“Are you looking for brave men, strong men ? Are you in need of immediate protection, or do you wish for a rival lord to meet his demise ? Search no further ! The Black Pelt Company is the mercenary band YOU need ! Brave men, strong men ! We have them all ! Find us in Quarras, and for a modest sum, get brave men, strong men, to do your binding !
-Advert for the Black Pelt Company”
* * *
Azcheron
They entered the city without any trouble. The guards stopped them at the gates but Azcheron didn't carry weapons or anything suspicious, and Erin showed them her mercenary badge. Her large sword was eye-catchy, and with her scars and her dented armour, she had quite the fierce look. Azcheron was amused that for once he wasn't the one everyone was glancing at.
Curiously, Erin didn't seem to dislike the attention. If you were to ask Azcheron he would even say that she secretly enjoyed it. Well, maybe he had a biased opinion. People had the tendency to find their own traits – especially their faults – in others people's personalities. Still, she was walking with confidence a few steps in front of him while they searched for an inn, as if she had forgotten that she collapsed in the middle of a battle a week before.
No, perhaps she was walking like someone who had recently braved blood and cold steel, and dodged by a hair's breadth the grasp of death.
As Azcheron lost himself in thought, Erin, who already knew the city, had led the two of them to a decent looking tavern. She apparently chose an establishment where she knew they could bath. Erin still had dried blood and dirt all over her, and Azcheron, while he could clean himself with magic, hadn't had a real bath since god-knows-when.
They agreed to talk about their future plans the next day and both went to sleep in their respective room. In the morning, they had a quick breakfast and discussed the day's agenda.
“I'll need to report to my captain before I can decide on anything. In the worst case he could refuse my resignation and give me some crap about being under-staffed, or try to trick me with a shady contract or something like that.”
“Will you become a runaway then ?”
“No ? I'll be stuck here. Why are you asking that while smiling ?” she said, frowning.
“Hehe, don't worry. They'll want to keep you because you look tough, but for the same reason they won't get on your bad side.”
I think ?
“How would you know ?” she replied mockingly, as if reading his mind.
I don't. But I'm always right ! The Great Cursed Forest proved it.
“Well, you'll see soon enough anyway. How long do you think it'll take ?”
“I don't know. I should be done by noon, hopefully.”
“I'll talk a walk around the town then. Let's meet back at the inn for lunch.”
And he strode off without waiting for her answer.
* * *
Jormas
The north gate was bustling with activity as merchants, travellers and workers were already busy outside in the cold morning.
Jormas was unloading wooden crates from the last carriage of his caravan, pearls of sweat running along his forehead and his back. It was starting to get very chilly but the manual labour made him feel like it was still summer.
He had arrived yesterday in the evening, and since everyone was tired from the journey, he and his employees had decided to unload and deliver the merchandise in the morning.
As he stopped to take a look at the cargo, he turned and yelled something to his apprentice, who had mixed up a few boxes with his negligence. “Damn brat still have a long way to go till he becomes a proper merchant” he mumbled.
Jormas would rather unload all his cargo by himself because he felt others would make a mess out of his rigorous organization. He prided himself in his perfect monitoring of the merchandise and his clients trusted him with his job.
He sat down and wiped the sweat while checking some forms and receipts. He saw feet walking toward him and was faced with a blonde youth in a curious feathered coat when he looked up.
“Good morning, brave man.”
“What can I do for you, kid ? Make it quick, if you can. We're busy.”
“Mmh. I gather you're a travelling merchant ?” He paused and waited for Jormas to nod. “You wouldn't happen to know of any caravan departing for the capital in the days to come, would you ?”
Jormas stared at the youth for a moment. He didn't look like an ill-intentioned thug yet there was something atrociously suspicious about him. Perhaps it had to do with the conspicuously mischievous grin plastered on his face.
“As luck would have it, I do. I'll be returning there the day after tomorrow.” He squinted his eyes. “Why ?”
“A friend and I are looking for transportation. We can handle the escorting stuff for whatever wage you deem right, if you're willing to take us on board,” he said nonchalantly.
“I already have enough guards on my payroll. Why should I employ you ?" He took a long look around, and continued on a fake innocent tone. "And I don't seem to see your friend in these parts.”
“Oh, she's busy elsewhere. She doesn't know about that for now. We're plenty enough though. You could probably send your guards away and save a lot of money !”
Hnng, what's up with this brat ? Is he messing with me ?
As if to answer Jormas' thoughts, the blonde brat clasped his hands together before separating them, revealing a tortuous net of buzzing, crackling electric arcs, stretching from one hand to the other. The boy seemed amused by Jormas' reaction.
A mage, eh ? Now we're talking.
“My friend's a former mercenary. So, what do you say ?” he asked with a confident smile.
Jormas answered with a grin of his own.
