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The whispers of the crowd grew louder as they watched the standoff between the short, grey-bearded man from the Horned Clan and the giant Tuscan warrior. A few tables away, a few veteran soldiers even began to place bets with many favoring the old man.

Looking down at the cluster of diminutive figures and hearing the whispers of the crowd, Ipiktok couldn’t help but laugh at himself for the position he found himself in.

If he wanted to, he could easily crush all four members of Heila’s family with a single swat of his massive hand, and even if the old man was one of the greatest swordsmen to ever live, he had little reason to fear for his life.

But in truth, he bore no hostility toward the Willow Whip’s family.

He’d given his word to follow her after she spared him and his men in the arena and in the days that followed, he’d never once regretted that decision.

Even though she had passed command of his soldiers over to Commander Savis for the duration of the upcoming war, he could only respect her for choosing to place him and his men where they could do the most good, rather than clinging to them and using them as some kind of ostentatious personal guard.

Now that he saw the Willow Witch’s grandfather staring him down with nothing but a sword that was no longer than the palm of his hand, Ipiktok felt like he finally understood a piece of where his mistress’s strength came from.

"Ha!" Ipiktok laughed loudly. "Blood runs true indeed," he thundered, retrieving his tankard with his long, flexible trunk and raising it as though he were offering a toast. "Sit, sit.

Be welcome," he said warmly, much to the disappointment of the members of the crowd who had begun to wager on the outcome of a confrontation between the two men.

"My men and I are still alive because of your granddaughter’s mercy, mister.

..?" Ipiktok asked, trailing off and raising an eyebrow at the grey-bearded man.

"His name is Achim," Old Nan said warmly from the opposite side of the family. "And whatever you do, Captain Ipiktok," she warned, shaking a finger at the looming Tuscan before pointing her finger at Heila’s grandfather. "Don’t praise this fool. He’ll take every compliment like it’s a solemn truth carved in oak, and he’ll have you believing it’s all true before you finish your second cup of wine. "

"Nan, you wound me," Achim said, giving the old woman a deep bow. "I’m an old man now. All I have left are old stories. You wouldn’t begrudge me even those, would you?"

"You know, I thought you were dead," Nan said, giving the distinguished-looking man an evaluating look. "You could have visited when the war ended," she said sourly, even though her face wore a gentle smile.

"I didn’t die," Achim said, pulling out a chair for his wife to take a seat next to Old Nan. "I retired. My little ones had little ones! How could I keep traipsing around the outlying villages when I had my very own grandchildren to watch running about? My darling Lorena would never have forgiven me for leaving them all to her, and family always comes first. It’s the same for you, isn’t it, Nan? "

"Smooth talker," Old Nan chuckled. "You haven’t changed a bit."

"Mister Achim, Mister Kaisen," Ritchel said in a voice that was pure and strong despite his apparent frailty.

"You have my deepest gratitude for teaching Lady Heila to prioritize family and value mercy. If not for her friendship with my son, I doubt she’d have ordered the Thistle Witch to spare my life. "

"Spare your life?" Kaisen said, blinking furiously at the emaciated Frost Walker before his eyes widened in shock. "Lord Ritchel of the High Pass! You, you..."

"It’s just ’Ritchel’ now," the former Eldritch Lord of the High Pass said, raising his hand in a gesture that was a little helpless while his expression was bittersweet. "My son will take up my throne in a few years’ time. For now, I’m just a ’guest’ of the Vale of Mists while I recover from the Thistle Witch’s poison. "

"You should be more than a guest," Ipiktok said, giving the former Frost Walker lord an appraising look. "I’ve seen the powers of flame that Sir Ignatious commands. This ’Inquisition’ is said to possess flames that are even more terrifying.

If you brought five or ten of your men and led them under Commander Aspakos’s banner, I’m sure you would make a difference in the battles to come. "

"There’s no need to pressure him," Aspakos said, holding up a taloned hand.

"Let him heal from his wounds and watch over his son for a time. A parent or grandparent should have a chance to see their child rise instead of clinging to what little glory they can still find on the field of battle. Isn’t that right, Mister Achim? Miss Nan?"

"I never cared for battles and nonsense," Old Nan said.

"I’ve seen the only one I ever intend to, and that one was almost the death of me.

But my Milo here," she said, placing the tips of her claws lightly on Milo’s shoulder as her tail drooped slightly before firming back up.

"Milo’s heart is of a different color, and he will follow Sir Ollie wherever he goes, into any battle he fights for as long as he can. "

"Mother," Milo started, only for his mother to grip his shoulder firmly to interrupt him.

"Did I say it was a bad thing?" Old Nan teased.

"You’re much like Sir Ollie, and Lady Heila too," she said proudly. "Even if I tease this old goat," she said, shooting a brief, knowing look at Achim. "He helped raise a good granddaughter, and I’m proud that you’ll have her watching over you when you go to war with Sir Ollie. Knowing she’s on your side... it puts an old woman’s heart at ease. "

Sitting in the middle of the table, Kaisen and Helga exchanged deeply puzzled looks as the conversation flowed around them. Heila had done something to humiliate the giant Tuscan warrior and his men, forcing them to surrender?

As one of his youngest daughters, Kaisen still remembered the days when he had to watch over her playing in streams. She’d taken an extra year or two to grow out of the clumsiness that came with her horns growing in, and she had a tendency to get her horns caught on things in the water where she might not be able to breathe.

It didn’t feel like enough time had passed for her to do something that would reduce such a powerful warrior to surrendering. .. in shame and humiliation, no less!

Helga wore a similarly stunned expression on her face.

Her daughter had ordered a powerful witch to spare Lord Ritchel’s life?

The same daughter who struggled to raise her voice in arguments with her siblings, who backed down from conflicts instead of hurting another person’s feelings, had become someone who could command the life or death of an Eldritch Lord?

For a moment, both parents began to wonder if there had been some kind of mistake.

If there was another Heila from another village who had done all of these things, and the wrong family had received the invitation.

But Kaisen’s father had personally said that the seal on the invitation was legitimate and the handwriting on the outside of the parchment had clearly been their daughter’s, so there shouldn’t be any mistake.

Somehow, their darling daughter, who had only left the Vale of Mists for six short months, had transformed into.

.. into what? Hearing the way everyone at the table spoke about her, as if they not only respected her, but placed their faith in her to keep their own loved ones safe, left her befuddled parents wondering.

Just what had happened to her while she’d been gone?