Lydie stood before the Justiciar statue. Her feet protested her upright state, but she felt fairly certain Kenth wouldn't find being squished into the backing of the couches comfortable. Nerves prevented her from asking someone to take him out of the pouch for then someone would have to be found to place him back in. Getting him in this morning had been difficult enough. Thus, Lydie admired the statue, and she watched as a young man, perhaps of sixteen or seventeen years, hurried over to the man who admitted her. He'd placed her papers in an envelope, and now the young man took it, gave it a brief glance, and skittered away once more. Several other young men and women fulfilled similar tasks to keep the flow of bodies coming and going from the line. The majority of those bodies approached the desks, spoke with a worker for a moment, handed over paperwork, and took their leave. Only a small trickle were admitted past. Those who trickled in before her slowly dwindled in numbers as the younger workers called their names to whisk them away.

"Miss Lydie Dvanda?"

Then it was her turn.

"Yes?" she addressed the young woman with long hair tied back in many ornate braids.

"Please follow me. Miss Everson is going to see you."

"Of course."

The youth led her down a wide hallway with a rounded ceiling two stories tall. Smaller corridors broke off every twenty-five feet or so, and it was the third one of the left they turned down. Her guide knocked on the doorframe to a room with its door ajar.

"Miss Everson, I've brought Miss Dvanda."

"Thank you, Wilki. Miss Dvanda, please come in."

The office room offered a cozy space. Walls painted a tranquil gray complemented shelves with books of all colors. A large cabinet's open doors near the desk showed boxes full of neatly kept documents and files. The woman at the desk, however, captivated Lydie's attention the most. Creamy, pale skin shone under the light hanging above. Sun colored hair ran down her back. The brightest blue eyes Lydie had seen yet greeted her warmly. Miss Everson was from Elra, or her lineage at least was.

"Would you like some help with him?" she offered, motioning to Kenth.

"Oh, yes, please."

Lydie hid her long breath of relief from the removal of Kenth's weight from her back and her own weight from her feet as Miss Everson then motioned her to the seat in front of the desk. Wilki had closed the door, which prompted Lydie to let Kenth crawl about the floor. Nothing he could destroy was within reach, and the boy would need to get some sort of exercise today. Thankfully, Miss Everson said nothing about her decision.

"The statement says you have a received an honor token," she addressed her, retaking her seat, "That is the simpler matter, so let's take care of it first. May I see the cloth?"

Lydie handed the item over while watching curiously as Miss Everson took out what appeared to be no more than a simple slab of wood the size of a piece of paper a half inch thick. That simple slab of wood then shone a deep blue light as soon as the cloth lay upon it. Radiant lazuli morphed into emerald green before in a puff of dissipating color the magic faded and a small collection of papers rest on the slab.

"If I may, what was that?" Lydie questioned.

"Several things. There is an infusion on this calling slab which recognizes the magic woven into the cloth. This helps us determine legitimate tokens from imposters unfaithful members of the city attempt to use as cons. Once the token is found to be genuine, the calling slab then brings the appropriate paperwork. I have before me the records of your...Mr. Tomald Nun'ri. I will now need to see your identification."

That was handed over as well. Lydie watched Kenth slowly meander on the floor while Miss Everson scratched away on a document.

"Everything is in order. I will simply need you to sign your name here once you've read the agreement written above." she explained a moment later, pushing the paper in her direction.

"Hold on," Lydie spoke after glancing at the words, "It says he's allocating everything to me upon his death. That can't be right."

"It is so. I doublechecked his part of the contract to make sure there had not been a mistake. It appears Mr. Nun'ri is an orphan from Vahlia. He joined the guards at fifteen and has been serving the army since he turned eighteen. Given that he has no siblings, has taken no spouse, nor had any children his only option then would be to give everything to you. Should he survive, I'm sure he intends to take his own fair portion."

Lydie's hand hesitated above the line meant for her to sign. Her chest drooped even heavier at her insignificant gratitude given towards the man fighting for her. The signature she forced her hand to write wavered.

"How am I meant to pray for his safety? Is there a way to write him letters?"

"The Justiciar has no set way for prayers. You merely wish for Mr. Nun'ri's good health in the way you feel most appropriate. As for letters, you drop off what you would like to send to the nearest postal office. Mail is free if sent to fighting soldiers. You will need to know his position so the office knows where at the border to send it. Mr. Nun'ri currently holds the rank of executive officer under the command of Major Dvaguma of the 12th Battalion. I can write that down for you if you so wish."

"Yes, please."

