Chapter 5: Old Friends
By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.
A/N: I'm almost done with the last few chapters of this. I'll be coming out with the other half in a couple of weeks. I'll bring y'all more news then.
"You two...have made a very big mistake..."
Amid the deepest, darkest chambers of Castle Caelin, there lies a prison where all the realm's worst souls dwell. Murderers, rapists, and traitors. They all dwell here alongside the two spies Samuel had uncovered attempting to interfere in Morgantown, his voice echoing through the place he cordially refers to as "The Oubiliette". The namesake comes from the prison location at the bottom of a large hole entrenched deep in limestone, the sole entrance coming from a long winding staircase spiraling towards the bottom.
The Oubliette has no ceiling, just a series of thick walls separating the prisoners from one another. From the top, the place looks like a maze with its winding hallways, but upon deeper inspection, one can realize that the series of compartments jutting out from the main hallway holds inescapable qualities. The walls are far too big to jump over, and the thick doors are too strong to overcome. Under these squalid conditions, this is where past monarchies had put those of which they wished to forget, or to deal a miserable existence.
Samuel's eerie brown and amber eyes peer through the darkness like a torch. Before him in this hole are the Tanian and Santaruzian interlopers, of whom were named Farza and Indigo. They look at him with a faux confidence, their bodies bruised, but otherwise unscathed. They spare glances at the table holding torture equipment in their cell, the light from the candle standing on it providing a disturbing display of it. Their shackles make noise as their tense muscles shiver in the cold air.
Farza is the first to speak. He used his hand to wipe away excess hair from his forehead, its brown color dirtied from the lack of showering. He has the dress of a commoner, the last thing he wore prior to his arrest. He pleads, "We didn't do anything. It was a setup, I swear."
Samuel says nothing as his words echo through the long walls of the cell. He only walks over towards the table and grabs the nearest object. It's a rope whip with nine lashes at its ends, a device infamous for its name, the "Cat o' nine tails".
Holding the handle firmly in his grasp, his eyes return to his prisoners. "...Now...I can't say I have much experience using this thing. Then again, it's rather simple in its usage...so I doubt that matters. Even if it did, I don't think I'd have to work very hard to get information out of you two."
Farza flinches at the implication of torture. Although he is a spy of Tania, they lacked much of the training afforded to their Ostian counterparts. They received nothing in the way of counter interrogation techniques...and he is short in will to resist.
Meanwhile, an anxious bead of sweat drips down the side of Indigo's head. Samuel finds his anxiety to be a bit ironic. He was the man who punched him during the raid. He exuded much confidence then, his heart black like the bruise underneath Samuel's right eye.
Samuel puts the whip down, shifting his hand towards another device. It is a bucket, empty of the water required for its use. At its side is a slanted board raised by several planks. The sight conjures up memories from a time long ago.
Samuel says, "Then again, if nothing else works...I could use this. Tell me, do you know how it feels to drown?" His eyes turn grey, and his lungs become tense. "I do. It has to be one of the worst ways to go. Believe me, it took me many years until I could shake the fear brought upon by a body of water. I nearly developed a phobia of the ocean..."
Samuel pauses. The air surrounding him becomes bleak like that surrounding swamp water. It's murky...and his two prisoners can feel the difficulty in their breaths. Their forms turn heavy, like their clothes had suddenly become waterlogged.
He chuckles, "I did not break under pressure. It wasn't because I had superior wills, or that I had much of a desire to live. Simply put, I had no choice. If I broke, I would endanger the lives of those I loved. I could not rationalize any scenario where that would be okay...so I suffered. I did not cry out for help, nor give my enemies what they desired. I stood tall..."
Samuel sets the bucket down on the table, the metallic structure releasing a bang that echoes through the entire prison. "But...you two have no such stakes. You are only operating on the orders of your royal superiors. It's a bond reinforced by the traditional lay of our world, not by love, or nationalistic fervor. It won't take long for me to break you two...and to get what I want."
He picks up a long dagger, positioning the blade in front of him. The reflection from it reveals his face to his two prisoners. Both gasp. Although they had seen him before, they'd never seen him so...mad. The wrinkles on his skin contort to show the likeness of a man stricken with a sense of brutality...and the determination to act on it.
"...This situation isn't unlike the torture I sustained under the dark sorcerer. The stakes are the same. You two come from nations that are threatening Caelin, and by extension my wife and family. This...will not stand..."
