An intricate silver robe with large billowing sleeves stopped shortly before the ground, covering the woman’s sleek looking body. Raven black hair cascaded down her shoulders, reaching slightly below the waist. Its color intertwined with the robe below it, creating a striking contrast.

Peeking out in between the gaps of hair was a small red bird, using six wings to fly across the robe. Sometimes twirling playfully along the sleeves, or rushing around excitedly, seemingly about to jump out of the fabric. At other times he decided to hide behind the waterfall of hair, blatantly disregarding the rule that Vasperi’s emblem should always be visible. Though truthfully speaking, nobody sane would dare complain, much less need it to remind themselves about being respectful towards this woman.

Pure snow white skin and the most beautiful face Roland had ever seen in his life, unchanged from the first time he saw it three years ago, made people forget to even breath due to their splendor. But hers was not a beauty to be appreciated. An unholy white fire burned in her stern eyes, making those who looked into them feel like their insides were being filled with boiling iron.

The dainty arms peeking out of her sleeves ended in black gloves, looking like they were made out of pure ash. They seemed to fuse with her very skin, garish black lines creeping up her forearms. And while mostly hidden by the robe, her boots being made of the same ashen substance left little doubt that a similar sight awaited there.

Most striking of all was the thing behind her. A blood-red sword, slung diagonally across her back without a sheath, the bare blade somehow staying there motionlessly despite having no support. Ten inches wide and six feet long, almost as tall as its owner. A frightening amount of heat emitted from the blade, distorting the air around it, making people wonder how their surroundings could remain so cold.

Something that could be answered by taking a look at the hilt, or the lack thereof. Instead of a standard hilt, a pulsating mass of light sat at one end of the blade, beating unsteadily like the heart of a dying person. If looking at her arms or eyes would make one feel uncomfortable and pained, then even the briefest glance at this abomination would make people’s blood turn cold, sapping every bit of warmth from their bodies.

This otherworldly fairy, bearing demonic looking armaments, was Grace Tenning. The Commander of all military personal in the entire province of Seasons, and its indisputably most powerful being. A Knight at the peak of creation, the likes found only a handful of times in each country. If at all.

Edwin taking the lead, all Knights saluted their commander, whereas the normal soldiers remained standing upright like statues, eyes transfixed on the ground with no signs of movement. The various children behind them on the other hand had some trouble staying organized. Some of them saluted awkwardly while a good chunk bowed low, a few being so out of it they started making the Princess’ prayer gestures. The vast majority however stared at the ground, paralyzed in fear after looking at Grace’s baleful sword.

Roland and Arthur mimicked the normal soldiers, doing absolutely nothing but stand still like good little decorations and look at the ground. Both of them knew only Knights and Mages were supposed to salute to such a high ranked military figure. Mortals and regular soldiers should simply keep quiet and move aside when they blocked the way. Their recognition neither needed nor wanted.

Only one person in the entire square had not been completely overwhelmed by Grace’s mere presence. Curtsying politely, despite the long distance between them, Claire looked upon the Commander in confusion.

The latter gave a quick glance at the befuddled girl, showing no further reaction, before acknowledging her Knight’s salutes with a curt nod. Stepping forward, she instantly covered thirty meters to appear right in front of Edwin.

Face like stone, the latter showed no signs of life, his breathing having actually stopped momentarily. Only the panicked look in his eyes when they met the gaze of his superior betrayed that he had in fact not turned into a statue.

Apparently satisfied with scaring her Lieutenant half to death, Grace turned her head to the side, looking at an unassuming black haired boy standing there. Said boy trembled all over. Anticipation and dread wrangling in his heart. Is this it? The end? The smallest of tremors ran through a lonesome stone tower inside his soul as the worst of possibilities floated through Roland’s mind.

However ultimately anticipation won handily. After all, there would be more than enough time for dread when that gigantic red sword was actually chopping down at his neck. Though a flick of her finger would probably be more than enough to tear him apart. A chance. Breathing stabilizing slightly, Roland still felt cold, the overwhelming pressure however lessened a lot.

“Roland Crescent?” Commander Grace asked, voice raspy and cold, not fitting her beautiful features the slightest. It echoed through the square, surprising the few people that still had their faculties in order. Edwin in particular looked about ready to run to the other end of the earth if it were possible.

Roland’s nodded his head on instinct, afraid of not finding his voice if he tried to open his mouth. He was fairly certain no matter what name she had asked for when looking right at him, he would have most definitely nodded. Luckily, he was spared from getting renamed in an unfortunate freak accident today.

This makes no sense. I haven’t done anything important enough for someone like her to personally come.

Averting her eyes from the little boy, Commander Grace’s gaze swept through the square.

“What are you waiting for?” her question bore into everyone’s brains, destroying whatever other thoughts they had, and bringing the people that were frozen in fear back to their senses. “Make yourself scarce.”

