Otto

Otto huddled back further into the undergrowth and tried to escape the driving rain. Ordinarily, this type of weather wouldn’t have bothered him, but in his present condition, he feared that even the mildest cold might kill him.

He didn’t really feel any kind of loss from being cut off from the power of the Father; if anything, he felt free. It was a relief to sever a connection that he hadn’t really wanted in the first place. The worst thing was that he ached. Champions grew physically strong and had remarkable endurance, and all of that was stripped away. Even the hike up to the Father's temple high up in the hills overlooking Tajar almost killed him. Not that he would ever mention any of this to Issie.

Over his head towered the shillohette of the fortress-like temple of the Father, and the sound of raised voices at the main gate told them that the followers of the Prior had arrived to cause a distraction.

"She should be here any moment now," Edna murmured, leaning against a small wooden door in the outer wall.

The old woman wore an oiled raincoat and pushed a finishing stone up the length of a lethal-looking dagger. On her back, she carried an absurdly long sword, and Otto had been astounded that her skinny arms could even lift it.

Edna stepped back as the bold slid out of the door, and a bemused-looking guard appeared.

"Welcome to the—" he began, before folding up neatly on the floor.

Issie stepped out, stowing a sturdy-looking cudgel inside her brown priory robes. "Welcome to the temple of the Father; anyone with a weapon is welcome."

"I told you, I don’t need a sword," Otto growled.

"And I told you to stay out here. You’re as weak as a wet kitten. You’ll just slow us down."

"Nobody put you in charge; you don’t know what they’re capable of; I do," Otto retorted.

"I'll see if you feel so well informed when they cut your head off."

"If you two don’t stop bickering, I’ll lay you over my knee and give you what for. All of us are going in there together, it’s going to be knife-work and it’s going to be done nice and quiet, any questions?" Edna said.

Issie cast a sullen glance around them at the heavily armed mercenaries that seemed to follow Enda like a mobile phalanx. "You’re the boss."

"That I am dear. Let’s go."

Once inside, Edna’s adventurers headed into the temple to open the main gates and create enough of a distraction to let Otto and Issie complete their part of Konrad’s plan.

"Now I don’t get involved in the fighting, but I’ll be watching the door for when you come back," Edna said, sitting down and pulling out some knitting.

The sound of clacking needles faded as Otto and Issie crept through the temple.

"Four and Five will be up in the keep," Otto whispered.

"I still can’t believe those are the best names you could come up with," Issie said.

"It’s an ancient ranking system for champions."

"So at one point you were number two?"

"Yes, before I was promoted, they named a new number two."

"You know what they say about number twos, you get rid of one, and another one comes along straight away. What? That’s funny!"

"Shh."

Ahead of them, two black-clad figures passed the end of the corridor, and Otto faded into the shadows. He reached for his sword, silently cursing when he remembered he was unarmed.

"They’re heading for the parapet of the keep to watch the main gate," Otto whispered.

"Then we’ll catch them by surprise. Let’s take one each; the first to kill a champion wins," Issie replied.

"No, they have to be alive, Konrad was very specific."

"But you don’t know why they have to be alive, do you? We both know Konrad's a big softy; he probably knows we’re going to kill them but he didn’t want to say it."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Issie moved to walk past Otto, but he stepped in front of her. "Konrad said no killing; we have to trust him."

"When you’re dead, I’ll make a judgment call; how about that?" Issie said sweetly and neatly sidestepped him.

Rain hammered against the parapet, the droplets smashing onto the dark cloaks of the Fathers' remaining champions. Both of them whirled around as Otto and Issie stepped out.

"Who’re you?" Three shouted, drawing his sword.

Otto pulled back his hood. "You don’t remember me?"

The champion with the hooked hand hesitated before a cruel sneer creased his face. "Is it really you? A diseased hand is best cut off. I guess that makes me First champion now, doesn’t it?"

"I’m sensing a lot of small-man energy around here. I suppose it’s too much to expect that your colleague is a woman?" Issie asked.

Both of the Father's champions lowered their hoods to reveal the stern face of the Father.

"I suppose that would look a little odd, wouldn’t it?" Issie laughed.

Two long, black swords were drawn, and the champions spread out, surrounding Otto and Issie.

"Why don’t you both put those down and we can talk about this? We’re all champions or ex-champions here. Have you heard the good work the Prior is doing?"

Her voice poured like golden honey, but there was a snake hidden in the sweetness and it slithered around the necks of the Father's champions. It was the first time Otto had seen Issie’s power in action, and he was stunned to hear a clang as one of the swords hit the flagstones. The champion who faced Otto let the point of his own sword drop slightly, confusion riddled on his face, and Otto sensed that it was all the advantage he was going to get.

