Maneuvering down the muddy roads, a small caravan trudges along at a slow yet steady pace. In the center, a cart loaded with various goods is being pulled by a pair of horses as two moderately dressed men sit at the front of it. Surrounding the cart are eight or so men walking on foot with one leading them on horseback.

It's been a few days since they set off from Remire Village, but the atmosphere is still oppressive and quiet, largely due to the mounted figure leading the group.

As the sun begins to hang low in the sky, he suddenly motions for the caravan to stop, “This is a good area to make camp for the night, start setting up.”

Without missing a beat all the mercenaries hurry to fulfill his command, not wanting to become the next target of his ire while simultaneously also recognizing the ability he has to lead and organize them. Even the merchants that hired the men can only quietly go along with his orders.

Watching everyone scurry about, the individual nods his head while gently getting down from his steed and looking at the babe in his arms. Despite having only been born for several weeks he already looks a bit bigger and healthier, although he still has never made any sort of sound worth mentioning.

Getting himself and his mount settled in for the night, the father and son duo begin to eat their respective dinners separate from the rest of the group. However, one individual breaks apart from the rest and approaches the pair, much to the worry of everyone else present.

“Hello, uhm… Jeralt sir, is it all right if I sit here?”

Looking up from his meal, the former captain peers at the man in front of him before nodding and returning to his food. “Thank you, sir.”

Sitting down, silence returns once again as the two simply continue to eat their dinner.

“Well, I just wanted to say that, uhm, I really admire the strength that you’ve displayed these last couple of days. Also… I wanted to apologize regarding the matter with that person in Remire, he was a loudmouth, and no one here really liked him very much…”

The awkward silence returns as Jeralt continues eating his rations, seemingly ignoring the man across from him.

Deciding his presence is unwelcome the mercenary scratches the back of his head, “Well, that’s all that I wanted to say so I’ll leave you and your son to yourselves now. Thank you for listening.”

After saying his piece, he rises and rejoins all the others who are surprised and happy that no incident occurred. Jeralt watches as the mercenary walks away and seems to think about something for a moment before going back to his food.

Over the coming days, the same individual repeatedly goes up to him and attempts to make conversation, slowly getting him to open up a bit. Now that same mercenary named Zane is walking along with Jeralt at the forefront of the caravan, occasionally exchanging words with him.

These two lead the way into the town of Stillhaven, a considerably larger and more affluent place than Remire. This was the destination of the traveling merchants and thus, Jeralt’s first job as a mercenary was completed.

Quickly getting settled, the two travelers pay all the men they hired, even giving the new father twice as much as the others.

“This is more than we agreed on.” 

“No, no, it’s a gift, we want you to have it. We insist you take it, and also… we wanted to make sure that there was no issue between us…” one of them says while letting out a nervous laugh.

The former captain stares at the pair in front of him for a second as he sighs softly, “No, we’re fine, there is no issue. Thank you for the gift.”

Saying so he walks away from them while the two merchants behind him let out their breath, glad to be away from the frightening man they had the misfortune of running into in that small village.

Walking over to his horse, he gives him a light pat before shifting the baby in his arms and grabbing the reigns, leading the way to an inn.

Walking into the attached stable he sees a young boy sitting off to the side fast asleep in the shadows of the beams. Loudly clearing his throat hoping that would wake him, the stableboy just continues to snore softly.

Shaking his head, he walks over to him and slowly begins to shake his shoulder, causing the stable boy to groggily open his eyes. Blank green eyes look up at Jeralt for a moment before he then lets out a small scream as he throws himself backward on his seat, falling to the ground.

A few minutes later, he leaves the stable and heads towards the inn entrance with his son under the watching eyes of the now red-faced stable boy.

Heading into the rather large inn, he quickly makes his way to the front desk which was being manned by an older woman with a few gray hairs on her head. “Hello there, how much for one night?”

The woman gives him a once over, her dark eyes settling on the baby while she responds, “10 gold a night. You can order food right over there and there’re buckets out back for washing.”

Nodding, Jeralt places his coin on the counter and the innkeeper quickly gives him a small key and tells him his room number. Proceeding to the stairs, he intends to go to his room, but is quickly stopped by the older woman, “Wait a moment there, why don’t you hand that child to me for now,” she says in a serious voice.