As if a spell had been broken, the two hundred statues on the square suddenly came to life, performing a hasty mass exodus from the newly created land of cold air and scorching swords. The soldiers showed enough awareness to try and keep the children orderly, preventing any accidents.

Roland remained where he was, his mind spinning at top speed, trying to find some explanation for this madness. He had tried to get a recommendation through Stephan’s plan. But even that would have never ended with him actually meeting Commander Grace personally, a simple slip of paper being all he actually hoped for.

She wouldn’t look for me just because we brought booze to her lieutenants. There is nothing to gain from making an example out of a couple of orphans.

Remembering his companion, Roland looked up from the ground, and found his friend’s large figure amongst the fleeing crowd. Arthur displayed his loyalty by being one of two people actually looking back at the unfortunate boy being left behind. He also showed to have at least half a functioning brain, by leaving after giving his leader an encouraging look when he saw the latter look over.

The current situation was not like the one with Ayer a couple days ago, where Arthur got angry at himself later for not ignoring his base fear and insisting on joining Roland. This here could be considered a force of nature. Arthur may not be willing to accept his regrets, but he certainly could accept that one did not try to change the weather. Such lofty goals were reserved for beings of a higher order, namely Knights and Mages. And even for those, this was a blizzard not many dared to face.

Seeing his friend brought Roland’s thoughts back to reality. Slowly calming down he chided himself for his previous panic. Trying to find the newest member of his little group, he quickly spotted here. She, like Arthur, looked towards his direction. Though in Claire’s case her gaze focused on Commander Grace. The energetic girl’s look of curiosity, showing no negativity whatsoever, made Roland slightly more hopeful.

Edwin and Claire are the ones most closely connected to the Commander, one being her subordinate, the other having some supposed interaction through her father. Something Claire’s nonchalant behavior basically confirms. And both of them had no idea about this, judging by their respective expression.

Stopping himself from making any further theories, Roland realized the futility of what he was doing. Just like when that annoying golden brat had taken him for a walk, he let his mind spin endlessly, ultimately revealing more than he should have in blind panic. Nothing he could do would change the situation, so the best course of action was actually to stay calm, be polite and smile.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

If she came here for his secret, Roland would be at her mercy anyway. If whatever was happening turned out to be something good for him on the other hand, he would need to thank her instead of being panicked and fearful. And on the unlikely chance the current situation had similar roots to the one from two days ago. Well in that case Roland would probably have to kneel before Arthur, apologizing profusely for not taking his advice from the start.

If all of this ends up being her way of telling me to keep away from Claire I might actually die of laughter. And promptly for real when she twists that disrespectful neck of mine.

Grinning sheepishly, Roland suddenly felt free. Turning fully towards the domineering woman beside him, he realized everyone had left by now. Looking into her scorching white eyes, he felt like his insides were burning to cinders as he gave her his best smile of the day, handily beating the ones he displayed going door to door today in radiance. His life could be considered a joke at the best of times, so he might as well go with it when the situation called for it.

Studying the boy carefully, there was not a hint of emotion on the Commander’s face. She simply stood there, like a deity that had descended on an unimpressive looking public square. Maybe judging him, maybe not seeing the insect in front of her at all. The only movement seen on her side was a little red bird, peeking through the gaps in between the Commander’s hair at Roland, before going back to playing on his own, somehow managing to look disappointed by the lousy looking boy.

At this point getting ignored would be an actual dream. Roland instinctively focused on the quickly moving bird, furtively trying to keep up with its rapid movements.

“If I am informed correctly, you turn fifteen two weeks from now,” Commander Grace finally spoke, making Roland nod in surprise, his birthday being the last thing he would consider important to a figure like her. Though even his currently liberated mind couldn’t help but stall briefly at what followed. “And you hoped to get a recommendation for early admission to the Academy from me.”

At that moment Roland, without a single doubt, looked like the biggest fool imaginable. Mouth hanging open weirdly, his eyes, which had chased after the bird previously, went totally out of control. Unsure of where to look, they trailed over the Commander’s graceful body, hidden underneath her beautiful silver robe.

If anyone else had been here, there would be no need for her to do anything, seeing the inane behavior of Roland’s would be more than enough to make any bystander have the irresistible urge to beat him to a pulp.

“Yes,” Roland answered, focusing back on the painful eyes, trying his hardest to pretend his disgraceful behavior earlier never happened. The Commander still looked as emotionless as earlier, to the point that Roland wondered whether she was wearing the world’s most intricate mask.

Instead of bothering with Roland’s confusion about still being in one piece, Commander Grace offered him a small white book that suddenly appeared in her hand. Taking it instinctively Roland shuddered briefly when his skin touched upon the coarse texture of her black gloves, feeling like he had brushed past a burned out corpse.

The feeling however ended up being quickly forgotten. As was everything else in his surroundings. Reading the title of the unadorned book, Roland’s breathing hastened, his whole body trembling in excitement. Eyes starting to water, he felt like the world was for a change not pressing down upon him mercilessly.

