The second chapter is here! Yay! Thank you to all the readers and the reviewers!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Grado had a nice castle. Nice sturdy walls, lots of watchtowers, and lots of natural defense. There was a mountain range next to the castle perfect for the wyvern knights it was so famous for, even if those giant lizards were pests. Inside the castle itself, it wasn't too bad. A little old, but with a simple glance it was easy to see that the large structure was built to impress. Overall, Caellach liked Castle Grado. He imagined what the view would be like from the throne. That would be something to look forward to.

"I take it you've been summoned by the emperor as well."

Caellach recognized the voice by its hoarse, rasping lilt. "How nice to see you, Riev," he said. Both of them knew he didn't mean it.

Old. That described Riev pretty well. Caellach has seen old before, but with the priest, the word had a whole new meaning. That man was practically a walking skeleton. Under his moth-eaten robes, he had a hunch the size of a small house and eyes that were fixed in a permanent leer.

"Enjoying your new position as commander?" asked Riev. His eyes glinted. The creepy geezer was always up to something.

Caellach replied, "The pay's a bit better, I suppose."

"Had quite a bit of luck with your career, hm?" The old priest stepped closer. Caellach couldn't see the reason why he'd do that; his physical presence was not intimidating in the least.

"I suppose so."

"Your army's gone through its share of commanders, hm? Three, if I'm not mistaken, and no one saw the attacker in any of the three cases as though someone had simply stabbed them and vanished. Quite unfortunate, especially in a time period as short as five months... And very strange."

The red-haired man crossed his arms and glared down at Riev. "Strange? I don't see how you could possibly find that strange. People die everyday, you realize."

Riev grinned like a cat who had trapped a rat. "But not all of them die from axe wounds in the back, as your predecessors did. Shows the possibility of a traitor, hm? How very curious."

There was a pause, a moment when their eyes met and something intangible and almost benign passed between them.

Finally, Caellach replied, "How very curious indeed."

ooooo

Jehanna was a land of white dunes and blazing sun where you'd be hard-pressed to find a single drop of water. No clouds, just blue, blue, and more blue. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a cloud in Jehanna.

Then again, he hasn't been here for a long time.

"Jehanna sucks," muttered Caellach. It was just his luck to be stuck in a desert on orders from the emperor. There was nothing here but sand. It blew into his eyes, it got into his boots, and the air tasted gritty whenever he opened his mouth. Has the sand ever done anyone any good?

Axe in one hand, Caellach kicked a sleeping soldier who had dozed off in the shade of a cliff. "Get your lazy ass in gear before I chop it off!" he barked.

The soldier, still bleary-eyed, scrambled to his feet and grabbed his sword. "Yes sir!" he shouted. "I'll get my ass in gear, sir!"

Scoffing, Caellach watched him stumble in the direction opposite his post, probably acting on the sleepy fear of a man who knew how to look frightening with an axe. Caellach didn't bother telling him not to wander off. It certainly wouldn't be his fault if the soldier died from his own idiocy.

Behind him, someone spoke in what was probably supposed to be a hushed tone.

"The commander sure is irritable. I'm guessing he doesn't like Jehanna much."

"I think he's probably scared. The last three commanders all bit the dust, y'know? Won't take long 'til it's his turn."

The red-haired man whipped around and pointed his weapon at the two soldiers who had been talking behind his back.

"A word of advice," said Caellach. "I hate gossips. Whisper if you must. Don't assume I'm deaf."

The two soldiers didn't say much and they only nodded their heads, scared to even do that. Caellach grinned in satisfaction.

Maybe sticking tomahawks into their faces wasn't doing much for morale, but hell, standing around and waiting for the Renais twins was boring. Being able to terrorize people made it better. Sometimes, if he really scared them, they'd piss their pants. That was always worth it.

Finally, to the relief of the two unfortunate soldiers, Caellach put his tomahawk away. Without another word, he gathered up his sparse belongings and started to walk away. Then, as an afterthought, he grabbed two vulneraries from a nearby soldier.

"Hey!" he said. "Those are mi--" He looked up to see who had taken his vulneraries. He paled. "Erm... nevermind."

If there was one thing that soldiers were good at, it was recognizing the pecking order.

Caellach glanced back. "I'm leaving," he announced. Slowly, in the same small movements used to avoid provoking dogs, the soldiers nodded. No one seemed to object to his leaving.

The red-haired mercenary figured they didn't have the balls to stop him, not when they thought he could rip a horse in half with his bare hands. That particular rumour wasn't true, but if it kept them in line, he'd tell them he could shoot javelins through his nostrils. Scared men have swallowed taller tales.

"So," he said, "stick to your posts. Be good little soldiers, don't run off to booze or get laid. Try not to get lost and die. If anyone shows up while I'm gone, kill 'em, capture 'em... just do whatever you'd normally do."

Then, he gave them all a toothy grin.

"Don't forget to fight hard for the glory of Grado."

Maybe they caught the sarcasm in that last bit. Maybe they didn't. He turned and left.

