The land of Sol, a continent floating high above the surface amidst the heavens, far out of reach of mortal wars, or danger from invasion. The home of the Battle Gods of Sol, a people of eternal youth, incredible power, who can travel across the world of Mosao in a single step.

  Legends say that Sol has never faced famine, plague, war or strife--It is said that the people of Sol speak all tongues, that they are invincible Gods that can erase any Demon and Beasts that dare step out of the darkness of the Bottom World.

  But the land of Sol, far beyond the reach of mortal gaze, is more familiar to the people of the surface, than the legends claim. It is a continent, raised from the earth by the God Ignis in the Eighth age, over ten thousand years ago, and has been home to many Divine beings in ages long passed--Each God offering a blessing to mark this land.

  None of these Gods were more generous than the Goddess Sol, who slumbers at the center of this continent, named after her, offering all who reside upon the land of Sol, bodies which never age.

  But a promise was made to Sol, whose power keeps this land amidst the clouds, that the Warriors of Sol, would forever protect the people of the Surface, and so long as they kept their promise, she would remain asleep evermore.

  Should she wake, the land of Sol would fall back to the earth below, and the people of Sol would lose their land of eternal youth and safety from invasion.

  But today, Sol is no longer home to True Gods, a distinction that must be made--The people of Sol, are divine in title only, mortals in all but their God-like strength, their bodies age the moment they step off Sol just the same as any other mortal.

  The land of Sol is divided into seven countries, named Houses--Each ruled by a House Head, each with unique societies and traditions.

  But the story begins at the center of Sol, in House Conquest's capital city of Codeas.

  With white stone, red rooftops, and golden paved roads--The city of Codeas that surrounds the foot of the towering Mount Conquest, of which the House of Conquest is named.

  Codeas is not a massive city, it resides in the middle of endless pastures full of farmland, with windmills dotting the flat lands as far as the eye can see. Mount Conquest is a lone mountain, standing out amidst the endlessly flat horizon, so even if the mountain is relatively short, it stands above everything else in sight.

  Circling this mountain is a path that takes you all the way up to the top. This path is open to all in the City of Codeas below, however you must pass by many towers and gates along the way, each guarded by a handful of soldiers dressed in silver armor and red shawls. As you ascend the mountain, stairs are carved into its stone, paths are dug out of its terrain and bridges built across gaps--Leading to its top, which was carved out to be flat long ago so the Gods could build a massive castle of Gold and White Stone atop it.

  This is the Palace of Combat, glowing orange under the setting sun--The castle takes up almost the entire mountaintop, and even hangs over the edge of Mount Conquest. It overlooks Codeas in all directions, and is multiple stories tall--Towers with buttresses hang just over the side of the mountain, and from all corners of Codeas, the castle is certainly a sight that draws all eyes.

  It is from this Castle that the Head of House Conquest rules--Yet, within this Palace, there is something far more important to the people of Sol.

  When you end your trek up the mountain, and step through the tall entrance doors into the Palace, you reach a massive foyer--There is a pair of stairs that spiral both left and right yet both lead to a balcony overhead--From up these stairs, you are led further into this castle proper, with countless halls, and all manner of sights to admire, with red tapestry and carpets strewn about, marble tiles across the floor, golden walls--Massive white stone pillars that reach to the ceiling above, the ceiling covered in art, paintings of men, of woman--Of Warriors, or of their Wars.

  Down each hallway, you might find a room, a massive dining area, a kitchen, a place of storage--You will often find a massive window overlooking the city below, and in many of the bedrooms strewn about, you’ll be likely to see a balcony that hangs over the edge of the mountain, so that anywhere within the castle, you are never far from overlooking the city below.

  But back at the entrance, before you step foot onto the stairs, between the two staircases, right at the entrance of this Palace Of Combat--Is another pair of doors, guarded by two Soldiers, dressed from head to toe in silver armor, with golden accessories and red capes.

  This pair of Doors, is always to be guarded--As behind them is:

  “The Hall of Armaments!”

  An enthusiastic young girl, no older than eight--With bright silver eyes, and long, disheveled black hair--Stood not before these doors, but behind them.

  As she so confidently announced, this place was indeed the Hall of Armaments--It shares a decor with the rest of the Palace of Combat, yet at the same time: It is impossibly long.

