Chapter 7: New Faces

Camp of the Falcon, Later that Night

Guts lay in a tent that had been set aside for him and Daniel, stewing over what had happened earlier that day silently for a moment before he looked over at Daniel, who sat calmly looking back at him. "You didn't have to get involved in that. That was my fight."

The words had been said, in one way or another, more than a few times before earlier in the day. Daniel sighed quietly. "It may have been your fight, Guts, I'll give you that. But however that turned out, it wasn't going to affect just you. I made a promise to your mother. I'm going to keep an eye on you for as long as I'm able to. And that means if you go galavanting off with the Falcons, then I do as well."

Guts looked away as he heard Daniel shift position. "Think about your actions for a moment. How they will affect those around you. If you do that… you spare yourself lifetimes of pain."

Guts sighed quietly. "How many times have you said something like that already?"

"Hopefully enough for it to stick permanently." He was sure that Daniel was giving his back a meaningful glare like the ones he'd seen so much on the man's face growing up.

It was silent again for long moments before Daniel chuckled. "Now that Griffith's our commanding officer, I do hope you don't have any more plans to try and stick your sword into him."

Guts scoffed. "Like I'd be able to. The man's good at using a sword. Better than even you expected, based on what you told me."

"Yeah. That he is." Daniel paused. "But he's just a man. And no man can stay undefeated forever. Many try, some succeed for a while… but in the end, you can't outrun reality."

Daniel scoffed after a moment's silence, shuffling around as he got to his cot, then paused for a moment. "Hold on a minute, Guts. We've got guests outside the tent," he said in a whisper, causing Guts to sit up despite the pain flaring in his chest.

"Stay there. I'll go check it out." Daniel said, and Guts saw him slowly unsheathe his sword, careful to not make much sound.

"The hell I will. You remember that guy who had it out for us." Guts stood, grabbing his own sword from the center post of the tent.

"I do. And the fact that he has friends who are in much better shape than you are right now." Daniel stood at the tent flap, bared sword in hand with his open hand raised toward Guts to keep him back.

Before either of them could move much from where they were, they heard another voice, clear and hard. "That's far enough. Even if he's wounded, he's not someone to trifle with. And that's before you get past his father."

They stood still for a moment as Casca continued. "Get back to your tents. If you do, I can overlook this."

They heard more than a few of their whispering ne'er-do-wells chuckle uneasily and walk away. One voice was not happy with that fact. "What're you guys doing? Get back here!" Corkus said, his still urgent voice lowered so as not to wake the rest of the camp.

His efforts to recall the men who were apparently with him seemed to fail, though, as the muttering of the other voices grew quiet, then silent, leaving Guts and Daniel still for a moment as they waited for Casca or Corkus to go on.

Finally, Corkus scoffed. "You seem real hell-bent on taking that bastard's side, huh? I mean, you've got to have a grudge against him, right? Surely you didn't forget that he killed Dante?" a pause. "Or did something happen when you had to act like a whore for him for two nights straight?"

They heard, quite clearly, the scrape of a blade exiting its scabbard, and things went quiet again. "You say that again, and the only part of this I take to Griffith is going to be your head."

Silence again, then a scoff. "Fine. I was tired anyway. Wasn't like it was going to be much more than a joke hazing…"

They heard the man storm off, and Guts hung his sword back on the post before walking past Daniel out into the night. In the light of the campfires that still burned, he saw Casca still turning away, pausing to meet his gaze. She looked at him for a moment, and her gaze… softened, somehow. "How are your wounds?" she asked.

Guts blinked, somewhat taken aback by this change in temperament. "They're what they are," he said with as much of a shrug as he could muster. "They'll heal, and then I'll be useful to this band."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "That's two I owe you now. I'll start by saying thanks and see where it goes from there."

Casca rolled her eyes. "If we're being technical, it's just one. I was and still am mostly acting on Griffith's orders. And for the record…" she paused for a moment. "I'm still not sure how good you really are. Anyone can just get lucky, after all."

The two regarded each other silently for a moment before Casca nodded. "But Daniel told me your story while you were out of it. You've had a hell of a time, living like you have. So… we'll just have to wait and see how good you are, won't we?"

With that, Casca fully turned and walked away, Guts looking on as she made her way elsewhere in the camp. Guts looked over as he heard the rustle of the tent flap, seeing Daniel emerge into the night air. "Y'know, I don't recall giving you permission to air out the story of my life." Guts said.

Daniel looked over at him with a slight smile. "It was going to be a long, awkward night otherwise. She wasn't going to leave the tent at my behest, and you were in no position to argue either. Besides, I didn't embellish anything. At least that much."

The smile disappeared. "And I didn't tell her anything that I'm sure you wouldn't have wanted to say yourself. I can promise that."

Guts nodded slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Of course, Guts."

"Alright," Daniel said after a moment's silence looking up at the stars. "Let's get you some rest. Those wounds are going to take their sweet time otherwise."

As they bedded down for the night, Guts considered his sword hanging on the post. He'd started to sleep with it after leaving the Thunderbolts. It allowed them to be ready in case someone decided to try anything on the road. He considered sleeping with it again, as to keep away anyone who managed to have second thoughts concerning Casca's warning. But, for now… he trusted Daniel would make such measures unnecessary.

