Promise

by LoaDyron

'It's a promise. We will meet again.' The promise made them inseparable, but the future may soon threaten Ezreal and Taric's bond. Facing two adversaries that seek to change Runeterra by any means necessary, will they be able to see each other once again?

3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes:

Hello, everyone!

I want to thank my beat-readers, you guys rock! Also thanking for those who are following this story. Many thanks for your patience, this stuff takes time, and I like to make sure that everything is in place along with my beta readers. This chapter is a bit long, so I hope you guys don't mind.

WARNING: in this chapter, it will contain descriptions of violence. You have been warned

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Chapter III

After minutes of severe pain, the Knight finally left the cave. His wounded leg shivered as he stepped on the grass. Taric laid down next to a tree. Looking at his leg bleeding, he took off his cuisse.Why did you use me? You weren't hurt but protected! I am a Knight! You should respect me. He moved his hands, grabbing the knife in his thigh.

Grabbing the knife firmly, as he took a deep breath, the Knight pulled it out the knife. Blood splashed on his leg. 'Ahhh!' Taric screamed excruciatingly.

Laying his thigh gently, he took bandages from his belts, rolling around his leg. Ambling with pain in the dense forest, Taric reached out to his horse. As the animal sensed his presence, its head softly patted Knight's belly.

'How is our little friend?' Taric looked to the sleepy squirrel. The horse neighed, feeling his gentleness. 'Take me to the Illuminator's Temple. Our friend needs help.'

Mounting his horse, Taric rode back to the city, while holding the squirrel like being in a shield. First, find out who trapped the squirrel. It's unacceptable to hurt other living creatures. Then, after finding out the culprit read Ezreal's journal.

Reaching the Great city of Demacia, the commoners were startled at Taric's swift pacing. Turning to a corner where a group of bakers carried on a fresh cart bread, the Knight spotted closer to a group of houses a tall bright building.

A majestic construction shining by the bright light highlighted the massive blue copula atop of the building. Daisies surrounded the temple on white carved wings shape serving as a vase, welcoming any guest with a sweet fragrance. Hobbling, Taric reached the white, massive archway. Atop it was carved with great detail a sculpture of a human figure bending over with open wings, like an angel ascending to the mortal realms.

Getting inside, two wings emerged from the open centre of the small room. On the right-side a white wing, and on the left side there was bound a dark wing welcoming the faithful.

Opening the right door, a long white carpet with blue and gold simple straight lines on the borders, guided the Knight inside of the temple. Taric was delighted to admire such beautiful architecture.

Although the white was the predominant colour, the carvings were made with great detail. The arched columns were human figures with angel wings, serving as vase to daisies. Between them, there were stained glass windows with circular shapes, illuminating a small part of the temple.

While walking, Taric looked above his head. Elegant forms held with golden suspenders, candles on a chandelier illuminating the congregation. Reaching in the middle of the room, Taric stopped to contemplate the prominent Demacian iconography on the walls.

The Knight desired to express such a beautiful scene, but, how could he? There were no words to describe such elegance and delicacy of the painting.

The image was painted of open skies of blinding light as if the stars reunited their beam in one place. With great majesty and glory was ascending a humanoid figure dressed with heavy white armour. On her helmet in place of her eyes, were orbs of fire.

Taric felt a sense of justice as if he was witnessing her unforgiving wrath, punishing the wicked.

At her back on the line, the first ones worn heavy, medium and light armour, raising their weapons in devotion to Her arrival, exalting with great fervour. Next, men and women dressed in ochre clothing and white aprons with small shite hats carrying loaves of bread. Their faces had signs of old age, firm evident rectangular faces and hands with some marks of hard-working. Next on their back men and woman alike were dressed in fancy white and blue dressing holding baskets with fruit, fish, meat and wheat. Children were playing with animals such as cats, dogs, chicken, pigs and other farm animals.

At the front, Her swords surrounded with holy fire pointed to a man with white robes and golden lines on his torase of wings shape. Shoed with pointed shoes, he wore a long blue cape with a golden falcon symbol and a golden crown upon his head. At his side was placed closer to his feet a gilded lawbook, while he begged for her mercy. Taric new that later, the man was burned alive with blood on his hands, along the parts of the city with men, women and children.

The Knight knew this tale since it was tradition for parents tell to their children as a moral story. It was believed that all started a long time ago when a cruel King that lead his people to poverty. In a time of great famine, the King gathered everyone from his realm to his courtyard. He declared that he will end the old laws since it as on his right, and to show that he cast aside the gilded lawbook to the floor proclaiming himself the law. And since the kingdom had too many mouths to feed, he decided that no elder shall be fed. That created chaos and forced his guards to capture all elderly people to be executed.

The first in line to be executed was a baker. The poor old man implored with his life that he could still give food to everyone. However, the King had too much cruelty in his heart, so he asked if the old man could be young again. The baker had no chance to defend himself against his King. The king said that no redemption shall be held. He ordered to execute the baker. And so, it was done, the old man's head rolled to the ground.

When all seemed to be lost for the people, the immortal Protector appeared in Her great glory. With her blades, she burned the unjust and wicked. And since that day the survivors would remember forever of the glorious day, that from ashes they would have a chance to rebuild the city in justice and honour.

This, according to Taric's father, was a lesson to everyone that nobody was above the law and justice. All Demacians must act with virtue and honour.

A bright light coming from the massive copula illuminated the sanctuary. Ambling, Taric steeped up on the white stairs in pain. At centre yet closer to the first line of the congregation, there was a lector with simple carvings. Atop a final massive white book had, as an illustration, the Protector's image with an aura surrounding her head.

Already inside of the sanctuary, Taric looked around.

Braziers with golden supporters were burned out. Behind there was the altar covered with a cloth with sapphires on the borders. Atop small books were upon one another, aside with two candles that were burned out. Aside, closer to the altar, there was a credence table with white cloth sewed with elegant blue and golden designs. Atop, a pure chalice was close to three white plates and a jar with three white towels.

Behind the temple was the celebrant's chair in the middle. A tall chair carved with straight golden lines, closer above of two small ones.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever. As Taric got closer, he smiled hypnotised by the grace that the light was illuminating the brightest thing in the sanctuary.

Carved in white stone was The Protector, a figure with a radiant aura surrounded its head. Massive wings came from its shoulders as it held two swords against its chest. The expression on the helmet was austere, with no emotion, a perfection beyond any mortal comprehension. Hundreds of candles covered the plinth at its feet.

The Knight felt genuine curiosity crossing his heart as the pain on his thigh had disappeared. 'The heavens have descended your presence.' Taric kept admiring her divine figure. Looking at everything like it was his first time, although he had seen it so many times. He touched the carvings of the statue. 'As a champion, you will have my word to protect your grace. No battle, no thief, no intruder shall damage your eternal beauty.'

'She is pleased with your words, Sir Taric.' A male voice spoke nearby.

As Taric was moving his finger to touch Her helmet. 'The artist captured her divine charm so well.' The Knight reached for it to admire the hard work of the artist that managed to express her beauty exquisitely.

A man with white robes walked at a slow pace towards the Knight. 'Everyone is always captured by Her divinity.' The priest joined his hands in a gesture of prayer.

Taric kept admiring more of the statue's elegance. 'It's impossible to take your eyes off her.'

