Gareth

Certavi Et Vici

It’s been a month since I left the tavern on the edge of Arkhos, the kindling of my heart lit. i’d been wondering for that month, slowly making his way to the town that the traveller in the tavern told me of. I’d had been wondering, slowly making his way to the tavern he sleeps in now. I’d had been doing the odd job here and there, as I made his way through Arkhos, my homeland, one last time. But now I rest. For tomorrow I sets out into the Weft.

1 year earlier.

“Gareth, we need firewood soon, it’ll be cold night,” the tall man shouted

I swing my axe deep into the bark of the tree, sinking inches into the trunk. I draw back. And sink in again, lining my axe up with the grain. The thin tree begins to splinter and lean, then topples.

“Come help me carry the wood back Elys,” I yell back to the tall man.

“Fine, but i’ll tell your dad how weak you are” Elys yells back at me, as he runs forward.

Elys is my oldest friend, tall and slender. His father worked on my father’s farm for years before Elys and i were born, and so they became great friends. And by chance, or maybe the will of the will of the gods, Elys and i were born in the same year, about a month apart. Elys is my elder, but he certainly doesn’t act it. He would make a better Jester or bard than farm hand, but alas, no matter how hard i try he refuses to leave and adventure with me.

By this time of the day, the sun is beginning to set behind the hills, and the red and purple sky of the early evening fills the glade where we cut the wood for the fire. It’s late Autumn and you can feel the winter frost begins to come on the night air. My hands begin to Numb

“It’ll be nice and warm by the fire tonight” Elys mumbles to me, clearly struggling to carry the tree, “shame you still have to split the log”

“Shut up and focus on the log before you drop it” i call back, with significantly more ease than Elys “and dad made me split logs this morning, in case it was cold tonight.”

We make our way out of the cold glade, and onto the dirt path that leads from our cottage, out through the hills and down to the town. I say dirt, but it’s more mud after the recent rains. Our feet sink into the muddy track, and we speed into the cottage. Eager to get out of the cold night's air.

I wake with a jolt. The cold air of the morning biting against my skin, even through the thick furs i lay under. I’m slow to wake, my body not wanting to leave the warm embrace of my bed. But i am jolted awake by the rasp of a blade, sliding out of it’s sheath. I jump out of bed, still in my night clothes. I burst out the door, my long brown hair, falling across my eyes. But even with my view obscured, i see it. How could i not. I grow weak at my knees. My palms begin to sweat, my vision blurs with tears. I don’t numb from the cold, i numb from what is lying right in front of me. My father, his throat slit, and One of the Baron’s men holding an arming sword off to the side. I stumble back inside before the man could see me, my hands trembling. My mouth dries, and my mind fills with rage. I stumble for my father’s long sword. I take it off the wall hanging, and storm outside, almost kicking the door down in my rage. I shout to the who slit my father’s throat. But in my rage all that makes it out is a huge cry of anger. As my legs being to charge me towards this man. All the play fights with Elys, all my training from my father. It all led up to this. My mind is a blur, my body out of my control. I can hear the clashing of metal. I take a deep breath, and step back, clarifying my mind. I pull my arms into pflug stance and, then begin half swording, as i send the blade through the gap between of my assailants gorget and pauldrons, then slicing up, through his body, killing him.

My mind begins to calm, and i realise what i have done. I have killed one of the lord's men, i’ll be hung. I look around, to see if anyone saw. Then i see it… Elys’ body, lifeless with a roundel dagger through his collar bone. What do i do, everyone i loved lies dead at the hands of my lord.

1 year later

All i can remember from that day is running, and one day i will return and seek my revenge. I will kill the lord who ordered the death of the last family i had. From that day i ran, but now i will finally make a home for myself, in the tavern town, where the adventurous of the weft congregate. I’ve was told by the traveller from this tavern it’s a few days walk, and when i get there, to talk to a man called Jo’v, the tavern keep, and that he will help me on my journey.

**Gareth's Story Chapter 2**

work in progress