A/N: This is a rather long chapter. I apologize in advance.

Chapter 3: Decision

Karel awoke early in the morning. He stepped out into the camp, the sun still hidden behind the mountains to the east. His gaze lingered briefly over his father's tent before he turned and made his way back to the training grounds. It had been a week since his confrontation with his father. His stomach muscles no longer ached from the punch his father had dealt him.

He reached to top of the hill and paused as a breeze ruffled his hair. As he had done so many times before, he strode to his place across from a wooden dummy and drew his sword. He slowly exhaled as he held the sword in front of him. He closed his eyes as he envisioned the strike in its entirety.

His eyes snapped open.

He leapt forward. A moment later he stood behind the wooden doll. As he inspected the doll, he mentally reprimanded himself. Only two of the five strikes had actually connected. There were slight nicks for the remaining three, but had it been a real person, the strikes would not have been fatal. Judging by one of them, it wouldn't have even been serious. He strode back to his starting position, his determination renewed.

He had become so engrossed in his training that he had lost all track of time. When he leapt forward but stopped because the sun blinded him, only then did he realize just how long he had been practicing. He turned his gaze back to the camp and could see the fire pit had been started. He was breathing heavily and despite the cool morning air, his body was slick with sweat.

He took another look at the wooden doll. Three of the five strikes could now be considered acceptable. It was progress but it was still not good enough. All five had to be in place. He would not be satisfied until he had attained that goal.

As he walked back to camp, he could already imagine the smirk on his father's face. After that night, his father would only use Karel's training as proof that his words were indeed true. Despite Karel's protests and complaints, his father would make the point that Karel still remained dedicated to the sword above all else. His father never understood him.

For Karel, his swordsmanship was one thing that was distinctly, inherently his and only his. There was a certain amount of pride he took in the skill he had carefully crafted over the many years of training. There was more to it than that though; it was his one chance to escape from everything. When he trained, there was nothing but he and the sword. There was no blue warrior, no death, and no father. It was a world thrown into perfect night and day, free of all earthly problems.

He passed through the camp unnoticed and slipped into his tent before anyone by chance did see him. He removed his sweaty clothes and splashed his face with water from the basin. He was tired of the burden he felt strapped to his shoulders. When it came down to it, he didn't care about the clan, its laws, or any of the traditions that his father had attempted to ingrain into him. There were two things he cared about: his swordsmanship and Karla. There was many a time where he had fantasized about leaving the clan, running away with the Wo Dao and his sister and exploring the world. Every time though, he was reminded that they were just that, fantasies.

Why hadn't he acted? The thought made him stop as he dried his face. It was a question he didn't have an answer for he realized. It begged the question; just what was holding him back? Was it his father? He instinctively wanted to say no, but he knew that wasn't quite true. Karel had needed his father's instruction and guidance. There was no one else who could give him what he needed. Now though, with Karel's initiation into the secret, did that mean he was freed from that shackle?

Was it his uncle? That one immediately seemed illogical. From his uncle's story last night, if anything, his uncle would be the one to encourage Karel to journey and leave. He slipped on a fresh robe, adjusting his belt before giving his reflection one last look in the basin.

Was it Karla?

He pulled back the tent flap. He cared deeply for Karla. Of the clan members, Karla was the youngest and the only one to be spared the memories of the massacre. He had wanted to protect her from that pain, the pain that seemed to poison this clan like a disease. She was getting older though. It would not be long before she would be of the age for her parents to start finding her a husband. What point was there to him staying now? Was it just sentimentality stopping him from leaving?

He shook his head and dismissed the thoughts. No clear answer was there and he saw no reason to continue banging his head against a post in hopes of uncovering one. He stepped into the camp.

He was surprised to see two of the horses out and being cleaned and saddled. His uncle finished tightening the saddle on one of the horses before giving Karel a cheerful wave.

"Good morning, Karel," greeted his uncle. "Care to give an old man a hand? Lenne here seems to be in a fickle mood today."

"What's the occasion for the trip?" asked Karel as he grabbed the reins from his uncle's hands. The horse tried to pull free but he held fast. "I wasn't aware of any plans to travel."

"The medicine and foods used to help the girls attacked by Iorin has taken a bit more out of our cellars than we expected," explained his uncle as he tightened the saddle. "So, we've got no choice but to go into town and purchase the goods we need."

"If that's the case, why not simply head to Dugral?"

His uncle gave the saddle a tug to make sure it was in place and then gave it a satisfied slap. "Because we don't have enough money. This old timer scrounged through all his savings and it's still not quite enough for what we need." When Karel still looked at him confused, his uncle chuckled. "Do you remember Sassair?" Karel nodded, although his memories were anything but pleasant of the place. "Sassair is one of the few cities in Sacae large enough to host an arena. We're going to wager our gold for a few matches and use the winnings to cover the cost."

