The Red Cloaks were hard at work with assisting Celosia with plans on Felix and the Shadow. Emily was hoping Samson would finally take her to the Town of Brookbridge for a sword.

Emily had been listening to Samson teach her about better etiquette in general. This wasn't hard to grasp, but she found herself teasing Samson from time to time, which he didn't seem to mind too much? They were friends at this point, that much had been established.

On the other hand, Celosia was not budging with the whole right-hand man matter. She was much too concerned with what to do with Felix than having another person to keep an eye on. That person being Emily.

She tied the laces on her boots and pulled her cloak on. Samson claimed he would be taking her to the Town of Brookbridge to finally get a sword. Emily had to admit she was limited regarding the places she traveled to. She had never heard of or visited the Town of Brookbridge, so this day was quite exciting for her. She met Samson in the hallway.

"Thank goodness we're finally going. I would look pretty stupid if Celosia approves of me and I don't have a sword," Emily said.

Samson started walking. "That's not true."

Emily raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Of course not. You would look stupid even if you did have a sword," Samson replied, stifling a laugh.

Emily let out a fake laugh. "Oh, my goodness, Samson. You are sooooo funny. Really, you're absolutely hysterical."

They continued down the stairs.

"As I much as I want to go, can we eat breakfast first?" Emily asked.

"Fine."

Emily cringed at the contents being piled on her plate. She followed Samson over to their usual seats. Emily picked at the food, or at least, the supposed food.

"You're supposed to eat it, not play with it," Samson said.

"Even you know this stuff is gross. It gets worse every day," Emily replied. She tried picking up a piece of food and it splattered back onto the plate. "Are you seeing this?"

Samson couldn't help but cringe at the sight of the gross slop on their plates. Nevertheless, she still managed to eat all of it, gagging at the end.

"Man, we really need to find some actual food in this place," she said.

Samson leaned back in his seat. "You complain a lot, but I don't see you doing anything about it. You need to be content with what you have."

Emily glanced left and right, and seeing no one was looking at them, she turned back to Samson.

"Come with me. Brookbridge can wait for a moment," Emily said.

Samson frowned at her. "What are you doing?"

"Doing something about the food," Emily answered. She continued toward the kitchen. The kitchen door creaked open and Emily hopped over the counter.

"You're an idiot, you know that? You are going to get us in trouble," Samson hissed.

"Relax. No one saw us. And is that any way to talk to someone who's about to get us some food?" Emily shot back, giving Samson a cheeky grin as she crept closer to another door.

"You really are my worst apprentice," Samson groaned.

"You don't mean that," Emily said as she swung open the door. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

The door led both of them into a large pantry which was lined with mountains of cheese, bread, and the back of the pantry was stocked with meat. Samson reached the door and almost had the same reaction as Emily did. They both stood there, frozen at the doorframe. They gawked at the abundant amount of real food which filled the pantry. Emily found herself wandering deeper into the pantry. She could hear Samson's footsteps behind her.

"This, they have all of this food here. Why would they keep it from us?" Samson asked. His parents, since he was baby, had raised him to be devoted solely to the Red Cloaks. Samson had met the Shadow on many occasions and was eventually taken at the age of seven to start training. The Shadow had in fact, been his personal trainer.

That being said, Samson had been taught that the Red Cloaks were always right and knew what they were doing. That had been ingrained in his brain. But now he was seeing this; how all of this food had been kept from them, and for what reason? Samson constantly tried his hardest to agree with what the Red Cloaks were doing, but that in itself was a challenge.

"Samson!" Emily called out.

Samson snapped out of his thoughts to see Emily watching him from a few feet ahead.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

Samson waved her off. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Want me to make you a sandwich? Then we can head for Brookbridge," Emily suggested.

She didn't wait for Samson to reply and began to pick a loaf of bread, grabbed some ham, and then found cheese. She handed Samson the sandwich she made.

"Now, let's go before anyone sees us," she said, making sure no one was watching as they left the kitchen.

They made their way to the stables, all the while keeping their sandwiches hidden from the rest of the Red Cloaks.

"It will take us around a day to make it to Brookbridge," Samson said, leading his horse, Olly, out of the stable.

