((Sorry it took so long to get this one up, work got busy.))
Chapter V
The fog had long since lifted, night had settled, and the moon was just ending its trek across the sky, but the first thing that Jim was aware of as he started to come to was the burning pain from his hand. It wasn't a throb, or even remotely like the battle-wounds he had accumulated over time, it felt more like his hand was being held in a fire, and he couldn't quite jerk it out to keep the pain from spreading further.
His surroundings started to fade into focus, and he realized that the field he remembered being in last was no longer where he was. A rough lean-to was sheltering him, trees filled the view outside, and though he was still lying on the ground, his armor had been removed and in its place, acting as a blanket of sorts, was a heavy black travel-cloak. His hand, when he finally looked, was wrapped professionally in a clean set of bandages. He left them on, rather than trying to see just what the cause of all the pain was. Someone had gone through the trouble, no sense in messing it all up.
The initial pain started to ebb, and Jim pushed himself up to stretch and take stock of his surroundings. His sword was nearby, propped against the main support for the lean-to, and while there were signs of a small campfire outside, he couldn't see signs of anyone else having even been in the area. Strapping on his sword, he made his way towards the campfire and started nursing it back to life.
Only human.
The fire flared up without much in the way of warning, startling the knight and sending him falling back off-balance. Seated, he watched the flames flicker. The battlefield was lost in some hazed part of his mind. He remembered the massacre, his men dying, the fire, the pain, the dragon. Certain things, though, were lost, including his survival. The dragon should have killed him, but he was here, alive, with nothing in the way of a major injury to show for it. All he had to show for the battle was his regiment, dead.
"You act as though you've never seen fire before, Knight."
Again, the knight was startled. He reached for his blade, but the chuckle that resulted from his being on edge, rather than outright retaliation, saw that the blade never left the sheath. Jim found himself looking at a man, somewhat aged in years. Straight, wiry white hair hung down to his shoulders, tied back to keep it in place, though a few long strands hung down and partially covered ice-blue eyes. Jim hardly needed to see the black robes to know that it was a mage, nor did he need to see the seal of Thakisis that was worn as a brooch to know where the mage's allegiance lay. But still, neither he, nor the mage, lashed out at each other.
"You've finally awoken. I was wondering how long it would be, or if I'd have to leave you behind." The mage made his way to the fire and took a seat. "You are fortunate, Knight. Thakisis smiles upon you, though for reasons I cannot quite understand. You should, all said and done, be dead."
"I'm aware of that. Why am I here now, alive? You could have killed me at any time."
"Your hand, Knight, have you seen it?" The mage set about making some tea, offering a mug over to Jim, who declined. "Take it, it will ease the pain when you drink it."
Jim sighed and obliged, taking the offered mug and smelling the crushed leaves that were inside. It was, as he suspected, awful, and would probably end up being a rather bitter drink. "So, what's so special about my hand?"
"You, for reasons that again escape my comprehension, bear the mark of Thakisis. She's protecting you. Rest assured, under different circumstances, I'd have killed you by now."
"And what keeps me from killing you right now?"
The mage chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Your pitiful sense of honor, Knight. I have not threatened you, nor have I harmed you in any way. What reason, other than a symbol of my affiliation, have you to take up arms against me?"
Jim was silent for a while before he finally voiced the one thought that was hanging in his mind. "Damn you and your logic."
The mage laughed and started pouring the water for the tea into the knight's mug. "A sound conclusion, I'll give you that much. Now, drink up. It will help with the pain." He poured his own tea and took a light sip. "And, just so you do not end up using all of your witty names and insults when referring to me, you can call me Xodius."
"Interesting name, where does it come from?"
"The guild I am a part of assigned it to me. All of us carry names that are given to us, we never use our true names." Xodius took a sip of his tea and seemed to relax.
Assuming that, if it was safe for the mage, it was safe for him, Jim took a sip of the tea and blanched. It was the most bitter tasting drink he'd ever had. Setting the cup aside, he let his focus return to the black-robed mage.
"So, what happens now, Xodius?"
"Well, Knight, you are to come with me. I cannot force you, of course, though I can strongly urge that you listen to me. Otherwise, Thakisis might lose favor with you. If that happens, then I will kill you."
"You sound like you want that to happen."
Xodius offered a wry smirk. "My dear Knight, nothing pleases me more than disposing of the pitiful creatures that are a nuisance to my Queen. Now, finish your drink, take up your blade, and we'll be off. I only hope that you can manage to keep up. I've lost far too much time letting you rest, I do not plan on losing any more."
"So," Jim clasped his arms behind his back, "I'm a prisoner then?"
"Far from it, Knight," Xodius rasped. "You are a tool. As I've said, for reasons beyond my understanding, Thakisis finds favor in you. She spared your life, as she saw fit, so it may just be in your best interest to listen to her. Do as she wills, otherwise you can be just like every other useless tool out there and be cast aside to rust away.
"As far as I see it, Knight, you can follow me to the Valley where Armageddon carries out Thakisis' will. There, I am certain, all things will be made clear to you. Or, you can decide that this was nothing more than pure circumstance and be on your way. It is entirely your choice."
The mage snorted softly and gathered up his belongings, pouring the leftover tea onto the fire. A faint muttered spell doused the flames and he tugged the hood of his robes over his head as he started off northwards through the woods.
Jim watched him for a few moments, a brief glance going to his hand, then back to the mage. It was common sense, from here, where things stood. He turned his back to the mage and started to walk the other way, back towards where his own allies would be amassing a front against the onslaught of the enemy forces.
He had gone quite a ways before a soft laugh hit his ears, and he turned, expecting to see the mage trailing him. Nothing but woodlands stood behind him, but still he could hear the familiar voice.
Remember one thing, Knight. Fate has a way of catching up to us. The Queen is not yet through with you.
"Get out of my head, Mage," Jim snarled, gripping his blade for simple reassurance.
Minutes passed, but nothing further came from the voice. Turning, he continued on his way. He had a war to fight. Petty things such as fate could wait for another time.