C77 Winters story 7
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Holy fuck sorry for the wait on this one, works been wearing me to the bone as of late. But, its a wait well worth it. Nearly 6k words. 

If you enjoy my writing, feel free to join the discord server where I'll be posting regular updates, links to new chapters, and any content I manage to wring out. 

https://discord.gg/NkRxwvpWv6

As always, thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy~.

 

"Okay, be patient with me. I haven't had to do this in a while."

 

Grabbing the mace by its shaft and pommel, Stannis tilted the weapon where the stamping was clearly in view. The lines within the metal had already taken a strange dark hue thanks to the inlay of chemicals.

 

"Remember the instructions you received on channeling mana before?" 

 

Stannis asked as he shifted the weapon in his palms.

 

"Vaguely, but I can't channel mana. All I can do is poor it out like-"

 

I made the motion as if I were dumping a bucket of water.

 

"I can dump it into my sword I guess, but that's about it."

 

Stannis nodded in response, taking a moment to parse his words.

 

"I remember, it's still fairly strange you could direct it within the blade at all given your usual state. It's rather life-saving considering the Dire Wolverine you ran across looked to be an alpha."

 

Stannis paused for a moment taking a glimpse back at the inert greatsword.

 

"Anyways, if you can do that you might be able to rune-lock things and unlock them as well."

 

Stannis drew attention to the pommel as he released it and began cupping it. 

 

“First, as usual, let the mana flow.”

 

Stannis began slowly letting mana free, a light blue flow of mana began crossing the gap from his palm to the inlay. 

 

“Now, usually when you do this you can also lock away things if you say… hmm. If you had a hollow pommel, you can store a coin or two. In some cases, I’ve seen people roll up letters and place them underneath the leather wrap of their grip. The only way to get it off the wood without damaging it would be to unlock the weapon.”

 

With the flow of mana, the inlay slowly began to emit a light of its own. Sparks began to pop as the glow grew more fierce until it was as if a light bulb was just switched on. Then suddenly, in an anticlimactic manner, the glow faded almost in an instant. With the glows disappearance, only the metal inlay remained. No hue from the chemical wash, no sparks, nor mystical bold color. 

 

Curious, I reached out to poke it before hesitating.

 

I'd never watched anything be man locked, for the life of me I couldn't recall it once since waking up here. To see it happen was like something out of a video game.

 

Noticing my hesitation, Stannis nodded and pointed.

 

"Go ahead, touch it."

 

For some reason the instinct to 'do not do this' struck just a few inches before I managed to place a finger on the bare metal. Almost instantly, mana began to sap away when I touched it. It wasn't rapid, but a noticeable steady pace as it bled energy away. Taking my hand away, my mana slowly recuperated.

 

"That's what rune locking does, it saps the energy of anyone not tuned to it. The only reason anyone of us can even touch your sword is thanks to the sheath you have over it."

 

Stannis gestured to my blade as he spoke.

 

"So, that's what my sword does to people when they hold it?"

 

I looked back to the sheathed weapon, tilting my head with the revelation.

 

"Well, the effect depends on the user as well. Yours tends to give off a stinging sensation on top of the mana draw. It's thankfully enough that it's not an issue. Say if you were a knight though. The level of mana I've seen pushed through the rune has sometimes produced scars on those unwise enough to grab a sword that wasn't their own."

 

Stannis chuckled momentarily.

 

"That being said, the more complex the rune is you may sometimes be able to have someone else pour their mana alongside yours. This would make them able to hold it without issue."

 

For some time Stannis went on with rune locking, recounting amusing stories, old acquaintances, and even removing his glove to show a scar one of his old friends has given him. 

 

"The rune lock that gave me this scar was when I was Callum's age and he was almost indistinguishable from Vaughn."

 

Stannis looked at his palm, rubbing it with his other hand as he spoke. 

 

"One of the senior Paladins in our party had a strict policy of never letting his sword out of reach. One evening we were ambushed and I reached for his sword out of instinct, it was closest after all. Well, that was one painful sword swing but at least it saved my life."

 

The furrowed brow and an expression of longing for a time long past were soon replaced with a softened smile and squinted eyes.

 

"Be it as it were, that's why I teach you this. So you can make use of it."

 

Stannis looked at my sword and sighed as the tone calmed. 

