[b]Elliot Tessel | 67 Days Ago[/b]

Elliot stepped around the table, impatient eyes quickly and efficiently scanning the goblets. He'd been told that a goblet would 'choose him.' As cryptic and stupid as that sounded, he had no reason to doubt it -- Reckonings had been going since long before he had been born, so obviously the system worked. 

His gaze moved around fast and, seemingly against his will, stopped dead as it reached a certain goblet. It was golden, and incredibly intricate. Impossible designs were shaped into the metal, leading down its twisting stem and onto its foot. Several jewel sockets could be found all over it, all of which were conspicuously missing a gem to fill them. Overall, despite its regal, expensive appearance, it was weathered down, the gold faded and several dents visible to the naked eye on its surface -- as though it had been traveled with, used by a person who had braved the harshest enviroments. It's apparent imperfections were anything but to Elliot. They were proof that the goblet had been on adventures, and not simply kept in a cupboard to wow the occasional guest. To top it all off, it seemed to inspire the goblets in its vicinity, making each shine brighter than they would otherwise.

There was no doubt in the boy's mind -- that was [i]his[/i]. He picked it up by the lip with his fingertips, before casually tossing it into the air, causing it to flip once and land in the palm of his hand with a dull slap. With a small smile on his lips, he began making his way to the fountain.

Elliot wasn't worried in the slightest. 'Excited' was a much better way of describing him. He knew that no matter what, he'd become a Mercenary as he had dreamed. If the fountain's water turned any colour other than red, he wouldn't hesitate to exercise his right to choose his own path -- not to mention, he'd lose all the faith he'd had in this little ritual. 

The boy filled the goblet up, and stared at the settling water. Several moments later, a satisfied grin broke out on his face. He was looking at all the validation he would ever need in the world.

The water was, of course, red.

[hr]
[b]Present Day[/b]

Elliot stood in the morning sunlight, battered and bruised, a wooden sword in hand, staring in obvious disgust at another boy around a year older than him. The object of Elliot's annoyance also held a practice sword in his hands, and was panting heavily, sporting a few of his own welts -- while the wooden swords used for sparring weren't razor sharp, they were still heavy enough to cause a good amount of pain on impact.

[color=f26522]"Already? You're already done too?"[/color] Elliot spoke, his dissatisfaction coming through loud and clear. Elliot had been up before the sun, taking swings at straw dummies, and the moment some of the other mercenaries had begun getting out of bed, he had roped one into sparring with him. That first guy had lasted a good hour before calling it quits to go eat breakfast. Immediately, Elliot had found another person. And another. And another, and finally this guy who was already leaving after only twenty minutes.

Elliot clicked his tongue before he turned to address the mercenaries milling about, most of which were minding their own business and preparing for the day. [color=f26522]"Fine. Somebody else get over here to face me, then."[/color]

This was met with more than a few eye-rolls.

"Hey, Lordling!" A voice called out jeeringly. "You're lucky anyone's agreed to spar with you at all. We have things to do, stop being such a burden."

'Lordling.' Elliot's eye twitched against his will at the insult, one that had become commonly used on him since the group had discovered how easily it upset him.

[color=f26522]"If you have time to taunt me, you have time to raise a sword, Nicholas,"[/color] he answered, swallowing his anger and putting an antagonizing grin on instead.

Another eye roll, followed by silence as the rest ignored him.

Elliot bit his lip in light frustration. [color=f26522]"You people should all be jumping at the chance to spar with a real partner!"[/color] he said in exasperation. [color=f26522]"It's a far better use of you time than beating on a straw dummy -- or worse, lazing around and waiting for orders, as you lot are doing."[/color]

This got Nicholas to speak up again. "Shut your mouth, Lordling, I'm getting sick of listening to your voice." 

[color=f26522]"And I will. As soon as one of you cowards agree to stand against me ."[/color]

Nicholas let out something between a growl and a sigh. "Fine. I'll force you to be quiet by knocking you unconscious with a few dozen blows to your head."

Despite the violent threat, Elliot gave a toothy grin. [color=f26522]"That's the spirit!"[/color]

[hr]
Nearly two hours later, both young men stared each other down, gasping desperately for air. Elliot grinned through the pain and discomfort he was experiencing, while Nicholas scowled, wondering why his foe wouldn't go down.

"This is ridiculous!" he said through deep breaths. "Had we been using real swords, you'd have been dead ten times over already! You've lost, so just quit!"

Elliot's smile only widened at the man's frustration -- what he said was entirely true; Elliot had been whacked real good several times, even once directly across the face, the welt and bleeding gash under his left eye as the proof. In contrast, Elliot had only dealt a few 'killing' blows -- which he had completely expected. It was no secret that his sword wielding and technique was awful in comparison to those who had been trained their entire lives, such as Nicholas. Every time Elliot challenged someone, he had little doubt that he'd be soundly beaten.

But that was okay. He did his best to study his opponent during their spar, to understand what they do and why, and to see if he can learn from that to improve himself.

[color=f26522]"But we aren't using real swords, so why stop?"[/color] 

With that, he ran forward, keeping himself low as he approached Nicholas, who stumbled backwards, raising his sword and swinging down. As the other boy's speed and power had dropped considerably due to exhaustion, Elliot saw it coming and reacted with plenty of time to spare, knocking it away with a large, two-handed up-swing, a blink before barrelling into the bigger man with his shoulder, knocking him off his already unsteady feet and onto his back.

Without hesitation, he reasserted his grip on his sword and brought it down point first over Nicholas' chest, stopping just short.

After a long moment, Elliot spoke. [color=f26522]"'Nother round?"[/color]

Another long moment passed as the boy on the ground looked up in palpable annoyance, the triumphant, cheeky grin on Elliot's face doing nothing to help his mood. "Screw that. I've got better things to do."

[color=f26522]"That's a shame. If ever you feel like having a punching bag again, give me a shout."[/color] That got a small laugh out of Nicholas as he accepted the other boy's hand, pulling himself up of the ground, muttering about how much of a piss-off the fresh recruit was.

Elliot reached up and wiped as his cheek, wincing lightly as he felt the bruise and cut. He glanced at the back of his hand as it came away covered in blood, but quickly wiped it off on his shirt, looking around impatiently as he did so.

[color=f26522]"Anybody else?"[/color] he said.