AN: I have been playing around with several modpacks, memorizing how to use them and other aspects of Vanilla Minecraft. Safe to say that my current favorite mod is either Mekanism with its mass complexity, or Tinkers with the twist on equipment and tools.

My goal this chapter was to set up some more of the long term plot and character development rather then only focusing on Tusk's abilities as a Minecraft Player.

I don't own anything except original characters, and I do hope you enjoy!

"The bandits have taken a girl hostage and ridden into the forest," one of the nearby horsemen informed Lord Corchet. The tall armored man ran his fingers along his short beard while rearing his horse towards the rest of his hunting party.

This had been the first time I had really been in his presence for a long period of time. Normally, he was always busy and off fulfilling his duties as a Northern Lord of the Alkaline kingdoms. He bore a brownish red hair in contrast to Delilah and Lady Corchet's dark brown and silky hair color and texture. He was of course, stuck up like one would expect a noble to be. He was stubborn, hard headed, and impatient. That didn't block out the hard cold facts that he was strong and intelligent. He was cunning and smart, and an excellent military leader. As it turns, he had operated as a general for King Hudner during the Archaic Wars which had ended over twenty years ago. His success in the campaign led him to become one of the most prominent lords in the region.

Our hunting party included Master Garrosh, a close advisor who I had yet to memorize the name of, two West Lancers who the Lord was especially close with as friends outside of the bounds of the social ladder, and me.

He had just returned from visiting the eastern Mountain Lords and felt a desire to enjoy the rest of the day hunting wild boar. Unfortunately, there were not many guards who could accompany him. He had found the two lancers riding by and recognized them as old friends. In reality, they were more his buddies today instead of his temporary guard. Despite having two already, Lady Corchet had urged him to bring more. With no one else, he requested Master Garrosh to accompany him. This resulted in my presence becoming required due to my apprenticeship with the Swords Master.

There was large plains field just south of the Loch Forest. Wild boar and even deer were a common sight in the area. What started out as a boring ride, listening to the older men laugh and holler at the more obnoxious conversations a Lord should avoid, soon turned into a troubling problem.

A pack of bandits had been spotted, as informed two scouts under the Corchet banner that had spotted us. They rode down from the hillside to join us and quickly informed the Lord of the situation. A small pack of bandits on horseback had ridden into the territory, raiding several family homes on the countryside and burning down the houses with the families inside. It also became apparent that they had kidnapped a young girl.

At hearing this, Master Garrosh and I eyed each other. We both had a mutual understanding that we would get no excitement from staring at the asses of the men before us.

"Milord, may I offer my services in pursuing these bandits?" my master inquired. The lord glanced at the man and frowned. His dark expression was more geared towards me, as he caught the hidden meaning behind his request. If Master Garrosh went, then I would go as well.

"Your apprentice… do you feel he is ready?" he asked, watching me for any change in expression. I had long since mastered the ability to maintain a stoic expression and returned his gaze without any trouble.

"More than ready, milord. By your word, we will set out at the moment."

"Then do so with caution. I would hate to lose the Master Swordsman within my own territory, and I am sure my daughter would be devastated. We will route to the west of Loch Forest. If you can push them from the east towards us, then we may lay waste to the small group." Lord Corchet grunted. I watched the man pull a silver helmet over his head before calling to the scouts and lancers with him. Soon, they rode quickly to the west while leaving only me and my master.

"We must hurry, lad," Garrosh stated, motioning for me to follow. My response was a quick nod before I had my horse ride forth alongside Master Garrosh

Riding a horse was quite unusual for those like me. I did not expect it to be so similar to Minecraft in the aspect that I could access the horse's inventory and equip the saddle and armor slots with suitable gear. Then there was the riding part. Until today, I had never actually touched a horse in my life. The reason to do so never really came up before then. Instead, when I mounted, I could feel this slight buzz in the back of my head. I was connected to the horse and I could command it with so much as a single thought, much like how you would control the horse from behind the monitor with nothing but a single pressing of a button. I did not need to beckon the animal, nor did I need to use the reigns. All I merely did was hold on and thought. The same likely went for Master Garrosh.

I could not command it in very specific ways. For example, I could not force the horse to maybe lift its left hoof or glance to the right. I could however give the basic command to go left or right. I could regulate how fast the horse galloped and then command it to stop. So all I had to do was to tell the horse to follow Master Garrosh and his steed, and it would do so.

