A Hope for Tomorrow

### Summary

Having returned from his clandestine meeting with the Cardinal, Etienne lays out the truth of the matter to his ward and house staff, where the four begin the reformation of blades....

It was still dark outside when l'Armand pulled up outside the estate. He had spent the ride back captivated in thought, nearly missing several turnings as he pulled himself back to the reality of the situation. For seven years, he had felt devoid of true purpose. All his life he had trained to, and succeeded in serving king and country. And it had all been taken from him in a flash, to cover up the failings and underhanded dealings of another. Yet tonight, he had been given another chance.

He dismounted from his horse, quietly opening the estate gates before he led the beast through and the two made their way through the courtyard. Stabling his mount, he made sure the horse had fresh water and hay, before he made his way into the estate. All was quiet inside, as per usual. There was no doubt that at this hour, all would be sleeping anyway. Gaspard and Annette in the servant's quarters, and Mathéo in his room. l'Armand gave a deep sigh as he made his way to the pantry, gathering a cup and a jug of wine before taking himself outside into the estate garden, and seating himself at the old oak table underneath the chestnut tree. Though still pitch black outside, the air was cool and comfortable. It had always been alone and in silence that he had felt most at comfort. The years had molded the old soldier into a solitary creature, heeding more to his own company and counsel than that of any other. It was not that he shunned the presence of those around him, but life had been a great teacher of pain, and there were less than a handful of those in the world that he truly trusted. Gaspard, prior among them was l'Armand's oldest counted friend, having served the family as a servant since his and Etienne's youth. While the two were from different social backgrounds, they had nonetheless formed an ironclad bond and friendship over the decades, with Gaspard serving not only as Etienne's faithful servant, but his confidant. Then there was Annette, Gaspard's daughter. A pretty young thing, Gaspard and his wife Elise had been overjoyed when they had learned of their pregnancy, with Etienne and his then family joining in with the anticipation. Alas, when the day came, the child was safely delivered, but at the cost of Elise's life. Gaspard had raised his daughter as a single father, but with aid from Etienne's own wife Millicent. Annette grew up in her father's footsteps, serving as young maid within the household and fastidious in her responsibilities to the family that employed her. And last of all was Mathéo. Five years ago, the young man had tried to rob the old soldier, a penniless and homeless thief surviving on the scraps of Paris's waste. L'Armand remembered the encounter like it was yesterday. The young boy of course had been no match for the captain, and was unsuccessful in his efforts, though Etienne saw something in him. There was a fire in his eyes that fought against his circumstances. It was easy to forget when one came from nobility, even a nobility than had near been snuffed out, that very few in the real world would ever have near the opportunity and privilege that they carried, just by circumstance of birth. And so learning of his situation, l'Armand had taken the boy in as a ward of sorts, while closing his heart off to the fact that the young boy reminded the captain of his own lost child. Since then, l'Armand had trained Mathéo in the ways of the soldier and the rapier, though for little purpose. Until now.

l'Armand drained the last of the wine before making his way back inside, and upstairs. The estate was well sized, although many of the rooms had been left to neglect and claimed by dust and cobwebs, with only the kitchen, Etienne's own room and the room now belonging to Mathéo in any semblance of working order.

But there was one other room. Unlike the others, it was not a simple case of it being in disarray, but the door was heavily locked, with only l'Armand having the key. He approached the door and slipped a hand into his doublet, where he kept the key on a thin chin around his neck, procuring it and placing it into the lock, slowly and quietly turning it until a small 'click' sounded. Checking behind him that none were in the vicinity, he slowly pushed the door open and closed it behind him, locking and bolting it. The room was immediately dropped into pitch black, with not a single sliver of light penetrating the darkness, though Etienne knew his way around by memory, and soon lit an oil lamp, the light cutting weakly through the shadows as he held it aloft, turning it towards a polished suit of leather armour that was held on a stand.

“I had my doubts upon the request. But the Cardinal wants the reform of the blades. I cannot say I do not feel a mix of complex emotions at the prospect, but....” He paused, gazing at the armour, and taking out a pendant he carried on him at all times, opening it to behold the portraits of a woman, and that of a young man. “I will carry out His Eminence's wishes. And I will do so with you on my mind. Always.” With that, he snuffed out the lamp and made his way out of the room, locking the door once more and sealing the room. He was about to make his way to his room, as his muscles and bones were tied, and his legs sore from rising, when he heard the most miniscule creaking, that would even go unheard by all but the most astute. A tiny gleeful smirk broke out on his face, hidden by the dark. “I should have expected you would not be in sound rest.”

