“You worry me more than everyone else, Casimir. From the moment they were born, your siblings have always had some understanding of what they were capable of. You are different and that truly scares me. I fear that you may suddenly awaken to an incomprehensible amount of power and fail to control it. It’s very well possible that you awaken without issue, but even I can’t say for sure. But there is one thing I am certain of… The moment you do awaken, I will be there right beside you.”

-Ira’s last conversation with Casimir before sending him out.

…

A day worth of traveling with the Ravenport’s didn’t earn Gwendolyn or Horace much rapport with Casimir. Unlike they would’ve thought, he remained silent unless he was directly spoken to.

Even as they finished setting up a temporary camp, Casimir didn’t go out of his way to say a single word.

“So, if I may ask...” Gwendolyn could no longer take it and began speaking while looking in Casimir’s general direction.

Casimir removed the pelt tied around his waist and shook it one good time before laying it onto the ground. He then began to remove his breastplate and his greaves.

“Ask away,” he finally spoke.

Gwendolyn didn’t detect any annoyance in his voice, so she immediately began to throw out the questions that had been plaguing her since she met Casimir. Horace watched from the side while stirring a pot of stew. He unconsciously sent many uneasy glances toward Casimir, still finding him to be too much of an unknown to get comfortable around.

“If you already have so much coin on your person, why remain as a brigand? I’m quite sure you had the minimum amount needed to sustain a rather comfortable life for at least a few months,” Gwendolyn said, her voice tinged with curiosity and excitement.

“I need enough money to purchase aura techniques and cultivation methods,” Casimir replied honestly before placing his halberd at the side of his makeshift bed.

“Oh?” Horace’s eyes reflected understanding as he nodded. “I must say, that is a rather expensive pursuit... Not only that, but it is quite hard to find a complete aura technique. Most of those techniques have been hoarded away by the very prominent martial families. Even when they do appear it's usually an incomplete fragment of an ancient technique rather than a complete version. I haven’t been to the City of Argos in nearly a decade, but the auctions were very frequent. If you’re lucky enough, you may be able to find one, but given the rarity of aura techniques, the coin you have on you won’t be enough.”

“I’m aware, old man.” Casimir lazily shrugged, “If I can’t buy it, I’ll just steal it.”

“Ah,” Gwendolyn gasped. “The number of sword masters in Argos is nothing to scoff at. Right, uncle?”

“That’s right and while they hold no real allegiance to anyone but they’ll band together if it means keeping order within the city.”

“That was ten years ago though, right?” Casimir asked skeptically.

“W-well… that is true, but the fact remains that-”

“A lot can change in a decade. You of all people should know that since you’re so old and all.” Casimir chuckled to himself.

Even Gwendolyn had to stifle a brief laugh but failed to do so as a look of betrayal crept onto her uncle’s face, though she had no way of seeing it.

“Hmph!” Horace huffed, before quickly continuing, “I’m not as old as you two may think. Especially, Gwendolyn, I don’t even wish to know of how you’re imaging your dear uncle in that head of yours.”

“Hmmm… I believe that my uncle is a very elderly man with a very strong spirit, even if he no longer has the body to quite match it.”

“You’re pretty much right,” Casimir said with a wide grin.

“Hey?!” Horace drew back in shock. “I guarantee that I’m younger than you would believe. It’s just that the decline of our family and territory has driven this miserable old man, that you dare to make fun of, into rapid aging. I'll have you know that stress is very much a factor.”

“Whatever you say.” Casimir laughed quietly before sniffing the air. “Since the food is done, why don’t you hand me a bowl?”

“Oh? And why should I, young man? Do you not fear that this old man may have accidentally slipped in a poisonous ingredient?”

“Uncle.” Gwendolyn showed a look of slight disapproval that tore right into Horace’s core.

Even though it was meant to be a joke, both Gwendolyn and Horace seemed to have some bad memory attached to the mention of poison.

“It's the least you can do since I’m acting as your guard on this trip,” Casimir interjected.

“Now, didn’t you have more questions to ask me?” He added.

Horace sent a thankful nod toward Casimir as he made his way over with a wooden bowl filled with stew.

“Thanks.” Casimir accepted it before drinking it down without hesitation.

“Easy, young man. You’d think you haven’t had a meal in days.”

“I haven’t… It’s been a week and a half since I’ve had something to eat.”

“Is that so? Well, you don’t seem any weaker for it.” Horace replied while bringing a bowl over to Gwendolyn.

“I have a strong body.” Casimir spoke in between gulps of the stew, “I’ve been told that I’m just like my father when he was younger.”

“Oh!” Gwendolyn exclaimed as she finally figured out her next question. “Family! Do you have any family, Casimir?”

“Yeah, I’m the youngest of eight children.”

“Eight? Goodness, that is quite a lot,” Horace commented as he ate his stew. “Gwendolyn is an only child and she was a handful when she was younger.” He laughed in reminiscence.