  For those that step foot through the doors, they find a hallway, with a tall golden ceiling, and stained glass windows on both sides, in front of each of these windows, is a pedestal--Atop most of these pedestals, are weapons--Swords, knifes, bows, even pairs of gauntlets or a few shields--Behind each of these weapons, which can vary greatly in design, is an image, built into the stained glass windows, of a person.

  Some are men, some are women--Some are children, some are elderly--The people are not depicted in detail, there is no written name to remember them by: Yet, they are all mostly distinct from one another.

  There is no order to these weapons--But each pedestal is exactly six feet apart, a pillar reaching to the ceiling between each and another pedestal directly across the hall on the opposite side. The glass windows shine the setting sunlight into the hall, despite this hall being at the center of the Palace of Combat. Through these rays of light, dust can be seen falling with the stagnant air.

  The moment you step foot within the hall, the doors are closed behind you--And you stare down the hallway, yet your eyes, no matter how clear your vision, cannot hope to see the end.

  But before your eyes can wander in search of the Hall’s end, you are almost always greeted by a Man--Tall and skinny, with bushy eyebrows, straight and short brown hair and a monocle over his right eye, wearing a suit, tie and dress pants, all of brown, gold and red--With one hand behind his back, he approached the two guests to his hall today.

  Just behind this black haired girl, is a similarly black haired boy--With short and curly hair, but bright silver eyes just the same, he is taller by just a head or two than the girl. He is aged around twelve--Both children are dressed in black, plain clothes of identical style.

  “Ah, little miss Meah!”

  The man spoke, reaching his hand down to the girl’s head, shuffling her hair as he smiled, looking her in the eyes. “The youngest of your people to pass the First Ordeal, and stand to claim your Armament!” He spoke with a slight pride in his tone, as the young Meah pushed his hand away, his eyes then passing over to the boy standing right in front of the entrance doors.

  “And, the ever quiet Vista.”

  He approached the boy, noticing his closed off demeanor. “Had your sister not beaten you, this record would be held by you, not her.

  Two siblings take the first Ordeal, and succeed at such a young age--Was Gold going easy on you?”

  He asked, when the boy crossed his arms. “Had father let me challenge the ordeal earlier, I am certain I would have already passed it.”

  Vista responded, as the brown haired man smiled, pinching the boy’s cheek, before stepping back from the two. “No doubt! But let’s not dismiss your accomplishments!

  For around three thousand years, Vin has remained the youngest to pass the first Ordeal, and two of Davak’s children manage to overtake his record on the same day!”

  The girl stepped forward as the man spoke, glancing at the pedestals from afar. “Mister Damascus--Do we get to choose our Armament now?” She asked, as he shrugged.

  “You may pick from any weapon, or tool within this hall--Although, I may not allow you to choose certain weapons, yet.” He explained, as he started down the hallway, following behind the eager Meah.

  “We passed the first ordeal, shouldn’t we get to choose any weapon we desire?” The young Vista asked, as Damascus kept his eye on the eight year old, excitedly approaching a pedestal, but still ready to answer Vista’s question:

  “Under normal circumstances, a Warrior who has completed the First Ordeal is permitted to take any one Armament from this Hall.

  But, with such young bodies, I fear that the two of you may not be able to properly carry some weapons here.”

  Damascus explained, eying a sword that was almost three times the height as Meah’s entire body, a blade of blue, almost looking to be made of gemstones. “Take the Crystal Cleaver here, Warrior of Sol or not, can you imagine Meah being able to lift this sword?” Damascus asked, as Vista glanced up at the blade, and shook his head.

  Meah, on the other hand, seemed to take this comment as a challenge: “I bet I can!” She announced, attempting to climb the pedestal and grab the blade, only for Damascus to appear in front of her, grabbing her hand immediately.

  “Settle down Meah--Once you make physical contact with an Armament, it becomes bound to your Soul, and only death is known to be able to separate you from it--In other words, your choice will have been made, and cannot be unmade.”

  Damascus explained, as the young Meah retracted her reach, a frustrated expression on her face. “I just wanted to see if I could pick it up!” She complained aloud.

