The Knight from Nothing

Hedge Knight, Book One

J. Y. Song

Copyright © 2025 by J. Y. Song

E-book and book published in 2025 by Critical Scribe Entertainment, LLC

Cover Design by Kart Studio

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the user of brief quotations in a book review.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

For my Mother, who has empowered me in ways she cannot begin to imagine

For my Father, who was never shy in his critiques and encouragement

For my Brother, who has always had faith in me

For my Sister, who never let me give up

To everyone who has supported me thus far, thank you.

From the bottom of my heart.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter One

There are many signs that could lift a man’s spirits in the morning. The sun peeking just over the horizon to welcome him to dawn’s embrace, evergreens in dresses of snow to herald the first touch of winter’s kiss, birdsong drifting in from the windows, or even the warmth of a lover’s skin against his. For Helbram, even the sight of a roof over his head would have been a small, yet reassuring comfort.

The knife at his throat? Not so much.

“Don’t move,” rasped a deep voice, one that carried scents foul enough to wrinkle Helbram’s nose behind his helmet.

His eyes opened, taking a moment to focus before he caught sight of the would-be assailant standing over him; a man that was a mess of lanky and stocky features fitted with the rags of clothes both too big and too small for his confounding frame. It was a feast for the eyes so contradictory that he had to stop himself from shaking his head, lest he cut himself on the blade resting on his neck.

Repulsed as he was, Helbram had to admit that the bandit had the obvious advantage. He sighed and raised his hands in surrender.

“You certainly have caught me unawares,” he said, his resignation ringing with a pronounced hollowness through his helmet’s visor. He motioned to his seated position and tapped the back of his head against the bark behind him. “But you cannot hope to shake me down properly while I am resting against this tree, can you?”

His assailant paused, wringing his hand around the weapon at Helbram’s throat. After a moment passed, he had to restrain himself from recoiling as the bandit flashed a set of decayed teeth in a twisted grin.

“You’re right, better for you to take that armor off for me anyhow. Up you go, slowly.”

Helbram obeyed, his hands still raised as the bandit kept the blade pressed against his throat. Destitute exterior aside, there was a practiced precision to the thief’s movements, a notion that was further enforced when he circled around Helbram and slipped the knife into a small gap in his armor. From where the blade rested, it would only take one small slip and Helbram would find himself with a dagger driven into his armpit.

A not so glorious, but quick, way to die.

To further the unease that was starting to build, the bandit kept his free hand wrapped around Helbram’s shoulder, pressing himself too close for comfort.

“A shame you weren’t a woman,” he said, a dark hunger rattling through his voice.

Helbram shivered. “You already made yourself known as a sour sort, but did you have to go and turn it to poison?”

“Shut it,” his assailant spat, “You’re in no position to judge me.”

Helbram looked between his raised hands. “I do believe I am in the perfect position to do so.” He sighed. “But I am just delaying the inevitable, are I not? Take stock of your spoils, by all means.”

There was a moment where Helbram could feel the pressure behind the knife start to relax, but the bandit paused.

“What’re you up to?”

“Now what could you possibly mean?” Helbram asked. “I am just a man who has realized that he has lost and would like to walk away with his life.” He snorted. “Or are you perhaps thinking I am the one that has you cornered with some grand plan you are blind to?”

“Or maybe you’re just the mouthy sort who talks too much until they get gutted.”

Helbram shrugged, feeling the chill of the knife’s steel press harder into his armpit as he did so. “That is also possible, but I can assure you taking armor off of a dead body is quite the troublesome affair. Not to mention all the blood that would be involved.” He shuddered. “Nasty business, that.”

The bandit grunted and shoved him forward. “Enough games, let’s take a look at what a wordy sort like you has on ‘im, eh?”

Helbram sighed and stepped towards the center of his small camp. What greeted them were small embers emitting the last vestiges of the previous night’s warmth as thin, smoky wisps that crawled towards the sky. A gentle breeze drifted through the mass of trees around them, curling the smoke before brushing its existence away entirely. Near the campfire lay Helbram’s rucksack, its numerous patches with hasty stitching indicating that its best days were behind it, but it still found the company of the sword and shield that leaned at its side. A companionship that was torn asunder as the bandit kicked the blade away, triggering a frown from behind Helbram’s visor.

“Is that not a bit much?” He asked, but he raised no further objections when he motioned towards his worn pack in an unceremonious fashion. “Behold, your loot.”

The bandit kicked that over as well, knocking loose the paltry amount of rations and one spare change of clothes that lay within.

He spat on the ground. “That’s it?!”

“I am afraid so, it appears fortune has not been kind to both of us as of late.”

“I’ll say.” The thief nudged the rolled bundle tied to the pack with his foot. “Your bed roll isn’t even undone. Was our knight so tired he decided the shrubbery made for a better mattress?” He snickered. “Or maybe his loins have a taste for leaves instead?”

“Oh, you are a clever one.”

“Aye, and if you know what’s good for you you’d soon get yourself a sense of humor,” he shoved Helbram forward again, hedge knight.”

Time seemed to slow when Helbram reached inward, drowning out the forest ambience around him as he let himself get lost within a single beat of his heart. His senses dug deep, focusing on the small traces of Ether, the energy of his will manifest, within his body. As the tide of his heartbeat continued, he swept any crumb of power that he could find and directed them all towards the center of his palm, which he then turned towards the bandit’s face.

A flash of pale white light surged from his hand, forcing a yelp from the bandit as he staggered away and freed Helbram from his knife. The former hostage spun around and drove his fist into the bandit’s jaw. The blow struck with a sharp crack and whipped his head to the side before he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Before the possibility of recovery was even a thought, Helbram kicked the knife out of the thief’s hand and delivered another punch to his face.

The bandit went still.

Helbram dusted his hands off and let his lips flutter with another sigh. “...Though that title was not far off the mark…”

***

He had a fleeting hope that his trip back to Silverglen would be one of a peaceful, maybe even blissful, silence. His prisoner aimed to provide the exact opposite.

“Good sir, please let me go. I’m a changed man, I swear it.” Tears pooled in the bandit’s eyes.

“Truly? That would indeed be quite the speedy shift,” Helbram said through a yawn.

“Yes sir it was.” The thief threw his head back as if he was swooning. “The justice felt from your fist has struck me with a newfound perspective.”

Helbram stopped and eyed his prisoner through his visor. “Appearing weak and harmless is a sound strategy for sympathy, but may I suggest a dash of dignity? It goes quite a ways, I assure you.” He yanked the rope tied to the bandit’s wrists and urged him forward.

“Bloody… at least unbind my godsdamned feet, will ya?”

“There is the… now that I recall, I do not know your name.”

“It’s-”

“George seems like a good one.”

“That’s not my-”

“Hush now, George, we have places to be,” Helbram yanked on the bindings again.

“Do you expect me to hop my way back to town? My legs burn and I’m starting to feel a twinge in my groin.”

Helbram clicked his teeth. “Now that is truly unfortunate. Perhaps it was something you should have considered before robbing people on the road?”

“You, I’ll have you-”

“George’s” ramblings faded into the background while Helbram nursed the side of his neck.

“Mellisandara’s tits that smarts something fierce,” he muttered to himself.

It was a pain that he expected, the consequence of sleeping through the night leaned against a tree - in his armor no less. It was something that no sensible person would have done, but Helbram knew that there was no better bait for bandits than an easy score. 

“Let us not actually fall asleep next time…” he said under his breath.

“What in the Five Hells is an Awoken doing out here anyways?!” George spat, “Bloody flashing lights and other nonsense, it's not fair I tell you.”

Helbram snorted. “Awoken?’ He pulled on the rope harder. “Children are capable of such tricks with enough training. You will not be seeing me leaping buildings and tossing blades of light in your direction, that is for certain.”

The bandit continued to grumble as he hopped forward, a string of curses not so subtly muttered beneath his breath.

As Helbram continued down the road, he took a moment to appreciate the sights around him. Silverglen Forest was much like any other forest, but magnified to a greater degree. Its greens were of a deeper, darker shade, appearing almost black as its canopy swallowed the sun’s rays within, and both its trees and underbrush were thick enough to smother the larger world around them in a veil of branches and leaves. It gave the main road a distinctively narrow feeling as they continued to march along its path. 

The forest depths bustled with the sounds of the fauna hidden within the flora, but none made themselves visible to Helbram while he scanned his surroundings. He let his gaze drift back to the road, which was nothing more than a wide path of dirt packed by the countless steps taken upon it. It twisted and curved into the distance, leading Helbram to think that it may have been an animal trail prior to Humanity’s influence.

His musings were brushed away as a breeze swept through the road, chasing away the lingering dregs of summer’s heat. The relief drew a grateful sigh from his lips, and he could feel the beginnings of autumn truly start to take its roots beyond the pale yellows that faded into the leaves around him. Despite that, however, there was an uncomfortable stuffiness to the air, one that he could feel sticking to his skin. It was almost enough to make him remove his helmet, but he thought otherwise as the ramblings of George grew louder with each passing second. The chance that it was drawing the attention of some other bandit or - in a much more unfortunate scenario - a wandering predator, seemed to be more likely by the moment.

Any further thoughts were interrupted by a sudden tug on his rope. Helbram turned around and found the bandit laying on the ground, motionless.

He rolled his eyes. “Abandoned decency, have we?”

“Decency? What kind of decency can a man have when he’s been roped up like an animal?” The bandit wiggled on the ground to emphasize his point.

Helbram paused to turn his neck and ponder off into the distance. He took in a deep breath and braced himself.

“See? I have a point d-”

He threw his head to the side, producing a series of loud pops that signaled a flood of relief to wash over his neck. A satisfied hiss was forced from Helbram’s teeth, one that grew into a relaxed groan.

“Much better.” He rolled his shoulders and turned his head from side to side to ensure no other pains remained. Content, he pulled on the rope again.

“Come now, we must not dawdle.”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m some child! Even I have some pride!”

“Do you now? It matters not to me,” he rotated his arm. “It has been quite some time since I have gotten some decent exercise.” He pulled on the rope, expending little effort to drag George for a few feet. “I suppose I could just drag you back to town to compensate.”

The bandit grumbled and struggled to get himself back on his feet. “Bloody bastard, about to wear a hole in my clothes…”

George failed in getting himself upright, kicking up a cloud of dust when he struck the ground. What followed were a series of curses that cracked Helbram’s lips into a smile. As the thief struggled with his bindings, a familiar bellow sounded in from the distance.

Helbram turned towards the noise, spotting a wagon drawn by a large four-legged beast of burden. Its thick fur coat and bovine like appearance placed the creature as an auroc, and the small horns that protruded from the sides of its head, barely poking through its furry pelt, marked it as a female. Her hooves packed the dirt beneath her further as she trudged forward, making a steady pace towards Helbram. 

Behind her, seated comfortably on the wagon, was a portly dwarf who appeared to be more preoccupied with an itch in his thick, short cut beard than whoever was on the road. The vehicle that he drove had no wheels to carry its weight, and as opposed to the usual wooden construction of a traditional wagon, it was instead built into the shape of a flat metal platform. At the bottom of the wagon sat a metallic apparatus, a device that could be best described as an amalgamation of pipes and chunks of steel wrapped around themselves in the facade of order.

Set at the contraption’s center was a crystal that pulsed with a green light. The energy traveled through a series of grooves spread throughout the rest of the wagon. Its color indicated that wind-aspected Aether flowed through the vehicle, allowing it to levitate off the ground as the auroc pulled it forward. Helbram had seen far more complicated devices in other parts of the world, but such an odd amalgamation of rudimentary function and Esperian innovation was starting to become a common sight in the Freemarks as of late.

“Thank the Gods,” George said by the time he finally got to his feet, “Transport.”

Helbram eyed the bandit with annoyance, one that had been tarnished by a dash of pity. He ignored the feeling and directed his attention towards the driver of the wagon.

“Ho there Joldir,” he called out, holding up his free hand.

The driver turned to him and titled up his wide brimmed hat. His eyes flared at the sight of him.

“Ser ‘elbram? And here I’d thought you set off for finer pastures.”

“Not quite,” Helbram said, “there was some unfinished business that I was asked to take care of before I relieved you all of my presence.”

He pulled on George’s bindings.

Joldir smirked at the sight of the restrained bandit. “So this is the bastard who’s been robbin’ our good folk of their livelihood? Brin’ ‘im closer, will you?”

Helbram obliged with a quick yank of the rope. George stumbled forward and glared at Helbram while he did his best to stop from falling again.

He did not see the slap coming.

And when such a blow comes from the large, muscled hand of a dwarf, it creates such a sound that even Helbram had to flinch as the bandit staggered to the ground.

George fought to get back to his feet. “OW! You bloody- I’ll have your head old man!”

Before he could fully recover, Helbram pulled on the rope again, sending him crashing back onto the dirt.

“That is enough of that,” he admonished George as he tightened his bindings. When the bandit was secure, he turned to Joldir. “Would you be willing to provide transport back to Silverglen? Pleasant as my present company is, I would be done with this business sooner rather than later.”

Joldir flashed him a bright toothed grin. “Certainly ser, ‘tis the least I could do to lend our knight my aid.”

“Wonderful, but please, I am no knight. Just Helbram is fine.” His smile was hidden, but it was clear in his voice.

Joldir chuckled. “Understood ‘elbram, toss the bastard in the back. You can ride up front.”

Helbram nodded and knelt down, ignoring George’s protests while he lifted and tossed him into the back of the wagon in one motion. The moment his body thudded against the wagon’s bed, the bandit let loose another tangent of curses. Helbram rolled his eyes and secured the bandit’s bindings to one of the wagon’s posts before hopping into the seat next to Joldir.

“Onwards, good man.”

Chapter Two

“So, this is our bandit?”

Helbram nudged George forward, forcing the thief to stumble into the guard captain’s desk. He ignored the man’s glare and scratched his chin, frowning at the stubble that was in danger of becoming a beard. A shave was desperately needed.

“Eyes forward, thief,” the captain commanded. He possessed a voice that projected a rough authority, one that was commonplace amongst the Orcs. It was potent enough that George snapped his head forward out of instinct and righted his posture.

Helbram caught sight of his reflection in the window as the captain looked over the thief, and could not help but compare himself to the man in appearance. Where the grizzled orc had an almost leathery texture to his green skin, Helbram’s was of a fairer complexion, one that had somehow taken on a sun kissed shade despite the amount of time he spent in his armor. 

The captain’s gray eyes, seemingly frozen into a furrowed, disappointed expression, carried with them a certain gravitas that Helbram’s blue eyes could not match with their own ambivalent air. In addition to that, Helbram’s face carried a more relaxed expression, one that always seemed to be one light comment away from smiling. Given that his own features were fairly angular compared to the captain’s more burly traits, it was an expression that he felt more suited to carry. 

He did hold some jealousy for the captain’s short cut hair, as his own brown locks were now at the length that they started to poke into his ears. A haircut would need to accompany the shave, it seemed.

The captain eyed the bandit with an impassive stare, one that carried an intimidation that went beyond the tusks protruding from his bottom lip and wide build. George opened his mouth as if to speak, but it quickly closed under the weight of the captain’s muted, but steely air.

It was enough to give Helbram a twinge of envy as he observed the silent exchange, but he knew that such presence was something that could only be possessed by one with experience in authority. That, for the time being, was far outside of his wheelhouse, though not from a lack of trying.

At the very least, it would have kept the trip back to town a quieter affair.

“Did you recover what he stole?” the captain asked, his eyes still fixed on George.

Helbram shook his head. “I am afraid not. Given the distance from town, bringing him in was my first priority.” He snatched a ragged cloth bag from his waist. “He did keep his coin purse on him, however.”

He tossed the bag onto the captain’s desk, causing George to flinch as it landed with a heavy thud.

“Judging by the weight it does not appear that he spent much of what he stole.” He snorted. “Perhaps he was saving up for something nice.” He smirked at George. “A fancy suit, maybe?”

The provocation cut deep enough that it earned Helbram another vicious look.

He ignored the daggers glared his way and continued to address the captain. “I trust you will get the money back to the victims?

The captain nodded. “Yes, thank you again for the help.”

“‘Twas my pleasure,” Helbram said. “Regarding the pay…”

The captain raised his eyebrows, but produced a smaller cloth bag from the drawer of his desk. He tossed it at Helbram, who felt a satisfying weight settle in his hand as he caught it. He opened the bag, spotting a mix of silver, copper, and sparse amounts of gold coins within.

“Two hundred Marks, as agreed,” the captain said.

Helbram counted the coins in a rough estimate and nodded. “Everything does appear to be in order. I do not suppose that you have any other tasks that require my attention?”

The captain opened the notebook that sat at the center of his desk and flipped through its pages. When he finished checking through them, he shook his head. “Not at this time.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Though there would be quite the heavy purse involved were you to find employment with my men.”

Helbram chuckled. “I am afraid guard duty is not suited for one such as myself. It is for the better, really. Wanderers like me should be associated with in small doses.”

The captain grunted. “Well, if you do ever find yourself back in Silverglen be sure to stop by. This town could always do with the help.” He motioned to George and frowned. “Loathe as I am to admit it, my men are stretched thin enough as it is and most are too green to handle affairs such as this.”

Helbram eyed the bandit with a cursory look. “If they all happen to be of this caliber I am sure your men will do just fine.” He placed a closed fist over his heart - a simple salute of no particular affiliation. “But, should my travels ever guide me back here I shall be sure to pay you a visit.”

The captain returned his gesture. “Godspeed Helbram, may the Matron bless you with safe travels.”

“And may she bless you with the wherewithal to protect this town in its time of growth,” He looked at the bandit. “And for you, my dear George, may she grant you an enlightening stay behind bars.”

“That’s not my name you bloody ba-”

He was already out the door before George could finish.

***

The steady clang of hammers battering steel into shape filled Helbram’s ears. Their cadence filled the otherwise silent atmosphere while he waited for the blacksmith to retrieve his armor. Much like the wagon he rode into town on, the smithy was a mix of modern and rudimentary technology. Power hammers were absent, but he could see a few enclosed forges towards the back; constructs of stone and metal with the same grooves common to all Esperian magitech spread throughout their make. The apparatuses that were attached to their sides had red crystals set inside of them, suffusing the crevices of the device with a similar colored glow that kept the forges at a constant, even temperature. Multiple ingots were placed within their depths, taking on an increasingly brighter glow as they absorbed the heat from the device.

What they were to be forged into, he would not see, for his attention was stolen by the blacksmith placing his armor in front of him.

“How bad was it?” Helbram asked.

The smith - a stout man with graying locks and matching beard- scratched his head. “There was nothin’ wrong with the metal itself, but everything else…” He threw multiple pieces of ragged leather onto the workbench. “How these mangled things managed to hold it all together is a bloody mystery.”

Helbram clicked his teeth. “Luck I suppose, which would be a first.” He picked up his breastplate and checked the straps, finding them replaced with fresh leather ones, ones that could be adjusted to a much tighter fit. “Fine work as always, Elvor.”

The smith puffed out his chest and straightened his leather apron. “But of course, you’ll find nothing but the finest out here.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Helbram said with a smile, “but what of my helmet?”

Elvor’s brown eyes brightened, “Now that is a piece.” He reached down and produced the headgear with a ceremonious flourish. “Such a simple design, but I bet it could be beat to the Hells and back and still keep its shape. This is purely a smith’s curiosity, but you wouldn't happen to know who forged it, would you?”

Helbram picked up the helmet and examined its newly cleaned surface. “Unfortunately, I do not. ‘Tis something that remains a mystery to myself… now you really did not have to go and polish it as well.”

“How could I not?” Elvor countered, “It’d be travesty for a smith to leave her all battered and scuffed like that.”

Helbram chuckled. “I guess so. Regardless, it is much appreciated.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I haven’t had a chance to work with such gear since moving all the way out here from the Kingdoms,” He rubbed his chin. “Still, it is quite rare to run into a piece that hasn’t been enchanted in some fashion; what with firearms becoming more popular as of late.”

“In everywhere but the Freemarks, perhaps,” Helbram clarified, “but in places such as this where ammunition is scarce or nonexistent, a good piece of metal goes quite a ways.” He strapped his armor together in a bundle before slinging it over his shoulder. “How much do I owe you?”

Elvor tilted his head from side to side. “Seventy-five Marks.”

Helbram frowned. “Now we both know that is not true.”

“After the help you’ve been around town?” Elvor said. “It’s as true as I am willing to let it be.”

Helbram sighed, but followed with a defeated smile. “Fair enough.” He fished the money from his coin purse and dropped eighty Marks into the smith’s hands. “Though you would be kind enough to accept this gratuity from me, would you not? Reward yourself with a drink, you have more than earned it.”

Elvor grinned. “Now that I can do. Treat yourself as well Helbram, should you ever find yourself back here, know that you’re always welcome through my doors.”

He waved as he turned around. “Thank you, Elvor, I shall be sure to keep that in mind. Fortune to you and yours.”

As he left the smith, he strapped the bundle of armor to a loose spot in his bag and continued into town. Before he entered Silverglen’s square, the smell of freshly baked bread drew his attention. Taking Elvor’s words to heart, he rewarded himself with a simple sandwich that was mostly cheese and cured meats. Upon the first bite, any doubts that he may have had of his hasty purchase were washed away as his taste was overcome by the richness of melted cheese, cut through by the salted pork beneath. Savoring the meal, he proceeded into town.

If one were to evaluate it structurally, Silverglen was much like any town nestled within the vastness of the Freemarks. It was small, with buildings clustered around the semblance of a town square. Only a few of the town’s buildings possessed more than one story, namely the tavern that was at the furthest part of the square from him - a blocky building labeled as The Horse’s Gallop. Were the town founded in one of the rare open areas of the region, there would have been signs of farmland towards the town’s borders, and if it were located in a locale even denser in trees, a logging station would be part of the village’s layout.

Silverglen, however, held the benefit of its centralized position as a trading hub. Numerous stalls filled the square, each with vendors that hawked their wares to a crowd that continued to grow with the influx of midday activity. So much activity that, by the time that Helbram had arrived, it was filled near to the brim with people, save for the construction site nestled around a half built fountain at the center of the square. Silverglen was in the fortunate position of expansion, but it was clear that the small town had many growing pains ahead of it.

When he had traveled into town with Joldir, he saw the beginnings of numerous houses; skeletons of rocky foundations and wooden beams that, at first glance, indicated a simplistic design. However, the trademark grooves of Esperian magitech, pathways for Aether, power drawn from the environment itself, lined all these new buildings. Upon the sight of such construction, Helbram knew that it was only a matter of time before the conveniences of the modern day would make themselves known to even the far-off reaches of the region.

It was these thoughts that swam through his head as he walked towards the fountain. A few shoulders bumped against his as he made his way, prompting absentminded apologies to any glances that were thrown at him as a result. Though he had not quite inherited the entirety of his father’s build, he possessed enough size that he would naturally shoulder people out of the way in crowded spaces. He adjusted the position of his ruck behind him and pressed forward, making a conscious effort to not bulldoze his way through the crowd.

As he approached the fountain, he saw numerous workers heckling any who tried crossing over into their space. Curses and jeers aplenty spewed out at an unrelenting rate that forced the trespassers to leave. When he approached, he gave the workers a wave, a gesture that was returned with the shift of scowls to grins as he crossed over into the site.

“Helbram!” One of the workers shouted. “I’ve heard you’re to leave us.”

“I was on my way out, actually,” he held up his half-eaten sandwich, “but I figured I should enjoy my lunch in finer company before then.”

“Then you chose the wrong set of bastards!”

The crew shared a chuckle before setting about their business.

He let down his ruck and took a seat at the base of the fountain, spotting a statue at the center of the structure. Most of it was covered by a tarp, and from the bit that was not fully concealed he spotted a set of scales carved from stone. Only one of them was in clear view, the one that held a set of dice in its dish.

“Renegast, eh?” He took a bite of his sandwich.

“Aye, it was either him or Aekinder,” the worker said, “The Maker’s done right by us craftsman but we know where the wind’s blowing.” He tapped a fist to his forehead. “May the God of Commerce and Fortune grant us a sliver of his boundless coffers…” There was a slur to the man’s speech as he trailed off.

Helbram snorted. “And perhaps sober hands in the construction of his fountain.”

“Nonsense.” The worker waved his fingers in front of his face. “If I see double the hands, that means I’m doing double the work.”

Helbram raised an eyebrow. “Just be sure you are not climbing anything with those four hands of yours, at the very least.”

The worker scoffed and waved him off before walking back to his station, leaving Helbram alone to finish his meal. With his belly full, he leaned back, catching sight of the covered statue once again. In the presence of The Faceless Merchant, he could not help but notice how light his own coin purse was. It was never empty, but at the same time it was never heavy, either. Though his armor had just been repaired, the weathered state of the rest of his equipment became all the more evident once his eyes fell to his ruck.

How much longer can this carry on?

He closed his eyes, trying to shake the thought from his head, but was unable to banish it entirely as it set in his mind, settling with all the other seeds of doubt that had taken root.

Silence broke him from his thoughts. A quiet air took over the crowded square, and Helbram could see the people turning to something in the distance. He followed their gazes and saw that there was a large wagon - one crafted from both wood and metal - that was parked right outside The Horse’s Gallop. On top of it was a man who was shorter in stature, like someone had taken the template of a human and shrunk it by half. That, combined with a slightly larger head and shorter limbs, indicated that he was a halfling. He was dressed in clothing that was far finer than the simple ones that Helbram, and any of the townsfolk, wore. The man’s hair was cut short and combed over, keeping a sheen that indicated that some sort of product was used to keep its shape. Though he stood a fair distance away, Helbram could see the man’s narrowed eyes and stiff expression. The look of someone who found what he saw beneath him.

“Hear me, all, for I come to you seeking aid,” the man said, his voice carrying a volume too loud and tone too relaxed to be natural.

As Helbram walked towards the edge of the crowd, he could see that the man was clutching something in his hand. Given the etherealness of his voice, Helbram guessed it was a magical Catalyst of some sort and that the man was most likely a spellcaster. Magnifying one’s voice was hardly a complex spell, but the finery of the clothes hanging off of the man’s gaunt frame indicated that he was practiced enough to place himself in a comfortable position with his talents.

“I am Marlin, and I speak at the behest of my master, the renowned Tristan Bereton, owner of the Goldshire Mines,” he continued with a bow. “It is with much distress that I arrive here, for the mine has been occupied by a band of vicious bandits.”

Chatter erupted through the crowd.

“How in the Hells did that happen?” A man from the crowd asked. “Goldshire’s bigger than we are! How’d they let some band of thieves come in and stink up the place?”

The chatter quieted down to muttering, but it was clear that a tide of discontent was starting to sweep over the townsfolk. One that was silenced as Marlin’s voice boomed through the square.

“Were it some common rabble I would understand your confusion, dear sir.” Helbram could feel an edge to the man’s voice. “But this is no mere band of rudimentary thieves. They are well armed, organized, and numerous. We were caught unawares, and the assault was brutal, quick, and decisive. Rather than die in the chaos we elected to retreat, so that we may be better able to mount a counter offensive.” He swept his hand over the crowd. “And that, my good people, is why I come to you for succor.”

Helbram frowned at the spellcaster’s tone. It was hardly pleading and instead calculative. No doubt Marlin thought more value lay within the mines than the town itself. Despite that, Helbram found himself reaching for his bag.

He pushed into the crowd, now seeing that a group of men and women had gathered around the wagon. It was a rather large number, all adorned in fresh, riveted armor crafted from pieces of leather and metal. Most were armed with spears, but some had swords strapped to their waists or bows looped around their shoulders. As he got closer, he realized that most of them were young, with chests puffed out in pride as the crowd started to slowly notice their presence.

Behind this younger group was a smaller contingent of decidedly older soldiers. They were outfitted in gear that was not so uniform as their younger peers and were of a more robust, weathered stock. Speaking to this group was a grizzled man with grays peppering his brown hair and beard, most notably equipped with a chest piece marked by its red cloth. From the metallic studs that were interlaced through the armor, Helbram assumed it to be a brigandine.

“My master requests the aid of any able-bodied man or woman willing to take up arms,” the spellcaster explained, “For he intends to take back the mines within the next few days.” He rubbed his fingers together. “You will, of course, be handsomely rewarded for your contribution.”

Discourse once again surged through the crowd at the mention of payment, but the words glanced off of Helbram’s thoughts as his feet carried him forward; driven by a flame that, despite everything, still continued to burn. Reason pressed against it, telling him that whatever he was hoping was fleeting.

“Didya hear that? I could do with some more Marks in my pocket,” one of the townsfolk said, a younger man that was barely out of adolescence.

“More Marks? You’d be lucky to come back alive from something like that,” countered a deeper voice, “Don’t be a fool, boy.”

The part of Helbram that wished to stop agreed with the man’s sentiment. He knew that he was only walking into danger. One that, even if he did survive, would most likely grant him no glory or benefit besides a few coins in his purse. Yet still, the flame spurred him on. Maybe this time things would be different.

Maybe this time things would change.

Marlin cast his eyes over the crowd, disappointment clear on his face. “Truly? None of you wish to offer aid in such a dire situation? Need I remind you that Aether Crystals, the very ones that this town will soon become reliant upon, are at stake?”

Still no one stepped forward. Helbram could not blame them, either. Though Silverglen was growing, its military power already had its hands full keeping the region around it in check. And though adventurers traveled through the Freemarks, it was not as if there were many heavily armed travelers around, willing to offer their services… all except one. One whose doubt made one final push against the flame in his chest, only for it to burn away.

Fine… one last time.

“Ho there! I’ll join you.

Chapter Three

Helbram watched through his helmet’s visor as Silverglen disappeared past the horizon, swallowed by the mass of trees that bordered the forest trail. It was not the solitary journey that he had expected to take this day, but the company of others was always welcome when it came to traveling - especially when one was bound for combat. 

The wagon that Marlin made his announcement from was only a small part of a much larger caravan, one composed of both the wheeled and wooden sort and more modern platforms of magitech, much like the one he had ridden on with Joldir earlier that day - and his choice of transport now. He didn’t get a complete count of how many vehicles there were, but from his position he could see that the convoy went on for quite a distance ahead of him. Most of the men and women that formed this impromptu fighting force took position towards the front of the caravan and formed a crowd at its head. Meanwhile, he elected to take a spot on the wagon that trailed behind at the very back.

It was the only sensible thing to do, seeing as it was one of the few that possessed the benefit of a metal cover over his head. As his legs hung out from the back of the vehicle, he turned and looked into its bed, noting the various barrels and crates filled with provisions. He spotted multiple spears amongst them, along with a plethora of bundled arrows. More than that, however, was the figure that rested between the containers.

Their face was obscured by their cloak, but he could tell from the occasional groan or click of their teeth that they were dealing with something severe enough that they wanted to be left alone, which Helbram obliged. The driver of the wagon was no conversationalist either, ushering the auroc that pulled the vehicle forward with the odd grunt or snap of the reins. Helbram did note that the man possessed an amount of muscle to his wide frame that was unusual to a driver, or even a merchant. It was possible that he was a farmer due his plain clothes, but given the fact that this caravan was on its way to battle, such simple attire struck Helbram as odd.

He shook his head, deciding it best to not overthink things for the time being. Instead, he pulled his feet into the wagon and turned to rest the back of his head against its cover. The soft hum of the magitech engine beneath the vehicle drifted into his ears, and he felt himself slip away into the far recesses of his mind. For a brief moment, he felt at peace.

“Hello there, what’re you doing alone?”

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of a grin stretched across a wide, round face bordered by blonde hair. The pint-sized woman who was in possession of such a mischievous and curious smile also held purple eyes that were too large and pointed ears that were too big to belong to a halfling. As her features settled in his vision, Helbram recognized the small woman as a gnome, one who was garbed in robes with a belt to contour them to her figure. Attached to the belt was a pouch the size of his fist and a notebook secured by a clasp. The robes themselves were violet, deep enough to be mistaken for black. It made her soft, pale skin stand out all the more in contrast, and this only made her smile shine brighter. When Helbram showed little reaction to her sudden appearance, it faltered into a frown, which brought a smile of his own to his lips.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He tilted his head towards the line of vehicles in front of them. “I imagine that most of the excitement was towards the front of this little troupe of ours.”

She scoffed. “And what? Be subjected to another boisterous story by one of the showboats up front?” She plopped down and hung her feet off the wagon. “If we truly have so many Drakeslayers and Giant hunters I would have to wonder how they settled on hunting down a group of bandits.”

“A shame,” Helbram said, “here I was about to regale you with the tale of how I danced with the Sea Dragon, slaying him whilst riding the crest of a wave on the battered remains of my own personal ship.”

The woman sputtered and covered her mouth. “Truly? And what wondrous weapon did you use to perform such a deed?”

He shifted his position and held a hand up, mimicking the motion of a spear toss. “A harpoon forged from Core Steel, tempered by the Heart Fire of Renoon.”

“I see, and the Dwarves of Rodun allowed you near the sacred relic of their capital?”

“Indeed, it appears a rather salacious encounter with a dwarven princess opens the gates to many possibilities… and positions. But, as I was saying… there I was, crested atop the tide, the storms of the Dragon’s fury casting lightning that split the seas, followed by thunder that tore at the skies themselves. Amidst the chaos of nature, my aim was true, and the beast fell into the sea, never to be seen again.”

The woman clapped. “Marvelous, we are truly blessed to be in the presence of such a legendary warrior.”

Helbram bowed. “I shall do my best to live up to the magnanimous status that my reputation has no doubt established. Which goes to say that the moment trouble starts I shall dive behind you for cover.”

She giggled. “Now that, I find hard to believe.”

He clicked his teeth. “And I was doing so well too.”

“Quite, it was very convincing,” the woman said with a smirk, “but, I do sense there is something different about you.”

“Is that so?” Helbram asked, “And what would that be, pray tell?”

“Well, you are far more entertaining, for starters,” she said, “but I also feel that there is more substance to you. You hear the ambitions and tales of one young adventurer and you’ve heard them all. Glory, riches, women, men, and other such nonsense.” She made a flippant gesture and rolled her eyes. “But this…” she knocked on his breastplate, “has history,” her eyes sparkled as she beamed up at him. “Care to share?”

“Of that, I am afraid there is not much to tell. A boy dreams of adventure, and as a man he goes to find it.”

“But you see, it’s the details that matter.” She threw her arms out. “What was it that called out to that boy? What is it that keeps the man seeking? Were you with the fresh-faced crowd up front, mail free of rust and finely polished, then my interest would not have been so piqued. Yet, here you are, solitary with an air of introspection, armor weathered by tales yet untold, and secrets veiled by a helmet that hides your eyes from the world.” The woman crossed her hands. “Could you blame me for being drawn to such promise?”

Helbram laughed. “Promise? You would be the first in a long time to suggest such a thing about me.” He met the woman’s gaze. “Would our interested party have a name?”

Her smile widened and she stood up, the fullness of her height only reaching his head even as he remained seated. She adjusted her robes and patted them flat, bouncing her short ponytail with an energy that far outstripped Helbram’s own. A hint of pride glinted across her face and she bowed.

“Jahora Starweaver.” With a flourish of her hand a small tongue of flame sparked to life in her palm. “Mage.”

His eyebrows rose at the revelation. “A spellcaster? And here I had thought only the leader of this caravan had any practice in the craft.”

Jahora’s expression soured at the mention of Marlin. “Well, most of us don’t tend to be so… garish in their attire.”

“Fair point.” He held his hand out. “Helbram, a pleasure.”

She took his hand and shook it.

“But I should let you know that we are hardly alone.” He tilted his head towards the figure hidden amongst the crates. “Our silent friend has been privy to our conversation this entire time.”

Confusion flashed across the Mage’s face, shifting to surprise as she turned her gaze into the vehicle. To her credit, she regained composure immediately and waved.

“Hello there, forgive my rudeness for not seeing you earlier.”

Helbram shrugged. “I do not think they mind. They have not said a word since the start of this journey of ours.” He leaned into the wagon. “Does our mysterious companion care to grace us with their name?”

The figure shifted in the vehicle’s shadows, revealing the barest amount of olive skin beneath their hood.

“Leaf,” they said, carrying a deep enough tone that Helbram placed them to be a man.

Jahora tilted her head. “Leaf? That is quite a name. I’m sure there is a story behind that.” She leaned in with clear interest.

Leaf snorted. “My father’s shite with names, there’s your story,” He rubbed his brow and groaned. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve a headache to sleep off. All Father’s balls I’ll never drink again…”

Helbram winced. “We had best leave the man alone then. But, since we are in the mood of exchanging stories, what of yourself? You do not find many Mages this deep into the Freemarks, and you are no native to these parts.”

Jahora sat down again with a meek look in her eyes. “Am I that obvious?”

He nodded. “Very much so.”

The Mage laughed. “I suppose that’s fair, but I too don’t have much to say about myself, I’m afraid,” she said in a coy tone, “but if neither of you are willing to reveal anything, then I suppose it's up to me to break the ice.”

She swept her hands over her robes, summoning specks of light across the dark cloth that evoked the image of the night sky before they slowly blinked away, leaving her clothes as plain as before.

“I hail from Helios,” she started, “My family engages in a bit of Artificery and as the oldest of three I am set to be the one to inherit the workshop. Before that happens, I thought it wise to get out and explore the world for a bit, see what else was out there - inspiration for new projects, of course.”

“And so you found yourself in the Freemarks,” Helbram said, “A place where magitech and magical items are scarce and the ones that are used would be considered mundane or obsolete by the rest of the world.”

“There are artifacts,” Jahora countered, “Ruhian and Saputan ruins dot the land aplenty and there is much that one such as I could learn from their ancient technology.”

“Or to use as an excuse to shirk responsibility,” Helbram said in a playful tone, “I am sure self-heating kettles and decades old engines could fill that role as well.“

A sheepish smile tugged at the Mage’s lips before she wiped the emotion from her face. “What? Don’t be silly. Reliable and responsible are practically my middle names.”

“You did not tell your family that you were leaving, did you?”

She scratched her head. “I’ve sent letters.”

Helbram chuckled. “I am in no place to judge. I am quite a bit aways from home, myself.”

“Are you now? And where does our knight hail from, pray tell?”

“Please, I am no knight.” He let out a breath and went silent for a moment. “...Caershire”

Jahora rubbed her chin. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.”

“I would be surprised if you had,” Helbram said, “the people of my home much prefer the quiet life, so much so that I would not be surprised if they took active steps to remain out of everyone’s way.” He closed his eyes. “It is truly a town of nothing, and to them, there could be no other paradise.”

“The nostalgia in your voice tells me that you miss it.”

“At times, yes.” He looked off towards the trees. “But you know how young people get when contained for far too long. They start to wonder at what lies beyond the trees that shrouded the rest of the world, begin to question what they would be capable of in such a place, in lands that they had only heard of in story and song.” He snorted. “I was brash enough to see if I could figure out the answer for myself.”

“And? Did you ever find out?”

“Yes… yes I did.”

***

The rest of the day was uneventful as they continued to travel to Goldshire. The conversation between Helbram and Jahora had lessened to occasional small talk and eventually faded before they both settled into more quiet contemplation. The odd cheer or laugh from the crowd at the front broke the silence intermittently, but as evening started to crest over the horizon many, mostly the greenhorns, retired into their wagons to rest their feet. Those more weathered remained on the road, keeping a watchful eye on the trees around them.

Helbram was more inclined to keep his gaze fixed to the darkening sky, bearing witness to the gradual reveal of the twin moons amongst the stars above. The lesser moon, Meton, shimmered with the barest red as she continued her endless chase after her sister, Eidolos. The greater moon took on a pale-yellow appearance, and with her sister just above her, Helbram could see nothing else but a faded ruby resting upon a tarnished crown.

“So, was there any truth to that story?”

Leaf emerged from the wagon and pulled back his hood, revealing a wolfish mane of hazel locks. He was of a slimmer build than Helbram, but with muscles aplenty filling out a frame covered in leathers and layered cloths that peeked from under his cloak.

“Pardon?” Helbram asked.

“The one of you and the Dragon,” Leaf said.

“Ah, ‘twas nothing but the truth, from a certain perspective.”

“And what would other ‘perspectives’ have to say then?”

“That there was a foolish man that fell off a boat trying to harpoon a tuna that swam too close to the surface.”

Leaf smirked. “Did he at least hit the damn thing?”

“Of course not,” Helbram scoffed, “but the fish was not what he was aiming for.”

“Eyes on another prize, eh?”

“The attention of the captain’s daughter. From the way that she fussed at him for the rest of the day, I would say his aim was true.”

The two men shared a chuckle as Leaf took a seat next to Helbram. He looked to the sky and clicked his teeth.

“Red moon is out tonight? That’s not good,” Leaf said with a wary tone.

“What was the saying again? Red moon at night…” Helbram started.

“Stay out of sight,” Leaf turned to him, revealing eyes that held a deeper green than the trees around them. In addition, his face held the sharp, angular features of an elf, but they had been softened to a degree by a natural roundness to his cheeks and only the slightest of points to his ears.

“A half elf? That is quite a surprise, given our distance from the Glasswood,” Helbram remarked.

Leaf shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, the Freemarks is the only place I call home.” There was a dismissive tone to his voice that told Helbram not to pry further. His fellow passenger peered at him and tapped the side of his head. “Still wearing the helmet? You’ve not taken that off since we started this journey.”

“It does me a load better on rather than off,” Helbram said, “and in times like this I would rather be on guard.”

Leaf pulled back and, after a moment, looked out the wagon towards the rest of the caravan. When he turned back he held an understanding expression. “Smart, there’s hardly enough hairs that could cover this goat’s arse of a show.”

“...what?”

Leaf sighed. “There’s not enough protection.”

“Oh I figured, but… well, the unique word choice took me aback is all.”

The half elf rolled his eyes and stood up. “Interesting wordplay aside, we’d best be alert. Tragedy likes to strike in moments like this.” He retrieved an unstrung bow from his original resting spot, one that was made of a darkened wood and around two thirds of his height.

Helbram stood up as well and stretched his arms back before scratching his neck. “Agreed. I trust that your mind has been cleared from your midday nap?”

“Aye.” Leaf leaned against his bow, bending it enough so that he could loop its string. When it was fully ready, he gave an experimental pull of the line and nodded to himself before flashing Helbram a grin. “I reckon I could take a pint or two right now.” He looked around. “Where’s the gnome?”

“Up here.” The Mage peeked in from the top of the wagon. “It’s Jahora, by the way.”

Leaf strapped his quiver to his side, opposite from where his satchel hung. “Noted. Keep an eye out on the trees, will you?”

“Perhaps if you were to ask me nicely.”

He met her eyes with a blank expression and thin lips.

The Mage frowned. “Fine, but I’ll be getting a thank you for this later, guaranteed.” She passed a hand over her eyes, producing a sheen over them that made the purple of her irises pop like a predator in the dark. Her spell cast, Jahora returned to her position at the top of the wagon.

“Stay on guard,” Helbram said, “You are an easy target up there.”

“I have a shield up,” Jahora replied, “No worries.”

