A/N - So this story is basically going to be about how The Kid got some of his items and injuries in the past. Again, tell me if i should continue or discontinue, cause i don't want to waste my time, and check out my other stories on my profile!

Sometimes I like sitting beside the dying campfire like this, the last embers floating upwards, scorching my white hair.

A rare peace of serenity in these hectic days.

Then, I felt a presence behind me. It couldn't be The Kid, since he was off on an expedition to keep us all alive; and Zulf hasn't come out of the tent since The Kid saved his life for the second time. So, when a feminine voice spoke up quietly, I wasn't surprised.

"Hi Rucks." Zia piped.

"Hey" I rumbled, patting the spot on the log next to me as she sat down. After a few moments of silence while we both gazed at the stars, Zia spoke softly. "Do you think The Kid is gonna make it back?"

I was about to answer before she quickly spoke again "I mean, sure, he's got this far, but I've always been worried for him, to think that we all rely on him coming back." She paused uncertainly, but continued.

"I mean, if he didn't come back, what would we do? Sit here until our food runs out?" I was silent for a few minutes, shifting myself so that I was more comfortable. "Zia. Have you ever heard the saying 'You can judge a man by his shoes'?"

She nodded, prompting me to continue. "Well, after meeting The Kid, everyone changes that saying into something a little different: 'You can judge a Kid by what he carries on his back'."

"Course" I said. "The Kid doesn't just carry any old items. He carries something for each memory that shaped who he is now. And take it from an old man, to trust a Kid, you need to know his personality, and therefore, his experiences.

The first item he gains in his story is, of course, his Hammer. His Life-long Friend, who has stuck by his side through everything..."

The first time The Kid noticed the Hammer he was 6. Far too young for him to need or know what such things were.

He was running around the house, trying to escape his laughing mother at bedtime when suddenly he was lying on the floor, with tunnel vision and a throbbing pain along the middle of his face.

"Admiring the ceiling are we?" his mother laughed, helping The Kid up and wincing at the bruise starting to form on The Kid's forehead. The Kid looked around for the source of the pain, and fixated on an object in the corner of the room.

A Hammer covered in dust.

After tucking in The Kid underneath the Pyth-covered sheets in his bedroom, she said told The Kid a story.

"Your father was a good man. He supported me by working throughout our marriage as a Mason, but when he finally finished his shift on the Walls, the war came, and the marshals started recruiting everyone able." Her face darkened, ageing 30 years, making The Kid shudder under the covers.

"The destruction, oh, the destruction! Arrows rained down over the walls, babies cried, and we screamed amongst the fires, but the war still continued, so of course, your father had to defend his home." She seemed totally lost in the memory by now, her voice emotionless and her eyes glazed over. "He set that Hammer down in the corner of the living room, kissed me on the cheek, hefted up his travel bag and left us, never knowing that you were about to be born..."

Tears leaked out of her eyes as she choked out the end of the story. "I never saw him again, never got any confirmation of death, or any of his belongings. And the Hammer just sat there in the corner gathering dust." She stroked The Kid's white hair absently.

"I'm too weak to carry it, and I could not bear to give away the last piece of my beloved." She chuckled dryly "I know it's stupid, but I still hope that someday he'll walk through the front door, pick up his Hammer, and everything would be back to normal…"

After the last word, The Kid's mother snapped out of the trance, kissed The Kid on the head, bid him goodnight abruptly and turned the light out. She swept out of the room like a ghost, leaving The Kid reminiscing over the last few minutes.

Like any normal 6 year-old, temptation was too much for The Kid, and as he listened for the tell-tale sickly cough from his mother's bedroom, he slipped out of bed and sneaked downstairs to the corner of the living room. As he proceeded throughout the house, he walked on edge, with every creak being the possibility of a monster, each breath of wind his mother's dress swishing down upon him, flickers of moonlight mimicking a candle that she would've carried.

After stumbling throughout the dark, he finally got to the living room. Padding across the pitch black, he got within a few meters of the Hammer before he stubbed his toe on a toy train, sending it careening across the wooden floor in a seemingly deafening rattle.

Cursing silently, The Kid stood completely still, straining his ears to pick up any sound from his mother's door.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

After no sound for a few more seconds, The Kid composed himself and continued towards the Hammer. After admiring it from afar, The Kid got in close vicinity and placed his hands around the shaft, feeling the grip meld around his fingers and fit there comfortably. Despite the Hammer being the same height as himself, The Kid still tried to lift it, straining his muscles to the end of his endurance, never even moving it an iota.

Grumbling, The Kid let go of the Hammer, and aimed a kick it.

