Lichtenauer (1)

In the north of the empire lie many noble territories. Foremost among them is Lichtenauer, seated upon the border — a land known more widely as a renowned house of swordsmanship than by the name of its family.

A great tragedy struck it not long ago. But a new master has arrived, and the time has come to move forward once more.

"Lady Sien. We have arrived."

The carriage door opened. Brender and Rascal held out their hands and supported Sien, whose wounds made every movement ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a trial.

"Thank you. Both of you."

Sien offered her gratitude with a smile, then lifted her gaze to the castle of Lichtenauer.

It's been so long... since I've seen it.

Nothing had changed. Lichtenauer was still beautiful, still strong, still upright — exactly as it had lived on in her memory.

On any other day, her splendid father and her steadfast older brother would have been there to greet her, smiling brightly. Welcome home. We missed you so much. Come here — let us hold you. But their faces were nowhere to be found.

"The funeral... must have already been held."

"Yes. I am sorry to say so, but circumstances were dire, and—"

"I understand. You don't need to explain."

The Great War had changed a great many things across the continent. Among them was the period of mourning granted to the dead. In this hell, grief was something that had to be set aside at once. One had no choice but to be more faithful to the living than to those who had already gone. It was bitter. It was heartrending. And there was nothing to be done about it.

Sien forced a smile onto her face and started walking.

This was a family that had lost both its head and its heir. Of Lichtenauer's direct bloodline, she alone remained. Even if she was a presence the house would not welcome, she would have to bear everything Lichtenauer was from this moment on.

"Lady Sien. It would be best if you received treatment first."

"No. There is something more important."

"More important, my lady?"

"The knight who fell in this battle, and those who were wounded fighting. They must be honored, compensated, and consoled. That is something we cannot pass over."

"That is important, of course. But treatment first would—"

Even as Brender tried to dissuade her, Sien shook her head. The duty she had named was hers, and she met it with a will that would not be moved.

"Commander."

Rascal stayed Brender before he could press her further. Sien's resolve was already iron, and besides — consolation for the fallen and compensation for the wounded were the duties of the head of the house. Sien would be the one to lead Lichtenauer from this day forward. If she showed the people of the territory that she meant to honor their own, she might yet still the unrest left by the recent tragedy, and offer them a first glimpse of their new lord at her best.

"...Understood. Then I shall have everything prepared at once."

"Lady Sien."

"Yes, Sir Rascal. Please, speak."

"That young man as well... will you have him attend?"

Rascal indicated the place where Adel had just stepped down from the carriage. It was not that he meant to ignore the youth's merit, or to diminish it. But to invite a man of unknown identity to a gathering of such importance was to invite strange talk among the others, as naturally as breathing.

"That's a given."

Sien's will was unyielding.

"Have him attend. As a guest of Lichtenauer."

Lichtenauer was still Lichtenauer.

Beautiful, magnificent, and noble — yet neither excessive nor lavish. It did not go out of its way to appear modest, but neither had it forgotten that it was a martial house. That was this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place. That was Lichtenauer.

The door creaked softly as Sien eased it open.

This ought to have been a room that never knew rest: the study of the head of the house. People coming and going at all hours, its master seated at the desk, buried in work. That was the scene that should have greeted her. Instead, a low, settled silence filled every corner.

Sien stepped slowly inside and took in the desk. Unfinished reports and documents of every kind still lay scattered across it. Off to one side sat a single picture frame, and within it, a portrait of a family that looked perfectly at peace. A man and a woman, and two children nestled in their arms. Their brightly smiling faces looked so happy it hurt to see.

The frame clicked softly as Sien picked it up. She stared down at it, unseeing — and then, slowly, very slowly, her legs gave way and she sank into the chair.

Tears struck the glass, drop by drop.

Her father. Her older brother. And so many of the vassals she had known. Every one of them had fought to the last and fallen with honor. Their sacrifice had saved a great many lives — and they themselves had crossed a river from which there was no return.

Sien drew a breath, the frame clenched in her hands as if it might shatter. She bit down on her lip, set her jaw, and rose from the chair.