Leaf nodded in approval. “Good, I was startin’ to think you were unusually… unobservant for a knight.”

“That would be because I am no knight,” Helbram said with a sigh, “and unlike our magically inclined friend above, I have no talent for seeing in the dark.”

“What can you do then?”

He tapped the side of his helmet. “When eyes fail us, ears make for a good substitute.”

Leaf raised an eyebrow but said nothing further.

Helbram closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, focusing inwards as he let himself get lost within the beat of his heart once more. As it pulsed through him, he knew that he could not settle for the crumbs of power that he grasped earlier that day with George. He dug deeper, reaching towards his center with an effort of will that, at first, sank within the mire of his soul. Before frustration could set in, however, it grazed against a small gathering of Ether that pulsed in sequence with his heartbeat. It was tiny, barely the size of a speck, with only a faint white light that gave it any sign of life, but it was his.

His Core.

Pushing his intent further, he grabbed at the spark of power, feeling it travel down the length of his thoughts as he directed it towards his ears. As that energy arrived at its destination, the sounds that were muffled by the forest’s dense foliage became clearer, crisp enough that it was as if they were occurring right next to him. It was disorienting at first, but his senses quickly adjusted to the change as that burst of clarity settled. Awareness took over, a feeling that told him that this was how he was supposed to be listening to the world all along. He could hear the forest as it was meant to be: sense the rustle of its leaves as an evening gust swept through its branches, the chirps of nighttime insects taking their positions as the sun disappeared from the sky, the calls of an owl just starting its hunt.

And the steady steps of men as they sifted through the trees.

He opened his eyes. “They are here.”

Leaf tensed and looked towards the tree line, nocking an arrow in his bow. “Which direction?”

“East,” he said upon standing up, “Hard to tell a number, Jahora, ca-”

Movement broke his words, a sudden shuffle that both he and Leaf whipped around to face. In the darkness of the wagon, Helbram could only see the glint of steel for a moment, but it was enough for him to shift his head to the side and avoid the dagger that aimed at his throat. He caught the arm behind the knife and, planting his feet, flung his assailant off of the wagon and into the road.

The attacker landed with a cough, and there was still enough light to tell that it was the wagon’s driver that had attempted to kill him. The would-be assassin raised his fingers to his lips, but before they could meet an arrow punched through his throat as Leaf loosed a shot from his bow. He fell to his knees and blood poured from his lips, gurgling out as he tried to speak past the shock that was washing over his eyes. His efforts failed and his body finally struck the ground, never to rise again.

“Warn the others!” Helbram yelled.

Light flared above them in response, taking the form of an orb of pale light that lingered in the air. A moment later, he heard Jahora’s voice pulse over the convoy in that same ethereal clarity that Marlin had done before.

“Ambush!”

Then, chaos.

Chapter Four

Yells carried up the caravan, propelled by the panicked voices of those that were about to get their first taste of combat. The more seasoned fighters began to bark orders, but their words were soon drowned by the battle cries that ripped through the trees. Arrows followed, and Helbram could only grimace as he heard voices young and old start to fall silent under their rain. Scores of bandits flooded out from the forest afterwards, continuing their bloodlust fueled cries as they raised their weapons over their heads. Most of the assault was happening towards the front of the convoy, but before Helbram could get a visual confirmation of the chaos, he could hear footsteps approaching around them.

He grabbed his shield and strapped it to his arm. “Get ready.”

As he spoke, a wave of arrows battered the side of the wagon.

“Shite!” Leaf yelled, ducking further behind the vehicle’s cover.

“Jahora!” Helbram yelled, “Are you alright?”

“My shield covered me!” She called out. 

“Get down, now!” He turned to Leaf while making sure his sword was bound to his belt. “We need to thin the ranks of their archers in the trees, can you handle that?”

The half elf nodded. “What about you?”

As he spoke, Helbram heard boots hitting the road behind them. He turned, seeing that there were five bandits approaching, weapons in hand. He reached back and grabbed a spear leaning against the supplies.

“I shall take the van.”

The archer gave him a knowing look and poked out from behind cover, loosing arrows into the trees. A few pained cries followed, and the stream of projectiles slowed enough that Helbram could leap from the back of the wagon in relative safety. As he hit the ground, he felt pressure swelling behind him. 

Sparing a glance at the top of the wagon, he saw that Jahora had her hands raised, gathering a surge of air at their center as it swirled around in blades of wind. Two rings of light orbited around her head like halos, catching the green particles of Aether that danced through the winds and directing them between her palms. The casting of the spell drew the attention of the enemy archers and soon arrows flew from the trees towards the Mage. The projectiles shattered as they collided with a wall of translucent blue energy, their impacts causing flashes of light to flare with every failed shot. Under the cover of her barrier, the Mage completed her spell, condensing the winds themselves into a ball of distorted air in her hands.

She thrust her palms out, unleashing the orb towards the forest. When the trees swallowed it, a cacophonous boom followed. The trees whipped and bent as a wave of force ripped their branches from them and scattered them to the ground, smothering the screams of the thieves caught in the blast. One especially unfortunate bandit was blasted into the road, his body limp as he skipped against the dirt. He tried to rise, but fell back against the ground once Leaf sunk another arrow into his back.

It was a display of power that gave the approaching thieves pause, but right when Helbram was about to take advantage of the opening a sound slipped into his ears. It was deeper into the trees, but he could hear the tension of a bowstring being pulled back, followed by a hiss that sent gooseflesh trailing up his spine.

“Jahora! Get d-”

Before he could finish another arrow flew from the forest, shrouded in a deep red aura. It struck the Mage’s barrier in an explosion of force and light. The distant, ethereal sound of shattering glass followed. A cough chased after it as Jahora was thrown from the wagon and struck the ground on her back. She wheezed in a failed attempt to recover and with the wind knocked from her lungs, she was unable to find the strength to stand.

“Leaf!” Helbram yelled, his intent obvious as he looked at the fallen Mage.

“I got it!” The archer hopped from the wagon. “Just keep them off of us.”

Helbram turned back to the bandits, who had already resumed their charge. Murder had returned to their eyes, glinting within the shadows that danced across their faces under the light of the flare above. A sick glee washed over them as they grinned, eager to spill blood.

He steeled himself to do the same.

Five.

There was still a good stone’s throw of distance between Helbram and the bandits by the time they broke into a full sprint. Their reckless charge scattered them as they closed in. Only the two men at the front ran at the same pace, and upon their approach Helbram did not see thick armor on their bodies. He held his shield in front of him and hoisted his spear in an underhanded grip, waiting for them to close in. When the pair stepped within range, Helbram reared back and snapped his hand forward, throwing the spear towards the slightly slower of the pair.

The bandit had apparently thought he was still out of Helbram’s range, as it was only when the spear was about to land that he tried to twist out of the way. The effort failed and the weapon pierced him in the side. He fell to the ground with a choked scream.

Four.

Helbram followed after his thrown weapon, drawing his sword while he kept his shield in front of him. The sight of a spear through his companion’s lung was enough to make the bandit at the front hesitate, allowing Helbram to close the distance between them. The bandit swung his ax in front of him in a panic, his poor form creating an opening for Helbram to catch the desperate flail with his shield. He pushed his foe’s arm to the side, following the motion with his sword. The blade bit into the bandit’s chest, drawing a pained gasp from the thief as Helbram buried the sword to its hilt. With a quick shove of his shield, he pushed the bandit off of his blade and stepped back, preparing for the rest of the group to approach.

Three.

The next bandit let out a battle cry at the sight of his slain comrades, barreling forward with increased speed as rage overtook him. This one wielded both a mace and shield, but his form was lacking as he took a wild swing with his weapon towards Helbram’s head. The warrior tilted back to avoid the blow and then stepped in; his blade poised to strike. As a reflex the bandit raised his shield, not realizing the move had been a feint until Helbram drove the edge of his own shield into the bandit’s. It whipped to the side, catching the bandit in the jaw and staggering him back. Helbram followed, flicking his sword first across the thief’s leg to bring him to his knee and then following it with a slash at his throat. The blade cleaved through his neck, splashing a spray of bright red blood across the dirt as the bandit bled out on the ground.

Two.

Helbram had less time to prepare by the time the last of the bandits arrived. They were of larger builds, with one wielding a claymore and another a battle axe. The one with the axe struck first and brought his weapon down at Helbram’s head. He stepped to the side to avoid the blow, but before he could take advantage of his opponent’s exposed flank, the sword-wielding thief followed with a strike towards the warrior’s torso. 

Helbram caught the attack with his shield and twisted his arm to deflect the claymore to the side. He swung his sword at the bandit’s leg, but he jumped back to avoid the blow as his axe-wielding companion took his place. Helbram leapt back from a swing aimed at his shoulder and repositioned himself out of both of his foes’ reach. Once again, before he could take advantage of any openings, the two bandits began to alternate their attacks.

They may have had no overt skill with their weapons, but there was a coordination to their erratic dance that allowed him no room for interruption. Helbram could only deflect or dodge their blows as he looked for any flaw within their rhythm, but he knew that he was running out of time.

This was only confirmed when he heard a bowstring starting to get pulled back in the forest. That same hiss of power bled through the leaves, and he could feel his hairs stand on end.

Inspiration struck as the axe-wielding bandit charged, a smirk on his face as he raised his weapon above his head. Helbram lunged, keeping himself low to ram his shield into the bandit's lower torso. The wind was knocked from his foe, and in his weakness he could not resist Helbram’s efforts to turn him towards the forest. Another red arrow streaked from the trees at that exact moment, sinking into the bandit’s flesh. The force behind the projectile tore both the bandit and Helbram from their feet, but where the warrior had hit the ground, the thief was thrown into the forest as the arrow carried him, pinning him to a tree with a powerful thud.

One.

Before Helbram could recover the final bandit was on him. His claymore slashed down at Helbram’s skull, but the warrior caught the blow with his own sword. With a flick of his wrist, the thief’s steel was bound by the sword’s crossguard, allowing Helbram to wrench it aside. The motion yanked the bandit forward and exposed his flank, creating the opening the warrior needed to unbind their weapons and flick his blade across his foe’s abdomen. The rush of combat surged through him as his sword sheared through flesh and bone in a final, shuddering strike. The bandit collapsed, his lifeless eyes staring into Helbram’s own.

None.

“I’ve got her!” Leaf yelled.

The sound of his voice snapped Helbram back from the tide of battle. What felt like an eternity had only been around half a minute, and he could see Leaf had pulled Jahora into the wagon during his engagement with the bandits. He scrambled to his feet, pausing for a moment as he saw the last bandit’s claymore on the ground. He sheathed his own sword and snatched the larger one from the dirt before breaking towards the wagon in a dead sprint. Just as he closed in, however, he again heard the bowstring being pulled back in the forest. 

The moment he heard the hiss, he dove, avoiding another red infused arrow that embedded itself into a tree, splintering the bark on impact. Multiple shots followed, but these had not been reinforced with energy, allowing Helbram to huddle behind his shield as the projectiles bounced off of it and his armor. Each arrow struck with enough force to shake his body and one even glanced off of his helmet, which rattled him enough to blur his vision. When the flow of shots stopped, he leapt from the ground and into the wagon, coughing as he landed on his chest.

“The whole thing’s gone to shite,” Leaf said, “We need to run.”

Helbram’s gaze turned towards the caravan. Its ranks had been thinned considerably since the start of the battle, despite the efforts of the veterans trying to keep the inexperienced fighters organized. What little remained of their forces had gathered into a small group that were doing their best to hold off the tide of bandits. 

The rest lay on the ground, but to both Helbram’s relief and confusion he saw that the fallen consisted of those that either suffered light wounds or were unconscious. Some of those that were wounded made an effort to stand up and join the remaining few fighting, but they were quickly knocked back to the ground when the bandits swarmed them, hitting them over the head with their clubs. Those that trembled in fear soon joined them, and eventually the ones that were still fighting were surrounded and subdued.

Fighters that put up too much of a fight were silenced for good, which smothered any remaining resolve amongst the convoy.

Helbram could feel his teeth grinding as he scanned the battlefield, but he ignored the rage building within him as he searched for someone that should have been present. Someone that was supposed to be protecting them with their spells. Yet, Marlin was nowhere to be found.

“Helbram!” Leaf yelled.

He slammed his fist into the bed of the wagon, feeling himself shrink as his shoulders fell. He wasn’t strong enough. There was nothing that he could do for them.

He never could.

He shook his head. “Jahora, can you make another barrier?”

The Mage scrambled to her feet and coughed. “Yes, just give me a moment to gather the Aether…” She held her hands out as those two rings of light appeared around her head. Blue light flowed from them to her hands, forming a small rune between her palms.

“Leaf, cover us,” Helbram said as he shuffled into the driver’s seat.

The archer notched an arrow. “Just tell me that you’ve driven a wagon before.”

He grabbed the reins. “Never in my life.”

“Well shi-”

With a crack of the reins, the auroc attached to the wagon barreled forward, carried by the panicked energy that had no doubt been building since the start of the battle. Its burly appearance belied a surprising amount of speed as it charged into the woods, letting out a bellow that drew the attention of the bandits. Before it crashed into the branches, Jahora’s barrier took shape around the wagon. A wall of translucent blue light wrapped around them in a sphere, deflecting the hail of arrows that started to target them. Right when the trees fully enveloped them, a final empowered shot flew from the shadows, striking the barrier at its center. This time, however, the shield persisted, the attack leaving only a crack that was soon repaired once the Mage fed more Aether into the spell.

Jahora yelled in triumph when her magic held. She broke into a tired, almost maniacal laugh as they crashed through the trees. An erratic cadence of snapping branches and crushed foliage thundered around them. Magic ripped apart any forest matter that was unfortunate enough to lay in their path, and Helbram could only pray that their luck continued. Even in a panic, the auroc avoided any larger trees while keeping its momentum. Eventually, the sounds of battle started to grow distant, taking with them the light that hung over the defeated caravan. With time, the Mage’s barrier faded, and Helbram could feel his heart sink as they disappeared into darkness.

Chapter Five

It was the dead of night by the time that the wagon finally drifted to a halt. Past its initial sprint, the auroc had slowed enough that the group was able to guide them through the forest until they reached a clearing in the trees. They lost track of the distance they traveled, and had resigned themselves to letting caution pull at their whims until it lost its sway.

As they entered the clearing, Helbram was greeted by a mix of star and moonlight shimmering in from a hole in the canopy above. The glow spilled over the ground below and splashed onto the edges of the glade, sending him into a different plane; one of silver grass, blue leaves, and black trees. It would have been comforting, even enthralling, in a situation where doom had not hung around their necks like a noose.

The auroc, taken with the sight as much as Helbram was, wandered into the clearing at a plodding pace. Under the trees, its sides shuddered with each ragged intake of air, as if the shadows were choking the very life from its lungs. When the light drifted over its back, its breathing calmed under its comfort, and the beast came to a stop.

Helbram slid down from the driver’s seat and walked to the auroc’s side. He brushed his hand against its flank in an attempt to further calm the panic that no doubt still lingered within. When he arrived at the beast’s head, its breaths were still labored, and he noticed a chip in one of its small horns along with a thin scar across an eye.

“There there, you did good girl,” he said in a soft tone. He scratched behind one of the auroc’s floppy, furred ears, but upon noticing that it was having little effect, switched to a spot behind her horn. That had better results, and the beast pressed herself against him with a surprisingly soft touch, given her size. Helbram smiled and let her calm down under his ministrations.

Behind him, he could hear Leaf and Jahora getting out of the wagon. When he turned around, he saw that the pair were leaning against the vehicle, expressions a mix of weary and relieved.

“Thalamar’s bloody taint, that was a close enough shave that I swear my bollocks are startin’ to chafe,” Leaf uttered.

Jahora recoiled at the archer’s words. “Could you not talk about genitalia at the moment? Especially of the Gods.” She rubbed her brow. “I can hardly stand on my feet let alone tolerate such… vivid imagery.”

Tried as she might, the Mage soon succumbed to the weariness plaguing her and slid against the wagon until she practically melted onto the ground.

She looked up at Leaf with a lazy, but grateful smile. “Regardless, thank you for the assistance back there.”

The archer pushed himself from their carriage, but rather than remain standing he flopped onto the ground with a tired grunt. “Don’t worry about it. That magic of yours more than returned the favor.”

Helbram undid the auroc’s harness and let her wander towards the edge of the clearing. The beast sniffed around, and, after a pause, started to chew on the grass absentmindedly. He snorted and walked back to the pair, envious of the beast’s simpler desires.

“I suppose my spells did do their share of work,” Jahora said with a smirk, one that rapidly shifted to a frown, “At least, for the most part.” The Mage held up her hands, fixated on the trembling of her fingers. “It took so much just to keep a few arrows at bay.”

“I would say it was far more than a few arrows,” Helbram said as he looked over the wagon. Nicks and dents marred the surface of the cover, but there did not appear to be any major damage to the vehicle. “The ones that caused the most strife were infused with Ether.”

Jahora’s eyes widened. “Ether? That would explain it. When you’re knocked off your feet you tend to miss such details…”

“So, one of the bandits is an Awoken?” Leaf said with a moan, “Hells below, that halfling wasn’t lying about them being a cut above your average thieves.”

Helbram pressed his lips thin and tapped a fist against the wagon. “I suspect that Marlin was working with them”.

“What makes you say that?” The archer asked.

“His magics were noticeably absent during the battle, for starters.” He motioned to Jahora. “Were he as proactive as our friend here, then the outcome may have been much different.”

The Mage betrayed a smile before straightening her face. “Could it be that he was subdued first? As potent as magic can be, it makes little difference if there is no time to prepare a spell.”

“You may be right, but I did not so much as glance a spark of Aether in his direction, even as you warned everyone. Other factors must be considered as well…” His gaze flicked to Leaf. “The wagon’s driver, for instance.”

The archer scowled, “You’re right, the bastard was a bloody rat.”

“No doubt planted by Marlin himself,” Helbram suggested, “and if that is true, we can only guess how much of the caravan were actually bandits in the first place.” He met the eyes of both Leaf and Jahora. “Given that we were all targeted in some fashion, I believe it is safe to assume none of us are amongst their rank.”

His voice was relaxed, but there was an uncurrent of pressure that lay beneath it. Neither the Mage nor the archer appeared to react to the statement other than giving him a nod. That was enough to release the tension that was building between his shoulders. He didn’t think that the bandits would have anyone capable of putting on that good of an act.

At least, he hoped they didn’t.

“Then that means the bandits have an Awoken and a Mage in their gang,” Leaf groaned, “We’d be like fish tryin’ to walk going up against somethin’ like that.”

As true as it was, Helbram felt an impulse to disagree, a notion fueled by that flame that told him to set out on this “adventure” in the first place.

Sense won out this time and he nodded. “He is right.” He started to walk over to the auroc, ready to strap her to the wagon again. “We need to get back to Silverglen, war-”

The auroc’s head whipped up, staring past Helbram and towards the forest. As he followed the beast’s gaze, he listened out towards the trees, Ether still circulating through his ears. Silence, a shroud of utter stillness that choked the surrounding ambience, followed by a pressure that swelled around them. The words at Helbram’s throat choked. It appeared to have done the same to Jahora and Leaf as well, and the three of them stood frozen in place for what felt like centuries. The archer’s eyes zipped from side to side, searching for what was causing this alien presence, but the building scowl on his face told Helbram that his efforts were amounting to nothing.

The pressure released with a snap and sliced through the tension like a whip. Helbram stumbled forward from something pulling at him. Not his body, but him, the very foundations of his existence. For a brief moment he felt distant, like he was going to go unconscious, but his senses snapped back to him once shock rattled his body. His skin started to prickle as an unseen energy filled the air, brushing up against him and standing his hairs up. A thump thundered in the distance, pursued by a cascade of fluttering branches and foliage as a wave of force pulsed through the forest. It struck Helbram and staggered him back, but he remained on his feet as it brushed past him. Light followed, turning the grass at his feet stark white. Its source pulled his attention up.

A pillar of blue-white energy had cut into the night sky, consuming the stars themselves in its vibrance. When it reached its apex, it exploded into another wave of force and light. Streaks of translucent blue were painted across the black canvas of the night sky and danced like ribbons. The very notion of night itself was burned away from this all-consuming wave of power barreling along on its course. It encompassed most of the air above before it arced downwards.

Right where Helbram happened to be standing.

He dove forward, his body numb as the light slammed into the ground, shooting clouds of dirt and dust through the clearing. A burst of kinetic energy swelled from the impact site, catching Helbram mid leap and kicking him towards the edge of the glade. His head struck the ground first, giving way to a mind splitting ring that dug itself deep into his ears. It was loud enough to nearly drown out the newfound pain at his side, courtesy of the tree he was thrown against. Helbram cut the flow of Ether from his ears to cull his sensitivity. The sound reduced to a dull ache that muffled anything else he could have been hearing. Dust settled when the light from the sky finally recessed. Around the same time, Helbram’s senses returned back to normal.

“Melissandra’s tits, the hells was that?!” Jahora yelled. When Helbram followed her voice, he saw that she was hiding beneath the wagon. 

“How should I bloody know?!” Leaf yelled back, “Gods, as if this day couldn’ get any worse!”

Helbram shook his head and grumbled under his breath.

“Helbram?” Jahora asked, “Are you alright?”

“No,” he answered as he got to his feet, “But that is neither here nor there…” He started to sigh as he looked around, but it soon grew into a groan as his eyes fell on what the light had left behind.

Leaf poked his head from around a tree, “Don’ tell me som-,” he also let out a groan.

Jahora crawled out from under the wagon, her brows furrowed in irritation. “What? What’s happened? Stop being so vague…” she dusted off her robes and looked at where the two men stared. When she saw what they saw, exasperation washed across her face.

Helbram guessed that the wave of energy was no doubt a mass of Aether. What had even caused such a blast of power was beyond him at the moment, but he could clearly see its effects. A trench had been left from where the light struck, arcing off towards the depths of the forest into what Helbram could only assume was now a large ring. It was not a large gap, something that he could have easily jumped with a running start, but what flowed up from its depths was another problem entirely.

Sheer blue energy radiated up from the trench and towards the sky, tracing the arc that the wave of light followed when it impacted the forest floor. The power was condensed and fluid as it flowed upwards, as if liquid crystal had started to disobey the laws of gravity itself. Had it not been between Helbram and the rest of the forest, he would have thought the sight mesmerizing. He picked up a stone from the dirt and threw it at the light, watching it ripple as the rock bounced off of it.

“Barrier,” is all Helbram could say.

Chapter Six

Leaf squatted down and took in a deep breath while he ran his hands through his hair. His back heaved as if he was about to say something, but Jahora beat him to the punch.

“Shite.”

The archer pointed at the Mage and nodded vigorously, letting whatever else he was going to add fade as he settled for a frustrated cry towards the ground.

Helbram could barely make out the other end of the barrier through the light of the magics at work, but whatever he could spot appeared distorted and oblong. It was like he was looking through the bottom of a glass. He already knew that they were within the area contained by the barrier, but it was only confirmed as he followed the path of the shield up and saw it arc inwards. The light flowed across the sky, feeding into a column of energy that speared into the stars at what Helbram could only assume was the center of the now sectioned off land. Whatever was causing this effect would no doubt be at the base of the pillar.

“So, the caravan’s been defeated, we’re outnumbered, and the bandits may have both a Mage and an Awoken on their side,” Jahora said in an exasperated tone. 

“They are also well organized,” Helbram added, “Perhaps not soldiers, but there was a coordination to them that was beyond the average gang of thieves.”

“That’s besides the point,” Jahora sighed. “And now we’re to believe that they have the means of deploying a barrier over a large area?”

“Indeed.” Helbram walked over to the back of the wagon. As he circled around the vehicle, he noticed that the auroc was off towards the other end of the clearing. He also scanned the path that the wagon took to get into the clearing and saw that whatever destruction they caused in their reckless charge was on the other side of the barrier.  That, and the sight of the auroc, gave him a surprising amount of relief, though he could still feel the tremble in his hands start as their situation became clearer.

“We have no means of escape,” Leaf said, “and no back up.”

“Also true.” Helbram walked around to the back of the carriage and hopped into its bed. The barrels and crates within appeared to have remained undamaged during their flight from the battlefield, but he could see they had been scuffed against each other during the chaos.

“You are oddly calm about this,” Jahora said, but her own voice was starting to steady.

“I am terrified.” Helbram walked up to the nearest barrel, noting the lid had a circle of brass embedded into its wood. “But panicking here is useless, so the best thing that we can do is take a moment and come up with a plan… or some semblance of one, at the very least.”

A series of runes were carved into the metal, and Helbram could see that there was a transparent green crystal embedded at the center of the circle. He slipped his fingers into the three gaps surrounding the crystal and gave the brass ring a twist. A heavy, metallic clicking responded to his efforts, followed by a hiss of air as the seal of the container released.

When he removed the lid, he was greeted by the familiar scents of dried biscuits and preserved meats. To his surprise, and a minor amount of allowed excitement, he caught a sweet smell as well, which he hoped were dried fruits of some kind. He did not catch the stale perfume of hardtack either, which was also a cause for comfort. He’d had his fill of that many, many moons ago.

He picked up one of the rations, a bundle wrapped in sturdy paper and string, and weighed it in his hands. Satisfied, he picked up two more before replacing the barrel’s lid and twisting its metallic circle back into its original position. The moment that the final click sounded, another hiss followed as the green crystal at the lid’s center glowed. A small stream of air billowed up from the barrel, a sign that the vacuum seal was restoring itself. After a moment, the gust stopped and the gem went inert.

Helbram emerged from the wagon and tossed a ration to both Jahora and Leaf. There was a brief moment where the both of them looked at him in confusion, but they appeared to show no further objection to his whims as they unwrapped their meals.

“To start on an optimistic note, the wagon does appear to have plenty of provisions for the time being,” Helbram said while sampling a piece of jerky, “should this become a prolonged endeavor, then we are not in danger of growing hungry.”

“If we can even keep it,” Leaf said, “there’s probably patrols out lookin’ for people right now and we’re easily seen here. We should keep movin’, give them less chance of spottin’ us.”

“You are not wrong, constantly shifting position would be the stealthier approach, but there is always the risk that we are spotted as we move… have you any spells that could assist with this?” He turned to Jahora, seeing that she’d already taken a bite out of a biscuit.

Before the Mage tried to respond, she made an attempt to swallow her food, but coughed as the effort failed. She held her hand out while hiding her mouth. Leaf unstrapped the canteen from his waste and tossed it at her. With a large drink of water, she let out a relieved groan.

“You have to let it sit on the tongue a bit,” Leaf said as he took a bite from a piece of dried fruit, “damned things will go down like rocks otherwise.”

The Mage wiped her lips. “Noted, but to answer your question…” She faced Helbram. “I might be able to come up with something, but I need some time to think.”

“And we have to address that.” Leaf pointed towards the auroc, who had resumed eating the grass at the edge of the glade. “Cuddly as she is, she's also going to make more noise than a greased-up pig in a pottery shop if we keep her around.”

Helbram bit his lip. He didn’t like having to abandon the animal, but the point the archer raised wasn’t wrong. They found enough distraction in their food for them to eat in relative silence, but he could tell that the more the situation dawned over their heads the more restless they grew.

“Let us give Jahora some more time to ruminate,” Helbram finally said. He focused his attention on Leaf. “Do you mind keeping an eye out while I take inventory?”

He shrugged. “Why not? Numbers and spells are not my specialty anyways.” 

He picked up his bow and walked towards the edge of the glade, focus clear as he kept his head on a swivel, searching for any oncoming threats. The archer was trying to do so in a manner that appeared relaxed and methodical, but there was subtle tension draped across his shoulders. He was on edge, and the rapid taps he made against his leg only reinforced that notion. Jahora, who was now muttering to herself as she examined the wagon, bore a similar burden across her smaller frame. The way that her eyes darted from side to side told Helbram that she was still cautious. He was in no position to judge either one of the two. After all, wasn’t he doing the same? The grinding of his teeth was telling him that, at least.

He hopped back into the wagon, taking a moment to himself as its cover concealed him. A tremble started at his back and trailed to his fingers, refusing to stop even as he clenched his fists. With a deep breath, he leaned against the wagon’s support and closed his eyes.

“One thing at a time…” he whispered under his breath.

When he finally lifted his eyelids, the trembling stopped and focus took hold over him instead. To his fortune, taking inventory of their supplies proved to be a good distraction from the hopelessness of their situation. Given that they were piled outside of the containers, he took stock of the arrows and spears at their disposal first. There were three spears left after the one he threw back at the battle had been left behind, and the arrows were plentiful enough that he couldn’t see Leaf running out anytime soon. Those, along with their current gear and the claymore Helbram had picked up, meant that they were relatively well equipped to handle any minor threats. “Minor” was what he hoped would be the limit of their interactions with the bandits.

He examined the storage containers next. Three of the barrels, similar in design to the one he opened, were filled with rations just like the ones they ate, and he found one crate that was also filled with extra biscuits. The other crates were filled with tools such as ropes and pitons, but he was disappointed to find that no tents were among their contents. The overly cautious side of his mind told him that it may have been for the best, as tents would make spotting wherever they chose to set up more noticeable to passing patrols.

“The barrier should keep us dry from any rain, at the very least,” he said to himself.

He shook his head afterwards. Of all the things he should be concerned about, why had rain come to mind? Chastising himself, he searched through the final crate, finding supplies for lanterns and various other utilities, but again he could not see them being used much if their goal was to remain hidden. As he searched further, his hands eventually settled around a small package. When he pulled it from the crate’s depths, he found it to be a small black box, one that was sealed by a brass latch. Opening the container, it revealed three bottles filled with red liquid resting on a bed of blue velvet. The sight of them brought him a small wave of relief, and he emerged from the wagon with a slight hop to his step.

“There is some good news,” Helbram said as his boots hit the ground.

Jahora, arms crossed and brow furrowed, relaxed as she turned to him. “Really? Do tell.”

He showed the Mage the contents of the box. “Healing potions. Perhaps not something that will save us from our impending threat, but should any of us come to harm then we have a quicker method of treating ourselves.”

“I’ll take anything at this point,” she said with a small laugh. Her eyes turned to the bottles and narrowed. “It does appear that the potency of these are high, however…”

Helbram took a look at the potions now that they were in a better light. The liquid in the bottles was a bright red, which matched the conclusion that Jahora drew upon seeing them.

“There’s somethin’ about that, right?” Leaf said from the edge of the glade. “The brighter the red…”

“The more you wish you were dead.” Helbram finished in a blunt tone.

“Can’t we just dilute them or somethin’?” the archer suggested.

Jahora shook her head. “The enchantments stored within the liquid are bound by both its contents and its volume, which means that we can’t thin out its effects without breaking the enchantments and rendering it inert.” She sighed. “Which means that we cannot sip at it, either. It has to be used in one shot.”

Leaf scratched his head. “But you can pour it onto wounds, can’t you? Doesn’t that split up the ‘volume’?”

“Should its contents be utilized within a short time span and upon the same being, then the magics within seep into the body and coalesce together to bring about its effects.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But we’re getting lost in the weeds now.”

“Regardless, we may just want to save these as a last resort,” Helbram said as he closed the box, “save it for injuries that need to be treated immediately. Healing our wounds in the field does us little good if we are to be rendered unconscious from the pain afterwards…”

Jahora nodded. “Agreed, but it is reassuring to have some form of safety net.”

“Indeed.” His attention shifted back to the glade around them. “Have you managed to come up with something?”

The Mage scrunched her face and made an uncertain gesture. “I have an idea, but let us say it’s a bit risky.”

Helbram waited for her to elaborate.

“What if we don’t move from our position at all?”

He leaned back. “That would indeed be quite the gamble.”

“Now, hear me out.” Jahora held up her hands. “This clearing may leave us wide in the open but the forest around us is dense. I can’t imagine we’d be able to find a place to settle comfortably amongst such dense foliage.”

The memory of his “nap” in the woods just yesterday popped into Helbram’s mind, and he had to admit that she did have a point. He let her continue.

“However, the abundance of trees does make for excellent cover. Illusions are not my strong suit but with enough time and some crystal dust,” she tapped the pouch tied to her hip, “I’ll be able to produce a longer lasting glamor that blends the area in with the rest of the forest. We run the risk of someone walking through it, but at a distance it should keep us hidden.”

“That is not a bad plan, barring one other factor…” Helbram motioned to the constantly shifting light of the barrier, “can said illusion mimic that imagery? It is not exactly static.”

The Mage rubbed the center of her brow. “Right, how did I forget to factor that in? I could make an approximation of its pattern, but syncing it will prove difficult.”

Helbram ran through their options once again. Staying would allow them to keep all their supplies and provide a point they could always return to, but their concealment wasn’t going to be perfect and they could always get unlucky. On the other hand, they could also be just as unlucky if they kept on the move and happened to run into a wandering patrol by chance.

“Let us go with your idea,” he finally said, “If Leaf is in agreement, of course.”

The archer looked back at them from the trees. “She raises some good points, but…” he looked at the auroc on the other end of the clearing, “we’re goin’ to have to get rid of her.”

The bovine beast looked up from her meal and stared at the group, beady eyes oblivious to their conversation.

“Oh, don’t look at me so…” Jahora said with a pained voice, “The man is right though, you’re going to make far too much noise for us.”

Helbram gave the Mage a pat on the back. “Aurocs are hardy creatures, she will be able to weather whatever comes her way. But, we should get started, time is of the essence.”

Jahora walked around the perimeter of the glade, the Circles of Aether wrapped around her head as she prepared to cast a spell. Purple energy drifted from the rings and towards her hand like mist as she reached into the small pouch at her side. A pinch of crystal dust slipped from her fingers when they left the bag, drifting to the ground in a cloud of white, shimmering sand. When the energy flowing into her hand combined with the fine powder, she tossed it in front of her, using the small motes of light produced to paint stars over the canvas of darkness that lay within the trees. They lingered for a moment, then blinked out of existence, leaving behind only a faint haze that hovered around where the dust touched.

While the Mage went about her business, Helbram and Leaf focused on moving the wagon from the center of the clearing. The metallic platform’s levitating nature allowed the two men to move it to the edge of the glade, but it still required a great amount of effort to shift its sheer mass. With a string of muttered curses beneath their breaths, they positioned it near a mass of shrubbery and trees before pulling the lever at the side of the driver’s seat, cutting off the magitech engine underneath. Aether bled from the device, and the last of its magics allowed it to sway to the ground as a leaf would in a spring breeze. Not wanting to depend on Jahora’s spell entirely to conceal its presence, the two men wasted no time to cover most of its exterior in branches and other foliage, but left enough room to get in and out of the wagon in relative comfort.

“What’s that for anyways?” Leaf asked as he brushed off his hands. He tilt his head towards Jahora, who tossed another pinch of crystal dust at the clearing’s edge.

“Consider it a binder of sorts,” Helbram explained, “granting magics a bit more body to linger around longer than just casting the spell by itself.”

“Is that so? I’m glad she happened to have that on hand,” Leaf said, “I don’t even know where it comes from.”

Helbram tapped the wagon, “From devices such as these. Or rather, their engines. As an Aether Crystal uses its energy it leaves behind crystal dust; particles of solidified, inert Aether which can then be used for the reason I stated before. Once it has been used in such a state, it is spent in its entirety and returns to the Cycle, as all things do with time.”

The archer narrowed his eyes. “You know an awful lot for someone wearing a bucket on their head all the time.”

Helbram snorted. “The result of many aimless wanderings, but we can discuss such things later.” He focused his attention towards the auroc. “We have another task to take care of.”

Leaf pressed his lips thin. “Aye.”

It didn’t take much effort to draw the beast of burden away from the clearing. Leaf guided her after he snatched up a bundle of grass and what Helbram could only guess was some type of special herb that the auroc had an especially keen interest in. When they were a good distance away, the archer allowed the bovine to eat from his hand, giving her a gentle rub behind her horn. She pressed against him and looked at both men with her beady eyes, giving her already docile expression an air of kindness that brought a pang of guilt to Helbram’s chest.

“Why do all of you have to look so bloody innocent…” Leaf looked into the beast’s eyes. “Now you listen here, you best keep lookin’ nice and naive like that, alright? I better be seein’ you strapped to some bandit’s cart when we next meet.” He smirked. “That way we can just whisk you off again.”

Helbram ran a hand through the auroc’s pelt and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “Listen to the man,” he said in a whisper, right before hitting her on the rear.

Both men watched the auroc speed off into the woods, making sure that she was out of sight before they turned to go back to the glade. However, when he looked back, Helbram could no longer see the clearing. More trees greeted him instead, branches thick enough to hide the shifting patterns of light from the barrier behind it. His eyes narrowed, finding no flaw to what he knew was the now completed illusion, and smirked to himself. It appeared Jahora had been downplaying her capabilities.

As if responding to his thoughts, the Mage poked her head out from the illusion, face bright with a grin.

“Gods,” Leaf hissed, “give us a warnin’ before you do that! Bloody floating heads in the trees…”

Jahora rolled her eyes. “Spoilsports aside, I do believe this is some of my best work.” Her hand poked out from the illusion. “Come on in and I’ll show you.”

The two men followed after her when she disappeared back into the “trees”. When Helbram stepped through the false image, he could feel a buzz hover over his skin as the magics forming it brushed over him. The clearing revealed itself right after, along with the sight of a triumphant Jahora, her hands on her hips as she beamed with pride.

She motioned for him to turn around, and when he did he noticed that he could see the forest outside of the illusion. Its image was slightly distorted, but he could still make out most of the shapes that had not been concealed by shadow.

“It's nothing like some of the illusionists in Helios can do, but I figured a two-way illusion would allow us to keep a better eye out.”

“Smart thinking,” Helbram said, “what of sound?” He hadn’t mentioned it to Jahora before, but he was curious.

The Mage puffed her chest out with pride. “I thought of that too, of course. The spell should dampen any sounds that we make within, but if any of us happen to yell…” she side eyed Leaf, “then it is still possible to be heard.”

Helbram smirked. “I am sure that we will keep our volume low for the time being. Regardless, this is very fine work, thank you.”

Jahora scratched the back of her head, “Heh, I do try my best. This should keep us hidden so long as we are cautious, and that’s something that we all can take comfort in.”

“If they don’t happen to have some bullshite that lets them see through illusions,” Leaf said with a bitter tone, “bastards are just full of tricks.”

The Mage visibly deflated. “Oh don’t say that. Now you’ve gone and ruined it.” Her lips puffed out in a pout.

“I’m jus’ speakin’ the truth.”

Helbram held his hands up between the two as he felt a pressure rise between their sharpening glares. “Let us just allow ourselves a modicum of hope and say that they do not possess such boons, shall we? In the meantime, we should set up a watch, just to be extra sure.” He looked to Leaf. “Would you like first or second?”

Leaf was quiet for a moment as he scanned the forest. “First, I’ve no magic sight to see in the dark but these eyes haven’t failed me in the dead of night.”

“Then I shall take second,” Helbram said.

“What about me?” Jahora asked.

“You need to focus on saving your strength,” Helbram explained, “I have a feeling we will be asking much of you and your spells soon.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she eventually relaxed. “I suppose you're right, I do need to refresh the enchantments in the morning anyhow…” She wagged her finger at both of the men. “But none of you push yourselves too hard, you hear me? Odds are I’ll be needing one of you to carry me as we navigate this mess.”

She marched back to the wagon with a wave. Before she stepped into its bed, her shoulders sagged. Fatigue had finally caught up to her.

Leaf shook his head. “Well, at least she’s honest.”

“Are you going to be alright out here?” Helbram asked.

The archer gave a flippant wave, “Don’t worry about it. Get yourself some rest, tomorrow is going to be a long day, I can feel it.”

Helbram nodded and took off his helmet, feeling his face grow cooler as the night air touched the sweat that had built on his brow.

“Oho, I didn’t know we had an old man with us,” Leaf said with a coy smile.

Helbram frowned. “I am only twenty-five.”

“You look thirty.”

He rubbed his stubbled chin and walked back to the wagon. He really, really needed a shave.

When he slipped under the wagon’s cover he found Jahora already fast asleep, wrapped in a bundle of cloth and leaned against a barrel, making her seem smaller than she already was. The sight of her so soundly resting brought a heavy weight to his eyelids, and when he sat down he found them impossible to open. Accepting defeat, he rested his head against the wagon and relaxed. Sleep took him a moment later.

Chapter Seven

Helbram found himself within a void.

Pitch black surrounded him, darker than the space between the stars, deeper than the shadows that clung to the crevices of the forest that had all but swallowed him moments before. He was able to stand within its depths, and despite the total absence of light around him, his own physical form was clearly visible to his eyes. He examined his gauntleted hand with a passing, knowing interest as expectation gave way to resignation.

“Here again, I see…”

Heat flared in front of him and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the source of it. Yet still, he could feel the licks of its warmth brush through his helmet and against his face, feel the fervor that seeped into his skin and burn its way to his heart. His hands trembled as a rush overwhelmed him, an echo of dreams long passed. It provoked an impulse that younger years would have embraced with open arms and an aching heart. The provocation bounced off of him now, shaking the rust from the iron shell that reality had placed over his desires.

The heat faded, and he opened his eyes. Sand was at his feet, fine and bleached from the sun that he could feel blasting from above. A roar surrounded him, the deafening chorus of cheers from men and women alike thundering against his shoulders. A creak broke through the noise, drawing his eyes upward towards its source. The cadence of rusted gears pounded against his eardrums as he saw a large, rising gate forged from crude metals. The outlines of three people revealed themselves within the shadows. Once again that impulse surged through him, urging him to step forward, to rise to the challenge ahead. He felt the pair of eyes on his back, the expectations that he thought were riding upon his efforts, but still, he did not move. He knew how this would end. How it always ended.

Hands pulled at him, dragging him away from the gate as his armor was stripped away, leaving him bare as his back landed upon a cloud sewed from threads of silk. Fingers traced his arms and glided across his chest; their touch delicate as soft sighs brushed against the back of his neck. Her laughter followed, melodic and beautiful as it rang into his ears, deepening the cracks of his heart as he could feel it ache with desire. He could feel the warmth behind him, filling his soul with a comfort that he knew to be false. Yet still, he gave in, turning to face it, to see her.

A scream ripped him from the sheets and slammed him against the ground. The warmth faded from him as he could feel the chill of his armor creep back over his skin. Once again, his eyes looked through his visor and onto the pebbled floors of a cave, and that growing chill dug into his spine as he knew what was coming. Another scream, wordless but pleading for mercy, for a salvation that he could not give. Blood followed, viscous and thick as it pooled beneath, casting his own red reflection up at him. Iron filled his nostrils and his vision blurred, failing to obscure the pair of bright blue eyes that formed next to his image. Eyes that were unblinking, that stared at him with shock and horror. The name that belonged to those eyes slammed against his mind, but Helbram did not let it in. He could not let it in.

The cave floor faded back into the darkness and his vision now fell upon a large hand that wrapped around his. Its touch was calloused, digging into his skin as it clenched around his fingers. Black flowed through the veins at the back of the hand like streaks of inked lightning, and a yell of pain tore into Helbram’s mind as guilt gouged a hole in his chest. His fingers were reduced to dust as the hand continued to clutch onto them, but he did not pull away. He deserved this, all of it and more.

