8-year-old Thomas of Thaxon was very aware of his father and his brothers’ hatred for him. He looked nothing like them with his black hair and silver eyes; it was nothing like his brothers’ brown hair and green eyes. For whatever reason, they never got along with Thomas nor did they try to. Although he didn’t mind. The only thing he ever cared for was his dear sister and becoming a knight.

All of Thomas’s older brothers refused to undergo knighthood for they thought it was a waste of time and would rather indulge themselves in alcohol and women. Thomas was nowhere near their age, they were all much older than him. Even his sister was 14 to his 8.

Thomas never bothered with his brothers. Every day before dawn, he would get up in search of a new quest or a soldier that he could ask to teach him new moves.

In the beginning, when he was around 4, most of the soldiers didn’t bother with Thomas. They never thought that he was serious about this knight conquest, but one such person took him in.

As the head of their soldiers in their small little town, Liam of Thaxon became something of a second father to Thomas. He taught him everything he thought the little boy could handle, and as he got better at fighting, Liam started to respect his dreams. With Liam’s respect, the other soldiers decided to teach him, and they slowly learned to respect him.

When he was 10, Liam finally lent Thomas his sword to practice techniques on. At this point, there wasn’t much that the soldiers hadn’t taught him, the only thing that needed improving, was his strength.

Thomas didn’t really need supervision anymore even though he was handling a sword. Liam trusted him, and so did the other soldiers.

A real metal sword in Thomas’s hands was much different than the wooden swords he had been given to practice with: they were heavier, and much harder to control. Nevertheless, Thomas continued to build a semblance of muscle in his arms until he could wield some simple moves with a real sword.

Every day, Thomas would practice as much as he could, and the only one other than the soldiers in his town that respected his aspirations was his sister. Kyra always thought he could do whatever he put his mind to, and often times, she would bring him lunch or supper to wherever he decided to practice.

One such day, Thomas had skipped out on breakfast and lunch was nearing, so Kyra came and found him working with one of his familiar soldier’s swords who were off duty.

“Thomas,” She said sternly. “You will never be able to become a knight like you wish if you do not eat your meals.”

Thomas grinned at her. “I know sister, but I’m just really trying to get this pattern down with the broadsword Halef lent me. I’ve almost got it!” He said referencing the soldier he had borrowed the sword from.

“Well you need to take a break, otherwise you won’t look nearly as strong as you would like to. Come eat your lunch.”

Kyra had always made up for the mother he had never had. She had ended up dying when he was 3 due to the sweating sickness that had gone around the country. He couldn’t really remember her, and when he tried, the only face that popped into view was his sister’s.

She was kind of like the bridge between him and his brothers. Although they couldn’t get along, she was fine either way, even if she disapproved of her other brothers’ ways.

Kyra had brought him sandwiches and an apple to replenish his strength. “So, what are you up to little bro?”

“You know,” He said around bites of food. “The usual training, I do every day. A bit of this, a bit of that. You know what Liam told me today?” He exclaimed his eyes lighting up.

“What?” She replied with great interest.

“He said that I might actually have a chance of becoming an early page next year. He expects that I’d be strong enough by then, even if I am a little smaller than the other boys.”

“That’s great Thomas!” She said. “Hopefully someone here will vouch for you to the king. We all know that Father won’t.”

“Yeah. I know, I’m hoping that some of the soldiers that have watched me previously will send a letter of recommendation.”

“At least one of them will. You are the strongest 10, eventually 11-year-old I know.” She ruffled his hair.

Thomas gobbled down the last of his food and got up. “I’ve got to be getting back to practice. Thanks for the food.” He said running for the tree he had been chopping at with the sword like Liam had taught him.