Quirk - chapter one, first draft

Chapter 1: Two Young Men and What Happened Before They Left Home
Life is good when you fall asleep every night with a feeling of accomplishment.  It is even better when you wake up every morning feeling refreshed. For Quirk life on the farm was just that.  He loved the ins and outs of his daily routine.  He loved the smell of the dawn.  He loved the warmth of the sun on his back.  Most of all he loved the people that surrounded him.  This morning though, was different.  Quirk knew that this was to be the last day his heart would beat to his long loved routine.
         Today was a long time in the making.  Quirk had spoken of this finality with his family every day of his life.  In-fact the day had become so legendary that it felt surreal that it had even arrived.  It was here, and it was different. 
         The sun touched Quirk’s face.  He squinted and crinkled his nose.  He slowly opened his eyes and stretched a long stretch.  Quirk was not refreshed.  He had spent the whole night tossing, turning, and dreaming.  His body felt heavy, yet he found the strength to sit up.  He swung his feet over the edge of his bed and for the first time the floor felt cold, yet he found the endurance to walk.  He made his way to the kitchen where he found his family.  Sitting, staring.
         “Are you feeling well my son?” Charles asked.  This had been the first time in years that Quirk was late for breakfast.  “John finished your morning chores for you.”
         “Sure thing, I couldn’t wait to begin my last day of work on the farm.”  John was beaming.  He had been anticipating this day for a long time, but for different reasons than Quirk.
         “I’m fine.  I just overslept, that’s all,” He cracked a fake smile as he lied.  That smile was Quirk’s trade mark.  It was a beautiful trade mark at that.  Once, before Quirk’s mother died she told him that when the world felt like a dark place she could think of his smile and light would shine into the deepest of black.  Quirk continued, “Oh, thank you for finishing my chores John.”
         “That’s not a problem,” He began to smirk.  “I’m just happy to have a favor coming my way.”  Whenever John performed an action, he first thought of how it would benefit himself.  This was a trait he picked up from years of loneliness.  Sure, John always had Quirk, but he never had a family of his own.  John’s mother died shortly after giving birth to him and his father was killed in combat while she was still bearing child.  Her dying wish was for her dear husband’s best friend, Charles to take John in as his own.  Charles did just so.  John’s parental situation was never kept secret from him. Consequently John sometimes felt isolated. 
         “Are you hungry, boy?  Eat your fill,” on the contrary Charles was always thinking of others.  Charles was a modest farmer.  Modest in this case meant dirt poor but never hungry.  No matter what problems arose he always found the time to do what was best for the boys.  He began teaching them the way of the sword at a young age in hopes that they might one day become great knights.  Yes, his love for his son Quirk and Jason is what kept him going every day.
         “I am very hungry,” Quirk reacted quickly and rubbed his stomach.
         “Here you are my son.  How many would you like?”
         “Just one, but give me the big one.”
         John shifted in his flimsy chair.  “Do you think anyone will ever come up with another way to cook a potato?”  He picked one up to look it over, but dropped it immediately as it burned hus hand. 
         “You silly goose, there are tons of ways to cook a potato,” Quirk said laughingly.  “You know that.”
         “Yes indeed I do, but does Charles know this?”  John added.  The three gave up to laughter.  It had never occurred to Charles to make their meals any other way, but after that Charles never made that same potato. 
John shifted uneasily, “Charles, may I ask something of you?”
         “Anything my boy, you know that,” Charles approved.
         “It being our last day together and all, I was wondering if you would entertain a story,” John stated quizzically.
         “Absolutely, which tale should I tell?  How about the time I masqueraded as a woman in order to spy on the Paladorian army?  Or, maybe, the time I lost my clothes and…”
         Quirk ate quickly and quietly as he enjoyed their banter.
         “I was thinking more on the lines of the time that you and my father brought peace to our kingdom,” John interrupted proudly.
         “Oh yes, that is a good one,” Charles straightened in his chair, and cleared his throat.  “It makes me look good as well.  Where to start?  Oh, yes…
         “It was the last war that this land has seen, and boys, it was a doozey.  We had been fighting the Palidorian army for several weeks and it looked as if there was no end in sight.  You see, the Paladorian’s had an evil king in those days.  His name was Frederick.  He was a harsh man and was insensitive to his people.  He once had a man killed for saying hello.  Frederick claimed, ‘It was a waste of royal time, and royal time is priceless.’  The man was callous and he led his army by example.  Just imagine facing the most ruthless of people day after day.  An end had to come, and it had to come fast. 
         “The day of our victory was a damp one.  Did you know when the clothing under your armor gets wet it chafes worse that anything you can ever imagine?  Get ready for that, boys.  Anyway, our army marched forward to the great southern walls of the Paladorian castle.  Our entire army was present.  You should have heard it.  Five thousand men with their heads held high, calling out their adversary.  I wish I would have seen it.  John’s Father and I had to be at the same time in another place.
