Chapter 26 - A Place in the Household

By midsummer, the estate had become a familiar part of Arien’s life. It was not exactly home, but lessons with Velyn filled most days, Will dragged him through the training course whenever possible, and Arien had become far too accustomed to eating well every day.
The routine had become comfortable enough that Arien sometimes caught himself forgetting it was temporary.
That afternoon, he lay on the grass beside the training field, watching Will leap from one wooden pillar to the next while trying to decide whether his headache came from Velyn’s lessons, mana practice, or the simple exhaustion of being five years old.
“Arien, may I have a moment?”
Sir Samwell’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He had no idea how he hadn’t heard the knight approach. Sir Samwell, Kreft, and, surprisingly, even Velyn seemed capable of appearing beside him without warning, no matter how hard he tried to stay aware of his surroundings. Damn Skills…
“Of course, my lord,” he said, getting to his feet and studying the knight’s face. As usual, it revealed no obvious emotion, but over the months he had learned to tell, more or less, whether the nobleman was in a good mood or a bad one. Today, sir Samwell seemed to be in a good mood.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, boy. Velyn tells me you’ve been learning quickly.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“And Will has been praising you as well. Apparently, it was your idea that the two of you speak only High Arinthian to each other, and thanks to that he’s progressing even faster than Syl. I’ve also noticed that he’s been training more since he met you.”
“Will inspires me far more than I inspire him. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as he does, my lord” Arien replied.
He no longer bothered mangling his words around Sir Samwell. Not nearly as often, at least. The knight had seen too much, guessed too much, and listened too carefully for the act to be worth the effort. Besides, sounding like a half-wit in front of the man who might decide his future seemed counterproductive.
“Yeah… Honestly, I don’t even know where he got that from. He’ll definitely surpass me.” The knight spoke with unmistakable pride as he watched his son clear the Pale, a row of twenty-six wooden pillars standing six feet high and spaced several feet apart. Will jumped from one to the next without slowing.
Arien had long since lost count of how many times he had misjudged a leap and crashed to the ground.
“But back to you. Velyn won’t stay here forever,” he said. “When she leaves, your lessons will change. Have you thought about what you want to do then?”
Arien had been thinking about it ever since Velyn mentioned two weeks earlier that she would soon have to return to the capital. He could already read and write well enough to continue learning on his own, but her lessons ranged wildly from subject to subject, sometimes as if Velyn herself could not stand focusing on one thing for too long. Arien did not mind. His knowledge was chaotic, but for the first time he was beginning to understand how the world beyond Three Meadows actually worked.
Unfortunately, the more he learned, the clearer it became that he could not do everything alone. The Academy, the Guilds, the army, and the temple could all offer things he needed, but accepting their help would come with obligations.
“To be honest, my lord, I’m not sure. From what Lady Velyn has said, life outside the village seems rather complicated.”
“Complicated is an understatement,” the knight laughed. “When I joined the army, I thought I understood who I served and why. A few years in the capital cured me of that. Everyone wants something, and half the time you only learn what it was after you’ve already given it to them. I couldn’t trust anyone there.
“Not even the King?”
“Kings don’t love their guards, boy. They use them. Sometimes well, sometimes badly, but in the end you’re still there to serve their purpose.”
“So what would you advise me, my lord?”
“Stay in the village, marry a beautiful girl, and live in peace,” the nobleman chuckled. “But I know very well that, like my own children, you won’t listen to that advice.”
He paused, watching Will for a moment before looking back at Arien. “Which brings me to why I wanted to speak with you. If you wished, I could take you into my service formally. Nothing grand yet. You’re still too young for that. But you would continue learning here. You would train properly. And when Will eventually leaves for the capital, you could go with him as part of my household.”
Arien looked at the nobleman in surprise. It was a generous offer: formal service meant lodging, food, a salary, and access to proper training. He had already gotten a taste of the last part by joining Will on the Training Field almost every day, though it still felt closer to play than serious instruction. The meals afterward were an equally powerful incentive. Between those meals and the better food at home, he was no longer constantly hungry, and he was getting stronger by the week. His increasingly short trousers suggested he had finally begun to grow as well.
“My lord, I am honored by your proposal, but may I have a few days to think about it?”
“Of course. There’s no rush. There’s one more thing I came to ask you about. As you probably know, Will will be taking part in his first fighting tournament next week. I wanted to ask whether you’d like to come with us to Ribenne for a few days. It would mean a great deal to him.”
“Oh, Will did mention the tournament,” Arien replied, trying to hide a smile. “I’d be happy to come and cheer him on.”
“Excellent. We’ll pick you up in three days, early in the morning. Just make sure to tell your mother today.”
The knight nodded, cast one last glance at his son as he finished the course, and then headed back toward the estate.
Will had not just mentioned the tournament. It had been almost the only thing he talked about for weeks. The competition was held every two years and drew people from nearby villages, towns, and military garrisons. Children fought first, then teenagers, followed by the adult matches that attracted the largest crowds. Will had even convinced Kreft and his father to let him skip part of his lessons for extra training.

