3rd Day of Spring, 515 AD
Early Morning
With a slow yawn, Eren Turna resigned himself to a long day of discomfort in the saddle. Transferring the reigns to a single hand, he leaned forward to give his horse an idle scratch behind the ear, and the chestnut mare snorted happily at his touch. When Farkus Gornidas spoke, it was with a casual confidence, and he turned an inquisitive eye towards the squire.
"You've never been to Mithryn before, have you boy?" His own horse was an old, grey stallion, though Farkus would argue that the animal's instincts more than made up for it's comparative lack of speed.
"No, I can't say I have," Eren replied smoothly, holding no doubt that Farkus was well aware of the fact. Straightening his back, he returned the older knight's curious gaze. Such a basic piece of information hardly merited verbal confirmation, he thought.
"I see," Farkus said, nodding once before returning his attention to the road ahead. For a long moment, silence stretched between the pair, disturbed only by the gentle clopping of their horse's hooves. Eren's eyes widened, and he felt an eyebrow twitch.
Farkus was tight lipped. Despite being squired to the older knight for almost three years, it was the only thing Eren felt he could confidently state about the man. There was an air of mystery about him, and Eren found it irritating. Gone were the days when he would argue that particular point, however. Closing his eyes, Eren took a single, deep breath. Recently, his patron had been somewhat more responsive when Eren tried to weasel answers out of him, though only if he was clever about doing so. The message was clear: useful information did not come easily.
"So, what's in Mithryn?" Eren asked causally, keeping his eyes on the road and taking care to look as uninterested as possible.
"At the outpost?" Farkus replied cheerfully. "Lots of things, really. Farms, houses; a cabbage or two, I'd imagine."
"I see," Eren said, mimicking his patron's earlier display of nonchalance. Returning to their shared silence, the pair made steady progress, their horses slowly eating up the miles. An icy whisper of wind caressed Eren's cheek, sending a shiver down the young man's spine. Morwen's touch still lingered, it seemed. In time, Syna rose, and her golden glow swept away the pale grey of early morning.
"Surely there'd be more than that," Eren said abruptly; it had been well over a bell since he'd last spoken.
"More... what, exactly?" Farkus asked, sounding almost amused.
"Cabbages," Eren replied simply, struggling to keep emotion from crawling onto his face. Farkus turned to study the squire with unmasked scrutiny, raised eyebrow and all.
"Cabbages?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes, cabbages." From a nearby thicket came an explosion of black feathers, and all sound was drowned out by the chilling cacophony of cawing that accompanied the event.
Crows, Eren deduced, easily recognising the bird's trademark call. Throughout it all, his patron's gaze bore into him, and a trecherous bead of nervous sweat threatened to slither down his forehead.
"Okay, I'll bite," Farkus eventually said when the noise subsided. "What in Sylir's name are you on about, boy?"
"You said there might be a cabbage or two at the Mithryn Outpost, right?" Eren turned an innocent expression towards his patron as he spoke.
"I may have said something along those lines," Farkus replied, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Well, surely there'd be more than that." Eren nodded his head as if to confirm his own words.
"More... cabbages?"
"Cabbages, yes."
"Eren..." Farkus stated slowly, his voice slipping into a dangerous tone, "What's your point?" Eren couldn't be sure if the frustration he saw refelected in the older knight's eyes was genuine. With Farkus, it was almost impossible to tell.
Too late to back down now, though.
"Well, I was just wondering why you'd lie to me like that," Eren said, trying to sound sincerely hurt by the fabricated betrayal of his patron. After a few ticks of further silence, Farkus started laughing.
"Not bad, kid," he said between guffaws. "Not bad at all." Eren wasn't sure whether to feel disappoitned or smug at the development, and ended up settling for a bit of both.
"So, you'll tell me then?" Eren asked hopefully.
"Tell you what?" Farkus replied, a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.
"What's really in Mithryn? Why are we going there?"
"Oh, that," Farkus said, shrugging away the importance of his answer. "That's where you'll be living from now on."
