O' children

Chapter 3: Youth (Coincidence)

When Caysa was young, he usually avoided the town. The people didn't like him very much and Caysa didn't like them very much either, unless Sola or Master Uris was with him. Aron too, now, people in Garni tended to give Aron a wide berth, respect, or fear for a prince of the realm which suited both Caysa and Aron just fine, Aron always said he didn't need any other friends anyway.

When he was eight, Caysa had gone into town with Sola, that week's food money in hand. While Sola had aggressed the local merchants and vendors for a better deal on turnips and cabbage, Caysa had wandered over to the where the knights trained, maybe see Aron practicing.

Instead Caysa found Aron sniffling, far from the crowd practically in a dusty alleyway. Fine dirt smudged on his face except for the tear tracks that carved through leaving twin trails of pale skin.

"Aron?" Caysa ran over, pulling his scarf from his neck to dust off the dirt sticking to Aron's face, "how did this happen?"

Aron sniffled harder, although Caysa wouldn't have said that Aron crying was a particularly rare instance, Aron showing so much emotion in public was. He shook his head, hiding his face into Caysa's scarf.

"Please? You can just point them out," Caysa asked, Aron shoved his face into Caysa's shoulder still weeping into Caysa's scarf.

"It was Marko Beratta," Aron whispered, Caysa could barely make out what Aron was saying. Marko Beratta, Marko Beratta... the Beratta's were the original wardens of Mount Verity and Garni, their family had produced Knights of Aradia every generation since. Master Uris had told Caysa that down this far south, they were second in respect only to the actual royal family.

Well, it didn't much seem like the Beratta's respected the royal family if Marko Beratta was throwing dirt in Aron's face. Caysa patted Aron's curly blond head and sat him up against the building.

"Stay here, I'll go talk to him," Caysa stood up, Aron finally lifted his face, the dirt was no less smudged actually. Big, wet green eyes looked up at Caysa, and Caysa smiled down confidently.

Caysa pushed through the legs of other knights and local officials, some moved out of the way, most didn't but that was fine because Caysa's anger wasn't with them. In the ring, however, did stand the object of his ire. Marko Beratta looked very much like his father, floppy brown hair and freckles across his nose and cheeks. Beratta was tall for their age, with a big loud laugh much like the overhead honks of the migrating swans and quick foot work dancing around with his practice partner.

Caysa ducked under the fence, the nearest knight stifled a snort but didn't stop Caysa from striding forwards.

"You! Beratta!" Caysa strode forward, Beratta and the other trainee stopped what they were doing,

Beratta scoffed as Caysa approached: "What do you want, stray rat?"

A poor decision because in the moment Caysa had decided to forget talking all together and instead pulled back his arm to give Beratta a hard slap to the cheek. The silence of the crowd was broken by a few suppressed snickers. Although Beratta's sparring partner spluttered a bit while Beratta himself gave a confused stare.

"What is wrong with you?" Beratta shouted, when he let go of his cheek it was bright pinkish red.

"You threw dirt into Aron's face, you snake," Caysa said, Beratta spat at Caysa's feet, disgusting, before tackling Caysa to the ground. Beratta was taller but not by enough that it disadvantaged Caysa. A few hits and kicks were shared between them, dust and dirt getting kicked up by the squabbling, Caysa grabbed a handful of loose dirt before he was lifted back up along with Beratta, spitting, and swearing at each other.