Vilon was one of the Grand Cities of Stivale, situated in the far north of that province, in what is called 'the Mouth of Elysium'.

Despite being unable to boast the lineage boasted by its fellow Grand Cities due to being the youngest, having not had the dubious honor of thriving long before the fabled Aeonian Empire had been usurped by Demons… Vilon more than made up for it by the sheer number of events that it had borne witness to over its comparatively shorter existence.

Not to mention that it was filthy stinking rich, but that might as well be calling water wet.

And yes, it was truly massive. Often nicknamed the 'teeth' due to its urban sprawl, which covered the entirety of the aforementioned Mouth of Stivale. This was an area that was around one hundred and ninety two miles wide and half again as 'tall', that is, towards the south… the city had chosen to expand onto the water instead of to the Bellan Mountains to the North. For all knew, there were no roads in Vilon, the City of Canals.

One could spend several lives just exploring this city and still find new things to catch their fancy, because this city was alive.

And despite that, I found myself in my least favorite part of it…

The northernmost part of the city, the part that was situated on land, and was considered the least interesting and poorest part of the city for it… because why would anyone care about doing what had already been done when they could spend their incalculable fortune on building castles on top of the sea?

I wholeheartedly agreed, mind you, but that didn't change the facts about me having to be here.

Because the Paulus Estate just so happened to be on this part of the city. A wooden mansion fashioned in the style of a galleon… specifically a miniature version of one of the most famous ships in Vilon's history. It had been turned upside down and modified over the years to comfortably mimic a home.

It was a fine dwelling, were it not for the several dozen or so people that lived within.

At least none of those people were doing their usual 'guarding' duties on the front door, instead all that greeted me as I approached my home-only-on-paper was two armed men… Instead of the duelist clothes I was used to seeing, they were firmly garbed in weapons and armor of a band of Condottieri.

As I approached them, they regarded me with a suspicious eye until I showed them the key that I wore as a necklace. Shaped in the likeness of an anchor, it was a gaudy thing that opened nothing and went nowhere beyond showing others that I was the nominal representative of this estate.

Yet I couldn't help but watch with awkwardness as the mere sight of the thing I regarded as nothing but a burden made the two soldiers before me click their heels together in a respectful salute before they stepped aside. I could feel the stares of people walking through dank alleys and paddling through the channels, knowing that they weren't used to such displays.

As if there hadn't been enough rumors floating about my family before.

Regardless, I braced myself for what I knew was coming the moment I stepped past the guards and entered the estate, pushing the doors open and stepping forward…

"MARCUS!"

…And almost immediately being hounded by a gaggle of overly enthusiastic children whose voices blended together into an ear-rendingly shrill tone. Seven of them to be exact, of various shapes and sizes, though all of them shorter than my chest-level, which spoke to their age, given I was not a tall one myself.

My youngest cousins, ever the rowdy bunch.

I let them crowd around me for a bit, enduring their hugs and jabbering before huffing and speaking up. "Alright, alright!" They immediately fell silent, allowing me to finally scan them to check how they were doing… which immediately led to me noticing that there were less of them than there should be! "Where is your ringleader?"

The tallest of the group shoved her hand up into the air, before flushing somewhat as she gathered my attention. Her next words were stuttered and bashful because of it. "H-he is taking care of Nonna, so he put me in charge!"

Amazing, you would think I didn't have any uncles (or cousins older or of the same age as me!) with the way a boy that wasn't even thirteen got stuck with taking care of a sick woman! The aunts got a pass, they were likely whipped into a frenzy trying to make sure my father was not left wanting for any of the luxuries he had become used to in his travels.

"And you all thought to immediately ambush me instead of helping him, huh?" I huffed, immediately making all of them either whine or pout.

"We missed you!" The bravest of them whined, I merely reached forward to ruffle his hair.

"I missed you all too." Despite everything. "But I'm not going to be able to stay, yeah? Don't want to be late." Quite a few of them looked downcast, but there was none of the spirited whining from before. It seems they'd grasped the seriousness of the situation despite being so young. "Go help Johan out with Nonna, I'll see about helping you guys later."

