Lunar Tears: A Way To Say Goodbye

[Sir Bradley Aldermyne]

[Transferred Over From Old Board]

They say a child will grow up to follow in their parents' footsteps. Would it be so surprising if they did not? Would you still hold them to the same reputation that their family had? Or would you accept that they are their own person? These questions are such thing that you must ask yourself when you meet me?

Who am I? I am Brad, or Bradley Scott Aldermyne. I am the son of a rouge and Lord; a warrior and an assassin; a murderer and a killer. Thier names? They are Vitani SilverWolf Aldermyne and Valhalla Aldermyne.

I am the third child; but the second to each. I know how weird and odd that sounds but it is the truth.

My mother was married to a Spanish Prince before marrying Valhalla. And they say he was a grand Warrior as well. I obviously know nothing about him, but I remember pictures... seeing all the seven Shadows hung in frames on the walls in my mother's tavern. I was told that the Spanish Prince my mother married first was killed shortly after Willam's birth, leaving my mother widowed.

Anyways, the prince supposedly married beneath his rank to my mother. They later had a child, the future heir of the Spanish throne, Prince Willam Antony Turr of Madrid. I remember him a little bit, and I can say he was a good man. I was told before that he had a good heart, and he would have made a good king, but he died days before his coronation. I also hear he was good at magic, having inherited it from his father's side.

On my father's side, he had a daughter named Shayla. I remember Shayla much better then Willam, and I also witnessed first hand what happened to her. I'm probably even the last person that saw her before she disappeared. Shayla was the daughter of an elf peasant named Rune; and I don't think Valhalla and her ever married, but I know Shayla was born from the two. I remember her being so pretty. She had full blond hair and deep blue eyes. I guess it's close to my general appearance, huh? Well, from the stories that have been told, it is said that once Willam was murdered Shayla grew mentally unstable, speaking to herself only. Other times she didn't speak at all; and soon my older sister completely disappeared. Later in the story I do see Shayla again, but now I am not there yet am I?

Okay, so I guess I can start my story now. I was born in Saxon land to Valhalla and Vitani Aldermyne. I am the Young Master Aldermyne of my father's lands and properties. Despite all that I was not raised noble like my father's title would suggest, but instead I was raised like a commoner, living in a tavern with my mother. After my mother remarried it was told she chose to relinquish her right as a lady to return to her home and tavern. There in Kent she ran a tavern known as "The Baying Wolf".

On December 23rd, just three years before my brother’s death, I was born. I don’t know how the day was, so I won’t pretend to know. Stormy? I don't know it for sure, but Okay…If it makes the story seem to fit better… But anyways, I was born! Yes, Bradley Scott Aldermyne was born in the Anglo-Saxon Village of Kent.

From the stories I was told, everything was good. My parents were happy and everything was perfect. I grew up with my brother and sister, a mother and a father…well, for a few years.

Three years after my birth Willam was murdered. I was told in later years that it was caused by a demoness named Dyeri and her want for the sword, “Shadow’s Death”. Shayla would go insane shortly after…this is where the downward spiral on my complete family began.

Two more years and word of war came to my father from his homeland. They were calling him back to fight with them, begging him for his help. I was but five years old when he was called away, him leaving my mother and me with promises of his return.

I do remember my mom reading me his letters at night; she even told me stories of how great he was a warrior. She told me of how he stole her heart, softening the steel around it and how he asked her to marry him. I remember as a child a few of those tales, whether they are false or not, I cannot answer, but I suspect each has its own amount of truth and lie.

There is one night in my childhood that I remember like it was yesterday. Till this day, twelve long years later, I still can see the crimson flow, the smell of blood flood my nose… Closing my eyes I can see her…see the color drain from her face… What I talk about is the assassination of Vitani SilverWolf Aldermyne; my mother.

She sat there reading a story to me, I think it was one of a dragon king and a Viking queen…a story I’ll tell to my children one day for sure. Anyways, I remember that she was just finishing up when an arrow suddenly shot, and its piercing head came through the front of my mother’s throat. Surprise and shock crossed her face as I reached out for her, calling for her, but she never responded. Her mouth gaped open, while blood came from the corner of it and all around the arrow, sliding down pale flesh and seeping into her tunic.