  “Even if it becomes bound to our soul, what problem would that be? Our Uncle Wayne has nearly a dozen Armaments--If we could not use the one we picked first, could we not pick another later?” Vista asked, as Damascus nodded.

  “Of course, once you complete the Second Ordeal, you may take as many Armament’s from this hall as you desire.

  But, unlike the battle of the mind you faced in your previous Ordeal, this second, more rigorous Ordeal will be a true battle against a real opponent.”

  Damascus monologued, then eying over the two children. “You will need your first Armament in order to complete the second, more difficult ordeal, and if you cannot even swing your sword: What hope would you have of defeating this challenge?

  Failure might result in death, and even if you survive, you will have to wait a full year before you can take on this ordeal again.

  As such, I would recommend your first Armament be one you are proficient with, a small sword, a knife--If you have some archery practice under your belt, even a bow might be a fine choice?”

  The man finished his lecture while turning to face the sword as he spoke, then rubbing his gloved hand against the pedestal below this gemstone blade, a trail of dust following his fingertip. “As there is no precedent set for such young champions to enter my hall, Davak and I have spoken and decided that I would moderate the choices you make.” Damascus made it clear, then turned back to face the two children.

  “Of course he would meddle in my choice.” Vista complained under his breath, yet his voice traveled across the echoing hall right to Dascasus’s ears.

  “You will find that adults tend to watch over children, despite your frustrations.” Damascus explained.

  “But we’re Warriors!” Meah eagerly shouted back.

  “Have you seen battle?” Damascus asked, as Vista stepped up to speak, before Damascus raised a finger. “I mean, real battle--Not an exercise or sparring match.

  You are children of Sol’s Warriors, but not yet warriors yourself--Strong as you might be for your ages, children can not escape the worry of adults.”

  Vista sighed in response, rolling his eyes, following Damascus down the hall as he glanced over the many passing pedestals and their weapons, even the stained-glass windows behind them, then he saw a pedestal that was completely empty, and the window behind was completely black. “Did someone take this Armament?” Vista asked.

  “Not quite--This pedestal has yet to be filled--Once an Armament is forged, the window behind it will be created alongside it.

  You will see empty pedestals that sit before Stained Glass visages, those are weapons that have been taken, only to return to the Hall of Armaments once the current wielder has passed on.

  But those empty pedestals in front of blackened windows like this one, are for Armaments yet to exist.”

  Damascus explained, Meah was listening intently as she looked at the black window. “How is an Armament forged?” She asked, as Damascus smirked.

  “Armaments are forged by the souls of your people, each time one of you passes, your soul will become a weapon that represents you in life.” Damascus responded, as Meah turned her sight towards the hall.

  “Does this place have an end?” She asked.

  “Who knows--I’ve been the caretaker of this hallway for nearly eight thousand years, and yet I’ve never bothered to go all the way down.” He responded to her question with a smile.

  “Vista! I bet there’s lots of strong Armaments at the end! Let’s race--”

  “Don’t be childish Meah, I’m sure Damascus wouldn’t want us running through this sacred hall.” Vista immediately retorted.

  “Now, now--She is a child.” Damascus interrupted. “There’s nothing to break here anyway, if the two of you want to have some sibling fun, who am I to stand in the way?” Damascus responded with a smile.

  “See! We can run!” Meah retorted.

  “Do what you want.” Vista then eyed the nearest blade. “I don’t intend to browse long, anyway.”

  “Wait, you’re just gonna grab something at random?” Meah hissed. “Father says your first Armament is more important than your first love!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Yes, well if Davak wants to make the claim that he loves his sword more than our mother, he can do so.” Vista complained. “I, on the other hand, agree with Damascus--Even if it frustrates me to admit so.

  I should choose a weapon suitable for me as I am now, a small sword or even this blade would do.”

  He glanced up to a serrated dagger. “You want that?” Meah asked, a disgusted expression on her face.

  “In my hands, it’s more than enough.” Vista glared at the knife.

  “That’s Owen, the Blade of Silver--A particularly plain and simple weapon, I believe you’d be the first to wield it.” Damascus thought aloud. “That is, if you do decide to take it.”

  “I mean, we don’t have to make a choice today--Right Mister Damascus?”

  Meah asked. “That’s very true, you live in the Palace of Combat anyway, you can come back here and peruse the selection I’ve got on display every single day if you so choose!” Damascus explained.

