Chapter Two: The Demon Returns
Phillipe: Are you flesh, or are you spirit?
Isabeau: I am sorrow.
- Ladyhawke
Milly Ashford stared out the window of her solar, completely ignoring her needlework in favor of thought. The past days had been a whirlwind of activities, first with the affair of Marianne's death and then the arrival of Captain Gottwald later in the evening. Milly had only known that he had been at Ashingford because of the gossip coming from the servants. Captain Gottwald had left early in the morning, chasing after the fugitive he had been set on like a dog. The corner of Milly's mouth twitched up at the thought. That's all that the guards of Avalon were used for anymore, ceremonies and fetching.
Not that her guards were any better. Her own father had been caught up in the heady power that they had as well as the ideas from Pendragon. Milly's grandfather would have never allowed such a display before. There had been a certain decorum to Ashingford then, which was probably led to its current state. Maybe her father was desperate enough to do anything to gain more money. It was the entire basis for her continued engagement for Earl Asplund, the one that looked to be continued indefinitely. At least that left her free to do as she wanted.
Milly sighed and looked down at her needlework before putting it aside. Her mother wouldn't be checking on her, she was too busy looking into other marriages or trips to Pendragon, endless schemes to get more money. Milly was free to do as she wished. And what she wished to do was investigate why Jeremiah and the guards from Avalon had run after a fugitive on the day when they should have been looking after Avalon and the executions.
She walked from the room, heading for the gates that would take her to the town. The rumors had spread quickly through the castle; Milly knew the best way to listen to the people. She could get all her news from them and be better informed then some of the others. As of now, she only had a name. Rivalz Cardemonde. Milly had known of someone by that name who had worked around the palace. The town would give her more information.
Milly tapped her finger against her lips as she walked. Rivalz Cardemonde and a thief. It wasn't much, but it was a start. If she remembered correctly, there was a Cardemonde who lived close by. Going for a walk for from the castle to the parts of the town that had spilled past the castle walls would require guards. Her mother was always nervous around this time of year.
A few people bowed as she passed, Milly waving at them but too distracted to do more. Her attention was on one of the houses in the row. From what she remembered, the Cardemondes lived there. If not, then she could always ask for directions.
She knocked on the door, jumping when she heard a clatter from inside. Milly leaned back as she heard someone rush to the door, trying not to waver as the door was thrown open.
"Have you heard anything about-Oh." The woman quickly curtsied. "Apologies, my lady. I thought you had news of my son."
"Rivalz?" The way that the woman tensed told Milly everything. She took a step forward. "It would be best if we discussed this inside."
The woman nodded and stepped aside, allowing Milly into the small home. Despite its simplicity, the home looked well lived in but clean. Milly gave the inside a quick look over before turning her attention to the women, surprised when the woman stared at the ground instead of her.
"My lady, you have to understand that things have been desperate for us for a long while. Rivalz wouldn't have done it otherwise, he's a good boy. He's just trying to help me out. It has been a hard couple of years."
"It has been for all of us." Milly glanced over at the wall, taking notes of the cracks there. The peasants were feeling the squeeze more than the nobles were. It was still no excuse for stealing, but chasing after a thief because he had escaped was a bit much. Something smelled like an interesting story and Milly wanted to chase it to the end. This kind of excitement rarely came to the north.
She touched the woman's arm, feeling her start. Milly smiled, trying to calm her. "I'll look into this, I promise. Considering his crime, he shouldn't be pursued like this. And I will speak to my father about the state of our estate. Winter will be on us fast."
The woman sputtered out her thanks. Milly smiled and backed out of the house, a plan already forming in her head. While she enjoyed the parties and extravagance as much as the next girl, she would prefer to have a secure future rather than a crumbling castle. Her grandfather had taught her to have more pride than that. Planning for the future was more important than keeping up with the fashions of Pendragon in the vain hope that their family would come back into favor.
In any case, a journey to Avalon wouldn't be amiss. She had kept far away from the castle for far too long, letting their good terms with the vi Britannia family go stale. Politely exiled from Pendragon or not, it was always good to be on good terms with parts of the royal family. Besides, Milly had always liked Lady Marianne and she adored Nunnally. Perhaps she would be able to strike up a friendship with Nunnally again. Avalon would be the first place to start to figure out what was happening with Rivalz.
It all sounded like good fun and, perhaps, it would be. Milly sighed and looked up at the walls of castle. She suddenly felt slightly claustrophobic. It was beyond the time that she stopped hiding behind the walls and went out; no one else was going to do it.
She walked into the courtyard of the castle, waving for the stable master as he crossed the yard. "Hunter, I'll need my horse, and an escort to keep my mother happy. I think it would be a good time to meet with Lady Nunnally."
"As you wish, my lady."
Milly nodded and walked into the castle. She would get the rest of the preparations over with quickly, she was already a day behind the Avalon guards, and it was a full day's ride to Avalon. If she did to leave within the day, she would be riding into Avalon late at night, still even more behind. She would have to work patiently, Milly sure that the people in Avalon would keep her in suspense. And there would be some fun in that, almost like a mystery.
Milly smiled to herself, nearly skipping down the hallways. She was very aware that a man's life was on the line, which was something that she would not forget. But, if she lingered on the thought for too long then she would get angry. There was one thing that she had learned from the endless parties that her father hosted, no one responded well to anger. It was far better to charm people into helping you. Milly was good at the job she had appointed herself; to apply charm to ease their family along. It was about time for her to use it.
Jeremiah looked back over his shoulder at the shout from the riders behind him. He watched as the rider came up the line, his horse sweating and lathered. He had sent scouts out earlier, hoping to catch something of the fugitive. They were already two days behind, but they had the advantage of horses and eyes everywhere. The people of Avalon and Ashingford would do anything to turn in a rogue magician. They knew the law as well as anyone.
The villages to the west had already gotten the news from the bells of Avalon. He and his guards would just follow the sound of the news until the fugitive was found. And they knew that he would run west, the east held nothing but old enemies for Britannia; uncivilized heathens all of them.
Jeremiah snorted, guiding his horse and around a sinkhole in the ground. Charles and Marianne had safeguarded the border until their deaths. He had once had high hopes for Lelouch before he had realized Lelouch's treachery. Jeremiah just wished that Lelouch had kept far away from magic. Then the line of Marianne could have been the defenders of the border. Jeremiah had no doubts that Nunnally could be just as great.