 

"I'd heard someone else sealed it for you. I wonder how exactly they managed to do it, considering the Hag-Elf couldn't figure it out even now."

 

Stannis jokingly referred to Lorn, slowly and gently placing the die set away.

 

With that done, the meaning of the afternoon had nearly come to pass before a sudden hurried knock reverberated through the door.

Stannis raised a brow before turning around from his seat and staring at the door in confusion.

 

Isn't everyone just eating? Can't they come in?

 

The door knocked once more as I wondered why the visitor would knock at all. Given this was the guard post, there was little doubt it would have been someone already allowed in.

 

"Alright Kiyomi, you may have to make merriment with the others. It seems I'm being taken away from the activities. Do me a favor aye? If I take too long, head to Lorns office to look for your Mom. Do try to wait as long as your patience permits though."

 

Stannis placed a hand on my head as he stood, brushing my hair aside casually as the wood creaked.

 

"More damned work."

 

He mumbled as he approached the door and swung it open.

 

"What is it now? Can't you see this is my day off?"

 

Stannis grumbled angrily.

 

Day off? This is how the old man spends his free time? Sheesh, he's a workaholic for real.

 

My tail swayed as I leaned forward, attempting to gain sight of the person Stannis spoke to.

 

"Forgive me Captain, but as the Lord Orders, I'm still to debrief you when we have any update of information."

 

The familiar voice of a woman, a particular guard that nipped at the recent memory.

 

Ah, the gate Captain? I think I heard her name a couple of times, Marilyn? Karen?... ah, Evelyn?

 

I listen to the two speak, searching for any kind of confirmation of my thought.

 

"Evelyn, now? Can it wait?"

 

The elf shook her head as Stannis complained, frowning out of possible guilt for her own timing.

 

"No way, no how. Same as usual, you know grandma will have my neck."

 

Evelyn crossed her arms prompting Stannis to exhale in an obviously aggravated tone.

 

"Fine, change of plans Kiyomi, I'm dropping you off. For fuck sake."

 

Stannis grumbled as he turned, prompting me to grab my things.


"Do I really?"

 

Lorn asked, her eyes half closed as she held herself over her desk. Her hands were posting her up as she swayed from exhaustion.

 

"Uncle Stannis and Miss Evelyn said Mamma was going to be with them, and Vaughn is training with Uncle Cal. Beryl is also in a study session last I checked, so I wanted to get some reading done."

 

Lorn sighed before throwing back one of her pills, chasing it with a cup of coffee as she slumped back into her chair.

 

"Just do your best to keep quiet, okay? I need to rest, and this is the most isolated room outside of the castle. If you can keep things down to a murmur you can stay."

 

The usually stoic and teasing Lorn seemed uncharacteristically frail compared to usual. Considering her work, it wasn't a surprise, yet she still seemed weak in comparison. Her hands shook from time to time and while she was tired and needed rest, she refused to let herself slumber. Instead, she maintained her posture, breathing in a controlled manner.

 

"What is it you're doing exactly?"

 

I moved the rest of the way through the entrance, gently closing the door to the room. With a faint click, the latch was closed and now only the sound of wind buffering the ceiling and the crackle of fire was present. With the flow of cool air behind me cut off by the mahogany doors, Lorns office was surprisingly warm given a significant portion of a wall was just glass. 

 

"Attempting to collect myself. With age comes strain, and if I don't spend my time periodically ensuring my mental state then I run the risk of degenerating… you know, becoming a blathering old hag as you would say."

 

Lorn craned her neck as she spoke, her brows raising as a mocking tone escaped her. I turned my head to the side as I walked to the desk at Lorn's side.

 

"Who said anything about blathering? Ranting is on the table, you know?"

 

Lorn's response was kept simple as she snorted, though I couldn't tell if it was a stifled laugh or a restrained click of her tongue.

 

"I'll do my best to be quiet, 'grandma."

 

I joked, gently placing my sword on the surface of the table I used. Making my way to the shelving of books that littered the wall past Lorn's hunting trophies, I began scanning for words that seemed like they would allude to further information. Lorn simply grunted at my remark, returning to her initial posture.

 

If I can't spend my time hanging out with anyone else, the least I can do is spend it like I did before winter started. I still have my own research to do, as slow as it is.

