A brushing sound pulled him out of his despair-filled reverie. Raising his head, he saw Cartus pulling out a cigar from a small bag.

“Some fire?” He asked calmly.

“I-i will have Robert bring some,” Joseph replied dazedly.

“Thank you.”

Moving more out of habit than from conscious effort, the lawyer went to the door and gave his orders. After some moments, a concerned-looking Robert entered with a lit candle. The guard didn’t ask questions, leaning instead to give the old man access to the small fire. Done that, he got out, carefully closing the door behind him.

Eyes closed, Cartus calmly inspired, the tip of the cigar turning red. After a moment, he exhaled a stream of smoke from his nose.

Still shaken by how the meeting had ended, Joseph was at loss. Why didn’t he say anything? Why did he react so calmly to what had been an obvious disaster?

Speechless, he waited.

The change happened smoothly and abruptly. An instant earlier, Cartus had the cigar between two fingers, watching the smoke billow gently into the air, the picture of casual relaxation. A moment later, Joseph completely missing the moment of the change, those piercing gray eyes were on him, pinning him to his chair, instantly snatching his attention.

“Probably there is no need for me to say it.” Cartus’ voice was a slow rumble. “But this meeting has been a disaster.”

Joseph felt a flush. That slow, dense disappointment in that voice seized at his chest like a vice.

“I am terribly sorry,” he stammered. “They have always been at each other’s throat, but never like that.” He trailed off into nothing, knowing that it was a pathetic excuse even while saying it.

Frustration and despair clawed at him. The room felt suffocating now.

“I-i guess that it would better if we close off now. I thank you for having come and…”

Cartus didn’t let him finish.

“None of that, young man,” he said with a casual shrug. “This is nothing but a single loss. It can be recovered from.”

Joseph watched him with bewilderment. Nothing but a single loss? But…!

“Can i offer you something to smoke?”

The lawyer blinked. “Smoke? I…”

But Cartus was already lighting another cigar to his own and passing it to him.

Mechanically, Joseph took it. The cigar was soft but firm, giving off a heady smell that attested to its quality.

He turned to Cartus. The old man watched him with an arched brow.

Joseph was hit by a deja-vu. His father, he remembered, staring him down from across the room. The same domineering attitude, the same overwhelming presence that he couldn’t but be swept away from.

Mechanically, he put the cigar in his mouth and inspired.

Heavy smoke immediately filled his throat, burning its way down in his chest and settling there like a cloud of brimstone. He choked on it, and erupted in a fit of coughing, spewing smoke from mouth and nose.

“It’s… it’s strong!” And he was a weakling that couldn’t stand it, but that he didn’t say.

Cartus’ eyes narrowed a bit, twinkling with something that could be amusement.

Joseph felt thoroughly silly. “Sir Cartus, i don’t think that…”

Cartus raised a hand, cutting him off. “No words now. Your mind is clouded. Take a moment to clear it.”

Joseph found himself unable to deny those gray eyes. He clamped down his mouth and obeyed.

For some moment, the two stood in silence, just smoking.

At the beginning and for quite some time, Joseph felt just ridiculous. What was he even doing?

Steadily, though, despite his mind’s attempts to cling to anxiety, he felt himself become calmer ad calmer. The cigar’s smoke was heavy and cloying, but after the first burn, it left his throat tingling pleasurably, providing him at the same time with slight lightheadedness from which doubts slid away like snow from a tilted roof. He had been a great smoker back in the day before his frail body forced him to give up on it, but even he couldn’t recognize the brand of the tobacco. Still, the quality was undeniable.

In the end, with a cleared head and his lungs having reached their limits, he exhaled a last wisp of smoke and smudged what remained of the cigar on an ashtray he had set for his guests. Very ironic that he was the one to use it.

“I think that’s enough for me,” he sighed and coughed a little.

“Indeed.” Cartus nodded. The man’s cigar was but a stub. Considering how few pulls he had taken, it was impressive how much smoke he could put down in a single mouthful. “I heard voices about your health problems.”

“Nothing that’s worth to be talking about,” Joseph dodged. His health was a topic he wasn’t keen on discussing.

Thankfully, Cartus chose to be polite and didn’t press.

