“Five sweltering summers of war. Horrors beyond all humanity and reason as we traipsed the Glory of a madman. And then five more. Until there was not a single soul who dared claim the broken land, excepting of course those who ordered the breaking.
We fought in our homes even as they burned, then along the ochre shores of Redan, up the high peaks of Cantor and even through the Vale of Oaths and the Low Countries beyond. Until the gates of Frieka bared open to us and Saille Dor faced a violation far beyond the Lady’s grace. We fought on even ground, on rumbling ground and èrelong no ground at all. Through fields and townships and then alleyways and quarters, excepting no higher power as we desecrated the Praetors beloved Houses.
Debasement of purity was to be the song of the day. Vampiric curses, Madness and old gods beckoned the men of the levy. They could not parse the siren’s song from reality, having lost all sense courtesy of the deafening war of the new Age.
Tis no conflict greater than the struggle of slaughter and heretical breach I fought. Therein surely there could be no other title for Sainon’s demise.
But the fount of all our sins, the Great War of Sainon.”
- Letter of an unnamed Circan soldier, Circa; 1243 CC.
Audrick was lost.
That was the first thing he accepted as the beat in his chest returned to a natural rhythm.
Audrick was a coward.
He had accepted that long ago. But he did recognise that it was particularly bad in this instance.
Audrick was Mad
That was a new development but those words spoken into his mind that were somehow red left no other answer. Being a soldier he had seen what Madness looked like, first it was a mental infection, then a literal one. Luckily the conditions of the forest would take him before the latter.
Audrick was alone.
That was what would kill him. He had tried to fix the issue, by linking back up with the squad, but by the time he had gotten his wits back, there had been no chance of the foolish boy navigating his way back to the bandit nest. Every direction he tiredly stumbled in seemed to yield only more thick forest. Expanding before him in a never ending maze of green even the fae would be jealous of. It was that point in a story where the bard stopped playing their lyre, glanced around the inn with a storied look, and began to whisper the Hero’s darkest moments.
It was a shame Audrick was no Hero, and an even greater disappointment his darkest moment laid around a dozen hastily fled towns south.
Leaning against a tree as he panted for air he began to think of the series of disasters that led him to this point.
The first was the worst. A foolish error completely of his own fault. One that ruined any chance of a ‘normal’ life he ever had. A salty tear ran down his face, alone in its fall, the rest having flowed a long time ago. I never meant it to end this way dear brother……. But it had, and so he left that picturesque farming village behind, his friends and family vanished forever in flight from that horrible crime. Those stalks of golden wheat were so far from his memory now, along with those smiles he had so loved, replaced in his worst dreams by expressions of shock and anger.
The second was a tale, of an army in which someone could carve a life if they were simply willing to offer their own. On his way to that storied Duke, that Blackhelm who made a [King] out of slaughtered House, he had ran out of hastily gathered supplies and was forced to take them from a local food stand when the starvation threatened his end. He had failed and at the knife of that vengeful farmer it was that he met his saviour. Duncliffe never told him why he took mercy on Audrick, but the boy understood that it was something he would repay someday, and so he did, offering a hand in the warhund’s schemes.
Conveniently so they had the same destination, and they departed for that army, Duncliffe to work the same trade he always had and Audrick to build any future he could. The soldier’s life had not been kind, no great opportunity presented itself and the commanders had instantly pegged Audrick as having a single use. To die, spear in hand, for his betters. He had watched as Duke Ardor slaughtered the rebels of Prowdre and had seen none of the promised glory and gold.
And the third, of course, that could only be the stupidity that pushed him into these woods. That he had thought himself worthy of Calin’s kindness and latched on to her mission was such a mind boggling act of arrogance. He was done cursing Fate for such misfortune and finally began cursing himself. The common denominator in all three of those calamities was the boy named Audrick.
His head hurt as he processed that thought. That failure was simply his aspect, as much as spirits were magic or the barak’kurth stone. He would never escape his own nature, so perhaps a death amongst the overgrown forest was a mercy long overdue?
Fuck that.
There was one other commonality between those three disasters. After the first, Audrick hadn't stopped running until the sun had set and all pursuers tired. On the second he had taken that Helldamned spear and held it high until the blood of men slathered it. The third was still in play. It couldn't be over yet.
Not after everything. His mind cleared into a dark void of thought and his body began to feel light. His steps grew easy and no longer did his lungs burn. A feeling of vigorous red wormed its way through his veins and penetrated his tissue, those tired eyes barely holding on reared back to life, crazed in anticipatory delight, as they laid upon a Red String.
He took out that star-shaped knife and held that beautiful cloak tight against his form. The bloody thread waved gently as it beckoned and his mentor’s old words came back to him.
“Do you want to live, kid?” The boy had been asked as a knife was held against his pale throat. “Then kill everything that wants to kill you. Until the only things left are the corpses and silence.”
The words were unfamiliar but slotted into place like a puzzle piece.
the way unfolds
The Madness spoke and he listened. And so the boy, armed with Duncliffe, Micah and Calin’s gifts, walked alone into his Fate.
Interfere now and you threaten the Sta-
Its attempt to reassert control over the threads failed and Audrick’s Destiny started as all good stories start.
With an entrance.
“STARFUCKERS!” A deep masculine voice shouted, their accent Athirian by Audrick’s estimation. “Just hold her arms dammit!”
