Dwarf of Bronze (ZnT/AU)

Brimir’s Law of Opposition reads as follows; “All other things being equal, a power comprised of opposing elements will be greater than a power comprised of complementary elements.”

The Line Magic of Ice, created by stacking Water and Air, is possible because the two elements flow together harmoniously. When working the Line Magic ‘Sandblast’, by stacking Earth and Air, one would usually have to be a Triangle Mage due to the difficulty of combining only oppositional elements. That difficulty would come out in the strength of the spell; an Oppositional spell will always defeat a Complementary spell of the same class.

It was this Law and the implications thereof that were giving Headmaster Osmond such a headache. Since the time of the Founder the tradition was for those performing a Familiar Summoning Ritual to do so in oppositional pairs. The magic worked against the opposing force and was greatly magnified; calling forth mighty creatures as a result.

His own familiar was no exception, regardless of what it currently looked like. The tiny creature scurried up the side of his heavily-reinforced desk which, nevertheless, creaked a little under the weight of the animal. When he held his hand out to it the ostensible mouse hopped right over and he barely felt the weight; one of the oddities of his beloved Familiar.

“What shall I do, Chuchu?” The tiny creature squeaked at him as he nodded sagely. His secretary placed a stack of papers on his desk while resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the old man’s antics. “Ah, yes, I see… oho, very interesting! Yes, yes, white and plain, mm. Perhaps blue and lacy would be more inspiring…” A flush struck the woman’s face as she glared at her employer. Terrible old lech.

“You ought to be focusing on the schedule for the Springtime Summoning, sir.” She snapped at him before moving out of reach and clasping her legs together. Working in the perverted old loon’s office was always an ordeal. “Since it’s next week, and all.” Ah, yes. Osmond stroked at his long beard thoughtfully.

They were fortunate to have a very balanced class this year. A few outliers could be dealt with using the third-year students who’d been unable to be placed last year; many of them could support two, or even three, oppositional bonds at the same time. However, he was faced with a serious issue.

Louise de La Vallière. Youngest daughter of Karin, the Heavy Wind. The girl was, supposedly, incapable of casting even the simplest magic without destroying things; that, at least, reassured both the Headmaster, and presumably her mother as well, that she belonged in the Academy. A commoner certainly couldn’t even do that much.

Her element, however, was unknown. Many of the teachers had theories about it; most of which claimed the girl was any element but her own. The only report he put much stock in was that of Jean Colbert. His running theory on the girl, assembled mostly in his spare time, was that she was an Air mage. This was due to the lack of fires and burning that accompanied her spells; he likened them to the pressure blasts that could be conjured by more powerful Air spells. Osmond was inclined to agree with him as the logic fit even if something about it just felt off.

In spite of his thoughts on the matter, though, if she failed to perform the Summoning ritual… it was likely her mother would be obligated to recall her and simply marry her off. The student file said she was engaged to the Viscount Wardes of the Griffon Knights. Would he take a Noble wife who couldn’t do magic? It was hard to say.

Best put her with the Gramont boy. If she was Air then it suited her to partner with him; besides which, his particular magic needed a stable hand and a stable sort of soul. As flighty as he was personality-wise his magic was steadfast. Hopefully that would allow both of them to succeed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

It had begun, as things often did around the Zero, with an explosion.

Guiche had rather expected the explosion. He had not expected it would shear through the edge of her circle and into his as well. The entire debacle had proved most vexing! Vallière had made him look like a fool in front of a great many young ladies he either had once been, was or might soon be courting.

The whole day had been going so well, too. Kirche and his dear Montmorency had gone a little earlier and received practically matching familiars; the Germanian girl had called forth a rather large fire salamander while sweet Montmorency had acquired a slick-skinned amphibian of similar stature that she was quite ecstatic over. Especially as one of the other girls he’d been eying had said something uncharitable while poking said familiar and then collapsed into a frothing heap as the curious toxins in her familiar’s skin took hold.

His entire line of thought was abandoned as soon as he saw what had come out of the circle. There was clear evidence of magic at work; that much was plain. He’d managed to distort the ground somehow by creating a shallow crater that stretched over towards Louise’s circle as well. There within…

Guiche was startled. He was incensed. More than that, though, he was simply plain confused. The second reason for his confusion was the fact that there were two figures in the crater; meaning the Zero had successfully called forth a familiar as well. That paled in comparison to the first thing he noticed, however. Rather than a mighty war golem or some mythical stone giant or even some handsome subterranean creature it appeared that he had called forth…

Well, there were two choices before him. The squat, hunchbacked creature with the thick, massively bushy red beard or the dazed looking young man laid out on the ground behind him. Both seemed to be human… or at least he thought the smaller one was.

“Kto, chert voz’mi?” Gah! And the small one spoke! What a brusque creature it was; waving an armoured hand at him and demanding… something, obviously. Perhaps it was a gnome or some such creature? Although it looked a fair ways too large for that.

“Anata wa, shōnen o hanasu nodesu ka?” And again! This time the thing stamped its foot and stepped closer to him. One hand was clutching something underneath its heavy cloak while the other gesticulated furiously. With each motion the many small stone beads woven into its massive beard clacked against each other.

“Weis keiner von euch Void-verlassenen Idioten wie man spricht!” Someone in the crowd gasped loudly at that. No, it was multiple people. One of the words in there was one even Guiche recognized. A tall, busty girl with dark skin, fair and magnificent Kirche, pushed her way through the crowd.

“I recognize that! I mean; Ja, ich speche Germanisch.” The short being had started at the sight of her, and once again when she began to speak. Rather than being put at ease by the sudden break in the communication barrier his eyes narrowed and he grasped at the handle on his belt more firmly. Guiche couldn’t see what kind of weapon it was.

“Germanisch? Habe nie davon gehört. Ich spreche Zwergisch, Meriadan, Stalisinian, Kagati, Nord und West Azekara und zu meiner Schande, Zunali.” Kirche was lost for words at that sudden and undecipherable declaration. She glanced over at Professer Colbert; he was equally concerned but gestured for her to continue.

Amidst the silence and confusion of their peers Kirche attempted to commune further with the strange person who’d come to be standing in the circle. A number of thick and guttural exclamations flew back and forth but at least the thing had ceased to hold such a heavy grip on whatever weapon it was concealing. After some time she nodded absently and turned to look at the Professor and Guiche both.

“He says his name is Kenneth Manson, of… somewhere called ‘Kelicho’. He wants to know where he is, and which idiot called him through…” She blanched somewhat at the choice of words she was now having to repeat. “The Void.” A quiet, startled titter went through the gathered students as Colbert looked at Guiche de Gramont.

Apparently the entity took that as confirmation. He stormed up to the edge of the crater and jabbed Guiche in the chest with one stubby finger; and hard. Which was quite difficult given it was barely over a metre thirty in height.

“Oh~?” Not the novelty of the situation was wearing off and the implications were setting in Kirche leaned over to smile at the young Earth Mage. “It seems that your Familiar isn’t too happy with the arrangement, Guiche de Gramont.” Before he could protest another, almost forgotten, voice rang out.

“Professor Colbert, you must let us try again! This has to be a mistake!” It was the Vallière who spoke up now. She had descended into the crater to examine the other young man. He was quite a sight; his surprisingly nice clothes severely dirtied as he lay there face-down. Even if Guiche’s Familiar, for what else would one summon in this holy ritual, was a squat, misshapen creature it was still better than what was obviously no better than a mere peasant.

“How appropriate! Not only does Louise call forth a commoner as her familiar, but she messes up Guiche’s calling as well. Professor, you might at least let him go again; it’s not his fault he was paired with the Zero.” The laughter stung at Guiche as well for some reason. He looked down once more at the short man… person… thing that had suddenly stopped accosting him.

“Aye, lass. Seems he called me. Are ye sayin’ something ‘bout tha’?” Everyone froze once more. The words were low-toned, filled with a subtle menace, but most definitely Tristainian. Kirche turned to stare at the short being that had just spoken. His eyes seemed to glow with some inner light of fury that made her take a step back.

“Seems ye spake some bastard tongue tha’ be kin o’ Meriadan; an’ ah kin deal wi’that. Also seems that ah were called here along wi’ this boy fer some purpose.” He strolled over to the crater and hoisted up the prone figure over his shoulder with no discernable effort. “If tha’s t’be the case then ah’ll take this’n fer medical care, if’n it please yer Lordships, and then we kin discuss terms of employment like solid, reasonable folks.”

Guiche did not like the sound of that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Several hours had passed and Guiche liked the things he had heard since even less. The bastard thing was going to bleed him dry! That… Kenneth thing had taken the Zero’s commoner to the infirmary along with Professer Colbert and he and the-... ah, he and Louise had gone to argue their case to the Headmaster immediately.

It had not gone well.

The old man had finally agreed, under much sufferance, to let them both try again just once; in case there had been some error. He even drew the circles personally, with great amusement, and then calmly watched as their summonings failed to even explode. That was unusual for the Zero. Then he smiled an unpleasantly pleased smile at the both of them.

“And now, since we have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the two in our infirmary must be your un-bonded familiars, let us go meet them.” He had said that with far too much mirth in his voice. Then there had been the next issue.

Before this day Guiche had possessed a certain sense of kinship with Kirche. The Germanian woman set the blood of men afire as much as Guiche himself felt a flame in his heart for the many ladies of the world. Now he found himself hating the buxom girl with increasing passion with every passing moment.

She’d gone to the infirmary as well, ostensibly to help out the Professor. He didn’t believe a word of it. After all; there she was conversing with the horrid little man in his native tongue. It seemed he was not a misshapen brute after all. That hunch in his back had simply been a massive pack and some rectangular, cloth-wrapped object he’d laid to one side. It felt heavy just to look at it. Putting that aside for the moment he looked at the current object of his ire.

The evil thing had written up a contract.

Eight days off a month, plus two weeks illness and bereavement leave a year; with pay. That was just the start of the insult being dealt to him. There was also some clause about how this ‘Kenneth’ character would, and he quoted to himself under his breath, “Protect him from non-lethal harm only if it was not brought about by his own foolishness”. What did that even mean?

He read the whole thing, of course. Even though he was sometimes regarded as foolish Guiche was no idiot; particularly not when it came to matters such as these. His father’s tales of incautious Nobles signing away their birthright by mistake had taught him at least that much caution. Which is how he came upon the many clauses allowing the being that would supposedly be his familiar to disobey him essentially as he pleased.

