For the rest of the night, and the entire day after Hans was racked with horrendous pain.Stomach turning pain became a sensation of blood boiling in his veins, with his heart beating inhumanly fast. He found himself wondering how he was even alive, and if he should wish he was not. Haron was not present throughout most of the day until she returned near sundown. Though, Hans had no concept of time so he just had to take their word for what time it was. Every minute felt like an eternity, so he tried not to ask often. When Haron returned she placed several gathered herbs next to a bowl on the carpet. Carefully she plucked leaves and parts while measuring the quantities. In some cases she stripped odd bits off of the plants and discarded those. She placed all that she carefully pruned into piles on an unfolded cloth she set down. Hans turned his head to watch. The odd precision she was working with, coupled with the certainty she showed caught his attention and distracted him at least enough to hold his gaze for a moment. It did not last long. His eyes shut tightly.
“Aaagh!” He winced as another wave of pain was sent through his heart.
“Hng…” He panted heavily, a cold sweat coming after each burst of chest pain.
“It hurts… Please stop it.” He begged through clenched teeth.
“You were interested in what I was doing a moment ago.” She observed as she continued to work steadily. There was no reaction in her steady hands to his sudden shouts and cries from Hans, as if she was weathered against such things. Whatever she was, it felt somewhat different from simply being cold and uncaring;. her calm words caught his attention, pulling it away from at least some of the pain, like a child distracted from a shot by being told where to look. It still hurt, but he was panting and trying his best not to scream, because even that hurt him. Haron spoke like anyone that was listening was an audience, he noticed early on in his capture.
“People think that all you have to do is throw certain plants into a pot and mix them for Alchemy. The truth is, there are hundreds of different herbal ingredients alone and with those, different qualities and different processing methods because not all parts of a plant are the same. There are books written on individual plants, let alone species. Within all those small distinctions we then have the issue of measurements; a set of similar ingredients can create a hundred different concoctions when added in differing amounts. Finally, not all mixtures require heat, but those that do require precise temperatures for exact amounts of time. You can not simply boil something and expect it to have the effect you want.” She paused to think
“Oh, but I forgot… From the start, all these details need to be utilised in the right order. Because some products react together, but the effect of another in a certain state will change or neutralise the desired reaction and create a different concoction. So, the product must first be created-” She finished grinding two of the measured ingredients together. Then slowly she added the others.
“-with precise care. This all sounds complicated and obtuse, but it’s just like cooking, really. It’s something anyone can do. I do not happen to be a witch, but all witches tend to be chefs or bakers. It requires a similar amount of precision and an eye for detail. I respect bakers a lot in particular.” She added water, mixed it all together with a wooden spoon and brought it close to him.
“Here.”
“Is- Is it poison?” Hans asked.
“Yes!” She responded with an excited brightness to the question. He whimpered and recoiled, but then wondered if it would not be better just to drink it.
“Dammit Haron!” Rayod scolded. He had been watching over Hans the whole day. By Han’s guess, both men seemed to care that he was feeling pain, and it made him uncomfortable. Only the one called Rayod seemed to volunteer any aid.
“It is a poison, technically. I was happy that he guessed correctly.” She glanced back at Rayod and pouted a little before clarifying to Hans.
“Poison. For the mind and the senses. A poison is simply a concoction that eases the function of certain parts of the body. As I said, any small alteration to the process will change the outcome. It’s the same with Fate, really.” She smiled proudly at that.
“To cut a long explanation short, this will let you fall into a deep sleep so that you do not feel the pain.”
“Fine- Fine, just give it to me. Even if it kills me it’s better than this.” He closed his eyes and let his mouth fall open. His hands were shaking too much to hold a bowl. Haron lifted it to his lips and let him sip it. Once he had drunk half she pulled it away.
“If you are still hurting, feel free to ask for more, but you should start to feel less pain. This is about how much you should need based on your build. Then, slowly you will feel sleepy.” She smiled and took his shaking hand gently.