For countless nights he had performed the same routine. Those of the estate would slowly retire for the night aside from the caretakers who might stay up past their time in order to finish the needed errands or tasks. Matheo would finish the evening routine; drills, chores, errands… whatever was asked of him. Usually, after the evening’s meal is when most would grow quiet. He would retire to his room, lay in bed for a stretch of time. Then, when all was quiet and he was sure none would be listening Mathéo would move. Opening the window just enough, he would squeeze through and climb his way up to the rooftop of the estate. Years of doing the same thing nearly every night, he learned his tricks. The window could only be opened so much before it would creak, alerting the more hearing-inclined inhabitants of the estate to perk a brow and go investigating. Most of the time it was Etienne who may question the sound, only to have caught the boy a fair number of times sneaking out to do just what he was currently doing. Windows that only opened so much, certain boards to step on in order to keep the others from creaking, and just the right spot to sit on the rooftop so as not to draw too much attention to himself from the streets below. Nights like tonight, where Master l’Armand had stepped out without so much as a word to any, Mathéo could curiously await the grizzled man’s return whilst gazing upon the stars he had come to know all too well. So much so, that his eyes had learned to pick up on certain patterns in the night sky. Constellations, as Mathéo had come to learn, seemed to fill the night sky wherever one’s eyes wandered. Seemingly just out of reach, Mathéo often spent long nights studying the sky. For years now he would spend hours, finding the same stars over and over, discovering even the smallest speck of one nestled amongst these constellations, and maybe even noticing something different every now and again.

The sound of a creaking gate and horse’s hooves on soft earth caught his attention. It was late, though it was not the lateness of the evening that piqued Mathéo’s curiosity, it was the purpose to which Etienne had set out for earlier. His hands skillfully gripped parts of the walls as the young man made his way back into the estate, carefully closing the window and making sure to leave no trace that he had not been in bed prior to that moment. After realizing that the old man had chosen to take some time outside, Mathéo plopped himself into an old wooden chair, idling on the edge of a darkened hallway, and waited. At some point further, not maybe an hour or more, Mathéo had found reason to rise from his idling spot as he heard the old doors from the courtyard open and close, a sound which he had grown quite familiar with in the passing years. He positioned himself accordingly with no intention to disturb the grizzled man that was undoubtedly headed to his rooms. Using the natural darkness of the old house, Mathéo scooted further out of the way, back towards his own rooms… until a stray, squeaky floorboard betrayed him. The slightest creak, but enough for the young man to know he was caught as the dark figure of his Master stopped, his ears undoubtedly catching the mistake in footing. Accepting his defeat, the boy stepped forward and out of the cast of the shadows, His head bowed to l’Armand, no doubt in respect as he accepted the wit and smarts of the old man.

“Rest refused to come easily tonight. Master.” he admitted, though while also shielding a white lie he felt confident the older man would never know of. Sleep would never come easily to those who preferred to spend the night stargazing. “‘Sides, I couldn’t help but notice your absence at one point. It’s not often you leave without a word.” He pointed out.

While there were obvious inaccuracies in Mathéo's confessions, l'Armand dismissed them in his mind. Better he be sneaking out to gaze upon the night sky, which he had been caught doing before, than engaging in behaviours of his old life. The last thing he needed was the town guard turning up at his door in the dead of night. In the early days of the relationship between the two, such had been the reality on several occasions, with l'Armand coming upon a commotion at the front doors whereby Gaspard was trying to reason with two of the king's men holding a scrawny boy. But Etienne has to give Mathéo credit where it was due. While difficult at first, the lad had developed over the years, from a wayward troublemaker to the makings of a fine young man. Etienne had schooled the boy, with assistance from Gaspard, in how to read and write, how to take up a sword and defend himself, how to study the layout of the land, and map the stars in the heavens. Much as he kept up a barrier of his gruff and unapproachable persona, l'Armand could not help but feel invigorated by the relationship once more, as he had when he had taught his son similar studies.
“My coming and goings are for my business only.” he began, half intending to give his ward a lecture on his habit of commenting on things not of his status. But he relayed. Life would soon become more demanding than Mathéo had ever known before, and it was only right that he now be informed. “I apologise Mathéo. I have......news which must be announced.” The hour was more than later, with l'Armand only having returned to the estate well past midnight, but this could not wait. “I will have to keep you up for a while longer I regret. Gaspard will need to be made aware, and so I shall wake him. If you would wait for us in the drawing room.” The room in question had not been used near at all over the last seven years, as was the situation with many of the rooms in the estate, and was in a state of decay. Etienne's sudden decision to use it must have meant something.

