||Grey Hierghund||
"Here's your gold." Gustav hands me a small leather sack, the inside illuminated with yellow as I opened it to check the contents. I look back at him with a smile as Solomon delivers the sack of beans to the cupboard.
"I've already driven three other bakeries to the ground because of this coffee!" He proudly exclaims, followed by a hearty laugh.
His assistant, Piedmo or something, pokes his head into the kitchen, "Chief, I need the coffee!"
"Preparing a batch right now!" He bellows, jumping from his seat. The crowd outside becomes increasingly louder as they hear his voice. I can hear some thumping violently on the tables and counters. Piedmo hurriedly rushed back to his post, trying to quell the storm building up at the shop's front.
"You should hire more people," I advise him.
He didn't answer while he quickly fumbled in order to light the wood on fire, he places a metal pot filled with water and waited until it boiled.
It was only a couple of minutes, but the silence felt like more than that, all the while an impatient mob was waiting outside the room.
"I'll look into it," Gustav finally replies as the water from the metal pot boils.
I handed Solomon sixty percent of the gold who stored it in a different coin sack. He counted the coins, smiling before opening his mouth, "I'll be damned, it's only been some time, and this man's already ordered another sack."
"He's reselling the other sacks for a higher price, the sly bastard." I grin, pointing my hand at the hearty baker.
"At this rate, half of the kingdom's gonna want to have a taste." Solomon chuckled back, wagging his hand in the air.
"Indeed, well, my friend, I have other matters to attend to." I stand up, prompting Solomon to do the same.
"Safe travels, Ca-...Grey." He corrects himself as we both shook hands with a firm tug before letting go.
"You as well." I bid farewell to Solomon, who quickly turned to Gustav to assist him with the brewing.
I stepped outside of the kitchen to see a mass of people all lined up in front of Piedmo, workers, artisans, and adventurers. They all looked like packs of wolves ready to devour their prey. Piedmo was understandably tense as any more waiting can result in a commotion caused by the already disgruntled patrons.
Walking behind him, I slid a gold coin into his right pocket before tapping him on the shoulder, "Keep working hard, kid. One day, Gustav will see you as a son more than his own."
I slowly made it outside, weaving left to right from the mass of people gathered. Even so, the shop keeps attracting more and more. I hope the guys inside make it through the day. It was at least nine in the morning, the sun was fairly dimmed by the clouds, and the city still looked like it did the last few months.
A red carriage immediately halted in front of me, the coach tugging hard on the ropes around the mana beasts. The door opened soon after, it was Alexander.
"Well, hurry on now." He urged, "I'll inform you about the renegotiation as we go."
"Renegotiate?" I echoed out to Father as I embarked on a carriage. At a moment's notice, the mana beasts galloped through the streets of Etitsin city. I peered through the door's window to see the outside, a strange habit I picked up for some reason. I sat opposite him on the rear seat while he was in the front.
"Yes, House Aurae has placed more interest in where we're going. This is why we're going to renegotiate our terms and manners regarding our business." He further clarified.
"I see, although I am yet to be informed about what you're planning." My head swiveled to meet his eyes as I closed the small blue curtain
Alexander let out a sigh before looking back at me, "I plan on expanding the reach of our business."
I mused at his words, shaking my head before opening my mouth, "What about the pact you signed with the trading guilds."
"Ah, you don't have to worry about them," He waved his hand, "I've brokered a deal with Beathan. Besides, the pact didn't say anything about investing, yes?"
The carriage came to an abrupt halt, causing both of us to jolt from our seats. The mana beasts growled while a horse neighed, and a short commotion followed afterward. After a few moments, the carriage began moving again.
"I'm very sorry for that, good sirs." He apologized, which was followed by a crackling whip.
.
.
.
||3rd Person||
"Alright, Varay, let's see what you got." Aselith challenges Varay as he draws out his sword, the edge tilting towards her, "Remember, give your all."