That night I watched my mother die. I didn’t know what was happening, and I even curled up against her dieing body as she fell into deaths cold embrace. I was but a child then, young and naïve… A child always believes that their parents would live forever, but they are so very wrong.

The next day I did try to wake her, me pushing against her body that had grown stiff and lifeless, but to my dismay she never awoke. She wasn’t up to fix me breakfast, or to tend to me; instead she was lost to me and my very world of existence, and all because he wasn’t the most respected and most honorable woman known to man.

Later that day, Misty Morningstar (My mother’s oldest and dearest friend, besides some woman named Aria or Fox…) came by. When I answered the door she noted the blood on my own clothing and ran in swinging me up as she ran inside in search for the source and for my mother. She did find her, but not in the ways she had hoped, for my mother was dead, leaving me in the arms of Misty till my father would return.

Misty did take me into her household with open arms, her taking care of me not as her adopted child but her own, treating me no different then she treated her own daughter. Misty did close my mother’s tavern, leaving it to dust and fall silent in her memory. I didn’t think much about it when I was younger, but now I wish to reopen it and let her soul run through it once more.

Anyways, there was a funeral, a funeral that was quite different from any others. Her coffin was made of wood but dyed a deep black, while a flag was laid over the casket with a white wolf on it, with a silver lining. I didn’t know what the wolf symbolized then, but in years to come I would learn the secret my mother hid from me.

It wasn’t for another year that my father returned in search for me and my mother, but he would only find me in the care of Misty. It was her that broke the news to him, telling him that she found me in the tavern alone with my mother dead leaning over against my bed. I wasn’t there for the conversation, but I do remember him being so upset, him actually crying over her death. I think that is the first and only time that I had seen him cry.

My father didn't stick around long after my mother's death. Maybe it was because of me. I remember that day...the day he came to me to take me in and me pulling away from him as if he was my mother's murderer himself. I told him I hated him, told him that I hoped he died. Harsh words from a child. I never did really have a reason for my actions, and I do blame myself for much of the problems that wrap around our relationship. Of course some of it is his fault, but I drew the first blood at 6 years old.

He tried to talk to me, tried to talk some sense into me, but honestly I barely knew him; he left my mother and me when I was real young only to return 5 years later or so. To me he was the devil. I blamed him for my mother's death; cursing him because he went to war instead of staying and protecting us. I hated him then, or so I thought; personally I think I needed someone to blame and the man that shows up after so long claiming to be my father was perfect in my plan.

He did try to convince me that it wasn't his fault, tried to talk rationally about what happened, but in truth what six year old child listens with tear strolling down their face? I know I didn't; all I knew was this man wasn't there, but came back after the fact as if trying to pick up a role that I didn't consider was his. In my mind he was false, he was the enemy trying to take me away from Misty.

Misty on the other hand wanted Valhalla and me to form a bond, and Valhalla did try, I give him that, but I would have none of it. I remember when Val sat me down offering to beginning training me with the sword. I remember I was so offended, tossing up my arms in a fit, telling him I would never pick up a blade. I didn't want to then though, nor did I ever till recently, for it was the sword that I felt brought on her death. That fighting and the sword brought on the horrible troubles of splitting my family in two and leaving my mother to die as I curled up sleeping next to her.

Valhalla left shortly after that. It was like he vanished from my life, leaving Misty to care for me. I hadn't cared much, but before I moved out on my own she did mention that Valhalla did show up to check on my well being, but never tried to take me away due to my undeserved hatred toward him. With that I lived with Misty and her daughter, me growing up learning morals and proper manners. Of course it wasn't etiquette I would need being of noble blood, but she was determined to have me grow up a respectable man, and one that would be able to treat a woman nicely.

When I was about 10 years old is when I saw my father again. I was traveling through the lands of a guild only to step into a tavern unoccupied by an adult. I really don't know why I left Kent, but I did know I was and still am a very curious person. Maybe it was the rumors that my father was seen there, I can't really tell you, honestly; but I remember stepping in and finding my father with the company of a female that was not my mother.

