Author's Note 1: This first note is an apology. It has been WAY too long since I updated. Part of the delay was from the general craziness of life and work. It happens. But most of it was from FE: Heroes. I have not put this game down since it launched. I'll probably put my friend information on my profile if anyone wants to add me. Feel free to chat with me about it as well. Honestly, I've spent more time writing strategies for my favorite characters than even thinking about creative projects.
Author's Note 2: I wish I could say that I'm satisfied with this chapter. ...but I'm not. I got stuck on it and had to walk away for a couple of weeks. It just felt...boring. And I still feel like it's that way. The plot will pick up next chapter because the Dawn Brigade will be getting more recruits and have a goal that's bigger than "don't die." But I'm really sorry for the slowness of this story. And the length. Dang. This chapter ended up being way too long. My bad.
Author's Note 3: I also apologize in advance for the angst. Apparently I have a problem.
From Dusk Until Dawn
Chapter 5: Conviction
She saw him, and he saw her for just a moment, each one of the most unassuming creatures the other could have imagined. He was the embodiment of a shadow shrinking as the light she emanated faded. He didn't run; he tried to remain stagnant, shrinking with the darkness into oblivion, avoiding the light... She thought at first that her mind conjured the metaphor to comprehend the figure before her, but the longer she watched him, the less tangible he became. And so did she. She reached out to touch him from behind, compelled to stroke his long dark hair by some inane childlike desire, but her hand passed through him, and he didn't seem to notice her touch. She could hear a voice speaking to her...or perhaps him, muffled as though it were trapped inside of a jar. It couldn't have been this shadow's. It rumbled low and deep, knocking against her from every which direction like a typhoon. Now the darkness was forcing her to shrink. The shadow turned, and Micaiah found herself trapped behind his ruby-red eyes, glowing like the pits of hell. Tears, just as red, fell down his cheeks, staining his hand as he caught them, but still a few leaked onto the ground. The earth soaked them up, demanding more, so tears of blood poured out from his heart as well.
All of the sudden, the world itself seemed to swallow him up. He screamed, and she reached for his hand. Much to her surprise, she caught it, and for the first time, he seemed to notice her. Sound didn't come from his mouth, but she didn't need to hear him, to know what he said.
Help me.
His fingers slipped through her grasp once more, and the earth claimed him, but she still felt his presence even in the void of silence that followed like a sigh before an episode of weeping. And she was awake once more.
But he wasn't so sure about himself.
He blinked, and she was gone. But he was still there. Still breathing. Still bleeding. Blood dripped from his forehead onto the parchment in his hands, and he brushed away another drop with the back of his hand, smearing it across this pale face.
"How much blood did you lose?" his companion asked, steadying his shoulders with two firm hands.
"I'm fine. How much did you lose?"
"No. I'm fine. I can afford to lose a bit. But you look like a ghost. If you'd stop being a stubborn numbskull for two minutes-"
"For you of all people to call me a stubborn numbskull...I must look dreadful." He held his hand to the gash on his forehead after more blood dripped into his eye. The stuff had matted his black hair against his forehead, leaving a crown of what appeared to be gore, sweat, and shadows. Using the sleeve of his robe, he applied pressure to the wound, forcing the parchment in his hands into his companion's. "They have no intention of killing me. But I have no idea what they would do to you."
"They're not going to do anything to either of us. You know I wouldn't let that happen."
"You can't always control the outcome of these things."
"Wow...for you of all people to tell me that… You must have hit your head harder than I thought."
"Stop it already." The smaller of the two drove a bony finger into his comrade's forehead, forcing the man's thick skull back just a few inches. Despite his bloodied hands, he retrieved his map and grimaced as his friend's face began to hover by his shoulder, breathing uncomfortably moist air into his personal space. The man's breath warmed him for only a moment before the cold air began to crystallize it, leaving him colder than before. His friend remained hovering for a moment before lowering his head over the smaller man's shoulder once more to get a good look at the parchment in his hands.
"The closest village looks like it's north," the larger of the two mumbled, jabbing a finger at a soggy clump of ink that could have been a group of homes. "We can go around the forest instead of through it and try to shake them that way."
"That will lead us too close to Gallia." The smaller man, wrinkled his nose, eyes glistening with resentment and fear. "If the smell of that place alone could kill us..."
"Then hold your breath. Easy enough solution. I don't feel like dying today because a little change in atmosphere 'bothers' you."
"Nothing seems ideal. Retreating may just cause trouble for the others. ...how many did you get in that last confrontation?"
