"This is so, so boring!" Groans a chubby child resting his head onto a tall pile of reading exercises as if they were a pillow.

"Stop being so lazy, Arnaud!" interrupted a young by his side. She was around ten years old. "Reading is important! That's what Cleric Seneca said!"

She pointed her finger towards a man with a bowl haircut sleeping by the side of the room. 

"Marzia, if this were so important, Father Seneca would be here teaching us how to write and not taking a nap." Replied Arnaud looking aside while holding the chin with his right hand. He looked around the stone castle's cozy mead hall where they studied. The light of a scorching fire pit painted the walls of orange and yellow.

"Taking a nap?" Recoiled Marzia. "He's not taking a nap, you dimwit! He's meditating," She explained. "He's listening to the Song of the Winds so that he knows all that is going in the world and its people--"

The cleric snored loud.

"I guess the wind must not have anything interesting to say today..." Said a boy with hair black as coal and a fine olive skin. "And I'm done!" He stood up.

"Verano? Already?" Recoiled Marzia reading his copies. His pen's paint dyed pages of the papyrus black. "How?"

"With hard work, effort and plenty of patience-"

"Wait," interrupted Arnaud. "Is this my handwriting that I'm seeing on this sheet, Verano?"

"Anyways," Verano smiled smugly. "You guys wanna play?"

"Yeah, let's do this!" Followed Arnaud as he stood up. He swung his hands and sweat rained off them and fell into Marzia's face.

"Keep it off!" She recoiled. "And where you think you guys are going? Seneca said 30 copies of Seneca's Reflection on Nature through the Senecal Method of Seneticism in Senicum's Continuum. Verano's only done 28," she glanced at Arnaud who still swung the sweat off his hand. "And you Mr. Water Hands have only done 2!"

"Oh, come with us, Marzia," smiled Verano as he rolled his eyes. "It'll be fun..."

"Hey, Verano!" Shouted Arnaud. "I think dad forgot to close the door to the basement! Let's go check it out!"

Verano scratched his head as he stared into Marzia's eyes:

"And I think Arnaud will do something crazy if you are not there, honestly."

"Yeah, you're right," resigned Marzia banging her pen against the table and standing up. "You come back here, Arnaud! Don't you dare go down there!"

Verano followed them yet a sight shackled his legs. Moonlight breached through the ceiling and lightened the old painting of the House De Sforza on the wall. The Duke De Sforza, Arnaud, appeared by the side of the Duchess Livia and beneath them were the diligent Marzia and the chubby Arnaud Jr. Those two were Verano's siblings. Yet the boy missed his own character in the image. He frowned as he knew that the bloodline that united those four in the picture was like a thin glass through which Verano could never go through. 

"Arnaud, it's dark there, you're gonna slip!"

"Oh, come on, Marzia! I'm not stupid--"

Arnaud stumbled and rolled down the stairs to the basement like a ball.

"Damn it, Arnaud!" Snorted Marzia running after him. “Be careful!” She turned her neck around as she tried to lift him off the ground. "Verano, help me!"

"Argh, my head hurts..." Bemoaned Arnaud.

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"I'm coming!" Yelled Verano running towards the basement.

"Don't worry, Verano is coming and he'll apply a medicine on your--"

Verano stumbled upon the stairway and rolled onto them.

"Argh!" Bemoaned Marzia falling onto Arnaud. The three siblings became like a pile of bodies. "You guys gotta definitely look where you walk!"

"I'm sorry, but I did--" Faltered Verano. "It's those steps that are like half our feet. We don't have tiny feet like yours--"

"Silent, you guys!" Exclaimed Arnaud dragging himself out of the pile of bodies. He forgot his wound all of a sudden. The light of a torch bounced off a piece of armory and colored his eyes. "Look at that! It's dad's armor! Did he fight the Northmen in those?"

"We really shouldn't be here, Arnaud..." Remarked Marzia crossing her trembling arms. She imagined her father coming out of the darkness at any moment. "We should be studying with Father Seneca, not here."

"Calm down," said Verano touching her shoulder. "It's gonna be alright, okay? I think dad’s sleeping."

"Okay." She frowned.

