Happy New Year! January is the Monday of the year, but it has not been that bad for me so far. Pardon the extended lack of an update. Now that things are settling into a pedestrian pace, I will attempt to update more frequently.
Just to answer a question: Yes, Hugo is a bit taller than Chris in my story, perhaps a few inches. He is in his growth spurt, now… : ) As I said earlier, I have altered the timeline a bit so that Hugo is 17 and Chris is 23.
I might also make mention of the fact that according to canon, Louis is Hugo's age. However, I am docking his age increase and leaving him at 14. In this universe, an unfortunate anniversary-related accident prevented Mr. Keeferson from marrying Mrs. Keeferson for three years. They're fine now, but don't mention chocolate around them.
-Hugo-
The passage through the gates of Vinay had filled Hugo with exultation, and each step further from the city built upon the growing sensation of freedom. The ironheads' capital and its tall stone walls had imposed a feeling of oppression that he had been unable to fully measure while it bore down on him. Now that the weight had been lifted from his chest, its absence seemed all the more apparent. The pale azure of the sky, the ripple of tall grasses, and the swaying branches of trees all drew his attention as they walked, as though these things had been forbidden him for a longer time.
With the return of Fubar, Hugo's heart was at peace. The clever griffin had kept its distance as they begun to make the trek through the Zexen Forest, swooping down to reveal itself only when the group had put enough space between themselves and the city. Although the others had been surprised to see the griffin, Hugo had anticipated its arrival. As cautious as it had been, it had willingly left telltale signs for Hugo to interpret, and since shortly before they entered the forest, he had known that the creature was not far. As a show of fondness, Hugo sat grudgingly astride the griffin's powerful back as it walked through the woods. He would have preferred to walk, but as always, it was difficult to keep a straight path when Fubar insisted on nudging him affectionately and constantly.
The sudden craning of Fubar's neck alerted Hugo, but their pursuers made little attempt to hide their presence. Before long, a shouting voice was within earshot, heralding the sounds of several horses galloping towards them from behind.
"Halt! I command you!" a familiar voice called out as the horses came into view.
Hugo sighed and slumped against Fubar's neck with his arms piled on its sturdy head as he watched Lilly rein up her horse before him. Her henchmen followed, seemingly as worn as their horses after the furious chase. They cast glances at each other and watched the other party nervously as they edged their horses closer to Lilly's flanks.
"No, you don't," Hugo said lazily, hiding his irritation. "If you think I'm going to keep—"
"Why did you not tell me you were someone important!" Lilly cut in. The indignant expression on her face suggested that this had been a significant transgression on his part.
Hugo glared at her. "Broken rune," he cursed, "what's that supposed to mean?"
Lilly seemed frustrated. "Why, being the son of a chieftain, you are important. It is common courtesy to mention such a thing," she explained slowly, as though instructing him with great patience.
"What in the spirits' name does it matter?" Hugo spat. "We barbarians treat each other like friends, and it doesn't matter if you're important or not. Are you saying you wouldn't have treated me like dirt if you'd known that—"
"Dirt!" Lilly shouted. "How dare you! I'll have you know, I treated you in the manner a commoner should expect to—"
"Stop interrupting me," Hugo said with a sneer. "Commoner? Keep up your common courtesy long enough around here and you'll get a spear through your stomach soon enough."
"Is that a threat! How dare you!"
"Miss Lilly!" her henchmen called out in unison, restraining the young woman in her seat.
"Hugo," Sergeant Joe said, eyeing the others nervously, "Don't drag this out. We don't want to get into trouble on the way home."
With a nod, Hugo bit his tongue. A particularly unladylike curse from Lilly sparked Lulu's ire, however.
"Shut up!" the younger man said, taking a step towards Lilly with a hand on his sheathed knife. "If you keep insulting my friend, I'll make you sorry!"
"I don't recall speaking to you!" Lilly said, following the words with an indignant snort.
"Doesn't matter," Lulu shouted. "Hugo's a lot more important than you are, and you've been acting like a dog that doesn't know its place, barking and—"
"What!" Lilly exclaimed. Her face turned crimson as her fury manifested.
"Forget it, Lulu," Hugo said, "She doesn't get it. Let's just leave."
Sergeant Joe nodded with a sigh of relief as Lulu turned to walk away, shrugging. Hugo could tell that his friend was as furious as Lilly, but he hid it better.
"You will not turn your back on me! Do you hear me!" Lilly shouted, but her henchmen did their best to allow Hugo and his friends to leave without further words.
They had gotten about twenty yards when the tone of Lilly's voice changed, and she said something that surprised Hugo.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry!"
Hugo's eyebrows raised on their own as he turned his head. "What's that?"
Lilly fumed. "Don't make me repeat myself. You heard me; I said it loud enough."
Smirking, Hugo shrugged his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. "What is it you want, anyway?"
Lilly was silent for a few seconds before she spoke. "I want to speak with Chief Lucia."
"Why?" Hugo demanded.
Lilly's lips tightened, and she visibly struggled to remain calm as she tried to ignore the question. Eventually, the questioning look in Hugo's eyes forced her to reply. "It's really none of your business, but I want to speak with her about the recent raids on Tinto caravans."
"Why'd you go to Zexen instead of coming to talk to us, then?" Hugo wondered.
"I thought they might help set up a meeting. Truthfully, I didn't think the barb—… the uh, the clans, would be amenable to discussion with outsiders."
Hugo could not help but laugh, and Lulu did the same, even as Sergeant Joe gave them admonishing looks. "You though we'd be more likely to speak with you if the ironheads set it up?" Hugo asked. "You really don't know much about the Grasslands, do you?"
"I know enough," she snapped. "I know it's an area of roughly two and a half thousand square miles. I know that it has a decentralized population, with a mere single city of medium proportions. I know it's—"
"So? Sounds like you know a lot of useless things," Hugo said, hiding a smile. ((Riling her is child's play,)) he thought as he saw her mouth twitch.
"How d—"
"Miss Lilly! Please!" her fair-skinned aide exclaimed.
"Whatever. We can't control the spirits, and I can't decide who my mother talks to. If you want to see her, you're free to follow us. Just mind your manners; she doesn't have my patience," Hugo said with a shrug.
Lulu burst into laughter, and Hugo shot him a glance of confusion mixed with irritation.
