The harsh clanging of steel against steel startled him awake.
Slowly, the culprit came into focus through those infernal bars that had become an almost permanent part of his vision of the outside.
One of the Warlord's footsoldiers.
Who didn't even wait for him to fully awaken before almost throwing a bowl into the cage.
He sat up, wincing as his lower back spasmed painfully from yet another night in a cramped space. There was hardly space to get up and move around, let alone lay down properly.
He looked down at his shackled hands. He didn't even have enough leeway to rub the sore spot.
Mocking laughter from the footsoldiers. He didn't give them the pleasure of a reaction. By now he was used to it, regardless.
With a sigh, Reynauld took the bowl with scraps, starting yet another day in this hell that was now his life.
The day was blessedly uneventful. The Warlord was probably out on a raid, and while the footsoldiers liked to sneer and laugh, they didn't touch him.
Then again, that was probably because the Warlord wanted Reynauld's suffering all to himself.
Reynauld winced as he shifted his position, the pain from a wound in his side sharpening. He tried to treat it, but with neither the knowledge and literally having his hands tied, all he could hope for was that it didn't get infected or that he wouldn't bleed out.
"Abdul would know how to handle this…" Reynauld muttered to himself, before smiling wistfully. "Or just make it bleed worse."
He leaned his head back against the bars.
Why did he…?
He stopped himself.
"Regret is a sin."
"Is that how you justify yourself? Pathetic…"
"Shut up, Dismas." Reynauld whispered. He knew the other man wasn't there.
Why would he be?
"You ran. It's what you do."
"Shut up…"
Ran out on us. As you ran out on…
"I told you to SHUT UP!"
Reynauld fiercely turned to where he heard the voice come from.
No one.
He could hear the mutters of his captors, some making a gesture indicating they figured he'd lost his mind.
Maybe he did…
The clamoring roused him from the stupor he found himself in most of the time.
The Warlord had returned.
His cage opened and Reynauld was dragged out and tossed in front of the behemoth.
Was it that time already?
Slowly, but surely, he managed to get himself standing. His back was aching. His wound felt like someone shoved a hot poker inside.
Still. He refused to let it show.
Reynauld gritted his teeth, forcing his body to stop shaking as he raised his head to glare into that helmet with a righteous fire.
A single backhand sent him flying.
For a moment he was disoriented where he was, the laughter of the crowd not helping.
Everything came back into a sharp light as his side exploded as The Warlord harshly stepped on his wound.
He tried to bite back his scream of agony, but he hardly could.
Soon enough, white turned to black, and he hated himself for welcoming the darkness.
Was he dying?
He felt like dying.
At this point he welcomed it. Even if it was just out of spite.
He wondered where he would go.
Heaven?
Hell?
Again he found it hard to care.
Even the fiery pits sounded better than… this.
More noise. Sounded like a battle.
The cage opened, and reflex took over as he pressed himself against the back bars.
"Away…!" Was all he managed. "Stay…!"
"Easy. Easy. It's me." Someone said,
That voice…
It couldn't be…
"Dismas…?" Reynauld said, his voice cracking as he felt coarse yet gentle hands help him to his feet and out of the cage.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, friend." Those words confused Reynauld.
Friend?
He still considered him a… friend?
The Knight started shaking.
"Yeah, we need to get you to a doctor…"
"I could…" Another familiar voice joined.
"For fuck's sake Abdul, now is not the time for the damn Skull."
Reynauld couldn't help himself.
He started laughing.
His friends came for him.
His friends came..
His friends …
His…
…
The gentle rocking of the carriage woke him back up again.
Things were… warm.
Soft.
A gentle arm placed around him.
He tried to move.
"Try to rest." A voice soothingly said. Abdul's ever calm and friendly tones were a balm on his ragged soul. "We're on our way to the nearest Inn."
Reynauld wanted to talk. Wanted to say so much.
