To the Horizon
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing & I make nothing out of this.
...
Prologue: Oceans.
...
Lord Julien took a step onto the docks and became absolutely certain that he would never forget this one moment – the moment the self digestion of his insides finally stopped.
His unsteady vision finally stood still, and he blinked, allowing himself to survey the docks of the harbour he had just arrived at. Theirs was only ship that had come from across the sea and was currently set at port; the rise of monsters breaching the Greatwall had something to do with the fear that was burying its roots into Gransys. His ears had heard snippets of gossip between his crew and the docks workers, something about a dragon.
"Hmph...Dragon." He muttered.
The sun was beginning to set, spreading its brilliant crimson and honey rays across the sky, bleeding into the great blue sea bellow for as far as the eye can see. Patiently, he waited until the few essentials he brought with him were unloaded from his ship and carried to the town's inn by his servant. Julien took the time to observe the uneasy fishermen as they tied their boats to the posts, carried their barrels of sea delicacies, and constantly looking up at the horizon. Each motioning the other to move a little bit faster. Seems as if no one was willing to be out during nightfall; perhaps the darkness brought the feeling of impending doom closer.
"Are you sure about this, Lord Julien?" Julien was quickly pulled out of his musings when his servant spoke. And he frowned.
"It's no longer a matter of what I want, it's a matter of what must be done."
The young man looked dejected as he glanced at the boat, ready to set sail back over the ocean home – but without their valued knight. Julien, turned and placed a firm hand on the boys right shoulder. The action felt a little strange, but was necessary. His servant was only a young man and accompanying Julien was all he had known.
"There are dark times ahead, and I must ensure this country receives the aid required of our homeland."
"But will you return?" He asked, not a single trace of hope remained.
Julien promptly removed his hand as his name was called from a small group of knight waiting for him by the inn directly up the road. "Don't worry yourself with my welfare, I will write to the Demesne about my progress when time allows it. Go."
The boy trudged onto the ship. And soon, the flags were raised and the lanterns burned bright when the vessel sailed off.
He walked out of the deserted docks to the small gathering of knights and inn help waiting for him.
A rather short knight bearing the crest of Gran Soren, wearing dashing red and yellow greeted him first. "Lord Julien! It's an honour to have you here in Gransys and standing before me in the flesh. The Duke praises your good name Sir," His expression darkened, "I'm sure you will aid us in seeing these dark times through. Anyhow, I am Ser Maximilion, a commander under direct order of the Duke, I am to see you safely to Gran Soren in the morning Sir."
After an all too familiar churning in his belly, Julien simply nodded his approval; he couldn't trust himself to speak without bringing up last nights dinner in front of a Commander, and the ogling knights frantically looking back and forth between them.
"We are to set off at dawn, the inn we have prepared is the finest on the coast and hopefully will cater to your needs for the night, I will send a messenger in the morning to escort you to the gate."
With a steady breath Julien replied, "Very well, I thank you for your kind hospitality."
Who he presumed to be the innkeeper stepped in and collected the last of the luggage, "This way Sir, you'll enjoy the view from the second floor it's all-" Julien absently followed as the Commander and his knights left in the opposite direction down the calm streets of the small fishing town.
First impression? Gransys appeared to be a nice place, but as barren since the last time he visited as a young boy. It's puzzling how grey and brown their cities were. Nothing like the dynamic architecture of his countries homes, or the coloured pattern glass in their grand cathedral. Clothing, weaponry and even food was different here on Gransys, there was something very raw, or even primordial about this place. Simple yet strong. It was no wonder Julien had jumped at the first opportunity to come back.
However the less refined side of him swore he heard the distant hustle and bustle of a local tavern, his exhausted body ached when he remembered what sailing did to him. The ship...the ocean...sailing. Sailing was always bad in his books but for now he was going to need a nap before drinking. A long nap.
ooOoo
"Nope, no, Not even if he were the Duke."
Quina pointed at yet another group of cat-calling men passing them up the hill to the tavern.
"You are just on fire today aren't you cous'?" Halibel continued to slowly peel the skin off the red apple with a large hunting knife. Her hand gripped the fruit tightly as the long and thick blade glided beneath the skin and leaving a trail of juicy beads. She paused momentarily to bask in a sudden fresh breeze that came when purple started to colour the sky. It brushed her high cheeks and ran through waist length ash black hair.
Quina raised a small sheet of crimson silk against her much taller friends sizeable bosom "Hmm, what do you think about this colour?"
Halibel studied the vibrant fabric, and the way it shimmered against the light held her pitch black eyes captive. Cassardis was too far for exceptionally rare goods to regularly come through the markets, and considering fine materials like silk originate overseas Gran Soren was always given priority. The appearance of vicious creatures ravaging common trading routes didn't help with regular supply lines either.
She said, "I've never seen such a bright red, did that merchant from Gran Soren stop by again?"
Quina giggled and the sound was sweeter then any bird singing at dawn, "Yes, I got as much as I could get my hands on before the other tailors picked his stall into a carcass." she returned to the sewing project on her lap, a dress for Halibel in spite of her protests.
Halibel remarked "It's a gorgeous red." and taking a moment to watch her friend nimbly thread a needle.
"Not as gorgeous as you will be when I finish this dress...maybe you can finally ask Valmiro out for a date when you have the confidence," A knowing smile spread across Quina's face.