"This is beyond ridiculous. Your little scrap of paper is a sham! Why, you've written it up so that you can just ignore my commands on no more than a whim!" Professor Colbert shifted in place. He was leaning on his staff and quietly watching the proceedings but, on the whole, allowing them to continue as they would.

"Actually, Mister Gramont, the terms are more than reasonable; Ser Manson asked for my advice on them. You'd be best thinking of him as closer to a landless Knight than anything else. He simply seeks to ensure he will not betray his contract by refusing to violate his own virtues." Hmph. The brutish creature had even managed to get the staff on his side; no doubt preying on the Professor's better nature. He turned to Kirche instead.

“Bah! Enough of this charade. Bad enough that you’re helping this… this… thing insult me such, Kirche, but why in the name of the Founder are you letting him do the same for the Zero’s familiar?” At the sound of her nickname Louise flushed angrily but kept reading the fine print of her own, likely equally offensive, contract.

Maybe she would trade with him. The familiar she had didn’t look like much with his soft cotton doublet, with pocket-heavy vest over top, and strange fingerless leather gauntlets. There was also a heavy red cloak that had been removed by the healer and was now hanging in the corner. But he had spoken to her politely and quietly, in a fairly deferential tone; he had kept his head bowed calmly and replied to her questions concisely in thickly accented Tristainian. So much better than the… the…

“Ach, shut yer gob-hole ye little shite. Trust me, yer getting ya monies’ worth wi’ that. Ah ought t’charge ye triple.” Guiche’s fists clenched so hard his fingers turned white; then even harder when he saw Louise accepting a quill from the boy.

“Zero, you can’t be seriously agreeing to this… this farce! They are meant to be our familiars, not… retainers!” She looked up at him with a strange expression and then rolled her eyes with a loud huff. Perhaps she was simply glad to have a familiar in the first place. Then she suddenly donned a sickly sweet smile as she signed the paper.

“Perhaps you ought to have taken Hiraga here instead, Guiche the Vain. He may not be as exotic as your familiar but he possesses a number of talents that make him not only a useful servant but a perfectly serviceable familiar.” He couldn’t help but grind his teeth together as she finished signing both copies and then handed one to her new servant. The young man bowed deeply to her, folded the contract up and carefully placed it inside his vest.

The worst part was that she was right. Kenneth had explained to both of them that the young man’s name was Saito Hiraga and that he was from a nation in the same land as himself; albeit a very different one. Apparently he had some skill at cooking and cleaning, among other similar menial tasks, although his contract probably excluded him from such duties much like Kenneth’s.

Far more of interest was the explanation that his occupation at home was as a ranger; some sort of forester or woodsman or gamekeeper or something like that. As such he had training in recognizing plants and herbs, as well as practice with a bow and light blades. Not only could he probably serve as a serviceable bodyguard for the Zero he could also function as a porter and, most irritatingly, perform a number of tasks with far greater competency than a normal familiar could.

So instead of the polite and competent young man he was stuck with the thing that currently seemed to be telling Germanian jokes so dirty that they were making Kirche the Ardent blush. Not that she was in any way discouraging him from doing so with the way she was furiously scribbling them down in one of her class notebooks.

“By the Holy Founder… why couldn’t I have gotten a nice, normal familiar instead of this… this!” He waved at Kenneth with a huffy pout. Worst of all, he was having to miss his planned evening rendezvous with that lovely first year to deal with this farce. However, it seemed that his mini-tantrums had finally gotten the attention of their cause.

“Boy.” Something about the way that was said caused Guiche’s spine to stiffen straight. His hand twitched out of the phantom desire to salute. It was like when his father said ‘Son’; crisp, no-nonsense, military. “Seems y’think tha’ my demands are a mite unreasonable. Well, too bad fer ye. Messir Colbert tol' me tha’ slavery is illegal in these parts, so ye will be paying me.” Ah… well, of course-

“An’, if ah understand correctly, the nature of this ritual is such that ye cannae even call up a new creature unless ah die. An’ do ah have news for ye, boy-o; ah’m over three hundred years old an’ no likely to die of aging any time before yer Kingdom falls, by my reckoning.” Colbert twitched at that, his hands shifting on the staff he was carrying idly at his side. Kenneth ignored him. “If ye dinnae want my service ah’ll just go to this Germania place an’ become a mercenary. Doesn’t sound like anythin’ in these lands has the stones needed to off me, either, so ye can bet ah’ll outlast ye.”

The diabolical little bastard had him by the balls. But… even so… these demands… he wanted to be paid in pure gold! Even when he translated the cost in his head into coinage it still came out to a sum he could use to hire a half-dozen blades and have enough for a footman and a carriage. Possibly even a horse! Every month! It wasn’t that the de Gramont’s could not afford it, of course, but… every month?

Kenneth stood quite suddenly and grabbed Guiche by the front of the shirt. The young man found himself being carried over the dwarf’s shoulder like a sack of flour. While this was certainly surprising, and the strength being displayed was impressive, he quickly set to beating the fiend about the back and shoulders. Not that it did much for him. The strangely textured armour that he was wearing was painfully hard against Guiche’s soft fists and he couldn’t retrieve his wand.

Kirche, Louise and the Professor were too confused by the display to do anything before Guiche's flailing legs vanished from view.

“What are you doing with me! Unhand me you… you heathen brute!” Kenneth just huffed and continued his calm march downstairs and out into the abandoned grounds. It was far too late for anyone to be around. Even so he didn’t stop; calmly carrying the boy to a secluded spot by one of the walls and dumping him on the ground.

“How dare yo-” There was a steely ring in the air as Kenneth drew his weapon in one smooth motion and pressed the blunt topside of his axe to Guiche’s throat. It was a horrible looking weapon; single blade on one side and pointed end on the other. Rather than the chill of metal he was expecting there was an unpleasant warmth to it.

“Boy.” The voice was harsher even than before and quite suddenly the noble felt like a child. Before the tone had been more like his father when speaking to his sons. Reprimanding, yes, but at least attempting to be gentle. As it was now Guiche was put more in mind of the time he’d heard his father dressing down a subordinate for doing something exceptionally foolish.

After a moment the axe vanished under the cloak again as Kenneth sighed loudly. “Verrah well. Ah’ll humor ye. This, boy, is th’ reason ya should sign the contract.” As Guiche watched Kenneth deliberately raised one of his feet. He noticed that, strangely, the heavy boots he wore lacked soles; there was just a strap around them holding them to the squat man’s feet.

Kenneth’s foot came down. Guiche stared.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

I, Guiche de Gramont, Mage of Tristain, do swear upon the Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers in the name of Brimir the Founder, to accept Kenneth Manson, Dwarf of Kelicho, as my bonded familiar under the aforementioned conditions and agree to abide by them for as long as my life may last.

I, Kenneth Manson, once Son of Man, do swear upon Aspiration-in-Providence, the Goddess Zazâni, to serve Guiche de Gramont, Mage of Tristain, as his bonded partner under the aforementioned conditions and agree to abide by them for as long as his honour and the tyranny of time allows.

Signed, Sealed and Witnessed before the Eyes of God by Headmaster Osmond of the Tristania Academy of Mages.

 

The first trouble had come before the sun even went down. Louise and her familiar were gone by the time they returned to the medical bay in order to retrieve Kenneth’s items and sign the contract, which was a small relief. Even if he was agreeing to this foolishness Guiche certainly retained a number of misgivings.

At least the brutish dwarf had agreed to find his own lodgings. Having to share his room with something that smelled like that would be just too much. It wasn’t even especially offensive, as such. For some odd reason a thick scent much like cooked pork permeated the squat creature’s clothing. Really, it was more distracting than anything and the smell just reminded Guiche that he’d missed dinner.

All he’d been able to do was get a plate of cold cuts, not-especially-fresh bread and cheese sent up to his room. He’d devoured it all anyway, grumbling at the indignity, and finally collapsed into his bed. The exhaustion of the day was such that he’d even forgotten to get changed and, as a result, was almost late for breakfast.

When he arrived at the Alviss Dining Hall he found that at least Kenneth wasn’t visibly making a nuisance of himself. Louise the Zero was being a pain, however. Her familiar shadowed her in an irritatingly perfect manner; moving three steps behind her at all times. He was dressed impeccably, having apparently managed to find the time to transform his travelling cloak into a smart red long coat. Or, no, it looked like the hood simply folded out of the way somehow? A curious garment.

Still, he was the perfect servant. The Zero ignored his spiteful glares as her familiar smartly overtook her in order to pull her chair out for her and pushed her in once she was seated. He then took up a position at her side, just behind her, and seemed to be doing his best to act like a high-class butler as opposed to the lowborn lout he undoubtedly was. Many of those who would usually be snickering at her expense were instead flushed with jealousy that she had acquired such an efficient servant.

Guiche made it a point to finish quickly and then storm out as best he could while still looking fabulous in the process. It was important not to lose his composure. Equally important was finding what had happened to his familiar.

Of course, he shortly wished he hadn’t. The foul little… well, calling him what he was, the dwarf had apparently slept in the stables. Then he had presumably mucked out the stables in exchange for breakfast if the smell was anything to judge by. More galling, however, was the large wooden tankard he was currently clutching.

The demonstration last night had done very little to even Guiche’s mood. If anything it just made him angrier. This Kenneth ought to act more… more… more majestically than that! Instead he was as common as muck. It was just unfair that the Zero’s common familiar acted in a manner befitting a noble servant whereas his was sitting here with the help and… carousing!

The actual employees of the school dispersed hurriedly as they saw a noble approaching, likely so he couldn’t identify them later, but Kenneth stayed firmly seated on a wooden stool. He was tearing at a loaf of bread in the one hand and washing it down with a thick mug of what had to be the lowest quality of beer; undoubtedly smuggled in for the servants to share when slacking off.

“You!” Guiche was further galled when Kenneth just waved happily at him. “Why are you drinking alcohol at this time of day! Have you no shame?” His answer came in the form of a drawn-out burp followed by the dwarf tearing off another chunk of bread.

“‘sh r’ght.” Quite suddenly Guiche found himself thankful beyond belief when his familiar swallowed before continuing. For a moment he’d feared the worst. “Lad, if ye didnae want me t’drink ye should ha’ put somethin’ inna contract ‘bout it. Anyhow; ah’ve nae been drunk since my wedding day, so ye dun have t’worry about me doin’ somethin embarassin’.”

