This new story follows Echalera, a 22-year-old village girl of Battanian-Aserai heritage who shares an uncanny resemblance to a long missing noblewoman, Haldaea Chromasios, heir to Garontor Castle. Similar in ways to Joan of Arc, a dream of Echalera’s is to be the one who saves the Empire from destruction during its ongoing Civil War which sparked after the poisoning of its last emperor, Arenicos Pethros. Saving the Empire and its subsequent value has fallen down to Echalera through her mother, Carinila who preaches about the importance of structure and order, her father Phelenos, who wharfs on with war stories about his time in the Legions, and most importantly Echalera’s older brother Mattis, who has staked his life in the Auxiliaries to win himself citizenship in the hopes to use it to help the family. Mattis is currently serving under Garios Comnos, leading autocratic-consul of the Western Empire. Echalera has followed their examples, placing the Empire at the pinnacle of her worldview. Through the Empire, she wishes most of all to see her family brought out of poverty too, and into a better life within the upper classes of imperial society. Not only for the sake of her mother and her father — but also for the sake of her two younger siblings, Mylos and Alea. To that end Echalera has developed a personality that is wholly antithetically to imperial notions of foreigners. She has tried hard to appear hard-working but not humorless, kind but law-abiding, innovative but traditional, and lastly, honest to a fault. Whenever people confuse Echalera with the missing noblewoman, Haldaea, she is quick to correct them with astute politeness. However, after her mother Carinila falls ill and becomes bed-ridden, and her father Phelenos resorts to poaching boar near Lageta to make ends meet; which is a crime punishable by death, Echalera’s personal philosophy is forced to bend. When two traders visit Garontor Village looking to buy some horses for a caravan train working under a start-up brewery out of Ortysia Echalera offers to show them around in her sick mother’s place. On the tour she bombards them with questions about the goings-on of Ortysia, fief of Apys Varros, Haldaea’s original regent before her disappearance. The traders become more and more suspicious. In their conversation, they begin edging around this idea that Echalera is acting like a noble, like an upper-class women. Echalera doesn’t say she’s one, but doesn’t deny it either like she typically would as that may lose sales and could harm her family’s image with the villagers. Soon one trader asks Echalera if she’d like to work in the enterprising brewery, as they travel all over and have many connections. Specifically with the Northern Empire, the Senate’s slice of Calradia. Echalera, believing this to be her chance, enthusiastically agrees. Wonderful, they say. (…) Then she asks how they have such connections and its revealed. Salion, the man she’s spoken with so far is a former Imperial Legionary of the Last Legion. Skioren on the other hand though, is not from the Empire, but the far-North; from the Shield Brothers working out of Sturgia. Echalera, upon learning one of the traders is a foreigner, abruptly ends the tour. Removing herself in hopes to avoid any further association with so-called barbarians in fear of alienation by her peers who, under Garios’ regime, have a developed a stringent dogma against outsiders. It took nearly a decade for Carinila, a native-Aserai women, to get the village to accept her and her family. Further affiliation with Skioren, in Echalera’s mind, could be disastrous for their standing so she leaves. But it’s too late. This ejection convinces that Echalera is actually Haldaea Chromasios, missing noblewomen, who is incognito hiding out under Headman Gavalon’s protection. Gavalon being the former captain of Calytos Chromasios, Haldaea’s late father and respected Archon of the Calradian Empire. That same day, in a place coined the Gavys Valley named after a distant tribe who inhabited the land before the Republics wiped them out, Phelenos gets caught poaching boar. There he’s discovered by a Finger; a low-tier member of an infamous mafia known as the Hidden Hand. He grabs Phelenos and raises the alarm. Before Phelenos was found however, he watched and listened as a mixed scouting party of Imperial Auxiliaries and Hand members search the area. Strange, Phelenos thought. What are back-alley thugs doing walking through the woods with Imperial soldiers? He listens in as they discuss the news, a giant collective of looters, bandits, highwaymen, and poachers have met and combined in the West after. Apparently, one half came from the North, some fled here from the South, and still others gathered here in the West. It was around here, near Lageta supposedly, that this horde congregated and decided to work together, combing their forces calling themselves and being led by three men. A man named Radagos, another named Galter, and a final man Bloodbark. “Bloodbark?” Phelenos thinks, “What kind of name is that?” This is when Phelenos is snuck up on and spotted. The thugs tries to grab Phelenos, believing him