As the Knight turned to face the priest, the old man looked at his arm covered with his cape. 'Ah! Bless you, Protector.' He said, blessing himself with a relieved tone on his voice. 'For seconds, I thought we would have another big creature. The last time you brought us one, the followers ran away. She could have lost faithful members. Thankfully that didn't happen.'

Taric laughed, approaching the priest. The old man laid his hand on the altar. 'As far as my memory goes, the last one wasn't that big.'

'Not big?' The priest looked at him with his narrowed small eyes. The crackles around his small, thin lips made him seem like a furious little man. 'With all the respect Sir Taric, the last beast was almost big as that column.' He pointed to one closer to the assembly benches.

Taric chuckled. 'Alright, it was almost half of that column.' As a smile escape on his lips. 'So, not that big, right?'

The priest sighed clearly a man with no patience for humour. 'It was still big. And if you desire to bring us animals to get our aid, please consider their size. Her home is not a shelter but a divine place, refuge to those who seek her guidance—'

'No doubt her followers will ask for all that enlightenment.' Taric said as he gingerly showed the wounded squirrel that opened its eyes. 'However, right now, this poor creature needs your aid. More than ever.'

Pulling off his hood, the priest leaned forward his head, observing the animal. Startled the squirrel lowered its body, laying down his long tail. The squirrel moved its hands in Taric's palms as if the animal had an electric shock. As the priest righted his glasses, the squirrel ran over Taric's hand. The Knight could feel the animal's little fingers touching his cheeks, feeling its soft fur on his skin.This is so adorable!

Taric chuckled. 'Scared of him?' The Knight asked as if the animal looked at him. 'There.' The Knight patted squirrel's back. 'He is going to help you get better.'

Feeling the Knight was giving full attention, the squirrel closed his eyes gently to feel Taric fingers caring its back tenderly. Then, after minutes of feeling spoiled, the animal stretched its body to the priest. Closer, the old man examined the improvised bandages at squirrel's hands.

'It's good you did this Sir Taric.' The priest grabbed the animal's paws. 'This little creature has been lucky to have stumbled across someone like you.'

'Is it bad?' Taric asked, concerned.

The priest shook his head. 'This helped to stop the bleeding.' After he unrolled one of the bandages, the old man showed the injury of the coiled blood on the animal's paws, rolling back the bandages.

'As usual, this situation will be in your hands.' Taric said.

'Your little friend will be alright. Come back later, as always.' As the priest was about to turn, he noticed the Knight held his thigh. 'You need our aid, Sir Taric.'

'If you could, please.' Taric nodded.

'Before that.' The priest looked at the statue. 'Let me light a candle in her name. You need to rest your thigh.'

Taric shook his head. 'Let me do it instantly.' He looked at the squirrel looking at him as its eyes were closing. 'Even hurt, there is still energy left in me. And besides, it's for him.' Pointing to the animal already sleeping.

The priest smiled. 'Ah, bless your heart.' He approached the Knight. 'In that case, sit on my chair Ser Taric. With your thigh in that condition, you will need something to support your leg.'

'Thank you very much.' Taric grabbed the animal.

With his slow pace, the priest walked to a door. On a significant height, Taric could imagine what it was like to be on the chair. A place filled with followers listening to the lessons of Her good deeds to be good Demacians. He felt not just pride but loneliness. The utter silence was harmonious but sad. How could that be possible? The Knight mused as his eyes admired to the shining lights fighting with each other, on a mixture of blue and white in the congregation. Surely the architecture could bring joy to those who sacrificed their lives to teach others Her sacred words? Would they be alone for the rest of their lives? Could it be possible they will ever feel joy?

Yet, despite all this grim reality, Taric felt those who sacrificed their causticity to help others was a sign of love. A beauty that no one probably will value. Now it makes sense. Why they can't compromise themselves to someone. How noble their work is. Such graceful thought brought a smile to his lips.

Minutes later, the priest returned. Holding a little the robe, he brought a pillow and a candle. The Knight got up on that instant as the old man approached. They walked to the statue. Bending a little over, the priest tried to lay the stool, yet his hands shivered. As the seat was about to fall, Taric lands a hand to right it properly.

The priest smiled graciously for his help lighting the candle. Then he gestured the Knight to kneel, giving him the torch. Kneeling his leg wasn't a problem, however, kneeling the hurt thigh was like a pair of needles pinching inside of his muscles. Taric's teeth cringed, closing his eyes fast as his leg was trembling.

The priest held his shoulder realising the Knight was in pain. However, despite all the agony, Taric laid the candle at the statue's feet. As he got up slowly, the priest cuffed. 'Something is missing.' The old man said, glancing at him in protest.

'Me?' Taric asked puzzled. 'Is it about the squirrel?'

'Her.' The priest pointed to the statue. 'A little prayer could be ideal or a respectful bow.'

Taric got up slowly. 'She knows my duty perfectly as a Knight has done.' Then he patted the priest's shoulders friendly. 'It was promised to protect her grace.'

As their eyes crossed on another, Taric realised the old man was disappointed almost as if the Knight had broken a vow. 'As is my duty as a Demacian, I insist. She would appreciate your attention since you are asking her aid in return.'

Taric smiled. 'But she received my attention back.' The Knight said in a suave tone. 'Placing a candle at her feet for the hurting squirrel and admiring her beauty.'

The priest looked annoyed at the Knight. 'One day you will answer in her presence for such insolence, Sir Taric.'

Taric laugh. 'And surely she would say that everything was righteous.' With a smile escaping his lips, the Knight moved his hand on his chest. 'You will hear that Sir Taric was committed to his oaths.'

The priest sighed heavily. 'May one day She will enlighten you with her wisdom.' He said as the Knight could hear the old man mumbling. 'Because you are blind.'

'If She hadn't, this poor creature wouldn't be here.' Taric said, adjusting his hair with vanity.

'Come. We need to take care of your thigh.' The priest said, gesturing the Knight to follow him.

Both passed through the door. As they walked down the corridor, one of the doors was slightly opened. Inside a choir was singing in great harmony, men and women dressed in white. The Knight stopped to listen to the music. Voices coming from the heavens glorified The Protector.

'Will they sing later?' Taric asked.

The priest nodded, looking at the Knight listening to the song with serenity. 'You are invited to attend the event if you like.'

Taric looked at the old man. 'But of course! Who will miss magnificent music? Not me.'

After walking the corridors, Taric opened a door in a middle of two jars with daisies. The first thing he noticed was the light coming from the stained glasses illuminating the place. The priest signed the Knight to sit on the bed.

Closer to the bed was a side table in which, atop was in a bowl, white clean folded towels. A jar full of water was next to a candle.

The old man laid the animal next to the Knight. On that second, the door opened. 'Excuse me.' A lad with white robes came inside. 'The Minister desires to speak with you now.'

The priest righted his glasses, looking at the young man that was waiting for his answer. 'You! Come here, lad.' The old man signed the acolyte to approach.

'Yes?' The lad said, in a shy tone lowering his head as if he will receive a severe punishment.

'For days, you were begging to prove yourself.'

'That's true, mister.'

'Well… here you have. A Knight. A worthy man to have your aid.' The priest crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for the lad to do something.

'Y-yes!' The lad said nervously, moving his fingers in a despaired attempt to relax, only to discover to have failed.

The priest sighed, rolling his eyes. 'Lad! Move! Go grab your oils, herbs. Anything you think you should do in this situation!' He cried out.

'Y-yes! Immediately!' The lad lowered more his head. He glanced at the Knight like a frightened little animal. 'In… in a minute, Sir!'

