Tommy woke up bright and early. He was ready to run, jump, and kick some ass.
Only to be given a broom.
"Look here, kid. You don't want to go to the orphanage, but we can't give you sharp weapons just yet. You can live in here, take the lessons with the rest, and then, when you turn 15, you will be trained with weapons."
Tommy blinked, even as he took the broom from the kind orc instructor.
Still, he didn't complain. He had to earn his keep. He knew that. Even as small as he was, he knew the value of hard work.
The small boy began to sweep the hallways as the other students were being trained in the art of archery and sword fighting, in the art of dagger play and dart throwing.
The boy swept, lingered by the big windows and looked down.
There was just one thing he could train with. They had said that he couldn't use sharp objects, but that didn't mean that he couldn't use a staff, now, did it?
Why give him a broom if that was the case?
The boy began to sweep with more gusto. He was training his arms. He was pushing past his limits. The hallways were beginning to look just a bit brighter.
Tommy was not finished. He didn't want to go back to the empty dorms.
He went to the small closet where the orc had given him the broom, filled a bucket with water, and then began to clean the stone floors.
He was learning how to be strong, he told himself. Even as his shoulders began to hurt, he kept on pushing.
Only to see feet before him. The boy looked up.
He was before the Guild Master's office.
The kind elf looked down at him. He was holding a cup with something that gave out a lovely chocolate scent.
"Did someone told you to clean the floors, my boy?" The elf asked. The boy shook his head. He really wanted the treat. Hoped that he had been good enough to earn it. "And you cleaned the entire guild by yourself? Was it that dirty?"
The boy cracked up a smile. The guild had been slightly dirty, but not so, as if a boy his age had to take care of it by himself.
"No, sir! I wanted to train!" The boy said, as he stood up. He was still holding the wet piece of cloth he had used to wipe the stone floors.
"You are a good boy. Now, wash your hands and you will get your quest reward!" The elf placed the cup with the cocoa milk on a windowsill. He pointed at a small fountain to the left. "And remember, my boy. It is not just the body that has to be trained. Use these five years wisely. Read a lot. Train a lot."
Tommy rushed off to the fountain, washing his hands in record speed. Soon, he was sipping from his reward, staring out of the window, and trying to memorize the fighting instructions the novices were getting outside.
Albert smiled, took the bucket and wash cloth into his office, just so the boy would go back to the dorms and rest, and then thought about the last rider the Shadow had.
A necromancer.
Something told him that little Tommy would not end up the commander of the undead. That he was going to be someone who would be at peace with himself.
Someone worth following.
But for now, he was just a boy who was enjoying cocoa milk. Just a ten-year-old boy.
Albert didn't want to burden him with his hopes yet.
****
Tommy looked at the closed office door. He wanted to return the cup, now that he had washed it.
He bit his bottom lip.
Would the Guild Master be angry at him if he disturbed him? Would he tell him to go back to the empty rooms?
Tommy balled his fists.
No! He couldn't shy away from returning a cup! He was couldn't to do something so silly!
The boy went and knocked on the solid oak door. The old elf pocked his nose out.
"I washed the cup, sir!" The boy would have saluted, had he not had a cup in his right hand.
"Good job! Now off you go back to the dorms," Tommy wilted at that. If he was forced to stay alone, he was going to think about his mother.
About how cold she had been when she had passed.
About how glassy her eyes were. About how she had not responded to his plea.
For she had died. For she couldn't hear anything anymore.
Until her spirit had risen.
"Here, have these books!" The old elf gave him a couple of heavy tomes, bonded together with a lovely leather binding. "And you will have extra points if you decipher what is on the binding!"
This was a test. Albert knew that the dragon riding families always had something to do with runes.
If Tommy was really the one, he claimed to be, then he would understand the runes on the book belt.
"Re… shui? Hot water!" Tommy said, as he took the books. It had been so long since he last saw runes.
They were expensive, after all.
Albert blinked. The boy had deciphered the runes so, as if he had studied them in school.
He smiled.
"Yes. This is a rune for hot water. Good job! You can use it to make tea when you wish!" Albert closed the door next. Leaving the small boy on the other side.
He activated the silencing rune and then did something no self-respecting Guild Master would have done.
He began to jump in joy.
Finally, a dragon rider who knew his runes! Finally, someone the Shadow was going to accept!
"Yes! Finally! The Djinni will run away."
For he had glimpsed the boy's spirit. He knew for a fact Tommy was going to fight the good fight.
That he wasn't going to use runes to raise the dead.
For he was in his guild. And Albert was going to do his best to nurture him.
Little did he know, the boy was not only a dragon rider…