"Four. You?"
"I got two and maybe wounded a third…Hm…" He squeezed his eyes shut tapping his fingers over the aged landscaped etched into their map. "If we find somewhere to wait for them, we could finish off the rest of them. Then..." No thoughts...he couldn't create enough of a spark inside of his skull to conjure one measly solution. Get over it. Think. "Th-Then…"
"Hey, are you-"
"That would leave seven...another four for you, and maybe three for me...it's not impossible perhaps..."
"I could make anything work, but I'm not sure about you. Did that sniper-"
He couldn't feel the map in his hand no matter how tightly he dug his fingers in. He reached a hand down his lower back, robes drenched with sweat, but it wasn't cold like the rest of him. Wet and sticky and uncomfortably warm… "They wouldn't have time to bother unless they had more allies hidden nearby…" The smaller man winced, blinking several times, the map growing more distant the more intensely he tried to stare at it. "L-Letting us slip away would be a less than ideal... No. They'll come for us no...no matter what..."
His companion patted his cheek, trying to bring out some color in it before wrapping an arm around him and urging him forward. "Let's walk and talk before you bleed out. Are you sure they didn't get you somewhere else?"
"Maybe you should let me sit...go find some help…"
"Hey...c'mon...none of that now. Shake it off. You're not allowed to sleep here."
"Tch...I'm not sleeping...I just need…to think…"
Uncomfortably warm and frightfully cold at the same time. He doubted there was such a thing as a peaceful death.
"You asleep, Micky?"
The young woman shuddered, shaking her head to prove to herself and Edward that she was in fact awake. The sun was just beginning to peek through the cloak of trees around them. Leonardo had been the only one to sleep and not of his own volition.
The Dawn Brigade.
"That's what everyone calls you," Laura continued, her work uninterrupted by Micaiah's dream. Despite hours of work, she still fussed over Leonardo's body, healing even minor scrapes and inquiring over old scars. He could breathe comfortably now, but the bruises around his neck had only darkened throughout the night. Laura paused, finding nothing new to fuss over aside from a few strands of hair out of place. "I'm not entirely sure why now that I think about it. I always assumed you had created the persona yourselves."
"We tossed around 'Micaiah's Harem' for a while," Edward admitted, his voice pinched despite the lifeless grin on his face. Nolan tossed him a canteen, and he took a grateful sip. "'Dawn Brigade' sounds a little conceited, don't ya' think?"
"'Brigade' has very few meanings beyond the obvious one, but symbolically and literally, 'dawn' could mean a number of things. Perhaps it's conceited, but it's also fitting considering what you folks are trying to do for us." She fell silent for a moment, running her fingers through the archer's hair. Her emotional and physical restraint stopped at her fingers. They danced erratically with her excitement and trembled with her sadness, but now they had stilled to mechanical rhythm. "I'm sorry to hear about your maiden. Word travels fast, and Daein shall mourn her loss with you."
"Thank you," Nolan said. For the past hour, his eyes hadn't left the somewhat unsteady rise and fall of the archer's chest. "At least we didn't lose another tonight…"
"Call me crazy, but I don't believe this is the last we've seen of the Maiden."
"Because of that...bird you followed out here?"
Flushed in the face, the priestess faltered, hands fiddling with the natural creases of her robes until she settled on an explanation. "I believe it was a vision. Religious sects have many texts about common priests and priestesses granted divine visions. But in this day and age, we're so disconnected from the divine realm that visions are unheard of. Well...there are obvious exceptions like Empress Sanaki. I suppose my dream could have been a dream, but it led me here regardless. That's worth something, isn't it?"
"What exactly did you see?" Micaiah asked, trying to keep her eyes open.
"Almost exactly what happened...except the bird was present. She led me out here to you, and she also promised that if I sided with the Dawn Brigade, I'd...find aid."
Nolan retrieved his canteen and took a swig as well, wiping a few droplets from the scruff in his beard. "We're not exactly in the best shape to be helping anyone but ourselves at the moment, as awful as that sounds…"
"Yes, I know, but perhaps I could explain myself in detail later once you've rested. Regardless of what you decide, I'll offer my services and try to see you to safety. Your friend here should awaken soon. And your missing companion should be arriving any minute now…" Her hands returned to Leonardo's hair once again, separating strands as if to braid it.
"Whoa wait!" Edward held up his hands even though Laura clearly wasn't going anywhere. "How'd you know we were down a man?"
