Chapter 3: Initiation Ceremony of the Rite of Passage
4 years later
Dawn broke out, her fingers reaching as far as the Cousland Castle and beyond. The yellow light, wherever it could get through the clouds, shone into Hadrian's room and he made a noise, trying to get away from the bright glare. He pulled at the covers that had fallen around his waist earlier in the night and tried to cover his head. Unfortunately, he hadn't known that Fergus painted the covers with whipped cream and there was a soft 'splift' sound when the cover went over his head, covering his face with white stuff.
"Maker's balls, Fergus!" Hadrian shouted hoarsely, his frustration growing at being woken so rudely by the sun and then given a sticky surprise for his birthday. His oldest brother hadn't done anything to him, prank-wise, for the past week or so. Hadrian had a feeling that he was just biding his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Of course Fergus had to something for his birthday and Hadrian was going to get some payback.
The poor Cousland grumbled curses when he found the whipped cream to be everywhere, even in his groin. He gave up trying to get back to sleep and ignore the stickiness. Instead, he let out a sound of frustration and got out of bed. There was a knock on the door and he grunted a reply, "yeah, if you don't mind seeing me naked with white cream all over my arse,"
It wasn't Fergus at the door but his mother and Hadrian knew he was in big trouble for using foul language, even at a young age. Getting over her initial shock at seeing her naked son, Hadrian could tell that she was getting angry by the deepening redness on her cheeks, the vein almost popping out of her forehead. She was tolerant of many things, but never foul language and she probably heard his first curse of the day.
"Hadrian, your brother's," she stopped for a second and Hadrian was afraid that she either was going to slap across the cheek or faint dead away from seeing her son covered in the most expensive whipped cream they had at home. She took a deep breath and marched towards him, her intent in punishing him clear in her green eyes. He winced at her raised hand but the smack never came. Instead, the hand was gently clasping his cheek, in a spot where there wasn't any cream. Confused by her actions, he looked at her in puzzlement and saw a smile on her face.
"It appears that your brother gave you a present and I will excuse your usage of foul language so early in the morning for today. It is your birthday in fact."
"Errmm..." Hadrian didn't know what to say to that and his feet shuffled awkwardly.
His mother was acting rather strangely and before he could say anything, she kissed him on the forehead and left the room. She glanced at him one more time and shook her head.
"Of all the creams we had, he had to use the most expensive one!" She exclaimed, "well, clean yourself off and come to the Antechamber. Your father has something special for you."
The door shut behind her. Luckily for Hadrian, he had his own cleaning room. Twenty minutes later, fully refreshed and feeling clean, the young Cousland hurried to where his father was. Fergus was there, a stupid smile plastered on his pale face. His parents stood in front of the large fireplace, with his father quirking an eyebrow at him. Damn! Did I miss a spot? Hadrian hastily looked down at his silk tunic but there was nothing to be found. Fergus' shit-eating grin just grew larger at his little brother's flusters and he truly made a big effort in not just bursting out in laughter. Poor Hadrian! He has no idea what he's in for! Hadrian threw a glare at him but he strolled inside the chamber, trying not to look at Fergus.
"It appears that Hadrian received his first present," Bryce's voice rumbled and Hadrian could hear it held a hint of amusement. "However, unto serious matters. Today is when you start becoming a man. As you probably observed from Fergus' thirteenth winter's harvests, you will know that two items will be given to you: a sword of the finest make," Bryce offered the sword that was in its scabbard to his youngest with two hands and the Cousland's head bowed in thanks.
"This sword has been handed down from generation to generation. In fact it was the sword of King Calenhad himself before he gave it to our ancestor as a gift."
True to Bryce's words, the sword was of excellent quality as Hadrian could see from the unusual brilliance in the dragonbone material when he withdrew it partway to see the blade. Even the scabbard was made of the finest material. He could feel it hum through his fingers when he caressed the markings on it. The scabbard was decorated with vines wrapping themselves around it, starting from the tip and stretching all the way to the hilt of the sword. He rubbed his fingers over the visage of a wolf that was etched right below the spot where the sword met the hilt. The wolf was the symbol of the Cousland, although he didn't know why exactly. Yes, he had been told of how his ancestor saved a wolf and perhaps that spurred him to honour it by emblazoning its face on the shields of Highever. However, why go to such lengths in doing so? The other nobles had the outlines of animals scoured into their own weapons and shields, but Hadrian hadn't heard of any particular tales behind it. He had read of one book though that mentioned a very old Order, one that spawned from the wars with the Tevinter Imperium. This Order respected the griffons and it was easily visible through the noble features of the animal. Every claw, every limb would drawn in great detail.
It seemed as if his parents were waiting for him to clearly revere his gift because when he looked up at his father, he was waiting patiently with his mother at his side, something small in her hands. She approached him as Bryce started to say:
"And an amulet that contains our locks of hair. Ariala magically imbued the amulet to where if you touch a particular lock, it will provide you with an image of its owner."
