Ayla's heart was beating quickly. Her hands were hot from gripping her sword and her whole body was wound up tight. It was the feeling she felt when she was participating in a battle. The smell was viscerally right. Blood. It was like that night, when there was so much blood that the scent could not even be carried away by the wind. She felt something over her right shoulder so she turned, narrowly avoiding a Halberd jab and returned with a jab into the man's neck. She stared at the one she just killed and it took a few seconds for it to sink in.

'Hadley? I just killed-' A pit formed in her stomach.

`What am I doing… Have I done it again?` She felt a dejected sensation beneath the excitement and adrenaline she always felt after taking a life during a battle.

“Why are you doing this!?” Miller shouted at her hoarsely, moving himself into a rudimentary stance. He was wearing a cowled helm but she could tell it was him. He held his long-sword in both hands and kept his stance low. A good idea and execution, but against the wrong opponent. She dismantled his stance with her eyes without even thinking about doing so. His sword was extended far in front of him, leaving his back and side open to someone like her who had the speed to get around.

Samson, standing near Miller, pulled up his shield and placed his short-sword in a position to jab if she attacked.

“It's no use. It's no use trying to talk to these Zealots. The Holy Murderers is what most people call them.” He gritted his teeth. More Knights readied their blades as Samson and Miller and the soldiers closed in on her methodically. She found it fitting in her current mindset that they were utilising the same techniques they would if they were trying to eliminate a monster.

“This one? She’s the worst of them.”

Ayla felt it should have been different. It had to be different. Everything she had learned and decided since coming back told her they were innocent. They were good people.

`They do not deserve to die.`

Instead, even though her mind protested, her face twisted the same as it did back then. Indignity, conceit. She was looking down on them with her expression while her mind screamed internally for things to be different.

“Traitors to humanity have no right to complain.” She uttered in a condemning tone, coiling her arm over her left shoulder with the point of her sword pointing back..

'No… We’re different, now.' She felt a wash of uncertainty as her mind failed to reason with her body.

`I’m trying.` As she thought that she targeted Samson first. He raised his shield to block and soldiers ran up to flank him on either side, creating a wall of men that would have penned any normal Knight in. Ayla knew that it was going to be a slaughter. It was a slaughter.

'Samson has a wife.' She thought as everything played out just as it did in her previous life. Ayla concentrated her Aura onto her sword, then released her wound back sword into a wide horizontal slash across the entire formation of Knights and soldiers. Her Aura licked out from her sword in a bright blue crescent. Samson negated it with his shield and his Soma, but the men all around them fell apart like straw dogs. Those that could raise their guard had their weapons cut and a deep gash carved into their chest while those that were too slow were simply cut in half. No individual without power could defend against an attack using Aura. She knowingly struck in the most efficient way possible in order to kill them quickly and move on to just the Knights. She feigned towards the front of Samson, a move that was devious and methodical in the wake of such a powerful frontal attack. He lifted his shield.

`I remember this moment. He was clever. He kept his eyes on me but he could not account for what happened next.`

Ayla ducked down, hiding her whole body within the shadow of his shield, then wheeled around once he had lost sight of her at a speed already difficult to react to. This version of her body could keep up with her senses. It made her untouchable against those who were as strong, or weaker than her. With an upwards flick of her wrist towards the back of his neck Samson's head lifted from his body, and his body tumbled down like a puppet with cut strings.

“Ryan! No!” Miller cried out. He charged forward blindly. There was nothing she could do but kill him if things played out the same way. He was more open than Samson. He was asking to be killed.

'Why is this happening again?' Ayla lamented.

'Why can't I move the way I want to?' The version of her that was playing an actor to the events of the past smiled cruelly as she stepped around each of Miller’s fast attacks while preparing her own. She was trying to end him. She was a predator, but not one that played with her food. She was simply merciless and cold. Cruelty and torture were good when they servered her purpose and bad when they did not. There was zero moral or ethical calculation; just usefulness and uselessness. To her, gloating to make Miller even more erratic was useful.

