Merlin

His head reeled from everything Achai told him. The man hadn’t known much. Rumors that some monster lived in the caves where they kept the children. Achai had even claimed the children were being used for some kind of ritual sacrifice. But he’d been shut out for a long time. These were likely rumors and assumptions. Merlin believed something else was going on. But how much was the truth, and how much was the anxiety of a father without his child running rampant?

For now, he needed to put those things out of his mind. There were still too many unknowns, and Merlin needed to get to the bottom of it all.

But first, he needed to be a friend.

He found Crussus in a mineshaft nearby after asking around. Plenty of people had noticed him making his way through the camp. Crussus was a good man. He was kind. He was the kind of person who couldn’t hide when he was upset. So, people had taken notice.

The blonde man was leaning along the wall, his neck twisted at an odd angle. Sometimes people got so upset they stopped caring about things like comfort. Merlin sighed. He walked to the opposite side of the cave and slid down the rock wall as well. He scooted his knees up to his body and leaned his head against them.

“Are you doing okay, Crussus?” Merlin asked. He knew it was a stupid question. No one would be doing okay at a time like this. But what else could he say? What were the right things to say?

He didn’t have an answer.

Crussus looked up at Merlin as if he had just realized he was there. “You heard him, didn’t you? They took my boy, Merlin. I don’t even know what I’m doing this for now. I did all this. I wanted to fight because of him. But he’s gone. He’s been gone for months. I didn’t even know. Now it’s too late.”

Merlin sighed. “We don’t know that. There could’ve been any number of reasons why he wasn’t there. Maybe they moved him to another daycare?” He looked down. He’d heard Achai’s explanation. This wasn’t fair. To offer hope. To say things he didn’t believe. What would he do? If he found out Charlie wasn’t safe. If he learned Charlie had been taken deep into the dungeon like this other boy had?

He’d feel the same way Crussus did.

Merlin shook his head. “Crussus, I’m sorry. Truth is, I don’t know what to say. But I do know this. There is more going on here than we know. If we give up now, you’ll never find out the truth.”

Crussus looked up at him. “The truth?” he asked. His eyes were dead inside, as if Achai had ripped out his spirit. “The truth about what?”

“All we know is what Achai told us. But he isn’t fully in the loop. There is more going on behind the scenes. If we want the truth, we have to bring Varroc down. We have to topple this corrupt town and free its people. And then I’ll go into that dungeon with you, Crussus. Whatever we find in there, we’ll face together. You have my word.”

Crussus sighed. He looked at Merlin, staring at him for a moment. Then he nodded. “Godo was right. I should’ve told you about the rebellion before.”

Merlin’s head leaned to the side. He didn’t disagree, but now wasn’t the time to say that. “I don’t hold it against you or anything. If you want to tell me, tell me. If not, I understand that as well. My biggest concern is the present, but if you think sharing what happened before can help, I’d like to hear it.”

Crussus stared at the floor. He bit the inside of his lip while he thought. Finally, he nodded, and started speaking without looking up.

“I told you before that a group of knights from another nation came here. Well, I was one of them. I was their leader. We’d come in pursuit of Varroc.”

Merlin shook his head. He certainly hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean, you were one of them? You’re a knight?” he asked. He shouldn’t be so surprised. Crussus was a muscular man, and he certainly gave off the impression that he could kill someone five different ways with just a stick. But even then, thinking that, and hearing it, were two different things. “Why were you chasing Varroc? What did he do?”

“Are you familiar with Coelacanth?” Crussus asked.

Merlin’s eyes widened. He was all too familiar. “They’re one of the largest guilds, aren’t they? They have a lot of influence from what I hear. Even associations with some of the noble families.”

Crussus nodded. “Coelacanth is one of the big three. Some would even peg them as number one, but that’s debatable. Either way, they’re known for getting the job done. But that’s all they care about. They’ve done some truly savage things to complete jobs. That reputation that precedes them, the one that says you’re better off turning around and walking away than getting involved with them? It’s accurate. The kingdom looks the other way. Not just for them, but for all the big guilds. People say any of the big three have enough power to rival that of the royal family. Of course, no one wants to put that claim to the test. So, the guilds play nice, and the kingdom looks the other way. No one takes advantage of this more than Coelacanth.”

Merlin stood. This was a lot to take in. He knew they were one of the sketchier guilds, but big three? Really? What did any of this have to do with Varroc and Sange? Were they the ones behind this? “Okay, but what about them?”

Crussus held up a hand. Right, he was getting to that part.

“Varroc was a member. Hell, there was a time where most of the guards of Sange worked for the guild. He was on a mission in Tantaloo, the nation where I was born. The nation where I was a knight. I don’t know what happened, or why. I don’t know if they had a falling out, or Varroc was offended by something. Or maybe Varroc had been sent to do it in the first place. But he killed a nobleman’s daughter.”