Taric nodded softly. 'Take your time.'

The lad limited himself to nodded in respect. He looked at the old man. 'What do you suggest to tell Minister?'

The priest walked at a slow pace towards the acolyte. 'Tell her that your Hight priest can't go right now. We have a wounded Knight to take care of.' Laying his hands on the lad's shoulders. 'Now.'

The lad nodded, closing the door gently behind them. The priest sighed irritated. Rubbing his eyes constantly as if they were itching badly. He shook his head slowly.

'Is he starting?'

'No. He was trained well to do his duty, Sir Taric. He shouldn't behave like this, ever.'

'You have to encourage him more. All he needs is a little push, here and there.' Taric leaned forward to the priest.

'That's what I thought.' The priest nodded, getting a sit on the bed. 'The lad is talented. He understands the basics, and once in a while, he sneaks during the night to grab more advanced medicine books to give a quick look.'

After a couple of minutes, the acolyte returned, bringing with him a bowl with vinegar, wine, oil and fig leaves. Laying the bowl closer to the Knight, the lad took off the towels from the side table and the jar.

With everything aside, the acolyte as gently as possible took off the Knight's cuisse. Laying the piece of armour on the floor, he inspected the wound. It was ugly and messy. The flesh was opened as if someone had grabbed a knife and slashed the Knight heavily.

Taric observed the acolyte. He was expecting the lad to run away. However, that thought disappeared as he began to mix oil with fig leaves in a small bowl.

'What happened?' The priest asked, as the acolyte finishing the mixture unrolled the bandages on the Knight's thigh, cleaning the blood with a white wet towel.

'Helping someone.'

The acolyte looked at the Knight. 'This will be itchy, Sir.'

'Very well.' Taric nodded, glancing at the deep wound.

'Was it a barbarian? A mage?' The priest asked, observing the acolyte preparing to use the mixture on a white towel into the Knight's wound.

Taric shook his head. 'You probably know him—' Suddenly the Knight felt his thigh itchy as the acolyte had warned him, but the next part was painful. After the irritating feeling, Taric felt as his insides were going mad, like being in a fight. 'Hm!' He groaned, moving his hands to hold his thigh.

'Er… Sir?' The acolyte said as the Knight glanced at him. 'It's frustrating, but could you please take off your hands? If you keep doing that, your condition will get worse.'

Taric limited himself to nod. Then he faced the priest that was waiting for him to tell the responsible for the accident. 'Jarro Lightfeather. He was in Demacia's forest today.'

As the Knight said the name, Taric could notice the priest didn't like the adventurer at all. His lower lip frowned heavily as if he was chewing rotten food. His eyes pupils reflected discontent like a priest that held a solemn confession of a dangerous criminal.

'You don't fancy him.' Taric concluded as the acolyte washed the wound with wine and fig leaves.

'Nobody does, Sir Taric.' The priest sighed heavily. 'Since the first day he stepped on our territory, I believe our guards had to keep an eye on him.'

'Why?' Taric asked.

'This is not from me but,' the priest looked around as if he was looking for some at the walls, popping the ears to listen to them. Then he faced the Knight. 'Do you remember when he tried to uncover the death of the actress that plays a maiden with a lamb mask?' Taric nodded. 'On that same day, according to a guard's conversation, after he finished the investigation, he was sneaking around the scene of the death.' The priest whispered. 'The guards had to call him twice to not return to a place where an investigation was in process.'

'So, he is a criminal.' Taric added, observing the acolyte rolling a new bandage on his thigh.

The priest nodded. 'He is looking for trouble.' He looked at the acolyte that signed Taric to stand up. As the Knight obeyed, the lad put the cuisse back. 'He is a mischievous and evil young man, nothing else.'

Taric widely opened his eyes. 'Serious.' He crossed his arms as the acolyte finished the task. 'He isn't that evil or mischievous. You have seen worse than that.' The Knight twitched his lips, although, a smirk escaped his mouth.

'Maybe, but he doesn't inspire trust.'

'But he does manage to cause trouble for adventure. And a good one nevertheless.'

The priest looked at the Knight with his eyes opened like an owl's. 'Are you implying that you will do it as well?'

'Oh, yes. Always tempted.' Taric said in a playful tone. 'Imagine me walking in the streets, trespassing in forbidden places. Making the guards completely going mad, searching for something that isn't there. Only to discover red roses.'

'You wouldn't dare!'

'You doubt it?' Taric winked. 'Then, after the amusing discovering, they will run after me shouting. 'Ser Taric, how dare you to do such a thing!' Taric's voice becomes deep like a drunk in a tavern. 'Don't you have honour? Don't you know your responsibilities?' Then the Knight laid his hands on his waist, moving his head smoothly to pull a little of his hair on his back. 'In which I will answer. 'But of course. It is just irresistible to stay in order. Sorry for my disobedience.'

'Sir Taric!' The priest said in protest. 'If your father could listen to you just now, he would be ashamed!'

His face right now is so funny! Taric laughed. 'Oh, my friend, what's life without a little laugher?' patting the priest's shoulders gently.

'Sir.' The acolyte approached the Knight, with all the things dirty but with a pleasant smell in the bowl. 'Today, you will have to rest. That wound was ugly and may open again—'

'Thank you for your concern.' Taric said gently to the lad that nodded fast. 'However, my duties are priory. As Knight resting, it will be futile. Fragile lives need my aid.'

'Go wash that already.' The priest pointed to the door. 'And you did well today. Good job, lad.'

The acolyte looked at the Knight that nodded in an encouraging way for the lad to be proud of his task. And by his look, the Knight could conclude he was right. The lad's lips lines moved up while he showed his teeth, his eyes shined radiantly like a fulfilled acolyte that had achieved his priesthood.

'Immediately.' The acolyte nodded, walking to the door.

The priest waited for a little for the acolyte to shoot the door. 'What will you do about Jarro?'

That was a good question. Taric felt extremely upset for being used, especially for someone that had been in his country before. When he met Jarro, Taric was expecting to be respected since his position was significant with prestige and power. Yet the adventurer showed to be selfish and arrogant, these two things that could push off anyone from him. On the other hand, Jarro is shown to be knowledgeable and intelligent. So, why was he so unpleasant? There must be a reason why he acts the way he does. Lack of confidence? Personality? Or maybe is something from his family?

'He left me reading his journal.' Taric grabbed Jarro's journal. The image of Jarro writing in it came to the Knight's mind. He was really enjoying documenting everything that happened. His confident and joyful smile was genuine.

The priest looked at the Knight. Narrowing his eyes in doubt, the old man laid his hand on Taric's shoulder. 'You are not thinking of helping Jarro, are you?'

'Not for now.' Taric answered, walking out of the corridors. 'Yes, he did a terrible deed today—'

The priest sighed. 'Lad with all the respect, Jarro will never listen to you. Someone like him doesn't deserve your attention.'

'Maybe it will be my mistake in the future.' Taric glanced at Jarro's journal. 'The answer is inside here.'

'Knowing you all these years, nothing will change your mind.' The priest shook his head. 'Just be careful. And if you find out he's for trouble, report to our guards.'

'Our men are well trained. That wouldn't be necessary.' Taric opened the corridor door, patting the old man's shoulder.

As the Knight left the corridors, his eyes looked to the candle he had lighted to the Protector. Just like a blink of his eye, the flame flickered. Immediately, Taric looked to the statute. Its eyes shined like fire for seconds.