Lilly strutted in her saddle, digging her fists into her hips. "It is agreed, then. You will serve as my guide until such time as we reach Karaya. You will receive payment upon fulfillment of the contract. Which reminds me…" she said, reaching down towards the saddle bags to dig into the pockets, "Despite your crude manners, I still owe you your just payment for your guidance in the fair city. Let me just…"
Hugo glared at her. ((She only hears what she wants to hear!)) he decided. "There's no agreement. I didn't say anything about—"
The approaching sound of hoof beats upon dry dirt reached Hugo's ears, and he reacted instinctively as Fubar shrieked "KWEEEE!" Suddenly, the forest was alive with the murmur of cracking branches and swaying leaves around them, and Hugo had just enough time to keep Fubar from bolting into the air and leaving the others behind before armored soldiers stepped out of the underbrush and onto the trail.
"What's this!" he demanded, pulling his knife from its sheath in concert with Lulu.
"I shall tell you what this is," a man's stern voice called out. The approaching horses came into view, with the man who had spoken astride a black gelding flanked by four additional horsemen. All five wore the ceremonious armor of the Zexen Knights.
"Hugo of the Karaya Clan," the man announced, "You are hereby placed under arrest, for the crime of conspiracy to commit murder in the nation of Zexen."
"What!" Hugo managed. He struggled to keep Fubar from reacting to the all-too-close presence of the soldiers that surrounded them, poking their spears at the air tentatively.
"That's absurd!" Lilly exclaimed. "Hugo has had no opportunity to do any such thing; I will swear it on my honor!"
Gritting his teeth, Hugo flicked his knife around. "Is this another ironhead treachery?" he spat. "Why wait until now?"
The knight snorted, holding the hilt of his sheathed sword. His fellow knights moved to separate Lilly and her henchmen from the surrounded Grasslanders as he spoke. "You have violated the laws of Zexen, and therefore you are to stand trial in Vinay."
The circle of steel that enclosed them made Hugo feel trapped and nervous, and he could tell that his friends were similarly distraught. ((Rune-breaking ironheads… damn them. They're too many. We can't escape here, unless…)) he thought, swallowing and leveling a glare at the knight. His face was gaunt, almost emaciated, and his mouth was a tense line.
"Who are you to make this claim?" Sergeant Joe wondered, taking a seemingly casual step towards the knight.
The knight's face turned to the sergeant, but his neck remained arrogantly aloft. "I am Sir Alron of the Knights of Zexen. I serve the council, and the council has demanded that your ward is returned to Vinay… in chains, if need be."
Sergeant Joe turned to meet Hugo's eyes. "Perhaps it would be most prudent to—"
Restrained by her aides, and encircled by a group of soldiers, Lilly fumed. "Remove these thugs at once!" she demanded. "Have you notion of who I am!"
Alron turned his head to give her a cool gaze. "I know who you are, Lady Lilly. This does not concern you. We have business with the barbarians alone."
"That's not exactly right," Hugo said.
"Do elaborate," the knight said.
"You have business with me alone," Hugo corrected. In an instant, he nudged Fubar's flanks and reached out his hand towards Lulu, pulling him up behind him as the griffin cried out and lunged, slapping a spear aside to advance towards the side of the road.
Within moments, the scene was in chaos, with shouts from all involved filling the air as Fubar leapt. Hugo slammed his knife against the head of an intrusive spear, knocking it aside as another spearhead stabbed past his head. He leaned against Fubar's neck and reached out his hand as Sergeant Joe ran towards them. The sound of steel on steel rang out behind his back as his hand closed around the sergeant's arm, and as the duck leapt, he pulled with all his might, leveraging him between Lulu and himself.
Fubar screeched, and reared up to dodge a spear and deliver a massive claw swipe at the wielder's shoulder, sending the soldier to the ground, shrieking with pain. Desperately, Hugo ducked and parried weapons while trying to clear a space for Fubar to take flight.
"Wait!" Lilly cried out.
Hugo instinctively frowned. ((The ironheads won't hurt her; I'll leave her behind,)) he reasoned. Another few moments, and the soldiers would close the gap without hesitation. Sir Alron was shouting at the top of his lungs, and the knights tried to position their horses in the throng.
"You're not leaving me behind," Lilly shouted. Fubar flapped its wings, hovering half a foot above the ground as it searched for space. Breaking free of her aide's grip, Lilly motioned her horse forward and caused it to rear and slam its hooves into the back of a soldier. As the spearman crumpled onto the ground, her horse leapt, and she liberated herself from the stirrup and jumped. Hugo cursed loudly as she latched onto Lulu's back and dug her knees into Fubar's flanks. The griffin screeched in irritation, and Hugo turned his face towards her in fury.
Beneath her, three of the soldiers pulled out bows from behind their backs. Hugo froze with fear. ((If even one of them hits, we're done for!)) he reasoned. In a heartbeat, he caused Fubar to swivel in mid-air, turning halfway towards the archers, and without a second's consideration, he turned to Lulu. "Fubar trusts you," he said. "We'll meet later; I'll outrun them," he lied.
Hugo raised his knife and leapt. He bowled into the first of the archers, cutting down to sever the bowstring and open a gash in the soldier's wrist. The archer cried out in pain as Hugo rolled to the side, slamming his free hand into the neck of the flanking bowman. Fubar screeched behind him, and he could hear the others call his name as he knocked the bow out of the second archer's hands and leapt over his legs to stab his knife into the arm of the third.
The soldiers were upon him in an instant, and he had to throw himself into the ditch in order to avoid a spearhead. The second steel point drove into the moss near his head as he rolled to the side and scrambled to his feet, running clumsily through the underbrush and into the forest. Thoughts of the stormy night with Chris ran through his head as his heart jumped, and he dodged between trees in the desperate hope of losing his pursuers. ((Spirits, protect my friends!)) he prayed in silence.
The forest was a din of noise behind him as the zexens pursued. He saw a slope appear before him, and he ran towards it, leaping from the crest.
A lancing pain shot through his leg as something slammed into his thigh. He screamed, and the pain was aggravated as he hit the ground and bowled down the forested slope. The arrow lodged in his leg snapped near the head as he tried to halt his descent, and his head slammed into the trunk of a tree as he passed by, causing his vision to swim.
Struggling to rise, Hugo blinked and tried to separate the pain from his consciousness. ((I've got to stand, I've got to run,)) he thought in desperation.
A spearhead touched his neck. Somewhere in the distance, Fubar screeched.
