Dual Wielding

Eight Years Later

“Corrin?”

A whispered voice drifted into Corrin’s mind, he ignored it of course, he was in far too comfortable a position to wake up now.

“Corrin!”

The voice was slightly louder now, but still whispered in his ear, he groaned quietly as his conscience returned to him, it came quickly, he hadn’t been asleep for long.

“Wake up dumbass, they’re about to call us up!” His best friend, Wyn’s voice seethed as an elbow jabbed him in the side, causing him to inhale sharply from the pain.

Naturally, Corrin jabbed back. “What the hell man? I’m up, I’m up, I was just taking a quick nap.”

Corrin looked up at Wyn from his slumped position. Wyn’s raven black hair was combed neatly, accentuating his handsome face and gray eyes. They’d tried to do the same for Corrin, but taming his ash white hair had proven too great a task. “This is literally the most important ceremony of our lives so far, and you’re napping.”

Well, that was quite an exaggeration in Corrin’s mind. He and Wyn had just turned sixteen, like everyone else their age had at the start of spring. With this came the expectation that they would choose a calling, apprenticing themselves out to a master or even just taking up a job themselves.

For many in their town of Straetum, and even across the entire Northern Plateau, this was considered a grand affair, a turning point in the lives of children, now entering adulthood. As a result, even the church, one of the largest buildings in town, was packed to the brim with people, mostly families of those who were becoming adults. Despite its size, the church was rarely used for large ceremonies like this, instead it was usually just a gathering place for various events and meetings, and a location where people could come when they needed assistance or advice on certain matters.

The effect really was quite pronounced though. The stained-glass windows filtered in the beams of the setting sun, casting a surreal glow upon the stage. In the air above, spirits gathered, drawn to and creating the sense of significance that filled the room. The wooden floors had been polished, and any sign of disrepair erased in the days prior, all in preparation for this event. Objectively speaking, it was quite an impressive ceremony.

But Corrin honestly couldn’t be brought to care. He, and the others all already knew what their calling would be. Most would simply follow in the footsteps of their parents: Slane would be a blacksmith, Claire a seamstress, Arlo would be a farmer, and Corrin and Wyn would be selected to be guards of the founder’s tomb. It was a respected position, they’d make plenty of money, retire earlier than most, live a comfortable life, and eventually die.

With some effort he listened to what the priest leading the ceremony, Fenfreth, was saying.

“... with that in mind, Miss Vystrin has chosen to become officially apprenticed to Jinrah Ornum as a librarian. May her work benefit our town for years to come.”

The red-haired girl on stage bowed shyly as the room broke out into soft applause. Most new adults in town would be going straight onto the farms or other forms of manual labor, it was always in demand after all. A smaller portion would go into some form of valued work like cooking, cleaning, or forms of public service like the town guard. Librarians were rare in Straetum, usually no more than two, and the current one getting close to retirement from what he’d heard. It was a very respectable profession, not that it could compare to being a priest, mage, or knight. Though Straetum never produced either of the last two.

The procession continued, each sixteen-year-old in the village being called to the stage, having their profession announced and a small speech made about them. Corrin and Wyn’s names would be called towards the end, which should’ve been soon, but with each name slowly called, it seemed somehow more and more distant.

“Ok I’m back to square one Wyn, I’m going to die of boredom before the old man stops talking.” Corrin groaned.

“Corrin, he literally raised you, can’t you show him any respect?” Wyn raised an eyebrow.

It was true, since almost as far back as Corrin could remember, he’d been raised at the orphanage by Fenfreth. As a function of the church, they relied on public goodwill and donations to keep it running, but it had never been a real problem in such a tightly knit community, and all things considered, Corrin had lived what he liked to think of as a normal, albeit slightly poor life.

Corrin snorted quietly, “If you had to hear him flirt with all the women in town, you’d feel the same, trust me.”

“Yeah, what is up with that?” Wyn asked. “Aren’t priests supposed to be all holy and ascetic?”

“Beats me, he swears that doesn’t apply to spirit-speakers, but I’m beginning to think he’s just making that up.”

Wyn chuckled slightly, “Well that’s just how it is when you have a blessing I guess.”

The priest cleared his throat loudly, “I said, would Wyn, son of Everett, and Corrin, unnamed, please approach?”

