Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain Read Online Free
Author: Kristopher Cruz
important thing to this house. Others of Balator may only want to fight to win, or to earn glory. That is not our way. We live to serve Balator. We live to serve the Spengur."
Talen rolled his eyes. "Not this again."
Daelen rounded on his middle son. "What?" he asked, barely keeping himself from shouting.
"Daelen, we haven't had a Spengur for years." Talen said. "You didn't have to watch one."
"I didn't."
"And grandpa didn't either."
"He didn't."
"When was the last Spengur we watched over?"
Daelen's eye twitched. "Fifty years. Our great-great grandmother protected the last Spengur, Carthur. And then before that we guarded Kaelob."
Talen shrugged. "So then even if the king allows another Spengur, then the other family will take care of him."
"Yeah!" Balen added. "The other children of Rothel."
"Rathe?" Joven asked.
"Yeah, Rathe." Balen said. "The first line of guardians."
Daelen sighed. "Listen. You kids may laugh at this now, but it's our family duty to be prepared to guard the Spengur. Rothel himself gave two of his children the charge to protect the Spengur, and we carry on their duty even hundreds of years later."
Daelen scratched at his scalp and tried to hold in his frustration. Behind the children, Leona watched him with a smile. The kids were rough and unruly, like all the other children of Balator. However, unlike other kids, these three had to start their training early. It cut out much of their social life, but that in and of itself was important. The bodyguards of the Spengur needed to stand out, to stand apart. They needed to be a cut above the rest.
"I'm not good at this talking thing, dammit!" Daelen exclaimed. He shook his head as he walked past them. "Go do your exercises! I'll try to figure out how to whip you unshaped brats into something resembling honorable men."
Daelen left them to their individual exercises. Designed early on in the beginning of their line, a yearly training regimen was passed down from fathers to sons over dozens of generations. Every month of a child's training was plotted, from the age of six until they reached sixteen. After ten years of exercise, diet, training, and combat both real and practice, it was boasted that a guardian line's training regimen could turn even a weak human from Ironsoul into a true warrior.
Leona remained leaning against the wall next to the back door, her smile faded. Daelen walked up next to her and leaned against the door, shaking his head.
"I don't know what I'm going to do." He said. "I know the training, I know what they need to do."
"You were taught that." Leona replied. "The training plates were very detailed."
She referred to the 120 hammered circular steel plates etched with each month's training forms. There were words written that could not be read, but every plate had been thoughtfully covered in detailed images of combat maneuvers, weight training and even the basic diet the subject needed. Each plate was two feet in diameter and weighed over ten pounds, and the first few plates denoted that the children use the very plate for training. Leona figured they were supposed to read the plate while doing the exercise, but they were written in their ancient language. No one had read it in centuries. People hardly spoke it either, after travelling barbarians adopted a simpler language common to most people they had discovered.
"Yeah, but I was not taught how to make them want to do this." he said with a sigh. "I'm much better at talking to men... and letting my axe do the talking."
Leona chuckled. "It's very persuasive, but if you tried that with my children I'd have to kill you."
"I know." he replied. He paused. "What should I do?" he asked.
Leona watched the boys go through their separate training regimens. Joven was swinging the training plate with both hands, his face red with exertion as he continued his exercises in earnest.
"Don't worry so much about teaching them." Leona said after a moment. "Make them do the exercises,
Talen rolled his eyes. "Not this again."
Daelen rounded on his middle son. "What?" he asked, barely keeping himself from shouting.
"Daelen, we haven't had a Spengur for years." Talen said. "You didn't have to watch one."
"I didn't."
"And grandpa didn't either."
"He didn't."
"When was the last Spengur we watched over?"
Daelen's eye twitched. "Fifty years. Our great-great grandmother protected the last Spengur, Carthur. And then before that we guarded Kaelob."
Talen shrugged. "So then even if the king allows another Spengur, then the other family will take care of him."
"Yeah!" Balen added. "The other children of Rothel."
"Rathe?" Joven asked.
"Yeah, Rathe." Balen said. "The first line of guardians."
Daelen sighed. "Listen. You kids may laugh at this now, but it's our family duty to be prepared to guard the Spengur. Rothel himself gave two of his children the charge to protect the Spengur, and we carry on their duty even hundreds of years later."
Daelen scratched at his scalp and tried to hold in his frustration. Behind the children, Leona watched him with a smile. The kids were rough and unruly, like all the other children of Balator. However, unlike other kids, these three had to start their training early. It cut out much of their social life, but that in and of itself was important. The bodyguards of the Spengur needed to stand out, to stand apart. They needed to be a cut above the rest.
"I'm not good at this talking thing, dammit!" Daelen exclaimed. He shook his head as he walked past them. "Go do your exercises! I'll try to figure out how to whip you unshaped brats into something resembling honorable men."
Daelen left them to their individual exercises. Designed early on in the beginning of their line, a yearly training regimen was passed down from fathers to sons over dozens of generations. Every month of a child's training was plotted, from the age of six until they reached sixteen. After ten years of exercise, diet, training, and combat both real and practice, it was boasted that a guardian line's training regimen could turn even a weak human from Ironsoul into a true warrior.
Leona remained leaning against the wall next to the back door, her smile faded. Daelen walked up next to her and leaned against the door, shaking his head.
"I don't know what I'm going to do." He said. "I know the training, I know what they need to do."
"You were taught that." Leona replied. "The training plates were very detailed."
She referred to the 120 hammered circular steel plates etched with each month's training forms. There were words written that could not be read, but every plate had been thoughtfully covered in detailed images of combat maneuvers, weight training and even the basic diet the subject needed. Each plate was two feet in diameter and weighed over ten pounds, and the first few plates denoted that the children use the very plate for training. Leona figured they were supposed to read the plate while doing the exercise, but they were written in their ancient language. No one had read it in centuries. People hardly spoke it either, after travelling barbarians adopted a simpler language common to most people they had discovered.
"Yeah, but I was not taught how to make them want to do this." he said with a sigh. "I'm much better at talking to men... and letting my axe do the talking."
Leona chuckled. "It's very persuasive, but if you tried that with my children I'd have to kill you."
"I know." he replied. He paused. "What should I do?" he asked.
Leona watched the boys go through their separate training regimens. Joven was swinging the training plate with both hands, his face red with exertion as he continued his exercises in earnest.
"Don't worry so much about teaching them." Leona said after a moment. "Make them do the exercises,
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