"Oh just...just - Here." Halibel rolled her eyes and handed her half of the skinned apple and they proceeded to quietly munch on their picnic snack, listening to the soft hiss of running thread and the waves crashing onto the shoreline. A strange but calming melody.
From their vantage point at the edge of the plateau just before the church walls, she watched as a huge ship left port. It's the grandest Halibel has seen dock at the port in months, and wondered who was stupid enough to travel from anywhere to here of all places. Gransys was no holiday destination.
"Tsch, foreigners." She plucked another apple from the small basket at her side and began peeling once more.
Suddenly, "Darn the Duke's flaming panties!" Halibel stared wide eyed at Quina, waiting for an explanation."Sorry cous' I left my white thread back at your house." She wore an expression of utter pain, as if her world had just ended. "I'll go get it, my knife is getting blunt either way."
Halibel slowly got up from her backside and headed off whilst her cos resumed her activity. There probably wasn't a thing in this world she wouldn't do for her because Quina's heart was sweeter then anyone she had ever cared to know. Her warm eyes and sweet smile enraptured her from the first time she saw Quina lying in the crib as a newborn, it was also the time Halibel first felt love and hope as a troubled child of seven years.
She strolled leisurely down the sandy streets of the fishing town, her sharp eyes instinctively following the fireflies dancing in the shadows of the sunset. Her feet tracing the familiar path up the hill without effort. So much time had come and gone, it will only be a few more years until she was thirty. Thirty, unmarried, and childless because no man had ever given her as much as a promise, despite her half hearted effort, and much of Quina's.
"Gah!" She stubbed her little toe on the concrete side of the stairs and quickly clutched her foot. She stared at the bleeding graze more then she should. Surely the thought of being single hadn't gotten her that grumpy? Was she so unapproachable? Unpredictable? Masculine? Perhaps. Although she had no shortage of willing lovers, there came a time when fun and games hindered the search for a serious partner. But even so, she was till proud of the strength her wide square shoulders provided when she swam in the ocean. Her height was greater than most men of Cassardis, allowing her to climb higher, reach further and fight harder. The defined muscles spoke of her struggle as an outcast, part of a distant past Quina helped her overcome. No matter, she still had lots of time left until marriage and love became a priority and for now she was content to enjoy hard work on the docks, as well as the smithery.
Halibel had contemplated a move to Gran Soren. She had only been there once with the Chief, but it was a rushed visit and difficult to recall, "All in good time, all in good time." She mumbled before opening the door and walking into her home.
ooOoo
Finally I have it, she thought.
It felt as if a century past just finding the slippery little spindle of thread, it's a miracle the sun lit up the house enough to still see anything.
"You're as troublesome as my cous' you little spindle." It was rather small, the size and width of her finger and wound tight with brown thread.
Not wanting to keep her friend waiting she locked the home up and moved quickly down the steps – being careful this time around, and trotted off down the hill and into the main square.
What on the maker is that? She came to a stop.
The spindle fell in her pocket and she cocked her head to one side. It was a man. A strange looking man. Tall with blonde hair that resembled the many yellows and browns of sand, it swept backwards and just touched the back of his broad shoulders, his striding gait was graceful but controlling, his posture straight and stoic.
"Breath women," she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose to momentarily regain her bearings.
She narrowed her eyes. His clothing was royal blue and yellow, steel toed boots were shin high and leather pants were clearly of foreign craftsmanship. And was that an actual sword at his hip? He was not a commoner, or one of her own fisher-folk, but a pure-bred nobleman. The unrelenting, ruthless, self-righteous type that stepped all over her kind; the desire for impending calamity was begging to make her blood rush.
A little pinch couldn't hurt...could it? She'd be in and out in a flash, just like old times. Quina would never have to know. Before she even realised it, Halibel rubbed her hands together and stalked closer to the target, she observed his hips carefully. Years of practice taught her what to look for. No coin pouch? No matter, all it would take is a bump against him and she could figure out where he kept the goods.
The rush of the hunt, the thrill of the steal, a long forgotten feeling.She forgot to resist. She couldn't resist.
Halibel made her steps louder, purposeful, and tucked her hands in the pockets of her skirt to emit a soft rustling. Friendly noises lowered the suspicion - and she rejoiced as she had him in her net. She was close enough to pick up his acquired salty scent, close enough to see him seemingly untroubled by the proximity.
The moment she saw it her heart suddenly felt heavy, beating hard and furiously as she suddenly wrestled with the twitch in her hand that urged her closer. His eyes, those deep coral blue eyes were sharper then her hunting blade and clearer then any pool of water she immersed herself in. Even the fragments of emerald made her think of dancing ripples on the ocean. She was suddenly filled with the memory of lying in the sea alone, water running through her hair and flowing against her skin; holding her, cradling her, in a hypnotic weightless suspension.
Her feet stopped and her hand suddenly felt heavier then any amount of gold this man could possibly hold. He stood still. A vice grip suddenly found her wrist and tore it away; caught red handed, right in his pocket and sending chilling waves of electricity over her skin.
I...fucked up. I actually fucked up, She thought.
"Better a hard working woman then a petty thief," as Quina used to mention.
Halibel felt her stomach drop as the noblemen turned his head ever slightly to the side. Those ocean orbs glared at her with the fury of a tumbling wave.
