“They did not even leave a trace, did they?” Helbram asked as he leaned back in his chair. He swirled the little that remained of his tea in his cup, catching a slight citrus scent to its earthy tones.

Darin shook his head, “I’m afraid not. They must have skipped town while everyone was in the middle of recovering, but no one knows when they left,” the guard was not in his armor this morning, his kindly, portly appearance betraying little in the way of the discipline his position would suggest.

“I see… then there is little we can do,” Helbram sipped his tea.

“Short of hunting the bastards down ourselves,” Leaf said in a bitter tone, followed by a sigh, “But that’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Indeed,” Elly chimed in, she took the teapot at the center of the table and refilled her cup, “while bringing them to justice sounds well and good, there wouldn’t be much driving us beyond simple vendetta,” with her other hand she added a spoonful of sugar to her brew and stirred. She let go after a few turns of her wrist, allowing the spoon to carry on the action on its own. A minor display of magic, but one that was enough to distract Helbram momentarily. Elly tilted the teapot his way and raised her eyebrows, smiling as he held out his cup to refill it.

“Well she and her companions will not be traveling with the same graces they held before,” August said though half a mouthful of bread. He held his hand up as he took a swig of water from his mug, “Though I don’t know how well people will believe that the Hawk of Dunwich is a thief.” the adventurer was also not in his armor this day, sitting with them in a simple cloth tunic and pants.

“Even if they did believe, I can’t imagine them staying in the Freemarks for long after all they did,” Jahora pointed out and she nibbled on a scone, “They’re most likely making their way to the Six Kingdoms as we speak. One’s reputation in the Freemarks would matter little to the people of those nations.”

Leaf scoffed, “At least they’re out of our hair. I think I’ve had my fill of folk heroes for quite some time,” he reached for the last sausage that was on the platter at the center of the table. His fork crossed with Jahora’s, and the two shared a glare with one another before starting their own fencing match.

August smirked and shook his head, “Try not to be sated for too long my friend. Word is already starting to spread about the lot of you.”

His words gave Leaf pause, giving Jahora the win in their little duel. The victor savored her bounty with a coy smile, bringing a frown to Leaf’s lips.

“How so?” the disgruntled archer asked, “Plenty of others did their part as well.”

“Yes, well those people did not charge headfirst into a couple of Trolls, dagger in their hands of all things,” Darin pointed out, “Nor did they channel magicks so powerful that they wiped the horde beasts at the town’s gate.”

“That was hardly by my own efforts alone,” Jahora hastily said, “the other Mages there merely lent me their strength.”

“While your humility is admirable, all admit that the tide only started to turn when you two showed up to aid us,” August crossed his arms, “out here in the Freemarks rumor is not so easily controlled I’m afraid, and many who have left town have no doubt carried your story with them.”

The Mage closed her eyes and sighed.

Helbram chuckled, “Fame is not such a bad thing, as long as you do not let it get to your head.”

“They are not the only ones being told, you know,” August said, “Sophia has wasted no time telling the townsfolk of Elly’s daring rescue.”

The Weaver sighed, but didn’t say much else.

“And, of course, we can’t ignore the tale that is on everyone’s lips,” Darin looked to Helbram.

His shoulders dropped, “Good and bad I suppose.”

“Depends on who you talk to,” August explained, “some say you saved them from the Sword’s control, others still say you denied them salvation. No one has a definitive opinion, of course, for the subject of such talk has hidden himself away since the Trolls were buried.”

“And he can stay as long as he’d like,” Mary said as she approached the table, “all of you,” she said as she looked to Elly and the others. The tavernkeep placed another platter of eggs, sausage, and bread at the center of the table, which Leaf and Jahora set to with gusto.

Unable to resist the savory smells, Helbram loaded his plate with food and gave Mary a smile, “Thank you, but I believe we have imposed upon you for far too long.”

Mary scoffed, “Think nothing of it. The tavern’s not been this lively in quite some time.”

“It is a pity,” Darin said, “here I was going to invite you to the town guard.”

Helbram snorted, “I am afraid I must decline. I am far too restless for such a position. My companions, however, are free to join you if they wish to.”

“There is a reason that we travel together, you know,” Jahora said, “And it is certainly not the comfortable lifestyle.”

Leaf and Jahora nodded.

Darin laughed, “You can’t fault a man for trying.”

