"Alright, remember what I told you; the customer is always right, even if they're wrong." His father said, ruffling his hair before leaving.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say Father." Theron said, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to watch his father's stall while he went off to gather some supplies.

"I mean it, son. Don't cause trouble while I'm away, you hear? We're elves. We don't get nice treatment as it is." His father gave a stern look that made him submit.

"Okay, okay fine. I'll do it just the way you taught me." Theron pouted, posting up on the wobbly stool behind all the handcrafted items that were on display. His father smiled and left without another word.

Theron had better plans for today than watching their rundown stall. Why did his father keep running it anyway? It's breaking down, nobody really comes to buy the items, and it's just overall boring. He sighed, watching the kingdom folk walk by without a glance. Elves running errands, the humans doing their humanly things, and even the slave trader tugging the chains on his wares. A wolf beastman looking a few years older than Theron, glanced over at him from the back of the chain and smiled.
That's one strange slave.

Theron played with the pendant around his neck. His mother gifted it to him before her untimely passing. It's a green gem with a tree displayed in the middle made of a foreign, iridescent metal. Even after the countless times he's asked his father, he's never learned the meaning behind it.
Playing with it brought him back to the times his mother would recite bedtime tales as he would sleep. She was beautiful. He got his bright green eyes and sandy blonde hair from her. He was lost in his memories as usual.

The clanking of metal snapped him back to the stall. A tower of a man stood there, peering down at Theron with a smug look on his face. He was a knight doing his daily patrol. He looked at the sign with the prices and scuffed.

"You must be pulling my leg if you think I'm going to pay that for a piece of filth such as these." The knight picked up the expensive pair of elven leather boots they had out and inspected them. "I can pick up better stuff from a goblin corpse." He said with a laugh and dropped them back onto the table. One of them bounced off the stall and onto the dusty ground.

Theron went to open his mouth to speak up, but his father's teachings echoed in his head. He swallowed the words and just smiled, walking around the stall and dusted off the boot and placing it back where it belonged.
"Thank you for stopping by and taking a look at our wares. Visit soon!" He clicked his tongue under his breath. He didn't like having to be nice to people like that, especially those who disrespect his father's hard work.

The knight spun on his heel and marched back, grabbing the same pair of boots, "You know what? I'll take these off your hands because I'm in a good mood today." He pulled out a small pouch and dug around in it, picking out a few bits and tossing them in the air before catching them and slapping them onto the table. "You're lucky I'm paying this much, elf." He began to walk away. He placed down five copper bits, not nearly enough to cover the cost of the material.

"Hey excuse me, but I think you left a few bits in your pouch."
Theron wasn't about to let his father's hard work go so cheaply. Those boots were easily one silver royal, which was about fifty bits more than the knight had paid. His father spent days and nights crafting them into their shape; threading every stitch, polishing every bit of leather and finally molding it into the final product that lay before them.

The knight glanced back with a disgusted look, "What was that, pointy ears?" His heavy footsteps marched him back over. "I am Calvis, one of the King's personal knights! I report to him directly, how generous do you think he'll be to someone of your," he gave Theron a disgraced look, glancing at his ragged clothing and his pointy ears, "kind."
He grabbed Theron by the collar of his tunic and lifted him up with one hand. Theron squirmed and grabbed at the knight's arm, not getting anywhere as it was covered in chainmail.

"Hey, let me go!" He shouted, kicking and trying to pry the hand from his collar. Passerby's just looked with blank faces, some even looked to the ground and continued walking. Nobody wanted to help an elf boy who was being harassed by a knight. Elves were seen as less than dirt, beneath everyone's feet. If anyone tried to intervene, they'd be punished as well. So they stuck to themselves.

"You're lucky I don't take those point ears of yours right now and add them to my collection just for charging me a ridiculous price for useless items!" Calvis shook him as he shouted. Theron spit in Calvis' face, making him flinch before throwing the small elf back into the dirt. The impact knocked the wind out of him and he sat there gasping for air.

"You piece of filth! You pointy ears don't know just how good you have it here in the kingdom. I guess you need to be reminded on your place here, cretin." Calvis unsheathed his blade that hung off his hip. It rang out as it came free, reflecting light off its perfectly polished surface.
Theron couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of such a perfect blade. He instinctively grabbed at his chest, making sure his pendant was there. With a soft sigh of relief, he felt it still intact under his shirt.