to be one of the bandits, the older man shoves him but when the Finger attempts to stab him, Phelenos slam the man on his back. Pulling off an expert tripping maneuver, dragging the man’s arm and his body over his back, and then slashing his throat clean. Phelenos boards his horse and rides off, heading towards Garontor — so the Hidden Hand, who have deep ties with house Varros, decide to go directly there to pay the settlement a visit. Phelenos beats them there and goes into hiding. Upon arrival, the Hand give the village an ultimatum. Either give Phelenos up or fall to the mercy of Apys Varros, a debauched and truly ruthless noble. It is tough for the villagers to decide, so they hold a vote. It’s close and Gavalon ends up becoming the deciding factor; a tie breaker. It seems he may very well give Phelenos up after all. Despite both being Battanian and having had served in the Legions, Gavalon is a man of honor. He has always kept his word and done every above board via the Imperial law. Whereas Phelenos has broken the law, and his word. Long ago, Phelenos ran off from his duties in the Legions to be with Carinila, shirking his duties and committing a serious offense against the Empire. Gavalon has never wasted a chance to rub that in Phelenos’ face. The two men have long been enemies due to their drastically different world-views. And now, Gavalon has his chance to see justice served to Phelenos for his crimes. What’s more Phelenos has now gone as far as stealing Garontor property; Apys’ property. By taking that horse, poaching, and also killing a man, Phelenos has brought hell upon the village. Killing Phelenos would be justified in the eyes of the law. But… Carinila has spent years laboring as Garontor’s village doctor. Which for quite a long while went unrecognized as she was subjected to anti-Asuri, anti-Battani prejudice. Still, she cured the sick, delivered newborns, nursed the elderly back to health; unprompted. Not to mention her work as a stable-hand as well her daughter Echalera too, helping Hyradia, Gavalon’s sister. Would permitting a corrupt and cruel nobleman and his personal retinue of highwaymen kill a father be just? Gavalon concedes. He breaks his vow. After Calytos died, Gavalon took an oath. Many years ago, Gavalon entrusted the an urgent letter in the care of an Asuri-boy. The lord of Garontor Castle, Calytos Chromasios, was marching towards a trap and needing to be informed of it; to retreat pullback from disaster. Gavalon would have delivered the letter himself if there weren’t mysterious fires cropping up in the nearby villages of Lysia and Garontor. The boy left Garontor Castle as Gavalon rode out towards Garontor Village. The boy didn’t get far when a stranger, mounted on a finely groomed horse, approached him. He demanded the letter, the boy gave in. Some time later, when Gavalon returned to Garontor Castle he got no word about Calytos’ whereabout, so the Captain sent scouts out to gather intel and report back. One returned and informed Gavalon that one of the Sultan’s armies was marching down the Strait of Lysia. “Impossible,” Gavalon thought “Calytos would have stopped them, or at the very least been back by now. First the fires, now this?” Without wasting time, Calytos rallied his men to prepare, to bear arms, to raise a militia, and gather men from the surrounding villages. In the mean time, Gavalon went to Ortysia to ask for assistance for house Varros, to raise funds, to gather building material, and, most important of all, secure massive amounts of food supplies for a potential siege of Garontor Castle lasting months. When visiting the inn though, Gavalon found the same Aserai-boy from before; the messenger. “What are you doing here, lad!? I gave you an order, to deliver that missive to the Archon!” The boy explains that a short-man in a toga had intimidated him into handing over the letter. That either he would be tossed into the Bay of Ortysia or the that parchment would, the boy shrunk from the threat and obeyed. After handing it over, the short-man told the boy to forget the whole thing; to buy himself a nice bowl of stew at the inn of Ortysia. Later that day, the Aserai besieged Garontor Castle, and with them they brought and showed off the lifeless body of Archon Calytos. In the mind of Captain Gavalon, that day told him all he needed to know. That in the end, it seemed that peoples from the outer-kingdoms could not be trusted. That they must all consider life of another being to be less than that of a bowl of stew. Gavalon, along with Garios, Apys, and several noble in the Western Empire, began a program of education and cultural preservation and separation. That all people, who were not Imperial or Vlandian, are uncivilized, dishonorable, irredeemable, and worst of all savages; that they are all barbarians. Unworthy of trust, any faith, or mercy. After that day, Gavalon vowed to never speak to, or help a foreigner ever again. Today however, years later, after upholding his oath for so very long, he finally breaks his word. Gavalon points the family in the direction of Pharon Leonipardes, a distant cousin of Gavalon who is cautious but