She wouldn't be a leader in the field, an adjustment for him to get used to after years of riding into battle with his commanders. She would be just as great, if Bishop Calares stopped whispering in her ear. He was ruining her with all of his machinations and posturing. Calares wanted power, that much was evident, and grasping for it at the expense of Avalon was something that he would not tolerate.
"Captain!" He turned in his saddle, watching as the rider slowed to a walk beside his own horse. The guard saluted quickly. "I've ridden out and could not find the fugitive, but there were signs that he had passed."
"Never trust the word of the common people."
"I remembered that, so I've been looking out a bit myself. All the information had him heading out west. A group of children saw him steal a bundle of clothes. This group was close to the village Beststone, the only thing resembling a village between here at the mountains. I think his plan is to go to the mountains."
Jeremiah nodded slowly, thinking the information over carefully. Heading for the mountains would be the smartest route of escape. Jeremiah wouldn't risk his guards in the mountains with winter on the way. As of now, they only had enough supplies for a quick trip. They would swing north then, try and get in front of him at the village. It would be their initial plan, the plan that he wanted to work. If they failed, then Jeremiah would have to plan out one more strategy, a longer one that would keep him away from Nunnally that much longer. For the sake of Avalon's reputation, Jeremiah would run the risk.
"Kewell," the rider saluted, "continue to scout. We will meet you in Beststone."
Kewell saluted and rode off again, Jeremiah slowing to watch him. If he guessed right, they would make Beststone by midday. The fugitive wouldn't make it to the village by late afternoon. It would present him with the chance to rest his men, something they needed after riding hard for nearly two days. The fugitive was sure to run and it would be better with fresh horses.
He held up a fist to signal a halt, turning his horse to face the ten guards that remained by his side. He looked them over with a smile. All of them were loyal men, most of them good pureblood men from the heartland of Britannia. All of them had come north with Charles vi Britannia to help in Avalon. Jeremiah would have taken all of them over any of the guards who had been born and bred on Avalon lands. They probably would have let the fugitive go because he was one of them.
Jeremiah tugged at his horse's reins to get the animal to stand. "We ride for Beststone, and we can rest there. We'll set up a trap for our little fugitive. He is not going to slip away from us. We have the glory of Avalon, even more so, Britannia resting on our shoulders. We will suffer no magician to live."
That got a cheer from the men. Jeremiah turned his horse and spurred it into a gallop. There was a whoop as the rest of the guard followed him. He would give them a moment to settle before asking for quiet. There was still a chance that they would run into the fugitive on the way. Jeremiah could never be sure of where fugitives would run, they didn't follow the normal patterns. For all he knew, the fugitive could be just a few miles ahead on the road. Or, Jeremiah looked off to his left at the encroaching forest, the fugitive could be running through the woods. Jeremiah wouldn't risk his men in the woods, not when he wasn't sure of the fugitive's motives.
Jeremiah smiled and leaned over to urge his horse on. He would deliver the captive to Nunnally and have his guards advertise it as such. Calares would be stopped with that and it would be one less power grabbing bishop in the world. Let the bishops flaunt their power in Pendragon and the heartland of Britannia where they were safe. The north needed men that were made of stronger stuff. Jeremiah wanted to be sure that he was that stronger man.
Perhaps, if he did well enough for Nunnally, he would be rewarded with his own parcel of land. With his own land and a woman from Pendragon, a noble woman, he would secure his family name, And he would tie his family to Marianne's, make sure that they could never be parted. That was the kind of strength that the north needed. The bishop with his words of a vengeful god or his fear of magic wouldn't be able to provide that strength. A north full of bishops would just bring everything crashing down; which was why the almighty had created men like him, men of action.
Rivalz stumbled along the road into the village, one hand resting on his stomach in a weak attempt to stop it from growling. He hadn't managed to eat since his second day of freedom when he had managed to steal some bread. Rivalz had felt bad about stealing food from the local people, but he had managed to quell that guilt. He needed to survive, more than anything else Rivalz kept telling himself that. He had to survive for his mother. But there had been times, more moments, when he had wanted to live for himself.
It hurt him to admit that fact; that he was living for something other than his mother. He had been helping his mother for as long as he could remember. It felt good to have a moment just for himself, even if it was just filled with worry about his life.
He would go back to his mother, Rivalz just needed to wait until it was safe. And there was a limit to his time on the run. One winter in and out on the edge of the mountains and then he would return to Ashingford. Maybe they would have to leave again, but Rivalz would ask his mother what she wanted first. If she wanted to remain in Ashingford, then he would and find his own way again.
Another growl made him groan, Rivalz distracted from his thoughts. He came to a stop, staring at the village in front of him. He wasn't sure how far northwest he was, but there were very few villages left. He could bypass the village entirely and try his luck in the forest. He would be safer in the forest, but Rivalz was sure that he wouldn't be as successful in the time that he needed food. The village would have food that he could buy, and he would have enough to store in the meantime. It wasn't too hard to make his decision.
Rivalz stumbled back down the road, smiling as he walked into the village. He immediately sought out the nearest tavern, navigating mostly by smell. He was surprised to find most of the business going on outside, the owner probably just taking advantage of the last nice days before winter.
He glanced around at the patrons, assuring himself that he was safe. The bells of Avalon had rung days ago and no one would connect them with his appearance. He was just another weary traveler on the road. Satisfied, Rivalz walked up to the makeshift bar that had been set up. Rivalz took one glance at the pig that was roasting and pulled out his purse. "A slice of that and a pint of ale."
The bar keeper muttered out a price, Rivalz too tired to haggle. The price was close enough to fair anyway. Rivalz counted out the coins, careful to keep from showing how much money he really had. The purse had a good amount of money, the wages of a guard. Rivalz was obviously not dressed like a guard, more like a common worker. The purse had a year's worth of money for a man like him, and that would draw unwanted attention to him.
Rivalz took the simple wooden plate and the tin mug, retreating to one of the tables. He looked around at the other people, checking to make sure that the rest of them were as they seemed. They were all commoners, like him. He nodded to himself and focused on his food, forcing himself to eat slowly. He didn't want to choke or to throw it all up later on. The food wasn't the best, burnt in a few places but it was good, especially to his stomach.
He didn't look up until he was done, Rivalz wiping his grease stained fingers on the edge of his shirt. He sat back, sipping at his ale as he looked around. He had missed the market that would have taken up much of the morning. The farmers would be heading back, all the little bits of extra sold or stored away. Rivalz would have to buy from the villagers, all at a higher price than usual. But he would need to increase his stores, even if it drained his purse. Anything to keep him going through the long winter.
