James Lansteron ran through the forest near his village, trees a blur as he rushed past them. He didn’t have the vaguest idea of where he was heading, he just liked to run. The forest was peaceful and he had so much on his mind. It was good to run, he thought. The forest helped clear his head. Everything had its own purpose in the forest. The trees grew tall giving shade to the wildlife within. Every creature had its place. There was a certain harmony about it that lent a soothing sensation to James. He came here more and more often to clear his mind. Life was growing more and more complicated with each passing year. His brother had left to join the army, said he wanted adventure. Robert has always talked about wanting to see the world beyond their small village. And so he went off to the big city to offer his services to the King.

It had been two summers now since Robert had left. His father had been deeply disappointed when Robert had gone. Gabe Lansteron had wanted more than anything to have his sons take up the smithing trade he had worked so hard to become a master of. His dream was to open a smithy in the big city the three of them filling orders for the people. Weapons for the army. Shoes for the horses in the noble stables. James’ father was from the city, had apprenticed with one of the many blacksmiths there. He had met Jame’s mother one day when she had visited the city. Krista Stonburn had placed an order for new farming tools with Gabe and he had delivered her his heart. They had married and Gabe had taken the small amount of money he had earned in the city and opened his own smith in the small village where Krista lived with her family.

Jame’s father had grown weary of the small village life and had only just convinced his wife to make the move to the city and start the family smith. Robert and Jame had both become more than competent smiths under their father’s tutelage. Now Gabe Lansteron’s dream was dashed and it showed. Jame was worried for his father. His heart just did not seem to be in his work. Jame wish there was something that he could do to help sooth his father’s troubles but even Jame could feel the difference of working in the smith without Robert to laugh at his jokes. Indeed life had become very complicated in such a short time.

Jame slowed his pace to a brisk walk and came to a halt in front of the large familiar boulder. It rose from the ground to past Jame’s waist and had nice green soft moss covering the sides. The top of the boulder was worn smooth and was clear of growth. Jame loved to come and relax here deep in the forest on the smooth surface. The weathered stone made him wonder how many others through the ages had rested here on this rock, resting after a day’s hunting or making camp here during a long journey. What men had found respite here? He often wondered what it would have been like to be out adventuring like his brother. Out with the King’s armies, keeping the piece and holding the fallen at bay to the north. He often longed for an adventure. To escape the simplicity of the small village of Maleron. To build a life in the big city of Astorisia. Thinking of Astorisia drug up visions of Nisera. Life had become complicated indeed.