 

Ever since the incident with me sneaking out of town with Vaughn and Beryl in tow, Noone gave us an inch of space without supervision. For kids, we were a surprisingly resourceful bunch, and our parents all saw that as a liability. By extension, I haven't had much time to study anything outside of outline subjects. That unfortunately meant of course-

 

There's fuck all on reincarnation, or possession, fuck all. Can't find a damn thing even down to a fragment of religious text. The history books are vague and don't cover much outside of historical discoveries or the founding of nations. There's not a lick of science either, but what else can I expect?

 

Lorn's selection wasn't the largest by any means, but it still carried a fair variety of subjects. No fiction, which was strange given Lorn had to find interest in something to pass the time. It was purely informational text for reference or instruction, anything outside of that lacked any kind of title.

 

Even this section…

 

Looking over one of the lower shelves, it was composed of blank cover books. Checking a few off-handed, nothing seemed special outside of scrawled notes and a few symbols so I'd passed them off as nothing of importance. I was at a relative impasse, given the only place I could search for religious text now was the Temples. That was off of the table for the time being given the utter strangeness of a child delving into a hoard of religious text. 

 

Given my supposed link to Solah, Mamma might not be too happy with the idea… granted she's at the temple at least twice a week. Should I join her sometime? 

 

I thought about the topic for some time as I browsed, checking book to book. Only worldly topics such as geography, politics, commerce, and ecology. Nothing related to the Gods or anything that might point to theology at all in any shape was present

 

Fine, fuck it. I can't look at our condition more but I can at least push more into reading about Va-ren.

This is all there is?

 

I sat at the table looking over my selection.

 


 

Anthology: The Great War in the south.

 

Old tribes of Va-ren

 

Va-ren logbook of Fauna

 

Trade records of the Eastern territories

 


 

Fuck all, there is fuck all but maybe I can work with that. 

 

I did my best to quietly place the books in a stack before making my way to the couch I'd normally studied at.

 

What has it been, two earth years? The shit is discouraging but it's hard with these handicaps of zoning out on this one thing. I know Kiyomi is from there but that's all I have to lead on.

 

My status screen came up as I took my seat on the couch, my feet no longer hanging as they maintained contact with the ground. Looking over my status, my eyes fell on a particular section that remained since fighting at the mountain pass alongside Beryl and Vaughn.

 


Titles: Clan Matriarch

Retainers:

 

Vaughn Baros

 

Beryl Halkias

 

Sarah Vakara


I wasn't an idiot in my own mind, granted I knew I was a bit impulsive and headstrong. Sarah Vakara was the name that stuck out like a red flag. Aside from the fear-inducing idea of 'Clan Matriarch', I focused on the name. While it was a long shot, looking into this Vakara woman was probably my best bet on shedding some light.

 

Sarah… the name feels… odd. Like it's familiar somehow.

 

The status as retainers must have meant one of two things. One, I am or was intrinsically close to whoever was granted the title. 

 

It's a given that Beryl and Vaughn feel close to me in some way. The way they both interact with me not only since the Bulette attack but the mountain pass as well.

 

How we all talk seems laxer since then, familiar. It's strange, but it was like talking to old friends. It felt reminiscent of talking to Callum, how I would let go of the playful little girl act. 

 

Back to the subject, fuck me trying to think straight is hard. Okay Kiyomi, we need to focus. No more of this spacing out and making shit hard for me to read. Now, let's see if we can find Vakara in the 'Old tribes of Va-... Va-ren. Not off to a great start already.

 

The second thing the status meant, was that anyone made a retainer is surely alive. That meant that someone that Kiyomi knew, is alive and that I can get her back to them.

 

I don't know how long I'll be around… I could suddenly never wake up, and Kiyomi would pick up where I left off… or I'd simply be stuck here in her place as I have been… living her life.

 

I placed the first of the books on my lap, opening its cover. The sound of pages shifting and falling atop each other accompanied the sound of wind and fire. Its pages hadn't been touched in some time, but it appeared relatively clean compared to the others in the set. As if it'd seen regular use.

 

Vakara… Vakara… where are you…


It'd been some time since I'd started, Lorn had finished her 'meditation', and workers from the guild had come and gone. The afternoon came and went, as the sun was just setting and snow had begun to fall much harsher compared to the morning. All in that time, I'd managed to sift through my selection of books and find at least some info.

