The Greyfield Chronicles

Barnabas Greyfield struck an imposing figure despite his old age. It was expected, Venza supposed, of the former Lord Marshall of Odolenia. If there was any man she thought could best her father in a serious duel, it was her grandfather, even if he was past his prime.

He, Venza, and Aiela sat in the dining room as Milly brought in a fresh pot of tea along with some biscuits. Unlike her father, Barnabas kept his face clean-shaven, showing narrow cheeks weathered by age.

"A mage with your talent at your age?" he spoke, eyeing Aiela. "Incredible. If you trained in the magic academy at Lilium, you'd be a rising star in no time."

"Venza has no wish to attend the magic academy," Aiela answered politely. "And neither do I."

More like Venza couldn't be admitted into it with her feeble spellcasting, really, but she didn't need to say that out loud.

Barnabas laughed, not unkindly. "You remind me of Olivia."

"Who?" Aiela asked.

"One of my old comrades, Olivia Byrne," Barnabas explained. "She is- was my version of Lucius' Adam Vosmer, if you will. She was a battlemage and there was no one else I would rather have by my side in a fight."

He had a far-off gaze, as if remembering some distant memory. Venza had never met Olivia, so she could only assume she’d passed on.

"Do all the Greyfields have some sort of aide they rely on for everything?" Aiela asked, looking between Barnabas and Venza.

"Not officially, no," the former patriarch of House Greyfield answered. "Though my father had one, as well. It's not really tradition or anything, but I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

"So, does that mean you're fine with Venza becoming Marshall after her father retires?" Aiela asked.

There was a moment of silence as Barnabas regarded his granddaughter with a calculating look. "Truth be told, I wouldn't wish the life of a soldier on anyone, but someone has to do it, and we Greyfields are pretty damn good at what we do."

Venza nodded, as if to say she wouldn't let him down. Barnabas and Vosmer had believed in her when no one else had.

"If I hadn't abdicated my position as Head of House to my thick-headed son, you'd be training properly right now, but I told Lucius he could make his own decisions," he said, almost as if apologizing.

"I wish he'd let me make my own," Venza muttered.

"In time, perhaps," Barnabas said. "You are only nine, though I wish he'd respect your wish to carry the family legacy onward."

"If I was a boy, I'd have the opposite problem," Venza said.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Barnabas said, pursing his lips.

He let out a heavy sigh, but continued.

"Fathers will always worry about their children regardless of gender. Admittedly, if you'd been born male, he'd know you wouldn't be able to escape your fate as the sole heir. Then he'd have no choice but to train you for what lies ahead."

"I'd probably be overworked," Venza mused.

"True. He'd be training you so hard you'd want to run away and leave the House altogether without an Heir," he said. "By the way, was that magic you did earlier?"

Venza grinned. "Yep! Aiela managed to teach me how to cast Reach."

"She can only maintain it for a second or two, though," Aiela commented, earning her a dirty look from Venza. In response, she smirked, and added, "Though I've seen her punch a rock out of the air and break a pot with it."

"I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with the spell," Barnabas admitted. "At least Olivia never used it."

"Not surprising," Aiela said. "It's something you'd use more around the house than on the battlefield. Basically, she can touch anything she can see clearly without actually touching it."

"You're right," her grandpa said. "I've never seen it used in combat, though I guess it would be hard to see."

"You're the one actually making things move," Aiela explained. "And since most mages have trouble lifting a sack of potatoes, there's no reason to punch someone from a distance instead of hitting them with a real spell. It does have its uses, even though you only have a fraction of your strength."

To demonstrate, Aiela made a gesture of pulling something with her hand, and Barnabas' sword came out of its sheathe partway before she slowly slid it back in.

"Impressive," Barnabas said, pulling the weapon back in.

"What? Hang on a moment." Venza asked. "Why?"

"What was confusing?" Aiela asked back.

"What do you mean by a fraction of my strength?" she asked.

"Ah, you haven't noticed?" Aiela asked. "You're not as strong using Reach as you are just doing it by hand, so to speak."

"Are you sure?" Venza asked doubtfully. "I broke that pot."

"Yes, but that was you punching with the entire weight of your body behind it," Aiela answered. "If you want, we can run tests later to compare."

"Sure thing," Venza said, flexing biceps that didn't grow much at all. "I'll show you how strong I am."

"Ah, yes, you did give those children a good thrashing," Aiela quipped.

"What children?" Barnabas asked.

Venza explained how she and Aiela met, omitting the details she couldn't voice, with Aiela filling in on occasion. She talked about how Aiela had been bullied and how the two of them fended off a Bloodbeak.

Barnabas had always been sharp, according to her father, and that hadn't changed with his old age. Venza had a feeling he knew there were parts they weren't saying, but if he truly did, he didn't press.

"So you're shield sisters already, are you?" he joked. "Bond forged by the fires of battle?"

Venza looked away, her face burning. "Like I said, it was hardly a fight. Just some children that needed straightening out. And the bird hardly counted. Vosmer and Father did most of the work."

"You say that," Aiela chided. "But you looked pretty serious about beating those kids up to me."

"Aiela!"

Barnabas let out a soft chuckle. "The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree. Lucius got into fights all the time, you know."

"He did?" Venza asked.

"It's in our blood," Barnabas explained. Then, when he realized how bad that sounded, he added, "Not that we're belligerent or anything. I mean we have a hard time looking away from injustice when it stares us right in the face. Just remember: We may be the custodians of these lands and these people, but we are not always right."

"We can’t always tell what is right or wrong," Venza began, repeating what he'd told her years ago. "But if you listen to your-"

"No," Barnabas said, surprising her. "That's only if you really can't tell. Did you forget the first part of that lecture?"

Venza blinked. “What first part?”

Barnabas just chuckled. "Consider the consequences of your actions, who they'll affect. You think like that long enough and you'll start to get a feel for it. Then, if you still aren't sure, listen to your heart."

"Right. I remember that," Venza lied.

Her grandpa looked like he was having a hard time not rolling his eyes. "Still, I am surprised."

"By what, grandpa?"

"Seems I'm not the only one who's been touring the continent looking for trouble."

That caught Venza's attention. "You went southeast, didn't you, grandpa?"

Aiela looked deep in thought. "Southeast? Then you went to Serian?"

"You know your geography, Aiela," her grandfather said.

"And did you find trouble?" Venza asked.

Barnabas smiled, and began to tell her about his recent adventures.