All composure was lost, "You seemed t-to have dropped it, I was trying to put it b-back."
He raised an eyebrow, ignoring her words "You're a petty thief?"
Petty? Petty thief? It may have been an era ago but she darn well was more then just a petty thief. With grit teeth she said, "R-release me," her arm beginning to ache as her hand lost its feeling.
He let go and she immediately stepped away from him to nurse the sore joint, her fingers lingering over the warmth his rough hand left.
"You keep your head today. Consider it a charity," He said, those eyes twinkled in amusement as they lingered on her just a moment longer.
No, not a noblemen, but worse. A Knight. He turned and continued on his way nonchalantly.
Her mouth hung open, and the airy-fairy state of her mind was suddenly dragged to the surface, "Keep your sophistry up your backside! And I'm not petty."
Her long legs carried her down the sandy track and a grin spread on her face at the sound of metal unsheathing, clearly a futile attempt to frighten her. At least that is what she told herself. And as quickly as she appeared, she was gone, nothing left but a lone knight, and the horizon.
…..
Part 1: Two knights, an elf, and a few pawns.
…..
One year later...
Hiss! Crunch.
What on -
"Keep it down for goodness sake!" Halibel clutched the sheets against her elven ears. Sensitive hearing has robbed her of too much sleep, too many times.
Boom!"Hyd-...-lp!...-en?...Arisen!"
She could have sworn someone was whispering in her- "ARISEN!"
Halibel tumbled out the small cot and became entangled in white sheets. Her white world suddenly moved as she was dragged by her ankles out of the tent and she thrashed about.
"You will never take me alive scum-bag!" The calming symphony of muffled nature suddenly exploded in manly screams of pain and panic. Suddenly red blood splattered over the white sheets.
A familiar voice called out right above her. "Master! The sheets, it has no defence against the Hydra!"
Halibel fought the urge to face-palm. "It's not meant to– just untangle me!"
The sheets were pried off and she was suddenly faced with the sight of a burning Encampment in her night wear. Smoke blocked out the clear morning sky and fire razed uncontrollably. Knights were running away from them and trying to fasten on their armour just as three giant grey spheres moved about in smoke.
"Here master." A quiver with three arrows and an old, dry longbow was pushed in her hands. But Halibel got to her feet and squinted in the smoke, feeling her breath hitch - black eyes, three sets of beady black eyes.
She gaped, "By the maker..." and turned to her left and right, desperately looking for an sort of escape, but one giant head launched itself towards her, a long thick scaled neck propelling it at full speed. She leaped away and landed face first in the ground, her night clothes now stained with dirt and her arm stung soon followed by running blood.
The same pair of hands quickly dragged her into cover behind a tree. "You are hurt master! Where is your armour?!"
"I-it's nothing." She pushed him away and staggered to her feet. The tree wasn't much good for cover so she peered out. Everything save the fort walls were destroyed, the only way out was blocked and the giant three headed serpent beast was swallowing up soldiers forwards and back. Smoke whirled around it's thick body and it crushed crates and tents as it slowly slithered forward, as if enjoying watching the knights futile attempt to pelt it with arrows and swords.
She groaned, "We have to fight don't we?"
In response her newly acquired main pawn smiled widely and nodded in approval.
"Alright then, attack!" Halibel yelled, darting from the tree. The giant well built warrior rushed forward in a flash of silver towards the base of the Hydra's body, faster then his figure would appear to allow.
"Aim for the head! 'tis it's weakness." said a little Mage suddenly appearing beside her. The staff she carried was bigger then her yet it glowed and suddenly released fire balls, her intricately embroidered robes glowing with incendiary magic as she did. The great beast gave a loud hiss as it was suddenly occupied by flashes of silver and another pawn armed to the teeth wielding a huge shield and ramming it's opposite flank. He wasn't a big as the other but he was certainly resiliant.
"Was wondering when you two would show up Morrigan."
"Do not hesitate master, Alistair and Trunks have it confused, strike quickly while we can!"
"R-Right!" Halibel jogged back a few steps, drew the long bow with an arrow, and aimed. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the beasts whirling head. The giant serpent hissed as blood sprayed from its flanks, its heads nipping at the two pawns. Halibel suddenly tumbled back forward as a sudden wave of knights sprawled back into the fray.
"Breath master, and aim true. We have one chance!" Morrigan dragged Halibel back on her unsteady feet. This was a darn Hydra! How on Gransys can it be defeated with a little mage, a meat shield and walking giant?!
"It's a damn Hydra Morrigan! Can't we run?! I'm sure Mercedes won't mind."
"Master please, attack!"
Once again she drew an arrow and focused onto the creatures neck, standing still and letting her breathing slow. The sounds around her quickly muffled as all that was left on the field was her, and the bloody Hydra.
Suddenly the ground in front of her caught aflame as an explosive barrel...exploded. This time Halibel rolled to one side, got up quickly, and turned around.
"Shit."
The explosion left everyone momentarily stunned. And her, alone. Frantically she backed away and looked for an arrow; her quiver was no longer at her back. With dread, her eyes slowly cast back helplessly to her demise. The Hydra lay poised, straight and still.
Something glowed on its head as it looked downwards at her.
