Reaching the riders, Reza took the last few seconds to read the enemy. Fortunately it became quickly clear, none of them had a hint of magic. Though not to his surprise, the lone rider held a pact with a wraith confirming that he was from Arkhen. Unfortunately, the young rider's aura was weak; Reza had almost not noticed it in its state.

Aura’s were a reflection of the magic and power an individual held. The more powerful the individual was, the stronger and more potent their aura would be. It held many uses, but its basic feature was to show how powerful an individual was, making it either a warning or invitation. Reza’s ability to see the aura was rare, but among the best of the pact holders or mages, it was commonplace and was one of the reasons he had risen as high as he had. Knowing your enemy was imperative to have as an officer, and major combatant.

Mages or pact wielders could make anyone feel their aura when they wanted, making it bear down on the people around them. A common citizen would not be able to stand their ground and would fall to their feet if an Aura geared down on them. If an Archon were to flare their aura, it could force even powerful magic users to be forced to their knees.

Aura’s could also be hidden, users could control it enough that they could walk the streets and not bother a soul, nor would another mage know they had magic. This took a great deal of practice, and was one of the first skills pact wielders were taught. But Reza and the others like him could circumvent people when they attempted to hide it. He could still feel the echo of their aura at all times, see the color of their power. He would not how strong the individual was, just know they had some level of magic. Stronger individuals like Archons could still hide it with their overwhelming power gap between them and someone like Reza, but few could do it perfectly.

Knowing all this, Reza needed to finish the fight quickly. The young rider was dangerously weak, the crimson color of his aura precariously flickering in and out of existence.

Finishing the last hundred yards in seconds, Reza could see the riders focused solely on their target and had not yet noticed him. The early dawn light was not enough, it seemed, for them to take notice of a single man in the early light.

Without warning, Reza flared his power and appeared on the back of one of their horses, his dagger snaking into the rider's neck. The rider fell silently with his vocal cords cut through. Reza looked for his wraith and, finding her, flared his power again. He appeared above the next rider, stabbing down into the head of the second rider to the base of his dagger blade before again switching with her. Within seconds, half of the eight riders were dead, and the rest scattered from what probably felt like a monster within their ranks.

By this time, the rest had figured out they were not alone and had let go of the chase, keeping a wary eye for him. Reza waited a moment, feeling his power ebbing slightly though he had plenty to continue the fight. Unfortunately, having been awake for over a day and being forced to move at his top speed to catch them before they killed the lone soldier, he had left himself with a smaller pool of power than he would like entering a fight.

He held both blades to his side and prepared for the rush. Two came at him, but he flared and appeared to the right, throwing his dagger, catching one of his opponents just below the ribs. The man collapsed silently off his horse, a bowstring snapped, and reflexively, Reza flared and saw an arrow shoot through his wraith’s ethereal body, harmlessly disappearing.

Falling to the ground as another arrow shot towards him, the hard paving stone forced the air out of his lungs and momentarily left him vulnerable. Allowing himself a moment to catch his breath and quickly regain his wits, Reza flared his power, jumping. Horns blared in the distance, confirming that reinforcements were on their way, but it would still take time for them to reach the fight.

With a lull in the fighting around his vicinity, as there were no soldiers alive close to him, Reza got his bearings and looked for the lone soldier. It did not take long before he saw the last three soldiers surrounding the young man, with his horse nowhere to be seen. The soldier looked worse for wear, with his aura in constant flux. The exhaustion was even more evident as he attempted to defend himself with a black sword held shakily in defense, the time of the blade dropping low, his eyes barely able to stay open. Standing right in front of him was a crimson wraith, protectively guarding him.

Elana, Reza’s wraith, quickly joined the other wraith, and he flared, taking her place and cutting at the closest soldier, joining the young boy.

"Keep close, and we might just survive this," Reza said, glancing at the teenager, he realized. The young man nodded and kept his hands tight on the sword. The crimson glow of the wraith caught Reza's eye. "What powers do you have? And can you help?."

He shook his head. "I just made my pact. I don't even know how to use this sword." The exhausted soldier looked like he was about to cry, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "My cousin was going to teach me."

"Give me the sword," Reza ordered, and the young man handed it over. The sword was probably the best weapon he had ever held. The black sword felt perfectly balanced in his hand, like an extension of his arm. In his hands, Reza felt as if this could slice through anything it touched. Beyond that, within seconds of holding the blade, Reza felt the power emanating from the blade; something else lay deep within the weapon, something aware of him. There was no time to understand what he felt from the blade nor to try to know how to use such power. "Keep behind me."

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Reza prepared to finish the fight with the young man hiding right next to a small stone column at the edge of the main road. They didn't give Reza much time to react, forcing him to flare to escape their attack. One seemed to understand what he was fighting better than the others and smartly stayed close to Elana.