“I’d ask you all to join me,” August said with a smile, “but I believe we’re heading in opposite directions.”

Elly nodded, “Whitebridge calls, and I fear that our usual methods of travel would only serve to bore you and your men.”

“Or overly excite you,” Leaf said, “We’ve been on a streak of some nonsense since we’ve met,” he motioned to Helbram and the others.

“Don’t say anymore,” Jahora said, “I swear the more you mention it the more likely it is to occur.”

“Well, then I say we’re likely to get showered in marks any day now,” Leaf said with a satisfied smirk.

The Mage rolled her eyes.

“Anyways,” Helbram said, “I would say that we have about a week left in our time here. That is when the smith said she would have our equipment repaired, amidst all the other tasks she’s had to handle since the battle” he looked to Darin, “So if you have any requests of me feel free to ask.”

The guard waved his hand flippantly, “Pay us no mind. Like Mary said, you are welcome to our hospitality.”

Helbram smiled. His eyes met briefly with all of his companions, sharing in the silent agreement that they would leave a coin purse on Mary’s counter by the time they left.

Conversation turned to small talk as the meal went on, with Darin and August eventually saying their farewells as all bellies grew full. Leaf had leaned his seat against the wall and sat back, hands resting on his stomach as he hummed a tune to himself. Jahora helped Mary with the dishes despite the tavernkeep’s objections, making light work of the task as she levitated far more plates that the tavernkeep could carry in front of her. Elly sipped at her tea absentmindedly as she scanned the papers in front of her. The curved runes of the Shrine lay across them, charcoal rubs of the building’s engravings that the Weaver had taken the moment she had time to herself. In her other hand was her notebook, something that the scholar frequently referenced and scribbled upon as she studied the runes, lips moving in silent inference as she was lost in her thoughts.

It was only when she took another sip of her tea that Helbram asked a question.

“Is there anything you recognize about them?”

Elly tapped her chin, but then shook her head, “Sadly, no. Ruhian and Saputan script could have some slight differences depending on the region they were located, but none of that matches the writing here, nor does it match any modern day script as well.”

“That would suggest that there was another civilization beyond Ruhia and Saputa, would it not?” Jahora suggested.

“It could, or it could just be code developed by a small subsect of either civilization. Even nowadays there are many guilds out there that operate off of some sort of cipher or hidden script.”

“Yet the paintings suggest a civilization of some kind,” Helbram said, “Granted, such a city could easily be the construct of the Ruhia or Saputans as well.”

Elly nodded, “Indeed, and it would not be very scholarly of me to jump to conclusions because of a singular event,” she flipped her notebook around, revealing recreations of the Shrine’s paintings as she turned through her pages, “however, as any scholar would, I made sure to get plenty of notes.”

“I’ll say,” Leaf said as he looked at Elly’s work with admiration, “you’ve gone and went above and beyond.”

“Is being an artist also part of scholarly affairs?” Helbram mused.

Elly snorted and sat back, her head held high with a sense of pride, “That is just a bit of home, nothing compared to the works my aunt has produced.”

“She’s the one who taught you?” Helbram asked.

“Yes, though mostly in my early years,” she smirked, “Master Toulec encouraged me to develop them more after she caught me sketching in one of her books.”

“After more than a few choice words, I imagine.”

The scholar giggled, “All with a smile. At the time I didn’t know if I should have been scared or not.”

“I’d lean more towards the former,” Helbram said, “a smile is warning of a far more severe punishment.”

“Have experience with that, do you?” Leaf asked.

“Just a tad,” Helbram said with a wink before getting up.

“Going to check on the wagon?” the archer asked.

He nodded.

Leaf rocked himself up to his feet and stretched, letting out a satisfied groan, “I’ll join you. I’ve got to feed Bessie anyhow.”

“I could have handled that, you know.”

“True, but you don’t possess my gentle hands,” Leaf fluttered his fingers as he spoke. He clapped Helbram over the shoulder and made his way to the door.

Helbram shook his head and followed after him, covering his eyes slightly as they walked out into the street. As he did so, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He stepped to the side out of instinct, feeling himself tense up, but relaxed when he saw who he almost ran into.

Roger had stumbled to avoid running into Helbram himself, a skittish look on his face.

“Sorry about that,” Helbram said as he brushed by.

