My first fanfiction. All reviews/comments are greatly appreciated! :)


The knight fell to the ground, winded.

Liam offered his hand. “Better luck next time.” He said as the knight took the outstretched hand and was pulled up. He looked battered, thought Liam, and sheathed his sword. The other knight stumbled over to some benches by the edge of the training and gratefully sank down next to another knight, who grinned.

“You really wear them out, Liam.”

Liam smiled, and walked to the benches, coming to a stop in front of the knight who had spoken.

“Do you want to have a go, Blayze?” he asked teasingly.

Blayze gave a playful snort. “And get beaten up by you? I think I’ll pass.”

Liam’s stomach growled. Unfortunately it was a few hours before lunchtime.

Blayze heard it, and stood. “Anyway, I’ve got a much better idea. Why don’t we take a detour to the kitchens instead?”


Laughing, Liam and Blayze rushed through the corridors, the angry shouts of the head cook fading behind them. They stopped at a corner, still giggling. Each had a chicken drumstick and a chunk of bread, which they quickly devoured.

At that moment a man was walking towards them, but they didn’t realize that until the man’s stern voice said “Stealing from the kitchens again, eh?”

Both young men whirled around instantly. “F-Father!” Blayze stammered.

Liam just swallowed. He was embarrassed to be caught by the king raiding the kitchens, and bowed his head. “My Lord.” He murmured.

He sneaked a sideways glance at Blayze, and almost choked on the sudden desperate desire to laugh. Instead he grinned.

Blayze was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, for once lost for words. It looked hilarious.

“Oh, stop that, Blayze. Don’t let me catch you two again!” Liam looked up to briefly glimpse a look of humour and mischief cross King Rowan’s face before the king walked on.

Blayze and Liam exchanged a glance where Liam saw his relief mirrored on his friend’s face. Then they burst out laughing again and set off for the armoury.

They reached the weapon stores after a long while of silence. As the two friends unbuckled their swords and helped each other take of their armour, there was more silence. Then Blayze stopped, and spoke.

“I’m going on a quest, Liam.” After a pause he continued “It’s to recover the Cup of Life.”

Liam had heard the story about that many times. About how the Prince of Camelot, now King Arthur Pendragon, had along with Emrys, had for some reason taken the Cup from the druids that had been doing a fine job of guarding it, and afterwards managed to lose the Cup to Morgana le Fay, nearly destroying Camelot in the process. Luckily, Emrys had had the foresight to forge an enchanted sword some time earlier, so they retook Camelot. But since then, the Cup of Life was lost.

This had of course had been told by some traders that had been passing through Brightcrest, the biggest city in Dyndenvar. The country was far from Camelot, so any news arriving there about Camelot would have already been retold many times, so it was likely that the truth had been lost along the way. Liam had been expecting some sort of recovery team to go look for it ever since the news had arrived in Dyndenvar, even though the chances that the story was true were slim.

“Is anyone going with you?” he asked casually, fiddling with the straps of his armour. He had already made up his mind.

“Yes, about a dozen men are coming with me. Why do you ask?”

Liam shrugged. “Already chosen them?”


Blayze looked closely at Liam. “No, you’re not coming with.”

Liam was about to argue when Blayze interrupted him. “No,” He said firmly.

“Anyway, it was my father who decided that. You can go argue with him if you like.”

It was clear to Liam that the decision was final, and he bit his lip in frustration. A chance to see what lay outside Dyndenvar, missed before he even had known of its existense.

Sensing his frustration, Blayze tried to comfort him. “Next time I’ll make sure you come with-” he began.

But Liam was already gone.


Angrily, Liam kicked the wall.

He had been on the edge of speaking to Blayze’s father, the king, who they had run into earlier that morning. But after debating his options Liam had decided it was not worth the risk of not joining the next quest. Now he was in his room, pacing back and forth.

He had magic, and was good at combat of all kinds. Why couldn’t he come along? Most of the knights didn’t have magic; he was one of the few who did. He was even nicknamed Magesword because of two reasons.

Blayze had made up the name some years back. Liam smiled at the memory. Walking over to a chest of drawers on one end of his room, he pulled open a drawer, and rummaged around in it until he had found what he was looking for; An old piece of parchment, with the word Magesword written on it.

The first reason he was nicknamed this, was because he, when he wasn’t practice fighting, fought using magic and a sword at the same time. The other reason was very simple. If you looked at the word in a certain way, you’d see, as Blayze, who’d written it down, had pointed out, that Mage was on the left side, while Sword was on the right, and Liam used the sword with his right hand while using magic with his left. Liam reflected upon this as he studied the frail paper, before putting it away again.

He lay down on his bed, wondering idly when the knights would depart. The answer came immediately in the form of shouts and the clopping of horse hooves coming from the courtyard below Liam’s open window. At the noise he jumped up and rushed to the window in time to see the white-cloaked knights on their horses departing from the castle, the sun embroidered on each of the white cloaks catching the sunlight and shimmering. Blayze was, of course, in the front, as he was leading the quest. Liam stared after them as they left, feeling a pricking in his eyes.

Someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” Liam called, miserable to the core. Only did he turn around when he recognized the voice all too well.

“Sir Liam.”

It was King Rowan.

“Yes, my Lord?” Liam spoke politly.

The king closed the door behind him, and walked over to Liam.

“I understand that you would have liked to have come with on that quest?”

Liam nodded.

“Why couldn’t I?” he blurted out, regretting the words even while he spoke them. “Sorry, sir-“ he broke of his apology as the king raised his hand.

“No need to apologize. You would have been one of the first I’d have chosen, but...” he faltered.

“But what? What is the problem, my Lord?”

The king’s words were starting to have an effect on Liam, who could feel anger rising up in him. When King Rowan didn’t continue, Liam exploded.

“Are you afraid of that I might find out who I am? Where I come from?” He forgot all the respectful words he was supposed to use when speaking to the king.

”No, of course not! What I mean is...” the king seemed to be searching for words.

“...what I mean is, is that-. I’m worried. About that the reason that you were left here is...dark. To protect you. I would feel like I’m breaking the trust and faith of whoever put you by the gates that night if anything happened to you.”

Liam could feel his cheeks burning with anger now.

“No, that’s not a good way to put it. How...?” The king mumbled to himself. Then he began again trying to explain, but Liam wasn’t listening anymore.

He had it with his guardian trying to explain time and time again why he couldn’t go outside Dyndenvar, which was a rather small country. If he was ever to find a proper explanation, he thought angrily, he would certainly not find it here in Dyndenvar, and not if he just sat there waiting for them to come to him. Back in the weapon stores he’d already promised himself he’d go, and he had no intention of breaking that promise. He would go, no matter what anyone said, he had to. Now was the chance. He could feel it.

Liam would have asked long ago to help him, go on their own quest, but Blayze was very much like his father in that aspect.

Despite for all of his friend’s good qualities, he would have never agreed with Liam, and Liam knew him well enough to be sure of that.

King Rowan was still talking, but Liam was deep in his thoughts, not paying any attention. He didn’t even notice when the king finally left.


Liam watched carefully and silently as the two guards passed him. When they were gone he let go of the breath he’d been holding, and slid out of the curtains. Checking that no one was in sight, he darted down the corridor, but he wasn’t heading for the stables.

There was something he had to do first.

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