The sky wept. Cold rain lashed the streets and roofs of Amador, streaking the walls of the city. It was an unseasonable storm. It spoke of the Dark One’s touch upon the world.

 

Volden reclined in a hard, wooden chair, staring at the gusts of wind that rolled the rain about. His eyes burned feverishly. A stiff smile hung crooked upon his lips. If anyone had come upon him that instant, they would have recoiled from him in fear. Volden did not inspire much else in most people.

 

The door creaked. He turned to look at it. A slender figure, cloaked in blue, entered. Raindrops spattered upon the floor as she pulled off her hood. Grim auburn eyes looked into Volden’s, before the woman bowed slightly. Volden rose and bowed as well.

 

“What have you learned?” He asked, his voice low and cool. “You are not forgotten.” The woman said, in a musical voice. “Your house is empty. No one lives there now. There’s talk of it being demolished to make way for a lordling’s estate. The Watch has a record of you still. But they’re not out to get you. And once you become a Child, they will not dare to. The innkeeper of the Blue Boar remembers you, or so he says. But he remembers a shy, reclusive boy. He is no threat. There is nothing more standing between you and Childhood.”

 

There was a petulant undertone to her words, which Volden noticed. He smiled. Reaching over, he clasped her hands in his. “Your time will come. You are my last and truest follower. I would never forsake you. Believe me, for I swear by the Light.”

 

The women flushed visibly and nodded. Otherwise, her face remained without expression. Volden let go of her hands and walked back to the window. Lightning flashed. “Tomorrow.” He whispered. “Tomorrow, I embrace my destiny.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Sun shone down harshly, making the walls of the Fortress gleam like incandescent jewels. The puddles and ponds made by the storm of the night before were shrinking fast before the Sun’s glare. And so shall the Light triumph over the Shadow. Volden thought to himself, as he walked down the pathway to the Fortress.

 

A deep excitement made him tremble visibly. He was not nervous, though it may have seemed so to an onlooker. He had no fear. Here was where he belonged, had belonged all his life. At last, he had come to collect his due, to embark upon the life the Light had meant for him.

 

He was clothed entirely in white, though of course no sunburst adorned his cloak. He would not be so impudent as to do that, not until he earned that right. As it was, the sunlight streaked off his clothes, lending an ethereal glow to his spindly body. People glanced aside when they looked at him; the Light hurt their eyes. Sinners all. He thought, smiling grimly.

The Fortress loomed above him. He strode up to the door set into the gates, his eyes glowing. He entered, curtly asking the guards the way to the Head Clerk’s office. One of them smirked at seeing his outfit. Volden did not care. Soon, he would be as far above as them as the Light willed him to be. He walked forward into the courtyard.

 

Children, in all their majestic glory, abounded. The yellow sunburst hung high in pennants that wafted lazily in the summer wind. The clatter of swords, the whine of arrows, the buzzing of conversations filled his ears. He grinned, from ear to ear. His heart felt about to burst with glee. Soon, brothers and sister…I shall be one of you. He thought.

 

He found the Clerk office and entered. The scribbling of quills filled the air. The man closest to the door looked up as he entered. Volden nodded to him and then moved forward towards the Head Clerk. As befitted the Head, he was seated at a desk at the end of the large office, before a desk massive and cluttered.

 

Volden settled himself before the table. It was time to put off his self-absorbed air. He cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. “Greetings of the Light, good sir.” He smiled, a frigid grin on his gaunt face. “I wish to join the Children of the Light.”

 

"Heh, do it again! Do it again!". Roudal was amused. For the first time in a long while, he was in a good mood. For about a few moments. Then he started wondering where it was coming from. He started thinking about his life routine, his family, his health. And surely enough he got back to his usual self again. A sociopath, with just a touch of grumpiness to add to the flavor.

 

"No, stop. It's ruined. Go back to work." Roudal's assistance stopped throwing darts at a drawing of Roudal's wife and walked back to his desk, muttering. Roudal started to feel that his wife was transmitting her moodiness, infecting everyone around here. There was no where to run. There was no use to run. That woman was the end of all and she left no survivors.

 

"Greetings of the Light, good sir." Roudal looked up and found young man standing in front of his desk. And, notably enough, he was smiling. "I wish to join the Children of the Light." Roudal cleared his throat. "Very well, but you don't have look all smug about it. Take a sit, lad." Roudal sipped tea for some long few moments, before finally grabbing the book of recruits and speaking to the boy.

 

Flipping through the pages, Roudal spoke, never raising his head. "I need some personal information for archiving purposes. Give me your full name, age and place of origin."

 

 

 

Roudal

Head Clerk

 

He raised an eyebrow at the Head Clerk's brusqueness. On the contrary, he felt he had every right to be smug. But the old man did not know and need not know of the reasons for that. He took his seat, wiping the smile off of his face. He clasped his hands together and set them on his lap, fixing his eyes on the table. He gazed at the papers lying there cursorily, not really trying to read them upside down. He moved his eyes to the face of the Clerk. He was sipping tea and thoroughly ignoring Oram without any effort.

