The most important day of my life

So that you won't get confused, this is a Medieval Fantasy story, set in an alternate world, as told by young miss Ymber.

Chapter 1

My fifteenth nameday.

When I was only a baby, I rode up to the doors of castle Landilan on the back of a bay colt, swaddled and tied down tightly. No one knows of my parents, or who I am, and save from the horse himself, I have only one item to clue me in to my identity, a golden locket around my neck. But I cannot get it to open- there seems to be a keyhole in the side, but no one knows of any key.
There it sits around my neck to this day, unopened, teasing me. No one in the castle can identify the metal or the make, but I am not surprised. The province of Westernesse is not particularly large or known for it's scholars, and though Landilan is the head of the province, it also lacks anyone of particular knowledge.
The Baron Maximilian Gray took me in as one of the several wards of the castle, and ever since then, I have lived in these dormitories with the others. There is not much for the castle wards to do save help out, since we are not assigned until our fifteenth nameday.
Generally, we are given to one of the craftsmasters, be it the chef, the horse trainer, or even the battlemaster himself. To be fair, I have always hoped for the latter. I am very tall for my age, already six feet, though I am gangly and lacking in the womanly charms most girls my age have found. But I am swift as the prairie winds, supple as a reed, and surprisingly strong. In addition, I am ambidextrous, and for years now I have practiced in the courtyards, a stick in either hand, pretending to fight off imaginary enemies.
But when I am not doing that, I am in the stables. By all means, the colt I rode in on should be an old horse by now, but he is still in his prime, miraculously. He is a deep blood-red bay, with black stockings on his front legs, but mere socks on his back.
His name is Prince of Thunder, and it suits a majestic beast such as him. From the time I could toddle into the stables, I am the only one who he allows to lay a hand on him. He has the temper of the devil himself, and bites at all others, bucks off those who wish to ride him, and will trample any dog, cat, or wild beast unfortunate enough to be in range of his hooves. And yet, he is docile under my touch alone.
It would not be all bad, I suppose, to train horses for the rest of my days. I seem to have a talent for it. But still, swordcraft seems to come naturally to me.
Now as I await my fate, I wear a simple white dress that falls to my knees, a leather belt, a simple pair of sandals, and my locket. Over my shoulder is a satchel that holds everything else I own in the world, a pitifully small amount.
In front of me, two young men stand, each smiling.
Eli is the first. He is tall and lithe, with dark hair and a roguish grin. I can remember stealing cookies from the kitchen with his help when we were younger; he was another ward and is only a few years older than I. With those flashing green eyes and that smile, I know that I would have lots of fun training horses with him.
The second boy I am not so familiar with. He looks a few years older than Eli, perhaps twenty or so, near the end of his training. His name is Zachariah, and I recognize his features and name at the same time, realizing he is the baron's son. With that sandy blonde hair and intense brown eyes, I should have seen that earlier. He is from the battleschool, and seems to size me up, but to my relief, there is a look of approval on his face.
Both of them want me to follow them into my new life. But I do not know what I want.




((Now! Vote your choice, Horses or Battleschool, and after I get some opinions I'll make the next chapter.))

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