Thus, he drifted off to sleep, wondering what the future held in store for him.

. . .

Town of Meryn, Midland, 2 Weeks Later

The sun had fallen below the horizon, and the stars glittered in the sky once more, countless celestial eyes looking down at the castle that sat against a river, a fortified bridge with a gatehouse crossing it, and the company that gathered in front of it, looking out into the dark forest like falcons perched over a hunting ground.

Their leader, Griffith, turned to face them. "Gentlemen," he said over the growing breeze, "the enemy force lies on top of a low hill in the center of this forest, 2,000 strong. We're not here to face them in open combat. We're going raiding through their back line and burning their supplies, getting to their camp via a roundabout along the river before making our way back here through the center of their camp."

"Where's our support?" one of the soldiers asked.

"There will be none. I was told that there would be no one to spare in case of a surprise attack."

A chuckle rippled through the gathered soldiers. "Cowards." more than a few scoffed.

Guts, armored and mounted up next to Daniel, found the whole exchange… surreal. 'They really do trust this guy to lead them into the jaws of certain death, don't they?' he mused. 'With their record of winning, can I really blame them?'

Griffith scanned through the crowd, walking his horse forward slightly, silent for a moment until he seemed to make his decision. "Guts and Daniel will be the rear guard for this mission."

More than a few shocked murmurs came with several looking over at the pair, who seemed mostly stoic to the duty as Griffith continued. "It'll be quite dangerous. You'll have to protect the rest of us from pursuit, likely by several hundred Tudor horsemen. There's a good chance that you two might die."

"It's a chance we're familiar with, Commander," Daniel replied. "We'll do our best."

"Besides," Guts interjected, "an order's an order, right?"

Griffith nodded silently, and Guts could hear the men around him. "What's Griffith trying to do?" one asked another. "Bet he's just testing them." the other replied. "Shame if they bite the dust. It's a lot to ask two people."

Through the crowd of doubters, Guts spotted Casca looking back at him, silent in her curiosity even as her brow still furrowed.

'It may be dangerous,' he never heard her think, 'but it's as important an order as Griffith can give. How does he trust them so easily? Or does he just trust one of them?'

There was little time to ponder on that, however, as they began to move out of the slowly opening gate, toward their target.

. . .

Guts was rather unpleasantly surprised to dismount his horse at the bank of the river and step in, Daniel beside him and everyone still surrounding him as they forded their way, thankfully, downstream. The chill brought back memories from long ago, making a long-healed wound in his shoulder burn.

'I thought he said we were going along the river, not in it.' Guts griped as he pulled his horse along, taking care not to slip in the current. 'With how strong this current is, no one would expect someone to try and come this way.'

He looked over at Daniel, who looked straight ahead with the reins of Shadowdanse firmly in hand. Or, at least, he thought Daniel was, with how nearly he blended into the night, the breeze blowing into his face and sending clouds over the moon to block its light. 'And the wind also covers our noise. We'll even have the fires we light blowing into the camp as we go.'

Guts found himself… impressed. This maneuver, crazy as it sounded and, frankly, was, was planned out extremely well. 'Gotta be a reason for all these grunts to follow someone like him.'

They paused for a moment, then started forward again. As Guts and Daniel emerged on the bank, drying themselves off as best they could, they both saw the body of the enemy soldier that most stepped over, a throwing knife lodged in his neck.

Mounting up, they made their way through the forest, still quiet in their advance as they spread out into a broad line, torches lighting up and down the line. The lights of the camp glittered through the trunks of the trees, and Guts' heart began to beat faster and faster as that ever-familiar thrill of battle overtook him much at the same time as the Band of the Falcon burst from the treeline.

The night watchmen that had seen them coming turned and shouted, running back towards the camp ahead of the charge. "They're behind us! They're-"

He was cut off by the spear that was lodged in his throat as they charged on, their torches flying into the air with a command from Griffith as they began to cut their way to the front of the camp, towards escape, the gunpowder cooking off and shattering the air with a thunderous boom that only added to the chaos.

Guts found the task of cutting through whoever stood in their way trivially easy, sure that his other side was covered by Daniel as he chopped through limbs and heads of men and horses alike. As they went, Griffith's voice rose over the sounds of the sudden battle. "Don't let the enemy bog you down! Push through!"

On they went, sweeping through the camp as men roused from sleep simply added to the dead in short order, cut down by men far more prepared for battle than they as the Falcons raced onward. And with the front edge of the camp coming into sight, Griffith finally gave the order that Guts was waiting for. "Double file, into the woods! Back to camp!"

The column slowly formed, Griffith at its head as the men that hadn't been taken down by sheer numbers galloped into the forest, easily finding the long, broad path that led back to Castle Meryn. And, as ordered, Guts and Daniel found themselves at the rear, looking back every once in a while as the camp in flames faded out of sight, the trees covering them entirely as they crossed a bend in the road. The light of the flames still lit their way, however, and smoke, thick and dark, was evident as it passed a newly uncovered moon.

"That was…" he heard Daniel shout in the mad rush.

