SETVER 15TH YEAR 548 ASMERIAN CALENDAR
His armor flashed a reflection of the sun into his eyes and it left spots in his vision. He had to rub his eyes from being blinded by the polished steel. His chainmail armor didn't even compare to this set of arms. It was crafted by a veteran of the trade and the construction of the armor was equal to that of his uncles. It didn't have a torso section but that didn't concern him. As he picked up the helmet, he finally noticed all of the little details and engravings that were lost when to the sun's reflection.
"A smith by the name of Samuel Wester constructed this set of armor. He's not as well know for commissions or smithing, but he is one of the better armor smith's in Asmeria and a senator non the less." Connor said as he stood up and took a moment to show off the armor suite to his son.
"Thank you so much, father!" Jackson said as he embraced Connor and was awed at the armor before him. The helmet was a simple traditional design, it was a 'Great Helmet' with a brass inlay that made up most of the decoration on the helmet. It displayed the Asmerian Sun under each eye slit.
It wasn't long before he had the armor on and was practicing with the sword his uncle gave him. The armor was heavier than he thought it would've been, however, it didn't restrict any of his movements or pinch him in any way. "Father watch me!" He shouted with joy. He ran a few steps then jumped forwards and rolled as he hit the ground. "Did you see that? I can roll and jump like the armor isn't even there, father!" He exclaimed as he swung his extremities around in a joyful spasm.
"I see, but be careful to not hurt yourself. You need to be able to fight in the swordsmanship competition." Connor was sitting on the porch with Alice. Bound to her wheelchair, she was a depressed soul, even if she didn't show it.
"I will father," Jackson replied, holding his sword high.
A few hours passed and Connor watched Jackson in astonishment as the armor didn't seem to wear on him at all and his mastery of swordsmanship was astonishing. However, the smell of a smoking hot diner cut Jackson's fun short as Veronica called everyone inside to feast. The night ended with cleaned plates and Jackson carrying Alice upstairs. He set her down in her bed and then he threw himself back on his bed.
"It was fun watching you use your armor, Jack," She said as she reached over and grabbed her pillow.
"I didn't know, it'll be more fun watching me win in the festival." He responded with glee and excitement, it wouldn't be his first tournament but it would be the first his mother and father witnessed.
"I can't wait for it Jack, with how you were in the capital, no one stands a chance against you."
"Good night Alice, and thank you." He said blowing out the candle burning on his nightstand.
"Good night Jack."
Jackson woke up and walked down to the central plaza; it had been two weeks since he had moved in. He spent most of his time training and getting accustomed to his new plate armor. He was used to wearing chainmail which was a little lighter and more flexible than plate armor but gave less protection against stabbing and arrows. However, the feeling, oh the feeling of wearing actual armor was exhilarating to him. He felt a step closer to his uncle James and his goal of knighthood. What more could a thirteen-year-old boy wish for? He had also met with Mister Miller a handful of times and was on his way to meet with him again.
It was a perfect day for walking throughout town, he stopped by many different shops and vendors on his way to the plaza where Miller would be meeting him. One stall caught his attention, it was owned by a Luccian trader selling knives and daggers. His uncle James always used a dagger with his sword in a psyduo-duel wielding form where instead of another sword, his uncle used the dagger. He was also checked out some of his competition for the swordsmanship event. The rules of the event made it fair for most of the younger competitors who were taking part in the event.
The winner would be declared once the first strike made it past the opponent's defense was achieved, and it would be the best of five rounds. So, the first to win three rounds would be the winner of their bracket. From what he had seen, there were seven brackets over two days of fighting. Overall, there were ninety-six competitors including Jackson who was the youngest of them all. He'd be lucky to make it past the first round of fighting but all seven would be near impossible.
Jackson didn't concern himself with such trivial things such as the odds of him winning. He just wanted to have fun and enjoy the event for what it was. A chance to beat the hell out of people with swords and have absolutely no repercussions and have his family watch. That was just as good of a reward as any, or at least that's what his uncle would say.
He sat down by the fountain with the knight's statue and waited for Mister Miller to arrive. He was also taking part in the competition and could also even fight against Jackson in the final bracket. Jackson saw him walking down the street towards the fountain. He was wearing the same straw hat and overalls except this time he had a blue shirt on and was carrying a long object wrapped in cloth.
"Hello there, Mister Miller!" Jackson shouted so that he could hear him from the fountain.
