"Hey, Bell. Check this out. Turned out nice, didn't it? It was taking forever to dry, so I super-charged the Heat runes. Barely took any time at all. Did the same with the kiln."

Walking into the library, the first thing Kerv did was show Bellavarn his masterpiece. Looking at the smoothly sculpted rod displayed in Kerv's hands, the only thing going through Bellavarn's head is that there's a malfunction in reality.

Clay is a fussy material prone to explosions. No, correction. Implosions is a better term. A tiny pocket of air will pop while firing in the kiln, rupture the vessel. That's why the clay needs to be handled thoroughly before working.

Water makes the clay workable but also causes issues. More water: increased malleability and drying time with decreased stability. Trying to suck all the moisture out of clay in one fell swoop would undoubtedly cause a disaster.

What was held in Kerv's calloused hands was a product of dumb luck, beginners luck, dashed with a side of coincidence, miracle, and possibly the intrusion of mystical or magical interference.

A rod. A solid rod. Made of clay!

It was actually a baton, but it was thick as an arm.

It would have been a bitch to dry. Superheating faster was a rookie mistake that didn't always work the way you wanted it to, like cooking a chicken in the oven at a 4000 for one minute instead of 400 for an hour.

...Or something like that. Bellavarn never cooked a chicken before.

The point was that the act of superheating should have caused at least some irregularities in the structural integrity. He also had no idea if treating it with so much magic would have adverse side effects. It was a toss-up if the baton would survive a whack on the table.

"You should play dice with Potter."

Kerv made a face.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Bellavarn accepted the baton in both hands. It fell with his arms. After adjusting to the unexpected weight, he could tell it bisqueware. The color was ugly, but it was a functional thing.

"What it means, Kerv. Is that you have something better than the luck of the devil. I have absolutely no idea how you managed to get this done on your first try, let alone at all."

Hefting it, he felt it was too heavy to swing like a normal baton. It felt more like a maul than a baton.

"Will you even be able to swing this?"

"Hah, you're doubting a knight's strength? I tried to make it as dense as possible."

"You certainly achieved that."

"I was hoping you could make it heavier with your magical engineering. It is too light."

"You're joking."

Bellavarn performed a wobbly practice wing. He wasn't unathletic or untalented; he knew how to swing a bat. This hunk of solid earth was heavy.

"No. It really is light."

Kerv gestured with his hands in explanation.

"You know how knights are trained to run magic through their bodies? Well, it makes us faster and stronger for a time. Swinging that baton is doable for me without magical enhancement. When I end up fighting and running magic through my muscles, it will be like swinging a toothpick. That is why the heavier, the better."

Bellavarn handed the crude baton back. Kerv accepted it but turned his head when Bellavarn kept his hand extended.

"Hand me your sword."

"What?"

"Hand me your sword."

"You can't just ask that. A knight's sword is personal."

Bellavarn rolled his eyes when Kerv turned sideways, protecting his sword.

"I need to examine it. To feel the weight. I heard a Knight's sword is tailored to the Knight. If that is true, I can study the enchantments and I can copy most of them onto the baton, making my life easier."

Kerv narrowed his eyes.

"You won't mess with Beth?"

"Beth?"

"Yeah, you won't damage the enchantments by prying, will you?"

Bellavarn ran a hand down his face.

"No. I won't harm Beth or her accouterments. I promise."

Kerv eyed him a moment longer before unclipping Beth and handing the sword over reverently.

After picking his hands back off the ground, Bellavarn examined it closer. A shortsword with an ocean blue pommel, blue-green wrapping around the handle, and a silver hand-guard. Sheathed in a more mundane, muddy brown abode, the real sparkle lay on the blade. Just pulling the edge out a few inches was enough for Bellavarn to marvel.

Only the best blades got enchanted and only flawless metal could be used to forge a knight's weapon. Bellavarn had no experience blacksmithing, but even he could tell this was a marvelously made blade. From one crafter to another. The runework alone was mesmerizing. The leylines of power were invisible. Only when holding his hand on the pommel could Bellavarn sense the true depth of magic. It was nothing like the baubles he was making.

"I sincerely doubt I can copy this. No. It is impossible. I need years more experience to get to this level. If I tried to copy it, half the mansion would explode, and you'd be down one Ducal heir."