Hugo froze, biting back the fear that nearly caused him to weep as he stared up at the spiteful face of a Zexen soldier.
"Sir Alron!" he called out as several other soldiers ran to surround him, leveling their spears. Their armor clinked as they moved. "Sir Alron, we've got the murderer!"
"I-I'm not a murderer," Hugo said defiantly, but he had to struggle to speak, and the words sounded pitiful to him.
"Damn barbarian scum," another soldier said, "We should kill him right here."
One of the soldiers shook his head. "The council commanded that he—"
"Well done," Alron's voice uttered, and a moment later, the soldiers parted as the knight strode up to Hugo.
"Never trust an ironhead," Hugo said, turning his head to spit at the ground.
Alron laughed, but it was a sound of spite rather than mirth. "Criminals like you are the worst," he sneered. "Did you think you could get away with anything in Zexen?"
"I didn't do anything wrong!" Hugo spat, "And you know it!"
With a wave of his hand, Alron ordered the soldiers surrounding Hugo to step aside. The sound of clinking metal filled the air as they obeyed. The knight drew his sword in a sinuous motion and pointed the blade towards Hugo.
"Get up, barbarian," he said.
Confused, Hugo rose to his feet, still clutching his knife. Glancing to his sides, he gauged his chances of escape. Spotting orange cloth all around him, he concluded that they were nil. He turned his eyes to Alron and scowled.
"Speechless?" the knight asked. "I thought as much. Let's play a little game of truth, barbarian. Let's have a duel, you and I, right here… and we'll find out who is superior; the Knights of Zexen or the Grassland barbarians. If you win, I'll let you leave."
A murmur of elation rose through the assembled soldiers, but no one laughed aloud.
Hugo gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pulsating pain in his thigh. "Will you let me heal myself?" he wondered.
"No," Alron said with a smirk. "There's no such thing as a fair fight. Circumstances are dictated by the superior party; in this case, me. The fact that you're alone, wounded… and have the lower ground… is mere indication of your inferiority."
Glowering, Hugo twirled the hilt of his knife with his fingers. "I always knew ironheads were cowards," he said. "I guess the knights are no exceptions."
Irritated mutters came from the assembled soldiers, but Alron seemed unfazed. "Big words from a boy who left his friends to plummet to their deaths," he said with a sneer.
Hugo's heart skipped a beat. "What!" ((No, that can't be true… can it?))
"You think I'd let that damn bird fly away?" Alron said, laughing spitefully.
"Die!" Hugo shouted, lunging with his unharmed leg and weaving past Alron's sword—
The knight stepped to the side, quickly parrying the knife with a simple wave of his sword. Hugo stumbled on his wounded leg, dodging a thrust and parrying an overhand cleave before struggling to his feet. Alron stepped to the side, thrusting quickly, and Hugo threw himself to the side—
—right into Alron's knee, which slammed into his back. Hugo grunted, swinging his knife in a wide arc to match and parry the knight's sword. A clang of steel rang out, and Alron retracted his blade, grabbing the weapon with both hands and slashing diagonally as Hugo rolled away. The blade whooshed past his ear.
Hugo rose and brought his dagger up in the stride, but the attack was slammed aside by the larger man's sword. The knight moved his sword, but Hugo recognized the feint and ignored it, spinning around to stab his knife against Alron's throat. His knife sliced through air, and a foot slammed down upon the arrow wound.
Hugo howled with pain as his knee buckled and he dropped to the ground. He swung his knife desperately, but the knight dodged the wild attack with ease and stepped in to slam his knee into Hugo's chin.
Hugo found himself staring up at the leering knight, and realized that he was sprawled onto his back.
"Looks like you lose, barbarian," Alron said with a mirthless grin.
Hugo struggled to speak as the knight gripped the cloth of his shirt tightly and pulled his back from the ground.
"I can't believe you little worms have pestered us for all these years. Soon enough, that'll be history."
"Y-you…" Hugo breathed.
"What's on your mind, murderer?" Alron wondered.
"Y-you b-beat me, b-but… you w-wouldn't stand a chance… against a real warrior," Hugo stuttered. ((Coward, Jimba, Dupa, Bazba, or my mother would trounce you,)) he thought.
For the first time, Hugo could see anger in Alron's face. The knight raised his gauntleted hand and delivered a heavy slap to Hugo's cheek. Reeling from the blow, his vision swam as the knight's backhand slap caught him, and he coughed blood. Hugo gasped in pain as the knight delivered a third strike and dropped him onto the ground. He whimpered from the ache as he felt a kick in his side.
Coughing and gasping, Hugo curled up into a ball and struggled to remain conscious as his body was wracked with pain. His head felt like a pinprick of needles, and his thoughts were spinning. A pervasive humming sound rang through his mind as he coughed and breathed raggedly.
"Haul him up. We're taking him with us to the Amur Plains," Alron said. His voice seemed distant to Hugo.
"Sir, the council commanded that he was to be brought back to Vinay at once. Shouldn't we—"
"Silence!" Alron retorted. "It is the knights' duty to interpret and carry out the will of the council, and yours to obey the knights'."
((Spirits… let them be safe,)) Hugo thought. His mind screamed as it clawed for consciousness, but as each claw lost its grip, he succumbed to oblivion. Thoughts of his friends brought forth nightmarish visions that swam to the surface of his tortured dreams.
-Bazba-
A wealth of emotion had overcome Bazba as he lay bleeding from the wounds inflicted by the Knight Captain, but of all the feelings that vied for attention as his mind seethed, only fury remained. Fury, and the growing sense of shame that stemmed from having failed his chieftain.
Bazba had watched, helplessly, as the she-devil walked casually out of the Great Hollow, bearing the severed head of Chief Zepon. ((For that, blood must flow,)) he promised silently. With the females evacuated to the hidden lairs, the remaining warriors had gathered around him in the central cavern. They had turned to him for leadership, though he felt disgusted with accepting it. Responsible for the defense of the Great Hollow in the absence of Captain Dupa, he had been entrusted with safeguarding the life of their chieftain, and he had failed.
Ashamed as he was, he could neither rest nor relinquish command before he had avenged Chief Zepon, and the fury within his mind could not abate until that task was completed.
"Send a message to the warm-bloods," he said to the runners. "Tell them we're retaliating."
Closing his eyes, Bazba breathed slowly, fanning the flames of his fury. ((We must move quickly, now. We can't let the ironheads spring their trap,)) he told himself.
