Earth and Vigor Ch. 01

Standing in the light of the arched windows of a narrow marble hall, Brooke shielded his green eyes from the harsh morning sun. The ruby set within the engraved metal ring on his left hand glittered from the rays of light.

At the far end of the expansive eastern courtyard one story below, he watched with a twinge of envy as a group of armored guards practiced sparring exercises against each other. His mind wandered to his younger days where he dreamed of wielding his own blade in battle or unseating a foe from his horse when a local tournament appeared.

He had his pick of any number of horses, but any casual glance would see his form was more delicate than impressive and hard pressed to build muscle. The blade he'd received for his sixteenth birthday stayed on his wall looking pretty for the past two and a half years. Still, he couldn't bear to let its sharpness go unmaintained despite its lack of use.

The door behind him clicked shut. Brooke turned to face the tall, imposing woman exiting her room. She was dressed for official duties as always in a simple black dress, dark blonde hair tucked over one shoulder, and a brilliant ruby necklace on display.

"Mother," he said in a light voice, "About my studies-"

"No," she said with a wave of a hand. "And I'm sorry, but I have council meetings to catch up with."

"You didn't even hear what I had to say."

"Because we've been over this," she said. "Magic is a dangerous tool, and you are not suited for such things."

Brooke held back a huff of frustration. "Next you'll say walking around is too much for me."

"I've assigned you tutors, yes?" his mother replied. "If you'd learn rather than shirking your duties, you could benefit from something and be out of the way of everything else."

"Because etiquette lessons are so very important," he said with an eye roll.

She glanced behind him before taking in the disheveled, not yet changed quality of his clothes. "This discussion is not continuing. Morgan can help you fix your looks, at least."

Without waiting for a response, she walked away.

Brooke sighed as he turned to face a short, dark-haired woman not that much older than him. She wore a maid outfit that reached her knees yet still managed to show off her shoulders and cleavage. When she was first assigned to him, he imagined he held some power over her since he stood slightly taller than her, but a handful of years dealing with her attitude proved that to be far less viable.

The annoyed expression on her face did, however, turn more to pity. After placing a set of clean clothes in his arms, she led him away.

***

Aside from the shortsword with a gilded hilt on the wall, Brooke's well-made bedroom was free of anything that wasn't a piece of practical furniture. He set his clothes on the bed as Morgan went through a second door. His slim body revealed itself with his shirt removed. Before he transferred to the rest of his clothes, he ended up staring into space.

No matter how many times he pleaded with her, Mother always seemed to give him a cold shoulder. Did she think he wasn't worthy of living up to her legacy? It's not like she had another child to invest in, and the implication of wanting him out of the way all the time didn't make him feel entirely comfortable...

Morgan, who he hadn't noticed returning, pinched his cheek hard.

"Hey!" Brooke yelped, jumping away from her.

She put an innocent smile on her face. "Something wrong?"

He rubbed his face to ease the light pain. "Did you have to do that?"

"You don't seem to mind my touch when we're sharing the bed," she replied alongside a knowing look.

Brooke tried standing straighter to seem more authoritative... despite being half-naked and the light blush on his face. "This isn't that time, you know."

"Either way, sit down," she said, holding up a brush.

"I think I'm capable of brushing my own hair," he replied.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and spun a nearby chair around to face him.

A second later, he sighed. He sat down, and a brush was working his sandy-blonde hair into a somewhat neater, swept-back style.

"Did you overhear any of that?" Brooke asked.

"Enough," she replied. "How's it going?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Been thinking to go somewhere for once rather than sitting around here."

"Mhm. Sure." Her head appeared over his shoulder at the same time that her breasts pressed into his back. "Maybe a quickie to cheer up?"

Brooke decided to pay attention to any other point in the room. "And have someone walk in on us?"

"That's why they're called quickies, you know." Morgan set the brush on a dresser before stepping around him. "So, what're you planning?"

He waited a moment. "...I would hope Mother won't hear of it."

"I've dealt with family enough to know Lady Elise is a bit much." She winked at him. "I think it's called a 'friend' with benefits anyway."

"What I'm thinking is Caldin is likely to trade favors," Brooke said.

Morgan offered his other clothes. "Except, he's not a magic man."

