Editing Kulmorost Divided (section)

====Of Lemons and Wings====
Uncle had spoken to father first when he arrived back and then to us both, he spoke about bloodlines, the time before the Exodus, our ancestors, how Lucius Latrosia became the lord of our house while his father held the hills in the south. How the had built the walls we live behind while the other Great lords fled further and further north, things l'd known since birth.

Then he spoke of where he had been, about how he had brokered a trade between himself and a hill troll he was on good terms with months ago. "The deal was simple enough. l would receive the sword he had found on his land and in return he wanted a cloak like mine, a red one to impress a female troll, oh and one of those woolly rhinos to munch on" he laughs and goes on to explained how he had traveled to frostfrontier, spending a great deal of silver to have a huge cloak woven from rhino wool. And then onto the pirate lords

The pirates wouldn't be so easily bartered with, They'd demand a high price for the expensive dye and the lemon trees that grow behind our walls are an important commodity to our great neighbors. "They wanted half of our lemon harvest for a year, l got them to a quarter. A good a deal as we'd get from those bastards most likely" 

He spoke of the arrangement's he'd made in the north and that l am to go with him in two weeks time to the Cathedral. "it was time l learned to be Valkyrie" he told me "our blood is as important now as ever" 

So l leave my home on the neck soon enough, the comfort of my family and our fort. 

But l am blood of Latrosia, and l would be a winged knight of Valkyrie soon enough

Journal entry - Magnus A. Latrosia IV, age 15

It has been some time since my last entry, the journey was long and arduous and its only now l feel l should write once more

We passed through the winding gates up to the Cathedral. Seven gates l counted, though it may have been more. Steel and stone is what greeted us and l miss the sweet smelling trees of my family home now more than ever. We were welcomed inside the great hall by one of the elder members. We spoke for a time of the journey, the current state of the land and the elder asked if my Uncles mission was successful, this is when l was ushered to my sleeping quarters. 

It was 3 weeks later when l saw my uncle next, he had been on "important business" he said. He asked how it had been for me this past month, l told him the truth "Its cold here, the men even colder, l'm sick of carrying wood through those damn gates.... But l am well fed and my training in the sword is going well" he seemed glad to hear it. After a small meal and a pint of mead my uncle told me to follow close and to keep quiet. He lead me to a part of the cathedral l had never stepped foot in, the room was small and dark, books and scrolls littered the shelves, a whetstone and two bowls sat on the floor and next to them two prisoners lay on the floor, hands in chains, mouths filled with rope. l could tell what they were, one an Elf, the other a Dwarf. By the look of there close l concluded they had been traders, captured by pirates no doubt, l would learn soon enough why they had been bought to our most sacred of temples

The Elder that had welcomed me here entered soon after l had and l recognized the sword he was carrying was the same my uncle had bartered for with the troll. "Prepare the ritual" the Elder said to Uncle, gesturing towards the prisoners. Uncle drew his knife, making a slit on both the prisoners arms and collecting the blood in one of the bowls. "Hold out your sword hand boy" uncle commanded. he sliced my palm before

Collecting my blood in the same bowl. 

The Elder drew the blade, inspecting it for a moment before sitting down by the whetstone. l could barely see the blade in the dark room, it was covered in dirt and what must have been centuries old blood. 

The Elder wet the blade with the collected blood and honed it on the stone. It was only minutes later that the blade was as new. The inscriptions etched to the blade gleamed in the lamps dull glow. The Elder cleaned the sword and beckoned to me, handing me the blade. The blade felt strange to me, it was warm in my hand, familiar, almost comforting, like holding mothers hand as a boy. The Elder and my Uncle shared a look and then pointed me toward to the prisoners. 

l took the Dwarfs head first, then the elves as the runes on the sword began to glow a dull orange, my heartbeat grew heavy in my ears and the world slowed to a crawl. After some time the Elder took the blade from me and sheathed it, l have not seen it since.

The sword calls to me now and l long to have it back.

l am blood of Latrosia and l shall be a knight of Valkyrie soon enough

Journal Entry - Magnus A. Latrosia IV, age 16