"Right, is everyone finally done embarrassing themselves?" Annemiek asked calmly after the storm of laughter had mostly settled down. The room immediately quieted. Respect for Karl as patriarch was one thing, but fear of Annemiek as matriarch was an entirely different matter altogether. Even Bill straightened up slightly after seeing her smile. "Good," she continued while folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Then I would like to offer an actual suggestion instead of whatever catastrophe you people were creating earlier." Several family members coughed awkwardly while pretending they had not just suggested names that sounded stolen from cheap fantasy novels.
"My proposal," Annemiek said with complete confidence, "is that we call the guild-clan the Crimson Sun."
The room fell silent for a moment as everyone rolled the name around in their heads. Unlike the previous suggestions, nobody burst out laughing. That alone already placed it leagues above the others. Arin noticed several of the older members exchange small glances while Karl leaned back into his chair with an intrigued expression. He clearly recognized there was more meaning hidden behind the name than just sounding impressive.
"As for the meaning behind it," Annemiek continued, "let us first be realistic. Most people will never question where the name came from. I dare any of you to name a family, company, or organization whose origins you actually know." Almost instantly Bertho enthusiastically raised his hand with the eagerness of an overexcited student. Annemiek immediately pointed at him without even looking. "Not you, Bertho." The young man visibly deflated on the spot while several others burst into laughter at his wounded expression. He looked like a kicked puppy denied the opportunity to show off obscure historical knowledge.
"That may be true, wife," Karl interrupted while rubbing his beard thoughtfully, "but the meaning still matters to us and the people working under us." His voice carried far more seriousness now than earlier during the name disaster. "This time we are choosing the name ourselves instead of having one forced upon us centuries later. That difference matters." Annemiek smiled faintly at his words, clearly pleased he already understood where she was going with the explanation.
"You are correct," she replied softly. "Which is why the name has meaning." Her gaze slowly swept across the room before continuing. "The 'Sun' part comes from our surname, Sonnenberg. Regardless of how it originated, we have carried that name for over three hundred years now. There is too much history, too much blood, and too much weight attached to it to simply discard it." Her expression darkened slightly before a faintly dangerous smile appeared on her lips. "And the few people who know the true origin of the name either have no interest in spreading it… or are too afraid we would discover they had."
A ripple of nervous amusement spread through the room at that statement. Nobody doubted she meant it completely seriously. "So," Annemiek continued calmly, "the Sun remains as a nod to our family and the legacy tied to it. Anyone who needs to understand the reference will understand it immediately." Her expression softened afterward, becoming strangely nostalgic. "As for Crimson…" She paused for a moment while staring quietly into the fire. "…that is for our home."
The mood in the room shifted almost instantly. Several elderly members lowered their gazes while faint smiles appeared on their faces. Even Karl's expression relaxed slightly. Arin noticed the subtle change immediately. Unlike the earlier tension and laughter, this silence felt warm rather than uncomfortable, as though everyone present had suddenly drifted into old memories they rarely spoke aloud about.
Annemiek herself looked far away for a brief moment. Though she had married into the family after the war with Russia, she had entered the forest at only seventeen years old. Most of her life had been spent among the Sonnebergs. The towering trees, the hidden trails, the old wooden lodges buried deep beneath the canopy—those memories had long since become more real to her than the world she was born into. For the older generation gathered in the room, the word Crimson clearly carried far more meaning than just a color.
Karl eventually coughed awkwardly, likely trying to pull everyone back to reality before the atmosphere became too sentimental. Unfortunately for him, the moment he interrupted her thoughts, Annemiek slowly turned her head toward him with a glare powerful enough to make even the old ranger visibly shrink into his chair. The terrifying part was not the glare itself. It was how quickly Karl surrendered afterward. Arin and several others immediately looked away to avoid laughing.
"Right," Annemiek continued as though nothing had happened. "The Crimson part comes from the oldest known name of our forest."
