As the wind blew through his hair, sending it straight back, Mark looked down and considered the scene far, far below him. Lyn was riding Sain's horse, with Wil on the back. They were talking and getting to know each other better. The scene would have made Mark smile if not that right next to them, Kent rode his steed with Sain gently slumped over the back. Soon after their touching moment creating Lyndis's Legion, they left again towards Caelin. The problem was that, very soon after departing, Sain began to feel incredibly ill. Mark thought immediately about the bandit's brutal axe, and how it was covered in rust. Likely never washed, Sain was probably running several horrible diseases in his bloodstream. Having the most medicinal knowledge of the group, Mark gave him basic treatment, but the supplies were limited, and Mark didn't know enough to give any sort of proper diagnosis. Sain insisted he was fine, moments before slipping into unconsciousness. Now unable to ride his horse, Lyn stopped riding with Florina in order to take the reins of Sain's mount. Florina initially refused to ride with anyone but Lyn, which Lyn explained was due to an extreme fear of men, but she was now left with little choice. Thus, Mark awkwardly sat on the back of a pegasus, purple hair fluttering into his face, trying his damndest not to blush like an idiot. When he initially got on, Florina briefly stammered out something that Mark couldn't hear before turning back to him with the beginnings of tears in her eyes and taking off. Since the wind was so strong, Mark was too nervous to pull anything out of his coat pockets in order to read and pass the time. If he dropped it that would be the end. And so, Mark simply sat there, hands gripping the saddle in order not to fall to his death, wishing he could just move forward a bit to have more stability, but every time he tried, the pegasus would buck him to the back again and shoot him a dirty look.
To take his mind off of the awkwardness of the situation, Mark spent more time looking down than forward. Ok Mark. He thought. Normally, you'd read right now and take your mind off things but that's not going to happen this time. This time, you're going to make things better. Ok? You're going to talk to the pretty young lady sitting in front of you, and convince her that it's really not a big deal that the group is mostly men. A-and maybe, also, s-see if she wants t-t-t-to g-get some food together in the next town w-we stop at. As Mark completed this thought he put a hand to his heart to see that it was, in fact, beating faster than it had in a long while. Ok, easy there Mark. He thought to himself. When your own thoughts begin to stammer, that's not a good thing. That is a sign to NOT do whatever you just thought. Just… just let it be. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly… and then out slowly… then in… out… in… She's incredibly attractive. Mark's eyes shot open and he slapped himself, causing Florina to jump a little and whimper. Mark started to say something but stopped himself. Dear gods you're an idiot. He thought to himself disheartedly. To say that Mark had never had romantic feelings for someone on this level before would be untrue. There were many women in the court that caught his eye, two of which he had even been with for relatively long periods of time. But, as he grew up, he realized these things were merely more like children playing than actual heartfelt relations. Such was the way of life for people like him. The fact that true relations didn't exist… well, it was partly why he left.
Now thinking about home, Mark looked up to see a setting sun. The purple haired beauty in front, contrasting with the bright white pegasus, made an excellent foreground to the painting. Far, far below, his comrades, small as mere specks added tiny patches of collar to the mostly barren, brown landscape. Without realizing it, Mark began to tear up. Despite his rage, Mark still loved his father, and the biggest aspect he associated with him was his paintings. Mark's father had an eye for crafting exquisite masterpieces on his canvases, a talent Mark always wanted to inherit. As he felt a few drops fly off the sides of his face, he imagined taking a brush in his hand and began to paint. Just as he laid the first stroke, Florina began to descend. This shocked Mark to the present, and he quickly sniffled away and cleaned his eyes. By the time he was done, they were on the ground.
Everyone had already gathered around Sain. Kent had a hand on Sain's forehead, a grim expression on his face, all focus. Mark commended Kent's ability to stay calm, however. Truly, Kent was the definition of stoic. Lyn was similar. After her brief cry earlier in the day, she had a newfound sort of glow to her that Mark had never felt from her before. She stood taller, looked forward with more purpose, and held more of a confident air. Mark assumed it was because she no longer felt like she was alone in the world. He was glad he could offer that to her. As he said that, Florina ran past him, making his heart flip, and hid behind Lyn, staring at Sain sadly.
"H-He's not dead, right?" She asked meekly. Kent shook his head.