Samuel takes a step forward towards Farza. Panicked, the man leans back against the wall, his chains prohibiting any more movement. Despite his mannerism, he still screams in defiance. "Never! You won't get anything from me! Long live Marquess Tania! Death to her enemies!"
Farza's eyes widen. "Aah...Ack—!" He suddenly feels terrible pain as a blade tears through the right side of his chest. He chokes on air as it entrenches itself deeper into his flesh.
Samuel says, "Tell me...do you know the feeling of having a knife mere inches from the outer veins of your heart? I don't...but you surely do. It's a new experience...if anything else."
Farza pleads, "N-No! Stop! I...I have a family! P-Please!"
Samuel raises his brow, intrigued by that detail. "Oh? A breakthrough? We seem to have much in common."
"P-Please! I'd tell you...but the Marquess will kill my family!" He points his finger towards his co-conspirator. "Indigo! He has no family! He can easily tell you everything with no repercussions!"
Indigo shoots back, "What? That's bullshit! If I told you, my Marchioness would send assassins after me!"
Samuel looks at Indigo and then back at Farza. He sighs as he retracts the knife from his prisoner. This leaves the man gasping for air and clutching his open wound as blood streams from it.
Curious about his actions, Indigo asks, "What's...the meaning of this, Chancellor?"
Samuel smiles mischievously. It contains a mixture of glee and outright villainy. "I...believe we can make a deal here. Something...that will work for both sides..."
Later...
Lyn clears her throat before speaking to her friends. Her emerald eyes appear dull from her lack of sleep, brought upon her concern for her realm's situation. "Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector, Lady Florina, I am glad to see you have come."
In the castle, in the secure confines of the keep, lies the realm's situation room. It's where Lyn has private discussions with people of power, its discrete location serving as a deterrent for eavesdroppers. It's an impressive sight to behold, with a green, Aventurine table etched with a map of Caelin and her neighbors at the center, a large, parchment map of Elibe hanging on the South wall, a bookshelf containing information of history, geography, and magic on the North wall, a magnificent chandelier providing clear light from the ceiling, and comfortable lounging chairs spread out across the room.
Before the after-mentioned Aventurine table are the three nobles (and wife) hailing from Caelin, Pharae, and Ostia, respectively. Lyn had summoned them when she discovered the two spies in Morgantown. As her dearest friends, Lyn hopes they would provide aid and counsel towards the actions of her two hostile neighbors, Tania and Santaruz.
Hector allows himself a stern, if slightly arrogant smile. His form had changed a bit since his fighting days. He'd taken on a considerable amount of weight, adding on fat but keeping the muscle, and grown a couple of inches. His characteristic blue, kinda-groomed-but-not-really hairstyle had stayed consistent, but his chin wears a short beard Lyn would not have allowed on Samuel. His face possesses a few more wrinkles from maturity, but nonetheless appears as youthful as ever.
Eliwood hadn't changed much either. His posture had matured into something taller and more stately, but it's still rather frail when compared to Hector's larger mass. His piercing blue eyes shine with the same kindness, though baggy from some recent loss. The memory of Ninian's parting moments hangs with him to this day, and will until the end of time.
Lady Florina exuded the same beauty she always had. Her gorgeous lavender hair sparkles like a meadow of Lavandula petals, and her eyes conjure up images of a pristine, icy Ilian coastline. Her smile is meek, but friendly, and her hands are smooth. The callouses retrieved from her time as a pegasus knight are long behind her.
Lord Hector nods his head, taking off his glove and putting it down on the Aventurine table. The leather object lands somewhere near the border between Caelin and Tania. "My wife and I came as soon as we received your message. We couldn't stay still upon hearing about the transgressions of your neighbors."
He exchanges a glance with Florina, who meekly smiles. Despite the circumstances, Hector understood Florina couldn't wait to speak to her best friend again. Any excuse was a good excuse for her.
Eliwood says, "Same here. Our three realms have close relations. We are the deepest of friends...though not allies."
Although Caelin, Ostia, and Pherae had all signed treaties of friendship, because of the absence of any marriage ties, they could not form a closer alliance. In Lycia and elsewhere, defensive pacts can only be formed between two ruling houses in this way. Neither Lyn, Hector, nor Eliwood have any relatives to marry off besides their respective children.