They at least brightened up at that, and only accosted me with a hug for a few more seconds before scurrying off… allowing me to let out a sigh and began heading toward my destination. I didn't come across anyone else as I climbed the length of the Estate, which I was more than a bit grateful for.

They must have been really busy, or told to make themselves scarce…

As I finally reached the top of the stairs and my destination along with it, I couldn't help but think that it must be the latter, especially as I came across a familiar face right before I reached the top of the Galleon. A short and stocky man that stood in the way of me reaching the 'Captain's Cabin'.

"You are here on time, good." Was his only greeting, deliberately making a show of observing me.

"Uncle Mathas." I greeted the man who I knew to be scrutinizing me. "How are you today?"

"Adequate." Was his terse response, I didn't know whether that was a response to my question, or his judgement of my current state of dress… which had of course shed those overly elaborate robes from yesterday in favor of a much more comfortable pair of trousers and one of my fanciest white shirts.

Not the fanciest, but this was not really a formal occasion, was it?

Or at least, I hoped so.

Mathas Paulus was not going to confirm for me anyway, instead simply motioning me forward before turning around. "Come, my brother will see you now."

Ah, a sudden burst of dread suddenly overtook me.

…

Should I turn around and run away?

…No, that would be stupid.

I stepped forward and waited patiently as my Uncle knocked on the door of the captain's cabin. Ostensibly, the office of the Family Head, which had stood empty for a very long time.

"Enter." Was the prompt response from a strong and even voice, which sent another wave of dread through me. I ruthlessly squashed it down as Uncle Mathas opened the door, and ushered me inside… I kept my head down for as long as I could despite the surge of curiosity as I walked forward, before I stopped and finally gave in.

The first thing I noticed was that he didn't look as old as I assumed he would be.

The man looked old, for sure… What with his short hair and well-trimmed beard having become more ashen than the black he had imparted onto me (the hair that is, I couldn't grow more than an annoying wisp of hair… yet) and with some creases on his forehead that made him look like he was perpetually frowning…

…But other than that? His face was free of lines or blemishes, he stood with a tall and confident posture I'd only seen from nobles. And his eyes, the same green as mine, were so sharp that they felt as though they were digging into my soul. The man in front of me looked to be in his forties or fifties at most!

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And wasn't that a shock?! Considering he was knocking on the door of three centuries?! He was older than Nonna, who was already on her deathbed, and yet he looked like he could be her son, instead of being her uncle twice removed.

"Son." All of my thoughts ground to a halt as Niketas Paulus--- my father, broke the silence between us for the very first time. His tone was neither warm nor cold… a neutral tone that was no doubt aimed to set the theme for this conversation from the outset. I didn't know what to think of that, simply staring---

Only then did I realize that I had been doing just that for the past… several minutes?

"Father." I spoke back in an awkward and stilted way, bowing my head as I quickly fought off my embarrassment.

Thankfully, he didn't look offended, nor was he about to make this more awkward by mentioning it. "Come." He said with that same neutral stoicness, beckoning me toward a seat situated right across from him, I quickly complied and sat upon the uncomfortable wooden chair.

Which I was strangely grateful for, considering it stopped me from staring at the man and trying to figure out everything I could about him by distracting me. I was the center of attention here, there would be none of my usual tactic of allowing someone to hold a person's attention as I figured out what made them tick…

What a strange turn of events this was. But that was the understatement of the century, was it not?

Regardless, the silence stretched… and unlike me, my father apparently felt no compunctions about 'staring', though he would no doubt call that 'observing'. Not having that luxury, I could only busy myself with observing the sturdy oak table that stood between us. Littered with stacks of paper as it was, alongside a silver medallion that depicted the Lunar Eden with the Cross of the Martyred Son engraved upon it, resting upon a simple stand.