The hand disappeared and he found himself within the void once again. Heat washed over his back, and this time he rose to face it.

A flame greeted him, a simple tongue of fire that danced to a wind that he could not feel. He stared at it, feeling it pull at him, and this time he let it in. He took a step towards it, knowing what was to come.

A stone fell in front of the fire, twice as tall as him and nearly three times that wide. Scratches marred its once perfectly flat surface, grouped with chunks that were knocked from its corners and holes that pocked its grain. His eyes focused on one miniscule scratch at the rock’s edge before he closed them and looked away.

Footsteps followed, and when Helbram opened his eyes, the stone was gone and a figure stood in front of him. It was humanoid, that much he could tell, and it shifted between the lithe, graceful form of a woman and the larger, bulky frame of a man. Armor covered most of its body, remaining static in a plain, nearly featureless style, but shifting in size as it flicked between its two forms. He wished that it wore a helmet, for what stared at him instead was a formless face, possessing no eyes, no mouth, and no nose. Hair flowed from its temples, but that too shifted in form between long, blonde locks and a short, militaristic cut of brown.

“These two this time…” he said to himself. He looked at his hands, seeing that they now held his sword and shield.

A longsword appeared in the figure’s hand, snapping into existence with no visual tell. Its blade flared stark white against the darkness that surrounded them and Helbram could swear that it was glinting with a light that he could not see. The figure slipped into a stance, keeping its feet wide and sword pointed in front of it, directly at Helbram.

He sighed and shook his head, but answered his opponent’s provocation. His feet spread and he kept his shield in front of him while readying his sword over his head. They faced each other, air growing thick with silence as neither of them moved.

The figure struck first, shifting to its slender form before it lunged at him, the tip of its sword aimed at his head. It was a sudden movement, one that would have caught anyone else off guard, but he’d seen it before.

Countless times.

Helbram stepped forward and raised his shield, catching the thrust and forcing it to the side as he pushed towards the figure’s now exposed flank. His blow at the exposed weak spot missed as the figure skipped back, shifting to its larger frame. It stepped in with a slash towards Helbram’s head, but the warrior intercepted the strike with his sword and caught it in a bind. He manipulated the locked blades to the side and drove the edge of his shield into his opponent's chest. As the blow landed, he leaned into it, pushing the figure off balance. Helbram unlocked their swords and flicked his blade at the created opening, but the attack was deflected by the figure as it staggered back. Helbram did not pursue this time, allowing his opponent to regain its balance and slip back into its stance.

He twirled his sword and relaxed his posture. This dream would prove to be a long one.

Their melee descended into a dance, one that he’d memorized the rhythm to many nights ago. The figure was a fine opponent, capable of reacting to each of his strategies quickly and decisively. If he pushed the offensive, it would retain its bulkier form, soaking most of his blows with its armor before lashing out with single, heavy swings. On the odd occasion that such blows had to be blocked instead of dodged, they landed with enough force that Helbram had to shift his feet just to keep balance. When that happened, the figure shifted to its more graceful shape, replacing its heavy-handed blows with a flurry that struck with such a speed that Helbram could barely keep up a defense.

Yet defend he did. He had seen these motions countless times, took them many more, and now his body was driven by impulse alone.

A feint to the right followed by a strike at his left flank.

Block, then thrust into the exposed gap in its armor.

It leapt back, shifting into its larger form.

Step in, strike its leg with your shield.

The figure’s leg buckled, leaving it exposed.

Aim for the head.

The figure rolled back from Helbram’s slash and transformed into its smaller frame. A cut lingered on its face for a moment, then vanished.

Their melee continued, blade clashing against sword and shield in continued exchanges that brought tired breaths to Helbram’s lungs. Despite his increasing fatigue, each clash leaned in his favor as the battle went on, and Helbram pressed his assault against his constantly shifting opponent. Each small scratch that he landed upon its body, each exploit of newfound weaknesses, slowed the figure’s speed and soon its strength started to falter as well. With a final exchange Helbram caught its blade with his own and smashed his shield into the figure’s wrist, forcing it to drop its weapon. He kicked it to the side and pressed his own sword against its neck. His chest heaved with every intake of air, flaring the burning that had formed in his lungs, but he stood tall.

“Looks like… I win… again,” he said, any triumph that he may have had ringing hollow in his tone. He took in a long, tired breath and stepped back. His hand shook, wanting to throw his sword to the side before he faced what was coming next. Fighting it wouldn’t have made a difference, but stubbornness still won and he slipped back into his stance.

“Come, finish it.”

The figure stood up, its wounds sealing while it shifted to its smaller frame. It readied its sword again, but this time Helbram could feel the air around it start to shift. Pressure flowed from the figure, a suffocating presence that made Helbram set his jaw as a blue aura of Ether radiated off of the figure’s body. An orb the size of his fist lay within the figure’s chest, pulsing with that same-colored light. The energy flowed into its sword and condensed, sheathing the blade in light. With that, Helbram knew the outcome was sealed.

He braced himself for his opponent’s charge. The figure moved in a blur that he could barely recognize before it struck. It was an assault that he’d been on the receiving end of many times before. He knew where the figure would aim, where its attacks would land, but the moment that he blocked the first blow a second struck his flank less than a second later. His armor absorbed most of the strike, but even such a glancing blow was now enough to drive the wind from his lungs.

You know how this ends.

Helbram jumped to the side to lessen the impact of the attack, allowing the figure to shift to its larger form. He raised his shield as the aura around his opponent’s blade flared red, catching another blow at its center once the figure stepped in. Force exploded from its sword, cleaving into Helbram’s shield before knocking him off of his feet. He landed on his back and rolled with the impact to catch himself upright, but his recovery was interrupted as the figure was already on him, shifted back to its lithe frame. 

Try as you might…

He raised his sword to catch whatever was aiming for his head, only to be struck in the chest instead.

As hard as you fight…

The flurry continued, raining down upon his breastplate as he kept his head covered with his shield. The figure shifted back to its bulky form and landed another Ether infused blow against his shield, shattering it as his hand whipped to the side.

You will lose, as you always have.

Helbram struck out, his attack nothing more than a desperate flail as it landed, leaving only a thin scratch on his opponent’s armor. His sword shook in his trembling fingers. Was it anger that coursed through him? Fear? Both?

The figure loomed over him, its featureless face unreadable as it raised its sword over its head. Helbram looked beyond his victorious opponent, vision falling upon the flame that called to him before. It was far away now, barely a spark that flicked in the distance, but even then, he could see it dim just a bit more.

Like it always had, every night.

Silence sat over him as he looked at the fire, broken only by his own weathered breaths. A flash of red pulsed through the figure’s sword, and it brought it down on his head.

Chapter Eight

When the nightmares first started, their end would wake him with a start. Each felling blow against his dream self echoed and jolted throughout all of his being, bringing panicked cries to his lips. A cold sweat would form after, one that chilled him to the bone and sent trembles to quake his limbs beyond any measure of control. The phantom pains would fade, only to be replaced by the dagger that was driven into his heart, stilling his cries with a gasp as all of him froze from newfound agony. 

His gaze would fix upwards; be it at the stars of midnight, the creaky wooden roofs of taverns whose names he’d long forgotten, or even the damp, dark stone of caves he called shelter. Regardless, the sight would always pull him in, paralyzing him in that state of torture for hours, repeating the nightmare in his head over and over until the morning sun chased it away. Even then, when his body decided it could move, he could only sit up and stare ahead, waiting for the shivers to fade from him entirely.

Now? His eyes fluttered open after the figure in his nightmare slew him, and he felt no pain other than a dull ache at his neck. His lips were silent and pressed thin as gooseflesh prickled across his body in the place of sweat, its chill never reaching beyond his skin and bringing only the slightest of tremors to his fingers. The dagger that stabbed at his heart was no more, replaced instead by frustration wearing the cloak of resignation. It smoldered within his chest, and rather than freeze him in place as he looked up at the wagon’s roof, it instead spurred him to stand from his seated position.

The darkness of night still lingered within the pale rays of starlight outside, unwilling to reveal how much time had passed since he closed his eyes. Jahora was still asleep, her breathing now settled to a gentle rhythm. The blanket over her had fallen at some point and, keeping as silent as possible, he slipped it back over her shoulders before turning to leave. He put on his helmet and stopped at the wagon’s opening, drawing in air to calm the slight shake that his nerves still felt. There were worse dreams that he could have.

For a moment, he saw the blood on the cave floor again, the blue eyes that stared at him through it, and the tremble in his hands grew more volatile.

Far worse.

He shook his head and snatched the claymore that rested against a barrel, letting the feel of its leather handle distract him as pushed himself out of the wagon’s bed. He saw Leaf at the edge of the clearing’s perimeter, just touching the slight haze that marked where Jahora’s glamor had taken hold. The archer’s head was moving side to side in a constant, slow swivel, but the moment that Helbram’s boots hit the ground he froze and his ears perked up. He turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“A bit early, don’t you think?” he asked.

Helbram looked up, seeing that the twin moons above had moved maybe a foot across the sky since he rested.

“You would be correct,” he admitted, “but let us say that a restful slumber is not within my cards at the moment.”

Leaf was silent as he waited for Helbram to elaborate. When he didn’t, the archer shrugged and moved from his position. “Well, it’s only to my benefit. I could do with a few more winks.”

As he and Helbram passed each other, he placed a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “If you do find yourself noddin’ off, come and get me. I can carry the Mage if need be, but the most you’ll be gettin’ out of me is a healthy tug through the dirt if you’re draggin’ your feet.”

Helbram laughed. “Noted, but you have nothing to worry about.” He thumped his chest. “If there is anything I can claim to be proud of, it is my stamina. Just be sure that you get enough rest, I would hate to harm your pride by lugging you through the trees like a sack over my shoulder.”

Leaf smirked. “Nonsense, if anythin’ I’d just enjoy the ride.”

They clasped each other’s wrists and parted ways. By the time that Helbram made it to the glade’s edge, Leaf disappeared into the wagon, leaving him alone within the forest as he sat against one of the trees brushing against the glamour. A breeze no longer sifted through the branches, leaving the woods unnaturally still, and any sounds of ambient life were few and far between, choked from the pressure that seemed to grow thicker around him with every passing moment. His eyes scanned the depths of the forest outside the illusion that veiled them, more out of habit than necessity. The forest canopy cloaked everything in its black depths, rendering sight useless for spotting any movement through darkness’s shroud. His ears, however, would make up the difference.

Helbram took in another deep breath and attempted to reach towards his Core once again. It should have been easy, considering that he had already channeled Ether earlier that night, but when he reached out towards it, it was as if he was feeling through sand in the dark, and now his target only seemed to slip deeper and deeper into the grains. The moment he finally grasped his Core; he could only frown at the sensation. It was no secret that the amount that he possessed was miniscule, a paltry drop compared to the oceans of power that he’d seen demonstrated before, but that still did not stop the sting that he felt every time he saw what was supposed to be a manifestation of his will. He had read… been told that the energy functioned much like a muscle, expanding with regular training, but not once had it ever grown for him.

Such is the nature of my soul…

He shook his head. Disappointment or not he still had uses for the power, and now that he had a grip over his Core he put it to work. He visualized a circuit from the Core to his ears, feeling the spark of energy course through him as a hum that trailed across his skin. The sensation stopped as soon as the Ether arrived at its destination, and he felt a blanket get lifted off of his ears. The silence within the forest became all the more prominent, but he could clearly make out and tell the direction of anything that broke its fragile veil. If anything were to be making its way through the trees, he’d be able to catch notice of it early on.

It took most of the energy to maintain his enhanced hearing, but a speck of it remained, taunting him to take hold. It was a provocation that he accepted, and he could feel a weaker hum over his skin as he manipulated that free spark of power. He toyed with it at first, letting it infuse into his fingers so that the cold of the night air was able to bite deeper into their joints, making them feel naked despite the gauntlet that covered his hand. 

He commanded the energy back, but the chill lingered as his Ether lagged in its response, only trailing up to the center of his forearm by the time he beckoned it to his elbow. It always moved like sap on winter’s day, but the power was especially plodding this night. He imagined another circuit, this time trailing from his arm to his opposite hand, hoping that it would speed the energy along, but it still took several seconds for it to finally reach its destination. A pale white glow formed at the center of his palm, then burst outwards, creating a weak shower of sparkles that were carried by a puff of air. He laughed at the sight.

Why could you not be born with more Ether to start with?

He stood up and brushed his legs off before looking around for something to distract his thoughts. His eyes fell back onto the claymore he brought with him, and his hands snatched it up out of instinct. Helbram walked into the clearing and rested the flat of the blade against his palm. Under moonlight, the plain steel of the sword took on a pale sheen to its profile, emphasizing the weapon’s purely functional design. 

The blade was around three fingers wide until it abruptly narrowed at the tip, and, with the handle included, it was around half a head shorter than he was in length. It was a weapon more suited for cutting rather than stabbing, which he preferred, but there was also a heftiness to the crossguard’s form that would be useful for bludgeoning as well. He wrapped his hands around the handle, feeling muscle memory start to awaken as he took a neutral guard, keeping the blade pointed in front of him.

“It has been quite some time,” Helbram muttered to himself, “hopefully, I have not lost my touch…”

He started with simple movements, first with a few vertical cuts that sliced through the air with a satisfying whip, but not so forceful that he couldn’t pull back just as quickly. Horizontal strikes followed next, growing quicker with each successive slash as his wrists started to adjust to the claymore’s weight. He let himself get lost within the motions, sparing only a bit of consciousness so that his ears were still attentive to the surrounding forest.

“Remember son,” a voice echoed into his mind, its tone deep, but gentle, “the key to any great foundation is the basics.”

He blended the slashes together, slipping from vertical to horizontal and everything in between as instinct and practice took over. Even if it was just a memory, his father’s voice always had a way of granting him focus.

“If you understand the basics…”

“Then mastery is just a matter of time.” Helbram gave a final slash, feeling the air around him scatter as he completed its arc. Behind his visor, he allowed himself a smile as the blade finally felt at home in his hands.

His practice was not done, and he let his awakened muscle memory take over and pull him into other practiced forms. Forms that held no names, but ones that his father had instilled within him nonetheless. He entertained giving them titles once, but decided against it when he thought that performing a simple thrust and calling it The Bull’s Charge was a bit too on the nose for him.

He snorted at the memory, but kept the claymore moving. The strikes became smoother, their delivery cleaner with each new swing, and, with his ears bolstered by Ether, he could hear the slight whistle that accompanied the apex of each slash. Within a few more minutes, the sword felt like an extension of himself. Not to the extent that his sword and shield had, but enough that he would not object to using it in battle, should the need for something heavier arise.

Still, he did not solely practice for the sake of remembrance. When he next slipped into a stance, he imagined the figure from his dreams and engaged with it to the rhythm of a decidedly less deadly dance. As instinct carried his sword, he directed the rest of his mind to the crumbs of Ether that he utilized before.

Ether was generated by one’s will, a manifestation that resulted in a power that allowed its wielder to exert some measure of dominance on the world around them. It could, in theory, be wielded by anyone, but was mostly used by the Awoken, those that had cultivated the power and their Cores to ever growing sizes and complexities through various methods of training, increasing the amount of Ether that was at their disposal. The Awoken that achieved strength of the greatest heights were looked upon as demigods, beings that could level forests and collapse mountains in a single swing, among many other phenomena. Most, however, settled for Ether’s basic boons, ones that lent themselves more towards simple physical enhancement, or modifying traits of what they held in their hands. In the case of a sword, an application of the energy would make its blade sharper, sometimes capable of cleaving through unenchanted steel in a single swing.

It was with this intent that Helbram fed his Ether towards his hands. Once again, the power crawled agonizingly slow to its destination, and when it arrived, he let it sit in his palms. He stopped the movements of his claymore and centered himself with another long intake of air, focusing on the singular thought of his energy flowing through the sword.

It did not move.

He grit his teeth and urged the power to obey his will, but still it did not respond. Impatience pushed his movements, and he was already three swings into his forms by the time that the energy decided to wake. When the fourth slash swept past its zenith, Ether trailed down the blade’s edge and let out a harmless puff of air. It flowed from the sword in a trail of sparks that faded before they hit the ground. His grip around the claymore’s leather handle tightened and he could feel the strain of it creak into his ears. All the while, an ember smoldered in his chest. When the energy returned to his palms, he resumed his movements once again.

He did not possess an amount of Ether that would allow him to keep a constant flow of power into his sword, meaning that the timing of when he unleashed the energy was crucial. Too early and there would be little effect upon his sword's cutting power. Too late and it would sputter off like it did before, resulting in an even more harmless effect. It should have been easy, the less power at one’s disposal, the faster that they would be able to control it, and Helbram had the smallest amount of Ether of anyone he knew. Yet, even then his control remained lacking aside from the one skill with his ears. A trick that any child would have been able to pick up in minutes.

For him, it took years.

He swung the claymore upwards, pushing Ether into the blade once more. This time it traveled too fast, spilling out before his sword even finished its arc. The sparks it left blended into the stars for a moment before fading, bringing a tremble to his vision.

He lowered his weapon and gathered himself. “Just have to adjust the timing is all…’

Helbram started to move again, this time compensating by starting to channel his energy three swings before his intended empowered strike. Two swings in and the energy erupted from his blade as mist this time rather than sparks, bringing a pause to his movements as a pale cloud cloaked his vision. He clenched his teeth and started again.

For an hour did he continue with his attempts, for an hour did he fail. No set timing to his Ether revealed itself as it continued to release at inopportune times. Sometimes it would be too early, sometimes it would be too late. There would even be times where the power would release almost at where he intended, but it was at such a random pattern that he knew it was from chance alone. His efforts amounted to nothing except heavy limbs, sweat on his brow, and a growing hollowness in his chest. With a final swing, he sent another puff of air into the clearing, eyes lingering on the specs of light that followed after it.

Helbram slipped back into his neutral guard, blade now shaking from his efforts. The flame from his dream appeared in his thoughts once again, pushing for him to make another attempt. A scream formed in his throat as a response, one that shook his body as he bit it back. He raised the claymore over his head, now drawing upon the Ether he had resting in his ears. As always, it slothed in its movements, and all the while questions would speed past it. Would it be too early this time? Too late? Would the Gods themselves come down and grant him one true strike this night?

The questions remained unanswered, for as the power reached his palms anger took over the rest of his body. He stabbed the claymore into the dirt, released his Ether, and stormed away.

His footfalls saw him to the clearing’s edge once again. He looked out into the darkness, trying to ignore the tremble that was building in his hands. The effort failed, and he slammed his fist into a tree seconds later. A rain of dead leaves and acorns followed after, with one bouncing off of his helmet with a resounding clang. The sound brought a laugh from him and he lifted his visor, letting the chill of the night air wash over his face. He closed his eyes and drew in the air around him, holding it for a long while before letting it go as a belabored sigh.

“Time Helbram, just a matter of time.”

Hollow words, ones spoken out of habit, providing little comfort beyond their familiarity. Instead, he sought solace in other compromises. The exercise was not without merit, and should the need arise to use the claymore, no one would be able to doubt his proficiency. He still preferred the safety of his sword and shield, but having options was always nice. Of course, the more he thought about it, the more his comforts turned to questions.

How would he carry the claymore if he was to wield his sword and shield? Strapping it to his back was not practical, especially if he was going to make the attempt of switching to it in the middle of combat. It would be another matter if he were able to switch between the two instantaneously…

He looked back at the claymore embedded into the dirt and let out a long breath. “Could I withstand more disappointment tonight?”

Helbram rubbed the bridge of his nose, digging to find what remained of his resolve that night. To his chagrin, there was enough to spur him to his feet, and he found himself walking towards the blade.

“Come now Helbram, just like the Mage Knights of Helios.” He scoffed. “The Mage Knight of Helios, the hells am I saying…”

He stood in front of the claymore, but looked upwards, attempting to peer through the sky as he gathered himself, though not without tossing a wordless prayer above. Like he always did before he focused, he took in a deep inhale of air, but instead of directing his attention inwards, he pushed it outwards.

Aether, unlike the internal power that was Ether, was an energy that lingered within the environment itself. All things, even his body and his very soul, were manifestations of some combination of Aether, and all things were in turn tied to the Cycle, which was the current of pure Aether that ran throughout Ellios. By reaching out to the world one could tap into the Aether that composed it, manipulating the very energies of creation itself. This was what Helbram had in mind when he centered himself, focusing on the stillness around him. One that had quieted the plants, the animals, and even the air. If a breeze happened to pass by, he would have let go of his breath, but in that stagnant atmosphere he instead held it, letting himself become just as motionless as it was.

A snap disturbed its stasis, spreading gooseflesh across his skin. When he opened his eyes, he could momentarily see specs of yellow radiating from the ground along with sparks of green, red, and blue floating around him. Other colors were present as well, but he could not place them before they faded from his sight. He knew the floating particles to be Aspected Aether, energy that had taken on more specific characteristics of the world around him, and even as they turned invisible, he could still sense their presence. It was with this awareness that he reached out to the power, feeling a tickle at the back of his mind as he formed a faint connection to it. He cupped his hand and focused his thoughts towards his palm as he finally let go of the air in his lungs.

For a minute, there was nothing, but as focus and hope faltered a warmth started to gather in his hand. Particles of Aether flowed to the center of his palm, their Aspected colors shifting to a neutral shade of pale blue as they were Transposed by his intent, shedding the skin granted to them by the environment. The raw power could now be molded into something that would subvert the natural order it was once part of. The wisp of light that formed in his hand was paltry, a zephyr in comparison to the storm that was at Jahora’s beck and call earlier that day, but it would be enough.

“I am no Mage, but a storage spell should not be beyond my reach…”

He pressed his hands together, forming a picture of the enchantment in his mind. There was no universal language or formula for spells, but those that did exist were useful in translating intent. However, images alone could serve a similar purpose for more simplistic cantrips, and it was with the mental picture of a treasure chest that Helbram willed the Aether in his hand to respond. The attempt failed, and much like his Ether the energy refused to move. He stretched his jaw to avoid clenching it and shifted a hand to wrap around his wrist. Furrowing his brow, he peered at the power in his palm and focused further. He first visualized the base of the chest; the solid, dark wood of its construction that was near seamless in its design. He thought of every detail, from its rough, rigid texture to the very knots within its grain, and it was only then that the Aether started to move. The beginnings of the circle started to form, but Helbram knew that he had to push further.

He constructed the chest’s lid in his mind next, getting every detail down to the iron of its hinges to the rivets that secured the metallic rim on its edges. The circle was almost complete by the time he was done, and with a final effort Helbram imagined the chest’s lock; the heft of its weight, a key that was the size of his palm, and even the rust that would overtake it with time. He sealed the lock in his mind, producing a loud, ethereal click that only he could hear. With that sound, the outline of a chest formed at the center of the circle. The spell was complete, and its form remained stable within his hand. It took what might as well have been an eternity, but he allowed himself a smile. This time it would work.

It had to.

Spell in hand, he reached for the claymore. His fingers wrapped around the handle and he pressed his palm against the leather grip, letting the spell flow into the sword. It pulsed through the weapon, trailing down the blade in a streak of light that disappeared into the dirt as it reached its tip. For a while, nothing happened, and he thought that the spell might have taken h-

Force exploded from the sword’s handle, kicking back Helbram’s hand with enough strength that it pulled him into a stagger. Heat flared in his fingers, followed by a slow, crawling pain that seared its way up his arm and into his elbow. Numbness trailed after it, leaving behind nothing but the uncontrollable shake that vibrated from his fingers to his shoulder. Helbram choked back the groan forming at his lips and fell to his knees. He clenched his hand into a fist, but still the shaking wouldn’t stop. He repeated the action again and again, but the failure of the spell continued to torment him. Anger finally overtook him and drove his fist into the ground. A dull ache cut through his numbness as his fingers stilled. Silence settled over his shoulders, slowly enveloping him as he lost himself in thought.

He formed the spell correctly, kept its shape, and maintained his focus. He had done everything right, everything that he was supposed to, just like he always did.

Then why am I here?

Chapter Nine

Day bled into the air, burning away the shadows of night as sunlight peeked through small holes in the canopy above. It’s rays dotted the forest floor in bespeckled patterns that danced from the occasional shifting of leaves, the only signs of life that lay within their newfound prison. The barrier retained its shimmering form, but in the daylight it turned to glass rather than showcasing the flowing energies it held in the dark. Helbram sat at the edge of the clearing, staring at everything and nothing as time passed, his trance only broken as he heard movement from the wagon.

He looked past the claymore still in the ground and spotted Leaf hopping from the vehicle. The archer’s eyes immediately started to glance around the moment his feet touched the dirt, and they paused on the sword before he looked towards Helbram. The warrior gave him a wave but said nothing. Jahora followed after Leaf a moment later, trying, and failing, to stifle a yawn as she staggered out of the wagon. The Mage rubbed her face and smacked her lips, still clearly in a stupor as she looked around with half lidded eyes.

Leaf frowned as he evaluated Jahora’s condition, but he shrugged and walked towards Helbram.

“I take it all is well and good then?” he said as he approached, “Can’t say I envied your position.” He clicked his teeth. “This damned forest is quieter than an orphan’s funeral.”

Helbram looked up at Leaf, his incredulity clear even from behind his visor.

The archer responded to it with a grin. “What? I figured I should say somethin’ that’d wake you up.” He looked back at the claymore. “And it looks that even our knight needed a distraction durin’ watch.”

“I am no-”

“Knight, yes yes I know.” Leaf gave a dismissive wave. “But you’re armored, handy with a sword, and speak like you have a stick up your arse.” He crossed his arms. “I’m goin’ to call a spade a spade, and you can’t stop me.”

Helbram sighed. “I suppose not. Did you get enough rest?”

“Aye, though I think our wee friend could do with a bit more.” Leaf cast Jahora a sidelong glance.

She yawned in response. “It will never be enough.” She stretched and let out a groan. “Mornings will forever be the subject of my ire.”

“Yours and many others,” Helbram said, “but idle hands will not do us much good at the moment, we need a plan.”

Leaf nodded. “Has our ser come up with anythin’ in the hours of his watch?”

“Yes.” Helbram stood up. “You fetch me a set of Runic Plate and I storm the lot; weathering spell, steel, and arrow as I cleave their ranks into dust.”

Leaf scratched his nose. “Best I can do is a good piss in the wind.”

Helbram snorted and put a hand on the archer’s shoulder. “Well, so long as you keep it behind us and ahead of the enemy, we should have this mess sorted out by the evening.”

Leaf frowned. “What a shame, here I’d thought it’d be more of a noon affair.”

“If only.”

The three gathered at the wagon. Jahora had fetched them rations from their supplies, but they remained relatively untouched as the group was lost in thought.

“There are really only two options available to us at the moment,” Helbram finally said. “We either remain in place and hope for the situation to resolve itself, or we take a more active role in freeing ourselves from this predicament.”

“The former makes more sense.” Jahora took a bite of dried fruit. “We’ve no idea how large the bandit’s forces are, and, frankly, a group of three isn’t going to make much of a meaningful dent regardless.”

Leaf’s jaw rolled as he chewed on a dried piece of meat. “She brings up a good point and, as you said, they are more organized than your typical band of thieves. If we go up against that kind of force, we’d just be askin’ to get gutted.”

“Both of you are not wrong,” Helbram admitted, “But we also have to consider the possibility that help may not arrive. The Freemarks are the fringes of the world and we are on the outskirts of that. Even if the towns are growing, their military might is either not keeping pace or their hands are already full dealing with other problems. Silverglen is the closest settlement at a day's travel away and even if they managed to muster some form of fighting force…” He motioned to the barrier. “Unless they happen to have a spellcaster of immense power, I cannot see them pushing past the shield.”

“That is true,” Jahora said, “how Marlin even got such a spell up and running is beyond me as well…” She rubbed her chin for a moment, then frowned.

“What is it?” Leaf asked.

“Well, if he is on the side of the bandits, then his task of going around and rounding up men was nothing more than to gather them all in one place…”

“...and hand them over on a silver platter,” Leaf spat, “the bastard.”

“Among other things, yes,” Helbram said, “But I noticed that most of the caravan was captured rather than killed last night. Eliminating possible threats is a deft move, but if they happened to need manpower for something, gathering everyone would kill two birds with one stone.”

“But what could they need the numbers for?” Jahora asked, “Perhaps they found something within Goldshire’s mines?”

“That is a possibility, and that would explain the need for the barrier.”

“To keep people out, and in,” Leaf said.

“Exactly.” Helbram wrapped up the remains of his ration. “Regardless, there is little that we can gain from speculation, but and making a decision based on nothing may result in more mistakes in the end. We need information.”

Jahora fluttered her lips, but nodded.

“Then that settles it.” Leaf stood up. “But if we’re goin’ to be traipsing about in the woods - ones that are quieter than a child that’s just done some mischief - you won’t be doin’ it in your armor.” He knocked on Helbram’s breastplate.

The warrior frowned, but, upon noticing how the ring of his armor echoed through the clearing, found a counter argument nowhere in reach.

“Fine,” he finally said, “then let us get this over with, shall we?”

***

They navigated the silence as much as they did the forest as they made their way through the trees. Leaf served as their guide, often trekking ahead to shift aside branches and the brush so that Helbram and Jahora could pass through them with minimal sound. The archer would also make a habit of carving marks near the roots of trees as they made their way. Some were in the shape of an arrow, but oftentimes he would instead carve circles, squares, and triangles in no pattern that Helbram could at first discern. There would even be moments where Leaf would venture off on his own, leaving further markings off of their path in a random distribution. His bow was looped around his torso, and when he was not busy manipulating the foliage, his hands were never too far from it and the quiver at his side.

Jahora was in the middle of their formation. Her small size guaranteed that she had minimal impact on disturbing the forest floor with her steps, and she was able to maneuver under most obstacles with ease, especially with Leaf’s assistance. As opposed to a bow, a notebook was in the Mage’s hand as they walked, pulled from where it was strapped on her hip next to her pouch of crystal dust. The book was flipped open and her pencil glided across its pages, copying the marks that Leaf was carving into the trees. She drew lines between specific symbols, forming the semblance of a path that Helbram inferred would lead them back to their hidden glade. There was little to her expression beyond her focus, but whenever Helbram stepped close enough to the Mage, he could feel the hum of Aether gathered around her, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

Helbram remained at the rear, keeping his attention around them with his Ether bolstered hearing. Even under the scrutiny of his enhanced sensitivity, Leaf still made little noise as he traversed the trees. Part of it Helbram attributed to his natural elven agility, but he could see that the archer moved more from a practiced precision rather than any blood-given grace. It was far ahead of his own traversal abilities, for though they were adequate for most occasions, he couldn’t help but wince at how much noise his armor would have made from all the sticks and foliage that smacked against him. The rattle of his sword against the twigs didn’t help either. 

Still, as quiet as they were, Helbram could not help but feel exposed as they walked. He didn’t live in his armor, but the weight of his chainmail and breastplate hanging from his shoulders had been a comfort in their current predicament. The thick, long sleeved cloth shirt he wore deflected most of the brush as they sifted through it, but whenever he felt a stick stab him through the fabric, he couldn’t help but think about how easily both sword and arrow could now poke him full of holes. An instance of a branch slapping him across the face gave him both a stinging red mark on his cheek and a severe want of his helmet back, but Helbram grit his teeth and pressed on.

Their travels eventually took them back to the main road, but rather than step out into the open air of the path they elected to stick to the trees. They moved towards the barrier first, curious to see if anything lay near the shield on the road. It didn’t take much time, and when they arrived, they saw nothing. With the go ahead from Helbram’s surveillance, Leaf braved exposure and hopped onto the road while the other two kept watch, his gaze scanning the packed dirt.

“Footprints,” Leaf said, “wagon trails and hoofprints as well. Looks like they took the caravan with them.” He peered beyond the barrier. “And they were pretty damned thorough as well.”

Helbram frowned. “Unfortunate, but expected, I suppose. We had best make way to town then.”

He looked up, focusing on the pillar of energy that still stabbed into the sky. In the night, its bright light distracted from the mountain that sat behind it, but in daylight the reverse was true. As the rays of the sun splashed across its bare stone, the mountain took on a gilded appearance, shining brighter than the magic that flared in front of it. From his perspective, its peak was only an inch or two shorter than the beam of energy, smaller than most of the mountains in the Spine, but towering enough to remain visible for leagues around. 

Jahora followed Helbram’s gaze. “Well, given that the beam is right in front of the Golden Peak, we can infer that whatever is making the barrier is most likely within Goldshire itself.”

“Indeed,” Helbram agreed. “We should head to it, if only to see what other delights await us in town.” He looked over to Leaf and signaled him to drop back into the forest. When they were all together, they followed the road while sticking to the brush, keeping their methodical pace. 

While Leaf’s eyes were focused on carving out a clear path for them to follow, Helbram’s ears remained occupied in painting a broader picture around them. Beyond their own movements through the foliage, there was little else that sifted through the forest underbrush. The occasional rattling of branches or shrubs shook the silence over them, but such instances were few and far between. The foulness of death never wrinkled his nose, but the lack of almost any noise at points told him that something had given the local fauna reasons to stay hidden. Given the large pillar of light, and how it almost drank of his essence the previous evening, he surmised that was the most likely reason, but paranoia was an uncontrollable impulse at times, and he could not help but feel that something else could be intimidating the wildlife into silence.

He could only hope that he was wrong.

His thoughts were interrupted by a distant sound, that of boots crunching dirt underfoot.

“Movement,” he whispered to the group, signaling all of them to hide behind separate trees as the footsteps drew closer. 

As they nestled into their hiding spots, a group of four walked into clear view on the road. All wore pieces of mismatched armor that did not look fitted for any of their frames, and the weapons that rested in their hands held a worn, weathered look to them. In addition to that, Helbram noted the red strip of cloth that was wrapped around each of their arms.

An orc marched at the head of the formation, his armor bearing more steel and riveted pieces compared to the ones that followed after him. His hair was also hidden by a helmet crafted from leather and metal, but still kept his disgruntled face exposed as he scanned the trees. The way that his greataxe was readied to strike at anything that moved told Helbram that he was the most focused of the group. His companions behind him were more relaxed in both their observations and pace.

The smallest of the group, a dwarf with a scraggly beard and an uneven cut to his short hair, yawned as he let the hand holding his crossbow fall to his side.

“What’s the point of this anyways?” he asked, “The bloody barrier is up, no one’s gonna be around to mess with us.”

“So you think,” the orc said, “but a few slipped away last night, the commander wants to be sure they’re not here.”

Another of the group, a lanky man protected by mostly leathers and possessing a weasley looking face, gave a flippant shrug. “Like that’s gonna make any difference.” He waved his club in front of him and snickered. “Most of those ‘adventurers’ last night filled their pants with shite when we gave ‘em a taste of this.”

“And some of them took a lot of men to bring down,” the orc grunted, “has the commander led us astray so far?”

The last of the group, a stocky man with a boar-like face, flicked a spec of dirt out of his nails with his dagger. “He hasn’t, and we could always do with a few more hands in the mine.”

The bandits continued to talk as they walked down the road, but most of their conversation was unintelligible as they got further away from Helbram and the others. When he could no longer hear any footsteps nearby, he signaled them all to gather together.

“Commander?” Helbram remarked as Jahora and Leaf joined him, “An odd title for a bandit.”

“Maybe they’re a former soldier,” Leaf guessed.

“Perhaps, it would explain their organization to some degree.”

“We also know what they’re using the ones they captured for,” Jahora said, “looks like our guess of finding something in the mines was correct, though I couldn’t tell you what it could be.”

“We may be finding out soon enough,” Helbram said.

They continued to stay hidden as they followed the road, stopping whenever a patrol passed them by. Most of the bandits stayed on the main road, but a few wandered off into the forest. There was an instance where a group almost spotted Leaf as they took a random turn into the trees, but the archer remained silent once he slipped around the trunk of his hiding spot, barely dodging their notice. Helbram counted his blessings after that happened; he would have been decided less deft in that same scenario. They took a much more careful, and slower pace after that, but in time they eventually arrived at Goldshire undetected.

The town’s border was the first thing that greeted them, a wall that was at least two stories tall and mostly comprised of logs embedded into the ground, long chopped from the woods that were only a stone’s throw away from its boundaries. However, there were signs of the construct’s refinement, places where wood had been replaced by sections of stone with an accent of metal along their edges. This was most evident with the town’s gate, which was a massive arch of stone that bordered a door crafted by oak and iron. It was something that Helbram would have normally associated with a fortress rather than a mining town, but there was little opportunity for him to evaluate the structure up close. Four bandits stood guard outside of the gate, and even from the ground he could see that there were multiple men that patrolled the top of the wall.

Leaf led them along the town’s border and towards a raised portion of the terrain. Helbram hoped it would continue to rise and meet with the base of the mountain, but it only amounted to an elevated position that allowed them to see over the walls. The trees remained thick around them, granting them cover as they observed the town proper.

Most of the village’s buildings were constructed from wood, but unlike Silverglen, Goldshire had reinforced most of them with stone. They were designed in uniform, blocky shapes with flat roofs, and the majority of the structures were two stories tall. Those that hadn’t reached such heights instead held the beginnings of another story being built on top of them. It was clear that the town was planning to expand vertically rather than horizontally. This rigid design even applied to Goldshire’s streets, which looked like they were mapped from someone throwing a net flat against the ground and following the threads as their guide. The town was the largest that Helbram had seen within the Freemarks in quite some time, and was already twice the size of Silverglen, stretching out enough to nestle right up against the Golden Peak. 

As Helbram peered towards the mountain, he caught sight of a few buildings that were built along the mountainside, accompanied by the skeletons of others right next to them. Not so far from these buildings was the pillar of light, and, given its proximity to the mountain, its source was no doubt near the entrance of the town’s mines. However, their position was not enough to spot what said source actually was.

“Shite, there’s too much cover,” Leaf said. He pulled a spyglass from his satchel and peered through it. “But from what I can see, the streets are mostly empty, aside for some patrols wanderin’ about.”

“Looks like the bandits are keeping everyone within their homes then,” Helbram observed, “I would say martial law, but that seems ill fitting for this occasion.”

“I can’t imagine many townsfolk would want to wander the streets with bandits about anyhow,” Jahora added, “but it does make you wonder; the brigands can’t have that large of a force, what’s to stop the people from overwhelming them with numbers?”

Leaf lowered his spyglass. “I imagine most people aren’t too keen on dyin’.”

Helbram nodded. “They are most likely hoping that the bandits just take care of their business and leave,” he said in a sympathetic tone, “better to acquiesce to their desires than risk your skin. Regardless, we should see about finding a better position, one with a clear view of the mines.”

“Aye,” Leaf said, “just mind the sentries along the wall and stick to the trees.”

They followed the archer’s advice and followed after him. To their luck, there was enough raised land that they could coast around towards the east of the town, giving them a clear view of the mines. Even in plain sight, it was clear that this was where all the activity in Goldshire had been focused.

Leaf peered through his spyglass again. “Well, that’s certainly where they’ve all decided to hole up. Gods, there are so many of them,” he frowned, then tossed Helbram the telescope. “Take a look for yourself.”

From a distance, it was hard to tell what the bandits were up to. At first, he expected them to be in some form of celebration, gorging themselves on whatever plunder they ripped from Goldshire’s coffers. When he brought the telescope up to his eye, however, he found that he was only half right. Many of the bandits did help themselves to the town’s foodstuffs, but it was not in the raucous manner that he thought he would see. They were too far away for even his Ether enhanced hearing to pick up anything, but even then Helbram could see that they were eating in relative silence as they crowded around tables or huddled together in groups.

Off to the side of the mess area, he spotted many of the band sparring with one another. Their skills were beyond mere brigands, displaying both discipline and practice alike, but, much like their assault on the convoy, there was an overall sloppiness to their movements that did not reach the proficiency of a trained group of soldiers.

Not yet, at least.

Those that were not eating or sparring were gathered around the mine’s entrance, which was a gray stone building built right into the side of the Golden Peak. Coincidentally, this building had no roof, which allowed the pillar of Aether within to jut into the sky above. Helbram could make out the outline of the structure at the base of the light, but it was too bright for him to catch any further details. 

He focused back onto the bandits, who stood guard over a line of people that funneled in and out of the building’s large entrance. They marched in parallel with a rail track that was embedded into the ground, dragging minecarts full of stone out of the buildings and into the mine’s open area, which was nearly full of piles of rocks. Most of the people in the line wore the simple garb of villagers, but he also recognized a few faces amongst them as some of the younger troops with the caravan. Fear was fresh in their eyes, standing in stark contrast to the jaded expressions of the townsfolk.

Helbram clenched his jaw, but continued with his observations. “That is certainly a lot…”

“Aye,” Leaf said, “from a guess I’d say they have more than a hundred, and I don’t know what we’re going to do against that number.”

“They are also moving quite a significant amount of stone… whatever it is that they have found must be quite large if they need to gut the mountain to this degree.”

Jahora tapped Helbram’s shoulder. When he turned to face the Mage, he saw a curious look in her eyes, ones that now glowed with a purple light under the forest’s shade. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

Helbram handed her the spyglass and swapped positions with the Mage. She pointed it towards the piles of stones first, then towards the minecarts.

“That’s strange,” she said, “they look just like ordinary stones, but they are practically bleeding Aether… hold on.”

She took off, keeping to cover, but tripping a few times as she kept the spyglass fixed to her eye. Helbram and Leaf shared a confused look, but followed after Jahora until she stopped a good amount of paces away. When Helbram followed her line of sight, he saw that she was examining the pillar of light.

“Gods, it’s almost blinding to look at,” the Mage said with a strained voice. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. “But I think I know what the source of that magic is.” She lowered the telescope and blinked her eyes rapidly. “I should’ve known earlier… there’s only one thing the Freemarks that could be channeling that amount of power.”

“And that would be?” Leaf asked.

“A Ruhian artifact,” Jahora answered, “I only managed to discern bits of their runes on the slivers I could see of the device, but it is unmistakable.”

Helbram frowned; he had expected it was going to be something like that, but hearing it confirmed still put him in a sour mood. A large fighting force was enough of a threat, but ancient technology from a dead civilization really solidified the odds against them.

“I can only imagine they know how to use such a device thanks to Marlin.” Helbram considered the existence of another spellcaster, but did not wish to sink his spirits any further for the time being. “While that mystery is resolved, we can hardly do anything about it at the moment, can you infer anything more from the stones?”

Jahora rubbed her chin. “From what I can tell, the Aether from the rocks and the artifact are one and the same. It is not unusual for the environment to be saturated in energy from the effects of Ruhian technology, but the amount from these stones suggests that they’ve been soaking in power for quite some time.”

“Well, the Ruhians were bleedin’ old, only the Gods could tell us how long it's been sitting there before a prick with a combover decided to turn it on,” Leaf said.

“That’s the thing,” Jahora said, “This sort of saturation would only be possible if the artifact had been running for countless years, yet it was only just activated, which means… well, it could mean many things, really.”