Lyn sighs, her eyes reflecting a hint of sadness. "It's a pity, really. An alliance could help me in the situation I'm in right now. Tania and Santaruz are suspected to be conspiring against my kingdom. Samuel said he would interrogate some spies he uncovered in Morgantown, but I haven't seen him since this morning."
Sympathetic, Florina asks, "Um...where do you...think he could be?"
"I haven't an idea. I've had Sain send for him, but—"
Suddenly, the door to the control room opens. Everyone turns their head towards it. Samuel appears from it with his jacket slightly stained with another's crimson. The sight compels Lyn to drop the feather pen she has in her grasp, and Florina to cover her mouth. Meanwhile, Eliwood raises his brow, concerned, while Hector chuckles.
Samuel says, "Hey guys. Did I miss anything?"
Eliwood replies, "Not really but...how do I say this...?"
Lyn walks over to Samuel's side, and with one swift motion, removes the jacket from his upper body. Samuel yelps with surprise, as does Florina, but the latter proves unfounded as it turns out the Chancellor has a tunic underneath. Lyn throws the jacket to a nearby coat rack.
Samuel says, "Hey...what was that about?"
Cold faced, she replies, "Among my tribe, it is considered taboo to carry another's blood on one's clothing during a meeting between leaders. They say the spirits find such a thing insulting."
The Lorca had many traditions that, to be frank, Samuel found odd. Yet, he never dared to question Lyn's culture. There are many things he does that likely conjure up similar emotions for her, but since she did her best to accommodate, Samuel decided he should too.
Eliwood, Hector, and Florina extend their greetings. Eliwood's handshake is firm, yet fair, like the ruler it belonged to. Florina's is a bit weak in terms of force, but surprisingly, exhibited an increased sense of confidence when compared to their war days. Hector's is the toughest to bear of them all, and Samuel's metallic hand creaks under the weight of it. Samuel silently thanks himself for having such a limb, as otherwise, he'd be in a significant amount of pain.
Hector points towards the crumpled up piece of fabric that had recently clung itself to Samuel's body. "Forget that. Why did you come in here looking like that in the first place? A man doesn't just walk in with blood on his jacket."
Samuel responds by lazily throwing himself onto a nearby sofa. He allows his muscles to relax before replying. "Just doing my job. I managed to get some information out of the two spies we captured. I think it'll come to some use to us."
Eliwood frowns, "I never took you as someone who fancied torture. Seeing you so nonchalant is a bit unsettling, if I am to be honest."
Samuel sighs, his breath feeling heavy. Eliwood notices the bulging eyes on his face, a symptom of shock.
"...I did what I had to do to save my family. Up to this point, Caelin had never tortured another soul. We hadn't the reason to." Samuel stares down on his hand. For a moment, a flash of blood appears on them. He doesn't know if it's the blood of the spy, or of one of the many men he slew in his war days. "I could have had someone else do the deed. But...no. This is a sin that will be borne by myself and myself alone. I derive no pleasure from this...the discomfort I feel now is a sliver by what was felt by my victim."
An awkward pause fills the air. Samuel's gaze shifts away from Hector, Eliwood, and Florina, only briefly resting on Lyn. They exchange with him a glance that shows she'd like to speak to him about this at a later time, though reflecting a hint of disappointment with his methods. Although Eliwood reflected some discomfort in the matter, this sentiment is only shared by Florina. As Marquess Ostia and spymaster of one of the most comprehensive spy rings in Elibe, he didn't shy use torture when needed.
Eager to shift the conversation to something more productive, Lyn says, "Anyway, what was the information you got, Samuel?"
He leans up against his seat, straightening his back. "As you already know, Tania and Santaruz recently formed an alliance in the fall of last year. There was some murmuring about the purpose of this arrangement in our court, and then, we surmised this was to serve as a deterrent to the Laotian alliance. But...I've a source that has informed me that their purpose isn't towards them...but Caelin."
Samuel opens up a drawer at the side of the table and retrieves some small, colored blocks. They resemble different shapes and have colors representing nationalities. Green represents Caelin, red for Laus, blue for Tania, and purple for Santaruz. Simple blocks represent common infantry, horses represent calvary, and small books for mages. He puts the pieces onto the center of the table.