"Mother has all the 'magic men' around here on her side," he said while slipping into the new outfit, an embroidered white tunic and black pants. "Talking with him is easier to pass off if she finds out."

"At least take care of yourself," she said. "I'll probably take more of a punishment than you for letting you run about."

Brooke allowed himself half of a smile. "I can get you something special when I get back?"

"Deal," she replied.

***

Hand raised in front of the heavy oak door, Brooke took a breath and set his hand upon the handle.

The interior was lit by one large window with a view of a stone cityscape in the near distance. A cluttered mess of bookcases stuffed to the brim lined one wall, and two personal lock safes sat behind Lord Caldin's chair at his somewhat less cluttered desk of papers and quills.

He was an older, meticulously dressed gentleman of graying hair and beard, one who immediately turned over the papers in front of him when the door opened.

"Undisturbed, I said," he growled. "Why-" Upon seeing Brooke, he stopped.

Brooke pointed to the door. "Bad time?"

Caldin cleared his throat and waved him forward. "Apologies. I wasn't expecting anyone. Brooke, yes?"

Brooke took a seat in one of the hard-backed chairs before the desk. "You know my name?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have a sharp eye," Caldin moved his papers to the side of the desk, focusing a pair of grey eyes solely on Brooke.

"So, what could the son of our dear Lady of War want with this humble Lord of Commerce?" Caldin asked.

"A simple request," Brooke said. "I want you to have me on as an apprentice of sorts. Dealing in trade and coin and such."

"Hm... Sudden." Caldin began slowly drumming his fingers on the desk. "Why?"

Brooke resisted looking away from the discerning gaze across from him. "My reasons are my own. Are you saying you don't want a favor owed in exchange?"

"Favors, I have plenty of," Caldin said. "And I doubt you have anything I need..."

His eyes lit up.

"Except..." One of Caldin's fingers darted around in the air as if calculating something. "Perhaps you can help me."

"With what?" Brooke asked.

"If you do well," Caldin said, "I'll let you in on it when next we meet."

He pulled a blank sheet of paper over and scribbled a note alongside a signature before setting it down. "In the meantime, take this to Darren at the merchant's house. He's readying a shipment for our southernmost port, and he'll teach you, willing or not."

Brooke picked up the paper and stared like it was lined with gold. "That's... kind. I didn't expect this right away."

Caldin chuckled. "It doesn't take much from my time. I'd suggest hurrying. They're due to leave by noon."

Brooke's chair screeched as he shot out of it and offered a quick bow. "Thank you. I won't forget this."

***

A caravan of several heavy-duty wagons rumbled their way down a small road paved with mostly flat stonework. Each was under the pull of horses and watch of a driver and accompanying guard. Exiting an area of hilly terrain with a couple of oddly placed fissures in the ground, the road became surrounded by more and more of a tall oak forest as they went on.

In the first wagon among the abundance of cargo between the front and back curtains, Brooke, sword sheathed at his side, sat on a makeshift seat trying to bunch the end of his traveling cloak under him so each bump was less jolting.

Lying back against a crate as if it were somehow comfortable, Darren, a man who didn't look like a merchant based on his patchwork jacket alone, made eye contact.

"Something the matter?" Darren asked.

"I can show you the note again," Brooke said. The first day of travel had gone by with him being brushed off, but not this time.

Darren sighed. "Fine, fine." He pulled a smaller box over and dug a folded map out of his left pocket. "But I'll need you to listen and show me what that fancy name's worth, hm?"

"I think I can manage," Brooke said.

Darren tapped the network of lines on the map, "You even know who we trade with?" After a few seconds of silence, he said, "Yeah, alright then."

His finger pointed to the western borders of the empire marked on the map. "A few beastkin tribes came under our territory since we took it from the elves a few years ago. They aren't wealthy enough for our finer goods, so we head south to the major ports."

"You say that like the elves aren't to the west," Brooke said.

"Try taking someone's stuff before asking them to do business and see how that turns out," Darren said with a laugh.

"Ever met one though?" Brooke asked, a more child-like curiosity showing in his eyes. "Seen their magic?"

"The aftermath of it," Darren replied. "Let's just say I'm glad we learned to hurl fireballs."

Darren winked at him. "But are you after an elven beauty, boy? S'pose it's not the worst option since all of 'em are ladies. Beastkin too if you're into the fierce ones."