"There was someone else in my dream, and he appeared to be friendly; however, the conversation following his appearance was a bit hostile. I suppose he could have been an enemy..."
"Hostile?" Micaiah might have said more, but the rustling of the bushes behind her stopped the thought from escaping.
A figure emerged, feet dragging behind it. It swayed in the dawn's gentle breeze which might have knocked it over had it been just a bit stronger. As it approached the dying embers of the fire, the light danced upon the shadows of Sothe's face, drawing them longer and darker than they probably should have been. He was soaked through, his clothes, hair, leaves, and blades of grass sticking to his skin. He stood before the group, waiting for someone to acknowledge his existence, and finally Micaiah rose.
"Where is she?"
"Some-..." His voice cracked. "-old friends took her."
"Ours? Hers? Yours?"
"Hers...and mine." He staggered a few steps before sinking down next to Nolan who offered him the mostly empty canteen. The rogue refused it.
"Hers? Yours?"
"Who're you?" Sothe looked towards the priestess and then down at Leonardo. "What happened to him?"
"My name is Laura. I'm a-"
"Leonardo found out what happens to prostitutes that decide to refuse service to Begnion soldiers," Edward muttered without bothering to look up at him. "You just...gave her away...after all of that?"
"I figured someone who knew her a little better could bury her. Look, I spent the night lugging a corpse around. I don't want to hear it. I could only carry the extra weight for so long. But I think I lured the guards away far enough at least."
"She wasn't 'extra weight.' She was someone's daughter and friend! You could have-"
"No, I couldn't. I tried. Believe me, but I have my limits. Just like the rest of you. She'll get a proper burial somewhere nice. We just won't give it to her."
"Did you know her?" Micaiah asked. Sothe didn't answer. "Is this how you planned to handle the situation? Did you ask her to do this for us?"
"It wasn't like that, Micky…"
"Then what was it like, Sothe?!"
"If I may-" For a moment, Laura's voice was finally louder than the drop of a pin. "I may not understand the situation, but we could perform a small memorial to honor her. Arguing won't change the fact that she's gone, and a memorial isn't the same as burial, but perhaps it will help put your hearts to rest."
The tension remained on Sothe as he rested his head in his hands. Nolan stood, pushed Micaiah down with one hand, and picked the rogue up by the shoulder. "Let's walk. Now."
The rogue hung limp at the axeman's mercy, still swaying in the breeze. He was urged forward and then dragged off into the fading shadows of the night. Nolan let the silence fester and grow until the rogue's feet refused to propel him further anymore. He held him at arm's length, hands squeezing his shoulders until he squirmed underneath the growing pressure, but he wasn't strong enough to tear himself away. He didn't want to. This much, he deserved.
"Just yell. Do it. I screwed up."
"You're not all right, Sothe. I may not be happy, but that's not your fault. I care about Daein, but you boys and Micky, you're...not something I can replace. I've tried that before, and let me tell you, it doesn't work. The goddess makes one of us, and that's all we get. When you lose someone close to you, your heart just scars over, and it may seem all right after a while, but that's not fixing it. One of these days, my old heart won't be able to mend itself anymore… So you tell me what's wrong."
His legs finally gave out. Nolan was the only thing holding him up, and he allowed the two of them to kneel on the forest poured from the young man's eyes onto the ground. The earth hungrily lapped them up until Nolan reached a gloved hand across his cheeks to catch them.
"I can still smell her," he muttered. "I washed my hands...I washed everything, but I can still smell her. C-Can you, Nolan?"
"...did you know her?"
"A contact. ...Julia. She said she'd help out. She'd draw them away. We could get to Crimea or Begnion...She'd be fine. I thought she'd be fine. She wasn't supposed...supposed to…"
"Sometimes things go wrong." Too wrong. So wrong. They could lose everything. They had lost everything. That's why they were here, but sometimes they weren't prepared to deal with that feeling again when it came around. And that beast always reared its ugly head again. "You can't do this on your own. That's why the rest of us are here. You're smart, and we need you, but you need us too."
"I-I know…" Sothe looked like he wanted to say more, but he wasn't worthy enough to continue. His mouth hung open, gasping for air, for intelligible words, but none would come. "I still smell her."
"No more secrets, Sothe."
Nothing.
"Sothe?" Still nothing. He pulled the young man into his embrace and let him sob.