Merlin squinted. So Crussus had been sent to get revenge.

Crussus looked up at him for the first time since they’d started talking.

“He killed the woman I loved, Merlin.”

Merlin froze.

Crussus pressed a hand to his knee and stood up. “The King of Aysela promised to intervene. We wanted Varroc’s head, but Coelacanth said they would deal with it internally. Even the guild couldn’t ignore one of their members causing an international incident. They agreed to turn his body over to the King of Aysela upon his return. But Varroc never went back. He and his men went underground. He knew he’d went too far. Varroc, for all his moral failings, wasn’t an idiot. So, he disappeared. It took years, but finally, I found a lead. Someone had seen one of his subordinates, a woman named Philomena, in one of Sange’s border towns.”

This was a lot to take in. “So, you went after him?”

Crussus nodded. “I went to the Queen of Tantaloo and asked for an army. But she feared it might start a war if we crossed Aysela’s borders in mass. She said she wouldn’t forbid me from going, but that I would have to do so of my own volition in a non-official capacity. I handpicked four other men, and we crossed the border. We infiltrated this town with the sole intention of killing Varroc. Sometimes, I think I should’ve just done it. We had a chance, you know.”

Merlin scoffed. “What? You did, but why didn’t you take it? He killed the woman you love…I don’t understand.”

“We had to blend in with the people here. Back then, things were different. The system you see today was in its early stages. No one was allowed to leave. Those that came were pressed into service, working in mines. It was dangerous work, but we needed time to figure out a plan. At night, we escaped from the camps. There were far fewer guards then. That was when I heard rumors of a dungeon within the city. It wasn’t the open secret it is today. I investigated it. That’s when I met him.”

Crussus

Four years ago, in the days leading up to the failed rebellion.

“Are you sure about this? We haven’t come this far from the camp in a while. If we’re caught out here Crussus…”

“I know, Ren. We’ll be fine. The dungeon should be up just ahead. Wait here and keep watch.”

Rem sighed. He brushed ginger hair from his face and shook his head. What were sworn brothers for if not to watch your back? “Be careful.”

Crussus nodded and patted Ren on the back before hurrying off.

Sure enough, the dungeon was here. Crussus prided himself on being a man that was hard to surprise. But this was surprising. A city built around a dungeon. This was the kind of thing that would reach the ears of even neighboring countries. For the Queen to have no knowledge of it…that was concerning. If Aysela was keeping something like this secret, what else were they hiding?

The dungeon’s mouth had a few scattered fragments of dungeallis crystal. They were dim, not worth much by the look of it. It was as if where the buildings ended; the dungeon began. That…was strange.

But a few moments later, something surprised him even further. A young blonde boy appeared almost out of nowhere and crouch walked into the dungeon.

“What the—” Crussus vaulted from his hiding place behind an old cart in the street.

His curiosity wouldn’t allow him to return to Ren now. This boy could get hurt, or worse. Inside the city or not, dungeons were dangerous. No place for a boy. He drew the small dagger he kept hidden on his person and hurried after the boy. He couldn’t have gone far.

The dungeon’s hallway wasn’t particularly special. Nothing to make it stand out from any other Crussus had been inside. He ran his fingers along the wall as he went. The walls were cold to the touch.

“Agh!” someone screamed. Crussus jumped back, parrying the blade of the attacker.

The boy lost his balance and fell to the ground. Crussus pressed his knife to the boy’s back. He looked for the weapon. It was a butter knife. This kid had come into a dungeon with a butter knife.

He sighed. “Why are you in a dungeon, boy?” Crussus asked.

The boy didn’t look up. He was young. Ten or eleven, if Crussus had to guess.

“My parents were brought here. I’m looking for them.”

Crussus nodded. He looked up into the dungeon. There were plenty of cases of missing people in Sange. He heard more about it every day. Some adults, some children. If this boy wasn’t careful, he’d end up missing too.

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He sheathed his dagger and offered a hand to the boy. “Come on, get up.”

The boy rolled over, looking unsure, but took the offered hand.

“Now, tell me your name.”

The boy looked away. “It’s Tomas.”

Crussus knew what it was like to want to be strong. To be able to fight and help others. So, he trained the boy. During the day, he worked in the mines with the others. At night, he snuck away and met with Tomas. He taught him how to wield a blade. How to fight. How to protect himself. He taught Tomas what it meant to be a man and how to survive on his own. The boy was an orphan now. There was no getting around it. But that didn’t mean his life was over.

It meant he had to adapt.

The other knights grew impatient. They wanted to finish the job they had come for. To slay Varroc and return home to the lives they’d left behind. They were knights masquerading as slaves. Of course, they wanted out.

But the more time he spent among the people of Sange, the less he felt he could just walk away.

