My dad moved towards the old man with a murderous gaze. The light reflected off his drawn blade.

Before my dad could reach the old man, the young tailor blocked his way. “Sir, please lower your weapon. I don’t know what problem you have with my grandfather but we can talk about this.”

“Talk?” my dad replied with a low chuckle that sent chills down my spine, “How can I possibly talk with the man that slaughtered my family?”

“Jack, stand aside,” the old man said calmly. The was no fear in his one eye as he faced my dad, even though he was barely able to stand without help, let alone fight.

“But grandpa…” the young tailor protested.

“Jack, just listen to me for once.”

The young tailor hesitated for a moment before relenting. He stepped to the side, but only a little. He was still mostly between my dad and the old man, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.

The old man sighed as he straitened his back the best he could and faced my father. “I am afraid I do not recognize you. Before you kill me, would you tell me who you are and who I am dying for?”

“My name is Renald Ventus,” my dad growled, “Thirty-five years ago you butchered my family. You should remember them, given my sister took that eye of yours.”

The old man’s hand shook as he placed it over the scar across his eye. His words were barely more than a whisper as he spoke. “Yes, I remember. How could I not? That blasted job cost me everything. If you want my life, you can have it. You have more right than most that want me dead.”

“Grandfather!” The young tailor shouted.

“Silence, boy!” the old man shouted, “This is the way of the world. If you kill, you should be prepared to be killed in turn.”

“But…”

Before the young tailor could say anything more, my dad’s bracer started glowing. A column of ice extended out of the ground encasing the tailor’s up to his neck faster than the young man even knew what was happening.

“Whatever our grudge, do not take it out on the boy. He has no part in this. He is not even related to me.” The old man said with panic creeping into his voice for the first time.

“Do not try and act righteous in front of me!” my dad shouted furiously. He quickly moved towards the old man, the sharp edge of the sword now against the man’s throat.

A trickle of blood dripped down the old man’s weathered skin. He looked up at my dad without appearing to care how close he was to death. “If you are going to kill me, then do it. There is nothing I can say that will make any difference.”

The young tailor started babbling incoherently, begging for my dad to spare his grandfather. My dad fell quiet, only one small motion away from killing the man. Seconds ticked past but my dad stood perfectly still. His hand started shaking as the blade pressed harder into the neck of the old man.

The old man smiled at his grandson with a face I had seen many times in war. It was the face of a man that had accepted his death.

However, that death never came. The blade, only centimeters from ending his life, never sliced him open.

My dad’s arm fell limply to his side. His blade clattering to the ground with the ring of steel.

“I am better than this,” My dad whispered softly.

My mom was the first one to move, as she walked over and placed a hand on my dad’s shaking arm. My dad smiled bitterly and covered her hand with his own.

The old man stumbled back, his hand rubbing the small wound on his neck. His eyes were wide as he looked at my dad. “Why? He asked simply.

My dad took a deep breath as he glared at the man. His hatred had not lessened any despite his decision not to kill. “Because I am not a butcher. I will not kill a man who can barely stand, no matter how much he deserves it.”

The old man let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “You are a better man than me.”

“I do not need you to tell me that,” My dad replied as he picked up his sword and sheathed it, “However, just because I have decided to spare you does not mean you will be walking away scot-free. Based on what I know of Kala law, your past actions violated many of Svend’s decrees. I will be handing you over to the authorities where you will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.”

“I think I would rather you have killed me. At least then I could have died with honor,” The old man replied as he leaned against a nearby counter weakly, “Will you at least release my grandson.”

My dad nodded and the pillar of ice began to fade. The young tailor ran over to his grandfather the second he was freed, holding him upright.

“I am fine. I am fine,” The old man said in an effort to comfort his terrified grandson, “Everything will be ok. I will be going away but I know you are skilled enough to take care of the shop without me.” The old man then turned towards my dad and took a deep breath. “Since you have decided to spare me, humor me for a moment. You and your family came here for clothes, right? Let me make something one last time before you turn me in.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” My dad replied gruffly.

“No, you don’t. But if you let me do this, I will tell you a story you might find interesting. A story about the man who hired me to kill your family.”

My dad paused. He looked over at me and my mom before letting out a long sigh. “Fine, get to it.”

The old man chuckled as he hobbled over to get his tools. For the next several minutes he and the young tailor took everyone’s measurements with a practiced hand that only came from years of experience.

“Any requests?” He asked as he wrapped a measuring string around my chest.

“Something that is easy to move and fight in,” I replied, earning me a scowl from my mom.