“Your friend? He was far too slow for having such a weak neck. I’m surprised it wasn’t cut years ago.”

'He is a person. But… Do I even care, now, or am I simply forcing myself to care because I know I should? Do these deaths mean anything to me?' Ayla was so confused. Dejectedly she thought.

`The reality is I don’t care. I just don’t. But… I want to? How am I supposed to care about these people? How do I do it? Why did Sol bring me back without any idea HOW to do that?` She felt her mind darken.

`My fate is to repeat the same actions over and over again, and not care, and not know… Because I am a-`

“Monster!” Miller spat at her, once he understood that he was never in any condition to hit her. Her sword stabbing up towards his throat in clear view told him that she was not thinking or feeling. She was not even enjoying herself. She was a machine that pumped blood and sometimes spilled it without feeling. His eyes went wide as the tip pushed into his neck, then through, then back out. Ayla forgot those eyes, but was reminded at that moment. The stare that saw her as something similar to a demon. It was not a strange stare for her to receive. Miller fell forward, flat on his face, twitching as he bled out.

After Miller, the last Knight fell, the Second and First Prince rode up the hill to meet her. Caelin whistled as he stared across the bloodsoaked land in front of the manor. There were at least seven Knights and twenty soldiers that fell before her outside the doors.

“I can see that it was nothing but disappointment up here, as well.” Caelin sighed.

“None of them wanted to surrender?”

“I was supposed to ask, Your Highness?” Ayla wiped the blade of her sword on her sleeve.

“I suppose not. But did any of them beg?”

“No. They all fought until the end. Even the soldiers.” Caelin considered her a dog that could be leashed and unleashed at his leisure because she acted like one; she was one. She enjoyed the ease of it. In her past life she never saw the irony of being passionate about killing monsters and criminals all while acting as a chained animal. Ayla had to acknowledge in her current life that she had found the position that best fit her desires.

“Most of the quality Knights were guarding the town and they all fought to the end as well.. We thought it would be reversed. Caelin worried for you. Imagine our surprise when Rast showed up in front of us.” Nealin teased. Ayla exhaled in frustration. She wanted to challenge herself against a Knight with Shape. An old one like Rast was a perfect candidate. Ayla had none, even after a decade of training. In theory it made her inadequate, but she did everything she could to strengthen her basic Aura control to the point that she was a Named Knight, just without the name.

“How strange. They placed their worst fighters around their most important person?” She stepped over some of the bodies and kicked them to check for survivors, intent on stabbing through the bodies if there were.

“The Duke must be confident in his own abilities.”

Caelin smiled at her with more than a little malice behind it. “I suppose you wouldn’t understand. You would say it’s confidence in one’s abilities. It looks to me like he cared for his people quite a bit.”

Ayla was surprised. It was an exchange she did not remember. `Was Caelin complimenting Castezin at the time? He was scolding me. Did he already have it in his head to use me by this point, I wonder? Not that it matters.`She dreaded what she was going to say next.

“Then my men burning the town below should have already drawn him out. It’s annoying if they’re being burned for nothing.”

“Who told you to do that, by the way?” Caelin lifted one of his golden brows.

“I figured it would not make much sense to leave so many alive if their lord was in fact supposed to be a monster. It should cover our tracks. Just say that they were thralls.” She kicked one of the bodies.

“These, too. Thralls, unfortunately.”

“She’s not wrong, brother.” Nealin interjected with a wide smirk.

'Why am I seeing this?' She whined. She dreaded the rest of the events that were to come. In the past the things that happened in the manor did not stop at murder. There was torture, forced confessions.

`I was only thinking about making our story work better. At the time I didn’t care that I was using human lives for that purpose.`

As she reached the door something new happened. The heavy doors to the manor burst open and the Duke lunged out, slicing a scratch across her cheek. It was too fast for her to react; a strange and jarring thing for her to feel.

