Mabel paced in her greenhouse, the dirt was worn and soft on her bare feet. She would never let anyone see her like this, a white linen nightgown, no shoes, and her hair looked like it had its own spirit. Truth be told, it was usually her favourite time of day. Today however, the sun had barely started coming up and she had already received two pigeons and a surprise hawk from the Land of the Suns.

She watered a few of the plants, and rubbed a silky basil leaf between her fingers.

The first pigeon’s message had been the most disturbing.

‘Lost 3. Sylvie is in dungeons. Hoard size of 50. Mercenaries?’

The second had been a very overfed albeit pretty brown pigeon, with a message from the neighbouring nation of Hallr.

‘Please Mabel join us for the annual concert. You will be delighted to see how our numbers have grown. Yours, Helmut.’

The last message, from the majestic hawk- who she had to keep away from the pigeons- had been a current status update from Ostenia, better known as the Land of the Suns.

‘Our Beastlings are restless, wyverns seem nervous. Romilda giants slowly growing their population. Current Chieftain very open to trade. How goes Azuren? Greetings Heike.’

Romilda was the vast nation that separated Hallr from the Land of the Suns. Arguably the ‘wildest’ of the nations, its plain fields seem to be never-ending. Its huge size and mixed population made it difficult to rule over. Despite this, it was a relatively peaceful nation. Romilda had far more monsters than Azuren and Hallr combined, which was maybe the reason why the mixed population got along so well; they needed to look out for one another.

Mabel rubbed her temples and sighed, she would start with the easiest and move up to the hardest task. But first breakfast. She grabbed some jasmine flowers just as her kettle began to whistle inside. The little white flowers looked lovely in her mug, and almost instantly let off a soothing aroma. She liked her bread cut thick, crispy crusts with soft middles, that she generously slathered with butter. To top it off, a thin dripping of honey, and a pear on the side. A good breakfast could help even the most stressful of mornings end well.

She took the end crust of the bread and broke it off in little pieces. The fat brown pigeon would be first. ‘Darling Helmut, happy to hear about the numbers. We will need them. Had a random(?) orc attack. Will check in soon, but will not make concert. Will try to send my niece in my place. Kindest, Mabel.’

The pretty pigeon just kept staring at her. “Fine, fine, take one more piece,” as she ripped off another rather large crumb. Satisfied, the pigeon flew off in the direction of Hallr.

Mabel finally sat down with her large tea and bread at her table when she heard a familiar sound. A woman, a donkey, and a cart. This seemingly normal combination would be fine; however, it was the hermit Frida, pulling a cart, with her geriatric donkey ‘Earl’ sitting in it. Mabel sighed for what seemed like the tenth time this morning.

“Boars breath Frida, can’t you have one of your other rescues pull the cart? We aren’t young damen anymore.”

“Good morning, Mabelchen. Earl doesn’t like the way the others pull the cart,” Frida replied nonchalantly.

She plucked a leaf out of one of the many of trees, and added it to her collection in her hair.

Mabel took a sip of her now lukewarm tea, mumbled a spell under her breath to light the fire under the kettle, and stood up to hug her old friend.

She smelled of earth and moss, not the rotting type, but the fresh after the rain sort of smell. Mabel stepped back and took Frida’s hands in her own. The skin was so cracked it was open in many areas and she thought some of it looked swollen.

“My dear, you must take better care of yourself. Look how well you take care of your pets.” Earl did look rather sprightly. He had jumped out of the cart and was munching on fresh grass like a young donkey. “If you spent half as much time on yourself,” Mabel tsked but not unkindly. She looked closer at the hands, definitely a slight infection.

“Do they hurt?”

Frida looked down, shrugged and nodded.

“Well good thing you are here. The old cast iron tub is freshly full of water. You go light the wood under it, and while we wait for it to heat, you can eat with me.”

Frida searched her pockets, “I am not sure I have enough presents with me.”

For every one gift someone gave her, she would always give two in return. Mabel opened her mouth to argue but knew it was pointless. “I’m sure you will find something.”

Ten minutes later they were both licking their fingers clean from the delicious honey bread.

“What do you think about Sylvie?”

“I don’t know much about the city folks, but that Colonel is dangerous. He stabbed an Elf-hu after the battle.”

Mabel’s tea spilled in her lap. She hopped up brushing the hot liquid off her now soiled linen nightgown. “What did he do?”

“I couldn’t see everything. I was with Jerry…” she paused looking at Mabel’s blank stare. “You know Jerry, my beautiful pig.”

“The blind one? It’s amazing he’s still alive.”