Vibrant red...such a pretty...red. Reminds me of that dress Quina made me months ago. It looks kinda familiar...an eye...a line... sort of like a-
Jaws opened wide and saliva dribbling out. It struck forward.
"Arisen!"
A flash of silver leapt in between and smashed his body against the head, knocking a fang clean out in a mess of blood. The Hydra screeched and reared back, head tossing wildly.
As quick as the hero came he disappeared, "T-Trunks? where are you?!" Sometimes it surprised her how strong her main pawn really was.
"Arisen, I h-have it!"
All three of Halibels pawn were suddenly climbing up the beasts neck and hacking away and trying to reach the head as the monster screamed and swayed.
There was still a lot she had to learn in being an Arisen, "Wait for me!" Driven by fear and anger at her reckless pawns, not a single care was given as the elf mounted the monster and gave a savage war cry before she hacked at it with her hunting knife. The skin was tougher than any animal hide that she had ever worked with. Her whole world tossed and turned and looped back round in nauseating speed, it was almost like flying, the creature moved about in strange angles and fluidity.
"UUUFUUU E AAAAFAA."
She looked down and gasped in horror, her main pawn was nowhere to be seen. "He is in the belly of the beast!" Exclaimed Morrigan before she was flung across the field and out of sight. Halibel gasped in sheer horror. The kicking and twitching mound of scales below her confirmed it.
"Nobody-" she gave it a stab, "fucks-" she punched, "with my minions!"
Boom.
Fire bit at her face and she was suddenly weightless for a heart stopping, calming moment, and with a huge thud she fell back first onto the ground.
Halibel was painted with monster blood, her ears rang and her vision blurry and slow. The screeching slowly died down and the sky cleared from grey to blue. Scents of blood, sweat and burnt wood lingered in her nose. Is it over? Surely it had to be. She did not want to turn away from the blue sky, fearing what she might see.
"Arisen, pray, get up." That voice sounded familiar.
"Master, I got you, it's safe now." So did that one.
"The beast ran! Victory! Hoozah!" No, not that one.
"We actually won?" Her voice croaked, this was going to lead to some serious headache later, she could doubly tell.
"That was a grand win for all of us Arisen, be still while your pawn heals you...and then we fill up on wine!" She knew exactly who that person in particular was and smiled when a round face framed in short black hair and a wide proud smile to boot, filled her vision. A multitude of faces crowded her sight, watching.
"Mercedes...what's the damage? Where's my other pawn?"
Nobody said anything when suddenly Halibel's dreary eyes shot open and a rush of vigor surged through her. From sitting on her butt she leapt and darted towards the severed head of the Hydra, a pair of legs kicked about and Halibel grabbed his ankles and dragged her pawn out.
"That must surely not be pleasant." said Mercedes.
"I hope he's still alive!" She couldn't bear the thought of losing her first pawn so soon. The huge limp frame suddenly jumped and grabbed the ankles of Morrigan who yelped in surprise.
A mat of slimy silver hair stuck to his forehead and sharp jawline, he looked up at her, panting for air and unsure on how to react. "We have-" He panted, "Triumphed."
ooOoo
The fires were put out and any damaged walls were reinforced to at least endure the next few days. Regardless of the great number of casualties the men went about aiding the injured and repairing tents with a pep in their step and a tune on their lips.
"Ow, too tight." Halibel hissed when the bandage on her elbow was pulled; her main pawns large rough hand were not meant for treating wounds although he seemed willing to do the job. They all sat around the camp fire and Morrigan was too busy treating Alistair's wounds and keeping the cooking pot from burning their dinner. She grinned as she watched her swipe him over the head with a nonchalant expression as the shield-and-sword bearing pawn kept scratching his bandages.
"My apologies master." He said, bringing the Arisen our of her musing. Trunks, her right hand pawn in crime was as strange as any pawn she had met, a hollow vessel waiting to be filled with knowledge and adventure with the Arisen. Ever since he had answered her call from the Rift stone she'd catch him practising her smiles and scowls as they went about travelling the countryside. But for the greater part he'd slip into a vacant expression, so void of everything human Halibel regarded him as a potential risk. Trunks is very well built, he is tall, sturdy and burly but swift on his feet, his milky coffee skin matched her own and his eyes are a pale light blue, contrasting the silver short cut hair.
Halibel frowned as her eyes travelled further up his solid jaw. His pointy ears, an insulting memento of her dead race.
Adaro couldn't explain how or even why Trunks answered her call from the Rift, but he told her a tale of how pawns that answer to an Arisens touch have never been seen before. In that sense her pawn was like a newborn adult and she theorised with Quina: was he simply 'forged' out of a desire for another elven companion? 'Matched' to her on some sort of compatibility basis? An echo of a repressed memory?
Quina had suggested the last theory.
"Sorry, uh, thanks." She said. He finished off by tying the two edges of the bandage together and shifted to face the fire. From the corner of her eye Halibel saw him slipping into that expression she couldn't stand: Vacant.
Getting up on her feet she said, "I'm just going to get some air." and left their makeshift camp site, ignoring the fact that they were already under the night sky.
A few mobs of more then buzzed soldiers could be heard laughing at the other side of camp followed by Mercedes singing. A grimace crossed the Arisens face, should they really regard her so...casually?