"No. Not yet. But he's certainly not… well, regardless, we should rest for the night." Saying this, Kent took his hand away from Sain and put it over his eyes, gazing out over the land. His gaze settled on an abandoned fort a little ways away. "There." he said, turning back to everyone, "That should provide sufficient shelter for the night. We will not reach another town until tomorrow evening. Mark, what are your orders?"
Mark blinked a few times and snapped to attention, pointing to himself. "I'm sorry, me? What do you want me to do?"
"Give orders for setting up camp." Kent repeated.
"Oh." Mark said. "Uhm… I'm more of a… battle tactician, I don't really have strategies for this sort of thing."
"Neither do we." Wil said, shrugging, "Which is why you're a better bet than any of us."
Kent nodded and elaborated, "When there were less of us this was unimportant. In addition, we had more supplies then. Now, however, with limited food and one man sick, direction would be appreciated."
Mark pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "Ok, I think I've got a rudimentary plan. Lyn has the only tent so she and Florina will set it up in the ruins. Kent and Wil, you'll survey the perimeter and check around the area for rogues. While you're doing this, look for anything we can eat, berries, rabbits, whatever. I'll tend to Sain and try to keep him under control." Mark snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah, see if you can find me some plants I can use to maybe ease his pain too."
"What do they look like?" Wil asked.
"I'm not really, sure, but I'd recognize them if you brought them, so just bring anything that looks like it could be of use." Mark answered. Everyone nodded and went their separate ways. Mark placed Sain on his horse and guided it into the old ruins. At this point it was fully dark, so Mark raised a lit hand to see better. After finding a few large sticks and setting them up like torches in one of the forts inner rooms, Mark got to work on Sain. The wound on his side was sealed, but it had a nasty rash surrounding it. His veins were clearly visible, almost popping out of his flesh outward from the wound for a few inches. Mark's heart sank at the sight. Sain's forehead was burning up, so Mark sripped him from his armor and layed it beside him. Sain's jaw was clenched shut, his teeth grinding in the pain, his eyes closed tightly. Unsure entirely what to do, Mark pulled out a rare book of his that he usually would never use. It's rarity was great, and anytime a spell was used from it, that page would be destroyed. However if there was a time to use it, it was now. He flipped through it to find a good spell, raised his hand up and started to chat a spell under his breath. He slowly placed his hand on the wound as he finished. Soon, it was encased in ice. Steam rose off of it momentarily before finally, the ice won out and set. Since the veins were clearly visible, Mark saw the blood flow slow from the wound. As it did, the page from the book froze in his hands and shattered like glass, crashing to the floor. Hopefully, however, the ice would keep the diseases from spreading faster, he prayed.
"Excuse me." He heard a meek voice say behind him. He looked up immediately, his heart fluttering for a moment. The voice did not belong to who he hoped it might, however. Instead, a very plain looking woman was leaning against the wall, wearing clothes akin to lower class citizens and with long brown hair tied in a braid. She limped over to him.
"Who are you?" Mark asked cautiously, standing. "Did you do something to my friends? They should be outside."
The woman's eyes opened wide and she shook her head vehemently. "No, no, they let me in, I swear!" She held up her hands in surrender. "My name is Natalie. I'm from a village a long way away from here, near Bern. I am searching for my husband. Your friends say you travel around a lot. Have you seen him?" She limped over to Mark and handed him a piece of parchment from her sleeve. It was a well made portrait, likely drawn by a professional, which surprised Mark. This woman didn't look like she had the money for such a thing. The man was rugged, with a very firm jawline and a somewhat large nose. He looked complacent, almost bored. Mark had never met him.
"I am sorry. I've never seen that man in my life." Mark handed back the portrait. Natalie nodded and sat down on the floor. "You appear to be limping. Is something wrong with your leg?" Mark asked, trying to get a look look at it.
"Yes, I was accidently cut when our village was raided many years ago." She said sadly. "The cut got infected and I eventually lost all feeling in the lower half of my leg. That's why my husband left, to earn the money for a treatment. We don't even know if such a treatment exists but…" She trailed off and smiled to herself. "Well Dorcas is never one to give up. I told him it was ok, that as long as I had him we could endure but he couldn't stand to see my limp and do nothing about it. That is why I must find him, before his desire to heal me winds up making him do something stupid." Natalie finished her sentence on the brink of tears. Mark turned to Sain, a sense of dread overtaking him. What Natalie just described happening to her leg seemed eerily similar to what Sain was going through. If left alone, would Sain be paralyzed from the waist down… forever? The thought made Marks skin crawl.