"You're not serious."

"Completely. Based on my knowledge, I understated. This blade was made for this enchantment and vice-versa. If it were attached to anything else, the immense mana hiding inside would cause a catastrophic cascade of calamity."

"You are just using fancy words to scare me."

"I am. But my statement stands. I can't copy this. Here. Take it back. My arms are sore."

Kerv grabbed his sword from Bellavarn's shaking arms.

"I will try to come up with something more my style. Are you sure you want this baton to be your final piece? You don't want it made of metal?"

Kerv twirled the baton experimentally. Sizing it up.

"Nah, I made this. It suits me. If it were metal, It wouldn't be the same."

Bellavarn nodded, hands-on-hips.

"Alright. It will take some time for me to come up with the right enchantments. In the meantime, glaze it. I showed you how to use the glaze, right?"

"Yeah. I remember painting the cups. Did they finish cooking?"

"They are cooling off still. I ran the glaze fire before you decided to super-cook your rod."

Kerv snorted a laugh.

"I look forward to sharing a drink together."

"I'll be sipping fruit juice. You can get drunk yourself."

"As long as you swap cups with me when your parents walk in. Can't have them thinking I am drinking on the job."

Bellavarn moved back around his desk, deadpanning.

"You wrote your name on it."

Kerv winced.

"Ooh... Yeah, maybe that wasn't my smartest decision."

Bellavarn shook his head, sitting back down. As long as Kerv didn't write his name on the baton...

Kerv wandered over to a short bookshelf nearby, something catching his eye. Leaning down, he noticed the first prototype resting on top.

"Is this thing finished? I can sense mana in it?"

Glancing up from his new work briefly, Bellavarn half-responded.

"Mhm. Prototype. Failure. It works but isn't practical. Henry gave me some advice."

"Henry's back? When? Why didn't he say anything?"

"You were busy."

"Gone an entire week and doesn't even care to drop by..."

Kerv grumble. He started to walk out. Bellavarn stopped his etching, calling out.

"We are all going to the charity in an hour. April wants to volunteer. You and Henry can catch up while riding in front with Nem."

Kerv drooped. His coach privileges just evaporated.

=

April tapped her foot, gazing out the window.

"Are you alright, April?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She looked out the window. Bellavarn examined her from his side of the coach.

"I assume you know what joining me in public means."

"People can see me any way they wish."

"You say that now, but it worries me. Your image is a blank canvas. You can be anything, but if you walk out with me, people will color you in the same shade as me."

"I said it is fine. You needn't worry."

April crossed her arms, unliking the atmosphere.

"If there is something else bothering you, I'll listen."

April thought he would continue prodding, but he unexpectedly ceased. It made her feel conflicted.

Truth be told, April was upset. She forgot to bring along her gift. This would have been a perfect time, but it got moved around, and it slipped her mind. It was a silly thing to be upset over, but she'd been practicing the right words all last night. Now they were useless. She would forget them before her next chance.

Bellavarn said he'd listen. But there really isn't anything to talk about. What was she supposed to say?

I am angry because I am unable to give you my handkerchief. I was looking forward to seeing your smiling face and to start courting you for real. Not to mention all my practice in front of the mirror went to waste.

The Mini-Aprils tossed the option in a trash can, lit it on fire, and warmed their hands on the burning remains of that insane idea.

"There is a time for everything, Maestro Lemmings. It needn't be now."

April turned, staring wide-eyed Bellavarn.

"Isn't that from The Fated Vestige?"

Bellavarn smirked

"I finished it late last night. It was enjoyable watching the two main characters' antics. Nothing ever got done."

April pulled an entire 180. Forgetting her previous woes.

"Right! I was disappointed that the author didn't develop the plot with the evil half-sister. I am hoping for a sequel, but the book is several years old now, so I don't think it will happen."

"Don't be so sure. It can happen. Even if they don't, someone else can write a sequel if they want."

"Those are never any good. They can never capture the author's style."

"There is always Fan Fiction."

"What is fan fiction?"

Bellavarn's eyes bugged out. April received a sense of dark foreboding and gulped.

=

Kerv shivered, chattering through his teeth.

"You're all skin and bones Nem, how do you stay alive up here?"

"Nem is average. You are the lanky one, Kerv."