The abrasive call belonged to a stocky man dressed in a common steel breastplate, nothing fancy or Powerful, just the sturdy steel the Duke liked to outfit his soldiers in. Along with that chest covering molded armor he also wore the customary vambraces and tassets, of the same make of course. That was the common outfit of a soldier, it had no enchantments, at least no noticeable ones, and no pauldrons or shinguards. It was inferior to what, say, Calin wore, but it still far outstripped the tattered leather Audrick had strapped across his frail frame.
It was intimidating, even more so on the large man who wore it. The man wearing the gear, also the one shouting, had no helmet revealing an aged face with a large scar running diagonal across his eye down to his neck. He crowded around something with around nine other similar men, shouting as he made demands of what had to be his unit.
The rest of the men wore similar but less heavy plates, marking them as most certainly his subordinates. Thus it was no surprise that they followed the scarred man’s orders and held down the arms of some individual Audrick could not make out.
“Lady’s Grace!” He called out to the widened eyes and slack jaws of the group.
Audrick’s own voice surprised him, it was steady and coarse, a stark change from that usual stuttery squeak. What would those stupid village kids that called him princess say if they could see him now?
But I'm not in my village.
He was not.
The response to his surprise entry was quite similar though all things considered, a swift levying of all available arms in the direction of the intruder. Though instead of pikes and forks these men mostly took out shortswords and knives. But a couple did differ, drawing their arrows and aiming down sights while the leader himself wielded a massive longsword more than half the height of Audrick.
“Choir be damned, there are miracles in this world.” That scarred man lifted up off the poor bastard they were holding down, sarcastically addressing everyone present. “A bandit that speaks Liernan!”
“Im not a bandit.” Audrick replied.
“Well you sure look like one! Mask and all.” The leader continued eyeing the disheveled boy. “How long have you been stumbling through the woods, freak?”
“Again, not a bandit or a Freikan.” he pointed towards his cloak tiredly continuing his argument. “Dont you recognise this?”
A moment of silence passed as none of the group did so.
“Uh its nice i guess, if youre offeri-
“W-wait sir.” one of the bow users piped up wincing at his leader's glare. “T-hats what the rangers wear.”
“Oh.” He examined the item in question. “The enchanted ones?”
“Uh yeah with a {Enchantment of Feathe-”
“Yeah yeah i dont care that much.”
Oh, that’s why it's so light. The revelation wasn't as impressive as it should’ve been considering the situation.
The scarred man examined Audrick head to toe before nodding in a belayed greeting. “Well the rangers are supposed to look like sissy’s i suppose.”
He motioned around towards the forested area while swaggering forward like a Circan prince.
“It's all this nature. Makes em weak as florans.” he spat on the ground. “But anyways, good to meet you comrade especially now I figured you ain't a warhund or thief. I'm Captain Travis of this here sorry squad.”
The squad in question had to refocus as their prisoner attempted to struggle free once again. They slammed the person’s head into the ground, a few dropping their weapons as they returned to putting their weight upon the thin frame of their quarry.
“Aye then.” The captain looked back at the commotion. “That one right there is actually a freak. But believe me, you'll love this.”
His grin was horrible as he pointed at the soldier holding the bandit’s head down.
“You!” he pointed at one of the soldiers. “Disphit, show our friend the goods.”
The soldier lifted up the head of the bandit, even as they desperately struggled against their grasp. The face of the bandit was surprisingly clean, apart from the blood around their mouth where a tooth must have been knocked out. Their hair was a light orange and fell evenly across the face that Audrick would have found pretty if he wasn't so tired. And of course if he hadn't realised the truth of the current situation. He had originally thought they were just robbing the poor bandit before summarily executing them.
But you don't need one alive to take their stuff.
“So whatdya say?” What a disgusting smile. “I know it's against the ol Blackhelm’s rules, but he has so Helldman much and ain't nothing wrong with a little fu-”
“No.”
The thought made his stomach turn.I t was a crime he had seen men be punished for before. In his village, it had been a swift removal of the offender's extremities. Audrick's shaky hand drifted to his side, exhaustedly gripping Micah’s gift. The cold steel did little to reassure him, but it did remind him of his earlier bout of bravery. He needed that red voice now, so where was it?
“I can't let this happen.” he said softly to himself, belying his racing heart.
Without that Madness, he would just have to make do with himself.
The group looked at him. They saw a frail ranger, barely standing on two feet, vaguely palming some unseen weapon beneath his cloak. In a story, perhaps the man could be dangerous, he could have an Art hidden in his soul, he could be some Hero fresh off slaying a hometown hydra or an Archmage starved by the years but still ready to burn cities.
But Sainon was out of stories. So they just laughed. Like wolves they howled a cutting laughter at Audrick, finding unlimited humour in the concept that what he would want mattered. They were righteous, Audrick realised, so caught up in the idea that what was right was whatever they could do. Was that just the way Power worked? Were these men natural products of reality?
“Hells man, I wasn't offering your own lil’ Hero fantasy!” Captain Travis doubled over laughing hysterically. His sword nearly fell out of his hand as he howled in humor. “I was just offering you a turn after we’re done!”
No this is unnatural.
Whoever had more Power was right. Duke Anglis could burn men to bone at Merint because he believed their lords traitors. These men could hold down the orange haired girl because they were stronger. And Audrick could stop them, if only he had the might.
His mind was clear somehow and his body felt light, like it was begging for permission to move.
…………Do or don't.
These men were no Pathwalkers. And he had a knife.
“I-”
They were still laughing. Just like the village kids. Just like Paltre. Just like everyone did at him. The girl didn't laugh though, she struggled to raise her head against those heavy hands, barely managing to just push her chin up before being slammed down on her jaw. She met Audrick’s eyes and he saw in those teary eyes a desperate plea, the same one he had failed to answer so many times before.
