The sound of hooves clattering against the frozen ground echoed through the narrow path leading to the heart of Eager. A biting wind carried the scent of damp wood and the distant crackling of hearth fires. The villagers, wrapped in thick wool cloaks, ceased their daily routines as the procession emerged from the mist, their eyes widening at the sight of the armored figures atop their mighty steeds.
At the forefront of the group rode a young man draped in a dark blue cape, the crest of House Everest embroidered in silver threads across his chest. His black hair gleamed under the pale winter sun, slicked back to reveal the sharp angles of his face. His silver-blue eyes, cold and assessing, swept over the gathered villagers as if weighing their worth in mere moments.
Beside him, a towering knight rode with effortless confidence, his polished armor reflecting the light. His bald head and thick beard were unmistakable. Though years had hardened his features, some villagers recognized him instantly. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"John?" an old woman whispered, her gnarled fingers clutching the edge of her shawl.
"Sir John of Eager," a man corrected her in hushed reverence.
Sir John dismounted with ease, his steel-clad boots crunching against the snow-laden ground. A flicker of something—nostalgia, perhaps—passed through his stern features as he took in the familiar surroundings. "It's been a long time," he muttered under his breath.
Edmund Everest remained astride his horse, unbothered by the cold, unshaken by the stares. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, commanding. "We are here on behalf of Lord Edwin's army. Valtoria seeks men—young and strong—to train as soldiers. If you are willing and capable, you will be given the opportunity to serve."
A tense silence followed. Some exchanged glances, hesitant, uncertain. For many, the life of a soldier was both an honor and a curse—an escape from the hardship of village life, yet a path lined with blood and war.
From the back of the crowd, Alaric stood frozen, his breath visible in the frigid air. His hands clenched at his sides as he stared at the nobleman before him. This was it—the moment that would change everything.
Sir John's deep voice cut through the silence. "I, too, was once one of you," he declared. "I left this village with nothing but my bare hands and returned a knight of Valtoria. If you have the courage, step forward. Your future awaits."
The wind howled through the trees, as if carrying the weight of fate itself. And slowly, uncertainly, the first boy took a step forward.
He is Alaric. He stared at Edmund Everest for a long time, he was amazed and reluctant by the young figure who was quite intimidating, someone with an aura like Edmund that stunned him.
Young Lord Edmund Everest is a young man, around 20 years old, with a tall and athletic build, reflecting the disciplined life and rigorous training he has undergone since childhood. Standing at an impressive height of about 185 cm, he has broad shoulders and well-defined arms, shaped by years of sword training and horseback riding.
His face bears the refined features of nobility—sharp jawline, straight nose, and thin lips that rarely curve into a smile unless necessary. His eyes are a striking silver-blue, cold and piercing, like a merciless winter sky, revealing his intelligence and keen perception. His golden-blond hair is always neatly styled, often slicked back to expose his high forehead, a mark of his aristocratic lineage.
His skin is fair, with a slight pallor typical of those who live in luxury, yet not too smooth—evidence that despite his noble birth, he is no stranger to physical hardship. A faint scar lingers on his left temple, a remnant of the harsh training he endured.
His movements are always elegant and calculated, embodying the high upbringing he received as the heir of the Everest family. Every step he takes exudes authority, every glance carries an unspoken judgment, making those around him tread carefully in his presence. However, beneath his striking appearance and cold charisma lies something deeper—an unrelenting ambition that has yet to fully unfold.
Edmund caught Alaric who had been staring at him. He then said "What about you, boy? Do you want to join?"
Alaric nodded slowly before a few other youths joined the line, they were disadvantaged youths just like Alaric, coming from poor families, the blacksmith's son, the carpenter's son and some of them were also orphans.
Sir John grinned, he seemed to be transported back in time to when Lord Edwin himself offered them a glorious future as loyal soldiers of Valtoria, just like their current situation.
"Well, remember this well before you take the oath of allegiance as a soldier. You leave as children, you will return as men with honor and responsibility. But not all who leave here will go home with honor, some of you may go home with only your name and your parents' tears of sorrow, you will be forged as hard as steel and as strong as stone, some of you may whine to go home but it will be too late after you take the oath. Am I clear?" said Sir John as he paced back and forth looking at them one by one.
He could see clearly, faces that were nervous, scared or even forced. But the first row where Alaric stood, his gaze was sharp, hard and determined.
"Sir John, let them think about the decision. We will wait until the end of the day, those who come are welcome and those who don't, no punishment." Edmund said then spurred his horse to go to the village hall, there was no welcoming party or celebration of the arrival of nobles there, the village was too poor and too cold to welcome nobles who wanted to be treated warmly, Edmund knew that and he understood.
