“I greet the master of the manor, Lord Silver.”

Lord Silver's expression was pleasantly stunned as he looked at Evander.

"Any notable events?" he said in a monotone voice.

Evander's eyes blazed with enthusiasm. "Indeed, my lord. Young Lukas showed an avid interest in swordsmanship.

He watched the knights with intrigued attention, as if imagining himself within their ranks."

Lord Silver's awe developed into a proud grin. "Ah, the essence of an aspiring knight. Keep nurturing that interest,

Evander. Lukas- no, our land's fate may depend on it."

Lord Silver remained settled in deep reflection. The thought of giving something special to Lukas lingered in his mind, causing him

to look into several ideas. Eventually, an idea came up: it was a small ornamental blunt sword, a symbol of respect and valor,

made specifically for Lukas.

Lord Silver turned to Evander, who stood close, and asked his advice.

"Evander," he said, motioning for his loyal knight to remain. "What do you think of the idea of gifting Lukas with a

small ornamental sword? Do you believe it would be an appropriate present for a young boy?"

Evander nodded in agreement. "An outstanding choice, my Lord," he said. "Such a gift will not only bring joy to

young Lukas but also encourage him to follow the noble values of knighthood."

Lord Silver's grin grew as he received Evander's vote of faith. With a focused goal, he immediately started the preparations

for the ornamental sword, anticipating the happiness it would bring to Lukas' heart.

The next day arrived, and Lord Silver left the estate then when he entered the bustling streets, murmurs followed him. It was an unusual sight to see the respected lord leave the perimeter of his manor. However, he paid little attention to the strange looks that followed him as he made his way to the local smithy.

When Lord Silver entered the familiar shop, he was greeted with a friendly grin by the blacksmith, who radiated an aura of an old friend. With a gesture of acknowledgment, he asked for a little ornamental sword for his son Lukas. The blacksmith assured him that it would be a simple work, promising to complete it swiftly.

"Thank you, my friend," Lord Silver said, his voice tinted with nostalgia.

The blacksmith paused, his eyes expressing deep thanks.

"It's the least that I can do," he stated genuinely. "After all, you were there for me when my family and I were in desperate circumstances during the time of drought. If it weren't for your kindness, we wouldn't be here today."

Lord Silver's gaze softened as he remembered their shared history, and they exchanged a wordless acknowledgment. As he got ready to depart, the blacksmith gave a comforting smile.

"Take it easy, Leofric," he murmured gently, addressing Lord Silver by his first name with courtesy and reverence.

"I'm going to handle this swiftly for you."

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Leofric made his way back to the manor, his steps driven as he walked the familiar route to his manor. The air around

him was filled with people's murmurs, their voices rising and falling in a smooth pace as they went about their normal lives.

The silver lord hesitated at the entrance, taking some time to gather his ideas before entering. The ambiance within the

manor was alive with activity, with the teeming energy of the household servants adding vibrancy to the environment.

As he walked into his office, he was drawn to the picture close to his desk—a priceless moment preserved in time,

reminding him of the joy and hope that overwhelmed his heart, the day that Lukas was born.

Looking at the picture, Leofric made an earnest decision to support his child in every way possible, developing him to grow into an exemplary knight and an integral part of their family's legacy. He knew that one day, Lukas would inherit the Silver estate, and he was determined to prepare him for the responsibility.

Shaking himself free of his trance, Leofric resumed his concentration to the paperwork that awaited him. Hours passed

as he diligently performed his duties, the vow that he had made to Lukas never vanished from his mind.

As the afternoon progressed, a servant knocked on the door, requesting permission to enter. Leofric permitted it,

and the attendant entered the room, holding a sword smaller than a dagger wrapped in fabric.

"My lord," he said, "this arrived from the local smithy. It seems you may have ordered it."

Leofric's eyes shone with anticipation as he accepted the present. He carefully unwrapped the fabric, revealing

the small ornamental sword; blunt, but a finely forged symbol of honor and courage made for his son.

Leofric held the little sword in his hands, its size resembling a toy. Placing it next to a picture of his family on his desk, he found comfort in the sight of both, a physical reminder of his dedication to his son's path. With the sword and his family's portrait in front of him, Leofric reaffirmed his determination to help Lukas in any way he could.

He ordered the servant and demanded his son's presence in his office. Once the word was delivered, Leofric dismissed the attendant, and his anticipation of Lukas' arrival rises. He thought of a not-so-good intent.

“Should I test his willpower first?”

As Lukas and Vance played in the courtyard, their laughter ringing over the stone walls, a servant came upon them with courtesy.

"Young master Lukas," the servant bowed politely, "your father has requested your presence in his office."

Lukas looked at Vance, a confused expression on his face. "I wonder what Father wants," he said aloud,

his mind already spinning with ideas.

Vance nodded in agreement and said, "Let's go find out, Lukas."

As they approached the office, Vance was cautiously stopped at the entrance by the attendant and requested to wait outside.

Lukas took a deep breath, his pulse racing with uncertainty, before entering the room alone.

Inside, his father's presence was evident, engulfing every area. Lukas fought to find his voice, and his words came

out awkwardly and stutteringly.

"I-I'm here, Father,"

Lukas said, barely discernible. His legs felt weak, and tears wanted to flow from his eyes, but he remembered the

knight stories he had read with Vance. They preached courage in the face of hardship, of staying firm even when terror grabbed the heart.

Lukas straightened his posture, gathering all of his willpower, his tear-filled eyes met his father's with recognition and conviction.

Lukas was startled when there was a commotion outside the office, which rose louder. He strained to hear the

conversations beyond the locked doors, the sound of a woman's serious rant ringing down the corridor.

Thalia went to intercept the woman, her words a calming contrast to the woman's rage, but she pushed past her with tenacity.

With a thunderous crash, the office doors swung open, showing Lord Silver at his desk, startled.

Before Lukas could realize what was going on, a flying book struck his father in the face, knocking him to the floor. The woman came forward, her rage prominent, grabbing Leofric by the shirt, her voice shaking with fury.

"What did I tell you about testing Lukas, ha?!" she shouted, her voice filled with rage. "For the love of God, he's still a child!"

Leofric attempted to justify himself, stuttering in response. "B-but darling it was just a bit!

An amount that a small animal wouldn't even pass out from!"

The woman scoffed, shaking her head in shock. "Oh, please, don't get me started on this."

Lukas, still rubbing his eyes from the tears, experiencing difficulties to recognize the chaos developing before him.

As his eyesight cleared, Lukas recognized the lady standing before his father, her face distorted with rage.

With a shaky voice, he asked the lady a question, while confused and surprised.

"Mother?"