Ceresia
On his last night in Bellandia, Lansius told his family about his decision to join young Lord Arte as his retinue. His family was mostly ecstatic. However, Mother Arryn felt the need to warn him, "Rember, we’re just village folk, and you still have a lot to learn about interacting with nobles."
“It’s not that scary, Mother. Besides, expectations are low for country folks like us,” Marc reassured. He then added, “Based on your abilities, you’ll probably work in the supply camp. The worst that could happen is joining a scouting party to count enemy soldiers, but that’s unlikely since you’d need to know how to ride a horse.”
Lansius nodded, hoping Marc’s assessnt was accurate.
“You know what Connor told ?” Marc asked.
“The butcher? No, why?”
“Don’t overthink it. Learn as you go if you have to. Opportunities are rare,” Marc said, smirking proudly as he reiterated Connor’s advice when Marc was selected for training.
Mother Arryn crossed her arms and muttered, “Well, the worst that can happen is they’ll send you ho.”
Marc laughed and patted Lansius’ shoulder. “I’ll lend you my rucksack and shoulder bag. Now, let’s prepare things for the journey.”
Lansius didn’t tell them that accepting the offer would spare Marc from being levied.
...
Early in the morning after breakfast, horses around the camp were saddled. n refilled their waterskins, and clothes and other gear were packed. Everyone, including a number of camp followers, was ready to march. Mules and horse carts laden with supplies were also lined up.
anwhile, inside Arryn’s household.
“Wear this for the winter,” she instructed as she unloaded items from a wooden chest.
“Gratitude.” Lansius examined the woolen coat and found it to be in good condition despite its age.
“Lans, take this for good luck,” said Marc.
Lansius looked at a small iron dallion resembling a coin with intricate patterns. “Where did you get this?”
“It belonged to Father.”
Lansius furrowed his brows. “Are you sure you want to give this?”
“Yep,” Marc said, pulling out his own dallion. “I have a better one, see?”
Lansius grinned.
“Have you packed your mittens and thick gloves?” Arryn interjected.
“Yes, I’ve packed those already.”
“Extra foot wraps for the road?” she inquired.
“Already gave him two,” Marc answered.
She nodded. “That should suffice.”
Lansius’ rucksack was now filled. Next was the shoulder bag, which he packed with packages of dried at, hard biscuits, a small sack of flour, so raisins, and carrots.
“Here’s the waterskin. It’s old but still sturdy and not leaky,” Marc said as he handed over what was essentially his own gear to Lansius.
“Gratitude, Marc. Let pay you for this.”
“No need, you’ve already shared enough. I can buy another one later when I need it,” said Marc.
After they finished packing, Tanya ca in and hugged him. “I was about to make you a hood, Lans, but it’s not finished yet. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything.” Her voice was tinged with regret.
Lifting her, he reassured her, “Don’t worry about it. Take care of Mother and Marc for . I’ll co ho when I can.”
“Hush, you’re going to work as a retinue,” Arryn corrected him. “Obey your master and don’t ask to co ho too soon; wait until you’ve done sothing worthy. Don’t worry about us.”
Smiling at her wise advice, Lansius felt grateful. Given the hurried nature of his departure, he had little ti to dwell on his emotions. His farewell might have been more emotional and potentially awkward if he had more ti.
After saying his goodbyes and sharing warm hugs with everyone, Lansius, with a heavy heart, stepped out the door. His family waved as Lansius shouldered his rucksack and began to walk toward the camp.
The sun was still far on the east and the wind was cool, Bellandia looked amazing around ti like this.
As Lansius had expected, a woman in black gambeson waited not far from his house. Stefi approached Lansius and asked, “All set?”
Lansius tapped at his shoulder bag. “Hopefully, it’s enough.”
“I’ll share if you’re missing sothing,” Stefi reassured him. She then led him to a section of the camp where her horse was kept. It was already saddled and ready to go; a young servant stood by, waiting.
“Gratitude. Here’s a coin.”
Upon being paid, the servant darted into the crowd that was preparing to leave, apparently in search of his own master.
“What do you think of Horsie?” Stefi asked.
“She looks gentle, but I don’t know anything about horses,” he admitted.
Stefi chuckled. “Co on, take the reins, and let’s go.”
Lansius wasn’t sure. “I’ve never held horse reins before.”
“Don’t worry, she’s docile. Ti to get acquainted,” Stefi said, smiling.
He gazed at her questioningly. “You’re going to train to ride?”
“There’s no reason not to. Just don’t pull too hard. Guide her gently.”
Lansius did as he was told, and they finally hit the road. It was bustling with a column of people, knights, horse carts, pack mules, and even donkeys, all marching eastward toward their final destination: Riverstead City.
***
Elven Calendar 4422
In an era marked by rising tensions and escalating raids, Viscount Karius, the formidable Lord of Inglesia, committed the ultimate act of aggression. He crossed the Great River and launched a large-scale attack on the jewel of the Arvena province - the city of Riverstead.
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