“Im…..”
I'm sorry brother.
“Im going to have to kill you.”
Their laughter didn't break instantly, it just tapered off as the sentence processed its way through the squad. It took the last man a few blinks to realise that his captain had stopped chortling and silence himself.
In that deafening void of noise a trembling hand took out Audrick’s knife and pointed it at the soldiers, shakily wielding it in that stance Duncliffe had taught. His body shook with a fear that would have seen piss trickle down his leg if he had any to do so, yet, it also trembled in anticipation, one he prayed was the saving insanity of Madness.
Silence. Like the den of a hibernating bear the clearing was completely free of all sound. All Audrick could hear was his thundering heartbeat and the blood rushing through his head. His breaths felt short and dirty through the cloth mask and he wanted nothing more than to rip it off, luckily reason prevailed despite the unreasonable situation and he squashed the urge.
“You cowards,” Audrick added belatedly, hoping to end the stillness of the clearing.
The captain looked back at his men as if measuring if the reality he occupied was real. Asking them with his gaze if this was a Skill or Spell that had hypnotised them or some trick of the fae. When the answer came back in their alike expressions, they threatened to fall into that howling laughter again. Captain Travis did not let that come to pass, cutting off any sign of humor with a single raise of his fist. He looked at the boy wielding a knife and turned to a soldier on his right.
“You.” he pointed at his subordinate in a tone reminiscent of a sword’s edge. Then, much the same, he pointed at Audrick. “Kill him.”
“S-sir?” The man looked reluctant to kill a member of the same army. “Isnt he a r-ranger?”
“Aye. One with morals.” he spat on the ground. “Morals that will make him run to Commander Strare and crow about our little meeting.” The captain began to circle around Audrick forcing the boy to give up his back to continue facing the most dangerous threat on the field. “And that, my friends, will end in our heads rolling.” He stopped exactly opposite his squad. “So yes. KILL HIM!”
The soldier ran at Audrick unsheathing his sword clumsily as he did, so unwieldy was the man that he gave the boy enough time to turn around and brace for his strike. The lanky man jabbed at him with the steel shortsword forcing Audrick to weave out of the way. His assault was unskilled and impatient, but furious enough that Audrick couldn't possibly block it with his knife or strike back at him.
“This is the price of foolishness, the worst of all the sins!”
For some reason the captain and his squad did nothing but watch as the boy scrambled around the impromptu arena avoiding each strike like a rabbit would a farmer. Audrick swept his eyes around the clearing when he got the chance. The woods were close enough he could probably run to them and escape back into the green.
But where would that get him? Hunted down by these men and butchered. No, he had to fight now, no matter how hopeless it was.
“Hells man, what are you waiting for!”
Audrick had been thinking too long. The soldier's shortsword came flying at him horizontally too fast for his weak and tired legs to dodge. He desperately lifted up his knife in an attempt to block the fatal strike. Sparks flew and Audrick’s feet slid against the ground as his entire upper body was slammed back, the cost of blocking such an attack. He was open and the soldier, instead of taking the lengthy option of resetting his sword for a strike, simply slammed the hilt of his sword into Audrick’s midsection.
His lungs gasped for air as he fell to his knees clutching his stomach. He felt like he was drowning in air he couldn't quite force back into his body. When finally breathed a wretched breath he could taste iron in his mouth, feeling his shattered ribs cut into his flesh he began to cough up scarlet blood as he laid there on all fours. The men around him jeered like an audience to a gladiator match, as if one of their own wasn't also in the fray.
“What are you waiting for?” The gravelly voice of Captain Travis could barely be heard by Audrick through the blinding pain. “Kill him and be done with it. We only have so much time with the girl!”
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L-lady please.
Audrick begged as his miserable body was forced to lift itself up again to face the soldier, inevitably the exhaustion and broken ribs made that impossible. His hands gripped the dirt as his legs gave out. Audrick was scared, he could recognise that at least.
It was just too much, what was the point? It felt like he had walked a Path of his own all his life, a shitty broken path he was forced to crawl down step by step, and now he reached the end of it. Still crawling, and still desperate.
you won't lose here
I don't believe you! He cried out into his aching consciousness with a certainty he hadn't felt since leaving his village. Then he began to think, even as the soldier sunk his sword through Audrick’s chest, he kept on thinking. It was a win win scenario, he could die, or he could kill this bastard. There was no negative. All he had to do was get up and kill these bastards. It was a task much harder than it sounded but one so attractive to the boy.
“........K-kill…….”
His throat burned and he could feel the metal in his chest. Like massive splinters embedded though every inch of the hole now bored through his torso the sensation was unbearable. But that pain, that searing agony, was swiftly overshadowed by that familiar feeling of red hot hatred. His mouth opened and he gasped a breath that should have been impossible.
“ILL KILL YOU!” He shouted, somehow, defying all reason that demanded he keel over. He rejected that possible Fate gripping his star symboled knife and shoving it at the man's throat, finding the soft flesh easily.
The armoured bastard had been throwing up after thrusting his weapon into Audrick. His plate did him no good when Audrick gripped his nape and clumsily slammed his steel through his gullet. Satisfying was the sensation of steel as it glided through the man’s neck, instantly silencing his oncoming scream and sending him toppling to the ground a mess of spilling red.
The men fell silent at the sight of their comrade squirming in his last throes.
“HAHHAHA.” The same horrible laugh. “Fucker managed to put his sword in a guy and not kill him! A deserved knifing if there ever was one.”