Killing Varroc wouldn’t solve anything for these people. An assassination wouldn’t change the way things were. He had two equally capable subordinates who would simply rise and take his place.

No, if Crussus wanted to help the people of Sange. If he wanted to help Tomas, the boy he had become so attached to, he needed to end this town’s oppression once and for all.

He started a rebellion.

He convinced Ren first, his closest friend. Then, with Ren’s help. They convinced the others. Before long, they did what they did best. They built an army. The blacksmiths of Sange crafted extra weapons in secret. At night, the people trained deep in the mineshafts under the supervision of the knights. The once proud people of Sange were ready to retake their home.

And then came the day. They rose up.

Crussus parried a blade and cut through the soldier before him. He brought his foot around and kicked the man off the city walls. He turned and surveyed the battle. The city streets ran red with the blood of Varroc’s mercenaries. The people of Sange had numbers. They had a dream of freedom that a love for gold, women and power could not compete with.

Ren and the others had already fought their way to Varroc. He was cornered, backed up to the edge of the city’s wall. He’d killed one knight before the others had reached him. But now, his end was near. Crussus needed to join them, to see this through. Varroc may be cornered, but a cornered man was dangerous.

Several other soldiers rushed to Crussus. They exchanged a series of blows, but in the end, they were no match for a knight of Tantaloo.

“Brel! Philo!” Varroc bellowed at the top of his lungs. His blade flashed wildly, just barely holding back his attackers.

Crussus cursed. They needed to end this. To cut Varroc down before his lieutenants arrived.

Ren knew he must be close by. “Crussus! To us!” he cried out without turning away from the battle at hand. Crussus cursed himself for getting separated from the others. Among the knights of his country, he was unrivaled with the blade. Varroc was his to take revenge upon. Already one of his brothers had fallen. He needed to aid the others.

He cut down two more men who found themselves unfortunate enough to be in his path and hurried toward them. But in the corner of his eye, he saw something that made him halt.

A proud citizen of Sange fighting for freedom.

One who had promised to hide away until the fighting was over.

He saw Tomas.

Little Tomas was on the battlefield, fighting alongside his people. His lessons were paying off, too. Two dead soldiers littered the ground around the young boy. Whether they had been thrown off by his age and stature, or if he had truly bested them, Crussus didn’t know. But he did know that right now Tomas was struggling. He’d encountered a swordsman much too strong for him. The difference in power was obvious.

It was all the young boy could do to hold back the larger man’s attacks.

The soldier was toying with him.

Crussus gritted his teeth. To his left, the knights still fought Varroc. To his right, his student was fighting for his life. He had to make a call.

He cursed.

“Tomas!” he yelled, running toward the boy.

The soldier he fought finally grew tired of their game. He swung his powerful blade and sent the young boy’s weapon flailing over the edge of the wall. Tomas swallowed and took several steps back.

But there was nowhere to run.

The soldier lifted his sword again. He laughed. He was so eager to cut down a little boy. To snuff out so much potential. Crussus offered him an appropriate award. He struck his blade out and ran it through the man’s back.

The man gasped in surprise, looking down at the sword poking through his chest as the impact raised him into the air.

Crussus pulled his blade back. Blood spewed from the wound. He wondered if the man still found his actions amusing. If he did, his face didn’t reflect it. All Crussus saw on that face was the look of pure agony. That was something to smile about.

A dishonorable man choking on his own blood.

Tomas looked up at him. “I’m sorry…I wanted to help.”

Crussus held a hand out to him, the memory of the day they’d first met fresh in his mind. “All is well. Stick close to me, okay?” There was not time to get the boy to safety. He needed to aid his friends. Tomas nodded.

He picked up the fallen soldier’s blade and nodded.

“Reinforcements!” one of the Varroc’s men called out from higher on the nearby watchtower. Crussus looked over the wall. Men in green cloaks were coming from somewhere deeper in the city. He squinted. He’d never seen those clothes before. The people of Sange fighting below charged them. They were clearly enemies.

The green cloaked men raised their hands and bursts of magic shot out.

The resistance soldiers disintegrated.

“Oh, no.” He would deal with Varroc, and then…

“Ah!” A large man charged, roaring from the watchtower. He must have climbed up on the other side. He had a large hammer in his hands, and when he reached the watchtower’s edge, he jumped.

It was Brel, come to rescue Varroc.

Ren noticed it first. He deflected one of Varroc’s attacks and then pushed one of the other knights back out of the way.

He tried to move himself. To get out of the way. But he was too slow. The hammer came crashing down on his head. Blood splattered.

Crussus came to a stop. He shook his head, staring at the gruesome scene with wide eyes. Ren, his sword brother. The man he had trained with since boyhood to be knights in her majesty’s service. Ren, the first man to agree to come Aysela with him in pursuit of revenge.