Early Morning
With a slow yawn, Eren Turna resigned himself to a long day of discomfort in the saddle. Transferring the reigns to a single hand, he leaned forward to give his horse an idle scratch behind the ear, and the chestnut mare snorted happily at his touch. When Farkus Gornidas spoke, it was with a casual confidence, and he turned an inquisitive eye towards the squire.
"You've never been to Mithryn before, have you boy?" His own horse was an old, grey stallion, though Farkus would argue that the animal's instincts more than made up for it's comparative lack of speed.
"No, I can't say I have," Eren replied smoothly, holding no doubt that Farkus was well aware of the fact. Straightening his back, he returned the older knight's curious gaze. Such a basic piece of information hardly merited verbal confirmation, he thought.
"I see," Farkus said, nodding once before returning his attention to the road ahead. For a long moment, silence stretched between the pair, disturbed only by the gentle clopping of their horse's hooves. Eren's eyes widened, and he felt an eyebrow twitch.
Farkus was tight lipped. Despite being squired to the older knight for almost three years, it was the only thing Eren felt he could confidently state about the man. There was an air of mystery about him, and Eren found it irritating. Gone were the days when he would argue that particular point, however. Closing his eyes, Eren took a single, deep breath. Recently, his patron had been somewhat more responsive when Eren tried to weasel answers out of him, though only if he was clever about doing so. The message was clear: useful information did not come easily.
"So, what's in Mithryn?" Eren asked causally, keeping his eyes on the road and taking care to look as uninterested as possible.
"At the outpost?" Farkus replied cheerfully. "Lots of things, really. Farms, houses; a cabbage or two, I'd imagine."
"I see," Eren said, mimicking his patron's earlier display of nonchalance. Returning to their shared silence, the pair made steady progress, their horses slowly eating up the miles. An icy whisper of wind caressed Eren's cheek, sending a shiver down the young man's spine. Morwen's touch still lingered, it seemed. In time, Syna rose, and her golden glow swept away the pale grey of early morning.
"Surely there'd be more than that," Eren said abruptly; it had been well over a bell since he'd last spoken.
"More... what, exactly?" Farkus asked, sounding almost amused.
"Cabbages," Eren replied simply, struggling to keep emotion from crawling onto his face. Farkus turned to study the squire with unmasked scrutiny, raised eyebrow and all.
"Cabbages?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes, cabbages." From a nearby thicket came an explosion of black feathers, and all sound was drowned out by the chilling cacophony of cawing that accompanied the event.
Crows, Eren deduced, easily recognising the bird's trademark call. Throughout it all, his patron's gaze bore into him, and a trecherous bead of nervous sweat threatened to slither down his forehead.
"Okay, I'll bite," Farkus eventually said when the noise subsided. "What in Sylir's name are you on about, boy?"
"You said there might be a cabbage or two at the Mithryn Outpost, right?" Eren turned an innocent expression towards his patron as he spoke.
"I may have said something along those lines," Farkus replied, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Well, surely there'd be more than that." Eren nodded his head as if to confirm his own words.
"More... cabbages?"
"Cabbages, yes."
"Eren..." Farkus stated slowly, his voice slipping into a dangerous tone, "What's your point?" Eren couldn't be sure if the frustration he saw refelected in the older knight's eyes was genuine. With Farkus, it was almost impossible to tell.
Too late to back down now, though.
"Well, I was just wondering why you'd lie to me like that," Eren said, trying to sound sincerely hurt by the fabricated betrayal of his patron. After a few ticks of further silence, Farkus started laughing.
"Not bad, kid," he said between guffaws. "Not bad at all." Eren wasn't sure whether to feel disappoitned or smug at the development, and ended up settling for a bit of both.
"So, you'll tell me then?" Eren asked hopefully.
"Tell you what?" Farkus replied, a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.
"What's really in Mithryn? Why are we going there?"
"Oh, that," Farkus said, shrugging away the importance of his answer. "That's where you'll be living from now on."