Morning came, and with it, more worries. Saul sat up and stretched, and looked for Anna, who was watching people move down the road from the window, her tail swaying back and forth.

Anna turned and smiled at him. "Ħadar! The sun is up, and people are about. So many strange clothes outside."

"Good morning, Anna. How was your rest?"

"It was good. The building next door was too loud, and I woke up, but your necklace helped."

Saul nodded. "Taverns usually are, I imagine."

"Tavern?"

"A place where people drink poison and dance together."

"...Humans are weird." Anna frowned and Saul suppressed a chuckle.

After persuading Anna to wear the dress and shoes (it was a lot of persuading for the shoes), Saul gathered all their things into his pack and left the key at the front desk, heading out towards the town hall.

The closer to the center of the town, the more spread out the buildings were. Here, most people were in carriages, to Anna's fascination. Saul and Anna walked on the outer edge of the road, and looked well off enough to not be bothered.

The town hall was a fort in civilian dressing, and was out by itself with a small square in front. The guard standing in front of the hall nodded at Saul, who walked up to him, straightening his back.

"We're here for an audience with the Viscount."

The guard gave them a once-over, and nodded. "I'll let the butler know you're here. Who's asking?"

"Saul Tremonti."

The guards face slackened, and he bowed slightly. "...Thank you for your service. My father fought beside you in Linwood."

Saul smiled softly. "It was such a small village back then. It's grown much from what I hear. No longer struggling on the edge of the world, eh?"

A shadow passed over the guard's face. "I wish it was so, sir." The guard knocked on the door twice, and it almost immediately opened to a maid, glancing at them curiously.

The guard leaned over and murmured in her ear, and she gave Saul a second look, before bowing slightly and hurrying away.

Saul turned to the guard. "You know, I heard there was some trouble in Lindon, now that you mention it."

The guard shook his head, embarrassed at letting it slip. "It's not my place to say, but a lot of folks are coming from there with tales of bandits or worse." He leaned in, glancing at Anna and murmuring so she didn't hear. "They even say demons are invading."

Saul shook his head. "They also said that when we were sent to defend Linwood, not... goodness, 30 years ago. Yet the walls held. "

The guard simply shrugged. "It's just what I've heard. Maybe this time, they're serious. Why else would they ask you here?"

Saul looked down at Anna, lost in memories of a simpler time. "Why else, indeed."

The doors opened behind the guard to reveal a distinguished gentleman, who'd be mistaken for nobility in other circumstances. He gave a disapproving look to the guard, and simply nodded at Saul. "The viscount will see you now." The tone was clipped, and he turned and walked inside without checking to see if they followed. Saul simply pulled Anna lightly along, and walked into the belly of the beast.

Saul remembered the last time he was here; the long banners in the hall were red before, instead of brown, and there was a lack of paintings on the walls now. Servants used to bow as he passed, but now, they paid him no mind, hurrying about their business. Saul didn't know how to feel about that.

They walked through a courtyard and stopped at a set of tall, sculpted double doors. The butler nodded to the caller, who stepped into the audience chamber.

Saul could hear him through the doors: "Saul Tremonti, exile."

Short, sweet, and to the point. Saul attempted to lead Anna in, but the butler barred him with an arm. "The child stays outside. This is not for her ears."

Anna's grip tightened, and Saul sighed. He squatted down, looking into her eyes. "Anna, this will be but a moment, ok?"

Anna leaned in and whispered. "This place is ʡürʡäf; it smells like fear. Don't be long." She handed him the marble.

Saul nodded and smiled before standing up and following the butler into the chamber. One final glance back caught Anna moving to the side of the entranceway, hand clenched around her necklace.

The chamber was almost as he remembered: light filtered in through stained glass windows, more long banners hung from the rafters, and a rich carpet led up five stairs to the seat of power, where a much younger man sat. The man in question was in his teens or 20s, wearing understated clothes of nobility bearing the colors of the Langleys, and had a hard set of his jaw. He looked at Saul clinically as he bowed to follow the lead of the butler.

"Rise." The young Viscount sighed, giving Saul another look over. His eyes were drawn to the small pockets in his cloak, the frayed hem, lined with a deep gold trim, and Saul's shoes, stained with dirt from his travels. "This will be brief." Another pause. The Viscount leaned forward slightly. "My father asked much of you, and forgave much. I ask you now: are you willing to fight for us? For your homeland?"

Saul stood tall, his knees and back protesting. "I'm... tired, Viscount. I'm not our only hope. Surely there are other, younger men?"

The Viscount clenched his hand. "I don't need younger men, Tremonti. I need your memories. I need your magic to turn back the tide, and save my people."

Saul winced. "There is one other, who shares that memory with me... Where is he now?"