That brought the young man up short. The way Kenneth so suddenly brought up the subject while just sitting there and casually drinking from his tankard… he hadn’t even considered that… that he had… “Dinnae worry, lad.” Guiche looked up, although not very far, into the amused, bearded face staring at him. “She’ll be there when ah get back. Nae lass o’ mine is so soppy as t’fall apart wi’out me. ‘tain’t yer fault, neither.” He drained the cup in a single go and then dropped it on the ground before hopping off his stool.

“A’ight. Y’were lookin’ for me. Gotta job, boy? ‘cause if not, ah’ll be takin’ th’ day off. Ah’ve got things t’arrange iffin ah’ll be workin’ for ye.” If Guiche had been stopped short before he now felt as if he was moving in reverse.

“You have… things? What things?” There was a faint note of panic in the young man’s voice that Kenneth obviously picked up on. His grin was quite visibly even through the tangled beard and his chuckles merited a clacking accompaniment from the beads therein.

“Relax, lad. Just gotta do some research, first off. Find out th’ sort o’ forgin’ methods an’ th’ like y’have in this world.” Guiche blinked a couple of times and furrowed his brow.

“You think that things will be different in whatever barbarian land you hail from? I assure you that Tristain is the very height of progress. Our smiths are the grandest in the world.” Again the dwarf chuckled, as if laughing at some private joke that Guiche was not being informed of.

“May be so, lad, but y’called me through th’ Void isself. Ah’m willin’ t’bet that things are a wee bit different in m’world as compared to this. Case in point?” He pointed upwards. Guiche stared blankly at the empty sky for a moment then glanced back down. Kenneth was smirking. “There ain’t a ring up there. So, boy-o, trust me when ah say ah’m from much further away than yer thinkin’.”

“Oh. Ah. Very well then.” Guiche had no idea what the little person was on about and so he just let it be. “What sort of things will you be arranging, though?” Kenneth shook his head.

“Nae, lad, ye’ll be arrangin’ them for me. Ah’ll be makin’ a list o’ what ah need for ye t’send away for. Gotta make me a few things. A ranged weapon, for starters. Be a bit hard t’defend ya if m’range o’ attack is limited t’what ah can reach with me axe.” For a horrible moment Guiche had a vision of the dwarf building some grand, wheeled ballista or catapult and riding it about the grounds. No, no… he wasn’t quite that insane. Surely.

… surely.

“Very well, then. I shall leave it to you. Perhaps you might like to… to...” He couldn’t very well say a lot of things he was thinking, so he settled for mumbling something about tidying up and then fled the scene. What was he thinking, accepting that… oh well. He still had to write to father and inform him of what had happened. To top it all off he had a terrible feeling that he’d forgotten something very important.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Perhaps that something had been that his first class was still with the Zero. Her familiar was nowhere to be seen during class; a small mercy in that, at least. Still, Guiche had no idea how Miss Chevreuse hadn’t heard of Louise but it lead to yet another devastated classroom. It had been just terrible; a disaster made all the worse by the reactions of the poor, panicked familiars.

It did let him have lunch in peace, at least. He was surrounded by the usual crowd of fellows but really wasn’t feeling up to dealing with them today. Instead he swept over to one of the maids, who irritated him somewhat simply by reminding him of that Hiraga, and told her to bring tea and cakes outside for him. Then he slunk around to his dear Montmorency and whispered sweetly for her to meet him outside for a private tea while the girls around her tittered delightfully.

There was a nice wrought-iron table in one of the courts and the flowers around were in bloom. He selected a rose and delicately picked it. When Montmorency arrived it was offered to her with a flourish.

“For you; though its fragrance cannot compare to yours.” She blushed sweetly as he pulled out a chair for her and sat in his own. Ah, yes. This was just what he needed. He could recite sweet poetry to her and she would fawn over him and all of his cares could just melt away into the limpid pools of her eyes.

His good mood lasted through the delivery of tea and small cakes by the exotic maid and some time into the meal; right up until a familiar voice suddenly made him realize just what he had forgotten.

“Sir Guiche? Are you here?” Katie. Dear, sweet Katie. He had been meant to meet with her last night but with the Summoning and Kenneth and all of that chaos he had forgotten! But why was she… oh dear. The adorable young lady stepped into view of both him and Montmorency. “The maid said you… were…” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the second blonde.

“Guiche.” His sweet rose was speaking in a tone as icy as her stare. This did not bode well. “Who is this wench I see before me, and why is she calling your name?” His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish as he tried to find the words to explain.

“Yes, Sir Guiche, I also wish to know who this old hag I see before me is, and why you are having tea with her!” A vein bulged from Montmorency’s forehead in a most unladylike fashion as Katie snarled an insult back at her. Oh dear.

“Hag?” The shrill rising pitch of his dear rose’s voice was a terrible omen. She stood with such force that the chair was flung down and turned on her heel. “Well, if you wish to associate with such common flowers I shan’t get in your way, Guiche the Pigheaded!” And she stormed off.

“Perhaps you cannot see the flowers for the garden, Guiche the Pig-faced! I never wish to lay eyes upon you again!” And then Katie was gone as well. For the first time in quite a while Guiche was struck dumb. His honeyed words had failed him and both his roses had fled. The one thing he could be grateful for was that he was not in the dining hall when it had happened.

A noise made him raise his head; hoping against hope that one of the ladies had decided to return. Instead it was just the maid, come to collect the plates. His blood boiled at the sight of the girl and he rose to his feet.

“You!” He stormed over and grabbed her wrist, yanking it upwards as she called out in pain. “You thoughtless commoner! Your idiocy has damaged the good name of two lovely young ladies and besmirched the honour of the House de Gramont!” She tried to stammer out some vapid excuse but he just raised his hand.

Only to find it caught in a crushingly strong grip.

“Let ‘er go, boy.” Kenneth Manson was standing beside him and holding Guiche’s wrist with his left hand. The pressure being exerted would be enough to bring him to his knees if he weren’t being held up. Weakly, Guiche opened his other hand and released the maid. Kenneth glanced at her. “Off y’go, lass. Me an’ th’ young master here need t’have a little… chat.”

She fled at speed, leaving him alone in the secluded courtyard with the dwarf. Who still had yet to release Guiche. In fact, he squeezed harder and, in doing so, forced the young man on to his knees and even further down until their eyes were level. When Kenneth spoke he was using that low, dangerous tone once more.

“Boy… ah have killed men for lesser sins than th’ one you were about t’commit.” The young man’s mouth once more did its best impression of a dead fish as he came to understand just how deadly serious his familiar was.

“B-but that maid, sh-” He was cut off by a knee impacting his stomach with great force. Kenneth finally released his wrist and stood aside so that Guiche could double over and shortly empty out the contents of his stomach on to the grass. Just as he finished a powerful kick caught him on the side and sent him spinning onto his back. The dwarf strolled over and in a single movement drew his weapon and reversed it; driving the spike on the back through the stone beside Guiche’s head. It sank all the way in, and didn’t crack.

“D’you know why ah agreed t’this arrangement, boy?” Weakly, Guiche shook his head. He was distinctly aware of the foul smell in the air and was suddenly quite glad at least hadn’t landed on it. “That girl, the one tha’ can speak Dwarvish or whatever it is that ye call it. She said that ye were the son of a General. Ah figured that meant y’would at least know somethin’ about honour. Ah see ah was wrong.”

When he tried to speak Kenneth stood on his stomach. Stamped, more like. All the air left his body and even when the rough foot was withdrawn, undoubtedly staining his clothes, he could only gasp for air. “Y’were the one who shat on th’ good name o’ those two young ladies, an’ yer own! Nobody else! And then t’take out your anger on an innocent girl! Boy! Ah spit on yer name! Y’dinnae deserve it!” Shame filled Guiche’s face as the dwarf tore into him.

He turned his head away; feeling unworthy to meet his own familiar's eyes in that moment. Certainly, Kenneth was right. In his heart he had known that entertaining the affections of both girls was... improper. Father would likely have tanned his hide if he'd struck one of the maids at home, as well; so why would he ever do such a thing here at the Academy. His heart continued to shrivel in his chest as he let tears of self-loathing fall freely.

“Hmph. Ah kin see y’realize th’ error of your ways. Well, consider yerself lucky. If ah’d discovered ye instead o’ that girl ah’d have tanned yer backside and marched ye afore those ladies wi’ your britches ‘bout yer knees t’apologize. As it stands, ah think ye’ve learned the lesson here.” Kenneth reached out again and Guiche was quite startled when the dwarf hauled him to his feet instead of striking him. He took a moment to compose himself, along with a few deep breaths, and then bowed his head.

“You… are correct, Sir Dwarf. I have brought shame to my family name, and those girls. Please… how… what can I do to right this?” Kenneth just shrugged, but there was a measure of approval in his calm gaze. Even though he was looking up at his master Guiche still felt like he was the smaller one.

“Firstly, y’apologize an’ beg for forgiveness. An’ y’do it genuine like. No excuses. Admit yer mistake, say yer sorry for disrespectin’ th’ lasses, an’ see if they’ll forgive you. With any luck they may; but if they do not then ye will nae press the issue! D’ya get me, boy?” Guiche nodded; barely trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke again. At least his familiar seemed molified somewhat.

“Very well. Y’do that first an’ foremost. After that y’can order my stuff; ah’ve got th’ list for ya. An’ then we’ll see if there isn’t a real man buried under all them frills an’ perfume.” Guiche did the only thing he could think to do; a gesture he’d often seen his father receive from various visitors. He saluted smartly, heels coming together. Inwardly he knew he must look a mess. Hair mussed, clothes dirtied from being kicked around and damp with terrified sweat. Still.. a man should conduct himself in a certain manner and that was what Guiche aspired to.

He marched off smartly to seek out Katie and Montmorency before classes began again. Hopefully he could retain some semblance of his dignity, and some scrap of his honour, through the earnestness of his apology to them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

... and his strength is certainly prodigious for he carries a slab of stone with him wherever he goes although he refuses to say why. I have tested his skills against my Valkyries and feel I can say with pride that they were able to withstand at least one blow from him; before he drew his axe, that is. On the whole, he is undoubtedly a fine familiar.

With that in mind, I have included a copy of the contract to which we have agreed. I think that, given what I have described, the terms are reasonable; in addition, he wishes for the following items to be procured and delivered to the school post-haste and has agreed for the cost to be taken out of his wages. I know not why he requires such things; save that he has claimed some measure of his gear did not come with him from his homeland and he must needs replace it.

One anvil of high grade; necessarily at least a half a metre by one third of a metre in area of its surface.

Some five hundred kiloweight of clay of any grade.