"We?" repeated Karel with a raised eyebrow. His uncle held up his arms in surrender.

"Okay, to be fair, it's more you than me." He gave Karel a playful nudge in the side. "Ryland specifically said for you to come with me. He and your brothers are cleaning up some bandits not too far south of here."

"I'm surprised he isn't going is all," said Karel.

His uncle shrugged. "He was surprisingly insistent upon it. Probably just that confident in your abilities." Karel resisted the urge to snort. His uncle put his hand to his chin to stroke his beard. "After last week's incident, I'm sure he wants to stay close just in case. Even with Samal's skills, the girls are still recovering, leaving us a bit shorthanded at the moment."

"Isn't that heartwarming of father," muttered Karel to no one in particular. The horse's tail whipped him in the face, much to his chagrin.

His uncle chuckled. "It seems Lenne doesn't approve of your comment."

Karel fixed a tense gaze upon the horse. "I'd like to think of a time when a horse has approved of me."

Lenne whinnied and his uncle laughed in earnest. He stroked the muzzle, placating the horse almost instantly. Karel could only stare in disbelief. He had no aversion to animals but horses and he just never seemed to get along well at all.

"You need to remember the teachings. The horse is the partner of all Sacaens, the faithful friend given to us by Mother Earth. Treat the horse as you would a family member, not just some beast to ride upon," said his uncle in a soft voice.

Karel sighed. "Maybe if Mother Earth didn't make the things so temperamental I'd get along with them better."

"Perhaps Lenne just doesn't like you," teased his uncle.

Karel looked back at the horse with a deadpan expression. "The feeling's mutual."

His uncle laughed and climbed aboard his horse. Karel let out a sigh and climbed onto Lenne's back. Nothing happened initially. Perhaps the horse really wasn't going to go crazy this time. His uncle took off and Karel gave the horse a gentle kick. Suddenly Lenne burst off in a full speed gallop. Karel nearly fell out of his seat as he desperately held onto the reins. He cursed, prompting what he could only interpret as a snide whinny from Lenne. He let out an exasperated sigh as he sat up right. He knew in that moment that he didn't dislike horses; he hated them.

-x-

As the two guided their horses down the cobbled streets of Sassair, Karel felt surprisingly calm. Sassair was about as contrasting with the Daodin camp as night was with day. Large stone walls encircled the city. Numerous foreigners from all corners of Elibe it seemed were out hawking their wares or exchanging idle conversation on the side of the road. The very air was so unlike the plains; the smell of the grass and wildflowers was replaced by the smell of roasting meats, pipeweed, and smoke.

"You look comfortable, Karel," remarked Raidal as he brought his horse back.

"Do I? I hadn't noticed," replied Karel. "This place seems much more packed compared to my last visit."

His uncle nodded. "It depends on the time of year. Around this time, the Ilian winters are particularly harsh and mercenary jobs can be difficult to find. It's not uncommon to see a number of pegasus knights or other mercenaries come to Sacae to wait out the winter."

"And here I always thought Dugral was relatively large." Karel's eyes went back and forth. There were many taverns and inns along the roads, some big enough to hold two of the Prancing Deer.

"Dugral is more of an outpost than an actual city," explained his uncle. "This old timer would debate whether you could even call it a town."

Karel nodded. "So where is this arena and what exactly is it?"

His uncle pointed directly ahead of them. The building was huge, standing in stark contrast to the taverns and inns surrounding it. The wood frames seemed weak, feeble even compared to the thick and sturdy stone pillars that supported the mighty building. It towered over the other buildings, only serving to make it stand out more.

"Look familiar?" asked his uncle knowingly.

Karel shrugged. "Just a little."

His last time here had been four years ago, around when he had just turned eleven. His father had taken him alone. At the time, he had still been young and naïve enough to think that his father was just doting upon his youngest son. How wrong he had been. He barely even remembered much of Sassair with how quickly he had been rushed though the streets and into the arena. He hadn't even understood what was going on until a man placed an iron sword in his hands and wished him luck, saying he'd need it if he didn't want to get eaten alive. And then the gates opened to let in the lion.

Karel's hand absentmindedly went to his left forearm, where he still had the claw marks from that encounter. Shaking the memories from his head, he followed his uncle as the two left the horses in a nearby stable. As the two got closer to the arena, the building proved to be even larger than Karel had first thought it to be. The roar of the cheers was almost deafening and they weren't even at the front gate yet. Karel suddenly felt someone bump into his shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" barked the man. He had a muscular build and a number of scars along his body. From the smell, the man hadn't bathed in quite a few days.

Karel regarded the man for a moment before getting back up adjusting his robe. The man sauntered off with his friends, a smirk on his face.