For his whole life, Theron just wanted to be someone people admired. He wanted people see past his pointy ears and pale skin, past who he was on the outside and accept him for who he wanted to be on the inside. As much as he didn't like the people of this kingdom, he still wanted to protect them, go down in legends as one of the best knights; to be a hero.

It's all dreams though.

Nobody would respect an elf. They are a race to be ruled over by a stronger, more dominant race, such as the humans.

The glistening light on the blade shifted, snapping Theron out of his daydream. Calvis had began an overhead arc. Theron jumped to the side, barely dodging the sword meant to kill him. Before he could regain his footing, however, a sharp jab entered his chest, realizing that Calvis had lunged forward and jabbed him with his fist. The momentum once again knocked the air from his lungs and sent him flying into his father's stall, crumpling it under his weight. Between the pain in his chest and the dust from the stall hitting the ground, Theron spotted one of the support poles that held the stall upright. He grabbed it and got to his feet, adjusting his footing and his body, taking on a stance that made Calvis pause.
He watched the knights practice before, paying close attention to their movements and then would run off to practice what he learned.

"What's this? An elf who thinks he's a knight?" Calvis bellowed a deep laugh, "This just keeps getting better and better! You've picked up a weapon and planned to use it against me. I now have a valid reason to cut you down where you stand!" He thrust his sword forward in a straight jab, but Theron had seen this done many times while spying on the knight's training. Quickly, as if his body had it rehearsed, the pole parried the blade, protecting him at least this time.

"That was pure luck, you won't get that lucky again." Even more annoyed now, Calvis grunted in frustration. "I'm going to make your end a quick one, I promise." He swung his hefty blade from the left this time as Theron went to block again.

This was much harder than it looks, he thought to himself. The knights made it look so easy in their armor and dull swords. But this was real. Calvis' blade was sharp, and he was attacking with the intent to kill. He was fighting for his life against a trained knight of the kingdom with only a stick from his father's broken stall. As the sword made contact, it easily sliced through the makeshift wooden sword Theron had, cutting it in half.

"This went on a bit too long for my liking, but this is as far as you go." Calvis lunged forward with the swipe that was going to take Theron's life; the very life that flashed before his eyes. Theron shut his eyes tightly, accepting this was how he left this wretched world.

I'm sorry father...

"Enough!" A sharp, loud voice made everything freeze. The blade stopped just a few hairs from the flesh of Theron's neck. A man, dressed in the finest attire Theron has ever seen, walked over. His clothes were red and gold, stitched with gold thread and a priceless crown sat atop his head. It was the King, the very soul of this kingdom.

Calvis drew back his sword and placed a hand on his chest with a slight bow, "My Lord, I didn't know you were there."

"What is the meaning of this, Calvis?" The King walked forward, followed by three heavily armed guards; the King's Royal Guard.

"My Lord, this elf disrespected my honor as a knight, spat in my face, and attacked me!" Calvis' whole manner changed when the King arrived, even though he spoke lies. Well, except the spit part, that part was true. "He should be punished and sentenced to death, and I shall carry out his execution on your behalf, Sire." Calvis readied his sword as if the King already said yes.

"Now wait just a moment," The King turned to Theron. "Is what he saying true?"

Theron was stunned. The King was talking to him. He had never thought this day would come, it's an honor to even witness the King.
"Y-yes, I mean no. Not all of it. He started it! My father worked hard on everything." He glanced back at the pile that used to be his father's stall.
"He tried taking our boots for dirt cheap. My father makes these with blood, sweat and tears to provide for us. Shouldn't his hard work be worth more than dirt?" Theron then realized how he was speaking to the King. His eyes widened and he bowed his head, "my apologies, I didn't mean any disrespect."

"See my Lord? This little rat has no respect for the Crown. How dare you speak to the King in such a tone of voice-!"

"Silence!" The King snapped his fingers and for a brief second, a small flame sparked to life on the ground between Calvis and Theron, halting his advance.

The sudden flame startled him. There was nothing on the ground that could've caused that, so that leaves only one thing.

Magic.

 "You are free to go, Calvis."

"But my Lord-" He tried to interject.

The King glared at him, stopping him in his thoughts. Calvis then sheathed his blade and huffed an agitated sigh. "Yes, my Lord, as you wish." And with that, Calvis marched by, glaring at Theron as he went.

"My apologies, he's got a temper on him." The King said, turning back with a soft smile.

Theron stood there with his mouth agape, "That was magic, wasn't it?!" He has never seen magic before, he's only heard about it in the tales his mother use to recite before bed.