We rode quickly towards the east side of Loch Forest before cutting across a small hill and into a small pathway which appeared to have been forged through years of animal herds traversing the terrain. By that time, the sun was setting and the winter cold was nearly unbearable in my flimsy leather tunic, but that did not halt me.

We rode fast and hard, the beating of the hooves hard against the dirt and the steady rhythm of the horses jerking underneath us both kept in sync with our heart beats as we finally caught sight of a group on horseback. The trees were a blur, but our horses were trusty enough to collide into any. They were bred to be fast, and trained since birth to exceed the speed of most other mounts. It was no surprise that we had caught up so quickly to the bandits who rode upon horses likely half starved to death.

"We route them west, correct?" I called over to Master Garrosh. He did not look to me, but his eyes intently remained on the blur of a terrain below us and the riders ahead. I could already hear their yells of alarm as we slowly gained upon them.

"Pha! We take them out here and now, lad! To arms!" Master Garrosh spat, a familiar hint of excitement and bloodlust in his old voice. I shook my head, but couldn't help but grin myself as we both quickly switched into our iron equipment in a quick flash of blue light. [Leather Tunics] were switched with [Iron Chainmail], our [Dirty Road Leathers] replaced with [Forged Iron Leggings], and our [Old Boots] swapped with iron plated [Hard Strewn Leather Boots]. The bandits ahead were in too much of a panic to really notice the supernatural power we possessed going into use. Finally, we would get our entertainment

Releasing my legs from the straps of the saddles, I leapt up onto the back of my horse effortlessly. My mount did not waver as I rode his back in the fashion of a surf board. I balanced myself perfectly, shifting weights on my legs in sync with the giant gallops of the beast I rode upon. While one hand remained outstretched forwards to maintain balance, I brought my other hand back and mentally put one of the many weapons I kept hidden away within my inventory.

With the spear in hand I drew back, sucked in a loud breath, and slung to spear forwards with a shift of my body and a strong push of my arm. The spear flew through the air in a perfect arc, spiraling in the way of a football in America.

I watched the projectile strike the rider in near the rear in his lower neck. The spear forked him into his horse which screamed loudly before its legs hit a large branch. The bandit was thrown into the air while the horse flipped over onto its face.

"Shit!" I heard one of them yell, and we were right upon them. A bow appeared in the hands of the Swords Master to my right as he took the bowstring back and drew. The arrow warped into existence in between his notched fingers before he let it fly.

Thunk!

Another screamed in agony as right ribcage was struck, but it would not matter. I followed up with a steel blade in my hands and pierced his side as I pressured the group on the left.

Four riders remained and they knew they were not facing any regular adversaries. We did not give them the chance to really understand that they needed to fight. Kicking out, I shoved the now deceased corpse on my right off and the body tumbled to the blurred ground, disappearing quickly into the distance behind us. All four wielded rusted short swords which they had drawn the moment they'd noticed us. It was now that they finally decided to use them.

One of them reared his horse to the right, angling himself to get a better position on Master Garrosh. His blade was met with another, one that the bandit could not remember being in the old man's hands in the first place yet. The bow had disappeared to. The sound of metal meeting metal echoed throughout the forest but died out under the beating of the hooves underneath us. They dueled viciously at each other's throats, each seeking another opening. Two others broke off to intercept me while the lead rider continued on his course.

I brought forth a wire hook from my inventory, a long steel cable with a jagged metal on one end and a thick hook on the other. Swinging it into the air, I whipped the jagged end around the closest rider before he could react. The metal wire wrapped around his throat, locking into pace as the metal points hooked into his throat. He screamed in shock and began to trash at the weight now tugging him backwards. Taking the other end and the metal curved blade linked to it, I held it out and let the bladed tip hook a nearby tree. The bandit, still grasping at his throat, was yanked from his horse with a sickening crack that made it known that his neck was no longer in proper attachment.

The next rider slashed at my arm, an attack which missed dreadfully when my horse jerked away slightly at my beckoning. I reached into the satchel at my side and flung out its contents. The white powder peppered the man's face and he inhaled a rather large amount in his shock. The powder immediately burned his lungs and he was blinded. Taking the chance, I took a small knife out of inventory and leapt off my horse.