Halibel strolled out the camp walls and crossed her arms at the biting wind. The moon was out in full view and already in the middle of the sky, Quina ought to be in bed by now. She sat atop a raised flat rock face overlooking the dark beach below. The two friends had argued just before she left and Halibel cringed at the memory of losing her temper and storming out with poor Trunks in tow. She wasn't ready to go back and face her. Not yet.
"It's dangerous to be outside the walls at nightfall. Have too much to drink?" Came a thick sultry accent, only just stumbling on the 's'.
She turned to find Mercedes behind her, beaming with pride and slight intoxication as well as a flask of Cloudwine in her hand.
"N-No, the day was long and I worry about my family."
The lady knight awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, pensive, "I understand, but what can one do? I know wine can sooth the woes in such a stressful time."
Halibel simply grinned. Something about Mercedes really put her at ease, even the first time they met they had gotten along very well. She admired her unyielding attitude and somewhat boisterous personality.
"Arisen, I thank you for what you did today, we leave for Gran Soren in the morning with the Hydra in tow, and it would make a fine gift to the Duke...my men can finally hold their heads high." Her voice trailed off in a wistful tone.
Without another word she placed the flask beside the Arisen and quietly left.
She grinned and decided not to mention again how it was one of her own knights who threw an explosive barrel skyhigh and blown the Hydra head clean off. Mercedes would hear none of it, preferring the idea that the Arisen had helped rally the men in a battle of blazing glory against a three-headed evil. Halibel smiled and took a long drink from the flask and sighed, Cassardis isn't going anywhere, and when this Arisen business is over there wont be a thing that could ever stop her from leaving her beloved fishing town.
Not now, not ever.
ooOoo
The sickening sound of bone breaking was not enough to waver him. The second Julien showed any form of hesitation his men would lose their already fragile morale, and the mighty beast in front of them would gain the upper hand.
The breaking dawn had been relaxing and rather uneventful at Windbluff tower until a pawn staggered into the fort, injured, and exhausted, warning them of the winged fire breathing threat. At first Julien simply didn't believe it, firmly convinced the empty vessel was delusional until the creature destroyed an outlying storehouse aside the castle. Right at their doorstep.
It was technically not a dragon, but more of the lesser of the dragonkin, perhaps even an infant as it was only slightly smaller then a chimera, but much more clumsy. One massive reshuffle later and Julien's men were barely holding the line, they could not let the young dragon any further down the trail then it already was. If they lost the north, they would lose everything.
The red eyes were wide and glaring, it's large head swinging side to side and taking in it's opponent. The once glorious red wings now hung crooked and torn and it's back leg is severely deformed and much smaller then the rest. And the heart? Glowing red and ozzing a thick liquid from a single protruding arrow. A sign of an unfortunate soul lucky enough to expose it before their demise. A sudden rain of arrows barraged it from above, it only got angry and the hide still remained unscathed from the blades of knights striking and dodging it's snapping jaws and swiping front arms. Their crushed comrade lying lifeless beneath the back legs only seemed to fuel their attempts.
Suddenly the creature reared up its hind legs and began flapping it's broken wings furiously, a sudden heat wave could be felt coming directly from it's mouth.
"Move out!"
The knights immediately scattered away from the creature as it released a scorching jet stream of flames, incinerating anything in its direct path.
Julien just managed to dodge the worst of it as his shield protected him from the rest. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead and trailed his neck, the heat it emitted was incredible and made him feel as if he were roasting alive within his armour.
The creature screeched and crashed onto its side on the ground, another round of arrows from above hampered it. Julien drew his cudgel and charged forward again shield at the ready and humming with holy magic, this window of opportunity was not going to last long. No one followed as he charged across the grass towards the flailing beast, no one but him. Only one area seemed to do any damage and, with incredible agility he easily sidestepped its kicking limbs and he lunged forward with all he could muster, aiming at the glowing, oozing heart.
Fear did not hold him back.
"Maggot!"
A moment hesitation,"It...speaks?", a large claw immediately seized him with a strangling grip and both weapon and shield slipped out of his grasp.
It really spoke.
In its claws all the trapped knight could do was struggle as he was brought right up towards the creatures massive jaws.
Good Maker, he was about to be eaten alive and be picked clean from the bone.
"Time to die."
He fell still at the monster piercing gaze; its bright eyes, held him and he could no longer struggle or even think. His mind...captivated. Kill. Must...Kill. Must-
Suddenly, the wind rushed out of his lung and a deafening scream echoed painfully in his head,"AUUUUUGH! The pain!" Julien hit the ground back first.
His commanding unit of knights surged forward and managed to land a hit on the heart. The dragon like creature tossed its body back and forth in desperation to shake off the humans latched on.
Ignoring the swaying of his vision Julien picked up his weapon and landed a final blow to the dying creatures bleeding core. It literally erupted in blood, bone and bits of flesh and hit the ground in its death throw.
"Finally."
It was the third monster attack in the past week. And Julien's patience with a certain cult leader was wearing thin, he could only allow so much death for the greater good before it started to become an unnecessary waste of life.
