Marcus’s eyes did not leave the Troll’s lifeless body, the look of panic, of confusion on his face staring into the young man’s own even in death. His hands were still warm from the blood of the Troll, which had trickled down the spear and onto his hands when he fell upon the weapon’s tip.
Marcus’s hands began to raise, a morbid curiosity compelling him to look at his palms and see how covered they were. A curiosity that he quickly smothered as he forced his hands back down, feeling his stomach gradually begin to twist as the shock of his actions started to fade. Still, he could not look away from the Troll, away from the tears that pooled at the creature’s eyes.
His stomach clenched, and Marcus looked down before emptying it onto the forest floor.
Tears of his own filled the corners of his eyes as his heaves became dry, and as revolting as the sight of his vomit was, he found himself too scared to look back up and trembled.
“What… what did I…” he said in a tremulous voice.
A hand pressed against his back. It was small, but there was an inherent gentleness to the touch that caused his tremors to slow. He looked to his side, seeing Jahora at his side, the small woman giving him a sad, gentle smile.
“Take this,” she said as she handed him a handkerchief.
Marcus took it and wiped his mouth, an absentminded motion that stopped once he noticed the cloth was also covered in the Troll’s dark red blood. The trembling started again, but Jahora clasped a hand over his own when she noticed them. Her hand was so small, barely half the size of his, but it felt all encompassing. The Mage placed her other hand on his chin and turned his face to hers. Her purple eyes remained clear as the forest began to darken, the orb of light towards the canopy fading until only traces of moonlight remained.
“Close your eyes…” Jahora said as she placed her hand at the back of his head.
He obeyed, and she pressed her forehead against his. When she did, he felt a steady hum gather around him, followed by a coolness that traveled from his forehead to his toes. His breathing slowed, and while that sorrow, that guilt of his still sat at his chest, its presence was muted.
When he opened his eyes, tears no longer blurred his vision, and there was a degree of clarity to his mind that allowed him to focus. His hands, along with the handkerchief, were now clean, but a phantom of the sickly warmth from before remained. Even so, he could not deny the relief he felt.
“Thank you,” he said to Jahora, his voice steadier.
She gave him a slight smile, unable to hide the worry and sadness in her eyes.
The draw of a bowstring interrupted his respite.
“The hells was that?” Leaf growled, his arrow aimed directly at Majorie.
The Hawk appeared to be unfazed by the threat, keeping her hand resting on her sword, but not drawing it. Her spellcasting companion, however, was more alert, having gathered a bluish Aether into the rings and bracelets that adorned his hands. Holden was also ready, having drawn his mace and shield, a steady glow of yellow energy flowing into his weapon. Jahora stood up and started to gather Aether as well, but she faltered as the energy started to gather around her, causing her rings to flicker before fading. The Mage fell to one knee, her breaths heavy, and her state caused another pang of guilt to dig into Marcus’s chest.
Elly stood in front of both of them, the rings around her wrist and ankle remaining steady in their glow. She said nothing and her hands hung at her sides as if she was in casual conversation, but he could feel an intangible aura around her as she stared at Majorie and the others, building, just ready to snap. Silence lingered between everyone, deafening in its ever growing presence.
It was broken when Helbram walked into the clearing.
The remains of his shield hung from his hand, and despite the blow that he took he walked with a steady stride. His expression remained unreadable from behind his helmet’s visor, and he ignored the festering conflict around him as he made his way to the Troll. The act sliced through the growing tension, and all lowered their guards as they looked at the man in confusion. He stood in front of the Troll, silent, but attention directed at the spear that jut from his chest.
Elly walked to him, reaching a hand towards him as she approached, but she paused as Helbram dropped the scraps of his shield. He reached towards the Troll’s eyes and closed them, hand resting on the fallen’s eyelids for a moment. After a moment, he grabbed the spear, pulling it free. He did the same for the daggers embedded into the Troll’s wrists, moving in a stiff, mechanical fashion. As he pulled the weapons free he wiped them clean with a cloth, stopping only to linger on the spear, which had the Troll’s blood running down its entire length.
Saying nothing, Elly walked up and curled her hands, producing small orbs of blue and green light in her palms. She grasped the spear, unleashing the energy into its haft. Blood scattered from the spear and onto the grass as wind billowed it from the weapon, leaving it clean. Helbram nodded at Elly, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, her smile at her companion full of a sad pity.