'Protector, you do not agree with my judgment?' But the statute stayed silent. Cold. Emotionless. 'This is the right choice. He will realise his actions, you will see.'

With pressing matters to attempt, Taric left the place in search of the hunter group responsible for the attempt of hurting the flying squirrels. After passing some residential streets and shops, Taric reached the marketplace. In a fountain with white columns, laughing children were splitting water with another. On stalls were merchants selling their merchandise, bread, fry food, spices, rugs, fish, meat, fruit and vegetables, weapons and tools. Suddenly, a familiar earthly smell floated on the air. The stall spices were the attraction today, soldiers and ladies were tasting cumin.

As Taric was about to approach to a vegetable and fruit stall, someone pocked his shoulder. 'Yes? Who is it?' Taric turned.

A man righted his hat with an eagle feather at the top. 'You must be Sir Taric.'

'That's correct.' Taric nodded. 'And who am I having the pleasure to speak with?' He pushed his hair on his back.

'Hunter's Guild Master, my name is Titus. A pleasure Sir Taric.' The hunter made a respectful bow.

That's the thing Jarro should have done. 'The pleasure is all mine.' Taric smiled, satisfied with respect towards him. 'Could you please be so kind and tell me what's the matter at hand?'

The hunter looked around as some people passed by. 'It's very delicate and something we shouldn't discuss in public.' He whispered.

'But of course.' Taric nodded. 'Please lead the way.'

Walking in city as both reached a more countryside structure, passing through the mountains, the Knight could see a wooden sign with Demacian calligraphy written, hunter's Guild. The structure was exactly the same as the city, however here the materials were petricite with bricks on rooftops.

Inside the Knight spotted men and women sitting on chairs chatting with each other. On the walls were not only the hunter's weaponry exposed, but also what they like to call trophies; heads of a deers, wild boars, wolves, bats, ravens and the massive of all crag beast. Taric felt his stomach squeezing his insides so hard that he could feel uncomfortable as if he was ready to vomit. Sowing like this is wrong!

Walking in the crowd of hunters that were having their break, Taric and Titus approached a door closer to a deer trophy. The Knight took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with the trophy as the hunter opened the door. In the middle of the room, there was a fireplace, in which it was displayed a crossbow. On the wall atop of the fire, the Knight noticed markings with a simple metal sign something written.

Despite the simple furniture, the most contrasting thing in the room were the columns of the corners; carvings of the wild beast well known of the country, Crag beast. Admiring the precision, Taric was astonished by the detail on the petricite of the beast's fur, its opened eyes closer to his spiky nose and large horns coming from its face skull; as if the creature was coming out of the columns to attack the visitor.

Next to it was a cupboard with glasses inside well organized, and above, alcoholic bottles. Taric could recognise some drinks such as rum and wine.

Closer to a large window but semi-covered with blue curtains were several papers under the table. As Taric approached, he noticed on the floor the head of animals carved on a wood shield-like shape.

The hunter noticed the Knight's quick observation. 'Sharp eye you have, Sir Taric. Guess I was wrong of thinking to hide this to not cause you discomfort.' He said, walking to a cupboard closer the beast statue.

Taric smiled courteously. 'Nothing escapes from my sight.'

'Apparently not.' Opening a shelve, Titus grabbed two cups and a glass of wine. 'Do you fancy wine? This one is Demacian.'

'My favourite!' Taric nodded as the hunter laid the cups carefully on the table.

Next, the hunter filled the cups as he sat on the table. Taric grabbed the glass holding on an angle. He noticed a little light red on the centre, fading out to a pink colour on the outside of the glass. He cognized immediately to be Demacian red wine, especially old-style, by the oxidization in it.

The Knight swirled the cup gently, putting his nose all the way down into the cup.Mm... refreshing. Smells really good. An aroma of red fruits crossed his senses, a mixture of cherries, grapes, raspberries and a little bit of tobacco. Giving a quick sip, the liquid swirled around his mouth. Stewed red fruits reminded him of strawberry pie with crust.

'Lovely drink.' Taric said, crossing one leg. 'This indeed is the finest Demacian wine.' As he gave another small sip.

'Thought you would enjoy this, Sir Taric.' Titus said, laying his cup on the table as he grabbed the trophies. He walked to a wardrobe closer to a trophy of hunting weapons. 'If you excuse me.'

'Very thoughtful of you.' Taric nodded as the hunter put the trophies inside. 'Now, what is the reason you wanted to discuss with me?'

'You probably have an idea.' The hunter said, sitting on the table. He gave a little sip. 'It's about the mess that one of my members is causing at the King's Head tavern. Something dealing with squirrel meat.'

'You came in good time, my friend.' Taric nodded, satisfied. 'During my training, it crossed my mind that the poor creature would die this time. But thankfully I came in time to save him. Is this some kind of rampage of murder? Hate towards animals?'

'No idea to be honest.' Titus whirled his cup thoughtfully. 'If this situation goes further, not only will it put my guild at risk but also rumours will spread fast.'

'And that's why you are confiding in me for that to not happen again correct?' Taric gave another sip, laying the cup on the table delicately as if he was holding a beautiful piece of art.

Titus nodded. 'Aye. Let me tell you how all this started, Sir Taric.'

Putting his cup aside, Titus joined his hands. He moved his fingers thoughtful like manor, almost as if he recalled the terrible event. By his expression, Taric could observe the man in detail. The hunter twitching his walrus moustache, unpleasant although the Knight could notice his serious, calm small eyes staring at him.

'Our business with the tavern of The King's Head was doing well. In fact, we are their favourite food distributor, my boys and girls always deliver what they need for their costumers.' As Titus gave another sip, a little of wine ran on his moustache. Grabbing a handkerchief, he cleaned it carefully. 'All started by the owner ordering a wild boar for a wedding. Everything went well, as usual, discussing the price and the quantity of the food.'

'Is it normal for your profession to use a cage?'

'Yes, but our cages are made of the hood. Why? Did you find something strange?'

'The cage was made of iron, almost as if it was made from a dungeon proposedly to torture.'

'You said the squirrel was injured. How badly is it?' Titus asked.

'Its paws were bleeding, everywhere. The squirrel tried to stop the blood. It was messy and horrible.' Taric explained.

'Ah! That makes all sense now.' Titus nodded. 'It wasn't the shabby lad. He never was keen into hunting, to be honest. He is just here to make his family proud, that's all.' The hunter has another sip. 'And neither the young lady. Watching blood makes her disgusted.'

'Speaking of members, could you please describe them for me?'

'You are thinking to discuss this with them? To be honest, Sir Taric doesn't bother with that.' The hunter looked down on his wine. 'That one and the young lady can come here, and I was thinking of telling them to find something that they could fancy. This business is not for everyone.'

'Then who do you want me to focus on?' Taric asked, noticing the hunter squeezing his moustache.

'The one that started all this mess.' The man said in a harsh voice almost as if he was spiting on the ground. 'He is a slim lad. Which makes many of us thinking why in the first place he decided to be a hunter. Because let's face it, on this profession at least your body as to be strong.'

'Then why did you hire him?'

'We needed young people in our group.' The hunter said more in a way to dispatch the Knight. 'However, if we knew that could turn into this—'

'Anything more you can tell me?' Taric interrupted him.

Realising he was cut off, the hunter stared at the Knight with unpleasant eyes. 'Even if you had his description will be like every average Demacian young man. However, look for his home on the district closer to the walls to the farms. That should be his place.'