“Another one inspired by the rebirth of the sword saint, ey? I know just the thing for you,” the old man said as he finished up the measurements.

“Make her something nice as well,” my mom interjected.

The old man chuckled and nodded knowingly.

“You said you had something to tell me,” My dad said impatiently.

“Yes, yes,” the old man replied as he hobbled over to a nearby workstation.

The young tailor, named jack, brought him an armload of half-finished clothes and furs. “I assume you already know it was your uncle, Emperor of the Ciel Empire, that put the price on your family’s head.”

“I do,”

Despite the difficulty the old man had walking, his hands became a blur as he used needle and thread while he spoke. “Good. That makes this easier. During our attack on your farm, we killed a stable boy. We thought he was you. When we reported back to the newly crowned emperor, we told him of our success. Impressed, the emperor kept us around to do his dirty work.” The old man paused his work for a moment and I could see his hand were shaking. “I did a great many things during that time that I now regret. I was blinded by money and false promises but that is no excuse. I also learned a great many secrets. I should have known that man would never let us live. We knew too much. Once the emperor learned of your survival several years later, he had his excuse. My men were slaughtered like livestock. Severely injured, they thought I was dead and dumped me into a canyon with the rest of the corpses.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” my dad said gruffly.

“No. I got what I deserved. The important part is what came next. You see, serving the emperor, I noticed a great many strange things. One of our duties had been to pretend to be bandits and capture civilians... alive… I always wondered what the prisoners were used for. I thought they were being sold as slaves to line the emperor’s pockets or as some sick pastime the man might have… I was so naive.”

The old man fell silent as he continued to work on the clothes in front of him for almost a minute before he continued. “After I was betrayed and dumped into that blasted canyon, I learned the truth. The crazy royal was feeding them to Demonkin. I don’t know if he thought he could train the beasts, or if he just wanted to release them on his enemies when their numbers grew but the man was creating an army of Demonkin down there.”

I felt a chill go down my spine as I realized the implication of the old man’s words. “Was… Was that canyon somewhere between the Ciel Empire and the Novus Kingdom?” I whispered.

“That’s right. It was just off the border of the Ciel Empire, in no man’s land. I barely managed to escape that horrible pit while the monsters feasted on the men that had once been my friends. To this day, I am not sure how I found the strength to climb that cliff with a busted leg. I ran away and never looked back. Tried to tell people about the Demonkin a few times, but who listens to an old half-dead mercenary. Most just thought I was making up stories to glorify the death of my men. Others just thought I was crazy.”

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood as I tried to calm myself down. If what this old tailor said was true, the Demons already had a horde to command. I thought that since the seven Demons were alone, they would start small, capturing forts and slowly expanding the blood mist. However, if they already had an army, there was no reason for them to do that. Depending on how big the horde is, they could probably even march on Ater-Albus. That idiotic emperor might have doomed everyone.

My mom placed a calming hand on my shoulder as she looked at me with concern. “We will warn Svend as soon as we get back but there is not much we can do until the army finishes gathering.”

“I know,” I said as I took a deep breath to calm the panic that had been rising in my chest. I had to be strong, now more than ever. I could not allow myself to be overwhelmed with emotion or the Demons would win before the battle even began.

Minutes ticked by and the old man continued to tell my dad about a great many things that could be used to blackmail the Emperor. None of them compared to learning about the Demonkin but they were all still horrible. Even the grandson had stopped to look at his grandfather in horror more than once. Still, the old tailor never looked up from his work.

Before long, there was an outfit for each member of my family and two for me. The first consisted of a leather vest with soft fur on the inside, black breeches that stopped mid-shin, and even a pair of short fur-lined leather boots that fit me surprisingly well. The old tailor insisted this was the style the sword saint wore when he was young and that it was an extremely popular style right now. The second outfit was the one my mom requested. It was a fairly simple green and blue winter dress with long sleeves and a fur shawl that wrapped around my shoulders.

The rest of my family all got new clothes as well. Each was a mix of fabric, leather, and fur that looked very warm. The style was not my usual taste but it was clear the tailor put all his effort into each outfit. They were well made and would serve us well in the winter months to come.

After he was finished, the old tailor placed his tools back into their designated spots with great care before sitting down on a stool with a sigh. “Thank you for letting me create one last work before turning me in. I am ready now.”

My dad stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Before that, there is one last thing I need from you.”

“Oh? What is that?”

“You are going to help me find where in the catacombs my family is kept so that I can give them the proper burial you denied me.”