The Knight Sky


Prologue: Malformed

Trionna stared forlornly out of the window as she reflected upon the day’s events. She had been to the slave market, Armanaria, with her father, the king of Rivoran, earlier that morning. Armanaria was a huge establishment just outside the brother kingdom of Zephyn. It was comprised of several tents housing various traders. In the center of the pavilion sat a wooden stage that was several feet long to show case the slaves on. Along its length were the occasional sets of stocks for the slaves that couldn’t be counted on to stand still.

They had bought several slaves, but only two stood out in the young princess’s mind, first there was Jewel, a girl of about 19 with violet eyes and hair so blond that it was almost white. There was almost nothing odd about her, but she looked strangely like Trionna’s late mother, Gwyndolyn. The girl had also said something rather disturbing about the kingdom falling. She had said as well something about a serpent rising from the smoke of the past to strike down the king. Now, Trionna didn’t believe that the girl was an oracle, but couldn’t help but wonder if what she had said was true.

And then there was the second slave, the girl’s brother, Sky. He had blonde hair and blue-green eyes. Trionna had set him apart as a werewolf the instant she saw him; in the dark, those blue-green eyes were amber and the pupils were always slit. He was the same age as Trionna, 13, but seemed to possess a quiet wisdom unknown to even those of a much greater age. He was small and quiet and did not in the least bit accept being a slave, doing everything he could to defy Darius. Jewel was Trionna’s personal slave, but was more of a sister. Sky, however, had been sent to the slave quarters.

Trionna watched the squires training on the grounds below as she contemplated the two slaves; she was hoping to see either Hawthorn or Luke. Outside of Trionna’s perception, Hawthorn was far from worthy of being a knight; he only held practice battles with the youngest of the squires. He was big and burly, but not very bright. His hair was a mousy brown color and his eyes were a blackish brown color. His heart was cold as ice and cruel as a whip.

Luke, however, was small and wiry. He had jet black hair and deep blue eyes. His opponents of choice were the squires closer to becoming knights. Again outside of Trionna’s perception, Luke would often gaze longingly at the palace and day dream about one day becoming king.

Trionna stood near the open window and closed her eyes, wondering what it felt like to be a knight. She opened her eyes again and looked around her room. It was quite large enough to house two or three people. In the winter and fall it was warm and in the spring and summer it was cool, quite comfortable. On the floor was a blue rug made out of what was rumored to be elfish material. On the walls hung portraits of Darius and Gwyndolyn, along with murals of the great kings of the past and paintings of whose occupants, dragons and other creatures of lure, Darius did not approve. Under the scads of paintings and such the wall was quite plain and gray. Off to one side of the room lay a closet large enough to hold the clothing of five squires, two pages, and one knight. On the other side of the room there was a lavatory with a magnificent tub in which to bathe, along with multiple towels also said to be of elfin make. There was also a large sink, big enough to bath a half-grown pit-bull in as some wager, inlaid with a few serpents. Along with all other lavatory necessities. Against one wall there was, of course, the bed. It was a very soft bed, made out of feathers, and down, covered in blue sheets and a blue blanket inlaid with gold and silver serpents entwined upon a black tree, as was the symbol of the house of Darius. On one side of the bed there was a lantern and flint on a small end table. On the other side there was a writing desk and chair, bought from a dwarfish trader by Gwyndolyn on a trip to southern Olysdale when Trionna was three. It was intricately carved to depict a brave knight being turned into a dragon to save a princess.

Trionna sighed and stared back out the window almost as if in a trance. She stirred excitedly a moment later as she noticed Hawthorn dueling Luke; battles between these two were always the most interesting. She gasped in disappointment as Hawthorn won the duel, jabbing a blunt sword into the protective padding on Luke’s chest. Luke seemed to shrug before turning to walk away. Hawthorn made a small movement before somehow encouraging the wrath of a small slave. The lad seemed furious and Hawthorn seemed bored. He eventually grew tired of whatever the lad was trying to tell him and made the mistake of hitting him quite sharply with the practice sword. The boy stared up at Hawthorn with what looked to Trionna to be amazement. He seemed to nod a few times and was about to leave, and that was Hawthorn’s mistake. He aimed a swipe at the boy’s head. The slave seemed to expect it and, instead of doing the sensible thing and ducking, jumped. He not only made it over the sword, but on top of the sword. He wrenched it from Hawthorn’s grasp and hit the knight in training in the stomach with it hard enough to drive the breath from a dragon. Trionna smiled grimly; whatever happened next would most likely not be in the little slave’s favor. She brushed a strand of honey-colored hair out of her eyes and wandered to the writing desk, fingering the one flaw that it possessed: There was a malformed bit of wood on the knight’s face, giving him a slightly wolf-like shape. Trionna shivered even though it was still early spring; the desk was so perfect, all except that one flaw.