The pair shot to their feet, earning a couple snickers from the crowd as they awkwardly made their way to the stage. As they did, from the side of the stage came two middle aged men, the previous guards of the tomb, and Corrin and Wyn’s personal mentors. Each carried a ceremonial sword, finely polished blades that would never actually see battle.

Fenfreth addressed the crowd with utter confidence, his voice soft yet omnipresent, commanding respect from all who listened. Dressed in his own ceremonial robes, he had cleaned himself up as well for the event, his gray hair and wrinkled skin seemed to speak of wisdom accumulated over decades. As he spoke, Corrin could almost forget the image of the crazy old man who’d spent the last fifteen years raising him. “For the last four years, each of these boys have been trained to take over guarding the founder’s tomb. Having completed their training, they will henceforth take over the sacred task, and answer their calling. The previous bearers, Elder Terris, and Elder Irym, having selected their candidates with wisdom and care, now elect to retire with honor. Under the watch of the spirits, and the five kings, let the passing of the blades commence.”

Corrin felt pride blossom in his chest at those words. Regardless of how much he’d come to doubt the path he’d chosen, he had put in a lot of work over the past four years towards this goal, training with Wyn and studying the creatures of the tomb since they were twelve. Well, they’d trained much longer, but that had been for a different reason… He looked out over the crowd, most of the town was gathered here, the church barely large enough to contain them all.

As they’d practiced, Corrin and Wyn got down onto a knee, heads bowed, arms outstretched, as the elders took the swords from their hips, and placed them into the boys’ hands. The sword in Corrin’s hand felt heavier than usual, like the burden wasn’t just physical anymore.

He and Wyn accepted the blades, sheathing them onto their belts, before standing and firmly clasping the forearms of their mentors. As one, they spoke: “We accept this burden.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, both congratulating the previous guardians, as well as shouting words of encouragement to the newly appointed young men. The passing of the guard was a rare event, the last time taking place over 30 years prior, long before Corrin and Wyn’s birth. It would be another forty or so years until they passed on the blade themselves, unless of course they were felled in their duties, which did happen, but such a thing was rare.

Corrin tried not to blush, this process was a little more pompous than the rest of the advancement ceremony, but that was simply a matter of tradition. He looked over at Wyn and flashed a small smile, any apprehension washed away by simple joy. Wyn smiled back, and the boys stood up before bowing respectfully to the crowd.

“With this, the advancement ceremony is now complete, go forth, young adults, and may the spirits guide your path.”

Corrin watched as the families began to file out of the church, almost all excited to celebrate the occasion with their sons and daughters. He may have felt wistful for a moment, but he was knocked out of it by a strong clap to his back, Wyn’s hand on his shoulder rousing him.

“Ready to go?” Wyn asked.

Corrin turned and smiled, “Yeah, the tavern, right?”

Wyn nodded and the two hopped off the stage, leaving through the back of the building. They’d hardly taken a step outside when Corrin was practically tackled by the old priest, Fenfreth.

"Corrin my boy, I'm so proud of you!" He reached out an arm and pulled Wyn into the hug as well, “And you too young Wyn, you’ve done your family proud.”

"Get off me gramps, I can hardly breathe," Corrin protested, twisting out of the iron grip he'd been placed in.

"Bah, I'll do what I want brat, show some respect for your elders." He chopped Corrin on the head with some force, prompting a yelp from Corrin, though the old man was unable to banish the look of pride entirely from his face.

“I'll show you some respect when you stop hitting me on the damn head," Corrin grumbled.

Fenfreth waved dismissively, "Please, if that little tap hurt you so bad, you won't last a day guarding the tomb," he grinned.

“What would you know about it you old geezer?” Corrin shot back.

Fenfreth let out a sigh and held his hands up in surrender, a smile on his face. “Alright alright, I am proud of you though Corrin. Truly.”

Corrin turned away, definitely not embarrassed at all. “Thanks.” He managed to get out before Wyn’s mother came up and started the whole process all over again.

***

Though it was common for the new adults to indulge in alcohol after the ceremony, Corrin hardly had a sip as they enjoyed their time at the tavern. He much preferred an extra sweet redberry cider to celebrate. While it was possible to add liquor to it, he’d only ever found it to spoil the taste.