"It's gonna be a little hard to do that since we're standing near the house," She faces him, lowering her stance and bracing her legs. With her left arm, she held the scabbard tightly, the right hovering on the sword's handle. They locked gazes as she slowly made everything around cold while letting the tension build up.
"Interesting..." He comments, switching his stance to an ox guard. Aselith grips his longsword with both of his hands until his leather gloves creaked.
He expected a direct charge, but she wasn't going to give it to him. Varay flicks her right arm upwards, causing a block of ice to emerge behind him. Immediately, he turned around and, with a single cut, made quick work of the projectile.
'Now!' Varay exclaims to herself, pouncing towards her mentor, leaving a trail of frost from where she once stood.
He turns back to parry the attack, but his disciple has other plans in mind. Instead of a thrust, she reorients her blade, leaving Aselith with an exposed right. Smoothly, she redirects her attack's momentum, aiming to cleave through his ribs.
Aselith widens his eyes in amazement before repositioning himself. His left leg steps forward while his torso snaps to the right, and his arms flicker to drive his blade parallel to his right flank.
PANG!
The swords violently clash, a ring of wind rippling through the air as the metallic shriek floods their ears. The entirety happened in less than two seconds.
"You've certainly caught me off guard!" He applauded with a proud smile, "If that were someone else, they could've died."
She pulls back her sword, swinging it towards his left temple. This time, he was more prepared, blocking her attack before she could even blink. Varay's left hand, which was still gripping her scabbard, let's go with her palm facing him and fires a blunt projectile of ice toward her mentor.
He quickly veers his neck to the side, avoiding the spell aimed at his face at alarming speeds. This gives Varay a small but decisive window of opportunity. She withdraws her longsword and thrusts again, aiming at his chest. Aselith quickly bashes her sword to his right before propelling himself backward.
"Good! Again!" He barked at his disciple, who closed the gap as quickly as he retreated. Their swords clash again, using all of their strength to best the other but both not moving an inch.
"When faced with a situation like this, what must you usually do?" He quizzed.
"Something like this..." She replied with her teeth grit. The ground immediately froze, and the ice latched itself unto Aselith's feet. She spins until her blade is at her back and grabs her sword's handle with her left hand, and with a heave, she slowly moves her mentor's blade, much to his surprise.
Seeing as he can no longer stand his ground, he retreats his arms and soon ducks to dodge Varay's horizontal slash. The ice around his feet thaws as embers of fire dance around his lower limbs. She presses on and bombards him with attacks to not give him breathing room.
She slashes towards his neck, but he slides backward.
She slashes toward his right foot, but he quickly retracts.
She beats her sword like a hammer, but the three attacks are blocked.
"Go forth!" She invoked, causing a dozen icicles to race toward Aselith while their swords continued to scrape with the other's contact.
Aselith yielded ground and retreated to avoid the barrage of spells, the ice only managing to dig itself deep into the ground. Varay relented, a lesson she learned throughout her fight with Bairon in her classes. She chased her mentor, striking her sword like a mallet towards him, which he caught with his sword, his left hand supporting the other side of his weapon.
"Your aggressiveness is commendable. Within a week, you've already improved drastically." He noted, earning a nod from her, "However, with aggression comes balance."
Aselith shoves upwards to create a small opening, just enough for him to kick her in the sternum, sending her backward. Varay and Aselith dart toward the other, sending sparks flying as their swords make contact. Varay knew that the duel needed to end soon. Otherwise, it would become a battle of attrition. She made the air colder, the ground completely covered in ice. However, it was no use. Her master's fire thawed the frost around him quickly.
She withdrew her ground and raised her left leg, just in time to avoid an attack aimed at her foot. Both prepared to deal a final blow, with Varay swiveling around to generate momentum while Aselith posed to create a powerful thrust.
Varay senses her mentor's attack and immediately ducks the moment her back is turned to him. Still, she pressed, and with all her might, she heaved her longsword toward his neck.
Slit
However, Varay felt shallow but painful cuts on her left waist and thigh just as her blade lightly touched his skin. She slumped down on the ground, kneeling with her right knee.
