A few days slipped by like sand through fingers, each moment fraught with tension and uncertainty.
The dim cellar was heavy with shadows, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shapes on the stone walls. Olivia stood silently, her heart racing, as she pressed her hand over her mouth and nose to stifle the overpowering stench. Clutching a sword, she remained poised behind Mamual, ready for anything.
On the ground, the knight prisoner lay bound by thick iron chains, his movements restricted to the barest gestures. The only freedom he possessed lay in his hands, which were now working furiously with a feather pen. Mamual, his face drawn and dirty, was intent on crafting three letters that conveyed the grim truth of his defeat and imprisonment to his family.
With Liam's candle illuminating the page and the faint glow from the entrance flooding the cellar, Mamual poured his heart into the letters. Each stroke of the pen was a desperate plea for help, detailing the time, place, and method for delivering the ransom that could free him from this nightmare.
Brandon, holding his nose against the overwhelming odor, picked up the letters, scrutinizing each one with a keen eye. After careful examination, he confirmed that beyond the simple notification of his safety, the letters contained critical information necessary for a ransom exchange. Over the years, the wars between the northern and southern kingdoms had established a well-trodden path for such transactions. Captives of noble birth were often spared execution, as their families would typically pay a hefty ransom, especially if they wished to recover the bodies of fallen warriors.
"Is it all clear?" Leon asked, struggling against the foul air that enveloped them.
"No problem," Brandon replied, translating the letter's contents into the Feru language, his voice steady despite the situation.
Leon nodded, but unease crept into his expression as he turned to the prisoner once more. "Is this everything you know about the Fercon family?"
Mamual's voice was hoarse, each word a struggle as he licked his cracked lips. "What do you expect? I'm a knight from Shannan, not a scholar of the western coast."
He glanced up, weariness etched in his features. "I'm a warrior, not some bookish fool. If I hadn't been dragged to the Northern Heraldry Office with the Baron, I wouldn't even recognize the Falcon family emblem."
Leon's frustration simmered as he tucked away the letter. Mamual may have recognized the white bird emblem, but his knowledge was painfully superficial. The Count Falcon was a powerful noble allied with King Avilt, ruling the prosperous city of Westport, but Mamual knew little more than that. His own Baron, Dawson, had no connections to these western lords, and Mamual, focused on battle and strategy, had no reason to know the intricacies of distant noble families.
With their inquiries exhausted, Leon sighed and secured the letters. Liam moved to restrain Mamual's hands once more, the chains clinking ominously. The group swiftly ascended the wooden ladder, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the cellar.
Emerging into the daylight, the trio leaned against the wall outside the warehouse, gasping for fresh air. They couldn't help but spit repeatedly, the remnants of the cellar's stench clinging stubbornly to them. In that moment, the noble etiquette that Lord Balf often espoused seemed utterly irrelevant.
"I'm sorry for dragging you down there," Leon said, glancing apologetically at Olivia, whose face mirrored his own discomfort.
"It's fine," she replied, though her pale expression betrayed her true feelings. "I've been delivering food and water, so I knew what to expect."
But the reality of the stench was far worse than the faint whiffs she had caught while hoisting supplies down. It took a considerable amount of time for them to shake off the nausea, their minds still lingering on the grim task ahead.
There wasn't any other option. The prisoner in the cellar was the safest choice for now. Even though he was weakened, his martial prowess made him a potential threat if left unchecked. Olivia couldn't simply stand guard over him day and night, doing nothing else.
After they returned home, Leon went upstairs, where he set about sealing the three letters written by the captive. He carefully dripped hot wax on each one, then stamped them with Mamual's seal ring, which had been taken from the prisoner's belongings. The emblem imprinted on the wax bore Mamual's personal coat of arms, an unmistakable mark of authenticity.
The decision to have Mamual write three identical letters had come from Brandon's advice. In this age, long-distance correspondence was fraught with uncertainty. Whether it was robbers, poor weather, or simple misfortune, letters could easily get lost. Writing multiple copies and sending them through different routes was the best way to ensure that at least one would reach its destination. It was a smart layer of insurance.