The man struggled as the viscous fluid poured out of him. Like a lame horse he tried to rise to his feet, failing in turn just like Audrick. The leader shoved his longsword through the man pinning his spasming form to the earth. The casual disdain in his laughing eyes inspired a new level of sheer hate in Audrick as he rose into a kneeling position. He ignored his body's begging that he lay down and meet the Lady, instead choosing to embrace the ignited fury he felt.
“Tell you what boy.” The captain cupped Audrick's chin. What? His mind struggled to sort out the situation as those callous hands fell on his bare face. My mask. The cloth piece had fell at some point, revealing his visage to the bastard. Audrick’s blood went cold and the red feeling went haywire.
“We’ll give up our fun with the girl.” The fucker leaned in. “All we really want is an alternative if you catch our drift.”
“C-captain he’s half dead and a bo-”
“Shut the fuck up dipshit.” He threw the dead soldier's longsword at the dissident. “Look at him! Ladys Grace, he's a pure Athlan . Any bastard of the homeland is better than a freak, be grateful you get one prettier than the Friekan dog.”
Audrick revised his earlier estimation, these men were worse than bad, he should've known that from the start. They were animals. At least the bandits of the forest could boast their kills were mostly clean, these bastards rolled like pigs in the stinking mud of their morals. The boy, bloody and tired, pressed the edge of the star-shaped knife to his neck preparing for the easy way out. It was agony again, a sensation horrifyingly familiar, as the edge passed through his own flesh.
It's so warm. The blood flowed once again, as searingly lively as ever. Perversely he felt that same satisfaction as earlier, perhaps because it was just as sharp a strike, easily cleaving his tissue. Or maybe any kill would satisfy the maddening depths of his heart.
Either way, the feeling fortunately dulled the pain as black began to encroach on his peripherals. The void crawled across his eyes faster and faster as his end drew near. And for a single blink as his vision went dark, he saw something. He saw it. That impossibly infinite lake into which all things flowed. It was so warm, and so comfortable, enough so that he wished for it to take him then and there.
Within it laid a man standing over a pitch black altar, softly beckoning him forward as if to embrace him like an old friend. Yet his body would not move towards the man no matter how hard he tried. Likewise he did not feel a current pull at him like that River the Praetors spoke of. Instead his eyes shuttered open, tears of blood leaking through their aching edges, and the visage faded, disappearing as fast as it came.
wield it, our [Sword of love]
He could hear it, his heartbeat. Thudding away in a rhythmic passion. Somehow. He could struggle out gasps, even breathe heavy breaths as life flowed back into his wounds. The experience was searingly hot, with the blood pouring out of him steaming in the forest air. In the absence of the pain Audrick could barely withstand the heat in his torso as his innards began to pulse.
The men surrounding him laid eyes upon gouges in his pale flesh that bled a deep red the likes of which not a single soldier present had seen before. Not the stinking dark gooey fluid of warshed but a bright scarlet fluid defying gravity and dripping, no, flowing, back into the boy. Then the fluid went still, wavering and elongating as it caressed the scars covering the boy. And before the Stars and bastards the viscous ichor moulded into a ruby coloured thread.
“Madness!” One of the fools shouted, terrified at what he did not know.
The string wormed its way across Audrick’s frail body, reaching up to his self-inflicted wound and stitching his neck shut with a [Surgeon]s precision. Caressing the scar gently like a lover it crawled across his skin to continue its work.
“No….. “ The fuckers should’ve attacked him. But fear was a great slaver. A chain that made the cutthroat soldiers into whimpering boys. “I-its Devilry.”
It flowed down his back, ripping the sword out of him and worming into his organs, forcefully pumping them back into action.
“S-stars damn it all.” Captain Travis’s eyes were darting wildly as the situation unfolded. “I suppose I was wrong on the Hero thing!” He manically laughed.
As the string finished its ministrations a respite of silence and movement dawned. The soldiers stepped no closer and a few even felt at themselves as if doubting the reality before them. Audrick, for his part, struggled to reassert dominance over his body, attempting and failing to lift himself up off of his position on all fours. The smell of blood was heavy and rancid in the air yet somewhat sweet to the boy as he struggled. Taking deep breaths he made his way up onto his legs just as the respite broke.
Captain Travis was the one to cut short the reprieve, unsheathing his longsword and running at the boy who shakily stood with red string at his feet. The captains steps were cautious, yet unbelievably certain, as his eyes focused with one intent, to execute the threat before him.
An arrow whizzed past his head cutting a line through his cheek as it ran through one of the soldier's eyeballs, instantly sending the man toppling to the ground like a puppet getting its strings cut. Calin slid out of the brush, crossing dozens of metres in an instant and spinning to slice through the heels of two of the men. They fell to their knees screaming and she rose while spinning again, dual shortswords blurring as they passed through the soldiers tthroats.
Two men dead in a flash. The rest of the soldiers, scared beyond belief but still trusting in numerical superiority, took out their weapons and faced the ranger captain. One of them raised his sword in a foolish move that reeked of fear and vengeance, an ugly mix if there ever was one.
“Y-you’ll die for that bit-”
His heel was bitten by the orange haired Freikan who had managed to squirm her way out of their grip in the chaos. The soldier punched the girl in her face, but Calin's knife had already seized the opportunity and sank into his forehead, it was a perfect throw that killed him the moment it landed.
Captain Travis took an appraising look at the situation, the half elf slaughtering his men, Friekan girl ripping her way up off the ground and the boy who should have been dead glaring at him with steam wafting off his impossibly healed wounds. With no further examination he fled into the forest leaving his men to meet the Lady.