"Let us pray." He said, steepling his hands together and promptly revealing just why the Icon took up such a prominent spot upon his desk. "I would like you to take the lead… a simple recital of the Holy Scriptures would do, I leave the Chapter choice up to your discretion."

Well, that gave me two things to think about at this moment.

The least important part of it being whether or not I was disappointed at this lack of familial affection between me and him, and the more important part being just how I was going to respond to this test of his. Because what else could it be, really? He was gauging just what kind of person I was, from the best source available to him.

That being me.

And so I wasn't going to mince my words. Barely ten seconds had passed since our first exchange, and I had already decided that I was simply going to give him my favorite verse. Leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table, hanging my head low, and bringing my hands up and interlocking my fingers together to shield my face away from the Sun's rays.

If my father was surprised or disappointed at how little thought I had given to this, he didn't voice it. Instead, the only sound I heard from him was him shuffling forward to take the same posture as I.

"Verily, in the lone expanse of naught but void and darksome night, our One God didst wander o'er the formless waste. With might unrivaled and spirit unyielding, His footsteps bringing life amidst the scorching waste." Though my gaze was shielded and my eyes closed in concentration of me channeling the Faith I Kept, I almost stumbled for a moment as I felt that channeled mass of Faithbound Spiritual Energy latch onto something within the room.

The medallion that stood between me and my father… So it was an Icon of Faith, a tool meant to aid one in the channeling of Miracles. These priceless relics could channel Spiritual Energy according to one's Faith, and the finest among them even had special properties that allowed them to channel special abilities no different than Miracles.

The one I beheld now was a rather basic one it seemed, a channeling tool that would make it easier for one to gauge the strength of their Faith. But the simple fact that my father even had access to something like this… was the life of a Merchant really so lucrative that it allowed one to live like a noble?

I put those thoughts aside right as I felt the Spiritual Energy that was pouring into the Medallion begin to fade, I needed to finish the verse and let the Miracle show through. "Alone, yet burdened with the strength of Heaven vast, He didst weave the celestial canopy and fashion a garden from chaos' grasp, His hand alone to shape the world and bear its weight, in solitude supreme and grandeur infinite."

And so the Miracle washed over both me and my father, and what exhaustion either of us held washed away from our bodies. It was not terribly impressive, but such was the nature of the Holy Scriptures. It documented the Miracles which the One God had enacted in order to make Elysium His garden, and taught us how to do it in His stead.

It was the plowshare that came before the sword, and what those swords would always aspire to be.

"The Chapter of Solitude." My father commented as we looked upon each other once more, nothing had changed about him upon me casting the Miracle, though that was to be expected. "You decided on it very quickly, you favor it." He'd realized what I was going for then! "You relate to it, because you feel it is akin to you carving a place for yourself in a hostile place that scorns you as someone who does not belong."

Wait, what?

That--! That was certainly an interesting viewpoint he'd posited there! "That… would be very presumptuous of me." I stammered out, avoiding his gaze with an unwelcome return of that feeling of dread from before, now with a healthy heaping of mortification. Had I really compared myself to the One God just then?

"We were made in His image." My father's evaluating gaze, which he'd held the entire time I was here, broke a little bit as he let out a curious hum. "To not covet strength is what would be presumptuous." H-huh? So he hadn't been offended? But even still, I was really embarrassed.

"I don't think my struggles are anything like trying to create a garden from a barren rock." I murmured.

"I did not say that the comparison was perfect." Was what he said. "But you have time to grow into those struggles."

How comforting…

"I am told that you don't visit the Estate much." He suddenly said, and wasn't that a sudden change in topic! Almost enough to give me whiplash! And as if I wasn't embarrassed enough to discuss what we were talking about before!

"I… was told to establish closer relations with the Speranza Family, and they offered me a place at their own estate." That was very much an excuse seeing as I had jumped at the offer the moment it was given. "They were concerned with my duties as a retainer being affected with the distance." Before I had gained Saint Evangelista's Miracle, the distance between the Speranza estate here could take hours even during days where the channels weren't choked with the ceaseless traffic. The glut of gondolas, sailing vendors, and merchant ships coming from afar makes everything very inconvenient.

