Geron
A hot summer breeze blew through the ramparts as Geron strolled across the castle walls. His mind was rushing through dozens of problems that he had to solve, he wanted to have at least some kind of plan when Lord Michael returned in a couple of days.
The messenger had arrived a week ago, telling them that his lordship would return soon, and with the orders he had carried everything had become a little more hectic. They were of course in a celebratory mood with the news of their lord’s success but organizing the increased workload that fell on Reen’s troops to provide the escorts for shipments, road construction, survey operations, and wood clearing efforts was straining his limited resources. Not to mention providing security for the nobles heading for the castle to attend the planned feast.
Especially the reduced number of knights was cause for concern for Geron, they had lost a couple in the attack and some more had left after, if House Rowan hadn’t had an above-average number of knights before then they would have been critically understaffed even without the new demands.
The number of knights wasn’t his only concern though, the mood in the brotherhood was sour. Two fronts had formed, one supporting either Geron and the lowborn initiates, and the other being vehemently against it. Geron had his hands full with so many things that he had barely any time to play babysitter for their petty fights.
Geron had never expected the mantle of the knight commander to be light but doubted that he could have taken it up at a worse moment than this one.
He descended from the wall and let out a sigh when he was out of sight for a moment. He made his way to the stables next to inspect the horses. The inspections were only a cover for him to clear his head a little bit of course but at least he was doing something useful.
Searching for some quiet seemed impossible though as he stepped into the stables just to find four teenagers about to fight. One was a large common born from his rough look and the other three were noble blood, of this Geron was sure. They were all initiates judging by their dress up, younger boys training to be knights but not yet squires.
“We’re gonna show you why your kind doesn’t belong here,” one of the nobles said with a disgusted tone.
“Tell that to the commander, you pampered dipshits,” the commoner spat back.
“He won’t be commander long, the other knights said so. He should be happy to order around his betters as long as he can,” another noble initiate spat back.
The commoner seemed ready to fight until he spotted Geron standing next to one of the open pens, he froze up and his expression seemed to tell the others that something was very wrong.
They turned around and similarly stared at the knight commander with horror on their faces, not sure what he had heard.
“I do very much enjoy ordering around ‘my betters’,” Geron growled with annoyance, which led to the initiates looking even more scared. “And you seem to enjoy fighting, so let’s see how long you can last.”
He wouldn’t beat them up himself, they were in Lord Michael’s age and even if they annoyed him, they were nowhere near the level they needed to survive even a sparring match against him.
Even if he didn’t dish out the punishment himself, he did bring them to Sir Godfrey and requested them to be put into matches until they couldn’t even remember what they were fighting about.
Geron stayed there watching them fight against one initiate after another. The number of them was much higher than in the time Geron had started his path to knighthood so this would take a while.
“Hey there, grumpy,” Sola’s voice just appeared out of nothingness right next to him and Geron had to suppress the urge to jump to not embarrass himself.
“I am not grumpy,” he replied nonchalantly as if he had known from the beginning that she was there. He should have but his thoughts were just everywhere except in the here and now.
“If you say so,” Sola replied with a chuckle. She stood next to him and watched one of the initiates being scolded by Sir Godfrey for his poor stance.
They stayed like this for another spar until Geron finally collapsed under Sola’s curious aura.
“Are there a lot of knights and squires in your sermons,” he asked.
“Most of them attend, which you would know if you ever attended,” Sola replied sharply. They did have a couple of arguments about this already and Geron sighed at the prospect of having run into another. Sola sighed, “I know that you like to follow your faith differently, sorry for being so difficult.”
Geron looked at her surprised, there was nothing that she valued more than her faith so to hear her apologize for her fervor was something new.
“You are a priestess, you need to be ... zealous,” Geron answered carefully.
“You wanted to say annoying, didn’t you,” she looked at him with played annoyance.
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“I am not gonna comment on that.”
Sola shook her head with a smile and played with her sun brooch again, which she had been doing more often since she had taken over the congregation.
I am not the only one who is stressed with new responsibilities, Geron reminded himself. He wanted to put his arm around her, but they were in public, so he simply pushed a little bit of mana in her direction. He was not at the level of an aura knight, but he could already freely push mana out, he just lost control after. Sir Godfrey had said that he was on a good way to reach that rank in a couple of years.
Sola felt the touch of his mana on hers and smiled warmly. “Me too,” she replied to his wordless message.
“So why are you asking about the knights?”
“Have you noticed that they are more combative lately?”
Sola thought about it and then nodded. “There is a lot of tension between them. Many are not taking the changes well.”
“Sometimes I wish we were still clearing the mountains. Having something to smash seemingly took the fight out of them,” Geron grumbled.
“I feel like I am back in school. Forming groups who egg each other on to hate without knowing anything about the other,” Sola commented dryly.
Geron thought about what she had said, and something clicked in his mind.
“You gave me an idea,” Geron said with what constituted excitement for the stoic man, he squeezed her shoulder softly and then hurried away, leaving a confused priestess behind.