“Wait,” Roger said, “I’ve a few words to say.”

Leaf looked at Helbram and quirked an eyebrow. He shrugged and waved his companion away, though his friend did keep an eye on Roger as he turned the corner.

Helbram turned back to the man. He was noticeably less haggard than the last few times he’d seen him, but in the place of his usual lush aura there was an air of nervousness gathered around him. Helbram leaned against the tavern and stayed silent, letting the man gather his thoughts.

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“I… I said a few words to you before everything happened.”

Helbram remained silent.

“I want to say it was the drink talking, want to say that I didn’t mean to speak like that, but that isn’t the truth. Even if it was from fear I meant every word that I said,” he wrung his hands, but looked Helbram in the eye, “And I was wrong. I only felt it right that I tell you that.”

Helbram straightened himself, “I appreciate that, but you were only speaking based on what you knew,” he held his hand out, “so, let us just call it square and start fresh, shall we?”

Roger paused, his hesitancy betraying that he was expecting a different reaction from Helbram. He looked at his eyes and, seemingly satisfied with what he saw, clasped the outreached hand with a firm grip.

Helbram gave a firm shake, “There were are, right as rain,” he let go of Roger’s hand and leaned back against the tavern again, “so when are you heading out?”

“Today, actually,” the man said, “I should have come sooner, but the courage to come here didn’t reveal itself until now.”

Helbram snorted, “That is typically how it goes,” He clasped him on the shoulder, “May the roads be smooth and the wilds peaceful on your journey, Roger.”

“And you as well, Helbram.”

The two parted ways with another shake of their hands, and Roger walked back to the town square, head held a bit higher than before. While he did not hold any grudges against the man, Helbram could not help but feel his chest grow a little lighter as well. With a relaxed sigh, he made his way to the alleyway where their wagon was stowed, bearing witness to Leaf scratching Bessie behind one of her horns. The Auroc let out a low groan under the archer’s ministrations and nuzzled against him as he ran his hand through her fluffy fur.

“There’s a good girl,” Leaf said in a soothing tone, “too gentle to even think of attacking anyone during the battle.”

“Or too sleepy,” Helbram said as he pat the bovine on her back, “we all know nothing gets in the way of Bessie and her naps.”

Leaf chuckled, “Fair fair,” he let go of Bessie and walked to a portioned off section of the alleyway. Crates and barrels lined this area, framing the side door into the Salty Breeze while a pile of smaller hay bales lay at its center. Leaf hefted one onto his shoulder and lay it in front of the Auroc, who lost focus on everything else and started to eat. Helbram gave her one final pat before turning to the carriage, taking stock of their resources.

“This should last us for a while,” he said as he stepped on the depowered wagon, boots clanging against its metallic surface.

“Aye, so long as the hunting is good,” Leaf said, “Elsewise we’re going to be feasting on hardtack when Winter is in full swing.”

“My mouth is salivating at the thought,” Helbram said with a smirk, “But I trust our hunter will keep a keen eye out.”

“So long as you’re carrying,” Leaf said, “Can’t have me doing everything.”

Helbram clicked his teeth, “And here I was thinking I would enjoy a life of luxury instead.”

The two shared a small laugh before their conversation was interrupted by the tavern’s door opening. Marcus emerged, pausing as he met both Helbram’s and Leaf’s eyes. The younger man quickly looked down and walked hurriedly by, keeping silent as he rushed to get away. Leaf frowned and made to follow after him, but stopped as Helbram held a hand up. He motioned to the crates for them to continue their inspection, which his friend reluctantly began to assist with.

“I’m sorry.”

Helbram turned, seeing Marcus standing before them again. The young man had his hands at his sides and stood upright like he was at attention, but there was a remorse to his eyes that burned through even in the shaded alleyway.

Helbram hopped off the wagon and brushed his hands, “What for?”

Marcus’s brow furrowed, “For giving into the Sword, for all the things I said.”

Helbram inspected Bessie’s harness, which lay to the side of the wagon, “You took the Sword to protect Sophia, you had little other choice. As for your words… honestly I did not hear a thing that you said at the time,” he scratched his head.

“But I said them regardless,” Marcus urged, “I spat pure hate at you. I felt… needed to kill you at that moment.”