Landing on the man and his mount, my blade dug into his throat as he screamed and gurgled. With another twist of the hilt, the man went still and I threw him off of his horse. The small blade disappeared as it was removed from my hot bar, the blood that used to coat it dropping to the ground with no metal to hang onto.

Master Garrosh ended his fight with a final thrust which his opponent was not ready for. The blade impaled the man through the chest. Knowing the sword was not very important and that he had many more still in his internal inventory, he let go so that the man could tumble off the side and onto the dirt ground.

And then there was one…

"He's got a captive," Master Garrosh warned me. I eyed the large human shaped bundle that was strapped to the side of the horse. I could see a pair of feet hanging out of one end, and the stillness made me wonder if she was already dead. The bandit was a tall but scrawny man in tanned leather hides. He had a fur jacket that had been ripped in several places showing that he had worn that same article of clothing in numerous fights.

"Then we just need to be a bit more cautious, eh?" I stated loudly before bringing forth a small iron hatchet.

My left hand gripping onto the reigns tightly, I leaned over the side of the saddle so I was hanging off and closer to the floor. I pointed my bent my arm and launched the hatchet in a spinning motion forwards. My apologies to the horse, but I valued the girl's life more than its own. The hatchet clipped the horse in its lower leg and it instantly tumbled over. The small bundle of a girl rolled into the ground silently while the man tumbled over and fell flat onto his back. Master Garrosh rode right by, spearing his head with a pike and dragging the man off a few more feat before he slowed down to dump the limp body.

"Damn it, Tusk! I swear if you just killed that girl!" Master Garrosh growled rearing his horse back.

"Relax!" I called back while dismounting the horse. My boots hit the ground with a metallic thud before I quickly rushed over to the motionless girl. I took a small blade and sliced away the bindings around the large cloth that wrapped her body. When I was finally able to undo it, my eyes were met with another pair of dark grey. For a moment, I actually thought she was deceased. It wasn't until I saw that her chest was still moving that I realized she was alive. Her eyes examined me without much change in her stoic expression. No stoic wasn't the right word, lifeless. She looked earnestly dead on the inside.

She was young, almost as young as me and her hair was pitch black. I found myself comparing her hair to a shadow. She was small and looked underfed. I had no idea how long she had been with those bandits, but she was finally free from them. What still concerned me was her lack of… response. Was she in shock? She laid there in the unwrapped cloth while silently staring at me for a good while.

"My name is Tusk Rayon, apprentice of Master Swordsman Garrosh and currently acting under the Corchet banner. We've come to… rescue you I suppose," I said, growing slightly nervous under her expressionless gaze. She blinked and then slowly she nodded. An acknowledgement… that was a start.

"Ha, looks like you didn't end up killing her!" Master Garrosh spat as he finally reached us, dismounted, and joined my side. His expression dropped at the sight of the girl. He could tell something was off. I lowered myself to meet her gaze and spoke softly.

"Do you know where your family is? We can ta-

I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Master Garrosh shaking his head with a grim and dark expression. He was trying to tell me something, but I did not understand. Had he noticed something I had not? I was confused for a moment. I did not understand the silent message. It took a few seconds longer before I got it.

-raiding several family homes on the countryside and burning down the homes with the families inside-

"Oh…" I said. Master Garrosh nodded sadly, relaxing his grip on me. That's why she did not speak. Slowly, I turned back to the girl, this silent and emotionless girl, and held out my hand to her. "Come on, let's get you out of here…"

The black haired girl stared at my open fingers, contemplated many things which I dared not ask about. When she did come to decision, she placed her soft delicate hands into mine and allowed me to pull her off the ground and lead her to one of the nearby horses that had escaped the previous fight unscathed.

An hour later, Master Garrosh and I exited to forest where Lord Corchet and his party were waiting for us, the shivering girl's arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

/-/

"You really did singlehandedly take on a bandit gang by yourself," Williston mused. I raised an eyebrow at his comment while shuffling the cards around in my hands. We sat in one of the smaller rooms of the manor near the eastern wing. There were several small tables and cabinets set underneath the three windows on the left wall of the room. You could see a few of Delilah's old dolls she hadn't touched in a few years resting upon one of the cabinets in the corner and a few of Bachten's books could were still laid upon another small table with recently applied bookmarks hanging out from the side. This room had become more of a haunt for the children who resided within the manor.

