Urbstrina, the capital city of the Kingdom of Ignatius, was the largest city in Mourner's Isle, which is unsurprising when considering the Kingdom controlled the entirety of the island. It also boasted the highest population of all of the cities. It was truly an extraordinary city in comparison to the others.

Particularly extraordinary was the number of nobles that own beautiful and expansive territories in the vicinity of the city. As they are situated in the capital, these nobles are much better off than the nobles of more distant cities. One such family was the Clark family. They were one of the first families to be exiled from the Mainland to Mourner's Isle years ago, and had amassed a large amount of wealth. In recent years, however, they have been suffering due to issues with their territory. As such, they fell in status to mere lower nobles.

Seated behind a desk in his family's mansion was Brannon Clark, the head of the Clark family. He looked across the desk, his gaze fixated on one of the two young men before him with a glowing warmth in his eyes.

“Ayers, Callum,” He said, his voice low and quiet. “I am growing old. I can feel it. I feel it even now, and with every passing season it becomes more pronounced.” He shut his eyes, a calm serenity spreading across his aged face.

“Father, you…” One of the two boys started, but Brannon raised his hand, shaking his head with a bitter smile.

“Ayers, my son, I know that you wish to comfort me, and I appreciate your concern, however I know what must be done. In the coming year, I will be stepping down from the head of the family.” Brannon interlaced his fingers, resting his hands on the desk. His melancholy seemed to vanish, and a confident, stern look took its place.

“You have proven yourself to be a reliable heir, Ayers. I am grateful to the Heavens to have a son such as you to lead the family in my stead. I have faith that you will lead our family out of this recess.”

Ayers had a handsome smile on his face which radiated a sun-like confidence, while Callum beside him remained expressionless, like a lake devoid of ripples.

“Callum,” Brannon said, the warmth in his eyes vanishing as his gaze slowly drifted towards his other son. “You will become a man soon. You have choices to make, and you must make them with haste.”

“Yes, Father.” Callum’s voice was dull and cold, but his father did not seem to notice, or perhaps he simply did not care.

“Your uncle has already made clear that if you desire to become a knight, he will assist you. Of course, you’ll have to start as a guard, as he did. You are talented with both tactics and the sword. This path is a good one for you.” Brannon paused, as a flicker of doubt appeared in his eyes. “No matter the path you take, you are a man of the Clark family. Do not shame this name, Callum, and do not shame your brother.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Shortly after Callum comes of age, I shall step down, and the two of you will set foot upon your respective paths. Now, both of you, leave me and return to your obligations. I have much to do until that day.” Brannon said, waving them off.

The brothers left the small room, closing the door behind them as they entered the wide hall of their family home. Ayer glanced over his shoulder at Callum, his younger brother. A harsh light appeared within his eyes, and he spoke in a remorseless, hushed tone.

“Father is right, Callum. I need not tell you what will happen if you make a fool of the Clark name while I lead the family.”

After speaking, Ayers’ eyes returned to their refined and dignified demeanor, and he advanced down the hallway, leaving Callum alone in the empty hall.

So, this is indeed the path ordained for me. Callum stood motionless for a moment, allowing his thoughts to roam. Perhaps it’s time to speak with Uncle.

Leaving the mansion grounds through the front gate, Callum headed south towards his uncle’s residence. His face remained stern and uninviting as he walked through the lower Noble’s District of the city. He glanced towards the city exit in the distance. It was there, in the outside world, that he felt most liberated, as opposed to the uninviting and cold environment of the mansion.

Perhaps I’ll never feel that liberation again, he thought. He threw his gaze towards the guards who were positioned at the exit. To be second-born; How cruel of Fate. He returned to his leisurely walk, lost in thought. Heading towards his uncle’s residence, he passed by a few individuals. In this district, the every passerby was a noble or a close relative of a noble, and as such the area's streets were all but desolate in comparison to the other regions of the city.

Suddenly, Callum woke from his daze to find two aristocrats standing before him. “Callum, my dear friend! Just the person I was looking for. Come, come! I want to introduce you to someone.” He clasped the other man briefly around the shoulder with one arm as he beckoned for Callum to join them.

“Desmond, I am glad to see you are well.” Callum replied, his expression softening at the sight of his old friend. “Last we met, you were a newly-wedded man.” He spoke as he approached Desmond and the man.

Desmond laughed heartily. “If you remember that much, then you certainly know I’m not well. Damn, women are a fierce bunch. Do yourself a favor, Callum, and find yourself a docile lady, the more submissive the better I’d say.”