  “Yet, when I pass the second Ordeal, I won’t need to worry about which I pick--All that matters is I choose one that will aid me in my coming ordeal, then, like Wayne, I may take as many weapons as I want.” Vista explained his thoughts.

  “Yes, well that is also a fine option--The sooner you choose the weapon, the sooner you may start to bond with it.

  An Armament's true potential can only be brought about by those who listen to its voice, much the same as building a bond with a person, each Armament speaks to its wielder, and only once you and your weapon have come to understand each other, can you start to see what your weapon is capable of.

  A small, innocuous dagger at the beginning of the hall, ignored by countless Warriors over thousands of years, may have potential beyond what its appearance displays--Much like the two of you, in fact.

  I’m sure that Gold did not expect either of you to pass the first ordeal, yet here you are: In my Hall, proving all those annoying, nagging adults wrong.”

  Damascus glared at the blade, before smiling: “Or, perhaps it’s just a simple dagger--Despite what is often said, not every two Armaments are as capable as one another.” Damascus, with both hands behind his back, began down the hallway, when both Vista and Meah turned away from the small dagger and followed the man, only for Damascus to stop before a tall halberd nearby. “Take Gigan here--It appears much like your average halberd--If it were found anywhere else, it might be confused for a weapon of Mortal craft.

  Yet, this weapon is dubbed the Pike of Wind--In the hands of Axol, its previous owner, it could summon great gusts of wind that caused whole armies to be knocked off their feet, or if used skillfully, it could even create a tornado that ripped trees from the earth, tossing them around like toys!”

  He continued on to the next weapon, stopping before a long sword, it appeared to be made of multiple types of metals, of various colors, all twisting around the blade from the ornate hilt. “Now, Vivan, this is a weapon that carries an appearance that strikes terror into your enemies!

  One look and we can say that it’s impressive, yet--In all of the hands that have taken it into battle over the multiple millennia since it was forged, it has not seen nearly as many victories when compared to many Armaments within this hall.

  Once you take this blade in hand, you will be quick to notice how its balance feels off, how its hilt digs into your hand.”

  “Don’t all Armaments have an ability?” Vista asked, approaching the blade. “Surely this one’s ability makes up for the feeling of its handle?” He suggested.

  Damascus approached the blade, gently lifting it from the pedestal, then holding it in his hand. “While it is true that all Armaments carry the potential to have an ability--Until that blade is mastered by a warrior, it cannot be known what ability this particular blade has.

  Vivan is an annoyingly stubborn sword, refusing to speak to any of those who have held it--As such, its true power is yet known.”

  “Wait--If you touched it, doesn’t that mean the sword joined your soul?” Meah asked, as Damascus placed the blade back onto the pedestal.

  “As the guardian of this hall, it was deemed necessary that I be able to hold, and wield any Armament without it joining my soul, so I am the sole exception to the law that forces an Armament to join a soul upon making contact with it.” Damascus put his hands behind his back.

  “Sole exception? What about the Mortals?” Vista asked.

  “Mortals? You mean the people from outside of Sol?

  If they ever stepped foot into this hall, then like anyone else, they could take an Armement, if I allowed it.

  Even the Demons of the Bottom World are no exception.”

  He then continued down the hallway, as Meah hurried to walk alongside the tall man. “So, what’s the strongest Armament here?” She cheekily asked.

  “The strongest? There can be none that take that title--As each Armament bonds with each user differently.

  The question should be, young Meah--What is the Strongest Armament for you?”

  He asked, as Meah glanced down at the ground, suddenly having a much more difficult time picking. “You’ve just gotta think about your individual strengths, Meah.” Vista explained, before walking ahead of the other two. “You are physically strong, and when you fight you are aggressive--You’d need a weapon that allows you to attack, without worrying about being attacked.” He added.

  “This is quite the decision, isn’t it?”

  Damascus asked, taking a long breath. “While it’s true that an Armement can be used as an extension of yourself, like any weapon--It can also be used to compensate for what you lack.” Damascus thought aloud.

  “What about something like Gigan? Couldn’t I just use tornadoes or something?” Meah asked.

  “While an Armament cannot be destroyed, it is attached to your soul.