"I did not singlehandedly take on a bandit gang. I was accompanied by Master Garrosh himself," I grunted in response. I split the deck into two piles before setting them into several neat rows.

"Ah, I suppose one more person makes such a big difference."

"It does when that one extra person is the world's best swordsman known to the realm," I retorted, finishing setting the cards into their positions before handing a five card deck over to Williston. He took them and gently placed them face down. "You give me too much credit."

"And you give yourself too little," the son of a noble replied before flipping one of his cards first card over, revealing an ace of hearts. "Your move."

Gently, I slid my hand over each hidden card, watching them conveniently appear in my hot bar momentarily before grinning slightly to myself. Flipping over the fifth card, I revealed the ace of spades. Williston sucked in an exasperated breath before handing his ace over to me. "I do swear that you've found a way to cheat this game."

"Oh, I have no idea what you could be talking about," I replied with a childishly innocent smile, taking the card and placing it atop the deck on my left. Williston watched me straighten my cards out quickly before he spoke once more.

"What do you think of the girl," he asked curiously. I was not caught off guard by the question. Most people in the manor were thinking about her and the situation she was in.

"I think she's got a tough life ahead of her," was my response. "The world isn't kind to people without families. Even then, we can't track down any distant relatives because she refuses to talk. They're still picking through the ashes of her home for the bodies and maybe some hint to where they might find someone to take her in."

"She's that damaged, huh?"

"Hell, she looked brain dead when I found her." I spat while shaking my head. Williston made a move to flip over another card before we both heard the click of the door handle being turned. We watched the white painted wooden door slowly slide open by the hands of a small scrawny maid to let Delilah in. We watched her lead everyone's favorite topic into the room gently by the hand, followed by Bachten.

"Speak of the devil-," Williston mumbled only loud enough for me to hear.

"-and he shall appear…" I quietly finished for him while watching Delilah bring the black haired girl over to one side of the room. Bachten silently found his way over to where his books were resting and began to flip through the pages. Williston and I both watched Delilah talk to the girl, most likely just friendly conversation. Unfortunately, it was completely one sided. The girl sat there, nodding every once in a while and even more rarely making a small sound in response to certain things. Yet she never said anything that could count as a word.

"Don't know what I would do if I lost everything just like that. Guess it's to be expected that some people end up like that," Williston whispered. I nodded in agreement before realizing that the room had gone deathly quiet without our normal conversations. Deciding to make the aura less awkward, I began to rummage for a different topic.

"I heard that your father was going to summon me tomorrow in private?" Williston glance up in surprise. "Well I just heard from some gossip. It's probably false more than anything"

"No, I'm sure that he might. He has actually been meaning to talk to you for quite some time, but never had the chance," Williston assured me. I watched the boy scratch the side of his head in thought before shrugging. "Though I'm not sure why. I assume that he either wants to voice any concerns with your apprenticeship to Master Garrosh, or… the new opportunities in Asramore that might interest you."

"Opportunities in Asramore, you say?" I mused, his second guess piquing my interest ever so slightly.

"Apparently, there was an elite group of Arcadian Peacekeepers who were charged with keeping stability within the Alkali regions. At some point, they all perished in combat. The officials won't really say when this happened, but they called this force the… Guardians? It's so strange, I've never heard of such a fighting force before," he said before frowning. "You wouldn't happen to know of these Guardians, would you?"

Arcadian Peacekeeper forces originated of a sort of center power system known as the Arcadian Council. After the end of the Archaic Wars, no kingdom, big or small, wished for another war. Economies were ruined, lives were lost by the millions, and entire royal family bloodlines were lost in conflict. At some point, despite the bad blood, representatives got together and agreed that they needed a central power to keep everyone in line, one where each power could keep the others in line never gaining or losing representation.

The main council, being based in the city of Asramore which could be found in the center mass of the continent, had become one of the most diverse populations ever seen amongst the lands. People of all sorts of cultures could thrive amongst each other while knowing that violence against one another would not be tolerated. Was there discrimination against others? It would be naïve to say no. There would always be those who held ill will towards what was unlike them. Despite that, the city grew faster than any other city had done so before. Job opportunities were plentiful, the crime rate was relatively safe despite the influx of immigrants, and the ruling council was backed by over nearly fifty-four different powers, the main four being Alkaline, Alkali, Lanthanide and Actinide kingdoms.