The former knight stops and turns to look at her with a questioning and slightly annoyed look. She doesn’t back down and briskly walks over to him while pointing her finger at his chest, beginning to scold him in a motherly voice.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, what kind of man are you raising a kid like this? Just look at him, he’s all dirty! I can smell from here that you haven’t been cleaning him properly, and just from looking I bet he’s hungry too. Honestly, you clearly don’t know the first thing about caring for children. Hand him to me so my daughter can give him a proper cleaning.”

A bit dumbfounded at her sudden words and actions Jeralt only dumbly stands there as she continues to lightly insult him while asking for the baby. A sudden swift movement knocks him out of his daze as he sees the innkeeper deftly and gently taking his son from his arms despite his hold on him.

Before he can react, she passes over the dirty child to a younger woman who quickly scurries off with his kid. Shocked at the turn of events, he is about to run after them but instead gets stopped by the gray-haired lady once more.

“My daughter only took the babe to wash and feed them, no need to get all flustered. Go get settled and clean, once you’re ready you can have the child back and not a moment before.”

Although slightly angered by the events, Jeralt decides to calm down as he can tell that she means no harm. Furthermore, all of her words so far have been true from what he could tell with his senses that he’s honed over the countless years.

Despite feeling confident that likely no harm will come to him, he can’t help but feel anxious about being separated from his son. The woman, sensing his feelings, softens her expression and tone as she shows him where her daughter is busy cleaning the baby, along with some other young girls who are likely the daughter’s own children.

Slightly eased, Jeralt awkwardly thanks the old lady as he quickly goes to his room and gets settled, then comes back down and washes all the grime off his body and armor in the rear of the inn. It takes a while since the washing arrangements were very simple, but the results speak for themselves as Jeralt finally felt clean and refreshed.

Heading back into the inn, about thirty minutes after checking in, he goes to the same room where the young mother was caring for his baby.

Walking in, he sees her breastfeeding his son as she tends to the other children around her. He looks at the clean child currently greedily suckling the woman and can’t help but feel a bit sad and ashamed.

Sad because it should be his own mother caring for him this way and ashamed because he hasn’t been properly providing for the needs of his newborn.

After a few minutes of silently watching the mother feed his son, she speaks to him in a soft voice, “Does the boy not have a mother to care for him?”

Jeralt looks at her for a moment before lightly shaking his head and responding in a sad and quiet voice, “No… she died during childbirth.”

The blonde young woman smiles dolefully, “I see, what a terrible thing, to be claimed by the goddess and leave her child without a mother.”

Jeralt says nothing and the lady once again speaks, “You may come to me for as long as you’re here, I will feed the child and show you how to properly care for him.”

Looking at her in surprise, he thanks her. “That’s… thank you so much, that would be a big help.”

She smiles while walking towards him and motions for him to take the still sucking baby. “Are you sure? He seems to still be drinking.”

“No, he’s all full now, he just doesn’t want to let go. You can take him.” Saying so, she gently takes the baby away from her breast before handing him to the former knight.

“Why don’t you go have something to eat before my mother comes and starts nagging you again,” she says while pulling her dress back over her exposed chest. 

Thinking of the feisty old woman, Jeralt nods his head while quickly walking towards the tavern area.

Later, as he is eating, the flaxen-haired father hears a chair move as someone sits down at his table. Glancing up he sees Zane, the same young mercenary that had been trying to talk to him during their last escort.

He's a young man in his late teens with ginger hair and a constant easy smile on his freckled face. Clear hazel eyes shining brightly, he has an air about him that is slightly different than what you would usually see among the common folk.

“Hello sir, I hope you don’t mind if I join you here.”

Giving the older boy an exasperated look while sighing, the former knight simply responds while taking a bite of warm bread, “It’s fine Zane, and for the twentieth time just call me Jeralt. We’re both mercenaries, I’m not your superior.”

“Yes sir, about that, well I have something that I would like to propose. I couldn’t help but find myself deeply impressed over these last few days, whether it be your personal strength, your skill at commanding and leading a group of men, or the intelligence that I’ve come to see while talking to you. I believe that you are just the man that I’ve been looking for, I know who you are.”

Slowly eating, Jeralt can't help but tense up as he hears the words of the young man before him, specifically focusing on the last few spoken. “And who might that be?” he asks in a serious voice.

Zane flashes a bright smile, showing off his pearly teeth, “You’re the captain.”

Grabbing the hilt of his blade the former knight prepares to make a run for it but pauses as he hears the next words. 

“The perfect person to become the captain of a new mercenary band we can put together!”

Taken aback, Jeralt gapes at the redhead in front of him before asking in a confused voice, “…You want me to create a new mercenary group with you?”