-Sarah-
"Your lack of caution astounds me, Albert," Sarah said, stepping into the tent. Zexen camp followers were milling about the cloth pavilion, and the bustling sounds were dulled only slightly as she let the flap drop behind her.
"Your understanding of strategy is limited at best, while your opinions are expansive at least, Sarah," Albert said. He sat on a folding chair, sipping tea from a ceramic cup held gingerly with two fingers. Steam rose from the liquid, and the spices filled the tent with a distinct, rich scent.
"Indeed? You are practically advertising your presence," Sarah said, sniffing. She folded her arms over her chest, pressing her staff against her body as she studied him. He was wearing an elaborate white coat with patterns in black and shades of gray, but the garment was buttoned only at the middle, leaving the tall collar ruffled and creased. His dark garnet hair was arranged in a casually unkempt fashion. As a whole, he looked rugged, and though Sarah could not prove it, and cared too little to press the matter, she was convinced that he made an effort to keep a disheveled appearance.
Albert sighed, handing his cup to Yuber, who towered motionlessly over him. "Do you expect me to cite something trite? How about 'keep your friends close, and your enemies still closer?' Perhaps 'the closer to the flame, the greater the shadow' suffices? Others come to mind, no doubt gleaned from some abject manual written by some ancestor or the other."
"Is there a point to your meanderings?" Sarah wondered, letting her staff drop to balance her hand against the gem. She rested the other hand on her hip. ((The fool! Hiding in the middle of the Zexen camp!)) The thought was staggering to her.
Albert shrugged, making no motion to rise. "Some would argue that speech intrinsically has a point, by virtue of—"
Sarah raised her free hand to motion for him to stop. "Spare me," she groaned.
Albert smiled. He started to lean backwards in his seat, but quickly caught himself when he realized that the chair had no back. His smile vanished. "Sometimes the most brazen, unexpected course of action is the one which is the most effective, by virtue of its unpredictability. All things aside, no one is looking for us. Where would you have us hide away, dear? I am open to suggestions, but please remember that it is difficult to find good tea in a cave."
((No doubt his antics are designed to perturb me. Everything is a game to him,)) she thought. "As long as he trusts your judgment, I will not question it," she said.
"Perfect. I cannot have you arguing with me over insignificant details while my mind is better served on further ruminations."
Restraining herself, Sarah drew a deep breath and took a step towards Albert, forcing him to raise his eyes in order to look up at her.
Casually, almost ceremoniously, Albert rose from his seat and walked over to smooth a vellum map that had been spread out over the nearby table. "Besides," he said, "the Zexens will eventually be under our command." He hesitated for a moment on the word 'our.' "Watching them now leaves me better equipped to anticipate them later," he said, as if it justified everything.
Sarah spared a glance at Yuber. His eyes were shielded under the brim of his hat, but the tightness of his lips and the recalcitrance of his demeanor suggested that he was irked. ((You do not like to serve, do you?)) she mused. He still held the cup in his hand, and his stone face revealed no recognition. She could not even be certain that he knew she was present.
Sarah turned to regard Albert. "What about your plot?" she wondered. "The lizards are sure to be furious now, but Chris' presence at the camp can be vouched for at the time of the attack—by the Karayan chieftain, no less."
A smile creased Albert's lips as he turned from the map, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his coat. "No matter. Once the misunderstanding is cleared up, the truce will already be broken beyond repair. You give these 'pagans' far too much credit. Ultimately, they are savages; too hot-headed to think before acting."
"Pagans they are, but the truth will surface before long."
"Before long," Albert said, "the bishop's plan will come to fruition. Nothing matters then, does it?" The tone of his voice seemed to suggest that this was the truth.
"Even so…"
Albert bided his time for a few seconds, waiting for her to elaborate. When she did not, he spoke. "Those who have no more arguments should abandon the argument. Besides, you told me you wanted short term solutions, true?"
"You are right," Sarah said with a sigh. ((Why does this irk me so much? I have faith in him… I know he is right. Why does this… gall me so much?)) she wondered.
Without another word, Albert strode past her and flicked the tent flap aside to step outside. "Come, let us watch," he said.
Sarah followed, glancing at Yuber for long enough to see him move.
Outside, the camp was as she remembered it. Soldiers and camp followers of a dozen vocations mingled on the narrow paths between the square collections of tents, and the occasional knight could be sighted, with or without a steed. Carried on creaking wheels, wagons brought water, grain and a thousand and one little things necessary to run a small army, and the sound of smiths plying their trade filled the air.
The boisterous voice of a knight rang out from an adjacent path, causing Albert to halt, and Sarah in turn to stop by his side to see what caught his attention. As they watched, a procession of five mounted knights and a few dozen travel-worn soldiers passed. In their midst, a riderless horse carried a large leather sack strapped to its back. ((What might the purpose of this convoy be? Some important resource?)) she wondered.
Glancing at Albert, she saw that he was watching the knight in the middle with great interest. Unlike his peers, the mounted man was not wearing his helmet, and was fiddling with a curved knife. The smile on his face seemed predatory, and triumphant.
When the knights had passed, Albert turned to smile at Sarah. "It seems that your marionettes will prove entertaining, if nothing else…" he remarked. Shaking his head, he studied the milling craftsmen and laundry women. "The flames of hate will be fanned high enough to burn the sky. Soon the matter of who did what will be irrelevant. These people are far too simple to pierce a complex plot… Really, this is a waste of my talent." He said the last sentence with a reluctant sigh, exaggerating the observation.
Sarah shook her head. "What are you talking about?"
Albert waved her question aside and turned to Yuber. "The lizards are coming, are they not? You can sense them?"
Yuber nodded simply.
Albert drew a deep breath and turned his eyes to the sky as he exhaled. "The tension is tangible…"
"Is it time?" Sarah wondered.
Albert hesitated long enough for Yuber to note his assent with a small nod. "Yes," he said to Sarah.
Sarah could not help but watch Yuber as she produced the glowing crimson rune from her pocket. He was smiling, now. Swallowing, Sarah held the rune aloft within its Water Crystal shell, and drew upon its power.
The very air trembled with fury as the Rage Rune pulsated with eldritch energies, spreading its intangible tendrils in all directions to envelop the path, the camp, and ultimately, the Amur Plains.
Sarah's mouth twitched, but she forced the wrath to abide, knowing that it was artificial. She turned to look at Albert, and was surprised to see him glaring at her. ((Is that artificial?)) she wondered.
