Coen decided that brooding over his circumstances and not moving forward won't lead him anywhere. For starters, he wanted to find something he could put on his naked torso. When he lifted the lid of the capacious chest, Coen was quite surprised by what he saw. Two wooden plaques were dividing its interior into three parts. The first stored a sword and a dagger sheathed in their black scabbards. The other two and contained some neatly folded clothing and a comb for hair in the first, and a chainmail tunic, leathern gauntlets with a wide belt in the other. After some thought, he decided to put on an ocher tunic and underneath it a loose white shirt with wide sleeves tied with leathern straps at their ends. After putting on high leathern boots, he embarked on a stroll around the castle. According to his memories, he was knighted yesterday and was allowed to take a day off. When he was bout to pull the ring serving as a doorknob, there was a knocking on his door.
"Coe... Hrm. Sir Coen. I came to inform you that the quartermaster Ronan summons you to his chambers."
Coen immediately opened the door, and before him stood a young squire. Judging by his looks, he was about 14-15 years old. The boy was nervously glancing behind his shoulder.
"Sure. Lead the way."
Honestly, Coen had no idea what did quartermaster want from him on this day. Passing through the corridors and descending the narrow wooden staircase, he searched his memories for any information about the man he was about to see. Unfortunately, he had no recollection of ever seeing him, and the only things he ever heard were some nasty hearsays.
Coen didn't have to wait long for an opportunity to learn himself what kind of person the quartermaster was.
"Sir, I have brought sir Coen as you wished."
"Great. Get inside." It was a heavy and raspy voice resembling that of a roaring bear.
"Not you, dimwit, Coen! Now get out of here before I pulled yer legs out of yer arse!"
The squire had already stepped into the room, but when he heard the thunderous roar, he ran out with an ashen face, jostling the people passing in the corridor.
"Close the door and come closer, boy."
Coen tore his gaze off the back of the running squire with a surprised expression on his face and closed the door silently so that he may not incur the bear's wrath.
"Sir, you wished to see me."
"Indeed. You are new here so, let me show you around. Oh, and address me as Sir Ronan."
After saying those words, the man lifted himself from behind the heavy oaken desk and strode towards the closet behind him. After opening it, he reached inside and retrieved an earthen jug.
"Damnit. I'll have to refill it again. Never the matter. We will pass by the canteen anyway."
"Follow me, boy."
Said quartermaster after turning his attention back to the person standing beside the door.
"Well... he's quite a peculiar person. Isn't he?"
"Herub? Is it possible for me to know his strength?"
Coen knew that only he could see and hear her. He communicated with her telepathically when there were other people around.
"Sure. Have you forgotten the gifts bestowed upon you by the angel Mashhit? You have the Horus' eyes. They may help you in appraising people and objects, determining the flow of mana, as well as helping you in many other ways I'm not aware of."
Now that Coen thought about it, omitting the white ball of light that got attached to his soul, indeed, he received two black feathers, each glowing with a golden and a silver hue. He didn't know how to use them at the moment. But with Herub's help, he felt like this time might come sooner than he anticipated.
"Oh yeah, now that you mention it... I'll have to find a way to use them when there is an occasion."
"There is also a different way. That angel gave me something called a system. It can be helpful at times. The thing is, I need your consent for every use of it."
"Can't we get rid of this condition somehow?"
"Maybe there is a way. Just none I would know. " there was no anger in her voice. Maybe she didn't care?
"Try to use it then. Tell me about your observations later."
"Alright. As soon as I learn of its uses, I will tell you."
At the time when they finished discussing, the quartermaster opened a big door on their right.
"I bet you have already been here as it's the most visited place in this whole building. Omitting privies, of course." He made a sweeping gesture in the air, showing all the tables and benches placed under the walls.
"Hey! Put yer backs into it, you twerps!" Noticing a few pages cleaning the tables with slow movements, the old knight didn't forget to voice his displeasure. Only then did the young boys take notice of their arrival. The quartermaster, evidently satisfied by their scared expression and hectic movements, went to the cupboard at the back of the room.
"See that ambo over there? Every meal, you will be listening to the "Written history of the Riritia kingdom" our honorable knights will be reading from there."
The dining hall was big. Coen, who had memories of his previous life thought, it was similar in size to the classrooms he saw in schools on Earth. The arcs of the ceiling vault, thick columns placed in even intervals, and tall windows gave him an impression of a gothic refectory of one of the cloisters he once visited on Earth. He couldn't admire this place for long, though, as the raspy voice brought him back from his thoughts.
"Next, I'll show you the training grounds." Sir Ronan placed the wine keg back in the cupboard, grabbed his jug, and walked out of the hall. Coen didn't wait for him to disappear behind the door and followed him outside. After they passed the long corridor and stepped outside, they found themselves on an arcade. From one side, there was a wall with a row of doors, while on the other, evenly placed columns supporting a row of arches. At the end of the passage, there was a staircase leading to the ground level. Now that Coen was outside and only columns were blocking his view, he could see how big was the upper bailey of the royal castle. At the center of the ward was the keep surrounded by a garden consisting of the greenery of neatly trimmed trees and shrubs growing on both sides of the pavements, colorful flowers put into flowerbeds, or encircling the trees and bush as well as the azure of artificial lakes brimming with fish. There were ruins located in the most beautiful spots. The beautiful garden was surrounded by complexes of different buildings and outhouses. Most of them were living quarters for servants, workers and builders maintaining the castle. Depending on a purpose, the outer appearance of the structures differed from each other. The barracks of the guards resembled a small fortress with two small towers and battlements on the roof. Servants' living quarters weren't much different from any ordinary inn one would see in the city beyond the castle walls. Storages and workshops had a form of long, one-story buildings with stone fundaments and wooden walls.
When Coen and quartermaster Ronan arrived at the training guards, the old knight took a sip from the jug and started explaining:
"We - knights train our bodies and minds. For the bodies, we have this place. As for the minds, ask the scholars."
His thick finger pointed at the courtyard, where around a hundred people could be seen.
"As you can see, the people training here are divided into three groups. Pages and squires train under the guidance of the experienced champions. While the knights mostly train at their own pace. Those who are eager to receive more thrashing than their colleagues ask for help from the masters."
They passed the shouting men and arrived at a long building attached perpendicularly to the main structure of the headquarters.
"See those doors?" Sir Ronan pointed at the row of wooden gates.
"Those are the storage rooms and an armory. Well, that's about everything I have to tell you. Take a stroll around the premises if you want. Ah! The rules! There would be no fun without them. Right? Show respect to your elders, try not to kill anyone, no yelling in the corridors, show up in the refectory, and pay attention to what they say on the lectures." Saying those words, the quartermaster gave a beastly smile, patted Coen's shoulder, and started walking back to the headquarters.
Now that Sir Ronan left him alone, he decided to take a stroll in the garden. He wanted to relax in the greenery as he spent half his life on Earth in a forest of buildings in a city, where the trees were scarce. There were no birds. His ears got used to the constant noise of cars and the humming of machinery. He even noticed that his hand was automatically searching for his smartphone from time to time. Coen was getting further and further from the premises of the knights' quarters. The voices of the training people gradually gave way to the sound of rustling leaves and the chirping of the birds.
"Coen, are you sure it's okay to just walk around like this?" Herub asked with a worried voice
"No need to be worried. It's not a prison, after all. In addition, I'm a noble."
As he was getting closer to the keep, he started spotting more and more people strolling leisurely along the pavements in the garden. The ladies of the court, wives and daughters of the noble dwellers of the castle, in tow with their servants, were walking around in groups chatting among themselves.