PART IV

Idee' Fixe

Two winters passed.

West of the village right by the sea was where Evelyn's parents and her fellow neighbors were long laid to rest. And here she was, same old bronze sword in hand.

In a wide, grassy field, metal bounced off metal. Long, controlled breaths escaped her mouth, all the while attempting to ward off or at the very least ease the sore feeling growing fast in her wrists and in her arms. Evelyn had thought that she'd get used to parrying on a basic level during the first day of training, but her inexperienced mind was fooled.

"Not bad, Evelyn." her sparring partner said to her, a cheeky grin sprouting on his face. "But you have quite the ways to go before we move on. Best to learn from trial and error."

Through the tired and labored breaths, Evelyn mirrored his smile. "I'm not stopping until I get this right."

From a fair distance, Martha and Elijah stood in the distance, watching on with drained expressions. "How long has it been? An hour? We haven't eaten breakfast yet and she wants to start training again?" Martha complained.

"You know how badly she wants to master swordsmanship. Besides, you know we've done this before and no one dragged us out here. Could've stayed behind, ya know?"

Martha was silent for a moment. "Alright fine. I came out here to watch because I want to learn too. I want to know I can properly defend myself...and others...ya know, instead of that reckless move back in the forest." she half-joked, still a little sensitive on the topic of what transpired back then. "Don't want to be the black sheep on this one."

"Hey, you saved us. Good start enough. Maybe you and Evelyn would make good sparing partners again? I mean, the first time around was a bit...rough. But it'll be nothing compared to what the future could bring to us." Elijah punctuated his point with a light punch to her shoulder.

Letting a brief chuckle escape, she returned her gaze towards Evelyn and their long-ago savior as they sword-danced. "Heh, I don't want her to chop my head off."

"Good friends don't chop each others heads off."

The final pang of the evening rang out in a metallic echo through the clearing. Evelyn lowered her sword and caught her breath as the eye patched cat re-sheathed his own. "That is enough. For today at least." he said, walking past Evelyn who feigned her boost of energy.

"No, it's quite alright! I go another ten-"

"Training's over, missy. There's no need to overwork things. You must find balance within yourself and your ability. Only then can you easily grow faster from there. Things like this take proper patience...even after a year's worth of doing it. I've said this many times before."

"With this, Evelyn sighed in defeat. "Well, okay. So Mr. Eyepatch..."

"You know 'ta call me Isembard, missy. No need 'ta make my former injury a trademark."

Evelyn lowered her gaze in slight embarrassment, quickly straightening herself once more. "Um, sorry...so, Mr. Isembard. Who taught you your swordsmanship? Or really how to fight in general? Took me long enough to ask..."

Isembard chuckled, relishing in unexpectedly conjured up memories of days long passed by. "My father taught me, of course. And my mother some as well; but both more on the side of swordsmanship. I mostly taught myself the bow and quiver. They were both the stepping stones that led me down a path of relative competence. To be truthful, twasn't easy for me at first, but I adapted. Maybe your friends would like to build more skills for themselves also."

"Actually, Martha seemed pretty interested at just that. Wants to learn bow more than sword, though." Evelyn remarked, staring at the hilt of her blade.

Isembard raised his chin in acknowledgment. "Hmm..I'll see to give her that option."

Reports of the undead fully dressed in armor, rising up and attacking the living wasn't an unnatural occurrence these present times around. And in the two trying years that passed since the day Evelyn and her friends had lost everything dear to them, the reports only began to multiply tenfold. The cat with the cross burned into her forehead...wanted desperately to rush into one of the wretched things themselves and run them through personally. Even one would satisfy her.

No.

She was lying to herself. One would never be enough.

All of them dead.

That was her destiny. Her self-proclaimed destiny. But she said nothing of this to anyone but herself. The day felt like a month, but eventually, the moon arose in accordance and night arrived.

"Hey, Eve? You with us?"

Evelyn brought her eyes from the fork she had mercilessly penetrated repeatedly into her bread.

"Y-yes. Sorry. Mind just went blank. Suppose I'm still tired from earlier."

