The First Born

The Citadel’s blacksmith, it is situated on the southwest side. It’s where all the armors, weapons, and gear come from. A busy life; day in and day out of chores for both servants and blacksmiths. No rest if orders upon orders are sent from the Citadel or from the Sanctuary.

Weapons and armors for Battle-Maidens must be made for the new initiates or to the seniors if their equipment is becoming unwearable from all the training. Crafting of tools for the workers of the Citadel. Silverware and kitchen appliances. Anything. However, too much is too much, even for them. So when a large order is requested, it gets sent out to the City, instead of being forwarded to the blacksmiths for they do have limits.

Everything involving a forge is made in the smithy; smelting of various materials to make what needs to be done while using secret schematics from both new and old to craft the best of the best. Nevertheless, like all the other blacksmiths, they aren’t allowed to work with the one significant power to make the greatest crafts.

Magic.

Only in the Capital City can the Queen’s blacksmiths use magic to infuse their many ideas when they craft.

Of such an essential ingredient, of course, jealousy and awe stem from the other artisans around the Queendom. Many journeys to witness such a wonder with their own eyes. Like the current blacksmiths of the Citadel, they had traveled to the promised City of the Queens to learn from the Wordforgers. Took years for them to finish their education, all from the hospitality of the Tertins.

Soon another couple shall travel to gain their needed knowledge to succeed the heritage like the current head-blacksmiths have…

……

…

Water against red metal sounds out the sizzle of cooling. Hammers resounding time and time again as they hit anvils upon anvils.

Tools hanging from racks, furnaces spread in even spaces, women with dirty aprons and skins stained with soot, and a single muscled man with a trimmed, short beard inspects them all, walking steadily past them while wanting to instruct the younger girls if they make any mistakes.

He gazes at any fault in their technique, yet at the moment, he’s satisfied with everyone doing what they should since they’re servants in their field of choice. They range from sixteen to up to the age of retirement. Many women; only a single man. A man with short brown hair, while his relaxed eyes, gentle to the core. He cares for his workers, especially the younger ones like daughters.

Arriving next to a hammering young blacksmith, he looms beside her with his higher height. Even topping Maldoran’s build. A well-trained man, almost as old as Reconon but a decade younger. He holds his hands behind his back as the young servant continues to craft what she crafts. His eyes, ever-watching for any mistakes. Though, the girl, she’s as focused as she was before he came.

The rhythm of the hammer swings down and up in short intervals. Precise and skilled. But the girl stops her hammer, dipping the beaten area into a deep basin of water, resounding that sizzling sound. Then while smiling to her teacher, she goes to the furnace to reheat it again.

A spearhead. It’s deformed, but nevertheless a spearhead.

“Sir Tefeth?” the servant asks with eager eyes gluing themselves to her teacher's watchful gaze. “When is this supposed to be finished? How long did I have again?”

“No need to hurry, as long as it’s done until the next battle of the Ebon Wall,” Tefeth ensures while raising his bushy brow. “I’ve given this task to you – your trial. And if you perform to the best of your ability, you’ll finally gain a senior rank. But that doesn’t mean I want it simply done. I require for it to be decorated with intricate craftsmanship. A spear for an Honored One.”

“W-What…?” the girl shrinks beneath his statement. Her eyes become wild with nervousness. “Y-You never said anything about an Honored One…” She falls silent as clenching fists form, almost as if in anger, but no, she’s determined to finish what she started. The servant nods to herself, throwing her devotion to her teacher. “I won’t fail you, Sir Tefeth! I’ll make you proud!”

“Oh, I know you will make me proud, my pupil. I know! Haha!” Tefeth laughs with such fatherly love, placing his heavy hand on her shoulder which she takes completely unfazed. Her own body is becoming stronger the more days pass. And with it, her craft.

“Don’t pamper her too much father, she’s a servant,” a flame-haired young woman declares rather grumpily while being on the next station hammering her own piece of chosen metal onto an anvil.

“No need to be jealous, my daughter! I love all my pupils equally!” Tefeth shouts for all to hear as he spins around with outstretched arms, making the younger servants giggle, while the older ones chuckle at his behavior. Always so happy, always so gentle. If it weren’t for his stern resting face, he could actually come off as tranquil, like his youngest daughter. But unfortunately, he took his looks from his side of the family, brought in to marry the chosen Orilldera daughter of his time.

Giving the now-saddened servant a wink to cheer her up from hearing his daughter’s mean comment, he turns to the perpetrator to voice out his grievance, “Tenrya, my daughter, you should really keep your mouth where it belongs. You still can’t be mad at us for your upcoming educational plan? It’s completely free – a chance of a lifetime given to you by our Master. Or are you still brooding about your fiance?” Tefeth squints his eyes as he awaits, but adds, “You’ve known about your engagement for many years now. Why can’t you accept it for our sake? We’ve pushed it up for far too long because of your refusals. You know your sisters can’t further our line. Only you.”

“I don’t care… I won’t marry him just because you want me to. If you force me, I will… I will…” she hesitates to say the next words as she bites her lip.

“You will abandon your family? Leave the Tertin household after everything they’ve given you? Given us?” Tefeth growls, his impatience getting the better of him since this daughter has a mind of her own. She can doom the Orilldera line if she leaves. “So you want Tanya to return to the smithy, do you?”

“What?! No! Leave her out of this! She’s a handmaiden!” Tenrya shouts, dropping her hammer and tong into her water basin as she gets up and close to her father, thrusting her gloved finger at his aproned chest. “Lady Malinda won’t allow it!”

“But that’s where you’re wrong, daughter,” Tefeth rumbles, raising his head with narrowed eyes gazing down. “Tanya had already conveyed to our Honored Lady, that if her older sister were to ever decline the marriage for the chosen one, she would take your place willingly, without question. For she knows her duty. Unlike you, it seems.” He sighs with a headshake, crossing his arms. “It’s final then? You want your sister to abandon her Mistress so you can live your life as you see fit?”

“D-D-Damn you! I hate you! I hate you!” Tenrya screams out while kicking over her basin, so the water stains the stone floor, making everyone turn to them in surprise, but the biggest surprise is Lord Maldoran standing at the far east doorway, flickering his confused eyes.