He says, "Tania and Santaruz have begun the preliminary stages of war preparations. As we speak, their commanders are putting together a war strategy to overwhelm our forces. The two nations have long-standing claims on our lands thanks to the Treaty of 487, a claim exacerbated by Lyn's limited heritage with the old hero Roland."
The Treaty of 487 was the treaty formed at the end of the last war between Caelin, Tania, and Santaruz. Back then, the two nations had beaten Caelin into submission over a disagreement over resources. Although they hadn't taken any of Caelin's land, they established claims to frighten the ruler to never threaten them again. Neither canton had used these claims in over five hundred years...but evidently that streak will end soon.
Lyn says, "That...is outrageous. Do they really intend to use a baseless claim like that? It's one thing to interfere in our domestic affairs...but all out war?"
Eliwood scratches the bottom of his bare chin. "Tania and Santaruz have been seeing some bad harvest lately. Unlike our nations, they didn't establish granaries to store wheat. They're recovering, but they may be eyeing your land as a solution to that issue."
Hector agrees, "Yes. They've probably calculated the costs of constructing these granaries and concluded that war would be more favorable. They likely viewed your military forces and thought it would be a piece of cake."
Samuel smiles awkwardly, while Lyn stays stone-faced. She rebukes the blue-haired royal. "While you were suiting up men for war, we were building public works, setting up our intellectual scene, and bringing about innovations to better the lives of our citizens. Last time I checked, our people's prosperity is much grander than yours."
Hector's face turns into a scowl. Despite their friendship, they always knew just how to get underneath the other's skin. He replies, "At least my realm doesn't have to worry about two second-rate militaries. If Ostia saw their troops in open battle, the fight would be over by noon!"
Eliwood grabs onto the shoulder of his friend. He always served as the medium between the two, at-times aggressive personalities. "Settle down there, you two. Remember why we're here."
Likewise, Samuel grabs ahold of Lyn's idle hand. Her eyes meet with hers, the coolness behind his doing much to settle the green blaze. He whispers honeyed words into her ear while discreetly caressing the back of her hips.
Returning to normal, they get back to business. Eliwood says, "We understand the precarious situation you're in. Unfortunately, we can't do much for you. My advice to you is that you form an alliance with a monarch that has an army."
Hector adds, "I can provide some dissent next time our diplomats meet in the Lycian Council. Due to our treaty of friendship, Ostia is legally permitted to allocate five hundred soldiers towards your cause. Assuming Pharae can do the same..."
Hector reaches over towards the table and begins allocating troop numbers for different nations. As spymaster of the Ostian spy-ring, he has plenty of information on Tania and Santaruz. Recognizing this, Samuel acts to do the same for Caelin.
Hector says, "Tania has 5000 infantry, 100 armored knights, and 50 mages. Santaruz has 4000 infantry, 200 knights, and 100 mages."
Samuel says, "Caelin has 500 infantry, but we can summon 2500 more through our militia program. We have 100 armored knights, and the 25 mages. Add to that your 1000-man exhibition force, and we have an over 2-1 disadvantage."
Samuel anxiously scratches the back of his head. He looks Hector and Eliwood's way. "Say, one of you don't happen to need a sibling-in-law? I'd rather call one of you two family than anyone else."
Hector replies coldly, "I'm not letting anyone lay hands on my daughter. Not your son, not anyone."
Likewise, Eliwood also declines. "It'd be unfair if I forced my son into marriage, given the manner of how I found Ninian. Her spirit wouldn't forgive me if I made such a decision."
Samuel sighs as he looks over to Lyn's direction. It was worth a shot.
He says, "Well...I suppose we must look at other opportunities. There's no denying this situation just spells disaster. That much of a troop deficit is just beyond me."
Eliwood asks, "So, what are you two going to do?"
Lyn looks away towards the wall. There, she sees the Coat of arms for House Reglay. It'd been given to her as a keepsake after their final battle with Nergal. They are good people, much like Eliwood and Hector.
She says, "Fortunately, an old friend reached out to us recently. They've inquired about a match for their daughter to our dear Carvel. They say her name's Clarine..."
Later...
Serra wears a gleeful smile as she observes the hair of her friend's daughter. Her cheery demeanor sets the young girl at ease, as with her mother and father, who are also present.
"My my...this is quite interesting. I've never seen anything like this before!"