honorable. If they simply tell him Captain Gavalon sent them Pharon should help them find a new place to settle. He also tells them to notify Pharon of the truth, that Phelenos killed a man working under Comnos; undermining him. Pharon should greatly appreciate this due to his personal affinities to the General. Phelenos, horrified the Headman was going to vote against his survival, thanks the Captain profusely. Gavalon gives the family some of his personal horses and off they go. Leading the pack, Phelenos rides for the Southern Empire; for Poros. The town of Poros is governed by house Leonipardes, Archon Pharon’s family. The town itself also is under the direct command of Rhagaea Pethros, widowed empress of Arenicos and mother of their impulsive heiress-daughter, Ira. More than half-way there, the family has to stop at Zeonica to recover from traveling. Here they find Mattis, who’s in town after his Auxiliary party was nearly annihilated following a skirmish against a horde of bandits led by a man named Radagos. Mattis is shocked at the news. He says he has been in town for a while now, and General Garios seems busy at the Battani-Imperial border, so maybe he could escort them safely over to the Southern-border. Echalera says he should join them, start a new life in the South. But Mattis refuses. He can’t. He is close to securing a Legionary position under the command of Archon, Crotor Dionicos. Taking after Headman Gavalon, Mattis places extremely high value on the power of the word. Mattis suggests going straight to Garios and explaining the whole incident away… That Phelenos killed the man in self-defense, that his wife is provably in poor health which explains the poaching, and that his father’s veteran-status should provide weight to these statements. That this vet’s family needs assistance, land, security — the same promises Garios ran his consul-ship on. Surely, if there’s any clemency to be had, it’d be with the *soldier’s soldier*, General Garios. But Phelenos shoots down the proposition — killing is killing, and poaching is a serious enough crime in of itself, and years ago, when Phelenos met Carinila, he deserted the legions — never serving the full 25 years, as is demanded of anyone seeking full imperial citizen-ship. Phelenos is in deep water. Even the most skilled orator would have trouble saving him from execution. Fleeing is the only option available he says. “For now,” Mattis says “you are safe here. The Hidden Hand cannot enter into any cities. They are wanted criminals. We can rest easy for now.” The next day, at dawn, the family rides for the Southern-border. They make it to Onica Village, a mile or two from Poros, which is visible lying at the foot of the Ilataric Hills. With exception of hammering, smoke, and the occasional yell — Poros seems dead, and lifeless; unusually quiet for a town. Zeonica by contrast is a constant hustle and bustle, even at night. From Onica Village, looking back across the Temea Valley, Zeonica is some four miles away — and yet, even from this distance, the city can be heard. Strange. Echalera wanders off to the inn of Onica Village called the “Happy Boar” she asks the waitress why Poros is silent. In response the women points to the Ilataric Hills, “Do you see them?” the young women asks, pointing out of a window. “No. See who?” | “The men in woods, silly. Hiding. Waiting… My father always says, ‘If you want to know what’s going on, but don’t know who or what to ask, just read the room.’ (…) I see looters and pilferers waiting in them hills. You can tell because when the wind blows, their as still as rocks. Waiting for the fighting to start. Apparently, the Empress, Rhagaea, is going to launch an assault soon. Right as the peace treaty becomes null and void, she will invade, or so they say.” Echalera perks up, “An invasion? But we need to cross that border though.” The waitress goes back to cleaning, “Sorry girl, but the only thing you can do now is still here, or head back to town. As soon as the fighting ends those looters are gonna come down from them hills and, like crows or wolves, they’ll start picking through the dead or wounded, finishing them off and/or going through their belongings.” Echalera exhales. The waitress continues, “Staying here’s not so bad. Nor working here, if you can stomach the whistling and old men blowing you kisses, you’ll be fine.” Echalera leaves and finds her dad and Mattis. Phelenos says Carinila isn’t looking too good, she’s getting worse. Echalera takes a look at her and sees she really is unwell, and should certainly not be traveling in her condition. Alea blames herself, citing that after her and her friends went out in the night to pretend to be Palaic priestess’ and commune with the Otherworld, Carinila went out in a downpour to find her. If should had only stayed home, this wouldn’t have happened, and mom wouldn’t be dying. Mattis comforts her. Echalera tells the girl that mom is not dying, just sick. Phelenos, feeling mortified at his inability to help Carinila, changes the subject. So he asks about Poros and Echalera informs them of the border situation. They decide to try and pass the border