Rivalz wiped his mouth on his sleeve, looking around before putting a smile on his face. People had always reacted well to a friendly disposition. He lifted his mug, turning to face the others. "Where can I buy supplies for journey?"
The man at the bar stopped poking the pig to look over at him. "That depends on where you are going."
Rivalz stood up and wandered over to the bar to talk with the keeper. He hesitated a moment at the sight of a group of monks at one table, but shrugged off the sight. They could be conveying the bones of some saint or the treasures that had been deserted by the long ago lords of the north. They were probably just trying to get back to the monastery before the winter came.
He leaned up against the bar, gesturing with his free hand to the mountains that were visible in the distance. "Out there somewhere, maybe further west."
One of the monks spoke up. "That's a strange chose of destination at this time of year."
Rivalz shrugged and took another drink. "I go where my will takes me and it takes me to the mountains. I've had worse."
That got a chuckle from the people around him. Rivalz nodded at the man, turning back around when the bar keeper spoke. "There are a few places at the other end of the street, the houses with the stock pens. The people there will give you a fair price, as fair as you will get anyway."
"Thank you."
"I just have to as why?" The man leaned against the bar. "Why leave the north only to go further north. That makes no sense."
Rivalz shrugged, settling the mug down on the counter. "As I said, my feet and will wish to wander and I see no reason to stop them."
"I know that wanderlust well. What do you think brought me here?" The man laughed and reached out for the mug. "May those wandering feet find you a place and a nice woman eventually. Here, one the house, from one wanderer to another."
Rivalz nodded and accepted the mug, raising it in a toast. The rest of the men copied him, save for the group of monks, not that Rivalz expected them to. He grinned and raised the mug to drink. He only managed a little before he heard one of the monks spoke up.
"Wandering sounds a lot like running to me."
Rivalz kept himself from flinching, but just barely. He kept his gaze on the mug, just to be sure that he wouldn't give anything away. "Up here, it's very much the same. It's far different back where I come from. Magicians seem to grow on trees around here."
"So running from the winter and the magicians, smart move." The monk laughed and shifted, Rivalz frowning when he heard metal clank against metal. He didn't think on it for too long, the monk turning to face him. "Anything else you're running from? A woman? Your father?"
"No." Rivalz managing an uneasy laugh. "Just seeing what I can of-"
"The noose?"
Rivalz froze as the monk stood up and pulling his hood back. He took a step back, staring at Jeremiah Gottwald, the captain of the Avalon guard. The mug tumbled from his hand as the other monks revealed themselves as members of the guard as well. He stumbled into the bar, feeling his legs shake.
He had thought that he was far ahead of them. He had a day of space between him and the guards. The horses must have made all the difference. His escape would make all of the difference too. It didn't matter if he had used magic or not, his escape would mean that he was hung for a worse crime. No one escaped from Avalon, it had been ordered by the brother of the emperor himself. If Charles vi Britannia couldn't have Britannia, then he would create his own empire with Avalon to rival Pendragon. Under his command, Avalon would have been the trap that no one would escape from. And Jeremiah was loyal to Lord Charles, to the ideas that he had brought to the north.
He looked to the side, watching as people ran from the tavern, probably just as eager to get away. Rivalz wished that he could do the same, but he wouldn't be allowed to run. Jeremiah would catch him before he could reach the street. Rivalz swallowed, flinching as Jeremiah drew his sword.
"Rivalz Cardemonde you have been accused of stealing and the use of magic. You were sentenced to hang by the neck until dead." The sword was lowered at his chest. "Now you have escaped from Avalon, your sentence has been expanded. I do not know how, but it will be done. And all of this is done by the order of my lady, Nunnally vi Britannia."
The guard walked forward, Rivalz reaching back for something to defend himself with. It wouldn't do much for him, not against the trained guard, but it would make him feel better. He would have at least fought back once instead of being dragged away again.
His fingers brushed over metal, Rivalz wrapping his hand around it as the first guard swung. Rivalz threw the cup at the guard, using the distraction to run towards the tables. There were more distractions to be found there. If he was lucky, he would be able to get to the guards' horses and use one to escape. At least he would be escaping on a full stomach.
Rivalz stumbled onto the table, scooping up one of the knives and kicking the rest of the mugs and plates off at the guards. They shrunk back, giving Rivalz the time to jump to the next table, repeating the move. He scurried under the table, leaning his shoulder against it and flipping it up. The table would act as a shield as he considered his next move.
He looked around, clutching his knife in his hand. He had blocked his own escape path, meaning that he would have to dodge around the tables and run to get back to the main path through the village. Rivalz cursed under his breath, flipping the knife to a better hold. He stood up, jabbing the blade into the guard's side before taking off.
He dashed across the space, snatching up another knife to defend himself with. If he could just keep them away, then he would be fine. Rivalz sprinted for the next table, about to set it up to guard his back when someone grabbed his shoulder. Rivalz reached back to stab at the man with the knife. He managed to keep a hold on his makeshift weapon, aiming it for the guard's arm.
There was a cry of outrage before the knife was taken from his hand. Rivalz attempted to claw at the guard's arm, yelping as he was spun around and thrown onto the table. He reached up to grab at the hands that were around his throat, gasping for breath.
The guard looked back at Jeremiah. "What do we do with him sir?"
"We can't kill him." Rivalz looked back at Jeremiah, watching as the man looked around. He shivered as Jeremiah dropped the point of his sword into the fire the pig was still roasting on. "So we'll have to make sure that he will live. It'll be just enough to let him remember what happens when you cross the guard of Avalon, and as a warning to the others. No one escapes from Avalon, and no one attacks her guards." Jeremiah took the sword from the fire, studying the glowing tip. "Get him upright. He won't need his tongue for the way back."
Rivalz struggled against the guard as he was lifted to his feet. Another guard came around to grab a hold of his other side, holding him steady as they dragged him to the tree that shaded the yard. Rivalz grunted as he was shoved roughly against the tree, one guard forcing his mouth open.
Jeremiah advanced on him, Rivalz trying to find the words to beg the captain to leave him be, but he could only make vague noises of distress. Jeremiah didn't seem to care, waving all the guards away, save for the two that were holding him. Rivalz whimpered and closed his eyes. He wasn't brave; he had never made any claims to be. He just wished that he had gotten farther, run faster. If he couldn't have done that, then he wished that he could have seen his mother one last time.