Frida glared, “Hardly, he’s still the best at finding the shrooms. Anyways, he smelled the orcs and we both heard the battle, and after the Elf-hu dismounted Sylvie’s horse, the horse stood on the side watching- he’s a smart horse, isn’t he? We just kept him company. And I wanted to make sure nothing happened to the girls. The battle ended and the Cloak Knights escaped. I think 3 men were down. Sylvie was running over to Elf-hu man when the Colonel stabbed him.”

“Mother of Gods. I wonder if it was Larkin. We don’t have many Elf-hu yet in the knights.”

Mabel began to pace, a habit she shared with her brother, Fergus.

Heru elegantly pranced out of the woods, licking the last of the blood off his whiskers. Mabel and him had an unspoken arrangement, that he was allowed to hunt, but only elderly animals, and she didn’t want to see any part of it. Today he had a fat old rabbit for breakfast. He stared at the donkey defecating on the lawn and the friendly hermit eating breakfast with Mabel. Nothing surprised him anymore.

He could see the alarm on Mabel’s face though and brushed hard against her legs. Without looking down she scratched softly behind his ears and sat back down.

“Good morning Heru,” Frida smiled with yellowed teeth. He rubbed against her too, purring to her delight, and then found a sunny spot to lay in the sun where he could watch the donkey and eavesdrop on the conversation.

Frida reached her cracked hands over the table and held Mabel’s hands. She looked wildly over her shoulders and then whispered, “the Colonel cut her cloak. And threatened her with far worse things. I had to hold the horse back.”

Mabel was too shocked to say anything. It was obvious from Fergus’ message that he didn’t know this last part. Her eyes iced over, “Our passive stance with the Legionnaires is now over. We must actively start recruiting. I will take this monster down if Fergus doesn’t kill him first.”

Killing a Legionnaire was equal to treason in Azuren.

Frida knew her friend well, and quickly changed subjects. “Breakfast was good, Mabel. Look what Jerry and I found for you.”

She went to her cart and pulled out two dirty brown sacks. She dumped the first one out. It was full of spongey ugly brown mushrooms, one of the most delicious kinds for cooking.

“The second bag, I don’t dare dump out on your eating table.” It was full of perfect looking red and white spotted mushrooms. The spores were oozing poison.

“Oh, you are too kind. I haven’t been able to find this assortment for a long time now.” Mabel picked up one of the spongey ones and briefly smiled. “The tub must be warm enough for you now. I poured oatmeal into it and some lavender.”

They walked together over to the cast iron basin that was propped up on smooth large stones. The fire was blazing under it and the temperature was perfect.

As Frida undressed, Mabel tried not to cringe. The cracks went far up on her arms. And her old clothes were practically sticking to it.

Frida sighed as she lowered herself in the deep tub. It felt wonderous on her aching skin. She leaned back and within moments she fell asleep. She hadn’t told Mabel that after she saw the battle, she had walked with the horse, signalled the bats, brought Jerry home, fed her other ‘rescues’, washed the shrooms, sharpened her daggers, and then walked over to Mabel’s hut. She had wanted to leave Earl behind, but she knew how much he loved the grass at her place.

Mabel very carefully picked the leaves out of Frida’s hair and set them in a pile next to the tub. The clothes attempted to shake out, folded and placed back in the cart.

She made herself another cup of tea, this time peppermint, and put on her nicest purple cloak. It was chambray with a silk trim, looking just as expensive as it was.

She searched her closet for an old cloak, and found a perfect one, dark yellow topaz coloured made out of a heavy cotton fabric. Perfect for Frida. The two ladies were actually quite similar in size. Frida being just a hair taller than Mabel.

The messenger hawk had caught an unfortunate mouse in the meantime and seemed to be enjoying the cooler temperatures of the forest.

‘Lovely Heike, Azuren has a difficult leader of the Legionnaires. He must be dealt with. Harvest season is very bountiful this year. I’m happy to hear about the giants; I haven’t been home in a very long time. Will think about trading. Give my regards to the Beastlings, how I miss parts of Ostenia. Small orc attacks recently. Have you given thought to the Cloaks? Yours, Mabel’

Heru, lazily walked over to the hawk and sniffed the air around him. Yes, definitely Land of the Suns.

The hawk looked reluctant to fly off. Food was far more plenty here. It was still quite early in the morning. If he was lucky, he’d find a safe place before dusk. Didn’t the stupid humans know there was wyverns everywhere in Romilda. You got it good cheetah, was his last thought before taking off.

The sun bounced off his wings as he took flight.

Frida was snoring happily in the tub. Mabel laid the topaz cloak out in the sun alongside a salve for her arms, and a fresh loaf of bread wrapped in a linen cloth. She was hesitant to leave, but she would have a busy day and Heru would make sure she was okay.

She kissed his velvety head, warmed from the sun. “Don’t you dare pester her donkey while I am away. And don’t look at me like that, you attract too much attention in the city. I’ll be home by nightfall.”