None of them have noticed him yet since the scream has taken the servants’ attention. But as tears start to flood, Tefeth embraces his daughter. She fights him off, but his strength exceeds hers.

“It… It’s not faaair! You can’t bring Tanya into… into… It’s not fair… papa.”

Beginning to cry, she surprisingly hugs her father tighter than him. Though, she has always known that whatever she says, it’s final. She’ll marry the youngest but best blacksmith in the City, and together, they’ll travel to the Capital to study while getting to know each other.

Tenrya has never met the man to be her future husband. But what she has heard about him is praise. A kind young man who truly envies and worships his future fiance for being allowed to have such fortune of working in the Citadel. For Tenrya, it’s nothing but a prison.

The male apprentices to the City’s large smithy have over the centuries fantasized of marrying an Orilldera daughter since not a single male heir is in the Orilldera dynasty. Just women. Almost as if some magical power wants female heirs in the Citadel.

It is, however, only in the Citadel.

Outside the walls, boys sprout from between women’s legs as regularly as girls do. Even Maldoran wasn’t conceived in Tertinum because his parents went on an extended honeymoon; not returning for a whole year. And when they came back, in Matilda Tertin’s arms was a baby boy. An unplanned child.

With a smile, Maldoran readies himself to intervene their little embrace of father and daughter, but as a shout echoes through the smithy, “What is the meaning of this?! Why aren’t anyone working?!” he startles himself.

Recina in her worn battle-armor had marched in through the main double doors on the southeast side of the smithy, being as grumpy as she was when she left Malinda’s quarters. She saw everything from a bit away, though, now finally in range to yell out her simmering anger.

Her eyebrows have lowered while her peering eyes scan the startled servants who continue with their work. And the parent and child that lets go of each other.

“A-Ah! Honored Handmaiden Recina! What a pleasure meeting you here!” he greets with a teeth-showing smile, then with flickering eyes, he witnesses the man in black next to her in an instant, even bowing his upper body in recognition of Xe’Reth’s future status. “Sir Xe’Reth. I, one of the current head-smiths, welcome you with open arms. I hope you didn’t hear my little quarrel with my daughter. She’s hearty when it involves her future as the heir to the blacksmith.”

Tefeth’s eyes creep to the southwest, catching Xe’Reth’s attention since a bit of shame linger in his gaze.

His daughter? Has run away in embarrassment, leaving all her work unattended because her tears have destroyed her sooty face; ripples of clean skin from the moisture has run down from her eyes. She doesn’t have the strength of the mind to meet such influential people as of now. Though from her lack of restraint in revealing everything in such a high tone has gotten Xe’Reth an idea to bring her into his fold.

If she so hates to marry, why not throw away such traditions as forced marriage?

Though making Tanya take over for her… That won’t do at all. So why not have the oldest daughter of the Orilldera line take it upon herself than her younger sisters? To banish Taryna from Malinda’s service, forever…

…

“I do apologize again, Sir, on my daughter’s behalf,” Tefeth says while shaking and clutching Xe’Reth’s outstretched hand, making it all dirty, which widens Tefeth’s eyes. “Oh... Ah… I apologize for a third time, Sir. Come with me to wash your hand. I should’ve done that myself before forcing you to take my hand. I apologize… Ah, for a fourth time…”

“Hahaha, always such an innocent child, Tefeth!” Maldoran bellows as he finally joins them since standing in the shadows bored him. He isn’t much for sneaking about. Servants even saw him right as he came in their line of sight. But with a finger to his smiling mouth, he had silenced them.

“I was wondering when you would join us, Maldoran,” Xe’Reth chuckles, moving his head slowly with eyes of peace as if catching Maldoran the moment he saw Xe’Reth, which he did. Well, it wasn’t hard to notice a big muscled man standing there at the corner of his eye, trying to shush the servants to not yell out in surprise. “Took you long enough.”

“H-Honored Loooord?! When did you arrive?! Why didn’t anyone announce your arrival?!” Tefeth shouts, gawking with such panic because Maldoran is indeed his Lord, his benefactor. His boss.

He shoots his glare to the working servants from where Maldoran came; their hammering has sped up to a speed that tells him of their shame. But the Lord gave them orders to stay silent, and silent they were, are. Just their hammers banging away. However, they stop, meekly eyeing Tefeth for forgiveness, which he gives with a chuckling nod.

“At ease, Tefeth!” Maldoran comforts as he gives him a royal slap on the shoulder, echoing the hit for all to hear. Some wince away in fright while some stand with gaping mouths. That slap must have hurt a lot.

‘Goddesses… I’m thankful that he didn’t do that to me when we had breakfast. Malinda would’ve been furious.’ Xe’Reth scoffs with white teeth displaying, wanting to laugh. Though he holds it in, even growing sullen again, remembering what the DLO did to his bears.

“Both me and the boy have a busy day ahead of us, so enough stalling here,” Maldoran declares, giving him another smacking slap for good measure, to test if he’s keeping up with his strength training. That he has, for he took his Lord’s smashing palm like the beast he is. “Time to show him my old armor. I hope you and your wife were able to finish it up in time… Well… have you?”

“W-Why, of course, Lord!” Tefeth confirms as though his life depends on it. Exaggerated, but Tefeth actually respects his Honored Lord with his entire soul. And getting an order directly from Maldoran himself has him in such a joyous mood. However, Tefeth’s meekness never changes. He flows his arm towards where his daughter went. “Come, come, I’ve prepared the armor in my family’s modest living room. Also, Lord, various heirloom weapons have been brought as per your request. A shield too, of course. Ah, I gotta stop repeating certain words... Ha-Haha…” He coughs as he lowers his head. “After you.”

The party of four leaves the smithy as the servants sigh out in relief. A lot of first sightings of Xe’Reth from them. Not every day can they see a young man of such caliber, of such uniqueness. Though the banging upon anvils, the reheating of furnaces, and the searing metals arranged on the cold, hard chunk of iron begins again.

The smithy continues where it left off. Plenty of work, day in and day out.

The young servant who works on the spearhead, she gazes to where they disappeared, then to the spearhead, “So this is for him… huh? Better do my damnedest. Otherwise, I’ll never be taken seriously by Tenrya. Always so jealous when her father doesn’t pay attention to her… hmph! Such a child!”