“Options that we will have to discuss at a later time,” Helbram said. “What we can say is that the discovery of a device of that power alone would be enough to encourage others to try and take it in some fashion, but rather than grab it and run they have instead kept mining. That can only suggest that there is more to un-”

The ground quaked, its rumblings powerful enough to shake the trees around them and draw the group’s attention back towards the mine. Light burst from the building’s entrance, accompanied by smoke and debris carried by a wave of force that knocked bandits and villagers alike from their feet. Dust drifted towards the piles of rock, blanketing the area in a haze of dirt. Silence followed, somehow heavier as it settled back over their frames. After a moment, Helbram moved to say something, but as he opened his mouth another flash burst through the scattered dust.

Even without the aid of the spyglass, he could see the piles of stone within the floating dirt start to take on a pale blue hue as they began to shake in place. They exploded after, bursting individually from one another, creating flashes of blue within the cloud of dust as they cracked like thunder with each new explosion. The area was only further obscured as fragments of stone scattered over the mine, embedding themselves into the ground and men alike. 

Cries of pain had no room to be heard, for right after the cascade of explosions the masses of stone around the building burst simultaneously, unleashing torrents of Aether that shattered the ground and kicked equipment clear across the mine. Carts filled with stone were ripped to scrap, their metal fragments slicing through the miners that walked next to them and splashing their blood on the ground. Few of the ones struck by shrapnel survived, and those who were in the even more unfortunate position of being right next to any piles of volatile rock were turned to red mist as Aether and shattered rock ripped them to shreds.

Even from Helbram’s distance the sight brought the sour taste of bile to the back of his throat, but he kept his eyes fixed on what was happening. Out of the corner of his sight, he could see that Jahora and Leaf grimaced and looked away, but as the Mage’s gaze looked past him her eyes went wide.

“The mountain, i-i-its glowing,” she stammered.

The implications stabbed Helbram’s chest with panic and he whipped his head towards the Golden Peak. Relief followed when he saw no light from its stone, followed by confusion.

Jahora shook her head and rubbed her brow. “I’m sorry, it caught me off guard. What I meant to say is that the mountain flashed with Aether momentarily, but it faded right after.”

Leaf sighed in relief. “All Father’s balls, you had me thinkin’ the mountain was about to blow…”

Jahora’s gaze fixed to the ground and her brow furrowed. When the Mage kept silent, a concerned frown returned to Leaf’s face, but he did not press her any further. Helbram left the two to their thoughts and took the spyglass from Jahora’s hands. Steeling himself, he peered back at the chaos below.

A haze of dust still smothered the mine’s open area, but had cleared enough that Helbram could see movement within. He grit his teeth when he saw the bandits helping their own away from any of the explosions’ blast zones, leaving any injured miners in the dirt as blood flowed from where shrapnel had struck them, staining the ground red where they lay. Some were still; vacant, unmoving expressions staring off towards a distance they could no longer look away from. A glint from the mine’s entrance drew Helbram’s attention away, but the sight was still burned into his mind.

The source of the light was a transparent barrier of blue energy that wrapped around the smaller frame of a halfling dressed in clothes far too gaudy for the environment he stood in. The spell dropped, revealing the gaunt face of Marlin, who looked around the area with a mix of irritation and disgust. He whipped out a handkerchief and covered his nose as he walked over the bodies of the fallen, motioning towards a figure that was still obscured by the dust. When they finally emerged, Helbram cursed.

“Shite.”

“What is it?” Leaf asked.

“Quetali.”

“Ah, shite.”

The first thing that struck Helbram was the man’s size. Even from a distance, Helbram knew the quetali would tower over him by a head and a half and that the man’s frame was at least half an arm wider than he was. The muscle packed onto his broad frame only emphasized that point, but that was not the full extent of his imposing features. Two of the man’s four arms were crossed over a bare chest that bled through the haze of dirt with skin of a maroon hue. One of his arms was occupied with brushing dust and debris from his shoulders while another grabbed at a small piece of metal that embedded itself at the top of his forehead. It blended with his crown of horns and left a streak of blood through his long white hair. He expended little effort in pulling the piece of metal from his head and flicked the scrap to the side. The wound bled a bright red aura as it closed in a matter of seconds, leaving no trace of its previous existence. He wore a simple pair of trousers, but had four swords strapped to his waist, all easily within reach of his hands.

Marlin was saying something to the quetali, but he ignored the halfling and cast his yellow eyes around him, examining the destruction with an impassive stare. A moment later, he shouted something Helbram couldn’t make out, but as the quetali spoke the bandits obeyed immediately.

“Two things,” Helbram said, “It appears that he is their commander, and it is most likely that he is also their Awoken.”

Leaf made a strangled sound, but held his hand out. “Let me see.”

Helbram tossed him the spyglass.

“Matron’s fuckin’ arse he’s massive,” Leaf said. “What the hells is one of them doing outside the Broken Lands?”

“I could not tell you,” Helbram said, “but we should return to camp… there is much to discuss.”

***

“So, let’s take proper stock of the situation,” Leaf said as he paced around the clearing. His voice was controlled and his steps were light, but they lifted with a certain spring that told Helbram that the archer was unable to sit still. 

He couldn’t blame him, he was on the verge of doing just the same.

“We have a legion of bandits led by a quetali,” Leaf held up one finger and counted up as he spoke. “Occupyin’ a town more protected than nether regions of Melissandra’s Maidens, usin’ our previous companions to mine some Ruhian bullshite more temperamental than a hog in heat.”

“That is about the right of it,” Helbram said.

Leaf sat on the dirt, but tapped his lap rapidly. “So, our plan is to stay put, right? There’s nothin’ we can do against somethin’ like that.”

No matter what impulse told him that he could not ignore the death and destruction that he had seen at the mine, Helbram could only agree with Leaf. He was about to say that, but noticed that Jahora was still silent.

“What is wrong?” he asked the Mage.

“I’m not too sure if sitting still is an option…” Jahora’s brow was furrowed in thought.

“What do you mean?”

She cleared her throat, “As you know, I saw the mountain itself start to glow with Aether right after those explosions. It was a flood of power the likes of which I’ve never seen. It may have faded soon after, but that glow was very much like the ones the stones had before they burst. It may be overthinking things, but if that glow persists…”

“Oh, come on!” Leaf snapped, “Do you honestly believe that a bloody mountain is goin’ to blow?!”

When he finished, the ground began to tremble, shaking any loose leaves from the trees and sending a surge of panic through the once quiet wildlife. Small creatures fled from their hiding spots in a blind dash, and many struck the barrier before skittering out of sight. It was the most alive the forest had been since the shield was summoned, but Helbram only felt dread at the sight. The group shared a reluctant look between one another and turned their gazes through the canopy and at the Golden Peak. The mountain glared with a pale blue light, making the pillar of magic next to it feel like a spark in comparison. The glow soon vanished, but the tremors that accompanied it took longer to fade as they all sat in silence.

Leaf turned his head to the sky and let loose a long, drawn-out groan. He got to his feet and joined with Helbram and Jahora, resignation clear on his face.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Chapter Ten

The week following their surveillance of Goldshire signaled a shift in their camp’s purpose. Much of the supplies within the wagon had been taken out and spread around the vehicle rather than leaving them cramped within its confines. Any of the barrels or crates containing rations remained near the carriage, but the ones that were filled with ropes and pitons had been emptied out a few paces away and flipped to form three makeshift tables, one for each member of the party.

Leaf placed his near the edge of the clearing that faced inwards towards the forest. Within the span of an hour, various camping tools, all pulled from his satchel, were littered across its surface. They jumbled with bundles of knotted rope and broken sticks, all seasoned by shavings of wood, courtesy of the archer’s dagger as he chipped away at the twigs in his disposal. Helbram could see no order to any of the chaos, but Leaf never seemed to forget where he placed something in the ever-growing mess of his station.

In complete contrast, Jahora had positioned her table near the barrier and painted the picture of order across its surface. Her pouch of crystal dust was placed in one of its corners, slightly open so that the Mage would have easy access to its contents. At the opposite end was her notebook, which was weathered enough to lay flat when opened and was usually flipped to a page of scattered rough sketches and diagrams of glyphs. He could only assume them to be magical formulas of some kind, but he could not discern their purpose. A dagger of her own was also on the table, but rather than Leaf’s broad bladed tool this one held a thinner, more defined point to its tip. It lay next to a small chipping hammer at the side of the crate, leaving the center open for the various arrows that were spread across its surface. One of these arrows had rocks placed along its shaft to hold it in place and had the beginnings of a rune of rigid script carved into its iron head.

Compared to his companions, Helbram’s own station was bare, save for his helmet, which was placed right at its center. Rather than further populating the tabletop with his own belongings, the warrior had instead focused his attention to a part of their camp that was growing more elaborate by the day, one that all of them huddled around as they looked over its contents.

At the center of the clearing, scratched into the once flat dirt, was a map of Goldshire. It started as a rough outline of the town, but repeated trips back to the perimeter allowed them to add more and more detail to the layout, turning general shapes into intricate sketches of the town’s streets along with an estimation of the acres of forest that lay under the barrier. Many of the symbols that Leaf carved into the trees before were also on the map, depicting a pathway back to the camp from the town’s gate. Arrows had been added along the sketched roads, all of which were marked with the numbers one, two, three, or four. They weaved through Goldshire’s streets and even trailed off into the forest from the town’s entrance, where they scratched their paths through the trees. 

To the side of the town was a diagram depicting both the sun and moons trailing across the sky at various stages. They arced in their depictions, demonstrating various times of day depending on their position in the clouds. Numbers were scratched under certain periods, matching the ones accompanying the arrows that flowed through the map’s layout. Right above the diagram was a simple compass, drawn by Leaf to match the one in his possession. At certain angles, Helbram could see yellow light glinting off of the map, signs of the enchantment that Jahora placed over it to preserve its shape. The spell proved to be effective as Helbram tapped a stick on one of the arrows, leaving no traces of its touch.

“To go over the plan again; around noon is when the second shift of patrols starts to take over,” Helbram said, pointing at the number two under one of the suns in the diagram. He then tapped all the arrows with a matching number and motioned them towards the forest. “If we were to go along this path around then…” He moved the stick in a line up through the trees, crossing over the arrows that were marked by the number one, then moved the pointer down across the ones with the number two. “Then we should be able to create the greatest impact.”

“Yes.” Leaf scratched his head. “That’s if we can do what we need to do quickly. This plan of yours isn’t leavin’ much room for mistakes.”

“True,” Helbram agreed, “but we only have one opportunity before they start to tighten their guard, it would be prudent to make the most of it.” He looked to Jahora, who was staring at where Helbram had motioned over. “Are you prepared?”

“As I’ll ever be.” The Mage reached behind her and pulled at the barrel lid strapped to her back. The brass ring and green crystal remained where they were before, but were now accompanied by numerous runes and interconnected circles that were carved into its wooden grain. “The tests worked, but should it stop functioning…”

“Then we shall adapt,” Helbram said, “but right now, the only thing we can do is act.”

He met Jahora and Leaf’s eyes. “If you have any qualms, now is your chance to speak them.”

Neither of them did. Instead, they both set their jaws and gave him a firm nod. 

He let out a breath and steadied himself. “Then let us get to it.”

***

When noon arrived, the group slipped back into the forest. Helbram wore his armor this time, but he and Leaf had navigated through the trees so often through the past week that he was able to get a good feel on how to avoid most of the brush, which kept their advance as quiet as possible when they happened upon the first patrol. Like all the ones that they had surveilled, this group was comprised of four men. Their leader - a roughshod man wielding a greatsword - scanned the area around the patrol, but there was a sluggishness to the motion that told Helbram it was being done more out of boredom than discipline. 

The men behind him were even more lax in their attentiveness, and it was with this that the party was able to slip behind trees within spitting distance of the bandits.

“We’ve been lookin’ fer days!” The halfling at the back of the group said, one who let his bow hang at his side. “There’s nobody in these bleedin’ woods.”

“It’s the commander’s orders,” the leader said, “if you’ve got grief with it, spare me and take it up with him.”

That was enough to lull the smaller man into silence, but instead another of the group spoke up, a stocky man who twirled the club in his hand.

“More like the Mage’s orders,” he spat, “I don’t know why we’ve shacked up with the prick in the first place. Should have gutted him the first chance we got.”

“And miss a payday that’ll make us live like kings?” the last of the group said, a lanky man who kept a twitchy hand on the shortsword at his waist. “I’ll gladly take a walk through the woods if it means I get to drink and plough myself into an early grave later.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Helbram could see Leaf’s expression shift to one of dull annoyance. The warrior turned to the party and, sharing a nod with them, signaled the attack.

Jahora struck first, gathering a ball of blue Aether in her hands before releasing it as a bolt. It struck the lanky bandit in the head, exploding into force and light. The spell threw the man from his feet and into a tree, leaving him limp against the ground. Leaf loosed an arrow right after, sinking his shot into the stocky bandit’s thigh. Half a scream escaped his lips before Helbram sprinted from cover and drove the edge of his shield into the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

The warrior drew his sword after and turned to the patrol’s leader, who was slow to react to the ambush. Helbram closed the distance between them, flicking his sword into the bandit’s wrist. The blade bit deep, and with a panicked cry the leader dropped his weapon and pulled his hand back. A poor move, for it allowed Helbram to drive his heel into the leader’s knee, filling the air with a sickening crack. Before the cry of pain could follow, the warrior bashed the bandit’s nose with his pommel, sending him to the dirt in silence.

When Helbram turned around, he saw that the patrol's bowman was already taken care of, as the halfling was splayed against a tree, leg bent at an unnatural angle and his jaw hanging loosely as he stared into nothing with half lidded eyes. Leaf was already set to work, stripping the bandit of his weapons and armor. When he was done, he flipped the bandit over on his back, giving the now half naked thief one more good look. Emotion had left the archer’s eyes, and Helbram could see Leaf’s hand wrap around his dagger for a moment, forearm tensing as he was about to draw it. Helbram felt a pressure build within him then, hoping the archer would not follow what his mind was clearly telling him to do.

To his relief, Leaf dropped his hand and tossed the bandit’s belongings to Jahora. He then went about stripping the other unconscious men of their gear. Helbram joined him in the effort, but kept an eye on the Mage as she pulled the barrel lid from her back. She placed it flat against the ground and twisted the brass ring, triggering a brief flash of green light. However, rather than create any effect of air like it did before, the light instead flowed into the various runes carved into the lid, shifting its color from green to blue. 

When the light filled the carvings, Jahora grabbed the bow and held it over the lid. The light wrapped around the weapon, traveling down its length until it was fully coated in a blue glow. When no other details could be seen, Jahora let go, allowing  the light, and in turn, the weapon, to condense into a small orb. It lingered in the air for an instant before it fell down like a drop of water, sinking into the magical device below it and leaving no trace of its presence. 

The Mage repeated this process with the armor, examining each piece closely as they were absorbed into the lid. She then set about adding the items that Helbram and Leaf passed to her when they stripped the rest of the bandits bare, all except the club, which Helbram strapped to his side. In their haste, the process only took a few minutes.

“Is it holding?” Helbram asked Jahora.

She strapped the magical device to her back. “Yes, it feels slightly heavier than before, but that is normal.” She beamed. “Fine work, if I do say so myself.”

Helbram smirked. “Indeed, are you ready to put it further to the test?”

She nodded and Helbram then signaled for the group to move out, their work that day had only just begun.

They continued their charge through the forest, intercepting the bandit patrols that were on their way back to Goldshire. The week they had spent memorizing the layout of the woods allowed them to slip through it with both efficiency and speed, letting them hit each group well before they were going to cross over with the day’s second shift. With a combination of Leaf’s attentiveness and Helbram’s enhanced hearing, they were able to approach most of the bandits undetected, allowing them to strike and dispatch them in a matter of seconds. The final group of their initial charge did hear them approaching, but that made little difference when Helbram barreled into them, distracting them enough for Leaf and Jahora to knock them unconscious.

When Helbram’s newly found club cracked against the side of the last bandit’s head, the first phase of their charge was done. In reality, most of their time was spent stripping the thieves themselves. After that, they made sure that their equipment was being absorbed into Jahora’s makeshift magical device. Helbram lifted the barrel lid after the last of the equipment had been stowed, finding it to weigh around twice its initial weight. Heavy, but not cumbersome.

It was only after the dust settled that he felt the lead settling into his legs and the heave of his chest. To his relief, no ache from any wounds had accompanied the fatigue that encroached upon his consciousness. His companions showed a similar weariness, but determination was clear in their guises. After they all took a minute to catch their breath, they continued with the second part of their charge.

Much like the first, the party sifted through the trees in pre-plotted paths, though their approach was done more with speed in mind rather than stealth. The first of the second shift’s patrols caught sight of Helbram approaching, but his armor and shield absorbed any blow and deflected any arrow or bolt that was sent his way. Leaf and Jahora remained unseen, which led to a quick dispatching of the bandits, regardless of the blemished ambush. 

If anything, that method proved to be faster, and the party shifted to a strategy of letting Helbram charge in and draw as much attention as possible. This allowed the Mage and archer to better cripple the bandits with spells and arrows that wounded their arms and legs. By the time that the second phase of the charge was done, the sun had only shifted slightly past the point of noon. They ripped the armor and weapons from the last of the second shift’s patrols and stowed them away in the barrel lid, which was now in Helbram’s possession. After it started to get too heavy for Jahora, he offered to take the burden instead. The straps attached to it dug into his shoulders as the device pulled him down with its weight, but with his build he didn’t find it too cumbersome.

The heaviness to his legs and his now bated breath told a different story.

The rush of battle and purpose carried the party through the tail end of their charge, but as their objective was complete it left behind a fire in his lungs and a lightness to his head. Combined with the weight he felt in his limbs, he felt as if he was both sinking and floating at the same time, which brought a sour taste to his mouth the longer that he stood up.

“I… need… a moment,” Helbram said as he plopped down next to a tree.

“Likewise,” Leaf agreed, “if… we went… ah fuck it, I’m tired.”

Jahora said nothing and settled for laying flat against the ground with a pronounced grunt. The party was silent for the few minutes that it took them to recover, but all the while Helbram kept an eye on the bandits, making sure they did not emerge from their impromptu slumber. During his rest he took account of the time and thought back to the map, visualizing the rest of the patrols.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“Don’t,” Leaf growled.

“We make one final charge.”

“What did I just say?!”

“Hear me out.” Helbram stood up. “The bandits are going to get suspicious the moment that they realize that the first shift has not returned. Logic would dictate that they would send out men to search for them, or to at least get in contact with the second shift. It may not be as large as the past couple of groups, but we could thin their numbers even more.”

“Or get us caught up in a mess waitin’ to happen.” Leaf rolled his neck. “If we kick the hornet’s nest too hard then we’re bound to summon a bigger swarm, which means our camp is more likely to get spotted.”

“And that is where I rely upon you for aid,” Helbram said.

The archer quirked an eyebrow.

“Given our speed in getting this task done, I am estimating that we have about an hour and a half before they would think to send anyone else out.” He made an uncertain gesture. “Though it would be more prudent to operate under the assumption that it could take an hour instead… regardless, in that time we could make our way to a portion of the forest at the opposite end of our hideaway. When we get there, we could set up a false camp, something that would imply that was where the assault was organized.”

“Makin’ them focus in that area when they search… I don’t like it when you make sense,” Leaf grumbled when he stood up, “means more work.”

“I shall buy you an ale when this is all over.”

“An ale? You’ll be owin’ a whole damned cask by the time we’re done.”

Helbram chuckled and looked at Jahora, who also got up from her resting position. “Are you ok with this plan?”

“I’m not the one having to carry the lid, so it’s fine by me.” She thumped her chest. “Though this would be far more appealing were Leaf to carry me on his shoulders.”

The archer gave her a blank look and slowly blinked.

“On the way back then,” she said, “it would let us return to camp faster.”

Leaf sighed. “Let’s just get this shite over with.”

Chapter Eleven

It was late into the afternoon by the time that they finally returned to camp. The lid on Helbram’s back was almost four times its natural weight now, its straps biting further into his shoulders. That, mixed with the sweat that he could feel under his clothes, lent itself to a friction that rubbed the flesh around his collar bone raw.

It created a burning sensation that somehow overpowered the exhaustion that pulled every part of him downward, and when they were clear into their hidden glade, he was quick to remove the lid from his back and let it fall. It dug into the dirt with its weight, kicking up a clump of earth as it flattened itself with an unnaturally loud thud. He followed after it, collapsing next to his table with an exasperated groan.

“Don’t you bloody complain,” Leaf said as he walked into the clearing, “this was your idea.”

Jahora sat atop his shoulders, a triumphant expression on her face as the archer plodded forward. Somehow sensing the Mage’s smug air, Leaf pushed her off of him. The Mage caught herself on the ground, but threw him an annoyed glare, getting only a blank look from Leaf in return as he drew a drink from his canteen.

Helbram sat up and pulled his helmet from his head. He placed it on top of his table and slicked his hair back. Its length was now clearly poking into his ears, and the added moisture from his sweat only irritated him even more. He gathered himself with a deep breath and released the building frustration as a sigh.

“I do not suppose you would happen to know a cantrip for cleanliness, would you?” he asked the Mage.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Jahora said with a tired smile. She walked up to him and flicked her wrist, summoning a pulse of deep blue Aether that washed over Helbram. For a brief moment, he felt the sweat on his body freeze. Not in the way that winter would have done it, but rather a stillness that covered all of his being. It was uncomfortable, but before he said anything the Mage snapped her fingers, generating a blast of green light that brushed through him rather than around him. When it passed, the stillness was gone, and Helbram could no longer feel the filth of today’s exertions across his skin and matting his hair. Despite that, his fatigue remained the same.

“It’s not as refreshing as a bath,” Jahora admitted, “but it’ll do for now.”

“That it will,” Helbram said with a smile, “Thank you.”

“What about me?” Leaf asked, giving the Mage an expectant look.

She fluttered her lips at him, but walked up to the archer and repeated the spell. He whistled after it took effect and plopped against the ground right after, giving Jahora an approving nod as he rested against his workstation.

She snorted and cast the cantrip a final time over herself, visibly deflating after its effects took hold. “And with that, I’m spent.”

“Aye,” Leaf said, “If my stomach wasn’t cryin’ for food I’d be keen on passin’ out for the rest of the day.”

“Well, before we eat, shall we take a look at today’s spoils?” Helbram asked.

He pushed himself from the dirt and walked over to the lid. With a grunt, he lifted the device and pointed its face ahead of him before turning the brass ring at its center. When the last of its clicks sounded, pale blue light poured from its surface. Orbs of that same color, no bigger than marbles, flowed out and scattered across the ground, resting against the dirt for a moment before they started to expand. There was no organization to the bandit’s weapons and armor as they revealed themselves, but as far as Helbram was aware, they had not missed a single piece of their gear.

Ten patrols fell victim to the party’s actions, four from each shift that they had struck and the final two from the search parties that were sent after. That left them with a mix of axes, bows, clubs, short swords, and shields that could arm forty men. They appeared alongside the scraps that the bandits claimed to call armor. Helbram wasn’t sure how much protection the rags would provide, but it would be better than nothing for their future plans. 

In addition to that, the party secured two cylindrical objects from the groups sent out to search for the absent patrols. They were made of wood that possessed a dark brown grain and, much like their own magical device, had runes and glyphs carved across its surface in both flowing and rigid looking script. They were of a different pattern than Jahora’s, leaving their function unknown. The bottom third of the cylinder was separated by a thin groove. From its looseness, Helbram inferred that it could be turned. He didn’t dare do so within camp, but he felt like he had seen something similar to the object in the past.

“Quite the hefty haul,” Leaf said as he overlooked the gear, “All of it is a bit worn, but usable.” He frowned as he picked up one of the bandits’ bows. “They’re shite with keepin’ their bows in shape.”

“Do you think you can do some general maintenance on them?” Helbram asked, “I should be able to take care of the other arms, but you are clearly more experienced with bows.”

“Aye, I’d rather toss these things into a fire and spare them any further wear, but I’ll see what I can do,” the archer said.

“Then I shall get to work on another storage device,” Jahora said, “Perhaps two, just in case.”

Helbram passed her the two cylinders, “Could you evaluate these first? I may have an inkling of what they could be used for, but I would confirm it before any further action.”

Jahora examined the objects and quirked up the side of her mouth, “Hmmm, the carvings leave a lot to be desired, but I should be able to crack their purpose tonight.”

“But first, dinner,” Leaf said in a ravenous tone, “there’s a biscuit in that crate just waiting to bring a thirst to my lips.”

Helbram felt his stomach rumble as the archer spoke, “Right, I think I shall help myself to extra today, I think we have earned it.”

“I’ll take part in more fruit,” Jahora said with a satisfied nod, “you boys can sort out the rest of the ration.”

They ate in silence, the satisfaction of the day’s success somehow making the biscuits not so dry, the jerky more tender, and the fruit all the sweeter. Anticipation of future plans injected itself into Helbram’s thoughts, bringing a rise in apprehension, but for that moment, he chose to ignore it and instead basked in the small victory of that day. He embraced the warmth that was forming in his chest, a comfort from the dimming flame that kept pushing him forward.

It was a feeling that he had not felt in a long, long time.

Night fell by the time that the party felt rested enough to continue their work. The clear skies above allowed moon and starlight to pour into the glade, returning it to the serene visage it held when they first discovered it. Under such an atmosphere, the party remained productive in their tasks. Helbram’s table was now covered in weapons and armor as he set about tightening most of their loose fittings as best as he could. He only had the small tools in his rucksack to work with -ones that he used for his own maintenance- but he managed to restore the gear he worked with to respectable status.

Leaf carved away at the branches that splayed across his table, his hands having a mind of their own as he looked over to Jahora. “Have you found anythin’ out?”

The Mage shook her head. “Not yet.” She rubbed her lip and ran a hand over the cylinder on her table. The purple in her irises was glowing as her eyes narrowed, and she scratched something down in her notebook. “Runic Script is quite troublesome to decipher when it’s outside typical Standard structure…”

“Runic Script? The hells is that?” Leaf asked.

Jahora scribbled into her pages, “Consider it a language… well, not a ‘language’ in the traditional sense. You cannot hold a conversation in it; in fact, there is not a phonetic component to it at all. It is a centralized method of which to visualize purpose and intention. Typically, with people being people, intent is not expressed in a universal way.” She spun the cylinder around and continued. “Which can make teaching and developing magic quite a pain if everyone has a different picture or methodology in their head.”

“Indeed,” Helbram said, “it was not until the scholars of Orelia developed Standard that modern magic started to take form.”

Jahora nodded. “Though it is not the only form of Runic Script out there. Standard may be popular amongst the scholarly types due its simple yet flexible structure, but Clerics and other pious folk utilize Orthodox as their script of choice to divine powers from the Gods they worship. Contractors are more likely to write agreements with their patrons in Free Script, which has a way of being… looser in its intent.”

“Ruhia and Saputa had their own variations of it as well,” Helbram added, “But since their fall, what intent they were trying to translate was lost. Until recently, of course.”

Jahora looked up from her table and gave him a quizzical look. “You know a surprising amount about this subject.”

“Knowledge retained from schooling,” Helbram said as he adjusted the straps on a ragged leather chest piece, “a rather rigorous one at that…”

“Interesting… but yes, you are correct, though I would say those that are proficient in the runes of the Ancients are few and far between.” She beamed. “I happen to know a smattering of Ruhian, myself.”

Helbram raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? Would it happen to be related to your family’s trade?”

The Mage nodded. “Normally, given how quickly a spell needs to be cast, it is better to focus on using one set of symbols. Artificery, however, has the luxury of time, and as such is able to combine scripts to its needs.” She scratched her head. “Honestly, it's more used as a protection to keep designs from being easily copied. My family uses their own special cocktail of Standard, Orthodox, and Free Script, but they decided to spice it further with some Ruhian runes as well.”

Helbram’s eyes widened, “I can imagine that such designs would be quite difficult to replicate.”

“Yes, but it's a pain to remember so many different symbols,” Jahora said with a frown, “Doesn’t help that my father changes his mind about what combination to use as frequently as the wind blows…” She shook her head. “But, that’s not related. More to the point, whoever made this device is using a mix of Standard, Free Script, and a dash of Ruhian. Not only that, but it's written in such an odd way too.”

“How so?” Helbram asked.

“Well, think of it as someone writing in Common backwards and also deciding to toss in smatterings of Elvish and Dwarvish at varying lengths. To most, it would be indecipherable, but I’m afraid it has met its match tonight.” With a satisfied grin, she marked down something in her book and tapped the pages. “For I have discerned its purpose.”

The Mage held up the cylinder. “It's a flare, and quite a potent one, I may add.” She pointed to the lower third of the device. “You just unlatch the lock, point it up, give it a good twist, and you have summoned a bright star in the sky.”

Helbram leaned against his table. “I figured as much… they must be using them to signal each other then. Though given that only two of the patrols had them they may only have a limited number. What to do with that information…” He looked over to Leaf, who had fallen silent during their conversation. “You alright?”

The archer blinked slowly. “I’m just realizin’ how little I learned from the books I read as a child.”

Helbram smirked. “And here I am, surprised you can read.”

Leaf frowned at him and twirled the stick in his hand. With a flourish, he scratched his response in the dirt.

Piss off.

“Well, would you look at that,” Jahora said, “such pretty handwriting.”

Silence hung over them as they examined Leaf’s message, but it was quickly broken by laughter as all of them failed at keeping a straight face.

“Well, my parents wouldn’t let me learn anythin’ else until I knew my letters an’ numbers,” Leaf explained.

“We are similar then,” Helbram said, “My grandfather would not let me pick up a sword until I was ‘properly schooled’ for the day.” He sighed. “My father supported that notion.”

“Given your knowledge, your grandfather must be a scholar,” Jahora said, leaning in with clear interest.

“Yes,” he said, “though his expertise is in stories.”

“Oh, is it now?” Leaf’s ears perked up, “I don’t suppose that you could give us one of these stories then?” He placed his dagger down and took a seat on the ground, resting his back against his table. “I’d say we earned ourselves a break.”

Jahora nodded in agreement and took a seat as well. “No need to worry about safety. The enchantment I placed over the perimeter will alert us if anyone is within hearing distance. So, feel free to spin a tale.”

Helbram snorted, “Fair enough, how about something topical?” He tapped his chin and stood up. “Given that our foes are led by a Quetali, I could tell you of how they came to be, how the Starborne decided to grace this world of ours.”

Chapter Twelve

Helbram crossed his hands behind his back and started to pace. “Thousands of years ago, the Ancients fell in what is called The First Collapse. It is unknown what caused the event, but it left Humanity bereft of the magics developed by the Ruhians and the magitech of the Saputans, regressing them to a more primitive and base state.” Helbram pointed up at the stars. “It was under these conditions that the Starborne fell from the heavens, nestled within a craft forged from otherworldly metal.”

He stomped his heel into the ground. “It struck a land that was already warped and fractured, ripped apart by what we suspect caused The First Collapse. We know it as The Broken Lands, and it was shattered further as the Starborne’s ark sank deep into the earth.”

“Destruction and death followed in its wake, leaving the already bare lands further devoid of life by the time that the vessel opened. From it emerged three races. The Zechanil - creatures of four legs, two arms, no mouth, and tentacles in place of hair - emerged first, scattering across the ruined landscape until they met the races of Men. In its baser state, Humanity fell for the Zechanil’s manipulations, binding themselves into contracts forged by magics not of this star. Wrapped in shackles, Man built the Zechanil’s empire around the fallen ark.”

Helbram stopped and looked off into the forest. “The Ishanti emerged next. Formless at first, they took to mimicking the shapes of Humanity, most notably its women. Except, they were impossibly beautiful, possessing skin of shifting colors under the light, eyes of pure white that shone brighter than the stars, and hair that could glow of that same brilliance. Some slipped into the ranks of the Zechanil, joining them in their subjugation of the lands surrounding their ark, but most ventured past occupied territory, finding more of Man to fall victim to their own bewitching magics. Once again was Humanity coerced into forging an empire not of their own, but those serving the Ishanti did so under the lie of an enchanted love.”

Helbram took the dagger from his waist and twirled it in his hands. “The Quetali emerged last, their appearance much like the one you saw in Goldshire. Large, imposing, four arms, and horns like the Infernals poking through manes of wild hair. Under some previous agreement, most likely the one that allowed them to share the ark in the first place, the Quetali left the Zechanil and Ishanti alone and ventured further into the world. Humanity was once again reduced to prey of otherworldly creatures, but where the other Starborne took advantage of Man’s ignorance or lust, the Quetali instead struck at their weakness.” He walked up to his table and drove his dagger into its surface. “The races native to this star were subjugated under the Quetali’s might, and a third empire was forged by Humanity’s hands, again under the heel of another.”

Leaf frowned. “That sounds bloody dire.”

Helbram nodded. “And it remained that way for a millennium. The Starborne grew to exert their influence across the entirety of The Broken Lands. Humanity was to be their slaves - bound by contract, enchantment, or by an inability to face a foe that possessed a strength beyond comprehension.”

“Well, we did eventually shake off their shackles,” Jahora said, “Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

“Correct,” Helbram said, “but unfortunately, I cannot say that it was entirely due to Man alone. It would be quite the story, would it not? Humanity, oppressed and reaching the limits of an impossibly resilient patience, rising up and tearing down the empires that they were forced to build for others.” His eyes fell to the claymore that was embedded into the ground, left from where he had stabbed it into the earth a week ago.

“Yet, the shackles that bound Man were not ones that could just be simply shaken off,” he continued. “The Starborne were meticulous in how they prevented Humanity’s growth, meaning that whenever a rebellion was attempted, it was done so by beings that could be wiped away with a simple brush of the hand. No, it took the arrival of another being to kindle the fires of liberation.”

Helbram walked up to the sword and pulled it from the dirt. With a flourish, he flicked the blade in front of him.

“The First God, the Martial God.”

Leaf raised an eyebrow. “You’re getting awful fancy there.”

Helbram rested the sword against his shoulder and smirked. “Well, what good is a story without a bit of theatrics?”

“Agreed,” Jahora said with a grin, “Do go on, be as dramatic as you need to be.”

Helbram gave a bow and started to pace back and forth. “None know where The Martial God emerged from, but his arrival was one of thunder and fury.” He ran a palm across the flat of his blade. “Wielding only a single sword, he crushed leagues of the Starborne alone, countering their magics and might with an impossible strength of his own. When combat failed to subdue him, the Zechanil and Ishanti switched to appeasement in an attempt to bind him with contracts and enchantments.” He twirled the claymore and snorted. “Such efforts failed, and instead The Martial God feasted on the spoils of the Zechanil and partook of the pleasures of the Ishanti without a care.”

“The Quetali continued to challenge him, the pride in their strength not allowing them to bow their heads. Such pride led to the deaths of many of their warriors, and in time they were forced to retreat and lick their wounds. The Starborne, each individually shamed, threw aside pride in that moment and gathered together.” Helbram tapped his knuckle against his sword’s handle. “They waged war against a single being, one who broke their armies and shattered their nations, but in the end, their efforts bore fruit.”

“Unable to best him in combat, the Starborne lured The Martial God into the peaks of The Spine. The Quetali distracted him, throwing scores of their own to fall by his blade while the Ishanti and Zechanil blended their magic together for one single purpose: to seal their foe away.” Helbram spun around, facing both Leaf and Jahora. “Reality itself warped and bent in that moment, rippling the heavens with pulses of Aether that could be seen across the world, and with a final clap of thunder, The Martial God was sealed away.”

“What a bunch of schemin’ pricks,” Leaf said.

Helbram chuckled, “I agree, but I at least cannot say that their methods were wholly effective. Regardless of their efforts, by the time that they had accomplished their goal, The Martial God had given them a scar that could not heal. The legions of the Quetali were less than a fourth of their original force, and the same could be said of the Ishanti’s enchantresses and the Zechanil’s sorcerers. Not only that, but it is said that a scheme was planned against the Quetali when the spell was cast, meant to shunt away the warriors along with The Martial God. In the end, that plan failed, and the seeds of animosity were planted amongst the Starborne.”

“Seeds that soon came to harvest as conflict swept over those remaining from The Martial God’s wrath. The Quetali struck the Zechanil first, and in the chaos the Ishanti moved to eliminate both of the other Starborne. It is not known what exactly happened, but as otherworldly magics clashed The Second Collapse came to be. The result banished the Starborne from the world, leaving only Man in the wake of the conflict.”

“Even with their newfound freedom, progress was slow at first. Some would call it plodding as they attempted to move without the shackles that had once bound them. The Starborne had designed their empires for use by them alone, leaving Humanity little to work with in their absence.”

“Bunch of right bastards…” Jahora remarked.

Helbram laughed. “Indeed, but their inability to use what was left behind was not the bane it entirely seemed to be. Man had played a major role in the construction of these impossible empires, and in the process of such arduous tasks they developed the skills that allowed them to quickly form nations of their own.” He pressed his lips thin. “I would like to say that a thousand years of shared oppression built bonds between all the races of Men, but sadly that was not the case. Conflict between them followed, but despite that humanity began to form civilizations of their own.” He swept a hand back to Jahora and Leaf. “Many ventured to lands beyond the oceans, never to be seen for quite some time, but those that kept to the shores ventured westward and formed what we know as The Six Kingdoms.”

Leaf’s eyes widened. “Really? That would mean…”

“That our liberation was not so long ago.” Helbram made an uncertain gesture with his hand. “In the grand scheme of things, at least; the Kingdoms are still centuries old and without Helios to serve as a neutral state to keep them in check, some of them may have fallen by now, but that is a story for another time.” Helbram flourished his claymore again. “For that is not the end of the Starborne’s tale.”

“Humanity, for the most part, left The Broken Lands following the disappearance of their oppressors. Vast enough were the empires of the Starborne, filled with technology and resources that they could not use, that there was little room for Man to find their own footing. Instead, they ventured to far-off lands, settling into six different nations, all lead by a king or queen.”

“Humanity did make sure to break most of what they themselves had built, on the off chance that the Starborne returned.” Helbram rested the tip of his sword against the dirt. “A shrewd move, for they did find themselves back to this plane. Perhaps the enchantments of the Ishanti wore themselves out, or the sorcery of the Zechanil unraveled themselves through the ravages of time… Regardless, the Starborne were back on Ellios’ soil once again, but this time their dynamic had changed.”

Helbram flicked his blade up, pointing it at the sky. “The Quetali had subjugated the Zechanil and Ishanti alike, forging a new force spearheaded by their warriors and led by one they called The King of a Hundred Arms.”

Leaf narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’ seem practical.”

“It was not meant to be literal,” Helbram said with a laugh, “more a measure of his martial might, by Quetali standards, at least. But, as I was saying, it was under The King’s leadership that Humanity was once again set against a powerful foe. This time, however, Man had its chance to get its feet under them. Humanity and the Starborne collided as war reared its ugly head, with the latter finding that their former slaves were much stronger than before.” 

“Not only had they developed their own magics, but the rest of the Gods had arrived at this time, blessing Man with boons aplenty to make their Chosen equal to the greatest of the Quetali’s warriors. Unwilling to be placed under shackles once again, the Kingdoms came together and met the Starborne in the field of battle, keeping them contained within The Broken Lands. Unfortunately, such efforts did not last forever, and in time the Starborne broke through the ranks of Humanity and into the Kingdoms themselves.” 

Helbram’s voice lowered into a somber tone. “All seemed lost, yet in the midst of such despair a hero emerged; one born in a small mountain village nestled in the outskirts of Rodun, one who had scaled The Spine and discovered a crack in now ancient magics, who had met with the powerful being that lay beyond.” Helbram tapped the flat of his blade against his forehead. “Amelia Havardy, Hand of The Martial God.”

“The extent of the knowledge she gleaned from The First God is unknown, but as she took to the field of battle the Starborne were pushed back by her might and skill with the blade. The forces of Man rallied behind her, and together they pushed back the invaders.” Helbram swung his blade in front of him. “In a duel that rent heaven and earth alike, The Hand of the Martial God slew The King of a Hundred Arms. With the felling blow, Amelia pushed and contained the armies of the Starborne within The Broken Lands. Soon after, a treaty was formed between them and the rest of Humanity. They were free to remain in The Broken Lands with the freedom to expand towards territory not yet inhabited by Humanity, and Man themselves could keep to their own lands with their own prerogative to grow.”

Helbram stabbed the claymore back into where it was before. “Such a relationship has been maintained to this day and, while it is rare, animosity has faded enough over the past three centuries that you will see the Starborne amongst Humanity and vice versa.”

“‘Cept we’re getting the shite end of that,” Leaf said with a scowl.

Helbram sighed. “Yes, yes we are.”

“Regardless, I thought that was a fine story,” Jahora said with a smile, “Perhaps it sounds childish, but to know that armies of such a foe were bested in the past makes me believe we can handle the one we must face directly.”

“It is not childish at all,” Helbram remarked, “Though I would like to take some more time to study him a while. Knowing how the man fights is going to be key in coming up with a strategy to best him.”

“Aye, and it’s not like we can continue on attacking patrols like we did today.” Leaf stood back up. “Otherwise, we’re bound to trip over ourselves and get caught.”

“Indeed,” Helbram said, “So, for the time being, we should slow our assaults and study our foe further.” He looked at the rest of the party. “If everyone is in agreement, of course.”

His companions gave him a shared nod.

“Excellent, then we shall start on the morrow.”

***

Helbram held the hope that the day’s successes would keep his dreams peaceful, but it was not meant to be.

When sleep took Helbram that night, he stood in the void once again. Flashes of memories past did not haunt him this time, and the flame was already burning before him. The figure from before returned, its shifting form readying its blade in front of it. Helbram looked at the sword and shield in his hands and clenched his fists, sending tremors through them until he released it all in a breath.

He slipped into a stance and faced the figure. “Let us just get this over with.”

Chapter Thirteen

The bandits’ boots dug into the forest floor, crunching the leaves below them as they marched forward. Their weapons were drawn, postures hunched and primed to leap, leaving them skittish enough that they jumped from even the slightest hint of movement. The one that led them, a dwarf with a scraggly beard tied into the semblance of a braid, licked his lips and kept adjusting his grip on his battleaxe. He scanned the trees, brow furrowing so deeply it sent ridges of skin folding up his forehead.

“Are ye sure you ‘eard somethin’?” he asked, keeping his voice low in an attempt to leave the tension around them undisturbed.

“I’m tellin’ ya, it was movin’ through the brush,” one of his men said, a filthy looking man who had his finger primed on the trigger of his crossbow.

Another of the men, a goblin with green-yellow skin and a shaved head, dropped his shortsword and scowled. “What’re we even afraid of? They didn’ have the stones to kill the others.”

“Oh no, instead they broke their legs and let them crawl back to town as naked as a babe. They’ve been givin’ us the bloody run around for two weeks now, and havin’ that many injured men… it’s embarrasin’,” the dwarf said.