Kerv tried to glare, but he bit his tongue and winced.

"Circulate your mana. Why are you suffering? Nem is the one who has to tough it out."

"Conditioning. Training. I've grown soft."

"I won't deny that."

"Shut it, Henry.

Nem sat awkwardly between the two, unable to get a word in edgewise. Sighing, he looked up at the distant clouds. He missed the silence...

=

"Why aren't you wearing a jacket, Kerv? Are you an idiot?"

Bell waved an arm dramatically, glaring. Kerv held both arms around himself in a futile attempt at stabilization. Bellavarn turned to Henry.

"And you indulged him? Aren't you supposed to be his better half? Why are you wearing two jackets?

April peered out from behind a reprimanding Bellavarn. Curious about the scene. Was this common?

"Kerv insisted he was fine, master Bellavarn."

"I-I-I'm f-fine. S-s-see?"

April giggled. Bellavarn smacked his face. The air was cold, but it suddenly dropped several degrees.

"Kerv."

Kerv froze. Not literally, but he stopped shivering. Bellavarn's tone was frosty.

"Now is not the time."

There was a moment's pause before Kerv started steaming. Smoke rising off him, the frost evaporated, and his skin returned to a normal color. His gaze straightened, becoming more serious. April stared, dumbfounded.

"Give me my jacket, Henry."

Kerv thrust on his jacket. Standing at attention. Henry copied him.

"Good. Now organize the other guards."

"Understood."

"Understood."

They moved off. Bellavarn watched them for a moment, speaking aside to Nem.

"Sorry for sticking them with you. I should have made them ride on the wagon instead."

The wagon trailing behind carried the rest of the volunteers and the equipment they needed to set up. April watched the people file out. There were five maids and five other servants. There were ten guards too. They carried foldable tables, tarps, rope, and other supplies. They set up swiftly—a medium-sized canopy hoisted into position, shielding six tables.

Looking around, April noticed a decent crowd already loitering some distance away. Men, women, the elderly, a few children, and traveling paupers. Homeless. Some look starved.

April never noticed it before. She wasn't allowed out often aside from work, and her own entourage quickly escorted her from such sights. They were absent since having them in the presence of the young Duke would be redundant. The way that guard, Kerv, showed off his mana by completely heating himself up. It was clear they were a cut above her own guards. The maids seemed more professional too.

Watching everyone smile and talk to each other was what threw her off. The guards. The maids. The servants. An old man who looked like a gardener. They all spoke to one another, worked together, and smiled. Looking back to Bellavarn talking with Nem. She could feel the driver emanating content.

Ahh. I wish...

"Hm. Oh. I'm so sorry, April. I've been prattling on while ignoring you. Sorry, Nem, I hope your son passes the knight exam. Keep me updated."

"Will do, master Bellavarn."

"Alright, April, why don't I show you how things work. Follow me."

"Right."

She half forgot she would be helping. Walking in step with Bellavarn, they went to the first table that was set up. It held a paper spell circle laid out flat on top, covering a third of the table. At the corners were thin poles that supported a square roof.

"Ester. Denise. Wilson. This is April. April. Starting from the left, this is Ester, Denise, and Wilson."

Denise was the maid who liked tea, right? Ester was clearly another maid. The boy, Wilson, was young. He was a servant of some kind. April nodded at them.

"A pleasure."

"Greetings, Lady April."

The three spoke the same words in different tones.

"Can you guys demonstrate how things work for April?"

"Of course, master Bellavarn. Here, let me grab some extra stinkweed."

Wilson spent a few seconds grabbing several long weeds that shared similarities to overgrown grass blades. April could smell it from several feet away. Her nose wrinkled.

"It does smell. Tastes worse. I've tried it on a dare when I was a child. It is a miracle Master Bellavarn re-invented the process of treating it."

April thought the boy looked too young to be speaking of childhood like it was a thing of the past. Then again, she was still only 19...

One of the maids, Ester, moved closer to the table.

"The process is simple; anyone can do it provided with this setup."

Wilson placed a single stalk in the center. Ester continued, pointing.

"The two spell circles superheat the weed in a short burst. A different person can power each, but it is better for it only to be one person; the heat will become unbalanced otherwise. Denise actually has the most mana of the three of us, so I'll let her power it."