"I was taught that much," Brooke said, trying to focus more on the map than Darren's words. "And no."

"So, Lady War teaches you more than her namesake?" Darren asked. Brooke's expression must've turned sour without him realizing because Darren immediately faked a cough. "Well, I'm supposed to be teaching you business... Do you know at least a little?"

While Brooke was thinking of a way to explain his lack of knowledge without looking incompetent, the rumbling movement of their wagon disappeared with a loud crack of wood. The floor jerked forward, and both of them were thrown up against a crate.

"Damn it," Darren poked his head out through the front curtain. "The hell has happened now?!"

Outside, a gruff voice, slightly battered, said, "Wheel's broken. Hole in the road. Last wagon too."

"And none of you saw them?!" Darren said, stepping out. He pushed his head back in. "Learn the map or something. This'll take-"

"Ambush!" someone cried.

Darren's eyes went wide, and the man disappeared as a chorus of yelling and swords clashing broke out.

Brooke drew his blade and stepped towards the front as a chill ran down his spine. He could jump out and join the fray. He should. He had plenty of lessons... but his hand was still shaking at the thought.

Under his breath, he muttered a curse to whatever spirit of the world decided his luck needed to be brought down another peg.

"Check the cargo," a different voice said.

Brooke's attention shifted to the front and the fact that the fighting seemed to have stopped nearly as quick as it started.

He backed up as the stomping of boots reached the wagon. It rocked under someone's weight as they stepped up onto the front. As he crept to the back, his sword knocked against the metal lining of a crate and produced a sharpting.

A head popped into the interior, one of a woman with chin-length, curly black hair pulled more to one side and a pair of wolf ears on her head. One of her ears twitched as her dark brown eyes met his. Her mouth broke into a smirk.

"Hello there," Raena said, her tone that of a hunter enjoying the fact that they've found new prey.

Tearing through the back curtain, Brooke nearly stumbled as he landed. Four hooded assailants in camouflage outfits were in view.

Thankfully, they weren't close, but all of their eyes shifted to him. They had hold of three caravan guards who seemed to have been brought down, one bloodied and the other two with an ankle trapped in the ground.

He bolted like a startled rabbit toward the tree line. He felt like he might have a chance to escape as his feet hit the dirt off of the road. If he could get into the trees, he could keep dashing between the trunks and-

His vision went toward the sky as a hand snagged the back of his cloak, and it flashed to black as his head hit the ground.

"Can't have you leaving yet."

He staggered to his feet, stunned vision recovering after a few seconds. His sword was somehow still in his grasp which no longer shook. That was likely because the rest of his body felt like it was vibrating from his recent encounter with the ground.

Raena tossed aside her torn half of his cloak held her blade to her side. Brooke set his sword in a forward guard, expecting a first strike that she didn't seem willing to give.

It was easy to tell she was larger than him by a wide margin, broader shoulders and height included. She also seemed to be in prime condition, bouncing side to side on her feet with hardly a scratch on her fit form. There was also a furry tail visible behind her legs that swayed alongside her movements

Maybe she thought this would be easy.

Brooke feinted left and struck right, almost catching her shoulder if not for a last second block. He watched her amused smirk turn into a genuine grin.

"Finally," she said, adopting a more serious stance.

He threw a few more careful strikes to get through to her, but it felt like trying to break a stone wall. Unfortunately, it was a stone wall that knew how to strike back.

Her blade was easy enough to meet. The problem was he underestimated the strength behind it. He felt the steel graze his upper arm as it passed by. Trying to back up didn't give him much ground since she simply advanced on him.

After blocking just a few hits, his sword arm was growing heavy. On her next attack, Brooke let his sword be knocked back. It cost him a bite of steel into his shoulder, but he was able to draw his sword back and thrust forward.

Blood marked his sword as it hit her in the side, although Raena sidestepped the worst of it. She took his lack of a guarding weapon between them to step closer and deliver a heavy punch to his stomach with her off hand.

The result was immediate, and Brooke dropped to one knee with whatever breath he had in his lungs vanishing.

"Nice! Better than the fools you call guards," Raena said from above. "But we can stop."