Taric could see Titus's unhappy face. These observant small dark eyes will not escape anything from his sight, like a hunter preparing to shoot on a prey. The hunter moved his moustache, adjusting his hunter hat.

'A certain bird from my guild told me that you have… a special talent to deal with people without creating any fuss.'

Taric straightens his posture, moving his fingers on the knee like a nobleman. 'That's true.' The Knight moved his hair with vanity, as a big smile escaped his lips. 'There's no point fighting the lad.'

The hunter smiled for seconds. 'And that's why we will count on you for this small but important task, Sir Taric.' Titus faced the Knight. 'The lad is out of his mind, he may even sound like a murder true be told; but as responsible and the owner of the guild, we will deal with this on our way.'

'This means no guards involved?' Taric asked curiously.

The hunter nodded. 'We aren't a shady organisation, and the guard's help will always be welcomed. However, we can't rely on them all the time.'

It's not only that. Taric could tell by the hunter's reaction. His words spoken sincerely and honesty, yet there were traces of guilty and responsibility like the owner was the father of all members. 'You feel responsible for the lad's actions.'

Laying his hand on the table, Titus nodded. 'That's true. If something goes wrong, it's me who will have to deal with the consequences.' He explained. 'So, Sir Taric, can this humble guild be counting on your help?'

Taric smiled. 'But of course.'

The hunter stood up. 'We are counting on you for this issue.' Standing his hand. 'Please do not kill the lad.'

Taric stood up. 'You will have results tonight.' Shaking hands. 'The lad will come back unharmed.'

Leaving the place, Taric looked upon the sky. The bright blue was fading into darkness as the stars began to shine. His stomach, on the other hand, was groaning furiously like a hungry lion. Endure! This is nothing. The Knight patted his belly, taking a deep breath. He couldn't go back to a tavern and having his meal calmly while someone was hurting defenceless lives. He had to do what he must do, for the species not to fade out of existence.

Following the hunter's indications, Taric reached the residential area. The streets were silent and empty. The light came from the houses were the Knight could see the resident's silhouette. Guards were patrolling around, and by their looks, it would be a long, tedious night. With their eyes slightly closed with frowns on their faces, the guards knew tonight their luck will be catching unfortunate souls robbing or trying to break through a house.

But if the Knight could pass through them without causing any alert, tonight the lad will be in good hands coming back to the Hunter's Guild. At least it was Taric's intention to make sure no more flying squirrels will be threatened.

As the Knight kept looking on the narrow street, he noticed a house without light. Looking around the house, Taric spotted a little fur on the window's stool. Grabbing it, he saw fresh blood on the animal's skin. At first, the Knight tried to spot a clue of the squirrels but found himself looking inside on the dark window.

'What are you doing? Trying to sneak into my house!'

A voice came from his back as something sharp touched Taric's neck. 'Trying to find out if the owner has arrived.' The Knight answered.

'You must be a patrolling guard!' The voice said agitated, trying to sound threating. 'Do they nowadays break into people's house? Does our king has lost his mind?'

Calmly as if the Knight wasn't in any danger, Taric turned to face the voice. 'Do I look like a guard?' He winked.

The lad laid his knife in his pocket. Although the young man had a slim feature with a skeleton face, what was most evident was his neck. As his bloody fingers began to scratch on it, little wounds formed on his tanned like dark chocolate skin.

'No.' The young man began to scratch his neck violently like his nails were a sharp knife. 'But still, you are a stranger that wanted to be in my house for some reason.'

As the young hunter scratched more, more, and more, Taric noticed a popped out a violet vein. Is he alright? Because of his neck… 'You are not to blame to sound defensive, it's understandable.' The Knight said smoothly, keeping attention to the young hunter's reaction. 'My apologies for the intrusion, but there's an important issue to be discussed. We don't need to use violence.'

However, the lad noticed the Knight glancing time at his belt with hanged dead squirrels. Taric's eyes were upset and sad as if he had lost a dear friend. 'Oh! So that's why you are here.' The lad said as a big grinned escaped his lips.

Taric had a strong feeling of danger and eerie in the air. The young hunter's lips despite being thin it was like they enlarged at that moment. Masking his huge grin, a monstrosity of a smile.

Taric wasn't intimidated. He had to try to reach to the young man's humanity. There must be something he could talk that could make the lad see his wrong.

The young hunter stared at Taric slowly, as his pupils studied the strong Knight up and down, like trying to spot something as a weakness. 'No. there's nothing to discuss it, but if it pleases you.' He opened the door. 'Come in.'

Taric smiled. 'After you.' He gestured softy.

As the Knight step inside a strong odour infiltrated the air as if the place was closed for decades, along with a stench of rotting flesh. As the lad's lighted a torch, the Knight's heart felt on the ground bleeding in pain.

The violence and carnage inside were too much to endure for weak stomachs. It was on the ceiling hanged dead flying squirrel bodies. Their skin were bloody with browsers as if they were skinned but brutally spanked alive. In some bodies, the Knight could see their organs ripped outside of their bodies like an exposable object to go to the rubbish. Moving more in the room, Taric witnessed a flying squirrel staring at him having his last breath.

'You see Knight.' The young man said. 'This is why they deserve to be tortured. They are so vulnerable that it makes me hurt them more.'

Taric ignored the young hunter as he spotted an alive flying squirrel in the middle of dead ones. Its body was twitching in horror. As the Knight rushed in its direction, the lad grabbing his knife moved to stab Taric.

By the refection in the window realising what was happening, the Knight moved of his arm, striking the young hunter with his armour as hard as he could to keep him distracted. The lad rolled on the ground groaning in severe pain.

Reaching to the animal, Taric took off the robe as the squirrel fall on his hands. The Knight taking his cape covered the animal, patting gently with care.

Taric smiled more relived. 'It's alright. I will protect you.' He is still alive!

Taric turned to face the young hunter that was crawling in pain like a worm in a despaired attempt to hurt the Knight again. 'You can still return to your normal life.' He said in a soft tone.

The young hunter didn't answer. And, despite all the violence and all the pain he caused to the animals; Taric found it cruel to live the young man suffering. Laying the squirrel closer to him, the Knight grabbed the young hunter's arm. The lad raised an eyebrow at the Knight bewildered, as he cringing, his teeth forced his legs to stand up.

'You still have time to fix your life.' Taric walked with the young hunter to a chair, although he knew that any second the lad could attack him since the lad didn't seem to be stable.

'But what if I don't want to return?'

'And why not?'

The lad burst, laughing hard like a maniac. 'Because my parents will force me to do something that I hate.' He faced the Knight grinning, the same malicious smile.

'Then tell me something you would like to do instead.' Taric looked sat the young hunter.

The lad showed his teeth as if the Knight asked what he was hoping for. The young hunter's eyes were focused on Taric, staring intensively like he was waiting for the Knight to be off guard.

He moved his fingers like a mage casting a spell to his belt. 'Kill. Murder. That's my future.' The lad said already with his hands on his belt.

'Don't let your heart be consumed by hate.' Taric said in a gentle tone. 'Embrace those who care about you—'

However, despite Taric's speech being full of hope, the lad, was having fun instead of taking the Knight's advise seriously. The young hunter had his lips twisted in such fashion almost as if he had an exaggerated smirk. His eyes were distorted trying to imitate an idiot, as the lad moved his fingers at the same time as Taric was speaking. So rude! How can he treat me like this! A Knight of all people! This is a lost cause.