While Mathéo made his way downstairs, Etienne swept the upstairs, checking that he had not been followed home, nor were there any within a near vicinity who could overhear what was about to be discussed. The information of which he would soon speak was classified at the highest level, and only those it would directly affect should be notified. Satisfied with his findings, he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen and pantry, where the servant's quarters lay beyond. He knocked upon the door, politely but with a firm rap of his knuckles, until he heard a stirring and a small groan. The door opened and Gaspard came into view, looking slightly disheveled but holding himself as always with poise.

“Greetings master.” In this situation, the one of lower status would usually bow, although the familiarity between the two men went back decades. While Etienne was indeed Gaspard's employer, and Gaspard Etienne's servant, the two saw each other in a more, almost brotherly light. While Gaspard still greeted l'Armand accordingly of their working relationship, Etienne trusted no one more. Coming into the employ of the l'Armand family almost four decades past, Gaspard had been privy to much of his master's life, and Etienne his. They had each witnessed the birth of one another's children, the loss of loved ones, and of course Etienne's fall from grace. Gaspard was a constant in Etienne's life, and the old soldier hoped it would always be so.

“I apologise for waking you old friend. But there is something we must discuss. If yourself and Annette would meet me in the drawing room.” Gaspard's eyes betrayed his confusion at the request.

“The.....drawing room monsieur?” Etienne nodded, a sliver of a confused yet hopeful smile upon his lips.

“All shall be revealed there. Now, promptly if you please.” Gaspard stood completely upright, gave a low bow and closed the door, no doubt going to wake his daughter and ready themselves. Etienne made his way back through the kitchen and into the old drawing room, where Mathéo already awaited him, carrying a dully lit oil lamp. Aside from the light of the flame, the room was thrown into darkness. Drapes, however moth eaten, covered all the windows, shutting out any light from outside.

“Fine work.” He mused to the boy, commenting on his foresightful bringing of a light source. “Gaspard and Annette will be joining us shortly.” He could feel Mathéo brimming with anticipation at whatever news l'Armand held. But not a word would be said on the matter until they were complete.

Minutes later, they were joined by the servant and maid, with Gaspard entering last and pulling to the doors to the room, producing a ring full of keys, and locking the four in.

“I assume you also checked for any unwanted visitors?” l'Armand asked the straw-haired butler, to which he nodded.

“Astutely monsieur. I made sure that all entryways are locked, and scoured the lower levels. We are alone.” Etienne nodded, taking the lamp from Mathéo, and making sure the three gathered before him were giving their full attention.

“I assume that you all will have noticed that I took leave of the estate earlier, without any prior explanation. While I have reminded our youg ward.” He turned to Mathéo and raised his brows before carrying on. “That where I travel and when is my business and my business alone, there has been a development which no longer concerns only myself.” Whereas Mathéo and Annette may have been in confusion, he could assume that Gaspard had maybe an inkling of that which he spoke of. “What I am about to speak of CANNOT leave this room, and I cannot emphasise how much this must be kept to ourselves for the time being.” He waited for the three to show an understanding of his words. “Tonight, my presence was requested by the Cardinal. His Eminence has intel to suggest that France, and the King subsequently, is in danger from outside forces known to few. And it has been placed upon myself to lead the charge against this threat.” He knew it would mean little to the two youngest in the room, but Gaspard would understand more than most the next revelation. “Cardinal Richelieu has once again asked that I form the Blades.”

To be in denial that his observation was not going to be met with a stern lecture would've made Mathéo a fool. So when his misplaced observation was met with a quick correction and reminder of his station, and then a request for a meeting, well the boy could not help but be surprised. He listened intently to l'Armand's words, nodding once as an indication that he understood when it was pointed out he would be required to stay awake a little longer. After receiving his direction to await the company of l'Armand and the others in the drawing room, Mathéo moved past his master and down the hall. He took some extra time to seek out a source of light, for he knew the room would be dark and dusted especially given the time.