"Crazy!" Guts replied. "The smoothest ambush I've ever been a part of, I think!"
"You and me both!"

Then, they heard another wave of thunder begin to join their own, and Guts glanced back to see a column of enemy knights, in full armor and armed to the teeth, barrelling after them as the others in front of them gained more and more distance, disappearing from sight in short order. "Looks like we're up!" Guts shouted.

"Let's earn our keep!" Daniel shouted as he readied his swordspear, Guts lifting his massive sword off of his shoulder. "Try and trip the front up!"

It was a miracle that Guts heard Daniel over the noise as the lead knights reached them, swinging swords, spears, and maces at them as they blocked, Guts almost coming nose to nose with the lead knight as their blades slid off each other.

They clashed again and again, a running battle that ended with Guts' blade in the knight's neck before he slashed at the horse's flank, sending it tumbling into the oncoming tide of knights, the one Daniel engaged doing much the same in short order.

They made some distance from their foes to catch their breath for a moment as the knights untangled themselves from the mess of bodies in their way, wheeling to watch as one knight, then another began to make their way over the blockade. This, for the moment, suited them just fine as they began to fight again, their blows sending sparks flashing into the night as crossbow bolts flew past their heads.

The barrage forced the pair into motion again, the crowd of knights that they faced from behind their fellows increasing in number as they got past the roadblocks of bodies that Daniel and Guts had created. Now, it was an all-out race to the castle, neither Falcon caring much to try and score as many kills as possible as they simply tried to stay ahead of their pursuers.

The knights that managed to catch up to them were held off as best they could, Guts cutting one man's sword arm off before batting away an encroaching polearm. Then, his horse bucked, likely from some blade or bolt, and sent him tumbling to the ground, struggling up to face the oncoming knights.

"Guts!" he heard Daniel shout, and the men in front of him faltered for the briefest of moments as Daniel charged back toward them, sweeping his swordspear in long arcs as he came to a stop beside Guts. "Get up!"

Guts wasted little time climbing into the saddle behind Daniel, doing his best to cover Daniel's right as they turned and rushed away from Guts' dying mount and the knights that thundered over it.

They had to be close now. They'd been riding and fighting for what felt like ages, the dark trees that surrounded them blurring any sense of progress. But, coming around the bend toward them, Guts saw a sight that seemed extraordinary. Griffith, along with two other Falcons, one of them massive on his horse, leveled crossbows past them, both Daniel and Guts ducking as the men behind them tumbled to the ground once again.

"Follow us!" Griffith shouted, wheeling his white charger around as he tossed the crossbow aside, the other two Falcons falling in beside Guts and Daniel as they kept their flanks secure from the chasing force.

"Why'd you come back? We had it under control!" Guts shouted up to Griffith.

"Not now! We're almost to the edge!" was Griffith's only reply, the man focused on the light ahead of them as the path's opening grew closer and closer.

Then… they were out of the forest. "Scatter!" Griffith shouted as he turned to the right with one Falcon, the larger one leading Guts and Daniel left… out of the way of the wall of cannons, crossbows, and arquebuses. The knights floundered for the briefest of moments, which was all that they needed to do.

"Fire!" was the only word that Guts heard before they all lit up, a rolling thunder of cannon fire accentuated by the crackle of arquebus shots for the briefest of moments as their pursuers found themselves being torn apart by the withering fire.

The knights wavered, then broke, scattering back into the woods with no semblance of the unity that had made them into a crashing wave of steel. As they ran, a cheer went up among the collected soldiers behind the barricade of guns, and more than a few Falcons rushed out to meet Griffith as they rode back into the castle towards their camps.

. . .

Lord Fraser Hebert, master of Castle Meryn, looked down from a balcony in his keep at the camp down below, a raucous celebration in full swing even as the night wore on.

He couldn't fully blame them. They'd driven off the Tudor force and bought them time to await the reinforcements that were said to be coming within the month. But even still…

He heard one of his councilors approaching, and looked over at the man, bald and wearing his nightclothes, as he looked down with him at the Falcons. "If this is how they celebrate after a successful sneak attack," Hebert mused, "I can't help but wonder what a victory celebration would look like."

"I suppose it can't be helped." his counselor said with a shrug. "This was a major gain, after all."

As Hebert harrumphed, the counselor continued. "The scouts we sent out returned. The enemy camp is in full retreat. The siege is broken."

Hebert looked at his councilor with wide eyes. "All from a single raid?" he shook his head as he looked back down at the Falcons, and at Griffith in particular. The man sat amongst his men, enjoying a drink with them and engaging in conversation. Were it not for his striking appearance, he could have been any other soldier at that moment.

"He's a dreadful man, that one." his counselor said as he followed his lord's gaze. "He managed nearly all of this little operation personally. He may be young and lack any official backing, but his troops are loyal to him and the tactics he uses border on brilliance."

"Dreadful, indeed…" Hebert murmured, wondering at what ambitions the leader of the Band of the Falcon might have.

. . .

Daniel sat amongst the men of the Band, taking part in the merriment as men swapped stories about their experience in the night raid, particular kills that they'd witnessed or brought about, and relations to past victories. More than a few soldiers crowded around him, well aware of his reputation and how he'd acquired it.

