One single candle,

Lights up the lifeless road.

Infinite darkness.

Absolute silence.

A smell fills up the air with melancholy.

Gone.

Emptiness is law.

The ground is cold.

The feeling is filling me up with joy.

Because this sensation,

Is the last proof I exist.

I am alone.

Since long forgotten.

Why do I keep moving my frozen feet?

I am alone.

A day before winter, Unknown Bard.

          Nay was walking. For the third time since she had woken up, she touched her lips. Only the stars enlightened her gesture. She was travelling by night today. It was the end of summer; it was raining most of the time. But the further she went south, the clearer the skies. As walking under the punishing rays of the sun was foolish, she had taken refuge under the shadows of the trees or the obscurity of large crevices during those last few days.

She knew how to survive alone in the middle of the wilderness. She had been taught how to survive, whatever the situation. After all, a Virnyl guard could be deployed anywhere in the Empire, and she had trained to become one.

Knowledge and experience were not the same thing though.

Nay would not have batted an eyelid at the idea of facing a blizzard, the sand desert was another story altogether.

She thought about Gite, would she ever see the city again?

Once again, her mind went to Trinne. Her friend had given her food, maps, and most of Nay’s meagre possessions, all stashed in a beautiful leather backpack. She had not thanked her friend for this gift, and she felt bad about it. They had been too busy deciding on a meeting spot in Leïn.

Behind the third church of Ja, on the Imperatrix square, in three months, they had decided.

Nay remembered that moment, and their farewells.

She nibbled on her lower lip. She felt even guiltier now.

She thought about her father. Marke would say to stop moping and grieving. He would tell her to focus on her future and her survival.

She could hear the barked order in her head.

‘Who said you could stop, runt?’

She picked up her pace.

The horror of the blue eyes was pursuing her. She stopped herself from shivering.

She remembered it now. Of this Angel with ebony scales, shimmering of ruby. Of the arachnid claws, impossibly sharp. Of the face, omen of death.

The childish voice.

The abomination culminating with the colour blue.

She wasn’t panicking about the vision of horror anymore.

Fear was deep, anchored in her flesh, but her body was in Nay’s control. Her mind was sharp and clear.

Her father had told her.

“It is not your demon.”

The harsh, powerful voice repeated it to her, again and again.

To her ears, the words were soft and gentle.

She was not running away.

She was leaving to train.

Days passed by slowly, in constant worry.

Nay was certain she was a wanted individual. Even Trinne would not manage to turn the situation to her advantage.

The Commandare asking about a young apprentice, supposedly dangerous and unruly. An altercation between him and the apprentice’s father. Two dead, a witness on the run.

Maybe they would even fault her for the deaths.

It was a bit more than two weeks since she left. Weeks of roaming the southern roads. She could count herself lucky for a night like this one, under the starry night.

At first, when she put up camp, she also installed rudimentary alarms: wires with hooked up bells, close to the ground. She did so because it was what she had been taught to do, but since camping during the day, the unending cacophony of the Frigelles, large violet insects, masked the noise of the bells.

Nay had stopped putting the traps up after the seventh day.

Truthfully, she doubted they had been useful to begin with; As the Commandare was now dead, no one could take her by surprise anymore.

Since that evening in the Legio school, her ability with the Rreico had become chaotic, and she did not trust it completely anymore.

It felt like she could hear the whole universe.

Focusing, she could count precisely how many Frigelles were around, or, more useful, find all the game in a radius of a hundred fifty feet around her.

But she could not foresee movements with it anymore.

The overload of information was such that she was unable to see what the living beings around her were going to do.

At first, she thought it was because she was hunting animals lacking intelligence, but she now knew that was not the case. The previous night, she had met travelling merchants, and it had shown her the truth.

She had felt their anguish, then their relief, when they spotted her, then understood she really was a lonely woman on the road and not the premise of an ambush.

But she had no clue what they were going to do.

She had even been taken by surprise when they proposed a job as a courtesan in Gite to her.

She did not even know if there was a Gite anymore.

She hoped that Marke’s master was still alive.

If not, the Legio tradition would die with her.

After another hour on the road, Nay took a short break to drink. As she checked her provisions, she was met with a new fact to face: she would have to stop in town. She started walking again.

