Florian Laveaux's Arc

Chapter 1 of 10

Florian heard the news at the well, where two merchants argued about which road to take come morning. The lord would pass through Kazia Village at dawn, they said. No guards, no attendants. Just a single rider cutting through on his way to the northern holdings. Florian's hands tightened on the bucket rope. He left the bucket where it stood. The stables marked the old road through the village center, the one lords had used for generations. Florian walked past them twice, studying the ground, the angle of the light. The tavern sat directly across from the stables, its door facing the road. A man could wait there. A man could step forward when the moment came. Back home, Florian cleaned his machete until the iron shone. He laid it on the table beside his tunic. Griffin would ask where he was going when dawn came. Florian would tell him the truth. He always did. This was for both of them, for the life they'd planned, for the knighthood they would share or not have at all. The lord had refused him twice through closed doors and silent guards. Tomorrow there would be no doors. Tomorrow Florian would stand on that road with his blade at his side and his purpose clear in his voice. He would ask his question to the lord's face. Whatever answer came, he would finally have one.