Coughing as two tittering servants walk past her with their own workload, she gets back to the spearhead because they’re laughing at her outspoken words. A trait one shouldn’t have. It’s better to keep one’s mouth shut around competitors. A single mistake can lose her the chance to gain the rank of senior instead of remaining as a mere greenhorn…

……

…

The house of the Orillderas is a modest one. It’s part of the same building as the blacksmith but yet closed off for servants’ eyes. The Orillderas are like common folk, well, at least Tefeth, his wife, and Tenrya, for their other two daughters which they’re so proud of are handmaidens to Malinda, an Honored One. It’s the greatest honor to serve such an esteemed daughter of the highest rank.

He even takes his duty as a blacksmith to the point of overworking. No sleep for the dedicated and loyal. However, compared to his wife, he lacks in strictness. Sure, when it involves his beautiful Tenrya, he can’t help but push her, for her sake. Because traveling to the Divine City is something she shouldn’t miss. A chance of a lifetime.

He loves all his precious daughters equally, but Tenrya is someone of greatness to him. A protégé like her own mother was.

…

Storming into the living room from the hallway leading to the blacksmith, Tenrya spears toward the stairs leading to the second floor. Yet upon gawking at her mother who finishes coating and wiping the armor for Xe’Reth, Tenrya stops dead in her track. Even trying to sneak past her mother since she’s currently having her gaze glued to the armor.

Tenrya manages to reach the stairs, but as an impatient voice sounds out, “Come here right this instant…” causes her to freeze up. Her mother’s sideway glare pierces Tenrya’s mind. For her mother is the strictest and proudest person she has ever gotten the chance of meeting. And beginning to walk to her with an upper body descending in fear, while her own eyes dare not to meet her mother’s peer, she comes upon her.

Her mother’s blazing eyes and let out long hair belongs to a woman of beauty, an old beauty. Her features isn’t that of a monster of muscles but of a refined lady that takes care of her skin and body. Almost no wrinkles, unlike her husband. Nevertheless, her current squinting eyes of fire blazes with wonder why ripples of clean skin stain her daughter’s face.

“Explain yourself, now,” she commands, walking on the wooden floor to loom above her daughter’s shriveled-up body. She grabs and tears her daughter’s chin upwards, so she forces her to stare straight into her eyes. “You had another fight with your father, didn’t you? On such an important day? A day of our Lord’s arrival, bringing with him our Honored Lady’s first lover?”

“T-They… have arrived…” Tenrya whispers as she clenches her teeth and puts up her hands to protect herself. But luckily, her mother didn’t catch what she said.

“Speak up, for the Divines sake! So I can hear you!”

Tenrya recoils from her mother’s shouting voice, whimpering out, “They… They saw… They saw me and papa argue about my fiance… Mama, they saw…”

“What did you…? You little whore… You dare embarrass me again and again… You humiliation!” she explodes, cascading down with her risen hand onto her daughter's cheek.

Before Tenrya recovers from such a stinging hit, another slap connects to her other cheek, throwing her off balance. But with her mother clutching onto her hair, she drags her towards the stairs.

Arriving, she throws her daughter onto the staircase, not having any sympathy for her. Because all her mother thinks of her is that she’s a burden, unlike her other two daughters who has such a Divine place of work.

“You shall go to your room and stay there until I come, you hear me? You shall answer to our Queens for your complete lack of restraint! Now go! And do not mention this to your father, understand? Otherwise, I’ll give you another whipping, so you won’t ever dare embarrass me again!” she threatens as if Tenrya is nothing but her property, like Liriana to Madelyn. However, she becomes so outraged because of her daughter’s lack of movement. “I said up!”

Her daughter dare not to move, just cries as though she’s a teenage girl, but she’s in her mid-twenties. “Do I have to do everything myself?!”

She squeezes her daughter’s wrist while Tenrya lies on the stairs, weeping. Though, compared to her mother, Tenrya’s strength covers in fear before hers, causing her to be carried upstairs to her room.

As they disappear, the only sound is of a door slamming shut…

……

…

“Come come, welcome to our humble abode. It’s nothing special to look at, but it’s home.” Tefeth begins to point and smile in all directions, displaying his utter joy in guiding his Lord and future young Lord. But Maldoran has already been here before, so Tefeth focuses on the newly arrived Xe’Reth. “Upstairs is where our bedrooms are and guestrooms for visitors that, heh, never seem to come! And there, over by the hearth! Our family heirloom! The hammer of legends! The hammer that forged the founding mother’s armor and weapon! The only magic imbued tool of the Orilldera ancestors!”

He speaks with such a passionate belief glowing in his eyes. Yet his mouth curves down. “But as ancient as it is, its power vanished long ago. With it, our craft to forge powerful weapons and armor. It’s unfortunate indeed to lose such an artifact of greatness.”

Tefeth laments with pouting lips. However, Maldoran smacks him again to cheer him up.

“Haha! Stop brooding over a rusty thousand-year-old mallet Tefeth. It doesn’t suit you at all.” Maldoran laughs as he switches to place his hand on Xe’Reth’s shoulder, making Xe’Reth feel the weight of it. “By the way, my boy, how is my sister doing? I heard of her collapse. You two must have really gone at it last night? Huh? Huh?”

Maldoran winks and nudges at Xe’Reth, while Tefeth goes wide-eyed at such a statement from his Lord.

Sighing with eyebrows lowering, Maldoran shakes his head, “But considering what happened yesterday… she should rest today too. Though Recina will take care of you when you go to the Ebon Wall, won’t you Battle-Mistress?”

“That I shall as though he’s the will of my Mistress,” Recina replies while standing a meter behind Xe’Reth, giving the Lord a sound nod. But her squinting eyes do not appreciate such a comment about Malinda.

‘He really has no idea, does he…? I so want to tell him immediately about what his wife did… But…’ She sighs as her eyes wander around the living room of the Orilldera’s. There! An armor she recognizes. Switching her eyes back to Maldoran who has already begun to guide Xe’Reth towards where the heirloom weapons and armor are, Recina raises her eyebrow. ‘That belongs to the Lord. Didn’t know he still had that exact armor...’

Since Maldoran was rather ripped in his younger days, battling as a commander of the Ebon Wall’s middle gate, his armor was smaller than his current size. Though still, he had a slightly bigger build than Xe’Reth’s.