He waited patiently until the others joined him. His keen eyes watched as Gaspard made sure the room was sealed, and listened intently when l'Armand asked about any possible unwelcome guests. His mind turned over different thoughts and questions, his curiosity piqued as he put different clues and actions together to form an idea of what was happening. The silent departure and late return, the locked door and need for privacy. He felt anticipation in it all, but kept himself still and calm as best he could as he handed off the lantern to l'Armand with a nod. Where l’Armand remained standing, Mathéo did as well. He stood casually, though his arms held respectfully behind his back as he listened, some of his weight resting on one leg as he leaned slightly, intrigued at what Etienne was saying.

Fingers idly played with a small sliver of wood he had picked up off the floor of the drawing room when he had entered. His eyes did not leave Master l’Armand for even a second, the boy obviously invested in the words being spoken from the old soldier. In the end, Mathéo felt as if he had far more questions than answers as his eyes left l’Armand and looked down, a puzzled look coming upon his face.

“The Blades?” He began, his gaze returning to l’Armand as the statement turned question was asked. Had Mathéo been his younger self, he at one point would have even been puzzled at the mention of Cardinal Richelieu. When he was younger, his only thoughts were on his next meal, the next day, and caring for those he had grown close to while living on the streets; other kids of his stature that had banded together to survive. They were forced to band together, a long standing promise of aid and loyalty amongst the group of filthy orphans. They were forced to help each other, because there was no one that would help them. For a brief moment Mathéo reflected on this, though his thoughts quickly returned to that present moment.

“Are the Blades not that of the King… of his regiment of Musketeers? The ones we heard stories about on the streets?” Mathéo’s gaze moved from Annette, sharing visible confusion before it moved to Gaspard, and finally back to l’Armand.

l'Armand understood his young ward's confusion at the term he had unveiled on the room's gatherers. While he of course was more familiar than any with the name, along with Gaspard who had been the most stalwart of confidants throughout the blades' original iteration, he knew the name would be lost on Mathéo. After all, it had been seven years since their discharge at the orders of Richelieu, with the boy only having come into Etienne's life a near half decade back. Annette showed equal signs of confusion and those of vague remembrance, having only been a child at the disbandment, but l'Armand knew that whatever the situation, she would follow her father.

“An astute observation Mathéo. One could easily believe that the King's musketeers would indeed carry the title. The blades were...” He paused, correcting himself in a hazy state of disbelief. “Are, a secretive formation, created on the order's of His Eminence to protect France. And I understand the confusion, for the musketeers are also tasked with protecting France, and the King himself.” He sighed heavily, recalling his past life among the comrades he had called brothers, now lost to the world. “Ten years ago, the Cardinal tasked me with leading a force of several of France's finest soldiers, musketeers all, dubbing us 'The Cardinal's Blades'. We were all men of honour and valour, who had been tested by battle time and time again, truly ready to fight and die for King and country. Our task was to be the hidden weapons of the Cardinal, to be wielded against forces unseen and in matters of state secret. Whereas the musketeers are the champions of the people, and all their triumphs are clear to see, we were sent on missions of political fragility, threats unknown to the public. While our use was to any threat the Cardinal deemed noteworthy, our main task was to keep an eye on, and prevent the formation of what is known as a lodge.” The next part was always the hardest to explain, especially to those who had never heard of such things. “You are all aware of course of the dragonets that populate the city, flying about freely or kept as pets. And the drakes and wyverns employed by the King's army. And of course, the dracs. They all stem from a common ancestor, known as the Ancient Dragons. Long dead, these monstrosities once roamed the world, colossal bastions of savagery and destruction. While they are a thing of the past, their descendants however, are not. Though few in number, they walk among us, the Dragons. Though they take on human form, the Dragons are the spawn of the old beasts, and their sole aim is to place humanity under their heel, ruling over all. Dragons however, have always worked individually, and with different methods to one another, resulting in many failures to accomplish their goal. However, in recent years, one of them in particular has rallied them, creating what we call lodges, a group of Dragons who infiltrate society to gain status and recognition, worming their way into royal courts and at the ears of nobles. As far as we know, lodges have now been established in Spain and Portugal thanks to the efforts of this sole Dragon, known only as The Alchemist. If words are to believed, there are currently efforts to construct lodges in England and Germany also, and most notable to ourselves, France. We fought against these efforts happening, and were successful in our mission, but at a great cost to us all. We were instructed by the Cardinal in 1628 to infiltrate the ongoing siege at La Rochelle. There was suspicion that the Protestant effort was being bolstered from behind the scenes with help from the Alchemist, having made a deal with the Duke of Buckingham. While we were successful in part in preventing an attempt behind the lines that would have resulted in a turn for the worse, one of our own betrayed us, having switched sides unknown to us. As a result, most of the blades were killed, with only myself and one other surviving. In the after math, the Cardinal disowned us, as any link of a secretive group to himself would have diminshed his own standing and career. The two of us remaining went our separate ways. And so it was for the last seven years, until last night, I was summoned by His Eminence to once again reform the blades, as the threat of the Dragons has returned. They have organised more than ever, forming themselves into a collective known as The Dark Eye, and seek once more to instill a lodge into France. However, this time around, there will be none of the King's men to aid me in this task, as the Cardinal has refused to send any more men of great renown to their death.”