She needed water the most. She could handle the food, but it was getting increasingly hotter each day, even during the night, and she needed to drink a lot. Moreover, rivers were getting scarce. The erosion ridden landscape spoke leagues about the desert to come, two hundred miles down south. The map was easy to read, but the distance was approximative.

There was also a second reason. Makaka, the city where her father came from, was not far into the Bhani desert, almost on its northern frontier to be exact.

She only needed to walk thirty miles through the desert dunes to arrive to her destination.

But Nay had no trust in this “only” part. Without a guide, knowledge or necessary equipment, risks were too high. She was not planning to end up a pile of bones gnawed by wind and scropines.

So, she had to stop. At a tavern first to get water, then at an equipment shop or tailor to buy what she needed to survive the Bhani desert.

It would be dangerous.

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She did not think her pursuers would be on the look out so far down south, if she was being hunted by the law, it would not be the place where they should be looking first.

Unfortunately, it would be the second. She did not doubt for one moment that the Virnyl guards knew about Marke’s origins, and so, after the road leading to Leïn, all the cities between Gite and Makaka would most definitely be monitored.

She was trying to convince herself she was worrying for nothing.

The Angel had probably reached the city she had grown in anyway, and maybe it was futile hope to believe there was still someone there to look for her.

Nay felt a stab in her heart as she thought about what she left behind. If what her father had said was true, most of the people she knew had fled, if there had been a massacre in the coastal city, at least they should be sound and safe. Ra’fa and Lisana should be on the road to Leïn, maybe even there already. Fredere and Veri should have been away as well. Ra’fa would have convinced Manna and her daughter Feryn to do the same. And even if they didn’t go, they should be ok, the Jasminn was in the Lower-City: if the Angel was attracted to Nay’s magic, she would have gone towards the Ducal Plateau, not there.

But on that Plateau lived some of her friends, lived people she knew. She had trained with a lot of Virnyl guards, she had been at the Soi. She did not want all those people’s death on the conscience.

“Nay.” Her father’s voice scolded her in her head. It was not the time for conjectures, she had to focus on the here and now, and on her two missions: Finding help to go through the desert, and water.

But however she tried to focus, her mind wandered nonetheless, showing her increasingly more tragic or gruesome scenarios as time went on.

Nay remembered her training at the Academy. The one about army morale. If Nay were the general with her as the army, morale was what she would worry most about.

Even if the metaphor was quite accurate in this case, the lessons of the Academy teacher were not.

What to do about morale? Nay did not remember the teacher’s name, but she did remember what he said. That giving the troops women, money and luxurious rations was the best way to rekindle the motivation of a fatigued army.

Nay had no women or money, not that it would have helped, and her rations were already good enough. She was the one cooking them.

She decided to try and calm her raging mind with singing, that was Ra’fa’s way.

Not in the mood for a happy song, she began A Day before Winter instead.

Going through the sadness of the song helped her get rid of a bit of her own.

“…since looong …” Her voice stopped. She had sensed something.

Behind the Rreico of a terrified rodent and a hungry Old owl, another, much more powerful rhythm of life was piercing the night with a sensation only the young Legio could perceive.

Fear, envy, anger, but more than anything: violence.

Nay put her backpack on the ground, unsheathed her two blades and started running silently. Her disturbed sixth sense had many disadvantages, but in this case, it was because of it that she could feel that something bad was going on, even though she was unable to determine where exactly it was happening. She was almost certain it was caused by humans: The Rreico was violent and cruel. Animals never expressed those feelings.

She guessed that it came from further down the road, and she knew it to be true as the feeling grew stronger and stronger as she moved forwards.

Nay stopped running. She left the road, walking in the same direction as before, but was now hidden inside the bushes. The sandy ground at her feet was scattered with dry and fragile twigs. If the night had been completely dark, she would not have managed to get closer without making a sound.

But under the current starry night, she could. She was carefully gliding her foot over the ground, barely rising it.

No one would hear her.

A scream broke through the silence.

“I am a boy, I’m a boy!”

To the plea, she only heard snickering in response.

After a few seconds, another scream.

It only took her another few to see who was making them.

It was a woman…or a young boy, it was hard to tell, surrounded by five armed men. Two had torches in hand and were lighting up the scene that was rapidly becoming horrible.

Nay analysed them. All had their backs turned, she could only see the victim’s face. He was being held on the ground; his clothing ripped.

They were bandits, and the one over the boy was native of Carradinoris. His herculean physique betrayed him.