 

A majority of clan names lead to dead ends. The book seemed to be out of date, as its newest timestamps all dated it at roughly a hundred-fifty years old. The current year was nine-forty-eight of the Imperial calendar.

 

That would date this book at… eeeh, the year seven-ninety-five?

 

 Thirty-four names in total from the book's beginning, most snuffed out by either the Great War or by civil wars encompassing Va-ren for hundreds of years before it was even an established country. Only nine names seemed to remain relevant, eight for their continued existence, and one for their exact spelling.

 


 

Clan Jormungand 

 

Clan Firebrand

 

Clan Curran

 

Clan Radomir

 

Clan Turmã 

 

Clan Khaliun

 

Clan Yrian

 

Clan Kulta

 

Clan Vakara

 


Jormungand, actually… let's read up on this one again. Let's see, pages-pages- ah!

Clan Jormungand, the eldest clan of the region. Presumed wiped out just before the onset of the Great War, Clan Jormungand found itself resurgent in part due to the loyalty of its sister Clans Vakara, and Radomir.

 Little is yet recorded of current numbers but the clan is recorded as low as under fifty. Though its numbers are small, Clan Jormungand finds itself with no shortage of support thanks to its inherent charisma and reputation in battle. The bloodline can find its roots in various foreign clans, as well as dead clans. 

 

Nothing else?

 

I continued scanning for some time within the passage, however, nothing much was evident other than the names of dead clans that were absorbed within Jormungand. Up until the end where it states the absorption of Clan Vakara.

 

Imperial year seven-ninety, Clan Vakara is absorbed into Clan Jormungand under the order of Clan Vakara's patriarch, Jānis Vakara. This proclamation follows the end of 'The Bleeding', a seven-year war that claimed four clans and preceded the final unification of the region under the reign of Clan Jormungand. 

This decision resulted In the marriage of then, Queen Signe Jormungand and Jānis Vakara. While the decision alone was controversial, it served to swell the ruling clan's territory and to solidify an already aging bond between each Clan. 

 

It seems Clan Vakara is alive in some way, considering Miss Sarah is still somewhere. The same could be said for Jormungand, though it looks like the name changed at some point, so I'm some extended family or something.

 

I flipped pages to reveal the next section.

 


 

The current verifiable family tree by imperial records is as follows:

 

Clan head: 

Queen Signe Jormungand

King Jānis Vakara

 

Siblings:

Sarah Vakara (by marriage)

Kain Vakara (by marriage)

Children:

Erik Jormungand

Ihle Jormungand

Artyom Radomir(by marriage)

 

Deceased:

King Zotikos Jormungand (former-Imperial house of Sideris)

 


That is some news, is this the same Sarah? It can't be, unless-

 

I peeked over to Lorn who was now flipping away at paperwork, scanning for mistakes or out-of-place documents.

 

The only explanation of that part is either Sarah is an Elf, a Higher demon, or she's just got the same name. Though…

 

I looked back down at the book.

 

I doubt it would be that much of a coincidence. Let's move on to Clan Vakara, and do some digging into this name.

 

Clan Vakara, finding its origins in former imperial western territories, is the youngest recorded Clan to date as of Imperial year seven-forty. Originally hailing from the western territories, they are the only non-native clan.

 

  Preceding the Great War, Clan Vakara was primarily caravan-based. Finding their roots in producing anything from utensils to swords. In the lead-up to the great war, Clan Vakara found itself within the eastern territories of the empire in hopes of prospective trade with a number of the feudal Lords. In the short time after their arrival before the outbreak of the war, Clan Vakara found itself caught in a feud between Clan Jormungand and Clan Kulta. 

 

 With Clan Kulta set on ensuring their rivalry ended, they attempted to clash with Clan Jormungand amidst a trade meeting when most of Clan Jormungand's bloodline was present. Many were slain amongst Clan Jormungand, and by extension, Clan Vakara. Of the dead, confirmed individuals account for the late King Zotikos Jormungand, Robert Vakara, and numerous siblings and children amongst both Clans present. 

 

 With the feud claiming many lives of both clans, they found themselves linked to each other for survival through the coming war. After the Great wars passing, Clan Vakara found itself in loyal service to Clan Jormungand for the remainder of its existence until it was absorbed in the marriage between Queen Signe Jormungand and King Jānis Vakara. The marriage caused little discourse within the two Clans themselves, as all Clan members at that time were Higher demons. However, the ensuing struggle for power amongst other Clans under their rule increased tenfold in the following years.