(Please feel free to post a response, I need feedback )



Chapter 1: Sky

Sky sighed quietly under the slave master’s intense gaze. The man didn’t quite seem to know what to do with him and wasn’t at all pleased about it. Sky had already worked out that defiance was not, by any means, the way to get out of this place. He had already tried that earlier, and would have paid severely if not for Luke, and failed. He looked with contempt into the slave master’s almost brutish face. The man was tan and grizzled and, in Sky’s opinion, in much need of a bath. He had gray eyes and gray hair with one pitiful streak of black holding on to youth for all it was worth. The man sighed. “Can ye’ lift heavy objects?” Sky blinked and tilted his head. The slave master looked as though he really wanted to slap himself. “Can ye’ clean out t’ horse’s stall?” Sky blinked again and seemed to become utterly fascinated with a group of ants killing a cockroach nearby. The slave master actually did slap himself. “Can ye’ speak?” Sky glanced up at him. “Yes.” He muttered. A low growl omitted from the slave master’s throat and Sky decided not to push his luck. “I can lift heavy objects, with some difficulty. I don’t prefer to clean the stalls of horses, but I can. And I can manage just about any work you give me, though can and will are two different things.” The slave master looked nearly ready to faint; he was certainly unused to slaves telling him how exactly things were going to be. He rolled his eyes, thinking that it must be a joke of some sort. “Now, see here lad, yer’ going earn a small amount of money for evry full week of jobs that ye’ do. Ye’ll not be given the money, but ye’ weel be able to lose money if ye’, shall we say, stray from yeer proper place. Ye’ manage to make 7000 crowns and yee’re free. Just so ye’ know, only three slaves have ever been able to. If ye’ do anything against the rules or without permission ye’ll be given the choice to either take a very severe punishment or take a small punishment and pay for yeer folly with a staggering amount of yeer freedom money. Ye’ may think ye’ll just accept the punishment when it comes around, but ye’ don’t know ow’ we deal wif little mizcreants yet, do ye?” Sky nodded several times and tried to hide a grin; this man clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with. “I’m sure we can work that out later, sir. About the work, you’ll find that the whip is not a useful tool at all when you want someone to hurry, nor is screaming at them until your throat bleeds. You’ll soon realize that if you just leave me alone, the job will eventually get done.” The slave master huffed, trying to appear angry; he knew he would get on well with this lad, for once there was a slave who didn’t know their proper place. This would be interesting.
Sky was sent to fetch the squires water and polish their weapons and armor and make sure that the barracks were clean and tasks such as that, it was just about the easiest set of jobs that he could be assigned. All beginning slaves start with squires, as the people of Rivoran say.
The training field where the barracks were located was a huge expanse of grass with several manikins and targets positioned in various places around it. It looked random, but there was order to the seeming madness. The field was broken up into areas for jousting, fencing, archery, swordsmanship, dueling, stealth, and a whole manner of things Sky couldn’t put a name to.
Luke was almost always at the training field practicing some skill or another, and was not the type of person to ignore someone else’s presence. Needless to say, he introduced himself to Sky and Sky was not completely friendless after all. This proved very useful indeed, as Sky was a werewolf.
Now, not all werewolves are seemingly demon possessed monsters when they transform. Some do lose control and bite anyone who is foolish enough to come near, some but not all. But a group of anything is often thought of as one, and all get blamed for the folly of a few. So werewolves are hated in just about every kingdom, Rivoran being no exception. It was bound to happen eventually; nature doesn’t change because you’re in a kingdom in which your entire species is hated. After about a month Sky did become a wolf. Now, what happened next can’t be completely blamed on squires who were in the field at the moment; imagine brushing up on your fighting skills and suddenly being drenched with water because the slave holding the water bucket has become a wolf and thus unable to lift the bucket. Now imagine he starts growling and flexing his claws and howling and other perfectly normal wolf behaviors. 13 in werewolf years is still a cub, barely able to walk yet and very cute as well. The little creature is black with gray ears that it hasn’t quite grown into yet and has a white tail tip and one toe is brown. It has a reddish-brown streak down its back and its fur is long and soft. It comes up to the average 13 –year- olds knee. It’s so cute that it’s almost sickeningly so. Most people would feel an impulse to pick it up and squeeze it and stroke it, which is where the frightening part is: this adorable little ball of fluff used to be human. Quite obviously, most of the squires screamed and ran for the hills, or tried to; the training field is flat. One week later, when Sky transformed back into a human, some of the squires decided to play with their inner villain. They slipped a sleeping drug into Sky’s rations and took him to the forest. They had fashioned a sort of collar out of mettle and put it around Sky’s neck, attached a chain to it, and tied the other end of the chain to a tree. Needless to say, Sky got a very rude awakening. The squires stayed there until he woke up and then hit him several times with clubs, which was when Luke showed up. No one’s really sure what happened next, only the squires never bothered Sky again. Not long after the incident Sky started gaining higher rank among the slaves and was given harder work, which in turn earned more money toward freedom.
Jewel, however, already had several companions along with the envy of several maids. She and Trionna might as well have been sisters. They would often sit and chat idly for hours, or watch the squires training and decide who they thought would make the best knight.