The grip on his jaw tightened, Rivalz tensing as he waited for the final strike. All he got was the sound of something cutting through the air and a scream of pain. Rivalz opened his eyes, watching the guard fall to the ground. The man rolled around on the ground, clutching at his leg. Briefly, he wondered why none of the others were taking his place, staring at the crossbow bolt embedded in the guard's leg. Only when no one made a move did he looked up to see where the bolt had come from.
A man dressed in all black was seated on a black horse right by the bar. In his hand was the crossbow, another bolt already loaded. The man jerked the crossbow to one side. "Leave him be."
Jeremiah hesitated before using one hand to press Rivalz back against the tree. "Who are you to order me around?"
"Once you would have obeyed without question, Jeremiah Gottwald."
"That's captain to you."
"No. Not to me." The man pulled his hood back with one hand, narrowing his eyes at the man.
All of the guards reacted by jumping backwards, a few of them actually crossing themselves at the sight of the man. It was enough for Jeremiah to step away from the tree, leaving Rivalz to stand on his own. For a moment, Rivalz was tempted to run, but he wasn't sure what the man would do. It was equally as likely that the man would keep him at the tavern for the guards to take.
The man on the horse laughed, reaching out towards Rivalz and motioning for him to come closer. When he hesitated the man motioned again. Rivalz was smart enough to take the order, running over and taking hold of the horse's reins. He kept his eyes fixed on the guards as the man dismounted and walked closer to the guards.
"There was a time when you would have bowed to me, Jeremiah, when you would have called me by my title. What happened to those days?"
Jeremiah finally moved, goaded by the man's words. He lifted his sword, Rivalz flinching back against the horse. Jeremiah didn't seem to notice, his full attention on the man. "The only title you have his demon."
Rivalz jumped, looking between the man and Jeremiah. He had never seen the demon of Avalon, the son of Lady Marianne. The whole country had thought he was dead, Bishop Calares had proclaimed that he had vanquished the demon. Rivalz was sure that Jeremiah wouldn't have been acting the way that he was if this was some bandit trying to earn some respect, so this had to be the real demon.
He dropped the horse's reins, taking stock of the situation. Whatever it was did not bode well for him. If Jeremiah won, then his tongue would be cut out and he would be hanged. If the demon won, then Rivalz couldn't be sure what would happen to him. Rivalz had heard all of the stories about the demon, but he had never paid much attention to them because he had thought that he would never have to worry about such a powerful magic user again. Now that he was confronted by the demon himself. Rivalz didn't want to stick around to find out how many of the stories were true. The demon would serve as a distraction for him.
Rivalz turned and ran, looking for where the guards' horses were tied. He was not going to just miss out on a chance to get away faster. After he had gotten a horse, he would ride for the nearest forest and hide himself away until the guards were locked away in Avalon for the winter.
He reached the horses, fumbling with the way that the reins were tied. He didn't know how to ride, but he was sure that it would be simple enough, just for the time that he would need the horse. Rivalz grinned as he undid the knot on one of the horses, leading the bay away from the rest. He gently shushed the horse, staring at the stirrup before sticking his foot in. He hopped awkwardly on one foot before jumping up into the saddle, landing on his stomach.
The horse squealed and started forward, Rivalz scrambling for any kind of hold before he slid off. Rivalz rolled as he hit the ground, staying on the ground for a moment before carefully lifting his head. The bay was already circling back to the other horses. He wouldn't be attempting to ride a horse out; it would be far slower to be constantly thrown from the saddle every few strides. He would be faster on his own.
Rivalz picked himself up, not bothering to brush himself off. The demon was giving him all the time he would need and Rivalz would not be too proud to allow that debt. Without a backward glance towards the tavern, Rivalz started running.
Lelouch heard the fugitive turn and run, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought a smile. He had just hoped to mess with Jeremiah before he realized who the captain was trying to bring back. The fugitive from Avalon was what he had come looking for; the fugitive was everything for his plans. That he got to ruin Jeremiah's hunt just made it all better. The fool had a big mouth and thought too much of himself.
He reached back to grab a few more bolts, playing with them in his free hand as he started toward the guards again. "You insult me, Jeremiah."
"That will be the only thing you get from me. You're a traitor and a mage."
Two years had taken away some of the sting from the insults, he had even gone to lands where the word demon had become a word of praise. Outside of Britannia he was something greater, even if reputation was based on misinformation. He couldn't work magic, but he knew how to talk to his advantage. Still, the insults were coming from someone that had taught him the very basics of fighting, at least until Suzaku had come along.
He glanced up at the sky, taking a slow breath. "And that is all I will get from you, insults and empty threats? I just let your fugitive get away. And you call yourself the captain of the guard."
Jeremiah jerked one hand, Lelouch watching as the guards nervously because to circle him. He narrowed his eyes and lifted the crossbow. They all thought he was going to use magic, and they would be watching for it. Lelouch smiled to himself, glancing at the younger guard before firing. The guard clutched at his throat and fell to the ground. Lelouch reloaded quickly, aware that the guards were drawing their swords. His own was still in his scabbard at his side and another still on his saddle. But the latter was Suzaku's sword, and he would never draw it, he didn't want to touch it. Until then, he would stick to his crossbow. It wasn't the weapon for a man of his station, which was exactly why Lelouch preferred it. Despite their insults, they still expected him to act like the son of a lord and he would use that expectation to its fullest. It was what had kept him alive.
Lelouch fired into the next man's leg, loading his last bolt as he looked up. He glanced behind him at the bar, spotting a few things that he could use, but not enough for a good fight, a strong fight. It was enough for what he needed, which was a distraction while the fugitive got away and to cut down on their pursuit. Lelouch was not going to allow himself to get caught, not after he had come out into the open again. For a fugitive from Avalon, he would break all of his rules he had established. Anything to get at Calares.
He fired the last bolt, missing as the guard dodged to the side. Lelouch just managed to scrape the guard's cheek, but he didn't linger too long to check. He was already reaching for the knife that had been used to cut the pig. All the while, he could hear Suzaku's voice in his head. "Keep moving Lelouch. Don't just stand there and take the blows. You wouldn't be able to stand up to that."
He threw the knife, the blade glancing off the leather armor that the guards worse. Lelouch scrambled for another weapon, not having time to grab one before Jeremiah was charging at him. He stepped to the side, grabbing onto Jeremiah's arm and tugging. Lelouch didn't expect to pull Jeremiah over; he wasn't strong enough for that. He was just trying to veer the captain off course, and it worked far beyond what Lelouch had thought.