"Hey, lad!" Miller shouted. "The hell you yellin' for, there ain't a damned soul out here so I could've heard ya just fine." He shook his head and pulled a package from behind his back
"Sorry Mister Miller, just happy to see you," Jackson said noticing the strange package but paying it no mind.
"Yer always happy to see me, lad," Miller said. "I've got something for ya."
"Really?" He said, now attentively at the gift, it was plain to see it was a sword by the shape but he acted as if he was none the wiser.
"Well, only if ya win the event, we're taking part in." Mister Miller explained.
"What is it?" Jackson asked, though, anyone could tell.
"T'is a Gregorian long sword that was given to me by my friend who was a Gregorian soldier when he retired. He said he had no need for it and that I could find it a better home than he ever could and whatnot. So, if you can prove to me that you're skilled with the sword, then it's yers." Miller unwrapped the word to reveal a beautiful long sword with a black blade. "The blade is made from a metal that can only be found in western Gregorian mines. It's the only metal that appears black when polished."
"What is it called?" He asked as he furrowed his brow.
"It's peiron and is a little more durable than yer average steel swords." Jackson looked at the blade with awe and admiration. Jackson reached to grab the sword but Mister Miller pulled it out of reach.
"Careful lad, it's very sharp and also heavier than yer average sword," Miller said as he held it back out for Jackson to take.
"I understand sir," Jackson said as he grabbed hold of the hilt of the weapon. It was only moderately heavier than a regular steel sword, but it could prove to be exhausting after a long fight.
It was almost twice as heavy as his long sword. It had a beautiful cross guard with various engravings and a pummel that flawlessly transitioned into the grip that was wrapped in dark leather. The silver chrome of the cross-guard and pommel contrasted perfectly with the black peiron. Jackson looked straight into the blade and saw that his reflection was pitch black, not a hint of light reflected off of the polished blade.
This caught the attention of Miller whose reflection had color to it but Jackson was black as could be. He took the blade back from Jackson and wrapped it with haste. "What is it, Mister Miller?" Jackson asked.
"Oh, think nothing of it," Miller said as he wrapped the sword back up in the cloth. "If you win the event it's yours, but nothing less than a first-place finish will earn you a blade this fine."
"I understand and I will do my best to win."
"Atta-boy!" Miller said. "So, what did you want to see for today anyways."
"Oh, I almost forgot. Would you come over for dinner tonight? We're having a roast and a lot of other great food that my mother prepared."
"Do yer mother and father know that ya invited me?" Miller asked as he narrowed his eyes. "In Gregoria, it's rude to invite anyone without the master of the household knowing there's been an invitation sent."
"Yes, they said that you're more than welcome to join us."
"Very well, it'd be rude to decline. Besides, I've not had a proper dinner with anyone for a few months now." Miller smiled.
"Really?"
"That is what happens when ya live alone lad. I was thinking about buying a slave just so I'd have some company." Jested Miller.
"Oh, why didn't you?"
"I'm not a fan of the idea of owning someone for my own pleasure."
"I feel the same way. My father always says that people aren't property."
"I'm glad, in Gregoria, you're only allowed to own a slave for a few years then you have to release them once their debt or crime has been paid for. Whereas in Asmeria, once you've been bought that's it, you're property until you've been given your freedom."
"I feel bad for the slaves," Jackson added as he looked down to his feet.
"As you should lad. So, when should I come over to your place?"
"Oh, you can just follow me if you'd like."
"Then lead on lad."
Jackson stood up from the fountain and started down the street. A lot of people had come out since Jackson and Miler had started talking. Everyone was setting up their shops and homes for the festival that was fast approaching the town.
On their way to Jackson's house, they passed the slave market. It wasn't that busy so Jackson looked to see how many slaves were being sold. There was a family huddled up and a few young men. There were also young women being sold as prostitutes. Their cries and sorrow filled the air like a horrible stench that made him turn ill. He just turned his head and kept walking. Miller also dared not watch as the slaves were sold. It was easier to just put it out of sight and out of mind. Jackson picked up his pace and almost entered a jog until he could no longer hear the slave's cries.
Jackson and Miller approached Jackson's house and the sweet smell of freshly made food was a relief to the two. Connor and Alice were waiting on the front porch. Alice waved to Jackson and had a smile that reached from ear to ear. Connor was resting in a rocking chair with a hat over his eyes. "That your father?" Miller asked.
"Yes sir, today's my birthday so I'm glad you came."
"You've said nothing bout' yer birthday lad," Miller said now tucking the peiron sword underneath his arm.