The place Father tried to protect. The people my brother tried to protect. I'll protect them now. So please... rest in peace. Later — later, I'll work so that both of you will be proud of me.

She must not grow weak. She had to become strong. And just as her father had done, just as her brother had done — even if the seat proved unbearably hard, unbearably heavy — she would have to sustain this great house and lead it, sometimes with gentleness, and sometimes with steel.

A knock sounded beyond the study door. The voice of the head lady-in-waiting slipped through after it.

"Lady Sien. They say everything is ready."

"...Yes. I understand. I'll be right out. Thank you."

Sien brushed the tears away and set the frame back upon the desk.

The woman named Sien was gone from this world. There was only the new head of House Lichtenauer.

"Salute!"

At the cry, every knight present paid their respects. Between their ranks, the funeral cortege moved on — bearing the knight who had given his life in the recent battle. To someone he had been a loyal sword. To someone else, a comrade they could trust. One precious life had set like this, and was gone.

In the place reserved for the head of the house who sent the fallen on their way, Sien stood. She herself was wounded, yet she remained as composed as she could, and saw off the one who had gone before them with every courtesy she possessed.

"Send someone separately to the bereaved. Courteously. Even if they cannot accept it, you are never to treat them with disrespect. You understand? Carefully. And then more carefully still."

"It shall be done."

A proper funeral would be held in due course. What followed now was for those who had been wounded in the battle — to honor their labor, and to offer them comfort.

"I owe all of you a great debt."

Sien stepped forward before the knights. Each of them was a loyal soul of Lichtenauer. It was no exaggeration to say that Lichtenauer existed because they did.

"Because of you, I am alive. Because of you, those who were traveling that road kept their lives. It was a heroic turn, worthy of the name of knight. I thank you once more."

The knights opened their mouths at once to protest. They had only done what was expected of them, they said — and would do it a thousand times, ten thousand times over. A round of drinks would be more than enough, they added, and laughter bloomed among them.

"And... there is one more to whom I must offer my thanks."

At Sien's words the knights' laughter stopped. As one, they turned their heads toward a single place.

"Adel. Would you come closer?"

The man whose name had been called was fidgeting where he stood. To be commended in front of so many people — and not for anything else, but for killing a few Demonic Beasts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— was a thing he could not begin to understand.

"What are you doing?"

In the end Brender, unable to watch any longer, shoved Adel forward by the back. Propelled into motion, Adel found himself standing before Sien.

"It is true that everyone here fought with all they had, and that everyone here earned their merit. Even so, Adel — your prowess was truly remarkable. If not for you... this gathering would likely never have taken place."

The knights nodded as one. Every man among them had fought those Demonic Beasts. Every man among them had watched how Adel fought. There was not a shred of exaggeration in Sien's words. Just as she had said, had Adel not been there, this honorable assembly would have been a vast funeral instead.

"Lichtenauer never forgets a kindness. Thanks are only what you are owed — and if there is anything you desire, name it. We will see it done, as far as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it is within our power."

"...I am grateful for your words. But I want for nothing."

A murmur of admiration rose from the knights around them. Adel was not even a knight. He was a mere guest. A man with no reason to be loyal to Lichtenauer had saved them all. He would have been well within his rights to demand a just reward — and to say he needed nothing at all could only be taken as the highest virtue.

Is this really something worthy of a reward?

Adel, for his part, truly thought it was nothing. What was so remarkable about killing Demonic Beasts? To him it was the most natural thing in the world. He had only killed, and killed, and killed again the things that should not exist. Thanks? A reward? Was that something he was supposed to receive?

You... really are a strange one.

And yet that very manner of his seemed to read as something else entirely — not only to the knights, but even to Sien.

"Very well, Adel. I will respect your wishes."

"Thank you, Lady Sien."

"That said, you are still a guest of Lichtenauer. Stay as you please — and if you find you need something, even then, tell me. You must. You understand, don't you? Adel?"

At Sien's words, Adel found himself nodding before he knew it. The way she was looking at him was, just a little, more than he knew what to do with.