“The commander’s getting right pissed too.” The last of their group, a younger man with a soft looking face but wicked eyes, whirled his club around him with reckless abandon. “If we keep crawlin’ back without any of our gear he might start offin’ people. The man was practically shakin’ with rage when we left.”

The dwarf scoffed. “The commander? Come off it. If he was shakin’ about anythin’ it was the promise of worthy prey.”

The goblin laughed. “Poor bastards, the moment the commander gets his ‘ands on ‘em… remember the last fool that tried to start somethin’?”

The dwarf smirked. “You had to give the man a hand, I’d never seen someone let their arms get so cleanly lopped off before.”

The goblin laughed at that, breaking the tension over the patrol as the rest of the men joined him in his cackle. They lowered their weapons, but as they did a snap broke them from their cheer. The group’s leader looked down, seeing dirt and leaves dance beneath him before something wrapped around his ankle. His foot was pulled from under him, ripping him back and slamming his head into the dirt before pulling him towards the canopy. Sound left him and his vision blurred, yet somehow reflex maintained the grip he held on his axe. His senses started to slowly recover after, with his hearing starting as a loud ring.

One that was broken by a scream.

It started as a muffle, but ripped through his dulled perceptions as the noise spiked a rush through the dwarf’s body. The surge of clarity settled his now upside-down vision, and he saw that an arrow had sunk itself into one of his men’s legs. The scream was cut short as a man wrapped in steel and mail emerged from the brush. His size towered over the tallest of the group by a head, and his mass allowed for a momentum that carried the club in his hand forward. The weapon struck the wounded man at his temple, sending him to the ground with a sharp crack as his body went limp.

The goblin moved to stab at the man, but could not even get his short sword in front of him as a shield slammed into his face. The thief staggered back, and before he could recover a bolt of pale blue light shot from the trees and struck him in his leg. It burst into force and light, drawing a cry of pain from the goblin as his leg twisted and snapped before he was thrown from his feet. His head struck a tree, and his screams went silent before he even touched the forest floor.

Soon after, another arrow flew from the shrubs, sinking into the leg of the bandit that wielded a crossbow. The thief did not cry out from the pain, and instead clenched his teeth before taking aim at the only visible assailant and loosing a bolt. The warrior raised his shield, tilting it at an angle to deflect the projectile off of its steel surface. He stepped in and cracked his club against the bandit’s knee, but before the thief could make any further noise, he was silenced by the edge of the assailant’s shield being driven into his face, sending him to the ground in a heap.

The armored man stowed his club away and turned to the dwarf. As he did, two others emerged from the brush; a slimmer man wielding a longbow and a small woman garbed in robes. The patrol’s leader had readied his axe out of habit, ready to strike out even as he could feel the blood pooling in his head. Yet, as he looked upon his fallen men and back to their ambushers, his bravery left him. The archer readied an arrow and pointed it at the patrol’s leader, making an effort to pull it back slowly so the strain of his bowstring slipped deep into the dwarf’s ears. His grip loosened, and the axe fell to the ground.

The warrior looked down at the weapon and back to him. “Good man,” he said.

Then he struck the bandit in the head with his shield.

***

Helbram fastened the bindings of the patrol's leader, making sure that the bandit was secured against the tree with his arms bound behind him. He had been stripped of his gear, leaving him with nothing but his breeches. When Helbram felt no give to the ropes wrapped around the trunk, he signaled to Leaf to wake the dwarf up. The archer smacked the bandit’s face a few times, bringing a flutter to his eyelids as consciousness came back to him. By the time that the leader’s eyes finally opened, he was facing both Helbram and Leaf looming over him. The warrior’s helmet only showed cold steel to their prisoner, and the archer had hidden his scowl behind a mask of cloth. His hood was up, hiding the rest of his features in shadow as the dwarf glanced between the two men.

“We will keep this simple,” Helbram said, “I am going to ask you questions, you will answer them.” He pointed to Leaf. “You do not, and my friend here will force them out of you, understand?”

The bandit spat at the dirt. “Torture is it? As if I’m going to believe that, you soft bellied louts couldn’ even k-”

His words were cut off by a scream as Leaf threw a dagger into his shoulder.

Helbram restrained the speed of his glare as he looked at Leaf, meeting the archer’s impassive gaze. He contained the sigh forming at the back of his throat and returned his attention to the bandit.

“Like I said,” Helbram resumed, “answer me and you will not have to deal with my friend here twisting the knife.”

The dwarf groaned, but nodded.

“How many men are in your forces?” the warrior asked.

“A-aroun’ two hundred.”

Helbram knew from their surveillance that it would be a large number, but the confirmation still made his heart sink. He didn’t let it reach his voice as he continued. “Has your group always been this large? Such a force would have drawn quite the eye, even in the Freemarks.”

“The Commander’s been snatchin’ up talent left an’ right for this score.” Mention of their leader returned bite to the bandit’s voice. “You lot have made a right mess of that though, cowardly bastards…”

Leaf stepped forward, but stopped as Helbram held a hand up. Even then, his gaze was still fixed on the dwarf.

“We did not choose to be caged with your merry band, but I am not here to air grievances. Yet, I am met with a certain amount of skepticism.” He placed a hand next to the bandit’s head. “As unusual as your group is, the operation of a Ruhian artifact is beyond the scope of brigands. The Mage with you, Marlin, was he the one that started the device?”

The dwarf nodded vigorously.

“That sates that curiosity… tell me, the warehouse near the mines, is that where you are keeping all of the prisoners?”

The bandit scoffed. “What? You fools tryin’ to plan a rescue?” He laughed. “What a -”

Helbram slipped his hand down and gripped the knife, giving it a slight twist to pull a hiss from the bandit’s lips.

“I assume you take my tone to be one to be one of patience,” he said, “You are sorely mistaken. Tell me what I want to know, now.”

He allowed silence to slip between them. The dwarf met his eyes with an uncertain expression, but still refused to speak. Helbram turned the knife again.

“I’ll talk, I’ll talk! That bleedin’ hurts godsdammit!”

Helbram stopped, but kept his hand on the dagger.

“They’re all in there, it was the best way to keep an eye on ‘em.”

The warrior let go of the knife and stood up. “See? That was not so hard, was it?”

He pulled his shield from his wrist and grabbed it with both of his hands. Before the dwarf could respond, Helbram slammed it across the bandit's face, knocking him back into unconsciousness.

“We will have to gag him,” the warrior said, “Jahora, do you think you could cast an illusion over him for-”

“Now hold on,” Leaf interrupted. He nudged the dwarf with his foot. “It may only be sliver, but he still has an idea of what we’re up to. If we leave him alone then there’s a good chance they’re gonna find him and he warns them.” He yanked the dagger from the bandit’s shoulder, the action deft enough to not wake the thief. “If we’re to be as safe as possible, then you know what we have to do.”

Helbram showed little reaction as the archer placed the knife up against the dwarf’s throat. By all accounts, Leaf was right; leaving the bandit alive was a liability. If they eliminated him here, then their plans would be able to continue without the specter of worry lingering over them.

He chose to be firm.

“Gag him,” Helbram said, a spike of stubborn energy burning in his chest.

Leaf frowned and kept his dagger where it was. “Making them lame and robbing them of their gear, I understand. Injured bodies require resources and their numbers remain thinned, but this… there be nothing behind this besides a bleedin’ heart. Explain yourself.” He motioned between him and Jahora. “You owe us that.”

Again, Leaf was right. 

“The man is bound,” Helbram said, “he is defenseless and disabled. It does not feel right to kill him in such a situation.”

“Do you think he’d give you the same courtesy?” Leaf countered.

“He would not.”

“Mercy and honor are all well and good, but we don’t have the luxury of such naivety.” The archer’s voice was cold, but it's undercurrent of worry started to rise. “Two. Hundred. Men. Helbram.”

“I know,” the warrior said, “and it is foolish to try and keep our hands as clean as possible, but still…” His hands shook as they curled into fists, a mix of frustration and anger coursing through him. Frustration at the situation, and anger at a morality that refused to bend to reason. A morality that he had thought been worn away by a reality that crumbled away all other ignorant, childish notions. Yet still, it refused to unlatch from his heart, no matter how much he wanted to tear it away.

For if he did, there would be nothing left.

Jahora walked up to him, her brow furrowed as she tried to keep a straight face. “Leaf is right. I admire what you are trying to do, but…” Worry broke through her mask and a tremble traveled along her voice. “I don’t want to die here, Helbram.”

He closed his eyes and looked up, taking in a deep breath before he knelt down to meet the Mage eye to eye. “I understand Jahora, I do. You and Leaf are free to speak your minds, and if you wish to override my decision, then so be it.”

“So, you’ve made your decision then?” Leaf asked.

Helbram lifted his visor and met the archer’s gaze. “I have,” Helbram said, “one steeped in foolishness, but one that I make all the same.” He looked at Jahora again to show her his face.

The Mage searched his expression, digging for something beneath it. Her eyebrows widened as a realization seemed to come over her. Whether it was of him, or herself, he did not know, but she centered herself and placed a hand on Helbram’s shoulder. “I suppose I wish to be naive as well.”

Leaf clenched his jaw and kept his dagger raised, looking between his companions as his grip shook. With a final snarl he let his hand fall and wiped off his knife. “Just a trio of fools we are then…” He looked at Helbram and sheathed his dagger. “If anythin’ happens, it’s on your arse.”

“Understood,” Helbram said.

“Good,” Leaf said. He leaned down and tore a piece of the bandit’s breeches off. “Hells, this is rancid. Gonna leave quite a taste in the bastard’s mouth…”

Jahora reached into her pouch and pulled out a pinch of crystal dust. “Let’s hope it stays in his mouth while the illusion conceals him.”

Helbram looked on as his companions set about their tasks. The weight of his decision had not left him, and he did not expect it to, but nonetheless, he could only be grateful as no further objections were raised. Perhaps fortune had not shunned him as much as he thought.

He joined the party in their tasks. “I shall make sure his bindings are secure.”

Chapter Fourteen

The party kept a cautious pace as they made their way back to camp. By the time they arrived, it was nightfall, and both Jahora and Leaf retired to rest in the wagon while Helbram took first watch. Though the Mage tried not to show it, it was clear that days of continuous spellcasting were starting to wear on her. Leaf was of a similar fatigue, having spent much of the week covering their tracks or forging new ones to lead the bandits away from their camp. For as much as Helbram tried to support, he knew his expertise lay within martial matters and keeping a watchful eye as they slept. Despite the archer’s insistence that he did not need more rest, Helbram made sure to only switch with Leaf when he woke up naturally, which was starting to match the break of dawn. It earned him muttered curses and a scowl that tried to hide the clear gratitude beneath, but Helbram didn’t mind.

It was not as if his own dreams were restful, as of late.

He sat near the edge of the clearing once again, Ether coursing through his ears as they focused outside of the glade. While Jahora had set many alarms outside of their camp, he preferred to err on the side of caution, especially since the next phase of their plan was coming soon. That did not mean that he wasn’t somewhat bored with the affair, however, and while his ears were otherwise occupied, his eyes were concentrated on his hands. His fingers displayed a practiced dexterity as they manipulated his tools, performing maintenance on the mass of weapons piled next to him.

He ran a file down the length of a short sword’s blade, the corner of his vision catching the claymore at the center of the camp. Throughout all of their time in the glade, neither Jahora nor Leaf questioned why it was still embedded into the ground, but he could tell that both of them were increasingly confused by its presence.

In truth, he was too. At any point Helbram could have stowed it away with the rest of the weapons, but whenever he approached to do so, he always paused. Was it because he was avoiding a reminder of his failure when they first arrived, or was it because he still had a desire to try those very same things even now? He looked at the claymore directly and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated what it was that was driving him. That reflection soon transformed into impulse, but after a moment, he scoffed and looked away.

“Best not to tempt fate this day…”

A minute later, he was back in front of the sword, hand wrapped around the leather grip. He shook his head and let out a resigned sigh.

“Well, it seems I truly am a fool.”

Rather than try and form the spell as he did before, he kept his hand wrapped around the blade’s handle, clinging to a fleeting hope that direct contact would somehow facilitate a successful cast. He concentrated and reached out to the Aether around him, forming the image of the chest in his mind. Once again, the aspected power was Transposed into raw energy and gathered in his palm as a slow, growing warmth. He repeated the tedious process from before, and when he fully visualized the chest, he tightened his grip and released the spell into the sword.

Like before, a line of pale blue light streaked down the claymore and disappeared into the ground once it reached the tip of the blade. Like before, the Aether surged back and burst from the handle, kicking his hand away. He had anticipated the failure and lifted his palm from the grip ahead of time, reducing the damage of the malfunctioned spell to a slight sting at his fingertips.

“Truly a fool…” he muttered.

“Helbram?”

Jahora’s head poked out of the wagon, the curiosity in her eyes overpowering any exhaustion she had shown before. She hopped from the vehicle, carrying one of the modified barrel lids in her hands. “I didn’t know you were practiced in spellcraft.”

Helbram laughed. “‘Practiced’ is a very loose term. Consider me nothing more than an infant struggling to take his first steps.”

“Come now, there is no need to disparage yourself so.”  She placed the barrel lid on her workstation, the rest of her fatigue giving way to interest as she peered at the claymore, purple eyes alight with the glow of Aether. “Judging from the structure… you were attempting to channel a storage spell, correct?”

He nodded. “‘Twas the intent, at least.”

“Do you mind if I examine it?”

Helbram shrugged, “By all means, just stay right there for a few minutes…”

He repeated the spell once again, showing his palm towards Jahora as Aether melded into its shape. His previous comment had confused the Mage at first, but he saw a realization -one that quickly turned to surprise- to her raised eyebrows as she watched him struggle to cast a simple spell. When he was done, she gave no inclination of any judgment that may have taken form and instead studied his spell.

“The structure is sound and there are no errors in the formation, but the Aether…” she muttered.

“Too weak?” Helbram asked.

She shook her head. “No, too unstable. You have given it shape but it's almost as if the Transposition is incomplete. Think of it as a blade that has only been halfway heated before it was pounded into the mold of a hammer.”

“I see… unfortunately, as you could see, it takes quite a bit of time for me to even form such a spell. No doubt the errors in processing the Aether are occurring during that time.”

She nodded. “How long have you been practicing?”

“Near around a decade and a half now.”

Jahora choked. “I… well…”

Helbram snorted. “Quite a bit of time for such a meager result, correct? No need to soften such words, it is something I have accepted for quite some time.” He shook his hand, letting the spell in its grip slip away. “Though it does not stop me from running a fool’s errand from time to time.”

“M-maybe you just need guidance,” the Mage stammered, “I could help you direct the Aether into the spell properly.”

Helbram tried to ignore the urge that rose within him at Jahora’s words. The desire to tell her that he was already familiar with such methods, that he’d read of them and practiced them time and time again. The want to vent about how he had memorized the flow of Aether across his body to such an extent that he would be able to paint it with his eyes closed, able to illustrate the fiction that refused to become reality. The words formed at his throat, bitterness and bile filling the voice that was about to say them, but he knew that Jahora was not deserving of the venom pooling within. He let go of what he wanted to say as a long, defeated breath.

The hells is wrong with me?

“Please do.” He held his hand out to the Mage.

When Jahora took it, he felt the familiar buzz of Aether surrounding him, flowing from the Mage and over his body in a matter of moments, a far cry from the struggle that he showcased before. As Jahora continued to channel the energy, he could see the two rings of light orbiting around her head again, absorbing particles of multicolored light and converting them to a pale blue power.

“I never did say this before, but to be a Second Circle Mage is quite impressive,” he said.

She smiled. “Well, it’s quite a distance from fifteen…”

“Oho, ambitious are we?”

“Of course!” She gripped his hand tighter before the Aether around them condensed to where their palms met. When she let go, a glyph had formed, pulsing a pale blue light from the rigid, almost square-like runes that were interlaced throughout the symbol, the Runic Script of Standard. He could tell that it was a far superior, and more efficient, version of the spell Helbram had tried to cast, but that was to be expected.

“Give it a try,” Jahora said.

He nodded and reached for the claymore again. As his fingers wrapped around the handle the blade was quickly enveloped in energy. Like the weapons they stored within the barrel lids, the power condensed itself into a small bead, but rather than drop into any object, it disappeared from view entirely. As it did, a presence formed at the back of his mind. It was faint, like a thought that had just begun to form, but paused at the moment of its realization. He just had to reach out to it and…

The bead of Aether returned, apparating just above his palm and expanding into the shape of the claymore. He grasped the handle, but as he did the energy sparked and a shock spiked through his hand. The claymore, still not shedding its skin of light, warped and sparked with gouts of energy before condensing back into an orb and snapping away from existence, tearing the air in its wake with a violent burst of power. Fire flared up Helbram’s arm as it was blasted away, and he bit back the hiss that tried to force its way through his teeth.

“I- I’m sor-”

“No need for apologies,” Helbram reassured the Mage. He shook his hand to lessen the sting, “I am not unfamiliar with this pain, and I will feel it many times yet when the foolish notion strikes me again.”

“Maybe there is something else I can do to help. It’s a two-part spell, so if I guided you through the release stage you could-”

“Jahora, it is fine. There is no need for you to waste anymore of your energy.” He knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder. “You have been a great help. Perhaps I could seek your aid further once all this other business is behind us.” He smiled. “If you would be so kind as to guide me, of course.”

She returned his smile. “Gladly.”

“Perfect.” Helbram stood up and stretched his back. “In the meantime, I would ask what you were doing with this.” He walked up to Jahora’s table and tapped the lid.

The Mage trotted to her station and took hold of the device. “I was just double checking the structure of the runes. It may be a family trade, but this is the most artificing that I have done in quite some time.” She ran her hand over a series of runes that were formed by straight lines cutting across one another, ones that Helbram recognized to be of the Orthodox variety. She trailed them with her fingers and tapped the green crystal at the center of the lid. “Altering a device’s function is also a bit more than simply adding runes to its design. Many enchantments are fueled by a specific type of Aether, and while casters can Transpose to convert free energy into what they need with an effort of will, magical devices lack the ability to do so.”

She drummed her fingers against a series of flowing streaks, shaped like waves that crashed against one another. “To that effect, I was able to use Free Script to… filter the Aether from the device’s crystal into a rawer energy. It is not nearly as powerful as a properly crafted item, but for our purposes it appears to be doing nicely.”

“More than that,” Helbram said, “I daresay these items will be what gives us a fighting chance.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating,” Jahora said.

“Not at all, proper arms will give the prisoners far better odds than if they were to fight with their fists.”

“If they take them… they didn’t appear to be in the rebellious mood when we looked at them last.”

Helbram sighed. “You are right there, but presenting them with weapons may be the thing that ignites the spark within them.”

“I hope so.” Jahora tapped a bundle of arrows on one side of her station. “I think Leaf will be appreciative of my work here, at least.”

“I would say he already is,” Helbram said with a smirk, “the man has snuck a sample and has been practicing his aim with it since.”

The Mage scoffed. “Of course he has, I was wondering where one of the arrows went… ah, and we have this.” She picked up one of the flares. “I have managed to alter the runes a bit for a timed release after we twist it, just as you requested.”

Helbram took the cylinder in his hands. “Perfect, we really would be lost without you.”

Jahora rubbed her upper lip and puffed out her chest. “Save the praises for after this is all over, and perhaps chip in for a bit of crystal dust…” She looked at her deflated pouch with a frown. “Even with the residue from the wagon’s engine, we’re just about dry.”

He pressed his lips thin. “I see… Well, if everything goes according to plan tomorrow, then we will not need to worry about that.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “There is one thing that I am curious about.”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“With your knowledge of Ruhian runes, would it be possible for you to turn off the artifact?” Helbram looked at the pillar of light in the sky.

“It could be possible. If Marlin was able to, I don't see why I shouldn’t be able to just flip a switch, but it could be much more complicated than that,” the Mage admitted, “I won’t know until I get closer.”

“I see, best not to think about it too much for now then.” He gave Jahora a serious look. “Otherwise, are you ready?”

She looked over the devices on her table one more time, then gave a firm nod.

“Good to know, but I have delayed your rest for far too long.”

Jahora yawned. “You may be right, I shall turn back in then. Good night Helbram… we’ll win tomorrow, won’t we?”

Helbram nodded. “We will, so sleep well with that in mind.”

She smiled and returned back to the wagon. When the Mage was out of sight, Helbram held his hand out, reaching for the presence at the back of his mind. Right before he fully grabbed it, however, he stopped, feeling the phantom of the burning sensation he suffered through before. He clenched his hand and let it drop to his side.

“That is enough foolishness for now…”

He returned to his watch, hands empty after he finished adjusting the last of the weapons. With nothing needing the attention of his eyes, he placed his helmet back on and let its familiar fit settle over his head. After a few hours, Leaf emerged from the carriage, a sour look in his eye as he examined the moons above.

“Oi, your watch ended a couple of hours ago,” he said. Any adversity he had shown earlier that day appeared to have faded from his temper.

Helbram tapped his head against the tree at his back. “I was going to wake you, but you were sleeping so peacefully, like a babe wrapped in a blanket.”

The archer scowled. “I’ll bloody show you babe… and why are you wearin’ your helmet? Did you spot somethin’?”

“Would I be in a light mood if I did?” Helbram asked, “No, just consider it a moment of comfort…”

Leaf waited for Helbram to elaborate, but when no explanation was given, he shrugged and walked up to the edge of the glade. He peered out into the forest, a skeptical look coming over him. “You know, I really thought we’d at least have a couple of close calls by now.”

“You did a fine job creating false tracks, and a few false camps,” Helbram said.

“I guess so, but given how organized they seemed to be… I suppose I shouldn’t start giving luck the side eye now.” 

“Indeed, that is for me to do.”

“I dunno, you strike me as an optimist.”

“Now what gave that away? Was it the sighing?”

“No, it was all the mutterin’.”

They shared a chuckle and Leaf took a seat at a tree across from Helbram. The archer kept looking off into the forest, a distant expression coming over him.

“The quetali… do you think we can handle ‘im?” he asked.

Helbram rapped his fingers against his knee. “From what I have observed, I believe that he is a lower Layer Journeyman.”

Leaf slowly blinked, but said nothing further.

Helbram snorted. “Right, I should probably elaborate.” He held up three fingers. “Awoken are typically separated into three tiers: Journeyman, Expert, and Master. Within each tier are five levels of progression, which we call Layers. As one proceeds to higher Layers within a certain tier, their mastery over their Ether becomes more proficient. It is not so different from how casters measure progress, though they do not use tiers and just count from first to fifteenth.”

Leaf nodded. “I see, and you’re sure the quetali is towards the bottom rung then? We’ve seen the man battin’ away his men two or four at a time during their spars.”

“That could be more attributed to his species’ natural traits,” Helbram explained. “From the way that he had to take time between empowering his arrows during the attack on the convoy, I suspect that his mastery over Ether is limited.” He frowned. “Though, there is always the chance I am wrong. In addition to their strength, quetali are known to be fonts of Ether themselves.”

“What pleasant information… which brings us back to my question; do you think we can handle ‘im?”

“If we were to face him head on without a plan? I would say no.” He raised a fist to Leaf. “But we have a plan, do we not?”

The archer smirked and rapped his knuckles against Helbram’s. “Aye, that we do.” As his arm fell, a curious look flashed across his eye. “For all that you know, I’m surprised that you’re not an Awoken yourself.”

Helbram was silent for a moment, feeling venom take hold within him for the second time that night. There was a desire to lash out about this perceived injustice about that exact fact, to lament his Core’s inability to grow no matter how much he tried, but he silenced it. There was no point in complaining, and to do so before the final stage of their plan would only dampen spirits.

“Cultivation of Ether does not occur at a universal rate,” is what he said instead.

Leaf furrowed his brow. “Is that so?” He chuckled to himself. “Maybe I could Awaken then, with enough pointers.”

“It is more likely than not,” Helbram said, “Most are capable of cultivating the power, it just takes an amount of effort that many are either distracted from or are unable to concentrate upon. If you would like, I could try and guide you in its use.”

“Really? That would be handy, especially that little trick with your ears.”

“Then let us start with that.” Helbram stood up. “Get comfortable and I shall guide you through the basics.”

Leaf shifted his position to where he sat flat against the forest floor. Helbram knew that there was little chance that the archer would experience an Awakening, but there was always the chance that he possessed enough residual Ether, outside of a Core, for him to utilize for the simple boon of enhanced hearing.

It was going to be far more than Helbram’s own, regardless.

“Close your eyes and take in a deep breath,” the warrior said, “As you do, flush any thoughts you may be having out of your mind and focus inwards.” He tilted his head when an idea struck him. “Treat it as if you were readying a shot from your bow.”

Leaf’s chest rose and he went still.

“Now, you must make a choice. You can either lose yourself in your heartbeat, or your breathing. Due to your specialty, I would recommend the latter. When you breathe out, dial in on how your body responds, and then dig deeper.”

Leaf’s chest fell as he breathed out.

“Concentrate on the energy you can feel brushing through your skin, that slight shiver trailing across you. Reach out to it with your will… your thoughts, and pull it where you need it to be.”

Helbram went silent after, observing Leaf as his chest rose and fell, never altering the rhythm of his breaths. Despite the man’s ornery nature, Helbram was not surprised that he was capable of slipping into such a state of focus easily. One did not become an archer if they were incapable of doing so.

He watched Leaf continue the exercise for a few minutes, and to his surprise he felt a brief hum pulse over his companion’s body before his eyes snapped open with surprise.

“Did I -” Leaf cupped his ears, “I did! Gods, I can bloody hear everythin’!”             

Helbram swallowed his pang of envy the moment it began. “Very good, that should allow you to keep better attention on your surroundings.” He gave a satisfied nod. “We will make a fine Awoken out of you yet.”

“I think I just need to get used to all of this first…” Leaf stuck a finger in his ear. “I dunno why a squirrel is up so early in the mornin’, but it's chewing up a bloody storm, how were you toleratin’ that?”

Helbram raised an eyebrow and pushed his attention out around him. Ether had coursed through his ears the entire night, but he did not hear the squirrel that Leaf mentioned. He concentrated further and… heard nothing. Denial told him that the archer was just hearing things, but he knew the truth.

“It appears you have more sensitive ears than I,” Helbram said, “A shame, I imagine you will be hearing much mischief this night.”

Leaf frowned. “I didn’t think it’d be so annoyin’.”

“It does take some time to get used to the feeling, but after a while, you will find it to be the preferred state.” Helbram yawned. “But, I shall leave you to dwell on that on your own, fatigue is catching up to me.”

“Right, get yourself some rest.” Leaf gave him a small wave. “See you when you’re awake, and thank you for the guidance.”

Helbram waved in acknowledgment and stepped away from the edge of the clearing. As he walked to the wagon, he tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his chest. He should have been happy for Leaf, and he was, but it was tainted by a jealousy that only filled him with shame. Before he stepped into the carriage, he sighed and removed his helmet. As the moonlight bounced off of his visor, he found himself looking at his reflection.

Not of the tired, bearded man with shaggy hair and a dull shine to his eyes, but of a boy; one with short cut hair, smooth cheeks, and a stare filled with light and energy. Energy that told the world he was going to explore it all, to leave his mark upon it for everyone to see. For a moment, he could feel his hands shrink as they wrapped around his helmet, reverting back to a time when he thought he would never fit into it. He closed his eyes, keeping his breaths shallow and letting a stillness wash over him. When he opened them, the boy was gone.

You are still hanging on, are you not?

***

Sleep brought him back into the void, its emptiness fully enveloping his vision. The suffocation and oppression of its air was gone this time, and the darkness felt light on his shoulders as it stretched out endlessly before him. He could not see himself this time, and it was these signs that told him what was to come.

Helbram did not react as the “floor” rumbled under him, trailing shivers up his body until he felt himself rise up, lifted by the unseen mass that formed at his feet. Light followed, snapping into existence with a shower of blinding radiance. Its rays stabbed into his “eyes”, forcing a “hand” to his face out of reflex, one that he did not lower until the pain faded. When he did, the void was no more.

In its place was the sky, blue and bright in its cloudless expanse. The Sun trailed across the horizon, shining upon the endless plain below. Its rays shimmered across dew drops, sparkling through the grass like diamonds scattered across a boundless landscape. A path cut through the fields, paved from a singular, flat, gray stone that went on further than he could see.

His body was finally visible, covered in its shell of armor like it always was, but though he could see himself, control had been taken from him. Helbram remained in place, fixed to the start of the stone road. There was an impulse to walk its path, but Helbram did not embrace it. He knew what was to come next.

The flame formed in front of him, somehow brighter in the daylight than it had been before. Perhaps it had been kindled by the hope he had felt rise up over the course of the past week, or maybe it was just a trick of the light. Regardless, it floated just out of arm’s reach, its tongues once again brushing his face with a warmth that filled his heart with desire. Frozen as he was, looking away was no longer an option, and so he bore the fire’s torture, feeling a comfort that he knew to be false. Still, he could not shut the feeling away, could not stop the embers of long faded dreams from kindling once again.

Dreams that wished to reach the heights of legendary heroes, to ring with a melody that matched the greatest of songs. Ambitions that sought to paint a spot of his own on the canvas of history. Such desires were not meant to be. Instead of glory, he was met with eyes that could not meet his when they turned away, irrelevance to those whose own dreams took steps beyond his weakness.

And the blood of friends at his feet.

The flame pulled away, drifting down the path and disappearing past the horizon. He could still feel it calling to him, but his body refused to move. Tremors followed soon after, scattering the dew on the grass around him and sending a singular crack along the stone path that traveled between his feet. So violent were the quakes that, had he not been frozen, he would have fallen to the dirt as rock rose from the ground and traveled towards the sky.

From where he stood, the mass of earth was leagues away, but even then he could see the flame. It sat atop the rock, cresting the peak of what started as a small hill. It continued to grow, tearing the earth beneath in cracks that ripped through the air like thunder. The hill became a mountain, and even then, it continued to press into the heavens, reaching so far that Helbram could see the peak no longer. Earth swallowed the Sun, casting a shadow over him as his body was finally released from its invisible restraints.

His feet caught him, keeping him stable as the last of the tremors passed, but rather than move, he looked up, focusing on the feeling that called at him from the top of the mountain. He could not see it, but the flame was still there, taunting him with its presence. Desire told him to move, but logic could not ignore the obstacle that had formed. The further he looked at the mass of rock, the more his ambitions started to quell.

Fluttering broke him from his stupor, the flap of wings that belonged to a pair of birds that flew above him. One was a hawk, its feathers were hazel, drifting across the sky like a tuft of dirt that was dotted by the speck of green near its beak. The other was a swallow, with feathers of a pale white shade tipped with purple, gliding with the wind like gems resting upon a cloud.  They drifted higher and higher, ignoring Helbram’s presence as they soared towards the heights of the mountain beyond. They slipped past the shadow that consumed him, glinting within the rays of the Sun as they too disappeared from his view, leaving him staring at nothing but the massive mountain before him.

He didn’t move a single step.

Chapter Fifteen

Helbram and Jahora woke early in the morning, sharing little words between each other or Leaf as they readied their gear for the day. The final stages of their plan waited for night to fall, but in the meantime, they moved into the forest performing what had become routine. They stealthed towards the opposite end of the barrier’s perimeter and once again set up a false camp. Keeping track of the Sun’s position through small holes in the canopy, they waited until the patrols would start to change their shifts. Their pattern had shifted a few times since their ambushes began, but the party had adjusted to the timing many times to continue their pace of thinning the bandits’ numbers.

Today, they were especially cautious, striking at patrols that wandered towards the outer perimeter. Not only that, but they kept their movements random, attacking one patrol before slipping away and moving to another side of the perimeter before striking out again. Including the two that they had attacked that day, the party had crippled twenty patrols and stripped them of their gear, the result of two weeks of ambushes and misdirection.

Their efforts did not go unnoticed, however. The density of the patrols had grown thicker lately, and the bandits themselves were fortified in more robust gear. Over the past couple of days, the latter had played into the party’s favor, but once again they started to notice a shift.

“Somethin’s strange,” Leaf whispered as they skulked through the woods, “the patrols feel… off.”

“It is their gear,” Helbram said, “if anything, they are less well equipped today than they were at the start of all this.”

“There are even more out than usual as well,” Jahora remarked, “Perhaps they have shifted more towards quantity now.”

“It would make sense, if they wished to prevent their arms from being taken…”

“We should head back,” Leaf said, “There’s no point in riskin’ anythin’ before tonight.”

The three of them shared a nod and started to make their way back to camp. Their trip was not without interruption, as both Leaf and Helbram picked up the distant rustle of leaves that told them another patrol was nearby. The party slipped behind cover and watched the bandits approach. The thieves maintained their usual four-man formation, carrying the usual spread of weaponry. He noticed Leaf raising his bow out of the corner of his eye, and held a hand up to the archer as he observed the patrol further. The group was like all the others they had seen that day, but their postures were too relaxed, like they were aware of something that gave them confidence.

Or someone.

“Not going to take the bait? What a shame.”

Both Leaf and Helbram snapped their heads in the direction of the voice. A flash of maroon light pulsed out from the foliage and instinct pushed Helbram into a dive. The warrior rolled when he hit the ground, hearing wood crater and shatter as an Ether infused arrow struck the tree behind him. He scrambled to his feet, but before he could find his footing another arrow flew towards him. He threw his shield up, catching the projectile at an angle to deflect it away, but right after the hiss of gathering power slipped into his ears. Bracing both hands behind his shield, Helbram spread his feet apart as the third arrow struck, this one filled with a power much like the first.

The impact of the shot sent a shock through his body, and though he caught this arrow at a better angle, there was still enough force behind it to push his guard back and break his stance. With only one leg touching the ground, he could only watch as a large red figure broke from the trees and slammed his shoulder into Helbram’s chest.

The blow tore away the little footing he had left and threw him from cover. He landed on his back, bouncing from the momentum with a spin. His vision threatened to turn black, but he clung to consciousness as he caught himself with his feet, skidding across the forest floor. The bandits were already on him before he could catch his breath, but the rush of battle was already surging through him. He turned and met them in melee.

He caught one of the bandit’s blades with his shield and twisted to block another’s axe with his breastplate. The shock of the blow was barely a tickle compared to the quetali’s, and Helbram drew his dagger from his waist before swiping across the wrist of the bandit holding the axe. He yelped and staggered back, allowing Helbram to force his shield to the side and rip the guard of the sword-wielding thief open. He flipped the blade of the knife forward and thrust it into his assailant’s shoulder before leaping back to avoid an arrow loosed by the patrol’s marksman. 

With enough distance between them, Helbram sheathed his dagger and drew his sword, finally finding a gap to slip into a guard position. The bandit archer had readied another shot, but an arrow punched through his neck and he fell to the ground with a gurgle. The shot forced the other bandits behind cover, but that was soon followed by a grunt of pain. Leaf was tossed from the trees and crashed into the dirt next to Helbram.

The quetali followed after him, emerging from the brush with a suffocating presence granted to him by his obscene size and feral stare. The sight of him made even his own men pause and they remained behind the trees. One of his hands was wrapped around Jahora’s throat, holding her in the air with little reaction to her struggling. Two of the others held a bow and the final one a sword. One of four that hung from his waist.

“So, you three are the ones that have given my men such a hard time?” He threw his bow to the side. “How disappointing.”

Jahora beat and scratched the quetali’s arm, but he showed little care for her desperation. Her Circles flashed around her head, but they snapped away once the bandit commander tightened his grip. A pained groan bled from the Mage’s teeth, and no amount of clawing at the man’s hand made a difference.

The noise sent a surge of energy through both Leaf and Helbram. The archer rose to one knee and loosed an arrow at the quetali’s head while Helbram charged at the larger man head on. With a flick of his sword, the commander batted the arrow away, but the motion left the arm that held Jahora exposed. Helbram kicked off the ground and lunged at the opening, slamming his sword onto the quetali’s wrist. 

The blade only left a shallow cut as it scratched against the commander’s skin, but the impact of the blow loosened his grip over Jahora. Helbram reached up with his shield arm and ripped the Mage from his opponent’s grasp. He let the rush flowing through his veins fuel him, and he threw Jahora towards Leaf. The quetali snapped his leg up, kicking the warrior in the ribs right when the Mage landed in the archer’s arms.

The shock from the blow blacked out his vision and threw him off of his feet to the side. He rebounded off of the dirt again and sight snapped back into focus, allowing him to roll back onto his feet. Throughout the exchange, the grip he held on his sword maintained, and he readied himself back into a stance, trying to ignore the shakes coursing through him. He spared only a glance at his companions to confirm that they were not caught in conflict with the other bandits, then shouted at them.

“Run!”

Leaf moved without hesitation and kept Jahora in his arms during his disappearance into the trees. Helbram heard the Mage raise her objections, but he knew the archer would do what needed to be done. He faced the quetali once more, keeping his guard raised as he inched towards a thicker gathering of trees. The commander stared him down and he could feel his heart quicken, beating with a thunder that drowned all other sound. When the brush was within leaping distance, Helbram broke to retreat.

“Oh… did you think I was finished?”

Red light flashed through the quetali’s leg and he slammed his heel into the forest floor. The ground cracked as the commander flew forward, clearing the distance between him and Helbram in an instant. He appeared before the warrior in a blur and slammed his hand into the side of Helbram’s helmet. Instinct took over and the warrior snapped his sword arm up to drive his pommel into his assailant’s arm. It was enough to knock the hand away before it could get a grip, but the quetali’s assault was not finished. Another flash of red followed and Helbram pulled back his shield to cover his torso, catching another Ether infused kick with his guard.

Energy swelled in the quetali’s leg and burst, forcing Helbram back. The warrior dug his toes into the ground, maintaining his footing as he slid back. His shield arm quaked, but he clenched his fist and steadied his nerves. The commander didn’t pursue this time, instead choosing to study the warrior with his red eyes.

“Not an Awoken, but such reflexes…” A manic grin stretched across the quetali’s face, revealing his gleaming sharp fangs. He drew the rest of his swords and readied all four of them into a stance that Helbram did not recognize. The Sun’s rays poked through the canopy and struck the nearly white blades. It refracted off of their profiles in a pattern of shimmering scales, gleaming as they drank from the light.

“I’ve decided that you may be worth my time. Do not disappoint me again,” the commander growled.

Helbram considered making another attempt at a retreat, but he knew that the result would be the same. He took in a deep breath, widened his stance, and tensed his body. Tension grew thick between them, winding tight enough that a breath would be enough to break it.

His opponent shattered it with a roar. He leapt at Helbram and cleared the distance between them in the span of a breath. His blades flashed and Helbram stepped back, deflecting two of the swords with his own and catching another with his shield. The fourth slipped through, but bounced off of Helbram’s armor. He threw his shield to the side and followed it with his blade, striking the commander across his chest. The blow only left a scratch that barely beaded with blood, but it made the commander’s grin widen.

“Good…good,” he rasped.

The quetali flicked his blades inward, forcing Helbram to hop back to avoid the blow, but once the commander’s swings completed their arcs his arms crossed over and their blades pulsed red. He lunged forward and swiped at Helbram with a cross slash that struck the warrior right at the center of his shield. Ether burst from the swords, blasting Helbram back and into a tree. The quetali pursued, bearing down on the pinned warrior as anger replaced the glee in his face.

“Do not falter!” he roared. His swords danced and forced Helbram to huddle behind his shield. He tried, and failed, to find his footing under the assault. The cadence of three blows bounced off of his guard, but the fourth slipped through as the Quetali slammed a pommel into the side of his helmet.

Helbram turned with the blow to slip from between the commander and the tree. The attack still left its mark, and he stumbled to the side. The quetali huffed and twirled his swords, waiting for Helbram to right himself.

“I said not to disappoint me,” he said. “Show me some spirit before I cleave you in two. Make it worth my while!”

Rage pulsed through Helbram and fueled a newfound clarity that burned through the blurriness in his vision. He growled and bent his knees, lowering his stance as the quetali crossed his arms over again, readying another Ether infused slash.

Helbram charged first and kept himself low. The commander’s arms twitched before his swords snapped forward, but Helbram planted his feet and lowered himself further. The warrior was nearly touching the ground by the time he brought his shield up, catching the blades at an angle that threw them skyward. The energy coursing through them surged and burst harmlessly into the air. Helbram stepped in and threw all of his weight behind a thrust that sank into the commander’s exposed chest.

Only the tip of his sword bit through the quetali’s hardened skin, but he pulled his blade back and flicked his sword across his opponent’s face. The commander staggered back with a hiss and swung his blades in front of him, forcing Helbram back. He shook his head and looked at the shallow wounds across his torso. The quetali’s eyes dilated, undeterred from the blood pouring down his face.

“Finally! Some sport! Then let us drop the theatrics, shall we?”

He let out a low growl as Ether poured from his wounds, its color matching the blood that poured down chest. As the power flowed from the cuts, they sealed, but he didn’t move to wipe his face and instead smeared the blood across his cheek. His mouth cracked into another grin, but his eyes were more focused rather than crazed. He shifted his stance and held two of his swords poised to thrust while the others were splayed out, ready to swing forward in slashes.

The commander kicked off of the ground and leapt at Helbram with a speed that was both wild and refined. His arms started to move as if they had minds of their own, ones conditioned by clear practice and form. The shift of the tempo from chaotic to precision pressed Helbram on the back foot as he struggled against the more concentrated assault. Every blade that he blocked was followed by another that pursued its shadow, landing glancing blows against any openings in his stance. His armor absorbed most of the damage, but even when the warrior kept his guard up against the dancing blades, he started to accumulate shallow cuts from where his armor did not cover. Those that were deflected by his steel shell left scratches across its surface and shook his body with every impact. Any opening that Helbram tried to exploit in the quetali’s form resulted in his sword getting parried or bound and pushed aside as a different blade struck his exposed flank.

“Is this it? Is this all you can muster?”

Helbram leapt to the side, breaking free of the assault as the quetali’s blades cleaved into a tree that was just behind him. The warrior righted himself, but he could feel his arms quaking and knew it was not just from fatigue. His heartbeat continued to smother all other sounds, and he struggled to catch his breath. Once again the commander did not pursue, but there was a clear hunger flaring in his eyes that bled into his swords. It sent a chill down Helbram’s spine. Could he really stand against such overwhelming force?

He set his jaw and took in a deep breath to calm himself. If he had time for such thoughts, he had time to act. 

The quakes in his vision stilled and his heartbeat settled as he pushed all other thoughts away and embraced a singular purpose. Victory would not come from blind reaction. He had to study, to learn.

Helbram rapped his sword against his shield, beckoning the quetali. Excitement glinted across the commander’s eyes and he charged; a large muscled mass of red that screamed towards Helbram, swords flashing. The warrior kept his shield up and blocked the synchronous blows even when the quetali slipped into his dance. Helbram abandoned offense altogether and focused on keeping sword and shield moving to repel all attacks as he studied his opponent’s movements. The commander always led with his upper arms first, swinging in arcs that carried a power meant to rattle and disrupt Helbram’s stance. Any resulting openings were then exploited by the quetali’s lower arms, which shot forward with quick, precise thrusts. The cadence was slowly coming to him, and the pattern of his opponent’s form started to reveal itself.

