The Warmth of the Hearth

“It is easy to believe that one person would struggle to find a way in leaving his mark upon this world.” A younger Olin speaks, his eyes fixated on his brother cradling an infant Luke. “However, I am confident that like you, he will be so much more than he will be given credit for.” The orange light of the afternoon sun seeps through the silk curtains of Luke’s room as Laurent gently sways him in his arms, putting him to sleep.

Laurent simply smiles, contentment welling in his heart as he eyes his son, gleaming underneath the light of the afternoon sun. “I have no doubt that he is destined for great things Olin, even more than I ever will be capable of.” With gentle motions, he puts Luke down upon the tiny crib that was made for him, glimmering dragonflies embedded upon the sides. “There will come a time that my responsibilities will refrain me from being the best father that I can be, Olin.”

“I am aware.” Olin responds, now waiting at the door as Laurent follows him outside. “The other houses have not been lenient with their intentions of barring us from any sort of influence. I can imagine you have your hands full as of the moment.”

“That would be an understatement, considering that many of them believe that we are merely a stepping stone in their pursuit of power.” A concerned look overtakes Laurent’s countenance. “The pedestal we stand upon is fragile, and I expect them to take advantage of it.”

A commotion outside of the manor comes to their attention as a loud familiar rambling can be heard. “Where’s the bloke, Laisren?” A much more rugged Rolan Alder demands. “Gimme a minute to talk to the fellow! We got some business to be settled, yeah?”

“Sir Alder, Master Laurent is cu-” The servant does not get to finish as Laurent and Olin come out the front door.

“That will be fine, Rem. I will speak to him.” Laurent speaks in a warm voice, causing the servant to look at him with worried eyes before nodding and heading inside the manor. He then turns to Alder, glaring at him with ill intent. “Is there anything I can help you with Rolan?”

“Aye. Ya really have a way of getting on my nerves, Laisren! I challenge you to a duel so I can bash your skull in for the humiliation ya gave me!” Rolan shouts, veins bulging on his neck.

Laurent simply sighs, his head bowed down in disappointment. “I do not have anything to gain from choosing to participate in one of your antics Rolan. I have enough on my plate as it is.” He turns around to head inside when a huge trunk forces him to duck down, followed by a huge explosion behind him. Laurent looks back to see Rolan unconscious on the ground, smoke rising from his inanimate body as Olin simply shakes his head.

“I shall see that he is escorted outside, you go on ahead.” Olin says, unsurprised of what Rolan had just attempted to do. “I believe house Alder would not be happy about their eldest son causing a ruckus, so I shall make sure to come up with a believable excuse that will suffice.”

“Very well. I will have dinner ready by the time you are back.” Laurent responds promptly as he sees Olin help the servants transfer Alder onto the carriage. “Make sure you are home in time.” He sees Olin nod and proceeds within the manor to handle more pressing matters.

Upon arriving at his desk, he sees a mountain of paperwork awaiting him, his heart sinking at the thought of having to pull another all-nighter if he ever wanted to finish these in time. “Is this not a bit too much for one man to handle?” He mutters, a sigh escaping him as he sits down upon his chair. Where do I even begin? Tons of papers containing pressing matters lie in front of him, waiting for him to acknowledge them. Despite being a part of the lower segments of the noble houses, House Laisren’s connections to the esteemed House of Blaise has helped him cement his position of importance upon Ezicion in the fields of politics. As such, he is responsible in eradicating any form of arising conflicts that may arise between any of the noble lineages that exist within the country.

A knock on the door causes Laurent to lift his head from the paper work, his spectacles nearly dropping from his nose by the sudden movement. “Master Laurent, there is a letter addressed to you. It was sent with utmost urgency and they have requested you take a look at it as soon as possible.” Rem holds up a small piece of parchment rolled and sealed with the royal sigil as her red eyes glint underneath the low light.

“Understood, give it here.” Laurent extends a hand to receive the letter and he quickly unfolds the paper. Rem leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Master Laisren,

I write to you with the hope that you come to understand the severity of the importance of this message. I may not be one of the most acknowledged but I have come to serve Ezicion from before you were even born. You may find this as a surprise, seeing that we rarely come to find ourselves in conversation, but know that I have seen that you are more capable than what this nation has given you credit for. Like you, I long for an Ezicion where there are no division in between each and every individual that resides within it, and hopefully as your son grows up, he will come to see this vision of ours fulfilled. My time is near, I do not have such pride as to deny the inevitable arrival of my passing. Which is why I leave this knowledge to you. Darkness is looming. The same terror that we have come to nearly suffer ages ago has once again been awakened within Blepalon. When he will come, I do not know. However, I know that the Hearthfire young Luke possesses will be our greatest light when the time comes for him to return. Yes, I know of the power Luke has come to possess from his mother and worry not, your secret is safe with me. I have sent letters to ones I trust as well, and I hope that this knowledge will be of aid in your preparation.

Best regards,

Fahren