What made his skin crawl even more though was the thought of how much he lost control over the last fight, which is was got Sain injured like this in the first place. Lyn ignored his plan of a signal and charged in unannounced. Sain, similarly, refused to back down when ordered too, leading to his current state. Even though it saved Sain's life in the end, Wil was supposed to stay on the roof until ordered down from it. Everyone said they trusted Mark's judgements, but if they didn't follow them then do they truly believe in him? The thought put unease in the pit of his stomach. It's the job of a tactician to keep his soldiers in line and order, and now one of them was dying in front of him. Mark balled his fists in anger as his feeling of helplessness rose. If everyone had just listened to him none of this would have happened! As this last thought entered his mind, he heard footsteps approach. Wil barged into the room.
"Hey, Mark, we need you out front!" Wil shouted as he entered. He had his bow in his hands, three arrows already on the bowstring. "As Kent and I got back from our search we saw a group of raiders closing in on us. They seem organized, mercenaries probably. Everyone is readying the defences. Come on!" Wil ran out of the room. Mark calmly stood up and dusted off his coat. He turned to Natalie.
"It will be dangerous to go out of this room. Stay in here. Please, if you can, tend to my friend in the meanwhile. I will return when this is over." Natalie nodded at these words, and Mark turned and left.
"Kill them all!" Mark heard as he met with everyone at the front entrance. The sound came a short ways away from the fort, and was followed by a battle cry from what sounded like thirty men. Mark gulped. Even with their additions, this was going to be a difficult fight.
"Mark!" Kent said, jogging up to him, spear in hand. "We are ready for your orders. Please, hurry!" He shot a glance behind where he ran up from before turning back. "There are a lot of them, they are all using axes. Our mounts are all in the back of the fort, we have no time to reach them. There are two entrances to the fort itself, one from the east, one from the south. We are standing in the one from the south." Kent gestured around. As he did, a heavy crash resounded throughout the hall as an axe started to cleave through the wall to the west. Mark's brain went into overdrive, and his worries dissipated from his mind. All that remained was the unquenchable desire for victory. Quickly, he grabbed Florina by the arm and looked her dead in the eye. She whimpered at his sudden movement but held eye contact out of fear.
"Florina." He said. "West wall. Your thin lance can keep them from getting through. Use the holes they create and immediately stab through them as they're made. You'll be able to hold them off for a long time if you act quickly enough. Good luck." Without another thought, her let go and turned to Wil, gripping onto his wrist and staring him down too. "Wil." He said. Wil gulped and a few beads of sweat fell down his face. "You're going to go two rooms into the fort. There is a section of roof that is collapsed. That's your access point onto the roof. Just like yesterday, your orders are to rain hell. Go." He gave him a light shove in the direction he needed to go and Wil took off like a shot. Mark turned to Lyn and Kent. He grabbed them each by the shoulder. "Lyn. Kent. Front entrance. Kent, use a sword. It's better for dueling axe wielders."
Kent, eyebrow raised by Mark's sudden ferocity, retaliated. "Surely this spear is the better option right now. The distance it provides will be essential for-"
"Kent." Mark said again, staring him down and gritting his teeth. "Use. A. Sword. It's an order." Kent and Lyn were shocked into silence by Mark's aggression. They glanced at eachother before each turning to mark and silently nodding. Mark patted their shoulders and let them go, walking past them towards the eastern entrance. He pulled out his sword and lit it on fire to illuminate his path. He grabbed his fire tome out of his coat with his left hand and slowly walked the corridor. Once he got to the entrance, he was greeted by several brutes.
That intensity was necessary to insure orders were followed. Mark assured himself. They will not hate you for giving them the orders they asked you to give. It was essential this time, that his orders were followed. Without being able to monitor them, he would not be able to act if trouble arose. Therefore, there was no room for error. Orders HAD to be followed if the battle was to be won. Mark snapped back to attention as an axe was falling directly towards his chest. He deftly sidestepped, giving a light slash across the arm that set the raider's shirt of fire. Surprised and alarmed, the raider stopped everything he was doing to try and put the fire out, running away from the fort in terror. The next two to come at him both swung horizontally at either side. Mark ducked under the swings, looking into his tome to chant the proper words. The book automatically opened to the right page, and Mark said the incantation. As he did, fire erupted from his body in every direction, creating a small crater in the ground and blasting the two men backwards around forty feet. Mark stood up and continued his advance, stabbing his sword into the next man's gut as he stood in awe from the explosion that just occurred. The man gasped and stumbled back, arms over his gut as he fell to the ground in pain. The last man eyed him with caution.
