Traven sat on the fur rug in the middle of the family room, right in front of the hearth and next to Rhea’s chair. Heat from the fire soothed his aches. A few days of seemingly nonstop activity and injury were taking their toll. When he showed Mina his gift for Rhea before their meal, they both agreed to take it easy and focus on Mina’s abilities instead of physical combat for a few nights.

He earlier asked if she wanted to take the night off entirely, but Mina flatly refused, saying she would explain her reasons when they were alone. She seemed bothered and distant while she prepared the fillets from Alys for dinner, but he conceded. He checked in on her a few times while everyone was settling in, not directly saying anything more to her until after the meal when he insisted on clearing and cleaning their plates himself. She then appeared happy and like her usual self, and he knew it was no issue between the two of them.

Still, he worried about her.

Even when things were good, even when life was going well, the worry was never too far.

Something must have happened.

Traven looked up from his spot by the fire. Mina walked in with a wrapped fabric bundle in her hand.

Rhea looked over to her. “Ah, there she is! Don’t tell me that’s mine, child. You’re all spoiling me!”

Mina laughed lightly and affirmed, “Of course this is for you.”

She walked to the table next to Rhea and added her gift to the small pile. Rhea didn’t let her pass by without an embrace and kiss on the cheek. Mina gently kicked at Traven’s left leg to make him move it so she could join him on the floor next to the fire. He didn’t much mind.

Traven looked to his left at Mina. Mina looked back. He grinned a bit. She grinned more broadly and closed her eyes. A real smile. She was genuinely happy.

He turned to Rhea and called out, “Open them!”

Belros echoed, “Yes, open them!”

“All right, all right. Gods, where should I start?” Rhea reached over and started to shift through the gifts.

“Mine first,” Traven suggested.

Rhea paused, then snatched up a small, dark fabric bag. “Let’s see what my son has done.”

She hummed a familiar tune while digging into the bag, acting as though finding its contents was a struggle.

“Ah! What is this?” Rhea asked no one in particular as she slowly pulled out a fine, sparkling chain of silver links. A few jeweled accents dangled elegantly as she turned the bracelet in her hands. “This is beautiful, Traven. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mother.”

“And you picked this out all by yourself?” Rhea tipped her head toward Mina.

Traven tried to not seem insulted. “All by myself.”

Mina redirected the conversation before it went any further: “Open mine next,” delivered with a sweet smile. An easy smile.

“What’s this here?” Rhea reached for the fabric bundle of Mina’s, placed it in her lap, and pulled the ribbon tie open. She unfolded two flaps of fabric and revealed the spoils: new leather gloves, rugged for gardening and other work, and the hair ornament. Rhea first examined the gloves and admired the careful stitching work Mina did on them, Mina beaming with pride all the while. When she set them aside and picked up the carved piece, Rhea twirled it between her fingers slowly, its stone glistening in the firelight. “Mina, it’s exquisite. I need more reasons to be seen with it on. Perhaps my husband can help with that.” She innocently smiled at Belros.

Belros grunted. “Perhaps. Open the last one, Wife.”

Rhea set the hair ornament on top of the gloves and picked up the final, largest gift, also wrapped in fabric. She picked up the ends of the ribbon that bound it, holding one of them up for closer inspection. It was stamped with a decorative initial, too ornate to read at a distance. Traven couldn’t recognize it.

“Oh! I know this mark. Belros, what ever did you find?”

“Just a little something,” Belros nonchalantly replied.

Rhea excitedly opened the wrapping and held its contents up for all to see: a fur-trimmed hooded cloak, edged with floral embroidery and clusters of small red beads that resembled rosebuds.

“Oh my,” Rhea whispered, standing to see the full length of the cloak.

“It’s gorgeous,” Mina commented. “Try it on.”

Belros stood and took the cloak from Rhea, unbuttoning its front closure when wrapping it around her. Rhea kissed and thanked him as he redid the buttons. He pulled the hood up and carefully put it in just the right place, then sat down again.

Rhea smiled a toothy grin and spun around to show off the cloak, its length reaching just below her knees.

Traven clapped loudly and cocked an eyebrow at Belros. “Well done, Father.”

Mina joined in with applause. “Yes, well done!”

Playing with the soft fur edging around the hood, Rhea teasingly asked, “What did I do to deserve such a gift?”

“You’re you,” Belros explained, Rhea beaming at his words. “Also, we’re due at court again soon so you can take it for a grand debut. I had a feeling it was coming and, sure enough, a summons was delivered today. We leave for the capitol in a fortnight.”

Rhea’s smile softened. “A summons? What kind?”

Belros looked away from everyone. “The kind we don’t like to receive.”

Traven tipped his head inquisitively, “The war council.”

Mina quickly turned to look at Traven. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s serious,” Belros confirmed. “There are mutterings of a large foreign force building out east. Scouts of theirs have been spotted surveying keeps and testing defenses on the edges of the kingdom.”