'Are you finished? Because I'm getting bored.' The lad asked as he scratched his neck, this time harsh.

'Stop!' Taric said, realising the lad's neck was begging to bleed.

'This doesn't hurt, Knight.' The young hunter scratched deeper on the swollen vein.

As the lad's nails penetrated deeper on the flesh, came noises of what seemed to be muscles popping out of his flesh. His neck was covered in blood like a river. And as Taric kept observing the young hunter, he didn't seem bothered by the situation. This is one of my rare cases. He simply doesn't care. He disrespected me!

Looking at his eyes, Taric could see that the young hunter pupils shined like any normal human eye, yet there was nothing inside, as if he was empty. Not even a teardrop or eyebrows moving down for reconciliation. Has the lad lost his soul? His dignity? No, Taric knew the answer.

This young man was evil, no more, no less. He will never show mercy, compassion and love; simple human features that could change the world and others around. This man will keep hurt everything he sees, and the Knight was convinced that his massacre with the flying squirrels was a test.

'Nothing to say, huh?' The lad grinned in an attempt to taunt the Knight that was in front of the squirrel. 'That thing will be hurt.' He pointed his dagger. 'Badly. It will feel my blade.'

'You will have to pass through me first.' Taric grabbed his hammer and shield. 'You could have shown kindness, but the instant you revealed hatred.'

The air became heavy and dark as if the sky had destroyed all the stars in the sky, no light to guide the night. They stared at each other, waiting for the moment where one of them were to make their first move. Although Taric could tell the lad wanted to start first. Grabbing his dagger and sword, the young hunter was trying his best to contain his murder instincts. However, his hands were shaking anxiously like in a flash he will begin the attack.

Taking that as his advantage, Taric titled his shield forward as he brought down his hammer firmly. Both moved aside to try to catch a weakness although the Knight decided to not move as much, trying to protect the animal since he knew any second the lad could have an idea to hurt the squirrel in front him.

Realising the Knight's tactic, the lad grinned. 'Oh? Defending a stupid creature?' He tried again to haunt the Knight to make him vulnerable; however, Taric remained calm.

'Yes, until the end.' Taric said confidently. 'I am the champion of life! Prepare to taste my wrath!'

Not resisting to wait for so long the lad moved his sword in an attempt to hurt the Knight's thigs, however, Taric defended with his hammer. The blade clashed on one other's weapons.

Stepping a little back, the lad smirked widely. The young hunter dashed towards the Knight slashing with his sword, once again Taric defended with his hammer. At that moment the lad moved his dagger against the Knight hurt thigh.

Moving his shield, Taric moved with all his strength defending himself. The lad lost his balance as the Knight bashed with his hammer forward. The young hunter rolled over the ground.

Groaning with severe pain, the lad looked at the Knight that was walking in his direction without hesitation. His eyes were focused on the lad as if at any second, he will escape. With escape in mind, the young hunter tried to grab his weapons desperately; yet Taric rolled them aside, pointing his hammer to the lad.

His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows pushed down. His lips while frowned hard, he forced a smile. 'So, what now? You captured me. Congratulations.' The lad said in a grave tone trying to sound threatening.

Taric looked around, and to his horror, a squirrel, skinned alive and currently on deaths door, he could use the rope to tie the lad's hand. He took a deep breath as the idea was too disturbing for his tastes. He looked at his cape that was protecting the animal, but it was far away from his reach, and yet he knew that was precisely what the young hunter wanted. An opportunity to kill and escape, otherwise, Taric will be a witness to his crimes.

'Not much of a talk now?' The young hunter mocked him, laughing like a maniac. 'The others will hear that I silenced a Knight.'

With pain in his heart, Taric gently untied a dead animal. Laying him on the ground. 'Ah! You will take me to that old man.' The lad said as the Knight tied up his hands. 'What has he told you? To bring to me back to that torture chamber?'

'Yes, in which that will not happen.' Taric approached. 'It was our deal to bring you alive and unharmed. However, you can't be allowed to hurt more fragile lives! That's unacceptable!'

In that same instance, there was a dark, eerie silence, as if the place became an abandoned haunted house. Like the ghosts of the squirrels would appear and get vengeance of the lad's actions. However, the squirrel on the cape got out and ran outside of the house.

'What makes you think when the old man founds me alive things will change?' The lad asked. 'Do you truly believe he will make me better? That everything I have accomplished will be forgotten? That the king will forgive me?'

The place started to become cold like ice, and even well-protected Taric felt his body trembling. His teeth cringed as if he was chewing ice. He looked around, but nothing was found, only a horrible carnage of dead animals.

'With you? Nothing will change.' Taric looked down on the young hunter as if the Knight was more prominent. What is this? As I have heard from a guard on an investigation, the mageseekers could classify this as a mage trick.

'That's correct.' The young hunter said, hugging himself. 'The enjoyment of killing them was great! The adrenaline on my hands we unstoppable.'

'This means, whatever happens, you are in trouble.' Taric hugged himself as a confident smile escaped his lips. 'You have nowhere to run. Your soul is already fated. And since you will die by my hands, be grateful that your death will be merciful.'

'Merciful? How kind of you, Knight.' The young hunter said in a scornful tone.

Whatever it was happening in the room, it was determined that the place will collapse in cold and death. The Knight tried to reach the lad's heart with kindness and compassion, and that wasn't enough. He wanted to make him see how important it was to change for good, yet the young hunter refused to chance. The young hunter was immoral, Taric found no solution but to kill him.

Titus will be mad knowing the lad was killed instead of being brought for justice according to his Guild laws, however, Taric couldn't let more pain to the poor creatures at danger. These delicate lives that deserve nothing more but left in peace.

'So, how will my death? be' The young hunter asked.

'You aren't in a position to speak highly.' Taric pointed out, as he pushed his hair back. 'Be ready to face the Protector. And thank her for being me who judged you.'

The young hunter laughed. 'Why? Is this some kind of joke?'

'You will receive a merciful death despite all the horror you have done.' Taric said.

'What you call mercy is nothing more than an excuse for you to be proud of yourself.' The young hunter observed the Knight listening to him carefully. 'What you truly desire is for the others to glorify you.'

As Taric raised his eyebrows in surprise, a chuckle escaped his mouth. 'My men knows my methods are flawless, allowing me to solve the problems easily.'

'You are just like others.' The young hunter said as the Knight gave him a glance, not furious or angry, preferably a proud one. 'A Knight full of himself that thinks he's perfect—'

'You really have no idea what kind of punishment you will receive if you were with the mages instant, or with the king's guards.' Taric said more in a way to shut the lad down.

'Do you think I'm that naïve?' The young hunter asked as his eyes meet the Knight's ones. 'The king will push my body to the limits with all his favourite instruments, which are my type.'

'And the mages will torture you with their horrific methods.' Taric finished the lad's thoughts.

'At the end being killed by you, the mages, king's guards or the hunters matters nothing.'

For a moment, silence spoke in the room, as the cold had taken the Knight's and the young hunter's voice out of their throats.

'Before you have your last breath, I would like to ask you something.'

'And after that comes the torture. My favourite part!'

'Who turned you like this? A demon? A mage?' Taric asked, looking for something sharp around the place.

'Maybe he was both? Or none?' The lad answered. 'One thing was clear his voice.' The young hunter observed Taric grabbing a knife. 'He sounded much like my father… like a true friend.'

