Chapter 11

Noin, a few weeks ago somewhere in the Grand region.

It was easy. Jump back, roll left, counter. This was the simple pattern she'd been following nearly all morning.

The man before her was relentless in his assault, she had barely dodged her opponent's hammering blow mere seconds prior. Noin braced herself for another attack.

She knew she couldn't dodge this one. Thus, tensing her abdomen, Noin took the blow and countered it with a well-timed knife throw. The blade sailed true, striking the throat of the would-be bandit, leaving him to drown in his own blood.

There had been thirty of them earlier, and now thirty bodies took their place. Noin bent to retrieve her combat knife. The large knife was a recent gift from her father, its steel surface mucked in the blood of her enemies. She tore the dying man's shirt, wiping the blade, before wordlessly turning on heel and stalking off deeper into the forests of Grand. She had more thieves to hunt.

Gray, this morning in Claire village

The early morning light streamed lazily through the curtains, the sun's impassive gaze striking the dragon slayer's face. Gray had been awake for a few hours now, lacking the energy to get out of bed.

That last fight had really taken a lot out of him, who would've known that fighting twelve dragons solo was so tough? He was Dragon Slayer Gray, the man who'd killed so many dragons he was cursed with their form, he was not supposed to get tired out killing a mere twelve virium dragons. After all, in his heyday he'd taken on fifty at once and walked away with a mere six scars upon his battle-plate, scars he never bothered to fix.

Those twelve he'd fought yesterday were smarter than your average dragon, they'd actively covered each other's weaknesses and all targeted those very same scars Gray had worn with such pride. Now his armor was ruined, large gashes donning the plate, holes torn in vital places. Gray was thankful for his draconian healing factor, without it, he'd probably be long dead.

He was losing his touch. Perhaps it was time to settle down for a while, get a pretty young wife and have a kid or two, before finding some new adventure to go on. Yes, he decided, it would be best to leave a legacy behind before he died in honorable combat with some fierce dragon somewhere.

His path set, Gray managed to wander out of the inn, not really paying attention to where his feet were taking him, but confidently striding on nonetheless.

Poe, Dark Forest outskirts, late afternoon

The afternoon sun beat down upon him as he dragged the bloodied corpse along the well-worn path. Poe was headed back to the village, his bounty killed. The enormous bear looking creature had single-handedly wiped out a merchant caravan headed toward Grand city, and Poe had been dispatched to take care of it, and take care of it he had. The massive bear-thing had put up one hell of a fight, and if it weren't for his expert aim, Poe wasn't quite sure he'd have come outta this one unscathed.

Not that his pride would ever let him admit that, no, he was already thinking up what exactly to tell Mitsue, obviously majorly aggrandizing his achievement. But Mitsue wouldn't care, she'd be more than content to listen to any of his wildly-spun tales, hanging on to every word.

He had really learned to appreciate his wife's attentions in recent weeks, in fact, the very next time he saw Felt, he'd definitely help him out with the ladies, for he was Dr Poe-love guru. On the thought of Felt, Poe secretly worried for his airhead friend, what trouble had he gotten himself into now? He had all the confidence in the world that Felt would be fine, but you never know-the world is a big place after all. Uh... like no homo.

Moving on to less depressing thoughts, what did he want for dinner? Definitely not fish, he was so burnt out on fish. Yes, Poe decided, bear steak would make an excellent meal. But how to trick Mitsue into making something that wasn't fish?

This in mind, the fairy crossed the threshold into the gates of Zwital village, the bloodied corpse dragging behind him still.

Felt & Fee, Riese Palace, midday

Felt was bored. Why did waiting have to suck so hard? He sighed for what must've been the millionth time, waiting for Fee to get ready to leave.

They'd been stuck in the palace for the last two weeks now, but what for? Max had already ascended to the throne, Fee had given a formal explanation, Felt had enjoyed delicious seafood at the following party, and not to mention word of their subsequent engagement. He was introduced as the hero of the war of Revolution, as the storming of Riese palace was now known, and as the adopted son of the governor of Eden.

Felt had been content with hanging around Riesevelt for the first few days-even for the first week, but now? He was bored as all hell. They were supposed to leave at noon today, but Fee was taking forever to finish packing. It was already twenty three minutes past noon. Felt was not so petty, but she'd had two weeks to get her stuff ready-and she was the responsible one of their group. Oh joy.

Okay, so she finally came out, and only thirty seven minutes past noon. Felt quickly stood, anxious to get on the road, he had places he still wanted to see after all. Fee seemed distracted, leaving must be hard for her. Leaving her life as a queen behind, all for him. To always be on the move, always exploring, and fighting, never staying in one place for too long. It was only natural that this would be hard for her.

Felt wordlessly slipped his hand around her's, squeezing it in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Her crimson eyes briefly met his dark blue orbs, wordlessly communicating her appreciation in that quick glance. The duo left Riesevelt in companionable silence, headed for wherever the road may take them.

Bandit camp, evening

The bandit queen laughed haughtily as she observed her newest prize-the redheaded girl who had slain so many of her men. Oh yes, she had big plans for her, for only a fool wouldn't recognize the favored lieutenant of prince Max, one Noin of Simsilt.

She would remain mostly unharmed for now, for the bandit queen's latest intel reported that the the now former queen, and her bodyguard, the hero of the Revolution would be passing through the region soon. What better way to make demands from the new king than to have several high-value hostages?

Yes, the trap was set. Now she would wait until those two fools rushed in to save their comrade.

End here

I decided to try something new by jumping around the pov's.

And yes, this is a setup for later. Noin will come into the fold within time.