Tefeth has been up all night and hasn’t even gone to sleep yet, neither has his wife. Because the armor needed repair and alterations so it could fit Xe’Reth. They can’t have him walking around in armor that isn’t fit for his current position as lover of the Honored Lady Malinda.

Thankfully it was finished in time, yet Tefeth’s forehead that begins to form droplets of sweat tells another tale of worry. Will it be pleasing enough to his Lord, for Xe’Reth even? He still doesn't know what kind of young man this is yet. For all he knows, Xe’Reth might be one of those arrogant little bastards that criticize every mistake in the armor, then asking for something much grander.

But surely he won’t do that, right?

Gulping as they arrive, Tefeth wipes off the sweat on his forehead, even cracking his voice as it comes out, “Aaa… Ahem” He coughs and goes bright red from hearing such a tone, while Maldoran chuckles at his nervous posture.

“L-Lord. Young Sir,” Tefeth tries again, bobbing his head at them. Though forcing a smile at Xe’Reth, he flows his arm to the armor. “Hopefully it’s pleasing enough to your tastes. However… now that I take a closer look at you, you have a particular build… You’re only seventeen, aren’t you?”

“That… I am, Tefeth,” Xe’Reth replies, raising his eyebrow in curiosity while his smile never leaves his mouth.

On the way here, Recina was rather open about her grievances of finding out what Celyssa and her family did, making Xe’Reth listen to her raving. Nevertheless, she knows when to keep her mouth shut in front of untrusted servants that skulk around the Citadel.

The sheer number of patronizing comments has her fuming at Annettria’s new pompous way of acting as though she has kept herself in check all these years. Finally blooming her real character.

“I did see the measurements that were brought, astounding, really. Though… Sir… You must train almost every single day…” Tefeth is in awe. For being a blacksmith, he must know the physique of the human body. Size, weight, height. Sure Xe’Reth’s body isn’t anything special if he was in his mid-twenties, but seventeen in this day and age? That kind of dedication is truly marvelous. Worthy of respect. Xe’Reth also bears himself with pride, his movements, precise and calculated. But his quiet steps is something entirely different.

“Hehehe, I know, right?!” Maldoran bellows with such a grin, wrapping his arm around Xe’Reth to squeeze him close. A brotherly embrace. “If I didn’t know his age when I first met this little rascal, I would think he’s already in his twenties! Astonishing indeed!!”

“Indeed, indeed!” Tefeth nods as the chuckling Maldoran lets go of Xe’Reth. “A brother-in-law worthy of your Honored sister! But, Sir, do you have any combat… no wait, you aren’t of legal age to fight down by the gates. Though, what I’ve heard is that you’re—were an archer for the Ebon Wall… In Lady Madelyn’s squad weren’t you?”

“Ehem, Madelyn is no longer a part of that anymore, Tefeth. She and the boy are joining Tertinum’s middle gate’s squadron,” Maldoran intervenes, growing rather sullen by the mention of his youngest sister.

“What?!” Tefeth exclaims in horror, “B-But Lord, you can’t be seriously thinking of letting her join such a dangerous place?! Lady Madelyn is too frail! A refined young lady! She has no combat experience. Even her archery skills are subpar, Lord. I heard what happened in Lady Malinda’s wing yesterday, but aren’t you going too far?”

“Oh ho… am I?” Maldoran scoffs at Tefeth’s words, crossing his arms. “That’s why I’m throwing her to the Battle-Maidens to toughen her up. And if you knew what she threatened Xe’Reth with, you wouldn’t be defending her. Even she has come to terms with my verdict. But honestly, I’m not so stupid as to actually let her join the battle if the enemy comes.”

This side of Tefeth; defending the children of the former Lord and Lady Tertin from any harm. Madelyn, though her personality isn’t something desirable, Tefeth swore to serve the Tertin household. He loves Maldoran, Merissa, Madelyn and Malinda equally. He just can’t help but worry about their well-being, likewise, does his wife.

Hearing Maldoran’s last sentence, Tefeth sighs out in relief, “Thank you, my Honored Lord. I think I would’ve died of worry if Lady Madelyn fought down by the gates. It’s truly a horrible place that you know all too well, so does Lady Malinda.”

“Indeed, the weight of the aftermath has already started to cause damage to my Mistress’ mind a couple of years back. She suffers from all the killing, from all the bloodshed. I don’t want her to continue having such a life, but it’s ultimately her decision,” Recina says, glancing at Xe’Reth. “Hmm… But it’s not just her decision anymore, now is it?”

“Well, it would surely give ease to Tertinum if she instead of being in the army, she would join Celyssa to help the domain. She has been educated in such matters. While I, on the other hand, have studied military subjects since I wasn’t the first heir in mind. But because my sister refused such a burden, I stepped in to take it upon myself,” Maldoran explains, scratching his prickling beard. “Hmm… Ah, such things are for a later date. Let’s have you, my boy, try on my old armor. Shall we?”

‘Celyssa really did push him, huh?’ Both Xe’Reth and Recina thinks that at the same time. Maldoran must’ve just went with what his wife urged him to do. A mindless brute. But innocent nonetheless.

“Sure,” Xe’Reth answers while Maldoran urges him forth with his hand on Xe’Reth’s back. “Do I need to take off my clothes before suiting up? Or…?”

“That you do,” Tefeth says, nodding. “It has comfortable layers of thin fabric and leather on the inside, so the plate doesn’t leave scrape marks on one’s skin, also the finest chainmail. Though since it’s heavy, not light plate, it might take some time getting used to. However, this armor is only for a short period… until I and my wife… Ah, speaking of my wife—There she comes.”

“Sir Xe’Reth…” Tefeth begins with a hand flowing out to welcome his wife. “Let me introduce you to my gorgeous partner in life, Karnya Orilldera.” He gives a gracious bow to be formal, which causes Karnya to cover her mouth in laughter as she arrives.

“Oh honey, you’re embarrassing me. Giving me such a grand introduction to our newly arrived guest,” Karnya chuckles, slapping her husband's shoulder in a tease. And with her own body bending to give a curtsy, her face lights the whole room in warmth. Her smile, so bright, and so very real. None of her expressions she gave her daughter, only her absolute honor in having such esteemed people in her home. “Honored Lord. Battle-Mistress. It’s truly heartwarming to have you in our modest home. Welcome.”