With a sigh, Joseph relaxed on his chair. “I must thank you,” he said. “You were right. My mind needed some clearing.”

Cartus conceded the point with a nod. “Understandable.” He snorted, contempt and amusement mingling. “If anything, i admire the fact you didn’t storm out of here like those two have.”

Despite his fondness for his old friend, Joseph felt dragged in the animosity. Ah, if only those two had listened to him…!

He let go of it a moment later. No point on pointing fingers. It was petty, and Saul and Edward had their own circumstances.

He said as much to Cartus.

“Spoken like a true lawyer,” the Guildmaster agreed, making him fidget a bit for the compliment. “Would you mind sharing the story behind their attitudes?”

Joseph hesitated. “Why?”

“Why?” Cartus repeated, arching an eyebrow.

Joseph knew that it wasn’t wise to question. He should have been grateful only for the fact that Cartus hadn’t just disappeared the moment it was clear where the wind blew. And still, the question tugged at him, and he needed to know.

“You saw how divided our faction is,” he said. “Why do you still remain? Many, even more powerful in the city than you, would have already taken that door out of here.”

Cartus didn’t answer right away. For a long moment, he watched him, those gray eyes holding something undecipherable into them. Joseph was intimidated but didn’t avert his gaze. That answer, he felt, was of the utmost importance.

“Young man,” Cartus’ voice was a little more than a murmur, “do you know what justice is?”

Joseph was taken aback by the sudden question. Still, he replied.

“It’s… doing what is right.”

Cartus nodded slowly.

“And who will uphold justice if not ourselves? Who will stand against those that would do evil if not ourselves? We will shirk away from our duties, hoping that someone else will uphold it in our place? Wouldn’t that make us just as culpable as the real responsible? If you had the choice to do something and you didn't take it, the answer is yes. Upholding justice is one of the greatest endeavors that a man can give himself to. Comfort and security are nothing before it. And Lucius Cartus won’t be a criminal, nor he won’t shirk from his duties.”

He fell silent, gazing pointedly at him.

Joseph was left speechless. Those words resonated with the deepest reaches of his soul, the principles that had brought him on the path of the lawyer, and helped him not to stray from his course, no matter what difficulty could ambush him on the road.

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

There and then, Joseph Corwell was conquered. All the doubts he had nurtured toward the Guildmaster crumbled away like sand in the wind. Lucius Cartus, he realized, was more than exceptional, he was one of a kind, one of the few ready to take up arms in defense of justice and law.

Moved, he lowered his head.

“Thank you.”

Cartus just nodded grimly.

Some time was needeed for the lawyer to regain his composure.

“So,” Cartus began once that happened, “now i would be very interested in hearing what’s the matter with those two of earlier.”

Joseph sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time, don’t we?”

Joseph smiled, only partially ruefully. “That we do.”

Thankfully, there were water pitches already set. Joseph drank a glass to prepare himself.

“It all harkens back to the beginning of the city.” He put the now empty glass on the table. “Sir Cartus, what do you know about our city’s history?”

“Not nearly as i wish. Please, speak like you would to someone completely ignorant.”

Joseph nodded. Somehow, he found that hard to believe. Still, no point on fussing over it. If anything, saying everything would only avoid holes in the narrative.

“I’ll try.” Joseph watched the hands with which he clutches his knees, putting his ideas in order.

Then, he began.

“We have to return to the time of the Catastrophe, two centuries ago. You see, back then Avurran was much less populated than it is right now. It was a land of dense forests and sparse villages, where the people barely scraped a living by working small fields and cutting trees. If you can imagine such a thing.”

Cartus nodded with a small, enigmatic smile.

“Well, that ended when the Catastrophe hit. You surely know the stories: magical disasters shock the land, poisoning and burning, some of them still do. There was a massive resurgence of magical creatures, the infrastructure holding the Old Kingdom afloat went down; riots, rebellions. In the end, chaos, with all its… unpleasantness.”

“They said that it was the Gods’ wrath.” Cartus’ interruption was barely a murmur.

“Yes, that’s what the Flamelings say.” Joseph adjusted one of his wristbands with uneasy movements. “Personally, i am not much of a religious person. I wouldn’t know.”