"Forgive me…" Was all he managed.
"Save your breath." Dismas' voice was sharper, closer by.
Still gentle, though.
"This is the Legendary Crusader?" Someone else said. A strange voice. Proud. Somewhat arrogant. Disappointed. "I expected more."
"Shut it, Sahar. I'd like to see you after spending months in a damn cage."
Months…?
The darkness started to take him again.
He didn't fight it, but for different reasons now.
He was warm.
He was safe…
The next time he truly, fully awoke, he found himself in a bed.
A fairly standard, even somewhat old bed, but compared to the cage, it felt heavenly.
He almost didn't want to wake up, but felt like he should.
Reynauld slowly sat up.
His side still hurt, but when he reached for it, he could feel it was stitched up and bandaged.
"That Liberal Arts degree of his really came in handy." Dismas said, entering with a plate of food.
Reynauld couldn't help himself as he immediately scarfed it down.
"Yeah, that's what I figured." Dismas said.
Once the plate was finished, Reynauld looked at Dismas, who just looked amused at his usually well mannered friend just having devoured a plate of food like a hungry animal.
Reynauld quickly looked away.
He didn't deserve this.
Not after…
"Forgive me." He repeated. Dismas sighed.
"You know how I feel about these things." He said. "So let's just cut it out, alright?"
"You're not… angry?"
"Over what?"
"I ran…"
Another sigh.
"Listen. I'm not going to lie. When you left the Hamlet without so much as a goodbye, yeah. I was pissed. 'I thought we were more than that' and all that sappy shit." Dismas started. "But I also know you better than that. Things got too comfortable. Too… homely. You're not about that life." He couldn't help but chuckle. "If anything, you made the smart decision. That place went to shit real fast after you left. The whole world did."
"So that's why…"
"Listen. We're on another mission to battle the Darkness. This time, we're traveling. If you feel up to it."
"Always." Reynauld said almost casually. "If you still want me."
"Always." Was the reply.
"And the others…?"
"You know Adbul. Nothing phases that guy. Though it seems his own demons are catching up just like with you. And his are literal."
"I wouldn't be surprised if that Warlord made a pact somewhere as well."
They shared a laugh.
"And the woman? She didn't seem to be impressed."
"That's Sahar. Don't let it bother you. She's not all bad. If the fact she's badgering the blacksmith about making sure your sword comes out better than new."
"You found my sword?" Reynauld almost teared up, remembering how his oldest companion shattered in his fight with the Warlord.
Dismas nodded.
"Your banner and Helmet, too. So don't worry. You don't have to air out that ugly mug for much longer."
"Yours isn't much better." Reynauld retorted in jest.
A hearty laugh as Dismas ruffled a hand through his hair.
"Just focus on getting better, okay? The sooner you get back to cracking skulls, the better." With that Dismas left the room. Reynauld just sighed.
Getting back to battle would be grand…
"...Sure likes to take his time."
"Patience, Dismas."
Reynauld opened the door of the Inn he had been staying in for the past few weeks.
A freshly clean tabard. A new Book of Verses, his repaired sword and most importantly, his helmet.
"Alright, I get it now." The woman, Sahar, said.
"Careful now." Abdul said. "You might be infringing on Dismas' territory."
Reynauld was so relieved with his helmet at this moment. Dismas wasn't as lucky as he became almost as crimson as his scarf.
"I swear one of these days I take that damn skull and shove it RIGHT UP YOUR…!"
"Dismas." Reynauld said, voice soft, but authoritative. Dismas instantly calmed down and just crossed his arms.
"And you can calm down that raging beast." Sahar said. "Impressive."
"Don't you start with me, Lady."
Reynauld just coughed, before making his way to the carriage.
"These squabbles can wait. We have work to do. Evil to vanquish." He said, getting up on the driver's box.
As his allies.
No.
As his friends entered, he took his banner and pointed it to the horizon.
"Onward!"