         “Edmond and I had a plan to end that war once and for all.  We were to find our way into the castle and strike a deal with Frederick.  So we did what every good knight would do.  We set out while it was still dusk.  To reach the northern side of the castle undetected we had to cut through the thick Paladorian swamps.  In order to keep pace we took deep meaningful steps.  By dawn we had reached our destination, exhausted, but we had to push through because our journey was only half over.
         “We waited for some time for our signal to be given.  Edmond was becoming impatient.  ‘We must go!’ he said to me.  ‘We have already missed our signal.  We are foolish if we stay here any longer!’
         “I replied, ‘Calm down Edmond, you know as well as I do that when the time is right our men will signal us.  Do not be impatient you will get what you came here for.’  At that instant an astounding battle cry was given.  It was our signal.  Our troops had picked up sword, and we had taken to flight. 
         “The battle to the south was to be a diversion for our two brave soles.  The diversion had worked.  Every Paladorian man who could lift a sword had indeed taken up arms and was protecting their beloved castle.  We simply slipped in the back door.  As we entered the massive building we found its hallways hallow.  Still, we traversed the echoing halls cautiously.  It took some time but we eventually found ourselves standing in front of the extravagant mahogany doors that lead to Frederick’s throne.
         “Edmond and I stood there quietly and shared a moment.  We looked at each other knowingly.  The end of that great was near at hand, at our hands.  We broke our thoughts and adjusted ourselves.  Together we stormed through the doors to make history.
         “What happened after that took us by surprise.  As the massive doors swung open with a crack we saw far across the room Frederick sitting alone on his throne eating grapes.  He looked up and saw us.  He did not startle.  He did not flinch.  He ate grapes.  Edmond and I approached his throne.  As we neared Frederick began to speak, ‘Sir Charles. Sir Edmond.  What a pleasant surprise.  What brings you to my humble abode?’ he asked in an ever so cocky tone.
         “‘Peace!’ I rang.
         “‘Peace?’ he questioned.  ‘I see no peace.  I see war, lots of it.’
         “‘We’ve come to take peace,’ Edmond said sternly.  ‘Our people have fought for too long a time, and too hard for no just cause.’
         “‘Paladorian expansion is not a just cause?  Who are your sources, young knight?’
         “I stood tall and replied, ‘The people of our kingdom are our sources.  You have pushed for much too long Frederick.  There will be no more fatherless boys in our kingdom.’
         “‘Oh I can think of two,’ as the harsh tones left his lips he stretched out his right hand and pointed at Edmond and me.  Out from behind two vast columns on either side of Frederick’s throne stepped to grand men with long sleek swords.  We readied for some action.  They ran toward us gracefully.  The two behemoths  reached us with two overhead blows from their long swords.  Their swords came to an abrupt stop as they clashed against our own. The four of us fought brilliantly for some time.  Around and around I grappled against my man.  I finally defeated my adversary after he took a gamble which left his back exposed to me.  Never leave your backs exposed boys.  You need to take care of me in my old age…  I turned to check on how Edmond was doing.
         “Edmond was fighting a fine fight.  The finest the world had ever known.  Right and left their swords danced.  The metal of their blades shone bright as it reflected the light from the torches that surrounded the room.  Then as if from a nightmare Edmond’s blade shattered into a million pieces as he blocked an oncoming attack.  Edmond did not give up.  He managed to ward off a few more attack with the butt of his blade, and then it happened. 
         “Neither Edmond nor I saw it coming.  Frederick, whom we had forgotten during our own fights, had done the unthinkable.  Being the coward he was, he saw that Edmond had been rendered unarmed, and took the opportunity to make his move.  Frederick swooped in behind Edmond and struck him clean through.  Edmond had been stabbed in the back, unarmed.
         “I found my self in a rage.  The very essence of my sole burned with the fury of a thousand furnaces.  I glided first to the man that Edmond had been dueling, and in one foul swoop I did him in.  I then turned my lust for revenge upon Frederick himself.  Frederick looked deep into my eyes and could only return fear to my stone cold glare.  Frederick realized he had stepped through thin ice.  He tried to flee, but his fear encompassed him.  He stumbled and found himself on the marble looking up at my grimacing eyes.  At this point he posed me no threat so I let him know just exactly what was on my mind, ‘I have not seen my home in weeks.  My son has been born and I have not yet seen him.  Now Edmond, whose child has yet to be born, will never set his eyes upon its beauty.  This war has gone on long enough Frederick, and you sure as morning will not see it‘s end.’  With that I put an end to the war by putting an end to Frederick.