anyways. They near the town when some guards exit from within and halt the party. One is a Sergeant by the name of Atys. Holding them at crossbow point, they apologize but demand to see some papers before the family can continue; anything official will do. Echalera tries explaining that they need to cross as they’re being chased by the Hidden Hand. Sergeant Atys questions why that would be the case? Phelenos explains that he killed a man in self-defense and it turned out to be a Hidden Hand member; they needed to flee their home and the West entire. The Sergeant tells Phelenos, that unless they have official documents, granting passage through this point, they will not be able to pass. Atys asks if they, as Plebeians; peasants tied to their land, their lord, and their Headman, even have permission to be out here at the border? Mattis explains they do have permission from their Headman, Gavalon. Baranor, seeing Mattis dressed like a soldier, asks who he serves under? Comnos, Mattis says, specifically on his garrison of Onica Castle stationed as an auxiliary. Atys warns him that if they had known that earlier, he would have had Mattis shot down long before making it this far — and that only now he holds his hand because of the two children present. Atys asks a question of his own, asking if Garios put them up to this. Some cheap trick to try and sneak into Poros and cause mayhem? Echalera denies that’s why they’re here. But still, the Sergeant denies them access to the South, stating again — unless they have official business, they cannot pass. Echalera tells him that Gavalon sent them here, that Pharon is his cousin and if Atys would just let them speak to hi— Atys cut her off and outright refuses to let them speak with Archon Pharon, demanding to know how they, as Plebeians, think they have the right to request a meeting with a Patrician. Echalera begs the Sergeant to at least look at their mother. Atys bluntly and irritably declines. She continues, stating that Carinila is very sick, that she needs immediate attention; a place to rest. Atys refuses for a final time, citing that he has been given strict order from the Empress herself, that nobody is allowed to pass this border, unless they have official papers, or unless they are nobles from the West looking to parley with the Southern Archons. Upon hearing this, Echalera, considering carefully the seriousness of what she is about to say, decides she has no other option left. Echalera demands to see Pharon Leonipardes, claiming that she is Haldaea Chromasios, last member of her house, and has an urgent matter to discuss with the Archon. The whole family takes an alarmed look at her. Atys asks for some proof of her noble standing. Echalera sternly declines, “Sergeant, you cannot prohibit a Patrician and Noble from exercising his or her right to an audience with their fellows. I, Haldaea, a devout citizen of the Empire and honorable daughter of a respected Senator, demand to speak with another of my kind now. That I need to speak directly with Archon, Pharon Leonipardes about an urgent matter!” Atys furrows his brow for a moment — but then subsides. Telling her its her funeral. Atys tells them that they are detained in that spot until this matter can be cleared up by an Archon. Atys enters the city. Mattis grabs Echalera by the arm, “what in Gehenna was that Lera? You’re going to get us whipped.” Echalera apologizes, that she really have no other option — it was either this or they are captured by the Hand. Sometime passes before an unfamiliar Archon exits the city, ahead of Sergeant Atys. It is not Pharon but some other Archon. Atys addresses the family, “I bring you another of your rank, girl, Archon Baranor, of house Julios.” The Archon speaks, “Supposedly, you are Haldaea?” Baranor continues, “prove it. If you really are who you say you are, I mean you certainly share her likeness, how can I be certain? Do you have any evidence. An papers, an heirloom, anything evidence at all will do. No? How about you answer me this: What was the last thing you said to me?” Echalera tries to think, but has no answer. Baranor continues, “It was the day we cremated you father. During the service, you stared a hole through me — all throughout the ceremonies you never looked away. When it finally concluded, and your father’s remains were scattered to the wind, you marched straight to me and asked… what? You… | I mean *she*, asked me why I was still alive? Not maliciously, not rhetorically, she genuinely she did not understand how it was possible. First, I failed to protect the Emperor from assassination. Then, I failed to protect Calytos, her father, from an ambush. The love of my life, told me I was a disgrace to the memories of those we loved. That all the time we spent together, at her father’s court; where we first met, at the tourneys which I thought might bring a smile to her face, to the ponds where I poorly played the flute; just the two of us, all those times, to her in that moment, were a colossal mistake. And then… she was gone too. Vanished without a trace. If you truly were her, you would have nothing to say to me.” (…) Baranor turns