“You found me.” He said coldly. As she looked closer, however, there was a strange twinkle in his golden eyes.

She felt the blood and found that she could move her body again for one simple reason. It was a reason she could guess and it terrified her.

'This never happened. I am now in control because this never happened. What is happening?'

The Duke smiled at her. “Did you enjoy killing my people, Dame?”

Her lips curled into a smile she could not control and one of her eyes twitched. Ayla shook her head. She did not enjoy it because she did not care one way or another. That is what she wanted to say. Instead, she felt the truth drawn from her, and the words came naturally and she felt them to be a truth that not even she often admitted.

“Yes. I enjoyed it.” Her head was spinning, spiralling. Her lips curled into a small smile at first, then a wider one as seconds passed.

“I did… I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it! Hah… Haha…” She chuckled, but then held her mouth, trying to stop herself.

‘No need to hold back.This is you. This is who you are, right? A wolf in wool. Why are you here, dame? To bite my hand?”

“I…” She looked to her left and her right. She was alone without Caelin or Nealin or anyone else. She felt her own natural emotions, thoughts, feelings and desires rise up so easily. Rather than play into them any longer she shut her eyes tight.

“Your Grace...” She dropped to her knees and tried to let go over her sword but she could not let go.

The Duke seemed amused. “You seem to want to fight what you are but your hand will NEVER be able to let go of that sword, will it? What will you do?” He wondered out loud.

“Will you wield it against my subjects, against myself? Or will you do something that should have been done long ago.” As he said that she felt her hand move. The blade twisted and turned, pointing towards her own neck. She breathed heavily and lifted her chin as the sharp point could be felt beneath it.

“Answer.” He looked down his nose at her as she lowered herself further.

“Please believe me, Your Grace, I want to change.” She was sweating profusely and tearing up, not only because of the sword she had at her own neck, but the implication that it was all useless. Her whole second like. If it meant nothing she might as will just push the blade into her own neck to stop it all from happening. A moment before doing just that she remembered her resolve. Her eyes shot open, wide and bloodshot.

“I can change!” She let out forcefully. Her hands failed to drop the sword but loosened slightly. Ayla looked down at her shaking hands. They were empty, but she was sweating. Her body felt incredibly hot and her mind was foggy.

“F-fever dream?” She looked around, confused at how real it all felt. She stood up regardless and donned her uniform. It was muggy inside her coat, but she was still shivering. She blew her nose, then decided it was best to just plug both nostrils instead.

“Ah...What should I-” As she wondered what she should do she eyed the Cowl-helm she was given in addition to the cuirass. The helm given to the Knights was more like a hood of chain lined with fur that had a solid face guard at the front.

`This could work.` She thought dizzily.

Miller noticed the small change immediately as soon as Ayla left the quarters with the helm on. He covered his mouth with the side of his fist and chuckled.

“I guess you realised how cold it gets. You can't just dress for how it feels when the sun's still up. Even Samson and I bring our helms with us just in case it gets cold.” He advised.

Ayla nodded, wanting to avoid speaking as much as possible. She grabbed her horse that Miller brought out for her. She allowed herself a few words to protest the treatment. “People will start thinking I'm lazy.”

He grinned stubbornly. “We're comrades so doing this much is fine.” Miller mounted his own horse.

“Don’t even think about waking up before me. If you wake up early, I'll have to wake up earlier than that and if I have to wake up earlier than that I'll get sick.” He joked.

“Is that so?” Ayle breathed, surrendering the point. She did not have the energy to argue.

Samson groaned. “Don't let this bastard get sick. He's gonna expect me to nurse him back to health.”

“You two are that close?” She spoke softly, trying not to cough or breathe too strangely.

'Even in my dream... Even back at that time the two of them were partners. Friends. They don’t stick together out of convenience.' Ayla shut her eyes, content to just rest them as her horse moved forward on his own.