"You all right there, mate?" came a new voice. Karel turned to see a young man dressed in a long green tunic atop a chestnut horse. A headband held back his gray-green hair from clouding his eyes.

"Fine," replied Karel curtly.

The man grinned. "Glad to hear it. Don't be too bitter at those guys. There's a lot of 'em around here and the sooner you learn to roll with it, the better. From the looks of things, I'd wager they just had a pretty nice victory at the arena and don't care for those who get in the way of their festivities."

"I'll keep the advice in mind-"

"Ko," filled in the youth. "Are you off to participate in a challenge?"

Karel saw no reason to beat around the bush. "Yes."

"Good luck to you then. I'll be rooting for you. If you come out of it in good shape, I'll buy you a drink later," said Ko as he offered his hand. "What's your name?"

Karel gripped the hand firmly. "The name's Karel."

Ko gave them a quick wave before he and his horse disappeared into the crowd of people along the streets.

"That boy was a nomad," mused his uncle. "Been a while since I've seen one this far east in Sacae."

"Something wrong, uncle?"

His uncle shook his head. "No, just some old man's ramblings. Let's get you registered so we can be on our way."

The registrar was a large, bald man with arms thick as logs. As soon as Karel stepped up to the counter, the man eyed him up and let out a snort. "Who's competing, the scrawny one or the old codger?"

"I am," asserted Karel.

"All right. How much are you planning to wager?"

Raidal stepped up to the table. "We have a total of seven hundred gold, so perhaps about three hundred fifty to start off?"

"Do I look like a charity, old man? No one in their right mind would take a wager that low."

"We wager all seven hundred," said Karel calmly. His uncle nearly dropped the bag while the man behind the counter laughed.

"I like this kid! Seeing as he's the competitor, I think I'm inclined to take him up on his offer," said the registrar. "Seven hundred gold it is. Your match will be the next one after this fight. Do your best not to die out there."

Karel set the money on the counter and walked off to the entrance. He felt his uncle give a sharp tug on his sleeve. "What was that all about?"

"Wagering all the money at once?" replied Karel calmly.

"Yes, that!"

Karel shrugged. "If we're here to earn money, I'd rather do it as quickly as possible than draw out the whole affair. Besides, the man wasn't going to take your proposed wager either."

His uncle shook his head. "You don't understand. A higher wager means tougher opponents."

Karel looked his uncle in the eye. "Do you think I'm going to lose?"

"Look Karel, you're good, but overconfidence in the arena will cost you more than the gold."

"And our work as mercenaries thus far has been any different?" countered Karel. "Please. Most of these men are cubs in a lion's den. Unless they've actually fought a lion and survived, I doubt there's much to fear."

Karel turned and strode into the entrance, leaving a frustrated uncle to mull over his nephew's words.

-x-

"Where have you been Ko?" asked a young woman in her late teens. Ko gave her a sheepish smile before taking a seat next to her. Down below, the fight in the arena continued. A sword-wielding mercenary dodged to the side of an armored knight but just couldn't seem to crack the tough opponent's iron defense.

"Oh, just taking care of some business around town. Had to find a stables that wasn't filled to leave Mara," explained Ko. "Has he fought yet?"

"Not yet. He's bound to be in one of the upcoming matches. Drake is watching the entryway just in case." Ko chuckled, confusing the woman. "What's so amusing?"

"You need to lighten up, Farah," remarked Ko. "The boss isn't here after all. We'll catch him, don't you worry."

Farah frowned and shook her head. "It's that lax attitude of yours that is precisely why I worry."

The crowd erupted in cheers as the fight came to a close. The knight went in for a lunge only for the mercenary to dodge to the side. The lance planted itself in the wall, giving the mercenary the opening he needed to finish his foe. The mercenary left as the crowd chanted for the next match to begin. The gates opened to allow the next two contestants onto the field. Farah leaned forward in her seat.

"It's him. Tell Drake that we've found our mark," ordered Farah.

Ko nodded and was about to leave when he saw who the challenger was. "Damn, really? That's just a case of bad luck now."

"What do you mean?"

"His challenger is a Sacaen I bumped into on my way here. His name's Karel if I remember right. But he has no idea who he is going up against. Talk about bad luck," bemoaned Ko.

"Then tell him to forfeit," stated Farah bluntly.

"I don't think it's going to be that simple," admitted Ko. "Sacaens don't exactly run from fights."

"Then I'll make sure to say a prayer to St. Elimine for him," said Farah. Ko sighed and turned his attention back to the match that was about to start. This wasn't going to last long; that much was for certain.

-x-

Karel stood across from his opponent, his fingers feeling the grip of the iron sword he had been handed prior to the match. Judging from the crowd's cheers as his opponent entered the stage, his opponent had already made something of an entrance earlier. He was almost nonchalant in the way he waved to crowd. The amateur swordsman would probably try to attack right away, but Karel could see that his nonchalance was a ruse. His right hand never strayed far from his sword.

