As the morning sun rose over the estate, Clyde stirs out of slumber, feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day ahead. Excited to start work on the firearm schematics, he throws on fresh garments from the wardrobe and makes his way to the great hall.

Walking into the hall, Clyde’s eyes were met with the bustling activity of his fellow estate staff, all gathered around the tables to savor the remnants of last night's dinner. The aroma of freshly baked bread fills the air as they break pieces off and dip them into the savory gravy. Amidst the chatter and clanking of utensils, Clyde couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie and belonging as he made his way to sit down.

Clyde found an empty spot and immediately began filling his plate. He smiles down at his food through a deep breath, as if giving quiet thanks, before digging in.

"Enjoying your bread?"

Clyde looks up to see Airi with a playful smirk on her face.

Clyde, well aware that Airi is trying to provoke him, decides to take the high road.

"Yes, I am,” he smiles. “It's delicious. Thank you for asking."

Airi, not one to back down, pressed further. "Is it better than yesterday's?"

"I suppose it's hard to compare, but it's certainly delicious in its own right,” Clyde responds, just trying to keep the peace.

But Meri, who has been listening to the exchange, couldn't hold back her frustration as she stands abruptly. “You jerk,” she says through squinted eyes.

Airi smiles at Clyde’s confusion, feeling victorious. "You know, Meri made this bread yesterday. So, that must mean you don't like her cooking. How very rude of you, Clyde."

Clyde looks at Meri with a sense of remorse. "I'm sorry, I must have misspoken. Yesterday's bread was absolutely delicious, the best I've ever had!"

Meri and Airi look at each other, their expressions softening as they start giggling.

Clyde’s guilt turns into annoyance. "So. You didn't make it today or yesterday, did you Meri?" he says through a sigh.

"You got us,” Meri says through a giggle. “It was actually Airi who made it."

"I told you he would react like that,” Airi says, smirking satisfactorily while gently nudging Meri through her elbow.

"It's too early for this." Clyde shakes his head and stands up, ready to leave and eat elsewhere. Yet before he could make his exit, the grand doors to the hall were suddenly thrown open, slamming against the walls. The room was filled with the crisp morning air, the chilliness of which made Clyde pause for a moment to shiver. He remained still when he heard the sound of heavy footfalls approaching.

Six men in full plate armor marched in without a care for formalities. While the simple steel armor was not elaborate by any means, every piece was well-polished and taken care of, the pride these soldiers had in their appearance. Behind them walked a man in a tuxedo.

As he drew closer, Clyde immediately recognized his face: it was the slave trader who sold him to Aithne. A feeling of dread washed over him as he realized the implications of the trader's presence.

The slave trader places one arm over his chest and extends the other perfectly straight as he bows deeply before Aithne.

"Madam Aithne, how do you do?" he says with embellished awe.

Aithne remains seated as she is flanked by the sisters, Hayden, and Alistair- all gathering around her defensively.

"What do you want, Mr. Laszlo?" she says with tired impatience.

Clyde sits back down and watches the events unfold with a sense of trepidation. Aithne whispers something into Alistair's ear, and he quickly leaves the Great Hall soon after.

Laszlo straightens up from the bow of respect toward the lady, and lets his eyes drift to Clyde, "I see that you have kept the merchandise close. He is a fine specimen, isn't he?" he says with a sly smile.

"Do not test my patience, Mr. Laszlo,” Aithne responds sharply as her annoyance becomes evident. “Surely you are not here to do a follow-up questionnaire."

Laszlo chuckles. "Of course not; I have heard the rumors. Surely the loving Aithne would never seek to replace her cherished late husband with a slave? That would be a defilement of the love and reverence you hold for him, wouldn't it?"

Aithne takes a sharp breath in as she stares daggers into Laszlo. "As I said: do not test my patience, slaver. Why are you here?" she seethes.

"I have come to retrieve my son,” Laszlo responds coolly.

"Your son is not here. If he was, I would cast him at your feet without hesitation, for he would annoy me too much- just as you do now."

"Surely, you jest,” Laszlo says with disbelief. “My son is beloved and handsome! Why, he’s even engaged to a countess."

"I'm sure I would have recognized such a man standing before me,” Aithne says dismissively.

"Surely, you are hiding him from me,” Laszlo insists. “Perhaps, you have fallen in love with him? Perhaps these recent rumors are true not just for your slave, but for all dashing young men."

"I have love for only one. And he is certainly not your son,” Aithne states firmly.

"I do not enjoy playing games, Aithne. I know you have my son,” Laszlo grumbles as his eye begins to twitch.

Alistair enters the room and hands Aithne a bag, which she opens to peek inside.

"Mr. Laszlo, how many children do you have?" Aithne asks, her voice cold and measured.

"I have been blessed with three beautiful children, Madam,” he says, his demeanor slipping a bit.

"Do not lie to me, Laszlo,” Aithne fumes. “You have two.”

Aithne tosses the bag at Laszlo with a flick of her wrist. The bag lands at his feet, its contents spilling out as it rolls to a stop. Laszlo's face turns red with rage as he fixates on what has tumbled out of the bag.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he bellows.