Audrick looked back at Calin, desperate for some guidance and saw her holding a sword and spear at bay with her two shortswords. Perfect parries and deflections kept them at bay like a mongoose would a viper, and she still found the opportunity to kick a stone at a man trying to put an arrow through the fastly approaching and now armed Freikan. Despite the captain’s occupation with the soldiers, their eyes met and her forest green pupils gave the order he so desired.
The bastard couldn't escape.
Audrick’s aching body demanded action as he rose to his feet. Those muscles, deprived by years of subpar dinners, now held more energy than he had ever exerted before. He felt sharp, like a mag-gun about to go off.
With his wounds sealed he brushed off the red string still clinging to his form and gripped the knife he had slit his own throat with. And with a better target in mind this time, he sprinted into the woods.
“You weak cowards!” She dodged an arrow. “Nary has such a pitiful sight arose since the Vale burned.” The few men who tried to flee after their captain were struck down by her flurry in quick succession. Her sword cut in turn with her hardwood bow, an arrow took a man through the heart whilst her blades cut the closer threats down, barely a beat between the actions as she effortlessly swapped her arms. It was a great distraction, one that allowed Audrick to retreat from the clearing in his vengeful pursuit.
“YOU HAVE THE HONOUR OF FACING C?LIN SHEANOR, OF THE ARDORED WOODS!” She shouted like a Praetor declaring the holiest of days, offering a plain vision of the men’s death. Where the holy men spoke of the Lady and her Lake, the half elf offered alone the fleeting memory of her blade. “YOU WILL DIE ON MY TERMS! BY MY HAND!”
The sounds of battle faded and only the sound of the forest creatures melded with a man's harried pants filled the air. In that tranquil chase through the green, Audrick heard only a single one more of Calin’s declarations.
“LOOK TO THE GIFT DOGS.” The screams of men punctuated her words like screeching lyres. “TODAY'S A GREAT DAY TO DIE!”
He could not help but agree as his eyes narrowed, glaring at the back of the man he intended to kill.
Step after step as the twigs crushed beneath his heavy steps. Lungs ablaze with a cold air forcing its way into every vein that pulsed. An acidic stench in the air accompanied by the taste of iron still on his tongue.
All together, it was not the worst walk through the woods Audrick had ever taken. That miserable affair happened earlier in the day. Luckily this harried dash only got better with every leaping stride he made, closer and closer to the armoured back he saw bobbing up and down in front of him. The fleeing captain’s run was desperate, every movement designed to take him further away from the scene, and further away from Audrick.
He was failing.
Where the ugly bastard stumbled and slipped over the underbrush, his pursuer glided like a floran across the natural hurdles. It was uncanny, in those horrible hours before he had been nothing but an outsider to the forest, yet now he ducked and weaved like he had known nothing else but its lush depths.
If he had to give credit to any one influence for his newfound dexterity, it would have to be that nagging feeling of red in the back of his head. It was everpresent, both pulsing gently on his skull and manifesting translucently on his peripherals like a constant eyefloater around the perimeter of his vision. His body felt lighter than ever as he leapt over a root easily devouring metres of soil towards his quarry.
Captain Travis seemed to realise he wasn't going to escape by simply fleeing. Abruptly he dug his armored boots into the ground and shoved his shoulder into the boy who failed to stop in time to avoid the pauldron digging into his stomach. The momentum threw him over the captain who leaned into the movement tossing Audrick over his shoulder down a hillside he hadn't noticed.
After tumbling through the air whilst struggling to breathe, Audrick miraculously landed on his feet dragging his hands along the ground like a cat to cease his roll. He coughed out a speck of blood, which was strange because he shouldn't have been able to use his lungs at all, not after a hit like that.
“DIE YOU FUCKER!”
There was no time to ruminate on the oddity, steel glinted in his vision and Audrick threw himself backwards from the coming strike. He kept rolling further and further down the hillside as the captain’s longsword came slashing down at him in wide arcs of fury, not allowing any space for him to move but directly away. Captain Travis had perhaps realised the best course of action was to kill the boy instead of outpace him. Or maybe that had been his intention all along?
Either way saw the captain stalk down the hillside in a venomous fury, with his cleaves easily parting the trees yet failing to draw the blood he so wanted. Mundane steel doesn't cut through solid wood that easily. His sword passed through an arberry bush, easily sending some poor squirrels head flying with a spray of blood.
Hells.
The bastard's sword was enchanted or made out of a rare metal like veresteel. Sharpened by mana or it's making, it was sharp indeed. Cuts through the trees like men at Merint, it'll carve through me. Audrick would have to avoid its edge at all costs. It was a task made hard by his continuing stumble backwards down the hill and that pounding red voice that demanded he sink his knife into the captain’s heart.
“I GET IT NOW! WITHOUT YOUR HELLMAGIC AND WHORE CAPTAIN YOUR NOTHING!” He shouted. “YOU COULD’VE LEFT US ALONE! A low strike of the captain missed Audrick’s feet by inches instead carving through the forest floor sending dirt flying in all directions. “OR JUST TAKEN THE HELLDAMNED OFFER! INSTEAD, YOU CHOSE TO DIE!”
“Kill yourself!” he offered back between gritted teeth. “You horsefucking loser!”
The captain's mindless scream of rage in response belied his next strike. A two handed overhead sweep that was too telegraphed, and more importantly, had too much power behind it. It still took all of Audrick’s might to throw himself backwards, nearly flipping over in a desperate dodge. But his plan had worked.