Tougher opponents, eh? I haven't had a challenge in a while. This might be fun, thought Karel with a bit of a smirk.

"Hey kid," spoke the challenger. "Do you know who I am?"

Karel's grip on the sword tightened ever so slightly. "No. Should I care?"

The challenger laughed as he flicked some of his blue hair out of his face. "You're a riot, kid. The name's Jagger. Now listen up 'cause I'm going to make you an offer here. I'm not exactly in to killing shrimps like yourself so I'll give you one chance to throw the match and walk out of here with your life guaranteed in one piece."

Karel smirked and drew his blade. "I'll pass."

"Tch, don't say I didn't warn you," said Jagger. Suddenly Jagger leapt into the air and drew his sword before coming down upon Karel. He sidestepped the attack before deflecting the next strike with his blade. Jagger clearly hadn't expected Karel to be quite so nimble and redoubled his offensive efforts, trying to beat Karel down with a flurry of strikes.

Karel calmly deflected each strike as it came. Jagger thrust his sword before sliding into a slash to catch Karel. Karel blocked the strike with his sword, locking the two. It was clear that Jagger wasn't just full of hot air; he was quite good. Still, Karel was better.

Karel continued to deflect the strikes until finally Jagger attempted another thrust. Karel countered with his own sword in a flash, stopping the strike and causing Jagger to stagger. Karel closed in and slammed the hilt of his sword into Jagger's gut before finishing with a sharp uppercut to the chin. Jagger went flying a good few feet back before managing to pick himself up again.

From his expression, Karel could only surmise Jagger hadn't been expecting an opponent like him. The crowd all around had gone silent at the sudden and surprising turn of events. The momentum of the fight had shifted in a heartbeat and Karel intended to put an end to now.

He held his sword to the side, and steadied his breath. Jagger took a defensive stance, now much more wary of Karel and his abilities. Neither moved for a moment, until Jagger raised his sword above his head and charged. Karel moved in a flash. One moment he was in front of Jagger, the next he was behind him. Jagger stopped, his sword still overhead before a large slash ripped through his chest, causing him to collapse in an ever-growing pool of his blood.

Karel flicked the blood from his blade before starting for the gate. The crowd burst into applause as he disappeared back into the darkness.

-x-

Farah and Ko both sat there with looks of complete shock upon their faces. Farah couldn't believe what she had just seen. This boy from the plains had just shown up out of nowhere and not only did he defeat Jagger, a high priority target, but defeated him without sustaining any injury himself.

"Just who is that kid?" she wondered aloud.

"What I'm more concerned about is what do we do now? We can't exactly bring in a corpse for this job," said Ko with a sigh. He let out a low whistle. "Man though, where did that guy learn to fight like that?"

Farah stood up and brushed the dust off of her pants. "There's not much we can do about it at this point. Let's get Drake and regroup at the tavern. We'll figure out what to do from there."

Ko nodded. Standing with his back against a pillar near the entrance was a hulking bear of a man. His body rippled with muscles, particularly evident by his lack of body armor beyond the pauldrons adorning his shoulders and the greaves he wore on his shins. His body was covered in scars from head to toe, cutting a rather intimidating figure as a consequence.

"What 'appened? We lose our man?" he asked gruffly as he scratched his gray-white stubble.

"Well, things didn't exactly go as we had hoped they would," Ko replied with a shrug. "Sorry to make you wait, Drake."

"Jagger is dead," Farah stated.

"And here I thought we weren't goin' ta have ta worry about that." Drake shook his head. "Who offed the bloke?"

"A young Sacaen. He looked like he couldn't be older than fifteen or sixteen," explained Farah.

"Kid could fight better than a lot of grown men I've seen," added Ko.

Drake grinned. "I know that look. What's got inta yer head boy?"

Ko returned the gesture. "I'm not saying anything, just making a comment."

Farah brought her hand to her chin in thought. "We still have a few days until we need to return to Bulgar. I'll see if I can find any offerings so that we at least don't leave here empty-handed."

"What should we do in the meantime?" asked Ko.

"You have the evening free. Just don't get into too much trouble."

"Heh, might as well see what the cards are offerin' tonight if that's the case," remarked Drake.

"And I've got a date to keep," added Ko.

"Chasin' after another woman?" asked Drake with a grin.

Ko chuckled. "Far from it actually. I promised to buy a drink for that guy who took out Jagger. Figure might as well see what his story is while we're here."

"You just want to see if you should bet on him for future matches," said Farah bluntly.

Ko looked offended. "I can't believe you would even insist upon such a thing, but you do make a good point deputy commander."