Brandishing his sword, Brooke rose again. He stood as straight as he could without wincing from the pain. "Awfully... chatty, aren't you...? Ha... You'll regret giving me a chance."

Raena raised her sword. "If you insist!"

Before she came around for another swing, a bundle of roots shot out of the ground from a nearby tree, wrapped around her wrist, and yanked her momentum to a stop.

They both looked over to see Astrid, a hooded figure with her hand raised, walking closer.

"We're not trying to kill them, Raena," Astrid said in a calm voice with an air of authority behind it.

Raena sighed and passed her sword to her other hand to start hacking at the roots.

WIth Astrid steadily approaching him, Brooke backed away. He didn't get too far since a few other bandits had formed a small perimeter around him. There didn't look to be a weapon on her, and the fact that she was strolling so casually was unnerving.

"You can drop the sword," Astrid said, now standing before his blade. "You're barely standing as is."

Brooke put on a confident grin, however fake it was. "Still standing though."

Before his battered muscles could react, Astrid rushed in, snatched the wrist of his sword hand, placed one foot behind his, and shoved him. He landed hard.

Astrid pinned him to the ground with a hand around his neck. "Oops. You fell."

Dizziness overtook most of his head thanks to the second impact. He found himself suddenly feeling drained, but he managed to focus on her face and its sharper features. A few strands of golden brown hair hung down in front of her.

"You... have nice eyes for a thief," he said. They were a pleasant, deep green color.

"Charming," Astrid said.

"Sure, forget about me over here," Raena said as she pried his sword away. She turned it over, examining it. "Sword's fancy, isn't it?"

Astrid's eyes glanced over his well-made clothing and landed on his ruby ring. "How interesting."

"I don't suppose... you could leave the sword?" he asked.

Astrid turned to Raena. "You have a stick of that somni-whatever compound?"

Raena pulled out a rectangular piece of a plant-like material, cracked it, and handed it over.

"This will help you out," Astrid said.

Broke didn't have much of a choice as she cupped a hand over his nose. The first whiff of whatever material she had was absurdly sweet and earthy. It was like a meadow of flowers condensed into one spot. The pain that had begun to creep up on him was fading.

"Ah, wait, can you tell me your name?"

He couldn't tell who was talking. The sounds of his environment were becoming distorted, distant. The ground felt comfortable. Too comfortable. That thought crumbled as soon as it formed. His eyes had closed at some point.

"...think he's gone..."

"... -fine... -im on a horse."

***

This bed certainly wasn't his. Something of a dusty smell hung in the room, multiple bandages were hugging his right arm, and his ring was gone.

He sat up and took in the three stone walls and set of bars marking his new room. Cell, really. A few rune inscribed lanterns holding balls of light hung on the walls, and a door stood out of reach on the other side of the bars. One of the lanterns was constantly flickering like it was on its last legs.

Brooke rolled over, placed his feet on the floor, and held his head as a throbbing headache started. "Ugh..."

He closed his eyes until it faded over the course of a minute. With the sound of the door opening, Brooke saw the head of a person he didn't recognize. The pointed ears sticking out a little among her reddish hair told him a fair bit though. When she saw him, she left as quickly as she came.

Searching for a way out would theoretically be the best use of his time, but there was nothing to his space beyond the lanterns, a wooden cot with a mattress, and the smooth walls. There wasn't even a cell door. The bars, constructed from thick, sturdy wood of all things, seemed impassable. On the bright side, his arm only felt like it went through a hard workout.

The cot creaked as he flopped back onto it and let out a humorless laugh. Out of all the things he thought he'd manage to do out here, getting himself kidnapped wasn't one of them.

The door opened again, and Astrid walked in, hood down, and a cloth sack in hand. Kept behind her pointed ears except for one strand hanging to the side of her face, her straight hair stopped at the shoulders and was otherwise forgotten.

"Finally awake, I see."

With the wave of a hand, the bars parted for her entrance and closed behind her before he could even think about trying to run past her. Although, and he would never say it aloud, the group of people that had to be beyond that door would likely be stronger than him.

"Finally?" he asked.

She tossed the sack his way. "You missed most of the day. You'll be hungry."

When he looked inside, he saw a small loaf of bread and an assortment of apples. His first reaction was to refuse the offering, but his stomach growled soon after seeing it all.