This was all for Anna.

That was the thought that burned through Imp’s mind as she looked out on Delden Town through a different set of eyes. She had no idea who Anna was, she had no idea who’s eyes she was looking through, but she could feel the desperation behind the sentiment.

A crowd had gathered outside the chapel in Delden Town. At first, Imp thought she was standing among a funeral procession. There was a somber attitude among those that stood waiting. There were nearly twenty of them and she did not recognize any of their faces.

What she did recognize was their posture and their gear. They with the relaxed ease of soldiers, their cloaks barely covered tanned armor, and hilts peeked out from their hips. If Imp had not been among them, looking through a stranger’s eyes, she would have moved away from the group instinctively. Armed strangers…

Her thoughts seemed to freeze with a realization about who she stood among. These were not locals. Neither were they a contingent of soldiers passing through. These were the bandits that destroyed Delden Town. Knowing glances passed from stranger to stranger as they waited for something to change.

The bell atop the chapel rung. It tolled five times to mark the hours since sunrise. The doors to the chapel opened and the residents of Delden Town started to filter out. The strangers dispersed ahead of them and formed a wall between the residents and their destinations. The residents moved as if in an illusion, not noticing the wall ahead of them. It wasn’t until one of the bandits drew a sword from their side that the crowd swelled back toward the chapel.

A voice suddenly called out. “Warning was sent to your leaders! Now comes the cost!”

It must have been the leader of the bandits. Imp was not sure what he was talking about, but she saw the recognition on a few faces. Her father and a priest stepped through the crowd. It was not the same priest that Imp had met in the chapel after the destruction of Delden Town. This priest was older, softer, and had a look of severe disappointment painted across his face. Her father, on the other hand, looked impossibly ancient.

In her own memory, Imp remembered the stalwart knight that her father was. However, as time passed while she adventured, he had changed. His hair and beard were now flocked with white. His frame had shrunk to that of a normal person. His eyes were full of an emotion Imp did not know he could have: fear.

Despite that, he still wore a sword on his side and his hand was rested carefully on the pommel. The priest was the one who spoke up, “As we responded to your letter, Horace, we have nothing to offer your men. No money, no grain, no shelter. Can you not turn from this path?”

“This path?” A voice from the crowd mocked. It was the same voice as before. However, now the bandits parted slightly. Horace walked out to stand against Imp’s father and the priest. If the group had looked like soldiers to Imp at first, Horace was clearly their commander. He reminded Imp more of her father than the aging version of her father who stood next to the priest.

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The priest nodded, “You feel betrayed by the state. You left the service after Rannow Fields… Would you do the same to others that has been done to you?”

Horace let out a grim laugh. Rannow Fields meant nothing to Imp, she had heard of the settlement but nothing else. The stranger Imp was tethered within had a visceral reaction to it though. That reaction seemed to rush through the bandits until it reached Horace.

A bandit from beyond the wall of bodies shouted, “Do not speak of the fields!”

A roar of noise started to build, causing the residents of Delden Town to back up against the chapel entrance. Horace raised a hand, the noise quieted. He spoke in a firm tone, “Do not bring the pain of others into this. You were notified. Warning as appropriate with the service was granted you. Yet… no response came and I did not see our bounty collected when we entered the streets.”

Imp could see a barely contained rage on her father’s features as Horace mocked the service that they both came from. The priest set a hand on his shoulder and then let out a deeply frustrated sigh. “We have no coin for you and your men. Nor do we have any grain or goods to offer instead. Rannow Fields was not the only-”

Now it was Horace’s turn to lose composure, “Rannow Fields was the only! Where are your wounds, priest? Your families were well protected here with the state’s spice! I bet a whole order of knights stood at the ready on the roads nearby while our lands were razed!”

There was no answer to that. Imp could see on the faces of all the residents of Delden Town that there was nothing they could say to refute Horace’s claim. Imp realized who Anna was at that moment, the stranger who she was tethered to was thinking of a sick bed. A woman lay wasting away from an infection and the cost of treatment was too much.

A young voice broke the silence from the townsfolk side, “Who cares! You swore to protect these lands! Now you’re all brigands!”

This time the roar came from the Delden side, the priest tried to quell the noise like Horace had done to the bandits. It did not work. Screaming started to surge from both sides. Horace and Imp’s father squared off against each other.

Imp watched as one of the state’s most famous swords was silently drawn into her father’s hand. A dark red blade that was rumored to have been forged from dragon blood and titan bones. “In service of this land and under the provisions of the state, I declare you and your men to be unlawfully extorting a township. On my name, Jakkob Morosia, you will turn back or face punishment.”

As he spoke, Imp saw the strength return to her father’s features. He stood level with Horace now, his sword calmly raised in a guarding position. Horace frowned at the sight, “I have no desire to cross swords with you, Sir. Put your blade away and provide the bounty. Only then will we leave.”

While the two men faced off, the young voice from the Delden side called out again, “Just leave!”

However, instead of just words, magic flared to life. A rush of energy filled the core as everyone looked for the source. The bandits were caught just as unaware. Then a flame erupted from by the chapel door as the one who shouted for the bandits to leave was revealed in magical light.

He was dressed like a discount sorcerer but the fireball that flared in his upturned palm was powerful enough to sear his hand immediately. Imp saw her father’s eyes turn cold. He shouted, “Merrill, no!”

Horace grimaced, “Raise a barrier!”

The ball of flame shot upward like a shot from a catapult. When it arced through the air, it split into five streaks of flame. A wisp of blue formed at the front of the bandits, a barrier that blossomed with fire as three of the bolts exploded against it. Then the fourth bolt slipped through cracks in the barrier and struck just in front of Imp’s eyes.

She was thrown backward as bandits rushed forward. She felt something sharp stick between her shoulder blades just before the void consumed her again.