Tears stung my eyes as I stood there in shock, watching him kiss her another woman, but not just any woman... a vampire. By this point in my life it was not known that I was a Garou myself, but I did know what one was and how my mother was one. Misty told me a bit about them telling me that vampires were our ancestors' mortal enemies, so as I watched the scene before me I was mortified. How could he do this? Why with her? Of all things I learned morally and respect wise went out the window when I saw this.

The moment he stopped his flirting and spotted me I was fist balled and angry, tears running through my face. I know I said things I shouldn't though. I told him he dishonored our family, and asked how he could bring himself to sleep with a dead sleeper. Of course as I said this the vampire was there, glaring down at me. Was it hatred? Possibly. Maybe she knew something I didn't about my future. I did later find out that she was the guild leader of an organization called SCoR. It didn't matter then though, I was young and hurt, and seeing my father a few years later only to note him throwing himself over the body of the living dead was not something I really needed to deal with.

I did leave though, only to have him grab me up by the collar and drag me back to the vampire, yelling at me to apologize. Did I? No. Instead I stared up at her, tears making my vision blurry and the coloring in my face a deep red from anger. She did tried to talk to me, but because of my ignorance and my childish behavior in ignoring her she lost her temper and started yelling, which provoked me to do the same. I know I said things I shouldn't of back then, yelling at her about how she was a sleeper, and how I hated her. I remember telling her I hoped she burned in the ashes of the Lord and spend eternity in hells torturous pits.

Finally when my father released me I ran out, and I don't think I saw him again after that. I'm sure he was around to check up on me; after all I was his blood, his heir, and his offspring.

After that day I never left the town of Kent, leaving and staying there. At this point I did decide what I wanted to do with my life. A bit young I know, but I had my mind set up... I wanted to be an Alchemist.

Misty was pleased with my choice, even though I wonder now if it was all a false sense of encouragement, for she knew Valhalla wanted me to be a warrior and swordsman, and I'm sure my mother would of wanted me to be the same, but to her she never seemed to mind. Misty was the main provider of my growing talents. She bought me the things I needed, and the equipment I needed to make up my things. I can say I never dabbled in much besides fire play and herbal exploration. I did become very talented in it, and soon learned to be my own parlor tricks and performance effects.

At the age of 13, I went through my first change. This was the time in my life where everything took a turn. My father was not there that day; the only person that was there to deal with me was Misty. Luckily she knew what she needed to do. I don't remember exactly what triggered the whole thing, but I do remember it being something in alchemy. More then likely it was something on the lines of my not being able to get a mixture correct and it blowing up in my face.

Anyways, as the story goes I was working on something that was making me very upset, and after I picked it up and tossed it I got this horrible stab through my abdomen which made me double over and hit the floor. My hand caught the table taking chemicals and glass with me which sent Misty in the room, only to catch the beginning of my screams, as my spine between my shoulder blades lifted and seemed to expand. I remember her yelling for me, trying to talk to me, but I couldn't hear her, everything sounded as if it were under water.

[Sir Bradley Aldermyne]

[Transferred over from old board]

As I was on the floor my hands went to the floorboards, fingers curling in as I screamed my pain. I can tell you that the first change is literally life changing and the most painful experience in the world. You feel each bone snap in your body, you feel your body crumple in on itself then reshape, muscles twist and turn, contorting in ways the human body should not do. You even feel your ribs slam down into your heart making you think it is going to stop beating and then expand. You lose your hair, and even your flesh begins to peel off as new hair begins to grow, thick hair the colors of grey, brown, white and black sprouted over my body. Even my face was absorbed by the mass of hair, and my face itself changed, the bone shattering the nasal cavity as it expanded and reconstructed.

The last yell would end up forcing your head to the sky as your change completes, it straining your vocal cords till the agonizing sound ends in a blood thirsty howl. That is clue to run away, or find some way to restrain a new changed creature. Misty didn't know that right away, but she picked up face as now once small form turned into a huge monster turned to face her, ears pinned, a snarl, accompanied by a growl shattered the new made silence. I remember her scream and her slamming the door shut locking me inside. I remember paws and claws slamming against the wood, splintering it inside and out as I made an attempt to kill her. I wish I knew why this happens to those during their first change, but I do know that I spent three long days in that room till I wore myself out and was found naked and passed out on the floor.

