Jack was disgusted with himself. He tried to not let anyone know it, but it was the truth. He saw himself as nothing more than a coward. And it wasn’t just recent events that had made him think so poorly of himself. Although those certainly hadn’t helped.

He wasn’t sure when it started; his hesitation. He knew he wasn’t always like that. He could remember a time when he had taken the initiative, when he had forced down his fears and worries because that’s what he had to do. He didn’t see how now was any different.

The people of the Village stood around the town square—nothing really denoted it as such (It wasn’t even in the center of the Village) but everyone knew that it was. Several people stood in the middle of the crowd, all but one of whom were elders.

“Who do you think we are?” Ogostin, a balding man with a deeply displeased scowl, said to one of the other elders, Poni Ilt. The woman had just proposed something that most elders strongly disagreed with. And it was the reason Jack was in such an awful mood.

“What would you have us do? Wait for the next house to burn?” Poni Ilt asked. Ogostin rolled his weary eyes. “We could request help. Someone from some other village would certainly be willing to assist us.” Poni looked At him as if she saw a child.

“Have we not tried before?”

“But now is a time of deep need. Surely they will find our struggle a worthy cause to rally under now.” Poni Threw her hands up in frustration. The group let their gazes drift, heads shaking in sulum acceptance. “What about Finicks Bay?” Asked another Elder.

“Perhaps if we gather the village's funds we could buy the help of adventurers.” Poni and Ogostin both shook their heads. “No, that would be no different than letting the bandits burn our homes with us in them.” The elderly woman said.

“We need all the money we have for this coming winter. If predictions are right, then it will be a harsh one. Our neighbors over at the mountains have said that they have already lost cattle from flash freezes.” She messaged her exposed boney hands, her finger tips white.

“No, we must find a way to do this without sacrificing our futures for the present.” grumbles from the crowd showed agreement and skepticism. “wouldn't it be fine as long as we do not cross them? Like the note said.” A younger man, the new butcher, said from the larger crowd.

“perhaps. But that would be the same as if we gave our coin to the adventures. We would be penniless by the heart of winter. And even still, that note was less a warning and more a precursor.” Ogostin continued the woman's explanation.

“Although they might have been telling the truth with that letter at the time they wrote it, it is without doubt that they will have gained a new and frightful level of confidence from the attack. They are drunk off blood, and once its effects wear off, they will be out for more.” The young man grimaced and looked down.

“Look,” Poni said irritably. “There's almost almost 200 people in this village. Surely we can overwhelm them with numbers.” Ogostin looked at her disbelievingly. “Poni, we're farmers and craftsmen. Their bandits who've fought against other Men, won, and killed them. Perhaps we would win, but how many of us would it cost?”

“Perhaps if we came up with a proper plan to attack them, we could make every man matter.” Poni countered, causing the man's face to flush with anger. “Maybe you haven't noticed, you old hag, but we aren't strategists!”

The square fell silent. Everyone knew that the elders, the unofficial leaders of the village, were always at each other's throats, what with them each trying to gain the favor of the villagers, but those battles had always happened behind doors…

“What if I can offer you a middle path?” Said the voice of a stranger. All eyes fell onto a young, blond haired man. His face was handsome, but also touched by unusual burns.

“Let's hear it, then. A new voice might bring a shred of sense into the light.” Came the voice of Hulick, the oldest of the elders.

Tay cleared his throat and looked into the eyes of the two arguing leaders. “I propose a draft. Any able-bodied man who is willing to fight will be allowed to do so. And I will be there to deal with anyone who the conscripted cannot.” murmurs filled the air in an eerie hush, and Jack was slowly becoming aware of a faint fog rolling across the foothills to the east.

“Well…” Ogostin hesitated. “The draft is a…decent suggestion. But how do you expect us to believe not only that you are trustworthy, but that you are capable of fighting their strongest? We know they have magic wielders.” Tay looked at Jack.

“As for the first, I have no proof of my involvement with the bandits except that I was not involved with the burning of the shoe shop. Mr. Jack Meyer can vouch for me.” glances fluttered to the 16 year old, and he coughed, shuffled, and nodded uncomfortably. Tay shot him an apologetic look before continuing.

