Morning bathed Dido's farmland in warm, golden light, spilling across the fields like melted gold. The corn stalks stood tall and proud, their leaves trembling slightly in the gentle breeze, while beads of dew clung to their green skin like scattered crystals. The scent of fresh earth mingled with the faint aroma of hay, giving the entire area the comforting smell of honest labor and nature's rhythm.
Far off, a rooster crowed, its call echoing between the wooden fences and across the sloping hills. Birds flitted from branch to branch, chirping in chorus like a living symphony celebrating the promise of a new day. The farmhouse itself sat quiet and proud, its windows catching the early sun like watchful eyes, and the chimney still whispering the last faint wisps of smoke from the breakfast fire.
It was a moment of serenity before the trials of the day began—a moment where time felt like it held its breath and all that mattered was the soft rustling of leaves, the occasional cluck of a chicken, and the warmth of the sun crawling slowly over Dido's land.
Outside the farmhouse, Toby and Reu sat beside Dido on an old log, the bark worn smooth by years of use. The morning light dappled through the overhanging branches, casting golden streaks across their tired faces. A soft wind rustled the nearby stalks of corn, and in the far distance, the soft clucking of hens added a calm rhythm to the moment. Dido chewed on a stem of wheat, his squinting eyes reflecting a life of grit and battles, as he regarded the two young men with a discerning, almost paternal eye.
"You know," he said, breaking the silence as he nudged his cane against the dirt, "this land teaches you how to survive. And just watching you two sit there, I can tell—you've still got a lot to learn if you want to keep walking it for long."
Reu raised a brow, crossing his arms. "We've been through plenty already."
Dido chuckled. "Plenty? Lad, one real storm on an open field will humble even the proudest tree. Trust me. And out here, the storms don't just come from the sky."
"You," he said, pointing at Reu, "you got good physique. Strong legs, solid shoulders. But your fighting style? Lacks real power."
Reu huffed, arms crossed. "I didn't have my sword last night."
Dido smirked. "What? That rusty bread knife you call a sword?"
Toby burst into laughter. "He's got a point, Reu."
"When I get to Gresia, I'll have it reforged," Reu muttered.
Dido stood and stretched, cracking his neck and knuckles. Then, with a grin, he pulled off his tunic, revealing a surprisingly toned physique, muscles still firm despite the sag of age.
"Come on, Reu. Show me what you've got without that metal toothpick."
"What? Are you serious, old man?"
Dido clapped his hands. "Dead serious. You won't always have a weapon. Time to learn how to fight with what you've got."
Toby whooped. "Go Reu! Show him what the right hand of the Vesper Knights can do!"
"Shut it, Toby."
The mock duel began with the slow circling of two fighters, the sun catching their shadows as they shifted across the dirt. Reu stepped forward first, his fists raised, knuckles clenched tight. He threw a few jabs, quick and probing, testing the old man's defenses. Dido, relaxed and unreadable, ducked the first, stepped sideways for the second, and leaned back for the third, his movements smooth like water slipping over stone.
"That all?" Dido scoffed, voice light but laced with challenge. "You swing like a drunk chicken who's lost its dinner."
Reu gritted his teeth, cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and rising frustration. He reset his stance, planting his feet firmer, and unleashed a sharper combo—two swift punches to the body, a hook to the side, and a feinted uppercut that transitioned into a solid straight punch aimed at Dido's chest.
Dido's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He parried two of the blows, stepped into the hook to deflect it, but the final punch—a surprise straight to the arm—landed, albeit lightly.
"Hm," Dido muttered, rubbing the struck spot with mild approval. "That tickled."
Suddenly, Dido lunged. Reu backpedaled, surprised by the speed. Dido closed the gap in a flash, his feet barely touching the earth. His punches came quick and deceptively light, but Reu could feel the force behind them.
"Think I needed your help last night?" Dido barked. "I've been dealing with mimarans since before you were born."
BAM! Reu managed to block a punch, but the force skidded him back.
Then Dido feinted left, hopped right, and disappeared from Reu's view. He reappeared behind him.