Audrick stopped suddenly, bracing his feet against a root he completely cut all of his momentum backwards before pouncing forward with a thrust of his knife. The captain moved his hand instinctively to block the strike, likely believing his leather would deflect whatever weak steel the boy used. The jab sunk into through the captain’s armored hand skewering his palm upon its black tinted edge. The bastard’s eyes went wide as he registered the weapon implanted upon his flesh. Unfortunately he was a lifelong cutthroat and easily regained his bearings, enclosing his leather glove around Audrick’s knife hand and trapping the boy’s only weapon in an unbreakable grasp.
The captain’s sword was dropped to the ground as he began to use that now free hand to pummel Audrick’s form with agonising punches. Every hit felt like being hit by a mag-rail carriage. A constant series of blows to his body that should’ve, would’ve, rendered those bones a shattered mess if not for that feeling running wild through his veins.
I can't lose here. Somehow Audrick knew the feeling would not protect him forever, he had to act now or never act again.. Thinking of nothing else but the glorious sight that would be the tattered corpse of Captain Travis, Audrick balled his free hand into a fist. The assault had left him breathless yet his anger filled him with an energy of rage coating his soul. It was not righteous or heroic, just an earnest wish that the man in front of him die, one the scarlet voice would oblige. A faint aura pulsed around Audrick’s fist as he drove it into the captain's chin with great satisfaction, the large man’s entire skull was forced upwards and Audrick swore he felt him lift off the soil for a moment.
Lady’s tits…. I feel like a [Pugilist].
“THIS COULD HAVE BEEN EASY KID!”
The captain regained his senses and launched him away with a powerful kick that sent him flying further down the hill. That was yet another mistake of the captain, he could have continued his assault and ended Audrick’s journey with just a few more hits. Yet caution and fear dictated he put distance between himself and the unknown threat. Audrick understood the feeling, it was hard to remain logical when your ears are ringing and your body screaming. Yet that did not dull his bubbling disdain for the man, the Slaughter at Merint would have a coward like this die of fright.
Landing on his back, Adurick heaved himself out of the wat-
The water? His pants were soaked through as he stood in the running stream that demarcated where the slope of the hill ended and a small river began. The water ran leisurely up to his heels making it no issue to move in, yet for a moment he was too surprised to do anything but stand in the freezing water. The sound of the captain stepping into the water shocked him back into reality. Perplexingly he did not attack immediately, instead striding a few metres upstream of Audrick and fixing him with a burning gaze.
“You're better than expected.” He cocked his chin like a Pathwalker. “I'll grant you that. But I'm still going to crush you, even with your little Hellish trick, you're nothing. So be a smart little ranger and fuck off.”
Audrick breathed in and out stifling the urge to run at the bastard with his knife. He glanced at the blood still on his weapon and the satisfaction of the dirty weapon was enough to hold off the bloodlust for a moment.
“Even if you claim a glorious victory against a fucking spearman-” he gulped air like a surfacing na’ray, punctuating his hoarse tone. “......Captain Calin will warn the camp. I saw what the Duke does to men who make an enemy of his might. I smelt it too. You'll be burnt alive like the pig you are.”
“Hah! You’ll die as well little Madbeast, no man of the crown would let an Hellspawn like you live!”
“....so be it.” Audrick caught his breath. “Lets die, captain.”
“…….I'm not sticking around here. The Peerage hosts plenty of discontented nobles who aren't partial to the old Gloryheart and his dog. If the king and his duke don't want me, well, selling the war plans is an option with a surplus of buyers. Hells, the bluecloaks will pay a silver piece per captain I can name, and I do hear Circanor is quite nice this time of the year.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“I'm a man! Unlike you pretty boy I understand that life is a horse. One you gotta take by the reins and whip till you get somewhere!”
“Lady’s Grace, do you ever shut the fuck up!”
“Damn the Lady!” he bellowed out a laugh. “She didn't help when my family was staked by Reinhard’s advance. She didn't help as I was starving. And she won't help me kill you.” There was no fury nor sadness in the vereshit he spouted, just a blind confidence driven by decades of war. Even so, there was a hint of bitterness as he spoke. “So the big bitch upstairs doesn't get a say now. And neither do you for that matter, you are going to die here or your going to fuck off, make the right choice. ”
Hes fucking insane.
“Fine, even a lobotomite like you clearly understands principles. So can you get it through your plague ridden head that even if you escape the Duke, he won't forget such a betrayal?” Audrick knew little of his liege except that he was a man of iron and honor to a point that he was granted his own duchy. “You will be hunted down. Be it by [Talonguard] or [Assassin].”
“Still not running, eh?” he sighed. “Whatever. You really are a child huh? No one will avenge you, no one will be sent after me for some dead rat in the forest, no one will care. The Duke only offers mere platitudes. I have been in this army for years and this is not the first girl I've found in the forest. Yet here I stand!” The bile rose in Audrick’s throat at the thought of it. It might not have been true, but his gut told him this violation had transpired across countless victims. “And perhaps if I'm presented before him, he’ll burn me. But you can be sure he will not give chase. ”
Focus. He couldn't strike yet, no matter how much he wished to silence the bastard. He needed to keep talking.
“You can't be sure of that.”
“Maybe not. But I reckon I have the right side of lady luck here. I’ve seen it, justice died in the Oathbreak and its carcass only rotted in the years since.” he laughed. “Without any Power behind it, the honour of Sainon is dead. The Pathwalkers are the true masters of our world and they only care for their own morals, not some vague ideals of a foolish boy. The Duke will do nothing.”
