Yamada was escorted back to the Blessed, with his bloodied hand wrapped in his Kāṣāya, following behind Gwyneth.

The sun had fallen behind the Citadel’s walls, and the moon had taken its place. Mages in crimson cloaks, created the magic circle of fire; fiery lines that criss-crossed, forming the silhouette of a, crimson rose.  

They walked through the streets lighting the lanterns, illuminating the citadel. He returned to the Blessed, with the same nurse greeting him.

“Blessed one, could you please heal this boy?” Gwyneth asked. She gave Yamada an anxious look, before speaking. “He refused treatment before, and stormed off, not before yelling at me.”

Yamada looked away with a guilty expression. Gwyneth grabbed him by the nape of his neck. He shrivelled in, feeling her cold metal fingers dig into his neck like hawk talons. She brought his face close to hers, lifting him into the air, like a misbehaving cat.

“Did you yell at a Blessed?” She growled, staring through his soul.

“Ma...maybe?” He said avoiding her gaze.

She shook him like a ragged sack. “Okay yes, I did!” He said wincing in her grip.

She lowered him to the ground, and forced him into a deep bow.

“I apologise for the act of my squire. He is new and an idiot. Please forgive him.” She said giving a shallow bow.

The Blessed woman let out a nervous chuckle.

“It’s quite alright Grand Knight Gwyneth, I forgive him. Please leave him with us.” Gwyneth nodded, and she released Yamada.

“Listen very closely. From today and until the day you die. You represent me. I do not care if you are my squire. If you disobey me, I’ll kill you myself. Am I clear?” She snarled.

Yamada nodded quickly, filled with fear and eyes bulging.

“Good. I will ready your garments, for tomorrow. Until then, rest.” She ordered. Gwyneth made her way back to the keep, with the citizens paying their respects to her. An inky dragonfly zipped in front of her, and turned into a message in the air.

‘Your presence is requested at the Keep immediately.’ The message then shifted. ‘Also when is the wed-‘ Gwyneth angrily swatted away the ink, marching towards the keep with a scowl.

She entered into the Keep court room, with Yssac and the four other Grand Knights, standing around idly. They all wore their bulky silver armour with emerald capes, each one with a different weapon it. Yssac scoffed at her presence, covering his fractured breast plate, by folding his arms.

“Why were we summoned?” Gwyneth asked.

Encara entered into the room, eating a fatty chicken leg. “You’re finally all here, we can begin.” He said wiping his mouth.

“As you all know, 20 years ago, the Tundra prison began to melt and fracture. The other Grand Mages and I have searched for the culprits, to no avail. So we’re now switching our tactics to much more proactive approach.”

“What did you have in mind?” Gwyneth asked. 

“After two months, each of you will pick your best squire, and we will pick our best mages.  From there we will pair them up, and send them out, to track the culprits down. The other nations will be notified, that they are simply peace keeping emissaries.” Encara said taking a bite out of the leg.

“Why not send the knights and mages, guarding the first ring instead? Our squires are not strong enough to go out alone, and your mages in training are no better.” Yssac said.

“Cin believes, sending our main army would start a panic with our citizens, and look like an act of war. This will be a trial run, if they can’t handle it, they are free to return, and they’ll be replaced. For now train your squires hard and well, we will do the same.” Encara said leaving.

“Which one of our squires will be getting that worthless bastard of yours?” Vexgar scoffed, with a deep voice.

He was a hulking figure that towered over everyone, with the facial structure of a poor sculpture.

“I don’t know, but I know he won’t be paired, with your worthless squire.” Encara said, smirking at him. Vexgar pulled a black poleaxe from his cape, which stood taller than the rest of them.

Soel strolled into the room, standing between the two of them. “Now, now, we’re on the same side. Put your weapon away Vexgar, I am tired of fixing this Keep, every day.” She said waiting for him to put away his weapon.

“Two months is not a lot of time, why the rush all of a sudden?” Lyn asked. She was a little bit shorter than Gwyneth, but had her elegance and beauty. She had messy long locks of rose coloured hair that matched her peach complexion. 

“A Draken octopus attacked Yamata. Drakens are now appearing at the furthest reaches of Jux, and we cannot be everywhere at once, to save those who cannot fend them off.” Encara said.

“Will we be giving them any resources?” Axilas asked, stroking his chin. He was the definition of nobility and royalty. He struck a powerful figure, even in his armour, with a perfectly groomed goatee and hair, of Pearl River grey.

“100 gold pieces to share and whatever they can carry. Should they wish for a mount, they will find it themselves.” Encara said.

“Hmm, that is enough to last them a few weeks, if they are wise about it.” Axilas said.

“How will we scatter them? There are parts of Jux, which scares even me.” Fervias asked. He was the shortest man in the room, but taller than Urkse. The sides of his head were shaved clean, and his long hair was braided down the middle. He had the face of a warrior, with the scars to prove it. And piercing blue eyes that made the sky seem pale in comparison.

“We’ll be sending the pairs to each major kingdom. It will be a random draw.” Encara said.

