Information swirled through Arthur's mind. It was like the man had just flipped a switch in the young man's head.
Different possibilities and variations of warrior teams went through his mind. Arthur, all of a sudden, could come up with various requirements and specifications he'd need from the different members of a party.
All parts of the single whole except one, the leader. The white-haired prince couldn't tell what the leader was supposed to do… or what they were required to know.
He knew the leader was meant to coordinate everything… but beyond that, the prince was at a loss. Thinking more about it only gave him some sort of a headache.
'Me… A leader?' he pondered the old man's suggestion.
Arthur wanted to drop to the ground and give this a lot of thought. However, something in the man's tone told him there was no time to think through everything.
Then again, he was not sure what kind of skills he'd been honing in his near-century existence. He only knew that he was a pretty decent fighter… but that didn't say much for his skills as a scout, archer or vanguard… let alone a leader.
Arthur couldn't say he knew how to coordinate a squad. He'd never really done that before.
"I… I don't know," was his answer, "Is it compulsory for me to give an answer?"
"No… no, it isn't. Neither is it a must for you to pick between becoming a Warrior or a Guardian," the old man replied.
"Oh, great. It felt like I was making a rushed decision… And I had no clue what to choose. What do I do now?" Arthur asked.
"Pick your weapon. Beyond that, you'll know what to do," the bearded man announced with a hint of finality.
He waited in silence for the prince to make his choice. Arthur walked around the room, somewhat on edge.
'Why do I feel like something bad is about to happen?' Arthur threw a glance at the man standing away from him.
'Hmm…'
Turning back to the weapons, the prince continued to study them, making sure not to touch any as he walked up and down the tables. Now he felt like simply touching any of these weapons would signify that he'd chosen it.
Something was odd about all these weapons. They were all expertly crafted and wonderful weapons. Merely looking at them filled the prince with the assurance that they would feel right in his hands… but that's what kept him from touching any as well.
What kind of weapon called out to the person looking at it?
It didn't make sense to him and yet he'd been asked to pick one. What choice was the right one?
As he went through the weapons, he noticed a similarity they all had. Somewhere on each of them, whether it was the shaft of a bow, the flat of a blade or the handle of a well-crafted spear, there were runes engraved in them.
"The weapons all have enchantments carved into them," the old man mentioned.
"You could have told me that sooner, you know…" the prince paused and sighed, "Or is that part of the test as well?"
"You're clever. That's good."
Arthur sighed, his eyes settling on a group of spears, 'I don't know about me being 'clever',' the prince sighed.
The spear or more commonly known as 'the lance' was his favourite weapon. One that he knew how to use like he knew to walk. He stared at the lances, admiring their designs.
Some of them had the simplest of designs, a long wooden shaft with a pointed end while others were a lot more intricate, a long powerful shaft with numerous runes, ending with a curved sword-like blade at the end instead of a tip.
Some of them had blades as long as their handles making the prince cringe at the poor souls that would wield them. "There wouldn't happen to be a chance of you telling me what these runes mean?"
The silence told the prince all he needed to know. He was not going to get anywhere like this.
The Sorting…
Its name was just as mysterious as its nature.
No one was ever told what would happen during the Sorting, so even as he stood in front of a multitude of weapons, he knew not what he would be using them for.
Were they going to assess him for his fighting abilities or were they going to send him somewhere to fight against some powerful beast?
Was he going to verse another one of the First Years in some tournament and fight for the position of Hunter? The First Years that made it into the Hunter Course were few compared to those that dreamed of joining, after all.
'The Hunters like to know what you're abilities are, huh… To know which class you fit in. All these classes have one thing in common…
One requires a strong enough mental fortitude to endure the ugly cruel reality of battle. They would have to prove they had what it takes to take up arms and fight when called for…
That's what it meant to be a Hunter. To protect the people within the Wall with everything they had.'
Arthur randomly thought as his eyes scanned the rows of lances.
This realisation allowed Arthur to make a choice in what group of lances he would be using.
The white-haired now stood before five spears that were almost identical. The five spears all had long straight shafts, straightened and rounded for omnidirectional purposes.
At the tip was a double-edged short diamond-shaped blade, starting wide before extending and tapering into a sharp tip a foot and a half long.
The only difference the lances had with each other was the runes carved into their shafts.
Arthur studied the runes to no avail.
He couldn't tell what the runes meant at all. But something about the one on the right spoke to him. Something about it resonated deep within him…
It spurred the sleeping phoenix flame core within him.
Arthur had minimal experience with this type of lance… but that's not what made him choose it. The blade simply called out to him the most as though promising to burn down all his enemies.
"I'll take this one," the prince announced, picking the adamantine weapon from its stand.
Just as he picked it up, the familiar glow of a Teleportation Circle filled the corners of his vision.
'Just like I thought.'
The prince turned to see the man standing at the far end of the room. For the first time since meeting the old man, he realised something very vital, "I didn't get your name, Professor."
The man turned to face him right before the prince was blinded by the amber glow. However, right before his sight was completely overtaken, he thought he saw the man… smile fondly at him.
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While the light of magic enveloped him, the prince decided to analyse the little bits of information he'd received. Hunters turned out to be a lot more complex than he'd initially thought and that made Arthur even more excited to become one.
As a prince, he knew the basics of giving out orders since he was once adored by many and trained to lead as well. Nearly spending a century alive was enough to teach him what he should and should not do.
Alas, his fame amongst his brethren only lasted until his brother became the Crown Prince.
From that point on, his power as a prince of the phoenixes diminished significantly. That wasn't to say he didn't have more to look forward to.
He was still meant to be respected as royalty but his brother's word was much stronger than his own which hadn't always been the case growing up in Phoenix Castle.
Now he could become a hunter. The prince thought about the position of a Leader and how the old professor had phrased it. If he was to become a Leader, would he then command his own platoon of Hunters?
There were Scouts, Archers, Vanguard and Leaders.
The first three were easy for him to figure out. Archers were long-distance fighters that were meant to wither down the enemy before they reached the Vanguard and if they were good enough, aid the Vanguard even after the enemy was upon them.
The Scouts were meant to gather information about the enemy without getting caught and return to inform the squad in order to come up with a plan and counter in the most appropriate way.
The job of a scout was dangerous and required a significant amount of skill, stealth and caution to pull off. The Vanguard had to be strong… strong enough to face the enemy head-on while the Archer had to have a good eye.
All three parts were very vital on the battlefield. Each of them had to have honed their skills to the best of their abilities and help out in battle.
But all this was not possible without a central command. One who could drive the wheels of this machine so smoothly in order to achieve the best result.
The Leader.
Arthur didn't know what position the Leader was meant to play during the battle. Were they meant to just sit back and order everyone around or did they join the Vanguard when the battle came to its worst?
Or were they simply a part of the Rear guard, to protect them from sneak attacks while giving out all the orders?
The more he thought about it, the more confusing it got.
So much information eluded him.
The amber light of magic got so bright that he had to close his eyes to block it out. While his eyes were closed, he listened to the silent hum of magic in the runes that transported him.
The warmth of magic bathing his body was comforting and alluring. Like a warm hug that revitalised his body as a bonus.
His destination remained a mystery and his hand tightened about the lance as he prepared himself for whatever he was bound to find on the other side of the Teleportation Circle.
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