She, Carmel, Lyn, and Samuel are in a room at the castle's hospital ward. Unnervingly, the very same room Wallace had died in many years before, though it was also the most comfortable when compared with its counterparts. Samuel scrubs away memories of the general's passing as he watches Serra work on Carmel.
The little girl squirms as Serra plucks a single hair off her head. Her feet thrash against the blankets of the bed beneath her, throwing part of them onto the ground. Acting quickly, Samuel picks the child up in an effort to soothe her.
Lyn asks, "So, what did you see, Serra? Pardon me for being so pushy...but this whole affair is anxious for us."
Serra takes the hair and places it on a small dish containing a murky, metallic liquid. She replies, "Well, my preliminary tests tell me she's healthy. But...I have a suspicion that I intend to investigate. I recall Samuel's hair color prior was black. What happened in between his time in Caelin and the beginning of our second journey?"
Lyn replies in place of her husband. He's too busy tending to their wailing child. "He...died or something similar. He received some treatment from the Druid Niime, the magic apparently turning his hair white. It didn't change back when he came to."
"Huh...interesting."
Serra pulls the hair from the dish, of which had taken on a full black tone. She looks back towards Lyn. "I'm glad to say the darkening of her hair is nothing out of the ordinary. It would appear it comes as a result of her natural aging. The Druid's magic has passed down to your offspring, but it's beginning to wear off."
Lyn takes in a sigh of relief. A tear drips down from her eye, and overcome with emotion, she envelops Serra in a hug. Serra's taken aback initially, but soon enough she reciprocates the embrace.
Lyn says, "Thank you...I'm...so happy. If anything were to happen to my child...I'd..."
"It's okay...Lyn. I understand. Enjoy your children, milady. You all have many good years ahead."
That night...
Lyn and Samuel lie down in bed, their heads filled with worry. It feels nice to not have to worry about the health of Carmel anymore. But now, a much more brave problem had taken center stage. The fate of their kingdom hangs in the balance, and the more time they spend thinking about what to do, the closer they get to the end.
Samuel's arms are firmly wrapped around his wife, of which he tightens his grip on to bring her body closer to his. He says, "So...what are we going to do? I know you said we'll consider Pent's offer...but I want to make sure you're okay with it."
Lyn presses her head into Samuel's chest, her mouth breathing air onto her beloved. She falls silent, as if hesitating. Eventually, as a gust of wind flows in through the open window, she gives Samuel her response.
"...I remember Lord Pent and Lady Louise being rather nice people. How is their daughter? Is she a nice match for Carvel?"
"I haven't an idea. But, assuming they are involved in raising her, I'd say she'll turn out okay. From my correspondence with Pent, he says she's every bit as beautiful as his wife. There's a reasonable chance Carvel will fall for her when he gets older."
"But will she love him? That's just as important!"
Lyn closes her eyes, imagining a younger version of Louise sitting in the garden of Castle Caelin. Would she love Carvel? Teenagers are a finicky bunch. The last thing I want is a loveless match.
Samuel says, "I...think we have to chance it. Given the alternative, we face a fate where our family could be held in exile...or worse. Pent and Louise are good people. I think Clarine will be good too."
Lyn ponders Samuel's words. Her mind races with all sorts of scenarios, both good and bad. Eventually, she turns to her husband again. She plants a kiss firmly on his forehead, before resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.
She says one last thing before falling asleep. "Tell Lord Pent we will accept his offer. Write a formal invitation for him to visit the castle. He can send a representative if he desires...but know we'll have to negotiate the details."
"...It will be done, my Marchioness."
About a month later...
In Castle Caelin, there are many rooms that serve varying purposes. Some, like the libraries, are mainstays in royal residences. Others, like the laboratory, are more unusual additions. Today, at the end of their morning meeting, Lyn finds herself at the laboratory, eager to speak with the Minister of Science about an important matter.
The ministry of science is another of the handful of departments added by her administration. It's something borrowed from the Etrurian courts, who had a ministry of magic headed by the Mage General, except for the field of Natural Sciences. In essence, this makes it the first of its kind, a trailblazer focusing on a field scarcely attended to in Elibe.
The castle laboratory is in a large room that used to be the castle's ballroom before the new one got built. It has a circular base, long, white marble walls, and cool air. A series of tables are set across the room, each containing bubbling flasks containing unnatural colors. There's even a forge located at the south end of the lab, an attempt to develop new metals that may benefit the realm.
