Legosia practiced with the blade every day, until it too became a new limb for him. It carried him to many more victories in the future, leading Legosia and his family to great honour.

-From the 3rd Chapter of “The Remont of Elneshe”

Galeon shot up in his bed in the middle of the day. He could hear people frantically running back and forth outside of his room, and quickly clothed himself. Hallowmancers like him were allotted special rooms to themselves, which lend itself well to privacy.

Galeon burst out of the rooms to find soldiers marching down the camp tents towards the edge. The Commanders with their fields open signalled they were preparing for a fight, but they still didn’t issue him any orders.

Maybe they’d forgotten? It was possible with the disorganization they faced. Still, Galeon touched his hands and feet, placing his jets there. He took off in a low flight, moving to join the rest of the Afterburners. They were congregating near the front of the army, floating in the air and bickering among themselves.

Galeon, come down, a single voice said to him, and he sighed. Galeon obeyed, because he couldn’t go against an order issued by a Duke. He landed in the middle of the snowy field, his jets melting some of the snow. Behind him, Duke Lambre approached, looking sullen.

“What do you think you were doing?” Lambre asked him.

“Joining the rest of my squadron, my Lord,” Galeon responded.

“Stop with the Lord business, Galeon. Tell me the real reason,” Duke Lambre snapped at him.

“It’s a battle. I should… be out there doing something, shouldn’t I?” Galeon asked. He was lost, and hoped the Duke could provide an answer for him.

“Not in your state, you’re not. You’ll be nothing more than a liability, Galeon. I can’t have you out there,” Duke Lambre told him. He looked as tired as Galeon felt, maybe even more so given his age.

“Sir, I need to be out there,” Galeon pleaded. “If I’m not, who knows how many more lives will be lost?”

“Even if you go, Galeon, what will you do? Weren’t you against killing? Do you think you can change how you think that quickly?” Duke Lambre asked him. the noble crossed his arms, standing firm in his stance.

“…Maybe I could. It’s the only way to prevent what happened before,” Galeon told him.

“Then you won’t really be saving lost lives, would you, Galeon? You’d need to kill a Ravenishtani to save one of ours. Maybe even more than one. You could end up killing an entire squadron of them just to save a single soldier,” Duke Lambre told him. He moved up close to the young Afterburner, staring into his eyes.

“Do you think you could bear that, Galeon?”

Galeon’s heart hammered in his chest. Memories flooded through, and his hands shook. Not quick enough to save that Planar. Not quick enough to save Emile or Isil. He tried to regain his composure, but the hammering wouldn’t stop. He knew he’d already lost.

“….No, I couldn’t.”

Duke Lambre looked down at Galeon’s shaking arms, which the Afterburner tried to hide behind himself.

“What you’re experiencing now, Galeon, it’s normal for soldiers. Don’t think it a fault of your mind. You’ve suffered a wound our powers can’t heal. Take some time to rest up, spend it with the people you love. Then, when you think you’re ready, come back to me.”

Duke Lambre patted him one last time on the back, moving past Galeon towards the army. He stood there waiting for them to leave, watching portals open and people step through. When the last of the soldiers finally crossed, and the portal winked out, Galeon let out a breath he’d been unknowingly holding.

He felt immediately ashamed of himself. What were Duke Lambre’s words even worth? He should rush over to the battlefield himself right that instant. Galeon raised a hand towards other palm, but stopped right above it. Some invisible force prevented him from carrying on with placing the jet.

This wasn’t so hard before. Why won’t you move! He cursed his own limbs, finally giving up and dropping them to his sides. Slumping his shoulders, Galeon started to walk back to his room. He wound around the streets and alleys, ashamed to even show his face.

If someone like him was staying back, what could be said of the unhallowed? Galeon wandered through the streets, with only automatons to give him company. A few cloaked figures passed, but they moved quickly, and disappeared before Galeon could even take a look at them.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

It had never been as hard for Galeon to find company, yet here he was. All by himself, the downcast Afterburner.

****

Leane pulled her coat around herself as she stepped on snow. She remembered the feeling of it, the crunch of ice beneath her was as familiar to her as breathing. She’d had to fight off a fair few servants and nobles before being allowed to roam by herself, and that only with a limited time.

She was supposed to have reported in to Noviselle, but the Countess seemed busy as she was. Instead, Leane wound her way through the camp. There were many more automatons out than normal, which led Leane to adjusting her path. Her curiosity led her once more to the Necromancer, Argen, who sat upon a log, rubbing her forehead.

“Aren’t you working a bit much?” Leane asked her.

“Aren’t you snooping a bit much?” Argen fired back. Leane smiled at the woman, whose face only had a single expression: glaring annoyance.

Leane moved towards her, winding around the inactive automatons she surrounded herself with. The humanoid looking robots were simplistic in shape, only having joints in certain spots for movement.

“You can control so many of them, why not create somewhere comfortable to live?” Leane asked her.