After getting a taste of karma and muffling the pain by biting into his arm, The Kid trudged back up to his room, not knowing the Hammer had learnt his palm and would remember it for the rest of their time together…

The next few years passed without incident, and the Hammer gathered dust again, becoming largely ignored, except for the habit that The Kid got into praying to the gods by it in the morning. It was while he was praying one day 4 years later that the next part takes place.

"Pyth, The Wakeful Bull, give me strength to be patient with people who jibe about my hair. Micia, The Lorn Mother, take care of my father wherever he may be-" The Kid stopped in mid prayer, sensing something different in the Hammer that he visited every day.

Whenever he used to pray, the grip always seemed too slippery, too big and unwieldy.

But now…

Now it felt perfect, holding his fingers in balance and comfort.

He tugged on the handle in excitement, using too much force, sending the Hammer flying backwards over his head, dragging The Kid with it, smashing into the kitchen table and sending a bowl of vine-apples flying everywhere.

As The Kid picked himself up from the splintered woodwork around him, he groaned, knowing how much a new table would cost, especially now that they his mother wasn't working due to her illness. At the moment they were living off his child benefits. As his mother rushed into the room, The Kid had a stroke of genius. Maybe he could go and work on The Walls to earn them some more money!

However, this thought process was stopped short by the furious glare from his mother. "How did you break the table THIS time?"

The Kid rolled his eyes. The other times weren't his fault!

Then her eyes lay on the Hammer resting in The Kids hands, and she seemed to grow younger by the second, her eyes shining. "You picked it up! It's yours now! I'm so proud of you!" After a few minutes of his mother hugging him, The Kid cut her rejoicing short by explaining his plan to join the Walls to get them some more money.

Typical of mothers, the first thing The Kid's said was: "But what about school?"

The Kid was about to respond, but she put her hand up. "Now, I know you don't like the bullies and how you don't think you're smart enough to continue, but you can't just give up!" After arguing for a good hour, they agreed on The Kid going back to school after they were rich when his 5 years were up.

After readying himself for the journey, and checking his saddlebag once more, The Kid made sure he had enough food for the trek to The Walls slinging it over his back and strapping his Hammer alongside it. The Kid didn't really have any friends, so the only person he had to say to say goodbye to was his mother.

Lightly pushing open the door to her room, The Kid peered into the room slowly, not wanting to wake her up, since she was now bed-bound with the sickness spreading throughout her body. Reaching her side, the light from crack in the doorway lighted up her face slightly.

The Kid tried to memorize everything about her. Her pure white hair, her weary face, which was now at peace, and the subtle hitching of her breath that showed that the illness has spread to her lungs. Kissing the top of her head lightly, The Kid turned around and started walking towards the part of the Walls he could see in the distance.

After several weeks of hiking, The Kid finally got to one of the enlistment stations for The Masons, joining at the back of an endless line, full of strong and fit adults.

Fortunately however, none of them had Kid hoped that would give him some favour in being accepted.

Unfortunately, The Kid's hope was chipped away, person by person, as the line went on. The amount of rejected candidates seemed to be almost all of the people in the line, and they had to do the walk of shame back down the line to the airway at the entrance with their failed acceptance slips clutched loosely in their hands.

Course, The Kid didn't have an Skyway pass, so if he failed to get in, he had to walk back the whole way, without any food.

Failure was not an option.

The Kid was worried out of his mind as he reached the front of the line, but of course, on the outside, he looked as stoic as always. Ringing the bell to be served, The Kid tried to stand up straighter, making himself taller so that he could see over the top of the counter.

An assistant finally came, glanced at The Kid and shuffled some file work, saying "Hey Kid, can I help you? Need to send a letter to your mom or dad?" The Kid grimaced, and shook his head, tapping the request sheet to sign up to the walls impatiently, hoping to get the message across.

"You want to sign up to The Walls?!" The Assistant look incredulous, as if he thought it was all just a practical joke.

The Kid stared him down viciously, and nodded his head curtly.

After The Assistant had stopped laughing himself breathless, he spluttered out "Kid, come back when your 20, then we'll see. Believe me; I'm saving your life. You're just a child."

Child?!

Despite all of Pyth's teachings The Kid was taught at school, The Kid lost his temper, twirling his Cael Hammer from his back and smashing it against the marble paving stone beside him, sending a resounding 'CRACK!' throughout the atrium.

The assistant jumped, startled, then looked down, raised an eyebrow and jerked a thumb to a sign behind him, standing up while chuckling "Well that's a different matter entirely!" As The Kid peered at the wall behind the man, and read the sign, which said "Candidates with a Cael Hammer will be subjected to a different test for direct placement on the Walls." The Kid processed it for a second too long.

