That fucker jumped me when I walked into this alley and went for the medallion right away as if he knew where to look for anything valuable. He was bigger and stronger than me so he brought me down to the ground easily before reaching for the golden chain around my neck.

I couldn’t believe people can still think about stealing when Meliorport is in flames and people have died…

Let’s just say I wasn’t in the best emotional state and got a bit pissed. The ground sprung up right beside my head and punched him in the nose, probably breaking it, not that I cared. Before he could reorient himself I commanded the winds to push him into a wall and started pummelling with my own hands.

I am weak, physically that is, and a Mage should fight using their mana but at that time… every punch just felt so satisfying. Channeling my frustration into every hit, all the anger, the fear, everything. We did have fights with the gang and I’d lie if I said we never went overboard due to anger but this was different.

Soon after my strength began to fade along with my anger, however, the boy was still very conscious so I kinda… panicked. No longer was I beating him to just feel better, oh no, now I used earth magic and my whole body to knock him out.

He tried to protect his face and begged me to stop, however, I was too scared he might hit me back if I let him go. You can never trust the slum dwellers, and besides, he attacked me first.

In the end, he finally went limp and I just sat down in a corner to finally let out my emotions. Fear, anger, worry… nothing good.

I don’t know how long has passed before I heard someone call my name but I just refused to answer. Refused to see that same old man and to face reality. Of course, he finds me in the end so I just smear the snot and tears into the rag he tied around my head before standing up.

“Elyssia,” He repeats my name and I hate hearing it from his mouth. “did you beat-”

“He deserved it,” I huff. “He tried to mug me as I was looking for a spot to hide.”

“So you beat him unconscious?” The old fart surprisingly laughs which is not a reaction I’m used to after getting into trouble.

“Maybe?” I walk up to him to ask the most important question. “So, tell me you held your end of the bargain?”

He nods solemnly. “They are tired but still breathing.”

“Thank the Gods.” I collapse on my knees as the angst that kept me going completely disappears. My promise was worth it. “Can I see them?”

“I know I can seem like a cold bastard but I’m not evil.” The old and cold not evil bastard shakes his head. “Stand up, I’ll take you there, we should leave the town as quickly as possible.”

He keeps calling it a town, maybe Meliorport is small in the end.

Even with me in his arms the… I should really ask for his name, so we move through the city faster than any messenger, horse, or goa, those weird giant flightless chickens, almost as if the winds themselves were carrying us. Along the way, I see blurs of blood, fire, and destruction everywhere I look and even though I know I wasn’t the one who caused any of this, I do know my existence is what started it all.

When we skid to a halt in front of the gaping hole where once the wall to my room stood I see Mom and Dad sitting in each other’s embrace on my bed with three massive bags at their feet. They basically throw themselves at me as I hop down, picking me up and carrying me back to my bed where we huddle up and cry a little. Just a little.

“Did you agree to go with this man Eli?” Dad asks after my breathing has calmed.

I stay silent for a few seconds, unsure what to do before answering. “We made a deal.”

“You know we can’t come along?” He asks again, his voice surprisingly calm and accepting.

“I knew.” I nod.

It became obvious after the old man tried to make a run for it after he first picked me off the ground. Just like the shadows, he is here for me and for me only.

“What happens now?” I ask after some more silence.

“You made a promise darling so now we need to pack.” Mom strokes my hair and gets up.

***

Clothes, some food, a pair of outdoor boots and of course the gifts I received for my birthday. Instead of the usual comfy skirt, blouse and sandals combo, I put on some proper warm clothes as we’ll be sleeping without a roof above our heads for a few weeks.

I don’t shed any more tears, I did that already and this is for the best. Besides, my parents would be disappointed if I broke my promise, and even worse, I’d be disappointed with myself. I thought I prepared myself for this before accepting the old man’s deal and still… the boots on my feet drag me down and I feel like my world is crumbling before my eyes.

“Where’s Rufus?” I ask as I shoulder my backpack that’s heavier than I’ll ever admit.

“He disappeared Eli, probably still hiding somewhere in the rubble.” Dad strokes my head. “I don’t think we have the time to find him. People will search for what caused this chaos and sooner or later that’ll lead them back to us. We need to go now.”