“Indeed. Please, continue.”

“Yes. Well, the Flamelings stepped in to fill the void. They catered to the people and tried to sort out the disorder. But how can you stop an entire civilization from going down? Initially, their numbers and efforts simply weren’t enough. The people were desperate and words of incoming redemption don’t save you from a Scar ravaging your land or a monster smashing your door down.”

“I suppose that many chose to escape.”

“Exactly. Many just took what they could carry and ran. North, south, east, west; between the monsters and the Scars, everywhere was game. Still, the majority came here. Avurran had been hit far less than the eastern lands. What few Scars we had we sealed away, or they have dissipated on their own long ago. But there was still a big problem.”

“Magical creatures.”

“Indeed. Waves of monsters came from the forests, fey crazed by waves of magic, aberrants born by the chaotic energies or simply creatures of the deep woods that sensed the chance and came to seize it. The Avurrani were already a warrior people back then, used to repel the incursion against their farms. But that size of conflict was far too much for them. Many villages were pillaged and razed to the ground, the rest manned palisades and dug ditches. They held on, but only barely.”

“That’s when the refugees came.”

“Yes. Many men and women, haggard and barely standing, carrying only a few possessions and their children. They didn’t make for a great addition, but it didn’t matter. They were new hands to carry weapons, and so they were welcomed. Like that, the villages grew became fortresses and towns. Time passed, and what was only defense turned to attack. With spear and sword, the Avurrani reclaimed what they had lost. In the meanwhile, the Fey had built their chaotic domains and the monsters had set their brutish hovels. But they lacked organization and so they fell and were repulsed into the forests.”

Joseph drank some water, then resumed.

“The Old Aristocracy dates back to that time. They were the sons and daughters of the counts and dukes that had held sway over the villages before the Cataclysm. Men and women born and bred to lead and command. Or they were just individuals that by their virtues or the respect afforded to them had climbed to positions of power. Whatever their origins, they were the ones that kept the Avurrani together. They led the charge during the assault against the forest dwellers or coordinated the defenses when monsters knocked at the doors. They wrote laws and made sure that they were respected. Generals and champions, mayors and judges. No all of them deserved the power they were entrusted with, but it’s still thanks to them that Avurran exists. In time, they formed a caste tied together by the virtues they had built over the decades: martial strength, property, leadership, civic work and protection of the subjects.”

“Property?”

“Oh yes.” Joseph was a little embarrassed. “As you can imagine, the old nobles were already rich and with vast properties, especially in the logging and agricultural sectors. More often than not, if weren’t nobles to be chosen, the people of the villages usually went for the richest amongst them. They were usually the most influential already and the step seemed obvious. Those lacking economical means took advantage of their newfound influence to raise their families’ standard.” A bit hurriedly, Joseph waved his hands in front of his face. “Oh, don’t think that it was something done with illegal means. If anything, someone could reprimand the Old Nobility for its obsessive attachment to honesty. It was one of the main reasons they managed to remain in power during those troubled times and now it’s a cornerstone of their identity.”

“You seem fond of them.”

“It is so obvious?” Joseph chuckled, somewhat embarrassed. “I guess that i cannot avoid being partial over this topic. You see, the Corwell belongs to the Old Aristocracy. We have a rich tradition of service to the city and adherence to justice.”

“I see. Magnificent. Truly something to be proud of.”

Joseph felt a flicker of pride at the controlled but earnest admiration in Cartus’ voice. “Indeed,” he said. “It’s my greatest honor to be the latest scion of this distinguished dynasty. Even if maybe i am somewhat not what the founders would approve of…”

“Mh? What did you say?”

Joseph coughed a little, secretly grateful that Cartus hadn’t heard him right. Robert was right. He really needed to learn to control his old insecurities. Especially to keep them from reaching his mouth at the wrong moments.

“Anyway, as i was saying.” He hurried to leave the topic behind. “After the period of regression, it came one of expansion. The villages became towns and the towns became cities. Woods were felled and lost lands were reclaimed. Fey were pushed back, monsters were defeated. It was a time of rebirth. People felt that they could rebuild what their forefathers had destroyed. The Flamelings’ doctrine hadn’t managed to reach this far yet, but their message was heard loud and clear: magic provoked the Cataclysm. The people took it at heart. Magic in all forms was banned, mages were hunted down. It still happens.”

