Morning dew clutches to kain's worn leather boots as they brush past the tall grass.
"There she is, lad," Kain's father leans against Sheppard's crook.
The two of them stand on a hill overlooking a colossal sinkhole - large enough to have swallowed a town whole.
The area around it, thick with shrubbery, kept the hole hidden from most anyone traveling through Ashbarrow's biggest forest.
"What is it?" Kain stares down in awe.
"A sinkhole; been here since before our family." Aran, his father, lets a warm smile push through his usually rigid lip as he looks down at Kain.
He was a boy no older than fifteen yet Kain was incredibly muscular, like a work horse. He was a good head taller than the other children and had been that way since the age of eleven, growing only slightly throughout the years.
"Alright come on boy; the suns getting low."
The two walk through the dark green bushes, the berries of which stain the fabric of their clothes a light purple.
The sun begins to set, plunging the road into darkness, only the burning lights from a small town nestled between the border of a bog and a plain.
The night became silent - the silence only broken by a guard's footsteps and slight jingle of a lantern as he patrolled the village's perimeter.
The small wooden houses only stir back to life once the sun begins to rise. Women begin washing and drying clothes whilst the men head to the fields, or follow behind Aran as he leads them into the forest, bows and spears in tow.
"Kain!"
a young girl around his age rushes towards him as he returns from waving his father goodbye.
"Hello Siena," he says, chuckling slightly to himself.
"Let's go do something" she whines, tugging on his arm.
The two of them run through the town, eventually coming to the start of the bog. They step carefully from patch of grass to patch of grass avoiding the water.
"Wow - look!"
Siena points one of her long fingers at the water where the bones of some animal rest, half buried in the mud.
"Probably a sheep," Kain replies, dismissing it entirely as he begins wading through the water.
Siena leaps onto his back without warning, Kain's foot slips as her sudden weight tips him forward, but he manages to catch himself before they fall. Her light chestnut hair mixes with his black hair as she hangs her head low, her eyes peak down at him from above.
"Sorry" she giggles, squeezing his sides with her knees like a horse. "Onwards"
Kain sighs, pushing through the mud and water, until they reach a large patch of pure white flowers. They both lay in the wet grass, watching as birds glide through the sky above them.
"I like this place," Siena rolls over to look at Kain, who's sat looking into the forest.
"Me too. But it's too boring." he turns looking down at her.
"Do you still want to be a knight - like you used to?" Her fingers comb through the white fur like flowers.
"I'm not a child anymore, Siena. Besides, I've never even held a real sword" he sighs, looking back at the village.
"Your dad used to be a soldier, why not ask him to teach you?" she plucks one of the flowers, placing it in her hair.
"He says I have no need for it." Frustration bubbles within Kain as time passes.
"Let's go home, yeah?" her warm smile washes away his annoyance.
He carries her back through the water, and even when they reach the land, he keeps her nestled into his back, wishing for the moment to last forever - until all too soon, they reach the village.
She slips down his back, brushing against him until her shoes finally touch the floor. They both turn, trying to hide their bright red faces from each other.
The other children run over, wooden swords in hand, clashing as they run towards the pair.
"Siena! come play with us!" the younger boys run circles around her.
"Kain, did you hear lord Braemoor is visiting later tonight? We're having a feast" Lannick smirks slightly. He was the son of the local blacksmith, but you would never have thought from his body: tall and slender for his age, with good looks to match. Rumours circulated that he was actually a bastard of some noble.
"What's the occasion?" A puzzled expression spreads across Kain's face before returning back to his usual forced stoic look.
Lannick shrugs. "Maybe to claim me as his son?" The other boys laugh, even Kain cracks slightly.
The day passes like any other - slow and agonizingly boring for Kain - until the time for the lord's arrival. The whole village stands in the middle of the square, as a parade of horses trot through their streets, a carriage flanked by around ten knights all clad in heavy armour stops and door swings open. Out steps lord Fenric Braemoor, warden of the western boglands.
Following behind him like pups are two children, a boy just older then Kain and a girl a few years younger. The family's bright blonde hair stood out along with their extravagant clothes. Kain thought to himself that the lord was shorter than he had heard.
The lord and his children are guided to the town hall by the village elder, where rows and rows of seats were laid out. Kain watches as their little lord and lady sit down at the side of their father. The young lord's hair was tied up with silver fabric that Kain had never seen before. Whilst the lady had bracelets made from gold studded with all sorts of gems - gems whose colour was so vivid he believed they must contain some kind of magic.
The drink flowed from flagons into cups, even the children were allowed a cup or two. The young lord sits, running his forefinger around the rim of his cup repeatedly with a listless look across his face.
Kain, Lannick and some of the other boys escape outside into the cold night. The sun has only just started to set, Kain stretches letting out groans as his aching legs finally stretched.
"Definitely not your father, Lannick" Norin, one of the younger boys chimes in. Lannick responds by rolling his eyes.
