Afternoon found Prince Dustin and his band of soldiers resting atop a grassy precipice in the Vtusenian Highlands. While some of the men nibbled on dried meat or fruit, others had already done so and occupied themselves with cleaning and sharpening weapons instead. And of course, three troops served as sentries to keep the camp secure.

Dustin himself polished his sword after a good cleaning. He sat on an angular rock with a sloped face that forced him to plant his heels into the ground in order not to slide forward. With the direct sunlight beaming down on his blade, Dustin couldn't help but spot all the dings and dents in his weapon after three years of war.

Dustin's father had succeeded in causing the majority of the Innutukian Empire to crumble away in a week or two, with some pieces taking a few months to break off instead. Even so, the heartland continued fighting to regain lost ground, and her allies lent their strength too. The majority of the liberated territory had been put in good hands since, but the most grueling aspect of the war was that which Dustin had been given charge of—cleaning up the stragglers.

Hundreds—if not thousands—of smaller cells scattered themselves across the former Innutukian provinces, groups of soldiers ranging from a dozen to a few hundred. The Reformation Wars of the past had been simpler by comparison, with two massive armies standing against one another and engaging to defend the honor of their respective countries, but this was different. Hunting down stragglers was wearying work, and Dustin had lately begun to feel the strain.

He glanced up from his sword for a second and beheld a regretful view in the plains below their vantage point. The capital city of Vtusen had been sacked. Half the city had been burnt, and the other had suffered the ravishing of Innutukian soldiers. It was those vile men Dustin had been tasked with eradicating, and after days of tracking them through the nearby forests, he and his men had finally succeeded. Every single one of the Innutukian marauders had been exterminated.

The prospect of becoming a knight and waging war against Monterayne's enemies had once exhilarated Dustin. He'd devoted himself wholly to his training in order to attain the honor. But three years of war had worn much of that enthusiasm down. Justified or not, his hands dripped with the blood of countless men, and he'd witnessed his countrymen perish in the most horrifying ways possible. Many days, he pressed on with only a cold sense of duty fueling his strength.

A rustling sound over his shoulder drew Dustin's attention, and he glanced back to see his closest friend Jude Holt approaching. These days, Jude carried himself with a certain gravitas he'd shied away from in younger years. No longer did he insist on keeping his face clean-shaven; the golden beard lining his jaw gave him a distinguished edge he wore well. The hint of a scar peeking out from under the eyepatch on the left side of his face spoke to the fact he'd endured his share of the trials of life and still prevailed.

Jude carefully seated himself on a stone across from Dustin and laid his bow down on the ground. The two old friends exchanged a smile momentarily, but then for a while, they sat silently together. It seemed the longer they spent together, the more subtle their friendship. Now they could quietly enjoy the other's presence without need for words to be uttered.

Then came the noise to break up the silence. Their inventive companion Kyle Korynn dropped a bag on the ground to Dustin's right and plopped down in the grass with a loud sigh. Dustin peeked at his caramel-skinned companion for a moment with an amused grin on his face.

"Sure is a relief to have those men dealt with." Kyle said, picking a bit of debris out of his curly black hair, "I can't be the only one who was gettin' a bit tired of tracking just five Innutukians for days when there's so many more out there."

"Justice must needs be thorough." Dustin muttered thoughtfully, "All who take part in a crime must taste of the consequences."

Kyle pointed out to the wrecked capital city below their vantage point with heaviness in his gaze. "And what a crime they did...all for an empire that doesn't exist."

"It seems most Innutukians are like Dustin." Jude jested, "To live with defeat seems to be a fate worse than death for their kind."

Dustin shrugged. "Personal defeat is far different from the defeat they've suffered. Theirs is the more irrational variety, where they labor endlessly to uphold a crown that rules them no longer."

"To me, the distinction is somewhat arbitrary."

"All the same, their motive matters little to me. Those men ruined a town and slew hundreds, so it was incumbent on us to remedy the matter."

"Which we definitely did." Kyle said, "We're heading home after this, right? Or do we have some other objective along the way?"

Dustin paused for a moment before answering. His ear had snagged on the word 'home', as in Kyle's case, it had been the first time he'd referred to Monterayne as such, rather than his birthplace in the wildlands. He couldn't help a smile spreading to his cheeks upon noticing the shift.

"Did you hear me, Dus—why're you smiling like that?"

Dustin shook his head, rising to his feet in order to sheathe his weapon easier. "It's nothing. But yes, we're heading back home for some well-deserved rest."

"Quite well-deserved." Jude agreed.

"It'll be nice to see Cassie again." Kyle remarked, glancing up quickly at Dustin once he'd said it. He appeared relieved upon receiving an understanding nod. "I'd guess we all have someone back home we're eager to spend some time with."

"Probably not Jude," said Dustin, casting a mischievous glance back at their one-eyed friend, "but the rest of us, yes. Serena's words are far more pleasant to hear in person than to read on parchment, I can assure you that much."

"It's a shame poor Jude hasn't tasted our struggle."

Jude shook his head on the two. "I write my mother when time allows, and I experience the same hollow feeling upon receiving her replies. Something does seem to become lost as the ink dries."

"So you're not a complete stranger. Of course, there's something about courting a woman through letters when you only recently learnt to read that gets frustrating."

"Precisely why I've chosen to remain unencumbered until this war runs its course."

Dustin chuckled. "I do find there is something comforting even in the most difficult trials of battle, in knowing you have a lady whose prayers go out for you. Having a lady yearn for your return and watching her face alight with gladness when you do...you are missing out, Jude."