“…Indeed.”

Joseph took Cartus’ slight change of tone as a sign of unease, something that he shared.

“It’s a deeply unpleasant business, with which we can luckily avoid mingling with. As i said, i lack the expertise to speak about these matters. In this case, i consider myself lucky for it.”

Cartus nodded stiffly.

Josrph continued: “As you can imagine, there were wars. The Breaking of the Black Thorn, the Battle of Bloodfield, the Razing of Castle Fang. Any tavern has a minstrel singing about these events. What it matters to know is that monsters and Fey were repulsed back into their woods, and humanity advanced. We call this period the Reconquest. It was a time of valor and great undertakings, of new beginnings. More and more people locked to Avurran during those years, hoping to take part in what was felt like a collective rebirth. And that was, then,” Joseph hesitated, “the Cities crossed paths.”

Cartus nodded slowly. “And with that zeal for expansion…”

Joseph sighed, passing his kerchief over his forehead. “I always ask myself why it is our neighbors in the east that have been called the Seven Cities and not us. You see, battling for your city creates patriotism, a sense of community. It cannot be different. Problem was, the people of those times couldn’t see beyond the walls of their cities. How could they, after decades having considered them the end of the civilized world? What was beyond them was the other, almost always the enemy.”

Gorren nodded. Us and them.

“In the beginning, relations were cordial, if a bit strained. Why didn’t you help when we needed it? What do you want now? Why should we trust you? Those were common thoughts. Yes, bonds were forged through fighting the non-humans, but the direst phase had already ended. There wasn’t a need for great confederations, and each city preferred to look at its own problems rather than open up.”

“I guess that problems started to appear…”

“It’s all so very lamentable.” Joseph’s expression was one of shame. “With the non-humans being pushed back, the cities found themselves with fewer and fewer distractions to take their attention away from each other. Each was a fortress, commanded by a warrior aristocracy, used to violence to resolve their problems, full of patriotism and with a thirst for expansion. There were squabbles over borders, over anything and everything: that silver mine is in our territory so it belongs to us; but the family owning it lives in our city, so it's us that should exploit it. Nobody was willing to back down, and so arguing only escalated. Soon, it turned to demands and threats. From there, jumping to violence was just a natural step. Raids, ambushes, even full-on battles.” Joseph sighed. “We call that time the Civil Wars. It’s not something that we remember very fondly. We were… foolish back then, hotblooded, and we saw enemies where there should have been friends.”

“There were many dead?”

“Not as many as it could have been, thankfully. Attacking cities directly was considered too extreme even during those times, and full-on battles were rare. That doesn’t mean that it hadn’t its share of deaths. It was a war of ambushes and raids, burned houses and pillaged villages. The peasants suffered the most of it, hanged to beams or forced to relocate elsewhere. The luckiest were those that managed to escape to caverns and swamps before the arrival of the city forces.”

“A bloody affair.”

“That it was, and a shameful one.”

“I imagine that the non-humans took their chance.”

“Not initially. They were still reeling from their previous losses, and those creatures are far too chaotic to move together quickly. But maybe you know more about them than i do.”

“I had some experience.”

“Ah, very interesting. If you’re willing to share, i’d like to hear about it someday.”

“Indeed. And then?”