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In Will’s mind, the tournament seemed only slightly less important than the gods.
After Samwell left, Arien lay back in the grass and watched lazy clouds drift overhead while he considered the offer. Formal service would provide proper training, food, protection, and eventually a road to the capital. The offer was tempting, especially now that Arien could feel himself approaching the limits of what he could accomplish alone. Even his magic had begun to slow, with new levels taking increasingly more effort despite his larger mana pool and faster recovery.
Strangely, Unshakable Mind had become his fastest-growing Skill instead, largely thanks to Velyn.
About two weeks after the lessons began, Velyn realized he was pretending to struggle with arithmetic. Instead of confronting him, she began testing him, and at first Arien did not even notice.
Her questions seemed harmless, and at first Arien noticed nothing unusual. He simply found himself trying a little harder to impress her with every answer. He only realized something was wrong when he used a formula Velyn had not taught them yet.
Fortunately, Unshakable Mind had reacted before he revealed too much. Its protection was not perfect, but through Mana Sense Arien could sometimes see thin threads of pink mana slipping past whatever resistance the Skill provided. From that moment on, he stayed on guard during every lesson, following Velyn’s teaching while constantly watching his own thoughts for anything that did not feel quite right. The effort often left him with migraines, but it also kept feeding experience into the Skill.

Name: Arien Race: Human Profession: Child Traits: Child, Emissary of ▉ Lvl: 9 Experience: 620/1000 Stamina: 100/100 Mana: 310/310
Endurance: 10 (9+1) Agility: 10 (9+1) Strength: 10 (9+1) Perception: 23 (21+1+1) Intellect: 31 (29+1+1) Wisdom: 14 (13+1) Vitality: 25 (21+1+1+2)
Free points: 0
Skills 5/6:
Mana Sense (uncommon): lvl 18 (+1) Mana Manipulation (rare): lvl 15 (+1) Lightning Aspect (rare): lvl 9 (+2) Fire Aspect (uncommon): lvl 7 (+3) Unshakable Mind (rare): lvl 9 (+4)
Available for assignment:
Foreign Language Learning (common): lvl 6 (+2) Water Aspect (uncommon): lvl1 Domestic Animal Husbandry (common): lvl 3 Danger Sense (uncommon): lvl 6 Wind Aspect (uncommon): lvl 1 Writing (uncommon): lvl 2 (NEW) Reading (common): lvl 3 (NEW) Acrobatics (common): lvl 7 (NEW)

A familiar voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“So, did you talk to Dad?” Will asked, out of breath after finishing the course.
“Yes. We talked.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Arien couldn’t resist teasing him. Mentally, he had long since stopped thinking of Will as the older of the two. If anything, the boy had begun to feel like the younger brother Arien had never had in his previous life.
“The tournament! Are you coming with us?!”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?!” Will stared at him.
Arien finally burst out laughing.
“Of course I’m going. I couldn’t miss the chance to watch you get beaten up by bigger boys.”
“Kreft says it’s not size that matters, but technique!” Will declared proudly, looking confused as Arien laughed even harder.
“I wonder where Kreft heard that one… Never mind.”
“Maybe if you watch the fights, you’ll feel like training more,” Will said hopefully. “My dad took me two years ago. It was amazing.”
Arien sighed inwardly. Will kept trying to drag him into swordsmanship, unable to understand why he saw so little appeal in it. Kreft had even let Arien join a few training sessions during moments of weakness, but those had only confirmed that the path of the blade was not for him.
More than the Skill slots or the weight of the weapon, fear held him back. Every movement became an attempt to avoid pain or injury. He held back against training dummies because he was afraid of hurting his hand, and during sparring he flinched before blows even reached him. Will insisted it was normal and could be trained away. The skeptical looks Kreft sometimes gave him suggested otherwise.
His pride suffered a little, but at least he had magic. Admittedly, in a real fight he could currently produce a flame about the size of his thumb and hope his attacker died laughing.
“Maybe so, Will. But tell me this instead: how many swords would a unit of five cavalry squadrons need?”
“Hey! Don’t change the subject! You know I don’t have time for math!”
“Think about it. I’m doing another lap.”
He jogged off, chuckling under his breath.
Will hated math.
He sprinted onto the course, letting practiced movements carry him through the first obstacles. Samwell’s offer was tempting, but Arien was increasingly certain he would refuse.
The training and protection were valuable, but joining Samwell’s household now would commit him before he understood what other options existed. Arien wanted to know more before choosing.
But how was he supposed to explain that to Sir Samwell? The knight had done nothing but help him, which made refusing the offer feel uncomfortably close to ingratitude.
Refusing still felt ungrateful, even if Arien knew it was probably the right decision.