“And I suspect that their magic wielders are far below subpar.” Hulick cocked his sickly head. “How do you figure?”

“Their thieves with magic.” He explained. “As thieves, they're looking for the best place to turn a profit while staying alive. As magicians, their power determines where they can conduct their best business. Here, although there's not much of relative worth—forgive my offense—it provides little risk. As is clear here, the people of small villages feel that either they are incapable of action, or by the time they take it, the thieves have already moved on and done their damage. But because they are still here, that tells me with near certainty that they are still weak.”

“And you're confident you can defeat them? Even If there's more than one whom we can not beat?” Poni Ilt asked. Tay nodded seriously. “Then let us vote.” Hulick said, raising his hand. “I agree with our guest. All those in favor?” Four hands raised along with him.

“All those against?” Three hands raised

“Mr. Mallor. It seems our fates rest on your shoulders. I hope it is not misplaced.”

The town was buzzing. The villagers threw all manor of farm tools into piles for the conscripted to choose from. Swords were instantly given to the more physical fit upon Tay's request. Horses were round up, fitted with saddles and as much leather as possible to protect them. The village was, quite sadly, lacking in the way of proper armor.

At most, people were given saddle pads with holes cut out For their heads. The fabric was thick, and would at least protect against slashes. Bows were the most common commodity as, even if most people weren't proper hunters, most still had bows and arrows for dire times.

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When Tay had convinced the elders to follow his plan, the first thing he did was to ask for hunters and trackers, of which three came up to him. He had asked them for one thing: find the bandits' hideout. The three men, not entirely unfamiliar with dangerous circumstances, set out immediately.

Tay spent the next few hours looking over the 34 people who had volunteered for the fight. Most were far from adequate. Most were soft craftsmen; people who created things like clothes, vases, and trinkets. But They at least had a spark of fire. They had to be able to fight. The ones who Tay took note of, however, were the hard craftsmen. Farmers, woodworkers, and the blacksmith. They would stand the best chance, he knew. If not for their battle prowess, then for their large builds.

After that, he had been stopped.

“No.” Tay and Emma both said in unison. Emma had come to the village when Tay and Jack hadn't returned. Thomas was watching over the house.

“but you'll need everybody you can get!” Jack pleaded. “That everyone does not include you, Jack.” Emma said.

“And besides, we have enough.” Tay lied.they could never have enough, but he doubted the bandits could be more than 20. “Please, Tay!” He looked at the adventurer with swelling eyes. “I need to do this.” his mother looked at him with concern. “To do what?” Jack winced.

“They stole everything, Ma. Our horse, almost all of our money, our clothes and shoes, and I did nothing!” his voice rose louder and more pained with every word. “I just stood there and gave them what they wanted. I gave them Thomas’s clothes and shoes. I am the reason we had to walk back! I–” his mother hugged him, and the rest of his words were cut off.

But before anyone could say anything else, yells and shouts came from the edge of the square. The hunters had returned.

“Well?” Tay asked anxiously. The lead hunter shook his head. “We found them, but it's not good. We counted 30 in total.” Tay looked down, a hand on his face.

“Where?”

“The shepherds farm.”

“we're going to need more people.”

The fog Jack had seen now hung thickly in the air around the attacking party. The western forest was like something out of a fairytale; He could barely see 30 yards away. 41 other people were trudging through the woodland, All of them trying to stay quiet. Of course, they were only so successful. Not everyone was a hunter who had spent their whole lives practicing stealth.

After the revelation that the three hunters had brought with them, they had managed to recruit another seven people, including Jack. It had been a struggle to convince his mother, but Tay had become far more open to the idea of another able-bodied fighter, and his mother soon followed. He hated leaving her. He hated the expression he saw. It was far too similar to the one she wore when their father died.

But he wasn't going to die. Not today. He was going to prove something, and he had no intention of dying before then.

The large, white-fenced paddock of the shepherd's farm was soon visible. Instantly, Jack noticed that there were no animals. It could have been that someone had put them up while the fog came through, but the faint red marks on the ground made that an unlikely scenario.

Slowly, the party made their way over the fences and to the large farmhouse and barn. The hunters had said that the bandits were using the large red barn as their main base, and it looked to be true. Just far enough away to not be easily visible, they could see faint blurs moving around a red background.