Ester jerked a thumb in Denise's direction. Bowing her head, Denise paced forward. She rested her palms on two conducting runes—one under the table and one on top of the square roof. The circles glowed a teal blue, humming, as Denise activated both.

*Tsss*

"Uck."

April held her nose and wanted to cover her ears. The smell was atrocious, easily double the previous nasal damage. The sizzling was akin to a screeching fish, muffled and high-pitched. And watching it was something else entirely. Seeing it shrivel and writhe in agony was nightmare-inducing.

Her left hand wrestled with indecision, unable to decide on an action. Cover her ears to block the noise. Cover her eyes to block the sight. Cover her mouth in disgust. Ultimately it went to her stomach. The traitorous organ roiled and revolted. Luckily it decided breakfast was worth retaining.

Examining the others, they all seemed used to it, except for a scowling Ester.

"It always throws a fit worse than a squealing pig. Sure as hell doesn't taste like bacon.

Bellavarn half-snorted, half-scoffed in amusement.

One Mini-April was wondering if a maid should be so carefree with her words. Another was staring sidelong at the monitor because of Bellavarn's odd sound. The rest of the Mini-April posse were pulling levers and fail-safes, closing ducts, and dumbing down sensory inputs. One was dressed up in a paper boy's uniform handing out clothespins like they were the latest gossip section. All the Mini-April's clamped their noses shut.

"You get used to it. Plus, that shriveled snack tastes ten times better than it did previously."

"...I can't imagine."

Ester folded her arms.

"What Bellavarn means is that even if it is ten times better, it still tastes like shit."

"I wouldn't use those words, but it doesn't taste good."

April looked to Bellavarn.

"Then why do people eat it?"

"Because they are starving. This is a consistent meal and high in calories. Catching a rat is more difficult than pulling weeds and bringing them here. Eating worms or bark is not nearly as nutritious. It has been a bad winter for many. The people I've managed to converse with say this is average."

April didn't know what to say to that other than the obvious. If starving was average, then what was worse? The few ideas that popped in her head didn't seem plausible.

Bellavarn exhaled, his breath visible.

"I wouldn't recommend eating it if you aren't starving. It is a novelty, though. Would you like to try a bite?"

April would rather do anything else but accepted for the sport of it. Bellavarn has eaten it, and it appeared most present have as well.

Wilson pulled out a small bottle.

"We usually sprinkle a pinch of sugar on it for the children."

He pulled out a second smaller jar. Bellavarn added to Wilson's words.

"I recommend a bit of honey, it makes it more palatable. The texture is a little like Nori mixed with hardtack."

April didn't know what those were, but judging from Bellavarn's face, they were probably both disgusting. Willson brushed a few drops of honey over the edible and handed it over. April made an unladylike face and held her breath as she bit into it.

Bellavarn laughed.

"Your face says it all. We've all made that face. Denise's was the funniest so far, replacing Kerv at the top of the leaderboards."

"You joke, Master Bellavarn."

"It was a shame I couldn't see it. I would have given up a week's wage. I was there when Kerv tasted it, and his face had me rolling."

Ester grinned with all her teeth. Denise was unamused. A tinge of red could be seen in her cheeks, but she held herself back, probably used to the teasing by now. Wilson didn't have the guts to join in.

"Well. I tasted it. It is awful. But if it helps people survive, I'd like to help. Can I join you all?"

The trio smiled in their own ways. It appeared eating that disgusting treat earned April some points. The honey helped. Imagining eating the treated stinkweed without it gave her goosebumps.

There was a shout from the forming line, making heads turn. Bellavarn waved his hand.

"It's alright. The guards will keep the peace. I'll go and check just to be sure. April, you can try powering the circles, see how many you can do. "

April pumped her fists. Determined to do at least ten, no, twenty!

"Okay. Will do."

=

The shouting was handled easily. Bellavarn didn't even need to step in. He returned quickly, talking to the others, checking the spell circles, and then spent some time with April. She didn't realize how much the process drained mana. She was only able to do it twice before needing to take a breather. That she was able to do that much already put her slightly ahead of the curve. Bellavarn could barely do one at first. Two is his current limit.