As Leon worked at the table, sealing the letters, Olivia sat nearby, quietly observing him. Little Lina came over, handing her a wooden cup.
"Thank you," Olivia said with a gentle smile, grateful for the drink.
But the warmth coming from the cup caught her by surprise. Glancing down, she saw the liquid inside was clear, definitely water, not beer, as she had expected. Curious, she raised the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip.
The hot water felt odd to her, not unpleasant, just unfamiliar. It was something she wasn't used to.
Lina, noticing Olivia's expression, leaned in and whispered, "Brother Leon told us to start boiling water before drinking it. It's kind of weird, isn't it?"
Olivia mused over this, guessing, "Maybe he's teaching you how to brew tea in the future?"
She had heard tales from her father about the wealthy nobles who enjoyed tea, a refined drink made from delicate leaves that came from distant lands like Seralil. It was prepared by steeping the leaves in hot water; a luxury for the rich.
Leon overheard their conversation and, with a smile, added his own explanation. "It's not for tea. In Serian, where I'm from, the Holy Sun Church teaches us to boil water before drinking. The priests say that water purified by fire is cleaner, and it helps prevent illness."
He leaned back, stretching his arms, before continuing. "Most common folk can't afford to burn fuel just for boiling water every day. Only the wealthier families do it, but on festival days, even the poorer households make an effort."
It wasn't just an excuse, this was something Leon had experienced himself. The Holy Sun Church's teachings about fire and purification were deeply rooted in their worship of the sun. To them, fire wasn't just warmth, it was a purifier.
"You should give it a try too. I've noticed it really does help with staying healthy. If the cost of coal is too high, you're always welcome to stop by and take some boiled water from my place."
Leon picked up his own cup of hot water and took a long sip, clearly relishing the warmth.
For him, this practice of boiling water wasn't just about tradition, it was a matter of health. Now that he was in a position of some wealth, a lord of sorts, Leon took comfort in continuing this old habit. It was far better to be cautious with one's health than to fall victim to disease or plague, which in these times could be as dangerous as any sword.
"Hmm, it does sound reasonable," Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "I'll give it a try myself." The custom was interesting to her, even if she didn't fully understand it. After all, she had been healthy her entire life without ever worrying about such things.
As she sipped her hot water again, she felt herself warming to the idea, despite the strangeness of the drink at first. There was something about Leon's explanation that made the water taste different; better, even.
She thought about it for a moment. Fire was used to cook food, to make it safe to eat, so maybe it made sense that water, too, could benefit from the same treatment. "Are you heading to the western port of Kantadar in the next few days?" she asked, glancing up from her cup.
Leon, still lost in thought, nodded. "Yes, we need to deliver these letters and finalize the arrangements. There's much to prepare."
Olivia took another sip, this time more accustomed to the warm water, and smiled slightly. Maybe fire really could make everything better; food, water, and perhaps even their future plans.
In the past, it was common for villagers, regardless of age, gender, or social standing, to avoid drinking water whenever beer was an option. Beer was safer, they thought, perhaps because it wasn't "cooked" with fire like boiling water. Drinking water was risky; disease lurked in the streams and wells. But beer, fermented and flavorful, felt like a safer bet.
Leon set his wooden cup down with a sigh. "Brandon's injury is almost healed. If we don't leave for Western Port soon, I'm afraid we'll be inviting more trouble."
The weight of the situation hung heavy between them. Brandon had agreed to accompany them, despite the risk. "I just feel bad," Leon continued, his voice softer now. "Asking him to keep taking these risks with Liam and me. He doesn't owe me anything, and yet he keeps sticking around."
It was true; Brandon's involvement had been voluntary from the start. Leon had his own reasons to fight, a debt to repay. That lady who had shown him kindness was still missing, and it wouldn't sit right to abandon her cause now. But Brandon? He had no such ties.
Olivia, swirling the cup in her hands, smiled thoughtfully. "I think Brandon feels a stronger connection to you than you realize. He doesn't see this as just your fight." She paused, then added with a knowing smile, "Besides, I think he's proud to be by your side. The descendants of the Flarel family don't turn their backs on friends, right?"
