Prelude 1 - Names

"Are you absolutely sure you understand name registration? Once entered, I can't change it.”

<Enter adventurer name> -

Kearny Lindgren tightened his brow at the question and asked, "What does that mean?”

A restless grumble wafted through the air behind him. He shifted his feet and amended, "Never mind! Uh, yes! Of course. Just making sure."

Seated before him at a wooden table, which had been half-assembled when he got in line and teetering at the edge of crumpling into pieces every time someone put weight on it, with a lavender quill and unrolled scroll was a dark-haired man with ringed but still vibrant blue eyes.

This line before a table was one of several dozen positioned in a horseshoe pattern in this open field in South Pronderosa (known by many names). To the north, looming like a silver stone beacon he could see for miles, was the towering pinnacle of Elshelm Castle. It was easy to get lost in its majestic splendor and Kearny had whiled away the waiting time in line teasing out what details he could distinguish and squinting to resolve more. Even with the waiting finally nearly done (he hoped), the beauty of it still drew his eye to check and make sure this wasn't just some hay-seated dream he'd be torn from by a friendly lick from a hungry cow.

Despite and perhaps because of Kearny's scramble of responses, the man at the table explained, "This is a soul-bound parchment. It links to Yggdrasil. What is committed to it is as sure as anything written in the Heart of Life itself. Plenty of things can be changed, but this would take Beyond Celestial Currency and I can't tell you how to get that without going to some...outside source."

Kearny drew in a breath as he scolded himself. After all these years, after all he and Cestia had discussed, planned, and imagined, he was getting stuck on a name? Preparing how to spell it in runeish took a while. All the ancient heroes had their names engraved in rune.

His name was such a simple one. Kearny. A farmer sort of name. Nothing proud and honorable to be preserved throughout the ages to come. Men like Theros in ancient times literally gave name to "heroes". Kearny the Gre...he couldn't even finish the thought.

Some were born to a name destined to be written about. He needed to call upon the divine whispers, a mere feather of inspired thought dropped by a Valkyrie. Just a push in the right direction.

The restless band of would-be adventurers behind him shifted at his distracted, prolonged silence. Back home, he had so many beautiful little places to sit and let his mind sift towards all the pieces of understanding he needed. But the stern northern winds tussled his crimson locks. Soon evening would give way to nightfall. Cestia was waiting for him within the castle walls. He had to put down his name. Let history deal with it.

Fighting an indecisive shiver, he swiftly blurted out, "K-A...no. It should be..."

The man's quill remained fixed against the parchment. "I already have K and A down. Sorry. I can only add to it." Weakness barreled over Kearny like a seaside wave. He'd ruined it!

K-A....what could he even do with those? For all the books he borrowed recounting tales of glory, not a single one began with those letters. He could just omit the E. On with it.

"Y!" Only a moment later did he realize he'd again hopped over a character, to the very end. He clung to no hope that the man behind the table had missed his proclamation.

A thin and trembling man ahead of him in line had ended his adventure without ever commanding ink to parchment while wanting to settle a system that only runes he confirmed one at a time be used. He was soon asked that if he couldn't be confident in something so simple as a letter then how could he possibly survive in the wilds?

That mounting indictment was creeping from the back of his head like a spider sneaking across his scalp. He'd come this far and messed up the very first thing.

Salvaging what was left, he concluded with the E and settled that he could do nothing more.

"K-A-Y-E. That's it?"

By contrast, his family name flowed out of his mouth without a single stutter or hiccup.

"I have KAYE LINDGREN. Are you done?"

<Adventurer Name> KAYE LINDGREN _

He sure felt "done", in so many ways. When the man lifted his quill, a swirl of golden light bloomed like an unwavering candle flame. It stretched in ethereal tendrils into Kaye's heart. And so Kaye he would be.

<KAYE LINDGREN CONFIRMED>

He urged himself that it could've been so much worse. The name he fumbled through could've been some embarrassing or unpronounceable nonsense. Still, reaching across the table without resting his arms on it, Kaye, as he would be known, drooped his shoulders as he retrieved his parchment.

His eye quivered like a wind-up toy desperately needing repair as he shuffled to the side with his document in hand. The thoroughly-mended satchel on his shoulder brought out a full ache before he managed to shift it to the other side. Staggering with the tilt in weight, he made his way across a well-worn, grassy knoll. Several traveling wagons with hitched horses encircled a camp with rich smells soaring through the now-brisk breeze.

Kaye and Cestia had made due with dried meats and hardened crackers for most of the trip and the prospect of fresh meals, even something simple at an inn, along with a nice bathhouse soak, softened the mess of bitter feelings inside him.

Forests of dewy evergreens stretched beyond the encampments as he hurried to the next task.

Registration should've been the easy part. Just step up, say his name in runeish, and walk along to the next thing. But the clammy tension of waiting, along with the sights and...no. Excuses. That's why he was in this first fumble to begin with. He hurried through the paperwork without thinking. And he had no idea of half what the man at the table had even said to him. Where was the next spot?

After wheeling around in a few circles, a familiar voice called out, "You made it!"

Leaning against a wooden fence with an unlit iron oil lamp dangling to the side, Kaye immediately felt a rush of anxiety tangled in relief at Suray's beaming face framed by the cascading spills of her honey-tinted blond hair swirling and twisting across her shoulders.

Before he could properly greet her, dust off the hours of the day, or shake the foul percolating sweat from his body, she wrapped him up in a full and swallowing hug. In an instant, he felt ten again with Cestia cheering and yelling about some important frog Kearny and she had found while chasing each other around the forest behind the moss-eaten barn at the edge of the Lindgren farm.