Now, he found himself relating the story of his encounter with the Black Dogs, and his duel with Wyald. "I swear on my honor, he was absolutely massive. He could have easily been twice my height, and he wielded a club that looked like the trunk of a decently aged young tree like it was a feather-duster."

"Oh, please," Corkus said with a roll of his eyes. "Surely he couldn't have been that big. If he was as crazy as you say, and he was working for Midland, why haven't I seen him around, huh?"

"I actually might know something about that."

All eyes around them turned to another soldier. He was about as old as Corkus was, just barely breaking 20, with long black hair in a tail that sat above brown eyes that were… well, shaken was probably the closest word one could get to the expression.

"I had a cousin in a village near that battle. She managed to escape and tell me about what happened afterward, but those Black Dogs you were talking about… she swears up and down that they came through the village, burning and pillaging and raping until there wasn't a single stone standing on the other. The king and every other royal say that it was a surprise Tudor attack and that the Black Dogs were sent to the border to keep the enemy off Midland's breadbasket. But I know the truth."

It was quiet around them for a moment, and Daniel nodded toward the Falcon. "And what's your name? I can't say I've met you before."

"I'm Gaston, sir."

Daniel nodded. "I see. Well, I'm glad your cousin made it out alive, then. They're a brutal lot."

Gaston nodded, then looked around. "Say, where's that kid? Guts, right? He deserves some praise as much as the rest of us."

Daniel scanned the crowd, then the battlements. There, up on the wall, nestled in between two crenellations, Guts sat with his sword, looking up at the stars. "There he is. Up on the wall."

He stood. "I'll see if I can convince him to come down here with us."

He walked away from the noisy crowd, waving and smiling to his still somewhat new compatriots before climbing up the steps to the wall's top. Guts looked over at him as he approached, an arched brow his only reaction as Daniel stopped in front of him.

He regarded the boy silently for a moment, then looked up at the stars. "You're still not used to it, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Guts replied. It was a bald-faced lie, and Daniel knew it.

Daniel sighed quietly. "Look, I get that socializing is a far more… dicey prospect than just swinging your sword at the man in front of you. But, shockingly, for how short a time it's been…" he paused and shook his head. "You've got people who are concerned for you. For us. It's been a while since it's been like that."

It was silent between them again, then Guts looked over at Daniel. "You and I both know how this business works. Most of those men could be dead within a month. Even you could die any day from any battle. So… why waste the effort?"

Daniel nodded. "I know how you can think that. I've thought of it that way myself a time or two. But…" he leaned on one of the crenelations next to Guts and looked up again. "Think of it like these stars. They seem to last… forever, don't they?"

He saw Guts' brow furrow even as he nodded. "Yeah? What's your point?"

"They don't last forever, Guts." Daniel was quiet as he continued, a weight to his voice Guts had heard only a few times before. "In time, even the brightest of stars flicker out. And you will never see the world quite the same again if you're looking. But you'll never notice if you don't look up. So it is with people. You may not look past yourself, but the world is full of brilliance and beauty. And so much of that comes from the people you're surrounded by. They may come and go, but just like the night sky, if you notice them there, make them a part of your life… there's that much more to it, y'know?"

A moment of contemplation passed between them before Daniel chucked. "I may just be rambling now. Point is, people are good for you. Even if it hurts when they go."

They both heard another group coming up the stairs and turned to see Judeau, Rickert, and Pippin approaching. "I can see why you're up here," Judeau said. "It's a nice view. Nice and cool, too."

He stopped near the top of the stairs to lean on the floor of the wall-top. "Come down with us and grab a drink! Have some fun because of a successful mission."

Guts considered the invitation for a moment and shrugged. "I just did my job. Not much to get all bothered about."

Daniel watched silently as Rickert came fully up the stairs to stand in front of Guts. "I… I wanted to thank you, Guts. Sir."

Guts looked over at Rickert with some confusion as the boy continued. "My name's Rickert. You helped me get out of a scrape with a few Tudor knights when we were getting back here."

Daniel recalled the event after a moment, seeing the barely caught sight of Guts quite literally slapping a knight off his horse with his sword as he tried to get at the boy. 'He's more of a hero than he thinks.' he mused.

"I really respect you now," Rickert said. "Daniel really wasn't lying when he said you were good. I've only ever seen Griffith fight like that."

Guts looked over at Daniel. "He also likes to look at things in a little too good of a light sometimes too," he said somewhat archly before looking down at Judeau and Pippin. "Besides, like I said, I just did what I was ordered to do. Just like any of the rest of you, right?"

Rickert seemed, at least to Daniel… bemused by the man's words as Judeau shrugged. "Ah well. I guess we can leave it at that then." he made his way up the steps. "I'm Judeau, by the way. And we're not just here to meet and greet. Everyone's waiting for the other hero of the day to come down and really get things started."

Guts became confused. "What?"

"The party tonight's also to officially welcome you guys into the group. Daniel here has taken his fair share of meeting and greeting. We're all just waiting to get to meet you fully now." a bemused expression grew on Judeau's face. "Surely, you're not going to turn down some well-deserved goodwill."

Guts rolled his eyes. "No one asked you guys to do that. I certainly didn't."

