I Will Be the Greatest Knight

"Knew your father?" Samson asked in disbelief. "When that child arrived in the valley, that family was quite the spectacle for all of us to see. Had a bit of an accent as well. For a long time, he was ostracized by other kids because of how strange he was. Red hair was even less common those days." 

The former mercenary became more animated as he spoke about years past. When he wasn't moving his hands to explain, he was stroking his beard as he tried to remember a period of time long passed that had only been remembered since the very picture of a Sünsto was standing right in front of him. 

Except for Iro's height. That boy was a bit small from what he remembered of Arthur. 

"His accent is gone," Irene confirmed. "My grandmother, though, she still has it." 

Samson's eyebrows rose. 

"She's still around?" he asked. "I'm quite impressed by that. She spent every day using as much energy as possible. You'd think it would make someone burn out quicker, but longevity is an elusive thing." 

Irene couldn't keep from grinning. She had been missing her father and grandmother quite a lot. It was the longest she had ever gone without seeing them. Deep down, she realized she missed her mother and brother as well. Even if they always gave her a challenge, the moments with them weren't always bad. 

"Yes, grandmother is still around and giving my father trouble," Irene admitted. 

However, the apprentice heard someone clear their throat towards the door and she knew what it meant. 

The girl lifted the bow and arrow from where she held it around her shoulders. She only had three of the four arrows left that she took with her but she made sure to straighten out the feathers the night before, feeling bad she didn't bring a sheath and had tucked them into her belt so thoughtlessly when she was worried about the goblins. 

On the table she found the bow and arrows before, Irene placed the items and her head bowed as it did before. She remembered that she was supposed to be groveling rather than having an easy conversation with someone her father knew. 

"The true reason for my visiting is to return these to their proper owner and apologize," Irene admitted. "Please forgive me for taking your weapons without asking. My dagger wasn't available and I wasn't thinking, only acting, which isn't a good quality for a knight to have."

Samson didn't have kids of his own and he wasn't all that stern despite his appearance. Considering the apprentice seemed to truly feel bad for what she had done, he tried to take it seriously as he looked down at the child bowing to him as if he was some sort of nobleman. 

"You are forgiven, child," Samson responded. "Although that bow was made too small for the person who previously owned it so if you would like to take it, it's all yours. They left the arrows we made for them for that reason as well. There ought to be a sheath for the arrows around here someplace…" 

There were bricks inlaid in the ground below the fires and anvils where items were being hammered into shape. However, underneath the storage area, dirt lined the floor. As the man shuffled around, looking for the item he sought, the only noise for a while was his boots against the ground. 

Irene was in disbelief and stood there silently, waiting patiently until the man returned with a small arrow sheath that would hopefully fit her small frame. 

As the blacksmith presented it to her, her head bowed again. 

"I can't thank you enough, sir," she responded. 

Samson could no longer pretend to have any sternness within him. He threw his head back and laughed. 

"Anything for an old friend's kid," he insisted. "Tell that knight to occasionally make his way down here. We can see which of the two of us are uglier now. He seems like a figure of lore rather than a human being." The man then shook his head. "Wolf of the North!" 

He laughed again at how ridiculous that title felt to him but how happy he was for an old friend to have found success despite what a strange beginning he started from. 

Irene was pleased with this outcome and it seemed Sir Gunnar was as well because he soon appeared in the doorway, unable to ignore the conversation any longer. While Irene talked quietly, the blacksmith could likely be heard from all the way outside even with the occasional clank of the workers shaping an arrow, armor, or sword.

The knight and apprentice said goodbye to the blacksmith before they headed back to the street to do their original plan of going around town and helping people with seemingly menial tasks. Yet it was all part of being a knight. Even on down days free of monsters, there was always something to do to help the people of whichever township you were closest to. 

"You seem to have the luck of your father," Gunnar commented. "People always took to him like that for as long as I can remember." 

"If I have his luck, I hope I have his skill as well," Irene responded. "Even if I can never have his height, I will be okay with strength." 

Gunnar had to laugh at this as well and the knight shook his head. 

As Irene got her things together and tightened the arrow sheath across her chest, Gunnar continued walking. 

"Then we ought to find something for us to do," he instructed. "It's time to get your hands dirty." 

The two of them walked through the town. 

Rather than sticking to the main roads, Gunnar surprised Irene by leading her down side roads where more residential areas were. People easily recognized the man as a knight and would nod at Irene whenever they met her eyes. 

Since knighthood was well understood, people would ask for help if they needed it. 

However, Irene and Gunnar were on alert when they heard shouting down one of the other side streets.