[Cain]

Dawn bled through the sky in colors of cranberry and grape, as dew settled on grass and mist hung low thick enough to breathe in. Cain left the comforts of his family’s temporary den as the group travelled, day by day, seeking whatever it was that hunted other creatures … hunted them.

Never meeting sabers or humans, Cain had thought wolves were at the top of the food chain. The new beast that prowled all these lands far and wide proved otherwise, and the adolescent didn’t know what to make of this. He came close to facing his own mortality back in Borogrove. He didn’t want to go through that again. 

He found tracks of black blood on the ground and began following them, sniffing cautiously. Still as vile a smell as ever, but the early morning helped him sharpen his focus, when nothing else stirred save for the thrushes amongst the trees, and so off he went, mapping nearby landmarks to make sure he didn’t get too lost and needed a quick getaway. 

[Templar]

The journey had exhausted them all, Templar was no exception. Though he had traveled through the Wall of Teeth and into the Straits, and even further as Redania was far beyond the horizon, the Knight hadn't trained himself in some time. Hadn't kept in shape as he should. He had endured, however with a stone expression with a reassurance whenever he was asked if he would be alright. Faith drove him forward and the will to protect was his life's duty.

He had risen at the crack of dawn, slowly sliding himself from Filianore's frame and out into the cold. Templar would find a secluded spot to pray, reciting the Chant of Light; Benedictions 4:10 and 4:11. They were a prayer in these dark times as the Monsters closed in on their world.

"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written." he uttered before lifting his head to notice Cain walk from the den and wander from their safe haven. He was silent, eyes and head following until the boy disappeared from sight. It was then the Knight stood and followed, calm in his stride as he would easily catch up to the young boy.

Templar paused as he caught the sight of a black trail, and he knew then that Cain would follow. A sheep astray from the herd could be plucked by predators so easily, but a shepherd was never far away. And so the Knight calmly went after him, ignoring the foul smell of rancid blood. After a while, when he knew they were getting further than comfortable, Templar would call out to him. "Cain." A simple command, but one loud enough for the boy to hear if he hadn't noticed by now that he was being followed. "It's not wise to wander too far."

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[Cain]

He tried not to look too disappointed when Templar had caught up with him; he shouldn’t have underestimated the eyes and nose of an ex-Police. He had said it wasn’t “wise” to wander far, and a bubble of teen indignation surfaced in his heart. Parents can be so smothering!!!!

“I know. I’m being careful.” He turned away to sniff at another black spot in the grass, wrinkling his snout in disgust.

The silence hung like the mist itself. Cain sighed; whether to the almost-indomitable task of finding the black-goo-death creature that was killing everything, or to the fact that he still felt so awkward speaking with the older wolf. He had thought he didn’t need another father figure. He had three of them at one point. At one point …

“Ser,” he began. “What … do you remember of my fathers? If anything … please tell me.” Cain hunched himself over, gritting his teeth with the words he was about to speak. “Sometimes I … don’t … remember their faces. Or at least I think I don’t. It’s blurry. Every time I want to remember them, Filianore’s face pops up instead … and … fire. Smoke. Screaming.”

He craned his neck around to meet Templar’s gaze, eyes already stinging with tears.

“I don’t want what’s happening now to take you both away from me!! I don’t want to forget yours and Filianore’s faces! If I’m strong … if I become strong, I can prevent needless death. I can protect the ones I love. Just like you.”

Just like a templar.

[Templar]

The reaction he got wasn't completely unexpected, in fact Templar saw a lot of himself in this boy. He was one of the feistier of his siblings, always striving for more, but would brood when things didn't go right. Cain however, had every right to be distant. His family was taken from him, his home was burned to the ground and all he had left were two strangers. Filianore was more of a familiar face than Templar had been, but even so, this was not the future they all saw coming.

The man shifted to walk forward again, this time edging past the boy to look at the trail as they stood there in silence. It lead deeper down into the valley, possibly a day old. They weren't far behind, they were gaining around at least.

The Knight glanced to Cain when he was addressed, noting he was no longer determined about the monsters that fled into the world, but rather his own plights. "I... only talked with one of them. Martin. I saw Rosenlund a couple of times and I know not of your third." he said as Cain hunched over before continuing. Templar would face him fully now, turning his body to the boy. Brow furrowed, the venting troubling. Of course it would be, the event that took place was traumatic, nothing what a young lad should go through.