It was surprising, the amount of smaller powers that existed. Despite being a colossal landmass, almost rivaling the idea of a super continent, four main powers had control over the majority of the land. Most of these smaller powers were barely visible on the map, some even being under direct control of one of the four main powers.

"N-no, actually I've never heard of such people. I would think that if they were so elite that they would be more prominently known, Alkali being directly south of the Alkaline Kingdom." I cursed myself for stuttering the lie, but Williston did not catch my slip. "You are sure that they were called Guardians?"

"From what I've heard, yes. Wardens of the lands, protectors of the people," Williston whistled. Guardians… that meant players. Players like me, like Master Garrosh. Had Garrosh and his generation operated under Arcadian rule? He never mentioned anything of the sort. From what he did tell me, it sounded more like the Guardians were a freelancer force who operated within their own moral code of justice. I would have to ask him about it later.

"So how does this create these so called… opportunities?" I questioned, bringing the noble boy back on track.

"Ah yes, well apparently there has been a bit of a lacking in the Peacekeeper manpower. From the propaganda posters they set out all over the region, they're now recruiting for the next Guardian forces and not just to fill in the vacant ranks. They're going to be enlisting for the next five years to expand their control over the rest of the entire continent."

"And martyring the previous Guardians?" I accused. Williston brought his hands up defensively.

"Don't shoot the messenger," he said before finally lowering them. "Though it's not really that bad of an idea. They need the new troops. The Alkali regions have apparently been growing more restless, and now I understand why. With the lack of such a military force, turmoil is bound to stir."

"So they're just taking anyone?"

"Ha! Anyone around the age of sixteen can enlist for training. A lot of common folk see it as a way to elevate their status, but there's just one issue…"

"Its suicide," Bachten suddenly jumped in from his readings. He hadn't looked up, but instead turned the page as he spoke. This was by far, the longest I had ever heard the bookworm speak. Most of what he said consisted one word phrases, just barely more sociable then the orphaned girl in the room with us. "Anyone with half the brain of an average man should be able to tell that enlisting was equivalent to signing a death warrant."

"Yes, thank you. Well there have been… a few leaks as to why the original Guardian's were wiped out. Most consist of them being sent on a suicide mission against some… powerful enemy. Whatever it was, the Arcadian Council really wanted to keep that quiet," Williston finished with a wave of his hand. "Then again, the force was made for a good cause. Keeping peace and order is one of the best goals to have right now."

"Kill bandits," a small peaceful voice said. Williston and I both glanced over to the black haired girl who sat on the floor, eyes drawn to the floor. Delilah was shocked that she had spoken now of all times. "They kill bandits."

Williston visibly gulped, smart enough to realize why she was focused on that specific idea.

"Ah so she does speak," Bachten hummed as he flipped another page without much care.

"Y-yes, I do suppose that one of their objectives would be hunting down bandits," Williston stated. I watched the girl slowly nod her head before going silent and still once more. Delilah doubled her efforts to engage the girl in a conversation, but that one moment was all any of us would get from her for a long time. Williston turned back to me with a grimace.

"Can't help but feel I just convinced someone to enlist," he whispered. I leaned forwards and gazed into his eyes.

"That's because you have, bud."

/-/

"Guardians working under the Arcadian Council?! Ha! I've never heard of anything more ludicrous!" Master Garrosh spat before grabbing another vial and slamming it down roughly onto the table in front of me. We sat in one of the old sheds outside the manor where the previous constructors of the manor had lodged while working.

"I thought that too. Yet from what Williston tells me, they're martyring them. They've formed a new peacekeeper force under the same name. I also think that someone's spreading rumors and stories about the previous Guardians," I informed him while eyeing the glassware. I admired the distorted view on the other side before sitting up straight. "I think they're trying to base this new force off of a fake peacekeeper group."

"Aye, your right. The Guardians never once did anything for the Arcadian Council directly. Though the rumors that we were wiped out by some powerful enemy? That's too accurate to be a coincidence. Someone is basing these peacekeepers off of us, and I've got no idea why." Garrosh grunted, pulling a small cloth out and resting it over the small vial.

"From what I hear, they're actually going to be pretty similar to what you did."

"Peacekeeping? It's in the name, I suppose. If they do what we do, even if a bit toned down and regulated, then I'm fine with it. Maybe there won't be a need for you to take up the mantle when you're ready," he told me quietly.

