Another day of tranquility had arrived in the lands of Aranwyth. Just to the north of Fort Varandi, a fertile and pure valley lay between two hills. Birds chirped as little animals scurried through the underbrush, while a sheep herder sat on the northern slope, under an old, wise oak.

The sheepherder abruptly rose up as his surroundings become too tranquil and still. First, the birds fled in terror, and then he heard it: the unmistakable sound of hooves trampling the moist morning ground.

The shepherd placed his fingers swiftly to his mouth and whistled. His sheepslee responded quickly to his directions, herding the sheep towards him as the sounds grew louder, and he could now hear men whooping, steeds neighing and growling, and slee barking.

Then he saw a herd of black, large bovines crossing the southern slope. They had forward-curving horns as thick as branches of the old oak trees. They had a muscular build, a lean abdomen, a thin waist, and lengthy legs.

The herd charged westward down the hill, except for one, which was being herded north into the valley, slee hounding it, and warriors on their steeds whooping and hooting. The bull made numerous attempts to flee and rejoin the herd without success. When it entered the valley, it sought to repeatedly ram its horns into the horsemen. However, they deftly evaded it.

The shepherd observed with awe as the warriors denied the bull a moment of rest. They continued to herd it, making it run across the valley and back in an attempt to tire out the animal. Then, the sonorous sound of a horn resounded, and six armored men mounted on their steeds crested the southern hill, their armored suits composed of interlaced armor pieces that shone slightly in the sunlight. They charged downwards, short spears in hand. As they approached the beast, they hurled the spears from a distance, striking the bull's sides and neck, causing blood and gore to erupt from its body. However, this did not stop the black bull; rather, it appeared to enrage it further.

And perhaps luck was on the beasts' side, as one of the warriors herding it impaled a spear too deeply into its flesh, causing it to become lodged, and the beast turned as he held the spear, tossing him from his steed, he hit the ground rolling not greatly harmed it seems.

The battle was fought with spears, axes, and horns, and the grass was gradually turning red. The beast was strong and unyielding, while man was wise and patient. Slowly, the solitary creature grew weary, slowed down, and lost its fighting spirit. A man who could be distinguished from others by his helmet's golden boar crest. This man was familiar to the shepherd because he was his lord, the Atheling Cedric, and the High Hlafweard of the vast majority of the land he had ever known. He witnessed the mighty sword strike the beast's neck, nearly severing it in half. The bull's feet fell forward, and it let out a death scream before collapsing to the ground.

Slowly, the warriors who were herding the beast surrounded it, dismounted, and began to dismember it by severing its flesh into manageable pieces. The six horsemen who fought the bull were conversing while their mounts lapped at the bull's blood that was being discharged onto the ground. From his vantage point, he could distinguish between the two groups of men with ease. While the first group also comprised warriors who rode horses, both they and their mounts were smaller. While the former were men of a larger stature, a few heads taller and sturdier.

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He understood why the horses were dissimilar as he looked at them because one was a typical horse and the other was a ferus. This animal is silky, ethereal, and graceful. It is a carnivore with a long neck and a smooth gait. It has two large eyes on each side of its head, and the majority of them are colored either black or tawny. They also have long ears, four rows of fangs, and tongues that are long and triangular in shape.

As for the reason why the men were distinct from one another, it was simply because of their blood. One of the men had common blood, while the other had the blood of legendry kings and heroic warriors that had been passed down through the generations.

As the sheepherder was lamanting his ill luck of in birth, a rider crested the hill, shouting as he descended, although the herder was unable to hear him. However, he did hear the Athelning give out a loud laugh, which abruptly ceased, and the sheepherder could see him sighing and shaking his head as if he were recalling something sorrowful.

The Atheling began to point as if giving directions before he and his five companions mounted their horses and rode off.

While the other warriors were butchering, one of them mounted their horse and rode in the direction of the sheepherder as he got closer to him, he spoke his voice hoarse. "The Goddess of luck may be with you today. The Princess has given birth to a second young Lord for the Atheling, and he has ordered that you are to get a share of the meat." The herdsmen expressed his gratitude by placing his right hand over his heart while saying, "Thank you, gentle sir, and may the gods bless his High Hlafweard family." He took the meat and wrapping it in leather and putting it in his carrying sack.

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POV: Cedric:

He bemoaned his bad luck beneath his breath. Two days earlier, his lady wife had informed him that she was craving auroch tail, and he had been searching for the beasts to hunt ever since. But according to the druid, she was not supposed to give birth so early. Initially, he feared that the child's premature birth would render him weak, but it appears that he was born well.

He rode swiftly and reached within an hour or so; before him stood Varandi, an old Imperial relic. The fort was surrounded by a sturdy stone wall and a massive earth rampart, forming a square with five hundred-foot-long sides. There were towers at each corner and in the middle of each side at the gates. As his ancestors had done before him, he ensured that the fort's walls were still in good condition, despite the fort's age, because it was an important gateway to their kingdom.

He rode through the village and through the fort gates without stopping. When he arrived at the keep in the middle of the fort, which sat on a small hill, he dismounted without paying attention to anyone until he reached his wife's bedroom. Upon entering, he saw his wife nursing their infant while their two other children watched.

He heard a harsh snort from his wife as she referred to him in her own tongue as an oxhead, implying that he was a stubborn fool. A swarm of maids abruptly stopped in front of him and asked if he would want a bath first because it would be better for the infant. He had almost forgotten that he had been riding, as he reeked of blood and sweat. He smiled weakly at his wife as he apologized. He was finally able to hold his child after bathing and changing his clothes. He spoke softly. "I believe we should call him Solomun since his eyes appear tranquil." His wife smiled and said, "Then I wish him a peaceful life." He looked down and saw the newborn was fast asleep.

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