“Squeeze my hand if you remain awake, Hans. I will try to drop more into your mouth until you are properly and safely unconscious.”
He felt relief slowly spread from his head, down his neck and spine, then out to his limbs. Most importantly in his veins and slowing heart. He could think clearly, but he could not move. He felt like a log but just as she asked he squeezed her cold, slender hand to tell her he was awake.
`Cold.` He thought.
`Ice cold. Rough. Grit?` He felt her skin and did in fact feel grit and roughness on them.
`These ingredients weren’t bought from the market…` While his eyes were still able to remain open he looked at her.
“Why do you-” He breathed in, then out, feeling tired and conscious of that once simple act.
“Why do you care?”
She looked at him sympathetically. “Believe it or not, Hans, we do not want to see you suffer. This was not expected. The change was thought to occur the moment you drank the reagents mixed with my blood.” She cocked her head to one side.
“Or... Did you think we poured piss and shit over ourselves for fun?”
The sudden burst of crudeness from her made him laugh. It was jarring to hear the proper-sounding woman swear.
“Maybe you did?” He wondered out loud, feeling a little braver while drugged. Rayod and Varsham both laughed at that comment.
Hans clutched his chest over the spot where the ring was and closed his eyes, but even shutting them tight did not stop tears from forming and dripping down his cheek.
“I wanna go home.” He opened his eyes and looked at her with a sad and fearful gaze.
“Haron, I wanna go home, please.” He was sniffling, on the verge of sobbing.
Haron frowned. Rather than look away she confronted his pain and fear directly by meeting his watery gaze.
“I know.” She tried to think of something to say.
“I met Dame Ayla again today.”
Hans was immediately distracted. “Dame?”
“Since it is the middle of the day I went out without robes and a mask, as those would be more suspicious. However, I am a naturally suspicious woman, so Dame Ayla stopped me on my way back from the woods.” She continued holding his hand, but also lifted her other to stroke his hair snow-white hair affectionately, as a mother would.
“So sleep and maybe the next time you wake up you will see her face instead of mine. Wouldn't that be nice?” He closed his eyes and drifted off. The poison had finally kicked in fully and put him to sleep.
“Haron... You ran into that girl again?” Rayod inquired.
“Don't you think that could be important!?” Varsham stated in frustration.
“This child needed some medicine. It was more important.”
“Fine...” He relented.
“But, what are the chances she can use where she saw you to track us?”
“Oh... Quite good I would say. In the most fortunate circumstances for them I was seen on the edge of town which places our little hideout within a small search radius. That is if she deduces that much, and guesses that we chose a vacant building. If she is good, we have about twenty minutes. If she is not, we will have moved him and everyone else within the hour. Even if she comes, our Mercenary Captain is quite strong.” Haron smiled brightly at the two men.
“W-wait, twenty minutes from now or-” The man looked startled.
“From when I entered.”
“Dammit Haron, tell us that sooner!” Rayod shouted hoarsely. They both rushed out to alert the mercenaries.
She shook her head, continuing to sooth Hans in his sleep. “Kids. Always in such a rush. I already told them. Hm...” she touched her cheek curiously.
“I will feed you a bit more than I should so that you can sleep through anything that happens.” Haron lifted the bowl and let more of the mixture seep slowly into his mouth and down his throat, careful to not let him choke.
Earlier in the day Ayla, Miller and Ryan were reaching the end of their patrol. It was around when they would typically be heading to the Wintergreen to drink and unwind. Instead, Ayla took them aside into a little clearing off the main road.
“We can spar, Miller. I want to see a bit of what you can do.” Ayla placed her hand on the pommel of her sheathed sword. She planted her feet an appropriate distance apart with one ahead of the other pointing towards Miller.
“Come at me as aggressively as you want, you wont hit me.”
“Seriously? Aren't you being a bit..” Miller trailed off. He knew Ayla was stronger based on her credentials, but he doubted the gap was as wide as she suggested.
“Cocky?” Samson finished what Miller wished to say. He was seated along the sidelines with the soldiers watching curiously behind him.