"So how long you think before the Skellie knights and undead prick manifestation reaches it's numbers in our area?" Elijah had directed the question at Isembard.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I've thought about the possibility many times. Too many times 'ta tally, I'm sure. But we've been lucky so far. They don't seem to congregate much by the shorelines..." Isembard twirled the spoon gripped in his paws to his soup. "This is exactly why training you three has been a necessity."

Isembard then turned towards Martha with a welcoming, almost openly challenging smile. "Evelyn told me that ya might be interested in some archery. Am I wrong about that, now?"

Martha nearly chocked on the steamed carrots she was consuming, caught off guard by the assumption. Giving Evelyn a quick, narrow-eyed glance, she returned a nervous reply. "Oh yeah! I did...say that, didn't I? Well, the truth is...I'm terrified of the idea of having to fight. But it's not like we have much of a choice if we want to stay breathing, right?" Martha subconsciously tapped a finger against the small dagger strapped around her leg.

"It would definitely be best," Elijah added. "I've watched some commoners shoot arrows out of town a good amount of times, but that' as close as I've ever gotten."

"Then it's settled!" Isembard exclaimed as he picked up his cup of ale. "Startin' tomorrow morin', I can run ya all down on the basics and how to's. But first, let's talk on less serious matters."

Evelyn leaned forward in her seat. "What else is there to talk about? Day after day this foul, evil movement grows and festers, wasting time on small talk and neglecting planning for another morning is an easy way of spelling death for us all. We should start now, because...every day we..." Evelyn went silent, drawing her eyes back down at the wooden table.

"I'm sorry. Uncalled for."

"No, you're right." Isembard took a quick sip of ale before getting up. "But if things are rushed, you'll all tire more, which leads to less effectiveness in training, which leads to less effectiveness in battle. That's exactly what we don't 've shown great progress in combat and in just short of a year, Evelyn." Isembard's paws were pressed boldly against the table's edge as he spoke. His eyes shot straight through hers, and Evelyn could feel he was no longer speaking about her remark.

"I was just like this when I was much younger. This was how it started. I was just about the same as you all were those two winters passed. When I was informed that my father had been killed, I didn't know what to think. How to process it. And as I got older...I began to understand what had happened much clearer. How he died, who killed him, who the regime was that the one who took his life hailed from...and finding vengeance was all that was fueling my naive, fresh little mind.

Evelyn replied through gritted teeth. "It's not the same-"

"But then, one night, I realized how much time I'd spent trying to avenge my father's demise that I found that it hurt me more than any damage I could do to those responsible. And that there were better ways to the same goal. The night I realized all of this, that was just four nights before. Before I came across the three of you."

Evelyn intended to add something, but her jaw slacked. She let him continue.

"Listen to me. All of you. There's nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with seeking justice towards those who do you wrong. But please, do not let it destroy you in the process. Let it heal you. Let it truly heal you. Because there's a fine difference in serving justice and seeking vengeance. Justice is for the wronged. Vengeance is for yourself." Isembard finished, his palms now unclenched and relaxed.

Evelyn was left unforthcoming. A silence that was shared around the table. Evelyn finally spoke up.

"I just want to be stronger. Stronger for all of you." Evelyn eyed her two friends intently. "I just want all of this to end."

"We do to. You know that. But how we go about it is an entirely different story. We're simply not ready yet." Elijah told her with emphasizing eyes. Another smaller silenced pushed Elijah to tilt his soup bowl back and fourth. "And who says we're qualified, or if it's even in our blood to fight-"

"We are qualified!" Evelyn claimed in a bolder tone. Realizing her solid grip her paw had on her eating utensil, she eased herself, leaning back in her seat once more. "Forgive me. I am really exhausted from training...and my mind hasn't left the training field. I just need to acquire more rest. Sorry for raising my voice." Evelyn then gave them a feint, parting smile and left for her own room.

The three left abandoned at the dinner table all heard Evelyn's door shut soundly behind her as the were left to process everything up to this point. Isembard sighed, getting up and clapping his hands together. "Whelp, it's nearly two til' midnight, I believe. You both can finish up and if ya want. Think up on joining me and Evelyn up on some basics tomorrow. Goodnight till' mornin'."

Isembard left for the hallway to his designated room, Martha and Elijah now left as the final two in a quickly disbanding room.