Nisera Saleron, how he missed her. They had grown up together, spending summers chasing each other through the wood and swimming in the creek north of Maleron. She had been a beauty that one. Only a hand shorter than he with long golden hair down the middle of her back. She was definitely one to write home about. Many times he had stared into her warm eyes and thought to himself what type of life they would have together. They had been all but betrothed since a very young age. Her father was the village farrier and the two children’s fathers had often spoken of going into business together. Nisera’s father was also from the city of Astorisia and often spoke of returning. Claude and Gabe spent many a night sharing ale on the porch toking their pipes while they watched the three children play into the waning hours of dusk.
Jame really was fond of Nisera, how he missed her. It had been a whole year now since the Salerons had received the Blessing from the Great One and moved to Astorisia to take up the life of the nobility. He had gone out early one morning to start his chores, he still was not happy with how they had piled on him since Robert had left, to find the Salerons packing a wagon . He could still see Nisera standing by the wagon looking forlorn. He had gone over to her wondering what was going on. He had seen families take trips but the way the Salerons were packing it looked as though they didn’t mean to return. He could still remember Nisera looking up at him, tears in her eyes. “We’re leaving Jame, for the big city, for Astorisia,” she told him. The shock of it was like a blow to the stomach, like Robert sneaking a punch to his ribs when they would scrap in the yard. Confused by her words Jame could barely think of what to say. “Well when will you be coming back Nis?” Though from her tears he already knew the answer, he just wasn’t able to accept it. First Robert and now Nisera? Everyone was leaving him. Nisera looked up with him, her expression mixed with sorrow and excitement, “Jame we received the Blessing last night. We must go to Astorisia, learn the gift, help the people however we can. You know that is the task set before those with the Blessing.” Jame heard the words she said but didn’t quite understand. He had never seen anyone in the village receive the Blessing. Granted he had only seen sixteen summers but the only stories he could recall of his father telling him about the Blessing involved families receiving it for feats of great heroism by one of their family. “Nis, how did you receive the Blessing. Your father isn’t a great hero.” Nisera’s eyes flashed with anger, Great One how Jame loved the passion that was ever present in her eyes. He felt quite bashful for his statement, “Nis I’m sorry. I know your father is a good man. I just have never thought of him as one that would ever do anything to receive the Blessing. He is a farrier, my father is a blacksmith, we are simple people. Marelon has never seen someone raised to the nobility, not that I’ve heard.” Nisera looked up at Jame and he could see the passion still in her eyes with a hint of pride there as well. “Jame last night my father saved the Felanasters from their burning home on his way back from delivering a new saddle to Jen Maybrook,” she smiled. Jame could see how proud she was of her father. Gabe Saleron had proved himself to be a man of great honor. No wonder they received the Blessing. “How did it happen? How did you know Nis? Do you feel different?” Nisera shook her head, her gold locks flowing with the motion. “No I feel no different. Father told me it happened late last night. He said he had the Vision and that we must leave for Astorisia. I had no idea until I woke this morning to see him and mother packing the wagon. We will be gone before noon Jame.”
Jame pushed those thoughts from his mind. No good it would do him to brood over Nisera’s good fortune and her father’s heroism. He had often dreamed of receiving the Blessing. Accomplishing some feat to earn him the recognition, something his grandchildren would tell their children of. But those were idle dreams. He felt ashamed for hoping for an opportunity to prove himself heroic. Why should he wish for some trouble to fall on some poor soul just so that he would have the opportunity to be heroic. Ideal dreams, he should be more focused on his duties at home. Jame realized he had been resting on the boulder for hours. He should get home before his father became irritated with him. Jame’s trips to the forest had become more frequent. His father had told him he needed to focus on the here and now and spend less time daydreaming. His mother had spoken up for him, telling his father he was still young and deserved the chance to dream while he still was able. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he did need to focus more on what was right in him. He did want to make his family proud. It just seemed such a daunting task while living in the shadow of Robert.

Robert, with his letters from the city or from his scouting trips to the north. Stories of keeping the kingdom safe from the fallen and of skirmishes with some of the bordering nations. Jame found some of those stories hard to believe. If Robert was such a hero why hadn’t his family received the Blessing then? Jame banished those thoughts from his head. He felt bad for feeling that way about his brother. It was his brother after all, he had no right to be jealous. Jame started to make his way home through the forest, bow strapped to his back. At least he had a few rabbits to bring home. Daydreaming indeed! he laughed to himself. Let his father see he has done something productive while out “brooding in the woods” as his father called it. Jame would try harder to focus on the here and now. He did want to see his father proud, despite what Claude may have though. Robert may have left father, but I am still here.

Jame came out from the tree line and made his way onto the road leading back south to Marelon. The road was smaller, only wide enough for one wagon. It was an older road that led to Lostania, the larger village to the north. It was more of a town than a village, with major roads leading to both Astorisia to the north and several other towns to the west towards the sea. Jame did not long to travel north this afternoon. After his time of reflection in the forest he had decided to put renewed effort into focusing on making his way as a black smith and helping his father realize his dream of opening his own smith in Astorisia. Jame was making his way south on the small road when he saw a rider approaching from the south. Very few people came without a wagon to Marelon. A few times a year merchants would pass through Marelon to make some business on their way to the southern towns and villages of Astorisia.

Jame was curious on what business a lone rider would have on the small road. There were larger roads taking a more direct route through the country between the major cities. As the rider drew closer Jame could make out the uniform of the King’s Guard. He recognized it from when Robert had come home to visit after his training in his nice new uniform. He had looked almost regal in the tunic with the King’s crest on the chest and sword and scabbard belted to his waist. What was a soldier from the King’s Guard doing way down here in Marelon, Jame thought.