Gwyneth walked away. “Where are you going Gwyneth? We aren’t done here.”  Soel called out.

“I have two months to get my squire ready. I have work to do.” She said walking out of the keep. The other Grand Knights followed her lead, with Vexgar and Encara sharing a glare at each other.

Gwyneth made her way to the armourer Abaddon, in the dead of night. He was hunched over an anvil, hammering away at the steel sword. Each strike echoed through the ghostly and eerie empty street.

“Abaddon, do you still have any spare training armour?” She asked.

He pointed to the corner of his workshop, towards a set of matte black suit of bulky plate armour. He continued to hammer away, and paid her no heed.

She drew her lips to a line, looking at the armour anxiously. She leaned her head into the workshop and Abaddon stopped his hammering.

“That’s the only one I have. If you wish to find something lighter, wait until the other armourers open up.” He said in a low mumble, starting to hammer away.

Gwyneth let out a sigh. “He’ll be here to pick it up tomorrow morning.”  Gwyneth said walking away.

“It is customary for the Grand Knights, to bring their squires, their training armour to them.” Abaddon said. “Hmmf.” Gwyneth made an irritated pout, snapping back to Abaddon’s sweaty back.

 She bent down, grasping the black vambraces. Each layer of metal in the vambrace was the size of a journal, but each weighed the same as ten stones. Gywneth strained trying to lift the piece up, her face going red like a ripe tomato.

The vambrace was lifted higher than a small tree sprout. Her fingers strained as she felt the heavy steel biting into her gauntlets. Gwyneth released the vambrace, and fell onto her back.

It sunk through the stone floor of Abaddon’s workshop, as if it were swallowed by the Maelstrom, letting out a loud ring.

“Son of a cankerous whore!” Gwyneth yelled, rising to her feet.

“If you can’t carry it, don’t make so much noise.” Abaddon said annoyed continuing to hammer away.

“Why did you even make this armour?” She said removing her armour, and carefully placing it down. Gwyneth wore cheap clothing, underneath her magnificent armour.

“I didn’t make it. It was originally Vexgar’s, before he...grew, and he wanted it destroyed, after he received his new armour. However I felt it cruel to destroy another master smith’s work.”

Gwyneth struggled to slot her hands and feet into the armour, with each piece feeling like strapping a small man to her limbs. She was covered from gauntlet to pauldron, and sabaton to cuisse. She slowly marched, cracking the ground with each step with loud metallic ring echoing out.

“You forgot some pieces.” Abaddon said, quenching the sword in oil.

“I will get them later!” She yelled back, struggling to walk.

Abaddon chuckled to himself, grabbing another ingot of steel out of his burning furnace, and began to hammer away.

“Stupid, Vexgar. How did he even move in this before he grew?” She angrily muttered to herself, trudging along.

Jacara strolled through the streets, with two beautiful women under his arms, who wore immodest silk dresses. They gently caressed his back and chest.

“So you slew five Drakens, and they still wouldn’t let you become a Grand Mage?” One of the girls asked. Jacara sighed giving them a glum smile. “Sadly, no.” The other woman let out a gasp rubbing his chest. “That is so unfair!” She pouted.

The loud sound of thumping and metal rang out, with heavy laboured grunts. They clung onto Jacara tightly.

“What is that sound? Is something turning into a Draken.” One of them said terrified. He chuckled and confidently stepped forward, reaching to the small pouch on the back of his belt.

“Don’t worry fair maidens, I’ll handle this.” He turned the corner, seeing Gwyneth drenched in sweat, carry the armour down, with laboured breathing.

“Stupid, Yamada. Stupid, Vexgar. Stupid, armour.” She angrily muttered.

Jacara sauntered next to her, with a smug smile. “Would you like some help?”

“No.” She said coldly, continuing to march down the slope. Jacara pulled a tarot card from his back pouch. It had a detailed picture of a single black and grey feather.

“Feather.” He said slapping the card onto Gywneth’s back. She grunted, craning her head to Jacara, with a pronounced pursing of her lips.

The weight of her body halved, and the strain on her muscles eased. “See doesn’t that feel better?” Jacara asked. She rolled her eyes and marched effortlessly and fleetness. He sprinted ahead of Gwyneth, stopping her.

“Isn’t it customary for a Knight to thank those, who help them?” He asked with an arrogant smile.

“The ‘gratitude’ you’re seeking from me, is never going to happen. Now go away.” She said sternly, continuing to march forward.

The girls peeked around the corner, seeing the sweaty backside of Gwyneth as she continued to march.

“How boorish.” One of the girls said. Jacara went wide eyed, signalling to the girls to stop. “How disgusting, she’s not even wearing the whole suit.” The other girl said snickering.

“Grand Mage Jacara, stop helping this digusting woman.” The woman said.

Jacara took a step back away from Gwyneth with his hands in the air. She craned her neck back with a twisted smile. Her smile pierced their souls, and filled them with nothing but dread and horror.

They quickly bowed their heads doing a curtsey. “Grand Knight Gwyneth! I am so sor-“

“You’re only apologising to me, because you know who I am. I detest creatures, who think their parent’s wealth, status or power, makes them superior in some way. Go home.” Gwyneth ordered, without looking at them.