"Come, boy. Let us talk inside, where it is warm."
* * *
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Erin
Erin sighed as she exited her captain's office. Ex-captain, mind you. He hadn't been too hard on her. The guy was pragmatic and he had seen many things in his life. He surely knew that things happened when you were on a job and that sometimes you couldn't do much about it.
If anything, Erin felt that he was glad that she, at least, made it out alive. Maybe he could easily understand why she would want to leave the band, with the feelings of bitterness and guilt.
Or, and the thought slightly displeased her, maybe he had been accommodating just because she was a girl, or worse, because of her name.
I think he's the only one here who knows about that. I'd find it annoying to receive favourable treatment any other day, but I'll gladly take advantage of it this time.
Just as she was thinking that the ordeal went swifter than expected, she saw a familiar face in the courtyard.
Oh, come on.
She only had to cross the courtyard. Then the gate. Then she'd be in the streets, going back to the inn.
But no, obviously. She had to bump into him. And by the look of anger on his face, she could guess that the rumours about her squad – his friends – and her resignation had already circulated.
“Well, what do we have here ? That's Erin if I'm not mistaken !” the man said, moving in front of her as she tried to bypass him.
“Hi, Yaras. Funny seeing you right when I was about to leave.”
“I know. That's why I was waiting there. Waiting for the bitch to wish her good continuation !”
“That's almost nice of you. I could do without the insult though.”
“Shut up. You know the reason I'm here.”
Of course I do. And of course I know what you're about to say.
The man carried on in a clearly angrier tone. “How does it feel to get your whole unit killed and then be able to walk out like nothing happened ?!”
“It's great. Ever heard of survivor's guilt ? It feels so refreshing.” She sighed. “Look, Yaras, I'm sorry. I wish things had turned out differently. I wish I could have done something about it. And I tried, but it was hopeless. Trust me, I was here. I'm not trying to make excuses. Everyone died and I wasn't able to prevent that. That's all.”
Yaras didn't respond. She could guess what was going on in his mind. He probably knew he couldn't pin down all the blame on her, but anger was messing up his thoughts. Seeing as this wouldn't lead anywhere, she was about to walk around him and leave.
But instead of blocking her path, this time he swung his hand at her face.
A fist ? No, a slap.
She swiftly deflected his lunge and pushed him aside. Seeing him not backing away and coming with another strike, she grabbed and pulled his arm, throwing him off-balance, and crouched to sweep at his legs. He fell on his side and after a moment, tried to get up, supporting himself on his elbow.
Erin paused, waiting to see if he was going to stand up and try something else, but he just kept his head down. Then she glanced at his eyes.
His look was still one of anger, but now, there was also and mostly frustration and sorrow.
He wasn't going to stand anytime soon.
She only said in a low voice “I'm sorry for your loss, Yaras,” as she started to walk toward the gate.
* * *
When Erin arrived at the inn, it wasn't even noon. Seeing as Azcheron hadn't come back yet, she went in her room and laid on her bed, bathing in the faint light of the sun coming through the window, her arms crossed behind her head. She closed her eyes and organized her thoughts.
She hadn't been a mercenary for very long. About half a year, but that time had served its purpose. She only sought real battle experience to test herself in life and death situations. She did face danger on a lot of occasions but it always went rather well until the last attack.
Now she had gotten hold of something precious : experiences of both despair and renewed resolve in the face of death, and then, feelings of loss and guilt. In a way, her time with the mercenaries was a success.
Now was time to decide what to no next.
“Decisions, decisions...” she muttered.
She could become an explorer or an adventurer and travel the world.
Winter was about to hit the Empire but in four or five months the snows would clear and she could go north and visit one of those 'heretic' free cities everyone in the Empire was talking about. Maybe she'd get to be employed by a demon lord or whatever they're called.
It was probably all propaganda from these twisted imperialistic minds bent on conquest and hegemony. These cities's relationships with the capital were as bad as they get, so bad that a war was bound to happen in the coming years. She wouldn't have any trouble to find a suitable job worthy of her skills then.
Or she could cross the westerns mountains and see for herself if the Desolate Lands were as barren and hostile as the history books say. Although if that was the case she'd probably die there, if she went alone. The stone golems weren't the most friendly existence in this desert. Actually, there were the only thing you could encounter aside from sand and rocks. Then again, stone golems were made of sand and rocks. It would be an awfully accurate truth to say that there was only sand and rocks in the Desolate Lands. In any case, it was a very dangerous sandy and rocky place which she wouldn't visit by herself if she intended to keep on living. Hell, even the rocks were sharp enough to kill you. And that was assuming she was able to cross the mountain range. Not many dared to try in decades, and for a good reason – some dragons had decided to make it their new home.
Of course she had thought about going back to the capital with Azcheron. He was fun to be with, and she had people there that she had not seen since she left.