Secrets. Micaiah shivered, watching the men as still as shadows in the middle of the forest. The morning breeze should have been comforting. She thought she had seen the sun for a bit, but it was gone now like always as of late. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen a dawn. Maybe that was why the people had given them that name-they needed something to looking forward to in the morning instead of this grey dullness that choked the warmth out of the country. Or maybe they liked the mystery… She hated it. Secrets. Those were what made them weak...divided…
She saw Sothe make eye contact with her for just a moment, but he didn't see her, not really. He didn't see anything but his own sorrow...those girl's eyes… The noble half of her wanted to forgive him, but the human half wasn't ready. She found it was a bitter, monstrous creature. It writhed inside of her, wanting to cut him with its tongue and watch him bleed out. She hated this side of her, but it was the thing that made her feel normal.
Well...except for secrets. But her secrets scared her more than anything else.
When Leonardo awakened, he had no idea where he was. And when he tried to breathe, his lungs burned. Cold, exposed, vulnerable… He was a boy again, meeting that young woman at night in the empty halls of the barracks, sickeningly beautiful. Her hands had been ice on his skin, but they were also soft. Despite their sting, he could at least pretend they had been pleasant. But that man…
"Please...don't move yet. I'm not finished-"
That woman. He had never imagined that soft hands could hurt quite so much. On his throat...his chest...his lips...
"Don't touch me," he rasped, slapping away the unfamiliar hand. He forced himself to sit up, blushing as a blanket fell away and exposed his chest. "Where are my clothes?"
"Ah…"
He pulled the blanket back up over his bareness and stared down the stranger. The poor girl seemed unsurprised at his hostility, but she couldn't stop fidgeting for some odd reason. She leaned back in a chair, folding her hands into her lap where she tapped them against her legs. "If I can explain myself, that might put you at ease; however, you'd have to believe me. I told your friends you would have been more comfortable waking up to one of their faces."
"I don't have to do any such thing," Leonardo answered coldly. "But I'll listen and judge your truthfulness for myself."
"That's fair enough. Unfortunately, we don't live in a world where we can give our trust away so freely." Taking a deep breath, she started with a smile that was so genuine, it made him uncomfortable. "My name is Laura. I'm a priestess, and you and your friends are guests at the abbey I work at. I don't know the circumstances surrounding your injuries or the events leading up to our meeting, but you've been unconscious for about half a day...on and off. You awakened for a little bit, but I can see you don't remember that."
"Where are my friends?"
"My...village is in trouble. The abbot is sick, and the soldiers have requisitioned a lot of our resources, so I can't take care of him. And...well...we need-"
"I hate to be frank, but I'd prefer it if you told me where my friends were before you rambled. It makes me wonder if they're even alive..."
"Oh of course! Forgive me. They're very much alive the last time I checked. Your friends agreed to try and procure some medicine from Begnion's storage...just enough to help get the abbot out of his slump. I know it's wrong to ask someone to steal on my behalf, but I've tried reasoning with the soldiers. I know they're in need just like we are...but there doesn't seem to be a middle ground we can meet on…"
"They're greedy bastards. They want what they want because they're big and scary enough to take it. There's no other reason at this point. They know they're hurting me...us...you." He reached a hand up to his head as if to soothe away a headache.
"Now...not all of them are terrible. It may not seem like it, but I think they're scared of something. They remind me of cornered dogs in a way…"
"You're right about that dog part at least…"
"Regardless, your friends should be returning soon.. I insisted they rest a bit more before they went off on a mission, but they wanted to be prepared to leave as soon as you awakened. Sothe seemed to think it wouldn't be a difficult task."
"He would think that…" Leo sat up straighter, his whole body aching. Why should it ache? He'd been through training more gruesome than that before. He had taken his share of beatings. He wasn't dead. Maybe it was because he knew they were sitting in a hive of soldiers just looking for them. It could happen again, and next time he wouldn't be so lucky. At the very least, he still had his trousers, so he was comfortable pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. "And you helped some strangers you found wandering about…"
"If we can't trust in the kindness of others, we live in dark times indeed. It may not be the wisest approach to life, but I choose to believe there's enough good left to help others even with the risk of getting hurt myself." She reached a hand out of her lap and rubbed it gently, the soft flesh still red from where he had slapped her.
"Unfortunately, at this point in time, I would rather be safe than kind." He dipped his head in apology. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You're forgiven. Yet I find it strange that that's your philosophy, and you still choose this life. If you would rather be safe, wouldn't you be better off running away to Crimea or Begnion?"