"What did I tell you about spinning around?" He reminded, his voice calm and gentle. The air got warmer as Varay clutched her left.
"It will only offer your opponent an opening." She answered in between slow, heavy breaths.
"There is still much to learn. However, I commend your growth. You made me use fire magic to thaw the ground. In my eyes, you won the duel. Training dismissed." He said, helping her up.
Varay heaves herself upwards, resting her weight on his shoulders. Using frost powers, she cools herself. Cierra came to their aid, assisting Varay as she crashed on a chair on the porch, exhausted from the day's extensive training. Marshall smirks, impressed by the display of skill by her sister.
"Shall I call for a physician?" Cierra asks as Varay winces while trying to move to a more comfortable sitting position.
"No need...I'm fine." She replies, motioning a stop with her right palm. She calmly breathed, concentrating on relaxing until she could feel her heart slow its pulse down. Moments later, the pain was more bearable than before.
"You've grown much since last year." He expressed as he stood idly ever since early in the morning.
"No shit, I've been training." She shot back, deadpanning him.
"I can see why Father has placed so much trust in you." He turns to compliment him.
"I am humbled by your words, Sir Marshall. However, I must note that so is the case because of Varay herself."
As the four calmly rested on the backyard's porch, other affairs were being made on the other side of the estate. The Hierghunds have disembarked from their carriage, arriving at the front of the manor where they were met with a line of guardsmen. Soon after, the large wooden doors were heaved open, and a familiar figure greets the two.
Reoite stretches his arms in full delight before gesturing his guests to come inside, "Come, we have much to discuss."
The two made their way inside, and immediately they sensed the change in the atmosphere since the last time they visited the manor. Grey, in particular, caught the scent of the candles that were lit on their posts. But he bears no mind.
||Grey Hierghund||
Our feet echoed out hollow steps as we trod on the second floor's hallway. To my right were a column of windows peering into the manor's courtyard while a line of paintings mounted the wall on the left. It was as elegant as downstairs, not because of the grand scale, but because of the attention to detail. The wooden boards for the walls had intricate engravings of vineyards and roses, as well as snowflakes with distinct patterns. The carpet was as white as snow, the ends laced with golden trimmings, while the ceiling had crystal chandeliers, evenly spaced from one another.
"It is quite elegant, isn't it?" Lord Reoite marveled while wearing a solemn smile, "my grandfather commissioned a refurbishment of this section of the manor."
"It certainly is a display of expert craftsmanship and artisan talent." Alexander added.
We made it to the end of the hallway, and a single door stood in the middle while the corridor parted ways to the left and right, creating a t-junction. The door itself was white, while its accents were red. The frame surrounding the entrance was marbled, and above the door was a golden plate, embelished with the words 'Tá tú, ag do ghníomh'.
"You are, by your action." Father translated as he studied the words inscribed.
Not bad, old man.
"You know Gaeilge?" Lord Reoite asked, amused as he turned his head towards Father.
"Not that much, milord. Just the bare minimum." He sheepishly replied.
The lord stopped in front of the door, which I had just noticed, had no handle. We both halted our steps just as he did, I looked at Father as he did to me, with a curious gaze.
The Lord cocked his right hand backward before plunging it deep.
Then, everything around us was laminated with ice. The air was heavier, colder , and my fingers went numb due to the sudden drop of temperature. The atmosphere glows in a tinge of blue, all the while a white light emanates from the Lord, envolping his body in radiance as if it were his second skin.
Soon after, the ice crumbled bit by bit its crumbling, resonating in my ears. As the frost slowly shed away like scales of a reptile, an apparent change of setting dawned before us. For some unexplainable reason, we weren't in the hallways anymore. We were... inside an office, his office.
"I always love doing that," He chuckled before sitting down in a chair behind a thick mahogany brown desk, "Well then, shall we discuss the deal?"
"Y-yes, milord." Father responded, initially fumbling due to the awe he experienced.