Holden eyed the Troll, then dropped the aura from his mace and walked towards the Troll.
Leaf raised his bow again, “You’d best hold there,” he said, a low growl to his voice.
Holden raised his hands, “Are you sure that is a good idea?”
The plate adorned man motioned back to Geren, who was ready with another spell, the three rings of Aether orbiting around him all the more prominent in the darkness.
Leaf paused, looking towards both Jahora and Marcus. His eyes were still alight with anger, but there was an uncertainty that narrowed his brow when his eyes fell upon their tired state. He looked to Helbram, who was now staring at Holden, his posture stiff. After a moment, Helbram met eyes with both Elly and Leaf. They said nothing, but nodded at each other. Leaf lowered his bow.
“Smart,” Holden said, a slight smirk crooking his thin lips. He started to walk towards the Troll again, switching his mace for a dagger that hung from his waist, “You have no idea how priceless a Troll’s heart is, it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”
Leaf clenched his jaw, but ignored Holden and made his way to Jahora, helping her up. He held a hand out to Marcus next, who took it with a grateful expression. The archer pulled Marcus close as he stood up.
“Prepare to run,” he whispered.
Marcus first felt confusion, but when he looked back towards the Troll he saw Helbram standing, spear in his hand. He was in no stance, but Marcus’s breath could not help but catch the longer that he looked at the man.
He’d heard many tales in the tavern, stories of men and women who could exhibit such bloodlust that it smothered all senses, exuding a pressure so intense that it could bring one to their knees without them raising a finger.
This was the opposite.
It was not pressure, but rather the complete absence of anything around Helbram that Marcus could feel. Nothing pressed down upon him, but still he found it difficult to breathe, to move for fear of disturbing the utter stillness that grew around the warrior. A small, primal part of Marcus’s mind trembled at the sensation, a spark of panic that anchored him in place as unease started to gnaw at his psyche.
He looked away, choosing to focus on Elly, whose expression was much more readable compared to her companions. Her eyes were narrowed, and while her hands were not raised the Aetheric Ring around her wrist still hummed with a steady light.
Holden appeared to be unperturbed as he approached the Troll, ignoring the two as he approached its large body, dagger at the ready.
“A shame we couldn’t kill the beast ourselves, but if we just ta-”
Helbram raised the spear, the speed of the action giving the approaching man pause. There was a brief moment of shock that flashed around Holden’s face, but that was smothered by a smirk that failed to hide the slight twitch to his eyebrow.
“Really?” he said in a dry tone, “Don’t be a fool, do you honestly believe you can-”
Helbram struck the man in the jaw, his movement a near blur as he closed in on Holden. The moment that the blow landed, Geren unleashed a bolt of Aether at Helbram, which was deflected as Elly flicked her hand, producing a barrier that knocked the bolt to the side. She gathered more Aether in her hand and stepped between the orc mage and the two men.
Holden had no time to recover, for as he staggered back from the blow Helbram continued his assault, striking the man in the face multiple times until he stumbled back, falling to the ground.
Leaf turned and shoved Marcus back, shooting him a glare that he knew was telling him to run. Jahora pulled his hand at the same time, dragging the younger man to the edges of the clearing as Geren slammed his hands into the ground, sending a wave of spikes that surged towards Helbram. Yellow Aether pulsed through Elly’s legs as she slammed her foot into the forest floor, sending a pulse of the energy through the earth to meet the wave. As the two spells collided, the wave of spikes faltered, breaking apart until nothing remained aside from a pile of dirt.
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Holden scrambled back, trying to get to his feet, but Helbram pursued, continuing to loom over the man. A yellow aura started to form around Holden, but it faltered as Helbram snapped the back of the spear forward, striking his downed opponent across the jaw once again. The warrior flicked his weapon, knocking the dagger out of Holden’s hand before stomping on his wrist. Holden made for his weapon with his other hand, but Helbram stopped his movements by pressing the tip of the spear against his neck.
Marcus managed to make it to the trees, but he could not take his eyes away from the fight. A glyph formed in Geren’s hands, formed from a purple light. As he unleashed it, threads of purple light spooled from his fingers and towards Elly, Leaf and Helbram. Leaf loosed an arrow at the mage, forcing him to deflect it with a barrier of his own that caused the threads to falter. Geren growled and retreated to cover, channeling red Aether to the glyph formed at his palm, a ball of fire flaring in his hands before condensing into a bead.
