1st Cylus, 717
Anos stepped off the ship gratefully, leading his horse behind him. The ship had stopped for the night, the sailors disappearing overboard the moment the captain had given the word- it was the first time they had been able to set foot on solid land since leaving Rynmere.
Almund, they had told him, was worth going to see. It was made primarily from old ships and wasn’t for everyone, but the tales of an odd, organic nature of the city peaked his curiosity.
He wandered for several breaks, gazing around with wide eyes- intricate carvings covered most of the door and window frames he could see. It was a city unlike any he had ever seen before. Slowly he made his way towards the Sapphire Inn, the best place to stay for the night, according to the sailors.
He tied up his horse outside and trudged up the worn stairs and inside. Loud music greeted him on his arrival, his stomach growling as the smells of cooking meat hit his nose. He strode towards the desk, dropping his bags in front of it.
The man behind the desk was busy scribbling something on a piece of paper, and Anos leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk.
“Hello, I’m looking for a room. Do you have any available?”
His head jerked up at Anos’ words, eyes narrowing. The man looked Anos up and down, his plain clothes obviously giving him pause. “Yes, we do,” he said at last. “We have several different options.” Another long pause. “What is your price range?”
Anos rubbed his jaw and looked down at his very flat purse. “Erm… not all that great?” The man behind the desk hummed disapprovingly and tapped his lower lip with a finger.
I don’t suppose you need any help around here? I’d be willing to chop wood, clean, cook, whatever you need in exchange for room and board?” Anos asked, a tinge of desperation entering his voice.
At this a broad smile crossed the man’s face and he nodded. “Well in that case, yeah, we might have a room for you. The name’s Jerris,” he said, holding out a hand.
Anos grinned widely and shook his hand, but held up a finger as a thought occurred to him. “Anos. Do you have any stables? I’ve a horse outside that needs shelter for tonight.”
The man waved a hand, as if that weren’t an issue. “Just leave your bags here and I’ll show you what needs to be done.”
Complying, Anos dropped the bag under the desk, the clinking sound drawing the man’s attention. His chainmail had been tucked safely away but a corner fell out of his bag as he set it down. Jerris raised an eyebrow at him, but made no comment.
He scooped up a candle from the table and led Anos out a small door to an even smaller courtyard, hemmed in by buildings on every side. Half a dozen large logs sat across the yard, though how they got there was beyond Anos.
“Axe is in the corner, saw beside it. Cut them up, then split them and then we’ll feed you.” He paused for a moment, looking Anos up and down. “Though I daresay you look like you’ll eat us out of house and home.” He turned and lit several torches that adorned the walls, illuminating the area better.
Anos grinned widely at Jerris and chuckled. “Ah, I doubt it’ll be that bad.”
Jerris grunted and turned back inside, leaving Anos to his task.
“I appreciate you doing this, though,” Anos said, the door slamming halfway through his sentence.
Shrugging to himself, he found the axe and saw right where Jerris had said they’d be. Both showed some signs of heavy use- a smoothness of the handle, a few small dents- but they were obviously well cared for.
Starting with the saw, Anos marked out several lengths of log and began cutting. He started with the energy of those who have rarely done manual labour, and within a few bits his strokes slowed. His arm and shoulder burned with every pull, and he was barely halfway through the log. He groaned, shifting his stance and began awkwardly sawing with the other hand.
By the time it fell, he was exhausted. Painfully, he rolled it over onto its side and hefted the axe. This was something he had a bit more experience with- he’d done this as part of his chores in the orphanage, under strict supervision, of course.
It whistled through the air and thumped into the wet wood, yet not splitting the log. He rocked it back and forth, loosening the blade, before swinging it overhead again and aiming for the same spot. His aim wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. Five more swings, and the log split in two.
Leaning down, he grabbed the pieces and stacked them by the wall. A cry interrupted his work, and he looked up just as the seagull landed. It perched on the log he had cut, squawking at him and looking about.
"Sorry, buddy, but there's no food here for you."
There was another loud cry of protest before the bird took of and he leaned back to watch it leave.
Anos sighed as sweat dripped down his nose. He looked at the rest of the wood left and sighed again.
What did I get myself into?
________________________________________
The breaks had felt like arcs, but he was finally done. The eternally dark sky was deeper now, as if you could feel the weight of the stars pressing down on it. The logs were neatly stacked along the wall, drying for next arc. His arms felt like lead and his back burned every time he bent over.
Sitting at the table in the common area, Anos waited eagerly for his meal. He watched platter after platter of food come out, all handed out to others waiting nearby with large mugs of beer and loud, boisterous voices.
When at last it came, he was nearly ready to take off the waitresses hand. The mutton and cheese looked delicious, and Anos attacked it the moment it was on the table.
He groaned audibly, earning a look from her. Anos was beyond caring- he hadn’t eaten all trial. The food vanished impossibly fast, and a complimentary tankard of something alcoholic washed it all down.
He leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh as he watched the performer. Every part of him had already hurt- by the seven, even his fingernails hurt, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Rising gingerly, he nodded his thanks to the waitress and returned to gather his belongings. Jarris was waiting, and he led Anos to a small door in the center of the building.
No view for me, I guess, Anos sighed to himself.
The door opened and Anos gazed inside in surprise. “Wait, this is the room I worked for?”
