The cold, gray light of dawn filtered through the cracked windows of Graythorn Keep. Leonard Eldridge sat on a worn wooden chair in the main hall, staring at the desolate expanse beyond the warped glass. His thoughts churned like a storm as he took in his new reality.
Graythorn Keep was no palace. It was a crumbling husk of a fortress, its walls covered in moss and ivy, its once-majestic banners torn and faded. Even the air inside felt oppressive, heavy with the scent of damp stone and decay. Yet, this place was now his. His land. His responsibility.
Eldric's voice broke through the silence. "Breakfast is ready, young master."
Leo turned to see his butler carrying a tray with a modest spread of bread and dried meat. Eldric set the tray on the table and gestured for Leo to eat, but his expression betrayed concern. "You didn't sleep."
"I tried," Leo replied, his voice hollow. "But every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was—" He stopped, shaking his head. He didn't need to finish the thought. Eldric already knew.
"Then perhaps it's best to keep busy," Eldric said gently. "A tour of your lands might help you understand the challenges ahead."
Leo stared at the untouched bread for a moment before nodding. "You're right. Let's go."
The village of Graythorn lay at the base of the hill, a pitiful collection of ramshackle homes scattered along a single dirt road. As Leo and Eldric descended from the keep, the chill wind bit at their faces, carrying the scent of dry earth and something faintly metallic. The villagers noticed their approach, and one by one, they emerged from their homes to watch.
Their expressions ranged from curiosity to open hostility. Most wore patched, tattered clothing, their faces hollow with hunger. Children clung to their mothers' skirts, their eyes wide and wary. It was clear these people had seen more hardship than they deserved.
A gruff voice broke the silence. "So, you're the new duke."
Leo turned to see a broad-shouldered man stepping forward. His beard was streaked with gray, and his arms were thick with muscle, though his posture spoke of exhaustion.
"Yes," Leo said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I am Leonard Eldridge."
The man snorted. "Another noble come to play lord over nothing." He crossed his arms.
"Name's Garret. I run the militia. Or what's left of it."
"I'm not here to 'play,'" Leo replied, meeting
Garret's gaze. "I intend to make things better."
Garret's expression didn't change. "That's what the last lord said. And the one before him. None of them stayed long enough to do anything."
Garret reluctantly led Leo and Eldric through the village, explaining its grim state. "We've got fifty, maybe sixty people left," he said as they passed dilapidated homes with missing shingles and broken windows. "Used to be more, but they left when the crops failed."
"Why did they fail?" Leo asked.
Garret stopped and gestured to the barren fields surrounding the village. "Take your pick. Soil's dead, weather's unpredictable, and magic's gone haywire. You can plant all you want, but nothing grows."
Eldric frowned. "Magic anomalies?"
Garret nodded. "Yeah. Strange stuff. Sometimes the air feels… heavy. Other times, you'll hear whispers coming from nowhere. Scares the hell out of the villagers."
Leo exchanged a glance with Eldric. This wasn't just bad luck. Something unnatural was at work here.
As the tour continued, Leo was introduced to some of the villagers. First was a blacksmith named Torran, a tall, weathered man with a missing arm. Despite his injury, he still managed to produce tools and repair what little equipment the militia had.
"Lost the arm fighting off bandits," Torran said gruffly, barely glancing at Leo. "Don't need pity, and I don't need promises you can't keep."
Next was Mira, a widowed healer who tended to the village's sick and injured. She was in her thirties, with tired eyes and hands that moved with practiced efficiency. Her home doubled as an orphanage, filled with children who had lost their parents to famine or disease.
"I don't expect miracles, Your Grace," Mira said as she cleaned a child's wound. "But these people need hope. Something to believe in. Can you give them that?"
Her words struck a nerve, and Leo found himself at a loss for how to respond.
As they left the village, Eldric turned to Leo. "This land is in worse shape than I thought."
"It's a nightmare," Leo admitted. "How am I supposed to fix any of this?"
Eldric placed a reassuring hand on Leo's shoulder. "One step at a time, young master. Start small. Earn their trust."
Leo nodded, though doubt gnawed at him. The challenges seemed insurmountable. The land was barren, the people were broken, and he was a lord in name only.
They returned to the keep as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the desolate landscape. Leo stood at the top of the hill, staring out at the darkening fields. The weight of his new responsibilities pressed down on him like a physical burden.
Later that night, Leo sat alone in the keep's great hall, the flickering firelight casting shadows on the walls. Eldric entered silently, carrying two cups of tea. He placed one in front of Leo before sitting across from him.
"You've had a long day," Eldric said.
Leo nodded, staring into the flames. "I don't know if I can do this," he admitted. "The villagers hate me. The land is cursed. I don't even have mana. What can I possibly do?"
Eldric's expression softened. "Do you remember what your mother used to say?"
Leo frowned, his thoughts drifting back to the gardens. "She always said… 'Greatness isn't born. It's earned.'"
"And she believed you could earn it," Eldric said. "So do I."
Leo looked up, meeting Eldric's gaze. The butler's unwavering faith in him was a small comfort, but it was enough to reignite a spark of determination.
"I'll try," Leo said finally. "But I don't know where to start."
Eldric smiled faintly. "Start by proving them wrong. Show them you're not like the others who abandoned them."
That night, as Leo lay on his cot in the cold, empty keep, he thought about Garret's skepticism, Mira's quiet plea for hope, and the children huddled in the healer's home. They deserved better. And though he didn't have the power of mana, he had one thing the others didn't—a reason to fight.
His family might have forsaken him, but he wouldn't forsake these people.
With that thought, Leonard Eldridge, the Duke of Nothing, closed his eyes and prepared for the long road ahead.