Arcing back up to take a good look at Xe’Reth with her blazing eyes, never removing her smile, she bobs her head, “Ah, welcome. You must be Xe’Reth, aren’t you? It’s such a pleasure finally meeting you.”

She stretches out her hand, which Xe’Reth in an instant takes a hold. A recently washed hand that still has moisture. Karnya even clutches with both of her hands to shake as though she never wants to let go. But she does let go, after thirty seconds of being in admiration. It’s her Honored Lady’s future husband. Someone that’ll reach such a height. Not giving him such a handshake would be a crime… is what she thinks at least.

However, if they knew how she treats her daughter in such a manner as before, they would probably look at her in disgust.

All because Tenrya humiliated her mother right in front of the entire Tertin family, which Tenrya didn’t mean to do. But her mother, she takes her belief to a whole other level; her belief to her Honored Ones and to her Queens.

Those who desecrates one’s own parents without cause must suffer continual atonement. Punishment, it must be delivered to heal the wounded one’s grief and misery.

If it weren’t for her daughter… she wouldn’t have gotten such a sentence of never gaining forgiveness… from her former Lord and Lady. The greatest failure one can ever commit as a blacksmith. An heir that crafted a faulty weapon, then giving it to Lady Malinda to use when she battled down by the middle gate. A sword that shattered, causing her great harm if she couldn’t handle such an awkward situation.

Yet Karnya’s humiliation is highly exaggerated. But not for Karnya. For her, she considers it to be sacrilege. She, herself, is also a failure for birthing such a disappointment. But exaggerated nevertheless. An exaggeration that has climbed too high to ever be forgiven in Karnya’s eyes. Because she can never get her forgiveness from her deceased Lord and Lady.

Something she wanted above all else before their passing.

Letting go of Xe’Reth’s hand, she directs her pair to her lap, clutching them together in prayer. While Xe’Reth, he notices her red palm. Only one palm. The other one isn’t that red. Though he puts it out of his mind, for now. Though the murmur of weeping coming from upstairs… He just smiles. It’s not his business to meddle, yet. Since this blaze-haired woman, she’s too happy with her beaming expression.

“I heard what you were about to do. So I apologize for interrupting. Please, do not let me keep you busy,” Karnya says with a bow, taking a step to the side to display the monstrous armor of pure obsidian.

A mineral-like material used to replicate the Ebon Wall’s jet black color. A crystalized rock that needs other components to compromise for its shortcomings. Yet in its current state, it’s an expensive and well-crafted armor for an Honored One. It hasn’t been used for more than fifteen years. Getting it to fit Xe’Reth though has taken a lot of energy from both Tefeth and Karnya.

If one looks close enough, the weariness is starting to sink in. Tefeth even tries to hide his mouth as he yawns, yet that just sounds out a rasping cough from him in embarrassment as Maldoran raises a curious brow.

But from Xe’Reth opening his mouth, Maldoran refrains to say anything.

“Hehe. No need to be so formal around me. I’m still getting used to all of this. Everyone knows where I came from,” Xe’Reth says as he leans forward to give a bow. Repaying their formality in full.

“One who’s beyond fortunate should spread that fortune, to the unfortunate, Sir Xe’Reth,” Karnya preaches, raising her bowing head to give Xe’Reth her most caring smile. “In the Queens’ handbook, it says that those who’re Honored Ones should marry those who’re lesser. Though most have abandoned such traditions centuries ago. But it warms my heart to have you in my presence; a living embodiment of the Fifth Queen’s edict. So I must show you my real respect, which I do have.”

Maldoran begins to chuckle, putting his arm around Xe’Reth again to squeeze his shoulder.

“That’s entirely accurate. Many have forgotten such traditions. But let us give praise to my sister’s choice. The High Priestess will surely give her blessing under such circumstance. Though… Hehe, what happened last night will make her raving mad. I look forward to seeing it.”

“Hmm, that’s very true. Xe’Reth and Malinda should’ve waited until marriage,” Karnya agrees, giving Xe’Reth her squinting eyes. However, she shakes her head, laughing, “But, hehe… since she has supported the Tertin line for so many years, she’ll give her blessing, that’s for sure.”

“Indeed! Don’t worry, son. She may be a priestess, but she knows who Lady Malinda is. And since her grandmother put this very High Priestess in Tertinum, she’ll bless you to the Divine Sky!” Tefeth too agrees, raising his fisted hands to give Xe’Reth his full support. He’s boiling over with such joy that Xe’Reth is so… unnobly. Not arrogant in the least. His smile spasms as it can’t ascend further.

Releasing his squeezing hand from Xe’Reth’s shoulder, Maldoran walks over to the armor, his old armor that’s full of memories. He sighs in remembrance while inspecting it. It’s memories of Theresa. Of her prowess; her beauty in combat that he had witnessed. And now her precious son will wear it.

It fills him with pride.

A son.

As Maldoran finishes his savoring, he turns to Xe’Reth who has removed his upper clothes.

“Aaah…!” Maldoran gasps as he goes wide-eyed with a shaking breath.

Xe’Reth has bandages all over his torso, bandages that show tiny spots of blood. Everyone gawks at him. Sure they noticed the neck patch, but they knew Madelyn gave him that. It’s widely spread in the Citadel. But these bandaged-up wounds? Maldoran’s eyes flail around Xe’Reth’s body, being in such panic.

Never in his wildest thoughts had he believed that he suffered so much from those torturers.

“Those bastards!! How dare they?!” Maldoran roars, clashing his feet on the wooden floor, even breaking it, which makes everyone jump in startlement. He shakes, his whole body convulses in pure anger.

“Maldoran, calm down. It’s okay—“

“It’s definitely not okay!” Maldoran roars, beginning to point with a raging finger at Xe’Reth’s chest. “Maybe… Maybe you shouldn’t after all go to the Ebon Wall. Yes, you’re recuperating from those… From those damned torturers!”

‘How can I be so thick?! They’re out there. They are still out there! Why aren’t the DLO doing their jobs?! I must have a word with Rissara immediately for her lack of charge after I’m finished here…’ Maldoran grumbles as he scratches his prickling chin. He scratches for his dear life!