He’s right, we don’t need any more trouble and right now I am the source of all this trouble.

“Are they good people?” I ask looking at the old man returning with two corpses in his hand.

He looks anything but good.

“The Fist of Krieg are mercenaries Eli, like adventurers but more expensive and more professional and… morally gray. Good things, bad things, they do both depending on how well they get paid.” Mom explains as she returns from the kitchen with the old warrior in her wake.

The person in question doesn’t look too offended at the not-so-kind description of his cult or whatever he’s part of, probably not the first conversation berating them he heard. So this Fist is about fighting, being pretty much free to choose your work, and earning a disgusting amount of money… I think Mom picked the wrong job way back then.

The only reason I don’t like the idea is because it’s not really my choice whether I want to join or not. Okay, I did have a choice but it’s like asking someone if they want a bite of bread or lose an arm. Not much of a choice in my opinion.

“When will we meet again?” I ask my parents, except they’re not the ones to answer.

“Years, at least two, preferably three.” The old mercenary whose name I still haven’t asked chimes in. “There are others like you out there and that’s enough time for all three of you to lose significance at least a little and maybe live a relatively normal life after." Then he turns to my parents. "If I were you I’d seek shelter near Highreef to the east or head southwest towards the holy lands, security around there is a lot more strict. As for you lassie.” His gaze finds me again. “You will come with me to Granhall, where even the imperial army would tread carefully with our headquarters around. A place where they can’t reach you.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

I won't lie, that does sound pretty neat. If this whole mercenary shebang is anything like this old man, and I mean realistic, straightforward, and transaction-based, then the good or bad is really just a question of perspective.

“It is time!” Declares the old man as the light of torches becomes visible on the street.

We’ve only spent around ten minutes preparing for the journey and saying our goodbyes and even that was almost too much. My life, the people I cherish, everything disappears in a matter of hours just because of this Blessing.

I’d rather be normal and happy than special and alone. Damn, I wish I could just change my mind and ask my parents to take me with them to safety, to restart our life somewhere else. The problem is that wherever I am there is no safety, I act like a stupid beacon of danger and… none of us is strong enough to live the way we wish.

Enough Eli, a promise is a promise, at least everyone is alive. Everyone important.

“There’s one last thing to do.” Mom mutters as we stand just outside our home. “Does anyone have a big enough igniter?”

Mom and Dad don’t use the fire element and the old fuck just shakes his head so that leaves… All eyes land on me.

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“What do I need to burn?” I ask and light a small fire in my hand.

For some reason, my question is left unanswered until Dad elbows his wife in the side with a nasty look. “So… we’ll pretend to have died in the chaos to trick anyone who might be after us.” I don’t like it already. “And the best way to do that is faking our deaths. We left two corpses in our room and... well, burning down the house will hide any evidence. This might win us a few days.”

Oh... I liked our house. Not when I wasn’t allowed to leave, or when I was on cleaning duty but the other times. When Mom taught me how to cook or read or when Dad told me about the home of the elves or tucked me in… I liked my room with the walls intact and… This is home, my home, our home.

“I just can’t.” I sniff and extinguish my flames.

“It’s okay Eli, it's fine, you don't have to. I know it's difficult.” Arms wrap around me again.

“May I?” The old man suddenly speaks up again, this time with a torch in his hand.

Did he just steal that? Not a good guy thing that’s for sure.

“No, let me.” Mom takes the torch and throws it into my room through the hole and right onto my bed.

We stand and watch solemnly as the fire slowly spreads, from the bedframe to the floor, to the doors and finally reaching the roof turning what used to be my home into a giant bonfire. A few drops of tears run down my face as I watch my memories burn to ashes with my parents holding my hands on both sides. Their eyes are hollow and their faces a mask of sorrow, mourning what we once had.

There’s no turning back now.

“Stay safe Eli and don't do anything stupid.” Dad lowers himself to one knee and hugs me one last time. “I’ll be praying for you every day.”

“Don’t let anyone change who you are.” Mom joins, the family hug under the light of our burning home. “Find people you can trust but don’t let them manipulate you. I’ll miss you so much my daughter, so so much.”

Their emotions reach me and harden my resolve to do what is right for their safety. It’s more important than anything. At the same time, I’m scared of leaving now and never feeling this warmth again.