The minister of science (also called the Scientist General) is a lad named Bartholomew, a fifteen year old polymath native to Caelin. He's an eccentric fellow with short, brown hair, which is tied to the back of his head as a ponytail. He wears a lab coat at all times, alongside a pair of thick glasses that resemble more like goggles than possessing a prescription. He has on simple khaki shorts and common sandals. By the appearance of his freckled face, anyone would have mistaken him for a random teenager, much less assume his remarkable intelligence.
Bartholomew waves at his liege from across the room. He has a broken flask in his right hand and a hammer in the other. His boyish smile makes Lyn wonder what the kid was doing. He says, "Yo! Milady! Look at this!"
He puts the broken flask down and waltzes over to a nearby table. On it, Lyn finds an unusual white powder in a wooden bowl. At its side is a pitcher filled with a liquid she recognizes as vinegar. With a proud look on his face, he pours it into the bowl. The powder and vinegar immediately bubble up into a foamy, white mess. Lyn's eyes widen with shock, but this softens when the concoction settles down as soon as it appears.
Bartholomew says, "Cool, huh? What do you think?"
Lyn asks, "Does this have any practical applications? What good does this do for Caelin?"
The word "practical applications" bounces around in the minister's head for a moment, causing him to spontaneously laugh. "Practical applications? Absolutely none. I just thought it would make me look cool." He proudly makes a sideways "victory" gesture across his face. "Did it work?"
Lyn stares at him blankly. "No."
Bartholomew dramatically clutches his heart and then spins around until he lands onto a chair. "Oh...the embarrassment! All I wished was to please my dear Marchioness..."
Lyn rolls his eyes. "Ok, boy. Where is your assistant? I'd like to speak to an adult." She looks around for any other souls...but comes up short. "Actually...where is everyone? I could have sworn we hired at least ten other people to work under you."
Bartholomew replies, "Oh...they're on break. It's a Saturday, you know...so they all went to church. Gotta preach to the Creator...I think."
"Then...why are you still here? Are you a non-believer?"
Bartholomew chuckles, "That's for me to know alone, my liege. However, the reason I'm still here is simple." He takes the hammer and twirls it around his hand in an impressive display of theatrics. "Genius never rests. I am at the cusp of a grand discovery!"
"And what would that be?"
The minister claps his hands together. "I thought you would never ask!" He motions with his hands. "Come, follow me! The forge awaits!"
The two walk over to the lab's forge, a small, if finely built contraption that resembles a wood stove. It's made from a mixture of metal and white ceramics. Mysterious liquid drips from the bottom onto a waiting grate, though Lyn isn't sure if it's water or something else. There's a small window located near the center of the forge. In it, Lyn can see a glowing liquid emitting a bright red tone.
Lyn asks, "What...is this?"
Bartholomew buttons up his coat and retrieves a pair of thick gloves from a nearby table. "It's an experiment on something we've been working on. Milady, I'm sure you've heard of the differing quality of our continent's metals. For instance, iron from Ilia is much stronger than the same material from Missur."
Lyn nods her head slowly. "Yes...I believe I remember Samuel talking about that before."
Bartholomew opens the forge's window. Then, he uses a pair of tongs to retrieve a small, glowing tray from within. On it, Lyn sees two glowing dishes, each containing molten metal. One has a murky tone to its texture, while the other is much clearer. He sets the two down to give Lyn a better look.
He says, "The one on the left is metal taken from our mines, while the right is of material we've treated. This is very similar to the glow Ilian iron makes when under a smith's forge. This is due to the lack of impurities in their metal, of which we've managed to replicate."
Bartholomew puts the metal back into the forge. Then he reaches for a long broadsword hanging against the wall. He hands it to Lyn. Her eyes sparkle for a moment. This had been the first time she'd held onto a weapon for some time. Although it was much too large for her, she marvels at the weightlessness of it. She can see it is of very high quality.
She says, "This blade...it feels amazing."
"We had one of our smiths make that one. If we can expand this process to the rest of our country, we can quickly make it standard among everything we make. This doesn't just mean we'll have better arms and armor than our neighbors. We can have better quality everything. Horseshoes, saddles, tools, you name it. Our merchants will be very elated with this course of events!"
Lyn smiles, pleased with the work of her vassal. "That's great! I'm very proud of you and your ministry, Bartholomew!"