Okay, so that's a bit more history than I thought I'd get out of it. Lorn's had to of looked into this at some point. 

 

I sighed audibly before placing the book to the side.

 

So that's that, plenty, but less than a confirmation. There's no guarantee she'd be that same Sarah anyhow. 


Is she asleep yet? 

 

Lorn thought to herself as she peeked up from her work, attempting to confirm if she was in the clear. 

 

I thought she'd just sit here and mull over her time with some books before going to see her friends. I didn't think she would spend her entire evening here.

 

Lorn sighed as she placed her pencil on the table's surface, her chair pivoting as she turned to look outside. The sun was finally down, the horizon just barely glowing still thanks to the light hitting the mountains. Lanterns and magic were now the primary sources of light as the town glowed.

 

How late is it?

 

Lorn looked at a small clock placed at the corner of its desk, the hands ticking onward as she looked.

 

Seven O'clock.

 

Lorn rubbed her face, placing pressure on her eyes before letting off of them and looking to the couch. Kiyomi lay atop it, three books to her side and another sprawled open in her lap as she slept. With a muffled exhale, she stood and made her way over to the slumbering child. As she got closer, the words along the book spines were easier to make out. 

Old tribes of Va-ren

 

Va-ren logbook of Fauna

 

Trade records of the Eastern territories

Lorn frowned as she kneeled down beside Kiyomi, looking over the selection of books Kiyomi collected. She'd hoped it would be sometime longer before Kiyomi's curiosity won out, but the girl was already looking into herself. Considering the level of life-threatening scenarios the child found herself in already, Lorn was afraid of the chance that the girl might be swept up in an adventure. She remembered her own youth well, and with Kiyomi's teen years approaching fast, it had Lorn on edge for her own sake as well as Hatsumi's. 

 

And you've yet to even talk to us about that status.

 

Lorn pinched the bridge of her nose as she looked over Kiyomi, her skill Scour activating as she did. 

 


 

Name: Kiyomi Jormanr

Age: 11

Race: Lower Demon (High Demon, unattributed)

Sex: Female

Class: Adventurer (Unattributed)

Level: 11 (19)

 

HP: 1000/1000

MP: 1300/1300

 

Constitution: 5 (10)

Strength: 9 (18)

Dexterity: 8 (16)

Intelligence: 7 (15)

Wisdom: 7 (14)

Charisma: 8 (17)

 

Thirst: 1000/1000

Hunger: 1000/1000

Titles: None (Matriarch of Jormanr), (Hidden), (Hidden)

Status: (Passive skill, Disguise(in effect)).

 

Skills: Disguise lvl2, Mana pool lvl2, Cleave lvl1, Endurance lvl1, Violent impact lvl1

 

Hidden information detected, Disguise lvl2 circumvented

 

Secondary information:

 

Non-party status:

 

Kiyomi Jormanr (Clan Matriarch)

Vaughn Baros (Matriarch's retainer)

Beryl Halkias (Matriarch's retainer)

 



Do you plan to just keep this under wraps kid? Those other two as well can see their own status. They must have noticed it by now, especially that little viper. Gregor's boy may not check much, but Beryl is surely looking at her own as each day progresses.

 

Lorn paused as she thought, instinctively reaching for the book in Kiyomi’s lap before hearing a rap on the door. 

 

More work? For Tyr’s sake, I don’t need more on my plate. I should have half the mind to hire a full-time assistant. 

 

Kiyomi stirred, causing Lorn to move her hand back so as not to wake the child. 

 

Slaving away aside, I should bring this up to their parents. In a way, all their petty squabbling about ‘who will win’ is validated. Gods that’ll be a gambling ring I don’t want to be part of. They’d bleed me of all my coin if I fell into that. 

 

Lorn stood, walking to the door as the rapping repeated itself. 

 

Who even could it be? Most of the clerks would be tidying up by now.

 

Lorn allowed her perception to widen out, the mana of two particular individuals shining out as the entire radius of the upper floor lit up with the flow of mana. 

 

Oh? Well, as good a timing as ever.

 

Lorn stretched her hands to loosen her cramped muscles before reaching forward. Opening the doors, she whispered as quietly as she could as she cut off the sudden greeting of a small Lamia. 