Ayla glanced over. “You all can feel free to leave us. The Patrol ended and we'll meet you at the Wintergreen in a little bit.”
“I kinda want to see.” Samson admitted.
“Same.” Hadley watched intently without blinking.
“It's not often we get to see sparring between Knights.”
“Fine.” Ayla made sure her hair was tied tight and tucked into her collar. Everything was strapped neatly as preparation. A ritual before she fought someone on even terms.
“Okay, are you ready, Ayla?” Miller asked.
“I'm ready. Start whenever.” She waited. As soon as Miller pulled his battle-sword from his back, Ayla drew her thin long-sword. Miller had acquired the weapon in the morning. Despite her intent to request the weapon, he told her not to bother and simply obtained one on his own somehow. It was a good sword, not common. Not something that could be simply bought. It held a length that was quite shy of a spear with a blade of consistent one-third foot width that tapered to a rounded-triangle tip. About a foot up from the hammer-like guard there was a narrowing grip bound tightly with leather that could be used for fine movements or half-swording. The grip itself was long which projected an incredible amount of leverage when used with hands spread out over the full length from pommel to guard. The sword was in every way perfect for what it was designed to do and Ayla approved immensely. She liked the look of that sword a lot to the point that it almost made her blush.
`I want to hold it… But that would probably be rude to ask.`She turned her attention past the craftsmanship to the fight itself.
`It’s a bad match, objectively. I just need to never take a direct hit when I parry and the advantage of it is effectively neutralised. Miller's strength is predictable so there's no actual way for me to lose to him.` She exhaled steadily, then inhaled.
“By the way, when you attack I'm going to attack back. I'll stop short of hitting you but keep in mind each time it happens what the result would've been if we were fighting for real.”
“Got it, got it. Let's go!” Miller shouted excitedly. He began with his hands spread out wide over the entirety of his long handle. Ayla nodded approvingly, then much to her surprise Miller began to analyse things:
`I'll use my reach to start.` He decided, inching forward just enough that the upper quarter of his sword could contact her, but hers could never reach him at maximum length with her arm extended. She did not move except to turn her body sideways and extend her sword forward with her arm bent shallowly.
`This isn’t what she said her technique was… This is just a basic duelling technique. Is she playing with me?` Miller lifted his sword above his head and caught movement in that instant. Her body lowered and her back foot pushed off towards him. Her front foot slid further as she made her body low and long. Her sword made a direct line from her planted back foot. Her reach was extended enough for the tip of her sword to reach him, and then some. She extended her arm quicker than he could react and the tip of her sword found his stomach but did not pierce him as it could have. She held back.
`Dead?` He grunted, bringing his sword back down to the starting position. He did not plan to strike her, since a dead man wouldn’t be able to, but she had already withdrawn anyway even if he had a mind to.
“Dammit.” Miller cursed, squaring up again.
“I'm faster than you, but you're stronger than me.” Ayla hinted.
“Come one! I know that much.” He uttered in frustration. They were equal lengths apart again, but that was not accurate, he understood that after her last attack. He quickly adjusted his way of thinking. Curiously, his way of learning and changing on the fly seemed to put an excited look on her usually blank face. It was intriguing, but not something he wanted to focus on at the time. He was focused entirely on doing his best to beat her.
`I thought that her reach was the range of her sword and her arm, but it's actually longer. This is a duelling stance. It’s not something Knights use out here, because there isn’t much single-combat. Her reach is functionally double what it seems to be; triple if I take her speed into account. Big moves have to come after a staggering move. Take her off her centre of balance with lighter attacks to reduce her options for movement.` He breathed, extending his grip up onto the narrow, bound leather portion of his blade.
Ayla’s silver eyes ignited with approval. “Good! How do you know so much about this way of fighting already?”
“Ryan’s Dad used this style, and this sword.” Her eyes flitted to Samson as he said that. Miller lowered the handle to around the height of his hip and held the handle just in front with the tip pointed towards her like a spear. He inched into range, it was still longer than hers, but she would still need to extend her body to actually hit him, and his range of movement with his sword was more precise with the way he was wielding it.
