Travels

William made his way to the bailey, where spring was in full bloom. A garden near the castle walls exploded with color, the bright flowers a stark contrast to the gray stone of the castle. Staff bustled about, attending to the day’s work as if it were any other morning. But for William, it wasn’t just another day. His pack felt heavier with each step, its weight pressing down on him like a reminder of everything that lay ahead. What am I walking toward? he thought. My triumph? Or my failure?

No one paid him any mind as he passed. To them, he was just another young man preparing for the trials. The gravity of what he and Matthew were about to face seemed invisible to everyone else. Guess no one thinks about it until after the fact, he mused bitterly.

The bailey itself was busier than he had expected. It seemed like half the continent had turned out for the pilgrimage. Dozens of wagons, horses, and travelers from all kingdoms formed a sprawling, chaotic mass that stretched across the open yard. Merchants shouted as they loaded last-minute provisions, their voices competing with the clatter of hooves on cobblestones. A pair of blacksmiths worked furiously to repair a wagon wheel, their hammers ringing in unison. Children darted between clusters of people, laughing as they chased each other, oblivious to the gravity of the journey ahead.

“Ah, there’s my brother!” Matthew’s voice broke through William’s thoughts. He was standing by a wagon piled high with supplies, grinning as usual. “Finally! We can leave.”

Before William could reply, Matthew grabbed his pack and flung it onto the heap. “What did you pack? Bricks?” he teased, clapping William on the back. “Anyway, let me introduce you to our crew. These fine folks are Sir Marcus and Dame Carissa, our Knights of the Guardians for this journey.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Careful—Carissa’s a bit of a wildfire.”

William’s gaze shifted to the two knights. Sir Marcus stood tall and composed, his presence commanding respect. His weathered armor bore the marks of countless battles, and his expression was unreadable, though not unkind. Beside him stood Dame Carissa, a stark contrast. She was petite, her golden hair braided neatly, but there was an energy to her—a spark in her sharp eyes that hinted at something unpredictable.

“So,” Carissa said, stepping forward and giving William a once-over. “This is the other twin. Let’s hope you’re as sharp as your brother claims to be.”

William stiffened. “And you’re as wild as he claims?”

Carissa raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

William exhaled, shifting his pack as he turned to take in the scene one last time. The energy of the bailey, with its swirling activity and cacophony of sounds, felt both familiar and distant now. This was the last he would see of home for a long while. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Matthew doing the same, his twin’s gaze lingering on the castle walls before flicking to the wagons assembling in the courtyard.

Sir Marcus and Dame Carissa stood a short distance away, attending to the harness of their horse. Marcus worked methodically, checking the leather straps, while Carissa rested a hand on the animal’s flank, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if already anticipating trouble.

Nearby, children dashed between the wagons, their wooden swords and makeshift shields clattering as they chased each other. Their laughter rang out above the hum of preparations, a bright, fleeting moment in the weight of the day.

“Are they all going to be knights?” a boy’s voice piped up from the crowd near the gate.

William turned to see a small child, his face smudged with dirt and his wooden sword tucked into a makeshift belt. He clutched a straw shield as though it were made of steel, his wide eyes darting between the travelers.

Matthew caught the question too and knelt slightly, his grin easy and warm. “Not all of them,” he said, glancing at the bustling crowd. “Only a few will make it through the trials.”

The boy frowned, clearly puzzled. “How do you become a knight? Do you fight monsters and win?”

William smirked but said nothing. Matthew, ever the patient one, answered, “It’s not just about fighting. Knights of the Guardians protect something bigger than just people.”

“What’s bigger than people?” the boy asked, tilting his head.

“The crystal,” William interjected, his voice steady. “It’s not just a treasure or a weapon. It holds the truth of balance—between kingdoms, people, even the land itself.”

The boy’s brows knitted in confusion. “What’s balance?”

Before Matthew could answer, Sir Marcus turned slightly. His voice was calm, almost somber. “Balance means sacrifice.”

The boy hesitated. “Sacrifice?”