The tears though, is what softened the man's face.

He would sit then, the black blood witness to this interaction as it sat between them, like a barrier. "I don't remember my mother's face either nor my father." he admitted, amber eyes shifting to the sky. This time of the year, it would be snowing in the Pontar Valley, the pyres of the chantry blazing hot against the frigid cold. It had been quite some time since he had left his home, and by the age his parents were when he left, they were possibly deceased. His father at least would be gone, as Knights did not tend to live as long.

Templar had been chosen at birth to become a Knight of the Flaming Rose, an honor in any family. He and his brother showed promise, trained every day and spent hours in front of a candle reciting the scriptures of Andraste; The Chant of Light. He knows every verse by heart, every prayer of the Eternal Fire. Cain wished to become stronger, to help them in the endeavors to help protect. Templar could not teach him everything, he wouldn't ever consider forcing the boy to become Tranquil. It was a cruel practice, one that could kill. It had killed many that were not worthy to become a Knight. Templar had been fortunate enough to break Tranquility.

"Do you wish to learn the path of a Knight? To serve and protect? To know purpose and the will that is of the Maker? It is not an easy path." Templar glanced back down to Cain, staring at the boy with little emotion. He was serious, and the road would be hard to follow. "Do you think you're willing enough?" A question of harsh reality, yet one that needed to be asked.

Are you strong enough?

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[Cain]

The tears that had stung so before now freely flowed, and Cain quickly shoved one paw in front to wipe them away. Martin. Rosenlund. Names he hadn’t heard in a long time.

“… and I know not of your third.”

“Adriel.” He quietly whispered, more to himself than to Templar. The blurred likenesses of their faces now sharpened in his mind’s eye once all the names had been said, and thus were released to the void. It is done; this was but the first step of many in leaving Borogrove’s demons behind him.

He blinked when he heard that the older wolf couldn’t remember the faces of his parents either, and as he said that, Cain noticed a type of … softness within him. He had never seen Templar with any other expression other than stoic and serious, so this was a surprise. A not-entirely-bad one.

Were he a bit more crude, Cain would’ve probably said something like “guess we’ve both got dead parent issues hahaha”, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t. He simply nodded, comfortable in this newfound kinship between them.

--

When Templar finished his proposition, the boy-teen sat dumbfounded. He certainly wasn't expecting this turn of the morning. 

“A … Knight …” He let the title roll over his tongue. He thinks he knows what Templar is asking of him. To have an iron will, and a strong heart, and to never, ever bend under pressure, physical or mental. Was he capable of this? Would he endure? 

Filianore's gentle face flashed inside his head through the fog of doubt, and he knew then his answer. 

With jaw set, he exclaims, “Yes! I will do whatever it takes to follow your path; I will not bend or break. Please teach me the way of the Knight, ser Templar!”

[Templar]

Adriel was not a name he had heard before, so the Knight kept quiet on the matter. There was no use on opening more wounds within the boy, and reminiscing could do just that. The boy seemed to calm himself after Templar confessed he had forgotten the faces of his mother and father. Even his siblings, and he often wondered what their names were. Some he had forgotten, some had come back to haunt him. Either way, there was common ground between the man and the boy.

And the boy thought of this proposition that Templar offered. It was not something he would normally ask of anyone, let alone a child. Yet this boy would soon become a man, and eventually had to take care of himself. The three fathers that had been lost in the aftermath were gone, and Cain had no guidance besides Filianore and Templar. They were the bridge between life and death. Now the Knight offered purpose and a way to gain strength, to stand alone if Cain must.

In conclusion, Cain wished to know how to become like a Knight. It was a long journey, Templar had trained his entire childhood and a year before he was promoted. They did not have that time or luxury, the abominations would surely test the will of this boy. A testament to his coming of age.

First things was first, the boring part of the lessons. Templar hated the days before he physically trained, but he was glad he had endured the lectures and scripture work beforehand. It gave him the faith and courage to fight through anything. To fight through Tranquility. "So be it." he said, standing once again and turning back from whence they came. "Come then, you have work to do."

And oh how he would hate it.

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