“You have some strength don't you?! Why don't you be GOOD?!”
“Wake up to reality princess! Do you think Kalaworth was moral as he carved his empire? I follow the one truth. Power! And it dictates that we mean nothing. So when I kill you here and now, I will live the rest of my life in peace! ”
“……..but what happens if a [Talonguard] has the morals that want people like you dead?” Audrick did not argue to change the bastard's mind, but only to buy time. For what, he did not know, but it could only benefit him. He would humor the pig with conversation, if only to offer himself a respite to catch his breath. “The simple honour that demands a bastard like you be put down.”
“Hah! Naivety suits you. The swords of the crown only levy for the fat pigs in Athire.” he spat. “Get it through your head, kid. We are the commonfolk. Past the cities, where they at least tout a false justice, the only order is the one you create. The Peerage spares care naught for us beyond the bodies we can fill in their hosts! And Lady knows there's more than enough warhunds lying around for that care to run dry.”
“You're right.” He could not refute what he had seen with own eyes. “But people that high would never need to lower themselves far enough to see a shitstain like you.” Audrick eyed the man's armour as his stance shifted in a momentary anger. Being so insignificant was something man did not enjoy. Across the plate he wore and leather below there were few gaps, but enough to allow a fatal blow if only he could gain an opening. “They’ll simply step on you like the veremite you are. It takes no moralising for that, just a single glance.”
“Yes.” he exasperatedly replied. “and a dungeon break could see me dead in any season. Or a wild tornado, or a rampaging sporebear. Perhaps a golden souled man will strike me down with little justification nary a glance.” His eyes sharpened and the opening Audrick hoped for never materialised. The captain was seasoned, too many battles seen to strike in blind anger. “Even so, that's no greater reason to lose sleep than any other uncertain disaster.”
“DAMN YOU, I have been through it! War at the very worst of slaughters!” He half feigned his furious shout as memories flashed of the horrors he had seen with a spear in hand. “Hunger a step away from human flesh! And yet, THROUGH IT ALL, I can still claim a human decency!”
“You haven't seen a connie airship erase your friends, or a Hero preach atop the corpse pile you loved. You don't know the first thing about War. But fine, have it your way ser.” He addressed Audrick sarcastically. “You're the shiniest shit in the hole. Or the most impotent. That doesn't make the rest of the pile any less REVOLTING!”
“What? You realise you're at the very bottom of your shitty fantasy.”
“Aye, I know.” He growled out, clearly getting angrier. Audrick’s gambit was working.. “But one day if I keep shoveling, I'll crawl into a Power of my own! And yeah, taking a few liberties along the way, no matter how cruel they are, is the exact fucking point of it. It's the Path of Power you fool, THE ONLY TRUTH!”
“But why did you do any of this in the first place? I understand your weakness. I understand your goblinlike nature” The man glared harder. “But still. Was the food and shelter not enough? Or was it the safety and command that was too unappetising?”
“Another stupid question. I did it because I want more! BECAUSE I CAN TAKE MORE!”
“If I say I want you dead. Does that give me the right to slit your slimy throat?”
“Yes, but you have none of the might to seize that wish! You prove my point with every pathetic word.” He laughed with little humour, regaining some composure to Audrick’s dismay. “But I can see you'll try anyway. Like a frenzied caracid, you won't stop biting till your stomped out.” His face was painted with a decades-long cold fury. “For that willpower, at least, I'll say a prayer to your whore mother over your mangled corpse.” The captain’s stance settled as all emotion on his face fell away to a focused glare. His hand drifted downwards to his side, settling on his hip hovering mere inches from something attached by a belt.
“I would be lying if i said i enjoy this.” He chuckled dangerously. “I would've much rathered keep you alive.”
It was becoming abundantly clear no opening would come. That was familiar to the boy, he had been bruised and beaten in many an alleyway, having lacked an opportunity for victory. Though he went hungry and destitute those nights, through all those beatings he did gain a certain pivotal sense. Audrick knew that dropping feeling in his gut like a Friekan knew steel, that change in the air before the swords came swinging. He must’ve weathered it at least a hundred times in his journey north. It was a sudden moment, a split in Destiny, when it became clear dialogue was at its end. His body wound up like a spring anticipating what always came after the talking. With his muscles tensed and senses primed, he awaited the captain's next words.
“But as they say down south.” His hand gripped something. “When two thunderhorns charge each other, they don't stop till ones-” A glint flashed on the captain’s hip. “-DEAD!”
Audrick was just a spearman. His instincts were no great thing. So it was only that sensation deep in his core that gave him the warning and swiftness necessary to duck. His body unwinding in a flurry of alien motion throwing his centre of balance downwards onto the ground, nearly smashing the back of his head on the riverbed. In doing so, his torso barely weaved something by mere moments. Still, a line of heat grazed upon Audrick's flesh in an instant making him wince in pain. The pounding burn contrasted nastily against the cold water on his back, enforcing an uncomfortable few moments as the river lapped up against the burn.
Looking up at the sky he saw a line of fading sunlight left in the air, somehow physically materialised into a visible ray running across the Lady’s Gift. It crossed the sky like the eagles Audrick had once seen in his youth, so far above the world, flying faster than he could ever imagine. The line traced through the Heavens in a perfectly straight line, wafting a burning smell and distorting the air around it like the horizon of a summer's day.