`I wonder what that’s like?`

The two continued speaking. “I can't escape from this guy because we're neighbours.” Samson complained.

“Neighbours?” Ayla asked. They were all neighbours in the barracks, technically. A strange term to use.

“My property is next to his, but Samson is super old. Way older than us.” Miller teased.

The older Knight rolled his eyes. “Yeah... I was old enough to look after you when you were dripping snot. Maybe our new Knight wants to hear-”

“No no! That's not necessary!” Miller insisted, raising his hands apologetically.

“Then be nice. I'm only six years older than you... I already found a wife when I was your age, by the way.” As Samson said that Miller clutched his chest as if he had been stabbed. He made a motion like he was going to fall off his horse.

“Please... You're so cruel.” Miller whined.

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“You both own property?” Ayla was not surprised to hear that, but she had not thought about it until this moment. Miller did sound like a last name,a s did Samson.

“It's not that odd, is it? We had the luxury to train and become Knights because of the status of our families. Otherwise we would be working someone else's land for scraps.

“It's probably the same for you, right Ayla?”

“I am actually a commoner that would be working on someone else's land in any other circumstance.” Ayla said it with no bitterness, but the two men could not help but look at her apologetically. She did not feel like she needed those stares.

'I wonder if I should have said anything? I don't care one way or another. The only name I need is the one I was given at birth, but to others this type of thing is important. I may be looked down on, now. It was always like that at the Capital.'

Contrary to what she thought, both Samson and Miller looked at her in amazement. “Holy shit! You became a Knight as a commoner?” Samson remarked, pointing to her while holding his head with his other hand.

Ayla responded bashfully. “It's not that impressive.”

“Tell that to those guys back there.” Miller pointed to the formation of soldiers marching behind with a wide grin. Ayla looked back to see their cheeks red with their eyes as big as saucers.

“Dame...” Hadley held his hands up in prayer.

“Do you think I could become a Knight?”

“That-” She was searching for a polite answer.

Thankfully Mayson interjected playfully. “If an idiot like you can become a Knight then this territory is doomed.”

“I bet I could become a Knight 'because' I'm the right kinda idiot!” Hadley argued. The soldiers laughed and Miller and Samson laughed with them. On the tail end of the laughter Ayla found herself cracking a little. She couldn't help but let out a short laugh, followed by a few rough coughing fits that she cut out swiftly by holding her mouth. She looked up to see that Samson and Miller were staring at her.

“Hey...” Miller began.

“Are you okay?” Samson asked seriously.

“Yeah. I'm fine. I swallowed saliva down the wrong pipe.”

They both sighed, looking relieved. “Got it.” Miller seemed to be keeping a close eye on her still, however.

Ayla tried to change the subject. “You both have names?”

Miller flushed a little as he said. “You can call me Zach, if you like, Ayla. Prefer we stand on even ground since I call your name so often and it’s the only one you got.” He gave a cheeky little bow.

“Zachary Miller, at your service, my lady.”

Samson joined in. “Ryan Samson... But still call me Samson for now.” Ayla nodded to him with respect. He explained:

“My father was a Knight that was granted land when he was young. Names ending with 'Son' are a northern tradition. Typically I would have that as a first name and it would tell anyone that heard it who my father was. Since he got land, he decided to give me both names to mix the traditions. He made sure our last name was Samson and gave me my first name.”

“Grayson, Mason...” Ayla repeated out loud.

The two of them smiled. “That's right. Those are our only names, though.”

“Don't get me wrong. I'd be proud even if I only had one name, since it's the one I was given by my Dad. Ayla, you should be proud, too. You've done something very few people can do.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “Thank you.” She could not help but be guilty.

'I killed this man in my dreams last night.'

Miller laughed. “Samson is an idol for all the Northerners living in Castezin!”

“Don't say something so stupid in front of me.” Samson gagged.