Having the people supply the mana and supplementing it with the staff's and guard's was necessary. It wouldn't run as smoothly otherwise. The people couldn't do it by themselves, and it was impractical for the staff to wait for their mana reservoirs to refill and continue to supply the entire populace.

The method he thought up couldn't be used widespread. However, it was a good idea for emergency rations. The process is perfect for the army filled with magic practitioners. If they ran out of food, they could supplement themselves on the march.

Bellavarn looked away from his conversation with April when another ruckus started over in the middle of the line. He thought it would end quickly again.

He was wrong.

Two older men got into a brawl. A guard went to break it up but was punched in the scuffle. A few friends of the men jumped it, escalating the situation.

Bellavarn called out.

"Kerv! Break it up."

Kerv trooped over with a few more guards. Entering the conflict.

Again, Bellavarn thought that would be the end of it, but the chaos spread. More people got mixed up, the elderly and women. The guards couldn't separate everyone and were limited to mostly non-violent action.

Bellavarn began worrying when more people jumped in. The previous indifference of the crowd shifted to worry. Then to fear. Then to panic.

A mob scrambled. To get food or get away.

More guards joined only to get lost in the confusion. The staff members backed away, lest they get caught up. Bellavarn attempted to order everyone back, but his voice was lost in the clamor. Moving instead, he rushed forward, pulling the guards back himself. In the action, he became entangled in the mob.

Everything spread, and soon, the entire area was a brawl.

It all escalated from nothing apparent. Bellavarn didn't even know what started it, but it was already out of control.

Screaming and punching. Elbowing. Trampling others underfoot. Injuries.

Where is Kerv? Henry?

Bellavarn took his share of hits, getting bruised while searching. All the guards looked similar in their armor. Deciding to go one by one, he pulled at the nearest.

"Jeral! Enough! Retreat and protect the staff!"

Jeral started when he noticed Bellavarn was in the crowd. He shouted an affirmative over the din of noise and extricated himself.

Bellavarn searched and searched but couldn't find Kerv. They needed to get everyone out of here. They could try again later. Come back with better security... countermeasures. He would make it safe next time-

Bellavarn saw a glint in the mob. Kerv was nowhere to be seen, and the others were tied up as is. A figure pushed his way towards April. She'd been caught in the mess.

There's no time.

"Tch."

April bumped into something solid and turned around. Bellavarn's silhouette cast her in shadow. Her previous panic faded. The cacophony lessening

Bellavarn looked over his shoulder with a calm smile.

"Are you alright, April?"

She felt a beat in her chest.

A small nod.

"Mm."

Her heart calmed. The madness that continued to spread havoc fell into the background. Bellavarn: a wall between chaos and order.

"I am glad... Why don't you leave me to take care of this?"

April came back to herself.

"Ah. Okay..."

Bellavarn watched April retreating safely. She arrived next to Ester and Denise at the carriage. Nem was organizing how many people could fit in the coach. An evacuation.

With April now out of harm's way...

"You."

Bellavarn changed completely. Dark and ominous. His voice guttural. Demonic.

Craning his head back around, he looked down at a panicking man trying to flee. Bellavarn's hand clasped the man's wrist in a vice. The connection quaking.

Stage silent. A moment just for the two of them.

Plopping drips stained the dark cobblestone a rust-red.

Bellavarn leaned in close, the whites of his eyes visible. Hair falling in front of his face, casting harsh shadows.

The man quivered. He needed to run. He was going to die. He was going to die!

The attacker's entire body trembled, trying to push the knife deeper, or retract it.

"What do you think you're doing..."

The blade in Bellavarn's stomach rattled.

"...attempting to harm a Lady?"

The threat pushed the man over the edge. The hand released the dagger, so Bellavarn let go.

The man scrambled away.

"Bell!"

Bellavarn could hear Kerv pushing through the crowd as the assailant scurried. Bellavarn felt hot and woozy. His vision was swimming from the pain. The raucous of the mob rushed back in, overstimulating.

"Bell! Are you alright?"

Kerv paused to take in a rigid Bellavarn. Sweat dripped down his face to fall on the ground, mixing with blood.

Kerv bristled. He failed. Became complacent.

"Henry! Catch that man. Jeral! Get over here and help me with Bellavarn. We need to get him out of here."

"Kerv."

Bellavarn's voice was a whisper in the ruckus.

