"Shut up," he whispered into the dark embrace of the cave. "Leave me alone."

Despite not seeing the voice's owner, he knew it was the gray elf. He could feel her derisive sneer cutting into the very depths of his soul.

Erend pursed his lips and scratched his arm.

How is she doing this?

He'd gone inside the cave to be alone with his thoughts, with his guilt. But somehow he wasn't alone. It wasn't even the fact that he could feel the elf that bothered him. It was the Source. He could feel it more clearly than ever. He could feel it course through the walls, his body, and the metallic ore veins in the deeper parts of the cave.

The feeling, though mesmerizing, was overshadowed by the pain of his recent loss.

She's dead because of me. Our fucking leader is dead because of my inadequacy.

"You can still improve," the elf whispered.

Erend jerked his head back in confusion, "How?" he growled.

"Improve. No paved path for you; make your own."

"That's not helpful at all!"

And not at all what I was getting at. How the hell are you speaking to me? And how the hell am I understanding you...

He could feel the elf scoff at him, "Useless. I'll show."

Suddenly, the ambient Source went wild, rushing throughout the cave in a murderous frenzy. The stony walls trembled and roared.

He could feel the elf exerting her control over the Source. It elongated and compressed to her liking, taking on shapes he'd recently learned.

Glyphs...

In particular, the glyph for sharp materialized in innumerable variations around him. He felt as if he stood in a sea of daggers.

The glyph for unstable materialized above his head. It connected to the others with the use of a familiar blue and white thread.

"Bear witness," she commanded in a hiss.

The glyphs blurred and started vibrating madly with a low hum.

Erend could feel his Source draining at a rapid pace.

Wait, this is all me?

The ground spat out a fist-sized rock to the overjoyed reaction of the restless glyphs. They surged toward it, cutting it down piece by piece, shaping it to their liking. Before long the rock took on the shape of a sharp and menacing spike.

Erend's breath grew ragged as the ecstatic feeling of might washed over him. The feeling was unmistakably addicting. He was in control of everything in sight.

He threw out his hand in a striking motion and sent the spike flying at the deepest parts of the cave. It penetrated the wall and sent out tremors that had the gate shaking in its hinges.

The sudden drain of Source left him feeling tired and weak. He sat down, with his back against the cold stone. Struggling to keep his eyes open.

Casting a powerful spell had felt somewhat comforting. It showed him how much he could improve, and how to do so. And it distracted him from the issue at hand, but it still didn't change the fact that Anya was gone, he quickly realized.

Despite not knowing each other for long, he really liked her. She was a good person and an even better leader. He was certain that the group would struggle without her. Someone had to step up, and that someone had extremely big shoes to fill.

He shook his head.

I'll just close my eyes for a bit. Then I'll sort through my thoughts.

The last thing he heard before falling asleep was her whisper, "Fight."

***

As Erend opened his eyes he stood upon the familiar battlefield. He wasn't in the frontline as usual. This time he stood a pace ahead of them, wearing a set of fancy armor.

He could feel thousands of eyes resting on his back. He turned to face them. The lines of the troops were neat and organized. The soldiers stared at him, empty and emotionless. Not at all like he was used to seeing them. There were no stalwart soldiers, no muttering ones, no one pissing themself.

Their emotionless nature left him at a loss for words. However, there was no time for idle thoughts. The cavalry was rushing at them as always.

Erend drew his sword. It was the same beautiful one that the captain wielded. The strange language he'd first been unable to read was now clear to him. The blade was riddled with glyphs. He couldn't recognize most of them, but he did see the one for sharp.

He threw a few practice swings into the air, all the while the soldiers followed his every move with their dead eyes. The sword felt well-balanced. The weight distribution was just right for his build and strength. The ground shook as the horde approached.

"Pikes at the ready!" Erend commanded with a shout and embedded himself amongst the soldiers, a few lines behind the front.

The army responded by coldly stepping into position.

The synchronized nature of their movements was satisfying, to say the least. Despite the woefully unforeseen encounter, Erend felt more hopeful about their chances than usual.

The cavalry wasn't far off now.

"Brace!" he shouted.

Then all hell broke loose. The cavalry rushed into the pikes of the army. The lifeless bodies of men and beasts continued onward, crushing into the frontline like the waves of a storm ravaging a harbor. Erend's soldiers were sent flying, broken and battered. Horses screamed and blood quickly began intermixing with the mud.

He'd never seen the confrontation play out like this. It felt wholly different when you weren't part of the frontline. It was strange to witness your fellow soldiers getting crushed all the while you felt relief at it not being you.

Erend didn't get to remain an onlooker for long. The frontlines did a marvelous job at stopping the initial charge, but they could do little to stop the next layer of the approaching tide. The cavalry broke through the infantry in a matter of seconds. It reached the next layer, where the same thing happened.