A snap came from beside Jack, and everyone turned to look. Tays hand was raised and three fingers were ready. Slowly, he put them down. With each one, it felt as if time was slowing down, and his heart with it. As the last finger hung, Jack lost his breath.

Then screams broke loose.

The party charged, a few yelling as adrenaline surged through them. The bandits standing guard returned the cries and started towards them. They all had swords.

Bow strings twanged all around, seeming to echo forever in the fog. Soon, metal clashed with metal. The sound of yet flesh smacking into the ground followed. Jack tried to get into the fight, but it was happening too quick.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash. It was Tay. His blade was red hot, glowing brightly, creating an almost blinding effect against the mist. He cut down three men in only six swings and quickly moved to the barn like a man possessed.

The battle outside was won easily; there hadn't been enough of the thieves to stand much of a chance. But Jack did notice more than one body on the ground that he recognized.

The inside of the barn was where their charge began to slow. The barn was a two story building with the bottom being made up of dozens of stalls, once used for livestock, but now filled with cots and living nesecites. Jack instantly noticed a foul stench coming from the far side of the barn.

At either side of the large barn door, there were two ladders. at Their bases, as if they had been dropped, were swords and blood. The sound of fighting was almost deafening, but Jack could faintly hear yells and battle cries from outside. The house… He thought.

He saw flashes of fire coming from upstairs, and he left the first story. The battle was still in their favor.

The scene he saw as he climbed the ladder was something he could have only ever dreamed of. Two men fought. One wielded a sword, and the other a battle ax. The sword was glowing so brightly that it hurt it look at. The ax was coated in a layer of water that looked like ice with its pressure and speed.

The two men clashed with such force that shook the building, dust falling from the ceiling. Steam hissed with every blow, puffing into the air. It was impossible to tell who was winning.

Then Jack saw movement. A man was lying on the ground, his head lying against a wall. He slowly raised himself up, grabbing a sword beside him. Shaking his head, he walked forward, his blade slowly rising. The man wielding the ax saw, and kept the swordsman’s back to the oncoming attacker.

He raised his hands, both of which gripped the hilt with whiting force. Then he tumbled to the ground. Jack had moved without thinking, and put a wood cutting ax in the man's chest.

The bandit lay on the floor, his limbs flailing and pushing against the wood beneath him. He tried to grasp for breath, but with no luck. He tried to scream, but there was no air for him to make a sound. Blood spurted from his mouth and chest. He tried to pull out the weapon, but did not budge.

Jack watched with wide eyes. He was in so much pain…he was hurting so horribly. He would die soon, and all he would feel in pain.

Jack took a step back. Pain. Pain… the man turned on his side, spitting out blood. His limbs only twitched now. But his eyes looked around for something.

Jack took another step back. Then he stopped. He coursed that pain. He did this. That wasn't what he wanted, was it? He just

wanted to get back at them, he just wanted to prove that he wasn't a coward.

He stopped towards the man, taking a knife from his belt. He laid a hand head, steadying it. The man's eyes turned towards him. They were pleading. He didn't know what expression he was making, but he guessed it calmed the dying bandit, because he closed his eyes.

Jack lowered the blade to his heart, pressing it lightly against his skin. Pushing…push! He screamed at himself. He couldn't do it. The thought of sliding the knife into another person made him want to vomit.

Then hand rested over his. A sword dropped to the ground, a large crack along its width. He looked and saw Tay. His eyes were sad, but determined. He added force onto the blade and slipped it into the man's heart. The body twitched a moment, and then finally fell still.

“This is the price for so-called ‘courage.’” Tay said from behind him. Jack nodded, looking back and seeing the barn almost destroyed. A man lying dead on the floor at the center of utter carnage. He looked, and his eyes came back to bandits.

“It's not for everybody. Not this kind of courage. You showed a different kind when you offered to carry your bother even when you knew your feet would freeze.” He turned Jack so that his eyes were level with Tays.

“People have skills in all kinds of different things. Some are cooks, others are great painters. None of them are worriers. And if they are, I doubt they are 16. If you must, use them to make up for any lack of courage you might feel.”