*Note: These took a lo longer to come out because i thought it would be better to read them all together; and partially because I have a disdain for being forced to follow some random character's perspective when I have no idea when it will end.
Having said all of that, I had a really fun time writing these side characters, and I hope that you'll have as enjoyable as a time reading about them as I had writing them.
*****
On the far side of the clearing, several metre's away from where the procession was currently stopped, one of the knights was treating his steed to a snack when—
Unprovoked, the dreadmare he had been quietly eating out of his hand became restless; shooting out quick, erratic breaths from its nose before thrashing it head violently, the fibbers of its lead snapping under the force.
—Neigh.
Orvin was not idle as his mount suddenly grew out of control—hands wrapped around the dreadmare's reins as he tried to keep it from bludgeoning him with its horns.
His seniors had told him stories on how they'd seen hardened dreadmare's ram through fortress gates, and despite his reservations, it wasn't something he was keen on confirming with his own body.
Especially when he was struggling to maintain his grip on one's reins.
"Easy girl…" Orvin tried to sooth her, but his voice came out wrong as she continued to fight against his hold.
And as much as he wanted to get away, he doubted his ability to get away in one piece—
The dreadmare jerked its head at an awkward angle, causing his footing to slip before its neck struck Orvin in the gut, nearly winding him.
"—AK!"
Yet his vice like grip on her reins never faltered.
Orvin was set on enduring whatever she threw at him until she tiered herself out—a task that proved itself to be much harder than he expected.
—Shruuk!
And then his he almost lost his footing as the thrashing grew fiercer, still.
"C'mon girl… just give me… a second!"
As his last attempt at soothing the dreadmare fell on deaf ears, Orvin shifted his attention inwards—to the pulsing core of energy beneath his navel.
Just as he was about to stir the energy within to action, a gruff voice called out from behind him:
"—old 'er steady, Rookie!"
He recognised the guard escort captains voice, but the situation didn't give him the time to give a proper greeting.
In the next breath, he heard the captain mutter something to himself before seeing a pair of gloves hit the ground in his peripheral.
"… Captain?" Orvin muttered, confusion bleeding through his laboured expression.
But he didn't respond, he just spat on his on either of his hands, rubbed them together before casually saying; "Alright, give 'er here."
Orvin hesitated for a moment, but he acquiesced feeling his grip loosening and stepped away from his mount.
What followed left him utterly speechless—the captain, without using a single ounce of mana, was evenly matched with the beast.
No… He was overpowering it.
A dreadmare.
One of which possessing the strength to uproot a mature tree, was currently being forced into submission by a single human.
'… Is he even human?'
Orvin found himself unable to believe what he was seeing even as it played out before him; the captain now had the dreadmare in a headlock—one hand gripping its horn while the other wrapped around its thick neck.
"Quit 'yer gawking 'n give me a hand."
The captain's voice broke him from his stupor, and he unconsciously performed a standard salute before his mind caught up with the action.
"Yes, sir!"
*****
—Fii-hew.
Orvin let out an exhausted breath as he slumped against a nearby tree, a sequence that made it look as though he was deflating instead of simply resting.
With the captain's help, he had finally managed to get his raging mount to calm down, but the entire thing still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Not that it had happened, but at how utterly useless he had been until the captain showed up.
Orvin gazed thoughtfully at his hand, flexing his fingers lightly as the moments played back in his mind.
Even through his gloves, he could still see the red marks on his palms where the reins had dug into the flesh of his palms.
The faint sting he felt beneath the creasing leather; each minute flex was like strumming along to a chorus about his own inadequacy.
Seeing how he couldn't even keep his own mount under control, Orvin was starting to doubt whether he was even qualified to be a knight.
His assignment was to protect the High Lord's son, but he was beginning to doubt if he was fit to be escorting someone so important.
As Orvin fell deeper into the pit of self-doubt and insecurity, a shadow fell over his face, stark against the tree's gentle shade.
"What's got you so down, newbie?" A jovial voice called out to him.
"…Huh?"
Orvin was a bit slow to respond, but when his eyes landed on the figure now stood in front of him, he scrambled to his feet to perform the necessary salute
Or at least, he tried to.
A hand pressed onto his shoulder stopped him before he could stand up.
"Seriously, newbie, you can stop with all the formalities."
The man let out a tired sigh, partially because this was the umpteenth time he had addressed his behaviour.
"The only person you have to be worried about is the captain, and even then—" He gestured vaguely in the captain's general direction, where the broad-shouldered man was laughing heartily while stood amongst the coachmen.
"—he's not the kind of man who wants to be above everyone."
"… Yeah," Orvin said in a small voice, he couldn't help but agree when it was playing out right in front of him.
The captain stood out like a sore thumb; his boisterous laughter like the bellowing of a large, but otherwise harmless, giant.
