Over the recent days, Justinian has developed a lot more empathy and respect for his father. His father and anyone else who managed their territory personally and with dedication. He also understood those who shirked the duty, passing it off because of its tedium or simple incompetence, though his scorn for the former also grew.

The endless requests for meetings, a constant stream of paperwork detailing plans ranging from wildly impractical, like collapsing every mountain from here to Basetown onto the road in an attempt to blockade it, to simple suggestions that should have long been accomplished, like excavating wells to provide enough water for the new population. What made the last point all the more annoying was that it wasn't even digging a new well.

When the town was first established, an aquifer was created deep in the earth to collect and store water. To ensure the water wasn't tainted, the wells were designed to steadily collect water seeping from the reservoir, allowing the ground to filter it. While the wells were by no means running dry due to a lack of supply, the architects who designed them intended each well to supply certain parts of the town. There was a margin of surplus in case of accidents, but the current supply wasn't enough to support the influx of refugees.

Refugees numbering around seventeen thousand, to be precise. Ten thousand of which came from Basetown, and the other seven trickling in from the small towns scattered throughout the northern part of the mountain range over the last weeks. All of whom needed places to stay, food, and water. Which was the primary source of his headache. The minor nobles leading the villages needed to be put in their place… or so thought Governor Hydrophant.

He wouldn't outright deny the other noble's requests, as that would cause them to gather together in a mob and attempt to cut off his head. However, he had thrown up roadblocks to slow everything down as he asserted his dominance. Anyone who tried to go around him would be beaten or arrested, and those who attempted to work with him were charged exorbitant fees for the simple task of doing his job. And then there was the usage of his land, as he called people collapsing in unused squares after fleeing their homes with only what they could carry.

The governor created an environment where every step was like walking through a mire, and the collective mud weighing you down would eventually make it impossible for you to pick your head up. The knight that Justinian's father left in command of the legionaries protecting the refugees attempted to mitigate the problems, but it was impossible for one of his rank.

In the end, Knight Holder was only a knight, even if he was in direct service to the high noble who ruled these lands. The only leniency his position brought him was that Hydrophant couldn't simply give him orders, as they were technically on the same level being in service to the same lord. However, Hydrophant was within his domain, and he had the right to govern it as he saw fit. At least, that was the case until Justinian arrived.

The door burst open, and Gilbert walked in carrying a trunk under one arm and a tray of food in the other. Tossing the trunk to the side where it fell onto its side, spilling out dozens of rolled-up scrolls, he kicked the door shut, not caring in the slightest at how it slammed shut. Walking up to the desk, the knight set the tray down on the desk and grabbed one of the seats, pulling it back. Plopping into the seat, he picked up a bowl of some stew and started slurping it down loudly, grunting in pleasure.

Folding his hands in front of him over a half-finished letter, Justinian smiled fondly, "You know, if anyone was able to see you now, they would think you were some peasant, not a knight, by how you are eating what I believe is my food."

"Hey," The young knight said, lifting his spoon and pointing it at the high noble, a mock affronted scowl on his face. "I told the servants to give us enough for two; you should be thanking me for bringing it to you."

"Ahh, yes," Justinian said, giving a little dip of his head in acknowledgment. "Your benevolence in getting a free meal is simply inspiring. If only more were like you, the world would be a better place."

"It feels good to finally be acknowledged for my hard work. I was beginning to fear for the future of the Fridgia Family as its heir was blind." The other man even stopped his meal to mimic wiping a nonexistent tear from his cheek.

"Well… when you put it that way, I wouldn't want to deprive you of a just reward. Since you have all but already taken over the room with your sheer presence, maybe I should just leave this paperwork and decisions to you as the fruits of your long labor."

Gilbert's soup seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe at that comment, and he was hasty to shuck his mask of the self-sacrificing martyr as he held up one hand, the other pounding on his chest. "Whoa there! Let's not be hasty now. I worked long and hard to claim my right to ignore obligations; you are not going to take it from me now."

"Ahh, right," Justinian said, grabbing a loaf of bread and ripping it in half to dip it into his stew. "I forgot the only thing you work for is less work."

"And I'm damn proud of it." Joked back to the other man as they fell into a comfortable silence while eating their food.

After settling back in his chair, Justinian could no longer ignore the chest in the room, and he finally asked, "What is he whining about this time?"

"He is claiming that as we are within his lands, he should be the one to distribute the supplies. Something about how they are meant to aid his people, so it falls under his jurisdiction, blah blah blah. I wasn't paying that much attention when the servant handed it over."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Have there been any sightings of beastkin?" Justinian asked, his voice falling somewhere between pleading and fearful. Honestly, the young man wasn't sure where he fell on the issue, but he did know that he couldn't take much more of dealing with this petty noble. And that wasn't meant to be the slight against minor nobles that some of the higher ones used. It was simply a descriptor of the governor and was entirely justified in Justinian's opinion.

"No," Gilbert responded, suddenly growing serious. "This entire situation is wrong, Justinian. Nothing is how it should be."