The guard drew to a halt as Jame came closer to him. “Ho lad. Where are you off to this late in the day? It is a bit late for travelling wouldn’t you say?” the guard asked Jame. “I was doing some hunting in the forest,” Jame replied, raising the brace of rabbits at his side, “If I may ask sir, what is a member of the King’s Guard doing all the way out here in Marelon? It is a simple village, not much goes on around here.” The guard looked thoughtful, as if trying to piece together the right way to explain his business. Instead of answering Jame he asked a question of his own, “Have you ever thought of joining the Guard son? These days are dark times what with the Fallen becoming more and more troublesome in the north. The Guard can always use good men. You look to be about the age.” Jame thought it was a bit curious of him to ask. Maybe the Guard was going from one of the small villages to another looking for new recruits. He hadn’t heard himself of the Fallen becoming more active. But then, not much news made it to Marelon, and what did was sometimes months behind current events. “I am still a year from the age of signing sir. I am just on my way home to bring these rabbits to my mother sir,” He didn’t want any trouble from one of the King’s Guard, didn’t want him thinking Jame was up to no good. “Well hurry on home then son, before the sun sets. Its best to keep indoors at night in these times.” And with that the Guard spurred his horse and was on his way north up the road. What was that guard talking about? In these times? It had always seemed pretty safe in Marelon. Jame had never given a second thought to being out at night, especially in the summer time. Summer nights were a great time to explore. The world was different at night and in the summer it did not get too could for childhood adventures. He had grown a bit old for those but to think it dangerous to go out at night seemed silly to Jame.

Jame continued down the road passing several homes made of stone and thatched roofs, the words of the King’s Guardsman still weighing on his mind. They need good men. He was a good man, or almost was. His sixteenth name day was but a few short months away. Being part of the guard would set him on a path for adventure. A path for potential glory, perhaps even an opportunity to receive the Blessing. However hard he tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind they always brought themselves to the forefront. Jame would love a chance to see Nesira again. If he was of the nobility then there would be no reason why they shouldn’t be able to see each other again. He could move himself and the family to Astorisia and help his father open a smithy. How amazing would his father’s craft become if he had the skills of the Blessing to aid him? He could only imagine the joy his father would have at being able to move back to the city, Jame knew he missed it very much. Jame could not help the train of thought. If he were to be raised he might even be able to marry Nesira one day! The thought of it was just too much for him to banish the idea. He could only dream of it though. What chance would Jame have? A blacksmith’s son with a head full of dreams in a smallish village like Marelon? What chance could he possibly have of gaining the Blessing?

The thoughts of Blessings and adventures and Nesira left Jame’s mind in a quick fashion when he arrived at his home. It was one of the larger buildings in the village. Claude’s smithy was the front have of the building. There was a sign hanging about the door with the picture of a hammer and an anvil, a universal sign for a blacksmith’s place of business. Jame walked through the door hearing the hinges creak in protest as he swung the door closed. He would have to oil those before father noticed and got onto him for slacking in his duties. Oddly enough Jame did not hear the ringing or the hammer on the anvil or hear the hiss of steel being cooled in the water buckets next to the hearth. His father usually worked until supper was ready. It was not yet dark so Jame had expected his father to still be hard at work. Jame’s father was always stressing the honor of a hard days work to Jame and his older brother Robert. As far back as Jame could remember his father had always told him that idle hands were the Dark One’s workshop and to always do his best to stay productive. Jame had come to agree with his father that a good work ethic was an excellent virtue. But as Jame walked through the workshop glancing at all the tools hanging in place on the walls he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that his father could be up to.
He grew even more disconcerted when he noticed a half worked piece of steel resting in the cold fire pit. His father never left work half done, even if mother called repeatedly that supper was ready. Always finish what you begin son, his father always told him, there is nothing in this world worth starting if you don’t intend to finish it.

Bewildered at what would cause his father to leave work undone Jame continued through the workshop to the back door which led into the Lansteron family kitchen. He had a mind to take a jibe at his father for what he had found. Jame chuckled to himself imagining the look on his father’s face when he quoted the old adage back to him. Jame left his boots at the door, took of his working coat, a plain brown coat with maybe one too many patches, and walked past the entryway into the kitchen. He was still chuckling at his own jokes when he saw his mother at the table. There were no more laughs from Jame that day.

His mother sat at the table, a crumpled piece of paper in her hands. Her beautiful eyes were red and bloodshot. Her dark hair was a gnarled bird’s nest on her head, her shirt torn. She was in grief over something, it pained Jame to see her in such a state. Jame hurried to his mother and took her head in his hands. “What is it mother? What is wrong?” He asked her. She stared at him, her eyes empty. She wasn’t looking at him, she was looking through him. She was in a state of shock that he had not ever seen come over her before. His first thought was his father. Where was his father? Had something happened to him? Jame rushed through the house. His father was not in any of the bedrooms. He was not found in the sitting room or the washroom. The house was not large by any means but Jame looked it over twice. Stupid Jame stupid. He is too big of a man to miss, He thought to himself, He just must be somewhere outside. Jame looked out the window in the sitting room that opened out into the back of the house. Sure enough there was Claude hacking away at pieces of wood on the big stump in the back. Something was definitely amiss. Jame’s father never cut wood at night unless he was sorting out his thoughts and wanted to be left alone. Something was definitely wrong. Suddenly he thought of the King’s Guardsman on the road from Marelon. He had not answered Jame’s question about his business in the village. He had simply asked Jame about entering into the service and Jame had assumed he had been there for recruiting men for the Guard. He had been a messenger!