"I would hope not."
A voice oozing with conceit startles the group of boys.
"My father would never mix with some lowborn." The young lord walks out from a side door, followed by a giant man in plate armour.
"What did you say?" Lannick's face scrunches up, contorting into a surprisingly hideous expression and begins to walk towards the young lord, his fists clenched and knuckles white.
Before Lannick takes a step, Kain places a hand on his shoulder, dragging him backwards.
"Sorry, my lord; we meant no insult." Kain's smile, not reaching his almost black eyes, betrayed the contempt burning behind them.
"I cannot accept such a disrespectful stain on my father's name. You dare to claim yourself a bastard of your lord?" The sides of the young lord's mouth stretch into a smile that covers the boys with goosebumps.
"I demand a duel in honour of my father"
Now that Kain had seen the lord's son up close, he could see his towering figure hidden behind his dainty clothes and luxurious jewellery.
"Please, my lord - I've never even held a sword" Lannick's voice quickens with his pulse.
"Then you should not make such disgusting accusations at my father" he scoffs.
Kain opens his mouth, but no words come out. Only the cold air escapes as he stands frozen. After a few awkward seconds pass he manages to squeeze out his words.
"I shall fight for him." Dread floods Kain's body as the words fall from his lips.
"Fetch me two swords then" The young lord steps forwards looming over Kain.
The other boys scamper off leaving only Kain, Lennick, Norin, the young lord, and his personal knight in silence that lasts for what feels like an eternity. The younger boys rush over clutching wooden swords crudely carved - the wood spongy and warped.
The lord plucks one from the arms of a shaking child and snaps it over his knee "go get me the practice swords - I don't want to kill this lowborn" he tilts his head backwards, looking up at the knight behind him.
The knight vanishes into the town hall, returning shortly with two fine steel swords, the likes of which Kain had never seen.
"Are you quite done gawking?" The young lord snickers.
Kain takes up an awkward stance that even the silent guard standing behind the lord sighs at.
"Ready?" The lord twirls the sword in his hand.
Kain nods, he holds his breath in anticipation. The young lord swings from his shoulder, but has his sword flung away with a parry and is taken off his feet by a shoulder barge, sending him several feet backwards.
The young lord looks up at Kain, his mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"How dare you use pathetic tricks against a noble, you blithering fool" the young lord scrambles to his feet.
"Enough Cedric. You've made yourself a fool already; no need for more." lord Braemoor stands in the doorway looking down at his son.
"I'm so sorry - sir - I just -" Kain stutters and stammers over his words.
"No need, lad. I was watching for most of it," he dismisses Kain with a raised hand "your swordsmanship is sloppy at best. I suggest you work on it more if you intend to be a champion for anyone else" he chuckles. He turns to the young lord. "Apologise like a man, Cedric" his lord father stares down at his muddied son.
"I deeply apologise for my actions" the little lord kneels, tears barely held back.
Kain only manages to stammer out an acceptance to his apology. "It's alright" he awkwardly laughs.
"And your sword" the lord Braemoor's voice grows cold.
Cedric's hands shake in anger as he hands Kain his practice sword with both hands.
"Not that one" lord Braemoor turns looking over his shoulder as he returns to the party.
The young lord's once refined and intimidating appearance crumbles, as his teeth clench and tears roll down his blemishless face. He unbuckles the sword on him, handing it over, scabbard and all. Kain accepts, his expression frozen from shock.
The young lord stands and pushes off the mud, running as fast as his legs would take him. The knight rushes after him, leaving only the village boys standing in silence, as Kain stands still holding the sword.
The boys erupt into cheers, and help Kain fasten the scabbard onto his belt. They carry him back into the party where most of the adults had already had more than enough alcohol. Kain drank from wine cups like he had not drunk for days until he was unable to walk properly, as the hours passed and wine flowed the cups turned to flagons. On this night Kain would discover two things: he was good at fighting and drinking.
At the end of the night Siena finds Kain outside, emptying his guts against the wall of a house. She wraps his arm over her and carries him home, as she walks and he weakly drags himself, the sword brushes against her thigh.
"A sword?" She looks up at him in shock.
"I won it" his words slur and wrap around each other, like his tongue had a mind of its own.
"See I told you, you should actually train with it. You were quite good when we were younger" She smiles, not bothering to ask where or how they arrive at his house.
The door creaks open into the empty house, his legs drag behind him as they enter his bedroom.
"Goodnight Kain, get some rest, okay?" She helps him into bed.
He reaches down, grabbing the seam of his shirt and lifts it over his head, throwing it onto the floor before slamming his head into the straw-filled pillow. Siena's face turns beet red, as he lays barely covered by the wolf skin sheets.
"Rest well." She turns to leave, but stops dead in her tracks to look at a small doll resting on a shelf above the fireplace. She had made it in their not too long ago youth. Her embarrassment grows more and more, and so does the redness of her face, until it becomes too much and she rushes out of the house.