The man didn't even notice as he kept on speaking.

“...is unpredictable. Even the legends would find death if their guard lessened for a moment...or worse.” Thram barely whispered those words, but with how deathly silent the room already was, everyone of them heard it.

Nothing was worse than death except to be left an outcast. Both of their current situations.

“Thram. Stop.” Godwin took another sip of water to clear his throat. “The idea of The Count of Terali. The Iron Fist. Killer of a platoon of knights would let all his male children die is too much to believe. Even then, there are many bastards of my father much older than I am who could take that position. To think anyone even remembers me from the county is clutching at straws.”

“Master I plead with you. Someone must have more money than mind to send twenty-seven assassination attempts, not mentioning the very quality of them. If they could spare such strength towards you, what do you think of those with better chances at inheriting the seat?”

“I’ve had enough!” Mother Melissa yelled. She narrowed her eyes and pulled out her trusty iron ladle and waved it threateningly.

Godwin smiled at her show. Mother looked far too kind for anyone to believe she would use that, but he had seen her hitting Thram in the head with it before. Not that it had any effect on the man made of stone.

“No more of this talk! Godwin has to eat well so he could have enough energy to continue his training. We wouldn’t want the masters to speak ill of him. Do we Thram? Especially after his transcendence.” She narrowed her warm eyes in what seemed to be a threat.

Thram sighed. “Master, please consider my words.” With that, he turned back to his gazing. His eyes flitted from one person to another, trying to find any dangers.

Godwin looked at Mother Melissa. She raised her eyebrow and challenged him to say another word. All he could do was shrug and continue to eat his now cold food.

Only to be interrupted from enjoying heaven again.

“We have urgent visitors.” Thram said, he gripped the pummel of his sword-an ornate thing meant to hang on some noble’s wall than in a knight's hand.

It took a few moments before Godwin heard a loud and persistent banging on his door. The person was hitting it so hard; he marveled at how it had not broken down yet. Thram gave him a knowing look, which he ignored. He had no mind for speculation and unfounded theories.

He got up from his seat, resigning himself to not having the rest of his meal. Mother Melissa should make some more tomorrow if he pleaded his case well enough, hopefully.

“Hurry, child. We will lead the visitors towards your office. Keep to decorum, or many would think you uncultured. Come on and don’t forget to wear the county’s colored coat.” Mother Melissa urged him forward.

Godwin sighed as he lightly jogged to his bedroom. He grabbed the dark green and gold coat. It resembled more of a robe with how long it was. After throwing it on his shoulders, he continued towards the office just down the hall in the opposite direction of the dining hall.

He entered the room. A heavy smell of books and parchment greeted him as he made his way past the bookshelves on the walls and onto his seat just in front of the window. This was the most comfortable chair he could find in this amenities lacking fort.

It barely had any cushion at all.

He took a seat. He heard a group clamber towards the door. Their armor clanked, causing a ruckus. That only made Godwin even more confused. Why would a group of knights suddenly show up at his door? Yes, he was one of the youngest to ever transcend at the young age of nineteen, but that was no reason for such a commotion.

Someone knocked on the door. “Master. Your visitors wait for your grace.” Thram said. He knew the knights meant him no harm if his loyal guard stood with him. He would have already battled to death otherwise.

“They may enter.” Godwin called out with as much strength as he could.

The door slowly opened, only to show five knights with the county’s colors. Each wore a completed set of his father’s oath bound honor guard. They walked in with a hurried pace, then kneeled down without pause. They kept their heads down, waiting for Godwin to speak.

He sat there, shocked internally. But he made sure his face gave off no sign. For all they knew, it could have been a power move.

Knights from his father’s lands? Here? In this shabby house he lived in? Why?

The man who claimed to be his parent had never once sent him a letter, much less any single person even affiliated to the county. What in reason under the Father’s heavens did they have to visit him?

He made sure to let them know how he felt.

“State the reason for your visit, then leave. I have important matters to attend to.”

“Count Terali…” One knight said from under a faceless helm.

But it was enough. Those two words shook Godwin’s entire world. When Thram spoke of it earlier, it was nothing but useless drivel that meant nothing. But now... now was the exact opposite. Blood and magic bound these men to speak the truth and follow none but their master.

For them to say those words, Thram’s speculation became the only thing Godwin could think of.

He looked toward his guard with wide eyes and a pale expression. Underneath the table, his fists clenched onto the robe as they trembled. Thram nodded at him, before kneeling down next to them.

The knight that spoke first began again when Thram’s knee touched the ground. “The Lord Father has passed and with him were his male sons from his wife, the previous Countess of Terali. They all met an untimely death in battle far to the north against the tribal war hordes. None expected so many, much less the beasts they learned to tame. Under the cover of the night sky, they surrounded him and a portion of the county’s army.

Under threat of execution, he commanded his advisor and general of his men to escape and lead the county to glory with the majority them. His three sons followed the general. Kimidal, first son and heir to the County, fell in battle ten days later to a trap laid by the barbarians. Metoral, Second son of the late count, died to a rain of arrows from all sides of the mountains as they passed through a deep valley.

The rest died in various ways, targeted specifically. We are of the belief that an allied force plotted this with the savage tribals. Of them all, only the last son survived, and that was only because of him staying in the county. He died three weeks ago of the illness that had plagued him since birth after learning of his entire family's demise.

Within the past week, our search for an heir continued to falter. Each unrecognized son met an untimely demise before our journey reached them. For long days we rode until our horses died of exhaustion, so we procured more. Soon they fell to the side of the road as well. No matter what we had attempted, we were always late.

Yet, somehow, under God’s blessed grace, you still stand. For that we are beyond thankful.”

They punched their palms, then cried out in a battle cry. Thram almost pulled his sword out at that action after he heard the entire tale.

Together, the five guards spoke with perfect synchronicity. “Command us, Count Terali! We shall obey! To the grave it may lead, but we shall carry your words out as heavenly justice! Command us!”