He rushed into the kitchen, his mother was still sitting there staring at nothing, the paper still grasped in her hand. Jame pried it from her grip and smoothed the letter on his chest. He stood in the kitchen staring at the words on the page. His eyes started to fill with tears as the words fell into place and he absorbed the message within.

Mr and Mrs Lansteron,
It is with great sorrow that I must inform you of the death of your son Robert. He fell in battle against a raid of the Fallen to the north during a routine scouting patrol. Robert was a soldier of great honor and was one of our best men. His shoes will not easily be filled. We thank you greatly for the sacrifice you have made for the safety of our nation and it will not soon be forgotten. Please accept these gold crowns as a token of our gratitude. I understand that it is nothing compared to what your family and your son have given to the crown and I mean not to make light of the events that have transpired. It is simply something meant to help give aid during this most sorrowful time. You have my condolences,
Thorondan Mantessor,
King of Astorisia

Jame felt the tears streaming down his face as he stood there, letter grasped in a fist at his side. He had envied Robert, been jealous of him for being out away from Marelon having a grand old time on adventures and living in the city. He had actually been spiteful of his brother and now this? His brother, dead at the hands of some filthy twisted creatures. It burned him inside to know he would never see Robert again. They would never scrap in the back of the house or run through the woods in the summer. Robert would never tussle Jame’s hair or poke fun of him for how he looked at Nisera. They would never again together or trade dance partners at festivals. What would become of him without Robert?

He looked up and saw his father staring in the doorway, his eyes red. He would never let Jame see him cry. No wonder he had been out chopping. “So I see you read the message. Robert was a good soldier it said, a good man. I guess I should be proud,” He looked despondent, like he wasn’t truly here. Jame could not bear to see his parents like this. It tore him apart inside. His father reached in his coat and pulled out another letter. “This was left for you as well. Don’t well know who its from but it was addressed to you” His father left the folded parchment on the table and made for the door to the smith, “See to your mother Jame, see that she gets to bed” He heard the door close and his father start the fire and start working the bellows. Jame knew his father was in a very bad state if he was starting the smithing fire after supper. Had his parents even had supper?

Jame finally looked around the kitchen, taking in the scene. Indeed his parents had not eaten. There were half prepared dishes all over the table and what looked like hundreds of gold coins scattered all over the ground. That must be the token of the King’s “gratitude”. It still burned him to think of Robert’s worth boiled down to a few gold coins. He knew it wasn’t the King’s purpose but what did the King care for Robert. He must have thousands upon thousands of soldiers. What was one man? What did Robert or his death mean to a whole nation.

Jame was full of anguish as he moved to his mother. He helped her to her feet, her eyes still staring blankly at nothing. He led her to his parents’ bedroom and laid her in bed covering her with the quilted blanket. Seeing that blanket brought more tears to Jame’s eyes. Robert had sent that blanket to his mother after receiving his first bit of pay from his service in the King’s Guard. It wasn’t lavish by any means but was far nicer than anything they had ever had out here in Marelon. His mother had loved that blanket, she cherished it. It was now only a reminder of the loss the Lansterons would have to endure. Jame kissed his mother her forehead and went to the kitchen to clean the mess that had been left.

Jame made his way back into the kitchen and began gathering the golden crowns that had scattered all over the floor. Three hundred in all. Three hundred gold crowns. That would last his family quite a long time. Jame set the coins aside and was about to begin cleaning up the half prepared meal, he was no longer hungry and doubted that his father was either, when his eyes came to rest on the letter that had been addressed to him. The letter had been folded and had been sealed with wax. There was a dove with a halo imprinted in the wax, some noble’s seal. Perhaps they also sent condolences for Robert’s passing, but why address the letter to Jame? He broke the seal on the letter and unfolded the parchment. They writing was very neat, flowing and beautiful letters on the page. He glanced to the bottom of the letter and nearly fell over when he read the name of the one who had sent it. His heart was in his throat as he once again stood in the kitchen reading words on a page.