         “Two young guards had heard the commotion and burst though the large doors behind me.  They found me sitting on the floor next to my cold, limp friend.  They saw a man welled with tears of joy, and sadness.  Noticing Frederick downed they ran off without uttering a word.  Word was immediately spread that Frederick had been killed and almost simultaneously the fighting ceased.  Boys, many people lose their lives at war.  They do it to protect their families, but all who fight for what is good, wish they weren‘t fighting.”  Charles had finished.
         John smiled, “Thank you Charles.  I love that story.”  John did love that story.  It helped him feel closer to his father whom he had never met.  John strived to live up to the Edmond of Charles’ story.               
         The three men sat happily at the table and enjoyed what would be their final breakfast together for some time.  They laughed about memories, and spoke seriously of the future.  The boys were ready for what lied ahead.
         The very next day Quirk and John were to be knighted, supposing they pass the final tests.  They were no longer to be squires.  They were no longer to live at home with Charles.  They were no longer to be part of this family.  They were about to: embark on new and exciting adventures, embark on new and more pressing responsibilities, and embark on life as men.  They were ready.
         Quirk was the first to stand up, and he did so swiftly while finishing a sentence.  He motioned at John to do the same.  John got up slowly and more deliberately.  The same way he did all things: precise and with perfection.  Quirk lived off of his toes.  He always worked on a hunch or a feeling.  These hunches proved to not be in vain, most of the time.  They worked together well, despite being on opposite ends of the personality spectrum.
         Leaving Charles at the table the two boys took a walk outside.  The sun shone bright and the birds sang.  The leaves were beginning to change and there was a nip in the air.  Quirk loved this time of year because it was never boring.  Something was always falling, or blowing.  Squirrels were always scurrying about to collect enough acorns to last them the winter.  The thing that excited Quirk the most was that this was the time of year that you first get to see your breath.  It always surprised Quirk the first time he would step outside to the bite of a cool morning and breathe a big puff of steam.  The long summers would always hide this joy from him, but the autumn would always reveal it again.
Quirk and John strolled down the slim trail that led out past their rickety hazel shed.  The wind blew a whirl wind of leaves around their legs.  A doe and two fauns, one a yearling and the other still showing his spots darted across the trail ahead of them.  They both delighted at this sight.  Suddenly the trail widened out and the dirt beneath their feet turned to plush grass.  The trees spread apart and reached skyward.  The large oaks formed what looked like a huge wall that only broke for their humble trail.  Quirk had been coming to this clearing everyday for as long as he could remember but it still caught him off guard how quickly the thick woods altered into this grassy nook.  It was here that they had spent all of their afternoons for as long as they can remember.  They would fence for hours on end, harnessing their swordsmanship.  John would impress Quirk with his unfailing fundamentals, whereas Quirk would outsmart John with his outstanding intellect and his famed “hunches”.
         Quirk was indeed an outstanding intellect.  Quirk could act on a whim and do so unfailingly.  He always saw what John didn’t, and sometimes that got under John’s skin.  Despite these words being true he was quite apprehensive about the days coming.  He wasn’t sure how his persona would mesh with the life of a knight.  “How do you think I will fare my Dear John?”
         “I believe I shall chop you down,” he said as he popped a practice sword (It was really just a piece of wood in the shape of a sword) into the air with his left foot and snipped it out of the air with a hand that didn’t have to move.
         “Not presently John.  I mean in the grand scheme of things.  Do you think I will be a great knight or will I just be a five letter word that follows your name in the historic writings?”
         After John had finished counting the letters in each of their names he answered, “What in the heavens above would ever make you think in such a way.  You will make a great knight.  You will lead up your own book in the historic writings.  In all reality it is I who will become a footnote in your book.  True I am a steady hand, but it is your steady head that will win our kingdom glory.”
         Quirk couldn’t help but smile.  “You seriously don’t think my imagination isn’t going to get me into trouble?”
         “I never said that.  Your imagination always seems to get the best of you.  Let’s just face it, that brain of yours cycles more than Old Man Tibb’s flour mill.  What I am saying is you are heady enough to get yourself out of any trying situation that you face, whether you create it or not.”  With that John began to pace counterclockwise around Quirk dragging the tip of the practice sword in the dirt behind him.  Quirk smiled and said, “Didn’t you get enough yesterday?”
         “What is enough?” John questioned.
         “Enough is the point of no return.  The point in which one shouts, ‘It’s been too much.  I can’t take it anymore.  My palms are sweat ridden and my trousers soiled!’  I believe you experienced ‘enough’ yesterday.”
         “Yesterday was a fluke,” John said begrudgingly.
         “Squire tell me, what is a fluke?” Quirk decided to play John’s little game.
         “A fluke is a fluke, and watch your mouth calling me a Squire.”                   
         “Incorrect, I reward you pity for trying, but a fluke is something that happens for no reason, something that goes beyond being repeated.  Something so unimaginably great it leaves you saying, ‘Wow that was something really great.’  And why not call you a Squire?  That is what you are, is it not?”  Quirk didn’t mind being literal once in a while.
