Training for a knight only brought me pain, blacken’ eyes and cuts. It was hard, but it worth the money my master paid the trainer. Day started with chores, feeding horses, cleaning my chambers, fetching water for the dogs, then the training begun with an angry call of my mentor. There were six of us, young boys too weak to wield swords, too strong for fistfights and daggers.
When master was out to pray, we scampered in the meadows, smiled at the sun, picked the flowers and smashed the grass like it was a Zarian army besieging the black gates of Ildok. What else was expected from the young lads to do in the field. Nights were cold, so we sat around the fires and told stories of the greatest Ildocian heroes that ever lived. We grew strong with the stories of strength, virtue, honor and power that comes with it. To be in the Royal Ildocian Dread Guard was our biggest dream that was just few years away from our grasp. A very fond memories of my childhood.
The thing I remember the most was that scampering in the meadows, scykling the grass like the heroes that mauled the Zarian lines. Soon those memories will be refreshed with the gushing blood of puny soldiers and their cries, silenced with the might of Ildock and power of Royal knights, scampering through them like playful boys.
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