This observation made her hesitate. If there was a Carradin there, it meant that they were not a normal group of bandits. She had heard about the troops of mercenaries, made of deserters and escaped convicts, led by one or two Carradinoris soldiers. The Academy had explained that this was a way for Carradinoris to weaken the regions and facilitate a future invasion. The matron of the Soi, Karmena, of all people, had told her another story altogether.

“Carradins are battle junkies, a bit like our common acquaintance. They do not come here for such a grand scheme as invasion. They just come to pillage, rape and fight.”

Unfortunately, in any case, what this meant was that Nay’s chances of victory had fallen considerably. She could not take the risk of helping the stranger, there was nothing she could do for him.

“Please…” The young boy began. Nay closed her eyes. “…at least don’t burn my book. Do what you want, but the book is important. I beg of you.”

She opened her eyes. Saw the expression on his face.

The bandits sneered.

“Book hm? Fine, but keep shout or I burn. I like shout.”

The bandit who had spoken was the Carradin. He had the accent, the guttural inflections, and the broken Hymerian.

‘His book will be fine, he won’t lose everything.’ She told herself.

It was after this thought that Nay made her decision.

Her excuses felt empty.

She observed the scene again, strengthening her resolve.

She would not question whether or not to act anymore. No, the only thing on her mind now was how she would save him.

Disgust.

She had felt a new Rreico, adding itself to the others. She stopped what she was doing and looked upon the only tree around, at the opposite side of the road.

Metallic reflection in the leaves. A bandit was keeping watch. She internally swore, how did she miss him? Her sensory impairment was worse than she thought.

But for now, that was not important. She had gotten herself a plan.

She crossed the road, well out of sight, and crept towards the tree.

She could hear laughter and sobbing. Soon, she would have no one left to save.

She put her sword back in its sheathe, but not her dagger.

The man standing guard was good. He left no spots unchecked. But all alone, he could not look everywhere at once. Nay had no need of the Rreico to focus on his breathing and know when to hide and when to go forwards.

He was also a Carradin. Even in the night, his sword and clothing betrayed him. He was much leaner and slender than his comrade though.

Being good was not enough. Nay was now standing on the same branch he was, and he had still no idea.

She gently put her blade on his neck.

“Shhhh.” She whispered.

He did not shout. He dropped his bow and raised his hands.

He was scared, but Nay felt something else.

“None of that. Ts ts ts.” She continued. She had no idea what he had wanted to do, but if she had not tempered his zeal, he would have tried it. “What is your boss’ name?” She asked.

“Not my boss.” He answered weakly. His accent was Carradin, but his level of Hymerian was much better than the one of his fellow countrymen.

“Ah, you’re the brains, he’s the muscles?” She deduced.

He gulped. “I don’t know what you’re…”

“Ts ts ts.” She repeated. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, you and your Carradin friend.”

“What do you want?”

“Tell them to stop or I kill you, simple isn’t it?”

He hesitated before speaking out loud.

“Suermir!”

The sneers stopped. In one swift movement, four of the bandits pulled out their weapons and made a circle. The Carradin behemoth put his trousers back, picked his weapon of the ground with one hand, a large double-handed sword, and came closer to the tree. He stopped when he saw his comrade, and more specifically, Nay taking him hostage.

“Oh? Vriicht kann not mehr sehn?”

Nay’s had learned a bit of Carradinoris, it was not great, but in this case, enough. The large man was asking the hostage if he had become blind. She also collected that the man she was holding was named Vriicht.

“Frunt.” He answered.

Which was not very polite.

The giant began laughing.

“Female, this friend. Touch him, I keep you in return.”

The thought made Nay feel nauseous.

“No thanks. Counter-offer: let the kid go with his stuff, and I’ll let your friend keep his head over his shoulders.”

Her opponent responded with a grunt of incomprehension.

“Wa geit niet. Kleintje mahr weg, oder ich sterbt.” It was the hostage that had spoken, translating Nay’s words.

“Geit niet.” The one called Suermir refused. He looked at her straight in the eyes.

If she killed her hostage, she had no means of pressuring them anymore, and if she did nothing, they were all at an impasse.

Nay wordlessly cursed herself. She could have met normal, dumb bandits, but no, she found herself two experienced veterans instead.