Farah shook her head. "We'll meet up later tonight to go over the plans. See you then."

-x-

Raidal sat at the table, a broad smile on his face as he jingled the pouch back and forth. Karel sipped on the ale, trying to adjust to the taste but failing miserably. He couldn't understand how men could down pints of this stuff when it tasted so bitter. Finally he set the mug down and pushed it aside.

"Giving up?"

"It's not worth wasting time on something that tastes like that," replied Karel. "You seem to be in much better spirits than earlier. Were you that worried I'd lose out there?"

"Hardly. I had complete faith in you," replied his uncle with a toothy smile. "Although I will admit, I was a bit worried when I saw the bets were five to one against you. I suppose that made the victory all the sweeter though!"

Karel couldn't hold back a half-smile of his own. With the wagers so against him, Karel didn't even need to fight another round after defeating Jagger. They had already purchased the needed supplies and they still had plenty of gold leftover. His uncle had insisted that while they were here, they might as well enjoy the benefits only a city could offer.

"Here I was expecting you to be soaking up your victory in one of the big bars," came a familiar voice. Ko gave Karel a friendly pat on the shoulder before taking a seat at their table. "Certainly didn't expect you to pick a small time place like this."

"I didn't pick it," replied Karel as his eyes shifted in his uncle's direction. Ko laughed before he snapped his fingers.

"Barkeep, a round of drinks for the table on me!"

"That really isn't necessary," said Karel.

"Nonsense! I promised I'd buy you a drink if you won and I am a man of my word," replied Ko enthusiastically.

Raidal finished his third pint of ale and clearly was starting to feel the effects as he swayed back and forth in his chair. His gaze went over to a group of Ilian pegasus knights and a grin came over his face. "You two enjoy your drinks. I'm going to go and see what those ladies are up to."

Karel looked over at the girls and back to his uncle. "Do what you will, but I'm not cleaning up your mess."

His uncle let out a loud laugh. "If you're that concerned, you could always lend me a hand. I could use a backup just in case things go south."

Karel glanced over at the table. One of the Ilian's noticed him and gave him a charming smile, even motioning for him to join her. He turned away, fixating his gaze upon the filled mug before him. His reaction prompted a laugh from their direction. "I'll…pass."

"Haha, it seems someone is a little shy around the ladies!" teased Ko as he lightly elbowed Karel. "A shame too, cause they seem to be interested in you."

"You wouldn't believe how much of an issue it's been for his father to try and get someone who will agree to marry him," said Raidal to Ko. "The lad can wield a sword better than people twice his age yet he can't even talk to a woman properly. The girls think he's strange or scary even, and then the clan leaders flat out refuse the deal. Then again, my brother doesn't exactly have the best people skills when it comes to these matters."

Ko laughed along with his uncle, causing Karel's eyebrow to twitch in irritation. "Maybe you should take your uncle up on the offer, Karel. It might be a good chance for some life experience."

"I'm fine," said Karel flatly and deliberately. "Do what you will, uncle."

His uncle gave Karel a shrug before he left the table, nearly stumbling on his way over to the girls' table.

Ko was grinning ear to ear. "He's certainly an energetic one, isn't he?"

"It's the first time I've seen him like this. Now I'm beginning to understand why we keep alcohol away from the clan," remarked Karel, earning a laugh from Ko.

"So what exactly brings you out to Sassair? Is this your first time to the city?"

Karel leaned back in his chair. "Second time actually. Our clan is short supplies and we needed to make some purchases. We were also a bit short on funds and this was the only place close enough for us to make the money."

"And earn it you did. I saw your match and I was pretty impressed. Not too many people your age I've seen that can fight like that."

"I wouldn't know," said Karel dismissively.

"Oh?"

"Living in a clan like mine tends to isolate oneself from the rest of the world," stated Karel. "My experience has only been against men older than myself."

"You're from a clan? Whereabouts exactly?"

"To the east."

Ko balked. "Out in the boo-, I mean all the way out there?" He cleared his throat. "Sorry. Surprised me. You just seem right at home here so it didn't even occur to me that you hailed from that area."

"That so? I won't deny that I could get used to this kind of place," remarked Karel.

Ko smiled. "I see. The small life not treating you well?"

Karel snorted. "It can be a little…constraining at times." He ran his finger along the rim of his mug. "What about yourself? You've hardly said a word about why you're here."

"Fair enough. I'm out here with some of my fellow mercenaries to take care of some work."

"You're a mercenary as well?"

Ko downed the rest of his ale in one gulp. "Yep. Proud member of Morgan's Mercenaries. We're a small group based in Bulgar. Pay is good though and we're pretty highly respected for the work we do."

"I see."

"You know, after your display today, what would you say to joining us?"