Leon chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "Yeah, you're probably right. Brandon would say something just like that—boasting about the Flarel bloodline." His smile lingered, a rare glimpse of contentment. Despite the hardships, Leon had found something precious in this world, true friendship. Something he never had in his previous life.
But reality tugged at him again. "I just hope it's not too dangerous out there."
Olivia's face grew more serious. "It will be, won't it?" she asked, her voice quiet. "We're heading into Kantadar territory. Even if my father says there's still trade happening in the west, no one can be sure what the situation is like."
Leon nodded grimly. The uncertainty of their journey weighed heavily on him. Kantadar's lands weren't just foreign; they were potentially hostile.
A spark of excitement flared in Olivia's eyes, catching Leon off guard. She tapped her wooden cup, her fingers drumming with barely-contained energy. "How about this," she began, leaning forward with a mischievous grin, "Take me with you. You know I'm a skilled fighter; I could really help you out on the road."
Leon looked up, startled by her bold offer. For a moment, he saw the gleam in her eyes, the subtle excitement at the prospect of adventure. There was no denying that Olivia could hold her own in a fight. After all, she had taken on two fully armored knights without breaking a sweat. If she came along, their chances of making it safely through Kantadar might increase significantly.
But then reality struck him. Leon shook his head, the temptation fading as he met her hopeful gaze. "Have you forgotten about Baron Cantadar?" he asked gently. "He had his eye on you once before. What makes you think other nobles won't do the same?"
Olivia's face flushed with embarrassment. She lowered her gaze, knowing full well what he meant. The boys in the village had always been drawn to her beauty, but after she'd beaten a few of them with a wooden staff, they'd quickly learned to keep their distance. The nickname "Golden Lion" wasn't exactly flattering, but it had helped her avoid trouble. Still, she couldn't deny that outside the village, where her reputation meant nothing, she might face unwanted attention again. The thought was unnerving.
Leon continued, his voice kind but firm. "I appreciate the offer, I really do. But if you came with us, I think we'd spend more time fighting off suitors than anything else."
Olivia bit her lip, considering his words. She didn't want to be a burden, but she also didn't want to be left behind. With a sudden burst of inspiration, she raised her arm and used her other hand to pull her sleeve over her face. "What if I disguised myself?" she suggested eagerly. "I could cut my hair, put it under a hat, wear a robe, pretend to be a boy. No one would even recognize me!"
Leon burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. The idea of Olivia, fierce and unmistakably herself, trying to pass as a boy was too much. "Have you been reading too many strange stories?" he teased, wiping a tear from his eye. "It's a clever idea, I'll give you that. But even with a disguise, you'd be hard to miss."
Still chuckling, Leon folded his arms and grew more serious. "Olivia, the truth is, we're different. The three of us; Brandon, Liam, and I; we're alone. No one's waiting for us. We can take risks, face danger head-on, because if we die, no one will mourn us."
He hesitated, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but needing her to understand. "But you, Olivia… your father, the villagers; they care about you. Brian the Blacksmith would never forgive me if something happened to you. You're important to them."
Olivia's expression softened as she absorbed his words. Leon was right. Her life wasn't hers to risk so carelessly. She had a home, people who cared for her. It wasn't the same for Leon and his companions, who had nothing left to lose.
Sighing, Olivia lowered her arm and nodded, though the excitement in her eyes dimmed. "I get it. It's just… I don't want to sit around waiting while you're out there, facing all these dangers."
Leon smiled gently, appreciating her spirit. "You'll have your battles to fight soon enough, Olivia. But this one… this one's ours."
"If you were alone, without any ties, I wouldn't hesitate to let you come with us," Leon began, his voice soft but firm. "But Olivia, you have your father to think about. I know your martial skills are impressive, and you could probably protect the three of us, but we can't promise Uncle Brian that we'd be able to protect you." He paused, locking eyes with her. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
Olivia's shoulders slumped, her face clouded with disappointment. She had been ready for adventure, ready to prove herself beyond the confines of Selva. But Leon's words carried weight. She knew he wasn't trying to dismiss her; it was the reality of the situation. With a heavy sigh, she let go of her impulsive desire to join them on their dangerous journey.