Xe’Reth is wide-eyed indeed. He wasn’t expecting Maldoran to react in such a way.

Xe’Reth, Annettria, and the Matriarch only wanted to remove any suspicion since he has been walking around in Malinda’s quarters naked. So they used Xe’Reth’s blood that they drained to use on new bandages… to seem as if the wounds are still there.

‘Oh dear, I need to calm him down,’ Xe’Reth sighs inwardly. He starts to laugh, putting up his hand to calm the raging brute. “Heh, Maldoran. Easy, easy there! I’m feeling just fine. The wounds are closing up neatly. Tomorrow they… no, today they’ll stop bleeding. So no, Maldoran, I’m not canceling my journey to the Ebon Wall. And that’s final.”

Everyone again goes wide-eyed at Xe’Reth’s demanding tone. Talking in such a manner to the Lord of Tertinum without any fear. Recina, Tefeth, and Karnya gawk at him. But Maldoran, he crosses his arms as lips begin to pout. He has lowered eyebrows, though not understanding these feelings he has. These feelings of wanting to protect him, like a son, makes him conflicted.

“But, but,” Maldoran stutters with clenching teeth.

“No buts. Since Malinda isn’t going, I must go with Madelyn. I don’t want to appear weak. So please, let me go. I know you can make me not go. But please. Let me go to the Wall,” Xe’Reth beseeches with a pained smile, causing Maldoran to recoil.

It looks as if a son begs his father, which the three gawks at even more. Were their relationship this great already? In three mere days? They’re in confusion about all this. Recina, though, never heard anyone talking about those wounds he has, only the shoulder injury which she noticed when she first met him. Almost as if they never existed at all. Now that she sees them for herself, she growls. Not at Xe’Reth, but at the torturers, so does the Orilldera wife and husband.

“Fine!” Maldoran shouts, deciding Xe’Reth’s verdict. “But if you start feeling ill, return at once!”

“Will do,” Xe’Reth says with a smile that pierces the heart of the brute.

With him calming down, Maldoran sighs as his eyes wanders to his foot that’s currently over a broken wooden plank.

“Oh…” Maldoran voices in surprise, coughing, “I… I… We can take care of that later, hehe… Hahaha!”

“That we can,” Karnya chuckles, understanding Maldoran’s moment of fury entirely. If someone tortured either Tanya or Taryna, she would be furious too. Even destroying some weapons with her hammer wouldn’t satisfy her.

“Come, come, my boy,” Maldoran says with waving hands aiming at Xe’Reth who treads obediently to him. He glares at Xe’Reth’s wounds some more. He will indeed have a word with Rissara. Though he knows that she’ll be busy for the coming weeks in sentencing the city guard to their fates. ‘I guess after I’m done with my people, I’ll head to Rissara’s courtroom. Yes, having me there will make them understand that I’ll not tolerate the way the city guard have acted...’

“Maldoran, you okay?” Xe’Reth asks, seeing Maldoran’s squinting eyes that scan his bare upper body.

“Huh? Ah, yes, right. Let’s get you into my armor, shall we?” Maldoran offers with his outstretching arm.

“It would be my pleasure…”

……

…

It took some time, but with such care and worry for Xe’Reth’s wounded state, Tefeth and Karnya managed to fit the armor onto Xe’Reth’s body. It was a demanding process since Maldoran spoke out of his concerns about every little face movement that Xe’Reth made, which made him cease from moving his expression at all.

Now with the armor on, the anxiety rises even more from the Orillderas. Can Xe’Reth move in it? Will it breakdown? Is it too heavy for him in his current state? All kinds of thoughts pop into their minds. Recina though, she nods her head on impulse, liking how it looks on Xe’Reth because his build is what many men desire. It suits him. Like her own custom made armor.

Xe'Reth fists one of his gauntlets to test it out, sounding out the plate of finger parts riveted together. Liking it, he un-fists it to gaze at the plated knuckles that have curved-out spikes for punching. Though they’re small to not be overly protruding.

Its pauldrons are in different sizes; one with a neck guard for when one is supposed to form a shield wall, the other is just for shoulder protection.

The lower breastplate arcs as it goes higher with multiple layers to make it easier to bend forward and backward. It points slightly outward at the top to protect the neck area a bit more. The vambraces also have protruding spikes coming out from the elbows, while the knees have it too. Even in front of the plate boots have pointy edges. An armor of deadly proportions. Armor for the front line of the Ebon Wall. To be as menacing as it can be to frighten the sea of whiteness.

“H-How does it feel? Come, take a couple of steps. And please, do tell us if it fits loosely or too tight,” Tefeth asks and worries, but the expression on Xe’Reth’s face eases Tefeth’s heart tremendously. Because as Xe’Reth takes his first step forward, his eyebrows raise in surprise. The armor moves with him. Though there’s still that weight of the armor, however, it’s trivial matters that doesn’t bother him in the least. “Hmm… Excellent. Excellent indeed.”

“Do raise and move your arms and legs about. Bend forward and backward, side to side,” Karnya instructs, having gone to inspect Xe’Reth up close so she can witness the armor’s movement, to see if any of the parts act out of order. Which they don’t while Xe’Reth obediently does as she commands. He stretches his body until Karnya nods for him to stop, “I am pleased enough, how about you husband?”

“Yes, I’m very, very, very please also,” Tefeth concludes while lifting Xe’Reth’s limbs by himself to listen to the sounds it produces.

It’s an outstanding armor, but highly exaggerated since Xe’Reth isn’t going into battle. It’ll be an armor of status. The cost of this armor is the very reason they chose it, also because it was nearly the same size. But having put additional layers of fabric and leather, they were able to make it suitable for Xe’Reth’s thinner build. Nevertheless, it’s just a replacement armor. It’ll be switched out at a later date.

With the armor on, Xe’Reth’s build seems even bigger than his ripped state. Though still, he has his unique lean build for his age.

“And now missing is only the helmet, which you’ll not wear today because it’s not needed. Having your face show is better than having it hidden. It would be respectless to have a helmet on at an Honored assembly. Formality is above all else for newcomers,” Maldoran says as he comes with his hands holding a belt buckle which has a scabbard with a sword in its resting place.

Maldoran kneels down to attach it to Xe’Reth’s waist.