"Alright. Now, as you have no permanent address we will be unable to send you correspondence in the event of Mr. Nun'ri's death. You will have to check in here to receive updates. I recommend no more than once a month. Otherwise, it will seem as if you are eagerly awaiting such news, and it doesn't have to be said how that would be in poor taste."

"Of course."

"Once you do find permanent lodging, you would come here and fill out a form. Our staff will update your identification. There is no cost."

"I see. Thank you."

"You're welcome. You may have this back," Miss Everson held out the token, "It is not necessary to keep it past this point, although getting rid of it would be in poor taste as well. Mr. Nun'ri clearly worked quite hard on it."

"I believe so as well."

"Yes."

Miss Everson nodded before stretching back in her chair. Her sky blue eyes drew their attention to Kenth, who stood using the wall by the door.

"Would you mind if I held him?" she requested.

"Of course not."

Blessedly, Kenth put up no protests in being placed in Miss Everson's lap. Lydie dreaded the moment he gave her a huge fuss and she wasn't in a comfortable place to deal with the dilemma.

"We are waiting for Wilki to bring us the files of your report. She should be back momentarily. I'd like to ask a question before then even though I understand your knowledge is severely limited. Is there anything you can tell me of your relationship to him?"

"To Kenth? Well, actually, I don't think he's my son. Not by blood at least." Lydie admitted.

"What makes you think that?"

"I...I took a look at myself in the mirror," she explained with burning cheeks, "He's not that old. Perhaps ten or eleven months. My body doesn't bear any stress of childbirth I would likely still have. M-My...chest also doesn't feel the appropriate size it should be if the changes of pregnancy came over me. Kenth and I don't look anything alike either."

"No, I suppose you do not, and your induction from your observation is logical."

"I believe there was some previous connection between us though. Kenth has been highly attached and comfortable with me from the moment I woke up."

Miss Everson nodded yet said nothing. She studied Kenth and then her. Lydie's stomach twisted at the woman's serious expression.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Not at the moment. My apologies. I was simply thinking. Given the way your situation goes, many paths lay ahead and many choices must be made."

"You say that ominously." Lydie remarked in worry.

"I did not mean to do so. Truly, I apologize," Miss Everson smiled, "My job requires me to know every option available to what problems lie before me. I get too pulled into my head sometimes. For example, one of the things that I thought of is that Kenth is most likely adopted."

"Adopted by me?"

"Yes."

"I had considered it."

"I doubt you would know, but perhaps it has been mentioned to you in some form...are you aware of the Population Maintenance law?"

"No, not at all."

"It was put in place three hundred years ago after the war with Ashudar. In its simplest explanation, the law requires all men heading off to war to put forth an honest effort in conceiving a child with their wife before their departure if they are married. The Justiciar knows if the attempts are true or not. The population otherwise experiences a drastic decrease with the death of many men in battle and loss of new life as the wives have no husbands to help them conceive."

"Couples are forced to have children?" Lydie spoke, aghast.

"It is for the betterment of Darshal. The women are provided free medical assistance for everything related to their pregnancy, and the government provides monetary compensation until the father returns or until the child becomes an adult if the father dies. If a couple is strongly against attempting to have a child by blood, the law can also be fulfilled if a couple adopts a child. Both options are equally popular for various reasons. Of course, the care of all children is monitored to ensure they are being watched well."

"You think my husband was due to go to war, and that we adopted Kenth to fulfill the law." Lydie stated with the information presented before her.

"It makes the most sense. It fits with there being no clear blood tie yet him having a connection to you."

"It does." Lydie agreed slowly.

Her mind whirred. Thought after thought assaulted her for dominion of her mind. The concept of her having family danced inside her constantly, but the specifics of that family hadn't decided to pester her until now. If she was Kenth’s mother, what of Kenth's father? What if there was a man she loved deeply? He could be standing there in the heat of battle that very moment pushing on only at the thought of coming back to her. How would he feel in the coming days, the coming weeks when any letters she'd sent stopped coming? Would any other family left behind send him word of her disappearance? And of that family...a father, a mother, siblings, aunts and uncles...many could be fretting for her. Yet, what if no one did? It could have been no one but her, her husband, and the baby boy they'd chosen, and her husband could be dead on the warfield for all she knew. Lydie's eyes threatened wetness at the pain of loss for those unknown loved ones and from a digging loneliness from the fear there were none of those at all. The tears remained at bay by the hope her questions would soon be answered.

Her muscles tensed in a freezing chill when a fist rapped on the door.