The Viscount scoffed. "He's been poached by the Earl of Carlisle, for their own purposes." He thumped his hand on the armrest of his throne, but it made not a sound in the chamber. "There's no one else."

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Saul bowed his head. "...Then I must go where you need me, my lord."

"Spare me the servitude." The Viscount waved his hand. "You are needed north, towards Linwood. Follow the road, and you'll see the encampment. You will defer to Ser Crawley there; he will put you where you are needed most." The young Viscount spared him a look of pity. "It goes without saying, but your punishment of exile will be rescinded. I will see to it that your children will be taken care of in the event of your death... but, Gods willing, that will not come to pass." He leaned back in his throne. "That is all. Many blessings be with you, Saul Tremonti. May you bring an end to this madness."

Saul bowed again, following the butler out of the chamber. The doors closed behind him, and Anna looked up at the noise, immediately walking to his side from where she was standing at the edge of the courtyard. Saul put a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled nervously at him before tugging the hood of her cloak back over her face.

With a -thankfully- brief farewell from the curt butler, our intrepid duo said goodbye to the castle and made for the north gate. The northern streets of Foulden were lacking in carriages, but had an abundance of refugees; more, even, than near the market square. They were spaced out in alleyways, or sitting on the street, asking passerby for coins to spare. Saul had but two silver to his name, so he trudged on, Anna in tow. He was where they were, once. All he could do was wish for them to have better luck than he did.

The north gate had a throng of people asking for entrance, and an equally sizeable number of guards keeping the peace. Outside the gate, on either side of the road, a sea of tents shivered with the wind. Anna had to remember to keep her head down as they passed through the checkpoint, the refugees yelling profanities while the guards yelled back. Saul had a guiding hand on Anna's shoulder the whole way through, and she was thankful for that.

Walking by road was more different than Anna expected. People were everywhere, for one; even after they passed the edges of the tents, there were more refugees coming from the north.

Anna murmured to him in passing. "Why are there so many? Are they all from Linwood?"

"Not all are from the fort. Some were displaced from smaller villages around the fort, and were forced to flee here."

"That's so sad... "

Saul pat her shoulder softly. "It is the way of the world, Anna." It happened to you, too. "But we help in the only way we can; by giving them their homes back."

Anna was pensive for most of the walk, turning the marble in her hands. More dull-eyed refugees walked past us toward Foulden, and the sun slowly crept toward the horizon.

They found a campsite just before nightfall, making a fire in a copse of trees. Too nervous to sleep, Anna stared out at the grass-covered hillsides, her mind running through everything that led to this point. She was startled by movement just out of the fire's light, which revealed itself to be two refugees. Anna called out to Saul as they approached, but the two arrivals proved to be amenable.

The oldest introduced herself as Cecil. She was in her late 20s, with a shock of red hair, and wearing a large pack that rattled when she walked. Her companion, Roland, was younger, but not by much, with a mousey face and a nervous attitude, and carrying a smaller pack. They said they were travelling south, and asked to share the fire, offering food as trade. Anna was nodding before Saul said yes, thinking of breaking the monotony of jerky and rabbit. The two strangers laughed at her enthusiasm, and Saul readily agreed.

As they pulled wrapped ingredients from their large packs, the two strangers gave a quick retelling of what they'd come from. "We were cooks at the fort before all this. They told us to cook for the soldiers, and we didn't mind the pay, until the demons tried an ambush by night. Once demons started jumping over the walls, everything went to-" Cecil glanced at Anna, "went bad. We fled in all the ruckus. Now we're hoping for a spot at Foulden."

Anna frowned at the mention of demons. She knew her kind was capable of something like that- she had ended up in Saul's care for a reason- but she never personally knew a demon that was capable of doing something that extreme.

Saul thought he'd share a bit. "We're heading north to meet up with the encampment."

Roland was surprised. "Really? Are you tradesman too?"

"... Of a sort. I mean to fight."

Roland chuckled, but his smirk fell off his face when he saw the look on Saul's face. "...You're serious." Cecil hit Roland on the shoulder.

Saul chuckled. "I have a talent that I can use to change the tide of a battle."

Cecil's eyes shined. "That's great! If you're still fighting at your age, it must be magic, right?" She paused. "No offense, of course."

Saul laughed. "None taken. Yes, I'm a magician. But-" He saw Cecil light up, "But! No magic tricks for tonight. I need to conserve mana. I might need to use it tomorrow, after all."

Cecil, nodded, slightly disappointed. "I understand. You're really going to fight tomorrow?" Anna heard the question and looked up at Saul, her expression unreadable.

Saul sighed. "Yes, those are my orders."

Roland smirked. "Good! That'll show those ash-eaters."

Saul gave him a sharp look. "I'll not have words like that at my fire. Understood?" Roland wilted under his gaze, murmuring his apologies.

Dinner was awkward. Anna liked the soup, though.