“Wake up, little one.”

There were two inside of this magnificent carriage with its velvet cushions, carpeted bottom and even its gold-inlaid spokes. Currently though it was not on a leisure run. Two Thousand Day horses strained against their leashes as the carriage was pulled along. Two carriage drivers laughed and sang as the carriage barrelled to wherever it was heading to.

The man in the neatly trimmed white suit with gold edges spoke with barely any emotion to the boy asleep leaning against the window. The man’s hair was streaked with the same white of his suit and the black of his hair matched his gloves. The only thing that did not seem to match on the man’s clothing were the many coloured medals that were pinned on the chest of this uniform. Each medal shone a different soft colour, courtesy of the magic contained within each of them. The man in the suit was a waking armoury with the amount of medals on his chest.

The boy across from him, was almost the anthesis of the perfect man. This was because the boy was in what could only be called rags. Clothes that were kept together with patches and bad stitches. Yet that could not hide the ease with which the boy seemed to be asleep. The man would not break this act. Who could sleep when the cries of death came from outside and the thunder threatened all with its fury?

The little one wasn't really asleep entirely but the almost dry tone of the stern man made him snap to wakefulness almost at once.

“We’ll be reaching soon.” The Count wanted to say many things but then it was not in his nature to be forthcoming to anyone especially to ones such as this boy. Yet, despite his distaste for all involved in that incident he did not want to be quite like ‘himself’ to this wisp of a child. Still, there was not much that he could do. What he was doing was a gamble and one that was sure to backfire on him if his predictions came to naught. The degree of the damage to him and even the success of this depended on the actions of the poor child seated across from him. And now this was distasteful. Who ever thought that the Iron Winged General would require aid from a mere child. The very thought made him grimace inwardly. Being a gentleman, such behaviour was not encouraged or so he thought.

Thunder and lightning streaked across the evening sky, darkened to almost nightfall. The tumultuous sound was almost mirroring his own inner world. How did everything lead to this? With him in the middle of the fastest run of his life in his favourite carriage. And all of that was to cash in a favour of the highest order. Even if that wasn't enough, he had to pull those two idiots from their well earned vacations to guard him. He knew that those two oddballs wouldn't mind as they lived for the chaos. Those two idiots were even speaking of foolish things even now when silence was paramount. Was it really the best choice to have pulled these two for this job? The Count sighed. Sometimes beggars could really not be choosers.

“Hmm.” The child was a strange little thing, mused the Count as he heard the little one hum in acknowledgement. It was truly hard to determine how old the boy was due to those events that day. He looked waif like almost elfin without that supernatural good looks of that race. He was rather more akin to something more fragile, a little more prone to breakage rather than firmness as if he was made of porcelain rather than flesh. Yet, despite the apparent frailty, the Count could sense the strength. After all, any insect even from that event was a monster.

The plan hinged on this acknowledgement of hidden strength. Even that old coot of a Sensor agreed with the plan after all and he was more afraid for his life than anyone else the Count knew. What was important was not that alone. The Sensor tested the elemental affinity of the boy and despite all of the horrors of that event, the awakened element of the boy of the Radiant. Now, looking at those almost fragile features, the Count could see the light but he wondered, how strong that really was. That was because none of the elemental markers bled into the boy.

Where was the lighter hair, or brighter eyes? Where was the passion in his character and the open frankness which disgusted the Count? Nope, this child was of the Radiant and yet none of the markers, not even a single direct one seemed to be present yet the Sensor claimed that it was the light. Now this was the gamble. The Keepers of the arch would determine the success of the first half of this gamble. The end though would be fine as long as this first hurdle was passed.

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What seemed to have occurred as per the Sensor was that the child had forcefully ignited his soul, to allow for that smallest amount of light in the dark. If the child had awakened in an ordinary manner, he might have even had a great source to draw his strength from. Instead, all he had was a small candle where there should have been the sun.

“I will ask again, little one.” The Count needed to do this and he knew the answer before asking the question. Yet some things needed to be asked nonetheless. “Do you really understand the gravity of what choice you are going to make?” he had not intened to make his voice quite so stern but it came out that way. Still, the boy seemed to be not even slightly perturbed.

“I understand sir,” said the boy trying his level best to burn a hole through his own shoes, patched and worn as they were. Like everything that was his, including his life, was given to him by her. He might have looked like a beggar but this was his uniform for this challenge. He would not back down. Not now. That was why even the pressure of the military man could do little to him.

“Then, let us be clear. I am to hand over my responsibilities as your guardian to the Garden.” The Count levelled his gaze at the boy. The silence that followed this ensured that the boy lifted his face to meet those sharp eyes. “You’ll not be allowed to leave the Garden unless you either reach the majority age, join the Academy or die, whichever comes first.”

“Mhm-hm.” The humming was clear. He understood but was distracted a little. The sounds from outside were getting louder. The Count, angry now at those two idiots hit the sides of the carriage gently. The gentle tap was enough to stop the carriage drivers from speaking for a few moments but the overwhelming sound of the dying was soon down to a low drone.

“I can...I can foster you and let all of this go. It would be not much trouble for me. My wife has asked for a child for so long that my ears have been worn down already. You would not be hindrance to my plans and might even soothe her anger against me.” Pity was what moved the Count and it was guilt that wrote the words that he used. The count not because he knew that the child might give up on the gamble that the two of them were on. Rather, this was simply to soothe a guilty heart.

“The Garden will be home.”

The finality of that statement was almost heartbreaking for the listeners, even the ones that wanted to appear as though they did not listen to what was going on inside the carriage. The Count was the one who was most hurt though. That was because the boy was smiling as he said so. That smile was so wan, so desolate and he wanted to give this child a hug. Instead he reined those emotions in. There was no place for that here.

“Very well, survive this. Get some achievements, enough of them so that even the mouldy courts hear of your name. That is all the payment I ask for what I have done for you. If you die, then remember, my efforts would be for naught and this entire endeavour would be in my loss. This Count has never lost, not yet. So you better not die.”

The boy nodded. Their conversation was done and there was still almost a little over a hour to go before they reached their goal at the end of this road. That was where the first hurdle to get over this needed to be crossed. That was why in order to push the odds in his favour a little more, he wore the entire military uniform. That was also why there was a simple wooden cane with a griffin head handle, beside his seat.

“Aetos, Zyste, get to work. Those two will move soon. I would rather want to reach before they do that. You both know what the consequences of failure are right?” The Count spoke and then taking his cane into his hands, he tapped the bottom of the carriage twice and then sat imperiously with the cane in his hands. “See now the might of the army that faces the dark, little one. One day, you might be as strong as them.”

“Yessir,” two voices rang out. The path that they were taking was one of the perilous paths rarely taken by any who travelled due to this place being the hunting grounds of the Ash Wolves. Sadly as hunting these magic beasts were not really lucrative for the price offered, the colony of wolves were allowed to grow and now nearly three hundred followed the alpha now. That entire might was now on the carriage.

The two bodies were less like human beings but more like dark shadows. This was mostly due to the fact that the two of them were covered in large cloaks of black from head to toe. They had been listening to the talk between the Count and the boy but now was time to get to work. And so they did.