SLAP!
A loud crack echoed as Dido slapped Reu across the face. Reu reeled, blinking from the impact.
Toby stood in shock. "Old man, that was brutal."
Dido turned to him. "Your turn, chief."
Dido lunged with surprising speed for a man of his age, the force of his rush kicking up dust beneath his boots. Toby reacted on instinct, ducking just in time to avoid a devastating jab, his back skimming the grass as he rolled forward and came up on his feet, breathing hard and already sweating. The air around them crackled with intensity.
Dido spun around with a fluid grace, launching a flurry of feints—his fists slicing through the air in deceptive, unpredictable patterns. Each movement was calculated to throw Toby off balance. Left, right, a sudden step in, and a fake knee strike. Toby's eyes darted with each motion, his mind racing to separate real from false. He narrowed his focus, heart thudding in his ears, and started to anticipate Dido's rhythm, reading through the distractions like flipping pages of a book under pressure.
Despite the onslaught, Toby held his ground. His breath quickened, not from fear, but from the exhilaration of matching wits and reflexes with a seasoned fighter. Every move tested his instincts. He could feel the lessons behind Dido's fists, each blow a challenge to grow faster, sharper, better.
A strong right came at him. Toby reached to block—but it vanished. The real punch came from the left.
Toby tried to flicker away, but just as he shimmered, Dido caught him by the neck.
"You can blink!" Dido grunted, lifting Toby slightly, "but if you hesitate—"
SLAP!
Toby yelped as the slap cracked across his face. Dido let him go, laughing.
Both young men were on the ground, stunned.
"How can you survive out there if you can't even outmatch an old man?" Dido asked, retrieving his tunic.
Toby groaned. "Reu... we got humiliated."
"Yes," Reu admitted. "And we need to get stronger."
Brea arrived, arms crossed. "What happened to you two? Shifted from ashkins to farmers now?"
The boys stood slowly, brushing off dirt.
Before more could be said, hoofbeats thundered in from the road. A small group of paladins rode in, stopping near the house. One of them, clearly a commanding officer, dismounted.
"Good day, kids," he said. "Seen any ashkins around?"
Brea bristled. "Kids? I'm a lady."
"I don't care."
"WHAT?!"
She stepped forward, rolling up her sleeves, but Reu held her back.
Dido intervened. "Good day, sir. These are my niece and nephews. They're just helping me for the season."
The captain squinted. "You... you're Dido. Retired paladin captain."
Dido nodded. "That I am. And these brats are under my roof."
The paladin narrowed his eyes. "Report to us if you see any ashkin activity."
"Of course," Dido replied. "And don't let the mimarans get to you."
The paladin said nothing, then turned his horse and rode off with the others.
Later, the trio packed their things.
Celia hugged each of them. "We'll be sad to see you go."
Toby smiled. "Wish we could stay longer. But dreams don't chase themselves."
Brea grinned. "And I got pockets to fill."
Reu clasped Dido's hand. "Thank you. Truly."
"Get strong, brats," Dido said. "The world out there isn't kind."
They mounted their horses—Toby riding with Reu.
"Goodbye! Thank you!" Toby called.
Dido watched them disappear down the trail.
"They won't last long," he muttered.
Celia stood beside him. "Just like how they said you wouldn't when you are young."
Dido grunted and turned away.
Down the road, the trio encountered a merchant cart heading the opposite direction. The merchant waved them down.
"Heading to Gresia, are you?"
"Yes," Reu said. "Is this the right road?"
"It is. But the town's in utter chaos—ashkins and paladins are locked in a full-blown battle right in the streets. Buildings are burning, the sky is choked with smoke, and frightened civilians are running in all directions. You can hear the clashing of steel and the roar of spells from miles away. I barely made it out with my cart before a whole row of houses was blown apart. Many of us are fleeing with nothing but the clothes on our backs."
Reu frowned.
Brea noticed. "You alright?"
"Yes," Reu said quietly.
"Thank you."
The trio urged their horses forward, riding toward a town on the edge of war.
Their journey continued.