Well, that's kind of the issue.
Erin had left for a reason, and there were some people she wasn't keen on meeting.
I just wish I could change my name and ask Azcheron to teach me metamorphosis magic or something... she joked to herself.
As she was considering her possibilities, someone knocked on the door.
“Yes ?”
“Oh, you're already back.” It was Azcheron's voice. “Perfect then. Coming down for lunch ? I'll be waiting.”
“I'll be there in a moment," she replied before waiting to hear his footsteps fainting away in the corridor and in the staircase.
She sat up and considered her options, but she was starting to get hungry. She took a deep breath and left her room to join Azcheron.
She found him in a corner of the hall, arms crossed against his chest, surveying the room with a stern expression. When he noticed Erin he kept still, only following her with his eyes as she walked toward him. Two plates filled with meat and bread, next to cups and a jug of wine, were already served on the table. It was late in the morning, she didn't feel like waiting until noon to eat, and apparently neither did Azcheron.
“Do you always sit in dark corners in inns ? And what's up with the thug-like behaviour ?” Erin inquired as she sat and poured herself some wine.
“Hm. 'Tis an experiment. I wanted to know how those rogue heroes and mysterious-looking wanderers felt when they scrutinized people in a tavern.”
“I see. Conclusion ?”
“A fruitless endeavour. There's no one to scrutinize at this hour except for the tenants and the occasional slob who overslept.”
She let out a small laugh, and Azcheron looked her straight in the eyes. His fake 'watchful loner' expression was gone and replaced by a genuinely sharp and observing one.
“Though you were worthy of my scrutinizing," he kept on. “You somehow look slightly sad. Did something happen with the mercenaries ? How did your resignation go by the way ?”
“It's nothing. I had to explain myself about... stuff. It went well overall, I'm now officially jobless !” she said with a smirk.
“Good to hear.” He paused and took a bite from a piece of bread. “So, I got hired by a caravan for the trip to the capital.”
Erin raised an eyebrow. “Already ? You don't lose any time, eh.”
“Of course. We're leaving the day after tomorrow. What about you ? Do you know what you're going to do now ?”
As she hesitantly opened her mouth and kept silent, thinking about her answer, Azcheron carried on. “Want to come with me ?”
I'd like to. But I don't know if I should. Erin replied in her mind.
“I... need to think about it," she said in a half-hearted voice.
“Well, look. Obviously you have reasons to hesitate, and I won't ask if you don't want me to. I figured you have your own circumstances and it has something to do with the capital.”
She nodded.
“I don't know much about the ways of the Empire or its capital. But if you're in some kind of trouble, you know I can take care of that. I don't really have any connection to rely on, but that's the point. I'm an outsider so I don't have to care about the consequences were I to use force.”
“Thanks, but it's not that kind of trouble. Nor is it something that I can't take care of. It's more of a hassle than anything. And even so, I would not want to drag you into some mess and cause you trouble.” She shook her head but felt honestly thankful toward him.
Why would you go that far for someone you met a week ago ? She could not guess any ill intents. He was so quirky and whimsical that she wasn't even that wary of him anymore.
“I'm pleased to know that. I actually didn't intend to use violence or do anything too barbarian in the capital, unless it is really necessary. I have one last argument then. I'm only planning to spend the winter there. After that I was thinking about going west or north. In the meantime, I'll check out the Academy, maybe get introduced to some important people. Who knows what kind of enemy I'll make there ! It wouldn't do if I were to be bullied or assassinated by a noble I unknowingly angered.”
Here it is, that scheming smile. Though I don't know if I'm the one targeted by his shenanigans or if it's the nobility...
Although Erin didn't know much about Azcheron apart from the fact that he was an insanely skilled mage and the head of a foreign clan, she quickly understood one important thing about him.
When he's not thinking about wizards, dragons or whatnot, he's definitely up to some mischief.
Not that she wasn't amused by that, on the contrary.
“I can guess where you're going with this.”
He nodded. “So, I have a proposition. I know you just quit your mercenary job, but I'd like to hire you. You shall protect me from the many dangers of the capital ! You'll get to visit the academy too since I decided to use their library. We'll probably spend quite some time there. I don't know what sort of scary mages we'll meet but surely they won't tolerate a commoner like me.”
You don't sound remotely credible. Not the slightest.
“If anything I think they should hire me to protect the capital from the many dangers of you.”
“Regard it as a favour you owe me for me saving your life, if you have to.”
They kept silent for a while. Erin casted her unfocused sight into her empty mug.
They both knew that the favour thing was a pretext and that he didn't mean it. He probably didn't care about it. But a debt was a debt. Erin could work with that. She could convince herself that way. That the debt was more important than her own personal issues.
And after some time, she made her decision.
Erin would go to the capital with Azcheron.