The dark of night in the streets of Gryswold City illuminated by the dancing light of various torches and lamps scattered across the various buildings was a sight for sore eyes when Nessa wasn’t. A majority were made of stone. On the way, Nessa did not speak much to the old Ainsworth. She occupied herself with thoughts on how to reach the capital from the eastern outskirts of the entire continent. In this region, a place separated from the rest of the Valharden continent by the East Marsh, she recalled that the most influential group was a coalition of scholars under the banner of an organization called ‘The Society of Scholars’. Beyond Gryswold, a few dozen kilometers west near the bog waters of the East marsh, lay erupted the city of Haine, home to the headquarters of all the scholarly circles.
Yet, she could not bring these two infants with her, could she?
Nessa shook her head.
“…Surely, you must have some questions for me, no?” Ainsworth walked through Gryswold city’s uniquely named ‘core street’--a walkway that seemed to connect to all roads--with his hands folded behind his back, stealing a glance over his shoulder at his company.
What he thought was a charming smile she interpreted as a slimy smirk.
Nessa still held the toddlers in her arms, protective in terms of body language. This much even he could infer and quite easily at that. While they were seemingly roughly two to three years old, easily capable of walking by themselves, she had never allowed them to detach from herself, whether before or now.
Both never spoke, staring at her with wordless curiosity, simultaneously. However, only Gilthunder seemed to possess a spark of intelligence in his eyes from among the two.
“That’s a given.” Her inflection had been remote from the onset. Having a duo of toddlers constantly stare at her did not help her maintain a strong front, however.
“I sort of can’t exactly understand why you’re hiring my services for this ‘old man in need of a caretaker’, but I’ll leave that be for now. We’re inside the City already, after all--you won’t just throw me out unceremoniously at this stage, even if he doesn’t take us in, right?”
For once, Nessa’s frosty exterior broke with the light of humor; a small curl at the corners of her mouth made sure to convey that. Besides, she could question someone in the know about a few gripes she sought to resolve.
Ainsworth’s smile did not budge, but he halted, pausing with a middling stare at her. It did not take much for him to process a response. “Right.”
“What’s his identity?” She inquired, but noncommittally.
“Headmaster of Gryswold Academy; his name is Ainsworth, too. Yes, that’s my brother, Zachariah Ainsworth, one of the key individuals in terminating the undead threat twenty years ago. My full name is Edward Ainsworth, for the record.”
The name didn’t register amongst the people Nessa knew, but that didn’t undermine the solemn look on her face. “It’s just around the corner,” Edward added.
The gates of the mansion came with a rather humbly styled fence drawing a square that girdled the entirety of the land upon which the old fellow in need of a caretaker lived. Inside, behind the bars of steel enhanced by runes, were shrubs, vegetation and miniature cliffs. The total area it occupied could easily fill at least five standard houses, and that was merely the slot delegated to a single resident in the Purple Courtyard district. Mansions of varying style spanned the entire residential area, but it was incomprehensibly massive; each with durable, secure walls, further isolated from the world outside through various formations of engraved runes.
Runes, often engraved on mana stones, had the ability to make use of the mana in the air, the power of the world itself, and were virtually self-subsistent and without an expiration date applied to their lifespan, save for when external trauma offsets their structure. Only this single, lone yet homely abode possessed no such flair or extravagance; there was only the calm, vastness of nature radiating from beyond the cold steel that separated Nessa and Ainsworth from its interior once they arrived at the gates.
Before Ainsworth could knock on the gates with the dragon-shaped doorknocker, the gates parted almost unnaturally, and the shrill, consistent screech of its hinges caused Nessa to wince.
“Edward,” an old voice said, before the torch hanging on the side of the gate wall shed light upon an old, white-bearded man in simple, pale blue robes standing in the middle of the gateway.
“Big brother. It’s been a while,” the old, silver knight replied dapperly.
“Who’s this?” Though it didn’t take long for someone as well-versed in the arcane as him to register the tiny, but noticeable amount of mana from the children in Nessa’s arms. “Ah, you found more children with high, innate mana?” His voice held a natural aloofness to it, but the arch of his brows conveyed a pleasant surprise. His old, gentle gaze alternated between Nessa’s eternally hard stare and the blinking curiosity in the eyes of the two toddlers. “This is good.”