Jeremiah tripped over the stones surrounding the fire, the guard reaching for something to catch himself on. He grabbed onto the spit, pulling the pig down with him into the fire.
Lelouch stumbled back as Jeremiah screamed. Jeremiah's clothes were burning, but that was the extent of the damage, the fire had been too low. But Jeremiah would be slowed, as would the rest of the guards. They were incompetent, dull men anyway.
He chuckled and swung up onto Gawain's back. He slid his crossbow back into place, doing a quick check of everything before swinging Gawain away from the tavern. He nudged the stallion into a trot, spotting the faint figure of the fugitive running away. Lelouch shook his head and sent Gawain forward, the stallion eagerly settling into a gallop. Even with the head start, the fugitive would need help getting away, which was where he came in.
He leaned forward as they got closer, noticing the way that the fugitive looked nervously over his shoulder. The fugitive raised one hand, coming to a stop. He curled up on the road, Lelouch slowing Gawain down. Lelouch sent the stallion around in a circle around the fugitive, half of his attention on the village to keep a watch for Jeremiah and the others.
"Please demon," the moniker grabbed his attention, Lelouch looking back at the fugitive. The man opened both his hands in surrender. "I've done nothing, I can't even do magic. What am I to you?"
Lelouch bit back the scathing reply that came to mind. He leaned over the side of the saddle. "I am saving your life."
The fugitive stared at him, mouth completely open like he was going to ask a question. But the man didn't speak, just wasted precious time by staring at him. Lelouch held out a hand, hoping that the man would finally move, only to have him recoil. Lelouch hissed out a curse between his teeth, about to pull the fugitive onto Gawain when there was a shout from behind him. He turned his head, watching as the guards rushed out of the backyard of the tavern. A few of them went immediately for their horses, but there was one that had a bow ready and an arrow drawn.
Lelouch gritted his teeth, waving his hand at the man, hoping that he would listen to the offer. The guard with the bow might miss when they were galloping away, but not while they stood still. Lelouch was not going to let the fugitive get away, not when he had just stolen the man away from the guard. He would never get the man back if the guards took him away again. "Come on."
There was a screech from above, Lelouch looking up with a smile. The guard did the same, leaving his face unguarded as the eagle swooped down and caught his face with its claws. The guard screamed and fell to the ground. Lelouch watched until the eagle was back up in the air before waving his hand in the fugitive's face. "Last chance."
The man bit his lip, but nodded, grabbing onto Lelouch's hand and stepping up onto Lelouch's boot. The fugitive had to jump to get onto Gawain's back, almost knocking Lelouch out of the saddle. Gawain jigged in place, but did nothing else. Lelouch was glad of his horse's training; it gave him time for the fugitive to settle. Lelouch looked back to see that the guards were still distracted. The eagle swooped in again, plucking at the manes of the horses to cause them to panic. Lelouch nodded and urged Gawain forward.
He would get them out of the village first before heading east. As much as he wanted to head right back to Avalon, he would wait and plan. Rushing would only get him killed and revenge like the one he had planned couldn't be rushed. He would go the long way, stick close to the mountains until he had lost the guards. Avalon might have had the best guards, but Jeremiah didn't know the land like Suzaku had. They would give up as Lelouch went into the mountains. Then he would turn back to Avalon.
Gawain galloped easily out of the village, Lelouch highly aware of where the fugitive was clinging to him. He tried to keep his hands steady as he guided Gawain towards the forest. A shriek made him look up, Lelouch relaxing as he saw the eagle keeping pace with them. It would probably be annoyed that it couldn't land on his arm or on the saddle, but Lelouch would make it up to the eagle when they were done running. The eagle would be getting the choicest bits of whatever they caught that night. He liked to spoil his bird.
Calares turned back to the people, raising his hand in a final blessing. The people in the church rose and began to file out, Calares watching them go. Performing the service always calmed him just because of the rote motions. The service was relaxing, had been relaxing, as well as the answers that he had found in it. Like the one about what to do with Nunnally, although it had been one of the easier answers. He just had to keep her busy, to think that she was involved. She was easily led that way.
Jeremiah too was easy, give the man a cause and the chance of glory and he would fight until his last breath. Calares just had the misfortune of not being Marianne.
But the current problem would take more than that. Calares began to circle around the church, putting out the candles as he went. The fugitive himself wouldn't be a problem, save for the reputation of Jeremiah and Avalon. The former didn't mean anything but the latter meant everything.
Avalon had been a place of refuge for him. He had been sent to the north by Vincent's father at the insistence of his family. Calares' family had wanted members in every place that they could. His two brothers had gone into the army, and his family had been proud before God had struck them down for it. First his father and then both of his brothers. That was the point that Avalon had changed from a prison and into a refuge.
Of course, now it could easily turn into a prison again. He had been too confident in himself two years ago when he had let Lelouch go, and now there was every chance that Jeremiah would run into Lelouch while looking for the fugitive.
To complicate things further, Mrs. Lohmeyer had said that Nunnally had invited Euphemia to stay and Calares did not have the power to refuse her. He would allow Nunnally her visitor; they would be kept in Avalon anyway. The winter felt like it would be coming early.
A complex problem indeed.
Calares came to a stop by the pews used by the lady of Avalon, staring at the alter. At this point, it was too much of a risk to leave Lelouch alive. His family wouldn't be able to protect him from his mistake. The emperor had made his views of magic very clear over the past two years. It would be better to make another plan then.
The first step would be to take care of Lelouch. The guards would be enough, or so he hoped. If they came back without Lelouch dead, then he would have to rely on other methods. The second step would be to marry off Nunnally. Getting another family involved would help him decide on what move to make next. If he found one ambitious enough with the men and money to support an army, he would attempt to make an empire out of the north of Britannia again. If not, then he would have to play the slower political game of urging marriages and working through diplomatic channels, the kind of politics that he had no patience for.
He rubbed at his neck, slowly turning over the problem in his head. He would do anything to keep his head attached. Most people would not accept his decision as priest-like. They wanted priests to be ready to die at any time for their religion, but Calares would never be one of those. He was far too in love with his life to leave it.
When he had let Lelouch live, he had stupid and ambitious, he would have to be careful not to let himself take that route again. Only the undisciplined allowed themselves to be taken like that.