For a while, he walked, just to get as fresh a breath of air as was possible in a stuffy desert. If he ever saw another grain of sand again, it would be too soon.

Before joining Grado as a freelancer, Caellach had been part of a mercenary troop. Fight or die. Become strong or die. Food had to be bought with money they rarely had and there was always lots of competition from rival troops. If an employer remembered your name, it was a miracle. Being a mercenary was an uphill battle..

He was near the top now. Hell if he gave a damn about the people he walked over and the toes he had stepped on.

Squinting, Caellach thought he saw something--no, it was just a shadow in the sand. Wait, since when did shadows wear skirts?

It wasn't a trick of the light; it was a blonde girl carrying a lance. Turning her head from side to side and casting glances all around, she seemed to be either searching for something or lost.

Those slender thighs sure seemed familiar.

"Hey!" yelled out Caellach. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Startled, the girl noticed him. For some reason, he didn't feel at all surprised to see that she had bright, green eyes or bangs that fell in neat rows across her forehead. Had he met her before?

Quickly, she turned and ran. Caellach raised an eyebrow. The only time girls ran from him like that was when he went after them with his axe. Shrugging the issue aside, he decided to chase after her.

"Hold on! Is there something on my face?"

Whoever she was, she didn't reply. The sun beat down on them, watching a man chase a girl across the dunes. Her footing was horrible and she stumbled more than once. She probably wasn't used to running on sand. Caellach smirked. Newbie.

Before long, he caught up and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Gotcha," he said.

At first, it looked as though she was going to turn around and face him, but she twisted away from his hand. Caellach just watched with mild amusement as she tripped with the next step she took and fell face first into the sand.

Caellach stood behind her and chuckled. She froze, body stiffening in fear like a quivering rabbit. He nudged her in the side with his foot. "Are you watching grass grow down there? You won't have much luck."

He extended his hand towards her. She stared back blankly like the last thing she expected to see was his hand held out to her like he was trying to help. Caellach sighed. "Look, I'm not usually a gentleman. Take my hand and get up before I change my mind."

Slowly, she grabbed his hand. He pulled her up and she dusted herself off. "Thanks," she said quietly.

She wasn't very tall, the top of her head maybe just reaching his chest. He looked down at her, his breath barely reaching her hair. The phantom touch of fingers brushed against his stomach. It dawned on him. "You're the new kid from five months back, Amanda."

"It's Amelia."

"Big difference, they both start with 'a'."

Caellach didn't recall having seen her among the soldiers he commanded. He definitely would've remembered if a little blonde girl like her had been under his command. Definitely.

"Did the king send another regiment?"

Amelia looked startled. "What?"

"Old whats-his-name, Vigarde, did he send another regiment here?"

"Oh..." She gave a slow, tentative nod.

Caellach noted the way she bit her bottom lip and how she avoided eye contact. He didn't really care if she was lying to cover her ass, not when he did it all the time. Maybe he'll ask if he ever feels interested enough.

Caellach pulled out two vulneraries and tossed them at her. "What are these for?" she asked.

"I hate owing people."

"I-I never said you owed me anything."

"You didn't need to. It's the way the world works."

She shoved them back at him and shook her head. "I don't need them."

He sighed. "Listen, you gave me two vulneraries, so I'm giving 'em back. Is that so hard to understand? Take 'em and shut up."

"But I can't!"

"Sure you can."

"But--"

Caellach wouldn't hear it. He just turned on his heel and started walking away. Maybe there was a tavern nearby. He told his soldiers they couldn't drink, but that certainly didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. He heard her footsteps behind him, soft thuds in the sand.

"Is there a reason you're following a strange man around?" He didn't turn around, just kept on plodding ahead with his eyes fixed on where he was going. Looking back was not a habit of his.

"I... I think it would be all right for me to follow you. You're not as bad as you seem."

He didn't stop walking. Two vulneraries did not constitute an act of goodwill.

"I'm no saint. Only stupid little girls follow me."

The sound of her footfalls didn't stop. If anything, she appeared to have closed the gap behind him, her shadow reaching farther in front of him than it had before.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned around, pulling his tomahawk out as he faced her. She just stood there, as innocent as could be, and stared back at him even though he had few reservations against taking her head off right there and then.

"Stop tempting me. I don't want the sand sticking to my axe when I cover it in your blood."

She didn't budge. "You're not the kind of person to kill without reason," she said.

Caellach scoffed. "What the hell do you know? Why the hell are you even here?"

He started walking again. This time, there were no footsteps of a person following in his wake.

There was no destination in his mind, not when every stretch of sand looked familiar until they blended into one wide expanse of drought and dry winds. His feet took him someplace he didn't recognize, but then he thought that maybe he had been lost from the beginning.

Damn all this sand.

Maybe it had been a bad idea to wander off into the desert. Once, he had tripped over a human skeleton that had been half-buried in the sand. If tripping people with his femur was all he had to look forward to as a lost man, he would have brought a map or something. Maybe that Amanda girl had one.

"Hey! You got a map?"

