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Chapter 42

††† Siegfried †††

Siegfried decided to sweat the rest of the alcohol with training. The factions headquarters sported an enclosed area dedicated to that purpose on the far side of the spire, away from the sleeping quarters. It had a very different feel to the barrack’s training yard back home as there was no iron to use as weight. Instead, there were different-sized boulders, logs and ropes. Sturdy wooden beams crossed the room's breadth, and Sieg used them for simple pull-ups first.

His bodyweight was substantial, but he quickly realised that it would take a very long time to break a sweat. Binding two smaller boulders with a rope that he hung around his neck made the exercise more challenging.

Trying knee bends with a heavy log on his shoulders felt even more ridiculous. Sieg had to add more and more boulders, hanging them over both ends of the log to get a satisfying feel on the repetitions. Before he had changed, the timber alone would have brought him to his knees.

Marvelling at the extend of his strength, he lost himself in the simple rhythm. Thoughts stilled, and emotions blurred into a dull state of contentment for a while.

Siegfried fell into his usual routine, moving from weight training to sword forms and ultimately fighting imaginary foes to hone his craft. He had his enemy clear in mind, parrying and evading strikes before he transitioned into a counter.

The unbidden image of a feline woman occupied his mind’s eye. A silent scream on her lips as his sword severed her arm.

“Damn you!” he yelled, frustrated while trying to dispel the vision. His breath came heavy as the shirt clung to his sweating torso. The creaking of the door let him whirl around.

“Siegfried, what happened?” Sally called out, calming down when she saw that he was alone and uninjured.

“It’s nothing, Sally,” Sieg huffed. “Just having a bad day is all.”

The renegade enforcer hesitated for a spell before approaching slowly. “Nothing can make us forget the faces of those we have slain. And nothing should,” she added with conviction.

“Huh, you would know,” he jabbed, angry that she had read him so easily. A deep sigh left his throat as he forced himself to calm. “Sorry Sally, that was really uncalled for,” Sieg admitted. Contrary to his expectations, she didn’t even seem upset. Instead, her expression softened.

“It won't get better if you don’t get clean with yourself.”

“Get clean with what?” Sieg snorted. “The fact that I’ve purposely maimed several dozen people, leaving them to die a slow, agonising death?”

Sally didn’t rise to the bait, keeping her naturally calm demeanour. “That’s one way to see it.” She walked to a broad bench near the wall and patted the space next to her.

Suddenly the situation seemed awfully familiar to Siegfried. The placating air of experience that Sally exuded felt similar to Bolverk, and Sieg had to remind himself that she was at least a decade older than him. He sat down next to her and leaned forward, propping his forearms on his knees.

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“I’ve been born in the first district and have been trained to join the enforcers since I was four,” Sally recounted. “At the age of fourteen, my master arranged a test to verify my suitability and loyalty to the enforcers. I was to execute a changeling,” she said quietly. “I’ve been taught that changelings are the enemy of humanity, and I believed it as a child. I also knew that enforcers who defied a direct command from their superiors would often be put to death or worse. Still, the man that knelt before me was bound and helpless— unable to defend himself. On that day, I chose my life over that of an innocent person.”

Siegfried found his heart in turmoil. When he pictured the scene in his mind, he could not fault a young girl for saving herself instead of a stranger. His disgust and hatred for the Red Brigade only rose. It was hard to imagine how this would affect the mind of a child.

“I could hardly eat or sleep for weeks afterwards. I was close to breaking down completely and permanently, thinking of how I murdered a man in cold blood— just for the sake of killing him,” Sally admitted. Her voice never wavered as she had made her peace with this part of her past. “A priest of Akali became aware of my plight— one of the few better women in the Brigade. She told me that this was the reasoning of my master, not mine. I had killed that man to survive, not to kill him. That didn’t make it easy for me, but it was enough to pull me from the brink.”

“And it was the truth,” Sieg encouraged the statement. “They are even viler than I thought. Holding a blade to a young girls throat, forcing her to kill a man at that age,” he spat with disdain.

“The same can be applied the other way, Siegfried. You might have acted in anger, but what you did was carrying out justice.”

Sieg snorted at the phrasing. “I never intended to do justice. Neither here nor in Nemeah. I always just acted on my feeling, my anger.”

“And still, the people of Nemeah called you Siegfried ‘The Just’ because that’s where your decisions often led to, am I not right?” Sally countered.

Sieg contemplated her view in silence. And although he felt that it shouldn’t ease his mind, he gradually straightened his back— as if a heavy burden was slowly lifted from his shoulders. Sally was right. He would not forget those he had slain, but neither would he forget those who had suffered under them. Fury surged from his core at the image of the limbless woman, and he tempered the rage into cold strength once more.

Picking up his Sword, Siegfried started sparring invisible opponents again. Foe after foe fell to precise strikes in his mind as he wielded the weapon with ruthless efficiency. He fell into a trance as his body moved faster and faster. The air screamed where his blade cut, and the floor trembled when he lunged forward backed up with a jump.

Still, he did not miss the creaking of the door and called out for Sally before she could leave. “Sally… thank you,” he bowed his head to her.

“Anytime, Siegfried,” she replied with a smile and left the training area.

††† Haylee †††

When Haylee returned to the fortress, she snuck quietly into the washroom. She didn’t want to startle anyone, drenched in blood as she was, even though none of it was hers.

Grandma Bah confided in her that there should still be several patrols watching the streets as not everyone was stationed in the fortress the day before. She used scouting as an excuse to go after them herself before they came back to their headquarters. Siegfried could use a few days without violence, and the shadowy cave systems made assassination an easy task for her.

On her way out, Haylee stumbled into Sally. The former enforcer was searching her at Ryden’s request and brought her into the war room at the highest level of the fortress. When they entered, Ryden, Rak and Grandma Bah were already seated at a long table.

“Haylee, glad you’re back on time,” Ryden exclaimed. “I wanted to discuss our next steps now that everything has settled down a bit.”

Haylee took a seat, frowning slightly. “Then why is Siegfried not here?”

“Because we also need to talk about him,” Ryden sighed. “We all know that he is in a bad spot, and whatever we plan to do, we can’t have any of us break down mentally, or we will fail. We need to help him,” the healer said, looking at each of them for consent. Satisfied with the silent commitment, he continued. “I want us to share what we know and give us maybe a week of downtime. Siegfried needs a few days of peace, friendship and love,” he looked at Haylee at the last word.

Haylee was conflicted. It wasn’t her story to tell, but she could at least give them a rough idea of what Siegfried went through as a child.