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`I can move my sword in any direction in front of me and around me. I can still jab farther by default. As long as she's in front of me I can-` Ayla lunged forward, going for a jab. Miller quickly twisted his wrists and parried down by striking her sword away, then used the position his wrists were already in from parrying to swipe his sword up towards her body at an angle..
`It'll catch her under her arm, I should slow it down so she doesn't get-` As he was thinking that Ayla had already bent her upper body out of the way and was already attacking again. His eyes widened.
`Shit, this is it!` Miller was treated to a peak at her actual form. As she bent out of the way with her sword drawn back she used the positioning the dodge put her in to jab her sword towards his neck.
`But it shouldn’t-` He looked down and noticed that she had stepped well into his guard without him even noticing. It was quite something. There was basically no power behind what she was doing, unlike with the duelling stance. Her elbow was a lever that put her sword wherever it needed to be to hit him. Her arm and sword together moved like a serpent. Unpredictable.
`Oh.` The tip of her sword slid well past his neck, but it was an intentional miss.
“Dead again, huh?”
“And I was worried about you getting hurt.” Miller chuckled, scratching his head.
“Go again?” He asked.
“As much as you like.” Ayla nodded. She was serious. He wished he could call it a date with how much time she seemed willing to give him.
`If this doesn't work then I'll move into her space to surprise her, and bowl through her. She uses the advantage of moving around her opponent. I’ll move her around to where I want her to be with my mass, instead.` Miller charged through suddenly. She looked surprised for a brief moment, exactly what he wanted, but her eyes darted around rapidly, dancing over each integral lever to his attack. As he tried to shoulder check her while restricting her sword with his own, she attacked the sword itself.
`I thought she’d have to move around it, so I positioned the blade further away from my body to make it harder. In an instance she decided that she could hit it instead?` Miller grinned.
`Too bad I’m-` His hands rung as his sword was batted aside from the seemingly weak strike. It was a one-handed strike where her sword was simply wound back behind her, over her left arm. The effect was like getting his blade hit with a hammer.
`-strong!` Ayla completed her swing, then used the position her sword was in on the other side of her form to perform another jab towards his neck.
`Dead, but I don’t care! Sorry, Ayla.` He wheeled his sword around but he began swinging from too shallow of a position, so she stayed ahead of it just by moving and was already behind him before he could react. She pinched the back of his neck. Miller shuddered.
`Dead again. Still don’t care!' He began to sweat. He felt her behind him last so he did not hesitate and continued his formerly shallow swing around in a horizontal arc towards her until it was even greater than a complete swing. The momentum was too much to dodge or parry. Miller saw it was a narrow miss, however. She looked faintly impressed and not the least bit upset that he was being underhanded. His eyes lit up when he saw what position she was in.
`She actually had to dodge by shifting her weight this time, the centre of her mass isn't over her feet anymore, so it'll be hard to move precisely. She’s staggered. The only choice is to block an unblockable attack, so I win!` The problem remained that his initial attack was dodged, even if she was off balance. An idea popped into his head. A move he saw once before. Miller released the part of the blade he held for precise movement near the guard at the apex of his missed swing. It picked up speed as he swirled it around over his head in one big loop. Then, when he was about to bring it down again he gripped the top of his pommel near the guard for control and used the added leverage to drive it down even harder. He let out a yell from the exertion.
“Gotcha!”
“Zach what the fuck!?” Samson shouted, seeing what he was doing.
`I can’t slow the blade…` Miller regretted it. He could actually hurt her and for what? A stupid bet? A wish he wouldn’t want to cash in if he injured her. He watched in amazement as her body changed direction in air to place her feet under her and before the blade could hit squarely like he desired she planted and struck his sword near the tip with both hands, sending it off course with just enough force to make it miss by an inch. The sword struck the ground and sent dust up around the impact.
“Y-you’re okay!” He dropped his sword right away, waiting for the dust to settle.