Elly cursed and ran towards Geren, yellow Aether gathering at her feet. When she positioned herself between the opposing mage and the others she stomped on the ground again, producing a pillar of earth in front of her. She swiped her hands across it, covering the raised ground in blue light as the opposing spellcaster unleashed his spell. The bead flew forward, striking the makeshift barrier before bursting, unleashing a blast of flame that shattered the pillar. Elly slid back from the explosion, her hands held up as she had projected another shield in front of her, but the rings around her hand and ankle flickered before she fell to a knee, but was otherwise unharmed.
Helbram appeared to be oblivious to the conflict that was so close by and remained fixed on Holden. His fallen opponent tried to gather the yellow aura again, but Helbram pressed the spear further against his neck, causing the aura to falter. Helbram pressed his foot against the man’s wrist and pushed his arm further away from his side. The fallen man’s face was bloodied, and he looked up at Helbram with a half snarl formed from anger and fear.
“Come on, let’s go,” Jahora said softly as she tugged at Marcus’s sleeve.
Marcus shook himself away from the fight and nodded at the small woman. He turned to leave, only to feel the tip of a blade pressing against his neck.
Marjorie stood in front of him, face impassive as her sword hummed with a red aura, casting a glow over her face that made Marcus tremble. Rings of Aether flared around Jahora for a moment as she attempted a spell, but they flickered out once again as Majorie regarded her with the same expressionless stare.
“You may wish to stop,” she said, her voice loud, but steady.
The Hawk pressed the sword against Marcus’s neck further, forcing him back. She motioned towards the clearing with her head and he stepped back into the open space. He turned back towards Helbram as she spun him around, her grip firm against his shoulder as he felt the hum of the red aura that radiated from her body. Jahora walked next to them, her eyes downcast and her fists clenched. Leaf kept his bow fixed on Geren, sharing a brief nod with Helbram as he kept his eyes on the Mage.
Helbram looked up from Holden, keeping his spear against the man’s neck. The stillness around him remained, his eyes hidden behind his visor. Marcus could only tremble at the sight, not sure what the man was going to do as he looked at them.
“Let my companion go, and I’ll let the boy go,” Marjorie said, her voice unfazed.
Helbram did not move.
“Did you not hear me?” she said, “I sai-”
“I know full well what you said,” Helbram interrupted, keeping his spear in place, “If I let him go, you must leave this place.”
“I don’t think you are in the position to make demands,” Marjorie said as she pressed the sword further against Marcus’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood from his skin.
“And you are?” Helbram countered, “or are you saying that you hold no value in your companions life?”
Holden looked at them, his eyes still flared in anger, but there was a tremble to his lips as he stared past Marcus and to his captor.
What felt like an eternity passed before Marjorie spoke.
“We shall release them at the same time,” she said.
“And you will leave.”
The sword against Marcus’s neck trembled as the Hawk clenched her sword, “Your Mages and your Awoken are spent, what’s to stop us from getting you out of our way right now?”
Helbram regarded them for a moment, “Because, despite your advantage, your certainty of victory, there is another guarantee that is sitting at the back of your mind.”
His spear shook, betraying the brief tremble of anger that escaped from his calm visage.
“One of you will die.”
Marjorie said nothing in response, but her grip on Marcus relaxed after a moment.
“Fine,” she said, her voice cold.
The blade left Marcus’s neck at the same time that Helbram lifted his spear from Holden’s. The man scrambled back from Helbram, holding both his nose and neck as fell back towards Marjorie. Marcus was pushed forward at the same time and the younger man jogged forward, not stopping until he was at Helbram’s side. Jahora followed him while Leaf and Elly joined them, the archer keeping his aim fixed upon the Mage in the trees, who had another spell forming in his hands.
“Geren, we’re leaving!” Marjorie called out. She sheathed her sword and walked back towards the trees. She spared no attention to the wounded Holden, who still glared back at Helbram as he clutched his nose.
“This isn’t over,” he growled before disappearing into the trees.
The spell in Geren’s hands dissipated and he stared at the group from cover, his eyes narrowed and lingering on Elly for a moment before he faded into the trees.
Helbram and the others remained still, he and Leaf kept their weapons raised and faced where Marjorie and her group had left, lowering them only after a good while had passed.
“Keep an eye out,” Helbram said to Leaf in a muted tone.