He slumped onto one knee and used his cudgel as a crutch to keep him from toppling over. A few steady hands helped drag him over to the physicians tent that had just been set up right on the field. Whilst a physician removed his upper armour and tended to his bruised and lacerated torso Julien stayed put ontop a crate and supervised the clean up. The amount of bodies and injured were lower this time, and even then no one seemed to be celebrating, his men passed by or greeted their Commander with grave faces or overly formal greetings. He could feel their frustration, their struggle to not simply up and leave as the dead were wrapped in linen and loaded onto the carts. The heat lingered and began to worsen with the rising sun in the distance, the day has yet to start and it was already a scorching forecast.
The physician gave him the all clear after slapping on some bandages, salve and carefully refitting his armour. The exhausted knight only got a few steps out of the crowded tent before he was ambushed by little Pip and his errand boys. Always conveniently disappearing and appearing at the worst time. Pip was the youngest scruffy looking one who gave a stiff salute before giving a toothy grin.
"Lord Julien, eight casualties reported and dozens more serious injured and the armoury and supply house are at the lowest levels. A report has already been prepared to hand over to the Duke about the Wyrm-like creature and will arrive before you return to Gran Soren."
The boys turned to leave, but immediately, Julien placed a hand on Pip's shoulder and felt hime jump beneath the sudden contact. His demeanour immediately changed, eyes narrow and jaw clenched, the boys exchanging quick glances amongst each other in confusion.
"You are dismissed, you stay. Go."
"S-Sir is-"
Julien glanced around, no one seemed to be paying them any attention "That is incorrect."
The young boy babbled nervously, "But I was told by-"
"Do not question me, remember this; The rations to the North had still not arrived, our defences were compromised, and there is sign salvation may have had a hand in this. Oh and, no report, the Duke shall know of this by the mouths of others. Understood?" All was said quietly but clearly with an eerily soft smile, he loosened a small coin pouch from his pocket. Pip nodded and eyed the knight, but quickly it turned into a toothy grin at the slight jingle the pouch made as it landed on his hands."Be swift. You know the drill."
The boy quickly bolted after his companions already a ways down the long and dangerous trail. Without a second glance the Knight returned to Windbluff fortress. Upon arrival he quickly began preparing for the long and arduous journey back to the Capital, and as he cleaned his weapon a whiff of burning flesh assaulted his senses.
Good. The body of the creature was better off erased permanently.
ooOoo
He was escorted by the small convoy carrying the dead and arrived at Gran Soren a day after the attack. His men were tended to at the army's barracks when they arrived and Julien immediately headed towards the Duke's Demesne, ensuring to take the scenic route through the warm sunny town square.
Without disappointment a familiar voice broke the serene noises of the markets.
"Rumour of Salvations tendrils leeching the defences of the Northern stronghold have surfaced! Lord of the stronghold claims 'missing' supplies, who amongst the high ranks would allow Salvation access to arms and at the cost of a comrade?! The people-"
Not exactly how he would have liked it worded, but Julien was content at the gossip of the nobles and commoners that were sure to irritate the other Lords to no end by the time Court was called.
He arrived at the gate and a familiar Commander greeted him, "Ser Maximillian?"
"Good day Lord Julien, good thing I have found you first as the Duke has summoned you. Given the circumstance, please do not speak with anyone else about the surfacing rumours; the last thing we need is for salvation to overreach their grasp and make another serious attempt."
The Knight eyed the Commander "Of course." Maximillian didn't seem to suspect him of anything, and rightfully so.
Julien entered into the Demesne, and passing through the door he instantly noticed how busy it suddenly was; the kitchen hands and maids gossiped as they rushed back and forth, the knights looked more then excited as they greeted him with reserve. A little too excited. Nobody lingered long enough for him to put together the pieces of what may have just happened. Even that blasted Feste was looking glum at the lack of attention.
Concerned, Julien headed directly for the private Solar room on the second floor to find the Duke, calmly gazing out the windows; crimson curtains opened at the slightest to reveal a hint of large windows overlooking Gran Soren. Julien bowed, and the Duke quickly raised a hand in response.
"It is a fine day Ser Knight, is it not?" He said, voice deep with a hint of amusement.
"Perhaps." No, it is not.
The Duke grunted and turned to face him, a faint grin outlined the aged man's face contrasting the thick set beard he had. His eyes, only starting to wrinkle at the side gleamed at the Knights sudden concern.
"I have been made 'aware' of what transpired in the North, I wish to know the situation in your words."
Effortlessly, he spoke "A Wyrm-kin wondered too close to the tower, destroyed the defences only recently repaired. I have been aware of 'signs' of some other hand in these occurrences given to me by my informants, but it is not my wish for this incident to cause people to start pointing swords. The Stone of the North will remain strong no matter who...is undermining us." A ghost of smile threatened to creep onto his face.
"I can ask of nothing more." said the Duke, perhaps a bit too carelessly. "I can already imagine what the other Lords are going to say when I convene Court...although, to have one of our own fraternise with Salvation is unnerving. No matter young Lord, we are in for more hope then we ever dared to grasp." His tone trailed off cheerily as if recalling a found memory and instantly dismissing the point of the meeting with a shrug.
That was not what he had expected the ruler of Gransys to say. Julien cocked his head to one side, concerned "Ser?"
The Duke resumed gazing out from between the curtains, his posture as upright and alert as ever, he certainly did not appear his age. "The Arisen has arrived in Gran Soren with a Hydra head in tow; people are rejoicing."
Juliens eyes widened. "H-Hydra, the serpent beast?!"