Ayla stood up, simply brushing herself off. She beamed proudly at him. “You're very talented, Miller. You have good eyes and you adjust what you are doing on the fly as needed.”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “H-hey, that’s not important! Are you okay?” He looked like a hurt puppy to Ayla, who was staring back with a curious gaze.
“I’m fine. I told you you wouldn’t hit me. You could do whatever you wanted and I wouldn’t be hurt.” She explained.
Miller placed his face in his palm, shaking his head. “I’m still sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”
Ayla glanced over to see that Samson was upset, as well. He had shouted during the spar, though she wasn’t sure why. Ayla shrugged.
“I’m fine. Promise.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Samson remarked.
Miller nodded and shamefully added: “I don’t care how you guys do it in the capital, we aren’t supposed to train like that here. Hurting a fellow Knight is a big deal. I genuinely lost control there.” He said seriously.
Ayla nodded solemnly. “I understand. I accept your apology.” She did not actually have any hard feelings, but she guessed that they would not drop it until she acknowledged it.
“It’s over? I couldn’t even see what happened near the end. ” Mayson complained.
“That was barely a minute in total, right?” Hadley observed in awe.
“Forget Ayla for a second… I had no idea Miller was so fast.”
Samson scratched his stubble near his ear. “Wow.” He would not say it out loud, but as someone that could somewhat follow the exchange he was wondering what someone like Ayla was doing in Castezin as a personal Knight.
“What was that at the end?” Miller asked.
“You moved while off balance. It was crazy.” Ayla was happy to hear that he was more excited and interested rather than frustrated.
“I projected my Aura in a current to move my body back into balance. But-” She held out her sword hand.
“-it's ringing. You still did quite a number on me.”She eyed his expression, drawing her hand back.
“It doesn’t count as ‘catching me.’ I’m pretty sure you know that.” She stated. Miller felt a dip after the triumph.
“Everything I did felt pretty useless. I didn't believe you when you said I couldn't catch you. How does that even work?”
Ayla explained. “If Bone Alignment is strength, and Heart Alignment is an average of stamina, strength and speed-”
“Your alignment is speed.” Miller guessed.
“No.” She corrected, tapping the side of her head.
“It's reaction time. To a lesser degree speed. The Nerve Alignment begins in the brain, so all of those parts are improved and gain access to Energy before anything else.” She waved her hand in front of her.
“When I concentrate, everything around me looks like it's moving in slow motion. I could see all your attacks.”
Miller held his head. “Slow motion? God damn... That’s cheating!” He was half joking.
“If I get stronger will I eventually outpace you?”
“I don’t think so. Bone is a bad match for Nerve. Technically speaking, you should always lose to me and I should typically lose to a Heart Alignment.”
Samson raised his hand. “That’s me. So you’re saying I can beat you?”
Ayla shook her head and offered politely. “Not exactly. I said usually. I trained to-” She stopped herself from continuing.
“To…” Samson lifted a brow at her. After a few seconds of looking into her expression his face filled with recognition.
“Ah… We’ll leave that alone.”
Ayla was surprised by that. “But-”
Samson shrugged. “We’re in a field that requires us to do… Things. I don’t think we’re like that, but I also don’t think you’re wrong for it.” Samson smiled at her warmly.
“Just use it for the right reasons.”
“Y-yeah.” Ayla turned away from Samson. She saw the glowing face of Hadley. He was listening intently to all her explanations from the sidelines.
Miller spoke up. “What are you two talking in circles about? “Ryan, did you know she has Aura?”
Samson shrugged. “Don't most of the graduates from Shanaine have Aura? We're the odd ones for training here instead of the capital. I think most Knights are stronger than us.”
“That makes sense.” Miller looked down.
“We’re not tested to go to war, we’re tested to guard our land from internal threats. Happy to be a Castezinan. It’s so peaceful here.” He remarked with relief, as if nothing bad would ever happen here.
Ayla had encountered the mindset more than once among the two Knights alone. It was a troublesome and difficult thing to overcome.