When I awoke, I was not alone. I stared into the face of a man, a woman, and Misty. Misty would soon introduce me to Aaron SilverWolf and Terra SilverWolf. They were the brother and cousin of my mother. Not once did I think she had siblings, but I did learn I was wrong.

To this day I remember Aaron and Terra...Or should I call them "Travels Water" and "Wind Walker"? Anyways, I later found out that both of them were Garou as well, and from the same tribe of which my mother was from. This tribe is called the ShadowLords.

Aaron or "Travels Water" is an Adren in the tribe and was also a Ragabash. He doesn't personally stay in the tribe lands, but travels the sea as his Sept name suggest. I remember Misty saying he is a pirate captain of a ship called "The Ghost". The ship got its name due to the horror stories about on a full moon that members of the crew disappear and are never heard of again.

Terra or "Wind Walker" is now an Elder in the tribe. Born as a Philodox, like me, she helps run the Caern and tribe with justice. She is a great leader and one a Garou can really look up to.

"Wind Walker" was the elder that taught me what I know about Garou today. She also is the Elder that put me through my Rite of Passage and named me my Sept name of "Hero Chaser". I never understood then why she named me such a thing, but now that I think about it I feel she knew me better then myself and knew I would fall into wanting to be a savior, to be a hero in others' eyes.

Terra was the one Garou that ever taught me anything. She told me about the ancestory rivalry between Garou and Vampire. She taught me of the ways and reputation of a ShadowLord. She even told me I was born homid, or in common tongue that I was born human; and also that I was born on the night of the waning moon which made me a Philodox like her. I never knew what a Philodox's role was as a Garou, but I was tuaght that as well. A Philodox is the mediators. Alot of people use the word "judge" but it is not our role to judge anyone, but to mediate, and keep order in the Tribe, Caern, and Packs.

Under the care of Misty and with the guidance of "Wind Walker" and "Travels Water" I learned about about my mother's Tribe and ways. I think I better understand her in the stories now that I know what I do today about her people.

When "Wind Walker" and "Travels Water" left to go away again, I was given a necklace that I where around my neck to this day. It was a chain with an iron pendant in the shape of the ShadowLord Tribe symbol. I was given it by Misty in front of the two fellow Garou, and was given a speech about how it was my mother's and how she and everyone knew she would want me to have it...

After the presences of "Wind Walker" and "Travels Water" I spent most of my time practicing my changes. Raging during a full moon and growing up working in a tavern. It wasn't the Baying Wolf that I went to but The Tides of Fate. The baying Wolf had fuzzy memories, and I really didn't want to look up to see a portrait of a happy family staring back at me. Sure there were other pictures but none that contained people I knew, besides the huge portrait of my mother, father, Willam and myself. Everyone was smiling; there was no darkness in portrait just a fake image of what a lord's family should really look like… a family I did not know, so instead I avoided it, leaving The Baying Wolf to fade into the forest it rested in, being overgrown in the veins about it, and allowing dust and things that come with something untouched to swarm inside with memories I wished not to remember.

When I was 15 years old my life would take another turn. I had become a man in the eyes of society. Now I would be put to work with more responsibilities and was pushed to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.

In truth I wanted to me an alchemist. No one really believed in the art but I did, it was the one true thing I enjoyed. Of course the city of Kent never really enjoyed the art, but it seemed that the traveling rouges and gypsies enjoyed my shows… and this is where I met my first love, Leeanna.

Leeanna was a gypsy girl whose family came from Ireland. I can see her in my mind like as if I were living in the memory this very moment. Leeanna was beautiful. She had long red hair, green eyes, and a spontaneous personality. In my experience it would seem she was much like Emory. The fiery temper, the gorgeous smile… and yet they are so different.

Well anyways, Leeanna and I met when I was asked to do my show of fire with them during a passing of there group through our growing town. It wasn't anything completely great, but it did grab the attention of her. I remember her walking right up to me, her staring me down with a sort of attitude you expected of some lady, eyes sizing me up. She never said anything to me though, her just smiling and reaching out, her running a hand down my face before stepping away.

That was all she had to do though, because after her impressive action I was left standing there in complete awe. Her father did laugh and approach me, a slap of my back as he leaned down and spoke to me about how that was Leeanna, one of his four daughters and one of the experienced dancers. He did notice me gawking at her and invited me to the festivities and dancing that night.