That instantly caught the younger generation's attention again.
"Wait," Arin interrupted cautiously while raising a hand. "If that was the original name, then why is it called the Clanton Forest now?" His expression became more uncertain afterward. "And what about the families bordering our territory? We were always told they kept us contained somehow." The moment those questions left his mouth, Karl suddenly smiled in a way that immediately activated every survival instinct Arin possessed.
"Do not worry too much about them," Karl said with unsettling calmness. "Those families were never truly independent powers. They were watchdogs. Placed there to monitor us and make sure we stayed where people wanted us." His smile widened slightly, somehow becoming even less comforting. "But with the world changing the way it is now… I imagine that arrangement will not survive much longer." Arin quietly decided not to ask follow-up questions after hearing that tone.
"You know," Arin muttered after a moment, "I think I've learned more family history in this room than during the rest of my life combined." There was genuine curiosity in his voice now. The more fragments he heard, the more obvious it became that enormous parts of the family's history had been deliberately hidden from the younger generation. Considering the expressions of the adults whenever the topic surfaced, that realization was not comforting.
Karl merely waved the concern away dismissively. "Under normal circumstances, you would not be hearing any of this yet," he admitted. "Most of our history is bloody enough to give historians nightmares. We usually wait until family members are at least twenty-one before allowing unrestricted access to the records." A dangerous glint suddenly appeared in his eyes afterward, one that immediately made both Arin and Bertho uncomfortable for reasons they could not explain.
"Since you already started this topic," Annemiek interrupted sweetly, "perhaps I should explain the rest properly."
The grandmotherly warmth in her voice somehow made the room even more nervous.
Arin instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Karl looked equally alarmed.
Every instinct both men possessed screamed at them to remain silent and not interrupt her again.
"The forest was renamed for two reasons," Annemiek explained calmly. "First, removing the original name weakened our claim over the territory while strengthening the authority of those ruling above us." She leaned back slightly before continuing. "Second, the old name itself carried meaning people wanted forgotten." The room became completely silent again as she spoke. Even the younger children stopped fidgeting.
"A long time ago," she continued softly, "the forests of Europe were far larger than they are today. Most regions had many local names depending on the villages nearby. But our section of forest became infamous for a very specific reason." Her eyes narrowed faintly. "When nobles first attempted to clear the land for farms and settlements, they discovered that someone had already claimed roughly twenty kilometers of forest for themselves." Several people exchanged glances immediately. Claiming land from nobles during that era usually ended very badly.
"The local lord naturally saw this as rebellion," Annemiek said. "So he marched into the forest with nearly a thousand armed men to crush whoever dared challenge his authority." She paused for a brief moment before calmly finishing the story. "None of them came back out alive." The room went completely still.
"To send a message afterward," she continued without changing tone, "our ancestors painted the entrance of the forest red with their blood." Several younger members visibly paled at the mental image. "The nearby villages began calling it the Crimson Forest after that, and the name remained for generations as a warning. It reminded outsiders not to trespass and reminded rulers not to interfere." Her voice remained calm throughout the explanation, which somehow made it worse.
"Eventually," Annemiek said with a small shrug, "our ancestors retreated deeper into the forest after reaching certain agreements with the powers surrounding them. Over time the fear faded, the warning lost meaning, and people became eager to erase the old name entirely." She glanced around the room afterward. "But history does not disappear simply because people stop speaking about it."
Silence lingered for several long seconds after she finished speaking.
Then Karl slowly cleared his throat.
"So," he asked carefully, "does anyone object to the name Crimson Sun?"
This time nobody laughed. Nobody argued. Nobody suggested anything ridiculous. One after another, the family members quietly shook their heads in agreement.
Karl finally nodded before opening the system interface again. The glowing blue screen reflected faintly in his tired eyes as he typed the name into the formation window. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then the entire room trembled softly as a new golden screen unfolded before them, far larger and grander than the previous menus.
The Crimson Sun faction had been accepted.