Different test?

Turning around just in time, The Kid was able to see the assistant charging him down with a Cael hammer held sturdily in both hands.

The Kid just had time to roll out of the way, before the Hammer destroyed the marble surface where he was just located, setting his teeth on edge with the vibrations that went through the ground.

However, the man recovered quickly, swinging his Hammer around like a bat. The Kid brought his Life-long Friend to block the strike on the shaft, pushing the head of the assistants Hammer away from his face with force, sending the man stumbling back.

Years of being bullied and living in a bad neighborhood had given The Kid honed senses for danger, and more than enough fighting experience for a simple duel.

The Assistant bounced back rapidly, and tried for a uppercut, but The Kid side-stepped and smashed the Hammer against the back of the adult's legs as hard as he could, crippling him for a few seconds. Bounding back to give himself some room, The Kid watched The Assistant get up, crick his neck and set his hammer once more. Taking the offensive, The Kid wound up his Life-long Friend for a heavy strike against the shoulder, but the attendant merely danced away, laughing.

"You're broadcasting your moves too much Kid. You ain't gonna catch me at that rate."

Gritting his teeth, The Kid attacked once again, attempting to get in close and begin to grapple. Once again the attendant eluded him, this time repaying The Kid with a jab at his side with his hand.

Spasming for a moment, The Kid backed up and reviewed his tactics.

Obviously he couldn't hit the man straight on. The adult was too strong, and much too fast. Somehow, he'd have to trick him.

It was all or nothing.

Pushing his doubts aside, the white haired boy threw his Hammer straight at the older Cael. The Attendant merely ducked, and looked at The Kid incredulously. "Did you really think that was going to hit me?"

Ignoring the taunting words, The Kid started running full-pelt at him. Seeing the approaching danger, the attendant lifted his hammer up to end the engagement.

However, this was his mistake. With the attendant's hammer swinging freely, The Kid slid underneath it and through the adult's legs, hoisting up his Life-long friend that was waiting for him on the other side.

For once in his life, size was on his side.

With the attendant off balance due to the momentum of the failed strike, and with The Kid in an advantageous position, The Kid stabbed against the back of the Cael's knees with his feet, sending him to the ground.

The Kid was about to ask for a surrender until heard a voice from behind him.

"A bold tactic, and good technique in close combat, but how do you fare against foreign weapons?" The Kid turned around and saw Marshal Quinby, a famous War Hero.

He walked towards The Kid, his Brushers Pike a blur, spinning around in his hands and hypnotizing The Kid with the motion.

Quinby lunged forward, nearly skewering The Kid there and then, had The Kid not been limply holding his Hammer in front of himself.

The Marshal pushed The Kid to his limits, not allowing him any breathing room, while The Kid weaved and rolled between slices and stabs. Eventually the marshal got in a lucky slice across the edge of The Kid's calf, and The Kid stumbled, losing his balance. Seizing his chance, Quinby swept the pike under The Kid's legs, making him fall to the ground on his back, groaning in pain. The Marshal, thinking the battle was over, pulled the pike to an upright position, turned on his heel and walked away, calling behind him.

"You're good, Kid, but we need the best, especially if we're going to accept a child like you. We need real fighters like-" He hesitated, half-turning around to identify the shift in air around the room, when the ground exploded up from behind him, sending Quinby and the pike hurtling in different directions, smashing into walls and strewing rubble everywhere.

The Marshal coughed up some blood and spat it out, his eyes wide in amazement. With difficultly, his focused his eyes on The Kid, who was standing in front of him, a hand stuck out in companionship.

He hated being called a child.

The Marshal grasped it, and pulled himself up. "You have any Mason blood in you by any chance? Not anyone can pull a Stunning Wallop out like that without the proper training..."

The Kid didn't respond.

Shrugging, The Marshal brushed himself off quickly. "Well, anyway, despite your age, we sure could use someone like you on our side if there's another war..." Quinby stroked his jawline, and patted The Kid on his shoulder. "What do you say to being the youngest person to work on The Rippling Walls?"

The Kid glanced back, taking one last look at the clock tower on the horizon that marked out the city where his mother currently lived.

He turned back and nodded.

"And so, The Kid's learnt his first life lesson: No matter who you are, how old or weak, with the right tools, anybody can create their own future.

Now the next chapter, you know that bandage the Kid has wrapped around his left hand and wrist? Well... it's certainly not a pleasant story...

Hey, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the story!

If you want, feel free to check out my other works, and like always, reviews and favorites would be much appreciated, I would really like it if i could get some feedback and maybe some constructive criticism to try and improve on. But again, I'm not going to force you.