“I’ve better things to worry about than my own comfort,” Argen grunted. She drank more bewl from a crystal, then brought to life another automaton with a whispered command. The small metallic creature walked away slowly, set to a task ingrained in its mind.

Leane gave it way to leave, then looked back at the Necromancer.

“They don’t let you fight?” Leane asked. Argen shook her head.

“I’m too valuable, is what they say. We’re all tools of the Gods, even if I’m not a particularly favoured one. Better to spend my talents in building the camps,” Argen told her, looking at her hands. It was a dispassionate look, one of resignation.

“You shouldn’t stay by yourself for so long. Why not come out?” Leane asked.

“Other people don’t see it that way. A foreigner like you wouldn’t understand. Even your Afterburner friend wouldn’t, no matter how much he touts the opposite,” Argen said. A wind blew past them, ruffling the tent flaps.

“You should leave, Leane. The nobles will be wondering where you are,” Argen said, turning away.

Leane would’ve talked further, but Argen was correct. She had work to do with some of the Counts, and delaying wouldn’t help either of them. She left the little alley that Argen had secluded herself in, walking past automatons and continuing on her trek.

She did so until she found someone special. Sitting by himself, snow gathering on his head, was Galeon.

She flinched back a little, only to then realize that he wasn’t moving. Concern grew in Leane’s heart, when he wouldn’t raise his head. A visible breath out of his mouth was the only indication he was even still alive.

“Galeon?” Leane asked, brushing the snowfall out of his hair. He glanced up at hair and assumed a smile, though she found it shaky.

“Leane? Are you out all by yourself?” He asked her. Quick, an excuse!

“Ah, yeah. I was just about to see Novi. What about you? Shouldn’t you have been…” she waved towards the edge of the camp, and Galeon’s smile dropped. He looked away from Leane, as if embarrassed by something.

“I was told to stay back.”

Leane hoped for an elaboration, but Galeon sat silent. It was unnatural, made her uncomfortable to see him so meek. And it didn’t look as if he’d been eating right, either. The sunken eyes and cheeks that Leane only then noticed confirmed this.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Leane asked him. That seemed to get his attention, as Galeon perked up.

“Yeah, I-“ but the growl of his stomach betrayed him. He clutched it and sighed.

“I’ll eat soon.”

“How about a pie? A cherry pie!” Leane tried to entice him. Galeon chuckled soflty.

“Lakon’s probably hired a hundred Commanders to make sure I don’t get anywhere near his tarts,” Galeon said.

“Even if he has, he wouldn’t have told them to look out for me, would he?”

Galeon smiled at Leane, and an hour later the both of them were sitting inside of a warm tent. The kitchen had been open at that time, and Lakon had been kind enough to grant them a table. The burly and scarred chef brought out a pie so delicately it glistened in the light of the bewllan.

“There you have it, last tart of the morning. You’re lucky the others left in such a huff, or you wouldn’t even be getting crumbs,” Lakon told Leane.

“Thank you, Lakon. Your tarts are the best in the camp!” Leane complimented. Galeon chuckled, noticing the chef’s face turn red.

“Well, you and the boy enjoy it…” he muttered under his breath. He only nodded towards Galeon, before ducking out of the mess hall.

The pie steamed in front of Galeon, and he raised a hand to take a small piece. It was warm in his hands, so sweet smelling it eased his aching mind. Leane watched with elbows resting on the table as Galeon raised the tart to his mouth.

He took a bite and let out a yelp. It wasn’t as though he’d forgotten the taste. It was just that remembering what it felt like, refreshing that memory in his brain, helped him release thoughts from his mind. If only for a moment, they receded, and Galeon let himself experience bliss.

He finished the first piece before he even knew it, and just as quickly the rest of the pie. Leane helped, but she kept her attention elsewhere, glancing around the hall every so often.

By the time he was done, his thoughts returned to the forefront of his mind. But they were tempered, lessened from the time he’d spent elsewhere. He smiled towards Leane, hoping that this time it felt more genuine.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll always have your behind,” Leane assured him. Galeon chuckled inadvertently.

“What? Isn’t that the right phrase?” Leane asked.

“You’re supposed to say ‘back’. Friends don’t usually come so close to each other’s hips,” Galeon replied. Leane reddened a bit, and the both of them laughed it off.

Their banter continued until they heard a voice outside. The flap of the tent parted, and Count Alusses walked inside. The portly noble looked at them with hard eyes, before shrugging.

“Leane, is this where you were?” he asked her.

“Count Alusses, I’ve been meaning to talk to you!” Leane said, standing up from her seat. She moved over to the count and erupted into a conversation. Talking of the notes they’d found, and other things that Galeon had already been briefed upon. It only brought upon bad memories to ponder on it now.

Galeon didn’t want to interrupt them, so he snuck out while they were engaged with each other. Leane shot him one last smile, which he returned gratefully.