“Bare it with pride, for that sword is my father’s. A man of no equal. This very blade has seen hundreds of years of war. It’s one of our family heirlooms.” Maldoran explains as he rises. His hand lands on Xe’Reth’s shoulder, staring into his eyes. “And now I’m passing it to you. This is a decision of importance that I’ve made. Because you’re not really a Tertin yet, it goes against our traditions. But hopefully, you and Malinda will produce many children in the future so you can pass it on when the time comes.”

‘Unlike myself… Merissa… My daughter… Forgive me…’

“It’s a weapon of history. Of past family members. Only Tertin men have wielded it, fought with it, killed with it. Now it’s yours and Malinda’s.” He frowns, gulping as he then breathes out with a shaking breath, becoming too emotional. “…Yours and Malinda’s first born child will be the heir to the Tertin line. I’ve come to terms with it without telling my wife. Because my daughter isn’t fit to rule. She’ll never be my heir. And honestly…” He turns his head to gaze at the eyes of sadness filling the other three. “…I don’t believe my precious child will live a long life. Her condition is too grave to just dismiss, which my wife has. She wants Merissa to succeed me. An utterly foolish notion.”

Gazing back into Xe’Reth’s globes of darkness, he finishes with, “Give Malinda children. It doesn’t matter if it’s boys or girls. Just be a man of the Tertins. I’ll convince her to retire from the army. While Recina, she’ll support you with her father who helps Madelyn until my return from seeing to this mess my wife has caused—I have caused.”

‘And what if I can’t give Malinda a child? What then?’ Is what Xe’Reth wants to ask, but refrains from it by nodding instead with squinting eyes and lowered eyebrows, giving Maldoran such a firm answer, “You can count on me. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Good, good. However, all of you, what I’ve said here remains here, understand?” Maldoran warns as he gives all of them his glaring eyes, which they nod to in compliance. “Alright then, hmm… For today, you won’t be needing my father’s shield. It’ll be sent to your quarters with all the necessary equipment for keeping everything up to par. And all those other weapons, return them to their place for when they’re needed. Of course, the boy’s clothes too.”

“Our Honored Lord commands,” Tefeth and Karnya bows in unison.

Recina, though, she’s thankful to her Lord, for the very reason that he isn’t entirely unwise. He has his own decisions that he makes without his wife’s consent, which she smiles at. ‘So much has happened today… But hopefully, it will be a calm day at the assembly… Hopefully. And that both Madelyn and this boy doesn’t start anything with the other Honored Ones. I must keep them on tight leashes. Though when I get back… I’ll forward what Maldoran said to Ereanna.’

Clapping his hands, then placing one on Xe’Reth’s shoulder again, Maldoran says, “Then that’s that. I must return to my officers and my wife to continue deciding what to do about the damned city guard’s restructuring. Much to do, much to talk about. So I’ll be seeing you later at dinner my boy.” Switching to the Orillderas, he beams at them. “And great work today you two. I know you’re tired. I can see it in your eyes. But inspect Xe’Reth’s armor a little more before he leaves.”

Almost forgetting Recina, Maldoran narrows his eyes as he points at her, “Make sure nothing happens to the boy. I’m counting on you, Battle-Mistress… Though… If some of the Honored Ones tries something, I’ll deal with the aftermath. But my boy, carry yourself with pride, let none put you down. However, be wary of Honored challenges. Many of the younger Ones are more prone to request a challenge, which is why I’ve told Malinda long ago to decline whoever dares. Because we’re a small family. As such, we can’t act recklessly. We don’t have many allies, only a few Honored households.”

“And do keep an eye on Madelyn, so she doesn’t spew out something dangerous… Though, I’ve already told Reconon to keep Madelyn in line.” He flicks his hand. “But enough about that. What happens happens. I’ll deal with the consequences, no matter how big they are.”

“Don’t you worry Lord, Lady Madelyn will surely act like a proper Honored Lady of this household when she’s outside!” Tefeth shouts, nodding to himself.

Maldoran coughs out, “I… I’m not so sure about that… But one can only pray when it involves her ever-changing mood.”

“Anyways, enough dallying around here, see you later!” Maldoran roars as he charges past them, heading towards where they came from.

Disappearing from the fours' eyes, shouts of goodbyes from the Orilldera husband and wife rings into his ears.

‘I’m glad that it fits him. Yes, very pleased indeed. Heh-Hehehe.’

…

With Xe’Reth and Recina remaining for a while longer, the Orilldera couple begins rubbing their hands together as they crouch beside Xe’Reth to inspect everything once more.

“Now then, let’s see to the armor, so nothing comes off on your journey to the Ebon Wall!” Tefeth declares with a teeth-showing smile.

“Spread your legs and raise your arms, dear. Stand still also,” Karnya orders but with such a caring tone.

While Recina, she has gone to sit down on the living room’s couch, recovering slightly from standing in her heavy armor, to wait for them to finish. ‘Today too… Today I’ll be spending a lot of time with my father… I’ll have him explain himself. Why didn’t he tell me…? Why?!’

Frowning, Recina crosses her arms as her gaze moves to the blazing hearth… making her eyes have a battling fire in them.

……

…

The Citadel and Tertinum’s cathedral, they correspond with each other every single day to sound out the different times. And now, on top of the Citadel’s Innermost portcullis where a giant bell suspends, waves a servant with a flaming torch, signaling to a priestess who watches out for that very light, making her signal another priestess who stands at the ready to release the mechanism to start moving the cathedral’s bell.

The Citadel echoes first, but only a couple of seconds later, the cathedral’s high tower sounds out to declare that the time is twelve o’clock.

As the reverberation spreads into the Citadel, Reconon – Recina’s father – turns his head towards the sound, which makes his eyes travel to a nearby clock. ‘I better hurry.’

He begins to take longer strides instead of taking his time to his destination, towards Madelyn’s quarters. Reconon had stayed a little longer after his Lord’s disappearance, but only a few minutes since he needed to prepare himself.

He hadn’t put on his heavy armor before, yet now, he wears it like the man he is – the Battle-Master of Tertinum.

His steps boom on the carpeted floor as he continues to make his way through this decorated corridor. It’s empty of servants, which raises his one brow in wonder. They’re usually everywhere he goes when he’s on the first floor. But in Madelyn’s wing? He sees none.