The first sounds of battle reached her ears.
"It has begun," she breathed.
-Chris-
Chris was in the middle of a sentence when the flap on the opposite side of the tent was torn aside, revealing a rugged Karayan.
"Chief, there's fighting!" he exclaimed, even as Lucia sprung to her feet with a glare.
"Deal with it!" she snapped.
"It's not just a fight! The whole camp is…" He paused, shaking his head. "Trust me," he said.
Lucia cast a suspicious glance at Chris before running off without a word.
"What is the meaning of—" Chris started, standing up with a groan.
She heard the flap part behind her and rose to find a soldier saluting her. "Madam," the blonde man said, "the Grasslanders are attacking!"
"What!" Chris exclaimed. Her hand went instinctively to her hip before she remembered that she did not wear her sword. Frowning, she ran past the soldier, leaving the tent.
Outside, muffled cries turned to screams, and the camp was ablaze. Turning her head, she struggled vainly to apprise herself of the situation. As the Karayan had said, the fighting had spilled out across the camp. ((Why!)) she wondered.
"It's the Lizard Clan," the soldier said. He ran up to her side and held out her sheathed sword.
Chris' blood was pumping with fury as she surveyed the scene. Steeling herself to reveal no emotion, she took the sheath with a nod and quickly fastened it to her belt. "What sparked this?" she asked.
The soldier shook his head. "I do not know, madam. Lizard Clan reinforcements struck without warning. I suppose they must have traveled through some of the—"
"What about the knights?" she cut in. ((Goddess, the camps are too close… the troops are too scattered. This could turn into a bloodbath,)) she thought. ((Cursed barbarians!)) Her eyes turned to the tall orange pavilion that rose from a crowd of smaller white tents in the distance. Screams of rage rang out all around her.
"Divided," he said. "There's no organization, yet."
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Lieutenant Nash Clovis," he replied.
Chris turned to look into his eyes. "Lieutenant Nash; find Sir Salome and inform him that we're regrouping around the arsenal. You're dismissed," she commanded.
Nash gave a flawless salute and ran off.
Drawing her sword, Chris dashed towards the arsenal. She had wound her way through a throng of tents and was crossing a collapsed pavilion with overturned furniture bulging from the slack cloth when a pair of arrows slammed into the ground at her feet.
Furious, Chris threw ducked and sought shelter behind a sprawled, round table that formed a lump in the cloth-covered ground. She had just enough time to see the bowmen among a group of Karayan warriors emerging from behind a tent. She peeked out, trying to see—
A loud thwack sounded as an arrow slammed into the table, burying the arrowhead halfway through the wood. Chris retracted her head out of instinct and cursed. Making a swift decision, she grabbed the cloth and began to cut open a long slit, even as she heard the Karayans calling to each other while circling her hideout.
Just as Chris freed the table from the torn cloth, a brawny warrior leapt rounded it and lunged for her. She rose halfway and brought her sword up through a diagonal arc to slam his long knife away. Before he had time to respond, she came down with a follow-up slash that bit into his neck. She kicked the dying man away and turned to meet a knife thrust with her sword. Parrying the attack, she took advantage of the assailant's surprise by kicking away his forward leg. As he fell, she impaled him on her sword. The Karayan's eyes were wide with shock as he stuttered blood and died.
Chris winced to the sound of arrows impacting against the wood as she grabbed its edge and rolled it before her, causing it to bowl into the side of a tent. Wasting no time, she used the opportunity to slice an impromptu window and leapt through into the dim interior. There were slain soldiers strewn about the beds within, and most of them were unarmored. She ignored them, but a blinding anger threatened to overcome her senses as she rushed through the tent flap.
Rounding a corner, Chris saw a Karayan with his back against her raise a knife, and instinctively stabbed him through the gut. Knocking him aside, she came upon a violent struggle between a group of Zexen soldiers and Lizard Clan warriors. She was vaguely aware of the soldiers' elated cries of recognition as she leapt into the fray. A massive glaive flashed through her vision, and she raised her sword and placed her hand against the back to block the massive blow. With her hands ringing from the impact, she used her off-hand to push the haft of the glaive down as she slashed, slitting the shocked lizard's throat. The battle turned quickly, and the remaining enemies were driven off before she had time to react. The soldiers looked to her, and she found herself shouting some order to them. When she ran, they followed her.
Passing her own tent, she found it ransacked, and the bodies of several soldiers were littered around it. Ignoring the mess, she kept running.
"Lady Chris!" a familiar voice called out. Startled back into awareness, Chris turned to see Percival ride up the path. "Thank the Goddess!" he exclaimed. Behind him, a small contingent of soldiers followed.
His face was bruised in several places, and his neck was drenched with horrifying blood. ((It cannot be his,)) she thought as logic returned. "He would be dead," she added in a mumble.
"Milady?" Percival said in a puzzled voice.
Chris shook her head and glanced around her. "What is going on?" she demanded. Her heart was pounding, but she tried to moderate the tone of her voice and calm herself.
"As far as I've been able to tell, the Lizard Clan initiated an attack, and the barbarians naturally sided with their allies. Things are a mess here," he said, glowering as he spoke, "and I don't even know where to begin with recounting losses." He shook his head furiously. "Borus and Alron counterattacked. They're hitting the Karayan village, and the battle's been shifting east on the plains."
"I gave no such orders!" Chris exclaimed.
Percival pursed his lips. The look of anger on his face suggested that he was wished to argue with her, but he said nothing.
"The barbarians will outflank and overwhelm them," she concluded. "We will have to cut open a path of retreat for them."
"Milady," Percival said, saluted. Turning his head, he motioned for the soldiers to move and shouted "Bring Lady Chris a horse!"
"Where is Arrow Feather?" Chris wondered.
"With Salome," Percival explained.
One of the soldiers produced a brown mare and handed the reins to Chris. Wasting no time, she leapt into the saddle and commanded the assembled soldiers towards Karaya.
The anger exacerbated her headache, and she felt as though her skull would split to the rhythm of her veins.
-Alron-
The sickening scent of burning flesh filled Alron's nostrils as he trotted his gelding, Rapier, through the remains of Karaya. Ignoring the stench, he reveled in the triumphant feeling of conquest. His blood danced in his veins, and his eyes were wide with excitement as Rapier stepped on the broken remains of barbarian dwellings. ((Finally, the time to sweep the savages from the fields has come,)) he thought. "Indeed!" he shouted on an impulse, "Never again shall you harm the people of Zexen!" Clutching furiously onto the hilt of his blood-covered sword, he drew a deep breath and shuddered with satisfaction.