The following alchemical compounds…

There was more in there, of course. Curious things. Amounts of ore in varying grades, a number of odd substances often used in the tanning process. Not very expensive, on the whole, and yet General Armand de Gramont eyed the list with confusion and more than a little suspicion as he checked the letter against some examples of his son’s handwriting. Its authenticity could not be debated.

The contents, however, were concerning. Some of these compounds were used in the making of black powder, or so he thought. He may have to check that. It was not a great expense and if the prowess of this… ‘dwarf’ were accurate to the descriptions provided by his son then the price he was charging for his services was no great expense. He could afford a number of lesser guards at that rate, true, but the protection afforded his child may be worth it. However…

Armand knew that Guiche, of all his children, was a rather… romantic individual. This tale of calling a curious warrior from another land as his familiar rung a lot of ominous bells in his head. Had his son been taken in by some outlandish tale and agreed to assist this odd person in their endeavours? Perhaps it was so. He considered the matter further, drumming his fingers on his desk.

Finally he made up his mind and pulled a sheaf of parchment over to begin penning his letters. The first to a man he knew in the Capitol; instructions to ready the items and deliver them to the Academy. Second, to his son; informing him that the items would be delivered post-haste and congratulating him on his success. Third…

Yes. He would go and visit his son. It would be wise to inspect the investment he was making by agreeing to this contract. Also, he was curious as to what the person described intended to do with those items. If it turned out to be a trick, well… the boy had mentioned the youngest daughter of the La Vallière’s had also acquired a similar familiar as well, had he not?

He smiled as he wrote the name on the third letter and pressed his signet ring into the hot wax of the seal. Yes. If they turned out to be scamming Guiche and his classmate then he’d leave it to Karin to tidy up.

She was very good at that.

 

“Ser Kenneth, I’m not sure I quite understand the point of continuing this exercise.” Guiche shifted nervously as he looked over at where his familiar was standing. They were not in the school itself but, rather, had come out into the woods nearby once more. Yesterday there had been an abject demonstration of his familiar’s fighting prowess when compared with his own Bronze Valkyries.

It had been humiliating. Kenneth had caved in the chest of the first one with a left straight, and then only drawn his axe because he’d simply decided that destroying them with his bare hands would be inefficient. Today, however, it was different. The dwarf’s axe was sitting at his back, yes, but he was only holding on to it in case of bandits.

Instead he had put on a pair of steel gauntlets and was grinning maliciously.

“Weeeell, tha’s simple, boy. Ah’m going t’show ye how to survive on the off-chance that ah’m nay available t’keep ya alive.” Guiche nodded. He understood that much. Only… well, he’d managed to recreate a pair of valkyries at least. Kenneth had suggested he arm these ones with axes exclusively; that way his familiar could teach him some fighting techniques to use with them later. That wasn’t the concern; he was more worried about the metal plate he had on.

“Yes, but I fail to see the point of this.” He rapped his knuckles on the breastplate. It was smelly, and heavy, and even with the padded vest he’d been forced to put on as well it was rubbing in uncomfortable places. Kenneth had taken pity on him and not made him wear the helmet, or any of the other bits.

“Boy, where ah come from th’ best warmages wear full plate armour. We gotta build up yer strength a bit. Th’ attack squad idea ‘s a good one, ah’ll grant, but th’ best way to run it well’d be from in th’ thick o’ things. Which means armour!” It had never really occurred to Guiche that, if he were to go into battle, he’d have to get within a certain distance of the actual fighting to control his golems reliably before Kenneth had pointed it out to him. Now he was seriously reconsidering his specialty.

“Whene’er we train, ye’ll wear tha’. Ah’ll work out a proper diet plan an’ such wi’ th’ help o’ one of yer healers. Dun wanna o’er work ye.” Guiche whimpered. The brute would ruin his perfect, handsome figure! Kenneth just rolled his eyes and kicked at the dirt a bit. “Dinnae be daft, ye idjit. Th’ lasses love a strong man. An’ asides from that…” He strolled over to his pile of stuff.

There was the cloth-wrapped stone tablet he always took with him everywhere, of course. The thing was massive and, judging by the sounds when Kenneth laid it down, incredibly heavy. He’d also brought a bag of food, thankfully, as well as something very strange. It looked like three flour sacks sewn together. The dwarf hucked it up and tossed it over at Guiche’s feet where it landed with an unceremonious thump.

“Pick tha’ up.” He stared at it instead. What on Halkegenia? Kenneth sighed. “Y’wanna be a hero, kid. Well tha’s yer damsel.” Guiche stared a bit more. Truly, there was a crude face on one of the sacks. He’d managed to attach a straw wig to that end as well. “C’mon. Pick ‘er up. Best way’d be o’er yer shoulder, but y’won’t be doin tha’, will ye?”

After a final moment’s hesitation Guiche bent down and picked up the ‘damsel’. Or attempted to, at least. The blasted thing was just so heavy! Surely his beloved Montmorency didn’t weigh nearly so much as this? In fact, he said as much to his trainer. “No’ yet, boy. But she’ll be an adult one day, an’ so will many o’ th’ damsels ye’ll be rescuin’ in yer life.”

Guiche nodded solemnly and tried again. Then again. Once more, even! He really was doing his best but the sacks were just too heavy. He could barely get one end off the ground. The damnable armour was a problem as well. Kenneth nodded a few times.

“A’ight. Tha’s enough. Y’cannae do it, an’ tha’s fine. Yer just a boy, still. Dinnae worry, lad, ah aim t’change that. C’mon, let’s getcha armour off. Ah’ll need t’adjust m’plans. We’ll work on yer basic fitness fer now an' spend th' rest o' th' day on yer valkyries instead.” Guiche breathed a sigh of relief as his familiar helped him pull the breastplate and smelly padding off himself. It was bundled up with the rest of Kenneth’s stuff as he started to guide Guiche through a few light stretches and exercises to help his muscles relax from the strain.

“Ah… Ser Manson-” His familiar shot him a Look again and he swallowed hard. “Uh… that is to say… Ser Kenneth. Might I ask what you had planned for me today before you changed your mind?” Part of him knew he would deeply regret asking but, even so, he just had to know. The dwarf’s answering grin was dripping with malicious glee.

“Ah was gonna have y’run away from me with yer damsel, boy. An’ if ah caught up with ye, ah was gonna bury me foot in yer tacklebox.” The young mage’s brow furrowed. They hadn’t brought any fishing geeaaaaooooh. Ooh. That was evil.

“Ser Kenneth! You wouldn’t really have done it though, right? It’s just meant to motivate me. Right?” He looked helplessly into the thickly bearded face of the madman he was trusting to teach him. “... right?”

Kenneth just laughed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

All of this had come about as a result of his foolishness the day after the Summoning, and his desperate attempts the next to apologize. Katie had forgiven him… sort of. Rather, she had said he was forgiven but she still desired never to see or speak to him again. He’d made his apology to Montmorency twice as heartfelt after that.

The dirty footprints on his lovely white shirt may have had some impact on her decision as she asked what had happened after she left. He’d explained about Kenneth, well, kicking the crap out of him; almost literally, in fact, and sworn his regret and shame to the heavens.

She’d forgiven him. Eventually. After letting him wax poetic on her perfection and how truly sorry he was for a few minutes. Ten at the most. After which she had magnanimously agreed to give him a second chance. If he screwed up again…

But it was so hard! All these beauties around for him to appreciate. The school was simply rife with temptation in the form of so many charming young ladies. It was quite difficult to keep his composure. Which was why, the next day, he had asked his familiar what he knew about being a soldier.

Very little, as it turned out. Kenneth wasn’t a leader of men, or dwarves, even though it sounded like they’d probably follow him regardless. He was a wandering rogue. An adventurer, he called it, although his stories painted a very different light. His familiar was a hero. Even if he didn’t quite see it like that himself.

So he’d foolishly asked his familiar to teach him about how to be an adventurer. Or, as Kenneth kept teasing him, a hero. He didn’t mind the terminology, nor did he make any comments about what Guiche felt might be a somewhat naive choice in the long run. Not being criticized for his romanticism was… it was nice, really.

“Right. Tha’s enough o’ that fer t’day.” Guiche hit the forest floor; panting and sweaty. Kenneth looked very amused. The dwarf was wearing some sort of studded leather and he still wasn’t as bad off as his master. Ugh, and his shirt would just be absolutely ruined. “Ye’ll be repeatin’ this e’ry morn if ye wanna get proper strong, boy.”

‘This’ had been a series of push-ups, sit-ups, squats, strange jumping things and all sorts of other exercises that Guiche could still feel screaming in his muscles. “When ah get th’ stuff y’sent away for ah’ll make ye a proper set o’ weights, as well.” His muscles screamed in anticipation. Oh, the joy.

“Ser… Kenneth… it… it is only… barely midday…” The dwarf nodded and tossed something at him. It appeared to be a wrapped package. A few long moments of deliberation passed before Guiche pulled himself upright and shuffled over to lean against the nearest tree. The shirt was already ruined anyway.

There was food inside the package and Guiche tore into it with a ravenous fury he’d never before experienced. Until that very second he had no idea how damn hungry he was. Part of him cared that it wasn’t a delicate garden salad with fine bread and cheese. The rest of him was wolfing down cold cuts like they’d vanish in an instant if he didn’t.

Only once every last morsel was firmly in his stomach did Guiche realize that his lunch was about twice the size of his familiar’s. At which point he became fully cognizant of precisely how much food he’d actually eaten, going by the bones. Kenneth was still consuming a leg of chicken; crushing the bones between his teeth and eating the lot, by the sounds of it.

Being somewhat more polite than his familiar he at least waited for the dwarf to finish before starting conversation again. Coincidentally, it gives him some time to recover from the burning pain suffusing all of his muscles.

“Ser Kenneth?” The dwarf looked up over at him. He’d finished his food and had cracked open a small cask of ale; only about the size of his head. “I am somewhat concerned about the size of my portions. Are you sure that’s… correct?” Saying that he was worried about his figure probably wouldn’t get a great reaction from the familiar.

“Aye. Y’need t’put on weight if yer gonna bulk up.Tha’ pudgy fellow in yer class would have an easier time getting muscular than ye would righ’ now.” What? Malicorne the Blow-hard, a grander hero than he? Ridiculous. “Yer body converts fat t’muscle. Y’body is too lean righ’ now, so ye’ll be eatin’ more.” Oh. He didn’t know that. Well, of course he didn’t; he wasn’t a healer, after all.