His mother reached out around his neck and clasped the necklace into place under his still silver hair. Unlike Fergus', it had not darken with age. Fergus' hair turned into a charcoal shade of black around his age and Hadrian wondered if there was any significance to his silver strands. Again, Hadrian had noticed that there was a visage of a wolf etched on the front and back of the silver amulet. What was with all these symbols of the wolf? Was there something his parents weren't telling him? Did Fergus know somehow? His mother kissed him on both cheeks, causing him to blush at being given such attention. He was a man now. He didn't want to be given any kisses by his mother or anyone else.
Eleanor Cousland knew what her boy was thinking as soon as she observed his cheeks redden with embarrassment. Just like Fergus! Her boys were growing up so fast and it felt like as if it was only yesterday that Hadrian was born into this world, into her family. She stepped back and returned to Bryce's side, to let her husband finish what he had to say.
"To complete your rite of passage, you will have to do two things: to enter the woods and bring back a rare flower. It will have yellow petals but with a purple centre. The flower blooms only once a year and in the spring months. The other part is to participate in the Summermere Tournament, where all other nobles will gather and compete for the Championship of Arms."
By the Maker, I wish I was ten years old still! So many chores to do! An elbow jabbed him in the ribs and he straightened up immediately, although not without giving Fergus a returning blow.
"You will enter the woods early in the morning tomorrow for it will take you all day to find this flower. Seven guards are to be posted outside the gates and if you do not return in time, then there will be a search party. Mind you, if that's the case, you will have to live in the woods for sometime."
At first Hadrian thought his father to be joking after making that statement but his father's eyes were very serious. After the Initiative Ceremony of his Manhood, he hung out with Fergus, to get some advice on how to do this without having to spend a night in the Breckland Woods.
"I'll tell you a secret, little brother," Fergus managed to say in between sword thrusts and parries. "the flower grows in the Clearing. I wondered why Father didn't tell you but maybe he has his reasons. Maybe he doesn't want you eating all the food again at supper time."
There was a sound of a metal clashing with another metal and it came from a sword colliding with a shield. Hadrian pushed the sword out of the way with his small Veridium shield and stepped forward to lunge at his brother with his wooden sword.
"The Clearing? I thought we weren't supposed to go there, on pain of death I hear," Hadrian panted and he had to quickly block another strike from his brother.
"Only the direct descendants of the Couslands can go there and even for us, only at certain times of our lives. Like the Rite of Passage. Nice parry,"
"Well, it's almost dusk and I better get some sleep in before tomorrow morning."
Fergus agreed and both brothers saluted to each other as an indication of the match's end. They went up to their rooms and upon entering his, Hadrian discovered a note lying on his bed. It was in cursive writing and quite elegant too. He picked it up and his eyes perused the message, which read as the following:
Dear Hadrian,
I am to understand that you will be leaving the Castle very early on the morne.
Your parents have told me of your quest and I wish you good luck in your endeavors.
I know mine was quite hard to finish but the effort was worth the attentions.
My Father and the rest of us are coming down to visit you tomorrow; your mother
wanted to throw a surprise party when you come back from the Woods but I guess you know now.
Don't get lost on the way,
Kind regards,
Nate HoweSo the Howes will be coming in after he's done? It would be good to see the other boys again and Delilah too. For some odd reasons, his mother was sorely attempting to arrange events solely around them and he didn't know what to make of that. It's not like he didn't like the girls but they always made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Their stares, the annoying chatter and gossip would irritate him to no end. Plus, there would be that awful smell clinging to them. Sometimes the urge to throw up would well up in his stomach and he would have to politely excuse himself from the company.
Delilah was an exception to most noblewomen; she was quiet and demure, despite having two older brothers. Then again, it wouldn't do to have three boisterous children, especially if one was a girl. However, she too smelled off to him but he never told her that, out of fear of hurting the girl's feelings. If his own brother was fiercely overprotective of him, he can't imagine facing the wrath of two overprotective brothers. Thomas Howe was not known for his mercies. Nate Howe, though placed at the opposite end of the spectrum of his brother's, was equally overprotective of his sister and there were tales of nobles having sticky, non-violent ends. He does roughhouse with his friends but his eyes had that understanding too. He had good ears and paid close attention to whoever was venting their problems to him. Most guys Hadrian knew would just have that glazed expression and then ask a stupid question after the conversation, one to where if the speaker could repeat himself or herself in most cases.
He had always liked the youngest Howe, who was only two years older than him, and he had a nice smell associated with him, a smell of fresh leather and soap. Wait, why am I thinking of him that way? Hadrian did not like where his thoughts were going and brushed it off as results of exhaustion and stress of the day. Yes, he will try to spend some time with Delilah, as awful as that may be. With that thought in mind, he clambered into his small but cozy bed and his eyes shut, the last image being of Nate Howe with that trademark smirk on his face.
Preview of Chapter 4: Hadrian sets out for the Breckland Woods to find the flower and encounters a strange animal.