Normally I would not be allowed out, but a window is a great thing! I snuck out that night and ran out of the town till I noticed the flickering of flames from there bon fire and the majestic tunes of the gypsy folk. I was a bit hesitant at first to approach, but I forced myself to step forward, only to be grabbed up by a blond girl and pulled into the dancing circle about the fire.

I didn't know what to do, and I can say I was not skilled in dancing, so it was slightly embarrassing as I tripped over my own feet and was a few steps behind everyone else. No one seemed to notice though, or so I thought till the dance ended and I received welcoming laughter and the approach of Leeanna.

She was snickering in her own amusement at me as she took my hand and led me away. I thought I was there to spend time with all the gypsies, but the one beautiful that stood out in my mind was now stealing me away, and I would not object.

The night was spent with much laughter and talking. We lived in two completely different worlds, but in a way we related in experience the few that I had in my life. We spoke on how I wanted to make a life in alchemy, and her wanting a life dancing and how she would never leave her family. This was the same night I got my first kiss. She came onto me, I swear, and I was nervous. Questions went through my head about if I should close me eyes? How long should I hold the kiss? They were all stupid questions, but one I hope everyone thinks about sometime.

Sad enough, Leeanna was only in Kent for a few months, but in those few months life was like no other. In so many years someone made me laugh, made me open up. Before her I didn't talk much, I actually stayed to myself; I did my work and hid away with my nose in a book. But now it was so different. I became that adolescent that I was supposed to be.

Our relationship was short lived, but I know I will never forget her. Of course if she showed up today I would not go back into her arms, for I belong to another, and she is honestly the best thing to happen to me.

The time after Leeanna left I was depressed, falling into my work and staying out of the sight of everyone. I'm sure Misty was wondering why I was so left to me, but then again she never questioned. I was after all a boy that was alone once more.

My depression wouldn't last long because at the age of 16 I began to notice the girl down the street. I did grow up with Anna but she was just an annoying girl that picked on me till my face was red and fists were balled at my side. Not once in all my years had I thought she would have wished for me to be with her.

Anyways, I had made the decision to leave Kent and travel onward to kingdoms of the Lords and Kings. I needed a new start. I remember walking away my bag packed when Ana came after me, grabbing my arm. When I turned I noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks, and the slump in her figure. I was about to say something when she came against me, her burying her face into my chest. At first I was generally confused and hesitant, but in time I put my arms around her my hand rubbing over her back to comfort her.

When her tears finally seized she begged me not to leave, but when I stated my mind was made up she blurted out her desire to come with me and to be my lady. I didn't know what to say so I simply shrugged and went to move onward, her following with glee.

In truth I was never really attracted to Ana, but it would be wrong to not take care of her after she insisted to follow me. In time though we did end up happy and I thought that she was the girl I was meant with. I knew most men my age were married, and I even considered taking her as my lady wife. Thank whatever god out there that I did not, though!

We went castle to castle, where I would attempt to get work, and she stood by my side at all times, even after we were chased out and deemed witches. One kingdom even wanted to burn me in the courtyard under the crimes of witchcraft. It was alchemy, not witchcraft! But no one understood that. But this isn’t the story of those hardships yet, this is about Anna.

One day both I and Anna arrived in a kingdom of Wessex. Here King Caewlin ruled with his Queen Niniane, who was once the Princess of the Celts. Anyways, here was my last stop before my long trip to Camelot, and the ending point for me and Anna.

In the land of King Caewlin everything was grand; I found work in the court as a magician and entertainer, while Anna began work as the Queen Niniane's chamber maid. Both me and Anna received quarters in the castle, and the protection of the sort. Of course I thought this was due to our services to the court and the help about the castle, but in the end it was Anna that proved to be doing much more then she was saying.

My guess is the lack of me bedding her she soon began her course about the castle guards till she made it into the bed of the King himself. He would soon make her his mistress and soon I was pushed out into the streets like a used up man with nothing to offer.

Anna would find me telling me that she was now "in love" with the King and that she was glad to be his mistress. She even dared to ask me to be happy for her. When I couldn't she scowled in disgrace and stormed off.

I didn't leave for Caemlot then, but I stayed in a small nameless town outside the kingdom. Here is where my life met danger much more then being named a witch.