“Are your siblings… um…” Gwendolyn hesitated.

“They’re all alive if that’s what you wanted to know.” Casimir finished his food and returned the bowl to Horace before laying on the fur pelt.

“Well, do you know where any of them are?” Horace inquired.

“No, but I’ll be able to tell once they’re nearby.”

“How does that work exactly?”

“It’s just how it's always been... If we’re close to each other, we’ll definitely know.” Casimir put his hand over his chest and closed his eyes.

‘Who will I see first?’ He wondered. ‘How will we greet each other? Father did say that this is a competition after all.’

“If you’re done for the night, I would hate to continue to bother you,” Horace said aloud so that Gwendolyn was aware Casimir seemed to have wanted to sleep.

“Ah, I thank you for indulging my curiosity, Sir Casimir-”

“It’s just Casimir.”

“Right, thank you, Casimir.” Gwendolyn smiled.

Horace escorted her into the carriage before heading into his own tent nearby. The City of Argos was only a half day away and that time could be cut down even shorter if they departed around first light.

After a few hours, Horace awoke with a deep yawn.

In truth, he hadn’t slept much as he was too worried about Casimir suddenly changing his mind. As he stuck his head outside of the tent, it appeared his worries were all for naught and could only be a little regretful. After all, he would be driving the carriage for the next few hours and wanted to remain alert.

“Hmm?” Horace noticed that Casimir was nowhere to be found and quickly threw his armor on.

The first thing he did was check the carriage, feeling relieved to see that Gwendolyn was still sleeping soundly.

He discovered the horses were already fed and assumed Casimir to be the culprit. He finally relaxed, choosing to prepare for departure while waiting for Casimir’s return.

By the time the campsite was cleared, Casimir emerged from the woods.

“Did you sleep at all, young man?” Horace asked as he tightened the reins.

“As much as I needed to,” Casimir replied before stabbing the butt of his Halberd into the soil.

“Where were you off to so early?”

“Training.”

“I see.” Horace nodded.

“Are you both ready to leave?”

“Yes, I just need to check on-”

“I’m ready, Uncle.” Gwendolyn’s drowsy voice emerged from the carriage.

“Ah, then we’re all ready.”

“Alright.”

Casimir stored his halberd atop the carriage before climbing in while Horace took the reins. They soon set off toward the city of Argos without delaying a moment longer. Since there were a few hours to be spared, Gwendolyn decided to try her luck with discovering more about Casimir.

“Do you mind if I ask where are you from, Casimir?” Gwendolyn spoke softly, worried about perhaps crossing some line by carelessly questioning him.

“The City of Ir’rah,” Casimir answered.

“Bah, if you don’t wish to tell her then you should just say as much. No need to give sarcastic answers,” Horace grumbled.

“I’m telling the truth,” Casimir said in response, clearly indifferent to whether or not he was believed.

“The City of Ir’rah? I know of the myth.” Gwendolyn giggled softly before humoring him, “So, Casimir of Ir’rah, could you perhaps tell me of how your city is compared to any you’ve been to so far?”

“... It’s far darker, but a red moon hangs in the sky. The people would probably frighten you at first glance, but they’re very dedicated. Ah, they are also very religious.”

“I’m sorry, but what religion do they follow? Or rather, what figure do they worship?” Horace questioned.

“The being who they named the city after, Ir’rah,” Casimir replied with a warm gaze. Since neither Horace nor Gwendolyn could see it, it went unnoticed.

“Hmmm… I wasn’t aware there was a god involved with the myth. You may want to keep that to yourself, young man. Although the Church of Three has very little presence in and around Argos, they’re very prominent everywhere else.”

“What’s the Church of Three?” Casimir asked.

“You don’t know about the Church of Three, Casimir? The three paragons of the sky, the earth, and the sea?”

“Never heard of ‘em.” Casimir shrugged.

“Ah, well, while it isn’t mandatory you worship them, their presence is very big in Parahgaren’s Step. The church has been known to persecute followers of other religions quite extremely. I’d hate for you to find yourself at the end of a Saint’s blade.”

“You worried about my safety, old man?” Casimir laughed.

“Try not to disregard my warning, young man.” Horace insisted.

Casimir still couldn’t help but flash a smile. He wondered how the Church of Three would react if they discovered that there was an entity greater than any of their so-called gods that had settled on their world.

“You’ve asked me questions, now let me ask you one.” Casimir leaned forward, having his interest suddenly raised. “What are some of the myths about the City of Ir’rah?”

“Myths? Well… It is said that one can only reach Ir’rah through a fever dream or perhaps a terrible nightmare. Apparently, there was once a very small village of people who all shared the same exact dream. Catching glimpses of the mysterious city as well as having its name imprinted into their minds.” Gwendolyn responded before continuing on in a quiet murmur. “Indeed it is quite a strange myth.”

The journey continued smoothly, with Gwendolyn asking Casimir various non-invasive questions. Of all the things she asked, she found the strangest reply came from when she inquired about his favorite meal.

