8 YEARS LATER

Captain Socarras Aguero stood at the helm of his ship, the Péchado's Beisur in Carabaí, or the Sin's Kiss in the Merchant Tongue. He was a rising pirate in the Caraíbes Isles; he had only raided five ships so far but had made large gains. It was enough to get him a nice price for his capture alive. However, the last time they had raided a ship had been three months ago, and his crew was getting anxious. So whenever his lookout spotted a lightly manned ship that seemed to carry the sigil of a minor house, he barely thought before giving the order to board.

The ship had no artillery and as they neared it appeared that the ship had only one knight and a few men-at-arms and its regular crew. Captain Socarras got his boarding crew ready and set up the crossbows in strategic positions to fire down upon the small crew. His men threw out grappling hooks onto the other ship and brought it in close before setting out long planks to board the ship.

Just as Captain Socarras was about to lead his men in a charge, the lone knight shouted, "Wait, wait! I have a message for you." He spoke in Carabaí, his accent one of the northern islands.

He considered it for a moment before raising his hand in a signal for his crossbowmen to hold fire. "Make it quick, knight," he snarled. "For I have half a mind to let my crossbows unleash upon you no matter what you plead."

"Oh I know you do," the knight quipped. "However, I must ask you something. Are you Captain Socarras Aguero? This seems to be the Péchado's Beisur."

"Yes," he answered. "I am."

"Well then, that is great news. I am Sir Gerard Elwyn, freelancer knight anointed by Her Grace, the Duchess Lilliana Florjes of Veroña . I am here to arrest you."

Silence settled over both crews. Then Captain Socarras began laughing. His laughter was loud and booming, it carried over both ships and his crew began to join.

"You think you can arrest me in the position you're in now?" he asked incredulously between bouts of laughter. "I would've thought the Freelancer himself would be smarter than this."

Sir Gerard Elwyn, the Freelancer. He was the most renown freelancer knight in all of the Caraíbes. He usually traveled with the Peasant, his companion, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Admittedly, he did feel a bit of fear at the fact that his crew was about to face off against the Freelancer, but he was outnumbered here and even the Freelancer could only stand against so many.

Captain Socarras saw some of his men take a few steps back in fear and recognition when they heard Sir Gerard's name. "Hold," he growled at them. "Don't be afraid. Think of the profit we can make; I'm sure the Duchess Florjes will pay a hefty price to get her most renown freelancer back into her hands."

Sir Gerard smirked. "I would hope so. If you do capture me, could you let me set the price? I have a feeling you would underestimate my worth."

"So quick to make a joke are you?" Socarras spat. "We'll see if you're so cheery once you're bound in iron chains." Some of his men laughed. Socarras looked at Gerard. He felt himself smile with interest. Here he was with the greatest freelancer in all of the Caraíbes. About to capture him. He was also slightly interested. "Tell me something about yourself, Sir Gerard. After all, we may be living in the same ship for a while."

Sir Gerard gave him a small, knowing smile. "Well, I don't really have much to say. But I can say that my enemies always seem to make the same mistakes over and over again. It makes it really easy to defeat them."

Socarras felt smug. "Well, it's safe to say that I haven't made such mistakes considering your current position. But what are these mistakes?"

"Well for one. . . they all think that I'm the deadly one."

Socarras felt his heart drop. But before he could shout, the twang of a bow filled the air. Two, three, four times and counting. All his crossbowmen fell to the ground from their positions, dead. Arrows sticking out of their throats or their eyes. The boarding looked and around, panicking, and raised their crude wooden shields. It was futile, for the arrows simply found them in other places.

Socarras looked around in a frenzy for the bowman. He glanced up at the top and found a figure in a black jacket and hood with a bow raised firing arrow after arrow at his men. There.

"Charge!" Socarras shrieked, his voice guttural as he drew his falchion.

None of his men echoed his cry.

Socarras turned back to his boarding crew and saw that each man was either dead or had fled.

He felt his face turn blood-red with rage as he faced Sir Gerard. "Come here and fight me like a man!" he challenged.

Sir Gerard looked up at the bowman in the top. Socarras saw the bowman shrug. Sir Gerard turned back to him and simply said, "Okay." He drew his longsword and waited.

Socarras, fueled by rage, charged. He swung his falchion in overhead swipe which Sir Gerard easily sidestepped and quickly followed with a stab to the leg.