Have they been dismissed? Surely not, because Madelyn is a demanding Mistress is what he knows. If anything were out of order, she would reprimand the guilty party too much. Nevertheless, his relationship with her isn’t as bad as one would think. Rather, Madelyn thinks of him as someone special to the family. Like a grandfather.

It’s because he served her father, a loving role model for anyone who had the pleasure of meeting him. Like Malinda, Madelyn was taught how to dance, and her father even encouraged her painting. To do something worth of such a spectacular skill.

Madelyn’s mother, though, she was too watchful of her little daughter. Always kept her within arms reach. While Malinda on the other hand, she let her live her life as she saw fit as long as she would sacrifice her life for the family when the time came, which hasn’t come yet.

Everyone in the Citadel knows that Malinda abandoned her duties to mourn when their parents died, but what most doesn’t know is, is that Madelyn’s sorrow was even greater.

Without having her mother to guide her as she did, Madelyn spiraled down into total depression, into laziness, into anger, into a shopping spree. Only when she was forced to create her now abandoned archery squad, was she set on a path to ascendancy...

Reconon shakes his silver-haired head, booming his plate boots on the floor.

Both of his Honored Ladies have suffered as he has; losing his wife, losing his Lord and Lady Tertin. His days are numbered. The least he can do for the remaining years of his lifespan is to help his former Lord’s youngest daughter. To set her on a right path in life now that she has been caught.

He sighs.

‘Love is hard, my Honored Lady. You can’t always get what you want, no matter how much influence you have.’ But he frowns as he rounds a corner, eyeing a woman who stands outside of Madelyn’s chambers. A woman he knows all too well. ‘Right… Jessica joined Madelyn some years back. Haven’t seen much of her since… since…’

Shaking his head, he stops brooding about his past, to take a deep breath while closing his eyes instead, collecting his thoughts. But again, he frowns as his lids open. ‘Why is she wearing her old uniform? I haven’t heard anything about her ascendance…’

Coming closer to the cross-armed woman who has a rather tender smile, Reconon lowers his upper body, sounding out the chainmail under the plated armor.

“It has been awhile, Jessica,” he says still in his curtsying state of showing respect to an old acquaintance of his. Someone whose heart he shattered long ago. Someone who still has remaining feelings which haven't quenched at all over the years, only risen to finally release it upon this very man in front of herself.

“It has been a long while, yes,” Jessica greets, bobbing her head and giving such a polite curtsy by bending her legs while raising her handmaiden dress slightly.

Making eye-contact, she gives him an even gentler expression of pure satisfaction. He’s still as handsome as she remembers. Even with the years laid thick. Which catches him off guard. She’s radiating at him with such brightness.

“You’re here to pick up my Mistress?” Jessica inquires, but knowing the answer already she flows her hand to a fabric-covered seat for two people by the wall in front of the double doors, even moving her feet toward it. “Come, let’s sit here for awhile because Madelyn is in the middle of putting on her lightest armor.”

Sitting down, she pats the cushion next to her, “Come. It must be tiring to wear such an outfit, considering your age.”

A breath of fresh air is what Reconon experiences right now. Has she forgotten their history? Reconon chuckles as he, too, goes to sit down next to her, “Heh, indeed. The years have hit hard the past cycles. I don’t know how many battles I can commit to any longer.” He raises his one brow. “But Jessica… When did you—“

“Become a handmaiden… again?” Jessica cuts him off, smiling. “A recent vacancy has opened up. And since I fit the most – being her mother’s handmaiden – I gained back my position. Just today actually.”

“But—“

“Who…?” She does it again, beginning to chuckle at his recoiling head of surprise. However, she narrows her eyes. “You know full well who I am. So does the others… The influence I have over many women and girls are… dangerous for the others in the Sanctuary.”

“Indeed…” Reconon agrees, growing quiet. “But who? The twins? Or that other girl… Liriana was it?”

“That’s the correct girl,” Jessica admits, starting to chuckle even more. So much that she has to cover her mouth. “That girl… Can you believe this? She spied on Madelyn on behalf of Celyssa. It was too obvious. And now she has been dealt with. End of discussion.”

“Obvious, yes, but Madelyn let her go just like that?” Reconon asks in confusion. Madelyn wouldn’t rest until she gained her revenge on the wicked.

“Did I say anything about letting the girl go? No, she’s a handmaiden, not a mere servant. As such, her life is no longer hers. Her life belongs to Madelyn. A grave mistake on Celyssa’s part. It’ll cost the head-handmaiden her daughter. Unfortunate, but justly deserved,” Jessica says as though it means nothing to her, which it does. It means absolutely squat. Liriana will now be a pawn to be used against her Mistress’s enemy.

Though Jessica has no plans for Liriana at this moment. She’ll let Madelyn take out her rage on her.

This information, it’s highly disturbing, but for Reconon who knows about the ongoings inside the Sanctuary, he can just sigh. Jessica hasn’t changed for the better at all. Still as cold-blooded as usual. Still as ruthless as she was taught to be.

“What’s going to happen to the girl?”

“Oh Reconon…” she snickers, putting her hand on his shoulder to test the water. “You shouldn’t have emotions towards an enemy, you know that. But who cares about such an insignificant traitor.”

“You’re not going to do something that can bring in the DLO, right?” Reconon worries, clasping hold of her hand that rests on his shoulder, removing it. “She’s just a child that was… forced to spy on Madelyn. She’s innocent.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll not be found dead in an alleyway in the City if that’s what you’re worried about…” Jessica answers with truth. But smiling, she adds, “She’ll be incinerated if it comes to that.”

“…” Reconon just glares at her, causing her to give a somewhat innocent wink with her eye.

“Ah, yes!” Jessica startles herself. She was so caught up speaking to him that she almost forgot her permission that she got from Madelyn.

“Reconon… My dear Reconon,” Jessica calls as though tears will flow out of her eyes at any moment, forcing him to take her hands. She squeezes his gauntlets as hard as she can. “I recently returned from the Sanctuary, and I’ve excellent news for the both of us! Though... it’s rather selfish on my part.”

Jessica’s eyes, they soften, and her smile, it curves upward in bliss. She gazes so deep into his widened globes.

“The Matriarch has agreed to my proposal that I just put out! About our marriage!”

………

……

…