Setback after setback, where he wasn’t even allowed to grieve or rage, expected to keep walking forward with a strained smile. And now he finally saw a light. Faint as it was, it nonetheless warmed him upon his seemingly endless path.

In his trembling hands, cradled like a little animal he had to keep save, Roland held the ‘Wooden Heart Palm’. A real genuine Knight technique.

And much more than that. Acknowledgment. Not some empty praise for what he achieved, or worthless looks of appreciation. Real physical acknowledgment, telling him he had been in the right, that his path had been right.

The few tears building in Roland’s eyes dried up, leaving behind the faintest trace of silver. The formerly lightly trembling tower was silent as a grave. Its prisoner hiding in fear, for just outside the sleeping Warden stirred awake. Roaring in jubilation.

Finally.

Taking a deep breath Roland clutched the book towards his chest, waiting for the Commander’s next words. There was absolutely no way this would be the end. People did not just hand out a Knight technique like candy to some random orphan.

Observing him fully, Grace still showed no reaction. But not even the slightest movement or change of Roland’s escaped her scorching eyes.

“Cultivate that technique for the next two weeks, and come to the Garrison for a test on your birthday,” Commander Grace gave Roland his orders. “If you pass, I’ll give you a recommendation.”

Roland had hoped, wished even, to hear these words. It felt unbelievable. There was no reason for the Commander to help him. Nothing he ever did could be considered more than a young boy's attempt at playing the hero. But it happened anyway. This shit makes no sense. But I’m so happy I could die.

Smiling stupidly, Roland felt like he had finally achieved a real victory. A Knight Technique. Something he dreamed about for years, right there in his own hands.

“Thank you so much!” Roland practically screamed, voice about to break, bowing as deep as he could. The happiness he felt threatened to tear through him, turning him into a fool like earlier. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Due to his head currently facing the earth, he missed the first actual emotion the Commander displayed today. Looking down upon the hopeful boy, who was thanking her with all his heart, for the briefest of seconds a look of absolute revulsion appeared on Grace’s face. Her ashen hand twitched with the urge to swipe clean through the miscreant who somehow believed she had expectations of him.

By the time Roland raised his head her expression returned to the stern look she displayed earlier. Instead of giving a response to Roland’s thanks, she let the silence speak for itself, having no more need for the boy’s presence.

Roland picked up on the unspoken dismissal and gave one last quick bow, before leaving in high spirits. His usual doubts tried to make themselves known, but the sheer magnitude of this victory drowned them out completely.

This is how it should be.

Losing himself in the feeling of success, an eagerness burned withing Roland that would put Claire’s usual one to shame. The weeks earlier barrage of defeats and mistakes was purged from his mind, feeling like a distant memory from years long past as he marched forward. And for the first time since forever it was because he wanted so, not because he had to.

*

Left alone in the large square, Commander Grace looked at the departing figure, disdain briefly flashing through her eyes, before averting her gaze towards the roof of a large building two streets away. At the current distance you could barely make out a few figures mulling about. Nobody would ever believe they had been observing the square for several hours already.

Or to be more accurate, only one figure actually observed anything, the little kids swarming around him being totally unable to make out any detail over such a vast distance. Long white hair with a beard of absurd size, dual wielding bottles of Donkey Slob, Georg looked to be having the time of his life as he was being served food and booze by a bunch of tired Rats.

Noticing the Commander looking his way, he gave her a toothy grin, raising a bottle in a gesture of invitation. Alcohol was, after all, always best enjoyed with company.

Commander Grace clicked her tongue in annoyance, angry at having to see so many misbegotten creatures in a single day. Turning away briskly, she vanished into thin air with one single step.

Georg took the rejection gracefully, carefully shaking off the ice from his beard. His poor bottles on the other hand had exploded into dust, the liquid inside tragically falling to the ground. It left him standing inside a pile of glass dust and ice as his little Rats crouched on the ground, frost covering their tiny bodies in the scorching summer heat.

“Well fuck me sideways,” Georg murmured, sweating despite his usually untamed beard being frozen stiff. “No wonder the Ellward’s old fogey had to retire if such a monster eyed his position.”

Shaking his arm to make a new bottle appear, Georg gulped it down in one quick motion, before breathing out strongly onto his freezing companions, who quickly felt warmth return to their limbs. Followed by a nauseating stench of alcohol that made them want to vomit.

“Come on, my little shits,” Georg called out happily, leaving his vantage spot. “We learned a lot of interesting things today. Definitely gotta keep an eye on the situation. I have a feeling there is going to be some juicy stuff happening all too soon, so let’s stock up on the good stuff while we still can!”

Exiting the roof, his confused and scared companions in tow, Georg decided to postpone his family reunion for now. Nothing wrong with waiting a couple of weeks when he was having this much fun. Grinning like a child in a candy store, he headed back towards his temporary base.

Seeing he would stay there for longer than expected, maybe some renovations were in order. The actual owner would definitely be ecstatic.

Georg couldn’t wait to break the good news.