"I didn't say my friends shared the same philosophy. I still don't think our approach is very wise, but it's all we have. The only resources we have are what we've learned or can learn. It's not much, but we use what we're given or can take."
Laura rose, stepping towards the window to open the shutters. Her hands lingered on the dried wood, still tapping out a strange yet cheerful rhythm. No light poured through, but the air was almost warm and fragrant with the crispness of dried leaves. When she turned back, her unnerving smile had returned. "I'm not sure I believed in the concept of noble bandits until today, but that's most definitely what you are. I have a good feeling about all of this."
"How so?"
"I can't explain it...at least not yet. Words don't always work the way you'd like them to. That's something the abbey tends to teach people. But I've already talked enough. Let me get you some food. You're in rather good shape if you ask me, not quite as thin as your friend, but a warm meal won't kill you."
"No. I suppose it won't."
Her optimism ached more than any bump or bruise on his body. If their past endeavors were anything to guide him by, this would end badly. The next time someone made a mistake, someone would die.
You screwed up.
You'll screw up again.
This won't make it right.
I should have let you die.
Sothe wasn't sure what voice he was hearing. Sometimes it sounded like his own, but something distorted it, leaving traces of every companion he had ever traveled with. But somehow the tone always ended with a deep rumble, stern and heavy just like the war. The rogue knew that he of all people would be disappointed. He would never ask a friend to make such a sacrifice...or allow it to happen by accident.
"Wake up already," Edward muttered, shaking the thief by the shoulder. "Micky's gonna start that fire any second now. We've gotta be ready to get in and out. If you're gonna zone out, I'm going in alone."
"You know that Nolan said-"
"Yeah yeah. But I'd rather go in alone than risk having to drag your sorry butt out of there. I've got my limits too, and trust me. I won't be able to drag you far enough to-"
"Shut up." Sothe squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at the bags. It should have been you. That's all Edward's eyes said. He didn't want to look at them a moment longer. Nolan was right. He should have tried to sleep before this. But it wouldn't have worked. Her smell would keep him up.
"Fine. She did it." Edward's voice was flat. But they could both taste smoke on the wind. It billowed above the trees, drawing the attention of three guards that paced about a small shack in desperate need of repairs. They looked towards each other for a moment, not a single one of them wanting to take the charge until finally a man with hair as dark as blood began to bark out profanities.
"Move or I make sure you never move again!" One well-placed jab from his spear narrowly missed permanently blinding the smallest of the three men.
None of them needed a second warning. They scrambled into action, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye. Edward shrunk down into the foliage, waiting for the man to leave as well, but as the seconds passed, he stayed, pacing, mumbling to himself. His sharp eyes darted past their hiding place a few times locking onto anything that moved.
"Crap…" Sothe started to draw a dagger, but the swordsman stopped him.
"I'll draw him away. You just take what we need and go." He was already on his feet, ready to run off when the rogue caught him by the shirt and pulled him back down. "Sothe, we don't have time for this. Either you do it or-"
"No. Look at that armor." He raised a shaking finger and traced the man's outline with it. The size of his pauldrons alone should have been a good indication of his ego. "Magenta. He's got a rank. Maybe not a very high one, but you don't get promoted in Begnion without skill. Money gets you pretty far in the Senate but not the military. You might be faster, but if he catches you, he'll skewer you. Or worse."
"I won't fight fair."
"Neither will he. We'll go around him."
"There's not any time for this. Once the others realize that Micaiah and Nolan aren't-"
"Then go. I'll handle him." This wasn't any different than the war, he assured himself. His knives had seen the skin of soldiers' throats more than he would have liked to recall. But this one wasn't the starving lackey pressured or forced into the service of the Mad King. His eyes shone with the same playful malice he had seen on the face of the Ashnard himself.
"But-"
"Just go. I'll buy you five minutes." He had pulled himself into a tree and disappeared before Edward had the chance to protest. The swordsman wasn't sure the rogue was even still in the area until a knife flew from a tree and lodged itself in the back of the man's leg. He howled, the playfulness in his eyes completely extinguished by razing fire. As a second one flew for his chest, simply bouncing off his armor, his eyes locked onto the shadow slinking away through the treetops.
"Well then… Someone finally wants to play. You had better be gone by time I return with his head. Or you'll be joining him."
Edward couldn't move. The man's gaze hadn't shifted from Sothe's position, but every word was meant for him. He held his sword in his lap, refusing to breathe until the man had limped out of view. He counted a full minute until his legs agreed to work once more, staggering across the open area to the shed. The lock fell away with a well-placed kick, and he slipped inside.
