Caregivers - Prompt 2

B: In the peace of the pool, Damocles phases from the trials he has endured to the joys his growth brought him. The watching eyes bothered him little, a strange comfort of the caregivers putting him at ease. Through seeing himself so young and inexperienced, he felt a moment of bittersweetness at how old he’d become. I missed his youth and freedom, especially the early days of meeting Ichramus. The jarl was still a young lad when he first met Damocles and the two worked together to prove themselves to their guild superiors. It was with Ichramus that Damocles traversed the dark tunnels and gazed into the Eyes.
Their banter held a firm place in Damocles’ heart. Banter they’d exchanged before he’d left to the depths. Two different personalities to complement each other. His wandering thoughts were caught by the magical pool and he once more sunk under. Except this time, he was in his own body. Young and spry, but it was his own.
Damocles and Ichramus had only just returned from fending the town against a pack of beasts. The young man and his vayron both looking ruffled and spent, but still holding their heads high when the town flooded to meet them on their way back. Ichramus sat on Damocles’ back, a dirty spear in his hand, his not-yet grey hair falling ina few strands over his forehead. Damocles was donned in light leather tack, the sweat underneath his battered armor a tad uncomfortable, but apart from that he was well. The two were capable in a fight, and a force to be reckoned with when put together. United, their strength is sure to only rise with teamwork they’ve honed since their first ride together. Ichram trusted Damocles to take him where he needs to be, and Damocles counts on Ichram to be his eyes where he cannot see. Their mental connection blossomed early into their bond thanks to this quickly found trust.
“Well done you two!” One of the townsfolk spoke up, and the rest joined. Praise and thanks rained on the two of them from the people that relied on them for protection in this time of trouble.
Damocles glanced back at Ichram, who smiled back at him. Pride swelled in both their chests as the town followed them on their way to the jarl’s keep. At the door waited the man himself. Ichram’s father smiled and nodded approvingly at his son’s and his mount’s job well done.
“That was so bad at all,” Damocles spoke to Ichram through their mental connection.
“I could get used to this,” Ichram replied with a hint of smugness in his tone, but his Vayron nipped at him.
“Paragon of humility, you are.” Damocles jested and Ichram laughed aloud. “We should all follow in the example of Ichram the Great!”
“Oh, shut it you,” Ichram kicked Damocles’ side, and the vayron whipped his tail in return.
“Come, both of you,” the jarl called out, “Tell me all about your victory inside. I would know of the threat we have deterred today.” The jarl beckoned with a ringed hand before stepping inside his keep.
Ichram dismounted his vayron and gave some king replies to the townsfolk as they flocked to him. Many thanks and glad-you’re-wells were exchanged between the people and him. Despite his bit of smugness of his inheritance to become jarl, Ichram loved his people and wished them nothing but the best. It showed clear in his eyes as he spoke to them all. Finally, the jarl’s voice called out again, and Ichram was pulled away by Damocles. The young man headed inside, with Damocles following suit.
The feeling of pride was so deeply rooted from that day, that Damocles never quite let go of it. The act of protecting his people, and strengthening his bond with his rider became paramount to him in life. And since that day, he’d become the guarding pillar in the town, all throughout Jarl Ichram’s rule to present day. His place as guide in his guild was an additional responsibility given to him by the Keeper himself on his day of trial, further solidifying his place in Hjaalfing. The Vayron’s life was long, and there was plenty of time left still to carry out his duties, and see this journey to its end. Damocles’ determination stemmed from the request made by his friend, and to serve his guild. To them, he was eternally loyal.
The hooded caregivers watched his day of victory unfold from their mirrored pool. Damocles’ happiness, trust, pride, and sense of responsibility all laid bare for the Haedians to assess amongst themselves. What came from a rowdy young boy, and how he grew up into a responsible guardian and friend, to his older days, still serving his town in the rising events of present day.