Judeau sighed as he turned to Pippin. "Pippin?"

Pippin silently came up behind Judeau, paused for a moment, then put a frankly massive hand on Guts' arm.

Before Guts could shout, Daniel stepped forward, putting a hand on Pippin's arm. "I'd ask that you don't manhandle him. He's… touchy about people touching him without his consent."

Pippin looked over at Daniel for a moment, nodding silently as he let go of Guts.

Guts sighed quietly, quietly enough that only Daniel could catch it, and Daniel looked over at him. "Go on. Give it a try. Besides, it's at least a little good food and drinking to be had."

Guts was silent as he stood. "Alright, fine." he looked up at Pippin. "But you don't get to touch me again, alright big guy?"

Pippin nodded. "My name is Pippin, like Judeau said. Nice to meet you. Please don't be shy."

Guts sighed again as he looked over at Daniel. "You coming?"

Daniel smiled slightly. "I'll be along soon enough. Go. Have some fun."

Guts nodded slowly, then followed the trio down the steps. Daniel looked on as he saw Pippin grab a drink and press it into Guts' hand, several soldiers crowding around him and praising him. Eventually, he sat down with a group of men, Gaston among them, and began to talk. If Daniel looked hard enough… he could make out the beginnings of a smile on the boy's lips.
Daniel nodded, looking around the wall. Further to his right, at another point where a staircase led up to the wall-top, he found Casca sitting at the top of the steps, her sword sitting by her side. He ambled over to her, seeing her look over at him as he came close. "Mind if I take a seat next to you, or would you prefer to be left alone?" he asked.

Casca shrugged after a moment. "I suppose you can stay. One person isn't going to make this spot too much more crazy."

Daniel nodded as he took a seat next to her, looking out over the revelry and taking in the glow of the campfires, the sound of instruments and laughter and shouting, and the smell of rising smoke, cooked meat, and maybe a little much in the way of alcohol. "Thank you." he finally said softly after a moment.

Casca's brow furrowed as she looked over at him. "What for?"

"For helping Guts find some belonging here. The thanks don't purely belong to you, of course. You and Griffith and all the other Falcons have given us a home. Comrades. Both things we have been strangers to for years, now. Guts might not say as much now, but…" Daniel paused for a moment. "He's prone to thinking deeply before he says something he truly means. And those things he truly means will stay true forever. Or at least, they have thus far."

Casca nodded after some silence. "You're welcome, I guess. Griffith makes a point of letting us know that, at the end of the day… we're family. No matter where we came from, no matter where we go afterward. We're Falcons forever. Always able to turn to other Falcons. Always able to rely on him."

Daniel nodded, stifling memories of a future he was anxiously becoming more sure was becoming more and more certain. "A rare thing for many knighthoods, let alone a mercenary company," he said quietly.

They again sat in silence for a moment, looking at the Band of the Falcon and the night sky intermittently. "I noticed both of your reactions when Pippin grabbed him," Casca said quietly. "Is… is it really that bad?"

Daniel nodded silently, a dark look passing over him. "It has something to do with what Donovan did." was all he said.

Casca nodded in turn, a somber look on her face. "I see."

She hadn't asked Guts about Donovan yet, or really anything much about his past. Daniel would have known if she did. But, for now, he didn't press the issue. He simply looked on, taking the night and the celebration in and hoping that Guts would be able to find what he needed here.

. . .

As the sun rose on the next day, the rays of light touching Castle Meryn's walls along with the now mostly passed out revelers, its light also touched a silent Guts, having taken up his original space between the crenellations once again, as he looked out at the sun breaching over the forest.

There was something about sunrises now that he couldn't quite put his finger on as to why he watched them. Wherever he went, whatever the sun was rising over, he still took a moment and watched whenever he could. A battlefield, a forest, the top of a tower… it didn't matter. It somehow made it… peaceful.

He looked back over the camp, the fires all gone out now, as he remembered last night's celebrations. So much of it concerning… him. It was strange to feel like just one man's contribution mattered so much to so many people. After all, it was just a job… wasn't it?

He heard someone coming up the steps behind him, the sound of the steps pausing for a moment here and there as its creator passed over the passed-out forms of soldiers likely still sleeping on the stairs. "Well, you're up early."

It was… Judeau, his name was, coming up the top of the stairs with a wineskin in hand slung over his shoulder. "You must really like high places," he continued. "I don't ever think I've considered sitting in one of those."

Guts remained silent as Judeau hopped up on top of one of the crenelations he sat on and unstoppered the wineskin. "Want some?" he asked, waving the skin over to Guts, who waved him off.

He shrugged, taking a sip from the wineskin and appreciating the sunset for a moment before looking back at Guts. "So, what do you think of the Band of the Falcon now?"

"What do you mean?" Guts asked.

"Think you'll fit in when we're not all falling over each other drunk?"

Guts was silent for a moment as he pondered the question. "After only this long actually working with you… hard to say, really."

He noticed Judeau's tilted grin before he continued. "It's kind of weird, really. Most mercenary bands are the same old rogues and cutthroats with a good chunk of their lives wasted. But here, everyone's so young. It's… different, somehow."

