The midday light filtered gently through the tall windows of the Dag estate, illuminating the velvet cushions and the fine embroidery on the furniture with a lazy glow. Fornos Dag, heir to one of the wealthiest merchant families in the region, lay stretched across a fainting couch, his head resting comfortably in the lap of his mother, Mary Dag. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, a motion at once soothing and annoyingly maternal.
"Mother," Fornos murmured without opening his eyes, "am I allowed to leave now?"
"No," Mary replied simply, with the kind of unshakable authority only a mother could wield.
Fornos cracked one eye open, staring up at her. "It's been five days. I've reorganized half the estate's finances, reviewed logistics reports, and replaced the incompetent steward. Is there a goal here, or are you just holding me hostage?"
"While you're under 'mother arrest,'" came Voss's dry voice from the armchair across the room, "you might as well tell us what you were really doing all this time."
"Is this an interrogation or an interview?" Fornos responded with a smirk, still unmoving.
"Yes," Mary said, her tone deliberately unhelpful.
Fornos sat up with a sigh, brushing off invisible dust from his black tunic. "Fine. If you're both so curious."
He stood and began to pace slowly across the plush rug, fingers laced behind his back. He didn't dramatize the moment—his family didn't tolerate flair for flair's sake—but he allowed the weight of his words to carry naturally.
"After the Nevera gathering, I went to retrieve someone—Konos."
Voss raised an eyebrow. "The old golem crafter we dismissed after the council's warning?"
"The same. He was living in a ruin east of the marshes, scavenging metals like some relic-hunter. I gave him an opportunity: build again, or rot. He chose well."
Mary frowned, "You brought him back to the estate?"
"No," Fornos shook his head, "I took him with me to the Fifth Continent."
Voss leaned forward, his fingers steepled. "You took a disgraced engineer to a wasteland."
"I took Kindling and Brassheart as well."
Mary blinked. "Kindling? The new heavy-frame golem?"
"Yes. Twenty feet tall. It can lift thirty-eight tons, possibly more if we reinforce the shoulder seals. Konos was instrumental in optimizing the Macular system. We gave Kindling its first test run there—taming the land, intimidating locals, establishing credibility."
"You brought two golems and a traitorous crafter to a barbarian hellscape," Voss said, tone unreadable.
"Yes. And built a force of one hundred men," Fornos said, "with twenty-five golems, many still undergoing codex optimization. We established supply routes via smaller outposts, and I've begun training a self-sufficient command structure."
Mary slowly stood. "You mean to tell us that in five months, you raised a private army, constructed new golems, and created a logistics chain… all in secret?"
"Yes." Fornos returned to his seat and calmly poured himself a glass of chilled herbwine. "Konos returned to the mainland three weeks ahead of me to begin laying foundations in Varnhollow. It's the perfect location—underground, decentralized, and unpoliced by the noble houses. The Ash Company is hidden there."
"I left Brassheart in Varnhollow to serve as a logistics overseer and trainer for new handlers. Kindling is also there, undergoing enhancements."
There was silence for a long moment.
"You skipped over the fact that you used slave collars and child hostages to make this army," Voss said coldly.
Fornos didn't blink.
"What?" Mary's tone was sharper now.
"Gathering a force of a hundred people and twenty-five golems in five months is not something you do through coin and goodwill," Voss continued. "It is impossible without coercion."
"I offered protection," Fornos said, finally. "The Fifth Continent isn't governed by treaties or noble codes. Raiders, loose Relicts, and internal clan wars made it unlivable. I offered security, food, and employment. But yes, I used leverage. Slave collars were the method of control already in place by warlords—I simply repurposed them."
"And the children?" Mary asked, her voice tightening.
"Their families joined the Company," Fornos said, "on the condition that they'd be protected, fed, and eventually integrated into the support chain. Logistics, cooking, relay maintenance—simple tasks now, but long-term investments."
"Don't dress it up," Voss snapped. "You held them hostage."
Fornos met his father's gaze without flinching. "I ensured loyalty."
"You're becoming something worse than a noble," Voss said. "At least they have the excuse of birthright. You're building an empire with the same ruthless tools."
Fornos downed the rest of the herbwine in a single, smooth motion. "You once knelt before another man in our own estate. I will never let that happen again."
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Mary finally broke it, her tone quieter. "And how long before the Ash Company surfaces? Before your actions draw attention?"
"Soon," Fornos said. "A minor noble outpost was attacked by a pack of wandering Relicts. I plan to 'assist' using mercenaries with no traceable links to me. When they succeed, people will start whispering about the Ash Company—and I'll ensure those whispers are directed away from Dag."
Mary returned to her seat. Her face was pale but composed. "And what happens when the noble houses look deeper?"
"They'll find someone worth fearing." Fornos stood, his shadow stretching long across the floor. "And that's more useful than someone they think they can command."