The archer nodded and started to scan the trees.
Helbram knelt down to Jahora, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she said, “spent for the day, but alive,” her eyes flickered with guilt, “My apologies, I couldn’t do anything when she was upon us.”
Helbram shook his head, “You’ve done more than enough, they caught us when we were weakened.”
“I was the one who was caught,” Marcus said. He felt a heat to his voice as the fear of the situation died down, only to be replaced by an anger he could only direct to himself, “I should have fought, but I just froze at the sight of her.”
“Against an Awoken, that was most likely a blessing,” Helbram said. The stillness around him was gone, the familiar calmness to his voice returned. He placed a hand on Marcus’s shoulder, “Despite the outcome, I thank you for your help earlier.”
He felt some comfort at the man’s words, but when he looked back towards the Troll it turned hollow.
“You two rest up,” Helbram said to Elly and Jahora.
He placed his spear down and made his way to the Troll. He stood in front of the corpse, and, after a moment, grabbed one of the Troll’s hands and began to lift. Marcus saw what he was doing and rushed to Helbram’s side, helping the man lift the Troll’s hands and place them crossed on its chest, covering the wound caused by the spear. With its eyes closed, the Troll looked to be sleeping.
Helbram removed his helmet and ran a hand through his sweat matted hair. Even with his eyes now visible, Marcus found it difficult to tell what the man was feeling. His features were calm, but the way that he stared at the Troll’s face, unmoving, told Marcus that he was feeling something else, but he was not sure what.
Helbram closed his eyes and placed a fist to his forehead, the common gesture of prayer. Marcus moved to follow suit, but faltered.
The warrior’s eyes opened and he noticed Marcus’s indecision, “You think you do not deserve to honor him, given that you killed him,” he stated.
Marcus nodded, “It was done in a panic, he didn’t even know what was happening…”
“All the more reason that you should,” Helbram said, “his soul will return to the earth eventually, but is it not your duty to ensure that his passage is as clear as possible?”
He placed a hand against the Troll’s forehead, “I am sorry, I wish that your next life grants you greater fortune than this one.”
A pang of sadness broke through Helbram’s stoic expression, emphasized by the glow of the moonlight around him. Marcus turned away from him, not wanting to disturb the man’s thoughts, but the sight gave him the resolution to say a prayer of his own.
“May you find comfort in Melissandra’s embrace… and I am sorry I was not stronger to help you,” his eyes grew wet, but he wiped them before the tears fell.
Helbram patted his back, “Nicely done,” he said with a smile, one that faded quickly, “but we should leave. His parents are most likely searching for him.”
Marcus looked at him in confusion.
“He was just an adolescent,” Helbram’s expression grew grim, “I am afraid our troubles have just begun.”
___
They walked back to town in silence, melancholy and dread hanging over them like a shroud. Helbram tried to ignore the thoughts that brewed in his head and the images of the Troll’s panicked, confused expression as it died. Southsheer was silent when they returned, with even the Maiden’s Kiss showing the barest signs of activity as they passed by it on their way to Cliffside. They made their way to the Salty Breeze, and Helbram was surprised to find the tavern’s light was on. He allowed Marcus into the building first, who was promptly embraced by Mary as she rushed from the counter to meet him.
“Thank the Gods…” she said with a sigh.
Marcus returned the hug, trembling slightly as he held his sister. Her relief was replaced by worry as he did so.
“What happened?” she asked, looking over her brother quickly.
Marcus wiped his eyes, “I’m just… tired Mary. I need some rest.”
Mary’s brow furrowed, “Fine, but you will tell me what happened tomorrow,” she regarded Helbram and his group, “All of you, please.”
They all nodded in agreement.
Marcus made his way into the tavern and paused, seeing Sophia at the counter. The Maiden looked at her childhood friend with a sad smile, and like his sister, greeted him with a hug, though hers was of a gentler sort. The young man did not tremble this time, but Helbram noted that he held her close to him and gripped tightly.
“I’m glad you’re safe Marcus,” she said in a soothing tone, “we can talk about what happened later. For now, get some rest.”
The young man nodded and made his way upstairs. Helbram’s companions followed suit, and he moved to the stairs as well, but stopped as a voice called out to him.
“Helbram,” Sophia said, her tone gentle.
He looked back to the Maiden, who stared at him with steel in her eyes.
“I must speak with you.”