If it weren't for the mud they'd probably have been able to pierce through the formation without too many casualties. But the terrain proved cumbersome for both sides. A cavalry's greatest strength lay in its speed and maneuverability. Both of which were significantly hampered on a battlefield like this.

When they reached Erend's row, their momentum had diminished significantly. In fact, they had slowed to the point that Erend didn't even need a pike to slay them.

He dodged a spear by tackling the soldier to his right. The emotionless man fell into the mud and was subsequently trampled by a horse. His head shattered like a melon under the weight of the beast. He didn't even let out a scream.

Erend slashed at his attacker. Intuitively he imbued the sword with Source. It cut through the man with ease, relieving him of an arm and multiple ribs. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

Erend stared at the sword. The glyphs blazed with the power of his Source.

He quickly reeled himself back from the shock. A battlefield was no place to be lost in thought.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

As he took in his surroundings he saw that the horde had come to a halt before being able to shatter his formation completely. The horsemen were locked in combat with the army. There were no other approaching enemy troops, so he made a split-second decision.

"Surround them!" he shouted.

The cold soldiers did as they were told with no hesitation. Their morale was unfazed even after witnessing their comrades being cut to shreds.

It didn't take long for the infantry to envelop the enemy forces. A footsoldier was mobile in a chaotic battlefield. A horseman on the other hand was helpless without its speed.

With the cavalry stuck in their midst, the battle became one of attrition.

Erend joined the fray once again. He snuck up on an enemy soldier, making sure to stay behind him at all times, out of reach from his sword. When he got sufficiently close, he pulled the soldier off his horse. The man struggled and flailed with his arms, his horse neighed and kicked in defense, but it was hopeless. Once the soldier was dismounted and destabilized he was easy prey. The sword once again surprised Erend as it cut through the man like he was made of wool. Without his head attached, the soldier posed little threat to Erend, so he moved on.

He eyed the battlefield like a ravenous beast. As much as he wanted to deny it; killing was a great way to forget his guilt. He felt so engrossed in the fight that he'd almost put it out of his mind that Anya was dead. But only almost. The guilt still gnawed at him in the back of his head.

A familiar knight approached him, he wielded a sword and shield combination. The knight had seemed so skilled the first time he was here. Now, however, he didn't feel that threatening. He had already killed him once, and he would do it again.

Erend wiped his sword clean in the fold of his arm. He still had plenty of Source to spare. He could keep feeding it for hours.

The knight squared up against him, circling him like usual.

Erend threw a casual glance at his surroundings. After locating a spear he confidently walked over to it, picked it up, and gave it a few practice stabs in the air. The knight kept his distance, obviously on edge.

Abruptly, Erend took off and threw the spear at the knight. He didn't have much hope that the attack would inflict damage, throwing something so hefty in close range led to the attack being easily read. The knight effortlessly blocked it.

All according to plan.

While the knight had his shield raised, Erend lowered his body and advanced in the blind spot it created. In just a moment, long before the knight had time to recover, Erend was in range. He slashed at the knight's sword hand, easily severing it from the arm.

*Thank you for teaching me that move, Mr. Goblin. Very handy.*

The knight jerked back, his face wracked with pain. He desperately pulled his shield back to cover his wounded arm, exposing his legs. Erend moved in for a follow-up attack and cut through them, just below the knee joint. The knight fell with a bloodcurdling scream.

Erend deemed the man out of commission and thought back to the last time he'd won the duel. He quickly spun around; just in time too. Another knight was already lunging at him, with his sword thrust out in a stab.

Bastard!

Erend stepped sideways, barely dodging the attack. It scraped against his armor with a screech. The distance between the two grew as the knight's momentum carried him past.

"Coward," Erend growled at the surprise-attacker.

"In a war? That's rich coming from a captain hiding behind his troops. Not like I expected more from the son of a whore," the knight countered.

Erend felt his grip around the sword-hilt tighten. His breath grew labored, "What the fuck did you just say?"

The knight sneered at him silently, readying himself for Erend's attack.

Do you think I'm fucking stupid?

Erend lunged at the knight with a feint. The knight instantly moved in to counter but hit nothing but air. He was caught in Erend's trap.

Erend stepped inside the counter and dodged under the sword's arc. The knight's eyes grew wide in cold understanding. Erend swept his feet with a low kick.

Erend had never before thought that mud would be as much of an obstacle as it proved to be. Once you fell, getting up was a laborious task. If you were unfortunate enough to get any in your eyes, you'd have to remove your helmet to clean it. But worst of all was the fact that you always seemed to panic when you found yourself lying in it. The knight was no different. He scrambled to get up on his feet again but kept slipping.

Erend stabbed him through the neck to put an end to the spectacle.

"You think you can goad me into attacking? Naive."