Rhea silently unbuttoned the cloak, folded it in half, and draped it over the table next to her chair. She walked over to Belros and kissed the top of his head before sitting down again. The cheer had left her.

“Let’s—let’s not dwell on this tonight,” Mina suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “The day is Rhea’s, and we still have pie to enjoy.”

Rhea agreed, “Yes, let’s have some pie. It’s been teasing us with its sweet aroma all afternoon.”

Mina stood and headed for the kitchen, Belros calling after her, “Make mine a double!”

Traven looked around the room, wondering how long this peace would last. Belros was summoned many times before, the last about four months prior as Traven could best recall, so he wasn’t concerned about this one. He still wouldn’t deny that it had been many years since a conflict broke out; they were overdue for one.

Something was bound to ignite. If not now, then soon.

He already made up his mind to leave with Mina if any fighting started, even if it was still safe in Ginleux. It would need to happen before recruitment. Belros could tell the soldiers Traven was long gone with Mina, have the matter investigated on the spot, and not be held responsible for their actions. Easily done.

Waiting too long would require Traven to sneak out while the rallying soldiers waited for all recruited townsmen to pack. As the only son of a war hero and their lord, all eyes would be on him.

It would be nearly impossible to get away by himself in that situation, and absolutely impossible for the two of them to escape together.

With war looming, taking Mina away from Ginleux would keep her safe, but Rhea would be left all alone after Belros goes to war. Traven at least hoped it would only be a temporary separation.

Would Mother return to her family’s home and stay with them? Could she? Or would she stay and defend Ginleux with the other women and old men? I should discuss it with her soon. Traven mulled over the matter while Mina returned with many plates of pie.

She gave the largest piece to Belros, the next to Rhea, and handed a plate to Traven before sitting back down next to him with her own modest slice. Traven thanked her and picked up the fork, suddenly noticing the pie.

The top had changed.

There was now a ring of leaves around the edge of the pie, but the rest of the topping was a pastry crumble with sugar and spices mixed in. The other decorations Mina made were gone.

Did it overcook? It smelled fine in here when we returned, but…

“Good work, Mina,” Rhea commented between bites. “I believe you may have finally surpassed me in pie-making.”

Mina smiled at her while chewing. A sad smile.

Something happened.

What happened?

After pie, Rhea and Belros retired for the night. Traven again cleaned up after the pie. He reentered the family room from the kitchen and found Mina laying on the fur where they had been sitting in front of the fire, reading from one of her books.

He said nothing and passed through the back of the room into the hallway. In his bedroom was the dark bag from Alys. He reached inside and felt around, first finding an empty pouch, then the one he sought. The pouch was hidden in his right fist as he went back into the family room and sat next to Mina, keeping his hand over the bag as he set it down by him on the fur.

“What are you reading?” Traven asked.

Mina put the book’s ribbon between the pages to save her place and closed the book, showing the cover to Traven.

“Ten Tales and Tragedies. You’ve read this one before.”

“Not lately,” Mina remarked. “The stories have a different meaning now.”

Traven nodded. “They’re about others who were like you. So what’s changed?”

Mina opened the book to the first few pages and flipped to its list of stories. “I want to make sure we won’t end up like them. Similarities are bothering me. They feel like a warning. This one—here,” she pointed at the second story’s title and showed it to Traven. The Ardent. “Her chosen knight swore to protect her. They fell in love and hid away in a distant city, far from anyone who would recognize them, to start a life together. They left home thinking it would keep them safe, just like we’re planning to do. When they were finally discovered and attacked, the sorceress and her guardian fought back against impossible odds. They lost.”

“Is that why you want to become stronger?” Traven questioned.

“No, the sorceress was incredibly strong. The attackers surrounded her as a distraction, knowing many would die. But that wasn’t their target: they stabbed her guardian in the back when he rushed in to protect her. He was her one weakness.” Mina set the book down on the fur rug.

Traven could barely remember the story, but he did remember that part. “He couldn’t be saved.”

“No one was saved.” Mina’s face brightened with strange delight as she continued. “She killed everyone around them to get to her knight, but she was too late. As more attackers entered, her lover dying in her arms, the sorceress vowed to find him again in another life. She used all her strength to destroy the city and themselves. The explosion lit up the sky so brightly, it could be seen across the sea.”

Mina sat up, face-to-face with Traven. She summarized, “They were both in their prime, but strength didn’t save anyone. Her mercy killed them all.”

Traven disagreed, “How would mercy kill anyone? They should have been better hidden if they were being hunted, or kept on moving. Anything.”

“She had the power to kill entire armies on sight,” Mina explained. “The sorceress held back because she didn’t want to harm innocent people in her wake.”

“And then she killed every innocent person in the city,” Traven surmised.

