The travel eastward passes as it should.

You and Detlev lead the procession on horseback, with your Skeletal Squire riding behind on his equally skeletal pony with your banner raised high and proud. Behind you, Holly drives the carriage that once belonged to the Headman of Emberheart, with Lupa and Scion Juniper remaining inside for their own protection. Behind them, the remaining revenants march in three rows, tabards hanging over their maille to give some semblance of uniformity to the men who only ever fought as a militia.

The homesteads you pass prove friendly enough. Some are more genuine than others, but you don't care about rebellious thoughts at this stage in reconquering these lands, only rebellious actions. A few send their daughters to throw flower petals in the wake to greet your procession, as if you were liberating heroes. Others are more measured and cautious, clearly seeing the way the wind blows now that you've moved past the bastion of resistance in Emberheart.

One family has a particularly courageous boy - who could be no older than eight or nine - throw a stone at you, which clatters uselessly off of your helm. His parents look utterly horrified at what their son has done. Of course, the boy isn't finished with just a stone.

"Go back to the pit, you big mean demon lover!" Every word that comes out of the boy's mouth deepens the horror on his parents' expression, and his older sister is quick to try and pull him back. The little fellow is quite scrappy though, managing to wriggle free from his sister's hands. "These lands belong to the Lord of Light!"

"Heinrich, that's enough!" his father shouts. The man, getting on into his early forties, looks at you with pleading eyes as you dismount and approach. "My lady, please forgive my son's foolishness. He is but a boy, he does not understand the gravity of what he says..."

You march over to the boy and his sister, ignoring their father's pleas.

The girl has the sort of fear in her eyes that would have been absolutely delicious to see on a woman grown. Tears well up in her eyes, and in the end she cannot bear to look at you in what she assumes must be her final moments. She clutches her younger brother in a tight embrace. The boy, on the other hand, has a good look in his eyes. He glares at you unblinkingly until the very end.

You reach down at them both with a gauntleted hand, and-

"H-Hey!" the boy's voice is suddenly absent all of the hatred and vitriol it held not a moment ago. His complaints sound far more appropriate for a boy his age than he had a moment ago. The girl's sobs stop for a moment, as she freezes up at what you've done. "My head is not for petting! Big sis, let me goooooooo! The evil knight lady is bullying me!"

"This is your penance, boy," you put on the most steely voice you can, but you cannot help but let a chuckle seep into your words as you ruffle his hair. "Foolishness can be forgiven, but forgiveness comes with penance, you understand?"