Emily found a horse named Clover and led her out of the stable as well. Emily shielded her eyes from the bright outdoors. Even with the weather being cloudy, she had forgotten what it was like to step outside.

  Blood rushed to her cheeks as snow began to swirl around her and Samson. Horse hooves clicked on the cobblestone placed throughout the town. The Town of Brookbridge was a fairly small town, with fairly small houses. Emily immediately took notice of the lack of people roaming around. This of course, wasn't exactly surprising considering the bitter cold weather. Emily could have sworn her fingers were beginning to turn blue, as they were the only thing not covered in warmth.

She gently ran her fingers through Clover's white mane. Clover was a beautiful creature, or Emily at least thought she was. Every inch of her was pure white, the color of a shiny white pearl. Emily's brow furrowed when she heard Clover's heavy breathing, and Olly's from beside her.

Emily began to shake as more snow gathered and twirled down from the clouds. Her fingers were chilled, numb even. She glanced over at Samson, who already appeared much warmer than she did. He somehow acquired gloves, which Emily was wishing she had now.

"We will take the horses to the inn before we fetch your sword," Samson told Emily, voice unwavering even in the cold.

Emily even struggled to mumble a response, her lips were frozen and sealed shut. Her eyes watered as a gust of icy wind slashed at her. She longed for a nice, crackling fire. She longed for a decent bed to sleep in and a shelter to protect her from the cold, but then again, she also wanted a sword.

  "This is it," Samson stated, hopping down from Olly and pulling the reigns.

Emily did the same. Both of them trudged through the snow, boots crunching the snow with each step. The stable and inn were right next to each other. Light came from a few windows of the inn, and Emily already felt warmer at the sight of it.

Samson swiveled to her and handed her Olly's reigns. "Take the horses to the stable and meet me inside afterwards."

Emily watched him go inside the inn and then she guided the horses to the stable. The wooden stable door screeched open and slammed behind her. There was a stable boy sweeping hay at the far end of the stables. His expression darkened once he saw Emily's red cloak.

"My horses need two stalls," Emily began.

The boy avoided eye contact. "Well my stalls don't need your horses."

Emily raised her eyebrows. "What's with all of this aggression?" She bit her tongue as soon as the question left her mouth. She forgot she was wearing the red cloak.

The stable boy scoffed at her and stopped sweeping. "Aggression? Are you serious? My family is in enough trouble right now as it is, and we do not need you Red Cloaks barging in here. None of you care to spare any coins, or any respect for that matter!"

"Have you ever seen me here before?" Emily asked, tilting her head.

The boy finally gave her his full attention as he observed her.

"No, I haven't," he answered.

"Exactly," Emily said as she opened the bag she had been carrying. She pulled out her bag of coins. Four coins would definitely be enough for the boy and his family to have a few meals.

The boy raised his eyebrows as Emily pulled four coins out of the bag. Olly snorted in her ear.

"I know how you feel. People who wear these cloaks have nothing to be proud of," Emily said, leaving her horses behind as she approached the stable boy. "I'm not proud of myself, but please take the coins."

The stable boy was frozen in place, and his eyes were locked on Emily's outstretched hand with the coins on it.

"Please take them. It should help pay for you and your family for a few meals. I know it's not much, but—"

"I don't want your pity," the stable boy muttered.

Emily laughed quietly. "I don't pity you. Think of it as a peace offering."

The stable boy's hand trembled as he took the coins from Emily. He didn't thank her, but Emily was not expecting one anyway. He brushed past her to take Olly and Clover to two empty stalls. Emily turned to leave, but she looked at the boy one more time.

"Hey kid. What's your name?" she asked.

The boy looked at her. "Hayes." He paused. "Yours?"

Emily smiled. "Emily. Remember it, okay?"

Not waiting for an answer, she left the stable and went outside again. She rushed to the inn through the arctic wind and slammed the door behind her. Samson was waiting for her at the front.

"You took a while," he said.

Emily scoffed. "I didn't."

"You did."

"Once again, I didn't."

"All you had to do was put the horses in the stable. Why did you take so long?" Samson asked.

"There was this kid in there," she began.