"Don't you dare do something stupid, Sothe."
Stop, and he'll kill you. That should make up for it.
It will be nice and slow.
He'll make sure you feel every second of it right until you die.
Imagine how it felt for her.
Sothe's foot slipped, but he managed to catch himself. The man's armor slowed him down significantly as he tore through the underbrush, screaming profanities at the young man. The rogue had already failed once, and if he let himself get caught, he'd fail again. However, if he stayed too far ahead, he might grow bored of the chase and return to find Edward… There were only so many times the goddess could forgive mistakes by giving second chances. And he'd made enough mistakes in the past year alone to get him a death sentence.
But dying would just cause more complications in the long run. They'd be down a man. The others could come looking for his body. He'd get someone else hurt.
Keep breathing. Keep breathing. He forced himself higher into the trees and waited, watching below until the man thundered past him. This was far enough. He had to keep him here. He readied another dagger between his teeth and jumped down, landing on the man's back with enough force to knock him down. He grabbed him by his hair as he attempted to recover and slammed his face down into the ground, angling the blade of his dagger at his throat. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't gut you right now?" he growled through clenched teeth.
The man laughed, his body tense even through his armor even, though something about his voice was eerily calm. It wrapped around Sothe like a snake and squeezed just enough to make his stomach turn. The man pushed himself up a bit by his arms, but Sothe's grip forced him to a halt. "Because I won't let you, you filthy dog. The day I let something like you finish me off, is the day I deserve to die."
"Maybe today's that day." His voice cracked and the man's lips twisted into a cruel smile.
"You're still a pathetic child. I thought so. Begnion has been letting glorified orphans run rampant. We should have emptied the orphanages when we had a chance. Fewer mouths to feed. Fewer problems festering. Maybe that's something I can arrange once I've handled you and your friends."
Sothe smashed his fist into the side of the man's head, shutting him up for just a second. "The only problem here is you. I'd learn to hold my tongue before someone cuts it out."
"You seem to forget. I did take your Maiden from you. But then again, I'm beginning to wonder if I've even accomplished that. I half expected a goddess incarnate after hearing some of the stories about her. But instead, I got a common whore. She cried far too much to be a noble savior for anyone. And you wouldn't believe the things she offered to keep her life." He relaxed against Sothe's grip, comfortably resting his neck against Sothe's blade. "I'd love to know what you did with the body…"
Sothe swung his fist again, but this time the man rolled over, swinging his own fist into Sothe's jaw. It connected forcing the young man onto his back. He barely rolled out of the way in time to avoid being skewered. The man stabbed at him again, and this time Sothe returned to the trees.
"Do you think hiding will keep you safe forever? I'll hunt down you and the rest of your urchin friends, and I'll string you up from the castle gates. No one crosses the Empire."
Higher. Get higher.
He doubted the man could climb in his armor even if it wasn't quite as full as a standard knight's, but if he stayed here long enough, reinforcements would come. However if he engaged him, he would die. Aside from a small limp, he apparently hadn't done enough damage to hinder his ego. He just needed to keep him away from Edward for as long as possible. Suddenly, he wished it was dark.
"How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen? Maybe eighteen at most? I'm sure that matters about as much to you as it does to me. I know what it's like to be young, ready to change things. But the only people who get to change things are those with friends in high places. And let me tell you, the pretty birds high up in their nests don't care to make friends with the foxes lurking down below."
The man turned, a rustling in the trees drawing his attention. He probably would have charged had a dagger not lodged itself in his hand. His lance clattered to the ground right as Sothe swung down once more, slamming both feet into the man's face, completely satisfied with the crunch underneath his boots. "I don't care to change things. Daein can burn in hell, but I'm going to make sure you join it."
The man reached his unbloodied glove across his face to dab at the blood dripping from his nose, seemingly unfazed by it. "Have at me, pup." Sothe swung another kick, but this time the man caught it in one hand, twisting it with the flick of a wrist. The rogue had to twist it further to slide out of his grasp, something popping. Something bad. He could put his weight on it but not for very long.