“Ah, yes. Well, as i told you, the cities were busy bickering over everything and nothing. That gave time to the non-humans to get over their natural divisions and unite together.” Joseph’s gaze turned far away as he remembered the stories of those times. “Three Fey Courts had survived the Reconquest: the Court of Endless Revelry, the Court of Winter and the Court of the Golden Leaves. It was the Winter King that took the initiative. The stories say that he was a terrible thing, a giant of frigid cold and frozen bones. The Fey of his Court were creatures of metal and cold wind and marched as one behind him. He swept over the wildlands like his moniker, forcing the tribes of Trolls, forest Orcs and goblinoids to submit to him and bound entire packs of magical beasts at his will. Even the Giants allied with him. The other Courts refused to bend the knee, and so he destroyed the Court of Endless Revelry, burning their vineyards and trampling their huts in the dust. The Golden Queen tried to stop him, but she was defeated and forced to escape. Still, the Winter couldn’t pursue. The Eir Sen closed behind the fleeing Queen, barring his way. So he turned to the south. His armies swept through the lands of the humans like a tide of death, killing and burning everything they crossed. Taken by surprise, the northern Cities reeled. They mustered their defenses but it was all in vain. Those that tried to resist were razed to the ground, their ruins given over to the ice of Winter. Those that surrendered had their inhabitants enslaved. It was a dark time for Avurran.” Joseph raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “There was talking, a lot of it. Did people use to consider each other enemies only yesterday were supposed to fight together now? Messages were exchanged. Meetings were held. Too much mistrust, too many grudges. Alliances were formed, but they were limited things, made between the cities lacking strong enmities.” He sighed. “I like to think that in time the Avurrani would have come around and stood together as one. But there was no time. The Winter King swept down from the north and cities burned. It seemed that the Cities would face him divided.”

The lawyer held up a finger, eyes glimmering with fascination.

“That’s when he made his apparition.”

“He?”

Joseph clapped his hands together, beaming with admiration. “Adelwin Moore, the Black General. He was but a modest merchant and businessman, but where everybody faltered, he stood strong. He sold everything he had and used the money to equip a small army, that then he led into the field against the invaders. When every City was being pushed back, he won victory after victory. He attacked fey and monsters and destroyed them, protected villages and held forts. Wherever the invaders roamed, he was there and showed them defeat for the first time. Soon, his name became famous, a bane for the invaders and a banner for the Avurrani. More and more flocked to his banner. This city - back then had another name - elected him as the first Lord-Mayor and its inhabitants marched as one behind him.”

“A true hero indeed.” Cartus was divided between the interest for that incredible story and amusement for the almost child-like glee glowing in Joseph’s eyes.

“Ah, that he was,” the lawyer said with relish, “a true hero like we see only once each millennium. A mighty warrior, a great commander and a cunning politician all as one. He managed to unite the Avurrani behind him, every victory bringing him the friendship of another city. In the end, he had them all meet together at the Great Council. It was there that he managed to overcome decades of hostilities by forging the Covenant of the Free Cities, an alliance that bound all the Avurrani together. Then, he led their combined armies against the Winter King itself.” Joseph’s voice took a hushed tone. “Ah, the Battle of Frozen Blood. We still sing about it today, both in mourning for the losses and triumphantly for its victory. The Winter King was there, the snow piling up at his feet, his army of monsters and spirits clamoring around him. The Black General led the charge of the united Avurrani, and the two armies clashed with a din like thunder. Swords clashed, shields were splintered. For two days and two nights the battle raged, and the ground drank deep with blood. Eventually, the Winter King and the Black General met. The Fey monarch bristled with the chill of winter, snow crackled in his breath and ice covered the ground where he stepped. Still, Adelwin faced him without fear. The King unleashed a fierce ice storm, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. The Black General waded through the blizzard and sank his blade into the monster’s chest, destroying him forever. With the King’s fall, his army shattered. That day, the Court of Winter was destroyed, and Avurran shone.”

Joseph was entranced, inspired even. He noticed Cartus’ slightly amused expression a moment too late.

“Of course,” he hurried to add, flushing, “it has all happened a long time ago.”

“It’s part of your cultural heritage. It’s only obvious being proud of it.”

Joseph was relieved by Cartus’ delicacy. It didn’t completely dissipate the embarrassment for acting like a child though.

“Thanks to Moore, the Avurrani forged a united identity. Regretfully, it didn’t survive him. After his death, the old enmities flared up once again, even if they were mitigated by the shared victory.” Joseph sighed, heavily feeling the pettiness of today against the legends of the past. “The Council still operates but it’s just a shell of what it was. Today, it’s the major Cities that hold true control: Newcoast, Barringer, Toranil, Suffolk… and Blackstone, at least for now. We can only hope that this chaos doesn’t throw us down the ladder.”

“We return to the topic at hand.”