  The strength of your soul, your will--Can make an Armament weaker or stronger--But, the strength of your body is important as well.

  You can summon a tornado while using a weapon like Gigan--But, such a powerful feat, would take a more powerful body--Should you exhaust yourself to the point you cannot even call your weapon to hand, all that wind you just called would disappear in the blink of an eye.

  You would be too tired to even keep the physical form of your weapon called to hand--In other words, you would be defenseless.

  Gigan was strong in the hands of Axol, because Axol himself was strong--Axol had carried Gigan for four hundred years, yet when he first lifted the weapon, all he could muster was a small gust of wind, a simple little breeze--Although it did feel nice.”

  Damascus explained, as Meah groaned under her breath. “This isn’t as simple as I thought it’d be.” She complained.

  “So, what you’re saying--Is that certain weapons take longer to master, and are best in the hands of an experienced warrior, right?” Vista asked.

  “Precisely!” Damascus responded.

  “But, if it’s too simple, that’d just be boring!” Meah insisted.

  “Boring keeps you alive, Meah.” Vista retorted.

  “The simplest of weapons are often the most effective afterall.” Damascus added.

  “And, that gives me an idea!”

  Damascus clapped his hands together, as the three moved down the hallway at such a speed, that their sight blurred, passing by hundreds, if not thousands of weapons in a mere moment, yet--It did not feel as if they even moved an inch.

  They stopped, all three facing a white spear, it had what looked like silver vines and leaves wrapping around the weapon, all leading to the pointed tip. “Quinn, the Spear of Silence!” Damascus announced, as Vista froze, while Meah took a step closer to the weapon, in a small daze, she glared at the weapon. “A weapon that cuts through the air, and makes no sound as it does--In fact, the weapon is completely unaffected by the air or wind around us.

  Where you feel some resistance against the air while swinging a sword, this particular weapon has no such limitations.

  And once thrown--”

  “It is not slowed by the drag of the wind as it travels.”

  Vista interrupted, stepping past the weapon. “I suppose you would be familiar with it, yet it is young Meah who seems entranced.” Damascus watched the girl, as she silently looked at the weapon, inching closer.

  “I don’t know exactly why, but it feels like--It’s calling to me?” Meah looked up at it. “Kinda like I knew it was here already.” She added, when Damascus put his hand to his chin.

  “Odd.” He mused aloud. “I suppose it must be somewhat familiar, afterall.” He muttered.

  “So, do you want to take it?”

  Damascus asked, as Meah took a step back. “Not really, it doesn’t seem all that impressive, I don’t want something so bland--”

  “Meah!” Vista yelled, interrupting and startling her, turning to her brother in a moment.

  Damascus sighed, before stepping aside and letting Vista look up at the weapon. “The last to wield this weapon was none other than Queen Meraphi--Your Mother.” Damascus explained, causing Meah to step back.

  “I see now.” She got quiet for a moment, giving Vista some space. “Sorry Vista, I--” She attempted to speak, when Vista closed his eyes.

  “It’s fine.” He had composed himself enough to speak calmly, before looking up at the weapon. “Still though, you don’t think either of us should actually take it, do you?” Vista asked.

  “It is a relatively simple weapon, and both of you resemble your Mother in many ways. She carried this weapon into countless battles, and saw success in each.” Damascus explained, when Vista approached the weapon with a deep sigh.

  “I thought Father, or Wayne would’ve taken it by now.”

  Vista examined the spear closely, as Damascus shook his head. “Your uncle, Wayne--He specializes in gauntlets and weapons that are less physical--I doubt he’d be all that proficient with a spear.

  Whereas Davak seems to use old Garen exclusively, I don’t actually remember a time where he visited this hall to choose a weapon of his own.”

  Damascus explained, when Vista nodded. “Then, in that case--You should have it, Vista!” Meah pushed her brother forward, rather roughly, as he winced.

  “But--” He was interrupted before he could even try to argue.

  “I don’t even remember Mother all that much, you should carry on her legacy!” Meah exclaimed, as Damascus smiled.

  “I agree--I also feel as if we'll find a weapon more suited to little Miss Meah’s tastes, elsewhere.” Damascus said with a smile.

  Vista stood before the weapon, glaring up at it--Taking a long and deep breath.

