In the northern reaches of the Kingdom of Veridia, the quiet town of Eldoria was a stark contrast to the bustling capital. As the first snowfall of the Winter Soil Month blanketed the land, a sudden clamor broke the peaceful silence. A column of silver-armored knights, their family crests boldly emblazoned on their banners, rode into town.
Old Lyra, the town's herbalist, stood wide-eyed, a cold dread washing over her as she stared at the banner's emblem: a fierce falcon clutching a serpent in its talons, with the serpent wrapped around a crescent moon.
Her neighbor, Finn, the town's only tanner, saw the shock on her face. As he chewed on a stalk of hay, he asked, "Hey, old friend, what's with that look? Do you know who these knights are?"
Lyra took a shaky breath and whispered, "If I'm not mistaken, that emblem is the crest of the Alaric family."
"The Alaric family?" Finn froze, his face going pale.
"Are you sure?"
Before Lyra could answer, a look of realization and terror dawned on Finn's face. He scrambled into his small, cramped tannery, slamming the door shut and bolting it from within.
Lyra peered through the grimy window, watching Finn's panicked retreat. She shook her head. They were usually a mischievous pair, but today, with the Alaric family's unexpected arrival and their powerful reputation, Finn's reaction was completely understandable.
Lyra recalled the whispers she'd heard in the city's Dragon's Breath Inn.
The Alaric family, known as the Sword of the King, had produced at least six grand marshals over the centuries, earning countless honors in defense of the kingdom. In every conflict, they were never content to command from the rear; every member of the family was a frontline warrior, fearless and cunning. Their dedication and skill had made them the true military power of Veridia.
Recently, the Kingdom of Veridia and the neighboring Vargan Empire were in a tense stalemate, and the border was not far from Eldoria. The arrival of the Alaric family's knights could only mean one of two things: conscription or a defensive mobilization, or perhaps both.
For Finn the tanner, either purpose was a death sentence. The kingdom's conscription law was clear: during wartime, every household in a conscription zone must provide one young adult for service, or pay a hundred silver pieces for an exemption. Finn was the only man in his family and was of conscription age. If he were taken, his wife and child would surely suffer. As for paying the silver? A single silver piece could feed his family for half a year, and only the affluent Lord Varen had that kind of wealth saved up in all of Eldoria.
After her initial surprise, Lyra quickly calmed herself. As a childless old woman well past the age of conscription, she had nothing to fear. She even felt a sense of curiosity and began observing the knights' movements.
Hmm, they didn't go to see Eldoria's mayor. So it's not a conscription after all?
Lyra watched as the column of knights, their hooves clattering on the cobblestones, headed to another destination; the Lord Varen's manor, which remained a vibrant green even in the depths of the Winter Soil Month!
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Varen Manor.
Two kitchen maids, their heads covered with bright yellow scarves, were working while whispering amongst themselves.
The topic of their gossip was Lord Varen's two sons.
"It's been two years since the master and lady passed. According to the laws of the land, after the Winter Soil Month, when the Spring's Awakening begins, the eldest son will officially inherit the title," said the young maid with a round face, a hint of worry in her voice. "I wonder if the second son's life will change after the inheritance."
"Ollie, it's best for us servants to keep quiet about our masters' affairs. But you shouldn't worry. The tea garden is so far from the main house that you may not know just how close the two brothers are," the older maid with a pockmarked face said with a smile. "You won't see any of that family squabbling you read about in storybooks here."
Just then, the sound of galloping hooves echoed from the path outside the tea garden.
Soon, a knight in gleaming bronze armor appeared before them.
The horse whinnied and stamped as the knight stopped, removing his helmet.
He was a young man with dark, flowing hair and a powerful build. The morning light illuminated his face, making his already handsome features appear even more striking.
The young man's light brown eyes swept over the two maids. He bypassed Ollie, his gaze settling on the older maid.
"Good morning, Head Maid Corina."
Corina put down her basket and curtsied respectfully. "Good morning, Young Master Elias."
Elias glanced at the freshly picked tea leaves in Corina's basket, a flicker of exasperation in his eyes. "Has my brother gone to see that old man again?"
Corina lowered her head and replied, "Young Master Dorian is with Mister Calder."
Elias scowled, muttering to himself, "Studying? That old man, I don't know what's wrong with him, spouting nonsense every day. My brother goes to him for lessons and even brings him tea daily. The man's a hermit. I don't know what it is that makes my brother so dedicated to him."
Irritably, Elias tugged on the reins. "Alright, I understand. You two get back to work. I'm going to find him now."
With that, Elias spurred his horse, galloping away.
A moment later, Elias arrived at the southeastern edge of the manor. On a small rise near the woods stood an exquisite stilted wooden house. Its architecture was unlike anything he had ever seen: upturned eaves, two sections standing side-by-side, with one section on solid ground and the other three sides suspended in the air, held aloft by pillars.
The building style was completely alien to the Kingdom of Veridia. Elias had traveled extensively, but he had never encountered anything like it.
"What a peculiar building! Three sides hanging in the air and it still stands strong," Elias mused, though he never showed his admiration for Mister Calder's architectural skill. He believed that this style must be common in Mister Calder's homeland, a place whose location remained a mystery despite the old man living at the manor for nearly twenty years.
Pushing open the wooden gate, he saw a small garden of vegetables and herbs. A nearby trellis was covered in withered vines. In the Summer's Bounty, these vines would produce sweet 'hanging berries' that Mister Calder called "grapes." But that season had passed.
As he opened the bamboo door of the stilted house, he saw a young man with delicate features, engrossed in a parchment scroll, dipping a quill pen into ink and writing furiously.
Elias walked closer, but his bronze boot armor still made a resounding thud on the wooden floor.
"Oh, you're here?" The young man put a period on the parchment and looked up, his voice clear and bright, full of warmth.
"My dear brother, Dorian. By your tone, did you expect me?" Elias said with a smile.
Dorian shrugged, a smirk on his lips. "No, I didn't. I just find it makes for a better conversation."
"Did that old man teach you that?"
Dorian shook his head. "Does this need teaching? Didn't Father speak like that all the time?"
"What if someone misunderstood that you knew their intentions, and they stood there in silence? How would you start the conversation?" Elias raised an eyebrow.
"I'd simply stay silent as well, and wait for them to speak first."
"What if they never do?"
Dorian pouted. "Then it would be awkward. If it were me, I'd just leave to avoid the tension. If the other person called out to me, then there would naturally be a follow-up."
Elias smiled, nodding but not commenting.
He looked around the room instead.
"Where's that old man Calder?"
As soon as Elias mentioned Calder, Dorian's brows furrowed slightly, and his eyes showed a hint of concern. "You know, my mentor's health is getting worse. Every part of his body is gradually wasting away. Just the other day, his legs became completely immobile. He just applied some medicine and is resting upstairs now."