Sky worked hard, got away with what was considered virtual murder because he had Luke watching out for him, and was no longer subject to cruel treatment because of being a werewolf.

But all was not well in the kingdom; Arren, Darius’s former adviser, had been seen in the southern province of Rivoran. This would normally be considered a social call, but Arren was no longer Darius’s adviser because he had, in fact, tried to take over the kingdom a few years before. Fear stirred as people were left to wonder if Arren would attack.

Meanwhile, Sky had troubles of his own; He had never been away from his sister for this long. That, added to the fact that no one had bothered to tell him that his sister wasn’t even a slave, caused him more than a little worry. For the time being, he took his frustration out on the never ending chores and tasks assigned to him. Luke, sensing that Sky needed some sort of distraction, had begun teaching him to sword fight. So it was that, one day, as Trionna was taking a leisurely afternoon ride, she came upon Sky viciously hacking a pile of firewood to bits. “Die Darius, pirates, whoever made this happen.” The boy was muttering furiously under his breath. Trionna flinched. “I could have you hanged for that comment about my father.” She said imperiously. Sky paused in mid hack and looked up at Trionna with an expression commonly adapted by four year olds who have been caught in the act of wrong doing. Sky only stared. “No, maybe hanging is too good. I could have you assigned more difficult work.” Trionna glared at the boy as she stated what seemed to her like a horrible threat. Much to her surprise, Sky started laughing, just barley, but still laughing. “I’m already being assigned the most difficult work, princess. Have you ever had to trim grass with a knife?” he pulled a knife from somewhere on his belt, tossed it into the air, and caught it by the tip of the blade. Trionna looked puzzled. “You have to use a knife to trim the fields?” Sky blinked. “What did you think we were using?” Trionna thought for a moment. “I don’t know, horses, maybe, or some sort of cart with blades under it.” Sky grinned. “One day, maybe, but for now it’s either a knife, or, if a slave has been extremely obedient, a sword.” The grin slowly faded. “You aren’t really going to tell anyone that bit about… Him… Are you?” “No, I suppose not. But only because I like you, if you were that lad who snapped at Hawthorn not too long ago I would have to… What’s so funny?” Sky had started smiling again. “You mean Hawthorn? He deserved it. Do you know what he tried to do to Luke?” Trionna’s mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t think of any reply other than, “Well, you should learn to respect your superiors.” She flicked her hair as if she were trying to show off. Sky stared; who was this girl that acted as if she had personally assisted in hanging the moon? And then it hit him, hard. “You said your father is Darius, didn’t you?” Sky muttered quietly. Trionna grinned. “Yes I did, and you had better hope that I don’t tell anyone that you want him to die, you could get killed for saying that.” Sky tried to appear unfazed. “Oh, well, I don’t particularly care anyways. Jewely’s already been killed…” Trionna held up a hand for him to be quiet. “Jewely, you mean Jewel?” Sky nodded and Trionna laughed. Sky backed away reproachfully. “What’s so funny about my sister being dead?” Trionna stopped laughing at once. “Are all boys as ignorant as you? She isn’t dead; she’s my personal slave, though I never make her do any work. She’s my best friend, really.” Sky seemed completely relieved at this bit of news. He was about to say something when a whip snapped somewhere behind him, accompanied by a shout of:”Oy, ye! Stay away from er’ ye’ foul beast!” Sky suppressed a grin with extreme difficulty. The slave master lumbered over and glanced up at the princess. “Is this were’olf runt givin’ ye trouble, yeer majesty?” Trionna chuckled. “Oh, no. I was just talking to him. He’s an excellent worker, sir. You ought to pay him more.” Sky, who had had both eyes closed very tightly and been praying that Trionna not tell anything he had said about Darius, opened one eye. “What? I- I mean, an honor, princess. What? “The slave master wandered away, leaving Sky and Trionna alone. A cloud passed over the sun, considerably darkening the area. In the darkness Sky’s eyes glowed amber and the slit pupils became more visible. It lasted only a moment, but it was long enough for Trionna to feel a rush of resentment toward the werewolf standing before her. She felt as if she were in the presence of something vile, evil, a murderer. Without explanation she turned and sped toward the castle, leaving Sky to wonder what was wrong.

Awww, thanks Draco.

I'll post the second chapter later today.


Oddly, I only came up with Sky this year, but he's my favorite out of all of my book charries... My oldest story is called Knights of the Northern Star, I finished writing it in a little notebook when I was like, nine, but it was really weird, so I'm editing it to make it more mature...

I once thought of making a fan-fic before. But I figured I wouldn't have the time, and I thought I wouldn't do very well at it. Anyway, I really like the story, keep up the good work!!!

Yes I'm sure, I have alot of them already written down on my computer. I'm just copying and pasting them from my desktop.