Once upon a time, in a land long forgotten, in the age of elves and dwarves, knights and pages, kings and queens, there lived a boy. He looked nothing special. Just like you and me. But as the wisest among us know and say, destiny is not seen but lived. This boy had the misfortune to live in the Ga'ader province, which was a mining colony. When any boy became six, they took him into "preparatory training", which meant slogging in a ill-ventilated, hot, clammy mine shaft that smelled like dead mice. It was like this for all the poor. The rich, however, stood a chance to serve the King. Not many people were too happy with that idea. The King's mistreatment of people who did him the slightest disservice was famous. But, if you know what to say to the right people, you could become a noble, those people who live in a palatial mansion, with many estates, waited on hand and foot by an army of slaves and servants(and always seemed to have swallowed a large pot) who could live his life in (relative) luxury.
As you could imagine, our boy here, after experiencing nearly 12 years of "preparation" had no desire to do this for he rest of his life. The pay was miserly, and at least a handful of people died of suffocation, and also those who dared to complain about the negligible wages and long hours, often met with a convenient "accident". They got the ceremonious funeral of being thrown into a fire that warmed the bones of the surviving miners as they walked out, wondering when they would join the others in that Pit of Flames, the gateway to death.
But he had no choice. You had to be rich to get a chance to serve the king, and rich he was not. In his anger and frustration, he took a strong swing at the rock in front of him, pulverizing it into dust. It also finished off his pickax, which had been flimsy to begin with. A man who he hadn't seen until now, stepped out into the open and came towards him. He appeared much more well-to-do than most of the residents of his town. He certainly wasn't a noble though, as a noble would have a large escort with him. This man was alone. Our boy was wondering who the man was, as he was circling the boy like he was examining a prize pumpkin. He finally said "Look here boy, I know you don't want to be here doing this for the rest of your life. I want to help you. I'll let you take part in the tournament, and I'll sponsor you. In return, all I ask is that you put your best into the training, and win the tournament. Savvy? Meet me outside, and tell me what you think. Okay?". Rangad, for that was the man's name, walked outside, and our boy continued hammering away at the rock, his head spinning as he considered the possibilities of what had just happened.
As he walked out of the mine, he stopped ad the dreaded Pit of Death, as the bodies of the day were heaped into in, and prayed a silent thanks to whatever god got him out of it. He threw his tools into a big pile in the corner, and braced himself to enter the chill outside(for it was winter). He almost started on the journey home, when he remembered the man who had offered him a new lease on life. He turned around, looking for him. He felt a tap on his shoulder and swiveled around, and saw the smiling face of Rangad. "So, have you made up your mind yet? All those years swinging a pickax has given you quite a nice build, if I do say so myself! Are you in?" he asked. Our boy managed to choke out a "Ye..Ye..Yes!". He inwardly frowned at himself. He was making a terrible first impression! He was sounding like a half-strangled rooster! But the man seemed pleased enough" There's a good lad! Meet me outside Jalkod's tavern tomorrow! Don't forget!" he said as he cheerfully walked away. The boy pranced home with a jump in his step, as he walked past mile after mile of undulating countryside before arriving at his home.
He lived in a quaint, little countryside home, with a small farm at the back and a tiny pond up front, were a solitary duck lived. He tossed it the small crap of bread he found near the bakers, and walked inside. "I'm home", he announced to no one in particular.A cute little puppy ran out of his only room like a tiny missile."It's good to see you too", he said. He decided to forgo dinner( not that he had anything in his cupboards to eat) and he went straight to bed. As lay awake well past midnight, he thought of why that man had chosen him, of all people. Deep down, he knew that the man's intentions weren't all that unselfish, as the richer people of the province had the habit of placing large sums of money as bets on who would win. That man probably thought that he would win, so sponsored him into the contest. But he was sure there were probably stronger men than him in those mines. Putting it down to luck, the will of Ignasious The Almighty, or both of them working hand in hand, he finally managed to get to sleep.
If anybody was watching the endless corn fields of the countryside in the morning, they would have seen a boy running as if the King's Elite Force were after him, and a tiny puppy struggling to keep pace with him. But no one was. All that was running in that boy's mind was "I'm gonna be late!" After he convinced himself that yesterday wasn't a dream, he ran to the tavern as fast as his two legs would carry him. To is relief, the man wasn't there yet, and he slid into the warmth of the tavern.