Karel's finger stopped as he looked over at Ko. The young man's smile was gone, replaced by a serious and earnest expression. Karel gave him a half-smile. "I don't know if your boss would take to a sudden hire like me."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. If there's one thing I know about the boss, it's that he knows quality when he sees it and I'd say you've got it to burn. Besides, we've been looking for a new recruit of late and I'd say you fit the bill. What do you say? You can come live a life of adventure, be the master of your own destiny. Or you can continue to live the same mundane life you've been living in your little clan. The choice is yours."

Karel eyes Ko before breaking away. "I'll need some time to think."

"Suit yourself. We'll be in town for the next three days but after that we'll be heading out. If you do decide, we'll be waiting for you at the Lionheart."

Ko left his gold on the table and left without saying another word, leaving Karel to stew over the offer. He glanced over and saw much to his surprise that his uncle hadn't been rejected by the Illians and was actually sitting at their table. He shook his head and leaned back in the chair. Ko's offer dangled in front of him like a big juicy carrot, begging to be grabbed. He almost said yes then and there but held himself back. With a sigh, he left the coins behind and headed up to his room and promptly threw himself on the bed.

-x-

The entire trip back had been silent, owing mostly due to his uncle's bad headache from the previous night. Karel had not been in a very talkative mood either, his thoughts still dwelling on his conversation with Ko from the other day. As they neared the camp, he caught sight of Karla and Samal playing a game of sorts. He smiled when he saw Karla wave in his direction.

Karla, Samal, and for all his antics, his Uncle Raidal had given him some of his best memories during his time at the camp. When he was around them, he felt at ease, comfortable and like he truly was home. But was he simply staying for them? Karla was growing up quickly; he couldn't play the role of the elder brother forever and it seemed that chapter was drawing closer to an end every day. Samal was friendly and pleasant, but the two had never truly established any sort of bond. Samal was merely his cousin, the son of his crazy uncle. Raidal looked out for Karel since he was a boy, but Karel was no longer a youth who needed his uncle's support.

There was something in the camp that always bothered Karel. It wasn't like a person or an object; it was more of a sensation, something that permeated the very atmosphere of the place. For the longest time he had been uncertain what it was, but after last week, he was certain he knew now.

It was fear.

The fear of death, of weakness, of fragility. No doubt it was part of the reason his father remained so close. The memories of that night hung over the camp and everyone's memories like a black fog that no wind could dispel. The incident last week seemed to reawaken those memories. The looks in his family's eyes were no different than the looks they had after the massacre.

He was so damn tired of it all.

He dismounted and helped his uncle do the same before Reyn led the horses back to their pen. Karel helped to hold up his uncle as he blinked his eyes.

"Father Sky that journey went quickly," said his uncle groggily.

"That's what happens when you sleep through most of it," grunted Karel.

"Welcome back, brother!" greeted Karla enthusiastically as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "How was the trip?"

Karel gave her a gentle smile as he ruffled her hair. "It was insightful in more ways that I had expected."

"Insightful?" repeated Karla in a confused voice. "I thought you had just gone to fight at the arena."

"There's a lot to be learned sometimes in just the journey itself," said Karel.

"Since when did you become the clan philosopher?" came Peta's teasing voice. Chayton stood behind him, his arms crossed in front of him.

"I presume the trip was successful?" asked Chayton coolly.

"Completely," Karel replied curtly. "All the materials needed are in the packs, as well as the left over gold."

"Amazing! You must have really cleaned up in the arena," remarked Peta with a laugh.

"He only fought one match," interjected his uncle. "But the odds were so stacked against him, that the bet paid off five to one."

"Was he a tough opponent?" asked Karla.

"He had skill, but he wasn't able to touch me," said Karel.

"Samal, how are the girls doing?" asked his uncle.

"Their condition has improved greatly. With this medicine, they should be back to normal in a few days. I can't vouch for the psychological damage they've endured though," said Samal as he let out a sigh.

"Psychological damage? What do you mean?" growled Peta.

Samal held up his hands urging Peta to calm down. "Relax, Peta. Some of them are still traumatized by the incident. One of them won't even let me near her she's so terrified. I have to ask Alli to administer her treatment because of it."

Peta's eyes narrowed and he spat at the ground. "This is humiliating. For our clan to be reduced to a bunch of dogs licking their wounds just because we let out guard down for a moment is embarrassing beyond words. Why father hasn't done anything yet is beyond me."

"Agreed," chimed in Chayton. "The Daodin clan has long been the strongest clan in this region. Our failure to act will only give the enemy clans the impression that we are weak."

"And so what would you propose?" asked Karel, his eyes narrowed. "Would you do unto the Iorin the same they did unto us?"

Chayton chuckled. "Don't be naïve, little brother. We would not do the same unto them. We would utterly destroy them. We would make an example out of the Iorin for their insolence."