“And I suspect to save his own reputation.” muttered Gaspard, quite uncharacteristically. Etienne shot him a look, causing the old butler to avery his eyes in shame.

“So, the Cardinal has tasked me with recruiting whoever will come to our aid, and with the necessary skills and character to face this threat. Our names will not be remembered. We will gain no glory, no fame or riches. But without us, France shall surely fall to an era of Draconic rule. And this must be prevented at all costs.” He waited for the revelation to sink in. While Gaspard of course knew all of this, it would be almost life changing news to the younger two. L'Armand waited for their reply and to field any questions.

Whether intentional or not, it was as if Etienne commanded attention of the entire room anytime he spoke. Attention, respect; that is what he would receive anytime the old soldier spoke to Mathéo. For those that did not know the young ward well, they might have been impressed at his ability to focus and listen, and the respect he gave especially to l'Armand when words were being spoken. In reality, he had been raised the last five years by a man who commanded such respect, and taught that to disrespect someone with such authority and station would be as if one was burning a bridge that would never be able to be rebuilt. In his younger years Mathéo learned quickly that if he was to remain in the l'Armand household, we would do as told and learn to behave and listen. l'Armand made it very clear that if he did not shape up and grow into a gentleman, he would not be allowed to stay.

Mathéo quickly caught on to Etienne and Gaspard's teachings after that. Some things came more natural than others; swordplay, strategy, the art of listening even. The boy did find some difficulty with firearms, common courtesies, and of course... manners. Of course, he eventually learned what was expected of him which is why he stood tall and proud next to his Master at that moment.

As Etienne explained it all, Mathéo slowly absorbed what was being said. Some things he did not completely understand, but he made sure to organize his thoughts so that any questions ask would not come out sounding like a jumbled mess. *Priorities...* he thought. Eyes moved from Etienne, to Gaspard. He could tell the old servant was more in the know than himself. The expression upon his face, the things he stated and how he held himself currently... he did not obviously share the same confusion as the two youngest in the room. Then Mathéo looked to Annette. Some days, he considered her his best friend of sorts. Other days, she was a force to be reckoned with and shared his same sense of mischief and youthful attitude. He had most definitely taken the blame for her at times for Mathéo most definitely thought of her fondly. Though sometimes he wonders to himself if more may come of their relationship.

His focus moved outward again, eyes returning to his Master as all was finally explained. Questions came and sorted themselves into a small list in his mind. *Priorities...* he reminded himself again, his fingers idly playing with the sliver of wood he still held behind his back as he listened. He cleared his throat a little as some silent stretched on. No doubt he and Annette were most likely waiting to see who might ask the first question. His eyes focused on Etienne and a sincere look came over his face as he straightened himself a little.

Two important questions battled for priority in Mathéo's mind. But after just a moment more he finally decided to speak. "Then you'll be fulfilling his request?" he asked. It was probably obvious, to someone such as Etienne, the purpose behind why he asked what he did, first.

Mathéo assumed what was to come near the end of this conversation. Though, his young mind wanted to clear up the less obvious questions first. Or perhaps, he was feeling out the old soldier without realizing it... something Etienne would undoubtedly realize himself.