Jarris’ teeth glittered in the light.
The room was barren, though it held a faint odour of stale beer and vomit. A small bed was in the center of it, plain wooden frame with a lumpy mattress.
“Oh come on! Are you kidding me?”
Jarris merely smiled. “Aye, this is the room. If you don’t want it, don’t feel obligated to stay,” he continued, his smile shrewd and all business.
Anos was stuck now. He could refuse, but then he’d have wasted his whole trial and wind up sleeping on the streets. This had to be better than that.
“Bastard.” He sighed and entered the room, expecting Jarris to leave him the lantern.
“Sweet dreams,” he said as he closed the door, leaving Anos in total darkness.
________________________________________
He awoke some time later, though it was impossible to tell exactly how long it had been. The total darkness of the room was an illusion- cracks and faults between the boards let enough light in to see by, once your eyes adjusted. The noise was still loud- people had yet to go home for the night.
Anos looked around, confused by what had woken him, and got to his feet. The bed was smelly but more comfortable than the floor, though as he rolled his aching and stiff shoulders he began to question that.
The door burst open at once, Anos throwing up a hand as the light stabbed at his sensitive eyes. He heard shouting, a shadow obscuring the light momentarily before the door was slammed shut again.
He heard an indistinct grumbling sound, and he cautiously called out, “Hello? Who’s there?”
The grumbling stopped suddenly, an intake of air that left the room silent in its wake.
“Um… Hello?” Anos called out again, feeling for the wall behind him. His eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness again, and he couldn’t tell who or what was in this room with him.
“What’re you doin in here?” A gruff voice slurred out. “This supposed to be my room.”
His voice grew louder as he spoke, and he was nearly shouting by the end. Anos’ eyes were adjusting and he could see the outline of the man standing in front of him now.
“No, this is my room. I worked for it- ask Jarris.”
That appeared to be the wrong thing to say. With a loud growl that was more animal than human, the man charged for Anos. He was across the room in two steps, his body slamming into Anos with a force that took his breath away. He felt a fist slam into his ribs once, twice, three times as he fell backwards, cracking his head against the wall.
Stars swam in his vision and his body went limp under the attack. Whoever the man was, he was far shorter than Anos, but what he lacked in height he made up for in girth. The stale, unwashed smell of him assaulted Anos’ nostrils as the man pushed himself up to his knees, lifting his fists back to hammer at Anos.
His eyes had adjusted now- he could see the fist coming in startling clarity. He saw where it would go, and tried to make his body move, roll out of the way. His back protested, the muscles sore from a full trial of hard work.
He was partially successful. The fist that would’ve crashed into his temple rolled off the side of his head instead, and bashed into the wooden flooring.
The moment’s respite was all Anos needed. He remembered back to his training and bucked his hips, throwing the unsuspecting man forward where Anos’ forehead met the man’s nose. Blood poured over Anos’ face, and the man slumped off to the side. Not wasting a moment, Anos rolled away and against the wall, where he tried to push himself up.
The man didn’t give him the chance, launching himself forward to spear Anos with his head. From his viewpoint, it was painfully obvious what was going to happen, and Anos gritted his teeth through the pain. Grunting, Anos forced himself to leap out of the way. The man’s head cracked loudly against the wall, and he slumped to the floor, stunned.
Moving quickly, Anos leapt atop the dazed man, wrapping his arm around the man’s and pulling him into a shoulder lock. If the man tried to struggle, the pain in his shoulder would soon put a stop to that. His forehead wasn’t close enough to head-butt Anos, and his other arm couldn’t reach him.
“Stop it! By the seven, what’s wrong with you?”
The man, his senses slowly returning, grunted and strained his body. Anos tightened his grip, riding out the struggle.
“I said… Why are you attacking me!”
The tension left his attacker’s body, and the man slumped down. “I… Jarris. That sonufabitch thrown me in here three times in the last week. You ain’t supposed ta be in here.”
“In here?”
“Aye, that’s what I said, innit? This is his local drunk tank.” Anos could hear the derision in the man’s voice. “Throws those of us he don’t like in here until we settle our tabs, or till we sober up.”
Anos, sensing the hostility was done, loosened his grip and rolled away. The man lay on the floor, panting.
“This is the drunk tank?” Anos asked, things starting to fall into place. “Oh that Bastard.”
The man on the floor chuckled, the laugh turning into a cough as he rolled onto his side, looking up at Anos in the near-blackness. “That’s the spirit. What’d he do to you?”
Anos furrowed his brow at the man. “I already said- damn man had me work all trial for this ‘luxurious room’ and a meal.”
The man on the floor howled with laughter as if it were the funniest thing he had ever heard. “Aye, that sounds like him.”
Anos grumbled to himself, climbing back onto the small bed.
“Name’s Dirge.”
Anos reached over the side of the bed, lowering a hand down towards him. “Anos.”
“Well, there’s no point in us spending our time jabbering- he’ll be back at first light to kick us out. Might as well try to get some sleep.”
Anos grunted and rolled over, shifting as he tried to get comfortable.
The man on the floor grunted several times as he shifted, but within a bit his soft, rhythmic snores filled the small space. Anos followed suit shortly thereafter, the trials of the trial weighing heavily on him.