"I'm sure I am. Well, since Kyle's courting your sister and you're courting my cousin, how may I complete the loop?"

Kyle nearly choked on his laughter. "Sorry to say, but I've got nobody for you. If I have any cousins, I don't know them."

"What a grievous shame."

"You do realize, Kyle," Dustin said, leaning over as if indulging some conspiracy, "he actually would favor a woman of darker complexion. Just think about it."

"You're not wrong." Kyle agreed. "Remember the Jasmidian chieftain's daughter?"

"Of course I do; he couldn't keep his eyes off her for a moment."

"I hope you two realize you can be rather foolish." Jude protested, visibly amused but playing his role in the joke, "Her accent was so thick I had no choice but to hang onto every word."

"Oh, that's why you were staring at her lips. I believe you wholeheartedly."

Jude dismissed the two with a wave of his hand. "You two can have your laugh. I, for one, believe it time we resume our travels. It's a long way to your lady friends, and I know how you both yearn so to read their lips."

Kyle smirked. "I'm done with reading; that's the whole difficulty here."

"All the same," Dustin said, rising to his feet, "Jude is right. We should head back. Sixteen days is still some time, but we will have returned to Monterayne in that time if we move swiftly."

****

A solitary figure arrayed in charcoal gray military garb treaded the streets of a quiet Innutukian fishing village. Scarlet cape shimmering behind him, the man made his way down to the coast where mighty waters lapped over the sands of the beach. Having recently returned from an unsuccessful attack on the borders of Antapeńo's Glacier Coast to the east, he sought a place to clear his thoughts and find inner peace.

Paulo Feliz found himself equal parts gratified and discontented at his current place in life. On the one hand, his teacher Lord Tanuk had pronounced him a master in swordsmanship, an honor accompanying his military promotion to the rank of commander. Though the opportunity rarely showed itself, given Paulo usually still served under Tanuk, the authority was his to lead a small group of troops, especially to accomplish more covert objectives.

That said, Innutukian soldiers had been moving in smaller groups across the board as of late. The mighty legions of old had almost been rendered extinct by the old Empire's many defeats and her vast loss of territory. Thanks to Monterayne's meddling and Alconte's antagonism, not to mention Antapeño's ambition, only the heartland remained. These days, being an Innutukian commander meant little.

None of this would have come to pass were it not for the Rickland family sitting on the throne of Monterayne, which only added further fuel to the fire of Paulo's wrath against their bloodline. Tanuk had raised Paulo well in his father's stead, but the fact remained both his true parents would still be alive if not for the treachery of Manfred Rickland, the king of Monterayne.

Tanuk's entire demeanor had changed every time he'd retold the grievous tale over the years. Manfred and Paulo's father Andre had once been friends as close as brothers, until for one reason or another, Manfred betrayed him. Tanuk didn't seem to know what the motive had been; he'd speculated it had been over the affections of Katherine Alder who now stood at his side as queen, or perhaps removing competition for his own advancement in the army. But whatever the reason, Manfred had slain Paulo's father in cold blood, and then his mother had passed away, fatally wounded by the grief of her husband perishing.

Paulo simmered as his boots sunk into the sand at the edge of the beach. The Ricklands had taken everything from him. Even now, Manfred's son Dustin rampaged across the former territories of the Empire to destroy the scattered forces of Innutuk, clearly bent on wrecking the world Paulo had once known. Paulo himself bore a lengthy scar on his chest, inflicted by the crown prince of Monterayne, which served as an ever-present reminder of the Ricklands who had so wronged him.

"Excuse me..." a female voice called from behind, causing Paulo to spin about. He found himself peering at an aging woman with faded blonde hair and light blue eyes that danced over his face in wonderment. Hand over her heart, her lips moved to form words, but she didn't utter them.

"Can I help you?" Paulo asked with a quirked brow.

"I can't believe it..." the woman murmured, "...Is your name Paulo?"

"Yes it is. I'm Paulo Feliz, son of Lord Andre Feliz. Do I know you?"

"You don't, and that's the shame. My goodness, you look just like him..."

Paulo's forehead creased as his confusion grew. "Clearly I need enlightenment. Who are you?"

"My name is Scaraleten; I'm your mother."

Moving on impulse, Paulo lunged forward and threw his arms around the woman. A host of emotions whirled through his breast as he tightened the embrace and she reciprocated. He reveled in her warmth, of the opportunity to finally touch his mother. The brush of her hands on his back sent chills down his spine.

Once the tidal wave of contentment receded a little, Paulo's thoughts darkened. He didn't miss the contradiction in his arms; Lord Tanuk, the man who had raised and trained him all his life, had told him at least one massive lie. He'd claimed Paulo's mother had died in his infancy from the grief of losing her husband, but yet here she was. When they next met, Tanuk would have much to answer for.

But for the time being, Paulo held his mother tight and basked in her presence. He had over two decades of catching up to do with the woman who had brought him into this world. 

**** 

A/N: There we have it, a bit of a check-in on our more central characters. Wearied warriors on the one hand, and a jarring reunion on the other. If you're enjoying so far, please do kindly click (or tap) the star to vote, and also leave some comments! 

To address the big question we're left hanging with at the end of the chapter, what're your thoughts on Tanuk, Paulo, and the rest? Why has he told Paulo all these years that he has nobody in the world, when his mother's still kicking? I'm interested to hear (or rather, see) your thoughts.

Moving forward, I think I'll continue doing Monday evenings for updates, and I'm in PST, so check in around then each week for a new chapter! Thanks for reading this far, and I look forward to seeing you again this time next week!