A small silence after the briefing was to be expected. After all, it was the first Mathéo would have heard of the revelations. Though, as he had explained, nearly all within Paris were aware of the dragonets that zipped through the air without a care in the world, to the inhuman dracs that inhabited Île de la Éscailles, very few knew as to the true nature behind them, as to what had come before. Though as unbelievable as it sounded, the world had at a time, been populated by the colossal terrors known as the Ancient Dragons. They had been harbingers of death and destruction, crushing all in their path and reducing entire landscapes to cinders in their wake. With wings that seemed to blot out the sun, they had been the nightmare of even the most valiant of men, and had seemed nigh unstoppable until the church had secretly begun to reverse engineer the arcane magic that that dragons wielded. While the step did not instantly eradicate their foes, the dragons were culled over time, the last which was noted to be slain around the 13th century. But while they were gone, their descendants lived on. It was largely unknown how they came to be, although speculation hinted towards to the bond between an Ancient Dragon and a human, whose name was lost to time. These Dragons lacked the monolithic stature of their forebearers, though still stood heads above the tallest of men. And they came with their own advantages and evolutions, intelligence being one, with the ability to disguise themselves as human and infiltrate society, without any knowing as to their true identities. And with their intelligence and knowledge of the sires came a belief of blood superiority, and that they were meant to rule over the world of man. Some fought alongside their bestial counterparts, while even after they were gone others tried to assert their rule by force. But even these higher beings were no match for the collective armies and forces of mankind, and so the remaining of them fled, hiding themselves from the world, and all was thought to be safe once more. But in their self-imposed exiles, they began to plan, spurred on in particular by a Dragon who would come to be known as the Alchemist. So it was that their work to usurp from within came about. Instead of displays of power and force that had been the defeat of them before, they would work their ways into the core of society, climbing the rungs of power until they could cast influence on those around them, and consequently rise to the top themselves.

Among the few who knew the truth of the matter, Richelieu was one, and seeing how the powers of Spain and Portugal had already been ensnared, he was determined not to let his beloved France suffer the same fate. And so it was that he had needed agents who not only possessed skill, but were let in on this secret, and would be willing to whatever was necessary to prevent such a thing. But the original blades had met with failure, not of their own but of betrayal from the inside, with one of their own revealing his allegiances to be tied with the Dragons themselves, a betrayal which resulted in the deaths of all but three of them, the traitor included.

Etienne watched the face of his young ward, and realised how farfetched the tale could sound to those who had never known anything of the sort. But Mathéo as always was displaying signs of, while not completely understanding, an acceptance of the fact, and a resolve to see through whatever was asked of him. As for Annette, the tale had likely jogged memories for her, though the facts would hardly change her life. She would do as she had always done, carry on as a maid of the estate, though possibly with more occupants than she was used to in the coming days. Both Etienne and Gaspard were more or less aware of the bond between the younger inhabitants of the household. It was plain to see that they cared for each other, with rogue glances here and there. It had been a subject discussion on several nights where l'Armand and Gaspard had sat with a cup of wine and setting the world to rights.

In answer the the boy's question, Etienne gave a gentle nod.

“Yes. The Cardinal works after all for the good of France and the King, although at times his methods may seem.....unorthadox. And he would not have requested my reinstated help unless he had few other options. So I will do my duty once more for King and country, but from behind the scenes and in the dark, unbeknownst those who sleep soundly, with only the trials of tomorrow on their minds.” He turned to Gaspard. “You are with me old friend?” Gaspard smirked and lightly chortled in response to the question.

“As if you had to ask otherwise monsieur. And I am sure my daughter will have no qualms as to joining us in whatever it is you need us to do.” Etienne nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to Mathéo.

“When I took you in, I could not decide on my reason for doing so. Whether it was sheer altruism, or seeing something in you that reminded me of the past. While I still do not have the answers, I do believe it has led us to these turn of events, and indeed this moment. So my question to you is a simple one.” His eyes met his ward's, with a stoic gaze. “Will you follow?”

Mathéo watched the man who stood in front of him; listened as he spoke and tried his best to understand just what was being explained and ultimately, what was being asked of him. The last five years of his life had been filled with trial and tribulation. He was constantly working towards the acceptance and respect of the man standing in front of him. l'Armand had undoubtedly saved from from a life of filth and squalor and most likely had saved his life altogether. Not many young people make it on the streets of Paris, even with the support of the other street rats and orphans running about.