Ayla breathed steadily. She enjoyed the conversation. 'I feel lighter when I’m around Samson and Miller. Samson as well... He gives off the feeling of her father; but only the good parts. His attitude is about right to be the ideal dad.' She almost laughed as she imagined him in her head cursing her out for implying he was old enough to remind her of her father. As she held in laughter she felt a sharp jab in her head.

'Ah... That is right. I'm sick.' She closed her eyes and just breathed.

'My head hurts and my body is sore... But it's all just pain, Ayla. Get over it.` She thought harshly.

With Ayla’s mindset, time passed slowly, but it passed and the day was nearly done. As the patrol wound down and the sun was dipping below the trees they changed course towards the Wintergreen as they did the previous night. Ayla moved to separate herself from them. She wanted to rest.

“Oi, Ayla!” Miller asked.

“Aren't you coming?”

“I'm sure your man Hans is working.” Samson teased. He absorbed a dirty look from his fellow Knight.

She tried not to raise her voice too much, otherwise her sickness would show in how she sounded.

“I'm going to go back early tonight.” As hard as she tried there was still a faint rasp to it that she could not avoid, but she guessed it was fine.

They nodded and left for the tavern. Ayla slowly made her way up the path towards the Manor. She made it through the gates. She brought her horse to the stables and looked after him and fed him before leaving straight for the quarters.

“Hey!” She jumped as she was just about to get to the door. It was Miller's voice.

“Yes?” She turned.

“Remove your helm.” He dismounted.

“I am going to do so inside.” She argued.

“I'm not asking, Ayla.” He said with a sternness she had not heard before.

“I'm telling you to do so as your senior here.”

She sighed heavily and lifted the cowl helm off of her head. What she revealed was a flush face with her silver eyes darkened below. Her expression was subtly pained, as she had been enduring all day. Miller clenched his fist.

“God damn it...” He stomped towards her.

“I- I'm sorry. My work won't be affected I promise. I can still go on-”

“No you can't!” He snapped back at her harshly.

“Get inside.”

Ayla was speechless. She made her way into her room with Miller trailing behind her. As she entered, Miller stood at her door, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was frustrated and began speaking in an exasperated tone.

“I'm sorry for yelling. Don't do anything. Get into bed and stay there. Leave your door unlatched. I'm gonna be back after I stable my horse.”

“Okay.” Ayla felt a lump in her throat. She disappeared into her room and left it unlatched as he asked. She removed her armour and uniform and did not even bother folding them before climbing into bed as obedient as a scolded child. As soon as she pulled herself under the covers the chills washed over her. Exhaustion hit her. She could last throughout the whole day but it was like hitting a wall the moment she stopped.

“Dammit, my head...”

After what felt like an eternity Miller returned with a bucket of steaming water filled with items, and a bowl of something that smelled savoury. He placed the bucket beside her bed and the bowl on her nightstand. He pulled up a stool beside her bed and sat there, covering his mouth with his hand. It seemed like he was holding something back as he took in her fevered appearance. Finally he took a deep breath and pulled a cloth from the bucket. He rang it out and placed it on her forehead.

“Miller...”

“Shut up.” He grumbled.

'This isn't the south, Ayla.”

She breathed heavily. “I can-”

“Listen!” He raised his voice again.

“Knights are the best tool to kill Monsters, but sickness and the cold up here kills Knights and commoners and anyone that underestimates it all the same. You can die here. It wouldn't be strange for you to not wake up tomorrow. Do you get that?” He sounded close to tears.

“I'm sorry, Miller.” She eyed the bowl.

He smiled weakly. “I just did what I could do. I called the doctor, too.”

She frowned deeply and tried to sit up. “I don't want to cause trouble so soon after I-”

Miller pushed her down easily. “You already caused trouble.” He seemed to hate to say it, but quickly he added.

“Ayla... If you can't take care of yourself out there I'm going to recommend to Rast you be relieved of duty.”

She lay back, recognition washing over her finally from just that. `It is probably the kindest thing he could say to me. It’s what I needed to hear. I was seriously stupid to threaten my future over this.` She turned her head, staring at him in disbelief.