"I thought I should return the favor. That ought to keep you from running off. Now let's see what I can do about those hands…"
Sothe wasn't fast enough to stop him from retrieving his weapon. He decided to prioritize guarding himself, whipping out two daggers to catch the lance as it flew towards his chest. He didn't hold the parry for longer than a few seconds, throwing both of his arms up to force the man to move with him. He followed up, lashing out with his foot, only for his ankle to meet the cold metal shaft of the man's lance. This time, he was forced to move at the man's whims, flipping back until he was trapped between a wall of trees and the man's form. He tried to jump to grab onto a low-hanging branch, but the man's lance swiped at his arms, forcing him to stay grounded. His escape plans thwarted, the rogue was forced to guard again, his daggers barely keeping the man's lance inches away from his throat.
Move.
He held his breath and relaxed his grip, ducking under the lance's tip as it dug itself into a tree. He went for his legs jabbing at the still leaking wound from before until the man howled again. As he flailed about, trying to right himself, the rogue dug his knee into the man's groin and his elbow into his throat, pinning him to the ground. His dagger fell towards his head once more, but the man caught it with his gauntlet. Another punch sent his weapon flying. Crap. He dug his knee in harder until the man screamed, until his cries turned into a forced laughter that made Sothe shiver.
With mechanical precision, the man grabbed the rogue by the shirt pulled him down so their heads clashed. Sothe tasted blood, and he wasn't sure if it was is own or not. The man's fingers dug into the rogue's skin, not quite enough to leave a mark, at least a physical one.
Leverage. You have leverage. Use it.
He couldn't find his dagger, so he jammed both of his thumbs into the man's eyes. That was enough to get him free. He scrambled backwards, crawling to his feet. The man had barely sat up when Sothe found his way back into the trees. That was enough. If he tried to finish him, he might not be able to return. He darted in the direction opposite of the fire blazing in the distance. If that wasn't enough time for Edward, the swordsman was out of luck.
Dying is easy. It just takes a moment. One mistake. Maybe two if you're lucky.
His foot slipped again, forcing him to a halt as he clung to a branch for dear life. Breathe. Keep breathing.
You could have killed him.
He could have killed you.
Micaiah doesn't want you.
But she needs you…
Maybe.
Leonardo finally saw himself in the mirror. Everything was where it needed to be, but he couldn't recognize himself through the shadows still wrapped around his neck. It was like that man was still there. The bruises started at his brow and streaked down the side of his face like a caress that ended with rings, both of his hands, around his neck.
"They'll go away," Laura assured him. "...I'm sorry someone hurt you like that."
"It's nothing I haven't experienced before," he muttered as he fitted his belt into place. "I appreciate the concern however."
"I've noticed that the highborn have more issues than the rest of us combined. You lot are just better at concealing your problems...for the most part."
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about me as though you knew me. I could be highborn. I could be an urchin. Assumptions are dangerous, Sister."
"It's a good assumption. You speak far too formally to be an urchin...but I'll try to watch myself in the future."
Suddenly, cheers erupted from down the hall, and Laura jumped towards the door, throwing it open. Another priestess took her arm, speaking so quickly that it might have well been in tongues. "Yes, it's them!" Laura translated. "I have to go, but I'll tell them you're awake! Do you plan to come greet them?"
"I'll be out shortly. Thank you."
Laura left in a flurry of white, priests and priestesses alike emerging from every crack in the old building. He waited for them to pass before stepping into the hall, trying to stay ten paces behind the cheers. Despite the growing crowd, he finally spied his group at the abbey's entrance, carrying a bag filled with much more than just medicine for the abbott. They had likely cleaned out a good portion of the storage. And the guards had been too busy looking for a missing body to bother with their normal routine.
Edward saw him, and in a flash, he was gone, weaving through the pious crowd. When he reemerged, he threw himself at the archer, arms wrapped around his body, and they both crashed to the ground. It hurt. Almost more than the assault. He thought for a moment that the swordsman might tear him to shreds, and that's why it hurt. The doubt.
"You look like a walking corpse," the swordsman admitted once he was certain the blow hadn't killed his friend. "Just a little better than Sothe. You scared us…"
"I was scared too..."
"But we're all fine. Tired, but fine."
"Does that mean we're leaving now?"
"You'd think that...but no. We...probably need to, but Sothe's dead on his feet, and the old man's back is killing him. Apparently, you shouldn't take a dive like he did past the age of 30. So we'll probably stay a few hours at least. The 'new guy' doesn't sense anything off kilter, but this place will be crawling with soldiers in no time."
"The new guy…?" Edward winked, and suddenly the archer remembered. Micaiah was dead. For now. "Can you...get off of me?"
"I don't know. I thought we might stay like this for a while and enjoy ourselves."
"Okay, dingbat. Get off." He shoved his elbow into his friend's chest.