"Indeed it was, you have a keen eye. Tell me, what is your name brave elf?" The King knelt in the dirt to place a hand on Theron's shoulder.

"Theron, your majesty." He gulped, waiting to be shamed for his ears.

"That's quite the name, it suits you." The King turned his head, seeing a pair of now dusty leather boots. He made his way over and picked them up, dusting them with his robe. "So your father made these? These are good quality, true Elven craftsmanship! Fit for a King like myself!" He smiled, digging into his pocket, "here, this should cover the cost of them and the repairs to your stall." A small silk pouch hung from his fingertips, waiting for Theron to take it.

"I couldn't, Your Majesty! None of that was your fault-" Theron was stopped by the King's unblinking stare.

"Calvis is under my rule so his actions are my responsibility. Besides, I really like these boots." The King said, holding them up in the light, admiring the detail.

Theron reluctantly took the pouch. He pulled on the fine woven strings that sealed it and peered inside. His eyes widened when the sunlight reflected off what was inside. Inside this tiny bag was fifteen Gold Crowns. Just one Crown was over ten times the price of the boots.
"Sire, this is too much... you could spend this and get yourself some good Dwarven metal boots, or even a new sword from the best blacksmith!"

The King looked down and sighed. "Theron, you're right. I could use it to buy the things everyone would admire. However, those things have been replicated time and time again, with the same design and less imagination. These that your father crafted are one of a kind, I don't think even he could make these exact ones again." He ruffled Theron's hair. "It's hard work that gives things their value. Not the material, not the price, and certainly not the race they were crafted by."

Theron's eyes got misty. For the first time in his life, someone else besides an elf recognized that he and his father were more than just pointy ears and servants. This is why he is the King.

"Now, about that fighting stance you took. It was a style mostly used by my knights, correct? How did you learn about it?" The King had a curious look on his face. Theron had no choice but to tell him how.

"I sometimes watch the knights train, my Lord. There's a break in the stone wall surrounding the training grounds that is the perfect size to peek through. Then, I go practice what I saw in secret." Theron thought that was going to get him an execution for sure. To his surprise, the King laughed.

"That's just marvelous! You are very gifted, young Theron. You got an eye for magic and can watch something being done and then mimic it almost perfectly."

Theron had no idea how to respond. The King was there complimenting HIM of all people. "Even if I am just an elf?"

"You're more than that. You're a brave spirit with a lot of potential and talent. Don't let this world beat you down just because of what you are; show this world who you are, and overcome the obstacles in your way. You are more than just an elf, you are a voice that needs to be heard." The King placed a hand on Theron's shoulder.

"Tell me, Theron, if you had the chance to do anything, anything at all, what would it be?" The King gave him a moment, but he didn't need one.

"I want to become a hero, someone people speak about in legends. I also want to give back to my father who has made sure I was always taken care of." Theron said proudly.

The King smiled and laughed, "that's quite the goal! I like it! Say," the King looked him square in the eyes, "How would you like to come to the castle and train from within the walls?"

It was quite the offer, but Theron doubted himself. "I'm not sure if I'm worthy enough..."

"Well, if you don't want to, you don't have to. However, I as the King, would be at peace knowing I had someone like you learning how to protect me and our kingdom."

That's all Theron needed to hear to change his mind. His chance to be something other than a elf, more than a pointy eared cretin who watched his father's stall.

"Alright, I'll do it. When can we go?" Theron said, acting as if he had already packed his bags.

"Right now." The King said, standing up and making his way back to his guards. "We head for the castle together, and there you'll train right where a talent like yours belongs."

Theron paused, "but wait," he glanced back at the stall that was in shambles. "What about my father?"

"That's already taken care of, I'll have him escorted to the castle and I'll personally apologize for everything." The King stood against the sun light, making his silhouette seem even more magical. "And if you'd like, I can teach you more about magic."

Theron's mouth grew into a big grin, his ears wiggled in excitement as he skipped beside the King.

The King looked down at Theron, "Make sure to remind me to have that wall fixed, won't you?" He chuckled.

"If you want, I can fix it!" Theron grinned from ear to ear.

"Let's focus on one thing at a time." The King laughed. "Knighthood is a big responsibility. Do you think you're ready for the challenges ahead?"

"I believe I was born ready." Theron met the gaze of the King with a straight face.

"Alright, young Theron, then show me what you can do with opportunities."

Today was the most eventful day Theron has ever had. He fought a knight, met the King, spoke to the King, and then was recruited by the King himself. Today was quite the adventure. Today was just the beginning.

Today, Theron's life changed forever.