What? Confusion filled Audrick’s mind as he stared at the sky. Sunlight distorted at the height of its summer might, but never such a physical and close sensation in the air. And it didn't burn so searingly like the beam that had lanced Audrick’s flesh either, at least not in Athle. No, the sensation in the sky felt more akin to the flames that had licked his skin at Merint. But unlike those flames of ash, this heat came from no man. Instead a smoking piece of carved wood was now held an arms length in front of the captain, the ray clearly of more magical origin than Audrick expected.
For a second the captain just stared at him, having expected a quick death for the boy instead of the glancing blow. The boy in question stared back, still processing what the man held, at least until he realised he was staring down the metaphorical mag-gun barrel.
MOVE!!! His mind screamed a demand his body quickly obeyed, midsection pounding as he rolled out of the second shot’s path, barely catching a glimpse of the bright beam that bored into the riverbed throwing up a great cloud of steam as it instantly erased the water in its path. Somehow, he again had evaded certain death, of which he now understood its origin.
The weapon was a device he knew little of, only catching glimpses of it in highclass storefronts and dangerous strangers' hips. Another invention of the continentals, magic made accessible to whoever could hold the carved timber, carefully imbued as it was with some High Liernan glyphs. And of course, whoever could pay the exorbitant sum for the foreign device. Audrick had suffered the worst of shocks when he saw the gold coins the sticks went for in the towns of south Athle.
Thus did the pointed end of the rudimentary spellstick anger him to no end. Heavendamn it all, how?!!! He knew spellstick was a type of enchanted device or perhaps a Spell array of sorts, Audrick was not a Mage, relying entirely on what his parents and wandering practitioners had taught. What he did know with certainty was that the item was rare, the price it sold for easily proving that fact. Rare enough, that a bastard like Captain Travis shouldn't deserve to even lay eyes upon it.
And yet. As always, the Stars had no care for fairness in their designs.
Though, at least the scales were not entirely imbalanced. Audrick was thinking fast. Far, far faster than he had ever thought before. Yet another of the red’s gifts he supposed. Like a thunderbird had struck lightning into his head, he could sort out the situation before the steam in the air even began to dissipate, allowing him to rise to his feet and swiftly clear the fog in his mind.
Banishing the burning smell in his nostrils, even as the Slaughter of Merint flashed in his memory, he took a deep breath letting the fury flow through him again, leaving no quarter for fear to prosper. Hell’s gifts haven't ended yet. I can still win this.
In the fading cover he began to sprint close to the ground, stealing a swift appraisal of the surprised captain as the man, once again, stared with wide eyes at his failure to secure the kill. If the boy was surprised he had dodged the beam, the captain was doubly so, enough that he did not immediately take another shot. All the wartime experience in the world did not prepare him for this, fighting some Hell ridden boy in the woods, watching as he blurred in a dash out of wispy cover.
Still though, it was a threat running directly at him and he began to aim another ray to address it. He would not get the chance, with Audrick just barely closing the distance between them, spearing his weight against the man’s midsection, throwing them both down into the river.
The captain's armour clanged as he fell, cold water quickly pouring under his plate shocking him into adrenaline fueled action. With a heave he shoved Audrick away from him, delivering a punch and kick as he did, forcing the boy to guard and letting him climb to his feet freely. Audrick did not bother trying to grapple him, knowing he did not have the strength to win that battle. Besides, he had a better item to lay his hands on.
“YOU SOUTHERN FUCK!” The captain shouted, realising his spellstick was lost in the fray. “YOUR TRICKS WONT SAVE YOU!”
Audrick clumsily aimed the piece at the captain, forcing the man to desperately throw himself back into the water in an ironic reversal of their previous situation. There, looking down at the man as his eyes dilated in panic seeing the boy delay his shot, Audrick coughed out a glob of blood and threw the spellstick as far as he could, away into the riverbank where the man couldn't reach. Audrick did not know how to use it, so it was useless to him, and now, due to his own incompetence, it was also useless to the bastard.
The man in question rose steadily to his feet, dripping clothes weighing him down as he did, accompanied by dogged pants as his breath fled from him. In turn Audrick was becoming keenly aware of his own state, bruised and exhausted as he was. This would be the last bout of their duel he concluded, with little left in their tanks it was the only option. He could feel it in the air, his heart beating faster as the scales of Fate began to make a victor of the two.
The captain strode to his sword by the riverbank, only a couple of paces away, picking it up in a loose grip while Audrick lifted his knife out of the stream, gripping it like a mother would her babe. Both uttered not a single word as they did so, the time for talk having passed what felt like an Age ago.
kill him
The familiar voice burst into his mind, accompanied by a flash of cold lightning throughout his body. I need no further reason to gut the pig. Captain Travis bent his knees and came rushing towards Audrick like a centaur of the plains. Water went flying up as he did, splashing against his body as he spun his whole midsection into a wrathful two handed strike, sword singing through the cool air as he sought to bisect the bug that had resisted more than any other.
All I require is Power. He realised as he thought it that was all he had ever needed. Might enough to never flee his home, to never starve by the roadside nor suffer on fields of war he would never see the spoils from.
the only truth
It agreed in a heart pounding whisper, allowing coffers of ecstatic fury to flow into Audrick’s body, soothing the aches and sears of battle and promising an eternal glory of victory. In the blade that swung towards him, the boy could see an Oath of sorts reflected in its cold metal. That even if he committed the sin of defeat and laid yet another corpse at the Path’s gate. For once, he would seize the day on his own terms, with his very own Power, no matter its damned origin.
COME ON THEN!
He screamed a wordless wail into the air between the two and bolted towards the executionary strike.