“I love you so much.” I mutter as I can’t find any words to reassure them or convey how I feel right now.

Dad is the first one to let go and I almost reach after him as he stands up and puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“We’ll see you in three years Eli.” Mom mutters shouldering her bag and walking down the street without looking back.

They’re gone and now I’m alone. So alone.

My tears fall quietly as they disappear into the night because I don’t want to make this any more difficult for them, to hear me cry as the last thing before they leave.

“Come, I’ll carry you.” The old man says.

“No, I’ll walk on my own.” I mutter.

If I have to do things alone to get them back then so be it.

***

In the end, the old man had to carry me in order to scale the wall. We obviously wanted to leave Meliorport unnoticed but the gates were swarming with guards so we had to take the alternative route. It was surprisingly easy with most people preoccupied with searching the buildings or aiding the rescue effort.

The first hour of our journey southwest was spent in complete silence, me being unwilling to mention what just happened and him probably trying to be considerate.

Oh well, I’ll spend the next too many years of my life around him, I might as well get to know the man.

“What should I call you?” The first and most basic question.

“For now Bennett is fine, around others you’ll call me Captain.” He says without looking back after letting out a sigh.

“What does being a captain mean? And what exactly are you a captain of? A ship?” I purposefully try to sound a bit stupid just to annoy him.

“Captain is a rank among the mercenary corps, it means I command multiple squads in larger operations. And no I don't have a ship.” Damn, a statue of patience, let's see how long that lasts.

“What is this mercenary corps? What do you do?” I sure as hell won't stop asking questions if nobody makes me. Serves him right for not saving my parents faster.

“We are the Fist of Krieg, named after the God of War and Conflict. We exterminate monsters, kill outlaws with big enough bounties and fight in wars if the pay is right.”

“So sellswords, huh? Doing anything for the right price?” I jab and this time actually hit.

“Listen here, lassie.” He looks at me from the corner of his eye with a deep frown. “We are not just a simple ragtag group that does anything if you throw some coin at them. Our morality might be questionable but we’re not some petty criminals and our average strength is far beyond that of a normal soldier.”

I don’t know if I prefer them good or whatever he just described. I feel like people or groups who proclaim themselves righteous are the biggest fakes one can find. You don’t get to decide whether you are good or not, that’s up to the people. Evil stuff works a bit differently so let’s forget about it for now.

Questionable morality… That might be the most honest thing one can say.

“So… What will I do there? In Granhall?” I try to change the topic because last time I wasn’t actually acting.

“Train.” Well, that's vague. After some silence, he continues. “You’ll live with the other kids around your age, improve your Skills and learn what any respectable member should know.” Doesn’t sound that bad.

“What do you mean by others? You found more kids like me?” This piece of information draws my attention.

“Yes, two more and there are some other actual, normal orphans too. We give them a choice in their lives among our ranks.” Sounding quite proud about the orphan thing. “What’s your name girly?” Fuck you. If you snooped around long enough to find out my day of birth then you should know my damn name. You even called me in the alley, stop the bullshit.

“Elyssia.” I grumble.

“From the blessed isles, huh? What blessing did you receive from the Comet?” Now we’re sailing onto sensitive waters.

“My parents told me to only share my Status with those I really trust. Sorry old man we’re not there yet.” I stick out my tongue defiantly.

“Good advice.” He chuckles at my antics. “Except you’ll be under my care for years to come and I won't be able to guide you properly if I don’t know what we’re working with.”

This oldster be damned, does he have a class that’s based on solid arguments? Fine, not like I can say anything.

“I can’t share the details of the Skill.”

“Listen, lass, stop being so stubborn, you... Oh, you are unable to, huh? So a knowledge-based one. Tell me about your Class and general Skills at least, I need something to work with.”

After a little hesitation, I realize that none of this will matter in the long term anyway, I'm young, and I'll be shedding Skills and Classes monthly. And so I pull up my Status and start reading it out loud only to get interrupted right after naming the element of my choice.

“Brat, are you fucking dumb? Why in the Gods’ name would you pick an Arcane Class?” Bennett looks dumbfounded and a bit pissed about my decision.

Oh right, he doesn’t know.