"You're fine, Bell. You'll be okay. Let us get you back to the mansion and the doctor. "

"Kerv. Stop."

"Bellavarn, we need to-"

"Kerv!"

He paused. Bellavarn's sternness compelled him. Kerv looked at his Lord, his ward, his friend, with a mixture of confusion and panic. Bellavarn's gaze transitioned between steady and lost. He panted as his fists clenched and unclenched. Jeral pushed his way over to help after having assisted Lady April.

April paused in climbing the carriage, gazing back at Bellavarn's standing figure. A pillar of solidarity in a writhing mass of chaos. She didn't hear his words as she retreated inside—As Nem spurred the horses.

Bellavarn sucked in breath.

"A Duke... creates his image."

Kerv gave Bell a bewildered look.

"Bell, this isn't the time for one of your quotes-"

"I choose. I do! I choose... to paint my own picture."

Panting, then a deep inhale, Bellavarn puffed out his chest. A command. Unwavering. Unbreachable.

"Behind me! Kerv! Jeral!"

They straightened. Separated from panic. Bound and compelled, they marched to stand behind a master worth their loyalty. A second passed. Two. Three. Bellavarn looked out at the crowd of common folk who only wanted a meal. A people starving from a long winter. Trying to retrieve whatever scraps they could.

Bellavarn opened his mouth to speak when his head started splitting.

Kill them.

Pushing. Shoving.

They deserve death!

Chains clinked and rattled.

They did this! Them! Kill them all!

Punching. Kicking. Squirming. Crying.

Vision blurry. Pain. Stomach. Head.

Chains.

KILL THEM!

Eyes on his back.

Raising an arm into the air, he snapped a spell scroll.

*SNAP*

All present winced at the resounding snap. Covering their ears.

Kill them.

"ENOUGH!"

His voice reached them through the momentary lapse of commotion. The commoners turned to see Bellavarn, glaring menacingly.

They wanted to paint him as the villain? No! He wouldn't allow it!

Bellavarn roared.

"Are you so desperate you refuse to wait another minute to feed yourselves? You would harm your neighbors and fellows to gain a meal a few seconds sooner? You would throw away your chance at your next meal for one-time scraps!"

They would. They haven't eaten in days. Some had children starving at home. Some were children. How could they wait a moment longer? A noble who never starved a day in his life could never understand such despair and hunger!

"YOU WOULD BITE THAT FEEDS YOU!"

The crowd started to shout obscenities and curse the noble caste. Greedy and self-absorbed, the entirety. Nobles watched from windows without action as their people starved. Nobles walked the streets that they paved, giving them dirty glances like starvation was their fault. Nobles hoarded food while turning away desperate families at the door.

They cried out their displeasure at the evil noble.

The despicable Sallow.

The Wicked Bellavarn.

The... The one that was feeding them.

The one that finally answered their calls.

The one who prepared food himself.

Sobering faces. Their reddened tunnel vision opened. In their minds, they were scrutinizing the sneering face of an arrogant noble.

The vision shattered as they saw Bellavarn. A noble. Wielding a face of anguish and frustration. An expression of compassion. Of... understanding?

How? How did he know their pain? How could he?

Bellavarn breathed deeply and staggered. Some wanted to take advantage of the situation but couldn't when they saw the weapon protruding from Bellavarn's gut.

"He's injured."

"Someone stabbed him!"

"We'll all be hung."

Harming a noble? Attacking them outright? The entire crowd would be executed as an example. They would all die. Their families would starve. They would-

*Shlick*

Gasps escaped the crowd as Bellavarn removed the shiv. He staggered. Blood spurted, dripping. The guards standing behind him twitched forward. Then halted. A secret word and they were back to standing resolutely behind their Lord.

Bellavarn straightened. Speaking loudly. He could no longer see who he was talking to. He just spoke with whatever escaped his heaving lungs.

"You will not starve! Everyone will get a turn. So..."

A deep intake of breath. A barking command.

"GET BACK IN LINE!"

Scurrying.

Order.

A line was formed without prodding. Some walked off, but the rest returned to their positions, not complaining if they were farther behind. The remaining staff looked on in bewilderment. The guards took up positions.

Bellavarn exhaled.

"Good..."

"Bell!"

"...I leave the rest to you."

Falling.