He watched Judeau ponder his words, scratching his chin. "I mean, I guess." he shrugged before continuing. "But a little variety is good in everything, even mercenary groups. We've got escaped prisoners, blacksmith's sons, even some disgraced and unimportant nobility in the mix!" he chuckled.

"But…" he trailed off. "I think it's Griffith. Some of us, it's like we've been charmed by him. Put under some sort of spell. But we know that if we stick with him, we'll see great things. I mean, any one of us isn't really all that different from any other mercenary. But while we kill and burn and do all these things that mercenaries are expected to do… we don't become numb to it all. Living, I mean."

"Speaking of Griffith…" Guts said after a moment's silence. "You've been around him for a while, I'd guess. What kind of man is he like?"

Judeau considered the question for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "I don't really know."

Before Guts could comment on how ridiculous he found the response, he looked over to see Daniel walking up the stairs, two bows slung over one of his shoulders, quivers full of arrows hanging off his other. "Well, good morning Guts. Judeau," he said, seeming barely even fazed by whatever he might have drunk last night, if at all. "Care to join me?"

"For what?" Guts asked.

"I'm planning on hunting for breakfast. We had a good amount of food last night, and I'd hate to dig into our marching rations. So, we'll cook what we catch. Are you up for it?"

Guts looked over at Judeau, who shrugged. "Well, if you want to have me along, there's worse ways to sober up." he gave Guts a sly grin. "As long as you don't shoot me in the ass."

Guts sighed but nodded. "Sure. Some good food sounds like a decent way to wake up."

Daniel nodded in turn as he looked over at Judeau. "If you have a bow, then you'll have to go and grab it. These two are for Guts and I. We'll meet you by the main gate."

Judeau nodded as he hopped down from the crenelation, Guts extracting himself from his spot. "Sounds like a good way to start the day to me. See you both then."

With that, Judeau walked down the stairs back toward the camp. Guts, accepting his bow and quiver, walked with Daniel along the wall towards the gate.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Daniel looked over at him. "Good to see that you're making friends now," he said quietly.

Guts rolled his eyes. "Please. He seems more bent on befriending me than anything. Probably just trying to get on my good side."

Daniel nodded. "I see." the words were quieter still. "What were you two talking about before I interrupted?"

"We were starting to talk about Griffith. What kind of guy he's like."

Daniel nodded. "Well, I can give you the best guess I have of him based on what interactions I've had with him."

"Which are?" Guts arched a brow as they went down the steps toward the gatehouse.

"He's a man of extremes, not given much to viewing the world in simple black-and-white morality. Devoted to warmth for his men and an utter chill for his enemies. Or, at least those who stand in the way of his ambitions. He has a conviction that cannot be shaken. And because of those things, I'm glad we're on his side instead of across the battlefield from him."

Guts nodded as they came to a stop in front of the personal door to the gate. 'Conviction, huh?'

They waited there for several minutes until Judeau approached, bow slung over his shoulder. He was accompanied by another Falcon, one that was somewhat… harried.

"New kid." the man said with little preamble. "The boss wants to talk to you."

"We're on our way out to shake off the last of last night's alcohol and get some breakfast," Daniel replied with a slight smile. "He's more than welcome to join us if he wants. We can make an outing and a meal of it."

The soldier regarded Daniel silently with an odd look for a moment. "Well, I'll… let him know, I guess."

With that, he turned and made his way to the well, where Guts guessed Griffith was. After minutes more of waiting, Griffith approached, clothed but damp, with a short recurve bow slung over his shoulder. "Thank you for inviting me out to hunt," Griffith said to Daniel. "It's not something I get the chance to do much of."

Daniel nodded. "Thank you for joining us, sir. We'll go ahead and set off into the forest. Hopefully, any game we might have scared off last night decided to come back."

As he spoke, they all made their way out of the door, crossing the bridge into the open wilderness. Smoke from last night still sent wisps into the air, some connecting and dividing before connecting with others.

"Where shall we hunt today?" Griffith asked.

"As a wise man once said," Daniel replied, "in the direction of deer."

. . .

Daniel kept only somewhat ahead of the group, arrow held loosely in his free hand as he scanned the ground for tracks. It allowed him to catch the conversation that Guts and Griffith were having as they went, quiet so as to not scare off any potential food.

"Your work last night was impressive, Guts," Griffith said. "To have kept them off us for long enough to get a line of cannons set up is no small feat."

"I was just following orders, is all." Guts replied. "Besides, I had help, too."

"Even still. Your skill with a sword is unmatched, even with a weapon as big as you usually wield. If sir Daniel is your mentor… he has every right to be proud."

"How does a guy like him with his swordspear teach you how to use that big thing?" Judeau asked.

'Real glad-hander.' Daniel mused, tuning out Guts' reply as he paused, going forward a few more steps before he held up his hand, the others pausing in turn as he knelt. Tracks, made easy to spot by the dawn mist that soaked into the ground. A deer, decently sized if he had to guess by the width and the depth of the imprints.

"We have some potential here," Daniel said, his voice now barely above a whisper. "Follow me slowly."

As they continued their approach, it was silent for a few moments. "By the way," Guts said, the volume of his voice only barely above Daniel's, "I've been meaning to ask. What's that weird necklace you've got there?"