"Hey, Verano," Arnaud rose his voice as he pulled a sword from the wall. "Check this out, it's so heavy--"

Yet Verano only had eyes for a map covering a wall in the basement. His irises did not move from the figure as if the image enchanted him.

"Hey, Marzia..." Faltered Verano pointing at the image. "Where are we?"

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 "And that's why reading is important..." She walked by his side and pointed at the tiny red peninsula to the west of Heaven's Shrine. "We're here, in the Duchy of Sforza," she moves her hand a couple fingers to the north. "And this is Aarchen, where our sovereign King Heinrich lives. Mother says I'll marry him someday."

"It felt so distant when we went there to see him get the crown, but..." Verano frowned. "We barely even moved."

"The world is huge. Some travelers say it's even larger than that."

"I want to see it all one day." Says Verano. "But I think I'll have to be 100 years old for that."

"More." Smiled Marzia. "I say 200."

 "Die, Kamaritan!" Shouted Arnaud running with his father's swords over his shoulder to attack Verano.

"Argh!" Moaned Verano throwing himself against the ground as the blade sliced the map. A fragment of the image fell and slid against the ground like a feather.

"Oh no, dad's gonna kill us!” Marzia rose her voice. “You stupid hollow head, Arnaud!" She pummeled her younger brother's head like drums. “How could you’ve done that?”

"O-O-Ouch, stop, Marzia!"

An imperious voice echoed across the room:

"Who did this?" Asked a tall man who missed the left eye. He had the slice of the map on his left hand. He was their father, Duke Arnaud De Sforza, the Scorpion-Knight.

Arnaud, Marzia and Verano stood in line. Neither dared to answer.

"I'll ask again," he took a loud stop ahead. Smoke left off his reddened hands as if his rage fueled the heat. "Who did this?"

Silenced answered him. Arnaud and Verano sweated in fear while Marzia trembled.

The man approached the girl.

"Was it you, Marzia?"

"No, dad, I--"

"Look at me in the eyes."

"I-I was against it all, dad. I told them that we should've stayed studying with Father Seneca."

"I believe you," said the Duke walking towards Arnaud Jr. "Was it you?"

Tears rolled down the boy's cheek. He sniffed loud.

"Answer!" Insisted the Duke.

"No, it wasn't--"

"Look at me in the eyes when you talk!" Ordered the Duke. "Was it you who got in here?"

Arnaud Jr sobbed loud as he rose his head to face his father. He noticed a flame burned in the Duke's right hand. That fire belonged to the culprit.

"It was, it was..." hesitated Arnaud. "It was--"

"Me!" Verano rose his voice.

"No!" Recoiled Marzia.

"It was me, dad," Verano swallowed dry. "We were copying the teacher's book to learn how to read. He fell asleep and I left the table to come play. Marzia and Arnaud just followed me. I-I-It's my fault, dad."

"Arnaud," the Duke rose his voice as he faced his crying son. "Is that right?"

Marzia intervened:

"It's not! Verano did no wrong! Tell him, Arnaud," she glanced at her younger brother. A mask of tears covered his face. "Tell him what happened."

"S-S-She is..." Arnaud resisted. His intestines wrapped in fear.

Marzia snorted:

"Arnaud!"

"She's right, dad! I’ve done it all! I saw the door open and I got in." 

The Duke nodded and narrowed his eye once again at Verano.

"And you," he frowned with the flame still burning in his right hand. "Why did you lie to me?"

"T-T-To protect..." Verano's lips trembled. "My family?"

"Give me your hand, Verano." Ordered the man.

Verano complied, looked aside and closed his eyes.

"Keep your eyes open. Look at me." Commanded the Duke. "You see this scar covering half of my face? It happened when I almost died to protect someone who would not, even in a million years, do the same for me."

The Duke touched Verano's hand with the scorching flame.

"Argh!" Screamed the boy as he tried to pull himself away as his limb burned. 

"Do not sacrifice yourself for a coward," concluded the Duke. "Or you might just die like one, Verano."

The man pulled his hand away and walked out of the basement. Yet stopped as his left foot touched the first step of the stairway.

"Also," he glanced at his children. "You three have two minutes to leave and never again come back here unless I let you in."

Marzia nodded as she embraced Verano who cried in pain. The boy could not take his eyes off his father. The Duke's words had left a deeper mark in him than the flame ever could.