“The Illyrian Nobility figured out the path to maintaining power. Find talented individuals and offer them resources in return for loyalty. For the nobility, they are always hunting for new talent, to serve them or to marry into their bloodlines.”

“History of Illyria” Titus Invidious 1137 IC.

Chapter 4

Wilhelm climbed the grand stairway from the foyer, making his way towards the study in the rear of the manor. Overlooking the garden, with large windows letting in the light of Secundus, the study was his father’s favored location when he was staying at the capital manor house. The walls of the large room were lined with bookshelves, stretching high above his head and requiring a ladder to reach the upper tiers of books. The study was arrayed with a fireplace on the left side of the entrance, and a large desk situated by the far windows, facing towards the door.

Entering the room, Wil’s father was seated behind the desk near the windows. Although the Earl was middle age, he showed no signs of aging. Long, dark hair without any hint of grey, and green eyes, Tiberius Brookmoor was a handsome man and shared a lot of his features with Wil. Both had the prominent cheekbones and similar nose, while Wil had inherited his mother’s blue eyes.

Standing behind the desk, near the window, was one of his father’s servants. A tanned man with short grey hair and beard, he was wearing a black coat with the Brookmoor coat of arms on the front.

“Father” Wil greeted him simply.

The Earl looked up from the documents he was reviewing on the desk. Sizing Wil up from his clean boots to the bags under his eyes, the Earl shook his head.

“You’re looking poorly” Tiberius said gruffly.

“Apologies, Father. I didn’t sleep well.” Wil said, taking a seat in front of the desk.

“I’ve heard. You will not repeat yesterday’s incident, you’re an Earl’s son, not some common mercenary who just received his pay”

“Yes, Father”

“I didn’t come to the capital to critique your behavior Wilhelm, I’m here to assess your progress.”

“My studies are progressing, I’ve made significantly progress in understanding 3rd tier spells, and my martial tutor recently praised my comprehension of several sword techniques.” Wil maintained his calm, patiently explaining his progress.

“But your abilities are still at the first rank! Your brother, when he was your age, was already at the third Rank. And he barely had any experience in combat! And your sister, she’s only a child and has already risen above you. When she joins the academy next year, she’ll soar, while you’re here wallowing in the mud!” Tiberius scolded.

“I’m sorry Father, but while my rank hasn’t risen, my comprehension of techniques…”

“Comprehension! “Tiberius interrupted. “What use is it to understand a technique or spell without the power to back it up! You may have knowledge of higher tier spells, but as a first rank, you lack the Mana to cast them! It’s obvious that you need an alternative way to ‘motivate’ you to succeed.” The Earl paused, collecting his thoughts as he stared silently at Wil for a moment.

The silenced stretched until he finally spoke.

“Leave us, I’ll begin to make preparations for you.” Tiberius commanded, ending the conversation and turning his attention back to the documents in front of him.

Wil stood to leave, struggling to maintain his calm, he clenched his fists and hid them in his pockets. Making his way out of the room, he closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall of the hallway. Taking deep, steady breaths, he thought about the consequences of his father’s arrival.

Wil knew that if someone’s rank were stagnant, if they showed no sign of progress, the best way to overcome it would be going out into the world and gaining experience. Exploring new locations, overcoming obstacles, pushing your boundaries were all ways to break through a bottleneck to the next rank.

The quickest and most sure-fire way was to survive life or death battles, killing monsters, beasts and even other humans. It was also the riskiest, the world was both dangerous and cruel. Wil knew what his father would do, he would throw him to the wolves, and he wouldn’t raise a hand to help him.

Straightening, Wil made his way back to his room, and the bottle of wine that he had hidden there. Wil had learned that the only cure to feelings a visit from his father brought, was to drown them in alcohol.

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“What are your impressions of the boy, Greaves?” The Earl asked his servant without looking up from his papers.

“He’s got fear in him, milord. He thinks its buried deep but it’s plain as day” the servant, Greaves, replied.

“Then it’s good to get him out, toughen him up a bit. If his fear is holding him back, keeping him from improving, than facing it will allow him to improve.”

“Or it will kill him, milord. I’ve seen his type before, when I was in the legion. Try to forge him into steel, he’ll break as soon as he touches the fire.”

“He’s useless to the house as he is, so I don’t lose anything in this gamble. Either he dies, or he comes through this stronger and more capable.” Tiberius said as he finally looked up from his papers, gazing to the side, where a large painting of the house emblem hung.

“You could marry him off, milord. I’m sure there are a few houses that would want to deepen their ties with you. “Greaves offered.

“Marrying down, that’s the only prospects that the boy has. No…Better to toss the dice and see how they land. His brother and sister are the ones who are going to carry this House forward, I can afford to lose Wilhelm.”

‘You’re a cold one, milord’ Greaves thought. Looking back out the window, he asked “Do I make the arrangements? Have the boy join one of the groups guarding against the undead to the west? I can have him posted with the Legion guarding the walls at Aachen. He would get experience and be adequately protected. It’s a perfect spot for someone of his rank.”

“No” Tiberius mused. “The Goblins will be leaving their nests in the east come Nightfall. Have the boy join the front lines as an auxiliary. If we are to forge him, then only an intense fire is needed. The Legion won’t enter Aachen, the boy wouldn’t see any fighting there.”

“Yes Milord, I’ll have him sent East, I’ve heard there has been trouble in Whitewater recently.” Greaves offered, turning away from the window and making his way to the door.

“Perfect” Tiberius looked back down at his paperwork.

As his hand reached for the doorknob, Greaves heard the Earl speak behind him.

“Greaves, I want you to make it clear. The boy comes back as perfectly tempered steel, or not at all. The Brookmoor’s do not recognize failures.” The Earl ordered, his word final.

“Clear as good glass, Milord” Greaves replied, leaving the room.

Greaves made his way out of the manor, into the deepening blue light as Secundus was making its way down towards the western horizon. Glancing back at the manor, Greaves looked towards the window of the youngest son of the Earl of Brookmoor.

From the angle, although he couldn’t see into the room, he could easily imagine what the young man was doing at this moment. Probably drinking heavily and cursing his father.

Feeling pity for the boy, Greaves turned away and walked down the manor path, heading towards a Brookmoor House carriage. He would need to travel east, to meet with the Legion Commander in charge of recruiting at East Haven. He could send a letter, but arrangements like this need to be clear, no mistakes. Things written in a letter could be misinterpreted, a frank conversation face to face would prevent that.

Not looking forward to the two-day ride, Greaves entered the carriage and told the driver to head to the legion outpost outside the city. He would link up with one of the Legion caravans heading to resupply the eastern front for the upcoming Nightfall. They would be traveling by Gate to the city of East Haven and journey from there.

Although he hated the thought of what his actions would do to the boy, Greaves was loyal to the Earl and would do his duty. Even if it kept him up at night, plagued by ill thoughts and bad dreams.