"I don't want to fight you." The man said. His voice was deep. He had on a red cap and had a hand axe strapped to his leg. In his hand was a massive, well kept axe that had obviously seen a lot of action. The man was rugged, with a very firm jawline and a somewhat large nose. He looked complacent, almost bored.
"That didn't stop you from attacking this fort." Mark said, raising his sword at the man accusingly. The man frowned.
"Yeah, you've got a point there." He scratched at the stubble on his chin. "But I've got to do this. I don't like killin' but these guys are paying good money for the head of some woman named Lyndis." He hefted his axe into a fighting position and sighed. "It would break poor Natalie's heart to see this, but sorry kid, you're gonna have to die."
Mark's eyes opened wide with realization, but before he could say anything, the axe came down. Mark jumped backwards, stumbling on the landing as the massive axe dug to the hilt into the ground where Mark was just standing. Regardless the man, who Mark now realized was Dorcas, pulled it back out with ease, swinging at Mark again, this time from the side. Mark was so flabbergasted at who he was fighting that he almost just let it hit him. At the last second, Mark ducked under it, lit his hand on fire, and punched Dorcus in the gut, making him take a step back. Dorcas took his step, pivoted on it, and swung again, grazing Mark on the forearm. Mark dropped his sword reflexively, and before he could get to it, Dorcas stamped his foot on it, putting out the fire. Mark tossed his tome into his coat and lit his hands on fire, raising them in a fighting stance. Dorcas hefted his axe onto his shoulder and sighed.
"And here I thought the fire was over." He said sadly.
"W-Wait, listen to me-" Mark didn't get to finished as he rolled out of the way from another massive swing. When he looked back, Dorcas was already on him again, bringing down the axe. This time, Mark only stepped back slightly. The axe barely missed him, buried back into the dirt. Mark quickly grabbed the handle between Dorcas's hand and the blade, heating it up. Dorcas cried out, taking a few steps back and gripping his hand. He quickly regained his composure and grabbed his handaxe. He threw it at Mark, grazing his shoulder. Mark shouted in pain, put out his hands, and gripped his shoulder. He stepped back a few feet and picked up the handaxe. Dorcas grabbed his main axe out of the ground and the two charged each other. Mark was no match for Dorcas's raw strength however, and it soon became evident that he wouldn't be able to keep up with this fight. Instead, he threw the axe at Dorcas, who dodged easily, and quickly closed the distance between them. He placed a hand around Dorcas's neck and began to heat it up. Dorcas gulped, sighed, and dropped his weapon raising his hands.
"Got me." He said sadly. "That was an excellent fight kid, you got some damn fine skill. Can you do me a favor though? I won't attack you guys anymore, so could you find it in you to let me go? I've got a wife I gotta care for. Have a heart." Mark, panting, removed his hand from Dorcas's neck, rubbed his sleeve to his face to clean up some of the ash from his antics, and extended his hand to Dorcas. Dorcas looked at him confused, but took it.
"I can do you one better." Mark said, smiling at the fact he actually managed to live through this encounter. "I can take you to her right now. She's inside." In that moment, the look on Dorcas's face, a mix of shame and happiness, was enough of a payment for Mark not to be mad at the guy for trying to kill him.
A/N: Hey yall. I did this in a few hours while I'm on a short break. There will be another chapter some point in December, but not before then unless I'm REALLY good at school, which might happen who knows. Anyways, things in school are entering finals mode, sort of, but enough that I need to start dealing with it you know? So no more stuff till Christmas break. Bear with me guys, sorry. And I'm sorry about the break between this chapter and last chapter, I got carried away being indoctrinated into some new video games and spent most of my free time doing that. But anyways, like I said, one more (Maybe two) chapters this year. Also Mark has leveled up! (I don't know how many of you care about this really, let me know) +1 Spd/Res. An ok level up, not great, not terrible, just alright. Anyways, I'll see you guys next time, around mid December (UNLESS I'M REALLY, REALLY GOOD AT SCHOOL.)