around and leaves for the gate. “Now go — go back to your demagogue and tell him that he shall not fool me — that trying to sneak one man, two children, a sick woman, a girl and a simple auxiliary to do his dirty work is pitiful, and his weakest attempt at a distraction I have ever seen. (…) Oh, and one more thing. You impostor, are fortunate *I* came down here and not Archon, Oros. He was itching to do so, but I pleaded with our Empress and was chosen for this. She did so because I am merciful, and he is not. Legally he would have the standing to submit you to an excruciating death for impersonating Imperial nobility. (…) Remember that.” Baranor crosses the gate entry into town, leaving. It’s now night and the family reside at the Happy Boar inn. Phelenos revives his original plans of running to the Uchalion Plateau; to Battania. But Echalera swears she will never go there. She can’t be around those savages. That she’d rather die — then a swirl of yelling outside breaks up the arguing, hooves outside the door send the entire inn into alert. The door opens and its the the “traders” from Garontor Village that enter. Salion and Skioren. The former quickly spots Echalera and Skioren points out the family, residents of the inn burst into a cacophony of yelling and scurrying out. In the turmoil Echalera quickly snatches something off the table. Following the direction Skioren is pointing are the eyes of a rough looking man, his name is Monyr. Behind him is a large man, very tall with sanguine hair. Bloodbark they call him. Following him are two other men, Radagos and Galter their called. After them are swarms of looters, bandits, and pillagers flooding inside the building. After the inn evacuates all of its patrons, in walks the Hidden Hand. The family is being rushed by a wave of ravens and wolves, only the walls and tables keep them from being swallowed. Phelenos and Mattis stand, and draw their swords against the nearly two-hundred thugs. Needless to say, their odds are looking bad. Phelenos is tense but steady, taking deep and sharp breaths to soothe his verves, while Mattis huffing heavy, his eyes are darting this way and that, he’s shaking uncontrollably. “I recognizes some of these guys,” he says sweating. “They’re the same ones from before; from the ambush near Onica Castle. And they’re here. Again.” Phelenos softy grips Mattis’ shoulder, as to not startle him into swinging. And gently nudges him back towards the corner of the inn. Swords aloft, they gradually retreat. Carinila, who can hardly stand, needs Echalera to carry her under her arm. Both Alea and Mylos huddle close, under their mother and sister. As a block, both Mattis and Phelenos cover both sides of the room. Phelenos takes the left flank, where the most bandits and mafiosos are. Mattis, the right, where fewer bandits can mass. As the ruffians inch closer, testing the duos reflexes, they begin tossing tables and chairs out of the way, so at to make space for their fellows. After that, they hold, just waiting for a signal. Phelenos adjusts his footing, still controlling his breathing and thoughts, but he can’t help himself from checking on Mattis every few seconds. The lad is wavering. Going back and forth between fearful and angry. Phelenos tells Mattis he needs to calm himself, best as he can at least. “It is no good for a soldier to be too defensive or to be overly-aggressive. In this situation; a confined space, one must prioritize stabbing and overhead motions. Sweeps will only get him killed. Most soldiers do not die of old age because they forget this. Do not forget it. Phelenos lectures Mattis to focus on his breathing and to use the wall as a guide; like a shield, like another soldier standing at his side — blocking any and all attacks from his left, so that he need only worry about what’s in front of him.” Mattis says he knows that, but seeing them here now, again, so soon; he is not ready for it. Phelenos asks Mattis if he is scared or brave. Mattis states that he is only brave, he just needs to get his feet together. Phelenos rebuffs this, saying “only a fool believes themself brave when facing down someone who cannot make them fear. Like when a fully grown adult abuses a small child, or when a soldier shakes down a beggar. One can only be brave when they respect and fear their foe, but stand their ground fight back anyways.” Right as it seems the raiders are about to pounce, Monyr steps forward, walking towards the cornered family, disregarding their arms. “These are true words, brother. Take heed of them friend and you may yet live. (…) So — who amongst you,” Monyr says unflinching, standing inches from Mattis’ blade, “is Echalera?” Just then, Echalera emerges wielding only a simple hand-forged table knife against a fully armed and armored Monyr. They lock gazes. Echalera, not looking away, asks what they want. Monyr doesn’t, he just bends down to eye level with her. Echalera doesn’t shrink back but is unnerved by the calmative in Monyr’s expression, stoic. Monyr looks to Echalera’s eyes, her nose, the bones of her face, most importantly, her demeanor. “Yet another dead-end,” Monyr states pulling back. “She’s