"Slain by the Arisen herself, in the Encampment of all places..." The Duke's voice trailed off to irritation.
Julien scowled. The Encampment? Lady Mercedes charge, of course that women would allow the situation to escalate in the first place and simply laugh it off as a 'challenge for the mighty'. "You can not permit this incompetence on the Lady's part Ser, how is there celebration for this lack of vigilance? Preserving the favour of the house of Marten should not-"
"Calm yourself young Lord, these beast's will not breach our walls or the stronghold as long as I breath. As for Hearthstone, they have upheld the agreement. I will hear no argument against the Lady."
"Then must we rely on the base legend of Arisen's and Dragon's to-" A sinister yet throaty chuckled emitted from Dukes throat, cutting the Knight short. The Duke sighed and pinching the bridge of his thick nose he continued, "Legend or not, it's what is holding the fabric of hope together, do you understand the notion Lord Julien?"
"My Lord Edmund! Oh?" Both men turned. A short, little lady in a stunning pink and white dress stood at the door way, eyes nervously moving back and forth.
"Speak Aelinore" Edmund commanded. The little lady gasped and quickly responded, "They are bringing the Hydra head out front, it was brought to honour you my dear, may we go see it together?" Her wide green eyes twinkled and she gave a small hopeful smile. Julien was familiar with the petite moon faced young lady, the Duke's wife. Although they had only ever exchanged formal pleasantries; amongst the long list of people the Knight didn't enjoy dealing with, she was not one. The Duchess, Aelinore, was thoughtful, lovely, and surprisingly perceptive – even Julien got a little flustered in their brief encounters. But only for a moment.
"I will take my leave." He said.
He's seen them interact before and it was something he'd rather not be caught in between again. As he made his way out, he could feel the reigning Edmunds gaze observe him. There was no way of knowing what the Dragonsbane truly knew about the situation amongst the Lords of Gran Soren.
Straight away Julien made his way to the courtyard, eager as anyone else to see the trophy. He felt a lingering dread at the pit of his stomach; Salvation will be panting about like dogs in the next meeting, he can already imagine how the next encounter with Elysion would go.
In a rare move the gates to the Demesne were completely raised, and the castles occupants made their way into the courtyard ahead surrounded by knights. The place was buzzing with excited chatter as they were all trying to get a view amongst the thick bodies pressing against the boundaries the knights had set up.
"That's the Arisen right there."
Julien slid through the thick crowd towards the front, ignoring the shocked eyes that followed him. A massive cart harnessed to a resting Bison was displayed in the middle and the head, was incredible, many times larger then a man's body, its ash black scales glistened under the sunlight as did its beady grey eyes, all dead and glazed over. Not far from the display he easily spotted Lady Mercedes grinning, surrounded by her escort and accepting all manner of praise from the people who dared venture closer to examine the giant head. That women.
Ignoring her, his eyes swept the crowd for a short hunched figure clad in black robes and lurking in the shadows.
"...There! That's the Arisen!"
"...they say she's a fisher– "
"...A peasant? The Arisen? What's next, flying chickens?"
"Blasphemy! It's an elf!"
"..I thought those creatures were...extinct."
"...Beautiful and– "
"...Looks like she could have wrestled that beast single handedly– "
The Arisen appeared from just behind the head a distance away, surrounded by three other companions with confused looks and carefully eyeing any party who ventured too close.
Julien was surprised that she was indeed an elf, and rather tall, more so then Mercedes. Dark, graceful, indeed one of the fisher-folk. By his observation she was probably used to hauling nets full of fish into tiny canoes, she probably had the grace and patience for taking care of children, maybe even rescued a fellow fisher from drowning on a stormy night at sea. A true role model for her town...Cassardis. He frowned, unsure of what to make of this.
Her hair was tied up high in a single tail and its pitch black form was incredibly long, about thigh length and it amused him to think that it swayed with her body in a manor that reminded him of a stallion. She spoke to her companions with concern, her eyes wide and full of emotion and thought, and her lips – his curiosity piqued– a much lighter caramel colour then her skin with a hint of peach. Well, she did have nice lips, if he looked closer, maybe he could see a bit–
He felt warmer then the sun normally made him feel. And another thought struck him square in the face, preventing him from delving further, much to his relief.
How on Gransys was an elf in the city? From what he could recall, the elven race had gone extinct decades ago, nearing a full century with no sightings of native roaming tribes or even half blood bastards running around the slums. In his home country the few who resided in the cities were eventually bred out and the iconic ears long gone from anyone's memory. And here she was, being hailed their salvation like a relentless chant from the Faith. Julien had enough excitement for the rest of the century, and still a little heated from his moment of distraction he nearly pushed his way out if the Arisen had not suddenly wondered closer. Tantalising him.
The women was in much closer view, her lips parted ever so slightly in a soft gasp and her brow furrowed as her eyes trailed along the grand structure behind him. The companions immediately strut at her side, vacant as pawns ever were save for the brawny silver haired brute who seemed just as curious about the structure. If it were not for the stiff demeanour of the pawn he would have dismissed him as an elven brother. They shared similar skin, same straight proud stance, same look in their eyes and-
He froze. Oh for the love of the maker.
ooOoo
Halibel stood in awe of the castle before her.
"Is that the Duke's...house?"
"I believe it is Master, more then just a house, a point of return to highly regarded Nobles, Knights, servants and important guests and Chamberlains."
