Rogue Razor

Admittedly, Hadwyn began having second thoughts as he was in the building. He had slept that night in the alley again, and he had decided that it would be his last night there. The wind whistled through the empty window frames.

There were dozens of chairs, but he was the only one who was actually there, besides the cleck, who sat silently near the counter. It had an eerie feeling to it, but he neglected this emotion for the time being.

After almost an hour of waiting. His name was called by the clerk, who never introduced themselves. He was ushered to a seat and given a long document.

“Do you want your sheets to be in Standard, Aetlan, or Zyenurian format?”

“What?”

Hadwyn ended up choosing standard. He didn’t know how it would impact the recruitment, but he decided that standard would have had to have been the safest option.

Then the man left the small room and locked the door. The only decoration in the bland room was the mirror on the wall in front of Hadwyn. He checked his reflection several times before focusing on the paper.

The paper was thick enough to stop an arrow. Dozens of sheets stacked neatly, held together only by two metal pincers on the left side of the paper. Hadwyn had never seen such a big document before. Not in any guild, did he ever see such a copious amount of material.

He flipped to the second page, since the first had been blank, besides the AFHA logo on the front.

Are you Aldarian?

Yes

No

Not sure

Hadwyn knew he was Aldarian.

If you selected yes, what generation are you?

First.

Second

Third or more

Hadwyn chose A.

What is your age? (Enter in blanks below)

______

Hadwyn entered 19.

What is your gender?

Male

Female

Intersex

Not sure

Hadwyn scoffed at the question. What kind of person didn’t know if they were a man or woman? Also, Hadwyn didn’t really know what intersex meant. He assumed it was the official term for someone who was both genders. Although he didn't know anyone who was, there were many species of humanoids who probably were. He circled A.

What is your nation of origin? What nationality do you currently pledge your allegiance to? (Answer in the free space below.)

Hadwyn answered that he was summoned in the ocean, and that he alleged to Graunvilk.

The questionnaire went on along these lines for some time. Hadwyn answered them to the best of his abilities. Most of them were basic questions, like mathematics, tactical maneuvers, and history related subjects. But there were a few questions that Hadwyn didn’t understand. Like:

“Are you aware of the project To the Heavens?”

“Are you educated on the Versurdi-Elven dispute?”

“Do you know what illness S.D stands for?” (write “no” if you do not know.)

The last one was open ended. It was also the final question. Hadwyn wrote no in big bold strokes. He left the pen on the plate. And got up.

The man returned to the room to collect the papers from Hadwyn. He informed Hadwyn that he would be returning to inform Hadwyn if he had fulfilled their requirements after he reviewed the documents.

After what seemed like another lengthy amount of time, Hadwyn was called into yet another room.

The room was darker than the other one, its windows covered.

Peter leaned against the wall. He eyed Hadwyn as he entered.

There were bags of weird structural design on the table in front. They appeared to have been neatly stitched. Hadwyn had only seen such craftsmanship with luxury items. One was long and shaped like a cylinder, pretty obviously intended for general storage. There was a tool belt and a long, rigid sleeve.

“Good morning.” Peter addressed.

“This means I passed, right?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Passed? Did you want to get a good grade?”

“I-I”

It was pretty obvious that there were no real grades, but the question the Hadwyn asked was referring to whether or not he was accepted.

Peter, as if reading his mind, “Yes, you met our requirements.”

“Does that mean you can tell me stuff now?”

Peter blinked. “For heaven’s sake! You haven't even picked up your items, and you’re already asking about that?” He grumbled, jerking his finger over to the bags. “Get your bags.”

“But what about-”

“I'm not asking you.” There was a serious and commanding tone to his voice. “Get your bags, now.”

Hadwyn moved forward. The first bag he grabbed was the tube-shaped one. He set it down immediately, after realizing it was empty. He moved for the long, stick-shaped one. Inside was a baton.

Hadwyn felt the weight of it in his palm. But almost dropped it when startled by Peter. “Hey!” He clapped his hands twice, “You can play with that later, get your other bags and go home to pack.”

Hadwyn holstered the baton and put it in the tubular bag. He didn’t feel the weight of the bag increase.

“What the…”

Then he realized; the bag used liminal magic.

“Yes, I know it’s awesome. But you need to get home.”

“I don’t have a home.”

“You don’t… Have a home…?” Peter squinted in confusion. “Where have you lived then?”

Hadwyn explained Ike’s mansion and a disgusted look spread across Peter's face.

“Right… That place…” He muttered. He refocused on Hadwyn. “Where’s your stuff then?”

“Back in the alley.”

“Go there and get it then!”

“In two feet of snow?”

Both men stood looking at each other for a moment, but eventually Peter broke the silence.

“Do you want me to drive you there?”

“Yes.”

The lot behind the building contained a lot of different carriages, trailers, carts and stagecoaches. Peter chose a relatively modest-looking carriage and attached the reins. Soon they were off into the snow.

It took longer than expected to find Hadwyn’s alleyway, due to the snow making them all look similar. And Hadwyn identified it by the cracks in the road near it. But there were no cracks to see in the snow. Hadwyn eventually found what he was very sure was the area. But he was met with an unlucky discovery.

“Where’s my stuff!?” Hadwyn said angrily. He had been provided gloves by Peter on the way there and was desperately clawing at the snow. “Where is it?” He cursed.

“What’s taking you so long?” Peter asked, approaching in the alley, “I'm on the clock right now, the both of us are.”

“My stuff’s missing- Someone took my stuff!”

Peter grimaced. He stroked his chin in mild frustration.

“Oh yeah, what did you have?”

Hadwyn hesitated. It wasn't like Peter was going to suddenly know where his items were, or start looking for a lost pet if Hadwyn described them, it also seemed just as unlikely that Peter would buy him spares. Hadwyn was already leaning on the man’s bad side, so he didn’t want to take even a single step.

“My clothes, uhh… My books…. A-a Journal”

Yeah, what did you write in it?”

Hadwyn tensed. “Uhh… I dunno, a few entries?”

“On what?”

“On uhh Fyrexias…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, there was a lot of blank info on them, so I did some research and wrote my findings.”

“Did you publish them?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good, you can probably buy an Almanac, or some sort of bestiary. I wouldn’t be too worried about it.”

Hadwyn wasn’t worried. He was frustrated. He was frustrated because there were thing in that book that he didn’t publish. And the journal has also acted essentially as his diary, which meant all of his thoughts he had written vanished. Hadwyn felt a large amount of loss, because the journal had been with him for several years.

But Hadwyn didn’t say any of that to Peter, instead he nodded.

“And my sword is also gone.”

“Alight, what were the enchantments?”

“None.”

“Uhh, any modifications?”

“N-no.”

He scratched his head. “How many levels do you have on it?”

“Two.”

“Two? Gods below and above, was it a ceremonial piece?!” He asked in disbelief.

Hadwyn sighed. He was just given an out, and he was taking it.

“Y-yeah. It was, like, one of those… claymore things.”

Peter scratched his nose. “I’m sure you miss it so.” To Hadwyn's surprise, Peter produced a pouch of coins from his pockets.

“Here’s your only upfront payment. Spend it wisely. We don’t have any more time to shop here, because of how much of my time you wasted. For god’s sake, we’re already behind schedule!”

He pointed his finger back to the carriage. “Get in the carriage and make yourself comfortable. We’re heading northeast.”

Aetlen territory, he thought.

So Hadwyn settled for the long trip ahead. And he clutched the only things he had to his name.

He was leaving home. No… not home. He never felt at home here, or anywhere here. He always felt like an outcast…

But now he actually was one.