Calares straightened his robes and moved towards the back of the church. He felt better now that the problem of the demon was solved; it was one less thing for him to re worrying over.
With Euphemia coming, the two ladies would need some kind of entertainment for the long winter nights, and the company of a few young men would do no harm. Calares already had a few in mind. Through a marriage, he could have an escape, if he every needed it. Above everything, he would need that escape route if things got too bad.
Nunnally hummed to herself, using the last of the sunlight to finish her needlework. She held up the dress she was working on, staring at the patterns of feathers and eagles that were beginning to form. It wasn't as good as some of the work from the capital and not at all in fashion, too much of the old style of the tribes before they had been shown civilization and God. But it was some of her best work, and Nunnally liked the style. She smoothed her fingers over the stitching, looking back up at the clerk sitting at the desk. "Please read back those numbers again."
The clerk turned back to the wax tablet in his hands, Nunnally nodding along. From what she could hear, Avalon had done well in the goods they could trade. Their fields could supply enough for the castle and a little bit to sell on the side. There were also the pelts they got from the animals in the forests of the north. There were other little things as well. Nunnally nodded slowly as the clerk listed them off. Avalon was in a good place, made better by the fact that Nunnally didn't waste money on parties or more clothes. Most of her dresses she kept in good repair by himself. No one in the capital cared for her, the child of Emperor Vincent's brother, the one who had been sent away. It was for the best, Nunnally didn't want to be cooed over. She was not something to be pitied.
She looked back up as the clerk stopped again, making sure to smile at him. "It sounds like we will have enough to replace some of the buildings, perhaps expand the guard barracks, but when the spring comes. And we'll hire from the villages, I want some of this going back into our people."
"I'll inform the steward, my lady."
Nunnally waved him away, not watching him bow. She looked back at her dress, settling it aside for another one. She enjoyed doing repair work while she listened, it kept her hands busy. And it stopped Mrs. Lohmeyer from pestering her because Nunnally could honestly say that she was working on her tasks as assigned. Nunnally knew that she should have left all the work to the steward, but she enjoyed the running of the castle.
The door opened again, Nunnally looking over her shoulder. The maid bowed and hurried to tidy up the room. It took her a moment to put a name to the face; the maid had only just been given the position. Nunnally smiled and put down the dress. "Sayoko."
"My lady." The maid nodded, but kept cleaning the room, but she kept looking back at Nunnally. Once the desk had been straightened up, she turned to look at her. "What will that be?"
"I don't know. I was hoping for more birds, but I've already used eagles."
"Your family sign?"
"Yes." Nunnally sighed. "But I want a variety, just to keep my fingers from getting tired."
"I know of a few from my homeland. I could draw a few for you, for your dress. I've heard that it's quite the fashion at court to have a foreign design."
"I'll never go to court."
Sayoko paused, staring at Nunnally. Finally she shrugged, going back to her work. "I don't see the point in court either. You've got more sense than the others. All the nobles talk about is Pendragon. There's nothing much there."
Nunnally laughed, starting to put her tools away for the night. She would continue tomorrow, when the light was better. Nunnally carefully folded the dresses, Sayoko taking them from her to put back in her chest.
In the midst of their tidying, the door opened again, one of the young guards clearing his throat. Nunnally thought that she saw Sayoko reaching for something on her belt only to lower her hand when she noticed that Nunnally was watching. Nunnally huffed and waved for the guard to speak.
The man bowed. "My lady, a patrol has potted Lady Milly riding for Avalon. I have a few of the patrol escorting her. We wouldn't want the criminal to hurt her."
"Of course not." She smiled. "Go, we'll take care of everything here."
The guard bowed and walked away, Nunnally's smile wavering. She had gotten too good at hiding what she thought, so much so that it frightened her. But she knew what happened when she voiced her opinion, people tended to smile and ignore her. In her mind, the escaped criminal was not dangerous, he was frightened and Nunnally was more than willing to let him go. There were other criminals that they should worry about, the ones that went unnoticed because they weren't magicians. The way the empire was blind to everything that wasn't magic involved would hurt them eventually. If she had her way, she would be able to change that. She wouldn't be able to do what she wanted, there were too many people that had more power that would stand in her way and Nunnally could do nothing about them. So, she would concentrate on the people alone. She was all theirs; it was the only thing that anyone would do for them.
Nunnally looked up at Sayoko, the maid already shutting the chest. "Should I ready the guest room?"
"Yes, Sayoko. Thank you."
For a moment, Sayoko looked surprised. Then she just bowed and left the room. Nunnally tipped her head to the side, glad that she could still surprise people. She wasn't like her brother or her mother, it took effort for her to be tricky because she didn't have the practice. Nunnally had the sinking feeling that she would be getting the practice that she would need soon enough.
Lelouch glanced up at the overcast sky, feeling his stomach twist. It would be dark soon and Lelouch didn't want to be stumbling through the Kinver Forest at night. There were too many people that were still halfway feral. They didn't recognize any lord, not on their own land. Lelouch sighed and turned Gawain off the trail towards a hovel.
Off the top of his head, he knew that they were still on Ashford land, and that their people hated the current lord. The old Ashford lord had been better; he hadn't drained everything from the people. At least he no longer looked the part of a noble; years on the run had changed that. Still, he doubted that people would trust him.
Lelouch watched as the people stopped chopping wood, the woman going to hide behind her husband. He watched the door of the house, waiting to see if any more would come out; he didn't want to be too outnumbered. When no one did, Lelouch settled back, trying to ignore the way that the fugitive's hands were still on his waist. He cleared his throat, Gawain coming to a stop. Lelouch reached down to stroke Gawain as the stallion tossed his head, trying to calm the horse. "We're looking for a place to sleep."
The older man shook his head. "No. Find your place somewhere else."
Lelouch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Suzaku would have been better at this than him, Suzaku had always been better at talking to people. He had only known the noble way, demanding what he wanted. But he couldn't do that anymore, not if he wanted to lay low. He cleared his throat and shifted on Gawain. "We can pay."
That perked the man up, Lelouch allowing the man to look Gawain over. He knew what the man was seeing, Lelouch purposefully made sure that Gawain looked good, enough for him to be considered slightly wealthy. It had eased his passage enough times already, even with those who knew who he was. Lelouch knew that he had the man when he smiled.
"Fine then, but the two of you will sleep in the barn. You won't come toward the house or I'll send you out."