"Sorry, I didn't know if Gregorian's celebrated birthdays or not."
"Just what kind of people do you think we Gregorians are lad?" Miller said as he took his hat and planted it on Jackson's head.
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you." He laughed as he pushed the straw hat off his head and handed it joyfully back to Miller.
"It's fine lad, so you're turning fourteen, right?"
"Yes, sir, I am indeed!"
"That's quite a milestone there lad. Soon you'll have to marry a young lass and start yer own family before too long."
"It is, isn't it," Connor said as he approached the gate. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm assuming you're this Mister Miller I've been hearing about for the past few weeks." Connor extended out his hand for a handshake.
"Yes, thank you for allowing me to come and have dinner with ya," Miller said as he reached out to shake Connor's hand.
"No problem, Jackson's been telling me about you and the Gregoria so I figured you'd be good company." He opened the gate and let the two in.
"Thanks again, and yer son has also been telling me about yer crazy adventures with Elves and your wife and everything in between," Miller said as he followed Jackson and Connor to the front porch. Miller was impressed with their home, it was a rather upper-class homestead. To be expected of a Scottkey, moreover, it was the former lord's residence.
"Well, I've had my fair share of adventures, that's for sure," Connor said as he opened the gate. "Please come and make yourself at home. My daughter, Alice, is up there on the porch waiting for Jack."
"I better not keep her waiting," Jackson said as he rushed up to meet her.
"So, what do you have here?" Connor asked about the package wrapped in cloth.
"I made a little deal with your son regarding the event we're both competing in."
"Oh, I think I should hear a little more about this deal of yours. Why don't we talk about it on the porch where it's more comfortable and out of the sun?" Connor said as he gestured towards the porch.
"Sure," Miller said as he walked up to the porch. There were a few rocking chairs out on the porch and Miller took a seat I one. "These are quite comfortable," Miller said admiring the craftsmanship of the rocking chairs.
"I'm pleased to hear that. I paid fourteen Asmerian Silver's for these, so, I'd be rather displeased if they weren't good for sitting on." Connor said as he sat down and grabbed his cup of tea. "So, tell me about this deal between you and my son."
"Well, I received this beautiful sword and I simply told him that if he won it was his to own," Miller said as he held out the peiron sword to Connor.
"I see, let's take a look at this blade then," Connor said as he took the sword wrapped in cloth away from Miller. Connor began to unwrap the cloth and his jaw dropped once he saw the peiron blade shine in the sunlight. "This can't be," Connor said in awe.
"It is, a Gregorian peiron long sword worth a hundred Caston gold coins."
"What in the hell would possess you to give such a sword to my son?" Connor asked in shock.
"Simple, there are two reasons, I no longer will require such a weapon as I'm retired." He paused, "And I saw his reflection in the blade," Miller said.
"What do you mean by that?" Connor asked, quite confused.
"There's a legend about peiron blades in Gregoria," Miller said. "It reflects one's ability to use magic and the sword. There are many different types of reflections in the blade. There's blue, red, green, and silver, but your son's reflection was pure black. Mine was normal in the same light so I know the sun wasn't behind him and it just so happened to be a silhouette of the lad." He said as he wrapped the blade back up in the cloth.
"So, then what does that mean for my son?"
"Don't know, as far as I'm aware, there's never been a pure black image or at least to my limited knowledge on peiron. I'd have to confer my father who makes these blades in Gregoria."
"So. you're willing to just give it to him?"
"I'm not just handing it to him, he's got to earn it, but you're right, I am prepared to give it to him."
"Very well then, I have the utmost confidence in my son's ability to earn this sword after all." Connor laughed.
"As do I." The two men laughed on the porch and stayed to watch the sunset. The sky turned a beautiful bright pink and violet then turned to a dark lavender as the sun dipped past the horizon. They then entered the house and had a wonderful dinner. The night ended with Mister Miller saying his goodbyes and going home with the peiron sword. "Miller, our door's always open for you, come over anytime," Veronica said as she said her goodbyes.
Jackson carried Alice upstairs and put her to bed and finished his schoolwork for the day. Jackson went to bed a year older and happier than before. However, the black blade haunted his dreams with the cries of war and bloodshed. He awoke from Alice shaking him. "Are you okay Jack?" She asked.
"I'll be fine Alice, just a bad dream is all." He sighed rolling onto his back.
"Are you sure?" She asked her face with the only expression of concern.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I have them all the time." Jackson said as he rolled over and pulled the sheets over him.