not Haldaea,” he says turning and leaving for the door. Bloodbark says, laughing with a peculiar Asuri-accent, “brother, you just can’t seem to catch a break can you? Ha’ ha’ ha’!” One of the Hand, their leader it appears, what they are going do with the family? Monyr tells the Dorion that they should let them go. But Vendelia, another leader, protests this, “that man,” she says pointing to Phelenos “killed one of ours, and Varros gave us the freedom to punish them as we see fit. Surely you do not expect us to forgive such a crime. If you want our help Monyr, with whatever plans you have, then you will need to help us first. ‘Equivalent exchange,’ it is the only rule of the Underworld. I am sure Skioren and Salion filled you in on that, did they not?” (…) Monyr thinks. “Look, we did not come all this way to leave this blemish on us unanswered. ‘Justice always needs a messenger.’” Monyr takes one look back at family, the mother; ill, and the two small children; visibly shaken — the rest gravely outnumbered. Monyr looks to Dorion and Vendelia, “do whatever is you do with prisoners. Consult with Radagos though, I am sure he already an idea.” Monyr then leaves, trailed by Bloodbark. Radagos addresses the Hidden Hand, “Well, I do have one prevailing idea. Which I have used for years now, and it has not failed to reward me. Have either of you lived on a cattle ranch?” Neither react. “No? Well I did! Grew up sheering sheep, hard work it was, but worth it. Because instead of killing them, like we might have, my family only sheered ours. While mutton sold fairly well, the wool’s value was far more consistent and unchanging. Wool can be useful in all-times of the year, from couches to jackets, and their is no spoilage to worry about.” Dorion asks Radagos, “What are you getting at, highwaymen? Are you suggesting we skin them?” Vendelia, others retch and convulse at the idea. Radagos continues, “Heavens no! I am say—” “He is saying the same shite he always says.” Interrupts Galter, “That a captive is always better than a corpse. *Psht.* Tell that to my men, who died following your dim advice. Goin through with your plan was short-sighted before and it is still so now. Those Imperials horsemen; the Bucellarii and Cataphracts, never would have fallen on us if we didn’t allow that captive to be ransomed back home.” | “That only happened, Galter, because you stupidly let him see our camp once it was in sight. Said the blindfold made leading him around a pain in the ass. And that letting him see the camp would only show him just how ‘invulnerable’ and ‘audacious’… I swear, that attack could never have happened if you only followed my orders as written out for you.” Galter snaps, “Written? No one in the gory Hells can read here, Radagos — no one but you!” Radagos brushes aside the remark, “Look here, ‘Hidden Ones’. The Republics of Geroia pay lots of silver for strong workers to operate their galleys and water ways in the Baetoric and Geroian Isles, these three alone (pointing to Mattis, Echalera and Phelenos) would offer us so much silver, that we could easily split it four ways and still make an easy profit. And, later, should we encounter them again, we can sell them back. That is, sheering the sheep instead of killing them. What say you?” Dorion and Vendelia look to each other, and after a moment, they both nod. “Fine.” Vendelia says. “We will sell them off to Geroia. However, if the adults fight back we will have no choice but to kill them. Except the kids, of course. The kids are absolutely off limits and no harm should come to them. You hear me, men? Do not harm the kids. Child murderers will never be accepted in the ranks of the Hand, nor even in depths of the Underworld.” Vendelia turns back to the family. Dorion commands that they surrender now, that they need to put down their arms and give up peacefully — or they will pay the consequences. A million thoughts rush through Phelenos’ mind, he starts to break his composure. “There’s too many,” he thinks, his sword arm shaking. “What do I do?” Phelenos recalls that families sent to the galleys in Geroia are broken up and they usually never find each other again — lost in the world. And during their enslavement they are worked to mental and physical exhaustion, daily. And it is only after years of this strenuous labor that they can afford to purchase their freedom from what little proceeds they receive back from their masters. That is, if they are even allowed to, not all masters let their slaves buy their freedom back. There’s a chance that Carinila, the kids, *hells*, all of the family, can die working in those horrid conditions, or never get out at all. However, fighting back will definitely kill them too… “What do I do? I am failing — *again*…” as Phelenos begins to slacken, the thugs in front of him become more confident. One takes a clean swipe at Phelenos, knocking him off balance. Phelenos tries to recover, but has to block a slash from his right, which grazes him. Phelenos is losing focus fast, thinking to himself “How did this happen.” The man then tries to pierce him, but Phelenos barely deflects it. “Why? They are going to die