 

“Hello, Miss Lorn! We were-”

 

“Quietly, quietly, you two. You don’t want to wake her up, not until we’re done talking.”

 

Lorn motioned in her two guests, Vaughn, and Beryl, before gently closing the door behind them.


The three sat quietly at Lorn’s desk, Vaughn shrinking in his chair from the out-of-place mood in the air, and Beryl fidgeting awkwardly in her coils. At this point, the two had never spoken directly to Lorn themselves. They’d always had Kiyomi or a parent present, and while Kiyomi was present she was also idly drooling onto the couch behind them. 

 

“I’m sure you two may be confused as to why I ushered you both in here to talk without any notice, so I’ll just lead with why you were here.”

 

Lorn spoke softly, setting the tone for the children as she leaned forward in her chair with her hands clasped together on the desk. 

 

“Ah, we were here for her.”

 

Beryl turned her head for a moment, looking at Kiyomi through her periphery. Vaughn spoke next, pulling Lorn’s attention to himself. 

 

“We were sent to fetch her so she could say goodbye to Miss Hatsumi before she left. That and she’ll be joining our families for supper.”

 

Lorn raised her brows before sighing.

 

“Damn, I’d forgotten that minx was due to leave town. There's been a lot going on lately, the plans to take her along were relatively last minute.”

 

Lorn took a moment of pause before sipping from a cup of now room-temperature coffee. The bitterness of the fluid mixed with the unpleasant temperature caused her face to contort for a moment.

 

“Given that news, I’ll keep this brief.”

 

The elf closed her eyes, exhaling before looking back to Vaughn and Beryl. 

 

“I imagine you two both have seen the status you gained roughly six months ago? When you were at the pass with Kiyomi, just after killing the pack of monsters you fought?”

 

Lorn used Scour once more, ensuring a lack of mistakes on her part. Vaughn and Beryl grew still for a moment, a clear shock of fear striking them for just a moment before Vaughn answered firmly.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin-”

 

Lorn waved her hand aside as if brushing a fly away, bringing her eyes solely to Vaughn as she glared at him. 

 

“Cut the bull, for now, Vaughn. I can see everything clearly, you don’t get as old as I am and not be able to gather information out of the air. I can see your status, you both are marked as retainers.”

 

Vaughn and Beryl hesitantly looked to each other for a moment before Vaughn slowly sunk into his chair once more. With the baton passed to Beryl considering Vaughn’s failed attempt at a lie, the girl straightened her posture before speaking. 

 

“We don’t exactly know what it means, though.”

 

 Beryl answered carefully, taking a moment before continuing. 

 

“It appeared to us in separate messages compared to the skills and level we gained that day. We sort of understand what a retainer is, but why Kiyomi? Clan? Matriarch?”

 

Beryl seemed lost with her own wording, unsure of what to say or ask. Lorn was unsure if this was thanks to Beryl's lack of understanding or just the pressure of an authority figure. 

 

“We never really asked 'cause we figured Kiyomi was keeping quiet for a reason.”

 

Beryl clasped her hands together as she finished talking, looking back at Lorn as if she awaited some kind of guidance. Lorn looked to her cup for a moment, pondering her own words as she placed her fingers on the rim. Turning the cup a few odd degrees before continuing, Lorn returned her gaze to Beryl.

 

“Then for now don’t bring it up, however, I’ll answer your questions. You’re too young to recall but Va-ren, your former home, is ruled by a system of Clans.”

 

Lorn paused for a moment, choosing to hold her tongue about Kiyomi’s own clan considering the weight such knowledge may hold in the children. 

 

“Kiyomi is a refugee as you two are, though she remembers little of it. Has she ever spoken much on the subject with you?”

 

Lorn asked, sure to keep her tone as undemanding as possible.

 

“Not much. All she’d spoken about was vague memories of people and places. Outside of that, she seems to keep her focus on the now. If we ever do ask her anything direct she kind of-”

 

Beryl pauses, raising her hands and holding them in place for a moment while maintaining silence. After a moment, Lorn raised her brow in confusion before relaxing at Beryl’s continued speech.

 

“-Freezes up like an animal that's just been caught. When that happens, she’s out for at least a few minutes. It’s like flipping a light switch.”

 

Lorn nods patiently before responding. 