“Come on, finish up an’ we’ll head back. Ah’ve got some stuff about yer valkyries t’go over.” Guiche held out his empty lunch box and Kenneth nodded with approval. He cleaned up the cask of ale in a single pull and then laid it down as he packed up the stuff. His tablet was slung back over his back with Guiche noting his feet sank into the ground for a brief moment before he got the balance right.

They strolled outwards from their practice ground shortly after; passing through the devastated area that had been the site of their ‘battle’ yesterday. Not much of a fight. Kenneth had done more damage to the trees than Guiche had done to his familiar; which was mostly due to him striking through them to hit Valkyries. Thankfully he’d been able to pull off a basic water magic to douse the flames that had resulted.

Guiche could say this much; the effort he had to expend so consistently to clean up after the dwarf would certainly see him to Line rank shortly. His sleep had been very sound as of late due to the massive amounts of willpower he was using on a daily basis. Perhaps that was also like a muscle? Would using it strengthen it? A curiosity to consider further.

As they came out of the forest on to the path, having tied up their borrowed horse a small way into the forest, they encountered another pair of people heading the opposite direction they’d been intending to go. Louise de la Vallière was seated on a horse behind her bemused familiar; who was quite startled to see the pair of them coming out. Especially given how sorry Guiche looked.

“Ah, what is it, Saito?” The pink-haired girl poked her head out from around her familiar. Her expression was slightly green and Guiche could guess why; the horse was one of the larger ones from the stables and it had come to a skidding halt as her familiar reined it in. He must have been going quite fast.

“It is Guiche de Gramont and Kenneth Flamecutter, Lady Vallière.” Guiche shot a look at his familiar at the counterpart’s explanation. It was certainly an odd epithet to add. He often forgot that his familiar was, apparently, famous in his homeland.

“Oh, so it is.” She peered around Saito at the two of them, taking in Guiche’s frightful state with no small hint of amusement. “You look quite a mess, de Gramont. Having fun playing in the woods? It must be so nice to have such a leisurely life…” The nobleman bristled at the insult, but Kenneth just chuckled and pulled their horses out of the undergrowth.

“Aye, ‘tis a blessin’, indeed. Y’off to town there, Saito of Hiraga?” The young man nodded; happy to converse with his fellow familiar; although he did have one minor correction to add, it seemed.

“It is just so, Flamecutter; although I am, as well you know, Saito of Vallière now. I doubt the Lord of Hiraga would allow me to return to his service in the future.” Guiche was confused by the entire conversation, and Louise seemed a little embarrassed, but Kenneth nodded approvingly.

“She treatin’ you right, boy?” What a thing to ask! In front of two other nobles, no less. Surely no commoner worth their pay would ever answer such a foolish question. Then again, the two foreigners seemed to have strange customs.

“Yessir, she is a high quality master. I have made numerous presumptions for which Lord Hiraga would have likely had me punished severely, but even when I fetched the horsewhip for her she declined to give me any lashes.” The Zero turned bright red and muttered something under her breath that Guiche didn’t quite pick up on. His dwarf just seemed even more pleased.

“Very good. Ah’m glad yer treatin’ him right, lass. Tha’ boy’s a proper Kagati Woodsman; he’ll do right by ye.” She nodded faintly, hiding behind her familiar. Saito straightened up and pulled the horse straight with the reins.

“We ought to hurry, m’lady. Our pace is good, but the stores may not be open much longer.” A certain curiosity arose in Guiche and he couldn’t help but ask.

“What are you aiming to buy in town, Vallière?” There was a moment as she eyed him as if debating whether or not to say anything. But, shortly, she relented.

“If you must know, Saito does not have a bow. I aim to purchase one for him.” Kenneth clicked his tongue in a fashion that could only denote disapproval. The way he rolled his eyes was also somewhat of a hint.

“Bah. Y’willnae get a good enough one fer him in this place. C’mon, Guiche, up y’go.” Said noble was quite surprised when he was hauled up by his ankles and deposited firmly on his horse. Kenneth didn’t have one. His stone was too heavy and he was quite capable of keeping up anyway. His maximum speed certainly wasn’t equal to a proper gallop, or even a sprint from a horse, but he could certainly keep it up for some time.

“We’ll go with ye. If ye’ll foot th’ bill fer th’ materials ah don’t mind makin’ a proper Dwarven bow for ya, an’ ah kin help y’pick out some good quality tools for him.” Louise seemed confused by the offer but Saito was certainly eager. He perked up immediately and turned to look at her. They began a hushed discussion as Guiche leaned over and glared at his familiar.

“I thought we were returning to the Academy to continue my training,” he hissed down at the dwarf. Certainly, that was what he’d thought. Wasting time on the Zero and her familiar meant less time for him!

“This ‘s worthwhile. Yer gonna need a sparring partner closer t’yer skill level than me if y’gonna make any progress. Besides, a true hero ‘s selfless, boy.” He blanched at the gentle yet firm rebuttal and weakly nodded his head. Right. They’d had a… discussion about the treatment of others. Especially the… ah… Louise.

“Very well; I would welcome your help. I don’t know much about weaponry, and neither does Saito.” Guiche bowed as gracefully as he could while on horseback, and then they set off. Louise’s horse was faster than his, but Saito reined it in. Kenneth kept up, somehow, by just calmly and firmly jogging along with them. He was much like a golem, in many ways.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

The guards must have thought they looked a sight when they reached the gates of Tristain a few hours later. Louise’s appearance was reasonable enough but Guiche knew he was a frightful mess, and Kenneth was… Kenneth.

Still, they were allowed in and warned not to dally too long if they wanted to return to their Academy before nightfall. Kenneth was the one who queried the guard as to the location of a decent equipment store, as well as a bowyer, and soon they were inside the store.

Although the proprietor gave Guiche a confused glance and Kenneth a suspicious glare he quickly rallied as Louise entered with Saito close behind. That rankled heavily at his sensibilities; to be derided as if he were a mere commoner. Harumph.

“Ah, a student of the academy. I regret to inform you that I do not sell sword-wands, it’s not my trade, but perhaps I have something here that might suit your servant? A young noblewoman such as yourself ought to have firm protection at hand with the troubles going on.” Louise preened, Guiche fumed, and Saito frowned.

“Troubles?” He moved further into the store and examined the daggers with a critical eye; picking one up and shifting it in his hand. Guiche wondered just what he was doing.

“Yessir, we’ve had a spate of nasty murders lately. After dark, thankfully, but there’s talk of a curfew and more besides; but I think it shan’t come to that.” The elderly store-owner looked from side to side and then leaned in to carry on with a conspiratorial faux-whisper. “I have heard that the victims were all common criminals, mi’lady, and that they may have been slain with magic. Perhaps some fine, upstanding noble has taken it upon themselves to clean up our fair Tristain!”

Now this, Guiche considered, was a man who showed proper respect to his betters. If only his own familiar was a little more… well, perhaps not. A deferential Kenneth would feel… off. He just couldn’t picture it.

“I’ve no care for your gossip; rather, I’m looking for a weapon for my guard to use.” Louise folded her arms in a way that she likely thought was imperious but just put Guiche in mind of one of his young cousins demanding a second helping of cake.

It seemed to work, though. The old man brought out the finest blade that he had ever laid eyes upon. He laid it reverentially on the counter and began to extol its many virtues; the reinforced hand-guard, the exquisitely honed edge with the many runes denoting the infused magic, an alchemically-created alloy that shone like gold and was stronger than steel. Truly an exquisite weapon worthy of a noble servant.

“What a load o’ shite. Even if ah deigned t’wipe me arse wi’ tha’ thing it still prob’ly wouldn’ cut me.” Guiche was appropriately mortified by the absolute temerity of his familiar, and the store owner turned a colour reminiscent of boiled beets.

“I would thank you not to impugn the quality of my wares! And what, pray, would you know o-” He didn’t get to finish his thought. Kenneth had drawn his own weapon. It was the first time Guiche could really get a good look. During his first encounter it had been pressed too close to his neck to take it in. His vision had been somewhat blurry during the second encounter. As for the third, he’d been far too busy trying to dodge the flying fragments of his Valkyries.

It was beautiful. The haft was engraved with runes that shone in the light of the oil lamp. In fact, the metal itself seemed to glow faintly; it was a deep, reddish colour unlike any metal that Guiche had ever seen before. There was an engraving upon the pommel of a snarling wolf, teeth bared in preparation to strike.

More spectacular was the edge of the axe-blade itself. If the metal seemed to shine from within that part actually glowed with warmth; Guiche could feel it from where he stood. The store owner was totally silent as he took it in. What had previously seen so fine a sword looked shoddy by comparison.

“This ‘ere ‘s th’ finest work o’ th’ finest smith in all o’ Kelicho; ‘s name is Redfang, which is to say ‘tis the Fang of Red the Iron Wolf. Me beloved wife, an’ a woman without peer. Ah killed the creatures whose bones she melted down to make it an’ presented her their skulls as an engagement present.” Guiche shuddered to think what sort of creature had the kind of bones that might make that.

“Yer sword there’s pretty, ah’ll grant ye tha’. ‘t’ain’t no weapon, though. Whereas ah’d wager on my Fang here ‘gainst any piece o’ metal in this shop. E’en the anvil.” The way the glowing edge seemed to hiss and die down as he put the axe away made Guiche feel he was firmly in agreement with that.

“I prefer knuckle daggers, in any case. You don’t seem to have any here.” Saito laid two long, thin knives on the counter along with a dozen smaller ones. “I will, however, take these; the balance is good on them. Is that alright, Louise?” The old man recovered as she stammered her assent to the purchase, and made a quick calculation.

“Yes, yes, that’s… quite.” He stuck the fancy fake under the counter, after having re-wrapped it in velvet, and finished his tally. “Those will be…” For a moment he eyed Kenneth. “Ah… twelve in new gold for each of the two long blades, and… five ecu for the small.” Louise did similar calculations and counted out the coins. He counted out some change for her, due to the exchange rate between the new gold and the ecu, and Saito set about sliding the daggers into pockets in his vest.

“Hey! You’re really married to the person who made that axe?” An unfamiliar voice, deep and male, rang out from behind Guiche somewhere. Kenneth quickly spun around but the room was empty of anyone else. Except that the voice rang out again, “You think you could bring it out again? I didn’t get quite a good enough look at it! What a beauty!”

The shopkeeper’s eyes bugged out of his head; partially due to the tone of the voice and partially due to the very impolite whistle that followed the words. He dashed over to a basket of rusty swords and yanked one out of it.