Any excuse he could have made about seniority felt as though it was weighing down on his tongue—especially not when everyone had been so welcoming, with all the talks of seniority being one's he had started to himself.
Almost as if he was setting up padding to excuse any of his future incompetence; a shield to fall back on whenever he failed.
Would it not be easier to fall back on his rank?
To blame his superiors, those who are above him in both age and skill, for not instructing him in a way that would have meant avoiding failure?
At those though came to mind, Orvin dropped his head in shame—a motion that held a different meaning to his fellow knight.
Seeing his expression darken, Jack began to think that he wasn't conveying
"I—listen, man. I wasn't trying to lecture you…I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't be so warry of us…
"Because at the end of the day, we're still your comrades, right?"
At the word 'comrade', Orvin finally raised his head to meet Jack's hazel eyes.
It was like a sweet melody that promised him something—the connection—he had been seeking ever since he left the sword school he had called home.
A place where the only view of the sky he felt most comfortable with was the one he saw through the reflections he had seen in the murky, stagnant water that had pooled in the cavities of the earth after a rainy day.
Even now, Orvin couldn't help himself from questioning the sincerity of the man before him.
Would the hand he desperately sought to grasp pull away at the last moment?
Tempt him with warm and comfort, and then when his guard is lowered, the only thing left to soften his fall is the soggy earth beneath him.
Yet despite the fear that gripped his heart like a vice, his yearning loosened those restraints just enough for him to squeeze his arm through.
Because even if he fell, at least it would be without regret.
At least, he hoped that would be the case.
Jack noted the way Orvin's eyes trembled, it was as though he was trying to keep himself from looking away.
It was also the first time he had held his gaze this long.
A smile crept onto his face, the sharp contours of his face making it look mocking instead of sincere.
Orvin tried for his own smile in response. It was shaky, and the way his lips twitched made it looked far more uncomfortable than it was meant to be.
But it was a start.
"Um—"
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Orvin was cut off as another voice spoke out from ahead of him:
"Really, Jack—we leave you alone for two seconds and you're already bullying the new guy?"
Jack turned to face the voice, his brow twitching in response. But he pulled back and spoke in an even tone, "No. I was just trying to be welcoming."
"Hahaha!!" Another voice, feminine, cut in through their laughter, "With that sleezy look on your face? You could have fooled me!"
"Says you, shor—" But before he could snap at them, an arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a headlock in one, swift motion. Their other hand placed a shushing finger on his lips.
"We're just messing with you, pretty boy. So, cool your furnace; you don't want to scare the rookie any more than you already have."
"Yeah, tell us if this rascal is trying to strong-arm you into anything—we'll get the captain to whip him into shape in no-time."
The female knight held a gloved hand out to the stunned Orvin, who couldn't be more confused as to what was going on.
She had a teasing smile on her face, but it softened at its edges as she wiped away a tear at the edge of her amber eyes.
"Don't take what he says to heart, he's just trying to look cool for the new guy."
And then she leaned closer to him, speaking in a loud whisper with a smirk on her face, "Just between you and me, not too long ago now, he was the nervous newbie who didn't even know where to stand.
"But don't let it all weigh on you too much—after all, this is your first real assignment. Just use this as a chance to adjust, and then in no time, you'll be the one breaking in the new recruits."
Orvin could only stare in response, but when she waved her empty hand in front of his face, he felt something inside him stir in response; urging him to grab hold.
And when he did, she pulled him to his feet with a force the belied her slender frame, at least, from what Orvin recalled was beneath her armour.
"Thanks…" He said in a small voice, standing with his hands stiffly at his side.
Orvin couldn't help his gaze from drifting downwards; from the armour plating on her shoulder, then to the Baylith family crest embroidered onto her surcoat, and then to the dull, flint pendant hanging from a piece of string tied around the pommel of her sword, before eventually settling on the ground beneath her boots.
It was not that Orvin didn't want to look her in the amber, but the energy around her was so overwhelming that it made it hard to meet her intense gaze.
To do that, he'd need to temper himself just a little—or maybe a lot—more before he could at least keep his head up when faced with her intensity.
"Hmm?"
Unbeknownst to Orvin's internal struggle, she let out a thoughtful hum before blurting out her thoughts, "Don't tell me that you've already forgotten our names, newbie?"
She gestured between herself and the man behind her, who paused—Jack still within his grasp—to look in their direction.
"S-sorry, w-w-what?" Orvin's tongue failed to properly deliver his question, or rather, it's stammering fit perfectly with how stunned he was at the thought.
"O-of course, not—ho-how could I ever forget my seniors' names?"
Orvin finally raised his head to face her, who had a teasing smile on her face as though she found his panic somewhat amusing.
Although, she'd prefer to say that she found him more endearing than entertaining.
The small twinkle in the corner of one of her amber eyes said that she had him right where she wanted him.
"Alright, then, what are they?"
"Um…"