among them. He didn't dare to look in his father's direction as he picked the sword back up and returned it to its sheath. He straightened and moved back into position swiftly, just a step ahead of his opponent.
When Yan gave the signal for the second round to begin, Lin was careful not to repeat his initial mistake. He was prepared for the weight of the unfamiliar blade and prepared for a second downward attack from above. The other boy didn't vary his strategy or approach and carried out the same move as before. This time, Lin placed his free hand against the flat of the sword to defend the initial attack with enough strength not to falter.
Realizing that he wouldn't be able to break Lin's guard, the other boy pulled back first. He scowled at Lin as the prince countered with a swift attack that the other boy struggled to evade. Their swords clashed twice more, but each time Lin successfully made an attack, he couldn't put enough force behind the assault to knock the sword from his opponent's grip.
When the other boy struck again, Lin parried the attack then fell back, putting several feet of distance between them in no time. The other boy was surprised that Lin didn't simply counterattack. Lin ducked another attack and turned around, leading his opponent toward the stone edge of the arena. Lin stopped when his back was to the chest high stone edge, but the other boy only saw the movement as a sign that he had Lin cornered.
When he reached Lin, the prince swiped dangerously close to the hilt of his opponent's sword. The close attack was enough to spook the other boy, who quickly responded with an attack from above. Lin made no attempt to guard against the attack and ducked out of the way instead, letting his adversary put the full force of his attack into a blow that simply came down upon the stone. The edge of the blade dug into the rock and when he tried to pull it free, it held fast. Lin straightened, smiling smugly as he stepped back to admire the simple trap.
"Stop!" Lars called out. "Restart the round. Trickery does not constitute victory."
Lin turned around to look toward his father, but the patriarch's expression only burned with disapproval. He searched his father's expression for some trace of sympathy or apology, but he only looked legitimately disappointed. Lin's opponent seemed rather satisfied with the suddenly overturned result, but even as they got back into position, Lin could still feel his father's eyes boring into him.
Sorry for POV jumping so much this chapter! There'll be less next time, I'm trying to get through this leg of the timeline quickly but without rushing too much.