because I always make the wrong choice.” The ruffian winds up a powerful overhead strike. “An opening. I can’t hesitate!” Phelenos goes for a sweeping strike arc from his left, across the man’s stomach but something catches his blade. The wall. The man launches his downward slash. Phelenos thinks to himself one last time, “fighting back was the wrong choice, I’m sorry everyone...” Just then, in that moment, “One can only be brave,” Mattis says knocking the blow aside with his sword, inches from Phelenos skull, “when they are afraid. Be brave father, be brave — all of you.” Phelenos shakes back to the present. “You are right lad! I won’t falter again!” But the Hidden Hand rips away the two kids, Carinila and Phelenos fight free to save them – Carinila and Phelenos wrestle with a bandit to steal the kids back and so one of them draws a dagger and stabs Carinila, mortally wounding the already sickly woman. Phelenos goes into a frenzy, tearing away the mans blade and ramming it into his eye-socket. Pealing back at the forming horde, slashing this way and that, Phelenos fights like a cornered animal. The fight spills outside into the moonlight, and as Phelenos wounds one after another, Mattis and Echalera grab whatever they can find, a pitch fork and a butcher’s cleaver. Together they rush out into the night air. Back at Poros, a black-haired watches the starlit sky, but becomes distracted by the mayhem in Onica Village, not a few miles away — in clear perfect view of the walls. Only a moment passes before she trots down the stairs towards the gate, calling for a band to rally at the gate for a surprise attack. Without hesitation the men arm and ride. Back in Onica Village, Phelenos is fighting ferociously. To keep the whole circle from closing in on him, he has to react without concern of safely, lunging out and swiping in an endless rotation, rippling the waves of faces too dimly lit and blurry to become recognizable. In a way, Phelenos feels he’s fighting ghosts. Not a bad description as he fully intends to make them such. Still, he is running out of energy fast and the ring isn’t breaking. Mattis and Echalera urgently try and fail to create a breach in the horde but are constantly repelled. Mattis might be able to break through on his own, but Echalera has never held a weapon in her life, leaving her here now would be just as good as killing her. Mattis is at a impasse and is racking his brain to find a solution. Then, a man named Radagos, a bandit from the hills between Zeonica and Poros, swoops in on a horse and nabs both kids, riding off into the hills with his gang. Seeing this, Phelenos becomes distracted and is speared straight through the back. Phelenos dies and the horde turn towards the only two remaining, saying they can either end up like their mom and dad, or like their siblings. The mob begins swirling around Echalera and Mattis. Back-to-back, neither looks ready to back down, so the Hand gets ready to swamp them. But just their deaths look certain Rhagaea Pethros charges in, smashing the outer rim of the forming circlet. Behind her; dozens of hardened soldiers suited head-to-toe in polished steel. Imperial Cataphract swiftly and efficiently begin cutting down the unarmored thugs. The Hidden Hand breaks and shatters with the men running in various directions. As squads of Rhagaea’s men cleanup the mafia’s remnants the Empress dismounts and addresses the two. Stating she thought all the fighting was her daughter’s doing. That Ira had rushed ahead and was pre-emptively assaulting the castle by starting with it’s villages. Or worse, carousing with them. But now she sees she was wrong. Just a girl and a boy being mobbed by a gang of ruffians. Abhorrent. An abomination to all that the Calradian Empire stands for. She exclaims, “Garios claims himself a representative of the *unrepresented*… and yet, cannot even be bothered to pay attention to his own villages and their plight — while that demagogue sleeps with harlots and married woman — his people are pillaged and looted, by his own hired illegal-mercenaries no less. That’s one more reason that faithless conman needs to be deposed. Mattis, still reeling form the shock and bloodied, is dumbfounded. The Empress of the Southern Empire is right in front of him — his consul’s enemy, his sworn enemy. The Empire’s enemy. The one he vowed to help bring down, has saved his life — charging in with out a fear in the world despite the Empress having no reporting experience. Mattis believed her recklessness to be only a hopeful rumor. Rhagaea disembarks her mount, two others follow her action, Pharon Leonipardes and Oros Mestricaros, vassals of the Empress. She approaches Echalera. “What happened here? Why is the Hand attacking it’s own people? Does the General know?” Pharon Have the Hidden Hand switched sides? (…) Did Varros join the North?” Both Mattis and Echalera are stunned, unable to reply. Oros erupts: “Answer your Empress, girl! You must speak when your betters speak to you.” Pharon interrupts Oros however, citing that they’re clearly in shock. As Mattis debates internally whether to strike Rhagaea down or ask for help Echalera is