Guards, bandits, and cut throats all seemed to show up in the town in search for me. They spoke of wanting my head and being hired by the King to retrieve it. Not wishing to fight I fled own to town, me not wanting to flee to another kingdom to escape this insanity. I didn't know what I had done, but one day the attacks just stopped. Actually it was after the night of the full moon, in which a man ended up dead and stories spread that "the quiet magician used his witchcraft against the man and turned into a wolf."

Now awaiting trial I stayed in the town on the out skirts of the kingdom, hiding my face and my very way of living. Here is when I began wishing that I was human and believing that the wolf was but a curse that ran through my veins. My life seemed destroyed because of my ways.

The night before my trial, Anna would show up at my small shack. At first I was very wary of her presences but she said that she wasn't here to judge me. She spoke about how God would judge me. It was honestly odd to hear this from her ears, it seemed she had converted from her born religion, but either way she seemed well enough.

We spent the night together that night, and I mean it heated up. This was the night I almost lost my virginity, but that wasn't the case as I felt a dagger suddenly slamming into my back. With a growl I felt the shift coming on and I ran; ran till I could run no more. I did avoid the trial and maybe it will catch up to me, but I just had someone that I cared for attempt my death...

And so now my tale of Camelot will begin...

To Be Continued...

[Sir Bradley Aldermyne]

When the land grew fidget and the animals slept; there came this boy… this child having reached the early ages of adulthood. Eyes that would lie upon him always swore they knew him from somewhere… somewhere in the back of their minds and yet not one of them could even put their thumbs on whom he really was.

The boy never really spoke much, nor did he stay in those wondering eyes very long. Instead he came and went like a shadow, for that is what he “a Shadow of the past”. He wasn’t here to haunt anyone; he wasn’t here to make amends even, but instead he had a chance to build a life for himself. What kind of life? He really had no clue, but alchemy didn’t seem to be doing any good. Mages looked at him like he was odd, Kings spoke to him like he were not but a witch that should be crucified for his pagan ways or to have his skin melted from his bones in front of the masses; neither seemed to be a good idea in his mind, in all honesty; and following the betrayal of Anna he moved onwards in search for something more. With each failure he moved onward to another area looking for some place to accept him or for him to find work, even if it meant working as a servant for a blacksmith.

Land after land he traveled till he spied a campaign of knights and their squires traveling toward the same kingdom in which he was. He never did speak to them, instead moved to the side and watched as each passed, but there was one man that made his eyes watch till he could not be seen any longer. Dante. Yes, that was what one of the knights called him. Sir Dante. It wasn’t like the knight seemed to be any better then the lot, but there was something that drew him to wonder and even sparked the thought of finding him. There was a familiar aura, a scent that seemed like a home.


The young adult stood their for what seemed like forever, his head tilted toward the ground, those deep blue shards staring down at his booted feet. His mind wasn’t in sync with it though for he attempted to piece together a memory, to jar the familiarity of that man into his conscience mind, but it was nearly impossible at the moment, and he didn’t have much time to ponder on it for an elderly citizen approached him placing a hand on his shoulder pulling him back into the fearful reality of things.

“Young man. Excuse me, Young man are you well?” Her voice cracked, and a wheeze rattled in her chest as each word scratched against his eardrum.

With a gentle shake of his head he came to, him lifting his chin to look at her hearing a soft gasp. “Look at them eyes, so bootaful.” Her compliment came and went with the same confused look painted on his face. His body didn’t even move, it was like he had no clue where he was, and at the very moment he was about to ask, when the woman pushed a loaf of bread wrapped in a cloth against his chest and cut off his words with her own. “Come on young’in, I saw ya starin’ at them dare knights as they went a trottin’ by.” Her hand steered him to turn away from the way he was going and head with her toward a small village.

The walk wasn’t long, and the woman didn’t seem to mind trying to mother him. Did he seem like an orphan child, or was it the fact that maybe she needed his companionship. He never found out the answer, but he did enjoy her hospitality and her cooking.

She sat him down with a bowl of cabbage soup and bread and told her about the grand kingdom of Camelot. She spoke of the history of it all; she spoke of legends and a great king known as King Arthur. She later spoke on about each king afterward till the current one, her stating how grand they were, and how they loved their people.