Evelyn had her face buried in the pillow underneath her, awaiting an involuntary slumber. She couldn't find the will to get the right amount of time to sleep. Almost every night, she would stay up past Martha and Elijah with miscellaneous dark and despairing thoughts uncontrollably bouncing around her mind.

Why was this happening? WHY?

What started this tyranny?

The tyranny that took her parents and her friend's family?

Who was it? Who spear-headed this foul tyranny?

What was his name?

What was her name?

What was their name?

These questions weren't always as overly frequent in her mind as they recently were. After everything had first transpired, she just wanted to get way. Get was far away as she possibly could. She never wanted to be within eyesight of another dead one under those circumstances ever again, undead skellieton, or not. She had just wanted to forget. But this way of thinking began to morph as the years passed and Evelyn had begun to hope that she run into another skellie that was wondering about. Even a spell-caster. She didn't care. She was tired of running.

Evelyn's heart jumped a little, her obsessive thoughts pried from her mind as the door to her room began to slowly creak open. She didn't move herself to see who it was. She just wanted to be left alone until the morning sun arose.

"I killed him. The man that killed my father. The slightly gruff voice that originated from the doorway surprised Evelyn. She hadn't expected him to come. But what really made her turn were his words. "Was right after the war. They lost...the oppressors. But the man made it out alive, with only a nasty scar on his face as proof of that. So I got word of him some years later and tracked him down."

Evelyn pulled the sheets off her frame and sat upright on the edge of the bed, watching Isembard walk up to join her there.

"How did it happen?" she asked. Her eyes were filled with an shameful curiosity.

An ominous chuckle escaped his mouth, his head now craned upwards towards the ceiling.

"You see, I caught him hanging 'round at a bar, far, far away from here. I introduced myself to him. Said my greetings, had a couple swigs. Didn't tell 'em who I actually was. We talked about current politics, the coming hunting season...then I invited him to my home...and I cut him down in the field. Same place where we train every day."

Evelyn was pretty much speechless. She tried to find more than two words to reply with, but the default two only came to fruition.

"I'm sorry."

This earned her another chuckle, more on the light-hearted side this time around.

"No need to be sorry. You haven't done anything...yet." Isembard ended in a dry, low tone. It sent chills down Evelyn's fur. Evelyn turned to look Isembard directly in the eyes with her own. Eyes that held 40+ years of experience gently gazed back.

"After I killed...no, murdered him, I felt- I felt more lost than before. I stood in front of the grave I dug for him before hand and I stood there for the longest time. I realized many things too late." Isembard's hands clenched into fists, shaking slightly. "The bastard had a family, too. The man had friends and a wife...and a father." Isembard shifted forward, leaning his head forward, leaning his head down to the wooded floor. "He was fighting for what he thought was right. For his country. They both were, he and my dad. It was then I finally came to terms on how pointless killing him really was. It changed m for the better. And now I'm spending my time tryin' to make up for what I did...even if it's never enough."

Isembard looked back over to find Evelyn's head weighing heavily down, staring at the same wooded floors he was once fixated upon.

"This "Blood Thief...he deserves to die. To suffer for what he's doin'."

Evelyn's eyes shot open. Blood Thief?

"But please...I urge you to find and keep as much solace in yourself as you can while going down the type of road you're trying to go down. As a man of experience of going down a similar path, I'm gonna tell you this: don't lose yourself. Please. That's truly when your opponent wins. And it happens faster than ya might think. Goodnight, missy. And sleep soundly."

Isembard slowly rose from the bed and walked out of the room, looking back only for a brief moment before closing the door. Evelyn was alone once again, turning her head towards the wall behind her as she laid back upon the bed. She was left to ponder on what the older cat had revealed and spent some more time awake.

Was she spiraling out of her own peace of mind and she was just unaware of it? Was what Isembard told her really relevant to her? And this Blood Thief...why hadn't he told her and her friends about this person long before? Why now of all times!?

A small moment of clarity washed over her as a sudden understanding came unexpected.

"Give something a name...and you give it power." Evelyn whispered to herself as she motioned to look up at the ceiling.

"So why tell me now? Does he think I'm ready in some way?"

She spent nearly another hour thinking about it all before she wearily fell into a deep slumber.