"Sunray caught you!" He knew not to twist away from her like when he was small and barely tolerated a slight embrace by distant, departed relatives. She went to war when he did that. Every inch of him not calloused by work or where daily chores hadn't touched would be discovered, plundered, and goosed till he couldn't breathe. Cestia took notes.

But he wasn't ten anymore. Not that it mattered to Suray. She may have receded to a head shorter than him, but she still and always loomed. And she knew when something was bothering him clearer than his parents ever did.

"What's wrong?" Serious voice. Something was wrong and she needed to slay it. Kaye's eye gave a quick twitch, as though afraid to move more than that in Suray's presence.

He wanted to just tell her "everything". From waking up, Cestia had been ready to go at dawn with the embers of their campfire cooling in a clearing. He blearily stammered words of encouragement even though it was just shouting to give aid to a storm.

The last thing he saw was Cestia's whipping cloak of vibrant-blue hair struggling to keep up with her. Ever since then, all had gone wrong from small steps in the mud to this perilous fall from the simplest move forward. If Cestia had been here, he would've had the confidence to not ignore and push ahead like an idiot. She would've kept him in check.

But they weren't children anymore. He had to be better, vigilant without someone helping him out. In this golden age of adventurers, he was just one among a throng of many, called to the Runic Lands and Elshelm Kingdom by stories, dreams, and possibilities.

He kept it simple, wrapped his emotions close like a secured bundle of wood, and declared, "I gave my name...poorly for the parchment scribe. I'm Kaye Lindgren now."

Suray scooted around once releasing her hug, not actually freeing him so much as letting him squirm a little less. Her eyes scanned the document before responding, "Now why did you go and do that?"

His sighed, defeated answer of, "I dunno. I just messed up", felt even more pathetic. Without warning, she nudged him in the side and resolved, "That was stupid. Don't do it."

Surprise rippled through as her words beat down on him and that twisting bundle of feelings. She seized him by the shoulder and intoned, "Pay attention. Think...think...think. Saying it thrice. Listen to what is said and reflect on what is written. This isn't the safe ponds where you and Cestia played at being adventurers. If you screw up when it counts...you die. Even if you do all the right things, you could still die. Learn that now, or go home."

Kaye tightened his hands and his breath. He couldn't look at Suray. After this day, after all he'd waited through, this was what she said to him? An ember of indignation bounced around him until he let a slow breath go through his nose. No. They'd been here before.

It was something silly at the time, it always was. Some jerk a year older insulted him. No one else was around to hear but everyone noticed when he threw the first punch. He vented to Suray and, instead of agreeing it was an injustice, she asked him so many questions. His ears felt like fire.

It was the first time she reminded him to "think". To not simply react, to slow himself down, to be careful. He sulked and didn't want to talk to or think about her, but that just brought his thoughts closer to her presence.

After a self-twisting fury, his words finally came out to Suray. She laughed, which just made him pout even more. Laying out her hands, she counted out all the pain and suffering he had inflicted on himself when the boy in question didn't care. And he wasted so much time for nothing.

Listening to Suray, he still wanted to be mad, at least to be right in his grumbles, but he acknowledged what she meant. This was pointless and he had work, lessons, and games to be concerned about. The reminder returned to him and the tension sloughed off.

"I'll work on that. I want you to be proud of me." She flicked him in the forehead. As he held the sore spot with a frown, she urged, "These aren't lessons in the forest where you get a candy for remembering which monsters can walk on two legs. Dangers abound everywhere. And things..."

He squinted as she withheld her next words. Though he urged her to just say it, she took a step back and cautioned, "Rumors and portents. Never put much faith in them. But I can smell danger on the air. You watch yourself."

Begrudgingly, he agreed before segueing to, "So, what happens now that I have this?" He straightened the parchment.

"Your real work begins. You have no job class yet, no matter what you may have stated in registration or decided along the way. You must practice, train, and grow first. This makes you a Daring, a trainee or formal beginner. The road ahead of you is long even to gain admittance to the Kingdom."

He absorbed those words as he gazed around. Something like a park was set in the distance with clouds billowing out mechanically between the deep, cooing chirps of Taye Tayes he'd seen for the first time on this trek. So many wonderful and crazy things he'd seen for the first time with Cestia at his side. Till now.

Fighting to keep a hitch out of his voice, he asked as casually as he could manage, "Did Cestia clear the challenges?"

With folded arms, Suray leaned and posed, "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

He prepared to retort but a familiar laugh slipped through a blustery whistle of wind followed by swift bootsteps, as light as flipping through the pages of a book. Turning, he caught waves of dancing, sky-blue hair framed sharply against the clear sky. Leather, buckled gauntlets and gloves protected her arms.

She wore the traveling dress he'd seen her in earlier, but she'd added light armor which complimented her slim but toned figure. The bodice traced her chest, which Kaye had taken to noticing and trying to forget about countless times. This was Cestia, the little scamp who hauled him up great, twisting branches with a toothy grin. His childhood friend, the only one who stuck around as they got older. He met her eyes as she approached.

Cestia hustled. She didn't bother with words before seizing him as fervently as their mentor. With delighted cackles, she proclaimed, "You've got to see the train! And the guard castle! And the bridge! And the CATS! Did you tell him about the cats, Suray?" Suray just gave a quiet tilt of her head.

Before she could drag him off, he halted her to ask, "Why didn't...why aren't you in the castle? Did you flunk?"

The pokes he got from that were well-earned. "No way! I need a partner for the trials. And you're mine. Come on, King of Adventure! If we hustle, we can finish the first by nightfall!"