AN: I originally published this as Wild Arms 2 A Bittersweet Affair under the pen name, Arthy Pink. Unfortunately I abandoned that account for personal reasons. My plan is to write the story on how Odessa formed itself, how the members of Odessa came to be. Meaning, I'll be touching and creating the backstories for Antenora, Caina, Judecca, Ptolomea and Vinsfeld, ultimately weaving them in one narrative. Antenora's story is the first. Hope you enjoy!

- Chryselis

Antenora watched the sprawling three-storey manor that had once been her home for the last nineteen years. With simple exteriors that hid the elegant tastes of the Victorias, it sat on a vast ten-acre field, surrounded by hundreds of oak trees and orchards providing supplemental income for their family.

It had been built hundreds of years ago, a wedding gift of the first Victoria Noble to his beloved wife. The Victorias belonged to a lower branch of the Nobility, but that didn't stop them from dreaming of a better life. They had worked hard, treated their serfs kindly, and invested their money with a dream to provide well for their descendants, and their dreams had born fruit.

Until now.

If their ancestor had the foresight to predict the greed which consumed the Slayheim Monarchy, perhaps he would have chosen to settle in another land. Meria Boule, for instance. And if he had the foresight that that same greed would infect his descendants, destroying everything he worked hard for, he would have definitely settled in Meria Boule.

But he didn't have that gift, unfortunately.

The Victorias were moderates but had become a little ambitious, even if they loathed to admit it.

That ambition did little to save their paltry lives, nor house and dreams their ancestor had worked for.

Her attention was drawn to the large crowd outside her home. The peasants were shouting to each other, waving their torches, cheering as they looted the rich home of the Victorias. She wouldn't be surprised if their own servants had joined the nasty zealots burning the house.

Ingrates, she thought bitterly.

Even if they had treated their servants with kindness, there were serfs who deserved a good beating. Antenora was not the angel she seemed to appear, showing little tolerance for servants who abused their kindness. She had her own fair of dealing with servants who went beyond their station.

But with the revolution in place, that line was erased.

The servants had revolted against their former masters. The power of the Nobility was no more- except for the Slayheim King who was hiding his ass somewhere, cowardly king that he was. Her father would have regretted supporting a spineless king, and he would go to his grave with that knowledge in mind. The knowledge that he had brought destruction upon his family would be his punishment, and it was too late to do anything about it.

Suddenly, Antenora felt the wariness overcome her body. It had been days since she had a bath and a decent meal. Her clothes had begun to irritate and chafe her skin, and her hair had been uncombed for almost a month now, matted and dirty.

Escape had been an opportunity they could have afforded, but her father, in his greed, wanted to liquidate the entire holdings before migrating to Meria Boule, where his wife's distant relatives lived. The Valerias of Meria Boule, if she could correctly remember. Antenora's mother wanted to leave immediately, whether their holdings were liquidated or not.

He didn't listen to his wife, and now they had paid the price.

Perhaps if her father had kept his neutral stance, Antenora thought, then the family would have been spared from the horror and tragedy that befell other nobles. Once her father had sided with the Slayheim King, supporting his ideals about using nuclear weapons against the rebel groups, everything had fallen apart. She had never known what pushed her father to make such a foolish decision. Perhaps it was for the greed, or the power, or the dissatisfaction of being a low-ranking branch of the nobility. The king had promised power, and his father found the temptation too hard to resist.

Barely a week after expressing his support, the Slayheim Liberation Army struck full force, identifying and eliminating the king's allies.

If the Victorias had only chosen to remain silent, they would have been spared.

No, even if they had been moderates, the Liberation Army would have come for their family, dragging them from their estates.

The memory was still fresh from her mind.

On that fateful morning, Antenora was busy supervising the servants in the field, when the sounds of galloping horses echoed throughout the field. Their visitors were not friends, a large group of almost fifty to a hundred men. Strapped across their bodies were high-powered firearms.

Antenora had done her best not to be intimidated and faced them, noticing their leader with the silver hair.

He was a large man, striking, with his long silver hair and grey eyes. He was largely built, and his tanned skin was proof he was a man used to exposure under the sun. His face was very familiar, as if she had seen the man before, and Antenora tried her best to unearth her memories for this man's identity.

"Is this the Manor of the Victorias?" he asked.

"Yes." She replied.

"What brings you to our Manor?"

"I am looking for the Baron Victoria. The silver-haired man answered. "Are you the lord's wife?"

"I am his daughter."

There was a sudden change in the man's face. So subtle, but she was sure she had seen it.

"We want to talk to him."

"My father has business in Archeim, and I do not recall him telling me he was expecting guests."

"Spoken like a true lady." He smirked.

"Please leave at once," she told him. "We are in the middle of the harvest, and your presence is disrupting our schedule."

"She's brave, this red-haired woman." Said his companion, and Antenora looked at him. He was a giant man, his notable feature was the eye patch that covered his left eye. The thick black hair sprinkled with silver hair at his temples. "It's a pity to see something beautiful be crushed, Vinsfeld."

Vinsfeld, she blinked, trying to extract the familiar name from her memories. As a young girl, she had a fondness for eavesdropping, eager to listen to the juiciest bits of gossip. One gossip had captured her interest, the disgraced son-in-law of the Oxfords. The Oxford belonged to a generation of merchants originating from Guild Galad. Several years ago, the family had been gruesomely murdered. The prime suspect had been the son-in-law of the Oxford Family Head, and the man had been sentenced to imprisonment. News ran, however, that the man had escaped from prison.

"You are a fugitive." She said, even surprised with the calmness of her tone. The situation was still registering in her mind, and the danger she was facing was imminent.

A frown soured his handsome face. "I'm surprised you're not even panicking, lady. To address us with you degree of calmness astounds me."

"I'm trying my very best not to panic, sir." She admitted. "and you're putting us in a very unpleasant situation. You're intruding upon our time of the harvest—"

"Ladies are not usually the ones supervising the harvests, unless—"

"Are you implying we have fallen upon hard times?"

"But your parents would hardly tell you the truth, wouldn't they?"

Her eyes narrowed. "If that is your assumption, you are mistaken, sir. I am not like the other ladies as I happen to enjoy being involved with the harvests."

"Then you are a rarity." He said, appraising her for the first time.

The one-eyed man beside him spoke. "It looks like the Baron isn't here, Vins. What are your plans now?"

"Our plans remains unchanged." Vinsfeld replied, his gaze still on Antenora. "Find and hunt the king's allies."

Antenora eyes widened. "My father… allied with the king?"

Vinsfeld raised his brow. "Why do you sound surprised?"

If it was true, then her father was making the most stupid mistake of his life, endangering the entire Victorias in the Slayheim region.

"Sir, your presence is distressing the serfs. Please leave."

Vinsfeld smirked. "and if we don't?"

He had to remind her how underpowered she was, that damn bastard. She wanted to wipe the smug expression from his face, slap it even. But she was overpowered, and there were only serfs.

"Will you slaughter us, the same you killed the Oxford family?"

Vinsfeld was no longer smiling. With a wave of his man, he commanded his men. "Take the men, women and children. The lands of Baron Victoria are now under the control of the Slayheim Liberation Army."