“Come along you.” She gestured at the remaining pigeon. It cooed softly as she fed it more bread crumbs. She was still unsure what to respond to her brother. She walked down to the river, and flipped her little boat over that was partially hidden in the reeds. Her eyes narrowed thinking of the Colonel. She didn’t have the brute strength of most men, but she was far, FAR, more dangerous.

--

Sylvie woke up, quite similarly to she did at home, with the sun blinding her face. The straw bed wasn’t actually that uncomfortable but she was drenched in sweat. She had been dreaming about Larkin’s little boy. She quickly looked over and saw they were quietly eating some apples and bread.

She looked around her cell, and saw there was also a small loaf and an apple.

The little girl smiled for the first time while eating the apple and said, “from Lady Avery,” gesturing to the food.

Huh? Ah ja, the Elves are on strike. Avery must have handed out food. That’s why she was in the Lagerraum. Sylvie laughed out loud, and that’s why she was worried Blanca was going to kill her later.

She heard the heavy dungeon door creak open; Larkin’s family quickly hid in the far back corner of their cell. She stood up and looked down the hall and let out a sigh of relief. It was only Legionnaire Alaric.

As he walked towards her, she realized how handsome he was, Avery had been right, he had long hair the colour of sand pulled into a bun on his head, and a thick but neatly trimmed beard. He was a large man, but not as large as her father. Strong shoulders, and he carried himself with grace. She thought about his arms being wrapped around her this morning. He made eye contact with her and she quickly looked down. What are you thinking Sylvie she scolded herself.

“Did you get a little rest?” he asked.

He had huge eye rings under his blue eyes; he probably hasn’t gotten to sleep yet she realized.

“Yes, thank you. Were you able to send a pigeon?” she asked as softly as possible.

“Yes, so far no words back though.”

“I forgot to ask you; did you see Cato when we left the battlefield?”

He looked confused, “Who?”

She felt impatient, “My horse. A large black horse, his name is Cato.”

“Ah ja, he was watching everything from the edge of the forest. I only know that when we left the grounds, he appeared unharmed. More than that I don’t know.”

Sylvie’s shoulders relaxed, Cato either went to Auntie Mabel’s hut or back home. She glanced over Alaric’s shoulder and switched to her terrible Germanish, “And what will the Legionnaires do with them? Colonel Rojel has already ruined their lives, what more could he want?”

Alaric’s eyes squinted with anger, and he tried to whisper but it sounded more like a hiss. “The Colonel is a monster. Rojel will rape the mother, if he hasn’t already done so, and kill her when he is bored of her. I haven’t seen him touch a child yet, but I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

Sylvie was mortified and speechless. She looked over at them and realized the children had understood them. The little girl was crying again and the boy was whispering to his mother. Of course, they speak the language of the city folk, they have lived their whole lives here. She felt like an idiot. Why was she never able to say the right thing?

“We have to save them. We have to. I don’t care how.”

“Tell me how my Lady.” Alaric couldn’t make eye contact with her.

Sylvie was angry now, “You have a key! Let them go! This is not what the Legionnaires have sworn their oaths too…. the people will lose their faith in you guys.”

Alaric looked shocked, “It’s…. it’s not that simple!”

Sylvie glared, and lowered her voice, “Yes, it is. Tell me how much time I have before the Colonel ‘graces’ us with his presence.”

“He rode straight to the brothels after the battle. I would assume he won’t be back here until around late evening. I am hoping your father will come with the new weapon shipment and that you will be long gone before that.”

“Alaric, my father will not allow anything to happen to Larkin’s family.”

“Aye, I know your father.”

“Come with us,” she paused. “We can leave Azuren. There are many kingdoms that need the fighting skills of a Legionnaire. My father can open a shop, Blanca a clinic….”

He smiled at her sadly, “It sounds wonderful, really, but I can’t break my vows. And there are also some good men here. Not all of them are like the Colonel.”

“Take them with!”

“Sylvie,” he reached his hand through the bars to her. “I can’t, please understand, I can’t. I already am risking my head and position by coming here to you.”

She pulled her hand away and looked up at him very slowly, “Do you have my arrows or daggers?”

“What? No, you aren’t listening. I can’t arm you in the cell. They will kick me out of the Legionnaires if the Colonel doesn’t behead me first. Besides they are locked up in the guard’s quarters, I would never be able to get in there without questioning.”

“Then go,” she said. “I don’t know why you are still here.”

“Sylvie, please, I am sorry. What would you do if you were me?”

She turned her back to him, and softly said, “I would leave the Order that I have seen break every oath that they promised the people to be.”

He took a step back and looked at the cell with Larkin’s family and back at Sylvie. He suddenly remembered why he came to the cell in the first place.