'If what you call a friend is someone that encourages you to kill,' Taric approached looking to the knife. 'Then you are a delusional young man.' The Knight looked at the lad. 'He deceived you—'

'On the contrary he made me see my true propose.' The young hunter cut it the Knight.

'Can you describe him for me?' Taric asked, holding the knife.

'No.' The lad said. 'There's nothing to describe. Only his truthful voice of reason and wisdom.'

The young hunter was calm like the ocean and serene as if he was listening to a sweet song despite the cold air inside. For Taric surprise the lad was telling the truth, at, least to some degree. He sounded frank and very determined to do whatever the creature or man told him.

'Do you want to say anything before you die?' Taric asked, looking at the lad fat vein that was ready to explode.

'That's where you have to strike me, Knight.' The young hunter said. 'You can see it, can't you?'

Taric opened his eyes surprised. 'How? Who told you this?'

The lad laughed. 'He told me you will see the sign. That you, with time, will realise that with desire, everything is possible.'

Taric could feel his body becoming paralysed by the cold. His fingers were numb as if he couldn't 't feel them anymore. Holding the lad's head with care, the Knight held the knife. A little hesitant, he tried to make some sense on his mind that it was wrong to kill. However, everything was in place, and the lad didn't show remorse for his actions.

It has to be done. He must die in the name of life. Holding the knife firmly Taric made a deep cut. Their vein opened wildly as its muscles moved in a desperate attempt to have a little air. Observing that the lad didn't make an attempt to escape, the Knight craved the knife's blade on the big vein.

The young hunter could scream of horror and pain; however, he was enduring all of it like a valiant Knight in battle. Blood ran on the large vein reaching Taric hands. The Knight observed the lad's last breath.

The young hunter shivered several times if death hadn't arrived to take him to the other side like he was resisting his time to depart from the living world. And, as if the end had touched him, the young hunter breathed out finally for the last time.

Taric let the knife fall on the ground, as he was feeling airless and less cold. He felt the air becoming breathable and returning to its average temperature. He looked at the door to see if someone was getting inside.

You had the opportunity to change. Taric grabbed the death lad, wrapping his body with his cape. But you decided to remain wicked.

As Taric entered the guild, everyone looked immediately at the young death hunter. Despite the silence and disappointed looks in the room, the Knight could hear their whispers. 'The boss will not like this.' A woman shook her head. 'Aye. He will go mad.' A man said nodding in agreement. 'He promised to bring the lad back! He broke his vow!'

Yet, despite all misunderstood of the situation, Taric limited himself smiling at them receiving in return frowns and faces in disapproval.

Straighten his posture as he held the young hunter's body on his arms, Taric knock on the door.

'Open the door already.' Said a hunter, getting up from his chair.

The silence was made as Taric did what it was told. Titus was on his secretary, holding his hands in deep thought. He had a massive, serious expression on his face like he will receive bad news ahead. He twitched his moustache more in an attempt to find comfort.

'Good evening Titus.' Taric closed the door.

The hunger raised his head, staring intensively at the Knight. If his face could speak it defiantly will be very unpleasant, almost as if he would like to kill the Knight instantly.

'I can explain—'

'How?'

'You were right, the lad was a murder.' Taric said in a smooth tone, laying the young hunter corpse on the ground gently. 'He was a lost cause. Sorry to bring you bad news.'

The hunter got up in flames. Taking a deep angry breath, his lips twitched hard along with his moustache. 'It was ordered for you to bring him back alive. You even promised me that he will be here unharmed!' Then Titus stared like mad at the Knight. 'I trusted you!'

Taric remained calm despite all agitated vibes in the room. 'The lad could be here if he didn't have killed all those poor creatures—'

'So, is it more important for you to break your vow than do your job? Knight?' Titus asked, clearly upset.

Taric sighed. 'We can discuss this situation—'

'There's nothing to discuss.' Titus held his tankard firmly like he contained his anger. 'A duty was given you, and you decided it was a good idea to ignore it.'

Sitting on one the chair, Taric crossed one leg as he moved his hand on his knee. 'Titus, I tried to reach lad's humanity several times, but there was nothing in him, only malice and lack of empathy.'

'Even so—' Titus glanced at the corpse at the ground. 'That was no excuse for you to do what you please.'

'But someone like that is dangerous to have out there.' Taric moved his fingers like a wave on his knee.

Titus said if the words he pronounced were challenging to elaborate. 'Ser Taric.' He took a deep angry breath. 'In my establishment, we have our own methods to deal with this kind of situation, this wasn't the first time.'

Clearly, he isn't aware of the situation. Did he know the lad at all? 'One question Titus.' Annoyed the hunter gestured his hands more on the way to the Knight make him speak fast. 'Did you meet the young man at all? Do you know how really drives him to live?'

'What if we all do? Is that another of your excuses to make things that were asked of you at your way?'

Taric chuckled surprised by how the hunter could be so blind and naïve. This only means Titus didn't know the lad at all. Perhaps he just left the lad to make his application, teaching him the basics and then let him freely murder the animals.

'Which means you never knew him.' Taric said confidently glancing at the hunter that had his eyes on the corpse.

Titus stared intensively at the Knight as he moved his hands together. 'The rank that was given to you should have been placed with someone more dedicated. You are—'

'The perfect man for the job.' Taric said with a smile on his face. 'Which unfortunately didn't end up as we had agreed.'

Titus glanced for the last time to the corpse, then he faced the Knight. 'Let me see his body before your father knows what his son has done.'

Getting up from his chair, Taric uncovered the dead body. As Titus asked an eye on the lad's dead body, his face froze of rage. As his cheeks painted red, his eyes widely opened as if his orbs will be popped out of his face. His moustache's hair was grown wild like an angry cat.

Titus glared at the Knight. 'Get out.' His voice was deep and

The vein didn't go away, yet. 'He still has it.' Taric pointed at lad's neck. 'Can't you see? His bobbled—'

'Get out you worthless Knight!' Titus held with anger. 'How dare you to choose who dies or lives!'

Titus has breathing heavily as if he was having difficulty to have air, while he closed his fists to make sure Taric could still be alive. The Knight felt the ambience becoming hostile rather than welcoming like the room had a spell. Courteously Taric nodded and walked to the door silently. The lad was too evil to listen to anyone. Nothing could be done. One day he will realise this.

'Your king deserves better than this.' Titus warned him. 'I pray that the Protector never shield you, and at your hour when you must need to be healed, may the Veiled Lady never bring your soul to rest.'

As if the hunter had said nothing, Taric smiled, leaving the place. The sky was transforming in a turmoil of dark colours fighting each other to the sun gradually felt to sleep. Let's see our little friend. Taric ran to the Illumninator's temple.

It was silent as no living soul was inside. Yet, someone was closer to the Protector's figure. An acolyte was replacing new candles and lighting them, while she murmured names and prayers.

'Excuse me—' Taric approached.

The young woman turned. 'Yes? Is to place a candle for you, Sir?'

Taric shook his head. 'Is the Hight priest here?'

She nodded. 'He is in his office,' pointing to the door.

Walking on the corridors, some acolytes dressed in a long white robe and a symbol of three points half of a star, greet him. Taric reached to the high priest office.