Reining in his laughter, Desmond gestured towards his companion. “Callum, this here is Anwir, my family and his have grown quite close as of late. I felt that you might benefit from knowing him, especially with your circumstances and all.” He leaned closer as he spoke the latter half, talking in a near whisper.

Callum’s eyebrows nearly furrowed, but he quickly forced away the impulse and extended his arm in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Anwir, I am Callum Clark. Please, call me Callum.”

Anwir grasped Callum’s hand, smiling as he spoke. “The pleasure’s all mine, and please, just Anwir is fine.” The two released each other’s hands, and Anwir shot a glance towards Desmond.

Desmond, still bearing his polite smile, spoke lazily. “Shall we find some place more private, perhaps?” He gestured towards a nearby restaurant. “It’ll be my treat, of course.”

Anwir’s smile grew more radiant. “I, for one, am not one to turn down such an offer from a gold pincher such as yourself, Desmond. How say you, Callum?”

“I might as well hear what the both of you have to say,” Callum said in a low voice. “I haven’t much else to do at this point.” He turned and followed Desmond’s lead into the restaurant.

…

Seated at a large table in a private room of a fanciful restaurant were three men, each clad in beautiful and colorful clothing, and all smiling brightly as they conversed with one another. They had been chatting for a short period of time already, most of which was talk of miscellaneous, tedious and nonsensical things. They would laugh occasionally, or scowl playfully as they joked and bantered. This had continued for a considerable amount of time, and each of the men seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves.

Eventually, one of the men’s faces grew serious, even slightly stern. He interlocked his fingers and leaned in towards the other two, gazing at one man in particular. “Callum, I know that you will soon be reaching adulthood, and will inevitably be sent away as all second sons are. I know how you feel about this all too well, as I am a second son myself.”

Awir spoke slowly and deliberately, as though he had rehearsed this speech a hundred times before. He paused for a moment, examining Callum’s upper body briefly before continuing on. “Knowing your family history, your father intends for you to become a lowly guard… Do you not feel that this is a waste of your potential? Of your talent?”

The room grew quiet. Desmond’s eyes drifted slowly to Callum’s face, joining Awir as the pair watched Callum’s expression go through a myriad of changes. Anger, helplessness and unwillingness flashed across his face repeatedly.

“I do feel that it is a waste.” Callum said, sighing with a bitter smile. “However, there aren’t many paths open to a second son. I have been raised to fight and to strategize, but I have never been the intended heir. Those skills that are truly necessary to nobility were never my own. My father has always groomed me with the understanding that one day, I would follow my uncle’s footsteps.

“What’s more is that, should I strive to gain power of my own, my father will be the very first to obstruct me, in fear that I will seek revenge against him and my brother. As such, there is not much for me to do.”

Awir sat calmly as he listened to Callum’s mixture of reasoning and bitterness. As he listened, he nodded slightly. “I once held these very same beliefs. I was prepared to resign myself to my fate, rather than be struck down by my father to prevent me from rocking the boat. However, a member of a very secretive and unknown group approached me with an offer, and after accepting it, many more paths became open to me.

“Today, I want to make the same offer he made to me. This group can shelter you. It can give you the opportunity to become someone, to do something.”

Awir smiled at Callum. “Of course, it won’t be immediate, and you’ll have to do some things you may find… less than tolerable. However, you won’t end up as a mere footsoldier, but as a real aristocrat, one of your own making. You’ll have power. Real power.”

Callum thought for a short while before speaking once more. “What exactly would this work be that I’d be doing? Although I am not a good man, there are lines that I will not cross in order to gain power.”

Awir nodded. “I had the same questions that you must have. All I can say to you is that what we do is for the greater good. There are some acts that are… necessary evils. However, unless it’s absolutely impossible, we only harm those who the Kingdom deem deserving.”

Desmond tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table and gave a light snort. “As if my family and I would get involved in something heinous and evil. Believe me, Callum, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you miss this, you will definitely regret it.”

The room grew quiet once more. Awir and Desmond sat calmly, unaffected by the silence, as though they were the epitome of patience. The only sound was the tapping of Desmond’s fingers upon the wooden table, drumming at a fixed rate.

Callum raised his head with a determined gleam in his eyes. He made eye contact with Awir, and with a firm nod of the head, Callum extended a hand to Awir. “Alright. I have nothing to lose.”