Anya had taunted him every sparring session since he'd tackled her. She'd justified it as training, but Erend had always suspected it was a way for her to get back at him for hurting her ego. Seeing as it was actually helpful, he couldn't help but feel bad about it.

The knot in his stomach made itself known once again. The guilt was enough to suffocate him. He needed to keep fighting. He needed to keep drowning himself in the anger. He couldn't stand the thought of feeling inadequate.

He turned around to look for another target to help relieve his pain. That's when he locked eyes with the skeletal knight. It sat atop its monstrous steed, overlooking the battle from a hilltop. It smiled at him.

Erend couldn't help but feel that the smile was in mockery of him. He felt his cheeks heat up.

You fucker. I'll wipe that damn smirk off your face.

With elbows, fists, and the sharp edge of his sword, Erend forced his way out of the tumultuous brawl. He broke off in a sprint toward the knight and roused his Source.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't form the glyphs to sharpen the stone into a spike. But he did manage to make it a little more jagged than normal.

Cordelia had said that intent was a large part of forming glyphs. It hadn't been long ago since she'd told him this, but he'd already gotten a glimpse of just how crucial intent was.

He fired the sharp stone.

The Knight laughed.

"Not enough," it rumbled.

The stone came to a stop before even reaching the hulking figure. It harmlessly bounced off an invisible wall.

The skeletal knight drew his sword. It was made of a pale white material that Erend couldn't recognize. The hilt was large enough to grip with both hands.

"My turn," it said with a grin.

Erend felt the ambient Source stir familiarly as the knight readied a Stone Shot.

The stone was remolded and elongated. Its surface hardened into something metallic, its edges sharpened, forming a blade. The air hummed in satisfaction as the knight pointed his ivory sword at him, "Repent."

Erend knew even before the blade was sent his way that it would kill him if he was hit. As he moved to dodge he felt a weight akin to nothing he'd ever felt before fall upon him. Every step required him to overcome his limits. He instantly realized that this was the way he'd die this time, despite his best efforts to survive.

But he did so with a smile. His anger had lessened. He felt content and satisfied with the carnage he'd inflicted on the imaginary battlefield.

The blade hurtled through the air with a deafening howl.

Being aware of the fact that he was about to be impaled left him awfully sensitive to the whole thing. It felt as if he got punched. His breastplate dented inward before giving way to the sharpness of the blade. The bent edges scraped against his skin as the cold of the blade penetrated him. He fell to his knees. The blade got stuck on something inside of him and came to an abrupt stop. Its hilt wobbled gruesomely, twisting the blade in his wound. His eyes were glued to the skeletal figure in rebellion. Something about the whole thing bothered Erend.

As he drew his last breath, he caught a glance of what it was.

His skin...

***

Erend awoke with a jolt.

"What the fuck was that?!" Charles demanded as he shook Erend by the shoulders.

"What was what?" Erend asked, groggily rubbing his eyes.

"The cave shook like it was about to collapse! And you're inside sleeping like a damn baby!"

"Oh. Yeah. My bad. I just had to let off some steam."

Cordelia peeked around the corner, "Since when were you capable of making a noise like that?"

"Not sure. I do know that I won't be able to replicate it for a long time. Not until I learn to form Source glyphs."

"You want to learn?"

"If you'll teach me."

She looked suspiciously at him, then quietly responded, "Okay."

The two were obviously worried about him. And for good reason. He didn't know that was how he'd react to the death of a comrade. Though he probably should have with how he reacted to the death of Sandra...

"Listen. Guys. I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have panicked like that. It was..."

"It was perfectly natural," Johann added as he entered the cave. "We're all shook up about it. But we can't afford to be for long. While you were napping we decided that I'll take the lead for now."

Erend nodded at the man, "Will Bernard still go to Exodus?"

"Yes. The plan remains the same. Anya wouldn't want us to mope around until we get killed. This is a time for action."

Erend had already resolved himself. He'd step up and do what Anya expected of him. He'd grow strong enough to protect everyone.

"I promise to do better from now on."

"I expect you to. But I expect that of everyone. We either improve or we die," Johann shot back resolutely. "Let's all get some rest before the sun rises."

Erend left the cave with the others and headed to his cabin. He felt a tug at the hem of his shirt.

Cordelia's cheeks glowed hot red. Her gaze was aimed at the ground. She quietly mouthed, "Thanks... for helping me with my cabin, I mean."

"Oh? Don't worry about it. If you ever need more help with something like that, just ask. I'm sure dad wouldn't mind helping either."

She nodded carefully but didn't respond. There was something about her look that he couldn't quite understand.

"Was there anything else?" he questioned her.

"No... Sorry. Goodnight."

Confused, he blurted, "Oh, alright. Goodnight."

Erend snuck inside his cabin. The noise he made was disguised by the thunderous snores of his father. He couldn't sleep, not immediately. Instead, he recalled what he'd seen on the skeletal soldier.

His skin was inscribed...