Despite the small space, everything was tidy up. Behind, there's a broad picture of a man with the same white ropes as the priest. Even though his face couldn't be seen clearly, one thing was highlighted. His eyes reflected peace and tranquillity, although it seemed sadness and sorrow crossed together. The founder of the organization. He must have seen so much in his life.

Bookshelves full of books were closer to the open window. There was a wooden closed-chest, near a small table. Above it, a jar with water was together with a small bowl with clean towels, and a pair of blocks of sops.

On the secretary, was the priest checking scrolls. The candles wax on dripped out of the golden candlestick, at the table's corner. At the opposite side of the table, was the squirrel with new bandages, sleeping on Taric's cape.

'May I come in?' Taric knocked on the door.

'Yes, please.' The priest laid a scroll on a box. As Taric came inside, the animal's ears twitched by his steeps. 'There. Your friend was very agitated. Maybe it was waiting for you.'

Taric grabbed the animal on his hands, feeling on his chest its tiny fingers. As he laid the cap on his legs, the squirrel rolled back to its sleep.

Taric smiled. 'Thank you for your help.'

The old man nodded. 'We could help the little fellow. Although, not completely.'

Taric's smile vanished slowly. 'What, exactly?' as his voice spoke with extreme concern.

The priest laid another page on the box. 'We managed its fingers. In a pair of three or four days, it will be healed completely.' His eyes looked to the Knight. 'But unfortunately, your friend will lose its arboreal highways. Sorry about the bad news.'

A feeling of guilt and remorse crossed Taric's heart. The image of the animal in the cage didn't leave his mind. How painful must have been for the squirrel to suffer such cruel fate? Why did it have to go through that trauma?

'This case is done. These creatures are safe from danger.' Taric petted the animal's tail gently.

'The Veiled Lady was merciful.' Laying the rest of the scrolls, the priest looked to the Knight. 'You look miserable.'

'Don't concern yourself with that,' Taric's voice became gentle. 'It was discovered who did this to the squirrels. Couldn't stop my investigation.'

'Of course, still, even the bravest knight must have his time to rest.' The priest said. 'Come. Let me give you something for you to fill your stomach.'

They walked in the corridors, as some more acolytes passed by them, greeting with smiles. After passing through from an arch, they reached a small place. A long table with a jar of daisies, where bowls were laid. An overweight lady was lighting the candles on the middle of the table.

As she realised their presence, she walked to a door next to a blue banner with three half points star symbol, on the white walls. After waiting for a couple of minutes, the lady came with a bowl on a tray.

Not the most elaborate presentation, although Taric knew this place wasn't for any royalties. In his bowl, brown bread was placed next to mashed pies and three boiled eggs. In his food, he spotted a dark green liquid. On the table glass with a jar of red wine.

The priest smiled. 'Enjoy your meal.'

Carefully, Taric separated the eggs to mix the rest properly. A dark greenish colour formed on his bowl. Splitting the bread, a half, Taric grabbed a little of his mashed peas and placed an egg.

With his right hand, he chewed his food. The fresh herbs whirled in Taric's mouth, along with stock, sorrel and salt. Charming. The Knight smiled satisfied by the simplicity yet tasty meal.

'We really appreciate that you have been brought wounded animals.' The priest said as the Knight gave a sip of his wine. 'However, this will be the last time.'

'Why?'

'Sir Taric, you bring almost every single day new animals. Don't get me wrong it is nice once on a while, but almost every day is too much.'

'Too much is it? Does this mean that they don't deserve your attention anymore? Are you tired?'

'You have to understand Sir Taric that we are swamped—'

'And so am I training to make sure these poor creatures don't get in danger.' Taric cut the priest out. 'But do you see me around ignoring the situation?'

The priest looked with narrowed eyes in discontent. 'Look Sir Taric.' The old man took a deep breath, holding his hands firmly. 'It's perfectly normal to protect animals. However, more importantly, your king and your commanders need your assistance. And very recently there are rumours that a mage is hidden in the city ready to strike.'

Taric laughed. 'You are wrong.' Grabbing the spoon with food, the Knight chewed his meal. 'My men are powerful and capable of fighting themselves. Why do I need to help them in the first place?'

The priest looked in total shock. 'Surely you didn't mean that!'

'You have known me all this time. There's no way that you will be caught me lying. It's not me.' Taric winked. 'They train every day physically, weapon and duty wise. No doubt they will defend the king and the country with pride and honour.'

The priest's lips moved down like a grumpy grandfather that listened to his grandson lousy behaviour. 'This is unbelievable. So, what they said was true.'

'Who said it? And what they have said it?' Taric gave another sip.

'The rumours surrounding about you,' the priest took another deep breath as if what he will about to say was difficult to talk. 'Sir Taric.'

Taric patted the priest shoulders friendly as a smile escaped his lips. However, the priest reaction wasn't the happiest of all. His eyes aren't calm and kind anymore but rather austere in which reminded Knight's his father.

The old man pushed away Taric hands in an unpleasant manner. 'If your father would hear that, he will be very disappointed.' The priest pointed out in protest.

'But is it wrong? They are good soldiers—'

'On the contrary of you, Sir Taric, they are committed to their duty! They will sacrifice and die for their king and country—'

'As do I.' Taric finished his meal, as he gave the last ship. 'The royal family knows they can count on my protection.'

'Not with that attitude.' The priest said. 'For your best interest reflect on what you said. For your family's sake. For your own good and for Demacia.'

'My belly is full. The dinner was delicious.' Taric got up. They are all wrong. One day they will see. 'Thank you for your good service to my little friend.' Taric winked.

The priest stared at the Knight, not pleased. 'Are you mocking me, Sir Taric?'

'Me? Never.' Taric patted the priest's shoulders. 'And do not listen to what others say. It's all big jealously of my rank.'

As the Knight walked to the corridor, the priest passed through Taric. 'This is going to be your last day here, Sir Taric. The others are right. You are the wrong one. Seek guidance. Look at Her blessing to help your path.'

Instead of responding back Taric founded useless the effort, so he limited himself to wink friendly, as he reached to the nave's temple. Some people were inside sitting on the benches. Not just soldiers or generals but merchants, folks and the majority poor people.

The Protector statue was surrounded with daisies at her feet, far away from all the candles, which some people were lying. They may not accept you, but you will have my protection. Taric sat on a bench, laying the animal on his thighs. Sadly, you lost your ability to fly, but now you are safe warm. The response is no longer here to torment your kind. Taric opened Ezreal's journal.

The priest sat on a bench close to a group of a mother with her four children. As they saw him, they tried to mess with his white ropes. However, their mother, with her face red, pushed their belts in an attempt to control their behaviour. After all, they were in the presence of their Guardian.

The priest kindly, shook his head, gesturing her to leave her children wondering the place before the show could start. The mother lowered her head, as her body shivered like as sinner ready to confess the crimes. The priest patted her shoulder gently, listening to her laments.

As Taric is about to read Ezreal's journal in deep, the acolyte finished the arrangements on the temple. Another group of wooded acolytes dressed in white walked to the altar. On that instant, all the noises coming from people vanished like the wind. Those who were up to contemplate Her grace sat in silence.

Life is a mystery. A beauty that none of us will ever understand. Taric patted the sleepy squirrel's fur gently. Organising on the altar the acolytes looked the big crowd on the temple, they started singing.

As a champion of life, my curiosity will never end to understand the beauty and grace of it. My soul will commit to research any meaning of it. In harmony with the angelic voices glorifying the Protector, Taric began reading the adventurer's journal.

This is my oath.