She turned to her pawn just as he turned to her. They stared at each other, and Halibel narrowed her eyes, and he did the same, she widened them and he imitated, "Please stop that."
"Yes Master."
A firm hand grabbed her shoulder, she flinched and ever so slowly turned around with muscles rigid. People should never do that to a reformed thief unless they wanted a face full of throwing knives.
"Oh! Mercedes?"
She waved to the cart, there was certain dark look in her eyes, "The gift is being taken in to be preserved and displayed for all...but I, uh."
Halibel frowned, "The catch?"
The knight gave her an apologetic smile, "Just because a Hydra head was taken and you were touched by the Dragon does not mean you have proven yourself, absurd isn't it? You can't come in to meet the Duke yet, their words, not mine." Her eyes lowered, but glancing at her from beneath her lashes.
Halibel was certainly not surprised, "I get it. The feeling is sorta' mutual." But she couldn't help the pool of blood rush to her cheeks. Never mind that she dare to wield a sword against a mighty dragon, had the pawns bow before her feet and helped slay a mythical creature.
With a hearty laugh she threw her head back and slapped the Arisen lightly on the shoulder.
"We will show them our true power soon enough eh?! People will know your face and name, count on it Arisen. In the meantime might I recommend the Alehouse in the main square, tis' c'est Magnifique!"
With a wide smile, infected by the Knights good nature she said "I'll hold you to it."
"Until we meet again Arisen." She departed with her men in that all too casual manner.
ooOoo
The sun had long since gone past the middle of the sky, and for now Halibel was able to sidestep people asking about her Arisen business. For now, she could get away with being just another face on the street. But her kind was a beacon for moths to light, and it would only get worse.
The Ale house was as Mercedes described, awesome, and this time she simply settled for some food. Her pawns sat around her at the table and took inventory, as well also discovering what exactly certain items were for. Leaving nothing but bone and fruit skin on her bronze plate she turned her focus to the street, and watched as people and marketers wondered back and fro. It was soon to be the beginning of winter, and Halibel was curious to see how these folk differed from her fisher kin. They hung decorated baubles on lantern posts, the corners of roofs, plants, and flourished their stalls with fine vibrant coloured cloth and small painted pouches of sweet spices. There wasn't much of a difference except that the party would have already started. Theirs lasted the first week of frost, with little festivals at night and drinking towards late hours followed by the throwing of pie. In her opinion, throwing food was wasteful, unless it tasted awful or was directed at an enemy.
A little hand reached in her pocket and pulled out her coin purse.
"H-Hey!" In a mad rush she flung herself over the mid length wall and face planted the ground.
"Don't help me I can take a small child by myself thank you." She muttered at her pawn who drew his greatsword with bloody murder in his eyes. At least he was learning something about her.
She ran, quick as lightning, hot on the little child's worn leather boots. He looked back at her with a toothy smirk, eyes hidden behind matted dirty hair, his clothing, patched, freyed and faded. A slum child. She felt an anger well up in her as the scene became oddly familiar.
"Give me back my money you little shit!"
"No can do missus!"
The little boy led her in a wild chase weaving in and out of the main streets, making Halibel barrel into a few unfortunate souls who were in the way. The boy suddenly stopped in front of a bridge and cackled as he left the coin pouch on the ledge, suddenly leaping over it and disappearing in the blackness below. Befuddled, Halibel gathered her wits and looked over the edge of the bridge; she couldn't see anything. The boy would not have jumped unless he knew exactly where he was going.
"Good riddance."Without much thought she took her purse and placed it back on her pocket. It occurred to her too late: why would the child leave the money he had just taken and then...leave it he-
On instinct alone she flung her body against the nearest wall just as a kunai skimmed past her shoulder. Frantically she looked around.
Oh Maker.
She ran, weaving in and out of the alley streets as fast as she could, hearing light footsteps on the roof tiles above. As another kunai was flung in front of her, she reared up and double backed again but another flew past her chin and burying itself beside her feet.
Damn.
Blood pooled in her cheeks, "Show yourself and face me!" She screamed.
At first there was silence around her, but the Arisen kept her vigilance, constantly looking.
Left? Nothing. Right? No one. Up? And then she saw him.
"Hello there friend!" Came a deep booming voice from a heavy set man on the rooftop. Without a sweat the large man jumped, pulled out a long knife and stabbed the crack between bricks and glided to the ground.
"Friend? I ought to punch a thousand gold out of you, what are you playing at?!"
"No games, Arisen, I just wished to speak to you privately, even the walls are starting to grow ears."
"Not literally I hope." She sneered, hand twitching.
The man smiled and moved closer to her and into the light. He was shorter then she was, and wearing a fine cut sleeveless pale red tunic tied securely with a grey belt and black hide leather pants. His hair was cut so short it sprouted like cotton, as was his stubble all over his chin and upper lip. He regarded her with hard eyes and a knowing smile, his skin as dark as the earth.
"Who are you? Why did you just try to kill me, are you an assassin? I know one when I see one!"
He shook his head, "It's not your death I seek, but you Arisen. I believe we can aid each other a great deal, I simply had to ensure you were capable of handling the task."
Halibel frowned, "Alright, who are you then? Just answer me first."
He folded his arms and grinned, "I am Mason."