Sir John nodded solemnly before finally following the group that walked behind Edmund, the people in the village also dispersed and went back to their own business. Nobility was a rare thing for them, the nobles would come either a blessing or a curse but one thing was for sure they did not rejoice, life was too hard to pretend in the end.
The village embodied the essence of the North—cold and unforgiving. There were no warm welcomes, no castle wine to soothe the chill, nor the melodic voices of bards singing ballads. Only a light drizzle and falling snow accompanied the scouting party led by Edmund. This was Edmund's first journey in months, traveling to recruit soldiers to strengthen Valtoria's ranks. Eager was the final village on their route.
"How long have we been traveling?" said Edmund, clenching his jaw, not with cold but with anxiety. He was uneasy about the villages he had visited, some of them seemed to be struggling to survive, it was a job he had to complete first if he wanted to survive and gain the love of the Northern People.
"From our departure to the first village until now, about three months, Mi'Lord"
"Send a letter to my father, the condition of the villages in our region is deplorable. Winter is coming, we must prepare to build barns" Edmund said as he took off the fur coat.
"As you wish, Mi' Lord" Sir John said as he came out of Edmund's tent.
As evening approached, a bonfire was set up amidst a small welcome for the boys who dared to heed the call of their Master, the lord of Valtoria castle, the Warden and Protector of the North, Lord Edwin Everest.
Thirty people came, before that there were about fifty. When combined with the youths from other villages who had already left for Valtoria Castle, this year's recruits totaled two hundred or less. Quite a large number for Young Lord Edmund's first experience.
"They are ready" Sir John said as he entered Edmund's private tent.
Edmund wore a blue tunic, a dark blue cape and wore a flexible armor made of cowhide with light iron. He had a wolf's head on the breastplate of his armor and a sword with a wolf's head carved on the hilt.
He walked confidently towards the village hall, his steps quick yet firm and calculating, the ankle-deep snow never seeming to drown his slender feet as he walked among the snow-covered bushes. Sir John escorted the young lord as he kept a sharp eye on his surroundings, the light snow lodged on his bald head, a few fragments stuck in his long beard, anyone would think Sir John was more of an executioner than a knight in shining armor.
All eyes were on Edmund, though a more formidable figure was a few steps behind him. The brave young men gathered and lined up neatly according to the soldier's instructions. Their eyes all seemed to be ready for what would happen in the few months of training to become soldiers, they didn't know yet.
Edmund walked around them, all saying their names and motivations for joining. His father said Edmund didn't have to be close to his soldiers but remember their names, because they stood at the front when a sword or arrow was pointed at him. That was the kind of thanks and appreciation a lord could give to a loyal servant.
"I humbly thank and welcome you all. Not everyone has the courage to come and you proved that the sons of the North are not cowards."
Edmund pointed to his breastplate of armor, the crest of a wolf's head, the coat of arms of his family, the coat of arms of the ruler.
"This symbol gives you a new purpose. Not just to serve, if you only come to serve then slaves serve more. Not just for honor, if it is honor you seek then fallen knights are more honorable than those who stand today. If you come for names, then the names of predecessors are more searching with superstitious tales about them. If you come for wealth, wealth does not exist in the North." Edmund said passionately, people said the way he spoke was exactly the same as his father, Lord Edwin when he was young and led thousands of men across the Red River.
"So before you bow and take the oath, have you thought of the purpose for which you have come while others are hiding like nursing women?" He continued, then with a single pull, the sword with the wolf bead and crest shone in the moonlight, symbolizing unity and strength.
"I do!" shouted all the young men in unison, igniting their spirits amongst the rain and snow that fell all at once.
Edmund nodded proudly, then Sir John approached the line of young men. Edmund took a few steps back, placing both hands on the hilt of the sword that was extended downwards.
Sir John began the oath-taking ritual, everyone knelt, Sir John took the sword from its scabbard then aligned the sword parallel to half his body.
"Follow my words carefully" Sir John commanded.
"I, hereby declare my oath and allegiance"
The young men chanted in unison "I, hereby declare my oath and allegiance"
"Truly, my honor, my devotion, my life and my death are only to protect the honor and fight for justice in one name, Everest my Lord and Lady" said Sir John followed closely.
"I am a despicable man and deserve to die if I break my oath, violate my honor, run from my duty."
"For by ice and iron, we endure," Sir John concluded.
"Arise ye, for the sacred oaths that bind you all will be loosed when you die!" said Edmund.
"By Ice and Iron, We Endure!" Edmund said fiery
"By Ice and Iron, We Endure!" everyone said loudly.
With that, the group of scouts led by Edmund returned to Valtoria Castle along with thirty young men including Alaric who were going to live a real hell, they could not go back or cancel the vow. There was no turning back, back at death or not at all.