She checked what the other four were doing: they seemed content on just waiting for things to unfold. The boy on the ground had tears in his eyes and was trying to put his clothes back on. The garbs he wore were quite peculiar, but also familiar to her. It was one long, greenish robe, remarkably simple in design. Just like the brown ones that Sage-Brothers wore.

It made her remember something, but she had no time to waste thinking about it.

Vriicht broke the silence.

“Could we find an arrangement of some kind that lets me keep my head?”

“I have no intent to kill you, but I will do what is necessary. You’re attacking a kid, I won’t hesitate.” She answered.

“In my defence, we were not going to bother with the kid, but then he became quite rude.”

“Oh really? Rude? How sad…you are a bunch of Bliach. And what I hear are excuses made from their filth.”

“I do not understand that expression, but I assure you, he gave us some very inappropriate statements. Like that my friend was going to murder him, then that, one week later, my friend would be the one getting killed, by clouds.”

Nay almost let the man go out of shock. She had just realized why the clothes were familiar to her.

“By Lebe, you attacked a Teller?”

“Sorry, but I do not know that word.”

“Your colleagues know, they should have told you.”

One of the other four bandits spoke.

“Just stories Vriicht. They are supposed to be monks dressing in robes walking around telling you about your future. In any case, why are you still letting that girlie bother you. It almost seems as if you’re actually scared.”

“Ich dink wa ook.” The Carradin giant added.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t believe this girlie to be exactly normal.”

There were some more sneering.

“You’re out of luck then. We’ll send your head out to your clan, promise.”

“Could I propose an alternative?” The Vriicht may have been afraid, he was still perfectly calm, and he had asked that as if he was currently not a hostage with a knife pushing on his neck.

Nay’s decisions tonight had decidedly been horrible. She sighed: “Go on.”

“Are you familiar with the Kracht?”

“I don’t think so.” She noticed how the face of the behemoth lit up after the word had been spoken though.

“It is a traditional duel, from where I’m from. A way of getting out of a dead-end, like the one we are in. A duel until one gives up or is dead.”

“One on one?”

“Jha.”

She thought about it.

“Fine, but let the kid go first.”

“No. If you lose, we’ll find him again anyway.”

Nay swore internally. He was right, and that was a problem. Even as a hostage, he was not losing the initiative.

“I agree with your terms.” She conceded.

“Good. Ich seer by Kra. I swear by Kra.”

She felt his Rreico. He was not afraid anymore, just amused. She let him go. He jumped from the branch and joined his Carradin friend.

She descended in turn.

The behemoth laughed again.

She raised an eyebrow.

Vriicth had a weird look on his face.

Suermi began talking in Carradin.

His comrade translated.

“You seem delicious, and also, he laughs because of your eyes. Death by clouds makes more sense now, even if still impossible.

With those words, the young boy rose from his feet and tried to come closer, immediately stopped by the other bandits. He was near enough for her to truly see him for the first time, and she had to admit he was extremely effeminate. To the point she doubted to have heard his scream correctly before. Thin, small, a round face with big eyes and luscious lips, he was likely making most men turn around to stare at him. Despite the horrible situation, he was not tearing up anymore, actually he even seemed angry.

“Let me go! The clouds are only supposed to arrive next week, and I’m not rescued! Go away! My book is already so tiny, do not put false Truths inside as well!”

For a short moment, everyone looked at him silently. Because his anger was not directed at the bandits but at…Nay.

“Erm…” She began.

Her enemies roared in laughter.

The one holding the boy added: “Seriously, this one is absolutely mental.”

The two Carradins, still smiling, began talking to each other in their foreign language.

Nay waited, drawing her sword. She was ready for them to change their mind and launch an all-out assault, but she did not think it was going to happen.

The two foreigners began talking louder and louder before Vriicht finally concluded with: “Rock paper scissors. One round!”

Then the two men began singing in Carradin.

“Roch, Papeer, Shnirfel.”

Vriicht right hand was gripped, Suermi’s was open wide.

“Frunt.” The lean Carradin swore.

“Easy.” The giant answered.

He advanced towards her.

“Death, give up. Give your word first.”

Nay sighed. Her dysfunctional Rreico was a problem, but she was happy to face the muscles and not the brain.

“I agree with the Kracht, if I win, you let the boy go. I give you my word, lest the Devil finds me.”

The two Carradins smiled.

“Quite original.” Said Vriicht.

“Ich seer by Kra.” Said the behemoth.

And their duel began.