“Yes.” Joseph nodded, recognizing the slight push at coming to the point for what it was. “You see, one of the greatest accomplishments of the Black General was to forge a pact with the Orc tribes of the East. He gave them one of his treasures and saved the life of their Warlord, Turruk Blacktoof. In exchange, Turruk sent troops to help him against the Winter King and swore that his warriors wouldn’t attack Adelwin’s subjects and allies. After his death, the tribes splintered, but they never reneged on the pact. It is a religious matter, and they benefited too much from it. It is this pact that allows our merchants to cross the Wasteland, something that the Flamelings can’t do. With the end of the war, commerce flourished and, between the Silver Road and the maritime trade, many people rose to riches and power. Merchants, entrepreneurs of all kinds. They became rich, influential. They demanded rights and access to the government. Some of them even started to buy noble titles.”

“I guess that there was much uproar.”

“You could say that. The Old Aristocracy was up in arms. But there was little one could do. The merchants were the new lifeblood of the city. The old nobles were too fixated over war and battle to take up those new crafts. They considered it unworthy. Some families ended bankrupt and were forced to sell their titles.”

“The New Aristocracy.”

“Exactly. Merchants and entrepreneurs where the old Nobles are warriors and land-owners. As you can imagine, they don’t like each other. The Old Nobles consider the New barely better than thieves, unworthy of their titles. The New look down on the Old as musclehead idiots that gives themselves far too important. And this brings us to our two wayward friends. The Crofford is a family that can trace his lineage back to before the Cataclysm. The title of Duke is a remnant of the old Kingdom, even if it doesn’t conserve the same weight. On the other hand, Saul is a self-made man. He has amassed a fortune through trade and has representatives in all the major Guilds. His masterpiece has been buying the title of Count from a failing family, that, incidentally, was a close friend of the Crofford. You can imagine the result. He and Edward hate each other. If it wasn’t for the Crow, they would be the bitterest of enemies.”

“…and they hold great sway over their factions.”

“Regretfully, yes. There is a reason why they were chosen as representatives in this council. The merchants have great respect for Saul, and the same is fro Edward from the old families.” He shook his head. “If this is to work, we need them both. But you saw how things have gone.”

Cartus stood silent for some moment, deep in thought.

“What about the Lord-Mayor?”

Joseph grimaced in annoyance. “The dynasty of Moore is at its end. The trunk has given us many good Lords but now is just about withered. We had three siblings left, but an incident deprived us of the two males.”

“An incident?”

“An assault, and unlucky circumstances. Both brothers were killed. A disgrace.”

“What about the third?”

Joseph cut the air with an annoyed gesture. “Eliza left,” he said bitterly. “Nobody would have faulted her for falling short of the legacy of her forefathers, she lacked the capabilities for it; but she should have at least have married in one of the big families. The city would have benefited greatly from a Lord-Mayor bearing the name of the Black General. Instead, she took some guards and ran like a bandit in the night. She was going to make sure that our vassals’ loyalty remained strong, she has left said. Useless saying it but not many expect to see her return.”

“It’s a problem for the city?”

“Government speaking? No. The Hall can theoretically rule on its own. Stability speaking? It’s a disaster. The city is a chicken waiting to be snatched by wolves. You saw it.”

“And it stands to us to avoid that it happens.” Cartus closed his eyes, humming deeply. “I must thank you, my lord. You gave me much.”

“Oh, i fear that i gave you nothing.” Joseph smiled ruefully. “You could have heard this by anyone in the city, really.”

“Even so, i thank you.” Cartus stood up. “Now i must take my leave. I have much to think about.”

Joseph did the same. He hesitated, not daring to ask.

“You don’t have to worry,” Cartus said, noticing it. “I will stand with you in this affair. We will make sure that this upstart bandit takes what he deserves.” He put a hand over the lawyer’s shoulder. “Rest assured, my friend. Of this you have Lucius Cartus’ word.”

In that moment, Joseph could almost believe it. Short on words, he just nodded.

“I’ll contact you when the time is right.”

Joseph accompanied the Guildmaster at the door.

“Until then?”

“Until then. Farewell.”

And like that, he was gone.

Joseph was surprised by the difference. The room suddenly felt much more empty.

He sat back with a deep sigh, cradling his head with both hands. What would the future bring? He couldn’t see it. He could only hope for the best.