Socarras howled in pain as warm blood rushed down his leg and he fell on one knee to the ground. Sir Gerard easily disarmed him from there. Socarras gritted his teeth and looked up at Sir Gerard, "Kill me already," he spat out.

Sir Gerard smiled. "I need you alive if I want the reward." And knocked him out with the flat of his blade.

***

"We really could've shortened that," Salvador said to Gerard.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know how long I had to wait at the top? I was ready to take a nap."

Gerard snorted. "So how do you want to do it next time?"

Salvador pretended to think before saying, "How about I just shoot them from the beginning?"

Gerard smiled. "What's the fun in that?"

"Fair point."

"You see, Salvador, by doing what we just did, we have built up our reputation."

Salvador raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Think about it: We have just captured Captain Socarras Aguero in a way that will surely follow him all his life. His men dead around him and he is the last one standing. All taken out by an unseen archer. Then, he attacks me and I easily defeat him. He goes into prison and before he is executed, he tells the other prisoners a slightly exaggerated version of what happened. And they tell the other prisoners a slightly exaggerated version of his slightly exaggerated version. And the other, and the others, until it goes on and on and we have a reputation that none can match in the Caraíbes."

Salvador felt himself slowly nodding. "Good. Although our reputation is already far greater than any other freelancer."

"Well, then it will just keep getting bigger."

Salvador felt content. "Great! Hopefully, that will mean people will hire us for more."

"Or we can make them hire us for more."

Salvador gave Gerard a truly malicious grin. "I did like how you said, 'They always think that I'm the deadly one,'"

"That may be the one part I regret," Gerard grunted.

"Oh come on," Salvador said, smirking. "Deep down inside, you know its true."

Gerard shook his head. "I should've known this would all go to your head," he muttered.

Salvador gave him a playful punch on the shoulder and Gerard had to smile.

Their small ship sailed back towards the coast, heading for Veroña the northern island ruled by Duchess Florjes. Also known as the Duchy of Veroña, it housed the seat of House Florjes, Fiorá, the City of Flowers.

After a day of sailing, the coastline of Veroña appeared. The landscape was covered in trees and bushes full of blossoms of all types of color. Pink, red, blue, orange, and many more. Veroña was the Island of Flowers; every year during spring, flowers, and blossoms would bloom by the millions. Entire fields would be painted in a variety of colors. It was almost like an artist had decided to throw a bunch of paint upon the canvas that was Veroña.

It was home.

They sailed on for another half a day before the city of Fiorá appeared on the coast. They saw the great docks, filled with hundreds of ships. Salvador could see the great walls of Springwater Hall. He could see the great banners depicting the sigil of House Florjes; a pink blossom upon a spring-green field.

Their ship docked and they unboarded where they were greeted by guardsmen and brought to Springwater Hall. The sounds of Sersalvonian music and the scent of traditional Sersalvonian foods filled the air. Spices and flavors from all across the Caraíbes and beyond danced and mingled in the air.

Fiorá was a major center of commerce in the Caraíbes and produced the most income in Sersalvon by trade. With all of the houses in Veroña and their fleets combined, the Veroñian was one of the largest in Sersalvon.

Salvador was pulled out of his thoughts by the thrashing of their prisoner. Gerard had him bound in iron and in a tight grip. Just as they were about to enter Springwater Hall, Salvador stopped and faced Captain Socarras. "Alright," he started, "I'm going to kindly ask you to shut up and remain still. I don't want to make this too difficult as I present you to Her Grace."

Socarras glared at him.

"And I don't quite feel like knocking you out," he added. He looked up at Gerard. "Make sure he doesn't struggle too much."

"He won't," he replied.

The doors to Springwater Hall opened and the guardsmen led them through the castle until they reached the doors of the throne hall. As the great doors opened, they revealed an elaborate chamber filled with the vibrant color of flowers and blossoms. The great banners of House Florjes were hung up against the wall and guards lined the walls. The lords and ladies of Veroña were seated in the rows and rows of seats. The throne was an elaborate wooden chair with carved images of flowers and runes. Angelic runes.

Seated on the throne was Duchess Florjes, her hair raven black hair, and sea-blue eyes a symbol of their house. Standing next to her were her children. On her right, her consort, Lord Martyn Aguino, was seated in a simple wooden throne. On his right, their eldest son, Carlos Florjes, twenty-five years of age. Next to him was her youngest son, Inejgo, nineteen years of age. On the Duchess' left was her eldest daughter, Myreia, twenty-two years of age. Beside her was the youngest child of Duchess Florjes, Angelica, eighteen years of age.

