Turning Page

Chapter one

Gladio was born into war. His father wouldn't allow his son to sit idly by and started training him in combat as soon as he could walk. So, he was no stranger to bloodshed or bodies. Given the fact he hadn't been in a real battle, he was too young, far too young but that didn't stop him from being educated and put to the test. Since he could read he was given book after book on the various fae-folk to study, learn their weaknesses so he too could one day defend against them and protect his King.

At twelve he saw his first fae. His father and the Glaive had just returned from an advance on a fae encampment, prisoners in tow as they marched through the gates. The books had always described them as monsters, beings that lacked any human traits and delved into black magic. What he saw contradicted everything he thought he knew.

At the rear of the trail of prisoners were two boys, children that can't be older than Gladio himself. They were bound and blindfolded. He felt a pang of something, remorse perhaps, or guilt, knowing that children younger then him were suffering because of this war. A war Gladio couldn't even comprehend the existence of. But at a mere twelve years old it wasn't unusual for him to be sceptical and curious. For the foreseeable future he'd be juggling right and wrong, not truely sure which is which until it's too late and the damage done.

Clarus looked down at his son, noticing how the boy watched with mixed feelings, his attention on the two boys alone. "Don't fret Gladiolus. We do not execute children. They'll be put to work or freed into the city." He assured.

In the past, when a fae child of some kind was captured they'd enter a life of servitude, ultimately ending in their death. Gladio had yet to see such a thing, many of those children didn't survive long and it was unlikely these two would be much different. Skinny and weak, unable to defend themselves from the severely prejudice humans, the crown would not defend the enemy after all. It wasn't really the crown's choice, the Chancellor had demonstrated the threat the fae posed and forced the King's hand through the people. The Amicitia family followed any order given by the King, the Crownsguard followed their order and so on.

"Put to work where? They're too little to work, sir." Gladio questioned, unsure of what such small children could be used for.

His father didn't answer immediately. "That remains to be seen. I have something in mind for the Elf. What say you to a duel, Gladiolus?" Clarus responded, glancing down at Gladio.

"Of course, sir." Gladio swiftly replied. "But, aren't Elves meant to be magic?"

"Supposedly yes. However, it appears to be an increasingly uncommon trait. Only High Elves have the power to use magic and there aren't enough of them left to be a threat. You will duel him and we shall see what measures must be taken. The Pixie is far less dangerous and will be sent to live in the city."

So perhaps not everything Gladio had read was a lie. Different fae had different traits, that was it. Pixies were more pranksters than fighters, though they could potentially kill you will a violent trick or two. Elves don't go seeking battles but when in the midst of one, are liable to end you swiftly with their blades or magic, typically they're the first to go next to Red Caps or Banshee's. They're also the only type of fae-folk that humans could... Co-exist with.

Gladio turned his gaze to his feet once the boys were out of sight. "I understand. When should I be ready, sir?"

"Report to the training hall in one hour. Don't be late."

He waited until his father, soldiers and civilians departed, shuffling over to the grate to the dungeon. Through the bars he could see the two boys huddled together not too far away, their frightened expressions pierced Gladio's heart. His father would scold him mercilessly for feeling sympathy for the fae.