“If she had attacked hard from the start, only a few may have died. Instead, she lost everything and no longer had a reason to care about mercy.” Mina looked away from Traven. “I can’t let that happen. Any of it.”

“It won’t,” Traven reassured her. “We will be careful. That’s just a story, anyway. If she killed everyone, who could have survived to write about her? When war comes, or whenever we choose to leave, we won’t stay in one place for long. No one will know us. No one will find us.”

Mina nodded. She pulled her feet close, bringing her knees up in front of her, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She turned her face to him, resting her head on her legs. “Will it really happen? A war?”

Traven sighed.

And paused.

“War is inevitable. Ginleux only exists for war,” Traven reminded her.

“Yes, a mill to make great warriors,” Mina agreed. “And you help prepare the young ones to die for a king they’ll never know.”

Traven’s hand clenched around the pouch beneath it. “That’s neither fair nor true. If they lived anywhere else, they would still have to fight in wars. I’m just helping them learn how to be better fighters than they ever could on their own. Giving them a better chance.”

Mina raised her head off her legs. “I know. I just wish it didn’t need to be this way. I wish I could protect everyone, keep things the way they are now. Peaceful.”

“We can’t protect everyone,” Traven conceded. “Only ourselves.”

Mina nodded once in agreeance.

“Speaking of, I have something for you.” He picked up the pouch and held it out to her.

Moving her legs to sit up properly, Mina reached for the pouch and took it from his hand. “What’s this?”

“The merchant said it’s from somewhere far away. He wasn’t sure of the name, but he insisted this is their specialty.”

She untied the bag and reached into it, pulling out a metal object on a thin chain. A large red oval stone dominated the face of the piece, translucent, a barely-visible symbol etched into the metal behind it. The stone was framed with delicate gold filigree, twisting around and around to hold the gem and its backing plate in place.

Mina studied it for several moments, then finally spoke. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

She continued to hold the pendant and turned it over, seeing the strange writing on its back.

“The merchant said it’s for protection. Once put on, the stone will protect its wearer from harm.” Traven picked up the end of the chain and slipped it over Mina’s head, around her neck. “So don’t take it off—in case it really works.”

Mina gently placed the pendant down low on her chest and let it hang by the chain. “I could never take this off, Traven. Thank you.”

That look in her eyes…

Traven used his fingers to lift her hair out from under the chain, settling the pendant chain against her scarred neck. Mina tipped her head forward to make it easier for him.

He finished fixing the chain and firmly placed his hands on her shoulders, tilting his head forward and leaning toward Mina’s bowed head until their foreheads touched. Her eyes looked into his, and they both stayed still.

Those eyes.

Traven removed his hands from her shoulders, lightly brushing her cheek with the back of a curved finger as he pulled away from her, slowly standing. “I’ll go and get ready for tonight. You’re sure you still want to do this?”

Mina put her hands down on the fur rug, straightening her arms and pushing her torso upright to stretch a bit. “I have to. I need to become stronger than I am.”

Traven started walking away. “Hm. Strength didn’t save them, remember?”

“But they didn’t have one of these pendants,” Mina snapped back.

He laughed to himself and entered his room, closing the door behind him. Horace, sleeping, opened his eyes at the sound of the door, but fell fast asleep again. I’ll fly you before tomorrow’s training.

Traven sat on his bed and laid back onto it, staring at the ceiling, thoughts all over the place. Didn’t get a chance to ask about the pie. Or what happened earlier. I’ll find out on the walk.

He unbuttoned his overshirt and sat back up to remove it, taking it off and laying it next to him on the bed. He then took both hands and pulled up the chain around his neck, lifting a pendant out from the undershirt. It was the perfect twin of the one he gave Mina.

So these get stronger the longer we wear them? Hopefully worth their price. Strange things. I didn’t want to tell her about the stone. Calling it “mageblood” and all.

Something was off with that merchant.

Still, it’s worth a try. These will either work or they won’t.

It made her happy, and that matters most. I want her to be happy.

He stood up and walked to the mirror on his chest of drawers. Looking over himself and the pendant, he nodded in approval and picked up the pendant, slipping it back down into the undershirt. The warm metal met his skin.

…But can I protect her? Or will I just be the weakness that gets her killed?

Remaining at the mirror, Traven looked at his frame, his neck, his ears, his face, his stubble growing in, his dark hair a bit long. He turned to the side and looked at his obscured form beneath the undershirt, making out where his chest and back were true against the material.

He looked down at his hands, barely rough while other men had what seemed like armored plates of skin on their palms and fingers from combat training.

He took a hand and felt his forearm and bicep, then changed hands to check his favored arm.

He relaxed and flexed the arm, decently built while seasoned men had what looked like bulbous knots of muscle from years of constant strain and use.

He felt around his shoulders and neck, gauging small but substantial progress in muscle growth over the last few weeks.

“She’s right. We need to become stronger than we are now. Both of us.”