Helbram placed the harness back onto the ground and turned back to Marcus, “You were granted power beyond your imagining, and in the next instant I took it from you. Anyone would have felt what you did,” he smiled, “Hells, I would have said much worse, done much worse, were I in your position.”

“Don’t tell me falsehoods,” Marcus said while shaking his head, “You’re stronger than me, stronger than I could ever be.”

“Talk like that is only self fulfilling,” Helbram walked closer to Marcus, “the moment that you believe you are incapable of doing something, you have made it impossible for yourself.”

“But it is true, isn’t it?” Marcus said, “I submitted to the Sword out of desperation, bent to its will so easily, took only a sip of its power before I craved it like nothing else before. In mere moments I was so happy to be its puppet, and had you not stepped in the town would have suffered from the same.”

“Aye, but in your case the Sword had the most leverage. The need to save Sophia. Wanting to save someone is not something you should admonish yourself for,” he grabbed Marcus by the shoulders and forced the young man to meet his eyes, “What happened after may not have been what you intended, but that does not mean you should ignore the impulse of what drove you. Learn from it, refine it, and let it become a strength rather than a perceived weakness.”

“Is that what you have done?”

Helbram nodded, “Yes, and am still doing to this day. And make no mistake, the reason I did not submit to the Sword was not because I possess some indomitable mental will, it was because it offered me something I did not want.”

Marcus looked at him with both curiosity and confusion.

Helbram let go of the young man’s shoulders, “I will not bore you with the details, but I can say this if you are ever in a similar position in the future,” he tapped his chest, “above all else, know yourself. Not what you believe others think you to be, what you strive to be, but who you are at your core. Now, such things can change depending on what experiences life decides to give you, but awareness of this will only strengthen your resolution in the end. The more that you know of yourself, the more that you will be able to improve yourself.”

Marcus’s brow furrowed as he looked to the ground, lost in thought.

“It will take some time,” Helbram said, “but for now what is done is done, the best that we can do now is learn from what transpired and ensure that it does not happen again,” he looked towards the alley’s exit, smirking as he saw Sophia peering in from the street. She was dressed in plain clothes compared to her usual clothes when she was the Maiden, but her still silver hair was styled too much for a simple outing. Concern was in her eyes, but vanished as Helbram gave her a wave.

“But I do believe that I have kept you here for too long,” he said as he turned Marcus around, “now go and enjoy time with your lady.”

“M-my lady? I don-”

“Know yourself, Marcus,” Helbram interrupted, “how else are you going to catch up to her?”

The young man looked back to Sophia and, after a brief pause, took in a deep breath and straightened his back. He strode over to her, his steps both powerful and light.

“By the way,” Helbram called out. Marcus looked back at him, “We will be in town for another week. If you wish, we can continue to improve that sword arm of yours.”

The young man flashed a grin at him, “I’d like that very much.”

___

His eyes opened, the tall wooden ceiling of his home a blur as his vision started to correct itself. The sun had yet to rise, but the blue glow of the morning leaked through his window as he shook off the slumber that sat over him. Helbram made little noise as he got up from his bed, having fallen asleep on top of his blanket the night before. He straightened his travel clothes and flattened his sheets before taking one last look around his room. A rack of training swords fashioned from wood, some even from stone stood near his door, a large ruck filled with supplies leaning against it. Many of the swords were damaged in some way, with nicks or chips from haphazard strikes or clumsy blocks decorating their edges. Most of the swords were too small for his use now, but he kept them all, if only to remind him of how far he had come.

At least, how far he thought he had before.

His desk lay not too far from the door as well, lined with various books that his grandfather had given him over the years. He’d already committed most of them to memory, but he stopped himself from taking them on his journey. While he was no scholar, he was not too keen on seeing books damaged, which was all but an inevitability given his intentions. He glanced at various bits and bobs that dotted the room: pieces of old armor that no longer fit him, a set of stone weights that felt weightless to him now, but seemed impossible to lift so many years before. This room was a testament to his development.

And to how useless it all was in the end.

Shaking his head, Helbram grabbed the ruck and slung it over his shoulder. It was heavy, but he bore the weight well as he opened his door and walked out.

Only to stop as he saw his father sitting in the living room.