The two girls had their jaws slack, and their brows furrowed. “This is why everyone calls you Misery Incarnate!” The woman said, sticking her tongue out. “Yeah! It’s why you’ll never land a man either!” Jacara spaced himself even further, keeping his head down.

“I guess if I was as ugly and stupid as you two were, I would consider getting a cock inside of me an accomplishment, regardless of who it came from.” Gwyneth said with a smirk.

The two of gasped, and gawked at her angrily. “Aren’t you going to do something?” They asked waiting for Jacara to respond.

“Uh, well...you see...” He said nervously scratching the back of his head.

“Master of None here isn’t able to do anything.” Gwyneth scoffed. Jacara scowled, clenching his fists. The weight of the armour returned to normal, and Gwyneth’s knees buckled on her next step.

“That is not my title!” He yelled reaching for his back pouch.

“Get him Grand Mage Jacara!” The women yelled.

Gwyneth broke out in a deep chuckle, continuing to move along. “Jacara, a Grand Mage? It is official now. You two are the dumbest women in the Citadel.”  

“Apologise to these lovely angels, Gwyneth.” Jacara said pulling out another card.

“That’s Grand Knight to you, Master of None.” She growled.

Jacara pulled the card out with his right arm. In a blink, Gwyneth had closed the gap between them, with a single step. His face was encased by the giant black gauntlet, with his draw arm in her clutches.

Jacara froze, trying to gasp for air, through the tight grip. The girls were still processing the new information, when she turned to them, a cold gaze.

“I’m sorry, you angels will have to see, what a demon looks like.” She said with a grin, as she snapped Jacara’s wrist like a twig.

His screams were muffled by her grip, as he flailed in her grip, before being slammed into the ground. The two women fled as fast as they could. She scoffed, shaking her head, and slung Jacara’s limp body over her shoulder.

Yamada was escorted into the Blessed’s room, which was normally a room big enough, to simply accommodate a small writing table, and single bed. A portly man sat at the table, his white robes clung to his belly, waiting for Yamada.

“Please sit down, and remove those rags from your hand.” He said, monotonously.

Yamada pulled the rags away, peeling away the scabs and reopening the wounds. The Blessed observed his reactions.

He pulled his stool next to Yamada, clapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. The Blessed, summoned the golden cross of Blessing magic from his hands, and branded Yamada on the chest.

Yamada watched the blood stopped, and his wound closed, in complete awe. As the wounds on his knuckles closed, the bruising on his nose and gut disappeared, and the Blessed let out a tired sigh. The golden cross disappeared on his chest, and the Blessed stood up breathing heavily.

“That...that, was amazing!” Yamada said excitedly, clenching his fist. “You've seen Blessing magic on Yamata before haven't you?” He asked wiping his brow.

“We do, but it’s never that quick. That would have taken the Blessed, on Yamata days to do.” Yamada said rubbing his nose.

“Means, your Blessed is either weak or unskilled.”

A loud metal clang echoed through the hallways, followed by a savage groan, caught Yamada and the Blessed’s attention.

The two of them with other Blesseds’ made their way out, to the front of the building, to investigate the thunderous metal clanging.

Jacara was unconscious on his back, with his arm shaped like a forking branch, and small bubbles at the corner of his mouth.

Gwyneth sat at the door steps, drenched in sweat, straining to remove each piece of armour.

“Grand Knight Gwyneth?” Yamada asked perplexed at the matte black armour, buried through the stone floor.

She was fighting for her next breath, taking a small respite, as she shed a piece off. She turned back to Yamada, with her hair pulled to the right, and forehead chaffed.

“You will wear this armour, for the duration of your training. We will meet at dawn, at the most southern point of the third ring, at the crack of dawn. Now if you will excuse me Blesseds, I have the last piece to bring down, and you have another patient.” She said, stretching her muscles out.

She jumped to her feet, as if she was lighter than a feather. Her shirt flew up with the momentum, revealing her toned body and perfect skin, and Yamada quickly winced away.

She smirked at his reaction, as he covered his eyes and turned around. “Yeah, I’ll see you at dawn.” He said rapidly walking away, covering his flushed face.

Jacara was dragged inside, as Gwyneth walked back to Abaddon’s workshop. Encara warped beside her, draping his magenta cloak over her.

“A Grand Knight should always be dressed in armour, in case of an attack.” He said with a sly smile.

“I was carrying Vexgar’s old armour to my new squire.” She growled, shrugging off his cloak.

The cloak was frozen in the air, and Encara slipped back into it, quickly jogging up to her. “Oooof, that old clunky Deiridium armour, Vexgar wore before he grew?”

She nodded, flicking her arm sweat into his face. The droplets hit an invisible barrier, near his face and were repelled away. “I’m surprised you could even lift that thing. I mean what the dwarves of Dweorg say about it again?” He asked looking to sky for an answer.

“To wield Deiridium, is to wield strength comparable to a god.” Gwyneth said.