“You taunt me and all you can do is defend?!” the commander roared.

The quetali’s pace quickened, but upon doing so he became more predictable. Rather than huddle behind his shield, Helbram dodged the stronger blows and deflected the quicker strikes that followed with his sword. He allowed some to glance off of his armor, which gave him the opportunity to slip his sword into the openings that he was beginning to see. The warrior’s blade left more and more scratches along his opponent’s skin, but in the midst of the swarm of blades the quetali threw in an Ether infused kick. Helbram caught the strike with his shield and stepped to the side, twisting to deflect the blow. He followed with another swipe of his sword, but to his surprise, his opponent jumped back. He did not pursue, wondering if he was being led into a trap.

Blood trailed down the commander’s chest, beading with every breath that heaved his torso. He looked down at his wounds, and started to laugh. “So you have claws… very good. I haven’t been this entertained in ages.”

Helbram slipped into a different stance. His shield remained in front of him, but his blade was now pointed towards his foe.

“The offensive is it? By all means, have a go.”

They lunged at the same time, the ring of sword and shield against four blades creating a chaotic melody that bounced through the forest with their continued dance. Helbram kept up his momentum, adding more scratches across the commander’s skin as his opponent’s once complicated pattern set itself into a memorized rhythm. Before he could fully settle into its cadence, it was disrupted by a flare of red Ether from one of the quetali’s blades. Helbram caught the infused sword with his shield and turned it away, but the energy within the attack burst and threw him off balance, which allowed the quetali to sink an empowered blow into his flank. The warrior skipped to the side to lessen the impact, but it still managed to dent his armor. He caught himself and lunged back into the fray, landing a blow of his own against the quetali’s ribs. The commander flinched as the blade bit deeper, and he swung his blades in a wild arc in front of him to keep Helbram away. The warrior skipped back to dodge, but pursued the quetali before he could recover. Ether flared through each of the commander’s swords when Helbram closed in. The sight should have sent fear spiking through him, but it was smothered as he fully embraced the rush of battle.

Almost there, he could -

Fire flared through his shoulder. Time slowed and he could see the crossbow bolt that pierced through the gap in his armor. It threw his arm back and punched his guard open, leaving him only able to watch as all four of the quetali’s blades struck. One hit the same shoulder that had been shot, another the upper part of his chest, and the final two on both sides of his ribs. All blows landed at the same time, sending a cascade of sickening cracks through the air as they found their mark. The Ether within the swords burst and he saw the forest fly by as he was sent tearing through the air. He collided with a branch and broke around it, hearing another snap as his shield arm bent at an angle that turned his stomach.

He hit the ground on his back, unable to scream as the wind was ripped from his lungs. He wheezed and shock took over with a blur that washed over his vision. Pain followed, starting from his shoulder and congealing with the aches of his now shattered bones. A distant corner of his mind, one that wasn’t desperate to cry out in agony, told him he needed to run, but his body wouldn’t let him.

“Who interfered?!” the commander roared.

A shadow emerged from the trees, revealing a dwarf. The same dwarf he spared the day before.

“I did, returning the f-”

The quetali kicked the dwarf in the chest, sending him crashing into a tree. The bandit gasped for air and coughed as he struggled to get up. Before he could, the commander walked up to the dwarf and stomped on his knee, sending a resounding crack through the air. The bandit’s scream was smothered as the quetali wrapped a hand around his mouth and lifted him above the ground.

“You dare interrupt my hunt?” the commander growled, “And from the shadows…” two of his hands wrapped around one of the dwarf’s arms and twisted. The resulting snap summoned a scream that almost overpowered the quetali’s grip, but the commander tightened his fingers around his subordinate’s jaw. “Go on then, skitter back to them like the sneak you are.” He tossed the dwarf into the trees. “Just don’t come crawling back to me.”

The commander approached Helbram, disappointment clear on his face as he looked down at the warrior. He made an attempt to move, but all he could manage was a twitch of his hands.

“This truly is a shame,” he placed a sword at the warrior’s neck, “It was a good fight… and for that, you have my respect. May fortune serve you better in the next life.”

Helbram should have felt fear… desperation as his inevitable demise approached. He felt the chill, the shivers across his body as instinct told him that he was going to die, but fear… that was absent. In its place, he could feel the familiar burn of resignation, followed by an acceptance of something he knew to be true for so long, but he tried to deny time and time again.

This was as far as he could go.

The quetali raised his blade and Helbram closed his eyes, but the felling blow never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw the commander looking ahead of him, his brow furrowed. An arrow struck him, alight with a blue aura as the rune carved into its head flared with Aether. It sank into the quetali’s chest, sending him staggering back. His blades flicked in front of him, splintering the follow up projectiles that continued to fly at a steady stream. Another chill washed over Helbram; the heat of his body pulled from him in a direction that he followed with his eyes. Then he saw it; a small bead of fire that formed right in front of the quetali’s face.

Strength found him, and he rolled just as the bead burst into an explosion of fire and wind. The commander took the brunt of the blast head on as he crossed his arms, doing little to prevent him from being thrown backwards. A rush came over Helbram, and he made an attempt to push himself up, but his shoulder screeched in pain and he fell back to the ground. As he did, Leaf emerged from the brush and snatched up the warrior’s sword and shield before pulling Helbram to his feet. His touch was not gentle, and he could feel every part of him scream as he got his feet under him.

“Move your arse godsdammit!”

Helbram followed Leaf into the woods, his broken arm hanging limply at his side as he tried to ignore the protests from every part of his body. Curses echoed behind him as the forest caught fire. He could still make out the commander’s voice amongst them, but none appeared to be getting closer. When they pushed through the brush, Jahora was standing there, swaying with half lidded eyes that failed to blink away the sweat dripping from her pale brow. Leaf cursed and snatched her up with his free hand, cradling the Mage under one of his arms. Helbram continued after him, letting only instinct drive him forward as they disappeared into the trees. The glow of the fire eventually faded into the distance, and silence returned.

They were alone.

***

Helbram could feel his sides chafing, rubbed raw by the dented metal of his breastplate. His breathing was rattled and hoarse, resisting any efforts he made to control it. The bolt through his shoulder sent throbs of pain that pulsed through all of him, draining him of his strength the more they ran. Yet still, desperation fueled him, a natural instinct that told him the moment he stopped, he was dead.

It was evening by the time the party finally made it back to camp. Initially, Leaf had thrown caution to the wind to get them back as fast as possible, but Jahora and Helbram convinced him otherwise. The Mage was so exhausted from her spell that she couldn’t stand, and Helbram’s body was all but broken, but they all knew they couldn’t afford to slip up anymore. Still, that did not stop the archer from upping the pace of their retreat to its limits, which was part of the reason Helbram felt like he had breathed his throat raw.

The moment that they entered the clearing; the warrior’s strength left him and he collapsed onto the ground. The impact sent another flare of pain coursing through him, culminating in an agonized groan that slipped through lips too tired to open. He rolled onto his back, staring up at a sky that was gradually darkening into night. 

Leaf set Jahora down gently as they arrived, and the Mage wandered over to her worktable before letting herself plop against it.

She rubbed her temples. “Gods… I just…. Gods…”

Leaf walked over Helbram and looked him over, a grim look in his eyes. “So that’s it,” he said. “The plan’s fucked harder than a sailor’s wife.”

The warrior forced himself up, groaning all the while. “No, we press the attack instead.”

His companion stared at him with incredulity. “The hells we are! You’re halfway into the grave and it would only take a stiff breeze to knock Jahora off of her feet.”

The Mage raised her hand to object, but let it fall the moment it went past her shoulder.

“We either move now or-” He winced as a broken rib poked him. “Or we wait until they eventually hunt us down.”

“Well, there’s just one thing about that.” Leaf turned Helbram’s head to his shoulder. “Among the right mess that you are, you’re not fightin’ anythin’ with that stickin’ out of you and your arm hanging like a wet rag.”

“The potions,” Helbram eked out, “that should have me as … right as rain.”

“That still needs time to work,” Leaf countered. “They still haven’t found this place; we can give it another-”

“It needs to be now, there is no better time,” Helbram said. “There is blood in the water and they will be eager to chase after it. That means that they will be sending more men out on the hunt. If we can slip by them and seal the town’s gate… it would reduce the amount of men we would have to deal with significantly.”

“You may be right about that, but while the potions may be potent, we don’t know how effective they’ll be, especially with your wounds.” Leaf met his eyes. “If they don’t heal you all the way, could you still fight?”

“I know I just need some rest,” Jahora said in a tired tone, “but Leaf is right, will you be able to fight?”

Helbram sighed. “One hour… give me one hour.’

The archer gave him a skeptical look. “Fine, but if you still look like shite -even more than you normally do- then the plan’s off.”

He fetched the potion box and opened it in front of Helbram. The warrior grabbed two of the vials, which made the archer raise his eyebrows.

“It's gonna do us no good if you trade a broken body for a broken mind,” he said.

“Just trust me,” Helbram said, “and give the last to Jahora.”

Leaf pressed his lips thin, but walked over to Mage.

She picked up the bottle and gave Helbram a concerned look, “Are you sure we will not need this?”

“You may not be injured physically, but the potion should still restore some vitality. I know it is a lot of pressure, but we need you at full strength.”

A grim look came over her, but she nodded and popped the bottle open, downing its contents in one shot. The Mage recoiled as a visible shiver traveled over her body. “Oh good, I think it's working, now if you would just excuse me for a…” she trailed off as she slipped into slumber.

Using his one good hand, Helbram unlatched his breastplate and tossed the bent and battered piece next to him. His lungs finally felt free, but there was still a sting at his sides with each breath. He pulled the corks from the potions with his teeth and readied himself before looking at Leaf.

“I need you to do something for me.”

The archer knelt down next to him. “Would it happen to be slappin’ some sense into ya?”

Helbram snorted, which turned into a groan as pain coursed through him. “Sadly not, I need you to pull the bolt out instead.”

Leaf examined the projectile before wrapping his fingers around it. “Say when.”

Helbram sucked in a deep breath and braced himself. He would have reached for his Ether to aid in the healing process, but there was no way he was going to keep a handle on it with so much pain searing through him. All he could do was gird himself for the maelstrom that was about to come.

“Now.”

Leaf pulled, tugging the bolt out in a single motion. Fire lanced from Helbram’s shoulder as the projectile was ripped free, spreading through all of his body. The grip over the potions remained, and he poured their contents into his mouth.

The effects were immediate.

What was a fire became an inferno of agony, causing each of his injuries to magnify in pain as they started to mend. He could feel the flesh of his shoulder start to close, his broken bones beginning to shift back into place and stitch together, but as they did so it was as if each of them had shattered again countless times over. His vision turned white, and before he could even manage to scream, all went black.

***

The void was once again around him as he was sprawled out on its “floor”, his pains pursuing him into his nightmare. They remained at the corner of his thoughts, throbbing rhythmically to let him know the agony that his body was still going through. The feeling brought anger to the surface, boiling with the heat of the flame that brushed against this back. The surface beneath him started to shift, filling with a pale sand that he was all too familiar with, and his patience reached its limit.

“Enough!”

He slammed his fist into the ground, shattering it like glass as the sand fell away and emptiness returned. Helbram stood up, his dream self free of injury. Fury in his eyes, he turned and faced the flame.

“I have no time for this. If you are going to torment me, show me something I can use.”

The fire burned impassively, but after a moment a mass rose from the darkness. It folded and bent itself into a large, bulbous shape before its excess fell away, leaving the quetali in front of Helbram. Like the figure before, this one held no face, and said nothing before it drew its four swords. It slipped into the commander's stance and waited.

Helbram felt his sword and shield drop into his hands. He took a deep breath, widened his feet, and raised his guard.

“Good… then let us begin, shall we?”

Chapter Sixteen

Dusk had fully enveloped the sky by the time that they made it Goldshire’s perimeter. The bandits had swarmed into the forest during the time that Helbram and Jahora rested, making the density of the patrols thick enough that they were forced to navigate to the town at an agonizingly slow pace. All the while, Helbram could feel the sting in his shoulder and ache in his ribs as he walked. The potions had healed most of the damage he suffered at the hands of the bandit commander, but his injuries were numerous enough that most of him still felt tender. His shoulder, especially, was sore enough that he knew it was only barely healed, and that any overexertion would either tear it open or damage it internally. Still, he pressed on, weathering the lightness that started to corrode his senses. 

For her part, Jahora had used the enchantments of the potion to great effect. Enough of her vitality had been restored that she was able to skulk through the woods with one of their magical storage devices strapped to her back. However, there was still a clear fatigue around her eyes by the time that they arrived at Goldshire, and they decided to take further respite behind the trees while Leaf scanned the walls for patrols. Even if they had made it this far, the archer still threw multiple skeptical glances at the pair during their rest.

While they waited, Helbram looked towards the forest from their elevated position and saw a ball of light shoot into the sky. From his distance, it might as well have been a star, but it hovered over the canopy with a foreboding red light that gave an almost sinister air to all it touched. Minutes later, another ball of light appeared, this one further into the forest. A third followed after a few more minutes passed, hovering over a section of the woods closest to the barrier.

“Hopefully that should draw their attention…” Helbram said, “You did a wonderful job on altering those flares, Jahora.”

“It was your idea,” the Mage said, “All I had to do was change a few runes here and there to delay their release.”

“And I had to go runnin’ through trees to place them,” Leaf muttered, “I can’t believe that we’re still doin’ this…”

“It is better to act now than never,” Helbram said, “Still, thank you for handling my armor.”

The warrior looked down at his breastplate. The quetali’s swords had carved clear gashes into the metal, but more noticeable were the portions of warped and bent steel that marred the areas around his ribs and collarbone. It was almost like a turtle shell in pattern, the result of someone bashing its previous dents back out with a rock. The armor’s integrity paled in comparison to before, but it was preferable over taking any blows with mail alone. The fact that he could no longer feel the plate rubbing against him was also a relief. That, in turn, made carrying one of the storage devices on his back much more manageable. Now, he could focus solely on the burn caused by the lid’s leather straps digging into his tender shoulder.

Leaf scoffed. “If we’re goin’ to do this, then we’re gonna do it right.” He looked through his spyglass and scanned the wall once more. “Patrols are tighter tonight, but we still have a short window to hop in and clear the perimeter without a soul knowin’.” He narrowed his eyes at his companions. “You two can do this, right?”

Jahora gave a weak wave. “I’m right as rain. Just… don’t expect any more fireballs from me.”

When Helbram stood up, the straps dug deeper into his shoulders. The visor of his helmet hid his wince, but that did not stop Leaf’s skeptical gaze from focusing on him. He could not blame the man for it either; had Helbram been looking at someone in the same condition as him, he would doubt them as well. Given the tasks that lay ahead of them… the warrior knew injury was a certainty. He reached for his Ether, but was unable to even feel it this time. Whatever sliver he had access to had faded from him for the time being. He tried, and failed, to ignore the sinking feeling that fact placed in his chest.

“I shall be fine,” he said.

“That’s a load of shite.” Leaf sighed. “But who knows what the hells you’re thinkin’ under that helmet of yours.” He placed his spyglass in his satchel and drew a newly equipped club from his waist. “We should enter from the east. That'll let us clear the wall in one pass.” He met Helbram’s eye again. “If we’re spotted, mercy won’t be an option.”

Helbram gave a firm nod. “Then we best not get found.”

Jahora stood up and slapped her cheeks. Her lips fluttered and she looked towards the sky, resignation clear on her face. “Whatever gods happen to be watching… a bit of grace would do us a lot of good, please?”

A Circle appeared around the Mage’s head when she approached Helbram and Leaf. She brought her hands together, compressing green particles of energy into her palms before molding it into the shape of a glyph that was written in Standard script. Upon its completion, she knelt down and ran her fingers across all of their boots, inscribing them with the same glyph at their heels.

“That should be enough for a good leap,” she said.

The spell set right after, sending a soft pulse of green light through their boots. Helbram could feel them grow lighter on his feet and he sensed a trigger set in the back of his mind when the magic fully settled. It was right next to the claymore that was still under the effects of the storage spell he cast with Jahora’s help last night.

“We just have to think of jumpin’ real high to activate it, right?” Leaf raised himself onto his toes as he talked.

“Yes,” Jahora answered, “best be sure that you are fully focused upon it. Half-hearted thoughts could result in you coming up short.”

“Half-hearted anythin’ will wind up with us bein’ dead,” the archer replied, “but good to know.”

With those words exchanged, the three of them shared a nod before readying themselves. Leaf gave the walls a once over, his hand raised and eyes narrowed. Helbram tried to trace the archer’s gaze, but with the sky growing darker by the second, he could not see whatever it was his companion was looking for. Both he and Jahora stared at Leaf, waiting for the hand to drop.

When it did, they ran.

They skirted across the open field between the forest and the wall, opting for speed rather than stealth. Leaf and Jahora made little noise in their haste, but Helbram could only do so much to prevent his armor from rattling. By the time that they arrived at the wall, the party pressed themselves against it and looked up. They kept an eye out for any patrol that may have noticed their approach. When none arrived, a collective sigh passed from their lips. 

They did not move immediately, and instead kept themselves flat against the wall for a spell. Their gazes were focused upwards, looking out for the orange red glare of torchlight. When one such glow passed, Leaf held a hand up to the party. He made a motion of swinging his club, indicating his plan, and Helbram nodded in agreement. When the patrol above made another pass, Leaf squatted down and sprung from the ground. A burst of air released from his boots, sending the archer soaring towards the top of the wall with enough force to make it to the pathway above. A crack came soon after, followed by a grunt and then a thud.

Leaf’s head poked over the wall and he motioned for the other two to follow. Helbram let Jahora go first, watching the Mage cut through the air with the aid of her spell. She disappeared over the top of the wall for a brief instant, but soon her head poked over the border as well. Helbram mimicked Leaf’s attempt at a leap and kicked from the ground. He pulled the trigger that was set in his mind the moment his feet left the dirt and summoned the surge of wind from his boots. His head felt light as he soared and he could feel air funnel into his helmet. The pressure forced him to narrow his eyes, but despite that Helbram managed to land softly on top of the wall and kept any noise his armor made to a minimum.

He was greeted by the sight of Leaf binding a now unconscious bandit, tying his arms and legs together in such a way that it looked like he was about to string the man up like an animal. He met the archer’s eye with a dubious stare, but only got a shrug in response. Rather than waste any time arguing, he helped Leaf press the unconscious thief against the wall’s border to keep him as hidden as possible. Leaf cut the bowstring of the fallen bandit’s weapon and took the arrows from his quiver before moving back with the party. He peered out towards the rest of the wall, waiting for another opening in the patrols. Though Helbram was without the aid of enhanced senses, he could clearly see the torchlights gliding along the wall in the distance. When he saw them moving away from them, he tapped Leaf on the shoulder, and they began their charge.

Their silent assault was much like their ambushes within the woods, though Leaf took point this time. The archer was naturally quicker and quieter than Helbram, and this allowed him to close in on the bandits patrolling the wall with ease. He knocked the bandits unconscious one by one by bashing his club against their temples, but in the case of any that didn’t collapse right away, Helbram was quick to follow with a strike to the jaw.  Throughout their attack on the perimeter, Helbram noticed a few bandits patrolling the streets of Goldshire below. To their fortune, none of them looked up towards the wall, and while the party prioritized speed, their pace kept their noise to a minimum.

Right after the final bandit on the wall fell, Helbram and Leaf began to bind them and shove them against the wall just like they had with the first thief. Jahora took it upon herself to break the enemy’s weapons, but refrained from using magic to avoid drawing any eyes towards them. With the thieves fully restrained, the party made their way to the town gate. It held up a wider, more robust platform of stone compared to the wooden walkways on top of the wall. 

Leaf studied the inside of the town and Helbram looked out towards the forest. Beyond the lights and bandits that were positioned in front of the gate, he could not see signs of movement nor the light of a patrol’s lanterns out in the trees. He held a thumb up to Leaf to relay this, and his companion responded by pointing down towards the base of the gate inside the town.

Two bandits stood at the sides of Goldshire’s entrance, armed with crossbows and directing their attention inwards towards the buildings. Helbram drew Leaf’s attention and mashed his fist against his palm. The archer gave him a knowing nod and positioned himself over one of the bandits. Helbram took his place over the other, drew his shield, and held up three fingers. He lowered them one by one, and when his hand was a closed fist, they leapt from the wall.

He kept his body loose during the fall and held his shield downwards. The face of it collided with the back of the thief’s head and flattened the man into the dirt once the warrior’s full weight was upon him. Helbram rolled with the landing to keep its impact to a minimum, but still felt a flare of pain in his shoulder. 

“Oi, did you ‘ear that?” asked a voice from the other side of the gate.

Helbram went still.

“What?” another voice responded.

“I could have sworn I ‘eard somethin’...”

“You’re always hearin’ things. Last night you thought you heard a bear.”

“There was somethin’! Right angry lookin’ git, he was.”

“It was a flamin’ badger!”

“And he was bloody angry!”

“But it wasn’t a be- y’know what? Don’t talk for the rest of the night. Any more nonsense and I’m likely to turn into a mong meself…”

The conversation continued to fade into bickering, but no mention of checking on the gate was mentioned. Helbram let himself deflate and looked around. The bandit he fell upon lay unconscious on the ground, and he saw Leaf’s target was in a similar condition. The archer did not appear worse for wear and was already in the midst of binding the thieves. Helbram aided his efforts while they both looked out for patrols. With the guards shoved off to the side, the men put their arms together and motioned for Jahora to jump down. 

Even with the added weight of the storage device on her back, the Mage was easily caught in their arms. Helbram was thankful for her lightness, as even such a small impact made his shoulder twinge in pain. He showed no signs of it outwardly and placed Jahora down. When her feet were on the ground, she moved towards the gate and scanned its construction.

She pointed to the supports that were riveted onto the wooden door and then at the beam that was standing upright next to the gate. It rested in a slot that held it out of the way thanks to the latches that closed over the opening. To the beam’s side was a large wooden lever, which Helbram and Leaf approached. With their hands wrapped around the crank, they looked back to Jahora, who was preparing a spell.

Particles of light, varying in color, swirled around the two Circles orbiting her head before shifting into a bright shade of yellow. The power then drifted towards her hands, condensing into the glyph that was taking shape right in front of her palms. At the same time, Helbram could see that same yellow energy flow from the dirt and into her feet before traveling to her hands, further bolstering her spell. The square-like runes of Standard script took on a more defined appearance within the glyph, and her following nod told the men that she was ready.

Helbram and Leaf pulled on the lever, straining when the mechanism proved to be much more resistant than they had assumed. It was enough that Helbram could not afford to keep any strain off his tender shoulder, and with a barely contained grunt, he managed to make the lever move with Leaf’s help. The mechanism snapped down once it started to shift, the sudden movement pulling Helbram down and making his shoulder scream as he failed to let go in time. The latches holding the beam released, and it fell into the supports with a heavy clatter.

“The hells?!”

The pain Helbram felt overpowered anything else the bandits on the other side of the gate were saying, but their tone was indicating a clear alarm. He nursed his shoulder and used the rush provided by his pain to fuel a few frustrated kicks against the lever. Leaf joined in with a few of his own, and with a resounding snap the lever’s handle broke.

Fists thundered against the door.

“Open up! What’s goin’ on back there?!”

Jahora cast her spell and released a bolt of yellow light that struck the gate. A web of Aether suffused throughout the structure’s wooden make, spreading out until its reach found the ground. To finish the enchantment, Jahora clenched her hand into a fist and pulled it back. Helbram felt a snap pulse through the air right before a glyph formed over the gate, its composition the same as the one the Mage had been formulating before.

The bandits continued to bang against the door, but Leaf ignored them and looked at Helbram with a heaviness to his eyes.

“Did it tear?” he asked.

The warrior shook his head. “No, but by the gods did it feel like it was going to…”

“Good, we can’t be ha-”

Leaf’s words were cut off by the creak of a door opening. The party’s heads snapped towards the direction of the sound just in time to see a bandit emerge from a building right across the gate. He was humming a tune to himself and his steps were the stumbles of a drunk, but his flushed face went pale the moment his eyes fell upon the trio. Helbram dashed towards the man and dropped his club to draw his sword, knowing the time for mercy had ended. The bandit scrambled for the flare strapped to his waist, his drunken and panicking self barely registering the arrow that Leaf sunk into his chest. Helbram was upon him once the thief got the cylinder in his hands and ran the man through with his sword. The bandit’s eyes flashed with the last of his life, but as the light left his pupils his hands twisted the flare. A bolt of bright light surged from the device, blinding Helbram momentarily and forcing him to stagger back. His vision cleared just in time to see it burst into an orb of bright red that shined stark against the night sky.

Chapter Seventeen

“It’s an attack!” cried one of the bandits from the gate.

Another flare flew into the air and seared the sky in its crescendo, painting the party in its glow. A bang against the gate followed, chased by a curse.

“All Father’s balls! The fuck is this thing made of?!”

Helbram met the eyes of his companions, and they ran.

Their flight was pursued by the rush of footsteps belonging to the bandits that were patrolling the town. Flashes of lamplight glimmered through the alleyways as the bandits converged on the main street. The party made haste, sprinting parallel to the town’s wall in an attempt to circle around towards the mine. In their rush, there was little they could do to remain silent, and it was not long before a shout sounded from behind them.

“There they are!”

Another flare shot into the sky, its resulting burst of light coating the streets in red.

“Shite!” Leaf spat. With a grunt, he picked Jahora up and held her close to his side in his sprint to get ahead. The Mage, her breaths heavy by the time she was lifted from the ground, spared no complaints.

Even with the rush now flowing through his veins, Helbram could feel a weariness encroaching upon his vision, clawing at its edges as a creeping darkness. The sensation only worsened as he tried to keep up with Leaf’s speed, but he grit his teeth and pressed on. Arrows and bolts flew at their backs, the initial volley missing the party entirely. Helbram placed himself between Leaf and the bandits and hooked his shield, bent and dented as it was, onto the storage device hanging from his back. The weight dragged the device’s leather straps deeper into his shoulder and he hissed through the continued agitation. Another volley of projectiles was released, these more accurate than the last. A few missed, but most bounced off of Helbram’s shield or deflected off of his helmet. Each shot that struck his head shook his vision, but he was able to push forward through the disorientation. He spared a glace behind him, and saw that additional patrols were joining the group chasing them.

“We cannot drag them all like this!” Helbram shouted.

Leaf scanned the surrounding area and turned away from the wall. Helbram followed after him, narrowly avoiding a pile of crates that almost blocked a pathway to what he could only guess was the Goldshire’s market. He spun around once he entered the street and grabbed a crate that was at the top of the pile before pulling it down with all his might. His shoulder seared from the exertion, but he ignored the pain and wrenched the crate down to send it and a few others tumbling towards the ground. They crashed in a mix of splinters and dust, but Helbram spared no time to see if it hindered the bandits’ pursuit.

He chased after Leaf who, even with the burden of carrying Jahora, weaved and jumped through the empty stalls with a grace that put his elven agility on full display. The already vast gap between him and Helbram widened, and the warrior sprinted as fast as he could to follow after the archer. Leaf slipped into an alleyway that was positioned between what Helbram guessed to be a tavern and an apothecary. A large stockpile of barrels choked the alley’s entrance, forcing him to squeeze through the narrow gap in a rushed leap that was followed by a stumbled landing. Jahora was back on the ground and ready once he was well into the alleyway. 

Her hands were brimming with a pale blue light, energy that she unleashed once Helbram was back with the party. A bolt of Aether surged from her palms and struck the stockpile’s support. Wood splintered and barrels fell, further blocking any pursuers that may have been following them. A few stray kegs from the top of the stockpile tumbled onto the ground, shattering into wooden scrap and splashes of mead that filled the air with its sweet, intoxicating scent. A curse bellowed out from within the tavern, but the party had no time to ponder what that could have meant.

They broke for the end of the path, but soon saw the light of lanterns cut in from an intersecting alley. Helbram took point and charged ahead, his sword and shield now properly in his hands and ready. He charged through the corner of the intersection, catching the approaching patrol by surprise. His blade was already thrusting forward before the bandit in front could get ready and he found himself skewered by the warrior’s sword. Helbram pulled his weapon out of the thief's chest and shifted his shield in front of him, blocking a blow from another member of the patrol.

The impact of the bandit’s club against his shield sent a shock into his arm, but he twisted his guard to expose his opponent’s side. Helbram swung his sword into the thief’s flank and kicked him to the ground before stepping back. An arrow flew past his head and into the neck of the bandit that was at the end of the alley. The thief’s crossbow clattered on the ground when reached for his throat, but there was little that he could do before he collapsed. One bandit remained, but when he went for a last, desperate strike against Helbram, a bolt of Aether struck him in the chest and slammed him against a wall. He fell onto the dirt, unconscious, but still breathing.

Leaf moved and checked the bodies. Helbram tried to do the same, but the rush of combat had died enough that he could feel his shoulder pain come roaring back. He clenched his hand into a fist and felt under his shoulder guard. When he did not feel any blood leaking from the wound, a sigh of relief passed from his lips. 

It was a relief that was short lived, for they could hear the hurried steps of another patrol just outside the alleyway. The party readied themselves for another skirmish, but their attention was grabbed by the motion of a door to their side opening. A hand beckoned the group inside.

The party shared a nod between each other and rushed to the door. They slipped behind it just as the bandit patrols rounded the corner and held their breath as they listened to them pass by.

“Dammit! They got Brod’s group, bastards must’ve caught them by surprise,” one of the bandits said.

“One of ‘em is still breathin’,” another observed, “Hey! Wake up you sod… shite, he’s out cold.”

“Leave ‘im, he’ll drag us behind trying to figure out what day it is anyways. We need to find those three before the commander gets back.”

That piece of information brought another measure of relief to Helbram’s mind. It was soon ripped from him by caution once the door’s handle started to jiggle.

“The hells are you doing?”

“They might’ve-”

“That leads to Nell’s place, and that old shrew has never left that door unlocked the entire time we’ve been here. Leave it.”

“But-”

“I said leave it! The last thing we need is the bint yelling at us about disturbin’ her patients or some shite. Why the commander puts up with her I’ll never know, but we don’t have time to waste, come on!”

The party waited until the bandits’ footsteps had faded completely before relaxing against the door. Helbram turned away from the entrance and was greeted by a wooden hallway that was relatively bare of furniture, save for a pair of shelves that were lined with books. The scent of herbs wafted through his helmet, their pungent smell telling him that they had walked into the rear entrance of the apothecary he saw at the market. He did not have time to look at much else, for his sight soon rested on the woman in a brown dress and white apron that was standing in the middle of the hall.

Her face was round with a slight pudginess to it, but not to the point that it hid the laugh lines around a pair of lips that were pressed thin. The wrinkles of the woman’s brow furrowed as she stared at the group with a skeptical look in her brown eyes, illuminated by the small candle she held in one of her hands. Jahora opened her mouth to say something, but the woman raised a stout hand to stop her. Though she only came up to Helbram’s chest in height, the woman carried a presence to her wider frame that commanded a more matronly authority. One that the party obeyed when she motioned for them to follow her.

She led them up her stairs and into a small room that was at the end of the hallway. The room itself was not lit, but through the candlelight Helbram could make out the shape of a bed at the corner of the room as well as a scattering of other furniture that he could only guess belonged to a bedroom. The woman looked over the group again and brushed a lock of graying hair into the nest of brown that was contained by her white bandana.

“Names?” She asked.

“Helbram.” He pointed to his companions. “This is Leaf, and this is Jahora. You are Nell, I presume?”

“You presume correctly,” Nell said. “Now tell me, why are you here?”

“We are here to… well, to deal with the bandits,” Helbram answered.

Nell scoffed. “You’re doing a fine job of it so far.”

“Oi - “ Leaf stepped forward, but stopped when Helbram put his arm in front of him.

“It may not be off to the best of starts, but we have a plan, I assure you,” the warrior said.

Nell narrowed her eyes, focusing on their storage devices. “I assume it has something to do with those things, unless you lot like to run around with barrel lids strapped to your backs.”

“Yes, and it will also require the aid of the people that the bandits have imprisoned. I assume any able-bodied people were snatched up, correct?”

“Yes, they were taken to work the mines. The ones that couldn’t were left to handle all the other town duties. The ones that are injured… well they end up here.”

Nell held her candle towards the bed, showing a smaller figure laying amongst its sheets. It was only after walking closer that Helbram realized it was a boy, one who was no older than the age of ten. His face was wrapped in bandages, ones that trailed down to most of his torso. Though he was still, a slight whine and mumble drifted from the boy’s lips as he slept, and his wrapped fingers twitched uncontrollably. It was a sight that drove a spike right into Helbram’s heart.

“What… what happened?” Helbram asked, a stone sitting in his voice.

“The boy’s father tried to stage an uprising… when it was put down, the Mage decided he needed to make an example out of someone. It was going to be someone’s daughter, but the boy…” Nell’s voice quaked. “He took her place, and that bastard showed no mercy.”

Helbram’s armor rattled from the building rage burning throughout his body, but he kept himself silent.

“I’m puttin’ an arrow through the fucker’s throat,” Leaf growled.

“Not if I burn him first,” Jahora murmured.

“It’s not just the boy,” Nell said, “Many of the townsfolk have been injured, some of them killed. The bandits played no small part in that, forcing them to work those blasted mines day in and day out,” she closed her eyes. “I can hear the explosions even now, but still, the bastards make them dig.”

“Are they here?” Helbram asked, “The injured, I mean.”

“Yes,” Nell said, “They line my rooms, but thankfully their numbers aren’t so large that I can’t handle them. The bandits though, are a different story. Their injured have filled the tavern and a few houses to the brim.” She crossed her arms. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

“We did what we had to do,” Leaf said.

“Oh, I’m not judging. Rather, I’m thankful, even if treating them has been a right pain in my arse.”

“You are the town’s healer, then?” Helbram asked.

“Aye, and their apothecary. The two tend to go hand in hand. Also, don’t worry about the injured rising up anytime soon. They may be making me treat the sods, but that doesn’t mean I have been setting them on the path to a full recovery in a timely manner.” She gave them all an appraising look. “They never said what was happening, but I knew that there was someone out there giving them what for… is this all of you?”

Helbram sighed. “Yes, it is. We were the only ones to break away from the caravan that was meant to free Goldshire.”

“Intended to,” Leaf interjected, “At least, most of them did, besides Marlin and the other hidin’ bastards.”

Nell frowned. “I heard about what happened from some of the injured, but I hoped that there would be more of you…”

Helbram could only give her a shake of his head. Another group of bandits passed through the alley, cursing as they stumbled over their fallen comrades below.

“Right, it’s a good thing I brought you in here then.” She gave them a grim look. “If you’re thinking it will be an easy task to convince the prisoners to rise up, you’re going to be mistaken. The adventurers they captured don’t have a lick of fire to their bellies and the townsfolk are even more beaten down than that. Not to mention that they know if they act, their families are in danger. Do you think you could change their minds? Is your plan so sound that they would accept it readily?”

“What would you do if I said I was not sure?” Helbram asked.

“I would tell you to leave then,” Nell said in a blunt tone, “To leave and hide away until the bandits have had their fill. If you roped everyone into some foolhardy scheme, the consequences could spell the end of us.”

“And if I said I would not do such a thing?”

Nell snorted. “Then I would need to have faith, to believe that the gods decided to send the right person to us in our time of need.”

“Well, I am afraid to say that none of us are Chosen, so the gods intervening in this case is highly unlikely,” Helbram said in a neutral tone, one that shifted to one of comfort. “What I can say, without a doubt, is that I would do my best for Goldshire, and try my hardest to set the prisoner’s free.” He took off his helmet and met Nell’s eyes with clear resolution. “This, I swear.”

The apothecary searched Helbram’s face for a while, looking for a sign of something that she was not able to find. After a moment, she gave a small laugh and shook her head. “Gods, I really must be desperate. You’ll need to find a better speech than that to rally the people, young man, but it’s a start.” She looked out of the window. “The mines are only a few streets away, if you stick to the alleys then you should be able to make it to them. I assume you know where they’re being kept?”

The party nodded.

“Good, tell them that Nell gives you her blessing. That should at least make them more likely to listen to you.”

“Thank you,” Helbram said. He looked at the boy on the bed, “...and his name?”

The older woman looked at Helbram with confusion, but still spoke. “Daniel, why do you want to know?”

“It is good to know the names of the people you are fighting for,” Helbram said. It was an excuse, a cover for the other idea that was piecing together in his mind. From the way that Nell looked at him, he was not too sure that he had done a good job of it. Still, he kept that idea at the back of his head, feeling the shame of it steadily bleed into him, but he knew that he would have to use it if it came down to it.

“Looks like the patrols have moved on,” Leaf observed from the window. “We should be able to slip out now.”

“Is there a way for you to signal the other townsfolk to lock their doors?” Jahora asked. “Perhaps we can prevent them from taking any hostages that way.”

Nell pinched her chin and thought for a while. Her eyebrows eventually shot up. “I may have some idea, but it’ll take time to get across town.”

“It will take us a while yet to make it to the prisoners,” Helbram said, “Do what you can in the meantime, please.”

The apothecary gave the party a firm nod and left the room, keeping the door open behind her. Leaf and Jahora followed after her, but Helbram stayed behind. He looked back down at Daniel and took in the boy’s injured state. He memorized it, every single detail that bellowed the rage that was starting to build. Daniel twitched, still asleep, but the action produced a weak groan of pain.

“It… hurts…”

Helbram set his jaw and reached out to the boy. His fingers hovered just over his face, afraid that his touch would cause Daniel further harm. Instead, he closed them into a fist and tapped it against the headboard.

“You were brave,” Helbram said, “I will see that it gets its just reward, and…” The warrior placed his helmet back on. “I am sorry for what I must do.”

When he returned downstairs, he heard Leaf and Jahora snapping at each other in hushed whispers.

“What is going on?” Helbram asked.

“This fool wants to go off on his own,” Jahora hissed.

“There is more to the plan than that,” Leaf growled. He faced Helbram and held up a flare. “I nicked this from one of the bandits. I’ll run to the part of town furthest from the mines and set it off, that should pull the patrols far away from you.”

“Leaf,” Jahora snapped, “That’s-”

“This is not up for debate,” Leaf cut in, “We can’t do shite if they have their noses buried in our arses. I’m the fastest here, so I will draw them away, that’s final.”

The look in the archer’s eye told Helbram it would be a wasted effort to try and convince the man of another plan. That did not stop a gnawing guilt from mixing with the rage in his chest, however.

“The stables near the gate may be your best bet,” Helbram said.

Jahora looked at the warrior in shock. “Helbram! You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Helbram said, “the plan is sound and we are not blessed with many options. We…” he sighed, “We have to do everything in our power to ensure our plan succeeds.”

Leaf removed the storage device strapped to his back and handed it to Helbram. “You’re gonna have to carry a heavier burden for a bit.”

Helbram hung the barrel lid over his shoulders. “Not one as cumbersome as yours.” 

“Heh… I suppose that’s true. When you see the flare go off, break for the mine.”

Helbram placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Do not get yourself killed.”

Leaf snorted and cracked open the door. “A bit late to say something like that.”

Then, as swift as the wind, he was gone.

Chapter Eighteen

Jahora cracked open the door and peered out of it, her brow furrowed with worry.

“The only thing we can do now is trust him,” Helbram said. He noticed movement at the top of the steps and saw Nell at a window. A hooded lantern replaced the candle that she was holding, and she peered out of the window briefly before opening and closing the lantern’s cover in a rhythmic pattern. The healer looked back down the stairs and nodded at the two of them. Her message had been sent, and now it was up to them.

Helbram and Jahora exited the apothecary, returning to the alley they escaped from. They moved towards an intersection with another narrow street, one that granted them a better vantage of anything that could be fired into the sky.

The footsteps of another patrol soon echoed through the passageway, and the two of them took cover behind a pile of crates. The bandits that passed by appeared to be taking a much more cautious approach to their patrol, but their eyes snapped to the sky once a flare of red burst amongst the stars.

The bandits broke into a sprint, carrying them out of the alley and in the direction away from the mine. Helbram and Jahora waited for a short while to make sure no other foes were passing by, and when none did, they made haste towards the far end of Goldshire.

They kept to the alleys, cutting through the village’s buildings until they arrived just across the wall that sectioned the mine off from the rest of the village. Its height was only a foot shorter than the structure that surrounded the town’s perimeter, but it was without the walkway at its top. Helbram considered asking Jahora to enchant their boots for another leap, but the two guards at the mine’s entrance made him think otherwise. The bandits were tense, with one clutching his crossbow so hard that Helbram thought he could hear it creaking under the strain. The other also had his crossbow ready, but he kept a free hand that hovered over the flare strapped to his waist. It was clear that the slightest movement would set them off, and if he leapt over the wall, there was little chance he could interrupt them before they called for help.

He scanned the wall again to see if there was some other pathway he could take, but none revealed themselves. The pillar of light was still spearing into the sky, its brilliance all the more foreboding now that they were closer to it. Behind him, he heard a distance pop, and when he turned around, he saw Jahora staring at another flare that was shining in the sky. They didn’t have much time left.

“The guards are too far away to catch by surprise…” Helbram said.

Jahora peered out of the exit and, after giving it a moment of thought, walked deeper into the alley to begin casting a spell. Green Aether swirled around her and condensed into a glyph at her fingertips, the same one that she used to enchant their boots before. When the enchantment was fully formed, she motioned for Helbram to approach. He did, and the Mage applied the glyph to the bottom of his soles.

“This will work the same as before, but I put some more power behind it,” she explained, “I’d try a different spell, but there is no guarantee that I would be able to take out the two of them in one shot. If you were to close the distance, however…”

“Then I would either be able to eliminate them or delay them long enough for you to try something else, correct?” Helbram asked.

She nodded.

“That is a better plan than what I had.”

“Which was?”

“Nothing.” Helbram moved to the edge of the alley and looked back at her. “Just be ready.”

Jahora moved next to him and pressed up against the wall. The warrior took in a deep breath, steadied himself, and charged.

He hadn’t even made three steps before the guards noticed him. The rattle of his armor might as well have been thunder, for all their nerves were concerned, and it was not like his approach was a stealthy one. The bandits raised their crossbows, but before they could fire, Helbram activated the spell at the bottom of his feet. He put his shield in front of him as a burst of wind launched him off of the ground. Two thunks of bolts sinking into his shield bounced into his ears, which momentarily distracted him from the speed at which he flew. It was fast, too fast.

Helbram barely had his sword pointed ahead before he collided with the bandits. The blade punched through the first guard at his flank, and the momentum behind Helbram’s launch carried the both of them right into the second. The men smashed into the ground in a pile of thrashing limbs and choked cries, but before long only Helbram stood up. His vision was a mix of white and specs of black as pain seared from his shoulder and down his arm, but he grit his teeth and pulled his sword free. The blade had managed to sink into the second guard’s chest during their collision, leaving both the bandits lifeless on the dirt. He looked away from their lightless eyes and instead focused on the footsteps that pattered in from behind.