`No one here thinks that things are going to go wrong. No one would know. All of the events of the coming decade make it seem like Sol himself hates this land.` Ayla looked up in thought, the stars were beginning to show, as well as the moon.
`But I know that’s not true. I was brought back to save it. I have to do something.`
“That's not true.” Ayla claimed in a stern tone. Miller perked up, as did Samson.
“Even if it seems as if things are peaceful now, we should prepare for- for anything.”
Samson looked at her. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“No…” She avoided meeting his gaze.
“It’s just that I…” She tried to think of something, trailing off until she found a believable enough lie.
“I want this place to be safe. I’m paranoid, but I don’t think I’m wrong for wanting us to be prepared.
She addressed them. “Miller, you're about as strong as ten regular soldiers combined and you have the mental capacity and situational awareness to fight at a higher level than you are at right now. So long as the opponent isn't like me.” She clarified before turning to the other Knight.
“Samson, you are intelligent. Even if you didn't say it, you knew I had Aura already and you tend to know a lot more than you let on. A lot more… Even though you hit your limit, if you become an Aura-Knight that intelligence will convert to a sort of 'strength' in combat with almost no limit. Even if nothing happens, wouldn’t it be better to train that to just pass the time away?”
Samson smirked. “I agree with the overall point. Already started sending out messages. My wife just wants me to make sure it isn't a woman.”
“Not a... Woman?” Ayla looked at him strangely. It was a highly limiting factor.
Miller grinned. “His wife doesn't even know his squad-mate is a woman. She'd get super jealous.”
Samson hid his face in his hands bashfully. “That’s not true, my wife is very intelligent and reasonable.” He stated.
“It’s just that… if I bring a mage over to teach me, they'll have to live in the estate. I'll have to handle living expenses and my wife wouldn't like it if it was a woman because she loves me too much to see me around other ladies.” He stared at Miller pointedly.
“That's different from jealousy.”
“Sounds like jealousy...” Ayla stated flatly. Miller bent over and cackled, pointing his approval.
“That's not true!” Samson argued with playful anger.
“Hey Ryan, have you considered that if it’s a male mage, you’ll have an older guy other than me around Elly and Gretta?” Miller asked.
The man made a face like he only just considered it. He had a look in his eye that made it seem like wheels were turning behind them.
“We’ll need to figure something out. Maybe spring for a hotel room.”
Miller placed his sword in the holster at his back. “Then we should have dinner one night soon and invite Ayla.”
Samson dragged his hand from his eyes down over his mouth. “That.” He looked at Ayla for a moment in deep thought as she stared back at him cluelessly, but with just enough recognition for her cheeks to flush adorably. He then adopted a relaxed smile.
“Yeah. We can do that. I'm sure Gretta will be fine having her around.” Samson got the sense that his wife would understand immediately that Ayla is not available as a partner.
Ayla's lips parted as a small gasp escaped. “Really? You want to invite me for dinner one night with… Oh, you have a daughter?” Her face became bright to the point of glowing.
Miller got close and pointed to himself. “I'll be there, too. Ryan has a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter and a beautiful father in law.” He said giddily.
“Please stop.” Samson grumbled at the mention of his father in law.
“What about us?” Mayson, Grayson, Hadley, Tallow and Mark each made themselves look as much like a sad, discarded animal as they could..
“What about you all? I'm not gonna feel sympathy for a bunch of brats that still have their residences listed as their mother's and father's. Go eat a home cooked meal with your own families!” Samson rebuked.
“So cruel... This is the true personality of a landowner. Looking down on us common folk.” Hadley moaned theatrically.
“But I'm also a common folk.” Ayla commented.
“That's right!” Tallow shouted.
“Dame Ayla is one of us! I'll bring you home to my-”
“You what?” Miller's head turned on a swivel to Tallow. He stared at him with wide, wild eyes.
“M-maybe not.” Tallow backed off.
Ayla felt an involuntary laugh coming on again. She covered her mouth and chuckled. It was happening a lot these days.
`I don't really get what's going on, but it's funny.`