"Fair enough." Lelouch turned Gawain towards the barn, glad to get away from the man. He would have to watch the man and his family. It would all be useless if the fugitive's throat was slit in the middle of the night.
He slid off of Gawain's back; not paying attention as the fugitive nearly fell off the horse. He smiled, shaking his head as he took the saddlebags off of Gawain. Lelouch gave the sky another glance, trying to track the time. It was difficult with the trees and the overcast sky. The twisting in his stomach was getting worse and Lelouch knew better than to ignore that feeling.
Lelouch turned around, taking a quick step back when he saw that the fugitive was standing in front of him. The fugitive gave him a nervous smile. "Sorry. I just…thanks for saving me. But, why?"
He shrugged. "I don't like the idea of Jeremiah bullying the people. The guards should do better."
"But you're the demon."
Lelouch reached out and pressed his hand over the fugitive's mouth. "Don't advertise that fact. I want to live and I think you do too."
"I do." The fugitive shifted nervously. "Still, why?"
He sighed and looked down at the saddlebags. "I'll tell you tomorrow when we're moving again. I don't trust these people and I'm tired."
"Oh, right. Can I help?"
Lelouch looked him over, debating the matter internally. He couldn't let the fugitive get away, but he didn't think that the man would run, not knowing whether or not the guards were on their tail. He motioned towards Gawain. "Take care of the horse and then go to sleep. We'll be moving on early."
The fugitive nodded, stepping around him to get to Gawain. He held out a hand for the horse to sniff, waiting for the horse to pull away to pat the horse's neck. "Hello, don't bite me."
"He won't. He's better behaved by that."
"And does he have a name?" The fugitive shrugged when Lelouch gave him an incredulous look. "Names are important, they tell us important things, like family and who people really are."
"Then am I a demon?"
"Don't know. I don't know you well enough."
Lelouch felt the corner of his mouth tip up. It was strange to see someone so relaxd around him. His reputation had preceded him for so long he doubted that anyone thought of him as anything other than a demon. Having the fugitive around would be refreshing. "His name is Gawain."
"Gawain? A good strong name for a strong horse. I'm Rivalz and we have a few things to discuss if we will be working together." Rivalz took Gawain's reins and began to lead him away, the horse walking with his head low to look at Rivalz.
Lelouch smiled at the sight. It was good for Gawain to interact with someone else, good for all of them. The two of them had been alone for too long.
A soft trill made him look to the fence, Lelouch smiling when he saw his eagle there. He set the saddlebags down on the fence, reaching out to stroke the eagle's chest with two fingers. The eagle gave him a long look but allowed the touch, Lelouch laughing. "So you've forgiven me now? I thought you might. You sulked for a while."
The eagle didn't answer back, not that Lelouch expected it to. He offered his right hand to the bird, the eagle stepping onto his hand. When the eagle settled, Lelouch moved, carrying the eagle into the barn. The eagle took the cue and flew into the nearest perch, Lelouch making a second trip for the saddlebags.
He ignored the eagle's gaze as he set himself up for the night. Lelouch piled the hay into a pile, spreading his cloak over it. He had learned to sleep in less comfortable places. Life on the run had changed him from the pampered lord to the rogue that everyone thought he had been. Lelouch was sure that Suzaku would laugh if he could see him now. Finally, the Lelouch from Avalon was gone, which just left Lelouch what he had now. He didn't quite know what that was, but he had gotten used to it.
Lelouch turned back to the saddlebag, taking out another cloak, one he kept for sentimental reasons, like Suzaku's sword. He brushed his fingers over the patches and the faded cloth, remembering when it had been bright blue and gold, the colors of Avalon. Suzaku had worn it as the captain of the guard and now Jeremiah wore a similar one. Lelouch lingered over the eagle sigil before he wrapped himself up in the cape, feeling the exhaustion of those days of hard riding. And he would continue to ride hard until the guards had given up the chase. He just wanted to catch a few hours of sleep and go hunt food later. But there was still one thing that he had left to do.
He reached back into the saddlebag and pulled out a book, the pages almost full. Lelouch had bought it on a whim, wanting to record his life when he had thought that someone would listen, before he had realized everyone, even Nunnally, had been turned against him. It had been one indulgence that he kept up out of habit, because he felt that someone had to know. When he went back to Avalon, he didn't expect to make it out alive. He would die for his revenge and he still cared enough to want someone to remember him as someone other than the demon of Avalon.
Lelouch took out the jar of ink, noticing that there wasn't much left. He wouldn't be buying anymore when he was out. By then he would have already gone through with his plan. Lelouch carefully unwrapped the quill that was made from one of the feathers shed by his eagle. He dipped the end into the ink, flipping to one of the few free pages. His stomach rolled again, Lelouch swallowing before quickly visiting the events of the day in short summary.
The fugitive was found today. He will be able to help us back into Pendragon. This will all end soon.
He quickly packed up the ink and the quill before blowing on the ink. Then he slammed the book shut. He shoved it in the saddlebag, not wanting to entertain the thought for much longer. He didn't want to long for something that would slow in coming. Lelouch wrapped himself up in the cloak, flopping down on the pile of hay. Outside, he could hear Rivalz chattering to Gawain, smiling to himself as he closed his eyes.
The sound of wings made him open one eye, watching as his eagle hopped closer. The eagle settled down in the hay, tucking its head under its wings, apparently deciding that it was safe enough to sleep. Lelouch rested a few fingers on the eagle's back and closed his eyes again.
Rivalz looked over his shoulder towards the barn. When he had checked in before nightfall, Lelouch and his bird were asleep, apparently tired out already. Rivalz shook his head as he continued to rub Gawain down. It didn't matter that his savior was asleep; Rivalz could take care of himself. He had no intention of escaping anyway. It was far safer to stick with Lelouch than to run off again. Demon or not, Rivalz wanted to be safe.
He took a step back, looking Gawain over before nodding. The stallion looked presentable again, or as close as Rivalz could get to it since the horse had taken it upon himself to roll as soon as the saddle was off. Rivalz shook his head and patted Gawain's side. "You stay clean, alright? I'm not cleaning you up again in the morning."
All he got was a snort in reply. Rivalz rolled his eyes and walked away. With Lelouch asleep in the barn, Rivalz would sleep in the loft. He trusted the demon to protect him, but he didn't want to sleep in the same room, not after only one day with him. Besides, the loft would probably be warmer. But first, he would have to eat.