         “Only for today,” he rose and shouted, “Be on your guard!”  John took to flight at Quirk.  Quirk, who knew this was coming from the onslaught, took to defense.  The two fought brilliantly for sometime.  Back and forth they went, under the trees that dropped orange and yellow leaves over the plush grass that sprung as they shifted from foot to foot.  The mastery was finally brought to an end when Quirk, who had grown bored of the mundane engagement, tried something cute.  It was at that point that his “practice sword was knocked from his grasp.  “What do you have to say for yourself now my empty-handed friend?”
         “That, John, was a fluke.”  Quirk cracked a whimsical smile at John, and they both gave way in merriment.
         The two still lay laughing when there came an interruption from off in the distance.  There stood about fifty feet away at the base of a giant oak tree a girl.  In-fact she was the fairest girl in all the land.  She was also the funniest, the smartest, the cleanest (which meant a lot in that day and age), the most up to date on the all the latest fashions (she always had the next seasons shade of brown before anyone in the kingdom), she could spin a spool of thread (prick her finger and not fall asleep mind you), and she could make a very desirable potato (it doesn’t sound like much but you can only do so much with a potato).  She waved her hand motioning for someone to draw near to her.
         “Your lady is a calling.”
         “Pardon me my friend,” with that John stood up and dusted off his pants.  He took the short trip to the girl at the base of the tree.  “Why do you call Marguerite?”
         “It is tomorrow that you become a knight,” she said with a tear in her eye.
         “Yes, that is true.  What is bothering you my dear?”
         “Tomorrow you begin your new life, the life of a knight, the life of fair maidens that come and go as a leaf in the wind, the life of slaying dragons, the life of excitement, and the life of danger.  A life that has no room in it for me...”  She began to sob.
         “What...”she began to sob louder.  “What do you...” and louder.  This began to annoy John.  He gently reached out and squeezing her lips together until she resembled a duck and he said, “I’m going to talk now.  I want you to listen.  What I have to say will not sadden your heart.  In-fact your heart may happen to rejoice.  So, can you just be quite for one blubbering minute?  You sounded very reminiscent of a bull frog.  My head hurts right between the eyes...”  At this point she had stopped crying completely and was more worried about when he was going to release her lips.          
         He did just so, and began to pace back and forth.  “I don’t know how to say this.  So for the benefit of both you and I, I will just say it.  It will be for the best if I just say it.”   
         “John,” she said politely.
         “Yes, Marguerite?”
         “Just say it.”
         “Yes, of course.  Marguerite I love you.  There is no one else on this square that we call earth that could take my heart the way that you have.  There is no one else that could make a potato more desirable than you.”                    
         “That is exactly what I tried to tell my father.”
         “You told your father I like your potatoes?” John’s eyes glassed over in confusion.
         “No, just listen…  My father said, ‘That boy is good for nothing and is doing nothing good.  We all know the life of a knight in this day and age is one of debauchery and lady loving.  No knight in this world will hurt my fair little lady.’  John, he is sending me to the nunnery so that you can’t hurt me.”
         “What, that’s preposterous.  There is no such debauchery amongst the knights, and you know I could never hurt you.”
         “I know John.  I fought him.  I fought him on this, you have to believe me.”  She paused and began to cry.  “I love you John, but I have no choice.”  With that she ran down the narrow break in the wall and never looked back.
         John began to yell something but nothing came out.  It was as if the sadness had taken his words.  It had reached deep into his heart and rendered his feelings inexplicable.  His legs gave out from under him.  He sat under the oak tree without expression.  Bits of orange, yellow, and red danced around him.  He could do nothing but stare.
         Quirk looked on.  He wondered when would be a good time to console his friend.  Quirk was never good in situations such as this.  His charming intellect always seemed stale at a time of mourning.  He bit his bottom lip and advanced toward his friend.  As he drew closer John began to stand up.  Quirk didn’t know if this was a good sign.  John had been sitting motionless for about four minutes so Quirk figured any change was good.  He pressed on.  As he approached him, John began to speak.
         “Quirk she’s gone.  She’s gone and I am leaving.  We do love each other.  We love each other to the ends and to the beginning.”  He looked over at Quirk and flashed a toothy smile.  “That is why I must never give up hope.”
         Quirk was speechless.  It was as if all of the confusion in the world reached into Quirk’s mouth and held his tongue.  Despite all of the problems in John’s life he always seemed to hold it together quite well.  Of course Marguerite had always been there to help John.  Through thick and thin she was the bond that tied John’s heart in knots.  He had no idea his friend alone could stand this strong. “You are wrong John.”
         “Excuse me,” John was just as puzzled as you are now.
         “It is your strength and ability to love others that will get you into the historic writings.”