“What have I told you about harassing the customers!” A scabbard was quickly seized and the protesting sword shoved into it. The old man looked at them with a touch of red on his cheeks. “Ah, I apologize, noble sirs… it is an unruly item I came into possession of due to a disreputable trader and isn’t worth your time.” It seemed that Kenneth, grinning from ear to ear, thought differently.

“Guiche.” His head jerkd up and took in the expression on the dwarf’s face with growing horror. “Buy tha’ sword.” Everyone in the room, even the amazingly unflappable Saito, was dumbfounded by the dwarf’s declaration.

“B-but, good sir, I assure you that it is a terrible trinket possessed of an unhealthy temperament and a disrespectful disposition!” Guiche couldn’t help but agree, given that it had seemed to be lusting over Kenneth’s own prized weapon; perhaps even his wife. What a strange personality for a sword to have, of all things.

“Bah. ‘s a magic sword. Either ‘tis a mighty weapon an’ might help out me young master there, or else ‘tis a cursed object an’ is thus better off in th’ care o’ someone who knows how t’dispose of it properly.” For a moment the old man gained an agonized expression; and he then pressed the sheathed blade into Kenneth's hands.

“Very well, you may have it; please, take it far away from my store. There is no need to consider payment in this case.” Ah, a firm bargain! But Guiche felt that it wouldn’t last and was therefore unsurprised when his familiar disagreed once more.

“Ah cannae defraud ye so; but ah may have a solution. This smithy were recommended t’me on m’way into town, an’ ah reckon ye get quite a few o’ those.” The man nodded cautiously. “Now, ah’m nay a smith onna same tier as me wife, but ah’m still a dwarf through ‘n’ through. E’rryone knows tha’ y’cannae beat Dwarven craftsmanship… wi’ only a very few minor exceptions.” Guiche had to wonder where he was going with this.

“Soon enough ah’ll have an anvil o’ me own back a’ the academy. If yer willin’ t’sell th’stuff ah make then ah think a ten percent commission sounds fair.” Obviously thinking of the short man’s glorious axe a shrewd expression graced the salesman’s face.

A veritable duel of haggling ensued. The store owner, whose name Guiche finally learned was Nikolas, countered with a market rate of forty percent. Kenneth’s counterpoint was based on the reputation that could be gained from the quality of his wares. Nikolas offered to arrange cheap material deals. Kenneth cited a prior arrangement with General Gramont. Nikolas suggested the value of his connections ought to bring a premium. Kenneth implied his potential military contracts might be preferable.

In the end they settled on a sixty-forty split of the proceeds, in Kenneth’s favour, after the cost of the materials. Then, obviously with high spirits, they passed by the bowyers on the way out of the city and Louise purchased a few varieties of wood on the recommendations of both Saito and Kenneth with which the latter would make a bow for the former.

They made their way back to the Academy in good spirits overall. Guiche had never considered the potential for investing in his own familiar. If Kenneth’s wares were of good quality then he could purchase materials for the familiar to make into weapons with his own stipend, and perhaps share the proceeds. He might double, or even triple, the money his father gave him! With proper re-investment and a decent labour rate he may be able to afford to fund Kenneth’s wages all on his own as well.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Whatever cheer they had remaining died firmly and ignobly shortly after they passed through the gates. A carriage was parked near the entrance that bore the insignia of House Gramont; with it was a wagon loaded high with the many items that Guiche had asked for. That was not, in and of itself, a concern.

The thing that caused both Louise and Guiche to tremble in their boots, albeit for slightly different reasons, were the three adults waiting in the main courtyard for them. Firstly was the Headmaster, who looked rather put-upon. Likely due to the other two; one of which appeared in many ways to be an older, rather more in-shape version of Guiche himself.

However; that concern paled in comparison to the woman. It was like someone had taken Louise’s general appearance and reassembled it on the frame of one of his Valkyries. The end result was steel personified standing there and looking coldly at the two of them.

“Ah, son. You have finally returned. We were about to send out search parties.” Guiche bowed his head automatically as his father spoke, the distant tone recalling many painful memories. There was no derision in there, nor anger; just the subtle tones of faint disappointment. Louise was in a similar state to him, he noted; unable to meet the gaze of the pink-haired demon that must be her own mother.

“Louise.” The girl beside him trembled slightly, but slowly looked up regardless. Guiche did not; he did not wish to see the expressions levelled at them right now. “I should very much like to know why you are returning to the Academy at this time of night in the company of two commoners, and a mere dot mage.” There was a rustle of motion. “No offence meant to your line, General.” The sound of a graciously inclined head.

“None taken; it was something I wondered as well, though perhaps I can answer. It is likely that Guiche trusted in his new familiar to keep them safe. Given his current state, I find myself questioning the wisdom of that decision.” He wanted to speak up. Exclaim that he looked like this due to his own effort, not the predations of wild animals or bandits. Yet… and yet… his father didn’t even sound insulted. Surely he ought to rebut the claim that his son couldn’t protect himself?

“Zazâni’s boun’iful tits, yer an unpleasant pair.” For a moment, Guiche thought that maybe his heart had ceased to beat at the sight of his father and he was thus in the depths of Hell at that very second. Because the alternative was that his familiar had just sworn at his father and the Duchess de la Vallière.

He dared to look up. Although the expression of the Duchess hadn’t changed Lord Gramont’s left eyebrow was half-raised. His father turned away from his familiar and looked directly at Guiche, who shrank under the gaze.

“I cannot say I am surprised, son.” He waved a gloved hand vaguely as he spoke. “It seems your romanticism has gotten the best of you once again. I’ve no idea what story you span for my son, but I assure you that I do not take insults to my family lightly; which, given the condition of my son, I think you may very well have given. It seems you have overstated your skills.” Oh, by the Founder; this could not end well.

“Th’ state th’ boy ‘s in is because o’ me, not in spite of. Ah spent th’ whole mornin’ whippin’ him into shape. If ‘e wants t’be a proper hero then there’s a long way to go.” Guiche winced as his father’s eyebrow raised higher. That was not the right thing to say.

“I will thank you to not feed into my son’s delusions any further. He is to be a soldier, and a commander of men; a path that does not require him indulging in such flights of fancy.” Karin stepped forward and ignored both man and boy alike.

“I have come to evaluate your ‘familiar’, Louise, and ensure that he is a servant appropriate to the name of Vallière. However; it is late now. Any further discussions can wait until morning.” General Gramont nodded, and turned on his heel without any further word. Karin gestured at her daughter. “To your dormitory, young lady; and I should like your servant to escort me to the guest wing. I have some questions for him.” Louise nodded weakly, and Saito moved forward and bowed smartly to the mother of his master.

“If you would be so gracious as to follow me, my Lady.” Much to Guiche, and likely Louise’s, surprise Karin nodded to the young man with a faint smile. At the very least his manner was one she approved of. The two students stood there as their parents left; one alone, the other in the company of her daughter’s familiar.

“... ah. Well, given the circumstances, there’s no need for any punishment. However, in future, I would ask that the both of you ensure one of the staff knows where you have gone before any long outings, hm? Off to bed with you both; I shall ask for dinner to be sent up to you.” Louise nodded and wandered off in a daze as Old Osmond himself moved away muttering about being grilled by the Heavy Wind for an hour straight.

“... Kenneth?”

“Aye, boy?”

“Please don’t hurt my father.”

“... ah shall think 'bout it.”

 

One thing that Guiche had quickly learned about his familiar was that his mere presence caused chaotic surprises in multitudes. On this morning he was to be met with one of them. The youngest son of House de Gramont had awoken earlier than usual as the mere presence of his father in the academy caused a certain restlessness.

It was difficult to quantify how he felt about his father. Which is why he did something that might have otherwise been unwise; he sought out Louise de la Vallière. Sneaking into the girl’s dormitories wasn’t difficult and he wasn’t surprised when knocking on her door shortly revealed a disappointed-looking but fully dressed Louise.

She let him in without asking why he was there and closed the door behind him. There was nobody else around, although the place looked… actually, much cleaner than Guiche’s room. Was that dresser freshly waxed? And, by the Founder, the floors practically shone.

“You know, Guiche, if you’re here for some indecent reason you ought to know that Montmorency was suggesting she might castrate you if you were unfaithful again.” His crotch twinged with phantom pains at hearing such a cruel statement but he persevered with grand resolve! Which is to say, he flopped with his back to a wall and sighed deeply.

“No fear, Miss Vallière. Good Ser Kenneth has informed me that his treatment of me will be no less kind than that should I think to act so ignobly again.” She nodded, relaxing somewhat, and sat down on her bed. The two of them regarded each other glumly for a long, long time until, finally, Guiche broke the silence.

“... when I was seven my father snapped my toy sword, and had me start fencing lessons instead.” There! He’d started them off. They both knew, really, why he’d come. Neither one of them had ever considered the other’s situation until they’d been confronted with the reality of their parents.

“... mother’s hired over a dozen private tutors for me since I started blowing things up.” Guiche nodded sadly. They all made fun of her for that. It felt… wrong, now. He wasn’t sure why. The effort she put in was obvious with how far ahead of him she was in their theory work, so perhaps that was it. She tried so much harder than him and wasn’t even a Dot mage.

“When I was twelve he sold all my books of poetry and replaced them with campaign diaries. He’d quiz me on them over dinner.” Louise shook her head. He imagined that she’d never really thought of him as having any sort of difficulty with his family, either. Why would he? He knew magic.

“She tried to make me ride a manticore last summer.” They stared at each other for a long moment. Then the laughter began. They couldn’t help it; even if it might give them away. It was just so ridiculous that they couldn’t stand it.

“Father just… I think he expects me to be a General as well. My eldest brother is in the military, of course, but Adrien married a minor Germanian noblewoman instead and I suspect Francisque would rather be a painter than a soldier…” Louise nodded. He didn’t talk about his family much, or at all, so he doubted she’d known any of those things.

“I think mother is just afraid for my future. Éléonore is willful, and unlikely to get married; Cattelya is quite sickly, and I’m… a Zero. She’s accomplished so much, and she truly believes we can as well…” Guiche nodded in return. Of course… there may be a fear for the family line, as well, but it seemed more like a simple fear of Louise ending up unmarriageable.

“It’s the opposite, for me. Maximilien is looking to be next in line for Captainship of the Dragon Knights, and is likely to purchase his commission soon, as well. He’ll likely make General even younger than father did…” His brother was superior to him in every way, and his father saw him as nothing more than an idle dreamer.

