The sound of a falcon shrieks overhead as it circles around the halo of golden sunlight covering the landscape below. A long stretch of dirt cuts through the glowing fields of wheat on either side. A tall, muscular-looking figure walks slowly down the dirt road, heading away from a tall, stone castle in the distance.
The man’s leather strap shoes beat away on the dusty strip as he summits a hill before stopping at its peak. He brushes the waterfalls of sweat from his brow and takes a swig from his goatskin canteen. The man is covered head to toe in various pieces of leather armor, all written with the scars of previous battles. His upper torso is bare except for some age-old scars and the straps to his travel pack crossing his rippling chest. His lower body is covered with a long, thick, leather skirt and a short sword at his side.
The man swallows a couple quick glugs of stale water before turning around and gazing an eye across the horizon
“Cyrill!” shouts the man with his hands cupped around his mouth.
The word echoes over the waving wheat fields with no reply.
“Cyrill!” he shouts once more with no response
The man sighs, re-slinging his canteen over his shoulder and walking back towards the castle. It didn’t take long for the man to find what he was looking for. On the ground lay a squashed yinglet underneath a travel pack loaded with armor and gear. The man quickly gets down on his knees and flips the rustling pile over. The yinglet rolls with the clattering pack as it desperately gasps for air.
“Sweet mozher of……shit…….gods…..” it barely makes out as it grabs at it’s chest and neck, tiny stalk-like feet flailing in the air.
The sandy-colored yinglet wears a simple garb of an oversized, earthy green, shirt and pants along with a tattered brown bandana across its head.
“Well, I am amazed you made it as far as you did. I told you that pack was too heavy for a yinglet” said the man with a grin
The yinglet rocks back and forth, picking up momentum as it flips itself upright onto its feet.
“I told you Vacar! I am not some stupid, weak yin-AHH!” said the yinglet as its legs wobble and collapse from the overwhelming weight of the pack.
Vacar lets out a short laugh and snort as he rocks his head in his right palm.
“Its not funny! We need to-AHH!” squeaked the yinglet as the heavy pack falls forward, smashing the yinglet face-first into the dirt.
Vacar bursts out laughing at the small limbs skittering in panic under the pack like a spider squashed underneath a book. Vacar grabs the top of the pack and pulls the yinglet to its feet once more, “You know, when I took you on as a squire it was with pity”
“I don’t need your damn pity!” said Cyrill swinging fists helplessly as he dangles from Vacar’s grip.
“But you do need me to travel and I don’t need a dead yinglet on my hands, I need a squire” said Vacar lightly shaking the pack
The yinglet’s limbs go limp at his sides, “Fine! Take some of ze gear”
Vacar sets the pack down and takes some of the heavier items out, “All I ask of you is to be capable, not impervious”
The yinglet stands up, huffing as it readjusts the pack’s straps on its shoulders.
“Cyrill look at me” commanded Vacar in a serious tone as the yinglet looked up into the strong man’s scarred face, “If you really want to be a sellsword one day you have to know your limits”
“Zhat doesn’t sound anyzhing like what a sellsword would say!” complained Cyrill with a pouty face.
“Oh yeah? How ‘bout you tell me what I should be saying then?” said Vacar with crossed arms.
“Zhey should be sayin….like… ‘Be tough, on guard and ready to fight at all times!’” said Cyrill in a deep voice as he tries to flex his non-existent arm muscles.
Vacar picks a dried branch of wheat off the ground and stands in front of Cyrill. The yinglet stares confused at the human as he paces in a circle around the yinglet. Cyrill tries to follow the human’s pace before getting a stinging whap to the back of the head.
“Ow!” squeaks the yinglet as it grasps the back of its head.
“Well it seems you are neither tough or on guard” said Vacar, casting the branch of wheat back onto the bovine shit covered dirt before continuing off down the road.
The yinglet grumbles for a bit, rubbing its still sore head. Cyrill looks down at the wheat branch flickering in a cow pie before looking up at Vacar, moving further into the distance. The little yinglet shrugs the weight of its pack on its sore shoulders before skipping quickly up to Vacar’s side.
“Why did you take my offer? Why did you take me on as squire?” said Cyrill bluntly as he tries to keep pace with Vacar
“Well…let’s just say that I saw promise in you….that and that shaved tail of yours” said Vacar thumbing at Cyrill’s cleanly bandaged tail tip
“What?...You?!.....No!” fumbled Cyrill as he made various accusing faces at Vacar
“You’re a lass. You may think you’re really clever with that gettup but its something I’ve seen quite a couple times before” said Vacar staring ahead at the road
The yinglet continued to make various noises while trying to explain away the tail bandages.
“You think you’re the first female to run away from its enclave?” said Vacar flicking one of Cyrill’s rapidly reddening ears
“Stop zhat! I am male!” said Cyrill grasping his ears to prevent further ear flicking.
“Oh yeah? How about you take that baggy shirt off and show me your chest? I am sure your not using bindings just like all the others” said Vacar pinching at the shoulder of Cyrill’s shirt
Cyrill jumps back, tugging the hem of the tattered green shirt down as his face flusters
“Well..?” says Vacar with a judgmental look and crossed arms as they both come to a stop
The little yinglet looks at Vacar before lifting the hem of the shirt up slowly from its waist. The edge of the shirt gets midway to its stomach before quickly tugging it back down in embarrassment, “Ok ok! You got me! Why do you care so much zhat I am a female?”
“You know the enclaves pay handsomely for a female, any female. I could have just turned you back into your enclave and collected some coin….Did you think about that? Says Vacar spacing out into the circling falcon in the sky
Silence comes over the two as the yinglet anxiously swirls a pile of dirt with the tip of her toe.
“Do you actually want to be my squire or do you just want a free ticket out of town?” said Vacar looking back down at Cyrill
The yinglet’s paw clenches a fistful of dirt, “I want to be your squire”
“You know it’s a hard life, not the pampered oasis you’re running away from” said Vacar flatly
“…….Yes I’ve always wanted zhis life....ze life of a soldier…zhis is in my bones.” said Cyrill stomping a tiny foot
“Ok” said Vacar shrugging and continuing down the road past the yinglet
“I said I want to be your squire” said Cyrill calling out after Vacar
“Heard yah” said the sellssword giving a half-hearted thumbs up as he continued down the road
“Just like zhat?! After all zhat questioning?! Are you crazy!?” said Cyrill once again jogging up along side Vacar
Vacar flicks the yinglets ears once more, “This is gonna be fun if you keep making it so easy to screw with you.”
The yinglet reels again as it screeches in annoyance, grabbing its ears once more
“Lighten up, it’s a long journey to the next town, no time to act like a princess, Cyrillah” says Vacar patting the yinglet on the back with a couple hearty thwaps
The yinglet coughs a couple times in surprise, “How did you know my name?”
The sellsword laughs and shakes his head as the two banter back and forth, heading off into the distance