  Then, without another thought--He reached over the pedestal, and grabbed the weapon in his hand.

  The moment he touched the weapon, it unceremoniously disappeared in an instant, there was no shining light, or a song to celebrate his first choice of ArmAment--It was there on the pedestal, and then it was not.

  Vista took a step back, taking a long breath, as Damascus put his hand in front of Meah, and stepped back, urging her to do the same--In the next moment, Vista called the weapon to his hand, just as quickly as it disappeared from its spot, it reappeared in his hand--Being called from his soul, manifesting itself in reality once again.

  Vista examined the weapon for a moment, noticing the weight, it wasn’t heavy, and had a nice balance--He then eyed the tip of the spear, endlessly sharp, unable to be dulled, chipped or shattered, he then held it in both hands, when it disappeared again. “How do you know how to make it appear!?” Meah asked, attempting to step past Damascus, who ensured Meah kept her distance by blocking her step.

  Vista then called the weapon to hand again, swinging it around himself in an instant. “It’s like an instinct, as if I’ve always known how to.” Vista responded to her question, placing it on the ground, where it stayed for a moment--Before it disappeared again, and reappeared in his other hand. “So, it can’t be stolen, can it?” He thought aloud.

  “It is bound to your soul, to be called to hand whenever it is needed.” Damascus responded as Vista turned to face the endless hall opposite of Meah and Damascus.

  He then pulled back, before tossing the spear as hard and straight as he could--It did not whistle as it traveled through the air, nor be slowed by the wind as it shot across the hallway in an instant--Vista’s throw carried enough strength that it shot out of his hand like an arrow, and then--In a blink, it was back in his hand. “I see, it is effective, isn’t it?” He thought aloud, when Damascus lowered his hand, and Meah came running forward.

  “Can you hear its voice?”

  She asked, as Vista held the weapon out. “No, there’s nothing to hear.” He answered, when Meah examined the weapon up close, and Vista handed it to her. “So you can hold it?” He noted aloud, as she gripped it tightly in her hand.

  “It is a physical weapon, afterall, so long as you keep it called out of your soul, she can take it as far as she wants.” Damascus responded, when Meah carelessly swung it around, nearly hitting Vista as he made it disappear again.

  “Be careful you dunce!” He hissed, when Meah nodded, he held it out again, handing it to her as he took a step back.

  “Try throwing it, I want to see something.”

  Vista then suggested, when his sister nodded, preparing it to throw it the same way Vista did a moment ago--Though it similarly shot from her throw, it whistled as it was released from her grip, before heading straight for the ground.

  “Come on! I threw it harder than Vista!” She hissed.

  “So, you can hold it, but in your hand it is no different from a regular spear, is it?” Vista thought aloud, calling it back to hand.

  “Now, I know I did say you could play, but this hallway isn’t exactly the proper place to test out a weapon.” Damascus stepped forward, the sunlight shining through the windows was all but faded, and darkness was beginning to flood the hallway. “It is getting rather late--So I should return the two of you to the entrance now.” Damascus explained, as Meah turned to face him.

  “But I haven’t picked yet!” She yelled, when he walked beside her, leaning over to look her in the eyes.

  “Yes, well--It’ll be hard to pick once its pitch black in here!” He spoke with a smirk, ruffling her hair a bit, before standing straight.

  “We can resume our search another day, it’s not as if this is a decision you must come to immediately!”

  With another clap, the three were standing at the entrance of the hallway once again, the doors opened as Meah crossed her arms. “Fine! But I’m coming back first thing in the morning!” She insisted, as Vista sighed.

  “You have studies tomorrow.” He grabbed her by the arm, leading her outside the Hallway, when the two large doors closed themselves behind them.

  “Studies? But I already passed the first Ordeal!” She retorted.

  The two were now standing in the foyer, a pair of soldiers standing nearby. “You don’t get to shirk your school away, just because you can have an Armament now!” He explained, as Meah shook her head.

  “I bet Father will let me--” She tried to speak, when a loud voice interrupted from above.

  “Let you what?” It was a man, standing at the top of the staircase above them, who in the next moment jumped down, landing in a roll in front of the two siblings, immediately turning back to face the two.