The soldiers around him gave no sign of reaction. They were efficient in their work, running through the wrecked village in small teams of three. They searched for survivors, but at this point, there were only bodies to be found. Instead, they used their feet and weapons to break and tear everything in their path. ((Truly, their zeal is inspiring tonight,)) Alron thought.
He could no longer hear Borus' voice in the distance, but he was out there somewhere, hunting. Alron had never doubted the knight's skill and dedication, but his boundless ferocity had come as a surprise. ((He is a true patriot,)) Alron mused.
A cacophony of voices crying out in fury alerted him to the arrival of the barbarians. The plains seemed to resound with the force of their footfalls upon the emerald fields.
"To arms!" Alron shouted. "Rally to me!"
((Goddess, grant me victory!)) he prayed.
-Chris-
Flames lit the darkening sky in a hue of livid orange as Chris approached the battlefield. She heard the battle before she could see it, and when she crested the hill, she stared down on the scene before her.
She went cold inside, drawing a deep breath to sustain the rage. All that remained of Karaya was ashes and rubble, and the flames still rose from the skeleton of the barbarian settlement. ((Goddess, is this the work of the knights?)) she lamented.
On the opposite side of the ruins, the sounds of battle called her attention to a small regiment of Zexen soldiers led by a handful of knights struggling against an army of Karayans and Lizard Clan warriors. The barbarian ranks swelled with each passing moment as more of their kind emerged in groups from all directions. Chris had engaged in several smaller skirmishes on the way from the camp, and her own ranks had grown larger as smaller detachments of knights and soldiers joined her.
She turned her head to yell "Strike a wedge into the enemy's right flank; open a path for our brethren!" Spurring her borrowed horse into motion, she yelled "Charge!" and set off with Percival at her side.
Chris kept her eyes forward as she flowed down the hill, matching her pace to ensure that her horse would stand at the arrow's head of the wedge without outpacing the others. Though unfamiliar to her, the mare was expertly trained for battle, and it had responded fluidly to each command she had given. ((She will not shy from battle,)) she believed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Chris saw sparse groups of barbarians swarming in from the sides as the line before her scrambled to face the charging knights. With eyes wide open, she unsheathed her sword and drew it over the mare's head and onto her right side. The warriors seemed to rush up to her as she charged. She gripped her reins fiercely and braced herself against the saddle. With one last breath, she raised her sword.
Expelling her breath in a furious shout, Chris swung her sword down. She did not shift her gaze, but she felt a resistance, and then something tore loose. Her arm was drawn back from the force, but the momentum of the charge carried her clear, and she whipped her sword up, splashing blood. She saw a leveled glaive before her and halted her horse. The mare reared up, and she swung her sword to knock aside the lizard's weapon. With a crack, her horse's hooves came down upon his face and sent him sprawling. She commanded the horse forward, trampling the warrior.
Through the shifting throng, she could see her allies; close enough to watch them retreat from the barbarians, and see them run out of space. ((There is no time,)) she feared.
Stopped in her charge, Chris fought to keep aloft. She nudged her horse aside, dodging a devastating glaive, and leaned down to slash across the warrior's scaled shoulder. Commanding the horse forward, she cut past an unbalanced knight and stabbed her sword through a Karayan fighter's side. The warrior's pained scream was barely audible in the battle's din.
Steel flashed out of the corner of her eye, and she turned. She swung her sword, and the stained blade clanged against a long knife. In the next instant, she turned in the saddle to slam aside a charging sword. The attacker was trampled by Pervical's charger. She met his eyes for a moment before turning her horse. ((The path is opening, but is there time!)) she wondered.
"Break out!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her horse reared to avoid a glaive, and she leaned down to deliver a vicious slash. She felt something stab into her armored hip, and something tugged at her waist. She staggered in her saddle, and she was pulled back. Her right foot left its stirrup, and she tumbled over, hanging down against the horse's flank. ((No time to mount,)) she thought. Desperation coursed through her mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a third assailant knocked aside by a horse. The Karayans raised their knives and lunged.
Deciding quickly, Chris swung her sword and cut the stirrup. She crashed into the ground to a symphony of metal, and the wind was knocked from her lungs. The Karayans' knives struck air, but they quickly adapted. Rolling underneath the horse, Chris prayed that it would not trample her as it neighed and reared up. Avoiding its hooves, she scrambled to her feet, bowling into a barbarian's back. Catching her balance before him, she switched grip on her hilt and slit his throat as he turned.
"Break out!" she repeated, watching the flow of the battle with a sinking heart. She heard Percival shout from somewhere around her, and she turned to look for him.
With a furious bellow, a Lizard Clan warrior charged her. She leapt to the side, but his glaive raked across her side, opening a painful wound. The glaive was swung around and descended for her head. Ducking, she slammed her sword into the haft. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard her blade crack. Before she could react, a Karayan rounded the lizard. She swung her blade instinctively—
—and her sword shattered two-thirds down the blade, sending shards of steel into the attacker's arm. He roared, but pressed the attack. Chris reached out to grab his arm, but felt the glaive careen off of her armor. The force of the partial blow took her breath away, and she staggered, grasping the Karayan's wrist.
She heard him scream, and the lizard added his voice to the choir in the next instant. As she cleared her eyes, gasping for breath, she saw a knight looming above her. It took a moment to recognize Borus: His armor was covered in blood, and his eyes were wild. ((Goddess, what has he done…?)) she wondered.
For a moment, they were both speechless. The sounds of screaming men and clashing steel resounded around them. "Borus, what…?" Chris asked.
"Milady, your horse," he breathed. He seemed to be glaring at her.
Chris turned to find that the mare was prancing nervously within a small pocket on the battlefield. In three swift steps, she ran to the horse and mounted her. She fumbled for a moment, and remembered the severed stirrup. She turned the mare towards Borus to see him parry a glaive and stab his sword through the throat of its wielder.
"We are withdrawing. Now," she commanded.
Borus turned both horse and head and looked at her with open fury. "Milady!" he growled.
Chris gaped in shock. She felt her own anger rise. "NOW!" she shouted. ((Goddess, what madness is this!)) she wondered.
Borus gritted his teeth before nodding. "Yes, milady."
