He passed through the lush orchard and vineyards he used to play and hide in as a child, whenever Father Paxton would seek to punish him for another act of mischief. Threading through the trees, he used his staff to keep his balance as he navigated through the tall reeds and grass blanketing the river bank. And without a single moment's hesitation, he marched stoically across the shallowest part of the river itself, barely even noticing the icy water flowing underneath his robe and clothing, chilling his body to the bone.
It was only when he had hauled himself onto the opposite side that he stopped, chest heaving to regain his breath, leaning heavily on his staff. He glanced back towards the Abbey, which was now little more than a speck in the distance, and allowed himself to relax and smile proudly.
At last, he was free!
Free from Father Paxton and his web of lies, able to make his own way in the world outside the sheltered life he once led.
But not quick enough to see a man burst from the shadowed reed clusters and pounce, knife drawn and held pointed at his throat.
Marcus was no warrior by any means, but he was strong and quick-thinking when necessary.
He heard a roar of anger, and turned just in time to see a dark shape descend upon him, knocking him to the ground hard. His staff skittered away from his hand on impact, landing several yards away from him. He rolled to one side and scrambled to his feet quickly, his eyes meeting those of his attacker.
Judging by the ragged chestnut-brown tunic and black trousers that had been cut off at the knees, Marcus knew it was a bandit. But what really stood out was the crimson bandana the man wore around his face, covering it completely from just below his eyes to his neck. It was unlike anything the boy had ever seen before, but he hardly had time to admire it.
The bandit had dropped his dagger when he collided with Marcus, and he fumbled to retrieve it. Marcus took the opportunity to snatch up his staff from where it had fallen, and held it ready to meet the next attack. It came as fast and recklessly as the first, with the bandit screaming and roaring as he charged.
This time, Marcus was ready for it.
He sidestepped neatly, dodging the sweeping knife blade as it came down in a vertical slash. The bandit, in his momentum, had no time to stop or change direction. Marcus brought his staff down in a sharp arc, and with an earsplitting crack it connected with the back of the man's head.
He fell into the shallows of the river face first with a splash, and did not rise again.
The boy's heart was pounding like a trip hammer, his hand gripping his bloodied staff with vicelike strength. He saw the floating body of the slain bandit, and his eyes went wide with horror and shock. He fell to his knees heavily, his body quivering as he tried to fight back the revulsion of what he'd just done, but was on his feet once more at the sound of a harsh, mocking voice.
"Well done, boy! A clean kill if there ever was one!" Oh come now, don't look so shocked. He wanted to kill you, and in this world it's kill or be killed!"
It was another bandit, but this one was taller and more muscular than the first. He wore a crimson mask identical to the one Marcus had already seen, covering more than half of his dark-skinned face, and rusty iron shoulder guards that were most likely taken from a fallen Stormwind soldier.
"Oh come now, don't look so shocked. He wanted to kill you, and in this world it's kill or be killed!"
Marcus tensed, ready to fight once more. However, his nerve failed him at the sight of at least a dozen more men creeping forth from the forest's shadow. This armoured bandit was obviously a leader of some sort.
Every man in the group carried a long dagger or sword, several even carrying one of each in each hand. In mere seconds they had Marcus surrounded in a ring of cold steel, leering and snarling nastily at him.
The leader stepped forward, his eyes first resting on the body of the bandit Marcus had slain, then turning to Marcus himself. His lips twisted in a smile of amusement and mock respect. "Not bad for a whelp from Northshire"
His tone was even. Almost friendly, but Marcus did not trust it at all. He stared into the bigger man's eyes, trying with all his might not to show any fear.
The bandit leader smiled again. "What's a young priest like you doing all the way out here, away from your precious Abbey? Surely it's far past your bed time!"
His minions laughed long and loud, as if they had just heard the funniest joke in the world. But Marcus, who until now was nearly frozen stiff with fright, was furious. Back at the Abbey, he often got himself into trouble by attacking fellow apprentices for insulting him in some way. Imposing as the man before him was, this time was no different.
His temper snapped, and he rushed the bandit with his staff raised.
It was a reckless and incredibly foolish move, for his opponent was nearly twice his size and thrice his strength. He caught the staff deftly in one strong hand as Marcus swung it down as hard as he could, tugging hard so that the boy stumbled forward close to him, then lashed out with a fist that may as well have been made of stone.
It caught Marcus with punishing force, sending him sprawling to the earth. He saw stars, and his vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious.
The bandit smirked as he knelt beside him, tapping his dagger blade between his teeth as he shook his head sympathetically.
"There are heroes, and there are fools, boy," he growled. "Heroes have the sense to know better than to cross Deadtooth Jack. Fools don't"
He reached down and grabbed the boy by the collar of the tunic underneath his robe.
"Guess that makes you a fool. So now you'll die like one"
The dagger rose, ready to fall and plunge into Marcus' heart. He could do nothing but close his eyes and wait for the end, his strength failing.
But instead of feeling the cold steel pierce his flesh, he saw his would-be killer turn sharply, heard a scuffle followed by angry shouting and screams of pain, and the unmistakable clash of blades.
Then all went black.
Chapter 6
The midnight bells of Northshire Abbey tolled quietly over the valley, but only one was still awake to hear them.
Father Paxton stood on the southern ramparts, his eyes closed in meditation as the moonlight washed gently over him.
His mind wandered, showing him many things. Events of the past, present, and even some of the future flashed before him. But one vision stood out over all else, one that was more disturbing to the Father than anything else he had ever seen. It came as no surprise, therefore, that as he was roused from his stupor by one of the night watch, he already knew the reason.
The guard came dashing up the stairway to join him on the walltop, and despite the urgency of his voice, the Father remained calm as ever.
"My lord, one of our scouts spotted an apprentice sneaking through the Abbey grounds earlier this evening, and I've just searched the dormitories stone by stone.." The guard's voice trailed off, and he sighed deeply. "It's Marcus Ebonlocke. We tried to follow his trail, but lost it when we reached the Elwynn river. There's no telling where he could be now"
Paxton's eyes closed briefly in silent despair. He always knew it would only be a matter of time before the boy took it upon himself to leave. The way of the priest was never in his blood. But he had been like a son to him, and no vision or act of foresight could help him see what danger his former apprentice could now be in.
The guard spoke up again. "I can organize a search party at first light, when the patrols come in. We can sweep all of Northshire in a matter of…"
Paxton raised his hand to cut the guard off, and shook his head sadly.
"That will not be necessary. All we can do now is pray to the Light that he will be kept safe" He turned to the guard and nodded. "That will be all"
The guard bowed and returned to his post, leaving the Father alone once more. His eyes turned to the horizon again, brimming with soft unshed tears.
"So it is done. The destiny of your son is no longer in my control. For good or ill, his path is his alone to choose now"