 

A look about the room brought the dart-ridden portrait of a dragonish woman to his attention. A little thought told him she was likely the Head Clerk's wife. It was highly unlikely he would have allowed such a practice inside the office unless it was and he hated her rather deeply. No wonder the man was bitter. He did not even get the pleasure of serving the Light in a satisfactory manner, holed up in this little room, with his documents and folders.

 

He felt a little sorry for the Clerk in his aloof way. It was a fleeting emotion. The Head Clerk spoke then and drove all other thoughts from his head. He listened and answered instantly. "My name is Oram Volden. I am 21 years old. I am Amadician; I grew up in Amador."

 

It was a possibility, he had to admit, that the Clerk may know his father. Volden senior had never been more than a grunt, insincere in his service to the Light, but an archivist like the Clerk may remember the name. Still, it hardly mattered. What did matter was that as soon as the Clerk finished the innocuous, mundane little task of jotting down what he had said, he'd be inducted into the Children.

"My name is Oram Volden. I am 21 years old. I am Amadician; I grew up in Amador." Roudal pursed his lips and scribbled down the information with care. All the young recruits coming into the Fortress and behaving as if they earned their place made the hair at the back of Roudal's neck stand. Then again, he would find himself frequently crossing out names of recruits that decided to quit. Evelyn would usually have something to do with that. It was hard not to smile by the thought.

 

Looking back at Oram, Roudal forced on a smile. "Well, you've been added to the books. The next step is for you to go find Emanuella, the Quartermaster. She will handle the rest." Roudal closed the book and started reading through a letter that he received from his uncle. His eyes slowly moved up, realizing Oram was still in the room. "What are you waiting for, lad? You won't recieve any indication of where Emanuella's study is. You need to learn the layout of the fortress and there's no better time than the present. Scoot!"

 

Roudal watched Oram walk away, wondering how long the boy would last. Time will tell.

 

 

 

Roudal

Head Cranky

He kept his eyes fixed upon the Head Clerk as the man wrote down what Oram had told him. He had a feeling that the man did not like him. What was more, he had a feeling that the man did not like anyone. He listened calmly as Roudal looked up and directed him to find the Quartermaster and then promptly went on to read a letter. Oram raised an eyebrow. He had expected directions.

 

His expectations, however, were quite summarily ignored. He gave a frosty little smile an bowed to the Head Clerk as he was told to..."Scoot". "My humble thanks to you, good master. May the Light always shine on you." Then he turned and exited the office.

 

The sun beat down upon the stone of the Fortress. The very earth radiated heat. The voices of the Children and the servants mingled with the clatter of wooden swords. A wind made the pennants on top of the ramparts flutter; the sunburst wove in and out of sight. A deep, deep pleasure welled inside him, beating along with his heart. It filled him, pressed against him, threatened to overwhelm him. He felt...alive! "I am a Child of the Light." He whispered to himself. The dam burst and a single tear rolled down his cheeks. "I am a Child of the Light." He whispered again.

 

A few minutes later found Oram walking down a passageway. Cones of light penetrated the shadows, a lesson in the dichotomy of the Light and the Dark. Oram passed from the sunlight - it illumined him, setting fire to his pale blonde hair - into the darkness - his features were cast in stone, grim and rough he seemed, capable of atrocities unimaginable. He reached a door set deep into the stone wall. Knocking smartly, he entered.

 

"I come to seek the Quartermaster." He announced gravely. "I was instructed to do so by the Head Clerk." He folded his arms and smiled. "I just joined the Children of the Light."

Emanuella flipped through the pile of documents on her desk. A lot of things needed to be done, so she neatly sorted the pile she was going to attend to that day and the pile that she would take care of the next day. She never liked taking too much on herself and preferred to give required attention for every problem that needed solving.

 

A knock on the door made Emanuella's eyes climb up from the papers. "Enter." A young man came in. "I come to seek the Quartermaster. I was instructed to do so by the Head Clerk. I just joined the Children of the Light." Emanuella smiled and gestured him to sit down. After giving her his name, she proceeded. "My name is Emanuella and I am the Quartermaster."

 

"The Fortress is going to be your home from now on. The first days are always the hardest. You need to find yourself within these walls and get familiar with your surrounding. But it will improve in time, no doubt." Emanuella flipped thorough her room assigning book. "Looks like you will be having a room of your own for now. Until other new recruits are assigned to it. Room number 60."

 

Emanuella closed the book with a thud. "As for superiors, you will know all of their faces, eventually. Generally speaking, though, the military officials wear insignia. The questioners, on the other hand, seldom use the appointed insignia. However, you can distinguish them quite easily. Added to the sunburst icon on their cloaks as the rest of the Children have, they have a red shepherd's crook behind it. Hard to miss. You are expected to address them with the title sir. Added to a bow when it's a Questioner. A salute when it's a Commander." Emanuella reassured Oram with a warm smile.

 

"You will find five sets of uniforms in the closet in your room. Take good care of them. They will not be replaced. As for curfews. You have one day of rest and one afternoon off a week, in which you're permitted to leave the fortress. At any other time you are expected to remain within the Fortress' grounds. Now, if you have any questions, I'll be delighted to answer. But first and foremost; Welcome to the Children of the Light."

 

 

 

Emanuella

Quartermaster

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