“You said they were called mooncakes?” She was full of curiosity toward the strange pastry Casimir described.

“Yeah and there’s nothing quite like them.” Casimir closed his eyes and smiled as he recalled the pastry treated as a delicacy among the citizens of Ir’rah. Though, in Casimir’s mind, the biggest consumer of the sweet pastry had to be his father.

“We’re coming up on the city of Argos, milady.”

“Wonderful! We should prepare the entrance fee, Uncle,” Gwendolyn spoke excitedly.

“Yes, yes… If I remember correctly, it was five silver if you’re in a group with less than five individuals. There’s also the stable fee which shouldn’t be more than a silver or two.” Horace mumbled to himself as he fished out a coin purse.

They slowly arrived at the front gates where the guards stood, waiting for the fee to enter the city.

“Ten silver,” One guard spoke as soon as the carriage approached.

“Ten silver?!” Horace nearly fell over as he responded.

“You hard of hearing, old man? Cough up the coin or get lost there are others waiting!”

“Ah...Um…” Horace turned toward the carriage. “Young man, could I perhaps trouble you for a few coins?”

“You serious?” Casimir raised an eyebrow. “I told you things can change in a decade.”

“Please, could you think of it as a temporary loan. As soon as we establish our trade contract we’ll have more than enough to pay you back,” Gwendolyn pleaded.

“Mhmm…” Casimir groaned before he stepped out of the carriage.

Upon seeing him, one of the guards eyes briefly widened before he regained his composure, acting as if nothing happened. Of course, Casimir took notice of the guard’s reaction but said nothing.

“I hope I’m not being cheated.” He spoke threateningly.

Although the guards dealt with many trouble makers, Casimir’s icy glare gave them cause to take his words seriously. Especially the guard who seemed to recognize him.

“We don’t dictate the price of entry into the city. That would be the trade coalition who adjusts it based on the population size as well as the state of the city’s economy.”

“I see.” Casimir took their words as truth before handing over the ten silver.

The trio entered the city without further issue, but Horace’s expression crumpled as he observed the state of Argos. It was no longer the warm city full of freedom and life he had seen ten years ago. It still seemed bright, but there was a grim air hanging over it. Shifty-eyed pickpockets, robbers, and criminal types seemed to be more present. There were also the general looks of unhappiness on the faces of the residents.

“How is it, Uncle?” Gwendolyn asked expectantly.

Casimir shook his head after hearing her speak, finding her to be a bit naive in some ways.

“It’s just as a beautiful as I remember, Gwendolyn,” Horace answered with a wry smile. He thought to at least try and protect his niece from the truth. After all, he felt that the current state of their family was depressing enough as is.

Whether Casimir knew Horace’s reasoning or not, he said nothing, simply closing his eyes and waiting for the carriage to arrive at the stables.

...

Outside the city gates, as soon as the guards rotated shifts, the one who reacted strangely to Casimir immediately ran into the city.

“What’s the rush?!”

“Hey?!”

People complained as he rushed past them, but he had no time for manners, apparently. After cutting through several back alleys, he arrived at a tall building. A large man without a single strand of hair on his head stood watch.

“Is Morrison in?!” The guard asked while breathing heavily.

“Yeah, he is.” The bald man replied, stepping aside so that the guard could enter.

The guard headed up the stairs and moved past other intimidating figures before arriving at a luxurious study with many jeweled and golden statues.

Morrison, a middle-aged man with short brown hair and an overall refined look about him peered up at the winded guard before returning his attention to a book.

“Speak.” The words rolled out of Morrison’s mouth smoothly.

“I found him!”

“I’ll need you to elaborate, I am looking for several men at the moment.”

“The black-haired sword master!” The guard spat out.

Morrison closed his book immediately and sat up straighter. His eyes narrowed and he resembled a hawk in that moment.

“When?” He seemed to growl.

“Not too long ago! A young man with black hair and yellow eyes came into the city with two others. An old man and a noble girl of some sorts I think.”

Morrison went into his desk and withdrew a paper with the image of a handsome young man with an aloof grin on his face. He showed it to the guard as he spoke.

“And you’re sure that this is what he looked like?”

“Yes…- Well, maybe his face was a little different, but he had black hair and yellow eyes that’s for sure!”

“I understand… You’ll be paid very well.”

“Thank you, Sir.” The guard bowed.

“Oh and I’ll send word along to the city guards captain, but I should warn you ahead of time. Make sure to stay away from the central marketplace this evening. I’ll be sending several sword masters to deal with this fellow.”

Morrison sank back into the chair as the guard left his room, but he couldn’t help but to glare.

“How arrogant of you to stroll back into this city after killing three sword masters, Valeryn.” Morrison clenched his fist tightly.

It seemed that Casimir was a victim of mistaken identity, but since he looked awfully similar to all of his brothers there’d be no correcting it.