Even now, Mathéo valued what remained of the orphans who still lived on the streets. Those that he knew and looked up to when he was younger had either perished, moved on, or disappeared. All that were left were the younger ones, the ones that needed help and needed someone to look up to. Given the opportunity he has, Mathéo had often spent his free time using whatever coin he was allowed to purchase dry goods and other small necessities for the street orphans he cared for. Trips out to the lower streets and dilapidated parts of the city were constant over the last few years. In return, the younger kids usually told Mathéo things they knew, things they heard and anything he might find useful. It had come in handy a few times, however there was never a real need for the secrecy and information gathering before this moment. But Mathéo had a feeling that it was about to change.

Acceptance, respect, Mathéo knew he had achieved those from l'Armand in some capacity. Though over the last couple of years the boy had always felt a desire for something more, though even now he wasn't sure what else there was to want. So he worked, and studied, and trained constantly to maintain what he had earned so far. So when the question was poised to him Mathéo met l'Armand's gaze with the same fiery look he had always carried. Silence carried naught but for a second as the boy straightened himself up, arms still held casually behind his back, and he nodded to l'Armand, speaking, "I will."

Mathéo spoke firmly and confidently, with not a hint of hesitation or doubt as he answered the grizzled soldier. He knew not what this acceptance would bring him, nor did he quite understand the dangers of what was being asked. It mattered not however because all that Mathéo wanted to was the acceptance of all that stood in this room, and to be able to protect what remained of his family of orphans who dwelled in the filth and squalor of Paris.

Etienne could tell the boy was sincere in his answer. Mathéo had certainly come a long way since the old captain had encountered him on the proximity of the Dupont, trying to cut Etienne's coinpurse out of desperation. Armed with only a rusting dagger, the boy had stood before him, the deathlike pallor of the skin that clung to his bones. It was no way for anyone to live, let alone a young boy, though sadly it was all too commonplace on the streets of Paris. But there was something about the boy, some will of fire within him that reminded the captain of his own son. And here they stood now, master and loyal ward. l'Armand doubted that Mathéo truly contemplated the entire nature of what he was being asked, and felt a pang of guilt in knowing he was leading the boy into a crusade for which he could never be truly prepared, a tomorrow that would always grant uncertainty. Alas, if they were lax in the task ahead, then that tomorrow could disappear altogether. l'Armand nodded without words at first, looking around at the three gathered before him. Soon, he hoped, that number would greaten, even if it would not be filled with the faces of his old brothers-in-arms.

“I thank you all for being here. We have a monumentous trial ahead of us, and I will make no guarantees of false promises that all will be well come the end. We will be placing our lives on the line for a cause greater than our own, and no reward save another dawn shall be ours. From the morn, I shall set about bolstering our numbers. Though our old comrades are lost to us.” Gaspard bowed his head and crossed himself in respect at the mention, having known and been a dear friend to all the departed former blades. “I have several leads on whom I suspect will make worthy additions to the cause. I will ask each one I find to convene here in several days time, where I will lay out our cause in full to all, and only hope we gain new allies.” He gave a weary sigh, shaking his head. “We shall be the Cardinal's agents in name only. His Eminence has made his stance clear that while he entrusts us with this task, we are otherwise alone. Any resources will be ours alone to procure and handle.” He looked around at the dilapidated room, conjuring memories and visions in his mind. “In preparation for new faces, I think it is time that we finally make an effort to restore the estate to a livable condition. My dear friend.” He turned to Gaspard, who nodded, as if knowing already what was asked of him. “I ask that you and Annette primarily see to this. As for you boy.” he now turned to Mathéo. “Assist them where possible, but also focus on your training. You will need it more than ever in the days to come. But for now, I suggest we all get some rest. There will be much work to do in the next few days.”

At first light, Etienne made his way down through the estate, taking some small morsels from the pantry before heading outside to the disheveled stables where the sole horse, Mirebeau chomped lazily on a bundle of hay. Etienne patted his flanks, running his hands along the beast's sides.

“We have work to do old friend.” With that, he prepared his companion, saddling and reining him, before mounting and setting off. The cocks crowed as the world woke once more.