“What did I say,” she called after him, but he was already gone.
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Kiran
The house has been so empty in the last two months, Kiran mused. Michael had tried to keep his lessons going at the same pace but that had quickly proven impossible with his duties and constant travels. So, Kiran had spent a lot of time in the mostly vacant house which he had shared with all of his lord’s retainers for over two years. He missed that time already; it had felt like having a family again with all those young bloods running around.
A knock dragged him out of his thoughts and his gaze wandered to the door where he sensed two individuals who tried to conceal their mana.
His eyes narrowed, the only people able to conceal themselves like this were aura-level knights and mages, to be visited by either was unusual but by two at a time was concerning.
Before going to the door, he moved over to the water barrel in the corner and to open it, just in case when a raspy female voice barreled through the door.
“KIRAN YOU OLD GOAT, I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE, SO LET ME IN BEFORE I DIE OF OLD AGE.”
Kiran took a moment to recompose himself upon hearing the voice and then redoubled his effort to quickly open up the barrel before opening the door.
In front of his door waited two women, the first one, to whom the voice had belonged, was a tall old woman with white long hair and a slightly wrinkled face. Her robes were practical and well-worn which gave her the appearance of a poor traveler but her whole-body language extruded power and authority. Mana flared together with her anger behind her eyes making them look almost red as she growled at him.
“Rayakan,” Kiran said but it sounded more like a sigh than a greeting.
“Finally, did you have to find your cane first or what, don’t you know that it is impolite to make a lady wait,” she asked with a frown.
“You a lady? Don’t make me laugh. I had to ready some water in case you decide to burn this whole house down, you old hag,” Kiran shot back while mirroring her frown.
The second woman was simply standing behind the first and looked completely unfazed by the exchange. She was young, maybe sixteen, a little bit shorter than Rayakan. She wore similar clothing as the old woman but also wore a hood with strange proportions, covering most of her features. Kiran noticed her yellow eyes that had a horizontal slit and her not-quite-human facial features.
“Why would I do something like that,” she argued and pushed past him into the house, looking around curiously.
“I remember quite well, you throwing fireballs at me the last time we saw each other,” Kiran replied exasperated.
“Ah pisch pasch, you deserved that for abandoning the magic society to sulk in some backwater village,” she brushed him off and looked through the door leading into the magical laboratory Michael and Kiran had built together in the extra room.
“Rayakan,” Kiran said threateningly, “Do not downplay my reasons as sulking.” The atmospheric mana began to vibrate as Kiran released more and more mana into the air.
The strange girl moved in front of her master in a defensive manner and Kiran could feel air affinity mana surround her.
Rayakan swatted her student away with one hand and said, “That is not a fight you want to take, Pan.”
She then turned her gaze back to Kiran and for the first time she looked serious. “You weren’t the only one who lost people back then, but I am not here to dwell on the failings of the past. I would much rather talk about the future.”
Kiran scoffed when she didn’t elaborate with whom the failing lay, but he could guess.
Rayakan sat down at the communal table and looked at Kiran expectantly. He sighed and sat down, pouring her and her student a cup of the tea he was drinking.
“You always had such a great taste in tea,” the old mage complimented him after taking in the aroma of the tea.
Kiran stayed silent and waited for her to get to the point. The fire mage never had much patience for conversations anyway so he was sure that she would get to it eventually. The only thing she ever showed patience in was magic.
“I heard you took a new student.”
There it is.
“I can remember quite vividly you saying that you would never again take a student,” she continued with a victorious grin.
“Things change,” he answered dryly, and he saw annoyance flash on Rayakan’s face at his lack of reaction.
“I also heard that he is a count,” she continued prodding and pocking.
“By the gods, Rayakan. Get to the point already,” Kiran bellowed.
“Fine, you really got grumpy in your later years. I just came to find out how your little lordling is positioned regarding the magical society and what your plan is with him,” she said with a happy expression at managing to get a rise out of him.
“I do not intend to pull him into our war if that is what you are insinuating. Michael simply wants to build a better world for all, no matter if they are mages or not,” Kiran answered with regained composure.
“You are not foolish enough to believe that. He can’t have one without the other. If he tries to make things better for the mages, then he will inevitably be at odds with the church.”
Kiran knew that; Michael probably knew that, but they had never directly talked about it. Kiran was sure that Michael hadn’t forgotten his promise and maybe the time to start working on it had finally come.
“And you intend to help, I assume?”
“First I intend to see what kind of boy you have found to be worth coming out of exile for,” Rayakan said with a dangerous smile.
Kiran didn’t like it, but he knew that there was no way of stopping her once she chose to do something, especially when it concerned her dream of a magical society.
“I am warning you, Rayakan. I will protect that boy with my life,” Kiran declared sternly. He would probably have to give up his life if he intended to stop Rayakan and they both knew it.
“Now I am even more interested,” she replied with fire in her eyes.