"You talk like we are their kings. We are not, Chayton," stated Karel. "Would you make enemies of all the clans just for the sake of your pride?"

"What is left of our clan at this point but our pride and the Wo Dao?" replied Chayton. "What is there for any of the clans that live in this place? We barely can grow any crops and livestock is hard to come by. We live day to day to survive. In this land, only the strong survive. Weakness of any kind is intolerable."

Karel couldn't hold back his chuckle as it morphed into a full laugh. After a moment, his mirth died down. "You really are the one to inherit the clan, Chayton. I can't think of anyone more fitting to take father's place than you."

Chayton's steely cold gaze locked with Karel's smug one for a moment. "And I can't think of anyone more undeserving of father's attention than you." Karel's smirk was rapidly replaced by a stoic expression. "You, of all of us, are the only one to earn father's attention, yet you toss it aside as though it were a worthless bauble. He has given more to you than either Peta or myself, yet you shun his gifts. You mock him! You act so high and mighty, as though you own the camp, yet you don't give a damn about any of it."

Karel could feel his anger boiling beneath his skin. "If you want his attention so much, it's all yours. It's not like I'm getting in your way," he said through grit teeth.

"Oi, guys, maybe we should take a step back," said Samal as he tried to calm the situation down.

"Then again, you'd actually have to be worth something in his eyes first," said Karel icily.

"You don't deserve to be talking about worth. You've had it, but you've squandered it," replied Chayton just as coldly. "I'm sick to death of your arrogant attitude. If you think you are so much better than this clan, then get out."

Karel's eyes narrowed to the point where the two were glaring daggers at each other. Both had their hands on their swords, ready to draw should the other act first.

"That is enough!" Both looked over to see Ryland observing them. Karel could feel his icy gaze meet his for a moment before turning it back to Chayton. "Peta, Chayton, help Samal tend to the girls. Karel, return to your tent. Raidal, come with me."

Karel gave Chayton one last glare. "Maybe one day you'll get your wish."

While he was not one to follow his father's orders, this time Karel had no qualms following it to the last letter. He stormed off to his tent and threw himself upon the mat. As he looked at the ceiling of the tent, he knew; he had his answer.

-x-

Ryland set the Wo Dao upon the mantle with reverence before sitting down.

"Shall I prepare some tea?" asked Raidal. "It has been a long time since the two of us talked and I would rather we savor the opportunity."

"Enough," dismissed Ryland. "I do not have time for any drinks or any of your sentimentalities."

"I see. What do you need to speak with me about then?" asked Raidal.

"How did Karel do in the arena?" asked Ryland, his voice much more relaxed, almost casual even.

Raidal blinked but cleared his throat. "He performed admirably. He is certainly not short on confidence in his skills, considering he bet all of our money on his very first match. He certainly has his impetuous moments, but he handled himself just fine. Although…"

"Although?"

Raidal crossed his arms. "There's something different about him of late. He's been more distant of late, making it hard to read him at times."

Ryland nodded, and closed his eyes in thought. "Thank you. That tells me all I needed to know."

"Regarding what?"

Ryland stood up and placed his hand upon the Wo Dao. "My successor."

"You mean you've come to make a decision?" asked Raidal, rather surprised by the announcement.

"It is time. With Karel finally of age, I am obligated by our traditions to name an heir," explained Ryland. "And I have made my decision. Chayton will inherit the clan after me."

Raidal blinked once. Then he blinked again. "I'm not sure I heard you right. This old man's hearing isn't what it used to be."

"Don't play dumb, brother. I am making Chayton the next heir to the Daodin Clan. This decision is final."

"Are you sure you are not being hasty in your decision?" asked Raidal. "Why Chayton? Why now?"

"I had originally planned to announce Karel as my heir last week, but things…changed," said Ryland. "With the arena, I figured it would give me one last attempt to test Karel's heart. You have told me all I need to know."

"Karel is the rightful heir of this clan," insisted Raidal. "You and I both know that he is unquestionably the most skilled swordsman, certainly worth to one day wield the Wo Dao."

"His skill is unparalleled," admitted Ryland. "I've never seen someone with talent like his. I would not be surprised if one day his skills matched the original founder of our clan. However, he is not fit to lead the clan."

"How?"

"His heart is not with us," said Ryland. "He does not view himself as a member of this clan, not anymore."

"And just how are you so sure of this?"

Ryland chuckled. "There are some things a father knows. The rest I have felt in his blade. Regardless of what any of us say or do, he will leave this clan one day. It might even be sooner than you think."

"And you are content to just let him go?" asked Raidal. "Or is this your way of paying him back for last week?"