He could do nothing but smile, nod, and eat as she chatted on, but when she started brining up the knights, his head snapped up wondering if maybe if this mysterious “Sir Dante” would be mentioned. Of course he was, and so were the rumors of him being a creature of the moon. Bradley had a faint idea of what she spoke of, but he wouldn’t go jumping to conclusions about it; not yet anyways.

“Ye could be a squire, Yer young enough and even though ya dun seem very strong.” The woman commented only to note the rise in Bradley’s head and the bread that fell from his fingers to cause a splash in the wooden bowl of cabbage soup. “Did I offend ya, boy?”

Irritation made his brow twitch as those wild blue orbs glowered up at her. He didn’t say anything though, only shook his head and went back to his food. Who was he to judge on others that have an opinion? She didn’t mean it as a foul complaint, but rather a saying that he could better himself by training under a knight. It was an option; well it was his only option that made sense in truth. He wanted to find out what it was that made him watch this “Sir Dante” and what better way then to be his squire.

But was the life of a squire for him? He didn’t know much about all the etiquette, and honor things, and Misty’s stories about his parents pointed out that his parents didn’t seem to have much of a knight’s code of honor either. And again he wasn’t his parents. He was told constantly that he may look like his father but his mind and personality out shown both of his parents, and his lack of wanting to battle was another thing that set him away from his blood. So, maybe… Maybe he could be a grand squire and maybe he could even be good enough to one day become a knight himself, but first thing was first; he had to find the Knight that was rumored to be a child of the moon and convince him that he would be the best choice in a squire.

Having finished up his soup he stood slowly, his belly was full and his path was clear. He knew what he had to do. “Thank you, ma’am, for the supper.” This was the first time he had spoken and it actually took her by surprised for she turned toward him from her knitting staring at him with those aged hues.

“So, ya do speak. I’s was beginnin’ to think ya a mute.”

A smirk curled the right side of his mouth and he fell back into his silence giving her a slight bow of thanks. The woman laughed then her putting the knitting aside and pushing her withered form to her feet.

“Before ye leave…” She limped over to him, her left hand holding the small of her back while the right dug into her pockets for what sounded like coins. “Take these…”

And to the lad’s amazement there he was being offered this old woman’s savings. He was about to deny it, but she insisted and forced his hand open to place the coins in his palm and then folding his fingers over it. “For your journey to Port City.”

The boy would not know what she was talking about at that moment in time but he would later figure out what Port City was. He did bow at the waist though before her and placed his forehead against her wrinkled hand. “I promise that one day I will have the coin to pay ye back, ma’am.”

The woman said nothing else she just patted his head and turned away, leaving him to straighten and slip away into the streets that were turning to darkness.

The lanterns burned till he stepped onto the trial back to Camelot where he was walking in what would seem utter blackness to any but his own kind. It was the one thing that he loved about the blood that ran through his veins; the heightened senses were something he used very often, even if he despised the beast that he was in constant war with in himself.

It was becoming morning when the boy broke through the Camelot territory, and by this time his steps were lagging and he felt like sleep would engulf him at any moment. He was even half tempted to lay down in the stables with the horses to get a bit of sleep. It was better then passing out on the ground, wasn’t it?

But he never got that chance for the moment he came to the stable doors a man came up behind him tapping his shoulder. It scared him at that moment, him turning and nearly stumbling at the sight of a merchant bowing in front of him.

“MiLord! I wish to thank you for your service in protecting my caravan from those bandits earlier today.” Spoke the man toward the ground, even if his words were meant to be spoken to him. The boy did look really confused at this though. Was this another case of him being confused as another? It had been happening ever sense he entered the territory that was Pendragon.

Maybe it was just a coincidence but everyone was calling him M’Lord like he was something special. The only one that hadn’t was that older woman, but again she was overly kind, but she made no note on thinking him anything but maybe a farmer’s boy that hit adulthood and was looking to better himself.

“Ummm...Sir I think you have the wrong man” The lad spoke, this making the merchant stand and lean forward his eyes squinting toward the boy. The man was a heavier man with bright clothes and thin wire glasses. Even his mustache stuck out like none other’s he has ever seen, to say the man looked like anything but a mole was a lie.