Rivalz glanced around, watching the house closely. He hadn't seen the owners of the place since Lelouch had just talked to him. He knew that they were forbidden from getting close to the house, but that couldn't mean the woods. Rivalz was sure that he could find wood and a rabbit. Maybe he could even encourage Lelouch to eat; they couldn't ride with an empty stomach
He stumbled out into the woods, trying his best to be quiet. Rivalz had never been good at walking in the woods. He had been born in the open plains around Pendragon. The north was something completely different and it scared him still. Rivalz rested a hand against one of the small trees, looking around before heading into the forest to start collecting wood. He would keep his eyes open for the last of the roots or edible plants; because he was sure that he wouldn't be able to catch any animals.
Rivalz worked his away carefully through the trees, managing to gather a good pile of wood. He shifted it in his arms, about to turn around when he heard a howl. Rivalz sucked in a quick breath, holding still as he listened for the sound of other wolves, but there were none. It was a lone wolf and that made it dangerous. It wasn't even winter and the wolf was so close to humans. Rivalz swallowed and dropped all the wood he was carrying. He wasn't going to risk getting eaten, not when he had finally gotten protection and a way home.
Sticks cracked under his feet as he ran, Rivalz not bothering to keep quiet. He had to get out of the woods and back to the house. He would bring Gawain into the barn to keep the horse safe from the wolf if it was desperate enough to attack the human house. Lelouch would have to be woken up to fight off the wolf. Rivalz was sure that the family wouldn't do anything to help them; they obviously wanted him and Lelouch gone.
He stumbled out into the open between the barn and the hovel. Rivalz turned around to watch the woods as he backed away, looking for shifting undergrowth. He tried to calm his breathing, running a hand over his face. The howls had stopped, but that didn't mean that that the wolf was gone, it could still be hunting. He licked his lips, not seeing any movement. He would take advantage of the silence and seek shelter. Rivalz nodded and turned around, jumping back when he saw the older man standing behind him.
Rivalz took another step back, raising his hands to show that he was unarmed. "Sorry. I was just looking for firewood. Did you hear the wolf?" When the man didn't respond, Rivalz made a sweeping motion with his hand. "There's a wolf out there, you should go and-"
He was cut off as the man swung an ax at him. Rivalz scrambled backwards, the man turning him towards the house. He stumbled back, ducking the clumsy swings of the ax. The man didn't seem to be making much of an effort to hit him, just judging Rivalz. He went to dodge backwards again, only to trip over a rock.
Rivalz grunted and sprawled out on the ground, staring up at the man. He could see the man switch tactics, the ax lifted over the man's head with the intent to kill. Rivalz crossed his arms over his face, waiting for the ax to come down.
There was a growl from his left, Rivalz barely having the time to turn his head before something rushed the man. His mouth dropped open as he realized that the wolf was tearing at the man's arm, the animal jumping away when the ax was swung at it. The wolf circled around the man, paying no attention to Rivalz. Rivalz stayed only long enough to make sure that the wolf was really distracted before he turned and ran for the barn.
"Lelouch! Lelouch, we need you. There's a wolf!" There was no answer, just the sound of Gawain's nervous shifting.
Rivalz reached out to rest a hand on the horse's neck, ducking around the horse to run for the barn. He flung open the barn door, staring at the bed that had been prepared, but there was no one there. Rivalz turned in place, looking in the dark corners of the barn before making his decision. No matter if the man had tried to kill him, no one deserved to be mauled to death by a wolf.
He lunged for the crossbow that was hanging on the saddle, lifting it out of its place. He fumbled with the bolts, pulling two free as the rest spilled to the floor. Rival carefully stepped over the bolts, rushing to the slipshod wall, using the top of it to steady the crossbow. He held a bolt in between his teeth as he tried to pull the string back, looking up at a scream.
The boy had come out of the house, staring at his father's body and the wolf circling it. The boy rushed forward, scooping up the ax. Rivalz cursed as the wolf turned with a snarl. He couldn't pull the string back and the boy was going to die. He grunted and tried to get a better hold on the bow, trying one more time to pull the string back only to have the crossbow pulled from his hands.
He turned around to see a hooded person effortlessly load and aim the crossbow. Rivalz took a step back, the person adjusting their aim before firing. The bolt pierced the boy right in the neck. The boy clawed at his throat before falling to the ground, Rivalz staring at the second body in shock.
The crossbow was shoved roughly back into his hands, Rivalz staring at the weapon in his hands. It only took him a moment to get over his shock, Rivalz dropping the crossbow. He reached out for the stranger, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. To his surprise, the stranger allowed himself to be held in place. Rivalz glared at the man. "What gave you the right to do that?"
The man shrugged him off. "You'll thank me for it later."
Rivalz was taken aback by the stranger's voice, having a hard time matching it to the Lelouch he knew. But there was no one else that it could be; no one else would be attempting to save him. He managed to sputter out "Why?"
"They would have killed you in the morning." The stranger walked away towards were the wolf was standing. Rivalz was tempted to call the stranger back, but he stopped himself. If the man wanted to be mauled by a wolf it wasn't Rivalz's fault. He rolled his eyes and bent over to pick up the other bolt that had dropped when the stranger had taken the crossbow from him. When he looked up, the stranger was kneeling on the ground, offering his hand to the wolf.
To Rivalz's surprise, the wolf sniffed the man's hand before resting its muzzle on the hand. Rivalz stared as the man reached out to stroke the wolf's head. The action was familiar but still cautious, and the wolf looked like it wanted to pull away. The two remained in their awkward position for a while before the man stood up and started to walk away. The wolf remained behind for a moment before getting up and following the man. Rivalz fumbled with the crossbow, aiming it at the wolf, but he wasn't sure that he could make the shot; his hands were shaking too much.
The man and the wolf disappeared into the forest, Rivalz finally lowering the crossbow. He sighed and shook his head. Whatever was happening had to be magic, there was no other explanation. Rivalz walked backwards until he hit the wall of the barn. It had to be Lelouch, there was no other explanation for what had just happened. The demon had saved his life again, strangely enough. It seemed like the demon wasn't living up to all the rumors about him. Rivalz didn't know quite how to deal with the change.
He retreated into the barn again, replacing the crossbow and cleaning up the bolts. He looked around the barn before shivering and heading out of the building. Rivalz didn't want to linger in the barn any longer; it was too much magic for him in one day. He clambered up into the hayloft, pushing a pile of hay together before crawling into it. Rivalz shut his eyes, pushing deeper into the hay as the howls started again.