All the lords and ladies turned and stared at Gerard and Salvador when they entered. Gerard forced Captain Socarras to his knees before the Duchess. The whole court went silent as they waited for the Duchess to speak.

A smile broke across the Duchess' face as she said, "Excellent job, Sir Gerard Elwyn and Salvador Castellano. You shall receive your reward." She snapped her fingers and two guards brought in a chest containing a thousand corounem.

"Five hundred for you and five hundred for me," Gerard whispered as if he were reminding him.

"I know that," he snapped, his voice low.

Gerard snorted. "From your expression, it doesn't seem so."

"You know I always get excited once we get a reward."

Gerard chuckled. "Yes, I do know."

"This chest will be sent to your rooms," Duchess Florjes announced. She nodded at the guards who subsequently began to carry it to Gerard and Salvador's room.

She turned back to Gerard and Salvador. "Once more, I congratulate you two. Word of the capture of Captain Socarras Aguero will spread and your reputation shall grow along with it. Already most in the Caraíbes Isles know of the Freelancer and the Peasant. But soon, so shall all of Arkenheim. You are dismissed."

At her dismissal, both Gerard and Salvador turned around and walked out of the throne hall.

A guard came up to them and delivered a message: "Her Grace wishes to see you after the court meeting in an hour."

Salvador and Gerard both gave the guard a nod before heading off to their rooms.

As they opened the door to their rooms, Salvador thought of the first time he had opened this door eight years ago. It had been after meeting with Duchess Florjes who had received him so kindly. She had decided to give Gerard and Salvador a room together since Salvador refused to leave Gerard's side. Over the years, Duchess Florjes had become a sort of motherly figure to him.

Well. . . more like the aunt who gave you everything you wanted and you loved so much because she was so fun. Lord Martyn had been like a distant uncle, always away. However, when he was in Fiorá, he was always teaching Salvador new fighting techniques.

For eight years Salvador had trained. He learned different fighting styles, ranging from those in northern Evrúopa all the way to the swordmasters of Nihjon Ken. One of his personal favorite weapons were his twin cutlasses. A slightly curved, single-edged blade commonly used in Nihjon Ken.

The blade was Aes Sídhe steel, the strongest steel in the world, created by an ancient faerie race that died out over one thousand five hundred years ago. Nothing held an edge like Sídhe steel. Blades made from Aes Sídhe steel could still be found in places all over Arkenheim. It is even said that some places deep inside ancient forests, there were beings who still held the secrets to Aes Sídhe steel.

Salvador treaded into their armory, which held the weapons of both him and Gerard. He gazed at his twin cutlasses, feeling pride blossom in his chest. Everything here was a symbol; how far he had come from the ten-year-old boy in a town who dreamed of adventures.

He no longer needed to dream of adventures. For his entire life was one.

He slowly backed out of the armory and into his bedroom. It was simple enough, his bed backed against the wall, his nightstand beside it. And his bookshelves. . . stacks and stacks of shelves filled with books of every size and color. Hundreds of different authors, hundreds of different stories. Some of them depicting entirely different worlds. Worlds where magic reigned free. Worlds where it was paradise. Worlds where the angels themselves had come down from heaven.

Some of them were of his world. The history of Arkenheim, thousands upon thousands of years. Others were legends of the Aes Sídhe and other races lost to time. The rise of mankind and how he conquered the world. The history of Sersalvon and the Caraíbes Isles. Histories of all the duchies and islands of Sersalvon.

Some of them were books of the Houses of Sersalvon. Their armies, strengths, weaknesses, and their past and current members. Some of the books on the shelves were of Salvador's own making. Notebooks filled with what he had gathered on the Houses of Sersalvon. On what he had gathered on House Rivera.

Salvador felt his lip curl into a snarl. He forced himself not to think of what had happened on the Day. But he did think about his hands wrapping around Lord José's throat. His blades sinking into his body. He dreamt of the life shuttering out from his eyes. Oh, yes. . . sometimes he would spend the waking hours of the night thinking of all the horrible, malicious things he would to Lord José once he laid his hands on him.

"Sir Gerard Elwyn and Salvador Castellano," called a messenger, "Her Grace will see you now."

Salvador forced himself to take a deep breath and open his eyes. As he walked to the door, he mentally forced himself to put on the mask that had slipped off.