Daniel paused for a moment, trying to appear to divine where the tracks were heading, as Griffith replied. "This old thing? I bought it from a fortune teller years ago now. The Crimson Beherit, she called it. The Egg of the King."

Daniel stood straight, turning to look as Griffith held up the egg-shaped, nearly bright red stone that now hung around his neck, and even from here, Daniel was able to make out a closed eye, a mouth, and a prominent nose. "She said that whoever possesses this is destined to receive the world in exchange for his own flesh and blood."

Guts stepped forward, cupping the Beherit gently, turning it slightly to the side. As he did, the eye under the mouth opened, causing Guts to jump back with a barely stifled shout.

"What happened, Guts?" Judeau asked, looking back from Guts to Griffith in no small amount of confusion.

"The thing's eye…" Guts replied, somewhat dazed by shock. "It…"

"Yes," Griffith replied calmly, taking hold of the Beherit again. "When it does things like that, it's like it's almost alive."

The man, the boy as he had to remind himself, gave Guts an almost impish grin. "Neat, huh?"

"Maybe so," Daniel finally said, drawing the attention of the other three. "But I've heard rumors about Beherits. Enough of them to give me pause."

"How so?" Griffith asked, his grin fading away as he regarded Daniel with a slightly cocked head.

"That not only do they take of your flesh and blood, they wait for your darkest, most desperate moment, and then tempt you with the power to save yourself… at the cost of sacrificing something, or someone, that you hold dear."

Silence, somewhat tense, hung over the group for a moment before Daniel turned back to the tracks. "Let's get a move on, shall we?"

They continued on their way, silent now, until Daniel spotted their target. A nice, large buck, with wide antlers that likely had at least 6 points. Maybe 8.

"Stay back," he whispered. "I'm going to flank around, get a clean shot. I'll call you over to me when I kill it."

Daniel moved off, picking his way through the trees and foliage at almost a crawling pace to make sure he didn't frighten the buck. After minutes that felt like hours, he found the place he needed to be in, just behind the deer's line of sight, downwind, with a good angle to strike its heart.

He slowly nocked his arrow, drawing back the bowstring without a sound as he took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, the slight swaying of his arrow tip slowing, then stopping as he fully released his breath.

At the moment that he loosed his arrow, a crack of breaking branches rang out, and the buck bolted, the arrow striking it in its flank as Daniel swore quietly.

It was out of sight in moments, and Daniel shook his head as he straightened up and made his way back to Guts, Griffith, and Judeau. "Well, it's a proper chase now," he began as he came to a stop in front of them. "I'll go off and get this thing on my own. I have no intention of keeping any of you from any business you might have back at the castle. Especially you, sir Griffith."

"Well," Judeau sighed with a shrug as the others nodded, "there goes breakfast, I guess."

Daniel smiled slightly. "That just means it'll be lunch instead. I'll see you later."

With that, he turned and began to follow the deer, glancing back to see the others leaving toward the castle.

More than a little time passed, the tracking made easier by the droplets of blood that spattered the leaves and the grass. He came out into the clearing where the enemy encampment once stood, much of the grass and ground still burnt from the night before. The buck had made its way through the clearing, and Daniel passed through into the other side of the forest.

Finally, as the sun began to close in on its noonday perch, he found the buck lying on its side, its energy now spent as it waited for the end.

He didn't bother hiding his approach, simply walking slowly as the deer squirmed and struggled, pulling out a sturdy dagger. "Sorry, my friend," he said quietly. "You simply got the short end of the stick."

He took a knee by its chest, placing the tip of the knife over the buck's heart and plunging it in, waiting for the buck to finally go still. "Go in peace," Daniel whispered.

"I see. We interrupted a hunt."

Daniel slid the knife out of the buck's chest as he whirled around to guard against…

He paused as he took in what, exactly, stood before him. It looked like a person. At least somewhat. A little taller than him and far thinner, the being seemed to be made entirely out of plants, its main body composed of a somewhat dark wood wrapped up in vines that connected the joints of its spindly body. Its arms ended in hands that had delicate, almost skeletal fingers that cupped a pointed chin that sat under what looked to be the most shaped portion of its body, a small stump of wood marred only by a slight nodule of a nose, a slit of a mouth, and slightly recessed pools for eyes that glowed a dim yellow. The crown of its head was almost a literal crown, from within which vines wrapped around the tines.

"What the hell…" Daniel finally said, shaking his head slightly. "Who are you?"

"We are the vessel Anaa'ri. You currently hear the voice of the Prime of the Vessel. I am Rhia."

The voice that spoke, slightly echoing, was feminine, though Daniel thought he heard other pitches and tones, subtle and underneath the surface.

"What kind of vessel are you?" Daniel asked as he slowly began to turn back to the deer's corpse. "Vessel's a terribly broad term."

"Anaa'ri is a vessel with several hundred souls aboard," Rhia replied. "We have traveled far, across many worlds, to come here."

"I see," Daniel replied as he turned the majority of his focus back to the deer, beginning the involved task of field dressing it. "What has you traveling so far from home?"