speechless. Staring at the ground, blank, as if strike by lightning or pierced by an arrow, the pain hasn’t registered yet but consciously aware that it will. Its only a matter of time. Echalera first looks toward the inn, then her lifeless father. She can only make out a two words: “They’re dead...” Rhagaea takes a mental note of Echalera’s gaze, first toward the Battani man and the inn, where a another body lies. She steps closer but is cautioned by stoic looking man. “Wait, my lady.” he says hopping off, hand to sword, “they might be dangerous. They belong to Garios after all. They may attack you.” “It’s alright Baranor,” Rhagaea says, continues forward, “Comnos might not care for his citizens — or have any love for them,” she levels her eyes, kneeling, “but I do.” She examines Echalera more closely. Brown hair, light eyes, defined nose, bronze skin. Interesting. “You are a long way from home. Did he drive you away? That would not surprise me. He was a corrupt senator, bribing others with gifts or brow-beating them to pass bills through the Senate. Apys probably made for a vulgar and cruel regent.” Oros and Pharon perk up. Echalera tries to say something but is in too much despair. Rhagaea continues. “Because of Garios, your father’s will was negated, and so you and your estates were placed under the care of that gnome of a man. Apys always hated your father, Calytos. I suppose he took advantage of you. Pressuring you to marry his sadistic son so house Varros could legally take your property and steal your land. No one would help you. You were alone, surrounded by people who were not your family and only wished to manipulate you to their own ends. In that, you ran away. Hiding out with your father’s most honorable and trusted captain, Gavalon." she says pointing to Phelenos. “I understand you Haldaea — better than most…” “Before I could even walk, as a mere child, I was shipped off with my mother to Darshia. The lands of the Shah-a-Shah; King of Kings. My mother did not survive the trip, died of disease soon after we arrived, and I was stuck alone in a foreign land. My legal father, Hoshtar, was not a cruel man but he expected a lot from me. I was given the highest tutelage and set-up with the most excellent mentors in the world. While I was grateful, I had no particular fondness for him. Except the culture. Unlike the Calradian Empire, the Darshi Empire treat women as, *nearly*, equals. Women own businesses, govern, teach, and can even rule. Instances of this can be found in the Empire but these are the exceptions to the rule, not the rule. I am going to change that. In Darshia, the bond between a father and daughter, between a husband and wife, between men and women, rises to the highest form of justice. Maybe you feel the same way… Haldaea Chromasios.” Oros, Baranor, and Pharon are stunned. Mattis looks to his sister. Echalera meets Rhagaea’s eyes, “If you join me, I will do everything in my power to help you reclaim your home, your inheritance, your rights — to deliver you justice and return all that was lost to you.” Echalera, taken back by this situation, says she needs to think about it. Rhagaea stands, “Come. You can think it over in Poros. There, you will be safe, fed, and you and your servant can recover peacefully. Neither Apys or Garios, nor anybody else in the Western Empire have any way of harming you in the South. Baranor, please bring lady Daea’ and her servant a horse, we shall not have our friends following on foot.” Mattis finally speaks, “What about Mylos and Alea!? Look, our brother and sister were kidnapped by some thieves. They rode off toward Amitatys just before you arrived, we have to go after them.” “Our?” Oros says. Pharon replies, “Well, seeing as how you two are bloodied and we are only a small party, going after some bandits deep into Garios’ land seems a big mistake to me.” Baranor arrives with two steeds. Pharon continues, “I am sorry, but we cannot go after them this instant. Maybe as we march in full force, we can ascertain the whereabouts of the bandits and capture them all. Or if we catch one of them, interrogate them into spilling it. But right now, going after them now could lead to catastrophe and we cannot have that, I apologize.” Oros scratches his head, “No documents mention your defunct house having more than one surviving member. None at all. But you, boy, claim there are two others? Amongst yourself and this girl here? How can that—” | “Now is not the time for this Oros.” Interjects Rhagaea. “Let us leave this village before Onica Castle sallies out. We are in no more shape to fight than these two are.” As Mattis boards his horse, Echalera jumps upon hers. They both sluggishly ride in line — looking back toward Amitatys. As Pharon re-organizes the warband to return to town, Echalera mutters to herself, “I promise, I’ll save you two; whatever it takes. I swear it…” Rhagaea pulls beside her. “Ever been to Poros? Hmm? (…) You will like it. The Ilataric Hills make for an exquisite vista. You’ll see.” As they ride for the town, Phelenos’ words still ring in Echalera’s ears. “The best adventures are always the ones you don’t expect to go on.”