If I last long enough to become ready, I thought. I did not voice this, because I knew how he took such negativity towards our success.

"So what's this for?" I asked, motioning towards the glass vial under the small cloth that hid it form view. "Are we getting into brewing?"

"As useful as it may be, no. We're scrapping all physical training, culture lessons, and conventional powers for now and moving on to [Code Breaker] only." Master Garrosh replied. That meant no more swords fighting, or anything related to regular Minecraft.

"Why?"

"You already know why. You felt the chills, no?" Garrosh said, glaring me in the eye. I shivered under his heavy gaze and nodded. While the winter had hit us hard, I would often get an odd feeling of darkness. It was like death was breathing into my ear and it made me tremble despite my incapability to feel fear.

"He's coming soon… isn't he?"

"Soon? He might wait another decade or come tomorrow, being how sporadic he is. That doesn't mean I like to take chances. Your first lesson for today will be one of the most difficult you have ever faced," he stated, pulling out a nearby wooden chair and sitting in it across the table from me. The cloth covered vial sat between us as I listened patiently. "This bottle here? Lift it."

I made a move to grab it, but I was stopped by an annoyed growl.

"Without touching it…"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me, now do it," He stated. I left my mouth hanging open slightly in shock. In every lesson I had received before, I had always received pointers. There was always a technique he gave me to use to accomplish anything related to [Code Breaker]. For [Sight Seeing], I had to imagine a clock and I could view the past. Yet for this? I was told to simply do it. There were no tips, no hint, and not a single helping hand to support me. It was like trying to solve a Quadratic Equation without the formula.

"Eh…"

"You're stuck, no?" He'd already known I would struggle. "I already know your problem, lad. So let me ask you, what is Minecraft?"

"A voxel sandbox game?"

"Then tell me what a sandbox game is," he pressed further persistently. I bit my lower lip and thought.

"A game where the player controls what happens in the world, where there is no real storyline and everything that happens only occurs because you or another player does so. Where you can create what you want, destroy what you want, and do what you want," I answered, almost proud of such a detailed answer.

"Yes, now look at [Code Breaker]. It is no different. You are the master," he said, getting up from his chair and walking around the table towards me. "What you wish to happen can happen, and what you want to occur can occur. You have the ability to create, destroy, and do anything within [Code Breaker]. Like a sandbox game, there is no guideline, only imagination and freedom. What you want to happen-

I watched him thrust one of his hands forwards towards the bottle. Just like that, the bottle began to rise, the cloth draped over it slightly sliding off. It did not shake or wobble. It just perfectly rose off the table as if it were being raised by an invisible flat plain.

"-can be ordered to happen." He dropped his hands and the bottle gently fell back to the table, not even making a sound of impact as it came to a rest. "Now, do it."

I nodded and slowly, I held my hand out to the bottle.

"I don't suppose I really need a hand to do this, do I?" I guessed.

"If it helps form the idea that you can lift objects through channeling power through that hand, sure why not?" Garrosh snorted from the chair he was once again resting in.

So from then, I spent the entire afternoon sitting in the old building, glaring at the bottle under a piece of clothe as I patiently told it to rise in my head. One hour passed without a single success. Master Garrosh sat quietly and patiently as I blew away an entire hour staring at a bottle. The only movement we really did was blink.

After that I tried another approach. I demanded the bottle rise with force and authority during my third hour, forming the mindset that I had complete control over it. I thought that maybe if I believed that it bent to my will and that all things could, then maybe it would do so like a servant. When that too failed to work by the fourth hour, I then tried to coax it like a mother in my head. It was all mental games, but not for the bottle.

By the fifth grueling hour, my hunger bar was nearly at the point that I would need to stop and eat, but I feared for the possibility of losing any progress I might've made. The bottle had to be moved through my own motivation. It was how I perceived the action to occur. I needed to believe that the bottle could rise through my own will no matter what manner I desired it so.

"Well done," Master Garrosh said. I was brought out of my thoughts to see the glass bottle floating ever so slightly off the table by a mere inch or two. It was not comparable to my Master's display, but it was acceptable none the less. Although, I still felt a bit of emptiness at my accomplishment.

"That felt… too easy."

"You're on your fifth hour, lad. You want to call that easy?"

"But… all I did was just…"

"Think? That's how it works. Many of us during my time failed to comprehend this idea, and never could fully master it. It is not hard to really do this, not until you begin to wear down on yourself. I'm just glad that you're not one of those who couldn't even get past this early stage. Feel proud of yourself, lad. You're on your way there."