“This little bottle fell out of your cloak when….”

Sylvie whipped around, “When the Colonel cut the cloak off of me.” She grabbed the bottle, she had forgotten about Blanca’s present to her, “That will be all Sir Alaric.”

“Aye.” He backed away slowly looking at the ground.

She re-read the inscription, ‘When the time comes you will know. Love, Blanca’.

This better be the right time thought Sylvie nervously.

--

Blanca sat up front of the little wagon with the Cloaked Knight. He was a quiet, like her, but that suited her just fine. Two very large horses were pulling them towards her Aunt’s hut.

“How come we are taking the lake path?” she asked him.

“Because, I grew up on water, and that is where I can protect you best,” he answered. He had a very deep voice, and a slight accent she wasn’t familiar with.

“Where are you from? And I am sorry for not inquiring earlier but I don’t even know your name?”

He smiled, “No problem Lady Blanca, my name is Santos. I come from a kingdom far away from here. It is sunny and warm almost every day there. Way too hot for anyone to wear a cloak.”

She closed her eyes, trying to picture it. “But does that mean you have no Harvest Season if it is always warm?”

Chuckling, Santos answered, “Of course we do. We just harvest different things.”

Blanca considered all of this and realized what a small world she had grown up in. She was about to open her mouth to inquire further. When he looked at her and said simply, “Shhh, try to rest now a bit. I know your aunt. And I know you will be plenty busy when we get there.”

“Aye,” said Blanca while yawning. She was exhausted. Spells always drained her. As the wagon bounced happily down the path, she felt her eyes getting heavy, and allowed her head to rest on Santos shoulder.

He smiled, he had never seen such white hair on a young person before, and began to hum a tune from his lands.

--

The normally calm Fergus was running frantically around his shop. He glanced over at the pile of blood. His two apprentices were also there watching the two Cloaked Knights suspiciously. The knights were no longer cloaked, but normally the only people Fergus brought to the shop were potential clients. These heavily armed men don’t need any more weapons, thought the human apprentice Eric. As if the other apprentice, an elf Emil, could read his mind, he nodded in agreement.

Emil had seen the blood covering the shop first. ‘It is not human or elven,’ he had whispered to Eric. Eric’s mouth had gaped open, but upon seeing Fergus walk towards the shop, he went to grab some soapy water and mop.

Both boys liked Fergus and believed he was a good master. Emil had gotten so good at enchanting the weapons that Fergus had soon let him take over some of the smaller orders. Eric meanwhile, was just the best assistant anyone could ever hope for. He would know what tool or material Fergus would need next before he himself would know it.

Fergus looked at his apprentices just staring dumbfounded at him. Both boys had dark brown hair and dark eyes, in another world they could have been brothers, he thought smiling.

“Come here lads,” he said.

Eric put the broom on the side, and Emil stopped packing the shipment for the Legionnaires.

“I am sorry for the mess in the shop today.” He looked curiously at Emil and added, “and no, don’t worry nothing got hurt in the process.”

Emil looked a little sceptical, for that was a lot of blood, but he trusted his boss, and nodded in acceptance.

“I want you two to know, that you are some of the best apprentices that any man could ask for….” He paused and took a deep breath, “There might be some hard times coming ahead, and if anything were to happen to me. I would want you two to run the shop. Blanca would be ultimately in charge, for she has her mother’s good business sense and kind heart. She would keep twenty percent. But you two would split the remaining profits 40/40 and could build small houses for your families on my lands.”

Neither boy moved an inch or could respond.

Fergus smiled, “Come on Eric, be a good lad and grab some parchment and a pen. Write every word I just said down on it. Before, we set off today, I will sign it if you two accept the terms.”

Emil, stepped forward, hesitated and then reached out and hugged Fergus. Fergus was taken aback, but laughed and said, “There, there, this isn’t goodbyes, I am not dead yet. However, I might need to leave on short notice. In the meantime, just take care of the shop as usual. The palace armoury will continue giving us new orders because they know we are the best in Azuren.”

Emil quickly let go of him and said, “We would be honoured to carry on the tradition of Fergus Fineries.”

Eric added, “We will not disappoint you or your family, sir.”

“I know lads. Now help me get these crates into the boat for the Legionnaires.”

“Which boat, sir?” asked Eric.

“Huh?”

“They are two boats docked right now.”

Fergus walked down to the pier quickly, and let out a sigh of relief. He had seen this boat in the docks in the city; it was Alaric’s boat. He recognized it instantly from the paint job. It had the two-stripe symbol of the Legionnaires, but was painted a cheery colour red.

“We will take both boats; it belongs to the person we are meeting to drop the weapons off with anyways.”

“Aye, sir.”

Fergus smiled to himself, Avery was right, the lad had already proven himself a great aid to his family.