"That's more like it! Assert yourself!"
A feast seemed particularly foolish after the trouble the group went through to procure supplies for the abbey. Nolan reasoned with the clergy, and eventually settled the priests settled on just a warm meal and beds as a reward. That was more than they had had in a long time. Meanwhile, he had to try to keep his boys away from all of the pretty priestesses who seemed a little too interested in them for their own good. Or the good of their vows.
Micaiah was grateful for the meal, but it hadn't sat well with her. Maybe she had just grown used to feeling empty. The abbey seemed too warm, and it was for that reason that she felt unwelcome. She wasn't allowed to be somewhere so inviting. Not for very long. The cold of the evening didn't seem as bitter as it had been in the past, but she still found herself shivering as she stared down the road. No danger. She sensed nothing, but she still expected it.
She heard footsteps and jumped, fists raised for a brawl.
"Peace...I didn't mean to startle you."
"Laura...I was just getting some fresh air…"
"I thought so. I was beginning to think that you simply liked the cold. I don't mind it myself all that much." She walked right up next to the mage and pointed out at the distance. "The view is prettier that way. My little village isn't very famous, but I think it should be, especially this time of year."
"Why is that?"
"Well, nothing's dead quite yet, so we can still enjoy the colors of autumn. We always get a bit of mist after cloudy days. It's strangely lovely. Or perhaps living here has given me a fondness of the macabre."
"I wouldn't mind seeing it." Micaiah offered the young woman a smile. It was so strange finding someone so mature yet child-like at the same time.
"Then I'll reveal to you the true motivation behind my invitation." She took Micaiah's wrist and tugged her down the road into the woods.
"Do you plan to turn me over to Begnion?"
"Nothing quite so treacherous. This is embarrassing to admit, but I don't know your name. You might have introduced yourself, but I can't seem to remember. Everything happened so quickly..."
"I probably didn't. I'm sorry. I erm…" She hadn't discussed this with the boys. She hadn't even thought this through herself. "Everyone calls me Micky."
"Now that I seem to recall. And your Maiden's name was Micaiah? That must have been confusing."
"My name is...a complicated thing. All my life, people have given them to me. I've been told that names are earned. I can't take one for myself. Part of me still believes that. But her name is one I haven't been able to part with quite yet. It's one I gave myself. And here I am with the opportunity to take a new one, and I find that I can't do it."
"You must have been close to her."
"I'm not sure I really even knew her that well. I like to think that I could be like her… Or at least what people thought of her."
"Not if you didn't know her very well." Laura giggled and stuck out her hand for Micaiah to take. "It's a pleasure to meet you Micky. Thank you and your friends for everything."
Micaiah took the girl's hand and squeezed it hard as Nolan usually did when he greeted someone. They then continued their walk until they reached a fork in the road. Behind them, they could still see the abbey through the trees but just barely. A bit of fog had crept in around them like ghosts.
"Maybe it isn't beautiful. But I like it."
"It's beautiful in its own way. Everything has its own beauty and worth. It's difficult to place a value on things like that."
"But we still find a way."
They stood in silence for a long while, watching the mist creep in until everything was white. Not grey. She wasn't sure if she preferred this or not. But Laura thought it was beautiful, and Laura was beautiful, and Micaiah needed to enjoy more beautiful things in the world while they lasted. She wanted the beauty again, the ability to place such a superficial value on things...like normal folks.
"Were you related to the maiden by chance?" Laura asked, her voice small. "This may be a silly assumption. But I just...I have this strange feeling..."
"Laura...I…" Secrets killed. But this was dangerous too. They would all die. This would be the end. "We should return. I'd like to sleep."
"Then goodnight," a low voice hissed.
Not Laura's voice. Micaiah turned and swung a fist blindly. It connected with something. A jaw. She felt saliva as her fingers crunched against skin and bone. But something else connected with her head first. The sharp pain blinded her for a moment, and she stumbled back, Laura's hands trying to steady her as she screamed. They wouldn't hear her. Micaiah swung again, but this time she missed and a second blow to the head sent her sprawling to the ground.
More darkness.
Author's Note 4: If you made it this far. Thank you for reading. I know I still have a lot to improve upon as a writer, so I always appreciate comments and critiques. I've started a small list of words and phrases I'm not going to let myself use in the next chapter. I rely on them way too much. If anyone also has any advice for writing fight scenes as well, I'd definitely love to hear it. They're quite possibly my least favorite thing in the world to write.