Otto attacked and tried to bury the fear as his body responded more slowly than he had ever felt. His reactions were sluggish, and his muscles protested as the champion came to his senses enough to block his blow. The counterattack nearly cut Otto in half, and he took a diving roll to one side.

"You’re a traitor!" the champion yelled, and the flagstones around Otto glowed red before exploding in a shower of stone. One of the larger fragments hit Otto on the knee, and he felt a crunch as smaller pieces battered his face, leaving dozens of small cuts.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Issie approach the dazed champion, whispering to him as if he were a skittish horse, a long length of rope in one hand and her heavy cudgel in the other.

The distraction cost Otto dearly, and he felt the slight disturbance in the wind before a shadow of fear fell over him. His vision darkened, and the form of the champion rippled and mutated until it was Konrad who stood in front of him.

"I can’t let you go back to Fallow Vale, Otto; you’re too dangerous," Konrad bellowed, the tip of his sword catching Otto on the cheek.

Otto staggered back, blood flowing down his face and neck, raising a hand to ward off his brother. "Konrad, I’m not that person any more; I only did it for you, to protect you!"

Konrad struck again, and Otto moved instinctively, ducking inside his guard and twisting the sword out of his brother's hand. He threw the blade off of the parapet as a bolt of lightning sundered the sky, and Konrad struck him with a hard blow to the temple.

"You enjoyed the things you did, the fear you wielded like a weapon, the praise from the Fist as you grew more powerful; you miss the power already, admit it." Konrad punctured the words with heavy blows, beating Otto down onto one knee.

Otto thought he had been broken already when he was cut off. He thought that the only thing left to take from him was his life, but faced with Konrad's fury, something else deep down snapped inside of him, and he sobbed, the words tumbling out. "I enjoyed it. I miss the power. I’m sorry."

The shadow of fear dissipated in the wind, and Otto saw the champion of the Father towering over him, his hooked hand raised high. The flash of steel brought his focus back, and he slipped to the side in a whirl of his cloak, hearing the fabric shred apart behind him. The fear was gone, replaced with a cold certainty. He had enjoyed the power, but that was before, and this would be his last fight.

Otto pressed the champion hard with a flurry of blows. He dodged and feinted, and when the champion drew a long dagger, Otto read the movement with ease and ducked past his guard, smashing the heel of his hand into his enemy’s nose and feeling it snap. He twisted lightly and swept the champion's feet from under him, and when his opponent struggled up, he cracked him in the temple with his fist.

Issie sat on the parapet, clapping her hands slowly in mocking applause with a disdainful curl to her lip. The champion of the Father she had faced lay unconscious at her feet, bound and gagged. "Congratulations on your breakthrough, but unless you have any more soul-searching to do, we really should get out of here."

"I might need a moment," Otto wheezed.

Issie approached and surveyed the unconscious champion. "You looked like you had a classic fear vision. See anything interesting?"

"I saw a vision of you being kind and thoughtful; it was terrifying."

They dragged their captives back to the small gate and found Edna sitting on the same stool where they had left her, except now there were a dozen bodies around her—hard killers of the temple guard who all wore the same death mask of disbelief mixed with terror.

"Couple of em tried to sneak out the back; where're you taking these two?" Edna asked.

"Don’t look at me; Konrad just told me to get them," Issie said.

"I’ve got no idea either," Otto admitted.

"Lucky I got here in time then," Alice said, ducking through the small wooden door.

Alice led them to a sturdy wagon driven by a cheerful-looking man with a green apron filled with gardening tools.

"This is Walter; we’ll be taking these two with us. Konrad says that you are welcome to join, but—"

"You can’t tell us what you are doing?" Otto finished her sentence.

"All I can say is that we're going to lock them up nice and tight."

As the unconscious champions were being loaded into the back of the wagon, Otto said his farewells to Issie. The First Priest of the Prior would be heading back down to the plains to Tajar to stabilize the situation in the burning city.

"I wanted to tell you, it does get better, you know," she said.

Otto tried to search for any hint of sarcasm or deception in her voice, but to his surprise, he saw nothing but sincerity. "How did you keep going?"

"You have to find a place to belong. You all probably think that I joined up with the Priory to cause trouble, and that’s partly true. But the other part is that its a place where I belong; it’s a family."

The only place he could feel like that was Fallow Vale, but after what he had done, how could he go home?

"You gave everything you had to save other people; if you want to beat this thing, you’re going to have to let them save you for a change," Issie said.