My father raised a hand to make a calming gesture. "It is no admonishment, merely a statement." His tone giving nothing away. "But I sense that there are more reasons beyond that. Patrizio Speranza is a man whose compassion often works to his detriment after all, regular visits would have been more than allowed."

…Well, more honesty it was then.

I took a deep breath. "You can probably tell that I don't like being here."

And now there was a glint in his eyes as he leaned forward, as if he'd caught onto something truly interesting. "Marina tells me that you are beloved by the Household." Damn it Nonna… "The children look up to you as a Hero, and even the most jaded among them hold you in a positive regard."

"Because they have expectations that I'm some genius that will get them out of this… embarrassed state." I couldn't call it squalor owing to the life of the Serf, but relative to the vast treasures I beheld within the marble halls of the Castello Pandorano that the Speranza's called home, it may have been an apt one. "They think I'll pull some miracle that'll get us ennobled or something akin to that."

From the youngest child to Nonna herself. It was a burden that I hated.

"A burden that was placed upon you because I left you in their care after not approaching them for a century." Father surmised, making me startle as it felt like he had peered into my very mind. "Me arranging for your subtle fostering amid the Speranza likely did not help."

It definitely didn't.

Little old me, convincing them to not get their hopes up after their prayers for prosperity and status had finally been answered? My father had not brought me to Vilon personally, but I'm told Uncle Mathas' arriving to drop me off had brought new life to a crumbling estate.

It was impossible, just as it was impossible for me and only me to provide them with what they sought from me.

Our Flock of the Martyred Son, united as it was beneath the banner of the Holy State, was very rigid in its societal roles. Though neither me nor my father were Serfs, our rank in the ladder was but a step above as Freemen… Not tied to any land or having any obligations placed upon our Faith and Spiritual Energy, but also free from the protections that came with being part of them.

One thing we were not free of however, was the stigma from the nobility. Which meant that I, as the upjumped son of a merchant who had somehow managed to become retainer to one of the more prolific noble families in the Speranza's, was often the subject of the ridicule of 'polite society'. The Lesser Paulus' (an oxymoron, I am aware) might have believed that my arrangement with Claudia was a smokescreen for a marriage contract, but they had not seen how laughable the idea was in the circles I had spent so long in.

Whatever influence my father managed to gain in the east was not one that held sway in Vilon. That is to say, it hadn't until suddenly, everything had changed last week.

My father stared at me for longer, that glint in his eyes hadn't faded one bit.

"Tomorrow, during the festivities for the Expedition… there will be a Tournament." He said, and my eyes widened. "You will be entering the melee." I immediately made to object, it must be too late if this was tomorrow, but he raised a hand to cut me off again! "Mathas has already entered your name to the lists, I expect you to make your name be heard."

There were… so many concerns I could voice here. My ineligibility to enter the tourney left aside due to whatever influence my father yielded. I didn't have the equipment or the training, nor did I have the information that would have justified a sense of confidence.

"What does this have to do with what we talked about?" I asked, genuinely baffled. "I know that winning a simple tourney won't change my situation at all."

My father smiled.

"I quite disagree." He said, and I had to tamp down on a violent shiver at his pleasant tone. "Because in the end, it will decide whether or not you will be joining the Expedition."

…

In the end, my first meeting with my father could be described as a tense evaluation more than anything else. My father dismissed me not soon after saying those words. I remember things blurring together after that, a true feeling of whiplash to surpass anything my father had inspired before.

One thing I did remember as I made my way back to Castello Pandorano however, was anger.

Anger at yet another person who sought to keep me down. At someone who had shattered all of the previous expectations I'd held of life before by giving me such an opportunity, only to threaten to revoke it after hearing my words. But more than anger, a fire had been lit underneath me…

Because he'd said 'make your name be heard', hadn't he?

Not win.

We would see about that.