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Not in Nessa’s ears, but the scene behind her persuaded her sufficiently. A pack of children, all of different ages, had appeared from behind the shrubs, the doors and windows of the mansion, peeking their heads out at the new arrivals.
“This- This is…”
“Ah, he didn’t tell you, yet?” Zachariah gave his brother a displeased look, to which the recipient snickered without a morsel of remorse on his face. “I take children with awakened mana under my tutelage; these are the exceptional ones that have entered my academy.”
She was speechless, but the infants in her arms suddenly began to resist her hold on them. “Alright! Relax.”
Nestled in their furs, she let them off on the ground, to which they darted past the old Zachariah towards the children hiding by the shrubs. They appeared like miniature savages, and they acted like ones, for their first move was to grab one of the children and throw them into the artificial lake nearby. The victim screamed all the way over.
This made Zachariah speechless in turn. “A rowdy pair.” He appeared unsure, but Nessa is quick to cut him short. “Can I trust you to take care of them, then?” From first impression alone, she felt safe in doing so. Eustace’s potential demise left her restless, and giving them a better future worked in their best interest.
“Of course.” Zachariah nodded, in his own unique, languid way. Nessa paused for a long time, and neither of the brothers interrupted her. They could see the hesitation in her eyes as they fell to the ground.
“You seem riled up by something--a purpose rests in your gaze,” Zachariah chimes in eventually. “It’s best you solve any issues that have cropped up. As for Edward’s so-called job offers, take it with a grain of salt. There’s no need for maids when the children can be disciplined with chores. The two boys will still be here regardless of how long you take. This is a home, not a business, after all.”
With a final nod, she stepped through the gateway towards Gilthunder and her still unnamed boy.
“Gil and… Julian. Julian shall be your name,” she begins, to which the portal-borne infant reacts with a stare of its wide eyes into her crestfallen, emerald gaze. “You two—can you promise your aunt that you’ll be good and stay here?”
Only Gilthunder nodded, as Julian cocked his head to the side, confused by words.
She laughed at Julian, and ended with a smile at Gilthunder. Reaching out, she embraced both. After a short while, she let go, taking off a necklace around her neck usually concealed under the collar of her leather breastplate. Holding the simple, gleaming jewelry in her left hand, she used the other to fetch out a small ring from her satchel with the other.
“This used to belong to my mother, Eliana Eques.” She held out the necklace, neatly latching it around Gilthunder’s neck, clipping it on. “And this was my father’s, Dupre Eques’, ring of betrothal to my mother.” It was connected to a chain, which she coiled around Julian’s neck.
“You two are now the next generation of the Eques clan!”
Behind them, Zachariah couldn’t help but feel a recoil from her statement--old men typically knew old families, even the ones fallen from grace. Deciding to sweep it under the rug, he merely coughs. “Fate is truly unpredictable, but are you sure you wish to give them that name...?”
Nessa gave him a sideways glance, but it was cursory, shifting back to the two children.
“I hope you two grow up well, alright? I’ll be back before you even know it, haha,” she laughed feebly, the tone of her voice pained. She stood up, but Gilthunder had laid his tiny hand on her thigh, staring up at her with his trademark glare.
“Gil…” Reaching down, she stroked his cheek, before gently pulling his hand off to create a distance between them that neither could bear to see.
She looked away. Frozen in her steps, she doesn’t know how, but she managed to walk up to the old Zachariah. “The answer to your question is...it depends on you.”
And then she left through the gate, leaving behind a teary-eyed Gilthunder and a Julian staring at the former with a flummoxed, wide-eyed look, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Zachariah looked on solemnly as she disappeared around the corner--the torch on the gate wall swayed forlornly, a dejected silence following her leave. The children at the manor’s front had long retired to their own devices.
…and so, three years pass in relative quiet, the ripples across the High Kingdom coming to an eerie, sudden halt.
“Gil! Gil!” A voice of light, unaged tones screeched. “Oh, come on!” Zachariah bitterly shouted. Gilthunder ran around the garden at the front of the manor with an expensive-looking vase in hand. Both of the Eques boys were dressed in shorts and shirts of decent make. Zacharia seemed to have gotten a few additional wrinkles to his currently creased forehead.