Chapter 2 "Southreach"
The sky was still dark, but the morning routine of the Greyhold family had already begun.
For a household whose livelihood depended entirely on livestock, dawn was never a starting bell. It was a deadline. They rose long before the sun, when the land was quiet and the air still cool, to tend the animals that sustained them.
The pens were already stirring. Even in the deep hours before sunrise, the livestock were awake. It was etched into their very existence, whether driven by climate, hunger, or instinctual survival. They moved and breathed and listened while the world still slept, long before the first hint of light touched the horizon.
To be a shepherd was not merely to herd, but to observe. Animals could not speak to their caretakers, not with words. Their needs were written instead in subtle signs. A restless step, a lowered head, a change in breathing, the way an ear flicked or a tail stilled. A shepherd had to learn that language, to understand what could not be asked for directly.
But this was never a problem for Braxon.
"Father, why are you always inside the cart, sleeping, and not guiding the horse?" Anya asked curiously, peeking over the wooden side.
Braxon chuckled softly. "Ah, that's nothing," he replied. "My bond with Old Gray is built on trust. We don't communicate with words, only with understanding."
Kai, sitting nearby, nodded eagerly. "Ever since I was little, about your age, Old Gray always knew what to do and where to go. He's a very intelligent horse."
Anya's eyes sparkled. "Then our Old Gray is the best!" she shouted happily.
Old Gray flicked an ear at the sound of his name, snorted once, and continued forward without slowing, steady, confident, and certain of the road ahead.
Southreach
Southreach was the southern capital of Aethermoor, a fortified trade city built where the open plains met the old knight roads. Wide stone avenues ran between wooden market halls and iron-roofed barracks, carrying a constant flow of caravans, livestock carts, and Iron Host patrols. Though its walls and watchtowers reflected unending vigilance, the city itself felt grounded and alive, shaped by labor, tradition, and quiet loyalty rather than noble excess. As the heart of southern agriculture and commerce, Southreach supplied grain, livestock, and war mounts to the continent while standing as the first shield against any threat rising from beyond the plains.
By the time the Greyhold cart reached Southreach, the sky had begun to pale from ink-dark to bruised blue. The southern capital's outer market was already alive, lanterns still burning while merchants shouted greetings and arguments in equal measure. The scent of fresh bread, iron, livestock, and damp earth blended into a familiar haze that settled over the square like a living thing.
Wooden stalls lined the wide stone road in uneven rows. Farmers unloaded crates of grain and vegetables, blacksmiths hammered last-minute repairs into dented armor, and caravans from distant outposts rolled in with dust-stained banners fluttering weakly in the morning breeze. Above it all loomed the southern wall, thick and scarred, its watchtowers crowned with the Iron Host's banners.
Old Gray casually stopped the cart at their usual spot near the fountain, where the stone basin overflowed with clear water drawn from channels fed by the World Tree's distant roots. The horses guided by old hag halted without command. Old Gray snorted softly, stamping once before settling.
"Told you," Kai said, hopping down from the cart. "He knows."
Braxon smiled faintly. "Don't let him hear you say that. He'll start charging extra."he said jokingly
Anya laughed as she jumped down after her brother, nearly tripping over her own boots. "Father, what can I help today?"
"You can help organize the eggs. Carefully."
"With all my care!" Anya answered lively.
Kai began unloading crates, moving with practiced ease. People noticed him as they always did. Not because he was loud or boastful, but because animals leaned toward him. A nervous mule calmed as he passed. A pair of hounds stopped barking, tails wagging instead. Even the pigeons clustered near his feet, pecking lazily at the stones.
A knight approached the stall soon after, armor marked with the Iron Host's sigil. He inspected a chestnut foal with a professional eye. The foal had a glossy reddish-brown coat, a mane and tail of slightly lighter hue, and bright, curious eyes.
(Foal is a young horse)
"Strong legs," the knight said. "Good temperament."
"She'll hold formation," Braxon replied. "Doesn't spook easily."
The knight glanced at Kai. "Your boy train her?"
Kai stiffened. "Just… brushed her."
The knight snorted. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. I trust in your horses you grow" He lowered his voice. "South patrol's been doubled. Something's got command uneasy."
Braxon's hand paused mid-motion. "Storm coming?"
"Clear skies," the knight muttered. "That's what worries us."
The knight's gaze lingered on the foal, taking in her glossy coat and steady stance. "How much for her?" he asked again, voice low but insistent.
"She's for sale," Braxon replied calmly, wiping his hands on his apron. "But she's not cheap. Good bloodlines, steady temperament, and strong legs. I won't part with her for less than a fair price."
The knight nodded, examining the foal as if weighing every detail. "I understand. How much?"
Braxon met his eyes evenly. "Two gold crowns. That's fair for what she's worth, and I won't haggle down to scraps."
The knight's brow furrowed, then he gave a curt nod. "Two crowns it is. I'll take her. Make sure she's well-fed until we leave."
Kai watched, a mix of pride and excitement fluttering in his chest. "Father… she's going to someone who will ride her?"
Braxon ruffled his hair. "Aye, but that's the way of it. Some leave our hands to do greater things. She'll be in good care, don't worry."
Anya bounced on her toes. "Can we watch her go?"
"Later," Braxon said gently. "Right now, finish with the crates. The market won't wait."
The knight patted the foal's neck once before leading her away. Her ears flicked back once, then forward again, as if acknowledging the people who raised her. Kai felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of her leaving, but also a spark of pride.
"She'll remember us," Kai murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
"Every horse does," Braxon said quietly, eyes following the foal until she disappeared into the bustle of Southreach.
The market carried on around them, alive with shouting vendors and clattering carts, but for a moment, the Greyhold family stood in quiet satisfaction, knowing another creature from their care would now carry a piece of their world into the wider continent.
Kai picked up another crate, his hands steady, mind already half on the next task, as the market became more busy and lively. People flocked to stalls and goods moved faster with the rising sun.
When the sun was fully risen, their goods were almost gone. Anya ran to her father, excitement dancing in her eyes.
"Dad, can I go to the other side of the fountain? The bard is starting his performance!"
"That's the true reason you came here," Kai muttered.
"Dad, please!" Anya gave a pleading look at Braxon.
"Okay, take your brother with you. There's a lot of people; you might get stepped on."
"Brother?" Anya smiled at him with a teasing tone.
"Yes, I will," Kai agreed helplessly.
Ever since she was little, Anya had been direct about what she wanted. She loved stories and music, always lively even when still in her mother's womb. Kai, by contrast, was dependable and hardworking, often grumpy when forced into her whims, but always protective of his sister.