“Maybe your right, but you do have the same eyes but your blond hair is a bit short. Yeah, you are not the Lord. Who are you boy?” The closeness made the boy step back and take the space he was entitled, his eyes staring at the man who was a bit taller then he was. The boy said nothing though even when the merchant muttered something and turned away with a huff his mustache seeming to even twitch slightly with the merchant’s fit.

The blond haired boy watched the merchant storm off when he suddenly felt hands in his hair and heard the sweet voices of young girls. “Why did you cut your hair so short, milord?” One girl said while her friend fell into a blushing giggle fit.

He couldn’t do anything but blink at first at the girls as they backed away a few feet and curtsied. With a bit of laughter he stepped towards them him speaking up once again. “I do not know this lord in which you confuse me, but I do assure you I am not him.”

The girls paused in their efforts to impress him and stood up when the red headed one that spoke earlier piped up again. “Well, ya could of said so before hand instead of letting us look like fools.”

“That was not my intention…”

He was cut off then by the blond girl who stepped forth her fingers skimming his jaw. “He looks so much like him doesn’t he, Isabella?”

“That he does, he could even pass as m’lord, or even his child; but I fear that he has not mentioned to any of us that he was a father so this could not be him. Plus this boy looks too old to be the son of him.”

Him. Milord. It was all so confusing on whom in which they spoke but he attempted to fight his curiosity. One mystery at the moment was enough, so he waved the hands from him before interrupting their conversation in which he was the topic of. “Maybe you can help me; I’m looking for Sir Dante. He is a knight-“

“We know what Sir Dante is. He is from Port City. He is the first knight of Britannia as well. He and his other knights were seen coming through here heading toward the castle, you might find him there. Best hurry though or you might miss him.” Both girls seemed to talk in unison and even their hands rose at the same time to point toward the direction in which he must go, even though the image of the castle glared down upon the surrounding village.

“Thanks…” And he ran off leaving them staring at his back. He had to hurry, the girls said so and he didn’t want to miss his chance to speak with this mysterious moon child knight, and possibly get himself a job in the process.

Coming to face the castle gates he stopped him leaning forward his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. Even when the commanding voices of the guards touched his ears he could not speak and could only bring his right hand up in hopes they would give him a minute.

A minute they did give him, and when he rose he glanced up at them seeing only the shiny metal of armor and what seemed like dark brown mops on their head.

“State your name and your business here.”

Business. Why did everyone ask that? He really didn’t have any business, just wanted to find the knight, was that too much to ask for. But then he spied as one knight turned towards the other. Then the older guard yelled back down to him. “Hey are you the ranger?”

Again with the misidentification, and it was starting to get annoying. “No! I am not a ranger! I am but a man looking for Sir Dante!”

That’s when he heard the bellowing laughs storm down on him. “He wants to talk to Sir Dante, now this is interesting, what would Sir Dante want to do with you?”

Irritating, that is what this was and the annoyance creased the skin between his brows. “May I speak with him? Please. I am Bradley Aldermyne of the southern regions of Britain. I am from Maidstone.”

Silence. He didn’t get an answer, only the blank stared from the guards. “Aldermyne, huh?” And he watched as one guard nudged the other. “Hey go inform Sir Dante an Aldermyne is here to see him.”

Inside Camelot’s keep the guard traveled in search for the knight’s of Sir Dante’s campaign knowing where he would find the men he would find the first knight. It didn’t take long though for the servants easily pointed him toward the mess hall.

Approaching the hall the sounds of joyous celebration rang through the doors. Seems the campaign must have gone well and that they succeed, not like they had ever failed.

The heavy doors were pushed open by two servants as the guard entered; he stopped abruptly to scan over the top of the heads of the helmet-less knights. Upon spying Dante the castle guard made his way to him and fell into attention till acknowledged.

Once acknowledgement was made the guard leaned down to whisper the message into the knight’s ear. “Sir there is a lad outside the gates that wishes to speak to you. He claims to be an Aldermyne from the Southern Regions of Britain… Maidstone he says. He seems rather anxious to speak with you for some reason in which he did not say. Will you be having the time to see him?”

The guard stepped back and waited for an answer and orders on what he wished for him to do next.

To Be Continued...