Zane’s eyes seem to sparkle as he gets all excited, “Yes, I believe that you are the perfect person to do this with! Although we’ve only just met, I’ve observed exceptional qualities from you, the qualities of a leader. So, yes, I would like to request that we do so, and with you at the head!”

Jeralt examines him, looking for any signs of this being a joke or anything that seems off but only finds an excited demeanor no matter how deeply he looks.

Beginning to chuckle, the chuckle soon turns into a loud and hearty laugh. Wiping away some tears from his eyes, Jeralt replies to Zane, “Sure, screw it. Why not?” 

Hearing his response, Zane’s smile gets even wider as the two of them share a laugh.

After calming down Jeralt and Zane begin to hash out the details of their plan. “It sounds nice, but I don’t have the kind of funds we would need to create and maintain an armed group of me-”

Zane cuts in, “Ahh don’t worry about the starting funds, I happen to have accumulated some measure of wealth over my travels that we can use.”

Hearing his words, Jeralt gives the young man an in-depth look. His eyes glimmer at his inner thoughts before responding, “Great, sorry to impose but that’s what we’ll use then, however, did you have any ideas for recruiting? It can’t just be the two of us.”

“Yes, a few of the men we finished this last job with are trustworthy enough. I know you have misgivings about them, but I assure you it was only the one troublemaker that you need worry yourself with.”

Jeralt nods, “If you say so, I suppose I’ll trust your judgment for now and examine them later.”

“Wonderful, the last thing we have to discuss would be the most important,” Zane says as his whole demeanor suddenly becomes more serious. 

The father responds in kind, seeing his new subordinate’s attitude, “What would that be?”

The ginger-haired mercenary pauses for a moment, causing tension to spark in the air, before opening his mouth to speak. The words that come out and the bouncy way he says them make Jeralt’s eyebrows twitch with annoyance and surprise.

“The name of our group.”

Shaking his head while letting out a sigh the new mercenary leader takes a long sip from his mug. “I’m no good with naming things, I’ll just leave that to you.”

“Come now Captain, don’t be like that! This is an exciting and important task that will decide the entire fate of our career going forward!”

Zane’s eyes burn with passion as he stands and slams his fists on the table, “This name will be our calling card, what everyone will hear and brand us as, what children will think off when they recall our image. This is of grave importance, and I implore you to reconsider!”

Shocked by the sudden passion, Jeralt notices people starting to murmur and look in their direction so he quickly motions for Zane to sit down with a slightly flustered expression on his face. “Fine, fine just quiet down will you.”

For a moment, he thinks before glancing at the ginger across from him, “Can’t we just call it Jeralt’s mercenaries?”

Although he knew naming the group after himself wouldn’t be the best idea considering he was on the run from the church, he figured they probably wouldn’t ever hear of his future mercenary band anyhow. Also, it was only a name, he didn’t think it was a big deal.

Zane didn’t seem to think the same way.

Furrowing his brows, the young man looks at his new captain as if exasperated. 

“I can’t believe that’s your first suggestion. Listen, people are likely to refer to us as that anyways. What we’re deciding on now is the true name of our group. So no, we will not outright call ourselves Jeralt’s Mercenaries. Please put some actual thought into this Captain.”

The flaxen-haired man just grunts in response while chewing his food. “All right, all right, give me a minute.”

Zane adopts a happy smile as he watches his new leader develop a thoughtful expression and lower his head to look at his son.

Gazing at his peaceful sleeping face, Jeralt dives into his thoughts and memories. He recalls the recent events - the birth, his wife’s death, his escape, and he goes even further back. Eventually, he stops at a particular memory.

Sitri and himself, resting on a quiet and secluded hill outside the monastery he had found, her head laying on his shoulder.

Together they watched the sun peek over the land in the distance. He remembers how he could only stare in awe as the rays of morning shined down upon her, giving her an ethereal radiance. She seemed to be as beautiful as the fabled goddess above, he had thought in that moment.

It was then that he had gathered the courage and determination to propose to her, and her smile that followed took his breath away. That morning forever tied them together, in more ways than one, and it was a memory that he would never forget.

Adopting a gentle smile, the flax-haired man once again vowed to raise their child to the best of his ability, ‘I’ll do my best Sitri, you’ll be proud of what our son becomes, just watch.’

Looking up at Zane, Jeralt speaks in a determined voice, “New Dawn. That’s what we’ll be called. The New Dawn Mercenaries.”

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