Ryland fixed his raptor gaze upon Raidal. "I do not have time to waste upon a petulant son. I am the leader of the Daodin clan first and a father second. My feelings have nothing to do with the matter," replied Ryland.

"I…see."

Ryland placed a hand upon his brother's shoulder. "Keep an eye on him." His voice was much softer than Raidal had heard in a long time.

Raidal nodded. "As you wish, brother."

-x-

It was late at night. Karel peered out from behind the tent flap and safely assumed that everyone was asleep. He slung the pack over his shoulder and silently made his way towards the perimeter of the camp. He had contemplated stopping by the pen to grab a horse but immediately rejected the idea. Even if he managed to get atop one, it would likely cause such a ruckus that the entire camp would wake. It would take much longer on foot, but this was the best option available to him.

He stopped in front of Karla's tent and gently pulled the flap back. She was asleep, a soft smile on her face. He sat down and pulled the blanket tighter around her and gave her a gentle pat upon the head.

"Brother?" she whispered in a sleepy voice. Her eyes fluttered open and met his right away. She could tell something was off right away. "Are you okay?"

Karel nodded, reassuring her with a smile. "I'm fine. Karla, I'm going away for a while."

"Going away?"

"Yeah. I don't know if I'll ever be back or not, but this is something I have to do. I can't stay here any longer." He could see a tear roll down her cheek. He cupped her face with his hand and wiped it away with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I know this all sudden."

"Do you have to go?" she asked softly. "I don't want you to."

Karel sighed and steeled his resolve. "Yes. I have to go. I promise this won't be goodbye forever though. We'll see each other again. I promise you." She nodded as the tears began to flow in earnest. "Have I ever broken a promise to you?"

"N-no."

"Then this time will be no different," assured Karel. His sister threw herself into his chest, wrapping her thin arms around his waist. He pulled her close, feeling her tears stain his robe. After a few minutes, she pulled away. Karel wiped away the few remaining tears and gave her one last smile.

"You better keep your promise, brother," whispered Karla.

"I will. Until we meet again, sister." Karel left as silently as he had entered and quickened his pace as he reached the perimeter of the camp. As he passed the last tent, he heard a voice call out to him.

"Leaving already?"

Karel froze in his tracks. He turned around and saw his uncle standing in front of his tent, a somber expression on his face. He was still in his nightclothes.

Karel didn't try to defend himself and just nodded. "Yes. I'm leaving for Sassair where I'm going to join Ko's mercenary company."

"I was wondering what you two were talking about," muttered his uncle.

Neither said anything for a minute. "Are you going to try and stop me?" asked Karel softly.

His uncle shook his head. "Wouldn't make a bit of difference if an old guy like me tried anyway. I'm just making sure I keep my promise." Karel was about to ask what he meant when his uncle held out a long cloth covered pouch for him. "Take it."

Karel could feel something hard and solid under the cloth. Pulling it away, he was surprised to see a curved sword with an ornate red leather handle. He pulled the sword and was amazed at how easily the weapon slid from its sheath.

"That Killing Edge used to be mine in my younger days. The metal sheath and blade were a gift from an old friend of mine I met on my travels. It got me through many a troubled time and I'm hoping that it does the same for you," said his uncle.

Karel returned the sword to its sheath, trading his old sword for the new one. He held out his iron sword to his uncle, but didn't immediately release his grip on the weapon when his uncle took it.

"I know this is selfish coming from me, but I have a favor to ask of you uncle," said Karel. His grip on the iron sword relaxed. "Please look after Karla for me. I can only imagine how depressed she'll be tomorrow."

Raidal nodded. "You needn't worry. You aren't the only one who cares about her future."

Karel smiled. "Thank you."

"Karel," said his uncle. "A word of advice to you. The land of Sacae is much bigger and much more different than what this little clan has shown you. Should you ever meet any of the three tribes, the Djute, Kutolah, or Lorca, make sure you take care. They are quite different from the lives we of the east lead."

"I'll keep it in mind." Karel turned around and looked up at the night sky. The full moon rested high above him upon a blanket of stars. He gave one last look over his shoulder to his uncle. "Farewell, uncle."

"May Father Sky and Mother Earth watch over you in your journey."

Without another word he took off into the night. As he disappeared into the sea of grass, he glanced back and could no longer see the camp. He allowed himself a small smile. With each step forward, he moved one step further away from his old life and closer to something even greater.

A/N: And thus Karel's journey begins in earnest. I hope this chapter didn't end up being too long. If it was, let me know and I'll see about trimming down the size in the future. Regarding Raidal's comment about the clans at the end, I'd like to add one thing. I am considering the Lorca to be one of the three main tribes in Sacae. It's a point of debate, but for this story I will take it as fact. I don't have much more to add, but will likely have more to say as we get further along into the story. If you have any comments, critique, or whatnot, feel free to share it.