“You know…” He began

“I’d just…” She continued.

“Give anything to trade with you.” They finished in unison, staring blankly at each other in mute incomprehension for what felt like an age. Louise broke the silence, pointing violently at him as she did so.

“Y-you! But it must be nice, not having that pressure on you, surely?” He responded in kind, bursting to his feet with his eyes wide.

“What is that? And how is it having a parent that actually believes in your potential, eh?” The two of them glared at each other with sparks of rage flying until, quite suddenly, the absolute ridiculousness of the situation.

“To think, a day when I’d be envious of Guiche the Inconstant.” He placed a hand on his chest and staggered back in mock pain. Oh, how she wounded him.

“I could say the same; in what world is it fair that I envy Louise the Volatile?” Further laughter ensued until they finally both managed to settle and stand up with equally cheeky grins on their faces. “That familiar of yours seems good for your temperament, Louise.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yours seems to have given you a sense of humor, Guiche.” No insults. Just an improvement of spirit between the two of them. He hadn’t really known what he’d come here for but it seemed the answer was a certain sense of camaraderie regarding parents who were not, it might be said, the best at what they did but were at least trying.

“Your mother does love you, I am sure; else she wouldn’t spend several hours verbally destroying the Headmaster for losing track of you.” A thoughtful expression came across Louise’s face as she considered that. He found it unlikely that she’d never thought of it herself, of course.

“He must have some faith in you. After all, he did come to see your familiar in person, didn’t he?” That was true. Father had also brought all of the things that Kenneth had asked for, as well. So he was acknowledging the possibility that Guiche had not been taken in.

He smiled at her, and she in turn. The moment last about up until she acquired a smug smirk and rolled her eyes. “You’re still a womanizing fop, Gramont.” His only response was to roll his eyes back at her and chuckle.

“And you’re alright for a magically incompetent menace, Vallière.” Their continued mirth was quite suddenly interrupted by her door opening up. Slowly, the two of them turned to look at the pink-haired woman standing in the doorway. The two teens stared blankly at the adult woman giving the two of them an incomprehensible look. Then she focused on her daughter.

"Louise, I shall be taking your familiar for the day. Meet us in the courtyard after class." Her attention then shifted to Guiche, who squirmed uncomfortably under a stare with an intensity reminded him of the sun itself. "Just make sure that you're prepared to take responsibility."

Then she was gone. They were left stunned in place, trying to parse precisely what had just happened.

"Did... did your mother just make a joke?" Guiche turned to Louise. She was very, very red.

"... I have no idea, but I sincerely hope so." The awkward pause continued until the two of them broke contact simultaneously. Like he would do… that… with Louise the Zero! Hmph. “I think you’d best go now, Guiche.” He nodded. Yes, that was a very good idea.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Kenneth did not have to look like a slovenly madman.

This was the second grand revelation of the day; right behind being able to relate to Louise’s home life. Guiche’s familiar was waiting for him downstairs and was astonishingly smartly dressed. If he was feeling uncharitable he might almost say suspiciously so.

The dwarf smelled a lot less like bacon, as well. Probably due to having actually changed his clothes. He still had the bundled-up stone on his back but that was a given. There was still that odd armour; although Guiche had never really seen it like this. He’d waxed the leather, it seemed, and even given all the little ceramic plates sewn into it a shine. Sort of a scaled design.

“Ser Kenneth…” The dwarf just held up one gauntleted hand and shook his head. His cloak looked a bit odd, what with having arms and all, but… Guiche just nodded. “Thank you.” Kenneth smiled, and it was weird being able to tell he was so easily. Having a clean and re-braided beard did that. The beads woven throughout it clacked together every time he moved his head.

“At least he can look the part of a proper servant.” If he focused, Guiche thought he might just be able to hear his spine tensing. General Armand de Gramont strolled… no, marched out into the courtyard with his burnished breastplate gleaming in the sun. It was some alchemical marvel; a very expensive, very tough alloy that was lighter than steel. He didn’t know the name.

General Gramont looked Kenneth up and down but didn’t say anything else about him. Instead he turned to his son with a look that wasn’t much of anything at all. Not even disappointment. “Your grades are insufficient for you to miss any of your classes, Guiche. Come with me, servant.” He moved past the two of them and as he did Guiche couldn’t help but think that he hadn’t even bothered to tell him to go to class. Why should he have to? His expectations were clear.

And yet Kenneth did not move an inch. It took his father a moment to realize that but, when he did, his expression was unimpressed. “I believe I gave you an order. If there is one thing I do not tolerate from anyone it is insubordination.” Guiche couldn’t help but tremble. Yes, that was certainly true. Yet still… Kenneth did not move.

“Ah think ye’ll find, General, that as per the terms of my contract ah do not take orders from ye.” A calm expression met an increasingly dark one as the two sized each other up. Then the smaller one looked to his boy. “Master Gramont. Is it yer wish that ah attend to yer father t’day?” The look in his father’s eyes was borderline murderous. Guiche knew exactly why. His authority was being challenged, publicly, by a mere commoner. Worse than that, a mere familiar. His son’s, no less.

“Yes. That is to say, I…” Want you to obey him as you would me. But no… that’s not what he wanted, was it? Kenneth was standing up to his father on his behalf. Because he wasn’t… he wasn’t strong enough to do it. He’d never be… or, no… maybe that was… yet? “... wish for you to consider him as you would me.” Words with a very specific meaning. One that his familiar had, perhaps, been waiting for. The dwarf nodded, and stepped smartly in line behind the General; who marched off with a stormy expression and a theatrical twirl of his cape.

Guiche walked away with conflicting feelings of victory and dread fighting for dominance in his chest.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

Karin Désirée de la Vallière née Maillart, often referred to as the Heavy Wind, did not consider herself to be a harsh woman. There was a Law to this world; a mandate of justice and obedience handed down from the very founder of their nation and magic that needed to be upheld. If it was not…

A memory of fire.

The consequences were dire. She tried so very hard to instill certain qualities in her daughters. Ones which should hopefully see them through to a proper future; one where they didn’t have to claw their way into what should be their birthright through a mound of corpses. If she was Steel then they were barely even Iron. It troubled her greatly to know what was out there, and how ill-prepared her daughters were.

Which was why she would not approve this familiar easily. His demeanour was certainly appropriate but he seemed almost too servile. A manservant of that type was rare indeed. That Louise had happened across one, or summoned as the case may be, seemed suspicious to her. So she eyed him carefully as he lead her to the guest quarters.

Really, he did seem a superb servant by all appearances. She couldn’t speak to his combat capabilities but he looked fit enough, and it seemed that he understood the importance of quickly and efficiently obeying orders. Even his appearance was quite proper; she could detect evidence of fresh stitching in the clothing he wore. Was it his skill, she wondered?

His gait was civilian, certainly. Every movement full of openings. Yet… yet even though she knew she could have killed him a dozen times over in the last ten paces something was troubling. It was like looking at an ocean when you knew there was a shark just beneath the waters. A threat you could tell was there on some level and yet lurked unseen.

So, when he opened the door, she slammed him through the open portal with a blast of wind.

To his credit, and she was legitimately surprised, he did notice her motions and even attempted a dodge; to no avail. Instead he was flung through the doorway and slammed into the far wall. Hard. She stepped through and closed the door behind her. One brow raised slightly when he rolled over but did not go to his feet. Instead he assumed a kneeling position, with head bowed.

“What is your name, servant?” First question. Gramont had not given the details of either in his letter; simply informed her of the generalities. Perhaps he had expected her to charge in with raised wand and simply destroy the both of them. Hmf. She might have to give him a refresher course soon; he seemed to be going senile in his age.

“Saito of Vallière, my lady.” That particular response was especially unexpected and doubly aggravating. Yet, even so, she couldn’t help but force down a smirk. He had a certain amount of pluck that she found to be… endearing. Like when that one tiny dog of Cattelya’s attempted to savage her manticore. However; while she could respect that bravery it mustn’t go unsanswered.

“You would presume to call yourself by that name so easily?” Fingers tensed on her wand. He reacted faster than she’d expected. That was her fault; he’d established a baseline earlier when he’d tried to dodge her attack. It must be because of the way he kept throwing off her good judgement; case in point, when he produced a riding crop and held it out above his palms.

“I apologize, my lady; please punish me as you see fit.” Her fingers drummed against her side as she considered him carefully. After a moment she took the crop, but did not move to use it. Although it seemed for a moment that she was deep in thought in reality she was restraining her amusement at the thought of him blindsiding Louise like that. Very droll.

“Stand.” He did so, but did not make eye contact; although he did not make the typical ‘new servant’ mistake of staring at her chestline either. He had his face towards hers but focused resolutely on her chin instead. Interesting. “Remove your shirt.”

Whatever he may have expected no surprise showed on his face. He did so without complaint. She was met with another surprise, beyond that of the lack of reaction. Given his reactions she’d expected a certain amount of scarring, but… “Turn around.” The back was worse. Were those from lashes? She couldn’t quite tell. Very few weapon scars. Most of these looked like they were from animals.

“Redress.” He did so quickly and efficiently. Hm. How old must he be? Not much older than Louise, certainly. She’d rate him at his early twenties at the latest. Very well trained and heavily scarred. Well, she could certainly examine him further. “My armour.” Her arms went up to either side and he moved over smartly.

Obviously he’d never encountered armour like hers before; it was custom made to order, after all. But he did well to find all the little clasps and soon she was just in her travelling clothes. He’d even laid it out in the order he’d removed it to make it easier to put back on. Clever. She sat on the bed and gestured for him to stand before her. The wand-sword she would leave on her belt, but the backup bounced in her hand.

“You will tell me who you are, in totality, and you will be honest. If I suspect you are lying…” She made no specific threat. Part of her doubted her ability to punish him any worse than he had been in the past without actually killing him. Another part of her was simply firm in the belief that he would be honest. After an uncertain pause he took a knee again, a far more comfortable position for him and also one that looked more subservient.

“My lady. I was born to peasantry in the province of Hiraga, in South-Eastern Kagat. My father was a woodsman, my mother passed in childbirth. He died when an accident caused a tree to fall upon him.” Although she hadn’t heard of the lands there was an interesting thing to be taken from his story. No sorrow in his words. He’d never known them, not truly; or at least not well enough to grieve still. A regretful state of affairs.