Wyn on the other hand sipped conservatively at several different spirits and wines. Unlike Corrin, he’d never indulged before now, so he was unsure of what if any he’d like. Either way, Corrin didn’t expect him to drink too much, Wyn just wasn’t the type to get drunk, though he’d drink enough to be social.

As was often the case though, the real party was for the older adults. Fenfreth, Wyn’s mother Reyna, and the boys' mentors had all gathered to celebrate with them. The latter two had drunk themselves to sleep, passed out across the table, while the former chatted excitedly, just indulged enough to loosen their tongues.

“So, tell me again,” Reyna said, “What is it like to have a blessing?”

Fenfreth smirked.

Oh boy, here we go.

“Well really, it doesn’t make me too different from normal people. I was merely blessed by the spirits themselves, given the ability to communicate with them. If you don’t know—which you may not since I try not to brag too much about it—my blessing is the blessing of Spirit Speaking. I can see spirits some can’t, and even speak with them. For example, there’s one over Wyn’s shoulder right now. Hello little one—” His face contorted into one of offense, “Oh, well that’s not very polite of you at all!”

“What’s happening?” Reyna laughed.

“Wyn has a rude little friend,” Fenfreth knitted his eyebrows before trying to shoo her away. “Oh well, sometimes these things can’t be helped. Spirits can be odd creatures, some are more akin to animals than people, but some are capable of quite captivating conversations. Though, I daresay you put them all to shame Ms. Reyna.”

“Oh my, please you’ll make me blush.” She giggled.

Corrin looked at Wyn and fake retched, drawing a nod of agreement. They hopped off their chairs and walked off into the streets of their hometown, having heard more than enough of that painful discussion. Absolutely disgusting, the both of them.

Though most of Straetum was paved in dirt, the main street was set with cobblestone, making the country village look more like a proper town if you didn’t venture to the outskirts. Besides the street, there wasn’t much rhyme or reason to the construction of the buildings, all made of different materials and in different styles. But somehow, it all came together in a way Corrin could only describe as cozy.

Though most of the people their ages would be partying late into the night to celebrate the coming of adulthood, they still only made up a small portion of the population, so the streets were still empty and pleasantly quiet. The night was only dimly interrupted by a few street lanterns, light spirits, and the millions of stars that dotted the moonless sky above.

They walked up and down the street, and sometimes off it, doing loops through different parts of town as they killed time. It wasn’t boring though, and the conversation came and went easily. Sometimes, they talked of simple nothings: what they’d eaten for lunch, which girls they thought were cute, what they planned to do tomorrow. Sometimes they would break into uproarious laughter at jokes only they understood. And sometimes, when they didn’t have anything to say, they would lapse into a comfortable silence.

Eventually though, like all things, it came to an end: back on the main street, with Corrin preparing to walk home one way, and Wyn the other.

Wyn sighed, looking up, “Man, I’m tired. Talk about a long day.”

“No kidding,” Corrin yawned, it was quite late. “But hey, we get to finally see the tomb tomorrow. That should be exciting.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Hopefully we don’t run into any second-floor monsters.”

“Personally, I’m hoping we do!”

Wyn laughed, “You would be. Well, I suppose it’ll be alright either way. A little extra excitement wouldn’t be a bad thing, right?”

“Not at all,” Corrin grinned.

“Well, I’m going to head home and get some sleep, we’ll probably need it for tomorrow.”

“I might go for a run first, I’ve still got some energy to burn off,” Corrin said.

“You do that man,” Wyn chuckled, “I’ll see you tomorrow alright?”

“Night Wyn.”

“Goodnight Corrin.”

They bumped their fists and walked their separate ways. As soon as he turned away, Corrin let the smile drop from his face. It wasn’t a lie… but he just couldn’t bring himself to believe it. All in all, it was a good day. But that was it, wasn’t it? He walked back to the church; the humming of the light spirits the only thing breaking up the deafening silence of the village. He loved this place, Straetum would always be his home. But…

Nestled in a valley in the windfall mountains, entirely separated from the rest of civilization, this little slice of heaven was as tranquil as anywhere that had ever been. In this place, people would be born, age, live, and eventually die. For those that lived in Straetum, it was a truth as ever present as the rising and setting of the sun.

But since that day, so far in the past he was sure even Wyn had forgotten, Corrin had always wanted more.