He had died like this?

Impossible.

Crussus wasn’t the only one caught off guard. The other knight, who still stood, turned back to see what had happened. Varroc seized the opportunity and ran him through with his blade.

The knight Ren had pushed out of the way scrambled backward, trying to get some distance. Brel laughed. He brought his hammer down over the man.

Crussus could’ve saved him. He couldn’t have done anything about Ren or the other knight. But Crussus might’ve saved the last one. If he acted. But he was stunned.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

She wouldn’t have wanted this.

He felt a hand grab his own. He looked down to see Tomas looking up at him.

Crussus shook out of his trance.

This wasn’t about revenge anymore. He was fighting for something more. These people needed him.

Tomas needed him.

He would bury Ren tomorrow. But today, he would fight.

“Varroc!” he cried out, sprinting into battle. The odds were against him now. But that didn’t matter. The souls of his brothers in arms fought alongside him. Even now when he had failed them. He could feel their spirits.

He would fight, even if it cost him his life.

Brel swung his hammer, a normal blade could not deflect it. But Crussus did not wield a normal blade. Nor was his strength that of a normal man.

He dragged his blade against the city wall as he charged, and it lit like a match, the entirety of it roaring to life. It’s hue a molten color. He lifted it to strike back at Brel, and the impact threw the hammer backwards. Brel barely held onto it.

The magic explosions of the cloaked men and the screams of the villagers filled his ears. He needed to end this quickly.

Varroc cursed, lifting his own blade. But the kierstone blades of Tantaloo were unrivaled. Their blades met.

Varroc’s blade shattered, unable to stand against the blade Crussus wielded.

Brel recovered. He swung his hammer again.

Crussus held his blade to Varroc’s throat.

Brel's eyes widened. He stopped, straining to hold back his attack.

Varroc grinned. “Second thoughts?” He laughed manically. His eyes went down to Ren’s body. “Now I know why you came here. To get revenge. Your friend talks too much. He should’ve focused on the fight.”

Crussus pressed his blade further into Varroc’s neck. “Call off your men, now. Surrender!” He could kill Varroc easily, but if the fighting didn’t stop, so much would be lost. Those casters in green cloaks had some kind of power he’d never even seen before. They didn’t even use hexes.

The only way path to victory was to take Varroc hostage.

Varroc risked a slow turn to look into the city streets below. “Those aren’t my men. They won’t listen to me. Besides, why do you think you’re in charge? Haven’t you heard the news? I can do anything I want here.”

Crussus remembered in that moment something vital he missed. Varroc had called for both of his lieutenants. But only one was in front of him. He looked over his shoulder.

Philomena. She stood there with her arm wrapped around Tomas’ neck. She had a blade in her other hand.

If Crussus wanted Varroc’s life, it was his. But it would come at the price of Tomas. The boy he’d come to see as a son. The light in a world darkened by the murder of the woman he loved.

How could he see such a light extinguished twice?

Tomas couldn’t speak. But his eyes said it all. “Do it. Kill him!” Crussus imagined him saying.

But Crussus could not. He threw down his sword. To spare a life he’d come to see as precious.

Varroc grinned. He looked at Philomena. “We need to make sure neither of them ever forgets this failure. Make sure they remember it.”

She smiled. She lifted her knife and pressed it deep into Tomas’ cheek, and then she sliced him across the face, marking him.

Tomas screamed.

Merlin

“I made a monster that day,” Crussus said.

“Varroc was already a monster! That’s not your fault!” Merlin said.

“After that encounter, Varroc started rounding up the children and taking them to the daycares. That’s when it started. We got so close to winning, but in the end, we only made Varroc that much more powerful. Now, he’s paranoid. He spared me to ensure I remained a reminder of a failed rebellion. And after all that, I lost Tomas anyway. He’s gone, Merlin. So, what was it all for?”

Merlin took a deep breath. “Crussus, would Tomas want you to give up now? After everything you’ve been through? Wouldn’t he want you to keep fighting? To win freedom for the people? I don’t think he would give up. I don’t think you should either. We have a chance here. To fix things. To change things. But I can’t do that without you. You made the right decision. At least, that’s how I feel. You should keep moving forward. Don’t give up. Let’s do this, just like how we started. Let’s set these people free together.”

Crussus looked up. His eyes searched the ground for an answer as he reflected on Merlin’s words. “What would Tomas want…” He nodded. “You’re right, Merlin. Of course, you’re right.”

They clasped hands.

The rebellion was alive and well. Though there were things on the horizon that gave Merlin pause. He wondered what they would find at the center of the dungeon. There were also the snatchers. This power Crussus described seemed dangerous.

How were they supposed to get around something like that?

Regardless, he knew Charlie was counting on him.

This rebellion would not fail again. No matter what.