Trials of Passage

The elven bloodline is one of purity and regulation. To outsiders, the elven kind are known as self-righteous and prideful, but in rebuttal, the elves also believe that outsiders lack discipline and moral fortitude. The people of the elven nation of Quvinost were no different, and were even considered among their cousins as a regimented, militaristic clan who found more beauty in combat than in the nature around them. Among this nation, the children of the royal families were required by law to elect a son from each family at the age of ten to represent their name, signet and stature in Qushu army. This was an incredible responsibility for the child elected, but was law and therefore was mandatory. In the family of Vykdal, Avyradolm was selected. Avyradolm was an anxious and scrupulous child. The oldest of his siblings, he was forced to age quickly in order to prepare for the life of a soldier. His father was a renown general who was also known more for his strict and often unorthodox methods of training. For instances, the trials of inception into the Army only required the child to be proficient with two weapons, but Avyradolms father required him to be familiar with every weapon, often forcing Avyradolm to spend sleepless nights training until his father found some satisfaction in his actions. This lifestyle began for Avyradolm when he was old enough to hold a sword. The harshness of his fathers expectation left Avyradolm lonely, lacking friends or community. He was quiet, reserved and often distant, even when in company of other children. During the morning hours, Avyradolm was taught to think in military tactics, routines and to always question those around you. Six years had passed since the first day of training, and Avyradolm had grown into a finely tuned soldier. The trials were upon the families, and Avyradolm stepped forward with quivering hands, shivering at the noise and attention. As he approached the entrance to the Halls of War, his father stood at the gates in legendary battle armor that shone with brilliance of unquenchable fire. Avyradolm felt his body stiffen as he stepped closer to the gates, deeper into his fathers gaze. Standing at the gates, his father looked at him with swirling blue eyes that were stern and aged, hardened by war. Avyradolm bowed his head, in respect, in fear. At that moment, a firm grip almost seemed to crush Avyradolms shoulder, and another hand lifted his head gently to meet his fathers eyes. Their eyes locked, and Avyradolm saw the stiff, emotionless face of father ease into a soft, subtle smile which quickly fell from his face to give way to these words that still ring in Avyradoms ears today: Listen to your heart, my boy, for that is your strongest weapon. With those words, the horns blared and Avyradolm was thrown into the trials of passage.