Damnit. Reza was forced to use his sword to block the man's blade, and they continued to fight for a few moments, the enemy keeping up with Reza disappearing, countering each time he attacked. Unfortunately for the man, his skills with the sword were not enough in the end, and Reza used the black blade to cut smoothly into the man's sword arm with ease as if nothing was stopping its path. The enemy soldier roared in pain, holding the stub of his lost limb before a well-placed kick to the chest brought him to the ground.

Reza flared and attacked the final two soldiers. They had tried to use his distraction with the other soldier first to try and kill the exhausted young man. Knowing the fight was all but over, Reza first used the black blade to easily cut through one of the two soldiers before switching with Elana again.

Turning his wrist at the last moment, he slammed the flat of his sword into the soldier's ribs, breaking them. The soldier collapsed to the ground from the strength of the blow and was grasping for air. Reza kicked the blade out of the man's hands and kept the black sword close to the man's neck, just in case the man tried anything stupid. By this point, Reza could hear more riders thundering down on them, fortunately, this time from the direction of the city.

"It would be better if you just lay there, please," Reza kept his attention on the downed soldier, expecting him to do something stupid, and the man did not disappoint.

"Die, heathen." The soldier spat blood at Reza's boot, trying to pull a dagger out.

Stepping close, Reza kicked into the man's broken ribs and leaned in closely. "Now, why did you follow my directions? Before I end your life, I need you to answer a single question: Who sent you here?"

"Dernadan will send you to the Abyss." He choked a shuttering breath before he could speak again, but Reza waited with the sword leaning against the man's throat lightly. With another harsh breath, laced with pain, the man spoke again. “He will have this city burned."

Dernadan? He did not recognize the name, possibly the general or leader of the enemy force coming to attack the city or some ruler declaring war against them. Each was quite a leap when it came to guessing the identity of Dernadan and his purpose in KIlling Marcellus and his young cousin. Unfortunately for Reza, the name was nothing to him. He would report it to his superiors and the ten families, and maybe one of them would know. If not, they would still have this soldier to get more answers.

But with an answer having been given, Reza was satisfied for now.

"Be a dear and just lie there," Reza growled and punched the man, feeling the nose crack under his knuckles before the man went still, unconscious.

Checking over the unconscious man, Reza was pleased to see that the enemy soldier would likely survive the wounds he had inflicted on him, unlike the others who had ridden with him. Examining the scene around him, it was clear that the seven other soldiers had died of their wounds. Unfortunately, Reza had not been focused on getting more prisoners during the brief fight. His safety and the safety of the young soldier had been first and foremost in his mind. Reza was still pleased with his work this morning; saving the young man and one prisoner was better than none.

Having tied the prisoner’s hands up with a bit of rope, Reza turned his attention to the rapidly nearing horses and the young man, though they were still a few minutes away. The soldier was spent and could barely keep himself conscious with his head held low, leaning against a small stone column at the edge of the main road to the city.

Reza asked the first question that came to mind. “Who are you? And why were these men chasing you?"

The boy looked up at Reza, the exhaustion more evident, his eyes barely able to stay open. "Lukas Sulli.”

Reza's eyes were wide, but Lukas didn’t notice, continuing to answer Reza’s question.

“My cousin Marcellus is-was, an Archon and General of the Third." Lukas stopped for a moment before starting to speak again. "He saved me and told me to ride for the city."

Reza wanted to whistle, but he knew better than disrespecting the dead. If true, this was indeed a feat by the young man. It had been more than a day since the boy had to have left his cousin's side. This boy must have been riding in the dark with those men following for that entire time.

Damn, impressive. Reza had more than a few more questions about what happened to the young man's cousin, but there would be time for that later. He honestly was surprised he got that much out of him. Lukas had to be running on pure remnants of adrenaline; his aura was barely identifiable, though it felt stronger than it was when Reza first set his sight on it.

He'd have to get him to the city as soon as possible. The Sulli family was probably at their wit's end with the events of the last day and would likely be very happy for some good news in these dark times.

It took only a few moments to gather a couple of horses, knowing he didn't want to walk back to the city. Lukas’s horse was unable to walk properly, and no one would be able to ride it before it was healed and cared for. It deserved every bit of care it could possibly get for what it had done to bring the lad back to the city.

Taking two of the enemy's horses, Reza took one for himself before helping Lukas into the saddle of the other. He waited until twenty soldiers approached them before jumping into the saddle.

"This one’s still alive," He called to the officer of the city guard, who came close, pointing to the man still unconscious next to the road. "I'm taking him to the city."

Without another word and leaving the guards behind, Reza turned his horse and moved to the Lukas's side. His head was held low, and it looked almost like he was asleep before he moved to look at Reza.

"Let's get going. I'm sure there are a great many people who will be mighty pleased to see you alive." Reza grabbed the reins and, with a light squeeze of his legs, had the horses start towards the city.