Dearest Jame,
It has been quite some time since we last set eyes upon each other. I feel ashamed that I haven’t written sooner. I have been very busy with studies about the Blessing and the wonderful powers that come along with it. My life has become quite demanding, people are always wanting to speak with the family and we have mandatory functions to attend. I know it doesn’t sound like something one should be complaining about but I miss the old times. I miss running in the woods with you Jame, and summer days spent swimming in the creek. I heard that one of the King’s Guard messengers was traveling south so I thought I would send you this message. If your father can spare some time without you I would love to have you visit. We have plenty of room for you to stay here so you need not worry for a bed. I would truly enjoy seeing you again Jame. I hope you be able to make the trip.
Yours Still,
Nesira

Nesira wanted him to visit? He had thought she had forgotten about him. He could not leave his mother though, not in this state. And what of his father? Claude Lesteron had the strongest mind for duty that Jame had even known in a man, but would this tragedy cause him to lapse? Would Jame be needed to maintain the smithing? Jame was pondering Nesira’s letter when His father came to stand beside the table. He put his hand on Jame’s head rubbing his hair. Jame could not bear it any longer and grasped his father tight. “Why has this happened father? We are good people. Servants of the Great One. Was has this come to us?” His father just rubbed his back and let him cry. Jame was grateful for that. He knew that later he would feel ashamed for this display but now none of that seemed to matter.

When he had calmed himself Jame pulled away from the father and sat staring at Nesira’s letter. “Who was the letter from son?” His father asked him. “It was from Nesira. She wants me to come visit her in the city, in Astorisia. She was understanding that you might not be able to spare my absence. I know you need help with the smith father. And I would rather not leave mother in this state.” His father grunted and sat down across from him. He looked at the pile of coins left on the table. He seemed to be contemplating something. “You know Jame. I have saved enough now to open that smith in the city. I have been waiting for the right time to make the move. Now seems as good a time as any. After what has happened I doubt that your mother would want to stay here anyway.” Jame was shocked. He had no idea that his father had saved so much. He was under the impression that they were just barely getting by. But then, with the goal of opening a smithy they would have had to live small for his father to have saved. “It has always been your dream father. If that is what you wish then I will help you accomplish it. I will prepare for the journey.” Jame got up from the table to start to make preparations for the trip. “Jame,” his father said from the table, “go on ahead Jame. I can handle everything that’s left to prepare. I’ve already sold the smithy here. Most everything is ready, just some packing that needs to be seen too. And I doubt that your mother is ready yet to make the journey.” His father scooped up the crowns from the table, Robert’s crowns. He dropped them in one of his leather pouches and cinched it tight. He handed it to Jame, “Take the crowns Jame. Make your way to Astorisia. Spend some time with Nesira, I’ve seen how it hurts you that she is gone. I’ll need you to do something for me though” He handed Jame another letter. “Take this to Rollin Sandovar. He is a banker in the city. He is well known just ask around you will find his office. That letter is my intent to purchase some property to start the smithy. He will let you know when he finds something. I can’t make the move until I have a place to set up shop.” Jame took the letter and the coin pouch and set them on the table. “Inspect the properties Rollin finds for me. I want a good location Jame, and I don’t want to be taken. I trust your judgment. You know what makes a good smithy. Send for me when you find it.”

His father rose from the table and went back outside to the smithy. He returned shortly after with a sword and scabbard. It was beautiful. “I crafted this for a nobleman a long time ago. He forgot to claim it and I was stuck with it. All those nobles want their blades forged special so no one wanted this one. It will be good for you. Take it. There are some less than ideal spots on the road to Astorisia. Don’t let anyone rob you.” Jame took the sword and stared at it. He had never owned a sword before, though he and Robert had “practiced” with sticks in the yard. Maybe the sight of the sword would make bandits think twice though he wasn’t sure he would be able to use it properly to defend himself if it really did come to a fight. “Alright then father. I will go. I will leave in the morning. It isn’t but a few days ride to Astorisia. I should not need much for supplies.” His father put his hand on Jame’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you boy. You sure did sneak up on us and turn into a man. You will do fine. Your mother and I will follow you soon.” With that he made his way to the bedroom and closed the door.