Arise, A Knight Ch. 02

**(Author's Note): This and the next chapter is just to introduce our female leads, the sisters Merinda and Meriska Schans, to set up their characters.

***Thank you for taking the time.

Merinda Schans fingers shook as she tried to light the wick of the topmost floor of the tower. She stopped halfway, annoyed at how even her own body rebelled against her with the coming of the night. It was unnecessary, coming into account with the heavily decreased inhabitants of Schans Manor but she despised the dark corners, an ever present reminder of their fading glory.

She treaded the great hall, looking towards the windows to the setting sun. It was best to do this now than in complete darkness. Now with some time to spare before supper, she headed her way towards the living hall.

Portraits of generations past loomed over her as she walked past by, their painted hollow gaze seeming to follow her with each lonesome step echoing in the cavernous halls. But only one of these did her ever spare a glance. She ran a hand to this one, bearing both her late parents. The most recent additions in the Schans family legacy.

She wondered if ever one would soon follow these long line of Schans.

Such thoughts weighed heavily and sunk her hopes in the ever increasing weight of the family's future.

Merinda acquitted herself in her father's chair and fished out her smoking pipe from the adjacent table, when she noticed that the fireplace still cold. By reflex she was nearly flummoxed at the laxness of the oversight.

Merinda stoked the fires, she realized there was no wood. None at all.

She had about opened the door when a small clattering of plates brought her attention to their family's current estate. Foolishness. They had just about a single maid left. She did not blame Lottie for this oversight. Merinda sighed and went down the stairs.

In all of this, she wondered, where was her sister?

She went outside. The bite of the coming night air told her to make this quick and over with. Already it was starting to twilight. But her was just a bit enough left.

Back when their parents were still alive. Their household composed of over thirty seven servants from cooks to stable hands and even those that worked on the fields. And over a hundred heads of cattle

Now there was only four of them. Her the lady of the house. A maid and a peasant boy.

The weight was familiar. Her mother saw to it that she was self-sufficient enough. The same cannot be said for her sister, of which they tend to spoil from time to time.

Only a meager pile remained. They had sent Rickard to make rounds on their accounts, to be credited much to her dislike in their surmounting debt. If not for the good will her parents had established, she doubted the folks of the county would spare much. As an added measure not to sow any discontent among them, she ordered Rickard to up and into the deep forest. She wondered if Rickard could pull it off. From what she gathered, the boy had spent some time there as a child. Lotte assured her that Rickard has his ways around town, whatever that may mean.

She raised the axe and swung down, hitting it smack in the center. But not all the way through.

With twist of the wrist and boot in place she managed to split the log into two.

She placed another. This time aiming not at the center but the block it laid one.

A satisfying plop of wood as it was split into two. She did it a few more times. Something to vent her frustrations and woes on. She had a decent enough pile to last through the night. By then much of e land was enshrouded in darkness. As she picked up the logs and locked the door in.

Returning to the study, a familiar figure was now gracing the living room with her presence.

She had to stop a sigh from coming out of her lips, she was beginning to tire of hearing herself sigh. And even more tired at looking at her sister's childish rebellion. For a woman in her early twenties, she sure acted almost half her age.

Times were tough or all in the county, the trading routes were less than travelled. Supplies form, other counties were less and less coming in. The news of an impending Raid from the barbarians, had most of the people leaving in droves, seeking safer shelter amongst relatives and friends in places.

But to those who had none, they were forced to bear through this, hopping for the crises to pass.

And to think that in three weeks' time it was supposed to be the Harvest festival.

She was dressed lavishly. Always staying in one spot.

She plopped a firewood in the dying embers o the fireplace. Loudly.

"Providence!" Meriska bolted upright in the sofa. And then sighed a she realized it was just her elder sister.

"I bought you something" she said.

"Bought?" What do you mean "bought'?" We barely have enough to scrape by!

"It's....It's just from my personal savings. I wanted you wear this on the Harvest Festival."

She nearly cussed her. She sucked in a deep breathe.

"And why pray tell would be celebrating Harvest?"

"Because we'd be leaving...to the capital. Aren't we?"

A hollow scoff came out of Merinda's lips, laced with derision. "I am not abandoning our home."

"I should never have come back here."

"AS if you had a choice, I have no money to send you, what were you going to do? Live out in the streets of the Capitol, you? A Schans!?"

"I have friends, Good friends, they would have welcome me, us, with open arms."

The thought only furthered her sense of shame to be

"Ugghh, Rickard! You could have at least made your self presentable.

Her eyes have gone puffy, red rimmed, right on the verge of crying. "You know...I-I just wanted do a nice thing for you," And with that Meriska stormed off. And all the more did Merinda's heart grow heavy as she tried to soothe the headache she has. "Fuck," she muttered under her breathe.

She was greeted by the smiling face of Rickard. Here was another problem that needed solving, but that can wait for another day. She had to know if they would starve or not in the coming weeks.

"God damn it Rickard. What do you ever do with the wages I give you?" Probably spend it on whatever nonsense he could buy for. The young man has a somewhat childish tendencies despite being what? Eighteen? Nineteen? Best not question, so as not to alienate the peasant. He was prone to wandering the woods to look for fairies or some such peasant nonsense. But he was a hard worker and gives little to no complaints.

She also noticed how Rickard's eyes followed for a bit on Merishka's retreating figure.

He had that dreamy look always head stuck in some cloud somewhere.

One of her sister has brought the idea that he be sacked. But that her being spiteful. He does good work and he does it hard. And well. Barely complains and the townspeople like him

He came in he was somewhat tall if he could manage to stand straight. Quite lean. Very typical of hard working peasants among the county. Though Rickard could take the extra step and have some sort of leaf stick to him.

Alone at last, with nothing but the crackling flame of the fire to accompany her. Out of habit, she came to atop the mantle where a rapier was displayed she took it out its hooks and pulled open a small case just below the mantle. She ran the cloth and oiled the sparkling blade in its entirety. All the while nursing her woes with a good glass of her father's brandy. Who knows when will she have the time for a good enough day to come?

She decided to get a head start for the Harvest celebrations.