"Anaa'ri is an exploratory vessel," Rhia said before pausing for a moment. "It is also a refugee carrier."

Daniel looked back as he tossed away the scraps of his initial cut. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you're able to find someplace for them to stay."

"It will not be hard," Rhia said, Anaa'ri looking around at the trees that surrounded them. "The forests were our communities, the wood and leaves our homes. Few places do not have such a thing as trees."

"I'd be careful putting anyone in these trees," Daniel said as he continued his rather gory work. "If you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a war. These trees could easily be cut down and turned into fortifications or siege weapons."

"We understand," Rhia said solemnly. "War took our world as well. As far as we can tell, we and all we carried beforehand are the last survivors."

It was silent again for a moment as Daniel continued to remove organs from the deer carcass. "You seem quite at ease with meeting something such as us," Rhia said.

Daniel shrugged before cutting through the diaphragm. "You're lucky it was just me. I'm used to meeting beings like yourselves. Anyone else on this world would probably run screaming from you thinking you were a monster. Things that look as inhuman as you do are rare. More often than not, they're also dangerous."

"I see," Rhia said quietly.

Daniel continued his work, glancing back at the almost elven figure behind him as he fully removed the rest of the organs, leaving him with a prepared carcass.

"You seem…" Rhia began as Daniel stood. "Familiar."

Daniel froze in place, a chill slowly creeping down his spine as the word seemed to sink into him. "Is that so?" he said quietly. With as many memories as that… thing had left him with when they parted, he was more afraid of what he didn't remember.

Anaa'ri was silent behind him for what felt like an eternity. "There are many worlds." Rhia finally said. "You may have the simple misfortune of sharing the face of the being that destroyed our world."

'Somehow,' Daniel thought as he picked up the carcass, 'I doubt that.'

But that was a concern for another time right now. Right now, he had to wash off this deer, and his arms. "That would be unfortunate, wouldn't it?" Daniel said to Anaa'ri as he passed them, a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes on his face as he made his way toward the river.

As he walked across the field, he heard the deceptively light footsteps of Anaa'ri behind him. "We have decided," Rhia said, her voice firm and resolute, "that we will be following you, just to be sure. There are few people who look like the Destroyer as much as you."

Daniel nodded. "I see. But I am a part of a mercenary band. If you're going to be following me around, you're going to need a disguise, and likely the martial skills to keep up with us."

"A disguise is quite easy," Rhia replied. "And Ulika can provide the martial skills Anaa'ri needs to keep up in battle."

"Ulikam?" Daniel asked as they arrived at the river bank. "Is that a… crewmember?"

"He is one of the Awakened, yes," Rhia replied as Daniel knelt and washed off his arms. "I will introduce you to the others after we settle on an appropriate disguise."

Daniel let the elf-tree-thing do what it had said as he washed off the last of the blood from his arms, turning to wash off the deer to ensure that any mud and blood wouldn't contaminate the meat. He'd managed to spare the tenderloins, a good feast for the day…

"We are ready."

The voice was clear, no echoing to be heard as Daniel looked back to see a young woman who, as he stood to regard her, was a little taller than him and rather toned beneath the simple robes and pants that she wore, black hair falling around somewhat pale skin and framing deep green eyes.

"I see," Daniel replied as he took up the now clean deer. "Is this the look of someone you knew?"

"The first human we met who was not a threat to us." a stern, male voice replied, entirely out of place coming from what were now actual lips.

Daniel, taken aback somewhat, stumbled slightly as they continued down the path back to the castle. "Ulikam, I presume?"

"Yes," Rhia replied. "He is our War Master. Nimira is our High Scholar…"

Rhia paused for a moment, and another voice, also female but of a deeper timbre, spoke. "Well met, sir. As my compatriots have forgotten to ask, what is your name?"

"Oh. It's Daniel."

"Again, well met. I hope we speak further."

Rhia returned. "And our Memory Seer is Firathi."

Another pause, and a voice that Daniel could not make out if it was male or female, monotone, spoke through Anaa'ri's mouth. "Greetings. You will be remembered."

It was silent between the two of them for a moment as Daniel waited for a response, Rhia returning with a dry chuckle. "My apologies. Firathi isn't one for long conversations without a given topic in mind."

Daniel nodded. "I'll take note of that."

He paused as he thought for a moment. "So, would you rather be Anna or Rhia?"

Anaa'ri blinked. "What do you mean?" Rhia asked.

"Well, Anaa'ri isn't exactly a common name here." Daniel began. "Or really a name at all. If I'm going to introduce you, I'll need something somewhat normal-sounding to call you."

Rhia was silent as the personalities within Anaa'ri seemed to deliberate. "I believe Anna will do. Do you need us to create an explanation?"

"No, I can do just fine on that front, Anna," Daniel replied. "Besides, a new member of the Band of the Falcon isn't anything to thumb your nose at, especially if you're able to prove yourself."

Daniel considered the situation he'd just gotten himself into as the castle gate came into sight. 'First one kid to take care of, then another. I hope I don't make too bad a habit of doing this. If I haven't already.' he chuckled softly at the thought.

"What's funny?" Rhia, Anna, asked.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just a strange little thought."

A part of him wondered how long he would continue saying that.