Seeing her crestfallen expression, Leon stepped forward and gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know you want to help us," he said warmly, his tone laced with understanding. "And I know you want to see more of the world beyond Selva. Believe me, you will. This just isn't the right time. But that day will come."
He offered a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "How about this: instead of joining us, why don't you train us in martial arts for the next few days before we set off? I've heard Liam's been eager to spar with you whenever he gets a chance."
At the mention of Liam, Olivia's spirits brightened a little. "Liam's been pushing himself hard lately," she replied, sitting up straighter. "He told me he's been having nightmares and trouble sleeping. So, every night, he practices until he's exhausted, just so he can fall asleep. And I have to say, he's gotten a lot stronger. His skills have improved a lot."
Leon nodded, impressed. "He's more dedicated than I am," he said with a chuckle, then turned his attention to the documents scattered on the desk in front of him.
The papers recorded the state of Selva and the nearby villages of Lonca and Pleton: land usage, population numbers, livestock, craftsmen, and more. Leon had been personally gathering this information for weeks, walking the fields and speaking with the people. The figures weren't exact, but they were enough to give him a clear picture. The three territories were barely scraping by, and after the war, they would have to wait until the next year's harvest to start any real development. For now, they could do little but hold on.
He sighed, setting the papers aside. "We'll manage," he muttered to himself before looking back at Olivia. "Actually, Olivia, we could really use your help."
Olivia's eyes lit up again, the disappointment from earlier vanishing in an instant. "What do you need me to do?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward in her chair, her sword clinking against the armrest.
Leon smiled at her enthusiasm. "Once we leave, I've asked your father to help manage things here in Selva, but if any problems come up in Lonca or Pleton, I'll need you to keep an eye on them too. We'll make sure the village officials in those places know before we set off. But you'll have the authority to step in if anything unexpected happens."
He leaned in, his tone more serious now. "I'm also leaving some money and supplies: coins, weapons, and armor, in a box under your bed. If there's an emergency in the territory, you'll have the right to use them. Not your father, not anyone else. You."
Olivia blinked in surprise. "Me? Why not my father?"
Leon crossed his arms, his face thoughtful. "Because I trust you to handle things fairly. Right now, many men have lost their wives and children, and some women are widowed. If people want to start new families, I need you to make sure it's consensual. No one should be forced into anything, understand? I won't allow any coercion or abuse."
He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the village below. "If there's conflict or trouble, you have the authority to intervene. And if things get really out of hand, you can take down the troublemakers by force if needed. You're our representative, Olivia, and that means you carry our authority while we're gone."
Leon's words carried a gravity that made Olivia sit up straighter. She hadn't expected this. "How long will you be gone?" she asked quietly.
"A month, maybe more. I can't say for sure," Leon replied, turning back to her.
He walked back to the desk, taking out a fresh sheet of paper. As he began to write, he spoke with a calm certainty. "Consider this my official commission to you. I'm putting everything in writing. You'll be the acting authority in Selva, Lonka, and Pleton until we return."
He wrote quickly but carefully, detailing her role and responsibilities. When he finished, he opened a drawer and pulled out a small seal marked with the sword-wing emblem, the same one Knight Balf had given him. Pressing the seal into hot wax, he stamped it firmly onto the document. "All that's left is for Liam and Brandon to sign it tomorrow."
Leon stood tall, turning to face Olivia with a look of solemn respect. "Olivia," he said, his voice steady, "I'm officially appointing you as our agent. You have the authority to use our seal. You must maintain order in the territory until we return."
Olivia blinked in surprise, her mouth slightly open. She hadn't expected such a serious responsibility, but beneath her shock, a sense of pride welled up inside her. Leon trusted her with this; trusted her enough to leave the territory in her hands.
She rose to her feet, looking at Leon with renewed determination. "I won't let you down," she said, her voice filled with conviction.
Leon smiled, knowing he had made the right choice. "I know you won't."