The compliment compels the young teen to blush. "Oh...wow. I just got...from the Marchioness." He leans against a table, his head hot with emotion. "This...might be the greatest accomplishment of my career!"
He raises his hands into the air, as if he's reaching out towards the heavens. "Eureka!"
Lyn waits for him to settle down. Once that happens, she decides to at last ask her subject about why she'd come here.
"Say, Bartholomew. You don't think you could get something done for me...?"
Later...
Lyn finds Lord Pent and Lady Louise at the entrance of Castle Caelin. They come with a small caravan of servants and confidants, though this was to be expected of nobles of their class. Lyn watches as her Reismann works to collaborate with them in their affairs, while she prepares to meet her two old friends with Fiora, and her three children at her side.
"Lord Pent! Lady Louise!" She says while extending her arms forward for a formal embrace. "I'm pleased to see you two have arrived in good health!"
She greets them both, Louise with a hug and Pent with a handshake. She sees that the couple had brought their family with them, a young boy named Klein, and the aforementioned Clarine. Both goldie-locked kids appear to be very close, a fact verified by Clarine's insistence at being at her brother's side. Klein, for one, doesn't appear to mind. Also at Klein's side is a young man named Dieck, of whom she surmised to be about seventeen to twenty years of age.
Lord Pent says, "I am glad to see you are in good spirits. Caelin is much more beautiful in person, I have realized."
Lady Louise adds, "Indeed. You are fortunate to be the ruler of such a fair and prosperous land. The few people we've met speak such high praises for you and your husband."
Lyn smiles at the compliment, but this turns into a more embarrassed gesture as she remembers that her husband isn't with her at the moment. She bows her head, "My apologies. Samuel is out on some business with the rulers of Santaruz and Tania at the border as we speak. This whole thing was set up rather last-minute...but we couldn't turn it down given our situation."
Pent replies, "I understand. I was looking forward to speaking to him again...but that will have to wait." He turns to speak to Fiora. "Besides, where is the red knight Kent?"
Fiora says, "Today marks the day of the meeting of the militias. He's off running some military drills with them, as is expected of their duties."
The meeting of the militias is a day used to meet the military needs of Caelin. Since the realm wields significantly fewer knights than its neighbors, they opted to rely on a different system than the levees that are customary of the age. In Caelin, every family is obligated to provide one able-bodied adult for military service in the local militia. These militias meet once a week at their respective bases for training, while all of them meet once a year for organized drill. It's a very rudimentary system that cuts down on much of the costs of military expenditure, though the quality of the troops are debatable. Military observers across the land consider the Caelin military to be second-rate at best.
Pent says, "I see. Well, I suppose it is what it is." He glances towards his children, and then back at Lyn. "If you wouldn't mind, I think it's about time we had our children meet one another."
Lyn looks down and notices Carmel and Carvel hanging onto the seams of her dress. Laniakea is standing nearby, a bit more confidant, but eyeing the newcomers suspiciously. Most of her attention is towards Clarine, the prospect of another female figure entering the life of her cousin running off her the wrong way.
Lyn says, "I think that's a good thing to do. She leans down and rubs her twin's head of hair. "This is Carvel and Carmel, my pride and joy. We also have my niece, Laniakea." She pats their backs. "Come on now, don't be shy."
Pent says, "Likewise, this is Clarine and Klein. I hope you two will take to them well. We also have Dieck here. He's a good sort."
Clarine and Klein nudge forward, as do Carvel, Carmel, and Laniakea. They hesitate for a moment, but, taking the lead, Carmel reaches her hand out for Klein. The young boy stares at it for a moment, as if waiting for a trap, but relents and takes it.
Carmel says, "My n-name's Carmel. Like...the candy. Nice to m-meet you."
Klein's eyes meet with hers, taking in her words. Eventually, after a tense standoff that can only be shared between two duelists, the tension finally breaks. A smile streaks across his face. "Carmel? Don't you mean Care-ah-mel?"
"Y-Yeah...I g-guess."
The group erupts into laughter. Despite the rocky beginnings, it would appear the quintet of representing the next generation would get along after all.
Pent says, "I think we'll do well to leave them alone. Let's go to our own affairs, shall we Marchioness Caelin?"
Lyn nods, "I agree. Let's give them some time to get to know one another..."