She wasn't there. Caellach looked around a little more and frowned. Well, he has gotten out of tougher spots. He did not go all this way just to die of dehydration, that was for sure. Trudging along, he tried retracing his steps back to his squad of soldiers. Then, he slowed to a stop.

Before Caellach had even turned around, he already noticed a presence behind him.

"If it isn't ol' Caellach," said Joshua. He tipped his hat to the axe fighter, his faint smile shadowed by the brim.

"Small world," said Caellach, turning to face Josua with a smirk. "How's the gambling thing working out for you?"

If there was one thing he learned from his time fighting with Joshua, it was how quickly the swordsman made bets he couldn't win. It wasn't the worst way to make money; a lucky man could take what little he had and become several times richer in the blink of an eye, but if Joshua's frequently empty pockets were any indication, he wasn't very lucky.

"Good, good. Heard you joined up with Grado," said Joshua.

"Yep. You know me, I like to join the winning side, make a name for myself instead of dying like a dog. No fun being on the losing side."

"Hate to do this to an old comrade, but I'm with Renais now." Joshua unsheathed his sword. "I need to make you pay."

Caellach raised an eyebrow. "You mean for killing your mother? A man has to find a few stepping stones if he wants to be king. It was nothing personal."

"Fuck you."

All hints of a smile were gone from Joshua's face. There was only the steel of his sword glinting in the sun.

Caellach drew his axe. "The little Joshua I remember didn't talk like that, 'specially not to an old friend."

"You killed my her just to further your selfish little ambitions. You thought I wouldn't mind, old friend?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to climb to the top. Mommy happened to make a good ladder, old friend."

Steel flashed in the blazing desert sun. Each strike was parried by the foe, each clang a sharp sound that reverbrated through the fighters' bodies.The sword and axe intertwined, stuck fast as though they were grappling with one another.

"Not bad, Joshua, not bad at all. You're not a brat anymore, that's for sure."

"Shut up," hissed Joshua through gritted teeth. "I'm not here to hear you talk."

As soon as their weapons came free, they clashed again, and again and again. Caellach frowned. There was a time when he could've beat Joshua without breaking a sweat, but it seemed the tables had turned on the mercenary. It didn't help that axes were a heck of a lot slower than swords. If nothing else, Joshua was fast.

Acting quickly, Caellach kicked at Joshua's legs. The swordsman fell, but the axe hit only sand when he rolled away and got on his feet without skipping a beat. Caellach cursed. Joshua saw his chance.

"I win this time."

If he hadn't known any better, Caellach would've thought it was just the breeze, but no, breezes don't impale men. He looked down and saw the hilt of Joshua's sword sticking out of his body like an ominous flag. In spite of himself and the injury, he grinned.

"Right through the left lower torso.. the spot where I struck Mommy."

"The very same."

Caellach knew he would not die quickly from that wound. He bet Joshua knew this as well. Speaking took effort, but he managed.

"Does revenge taste as sweet as they say?"

There was no reply. Joshua left to avert his eyes from the death of a man he once called comrade. Behind him, Caellach knelt to the ground even as he fought against the forces that would have him bow his head to death.

ooooo

It was over.

No one made a sound. Death's requiem was the silence of unmoving lips and cold, still hearts.

It was just him now, just one man in a field littered with corpses the same way the forest ground was littered with dead leaves. In a forest, it was only natural that the leaves fall. On the battlefield, it was only natural that people die.

He hadn't won, but he hadn't lost either. He learned that it couldn't really be called losing if he was still alive.

He walked to a tree and laid his back against it, letting his aching joints rest. Crows circled the sky in lazy drifts. They had it easy, he decided. They didn't have to risk life and limb for a little food. The work was done for them.

He stared out into the field. A crow picked at the flesh of one of the bodies. He recognized him. He had been one of the troop, one of the boys.

Yesterday, they had all been rejoicing around the fire because they found a high-paying job that would've kept them fed for at least two weeks, long enough to find another job before their money ran out.

Well, now everyone was dead. Funny how that happened so quickly.

The crow pecked and scissored away at the flesh with its black beak. It tore off a chunk of flesh and greedily swallowed it as it gulped several times to force the morsel down its throat. Stuipid bird. If it hadn't been so greedy it could've eaten its meal bit by bit instead of cramming it all down its throat. Caellach hoped it choked.

They had all worked hard to put meat on their bones. And for what? Was this all it had amounted to? All their hard work at staying alive and trying to make a decent living, reduced to the contents of a scavenger's stomach?

He stood up from the tree. He didn't know how long he had been holding his axe in his hand, but that didn't matter much. Suddenly, there was loud cawing. The crows flew away from his wild swings. Their squawking filled the air, cawing, cawing, never giving it a rest. He didn't stop swinging his axe until every single corpse was free of crows.

"I hate crows," he muttered.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You know what Caellach's moniker makes me think of? The song, "Eye of the Tiger".

Props to SpeedDemon315 for thinking up the challenge. I never would've thought that Caellach would be so fun to write. The last chapter might take a while because I've got schoolwork. I hope no one minds waiting.

Please review (or not) as you see fit.