"I feel the same… However, there is nothing we can do but prepare. Reinforce the defenses, stock supplies, and train. Just as Olimpians have always done. What? You disagree?"

"Justinian," His friend sounded cautious, but the stubborn set of his jaw told the high noble he was determined to continue speaking. "You should reconsider sending the refugees farther south."

"What?" The Justinian hissed, the snap of wood filling the room as the spoon he held broke when he clenched his hand too hard. "Are you suggesting that I abandon my people? That I should shove the hassle of providing to them onto another? That I can not protect them?"

Unmoved by the hostility directed at him, the Fridgian Knight replied calmly, "No, that isn't what I meant at all. Gossip and murmurs they may have been, but the actions — or lack thereof — by the beastkins have reinforced the hearsay. They are not exhibiting the mindless instincts we are expecting. For months now, we have heard rumors from the Triad, and they are starting to look like more than just rumors. We must prepare for us not being able to hold against an intelligence force a hundred times our size, even with all the advantages the narrow tarran gives us."

"So you would have me shirk my duty. I promised my father I would protect our people. Am I so incompetent that I can't fulfill such a simple task?"

"Ha!" Gilbert released an incredulous bark of laughter that only caused Justinians anger to flare higher. The knight swept his arm out, motioning to everything around them as he continued. "You call this simple? No one else could have made it here with even this much. How did you get the coins to pay the mercenaries? You sold your stakes in a river merchant's ship that you practically founded for a pittance. Then, you embraced a shame that will stick to you and your descendants until the last days of the Republic. Why? Because every noble house between here and Olimpia refused to offer anything but the barest support. They see everything as an opportunity to feast on the corpse of your house. No one cares if what they see as nothing more than a couple thousand beastkins slip past the Weeping Mountains, so long as the Fridgians fall."

"You have a point anywhere in that little speech?"

"Yeah. There is a threat, and you are doing your best to confront it and perform your duty. Many would have never tired or already given up. Don't belittle or undermine your efforts."

"And how am I doing that."

"By thinking that you can control the outcome of what is coming. You can influence it, and you should do your very best to do so; otherwise, you really will be letting down your father. If you think you are the arbiter of fate and you ultimately fail, you are undermining the effects of your own efforts. Sometimes, nothing you can do will change what is coming, a lesson you haven't learned properly given your tendency to exceed expectations."

Justinian felt the anger building within his chest and flowing into his body. A thought in the back of his mind told him it wasn't really directed at Gilbert but at the situation. And an even smaller voice whispered that the knight was just telling him what he thought he needed to hear…

However, it was hard not to lash out with his psy and flatten the man against the wall for his audacity. The knight's resolved face told Justinian he was aware of the internal struggle, giving him enough willpower to regain his self-control. "I appreciate the thought." Justinian ground out. "But I will not support the citizens fleeing. You are right; I am doing my best, but part of that is demanding the best from my future subjects. Every man, woman, and child supports a legion with their psy when a situation becomes desperate. It would be a disgrace for me to demand less from my people."

Gilbert's jaw clenched in irritation. However, all he did in response was bow his head. "So be it, Milord. I only wished to ensure you were thinking everything through."

"I appreciate that." Justinian forced out, making himself remain civil. "It is the reason I bothered to keep your lazy ass around."

His lips quirked as his body relaxed, and Gilbert said, "Always nice to know where you sta—

The door burst open, and one of the few surviving 13th Legion legionaries rushed forward. "Lord, a flock of several hundred beastkin have been spotted approaching Ironhold!"

Not waiting for anything further, Justinian sprang to his feet, his body thrumming with power as he instinctually reinforced himself. The world seemed to slow around him, though he knew it was just that he was thinking so fast that it appeared that way. As he moved, the high noble expanded his perpetually extended perception sphere with a thought, mentally mapping his path out of the building.

Faster than normal human eyes could process, but not faster than his enhanced mind back by the omniscient sphere could perceive, he was through the room and out the door of his new residence in seconds. Stepping onto the street, he crouched before leaping a couple hundred feet into the air, partially assisted by a tendril pulling up on his harness.

Hanging in the air above the fortress town, Justinian released a pulse that would spread for miles as he watched the beastkin circling just outside of the bow range of those on the wall. At his sudden appearance, a cry of challenge sounded, and a ball of fire as large as his chest streaked from the birds hurtling toward the human.

The young man batted the fireball away with a twitch of his wrist and a flicker of psy, but it did cost him almost a quarter of an orb to do so. A ridiculously large amount of psy for something so trivial. Wanting to respond in kind to the attack, Justinian never got the chance as the birds turned and quickly flew away.

He still remained in the sky for long minutes, waiting for them to return, but they never did. And that set off every alarm in his head, as it defied every truth he knew about the creatures. Which could only mean…

Dropping to the ground and the waiting Gilbert, Justinian turned and started marching down the road, his face blank. "Where are we off to in such a hurry?" His eternal shadow asked, a slight gasp in his voice after his rush to catch up.

"The time to play games is over," Justinian stated. "I fear you have just been proven right about the rumors." For once, his friend didn't have much to say as he nodded in disappointed agreement.

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