 

“That's par the course so far, she’s done that ever since we found her. You two remember the wagons you rode in on well?”

 

Lorn asked as her pointer finger raised and fell back to her desk. 

 

“Bloodstained wood, your trailing wagon caring wounded, and every resource and good your people could scrounge thrown in haphazardly. The arrows riddled those wagons from what I remember.”

 

Lorn’s recollection trailed off as she watched the two children grimace with each passing word. 

 

“Not too unlike Kiyomi when we found her.”

 

At the mention of the demon’s name, the two looked up from their laps. The bond with the girl was clear in their eyes as they shot up to meet Lorn. 

 

“From what I was told, she was small. Her feet could swing as she sat on that couch.”

 

Lorn’s finger tapped once more. 

 

“She came out of the woods screaming for help, crying as she clung to that steel of hers for dear life. An arrow came flying out of the trees and planted itself through her right lung.”

 

Lorn tapped her chest, pointing where the scar once marked Kiyomi. 

 

Her clothes were soaked, completely unsalvageable. Had her mother not been present, nor her party, Kiyomi would have bled to death there."

Lorn looked to the tow as they listened intently. 

 

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who was responsible.”

 

Something Lorn hadn't expected was bleeding through onto the children's faces. Anger, the thought of their friend being preyed upon as they once were subtly agitating them. 

 

“Needless to say, her Clan… is dead. With her, the sole survivor, the only woman of Jormanr's name presumed alive, the Gods must have named her the sole heir. And with that, she is the leader of her house, be it dead or alive.”

 

Lorn paused, allowing her words to sink in as the two children calmed from the heavy discussion. 

 

“But that doesn't explain why we’re her retainers, why us?”

 

Beryl asked, her head tilting as if the question were forced. Lorn simply tilted her own in response and brought her own question forth. 

 

“Would a king trust a random commoner as his Knight? She trusts you two-”

 

Lorn spoke in the most tender tone she could, the faded years of maternal experience bleeding through her aging voice with a struggle. 

 

“-, and you trust her. That is all you need for now. You will all figure it out with time, but I’m sure you both understand why you were given those titles deep down. Don’t take them for granted, and don’t feel wary of them. But know, when she’s ready to discuss it, she will.”

 

With those words, Kiyomi stirred one last time before sharply inhaling. A soft yawn marked the end of the conversation as the demon slowly sat herself up and tossed the book she’d held to the side with a flump. 

 

“Be sure to tell Hatsumi goodbye for me, aye Vaughn?”

 

Lorn asked the boy, receiving a confident nod in turn.

 

“And Beryl?”

 

The Lamia paused as she uncoiled herself, waiting for any words Lorn had to give. 

 

“Some things, you may not be comfortable asking a parent. Anytime you two need to talk, my door is open. Just leave the birds and the bees out of it, I’m not picking up that slack.”

 

Lorn left Beryl confused for a moment before the girl blushed and looked away awkwardly.

 

“Iii think I don’t wanna have that talk with anyone if I can avoid it.”

 

Lorn chuckled and nodded, waving away the two as they moved to fetch their cargo.

 

“Hu- wha? Mama? Sh-Crap, what? Okay, I’m up!”

 

With the two prompting their friend, Vaughn, Beryl, and Kiyomi all made their way to the exit in a hurry to meet their deadline. Lorn sighed with the click of the door, speaking aloud to herself. 

 

“What kind of show are you all setting those kids up for Tyr? I’m certain it’s not a whim.”

 

It was a few moments before the figure of a young man showed himself, as always when Lorn was alone and pondering his antics. 

 

“No show, a future.”

 

The sing-song tone was gone from his voice was absent, a far cry to his current mood. Looking at the couch where he was seated, he appeared to be crossing his arms as he looked to the door. His face was placid instead of happy, appearing deep in thought. 

 

“A future, Tyr?”

 

Lorn asked, expecting no response. 

 

“One better than those I’ve seen.”

 

Tyr responded, disappearing shortly after and leaving Lorn to herself.

 

And for all of us to bear witness.

 

Lorn raised her cup of coffee to her lips, taking another sip of the cold liquid. 

 

“And I would say it’s time for myself to call the curtains on my own work day, the paperwork can wait for the morning.”

 

With that Lorn snuffed the fire she’d set in her fireplace, leaving the darkness to fall over her office as she closed its doors behind her. 

60