"I think not, Silver Maiden," a woman's voice called out.
Turning her horse, Chris saw Lucia stride into the pocket, flanked by a Lizard Clan captain adorned with colorful feathers. ((Those colors… that must be Dupa,)) she reasoned. Borus growled, and Chris raised her hand to halt him. "We are withdrawing," Chris said.
"No," Dupa said. "She-devil, you die here. For the murder of our chieftain, your blood will feed the Grasslands." He spun his glaive, moving the massive weapon with surprising deftness.
Lucia's eyes were cold, and blood dripped from the coiled whip in her hands. "You have murdered my people, knight," she said, cracking her whip.
((Chieftain…? Murdered…?)) Chris thought in confusion. ((This must be a misunderstanding. This is all a mistake! But Karaya… this is no mistake,)) she thought grimly.
"No more blood needs to be spilled here today—" she began.
Dupa roared, swinging his glaive in a wide arc as he charged. Lucia followed. Backing up, Chris panicked, feeling her hip for the blade that had been broken. All around her, knight and solder alike seemed to shrink back against the barbarian reinforcements. ((It is over. This is it,)) she thought.
"Halt, or I'll slit this boy's throat!" someone hollered over the chaos. Chris saw Lucia's face turn, and the chieftain's eyes widened with terror as her mouth gaped open. Turning, Chris saw Alron motion his horse closer, flanked by a pair of knights. One of the knights held an unconscious boy in his arms, pressing sword against his throat. Chris was stunned to silence as she recognized the boy. ((That is… Hugo!)) she realized.
"Dupa, wait!" Lucia shouted.
The lizard reacted with surprise, but halted his charge and held his weapon before him. "What!" he called out. Turning, he saw Hugo and reacted with a roar of anger.
"Call a standstill, or your son is dead!" Alron shouted. The smile on his lips set Chris' insides aflame. She breathed heavily as she tried to keep herself from exploding.
((This is ignoble; this is no way for knights to act!)) she fumed. Looking around, the battle was dying down as though a ripple had been sent through the assembled warriors. Lucia hollered desperately, calling her fighters to back off where they vied for ground with her own soldiers. Solitary shrieks of pain and surprise rang out from the increasingly silent battlefield.
Swallowing, Chris gritted her teeth behind tight lips and met the chieftain's eyes. Worry seemed to battle outrage, and her body had gone stiff. ((This has gone too far, but I cannot undo what has been done. Though it sullies the knights' honor, what has been started must play out,)) she resolved. She glanced at Hugo with worry. He looked weak, and seemed unconscious, but alive. The outrage of the sight stabbed at her heart.
"Release him," Lucia said firmly. The tone of her voice was a desperate balance between pleading and commanding, and she seemed to tremble where she stood, as though remaining in place was achieved through sheer force of will.
"Not yet," Alron said. "There are others; the villagers are being held elsewhere. If you want them to live…"
"He lies," Dupa said simply. "There are no other survivors."
"A knight does not lie!" Chris exclaimed. "Not even to an enemy." ((That much of knightly honor remains, at least,)) she assured herself.
Lucia seemed torn, nervously rubbing her whip. "Can you guarantee his life, and theirs, Silver Maiden?" she demanded to know.
"Yes," Chris said simply. "He will be released once we are safely within Brass Castle, and so will the others."
Lucia hesitated for a moment before nodding. "So be it," she said. A few seconds passed, and worry seemed to drain from her eyes, leaving only hatred. "I didn't think you were such a formidable coward, Silver Maiden."
Chris winced, feeling her cheeks color.
"How dare you!" Borus growled. In an instant, his sword was raised.
"Borus, calm down!" Percival shouted, laying a hand on the bloody knight's shoulder to keep him from charging.
Suddenly, an arrow struck against Dupa's glaive with a clang. The Lizard Clan captain roared as he whirled around to find the source. Chris turned to see Roland and Salome thundering down the hillside towards the battlefield, accompanied by a few dozen soldiers.
"Step aside, lizard, or the next one skewers your head!" the elf called out.
"Coward!" Dupa roared. "Let's see you try!"
Lucia hissed. "Dupa, no!" she exclaimed.
Roland reined his horse in and raised his bow again. "You're no match for a true knight, lizard," he shouted.
Growling loudly, Dupa stabbed the butt of his glaive against the ground in frustration. "One day, warm-blood, we shall see," he bellowed. A collective cry rose from the assembled Lizard Clan warriors, as though their wordless voices backed their captain's statement.
Shivering, Chris motioned her horse forward. "Chief Lucia. Again, I promise that the terms laid forth will stand. Let us end the blood shed, at least for today. Mistakes have been made today…"
"Yes, Silver Maiden. A mistake has been made," Lucia said. "But the mistake is yours, in attacking the defenseless people of Karaya. Mark my words; this is not over. You ironheads cling to your city, but Karaya is more than a village. We will never yield."
Chris kept her eyes on the chieftain and tried to hide her shame behind a cool gaze. "We are leaving," she said.
Lucia's features contorted with poorly concealed rage as she looked up at Chris. Her words were spoken in a furious haste. "I am disappointed. I only hope that one day the spirits will give you children of your own, so that you can grasp the full extent of your cowardice on this day."
Chris froze, gaping. "He is…" she stammered, staring at Lucia. ((Hugo is her son. Of course; how could I have ignored the obvious?)) she chided herself.
Alron chuckled behind her. "Don't worry, barbarian. I'll get him back to you in one piece."
"Enough!" Chris snapped. She shot a murderous glare at the knight, but received no reaction beyond a cryptic smile. She turned her gaze on Lucia again. "Disappointed? Believe me, so am I. Were it I alone, I would surrender Hugo and die a warrior... But, you know the duties of a leader better than I do."
For a moment only, she thought she saw surprise in the chieftain's eyes. Chris turned her head, galloping through the path that opened as the barbarians parted like a wave.
((Once we reach Brass Castle… Once we are safe…Goddess, grant me the strength to master myself until then!)) she prayed.
-Hugo-
The first sensation Hugo felt was a dull ache that seemed to emanate from several spots, but suffused every fiber of his being. With awareness came understanding of what exactly that being was, and he began to recognize the pains in his jaw and side. Groaning, he struggled to open his eyes, but a wave of nausea overwhelmed him.
"It looks like our little rat is awake," a voice said. Though familiar, Hugo could not place it, except to attribute a sense of dread and anger to it. "Knock him out again," the voice added.