Dame Carissa, leaning casually against a wagon, grinned but spoke more seriously than her expression suggested. “It means putting what’s right above what you want. The trials are to see if anyone here can do that.”

The boy’s gaze darted to the caravan, as if he could suddenly spot the ones who would succeed. “So it’s like a big test?” he asked, his tone laced with awe.

“It’s more than a test,” Matthew said, standing to his full height again. “It’s a way of life. The trials don’t just find warriors—they find those who can carry the weight of the crystal’s truth.”

The boy’s face scrunched in thought. “And what happens if you fail?”

No one answered.

A horn sounded, low and deep, cutting through the noise of the bailey. The knights moved into position, Marcus climbing onto his horse while Carissa motioned to the wagon drivers to form up. The murmurs of the crowd grew quieter as the travelers assembled.

Sir Marcus cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “If we’re all acquainted, we should be moving. The road ahead isn’t as safe as it used to be.” He glanced at William and Matthew, his tone firm. “Stay sharp, boys. The journey to the sacred grounds is just the beginning.”

Matthew placed a hand on William’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s time,” he said softly. His easy grin was back, but there was an edge to it now, a quiet tension that William recognized all too well.

The boy watched as the caravan began to shift and move, the wagons creaking into motion and horses stepping forward in rhythm. He lingered near the gate, his straw shield drooping slightly as the group passed. William caught his gaze one last time, the boy’s earlier excitement now replaced with a quiet sense of wonder—and maybe a touch of fear.

The crowd thinned as the caravan moved beyond the gates, their chatter fading into the open road. The sacred grounds lay ahead, and the air seemed to grow heavier as they left the safety of the castle behind.

As they began to move, William noticed the other travelers falling into line. It was a diverse crowd, far larger than he had anticipated. Some rode on horseback or in wagons; others walked, their packs slung over their shoulders. The caravan stretched nearly the length of the bailey.

At the front, a pair of armored siblings—Eleanor and Halric—rode side by side. Their polished steel glinted in the sunlight, and their matching crests marked them as nobles from another kingdom William and Matthew once visited as children. Eleanor’s expression was sharp and focused, while Halric seemed to enjoy the attention their presence drew.

A short distance behind them, a wiry youth named Elric strummed a lute as he walked, his tuneless humming cutting through the chatter. His companion, a tall woman named Hana, carried a bow almost as tall as herself. She kept an amused eye on Elric, rolling her eyes whenever his songs grew too outlandish.

Not far behind was Tobias, a broad-shouldered farmer whose nervousness was palpable. He carried a staff, though he wielded it like a plow handle. His clothes were practical and patched, and he seemed constantly distracted by his surroundings.

“This is madness,” Tobias muttered, his voice low but carrying. “I should be back home planting for the harvest.”

“You volunteered,” a voice teased from beside him.

Tobias groaned. “A fool’s choice. My brothers wouldn’t let me live it down if I stayed.”

William caught Marcus’s smirk as he listened. “Courage comes in many forms,” Marcus said lightly, addressing Tobias. “Even if you’re terrified.”

“Not terrified,” Tobias snapped defensively, but his trembling hands betrayed him. “Just cautious.”

“That caution might save you yet.” Carissa interjected, hoping to waver the man's wavering feelings.

But it was the figure near the tree line that caught William’s attention most. Cloaked in crimson, they moved with unsettling grace, always just within the shadows. Their presence felt like a whisper at the edge of his awareness—impossible to ignore yet difficult to focus on.

“Who is that?” William asked, his voice low.

Matthew followed his line of sight, his expression narrowing as he studied the distant silhouette. “I don’t know,” he said, his tone more serious than William expected. “But don’t get distracted. We have enough to worry about without chasing shadows.”

But William couldn’t shake the feeling that this figure wasn’t like the others. Their movements seemed too deliberate, too fluid, as though they were gliding rather than walking. Whenever William looked their way, he felt as though they were looking back, even though their face was hidden.

“Stay sharp,” Matthew added, his voice quieter now. But his words did nothing to ease the knot forming in William’s stomach.

More to come soon, I hope you enjoyed the story so far ❤️ BloominDaisy