"You didn't talk to him, did you?"

"Samson, what else was I supposed to do? He hated me because I'm wearing this," Emily snapped, gesturing to her red cloak.

Samson rolled his eyes.

"Did it ever occur to you that people have real feelings? I mean this kid was utterly terrified that I was going to come in and steal everything he and his family had. He's never even seen me before because I'm new, but he's still scared of me because of what I'm wearing," Emily said, pointing a finger in Samson's face. "Considering I will eventually be Celosia's right-hand man; I think you at least owe me an explanation of what exactly the intentions of the Red Cloaks are."

"Emily, is this really necessary?" Samson asked.

"Of course. How am I supposed to do anything if I am unsure of the goals of the Red Cloaks?" Emily answered. "I want the truth, and then I will let it go."

Samson sighed. "I would tell you the intentions of the Red Cloaks, but—"

"But what?" Emily asked.

"But I don't know what they are!"

Emily's eyes widened.

"Most of us don't actually," he continued.

"But, but, if that's the case," Emily stuttered. "Then you're just blindly following Celosia without any justifiable reason to?"

"Isn't that what you're doing? And don't play this game with me, okay? My parents are the ones who sent me here. I didn't choose to come here. Let me remind you that you were all proud of yourself because you chose to come here on your own accord. Well guess what? Most people don't have that option," Samson snapped.

  And there was the truth. The truth came out clear as day. Even if Samson didn't think he just spilled something personal, he did. Emily now knew he was just like most of the Red Cloaks, forced to be there without choice. No wonder people hated her there too. She came in, bragging about choosing to come. Of course, it's not like she actually wanted to be there, but she had been too proud of her own skills. It took Samson a moment before he realized what he had actually said.

"Emily, that came out wrong. I didn't mean that. Please don't turn me in," Samson suddenly blurted, eyes wide.

"You think I'm going to turn you in?" Emily snorted. "What kind of friend would I be if I did that?" She suddenly began to tread on thin ice. "Say, hypothetically speaking, I told you I didn't want to be either and I was just doing it to break down the Red Cloaks one day at a time, what would you say to that?"

Samson sat down on a bench in the main hall, patting the seat next to him. Emily inched carefully toward the seat.

  "If—hypothetically speaking, you told me that, I wouldn't blame you."

Emily's eyes widened. "What?"

"I said I wouldn't blame you. I mean," Samson paused.

"Go on," Emily said.

"I mean, I've been there for ten years, and I don't even know why we do what we do. So, hypothetically speaking, I wouldn't blame you for doing that."

They sat in silence before Samson spoke up again.

"What you said, wasn't hypothetical, was it?"

Emily froze. Her eyes finally met Samson's, and she was sure her expression already gave her answer away.

"And I suppose your answer wasn't hypothetical either, was it?" she asked.

"I suppose not."

Both of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Well, the secret's out. You going to turn me in?" Emily asked.

"A moment ago, you told me you wouldn't turn me in for what I said. How can I turn around and do the opposite?"

Emily's expression hardened. "Because you're a Red Cloak."

"You think I'm like them?"

"You used to be," Emily answered. "But I do trust you."

"Would you like to go get your sword?" Samson asked.

"Still? After everything we just talked about?" Emily questioned, tilting her head.

"You are still the Phoenix."

He was right. She still was. This wasn't Samson avoiding the conversation. This was Samson helping her despite knowing her secret. But now she knew his. It seemed as if they were in this together, so with a shaky breath, Emily nodded.

"Pull your hood back over your head. Weather's pretty bad."

"Thanks," Emily replied, lifting the hood over her head as they stepped out into the cold.

"By the way," Samson started. "I should warn you about—"

His voice was cut off by the howling of the wind. When he realized this, he gave up and decided it was pointless. They were already there anyway. A rush of warm air hit both of their faces when the door opened.

Emily let out a horrified shriek as a flash of brown and white flew past her. Against her better judgement, she climbed onto Samson's shoulders.

"Get down," he hissed.

"No way, that dog is huge!" Emily yelped; arms tightly wrapped around Samson as she kept a close eye on the dog running around the small seating area.