  He was a tall man of pure muscle, even dwarfing the soldiers of nearly six feet tall--With a deep black hair, and steel blue eyes--Dressed in a red cloak that covered his back and sides--He rushed forward to Meah, lifting her up with one hand. “Did you choose your first Armament!?” He asked, obviously eager for an answer.

  “Not yet…” Meah complained, when he put her back down, before he eyed Vista. “He did!” She added.

  “Did you now!? Well boy, c’mon on and show me what you’ve got!”

  His voice boomed, as Vista rolled his eyes then sighing. “Very well.” He called the spear to hand, when the man froze.

  “I see.”

  He took a deep breath, immediately recognizing the weapon, he approached Vista, a soft smile on his face. “Your mother would’ve been happy to know that it made it to your hand.” He pressed his massive hand onto the boy’s head, when the boy pushed himself free of his father’s embrace.

  “I was surprised to see you just left it there to be taken by any warrior who walked through!” Vista retorted under his breath, an annoyed tone.

  “Father! Can I skip school tomorrow and go right to the Armory again!?”

  Meah was now sitting on her father’s shoulder, grabbing his face. “Now, now Meah--Armament’s are important, but your education comes first.

  A Warrior who knows nothing but to fight, is of no more worth than the blood he sheds.”

  He retorted, as she winced. “But, that’s boring!” She complained.

  “Boring or not, you can’t just shirk your school awa--” He attempted to speak.

  “Vista already said that!” She yelled, jumping back down and shaking her head.

  “Well then, listen to your brother--He wants what’s best for you.” He patted Vista on the back, knocking the boy forward as he caught himself.

  “Are you joining us for dinner?”

  Vista asked, shrugging off the fact his father nearly knocked him off his feet, as the giant man crossed his arms, clearly lost in a moment of thought. “I suppose I could share the evening.” He answered with a smile.

  “Good, there’s something I would like to talk to you about.” Vista responded, as the three made their way towards the stairs.

  “Would it hurt to skip one day of school?” Meah asked, returning to the earlier conversation.

  “You can just go to the Armory in the evening!” Vista hissed, as the tall man laughed, the three were halfway up the stairs by now.

  “Listen to your brother--” Yet as he was speaking, the massive entrance doors were slammed open.

  “Davak!”

  A voice boomed across the hall, a man, taller than the black-haired father of Vista or Meah, in a suit of plain and grey armor, stepped inside the foyer, with a scar on his face, and white hair--He glared right at the man known as Davak.

  “Bel?” Davak sighed, turning to the entrance with a frustrated expression. “There was no call for a House Meeting!” Davak faced the old man, who stepped into the foyer.

  “Yes, well Vin has just called us all to meet!”

  The man known as Bel retorted, when Davak lowered his head. “Again? Really? My children just passed the first Ordeal, Vista even has his first Armament--”

  “Congratulations, Davak.” Another man, with long blond hair, dressed in a golden cloak stepped inside from behind Bel--With eyes like crystals, and an almost feminine face, he stepped inside the Foyer.

  “And they’re younger than you were, Vin!” Davak bragged as he turned to face the blond man.

  “It is quite an impressive feat.” Vin eyed Vista from across the hall, then turned his sight to Meah. “I was thirteen when passing the first Ordeal, people made a big deal about it then--But now I pass on my title as the youngest Battle God to pass the first Ordeal, to you Meah!” He said with a smile.

  “Though it’s a shame, your celebration dinner with your father must be delayed--I will be needing him tonight, and there’s no saying how long our meeting will last, unfortunately.”

  Vin explained as Vista took a long breath. “Vista, did you want to say what you needed first?” Davak asked, as the boy continued up the staircase.

  “Another time.” The boy retorted, grabbing Meah by the arm. “Let’s go, we’ll only be in the way.”

  “Alright then, get some sleep you two!” Davak watched his children head up the stairs, and down a hall, out of sight, he crossed his arms in frustration.

  “The other House Heads have already been summoned, we should wait for them at the Roundtable.”

  Vin approached the staircase, standing beside Bel--He was much shorter, and skinny like a twig, yet with every step he carried a sense of poise, Davak sighed watching his two uninvited guests--Then did as he was told, the three then headed into the Castle together. “Fine, but I’m gonna complain the whole time about your interruption!

  This had better be important!”