Brom Alligard was large and imposing even in his seated position. Thick muscle enlarged an already wide frame, and when he stood up, he somehow felt taller even though Helbram was his match in height. His hair, usually cut short, was now long enough to lay over his ears, and his scruff had thickened enough over his jaw and upper lip to form the semblance of a beard. Bits of gray had started to poke through the dark browns of his hair, but beyond the wrinkles that creased in at the edges of his eyes, there was little else that betrayed his age. His unkempt look should have given him a wild appearance, but Helbram could still only see the kind, patient man that had borne the burden of raising him all these years.

Of a man who had been spending the past month in agony from the poison in his veins.

Because of him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked his father, ignoring the man’s stare at his ruck.

“Well enough,” Brom said, his gaze unmoving, “did you think I wouldn’t notice what you’ve been planning?”

Helbram adjusted his pack with his shoulder, “I had hoped you would not. It appears I need to work on my subtlety.”

“You possess that in spades,” his father said with a sigh, “I just know you better than you think.”

Helbram clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, “Then you should know that there is no stopping me.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Then why are you here?” Helbram said, a light crack to his voice, “You should be resting right now.”

“And what, let my son leave without so much as a word?” Brom walked up to Helbram, “While he still thinks he is to blame?”

“How can I not be? It was my weakness that drove you to this state.”

“Helbram, what happened to me was not yo-”

“It was!” Helbram snapped, “If I had not cursed you for giving me hope, wept at my own failures, then you would not have had needed to suffer so. If I was only stronger, you would not have had to do anything at all.”

“Yet the decision to do something was my choice,” Brom grabbed Helbram’s arms, “you cannot take the blame for something someone else decides to do on their own. It was my choice Helbram, and I would make it again and again, without question.”

“Why?” Helbram looked down, feeling his knees grow weak, “Why go to such lengths for someone like me?”

Brom squeezed Helbram’s arms gently, “Because you are my son, because you deserve that much, and more,” his hands started to tremble, “I cannot stop you, and I know going with you is out of the question. You have your mother’s spirit and my bullheadedness,” he laughed, “and that is a combination that I cannot hope to overcome,” he turned Helbram’s head up to meet his eyes, “All I can do is let you know that I believe in you, my son, and that if you ever find yourself in need of a home, the door is always open.”

Helbram closed his eyes, trying to think of what he could say, but words failed him in that moment. All he could do was bring his father into a hug, a gesture that was quickly returned as the two of them held each other tight.

When Brom let go, he walked over to the dining table at the far side of the living room. He grabbed the helmet that was sitting on top of it, a full helm with a visor that would completely cover the face of the one who wore it.

“It took a while to get it resized for you, but luckily the smith finished just in time,” Brom said as he walked back to Helbram. He held out the helmet, “If I can’t go with you, then a part of me will have to suffice.”

Helbram took the helmet, inspecting it absentmindedly. He recognized this piece of armor. It was one that he’d frequently wear as a child, if only in the hopes that it would encourage him to grow to the size needed to wear it. He took the helmet and put it on, feeling it wrap snug around his head, but not too tight. It was everything he hoped it would be.

“I will use it well,” Helbram said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

“Of that I have no doubt,” Brom said, “Also don’t forget to say your farewells to you grandfather. He knows of your plans as well.”

Helbram snorted, “Of course he does. Nothing slips by that man.”

He strapped the helmet to his ruck and walked up to Brom, giving him another hug, “Thank you father, for everything.”

His father patted his back, “You have nothing to thank me for, Helbram. Just stay true to yourself, I know that will guide you well.”

Helbram nodded and made for the door when they let each other go. When he stepped outside the sun was peeking just over the horizon, blurring as he felt his eyes start to wet. Taking in a breath of the crisp, cool air around him, he pressed on. He did not look back at his house, unwilling to show Brom the tears that ran down on his face, but he knew the man would prefer that.

Because his father was doing the same.

___

When Helbram woke, his eyes felt wet, the tears that had fallen from them still fresh on his face. He rubbed his eyes and sat up from his bed with a groan, finding a small measure of relief when he saw that he was alone in the tavern’s room. He laughed to himself and stood up, quickly getting dressed for travel, as his companions were no doubt waiting for him. When he was sorted out, he reached for the helmet that lay on the room’s desk, pausing for a moment as he let the dream play through his head again, a bittersweet smile on his face.

He grabbed the helmet and tapped his forehead against it before tying it to his side.

“Right then, onwards.”

Hedge Knight Arc Three: Sword of Promise

End.