"He won't hurt you. Just please get down from my shoulders," Samson said.

Emily slowly climbed down from Samson's shoulders and hid behind him as the dog came closer. Its tail spun around like a pinwheel as it licked Samson's hand.

"Hold out your hand," Samson said.

"But what if I don't want to?" Emily said in return, practically digging her nails into Samson's back.

"You will be fine," Samson said, moving away so they were standing next to each other.

He moved Emily's hand out to the dog, who was still wagging its tail at them. Emily stiffened when the dog moved its nose to sniff her hand. She gradually became more relaxed when the dog licked her hand.

"He's cute," Emily muttered, gently petting the dog. "What's his name?"

"Bear."

"Are you serious?" Emily coughed, trying not to laugh.

"I mean, isn't the name fitting? He's as big as a bear," Samson said. "Besides, I'm not the one who named him."

  Emily turned to Samson. "Oh really? Have you ever had a dog?"

Samson shook his head.

"Well, if you ever had one, then what would you name it?" she asked.

"Oh, well," Samson said, pausing when the question caught him off guard. "I would name it Dakota."

"So, you have thought about this?" Emily said.

Samson returned to scratching Bear behind his ears, ignoring Emily's question. "Bear's a good boy isn't he?" 

"Never knew you had a soft spot for dogs," Emily murmured, petting Bear.

Samson heard her and stopped petting Bear. "We should find Mr. August."

"Can we come back to Bear later?" Emily asked.

"Possibly."

They left Bear in the seating area and Emily followed Samson to the back of the room. He knocked on the door.

"What exactly are we doing?" Emily questioned.

"Waiting."

The door swung open, and there stood a large man, holding a sword in his hand. Both Emily and Samson took a few steps back as the man closed the door behind him.

"Good evening Mr. August," Samson started.

"Where's the Phoenix?" Mr. August asked, ignoring Samson's greeting.

Emily found herself being pushed in front of Samson, and seconds later she was looking up at Mr. August, who was clearly a foot taller than her.

"They couldn't pick someone taller?" Mr. August growled.

Emily started to notice a pattern with people insulting her height, and she was frankly beginning to grow tired of it. Samson put his hands on her shoulders.

"She fairly won her spot in the Placement," Samson said.

That's right. I did. Emily knew she did. But a wave of guilt washed over her when she realized she had now burdened both Finley and Samson with keeping her secret.

"Here to pick up her sword?"

Samson nodded in return, holding the door open for Emily as they both walked in. Mr. August picked up a long object wrapped in cloth, which Emily assumed was her sword. Samson nudged her forward again as Mr. August held it out to her.

"In the letter it said your birthday was in July, so I gave you the ruby stone as the crown jewel of the sword," Mr. August explained.

Emily took it in both hands and unwrapped the cloth. Right below the blade, there was a ruby jewel in the center, and it shimmered as Emily rotated the sword.

"Wow," she gasped, finally gripping it in her hand.

"Similar reaction to most people who come here," Mr. August said.

"I-I don't know what to say. I mean, thank you. It's beautiful," Emily said.

"Doesn't matter how pretty it is. The point is that it's useful. And I made it, so it should be."

"Still, thank you," Emily said.

"I will probably be seeing you again eventually, I assume," Mr. August said to Samson.

"Eventually," Samson answered as he and Emily went to exit.

Emily gripped the sword in her hand on the way and Samson glanced at her.

"What?" she asked him.

"Do you have a problem with people making comments about your height?"

"Oh, more than I should. It's dumb. It is."

Samson stopped them at the doorway, Bear running by them once again.

"I have a suggestion. You're around five feet tall, right?"

Emily frowned. "Yes, but why are you asking—"

"Carry yourself as if you were taller than that. Don't be unsure of yourself. Do that, and no one will question your height again."

Emily thought about it as they walked back to the inn, and Samson was right. All at once, Emily tightly gripped the hilt of her sword and stood up tall.

Maybe she was only five feet tall, but she was going to carry herself like she was six.

-------------------------------------------------------

Note: So that was Chapter Fourteen! If there are any characters you think stand out or if you have any feedback, feel free to let me know. Once again, thank you for reading my story so far!

-IML