`No one’s ever done something like this for me before.`

“Understand?” He asked insistently.

Ayla nodded slowly. “It's sinking in. I guess this is the part where I say I owe you.”

He wiped his eyes. “You make it sound like you’ve never owed someone before.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“If you get better, consider us even. I'm going to wait here until the Doctor arrives.” True to his word he sat like that for close to an hour. At some point he decided to help her eat the soup he brought. After that he kept fussing over her, replacing the towel as soon as it started to cool. As time passed Ayla began to feel light-headed. Delirious.

“Miller...”

“Yeah?”

“Back at the Tavern that night you were sad when I came out from the back?”

He looked embarrassed and scratched his cheek. His eyes avoided hers. “Ah, is that so? I was a bit drunk, so forgive me for making a fool of myself.”

Ayla nodded her forgiveness. “Miller.” She looked at him.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me? This is-” In her addled mind, her usual reasoning still prevailed. To her, Miller had no good reason to help her in such a way unless it was him liking her.

The man threw his head back and groaned. “This- this doesn't have anything to do with whether I like you or not. I just don't want someone to die in my care.” He seemed sullen. She could tell that there was a weight that he felt from some unknown source. It pulled his shoulders down and his posture forward. Hung his head low. Ayla was amazed that he of all people had something dragging him down.

There was a knock on the door after they shared a very long silence together. Miller let a tall, pale older man in. He had dark hair that was greying around the sides. He looked down at Ayla grimly.

“So... How did we get sick?” He asked. The doctor had the accent of a foreign kingdom.

“Do you know, Ayla?” Miller coaxed from the door.

“I... Wanted to be clean so I took a cold shower at night. Could that be the reason?”

They stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief. The Doctor cracked an annoyed smile. “So... We will be putting this one out of her misery tonight?” He asked..

“She is already so eager to die.”

“No! No...” Miller rubbed his eyes.

“Oh my god, Ayla.” He sounded so tired and upset.

“What?” She rasped.

“You are so stupid...” He shook, then slowly his annoyance shifted. His eyes became misty as he fought back laughter.

“So, so stupid.” He wiped his eyes. The doctor helped him up. He stopped, trying to breathe.

“Fuck… You better get better, you hear? I’m gonna feel like shit if I laughed at you before you died.”

The Doctor added. “You know... Normally it is common sense that the body does not want you to bathe in cold water in the cold.” The Doctor said in a demeaning tone, taking the stool that Miller sat at rather forcefully.

“Every part of you should tell you that it is not a good idea.”

“I-” She coughed.

“I don't have trouble with pain so I thought it was fine.”

He took in air through his nose. “Ah, you are just like that madman, I see...”

“Huh?” She stared at him questioningly.

“The one in the Manor. The one people call a Duke for some reason I can not understand.” Ayla blinked. She assumed she was still just being incredibly out of it to mishear to such an extent.

“Nerve Alignment, is it?”

“Yes.”

“You have endured a great amount of pain for a great return. But, just because you can endure does not mean you should. It also does not mean that your body is capable of keeping up with your will. You hear me?”

“Yes.” Ayla nodded.

“Good. You have a strong constitution. You will be fine if you rest and keep movement to a minimum. Stay warm. Your body fights the sickness best when you are warm. Drink and eat warm things and remain warm even if you sweat and it is uncomfortable. Sleep as much as you can, do not try to stay awake. It goes without saying you will not work while you are sick. If this persists... You will be buried without a coffin or headstone in the woods, so focus on getting better.” He said sweetly, patting her hand gently with his old cracked hand once he was done.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Surprised by the curt responses to his strange speech, he stood up and bowed. “You are welcome, my dear. I have a feeling Zachary will insist on being your caretaker. Be kind to him in the future.” Ayla closed her eyes. Sleep was not hard. Not as she was now. She simply drifted off as soon as she was left alone.