“Surely that isn't your son? The bandit who tried to rob, rape, and kill me- surely that isn’t the handsome, beloved man you were asking for?"

Laszlo glares at Aithne's guards, seeing that Alistair and Hayden both stood ready to draw their weapons and cut him and his men down if he so much as looked at Aithne the wrong way. They were men that could make kings fall silent, so long as they stood by Aithne’s side.

Laszlo, realizing the gravity of the situation, falls to his knees and picks up his son's head, cradling it in his arms. "Why did you do this?! I would have paid you the world's worth in gold!" he screams.

"The weight of the world in gold wouldn't have saved him from the justice he deserved and received." Aithne states coldly as she crosses her legs. "I am not some corrupted noble that would trade justice for gold, be his crimes against vagrant or noble."

Clyde sits there silently as he takes in the events transpiring before him. All he could do now was admire Aithne’s sense of integrity.

Laszlo stands and turns towards the door. However, as if something possesses him to take one last shot, he turns his head to Aithne.

"I hope your daughter is in good health in Althea. It's a beautiful place where the sunsets are the most… Beautiful red." He wears a sly smile.

Aithne springs from her chair, knocking it over as she points her finger at Laszlo’s head.

"If you mention my daughter again,” she says slowly, her eyes burning, “I will take your head, just like I did with your son, as well as those of your family. So bind your tongue, you treacherous leech, lest those words be your last."

Laszlo, sensing the danger, quickly turns and rushes toward the exit.

"Wait!” Aithne’s voice rings out before he could cross the threshold. “You must give penance for what your son did."

Laszlo turns around, clearly confused and upset. "S-Surely he has paid his penance through death?!"

"Then leave his head, and begone, for it will be turned to ash."

"B-But if you cremate him, he won't be able to enter the afterlife!” Laszlo cries out desperately.

"Then pay his penance, so you may take him,” Aithne retorts callously.

Laszlo looks down helplessly and nods with eyes glazed over. "Yes, Madam... What shall the penance be?"

"Lick. The. Floor.” Aithne demands.

"Surely you jest!” Laszlo cries out in horror, looking up at Aithne in disbelief. “For such a thing disgraces a man and puts his soul with the ants. Such a man could not stand tall in death!"

She whispers, "choose, Laszlo."

Laszlo, showing shame and disdain, hands his son's head to his guard with trembling hands. He drops to his knees and slowly brings his face to the floor. He hovers there a moment before finally bringing himself to lick the glassy marble tile. He licks over and over as tears well up in his eyes.

"Stop,” Aithne finally says after watching the man polish the tile with his tongue seven times. “Take your son’s head and leave. I hope you thoroughly understand this great mercy I have bestowed upon you, for you should not be walking out of here with your head still attached."

Laszlo wobbles back to his feet and leads his company of men out of the grand hall in defeat, his hands clenched in shaking fists.

Aithne, her anger still palpable, stands up after they leave.

"Alistair, gather my retainers.” With determination in each step, Aithne strides out of the great hall, her voice resounding with authority as she speaks.

"We shall enforce martial law and conscript every able-bodied person in the town." Alistair, Hayden and Airi quickly follow her out, leaving Clyde and Meri behind.

Confused by the sudden turn of events, Clyde turns to face Meri from across the table. "What's happening? What's going on?"

"Aithne has just declared martial law,” Meri calmly explains. “Every person in the town will be required to live in and protect the estate until the threat is over.”

She bends over the table, bringing a hand to her mouth and Clyde leans in as she whispers to him.

“Rosttir is not like other towns, Clyde. This is the home of Lord Raine's fighting company - it’s a town of soldiers, where very few are ordinary people. Each and every person here will fight to protect the Lady and the estate."

Clyde's eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, what?” he exclaims. “You mean to tell me that every person here has served under Raine as a soldier? Everyone?!"

Meri nods. "It's not something that is well-known to outsiders. Besides a few families, every person here has served under Lord Raine as a soldier. And even now, they still do. Even myself; my duties as a druid under Lady Aithne come before my duties as a maid.”

Clyde thinks about Mia, and her father- the kind man who raved about the joys of reading. He couldn't reconcile the image of him as a soldier.

"Even Leonidas? The man who loves to read and talk about literature?"

Meri nods again. "I didn't see Leonidas in his prime, but I heard from Hayden that he could hit a target from 500 yards and fire 20 shots a minute. When his enemies drew close, he would summon hellfire to fall upon them. It's said that he single-handedly took on an entire company by himself."

As Hayden walks into the room and takes a seat next to Clyde, he nods in agreement with Meri's words. "Yeah, that dude is a certified badass. I'm glad he's on our side. He'll be invaluable in our defense. Though, it's worth noting that he had an entire team supporting him to achieve those insane shot speeds. I've even helped him reload his boomsticks before. His title is Brimstone."

"So, how does one earn a title like that?" Clyde asks curiously.