Jahora approached with a sorrowful expression. “Gods, Helbram I didn’t know-”

“It is fine,” Helbram grunted. He winced at the gruffness of his tone and put a comforting hand on Jahora’s shoulder. “We have more important things to worry about.”

The Mage gave him a concerned look, but did not say anything else as they made their way through the gate.

In contrast to the chaos that was sweeping through the town, the mines were quiet. Its confines were shrouded in shadow, with only a few areas illuminated by lamp posts that were spread a fair amount of distance from one another. Though most of the bandits were within the town proper, Helbram and Jahora spotted a few patrols wandering around the open area at the mine’s center. The lamps they carried made it easy to keep track of them, and this allowed the duo to avoid their notice by keeping to the darkness. 

The warehouse was situated towards the east. It was a large, bulky structure that was at least two stories in height that was constructed from a hardy mix of steel and stone. The building that covered the mine’s entrance was made of similar material and was just as tall. However, this one appeared to have no roof, evidenced by the pillar of light that shot up from the complex into the stars above. Even from the gate, Helbram could feel the air around him grow heavier, like it was actively trying to press onto him.

He and Jahora stuck to the perimeter of the mine’s wall and strayed away from the track that ran down the center of the mine directly towards the entrance into the mountain. Crates littered the rest of the open field, filled to the brim with abandoned ores and inert Aether crystals of differing colors. The stacks had begun to be occluded by the piles of stone around them, scattered about haphazardly in what was no doubt a rushed job.

Minecarts also littered the field. Most were filled with stone and the ones that weren’t were warped and twisted to the point that they were nothing but large hunks of scrap. It was no mystery as to what could have caused such a thing, but further evidence of the mountain’s volatility dotted the ground near its entrance in the form of craters that pocked the dirt at varying depths.

When the duo arrived just outside the warehouse they took cover behind an especially tall pile of crates. From their position, they spotted two guards at the entrance. Out of the corner of his eye, Helbram also noticed another bandit that disappeared around the building’s corner, no doubt walking the structure’s perimeter. A large padlock hung from the warehouse’s entrance, but it was the web of yellow energy that suffused through the building’s stone that gave him concern.

“It’s been warded,” Jahora whispered.

Helbram scanned the upper floor of the warehouse, seeing that same energy filling the windows as well.

“Marlin has been thorough…” he grumbled in a bitter tone, “Are you able to break the spell if we get to it?”

“Yes,” Jahora said, “but it will take some time.”

After she spoke, another flare soared into the sky from the town’s depths.

“We had best be quick,” Helbram said.

They stuck to the shadows as much as they could while pressing closer to the warehouse. A mess of broken minecarts and rock was within a stone’s throw of the doorway, and the two of them slipped behind it for cover. Helbram peered just barely over a minecart, noting that the guards here were much less tense. Their postures were almost relaxed, but they did keep a watchful eye in the area in front of the door that was illuminated by lamplight. The duo was at the edge of this area, staying just out of clear sight. Helbram waited for the bandit patrolling the warehouse’s perimeter to loop behind the building again before he looked back at Jahora.

The Mage was in the middle of preparing a spell. From the green light that she kept covered with her hands, it was most likely another wind enchantment, prompting Helbram to grab her shoulder. She gave him a questioning look and frowned when he shook his head. He pointed back at the two bandits to direct his companion’s gaze towards them, then focused her attention on the bandit that stood the furthest away from them before slamming his fist into his hand. Jahora nodded and placed her hands down to ready another spell, this one constructed of a pale blue light. It condensed into a small ball of energy that she kept focused on one of her fingertips, which quivered as the mage held the Aether in place. Helbram turned and reached for his club. When he could not find it, he remembered he dropped it back at the gate and bit back the curse forming on his lips. Resigned, he drew his sword and readied himself to leap from hiding. He raised his fingers and started to count them down.

Three…

Two…

One.

Jahora stood from cover and unleashed the Aether gathered at her finger as a bolt of pure force. It struck her target in the head and threw him back into the wall of the warehouse before he collapsed onto the dirt as a motionless heap. The suddenness of the assault made the remaining guard freeze with a fixation on his fallen comrade. It made him oblivious to Helbram, who had leapt from cover the same time Jahora made her attack. The warrior closed the distance between him and the bandit in a few strides, and before the thief could regain his wits Helbram drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s jaw. The blow carried the momentum of Helbram’s charge, resulting in a crack before the guard fell to the ground, still. 

Jahora ran to the door, hands already moving and yellow Aether swirling around her head. She placed her hands just in front of the entrance and let the energy seep into the ward. While she worked, Helbram walked to the corner of the warehouse and pressed against the wall. He listened for the sound of approaching footsteps, tensing as they started to close in. The light of the approaching patrol’s lantern grew steadily brighter, and the warrior raised his sword just as it was about to round the corner. Once the barest amount of the bandit was visible, he brought his sword down and slammed the pommel into the man’s temple. His unsuspecting foe crumpled, but Helbram managed to snatch the lantern out of his hands before it struck the ground. The guard was motionless, but still breathing. The warrior went to sheath his sword, but an impulse jutted itself to the forefront of his mind.

The bandits were neutralized, but unconsciousness was only a temporary state. With them so close to their goal, the easier, more logical choice would be to eliminate the threat permanently. It was a thought that he did not think would be so prominent, but its presence also made his ribs and shoulder throb, a reminder of the consequences of his previous mercy.

His blade shook during that moment of consideration, but he returned it back to its sheath. Despite everything, his morality refused to relinquish its grip over his heart.

He looked around to make sure no other patrols were approaching, and after confirming that Jahora was still working on the ward, he pulled out the last of his rope. Mimicking the knots and restraints that Leaf had done for the others, Helbram bound the unconscious bandits and dragged them behind the warehouse, where they would hopefully remain unfound. He searched their bodies and found a key in their possession, one that most likely went to the padlock at the door. By the time that he returned to the entrance, Jahora’s work was done.

A faint pulse of Aether flowed from the Mage’s fingers, seeping into the web of energy that infused the building. The injection of power washed away the ward in a wave, leaving only the padlock on the door as the remaining barrier to entry. It let out a heavy click as Helbram twisted the key inside of it and released, allowing the door to creak open. The duo looked around the area one final time before slipping into the warehouse.

It was dark. Any moonlight that strayed in from the outside was blocked by stacks of barrels, crates, and other sundries that most likely had some purpose related to mining. There were multiple pathways on the upper floor that trailed over the bottom of the warehouse, and to their fortune no patrols appeared to be walking them. The chaos within the town was gone, replaced by a veil of silence that grew heavier with each breath. The sounds of their footsteps thudding against the wooden floor broke it momentarily, but it always returned to sit on their shoulders. They navigated the stacks of supplies and pushed towards the center of the building, where the prisoners waited.

The sight of them should have brought Helbram relief, but their lack of reaction instead placed a sinking feeling in his chest. Bright, hopeful faces were a fool’s dream, but the utter dejection in their downcast eyes and slumped shoulders was not something that he was prepared for. The size of the crowd was a consolation; it was large, a mix of the adventurers from the convoy and able-bodied villagers. All of their hands were unbound as well, but even unrestrained they appeared to be frozen to the ground, nearly motionless in their slumped postures. 

Only one of them looked up at their approach, an older man with gray overtaking his brown hair and beard. Helbram recognized him as the one in the convoy that was wearing brigandine, one of the experienced adventurers who fought until he was knocked unconscious. Fatigue had sunken his eyes in, but surprise soon replaced it once his sights were upon them. 

“I know you… you were with the convoy.”

Heads rose at the man’s words, a tide of attention that focused in on Helbram and Jahora. Confusion rested in most of the faces that looked at them, but there were the beginnings of something else amongst them, something that did not inspire hope.

“You… you’re armed,” one of the prisoners said.

Desperation gave way to confusion and another of the captives clambered to them.

“You have to get us out of here,” another urged, “we’ll all be blown to the hells in those damn mines if we don’t leave.”

That plea was the spark to murmurs, a cacophony of panic and anguish that burned through the prisoners like an inferno. Words strangled one another as they let loose with their troubles in a cloud of indecipherable speech and fear. Helbram stepped back from it all, his heart heavy at the sight.

“All of you, quiet!” the older man barked, “Shite all is goin’ to be done if you badger them like this.”

The command splashed over the men and women like a bucket of cold water, but they went silent. They still lingered around Helbram and Jahora, and the older man had to push through them to get to the duo. When he did, he held his hands out to both of them.

“Garuf,” he grunted.

The two took his hands and gave them a firm shake. Garuf’s grip was strong and they could see that hardiness had not left the man’s spirit.

“Helbram,” the warrior said, “and I am afraid that my intentions are not of escape.”

“What? The hells do you mean by that?!”

Another man pushed through the crowd. He was not as old as Garuf, but there was a weathered look to the wrinkles on his stubbled face. Helbram could see from his worn shirt and pants that the man was most likely one of the townsfolk, and his hardy build suggested that he was one of the miners before Goldshire was occupied. The man’s agitated question signaled a wave of outrage to start surging through the prisoners, but Garuf silenced it by raising his hand.

“Hear them out,” he growled.

Helbram looked through the crowd and saw only fear within its members. He bit back the sigh forming at his lips and straightened his shoulders. “I mean exactly what I said. I have not come here offering aid, but rather, seeking it.”

He pointed towards the front window of the warehouse, directing the prisoners’ attention to the pillar of light standing stark amidst the darkness. “So long as the barrier remains in place, escape is not an option. More importantly…” he pointed towards the mountain behind the pillar, “should the mining continue, it is very possible that the Golden Peak itself will explode with magical energies.”

“Bullshite,” the man from the crowd spat. He rubbed a smudge on his cheek, one of many marks that dotted his clothes and body from what must have been weeks of labor. “First you’re tellin’ us that you’re not here to help us flee and then you go off with this nonsense. A blood mountain exploding?!” There was a fire to the man’s voice, one fueled by a bitterness that had just begun to stir. “Why come here at all? Did you think you could just walk in here and tell us to fight like some godsdamned heroes? What good did that do for the lot of you that were brought in only a week ago?”

Several of the crowd turned their gazes to the ground, and Helbram could feel trembles quivering through the people around him.

“We speak the truth!” Jahora countered. “Surely you must have noticed. The rocks bursting from energy, the mountain itself glowing and shaking more and more with every passing day. Whatever is happening within the mines can’t just be overlooked as some trick of the light!” Frustration was starting to build in the Mage’s tone.

Silence was the crowd’s answer. It hung over them like a shroud, lifting once Garuf started to speak.

“It’s as she says, you all know it to be true,” he said, “None of us may be spellcasters but it doesn’t take a scholar to tell when somethin’ doesn’t feel right, and there is nothin’ right about this whole affair.”

“So what?” the dissenter growled. “Even if it were true, what are we to do about it? Fight the bandits with our bare ha-”

Jahora pulled the storage device from her back and gave the mechanism a twist before throwing it at the prisoners’ feet. Blue orbs of light spilled from the barrel lid and scattered across the ground like marbles before shifting into the forms of crossbows, bows, spears, daggers, clubs, and axes. Helbram followed suit with the two devices that he carried, unleashing a pile of armor with some shields from one and countless arrows and bolts from the other. With each new armament and piece of gear, he could see the backs of the crowd start to straighten.

Jahora rolled her shoulders. “That’s a load off my back…” she muttered.

Helbram’s own shoulders felt the same amount of relief as his companion’s, and he showed his agreement by patting her on the back. He looked back over the crowd. “It will not be enough to fully equip all of you, but it will be far better than nothing.”

Garuf snorted. “So, you’re the reason the bandit’s numbers have been thinnin’. They’ve been tryin’ to hide it, but here I thought it was because they were squarin’ up for another raid.”

“That doesn’t change anythin’.” The dissenter voiced, but his tone was starting to grow strained. “The number of them… we don’t have a chance.”

“Many of them are injured to the point that they will not be able to fight,” Helbram explained, “We have managed to lure a large portion of them outside of the village as well.”

“And locked the gate,” Jahora said with a hint of pride, “No one is going to be able to get through that for the time being.”

The man opened his mouth to speak again.

“If you are concerned about their leader, he is also out there with them,” Helbram interjected. “However, time is of the essence. We do not know how long we have, so if we are going to act, we need to hurry.”

“Hurry to our deaths!” the dissenter yelled. Helbram moved to say something, but was stopped by the tears pouring down the man’s face. His voice was weak, squeezed through a jaw clenched by unfathomable frustration. “You don’t know what we’ve been through. You haven’t seen what they’re capable of… Do you think we haven’t thought of fighting back, haven’t tried? We have, over and over again, and each time that damned quetali put us down so easily, so effortlessly. Then the Mage… that damned Mage made sure to punish those who rose up, but not directly. My son… my son didn’t deserve…” his voice cut off with a choke and weeps took the place of words. Pity settled in Helbram’s mind, but more than that was the dread rising back up in his gut when he saw the prisoner’s shy away from the weapons.

He looked to Jahora for assistance, but she too was at a loss for words and could only look down at the ground. The crowd could sense this and receded back to their spots amongst the crates. Gone was the hope from their eyes, replaced by blank stares into nothing. Helbram closed his eyes and felt loathing steep into his soul. A hatred for the words he next said.

“Your son’s name, it is Daniel, yes?”

The dissenter’s head snapped up at the mention of the boy. “It is… how-”

“He is under Nell’s care,” Helbram explained, “he is alive.”

“I didn’t… they didn’t let me see him after… oh gods, he’s alive. My boy is alive.”

“Yes, but he is under a great deal of pain,” Helbram explained.

The father’s eyes widened in fear at the news.

Despicable.

“He is strong, holding on as hard as he can. But… so long as the bandits remain, I cannot say that he will be able to recover.”

Who are you to say this?

“Your son is fighting as hard as he can, but he needs more time. Should the thieves continue as they are, I do not think that he will be allowed that.”

Fiend.

Helbram looked past the father and to the rest of the captives.

“I know not the words that will banish fear from your hearts,” he told them, his voice growing soft, “nor do I have a speech that will grant you the blind courage to push your worries aside. It is true, I have not had your struggles, your tragedies, nor your punishments. Yet… what I can say to you is that if you do nothing, if you give in to their whims, if you allow them to torment into continued subservience, then you will be walking the path of a slow, but sure death.”

He walked up to the crowd.

“Perhaps I ask too much… In fact, I know I do, for this is something no man nor woman should have to bear. But I ask you of it all the same, for if you do not act, it is not just you that you have condemned.”

He clenched his jaw and looked back at Daniel’s father.

“You will have doomed the fate of all those that lie within this village, people that I know you cherish. If you do not wish to fight for yourselves, then I ask that you think of them and make your decision. I… I myself choose to fight, for I would rather struggle at a chance at life than let doubt lead me into the jaws of death.”

None look up at his words.

Garuf moved to Daniel’s father and placed a hand on his back. “Come now Daren, sit down and clear your head.”

The man nodded and walked past Helbram without meeting his eyes. He joined the prisoners and stared off at a distant wall.

Garuf approached Helbram and clasped his hand. “I can’t speak for the others, but I will join you.”

Helbram shook the man’s hand. “I thank you, we will be outside when you are ready.”

The older adventurer moved to the piles of equipment and started to sift through them. Jahora looked at him and then the prisoners, eyes hopeful as she scanned for any movement. When none came, her expression began to falter. Helbram tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to follow him.

“We should go.” He tried to hide the defeat in his voice.

They were silent as they made their way to the warehouse’s entrance. In truth, Helbram did not know what to feel in that moment. Should he be dejected that the prisoners would not help? Should he be relieved that his manipulations didn’t spur a man to charge into danger? Should he feel disgust at that relief, at the fact that he resorted to such methods in the first place? He didn’t know, and that ambiguity was on the verge of driving him mad.

Jahora appeared to sense his turmoil and looked up at him.

“Well, I thought it was a fine speech,” she said in a confident tone.

Helbram snorted. “Was it now? I was starting to think my words were as good as my magic.”

“Nonsense. It was one for the books… if we make it out.”

“Indeed.”

The Mage’s expression fell. “What do we do now?”

He sighed. “Cause as big of a commotion as we can… how do you feel about destroying ancient technology?”

Jahora tapped her chin. “It is going to be a shame, but at same time, the fireball will be stupendous.”

They managed a laugh at that and proceeded to the door. Helbram tried to ignore the hollowness in his chest. When his hand met the handle, he paused when he saw Jahora go tense.

“Magic,” she whispered.

Helbram nodded and posted up on the side of the door.

“I know you’re there. Come out or I’ll just break down the wall,” a voice said. Its arrogant tone told Helbram that it was Marlin speaking.

Neither of the duo answered the man’s provocation.

“I suppose the safety of the prisoners is of no concern to you, then?”

Helbram lowered his head and looked at Jahora. He held his hand out for her to stay. Before she could respond, he opened the door and stepped out, hands raised.

Marlin stood a few paces away from the building, flanked by two bandits. One wielded a crossbow and the other rested a greatsword on his shoulder. The halfling Mage had the sleeves of his robes rolled back, revealing arms marked by tattoos of symbols Helbram did not recognize. They glowed with a sickly blue Aether, matching the light that poured from the Circle that spun around his head. Scores of other bandits were behind him, their numbers uncountable amidst the lamplight.

Marlin’s face was impassive as he looked over Helbram. “The Mage too. I don’t think someone like you could have broken my ward.”

Helbram tried to say something, but Marlin snapped a hand at him. His tattoos flared with light and the warrior felt a presence stab into his mind. He froze; his body unable to respond to any of his intent. Not even a finger twitched when he willed his hand to move to his sword, and he could do nothing as Jahora emerged from the warehouse, her hands also raised in surrender.

With another flick of his wrist Marlin put Jahora under that same spell, freezing her in place. “Kill the armored one, we’ll question the gnome.”

The bandit with the greatsword grunted and readied his weapon. He marched towards Helbram, bloodlust clear in his eyes. The thief raised the blade above his head, and Helbram could not even close his eyes to accept his fate.

The blow, however, never came. Instead, a bolt flew from behind and pierced the bandit in the eye. He collapsed to the ground in a heap that pooled blood onto the dirt.

“You missed one!” Garuf yelled from within the warehouse.

Marlin’s expression remained unchanged. “It appears I did.” He motioned for the bandits behind him to move forward.

The men obeyed and surged towards the building. A hail of arrows and bolts flew from above to stop their charge. The front line collapsed as they were pelted with projectiles, and a laugh echoed out from the building.

“Oh, by the way,” Garuf said, “I lied.”

Footsteps thundered from behind Helbram, quick and with purpose. The prisoners charged past him under the cover of arrows and bolts until their numbers were great enough to flank both Helbram and Jahora. He recognized the man that stood next to him, the one who voiced his doubts over and over again. The one who had a son lying in bed, waiting for his father, now clad in leather armor and wielding an axe. Relief and guilt clashed in Helbram’s heart, but he pushed both to the side and steeled himself for what was to come.

Fury flared in Daren’s eyes and burned away any remaining uncertainty. He thrust his weapon at the bandits and roared.

“Attack!”

Chapter Nineteen

Conflict brushed past Helbram in a tide. The sudden rush of the villagers and adventurers pressed the bandits onto the back foot. They lost ground against their once prisoners’ advance and could only spit curses or scream while projectiles rained from the second floor of the warehouse. Helbram, in the midst of all the mayhem, was still frozen in place. Whatever spell Marlin cast over him kept a firm leash over the faculties that would have allowed him to move. Tried as he might to push his will against it, his efforts bore no fruit as he watched Marlin retreat to the rear of the brigands’ ranks. Arrows had been loosed at the enemy spellcaster, but they deflected off the ethereal shield that covered him in a dome of pale blue light. When he had the majority of the thieves between him and the newly formed coalition, Marlin swiveled around and raised his hand.

Three Circles appeared around the caster’s head and Helbram felt the air start to chill. Jahora, still immobile as well, twitched the moment the sensation began and her eyes flared in panic. It was a strong enough response that her fingers flinched, and once Helbram saw the red-colored Aether swirling around Marlin’s Circles, he knew why.

A bead of fire formed over the villagers, no bigger than one of the stars in the night’s sky. The people fighting below it were completely unaware of its presence, too preoccupied by the fury that pressed them further into the battle they were embroiled in. Helbram thrashed against the shackles clamped onto his mind, but despite his struggles only a singular twitch moved his arm. The bead above them swelled and in a breath, it would burst into an inferno that would engulf all of them in chaos and flames.

An arrow flew in from the direction of the town, striking Marlin in his arm. The spellcaster cried out in pain and his hold over the restraining spell broke. Helbram and Jahora nearly fell to the ground once they were freed of their mental bindings, but caught themselves before they lurched too far forward. Helbram righted himself up and was about to warn the coalition of the incoming fireball, but Jahora took a more expedient approach. The Mage’s hands snapped up and let loose a burst of green Aether from her palms. The energy swirled into a gale and wrapped around the bead at the moment of its explosion. Fire surged into the night sky, its brilliance almost matching the pillar of light that claimed dominion over the stars. Heat followed in a surge of warmth, blasting away the chill that had crept over them.

The villagers and adventurers were unharmed, but the explosion drew the eyes of all the combatants. Such a distraction lasted for only a few seconds, and the sounds of battle returned in their chaotic cadence. Jahora, for all her efforts, fell to her knees once the fire vanished. The Circles around her head faded away and her chest heaved with every breath.

“That… was… close…” she labored to say.

“You need time to recover,” Helbram said. He looked back at the continued conflict ahead of them. “Let us push them back while you catch your breath.” He set his jaw as he saw multiple flares fly and burst into the sky. “It is going to be a long night.”

Jahora nodded and retreated to the warehouse. She was passed by Garuf, who was stowing his crossbow in favor of wielding an axe. The older adventurer was garbed in a mishmash of hide and pieces of leather, which had brought a scowl to his already grizzled features.

“One of these bastards stole my armor,” he muttered, “I’m gonna find ‘em.”

“We need to clear out the men here, first,” Helbram said. “Reinforcements are on the way, and they will not be ours.” He pointed to the flares in the sky.

Garuf grunted. “Aye, but we won’t be able to do shite if that bastard gets another spell off.”

A cry of pain cut through the roar of battle. Helbram peered through the bandits’ ranks and saw that another arrow had struck Marlin, this time through the leg. A bellow followed after, heralding the arrival of a large figure that crashed into the enemy’s flank. Its bulky figure and furred hide revealed it to be an auroc, but more noticeable was the one that was riding on its back.

Leaf gripped onto the bovine’s fur and shouted something that Helbram couldn’t quite make out to the beast. It appeared to spur the auroc further on, and the thieves could do nothing while its charge trampled them underfoot and scattered them. Once the beast cut through them entirely, Leaf gripped the auroc by its horns and turned its head to direct it behind the gathered coalition, who were using the disruption to push forward even more. When they were fully away from the enemy, the archer pulled the bovine’s head back.

“Woah!” he shouted. The beast slowed down and he hopped to the ground. Helbram ran up to them and saw that there was a chip to one of the auroc’s small horns, as well as a scar across her eye.

“She is-”

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” Leaf cut in, “but I think that’s all the girl’s got in her for tonight.” He slapped the auroc on the rear. “Go on! Get out of here! The only thing you are right now is a big target!”

The bovine was reluctant in her movements at first, but with another slap by Leaf she bellowed and ran off into the darkness.

Helbram shook his head to reorient his thoughts and grabbed his companion by the arm. “I need you to keep Marlin occupied while we fight off the bandits.”

Leaf readied his bow and nocked an arrow. “Already on it.” He spun around and loosed the projectile over the enemy ranks. The spellcaster was prepared this time and had his barrier up to block the shot. Leaf readied another arrow, but took an opportunity to look around.

“Where’s Jahora?” he asked.

“Resting,” Helbram explained, “We shall have to carry the burden for a bit.”

The archer nodded. “Then let's get to it.” He loosed a steady stream of arrows towards Marlin, forcing him to focus on defense.

Helbram took the opening to join up with Garuf and the other men. The bandits were still scattered following the auroc’s charge, allowing the older adventurer to take command and reorganize the coalition’s furious, but sloppy charge.

“Shieldbearers!” He roared, “Up front!”

Helbram drew his sword and shield. He considered swapping their grips so that he could have his uninjured arm bolstering his guard. However, when he saw that the fighters wielding similar armaments did not match such a stance, he resigned his shoulder to further punishment. He joined up with the other shieldbearers, all of whom were the more experienced adventurers, and took position at their center. The rest of the coalition spread enough to let them through, and they managed to form a defensive line before the brigands could reorganize.

Helbram recognized Daren as one of the people that were fighting at the front and felt relief when the man stepped behind them during their advance. Fury drove the father, but it had not consumed him.

The thieves, finally under some semblance of reorganization, made an attempt to push against the shield wall. Their efforts were in vain, for the shieldbearers granted them no quarter.

“With me!” Helbram shouted. The rush of combat had fully taken over, and the stinging of his shoulder was nothing but a distant ache for the time being.

“Push!” He yelled, the order surging through the line in a wave. The men stepped forward in sync and shoved their shields forward, pressing the bandits back and ripping open the guards of their front line.

“Attack!” He commanded. Axe, sword, and spear swept out and cleaved into the thieves, felling a few and wounding more. The shieldbearers brought their guards back into position right after. Helbram knew that their movements were not perfect, and paled in comparison to a professional army, but the men at his side held enough experience under their belts to put the brigands to shame.

“Archers!” Garuf barked, “focus the rear! Bleed the bastards dry!”

Arrows and bolts flew from the warehouse and overheard, pelting the back of the bandit’s formation. The thieves let loose with a volley of their own, but their shots found no purchase against the stone walls of the building. The enemy began to shoot at the coalition's back ranks, wounding, but not felling, some of the men and women. Tried as they might to turn that into some measure of momentum, they still could not press back the advancing front line.

Marlin made multiple attempts to cast a spell, but each time a surge of energy and light gathered around him it was smothered by another arrow loosed from Leaf. Any visage of control the man had before was gone, and his curses got progressively louder the more manic his expression grew.

The bandits faltered under the coalition’s focused advance. Many that were at their front stumbled to the ground and were stomped over by the shield wall before they were finished off by the men and women that followed. The pressure was too much for the thieves, and at the height of their growing panic their formation broke. The brigands scattered and ran for the gate, leaving Marlin exposed.

Outnumbered as he was, the caster stood firm, his eyes alight with rage. Red Aether swirled around his Circles and fire ignited in his palms. Leaf loosed another arrow, but Marlin didn’t bother to block it this time and took the shot to his shoulder. The caster grunted in pain but maintained concentration over his spell. A chill swept across the coalition again, and Helbram felt it trail up his spine. 

He charged forward and tucked himself behind his shield as best he could, colliding with Marlin just as he unleashed his spell. A gout of continuous flame surged against the warrior’s shield and forced him back. Helbram dug his feet into the ground and pressed against the magic deflecting off of his guard. Heat seared through the entirety of his body and his shoulder screeched with pain through the rush that he was feeling before. His hands trembled under the force of Marlin’s spell, fueled by an anger that burned through the halfling’s screams.

Aether swelled in the caster’s fingers and Leaf loosed another arrow. It was a shot that was most likely aimed at Marlin’s throat, but the surge of energy, fire, and wind around the caster pushed the projectile off course. It sank into Marlin’s thigh, but he showed little reaction and finished his spell. He clutched his hands into fists, ending the gout of flames with a final burst of fire and energy that struck Helbram like a bull.

The warrior’s arm ripped back and his vision went white as his shoulder was torn open. A scream formed at the back of his mouth, but he smothered it with a clenched jaw and let adrenaline surge through him once again. His sword shook from his tightening grip and he lunged at Marlin, but another spell had already formed in the caster’s hands. Helbram swung his weapon, but the blade never connected once Marlin unleashed his magic. Raw power exploded from the caster and slammed into Helbram’s chest. The warrior was torn from the ground and sent crashing into the shield wall, who collapsed trying to catch him and absorb the force that washed over them.

Marlin reached into his robes and pulled out a vial filled with a bright red liquid, a potion. Leaf readied another arrow, but before he could release it the caster snapped his fingers. Blinding light erupted from halfling and glared over the coalition, forcing everyone to avert their eyes. When their vision cleared, Marlin was gone.

“Fuck!” Leaf spat, “Where did that little shite go?!”

Helbram tried to push himself off of the ground, but a twinge in his shoulder made him stop. He reached under his armpit and felt moisture on the cloth and mail that covered it. Blood would soon be dripping down his arm, but there was little time to address that. Keeping off of his injured side, he stood up and let the groan that was building rumble in his throat. The rest of the men that fell over got to their feet as well, but any time they may have had to lick their wounds vanished when shouting belted in from the entrance of the mine. The bandits had gathered with the patrols that came from the village and were moving back towards them in a formation.

“There are too many to fight out in the open,” Helbram said, “It would be better to set up a defensive position.”

“The warehouse?” Garuf suggested.

Helbram shook his head. “While sturdy, it would pack us in too tightly, and Marlin would have no issues bringing the building down on us. We need some place that he would not so easily destroy…” He turned to the pillar of light, or rather, the two storied structure that was wrapped around it. “There.”

Garuf followed Helbram’s attention and caught wind of his idea immediately. “Come on men! With me!” He directed the coalition towards the building, but Helbram and Leaf remained at the rear guard.

The bandits were within arrow distance and let loose a volley that rained down on those towards the back of the coalition’s formation. Helbram kept himself protected with his shield and armor while Leaf managed to get behind cover, but many were struck by projectiles and fell to the ground. None were still, however, and kept trying to push towards the building. The thieves, seeing blood, sent a group ahead of their main formation to finish off the wounded. Their rush was fueled by a mix of rage and glee, eager to sate their bloodlust.

Helbram charged at the oncoming assailants. Leaf shared his intent and sent two arrows whizzing past the warrior and into two of the brigands. The shots were not lethal, but it broke up their ranks enough for Helbram to barrel into them at full force. He ignored the pain in his shoulder and rammed into one of the thieves with his shield, toppling the man over before the warrior lunged at the closest bandit. His sword whipped through the air and cleaved an assailant’s neck, but as his foe fell another moved to take his place. The brigand rushed at Helbram with an axe poised to strike his side. The warrior caught the blow at an angle, making the weapon bounce off of the metal face of his shield. Helbram stepped in afterwards and sliced through the thief’s thigh before bringing his sword back up and across his foe’s chest.

Another arrow flew past the warrior and hit an oncoming thief right in the chest to bring him down. One of the ones that was shot earlier finally got within melee, but it was clear that he was tolerating his wound far worse than Helbram was with his own. The warrior rushed the injured bandit and cut him down with a slash to the face. With the last of the rushers coming at him, he lowered his shield to bait the brigand into swinging at his exposed guard. Helbram deflected the oncoming short sword with his blade and stepped into the created opening. He flicked his wrist around and landed a blow against the thief’s armpit before sweeping one of his legs out from under him with a low kick. The bandit stumbled into the dirt, and with how deep a wound that Helbram left, he would not be rising again.

The coalition’s stragglers were still struggling to catch up to the rest of the formation, even with assistance from those falling behind to help them up. The brigands were catching up, and Helbram braced himself to try and somehow hold back their ranks.

Just as he slipped into a stance, the air in front of the thieves started to twist and bend. It warped into a distorted, translucent shape before slamming onto itself. The impact produced a clap of thunder and a blast of concussive force that knocked the bandit’s ranks off of their feet. Their struggle to get back up halted their advance.

“Well… I can’t say that was much of a rest…”

Jahora emerged from behind a pile of rubble off to the side. A haggard expression still lingered within her eyes, but she was no longer wobbling when she met up with Helbram and Leaf. 

“Come on then, we need to hurry,” she said.

The two men joined the Mage in catching up to the rest of the coalition, who had started to funnel into the building at the mountain’s entrance. They helped the stragglers forward and made sure they got into the building first before slipping in themselves. The shield wall from before was posted up at the entrance, forming an impromptu blockade under the arch that lacked a door. Helbram guided an injured man to the rest of the wounded. They were off to the side and swapping their melee weapons for bows and crossbows. Some were in too much pain to act, but most of the injured limped their way to the stairs. Resolve was alight in their eyes, and it may have been the sole thing that drove them forward.

He spotted Daren amongst the uninjured, but the man now had a spear instead of an axe and was moving to bolster the back of the shield wall. Helbram knew that it was foolish of him to try and keep track of the man in the midst of such a chaotic battle, but his conscience kept making him do it. It was a selfish drive, a notion that told him if Daren survived, then maybe his manipulations would be justified.

He took in a deep breath to clear his mind and looked past the defensive line. The brigands, so eager to nip at their heels before, had retreated once again when the shooters from the second story started to pelt them with arrows. They stood just out of range and, given the panicked noises that came from their position, were still in the midst of trying to come up with a plan of attack. They had been given a small window of rest.

Once Helbram was sure of that, he finally noticed the density of the air that was settled around his shoulders. Gooseflesh prickled his skin and the hair at the back of his neck stood up once he was aware of the steady throb that pulsed through the building. Waves of what he assumed to be power washed over the men and the bare confines of the structure, filling its stone foundations and columns with a presence that started to suffocate Helbram the more he focused on it. He could smell a sharp, clean scent to the air, no doubt from the mass of energy around him.

He turned to the source of that power, the Ruhian construct that fired the pillar of pale blue light into the sky. It was a construct of stone with bits of metal that sat at the very center of the building’s ground floor. The base of the device was a ring of gold with multiple square stones that slid along its rails while energy poured into the construct. On the faces of the stone were circles of various sizes and completeness linked together by lines. Though Helbram had no idea what they meant, he knew the symbols to be of Ruhian runic script. From there, he could infer that whatever enchantment was inscribed was likely the source of the light in the sky, and in turn the shield that blocked Goldshire from the rest of the world. 

The pillar of energy itself was of raw Aether, power that was focused into its shape by the large stone rails that shot up from the device. Their design narrowed at the top, and though there were no runes inscribed on their faces, Helbram could see some symbols blaring with light within the lining of its construction. The construct was at least three times as tall as Helbram, which made Jahora, who was at the base of the artifact, appear all the smaller.

He walked up to the Mage and knelt down next to her, hoping to get some idea of what she was studying.

“Have you found anything out?” Helbram asked.

“Yes, it uses a shite load of energy,” Jahora answered, her tone blunt. “More than that, I can make out a few runes that may let me exert some measure of control over the device.”

“Enough to shut it down?”

She shook her head. “Nothing so gentle, I’m afraid. And here I thought it would be as simple as flipping a lever…”

“I see… then we will have to keep that as a last resort.”

“Agreed.” The Mage took in a deep breath and her two Circles reappeared back around her head, brimming with a newfound brilliance. Her weariness appeared to be washed away as well, like she’d shaken off a massive headache.

“You appear to be doing better,” he said.

“The artifact has saturated the air with Aether,” Jahora explained. “It will make wielding it for my magic much easier since it's so readily available…” Her brow furrowed. “More importantly, how is your shoulder? Don’t think I didn’t see you favoring it earlier.”

“Functional,” he grunted. “You and Leaf need to head to the second floor. It will be a much better vantage point. See if you can thin their numbers before they close in.”

Doubt was still in the Mage’s eyes, but she turned and made her way to the stairs.

“Jahora.”

She looked back.

“Keep an eye out for Marlin. If this place is so rich in Aether he will no doubt try to use it to strike at us when we least suspect it.”

Jahora nodded and scanned over the ground floor before running up the stairs. She shouted for Leaf, who was in the middle of restocking his arrows from some of the other archers. Upon noticing her call, he shared a look with Helbram and followed her up to the second floor.

Once he was sure that his companions were in position, Helbram’s attention turned to himself. He tried to raise his shield, but once it was chest high the pain in his shoulder flared to such a degree that he could not hold his arm up and let it fall. Though he was thankful for the rest, the rush of battle had faded from him and he could feel more and more pain from his wounded limb. He did his best to push that pain to the side, to focus on something else, and it was then that he felt a presence at the back of his mind. That of the claymore he had stored with the aid of Jahora’s magic. In the midst of such an area saturated by Aether, it might have been possible to…

He put his hand out and reached towards the presence in his mind. His intent wrapped around it, but before it pulled he let his hand fall and shook his head. Now was not the time to entertain impossible dreams. There was a battle to be won.

He made his way to the defensive line. Past the perimeter, the bandits were gathered and attempting to attack once again. They had formed an impromptu shield wall of their own, bolstered with scattered scrap and pieces of mining equipment that littered the dirt. Despite the ridiculous appearance, it proved to be effective enough to shrug off the hail of volleys that the men of the upper floors unleashed. Their advance was slow, but unimpeded. Jahora attempted to stall them with a spell similar to the last one she cast, but the brigands were already braced for impact once the distortion formed in front of them. The resulting shockwave crashed against the bolstered formation, and other than a brief pause, the thieves continued to get closer.

Helbram grit his teeth and swapped his shield to his good arm, but before he could join the line Garuf stopped him with a hand against his breastplate.

“Best not to do that,” the older adventurer said.

“But-”

“If you hold your shield like that you’ll be creatin’ a gap, and I don’t think that other shoulder of yours is gonna be any good at keeping them back.”

Helbram started to protest again, but Garuf cut him off by handing him a spear.

“Better for you to start thinnin’ their ranks while we do that, eh?”

Helbram looked at the spear in his hand and, with a heavy sigh, stowed his shield onto his back. “And here I thought us younglings were to bear the burdens for our elders.”

Garuf scoffed. “These bones have life in them yet. No bandit is gonna rob them of that this day.” He clasped Helbram on his good arm. “I won’t say no to an ale later, once we’re out of this mess.”

Helbram snorted and put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “That can be arranged.”

Garuf stepped away and took position at the center of the shield wall. Helbram gripped his spear to keep most of the burden off of his bleeding arm and slipped into a spot that would allow him to thrust between Garuf and the man at his side. The bandits were much closer now, near enough to break into a charge. Their shields were still raised, and those at the front now wielded spears of their own.

“Brace!” Garuf shouted. The front line obeyed, tucking themselves behind their shields and thrusting their spears out. The men gripped the weapons at the very bottom of the shaft to make sure that their tips were as far out as possible. 

Helbram readied himself, poised to strike at any foe about to break through.

In the face of this, the bandits abandoned order in favor of fervor. Their front line skewered themselves on the spears before they could even get in range to make an attack. The shield wall dropped their weapons and let them fall with their victims. In place of their spears, the defensive line drew short swords and readied themselves for the rest of the thieves to arrive. 

The second wave stumbled over their fallen comrades and crashed into the shield wall in a haphazard charge. Helbram and the other spearmen at his side thrusted their spears out from behind the line, stabbing at any bandit that looked like they were pushing through. Spearheads were stained red under their constant assault, and from working in conjunction with the men of the shield wall, the ranks of the thieves thinned.

Arrows and bolts rained down upon the brigands from above. Without the cover of their shield wall, the shots dropped the enemy numbers even more. Another distortion formed at the center of their broken formation and exploded into a shockwave that ripped through them. The spell scattered the bandits enough that they were forced to retreat once again.

There was no time for celebration, for the front line did not emerge from the battle unscathed. The men at the shield wall sported new wounds, and many of them were grievous enough that a third of the line fell to their knees. They were pulled back and swapped arms with less injured, but less experienced, men. A brave face was worn amongst the newcomers, but Helbram could see the trembles in their hands.

He looked past the line and towards the entrance of the mine, anticipating another flood of bandit reinforcements. To his chagrin, his expectations were realized. More of the brigands funneled into the mine, their numbers far more than before. At their head was their commander, alight with a blood red aura that flared with the excited look in his eyes.

“Yes, yes!” he roared. “This is how it should be! Let the strongest prove their mettle!”

The quetali sprinted ahead of his men, a surge of dark red Ether bleeding from his body. His troops lagged behind his sprint towards the front, but that did little to deter the furious grin on his face. The shield wall quaked from the sight, but despite their fear they stood firm. Helbram saw that any wounds the commander may have had from their previous encounter were gone. He tried, and failed, to smother the dread that revelation brought.

A stream of projectiles rained down on the commander once he closed in, but this did little to stop his momentum. The quetali’s four swords flashed in front of him in silver streaks that batted the arrows and bolts aside. Any shots that did make it through bounced off of his hardened skin, bolstered by the power surging through him. What did bring his assault to a stop was the bolt of Aether flung at him from above. The commander planted his feet and reared one of his swords back. Its blade flared with red energy and the quetali swung it against the magical projectile. A sharp crack tore through the air as the bolt was swatted aside, but the commander slid back from the impact. His grin widened even further and he looked up at the second story.

Right at the source of the magic.

The quetali stomped on the ground, infusing his leg with a surge of Ether. The dirt beneath him cracked and he soared into the air towards the upper floor. A crash followed, then screams.

Helbram turned from the front line and sprinted to the stairs. Panic rose in his chest, but he smothered it with purpose. His spear was readied when he crested the top step, but fell to his side once he saw Jahora fly past him. The Mage was encapsulated by a magical barrier that softened her impact against the ground. She bounced and the energies of the shield scattered once she landed on her back. Helbram ran to her, but kept his eyes fixed on the Quetali. The bandit commander’s blades moved in a bloody storm that cut down the townsfolk and adventurers that rushed at him in a desperate, but fruitless attempt to stall him. Leaf pushed through them and drew the quetali’s attention with a shot that slipped through the man’s blades. It was one of the enchanted arrows in Leaf’s possession and created a blue flash of light from where it struck. The projectile embedded itself into the quetali’s chest, but this only seemed to spur on his bloodlust.

“Retreat!” the archer yelled.

He kept a steady stream of arrows flying towards the commander, but the quetali had gotten used to the cadence of his shots and let no others, even the enchanted ones, slip through his guard. What Leaf had done, however, was give the men around him time to get away, but he was not afforded that opportunity. The commander slammed his heel into the ground and kicked off of it into a leap that closed the distance between him and Leaf in half a breath. 

The archer leapt back and avoided the swords that whipped out at him, but this left him exposed to the kick that followed. A surge of red Ether pulsed through the quetali’s leg right before his foot sank into Leaf’s abdomen. The energy burst from the commander’s boot and threw the archer back. He bounced and landed on his side, but had little chance to breath as the quetali continued his pursuit. His large figure loomed over Leaf and his blades lashed out once again. The archer rolled to the side to avoid the initial flurry and sprung to his feet, creating only a small bit of distance between them. He leaned back to avoid a cross slash, but the commander’s arms were a blur in his continued assault. 

Leaf did manage to loose an arrow in the midst of the chaos, but even at such a close range his attack was deflected. Tried as he might, the archer was unable to create any more space between him and his battle crazed foe. Cuts marred Leaf’s flesh more and more, leaving little options for him to take. He abandoned offense and could only dodge in the hopes that the quetali’s blades would not slice him in two.

Helbram helped Jahora to her feet. The Mage was unharmed beyond a few scrapes and scratches on her face, but, even with the Aether suffused air around them, the distant look in her eyes told him that she was well beyond the point of fatigue. Garuf’s orders rang from below, accompanied by the sounds of battle. The rest of the bandits had met the shield wall.