"No. He will not be further harmed," a woman's voice countered. The words were tense, but Hugo could not grasp the meaning of the conversation. Another wave of nausea caused him to shudder.
"Yes, milady," a third voice answered.
Hugo could hear the sound of hooves falling on dirt; a good many hooves, but even disoriented as he was, the absence of ambient voices seemed awry to him. Shaking his head, Hugo gasped for air and blinked, peering out at the world around him. At first, the waning light of the sun blinded him, but as his eyes began to adjust, he began to see armor-clad men and women astride horses. ((Ironheads?)) he thought, struggling for comprehension.
Hugo twisted, and felt something restrain him. Strong hands were holding him against the breastplate of a knight. The man himself was restraining him, he realized.
"L-let me go," he stuttered, but the words formed a weak growl.
Someone chuckled. "Not quite yet, barbarian," the man said.
Suddenly, Hugo recognized the voice, and with a start, he remembered. "You rune breaker!" he cursed at the knight with the gaunt face. His words were met by a cruel smile.
"Hugo, please listen to me," the woman said behind his back. Hugo recognized her voice as well.
"Chris! So you're the one who—"
"Hugo, listen to me!" she exclaimed.
Hugo turned as well as he could to watch her. He struggled against the strong grip of the knight, but he was too weak to wriggle free, exhausted as he was. "Why did you do this!" he shouted. Outrage and—for some reason—disappointment overwhelmed him. ((Why would she do this?)) he wondered.
Chris drew a sharp breath. "I had nothing to do with this!" she shouted.
Silence enveloped the knights as their eyes turned to their captain. For a few seconds, Hugo was speechless. ((She's got to be lying,)) he decided. "I—"
"Milady, look!" exclaimed a knight. A hum of surprise went through the assembled soldiers, and the knight's horse halted beneath Hugo.
"KWEEE!"
The ironheads' voices rose in shock as their horses whinnied and began to scatter. Their riders struggled to calm them even as Fubar swooped down. Hugo squinted against the setting sun and barely made out the silhouettes of three figures mounted upon the griffin's back.
The knights were shouting, and Hugo heard Chris issue stern commands to organize her troops. He tuned out the words, focusing on his friends. ((Spirits, don't do anything rash!)) he prayed.
"Hugo!" Lulu cried out as Fubar plunged towards the knights. The horse reared beneath Hugo, causing the knight to struggle with the reins and stirrup as Hugo fell against him.
"Stay away, Lu!" Hugo shouted. Growling, he bit his teeth into the unprotected wrist near his face and tore at the arm. The grip tightened, and held him fast. He kicked and buckled, fearing to fall off of the horse, but fearing all the more to remain restrained.
"Hugo, grab my hand!" Sergeant Joe called out.
"We'll catch you!" Lilly said. Hugo was surprised to hear her voice.
"No, stay away, they'll—" Hugo began.
The knight rammed his fist into his stomach, knocking the air from his chest. He winced, closing his eyes as he fought for air and against the pain. He heard Sergeant Joe scream something, but a dozen voices drowned out his. He opened his eyes.
Lulu leapt from Fubar's back, brandishing his dagger with a murderous glare. He sailed down, slamming into the knight and accidentally burying a knee in Hugo's side. Hugo gasped, and Lulu used the momentum to tear the knight from his saddle. The man fell with a scream and a thud, and Hugo regained his orientation in time to see his friend stab his knife into the knight's throat.
Alron shouted wordlessly as he motioned his horse towards them and raised his sword. Stumbling to his feet, Hugo caught the knight's arm with all his might on the downswing, stopping the blade short of Lulu's head. Alron glowered at him, and tossed him aside. Hugo slammed into the ground and rolled away, and saw his knife fastened onto the horse's barding with a leather strap. He leapt and tore the knife from its resting place, slamming the blade against Alron's sword.
Gritting his teeth, Hugo held his ground as Alron pushed against his weapon, forcing him back and down. Their faces met and their eyes locked in a cold struggle. Fubar's screeches split the air above. Slowly but surely, Hugo yielded his ground, tearing through the grass.
"Cease this at once!" Chris shouted. The sound of galloping hooves approached.
"You coward!" Lulu shouted behind his back. "I'll kill you for what you've done to my brother!" His voice was frantic, filled with mindless fury.
"Lu, d-don't…!" Hugo gasped. He wanted to turn, but he could not take his eyes off of Alron. The knight was smiling coldly, and his gaunt face was a mask of malice around his wide eyes.
Hugo retracted his dagger with a sudden jerk, lunging past Alron's outstretched sword and slamming his blade against it to knock it away. In an instant, he turned and ran—
Lulu screamed, charging to meet Chris' galloping horse. Hugo raised his eyes as he ran. He saw Chris' eyes widen and her sword leap from its sheath. Lulu leapt, grabbing the saddle and stabbing his knife—
Chris' sword pierced his stomach, protruding from his back as he fell back, sliding off the blade.
Hugo screamed, and the world seemed to succumb to silence. He screamed, as though his own heart had been pierced. He ran through the silent world, with eyes only for his friend, whose body slammed onto the ground. He threw himself down, fathoming Lulu's body, and he screamed. His face rose, and he barely registered Chris' shocked face as he shouted. The words that left his mouth seemed meaningless. He could not hear them.
He clasped his hands around Lulu's limp body and grasped his knife. His body was shaking, but in the silence, only Lulu seemed real. Only the blood that flowed from his chest seemed to matter.
He felt a tug, and he was dragged from the ground. He clutched Lulu and the knife with all of his might, and the wind ran over him as the ground shrank away beneath. Feathered hands grasped his shoulders.
When sound returned, he found that he was sobbing uncontrollably. Heedless, he rested in Sergeant Joe's arms, and in turn, he hugged Lulu's lifeless body to his own and felt his still-warm cheeks against his. The wind ruffled their hair, and droplets of blood and tears mixed with the sky as the spirits wrested Lulu's soul from the world.
Author's Notes: Sorry for the long delay; updates should come more frequently now that my Master's Thesis has been completed.
Do you have any thoughts or comments? By all means, add a review! I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter, since I am not convinced of its quality. Even so, I am glad to have this over with. With this event handled, I am given greater freedom.
Just to make things clear, I do intend to tie the sack on this as a satisfying romance… Things do not seem so romantic at the moment, but just trust me; I am going somewhere with this.