"Just perform a great feat. Alistair earned the title of 'Sword Saint' last year from the Church of Amare when he took mithril in the Centennial Battlemaster tournament,” Hayden explains.

Meri playfully pokes Hayden in the arm. "And what about you, Hayden? How did you earn the title of 'Exchanger'?"

Hayden blushes a little bit and chuckles. "It's kind of dumb, really. "

"Come on, tell us!" Meri persists.

Hayden sighs deeply. "Some of the local kids started calling me 'Exchanger' because I would often find a family for an orphan, but bring a new orphan the next day,” he reluctantly explains.

Meri pokes Hayden again. "Come on, don't hold out on us. What's the real story behind your title?"

"Fine. During a few battles, I ended up both killing and healing in almost equal amounts,” Hayden continues with a hint of embarrassment. “Once a few soldiers heard the kids calling me 'Exchanger', it stuck and it spread like wildfire. Now I can't get rid of it. To be honest, I hate it."

Meri hides a smile behind her hand as she pokes Hayden more. "Why, Mr. Exchanger?"

"It's so uncool!" Hayden groans.

Clyde struggles to contain a chuckle. "I didn't know you cared so much about being cool."

Hayden shrugs. "Of course, doesn't every guy?" Hayden slicks back his overy-large, quiff hairstyle, almost as if he was modeling. “Cool is supreme!”

Airi bursts into the room, looking slightly irritated, "Meri, why didn't you come with me to follow Lady Aithne?"

"I wanted to fill Clyde in on the details,” Meri tells her sister through a warm smile.

Airi sighs. "Ugh! Now I have extra work,” she grumbles, before turning to Hayden. "Aithne and Alistair are getting ready to leave right now. They want to talk to you as soon as possible. Oh, and you are in command while they are gone."

Hayden lets out a sigh and rubs his face."Gosh, I hope we don't get attacked while Aithne is away."

Airi's expression becomes serious. "One of the Landry brothers made a report... He didn't get a good look at the ranks, but he thinks they have half a battalion."

Hayden almost jumps out of his seat. "Are you serious?! How the hell did he get 500 men? And Aithne’s leaving, even with a force like that at our door?"

“Laslzo has more wealth than most dukes, I don't think they will be well trained soldiers. Go talk to Aithne, I’m sure she will fill you in” Airi suggests.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hayden nods. “I'm going now,” he says on his way out.

"Clyde,” Airi says after turning to face him, “Aithne also told me to get you geared up. Head to the armory."

"I'll go ahead and show Clyde there,” Meri offers.

Airi rolls her eyes. "Fine, but hurry up and come to the war chamber when you're done."

Meri nods, taking Clyde’s hand. "Of course. Follow me, Clyde."

As they walk through the halls and down the stairs to the armory, Clyde wonders aloud.

"I didn't know Aithne had a daughter."

"Oh yes, Chloe,” Meri says. “Airi and I were her personal attendants. Airi used to absolutely spoil her, and Lord Raine had to reprimand her many times for it. After Lord Raine passed away, Aithne sent Chloe away. She was only 7 years old when he died... It was so tragic."

Clyde and Meri enter the armory and find some of the servants picking through the equipment. As they walk down the rows of tables and shelves filled with armor and weapons, Meri spots an old gambison and picks it up, along with the suit of mail next to it.

She walks over to Clyde, who is looking at the swords. "Put your arms up," she says while lifting up the gambison.

Clyde obliges and Meri pulls the gambison down onto him, followed by the suit of mail. The mail snagged on the gambison a few times, so Clyde had to jump up and down until it fell all the way to his knees.

Meri stands back and nods in satisfaction. "Good enough for who it’s for," she says cheekily, giving Clyde a wink.

She then ties a worn leather belt around his waist to help him bear the weight a little easier. Next, Meri finds him an old kettle helmet and steel mittens, helping Clyde put them on before finally fixing two short swords inside leather sheaths, along with an 8 ft spear, to the straps on his belt and shoulder.

Meri grins at Clyde. "You look like a real warrior now!" she says with a clap of her hands.

Clyde looks down at himself. "I need a shield, too,” he realizes.

"Oh, right! Let's go find you a shield,” Meri says as she skips off to that section of the armory with Clyde.

~

Laszlo enters his camp in the forest, with his guard following closely behind him. A man approaches him, looking rugged in his dirty clothes.

"Was it successful?" the man asks.

"Yes, Maverick,” Laszlo replied confidently. “Aithne will definitely be leaving. There is no way she wouldn't after I brought up her daughter like that. As soon as she leaves, we will attack. We’ll be lucky if the Sword Saint leaves as well."

The guard holding the head of Laszlo’s son steps forward. "Sir, what should I do with your son?" he asks, holding up the bloody bag.

Laszlo takes the bag from the guard and uncovers the head within. He looks at it with contempt.

"What a fool," he mutters, before grabbing his son’s head by the hair and tossing it into the forest. It rolls down a hill before disappearing into the woods.

“Let the wolves have him. It disgusted me that I had to act that way in front of Aithne."