Helbram placed his hand on Jahora’s shoulder to steady her and held out his spear. “I know you are tired, but I need you to give me a boost.”

The Mage shook her head, steadied herself, and grabbed the spear at its base. Green Aether swirled around them and condensed at the very bottom of the spear into a collection of runes. It was the same symbol she used to enchant his boots, and once the spell was fully cast a trigger set at the back of his mind once again. The warrior spun around, spear poised to throw.

“Leaf! Fall back!”

The archer’s ears twitched and he skipped back. The quetali pursued, weapons ready to cleave Leaf to pieces. He turned to run, but once his eyes fell upon Helbram’s spear he instead dove to the ground. As Leaf fell, Helbram threw his weapon and activated the spell the moment it left his hand. Wind exploded from the base of the spear and carried it forward with a speed that turned it into a streak of steel and wood. Helbram grit his teeth and struck his injured shoulder. The surge of pain brought with it a spike of adrenaline, and all of him felt numb as he lifted his shield in front of him. With an impulse that was mostly instinct pulled by a thread of reason, he chased after the spear.

The projectile passed over Leaf and collided with the quetali, who had been focused on it since its flight began. The commander had already sheathed two of his swords and his free hands were now at the ready. Ether flared from their fingers as they snapped up and snatched the spear from its flight. The tip of the projectile grazed the quetali’s skin, but the enchantment of wind at its base continued to push forward. Even with his enhanced strength, the commander was knocked off balance, lifting one foot from the ground. It was then that Helbram struck.

He rammed into the quetali with his shield, keeping his approach low so he could strike the larger man at his waist. The warrior did not let the impact slow his momentum. With a mix of sheer will and the pure rush of battle flowing through him, Helbram lifted the commander from his feet. The wooden railing behind the quetali splintered under the combined weight of the two men crashing into it, and both Helbram and the commander fell from the second floor.

Time slowed and for a moment Helbram felt conscious of all the chaos that was occurring. He could hear the shouts of the coalition crash against the roar of the bandits that were trying to force their way in. He could see Jahora helping Leaf to his feet and the two of them pressing against the windows immediately. Garuf himself belted out orders that Helbram could not fully comprehend in his suspended state, but from the clash of weapons against shields one thing was clear.

The fight was far from over.

He clenched jaw and braced his arm for impact. When they struck the ground, Helbram landed on top of the quetali with a hard enough force to knock the wind from the commander’s lungs. While the bandit took the brunt of the impact with his large frame, the shock of it still crashed against Helbram’s arm and seared into his shoulder. To call the feeling that followed pain was too simple. It was an agony of fire with an apex sharp enough to bring a scream from his lips.

The warrior made no effort to hold back the sound and used the rush of energy it gave him to rip the dagger from his waist. His senses still flared white, but his aim was true as he brought the blade down onto the quetali’s chest. It struck where the commander’s heart should be, but did not pierce through the skin. It scraped along its surface until it finally settled at the larger man’s shoulder, forming a dent as it tried to sink its tip in. The quetali started to move, and with his scream still going Helbram brought his other hand up and slammed it onto the dagger’s handle. The commander’s skin broke and the blade sunk into his flesh. A roar of pain followed, heightening to a strangled cry once Helbram twisted the knife. The sounds of cracking bone and snapping tendons ripped through the air around them, but it was still their screams that remained dominant.

An Ether infused fist struck Helbram in his flank, the force behind it knocking him off of the quetali and skipping across the ground. Helbram maintained the grip on his shield and scrambled to his feet. He drew his sword, ignoring the lightness in his head and warmth of blood pooling at his hand. Darkness clawed at the corners of his vision. His attempts to blink it away found little success. Fatigue filled his lungs and he began to wheeze. His spirit told him to charge, but his body struggled to respond. The quetali got to his feet, his scream fading to a booming laugh that cracked the animalistic grin stretched across his face.

“Yes! This is what I’ve wanted!” he yelled. His voice carried a power that cut through the sounds of conflict around them.

The commander grabbed the dagger in his shoulder and pulled the blade from his flesh. An ecstatic groan ripped from his lips, and though one of his arms now hung limply at his side, he appeared unphased. Instead, he was consumed by the glee that flared so fiercely in his eyes.

“I see it now. A spirit bound by the chains of this world, doomed to a destiny of powerlessness! And yet it rages against its shackles with a fury that sets mine own soul ablaze, filling me with a rapture that I have not felt in so, so long! For that, you deserve honor.” Light glanced off the three swords he drew, glimmering like scales from the power that welled behind him. “I am Vol’kesh ‘tok Ogrima, bane of the fel beasts of Gol’dan, slayer of Fo’rock the Twin Headed, leader of the Band of Red! Tell me, who do I have the pleasure of killing today?”

The warrior stared at Vol’kesh, expression unreadable behind his visor. After a moment, he shook his head. “I am Helbram, and I am afraid that I have no titles to share with you this day.”

Vol’kesh furrowed his brow. “Truly? A man of your caliber possesses no moniker at all? What an injustice! There must be something that you have been called in the past, for I refuse to believe such a formidable foe holds no honor to his name.”

There was a hunger within the commander’s eyes, a raw desire that bordered on desperation. It was a feeling that Helbram partly understood, yet the rest of it he could barely begin to comprehend. However, there was little that he could do to satisfy such desires, for there was nothing he had been called…

Helbram’s shoulders shook with laughter. It was tired, a reflex to the absurd thought he just had, but in his exhaustion he embraced it wholeheartedly. 

“I suppose I do have one to claim.”

He straightened his back, took a deep breath, and leveled his sword at Vol’kesh.

“Helbram Alligard, Hedge Knight.”

Chapter Twenty

The crooked grin on Vol’kesh’s face grew even larger. “A peculiar title, but fitting.” His limp arm twitched and the fingers of his lame hand flexed. With a grunt of effort, the quetali wrapped them around the sword held by his other lower arm and pulled it back. His upper arms held up the other swords ahead of him, but it was only the one gripped by two hands that surged with red light. “Well then, Hedge Knight… prove to me your worth!”

Helbram flexed his injured arm and let the pain course through him. Battle’s rush sparked within and built into a numbing crescendo that pushed the pain into the distant part of his mind. For a moment, his thoughts brushed against the spell holding the claymore that rested there. It was ignored and the warrior raised his shield to a height that sent pain hurtling through the trance he was forcing himself into. He grit his teeth, kept his shield high, and rapped his blade against its surface.

Both men charged at the same time, steel ringing against steel as they collided into the chaotic symphony of conflict. Vol’kesh barreled into an offensive fury at the first clash. His injured arm kept a firm grip on the lower blade, and even if he was down one of his swords the commander made up for it with an ecstasy fueled bloodlust. So ferocious was the assault that Helbram was pushed onto the back foot. The warrior kept himself tucked behind his guard and let the rhythm of the battle fully wash over him. His fixation on the movements of Vol’kesh’s blades bordered on obsession, severe enough to the point that his pain regressed and meditation took its place. 

He knew these movements. He had fought against them - lost against them - time and time again in his dream. 

A strike to my right, followed by a blade from above and one from below.

Helbram twisted his body and caught the first attack against his breastplate. He deflected the sword from above with his own and caught the blow from below with his shield. The Ether infused blade dented its metal face, but Helbram widened his stance to absorb the impact and pushed it aside. He slammed his uninjured shoulder into Vol’kesh’s chest, a blow that barely made the quetali budge, but it got him into a position that allowed Helbram to bring his sword across the commander’s chest. The blade scratched over hardened skin and Vol’kesh, unfazed, continued his assault.

A flurry of blades, chased by a kick to my torso.

Helbram shifted his guard and caught the dancing swords with his shield. Blades bounced off of it like a drum and the warrior tilted it against the final, hardest blow to deflect a blade off to the side. Again, the disturbance this caused to Vol’kesh’s stance was only slight, but it gave the warrior a chance to catch the follow up kick mid swing. He slammed his pommel into the commander’s knee, knocking the Ether infused leg off course. Helbram twisted with the motion to get out of its way entirely and followed his evasion with a slash across his foe’s abdomen. The sword bit deeper this time, forcing a wince to chip at Vol’kesh’s crazed visage. The commander did not halt his attack, and instead pressed the offensive even harder.

Like their duel in the woods, Vol’kesh switched to a precise style that mixed with his natural ferocity. Stabs slipped between slashes and now even the commander’s legs were more active in using kicks to try and knock Helbram off his guard.

The warrior was a rock in the midst of his opponent’s flow. He tanked the slashes with both his armor and shield and used his sword to deflect any thrusts off course. His guard was not perfect, and the addition of Vol’kesh’s kicks ripped open more holes in his defense. Though he avoided major injury, cuts steadily marked his joints and exposed flesh. Darkness crawled further towards the center of Helbram’s vision, but his attention remained focused on the commander’s movements. Cuts of his own trailed across Vol’kesh’s flesh at an increasing cadence during their continued melee. It was only a guess at first, but now he was certain that whenever his opponent lashed out with an Ether infused attack the hardiness of his skin lessened. It was then that he could strike, leaving wounds that dyed the quetali’s red skin a deeper shade.

Vol’kesh made a slash at Helbram’s head using one of his upper arms. The warrior caught the sword near the base of his own blade and twisted his wrist to bind it. He stepped to the side and threw it away from him to crash it against the quetali’s other elevated sword. The commander followed with a strike from his lower arms, wrapped around a blade that was infused with a torrent of Ether. 

Helbram ducked low and caught the attack at an angle with his shield. He shoved the blow upwards and tore a gap into Vol’kesh’s defense. The warrior’s blade lashed out and cleaved into the quetali’s ribs, digging deep enough to force the commander to leap back. Helbram pursued, the sight of such a wound filling him with a newfound energy that threw him forward. Vol’kesh was strong, there was no denying that, but Helbram was making him bleed. He could do this.

He could win.

***

Jahora watched as the bandits collided with the coalition’s defensive line. Her fingers shook and her head throbbed with a weariness that was far beyond her limits, but now was not the time to give into them. Despite the aid of her magic and Leaf’s arrows, the disruption of Vol’kesh’s attack allowed the thieves to mount a bolstered charge against Garuf’s men. The shield wall was pushed back, and though they were not completely broken, they had lost enough ground that the bandits were on the verge of flooding into the building’s central zone.

“Don’t let up!” Leaf yelled to the men on the upper floor. The archer’s quiver had been emptied multiple times this night and his bowstring was stained red from the blood of fingers rubbed raw. Still, he kept up his arrows and pelted the bandits’ ranks with a purpose that bordered on fixation. It was a feeling that coursed through the other marksmen, but Jahora knew that it was only a matter of time before their ammo would run dry.

A surge of pain at her temples disrupted her thoughts. The effects of using too much Aether were starting to rear their heads in spite of the boon granted by the Ruhian artifact. Her hands shook and in response to that she pressed them against her scalp to steady them.

“I need more,” she murmured. Instinct told her the exact opposite, but that was not what drove her. She cut her eyes to the pillar of light, namely the golden ring that was its source. The stones on its rails appeared to be moving faster now, though she wasn’t sure if that was a trick of her mind or not. Regardless, she could make out the runes on their faces, some of which she recognized. Ones that she could dive into. It would be a risky move and possibly overload her with power, but in their dire straits something needed to be done.

That thought was ripped away by the roars erupting below.

They came from the two men that fought at the base of the artifact, engaged in a clash so ferocious that she could barely comprehend what was happening. Their battle cries washed over the building with such intensity that it was now drawing the eyes of those previously occupied by their own struggles. Disbelief sat upon all of them, but none were more surprised than the bandits.

Vol’kesh, their commander, was a being descendant from conquerors that fell from the stars, bursting with the power of those who walked beyond the boundaries of Man. In his hands were blades that shone like dragon scales amongst the light that poured from a device of ancients long past, wreathed in flames the color of blood. He was brutality incarnate, infused with the very essence of viciousness itself, but at the same time mesmerizing in his ferocity. Many had fallen by his hands, scores of lesser men who failed to prove themselves against his overwhelming violence. How could anyone hope to face such a being?

Despite all of that, his opponent did.

Helbram did not shine with the powers of the Awoken. He could not pull from creation like a Mage. No, he was bereft of such gifts, and in the eyes of this world that made him lesser than his foe. The plate that wrapped around him was dented and broken. The shield in his hand had been reduced to a battered and warped slab of metal on the verge of shattering. His sword could hardly claim to be one. Its blade was chipped and bent into a stick of scrap that grew more and more brittle with every blow. The rags of his clothes clung to him in matted blood and were he not in motion, it would be easy to mistake him for a corpse. This was not the sight of a hero, not the visage of a chosen warrior. This was a man who should have fallen long ago.

Yet still, he stood.

Blood streaked and splashed on the dirt around them, but neither Awoken nor warrior moved. Their weapons crashed against one another in a song of metal against metal, a chorus that had now drawn all eyes upon them. Helbram’s expression was unreadable under his helmet, but Vol’kesh was smiling, possessing a grin that only seemed to grow the more the conflict went on. Perhaps their movements were slowing, perhaps they were getting faster, but everyone watching knew that they were bearing witness to something far beyond a simple duel. They were watching forces of nature clash before them.

A storm of swords and fury that dashed itself upon a monument of flesh and steel.

***

Helbram’s limbs were heavy. His vision was nothing more than a small circle and he felt as if he had been swinging his sword for an eternity. Vol’kesh was not in any better of a state. Their flurries were now degraded into a slug fest of weapon against weapon and any semblance of form or technique had been abandoned in the place of raw force. Despite that, neither man would move.

Vol’kesh’s swords were caught by Helbram’s own, but fatigue had worn away at the warrior’s strength so much he stumbled trying to push the attack away. The commander recovered before Helbram could regain his footing and a surge of blood red Ether flared from his weapons. He brought them down on the warrior and he knew he could not dodge the blows. Helbram clenched his jaw and flipped his sword to cover his forearm. He spread his feet wide and brought his arms up, catching the swords at the crest of their swings. 

The one held by Vol’kesh’s lower hands slammed against his breastplate, and though the armor dented from the blow, it held fast. However, the shock that followed from all the weapons striking at once rattled through his worn body. The pain at his shoulder was so great that the rush of battle could no longer hold back its searing return and a scream forced itself from his lips. Vol’kesh threw his head back while Helbram kept his blades at bay, but the warrior was cognizant enough to mimic the quetali’s movements. They crashed their heads against each other, again and again until Helbram’s vision went white. Finally, Vol’kesh faltered.

A final burst of strength surged through Helbram at that moment. His vision cleared and he dropped the tattered remains of his shield to grip the handle of his blade with both hands. He was falling forward, but his gaze remained fixed on his stumbling foe’s exposed chest. The warrior planted his feet and drove his sword forward. Its length was bent and edge shattered, but it retained a point that was ready to strike true into Vol’kesh’s heart. It collided with a glyph instead.

Fire followed, a burst of flame and power that washed over the side of his head and tore him from his feet. Sound left him, reducing what began as a woman’s scream into a single note that rang through ears. He tumbled through the air and felt it brush against his face once his helmet fell from his head. Nothing but shock rocked his body upon hitting the ground. His vision tumbled and rolled with him until he ended up face down. The ringing left him, and in its place, sound began its steady return.

“MARLIIIIIIN!” Vol’kesh roared. It was a voice so fierce the sounds of battle around them were washed away.

Helbram attempted to move, but his strength had left him. Thought no longer translated to movement and not even a twitch reached his fingers in his struggle to get up. He watched as Marlin emerged from nothing, shedding a cloak of purple light that had previously rendered him invisible. No arrows or wounds marked the caster’s body like before. Any signs of his previous manic rage were replaced by his usual impassive and calculating stare, one that was unmoving in the face of the angered quetali lingering over him.

“Spare me,” he said with an emotionless tone. “If anything, you should be thanking me for saving your life.”

“This was not your fight,” Vol’kesh snarled. He stomped over to Marlin and only stopped once he bumped into the barrier that appeared around the caster.

The halfling rolled his eyes. “I’ve no time for your petty honor. You were paid to do a job, and in my eyes, you are failing at that spectacularly.” He held out his hand and pointed it at the crowd of men near the building’s entrance. Flames danced along his palm and he looked up at Vol’kesh with a stoic, but challenging stare. “I could take care of this problem, but I can’t say that your men will enjoy being set ablaze with the townsfolk.”

Vol’kesh placed his hand against Marlin’s barrier. Ether bled from his fingers as they flexed, forming cracks on the shield’s ethereal surface. However, it did not shatter, and Marlin remained unmoving.

“Pray that you do not live through this day, Mage, for we will have words when this is over.”

The commander turned away from Marlin and marched towards his men. His blades were gripped by arms that hung loosely at his sides. Even with the wounds that marred his body, there was little fear in Vol’kesh’s eyes, but instead the grim look of a man who had to do something unpleasant. He looked back at Helbram and in the brief moment that their eyes met, regret was on his face.

Helbram pushed against the ground. At least, he made the thought to do so. Even with all of his will pouring into the action, the most he could produce was a twitch. Battle was raging once again in the distance, but the sounds were growing more faint with every passing second. Darkness overtook vision, leaving nothing but a pinpoint that stared at the dirt. 

It was then that the flame appeared.

It was small, a flickering form that was fading into embers before him. Once it was nothing but the size of a spark, he closed his eyes and resignation once again took hold of his heart. He knew what this meant, knew that this was how it was supposed to end. This was all he could do. This was as far as he could go…

…

…

…

His hand snapped forward and grabbed the dying flame. It seared his soul and burned him with a fury that swelled in his chest, building and tearing his lungs as a roar that carried him to his feet. Helbram’s hands hung loosely at his sides, blood dripping from his spasming fingers. His hair was matted against his face with a mix of dirt, gore, and sweat. A wheeze underlined his voice, and in reality, he did not know if what he was doing was merely a dream or an instinctual act of desperation. He pushed all that aside and the roar that continued to pour from him coalesced into a single word.

“Vol’kesh!”

The commander had already stopped upon Helbram’s rise, but it was the call of his name that widened his eyes, meeting the warrior’s resolution with shock.

“Our fight is not finished,” Helbram said. His voice was iron.

Marlin laughed. “What? Look at you, you can bare-”

“I do not speak to you, interloper,” the warrior snapped. “I address the one with whom I have crossed swords. Tell me, do you wish to leave things as they are?”

Fury returned to Marlin’s features. “You must truly be a fool!”

“Silence, Mage,” Vol’kesh said, “You’ve earned no right to say such slander.”

The caster groaned with a rising frustration. “Enough of this delay. You wish to be a hero, young man? I’m afraid you’ll just have to settle with dying face down in the dirt.” He turned the hand filled with flames to Helbram, spell ready to be released.

An arrow filled with blue light crashed against Marlin’s barrier, piercing through the magical shield and striking the caster in his side. The hold over his magic faltered and before he could construct it again another arrow pierced his wrist. He yelled in pain, a sound that was smothered by the screams of a woman from above. Jahora stood upon the wooden railing of the second floor, her eyes pure white as Aether swirled around the Circles at her head. Her robes ruffled from a titanic surge of energy and her hair began to lift from power that swelled within her. A thread of pure white was weaved into the rings around her temples, one that led straight to the Ruhian artifact. It bled power from the runes that marked its stones, trailing up the thread and into the Mage above.

Horror filled Marlin’s eyes and he raised his hands again. Three Circles appeared around the caster’s head and a string began to form between him and the construct as well, but before it could fully manifest Leaf loosed another arrow from above. The archer was relentless, releasing shot after shot that Marlin had to fend off with defensive spells. The caster retreated back, unable to do anything under Leaf’s flurry.

The chaos of that conflict was pushed away upon Vol’kesh’s approach. He walked towards Helbram at a slow pace, his swords hanging at his side. No battle-crazed joy lay within the commander’s eyes this time, but as the two men regarded one another, Helbram could see that the quetali was looking at him with a respect that wore a heavy resignation.

“Given your skill, I thought you to be an elf,” he said, “or an orc due to your ferocity, but a human? That indeed is quite the surprise…” He looked over Helbram’s state and took in the fact that the warrior could do nothing else but stand.  He readied his swords and stooped low. “It truly was a magnificent fight, and for that, you deserve the glory of a warrior’s death.”

The words washed over Helbram, who felt the limp arms at his sides grow numb. He could feel the density of the air settled around him, almost taste the crisp Aether that swirled around the building. His thoughts started to fade, but within that lightness he felt the presence at the back of his mind. He faced Vol’kesh, raised his hand, and reached towards it.

Reality slowed and awareness crept through him in a shiver. Vol’kesh was charging towards him, swords primed to take his head off the moment he got within range. Marlin was in the distance, failing to fend off spell and bow from the combined assault of Leaf and Jahora. Aether continued to flood into the Mage, fueling a growing ball of fire at her palms. Battle raged around them and the cries of men diluted the orders that Garuf barked. A single thought strayed to wonder how many of the coalition had died, but it was lost once Helbram pushed it all aside. His hearing, his vision, his pain… everything. That’s when he felt it.

The small spark of Ether at his Core.

It responded to his intent and trailed up his arm while his thoughts continued to pull at what lay at their deepest recesses. Gooseflesh spread across his skin with the power’s movement, culminating in a chill that gathered in his fingers. Aether condensed at his palm and pulled the trigger set at the back of his mind. It refused to move.

Effort and will grasped at it, yet still it would not budge. It was as if he was trying to pry an anchor that had been cemented in place and he could feel the spell in his palm start to tremble. It was losing its structure and soon would collapse entirely. Anger was his reaction, and it was this rage that forced the Ether in his hand to leap out and strike against the Aether.

An explosion of force followed, chased by a distant, echoing sound of warping metal. Reality folded in on itself, forming another wall that was doing all it could to prevent Helbram from finishing his spell. In his fury, he threw his other hand up against creation’s denial. What felt like an eternity took place, but in reality, only half a second had passed. His fingers wrapped around the glyph that took shape in his palms, and from it he pulled the claymore from its ethereal sheath. The mix of Aether and Ether shook the blade with a power that quaked its very foundations. His foe would be close, but Helbram did not need to see where he was.

He brought the claymore down in a single swing, feeling only the slightest resistance as it completed its arc. His senses rushed back to him, and for a moment he could see pale green light wrapped around the claymore’s length. The power faded, and the blade crumbled to dust right after.

Vol’kesh stood in front of Helbram. His swords clattered against the dirt and his arms hung limply at his sides. Blood poured from a fresh wound that cut across his abdomen and chest, and red drained from the quetali’s mouth. The commander looked down at Helbram, his eyes absent of surprise and now without the shadow of regret.

“Do not forget this moment, for this is when you felled Vol’kesh ‘tok Ogrima. You… have shown your worth.”

Vol’kesh collapsed to the ground and lay unmoving. The remnants of Helbram’s claymore scattered into ashes, taking with it the last of the warrior’s strength. His legs buckled, and when he finally hit the ground, all went black.

Chapter Twenty-One

Birdsong drifted in from the windows. It was a distant noise, one that caressed his ears and pulled Helbram from his slumber. Darkness remained in his vision, and for a brief, foolish moment he thought he’d gone blind. In reality, it was just that his eyelids were as heavy as the Golden Peak itself. The same could be said for the rest of his body, which sank like a rock into the mattress he laid upon.

“Shite, I bleedin’ twitch and my arse wants to fall off…”

Helbram snorted, for even through closed eyes he knew who was muttering next to him. He heard the shifting of cloth next, followed by a brief window of silence as he felt eyes start to leer at him.

“Oh, so now he’s decided to wake up? Here I’d thought I’d have to give you a kiss to bring you from your slumber.”

“You would have quite the time,” Helbram said, “a delicate man such as myself requires a more affectionate touch.”

“An affectionate touch, he says. I’ll bloody box your ears while I do it, that’s what.”

“Good morning, Leaf.”

“I’ll have you know it's the afternoon, thank you very much.”

“Well, it certainly feels like morning…”

“For you, maybe. You’ve been out cold for the past few days.”

Helbram’s eyes shot open. “Days?!”

He was staring at the roof over his head, one of a simple, but robust construction. When he looked down, he saw that the bed he was laying in was wide enough for two people and that a blanket was covering his body. He was without a shirt and covered in bandages to the extent that it almost rendered him immobile. A groan forced itself through his teeth in his attempt to sit up and he resigned himself to lying flat for the time being. His head fell to the side and he saw Leaf staring at him with an amused smirk tugging at his lips. His companion was wearing a white linen shirt, freshly cleaned from the look of it, and had bandages wrapped around his fingers which clutched around a half-finished apple. The fruit brought a rumble to Helbram’s stomach, something that only made Leaf’s expression grow further amused.

He took a big bite of the apple and crunched at it slowly. “What? You thought bleedin’ out on the ground was just somethin’ you walked off the next day? If I were you, I’d be kissin’ Nell’s feet for tendin’ to ya. It took her all night before you were breathin’ normal.” The smile on his face faded. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Like I have been trampled by a herd of aurocs.” Helbram made another attempt to move his wrapped shoulder. It was heavy from fatigue, but there was only the slightest twinge of pain from the movement. “Nell really did good work.”

Silence fell over them for a moment and Helbram looked around the room they rested in. It was clean, but the desk, cushioned chairs and wardrobe told him that he wasn’t resting in an infirmary, but rather a bedroom.

“Where are we?”

“The mayor’s house,” Leaf explained. “Nell’s place and the tavern are a wee bit jammed at the moment, so the man and his wife offered to keep us here while we recovered.” He frowned, “Givin’ us their bedroom was a bit much though…” He took another bite of his apple, its crispness bringing another tremble to Helbram’s stomach.

“Wait… where is Jahora?”

In response to his question, a loud snore ripped from the opposite end of the room. Leaf leaned back and let Helbram stare past him. He ignored the pain in his neck and craned it to see that a third bed was in the mayor’s chamber. There laid Jahora, dressed in a white gown and sprawled out in a position that somehow managed to look like it was the most uncomfortable and comfortable one he could imagine. The content look on her sleeping face, draped by a curtain of her blonde hair, told him that she was experiencing the latter. Aside from the small bandages on her face, she looked unharmed.

“Out like a rock,” Leaf said with a snort. “She’ll get up around once a day to eat and what not, but then it’s right back to bed. She was mumblin’ about Aether sickness or some such…”

The image of Jahora taking in the vast amount of power from the Ruhian artifact flashed through Helbram’s mind. 

“Good, I was afraid that something else happened. Channeling so much Aether, from ancient technology, no less, is quite the reckless endeavor.”

Leaf scoffed, “You’re one to talk.” He threw his hands out, “Let’s jus’ ram a bloody quetali off of a balcony and engage with him in a bit of swordplay till we pass out. That’s the actions of a sane man.”

Helbram chuckled and winced from the effort. “Consider those to be actions of desperation more than anything else.” He rolled his neck, feeling a sharp pain lance through his muscle that was followed by a rush of relief across his back. “Since we are safe, I am going to assume that we were victorious in the battle.”

“You assume correctly. After their commander fell, the bandits found a lack of confidence in their remainin’ strength. Hard to be sure of yourself when your mountain of a leader is cleaved two and there’s a small woman lit up like the South Star hoverin’ over you with nothin’ but fury in her eyes and spittin’ vinegar with every word.”

“I am shivering just thinking about it… what of Marlin?”

“Oh, well he’s no longer with us. I’m sure the wind’s carried away his ashes by now.”

Helbram tilted his head with a puzzled look, but realized what must have happened. “So Jahora destroyed the artifact.”

“That, and our little Mage hit the man with the flamin’ Sun. Was an easy target for her, given that he was pinned down the whole time.” Leaf thumped his chest and grinned. “Courtesy of me, of course.”

Helbram gave a smile of his own, “Of that, I have no doubt. What happened when the artifact detonated?”

“Ah, well, the blast was enough to send the bandits and the townsfolk runnin’. From the outside, it must’ve been outrageous to see; just a wave of power that lit the heavens above so brightly it was like day decided to come to work early. It had the villagers comin’ out of their homes and when they saw the bandits fleein’, they gave them a good kick in the arse on the way out.” The smile on Leaf’s face faltered. “I wish I could say that we didn’t lose anyone, but…”

Helbram closed his eyes and braced his sinking heart. “What was the count?”

“I can’t say,” his companion admitted. “Been cooped up in this room the whole time with you two. Garuf and the other adventurers have been taking care of things and… burials are today.”

“I see…” Helbram placed a fist to his forehead.

“I never took you for the religious type.”

“I am not, but proper respect is due to those that return to the Cycle.”

Leaf drummed his fingers against his knee, a thoughtful look on his face. After a moment, he joined Helbram in the gesture and the two shared a moment of silence. When they were done, they gave each other a solemn nod.

Helbram looked over Leaf again, noting that while the half elf was bandaged, he did not recall him suffering severe injury. “By the way… what wounds are keeping you confined here?”

His friend cut his eyes away and to a random corner of the room. “Oh, you know, just a few broken ribs and some serious brusin’. The quetali have quite the kick, as I’m sure you’re aware,” he chuckled. It was a broken, nervous sound.

“You are not wrong about that, but I cannot imagine that something like that would keep you down for a few days.” Helbram tapped his chin. “Now that I think about it, I believe you were mentioning something about your rear when I was waking up.”

“You were hearin’ things; I was quieter than a hare until you started movin’.”

“Leaf, you are only silent when you need to be.”

“And I needed to be quiet, the both of you were restin’!” He motioned to both Helbram and Jahora.

Helbram pressed his lips thin. “Upon further thought, I was quite close to the artifact when I lost consciousness. If it exploded, I would have been caught in the blast. I do not think I would have lived through that…”

“You were in your armor, that probably absorbed most of the impact.” Leaf still could not look him in the eye.

“I find that highly unlikely, someone must have carried me away from the artifact. Did you do that?”

“I’m tellin’ you, it was luck.”

“I have burned through that resource long ago.” He leered at his friend. “You did carry me out.”

Leaf didn’t say anything.

“I do not know why you would be so embarrassed by…” Helbram snorted. “You got hit on the arse while carrying me away.”

Leaf’s shoulders sagged. “It bloody hurt, and let me tell you that it's hard to look heroic when your bum is charred and hangin’ out your drawers.”

Helbram started to laugh. It made every bone in his body ache, but he let it free all the same.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Oh it is bloody hilarious. I, for one, cannot wait to hear the tale of Leaf the Roasted pulling his friend from danger, cheeks so gracefully displayed for all the world to see.” His giggling continued and he covered his mouth in a failed attempt to contain it.

“Laugh it up. You owe me a barrel of ale for all I’ve done.”

Helbram fell back on his pillow, feeling both relieved and fatigued as the laughing left him. “That I do, ‘tis only fair, after all. But… I will have to pay respects to the fallen first, in person.”

Leaf nodded. “We’ll join ya. For now, you need to get some more rest. You did good, Hedge Knight.”

Helbram winced at the title, but said nothing further once sleep took him again. 

When he next woke up, daylight still filtered in through the window, but Leaf and Jahora were both gone. In their place was Nell, who was next to his bed. The old woman was adjusting his sheets and looked over his bandages. Her eyes met his with an appraising look.

“How am I looking?” Helbram asked.

“Like you need more rest,” she answered, “but I have a feeling that you’re not about to do that.”

“Your instincts speak true.” He sat up, still feeling sore and heavy but to a much lesser degree than before. “Besides, given that those two are gone I must have slept until morning.”

“Aye, and so unresponsive too. The Golden Peak could have actually exploded and you wouldn’t have moved an inch.”

Helbram smiled. “I do not do things in half measures, even sleeping.”

“I’ll say…” Nell trailed off. Her strict, stern eyes softened and she no longer looked at him like a patient. “Thank you, all of you. I don’t know how you managed it, but we’re free.”

Helbram wished that her words filled him with pride, with a sense of accomplishment to make all their struggles worth it. In truth, he only partially felt that, and it was mixed with an encroaching heaviness in his chest. One that he decided to keep private for the time being.

“Someone had to do something,” Helbram said, “and I would have been floundering were it not for Leaf or Jahora.”

“Strange, those two stress the opposite.” Nell placed her hand on his arm. “The next time this happens, don’t go giving a healer such a large mess to sort out. These bones of mine are too old to handle such trials.”

“Nonsense. I see youth aplenty within you yet, and believe me, I have no such plans for any more reckless actions.”

“Aside from getting out of bed early.”

“Well, beyond that part,” His smile fell. “I need to see the fallen.”

Nell sighed. “We just buried them yesterday.”

“How… how many?”

“Fifteen. It could have been far worse, but everyone knows each other in Goldshire. I knew all of them, some from when they were just waist high.” Nell shook her head. “We will remember them, and with their sacrifice this town will carry on.”

“You are hardy folk,” Helbram said.

“In the Freemarks, you have to be. Come now, at least let me help you get dressed.”

“That would be appreciated, but I have a question.”

Nell gave him a quizzical look. 

“The bandits were forcing everyone to dig, but beyond the artifact and Aether crystals I do not know what else could have been in the Golden Peak… what did they find?”

Nell tightened a sheet on one of the beds. “They weren’t very transparent, but for the longest time… they found nothing. They made everyone dig a tunnel deep into the mines, so recklessly, for what we thought for the longest time was nothing more than their sick pleasure.”

The Healer sat down on a chair. “Eventually, the tunnel broke through, showing a door carved from stone. The Mage… he tried to open it, and that’s when the rocks started to explode and the mountain began to quake. He tried multiple times after that… each time the explosions got larger; the mountain shook further. Then, you lot arrived, and I don’t think he will be seeing what lies on the other side any time soon.”

“No he will not,” Helbram said. “Has anyone tried to investigate it since the bandits were driven off?”

“No, everyone has been trying to recover from the whole ordeal, and the tunnel that was dug out isn’t the safest of structures at the moment. That and, frankly, everyone is too scared to see what will happen if the door is touched again.”

“A reasonable decision, there are more important things to focus on at the moment… which leads me to ask another question.”

“Oh? And what would it be?”

He ran his fingers through his beard and hair. “How good are you with a razor?”

***

He stood in front of fifteen graves. The dirt over them was fresh and raised; dark humps over the coffins of men and women that had returned to the Cycle. Wooden posts jutted up from them, carved with the names of the fallen. In time, the dirt would flatten and the posts replaced by tombstones to match the rest of the graves within the cemetery. It would be done to properly honor those that gave their lives, but for now, this was how they would rest.

Helbram stared at them, fixating on the names engraved onto the posts. He memorized them and repeated them one by one until they were imprinted into his mind. It was the least that he could do, the minimum for people he had pushed to fight.

He had pushed to die.

To say that his heart was heavy would be less than half of it. He could feel his soul sinking from the weight that dragged at his shoulders, but he had to bear it. This was his doing, and the weight of his decisions could not… would not be borne by anyone but him. He would sink into the deepest mires before that could happen. So Helbram repeated the names of the fallen in his mind again and brought his fist to his forehead.

“May fortune find you in the next life.”

He let a moment of silence pass before dropping his hand to his side and turning around. Leaf and Jahora were looking at him, eyes filled with concern. Helbram smiled at them, and though that gave his companions some measure of relief it could not wipe the sadness from them completely. Within the crowd of tombstones and posts, nothing could have.

They left the cemetery in silence, and it was only until it was out of sight when Leaf chose to speak.

“You know, I’m jus’ not used to it.”

Helbram quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Your face,” his friend said. “You go from lookin’ like a grizzled veteran to a bloody school boy without any scruff.”

Helbram snorted. “It cannot be that drastic.”

“Leaf does have a point,” Jahora said, “You have a much younger look about you, especially with shorter hair.”

Helbram rubbed the smooth skin of his jaw. The chill of the fall air bit deeper without his beard to soften it, but the sensation brought him a measure of comfort and order. His shorter locks did the same.

“Better to embrace the youth a bit longer, right?” he said.

“Yes, but you look twenty, not twenty-five,” Leaf pointed out.

“One might think you were jealous of that,” Jahora said.

“Of course I am! I’m the half-elf. A baby face is my thing and this lug over here decides to shed ten years like a lizard.”

Helbram chuckled. “I am sure you will be reclaiming your rightful place in time. Till then, however, I shall carry myself with the smugness of a royal.”

“Eugh, there’s a sour thought.”

The three of them shared a laugh and continued to make their way down the street. Jahora and Leaf started to talk, but the details of their conversation were lost to Helbram as he saw two people walking down the road towards them.

Daren's hand was wrapped around his son’s. Daniel was still covered in bandages and the pace at which the boy walked was slow and plodding, but it was a far better state than where he was before. He was so distracted with keeping himself walking upright that he didn’t spare a glance at the group, but his father noticed them immediately. Daren’s eyes met with Helbram’s. He didn’t say anything and instead he gave a simple nod, one that was paired with a look overflowing with gratitude. Helbram returned one of his own and gave the father a smile. They passed each other without saying a word, but the understanding between them was clear.

As Helbram walked down the street, the weight on his shoulders didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The night was full of celebration. Cheers and shouts bounced through the tavern and the smell of ale was thick in the air. The townsfolk and adventurers were keen on drinking away the sadness that had hung over them for so long and were succeeding in that endeavor. Haphazard, but passionate music from a drunk fiddler weaved through the common area and the stomps of dancing were like drums.

Such noises, however, grew distant as Helbram walked out of the tavern. He stumbled down the street, making way for the mayor’s house. Though his wounds were healed, he tired quickly and could not keep up with the raucous display that his companions were still swept up in. He had no idea that Jahora had such a passion for drunken singing, nor could he comprehend that the dexterous Leaf was an awful dancer, but he stowed those memories in his addled mind. It would be good for him to use against them later.

Once he was finally at the mayor’s house, he staggered through the door and trudged upstairs. With the aid of what little grace he had left, he made his way to his room and slipped off his boots before collapsing onto his bed. Sleep took him right after, and once again he found himself within the void.

The flame was waiting for him.

It was brighter than when he saw it last, and the color of its tongues had changed. Gone was its orange-red hue, replaced by a softer pale green. It flickered in a gentle pattern, more akin to candlelight compared to the bonfire it was before. The heat that came off of it was now warm instead of searing.

Helbram himself was also not wearing his armor. A simple linen shirt and pants adorned his frame this time and though he could not see it, soft grass slipped between his bare toes. He held his hand out and thought of a sword, but none appeared. The lighter, less oppressive air around him might have something to do with that, but that was only speculation.

The flame flared and shifted. Its light condensed and warped into the shape of a person before flaking off of the figure like ashes. The one who stood in front of Helbram was someone he was very familiar with, for it was himself. This other self was not in simple clothes and instead wore his armor. Rather, the memory of his armor before it was destroyed. His mirror self did not wear his helmet and his locks reached past his ears to match the raggedness of the beard on his face. Helbram approached, but the figure did not move.

“What, am I supposed to fight myself now?”

His reflection turned his head at him. “That depends on what you want.”

Helbram stepped back. “I cannot say I was expecting that… What do you mean? Who are you?”

“Don’t play ignorant, you know full well who I am,” his armored self said.

Helbram sighed. “Yes, yes I suppose I do.”

The figure paced around him. “So, you’ve managed to strike down a Quetali.” He scoffed, “Talentless, powerless you.”

“When you put it like that it almost sounds impossible.”

“That’s because it is,” his reflection snapped, “do you really think that you accomplished that through skill alone? That all your hopeless plodding for nearly two decades brought you to slay a Starborne warrior?”

The figure’s tone brought anger into Helbram’s own. “Saying it like that does not change the fact that it happened.”

“But it was not by your will alone. You had help, like you always do. Leaf, Jahora, Garuf, Daren, the townsfolk, the adventurers. Others that carried the weight that you failed to bear. You know in your heart that the night was won only because they were there. Not you, them.”

Each word cut into Helbram’s heart, but he knew his reflection was speaking true.

“We know of people who could’ve saved this town without drawing others into the fray. Those who would not have had to tell people to go to their deaths because we were too weak to fight for them.”

Helbram bit his lip and closed his fingers into fists.

“So what if a quetali fell by your hand? What of those who died to lead you to that moment? Will they be part of your tale of valor, or will they just be a silent reminder of your weakness for you alone?” The figure walked up to Helbram’s face. “Tell me, Hedge Knight, what say you to the weakness that plagues you so? The frailty, the feebleness that‘s steeped into your very being, letting others die so you may take some insignificant measure of glory for dreams unfulfilled.”

Helbram clenched his jaw and his eyes fell to the floor. There was nothing that he could say to counter his reflection’s points. He was merely voicing the thoughts that already plagued him. He did not deserve glory, and he would not be alive were it not for the actions of people that he had put into harm’s way. He was weak, and for all the trials that he had been through that fact had not changed. Yet… he was now aware of something else.

This was not as far as he could go.

He looked up at himself. “I would say that everything you have told me is correct, that my weakness has been to the detriment of many others. I would say that I am still fragile, and the view before me is from the perspective of a frog who has left the well, but has been too paralyzed to leave its boundaries.”

His reflection said nothing.

“But I would also say that I cannot let it remain this way, that I shall remember those that have gotten me this far through their sacrifice and move forward. I shall accept that I am weak, but I will not resign myself to such a state. I will become stronger, even if it is not the same sort of strength that others may be privy to. I will become better, not only for those who have suffered due to my weakness, but also for me, for my journey has not ended this day. It has only begun.”

His reflection smiled and stepped back. The retreat banished the void, and in its place Helbram once again stood upon a vast field. The path before him was clean and no longer without cracks, and he thought he could see more of the titanic mountain in the distance than he could before. The fluttering of wings followed, summoning masses of birds that surged from the grass around him and took to the skies in such quantity it was as if they were living clouds. Some, he recognized, but most he did not. They soared higher and higher until vanishing within the nimbuses above.

“It will not be an easy journey,” the figure said. “It will break you time and time again and like any man, doubt will forever be by your side. You do not possess the blessings of the gods’ Chosen, the talents of legends past. You have no tools that will take to heights that lay beyond. So, I ask you, for what reason do you seek to continue? Do you wish to be a hero? To write a tale upon the pages of creation for all the world to remember? What is that you truly want, Helbram?”

He locked eyes with himself, grinned, then closed them.

“I simply wish to find out if I can climb to the top, but I know more than anyone that I do not have the wings that will bear me to that great peak I wish to see…”

When he opened his eyes, he was alone and had taken a step forward.

“Therefore, I shall walk.”

Hedge Knight Book One: The Knight from Nothing

End

Closing Remarks

Hello everyone! The author here, just giving a few closing words.

I have been an avid fantasy reader since I was a child and it has always been a dream of mine to create a fantasy world of my own, but told in a way that I have always adored. Hedge Knight is the result of that, and The Knight from Nothing serves as both the series’ foundation and its mission statement. This is not the end of Helbram and the party’s adventures, not by a long shot, and I hope that you will continue to read them as they come out. I am very big on feedback so please, leave a review if you would be so kind to let me know what you think!

If you would like to follow my most current works, you can follow me on my Patreon here: www.patreon.com/criticalscribe.

Thank you again for reading this book, truly, it means the world to me, and I wish you a wonderful day. Have a good one!