"I g-guess so," I stuttered, scratching the back of my head nervously at the praise. "Is it time we join the others for dinner?"

Master Garrosh grinned, his older features failing to hide the evil behind it. He stepped forwards, grabbed the floating bottle, and slapped it back down onto the table. This time, he straightened out the cloth so that it was covering the entire bottle perfectly. With a small pat on the shoulder, he took a step back and told me my next objective.

"Now change it into a stick."

/-/

At the end of one month, the quiet girl was now leaving the manor. She could've stayed most of us wanted her to. While she did not socialize with anyone, she did commonly watch Williston spar with Master Garrosh and on the more rare occasions, spar with me. She seemed devoid of purpose and goals, all of those being torn from her with the loss of her family. A few days after being well fed and nursed back to proper health, she had left for a day so that she may witness her families' burial. It was made sure that each body would be hidden away under a cloth so that she may not see the charred remains.

Yet it was obvious that she always had that small spark when she saw us train with the sword. The wielder of a sword was not a soldier, he was an artist. You swung your blade like a painter, every stroke and swipe holding meaning. Williston and I both knew this well enough. Master Garrosh held this belief to the heart. This girl seemed to grasp the idea by merely observing.

Her name was Imyne and not many of us really knew her last name. I was sure someone knew, likely one of the guards her escorted her to the ruins of her old home. I had just yet to ask at this point. Williston was right when he told me he thought he had accidently convinced her to join. When a trader traveling through Korcha came through, she learnt from the talkative maids that he would travel to Asramore soon to sell furs and other such animal parts. It was soon obvious why she wanted to go to Asramore. She desired to enlist as a Guardian Peacekeeper. I personally had no right to stop her, but I did not feel it was right for her to go.

Her motivation was likely based purely on vengeance, despite her lack of emotion. While understandable, her loss being at the hand of bandits themselves, it was never right to breed negative emotions. Anger clouded judgment. Grief weakened the mind. It was one of the benefits of being a player: we did not naturally feel these things.

The day came when the trader stopped by to pick her up that we said our farewells to her. She did not reply, but merely nodded in acknowledgement. The snow fell lightly, but that did not stop the cold. Delilah gave her a quick friendly hug, Bachten said her off with his best wishes, Williston wished her luck on our endeavors, and Lachnet wasn't even present, and I decided I would escort her to the caravan which waited outside the gates.

"Things aren't always what they seem, you know," I mused as I walked by her side. Her hair was cut short around her shoulders, and she had about an inch the past couple of months. She would be taller than me in a few years. Her skin was, surprisingly, without a single blemish. I found myself comparing her to a noblewoman. "You wish to join the Guardians?"

Imyne glanced at me before nodding slowly.

"You have at least… what four years before you are off age to enlist for recruitment training? During that time, watch yourself. Guardians are more than just another peacekeeper force and not everything that goes on is black and white," I advised right before we passed the gate. I examined the man waiting for us, a scrawny fellow with a straw hat over his head and his wife waiting atop the cart. The snowfall was already piling up over the tarp covering the contents and the oxen that were strapped to the front had clouds of white puff spewing out of their nose. It took one more look at Imyne to notice that she was shivering, only wearing a light coat over the thin tunic. Slowly, I took the large fur coat over my own shoulders and wrapped it around her. She accepted it graciously, letting herself smile weakly.

"If you were freezing, you should've asked for something heavier," I muttered before patting her on the shoulder lightly. "Good luck. If you really do become a Guardian, perhaps we may see each other again at some point."

It was unlikely, but I felt that telling her that might lighten her mood. I turned on my heel and made to return back to the manor before a tug on my sleeve stopped me. Glancing back, I saw a small hand gripping left arm of my leather tunic.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely audible. I put a hand over hers and squeezed reassuringly.

"Least I can do, now get going. You have a long ride ahead of you."

AN: Introducing Imyne, who becomes important later on in the story. I also wanted to show the bantering relationship between Williston and Tusk. So then what about Cecily? She's not really that important to the plot, so you won't really see much of her. I hoped that I could create an impending sense of doom, one that makes it feel like Tusk knows he will die soon despite what Garrosh tells him.

Do you think Tusk will survive?

See you all next chapter...