“As per the law of the land the Lord Hiraga took ownership of me and I became Saito of Hiraga. I was trained as a Ranger; my duty being to patrol my lordship’s land and turn away any bandits or dangerous animals I came across.” Ah. That explained the markings she’d suspected a bear of. Not many of the others.

“Lord Hiraga was a very…” He struggled to seek a word that wouldn’t offend her, no doubt. “Thorough man. He believed in a certain completeness of justice. The failures of his servants reflected upon him; so the failure of one was the failure of all.” Karin’s lips pursed. She did not like this man. To punish all his servants for the incompetence of a single lackey was the height of foolishness.

“I did not ask for your speculations on your prior master. Outline your capabilities.” As he began she thought better of it and held out a hand for him to stop. There was a certain suspicion she had developed. “I have an inkling that you will have a varied skill set which you will claim is merely ‘acceptable’ or ‘sufficient’. Is that correct?” Saito nodded slowly. “Hm. You may go. Attend to me in the morning as you would my daughter, and then we shall go to meet her. I awake a full half hour before her, at least.”

Usually more, but this wasn’t a campaign. Saito of Vallière left without turning his back to her. An impressive servant indeed. Even if his capabilities weren’t up to scratch he might certainly do as a general manservant for Louise. She would not begrudge him the name; really, it was right and proper. He was not one of them, but rather owed himself to them.

She sighed. Then, since nobody was watching, flopped down on her bed in a distinctly unladylike and unprofessional manner. The letter from Marianne sat heavily in her travelling bag. It had not precisely ordered her to come immediately, as such, and her old friend would certainly understand the situation. It likely wasn’t even from the Queen herself; but rather just shoved in front of her to be signed.

Nevertheless. She had, in a way, subverted a royal order. The Rule of Steel bent, but was not broken. Even that was more than she was used to doing. All she could do was hope that it was worth it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

General Armand de Gramont was a decorated military officer. Halkegenia was not a peaceful place. Quite apart from the border skirmishes that tended to crop up with alarming regularity there were the various primitive tribes of orcs, and bandit lords, and wild trolls, and all sorts of other threats. Some advocated leaving such things to wandering adventurers, and ‘heroes’.

Idiocy. Keeping the country safe was his duty. The duty of the military, and of his family. No son of his would be some feckless wanderer roaming the land and beating up bandits for silver. Yet Guiche… he despaired. The boy had potential, certainly, but he persisted in following fantastical notions and simply did not take his studies seriously.

He’d have to purchase a commission for the boy as soon as possible. In one of the knightly orders; they’d whip him into shape. Hopefully. Founder knows he’d certainly tried. It hadn’t taken, it seemed; either that, or this… Kenneth had been subverting his teachings.

His temper had cooled to a mere simmer by the time they reached the wagons with the various items that Guiche had requested. They had not been overly costly, in the end, and he’d simply subtract the costs from his son’s allowance when this all came crashing down. The aggravating little person, who at least had proportions that suggested he wasn’t merely a misshapen human, was following him closely behind.

“Now, you will tell me what you intend to do with all of… this.” The familiar looked at him in a way that continued to rankle for some unknowable reason. Just something in the gaze. Like this fool was judging him.

“Well, ah intend to make somethin’. Armour fer Guiche, a spare weapon fer me, plus a proper bow fer Saito since Guiche promised his friend.” That… all of this, for three items? That couldn’t be true. There were far too many materials! Besides which, all of those odd substances and chemicals couldn’t be useful for that.

The dwarf then legitimately surprised Armand by grasping the front wagon’s crossbar and pulling. He could scarcely imagine the weight; five hundred kilos of clay, plus the two hundred of the anvil, and then the barrels of chemicals! They’d had to stick the metals in a second wagon. Each had needed four draft horses. Yet this person was hauling it along like it was a child’s toy.

That was the beginning of the turning point in Armand de Gramont’s opinions of his son’s familiar. Both wagons were relocated by the dwarf, alone, to a junction of two of the exterior walls right towards the back of the school. The area had been prepared, it seemed; a large hollow some ten metres around had been dug perhaps a meter deep out from the wall. In the side, underneath the wall, there was another small hollow.

One of the teachers was waiting for them there. An unassuming looking man without any hair. Kenneth greeted him warmly and they clasped hands firmly. Interesting. Armand felt like he might almost recognize the man, but he let it slide in favour of watching the demonstration.

“Colbert is here t’help me with th’ clay. Ah’ve made a lil’ oven here, an’ he’ll help me bake up some of th’ bits ah need.” So it began. Kenneth worked the clay quite well, in spite of his gloves, as Armand stood by and observed. At the very least he was a skilled artisan. He also kept taking rough handfuls of some of the chemicals and mixing it through his latest lump of clay. There was a final little hollow right in by the corner that he’d dug out; now he lined it with his treated clay and the flames conjured up by Colbert quickly baked it hard.

Then he hauled it out, carefully, and spun it over so that the Professor could bake the outside. Finally he shoved the dirt pile nearby back into the hole. The reason why he was doing this quickly became… if not entirely clear, at least less obfuscated. Using the spike on the back of his strange reddish axe he began to delicately carve symbols into the inside of the clay hemisphere laid in the ground. The work was slow, and methodical, and Armand recognized none of the runes he was making. Eventually he grew impatient.

“What is the purpose of this? What are you doing here?” Perhaps he could have waited, but right now he just wanted to know. Kenneth didn’t say anything, though, he just kept working with intense focus. Eventually he lifted the bowl up and began to carve around the outside rim as well. Fuming quietly, Armand was forced to simply wait until he was done.

Then there were the bricks. As before he mixed handfuls of chemicals, the General couldn’t identify them individually but the smell was certainly strong, with lumps of clay then worked then into rough squares so that Colbert could fry them in the oven. It was odd; the few things that he knew of ceramics told him that clay cooked that quickly should be weak. Yet, as Kenneth drew each one out of the oven with care, he simply carved a few symbols into the bottom and put them aside.

Finally, he began to make something. The bricks were laid out to form a frame for the bowl. That explained some of the more malformed bricks that had been purposefully shaped to create a depression around the edges for it to rest in. He took even more of the clay, having used up a noticeable amount by now, and mixed it with yet another chemical in order to secure the bricks together with it. When he was done Colbert lightly toasted it, as directed, and Kenneth laid the bowl down.

Then he took three iron ingots and laid them in the bowl. At first, nothing happened. Kenneth hauled the anvil off the cart like it was nothing and laid it in the middle of his workspace so he could use it to shape some more clay to make a mold. He and Colbert were working closely on that while Armand was more focused on the bowl. His curiosity was shortly rewarded.

The iron was melting. Slowly, at first, but getting faster as more of it became liquid. Soon enough there was a bubbling pool of molten metal in the clay bowl; devoid of any visible source of heat. Kenneth seemed to hear it reach that point and hopped out to grab another few ingots o toss in. He finally hauled the barrels of chemicals down, putting them right on the far side from the anvil, oven and molten metal, and took another few handfuls that he then casually tossed right into the pot.

There was immediately a blast of flame that had him leaning back, but he quickly stuck his axe in and started stirring the metal. After a moment he withdrew it, shook the molten metal off and put the glowing yet otherwise undamaged weapon aside to cool. By this point he had Armand’s rapt attention.

The rest of the day was spent making tiny rings out of the odd composite metal that Kenneth had created. He’d also made a second, small, bowl with an actual handle that he used to collect the metal. Whatever runes he’d carved upon it did something as the metal rapidly changed colour while sitting in it.

He also made a number of different components that he worked together as they cooled; the two things he was making slowly coming into being. Firstly there was an oversized crossbow with a strange firing mechanism. Secondly was a bow, of sorts. It seemed to turn in on itself, and he’d never heard of a bow that had wheels in it.

By the end there was a gleaming square of chain alongside the two weapons. On the whole, Armand couldn’t help but be genuinely impressed. While it wasn’t indicative of his martial skills the little man was truly a masterful smith. There were also plenty of materials left over to, perhaps, make other things.

He’d invited Armand to test the armour; which he had done by laying it upon a hastily made training dummy and launching a few stone spikes at it. Kenneth even let him take a shot with his strange crossbow; which had a truly impressive kick to it. To projectiles such as that a mail shirt ought to be nothing more than a collection of holes. Yet, even though the former set of strikes knocked the dummy off its post, there was no penetration.

The fineness of the mail, and not in a poetic sense, couldn’t be overstated. Kenneth had assembled the square as the tiny rings cooled, using a set of jeweller’s tools, with incredible precision. It would, he said, make it more vulnerable to tearing stresses but he had faith in the strength of his work. He was also planning to make a half-plate instead, once Guiche was a little stronger.

Finally, the two of them stood not quite face to face.

“I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t expect much from you. It was my thought that you were simply some con artist with a sob story that my son had bought into.” Kenneth smirked at the backhanded yet ultimately tacit admission that he was a worthwhile familiar. Even if he was saying as such, Armand still found himself irritated by the man’s manner.

“However. I cannot condone the things you have been feeding my son. He is to be soldier, and an Officer; not some lackadaisical wanderer with few prospects and fewer morals.” For a moment the dwarf said nothing. Then he picked up the bow and crossbow, hauled his bundled stone back on to his back, and set off.

“Lemme tell ya a lil’ thing, there, Gen’ral. Y’seem t’have misread yer son.” Armand raised an eyebrow, but allowed the diminutive man to continue. He wasn’t being abjectly offensive… this time. “He’ll be a leader. Tha’s a matter o’ fact. Now, me, ah’d be yer fairly typical ‘lackadaisical wanderer’, right enough. As ah’m sure ye had guessed.” Indeed, he had the demeanour that was typical of that kind.

“But yer son is different. ‘e as a thing ah dinnae. That’d be Charisma, Gen’ral. Ah dinnae have it. People, they won’t follow me. Inspiring ain’t me thing. Intimidating, right enough, ah kin do that. Leading? Nah. Only person who’d follow me is me wife.” Armand allowed himself a raised brow, unable to imagine what squat, dumpy woman a man, or dwarf, such as this may have married. He did not comment upon it, and Kenneth didn’t seem to notice.

“However, ye’ve read him wrong. He doesn’t want t’lead an army; although one’ll certainly follow him. Nay, my lad, he wants to be an army.” That brought Armand right up short, just as Kenneth stopped as well. Standing and watching the doors. “An’ my aim is t’give that t’him. Y’see, Armand, Guiche doesn’t want to be ye.” The doors opened.

“He wants t’be her.”

Followed closely by her daughter’s familiar and the child in question, Karin de la Vallière stepped into the sunlight.