Year 3043 AGD

Month: Ragnós

Firstday

Continent of Terroval

City of Safeharbor

Victor woke up feeling like a box had been dropped on his head from two stories up. He realized that the room he was in was unfamiliar, and it took him a moment to realize that he was in Nim’s room. Nim seemed to be deep in thought as he paced along the window that overlooked the garden. Victor watched his mentor pace, using the techniques he had learned from this very man to judge what he was thinking. He appeared to be mostly worried, but mingled in to this emotion was a look of resolution. Deciding it was probably less rude to let Nim know he was awake, Victor stretched and gave an overemphasized yawn that wanted to work its way out anyway. Nim quickly turned towards Victor.

“You’re awake!” Nim said. “Well, of course you’re awake, that was a stupid thing to say.” Victor knew at this point that Nim really was worried—the man was usually much more in control of his thoughts.

“Yes, and my head hurts, and now that I think about it, everything else hurts too.”

“Well, Father Telenroy said that you had exhausted yourself by performing things that were beyond your capacity to handle...” Nim said with admonishment strong in his voice, before taking on a softer tone. “I, however, am glad you managed to do so long enough for help to come.”

“I’m pretty glad about that myself,” Victor replied. “It was the first thing that came to mind. I knew I wasn’t good enough to beat him yet.” Then he grinned. “Not from lack of skill, just from lack of size. I think I could have whittled away at him slowly, but I didn’t have enough energy left to last long enough to find out.” Frowning, he said, “I don’t think I could have held that shield much longer, though. Two more swings and I doubt we would be having this discussion right now.”

“Well my young friend, you killed one more assassin than Jenn did… and she’s not happy about that fact.”

“How many did you get?” Victor asked dryly.

“Well… counting the one you wounded, six. Now, if you count the one that Bartholomew drubbed into unconsciousness, it will be seven around noon.”

“Bartholomew drubbed someone into unconsciousness?”

“Oh yes, he was once one of the head monks of the Order of the Griffon. They are a migrant order that travels throughout Terroval. The head of the order told him that he should find someplace to serve in a humble capacity in order to learn humility. So, he came to me asking to be my butler. Having fought with him before and knowing he could handle himself in most situations, I accepted his offer. Probably not quite what the grand master had in mind, but he’s humble enough... most of the time.” Nim laughed as he finished his statement, but the laugh sounded forced. Victor knew Nim was avoiding talking about something, but he didn’t know why.

“I guess we aren’t leaving with the army, huh?” Victor asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Most of them left a couple hours ago; we’ll join them at the front as soon as we can,” Nim replied.

“How is everyone else?”

Nim looked out the window again. “Jenn and Lia are fine.”

“But not Megan? They couldn’t cure the poison?”

Nim turned his attention back to Victor. “How did you know?”

“I was awake… no not awake, aware sometime in the night. I heard you and an old man talking. I heard you tell Jenn to go be with Lia after he said Megan probably wasn’t going to make it.” He felt his eyes getting heavier as moisture enveloped them.

Nim came over and sat next to Victor. “They say she probably won’t live past noon. She is with the priests of Valorious, the god of healing and life. If they cannot save her, there is no mortal who can. It’s in the hands of the gods now. I have a feeling she’ll be going to see Thom soon. May he guide her to a better place.”

“We’re going to get them, right? We’re going to make them pay for this. Whoever sent those assassins needs to pay, don’t they?” Victor asked through his tears.

“We’ll make them pay, Victor. I have an acolyte of Thom on his way here who is going to question our guest. He will learn what we need to know. I had to take away every means of suicide that assassin had, and he was carrying more than a few nasty surprises. He won’t get the satisfaction of a quick death. As soon as Megan dies… his life is forfeit.” Nim’s voice was cold.

Victor had pieced together the girls’ stories over the last several months. Nim had taken Lia and Megan from an abusive household four years ago. Things had happened to them that shouldn’t happen to anyone, but especially not to young girls. Nim had shown them that there were good people in the world and that they didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Ashur had made sure the girls were as competent in a fight as any other citizen of Safeharbor, but Nim didn’t want him to go beyond that if the girls didn’t want to, and they had chosen to forgo that training. Now one of them was dead, killed in Nim’s own house. Victor knew that Nim was blaming himself for her death, and a small part of him knew that there was some justification in that blame.

“It’s not your fault, you know. Do you think they would have rather not met you? Do you think they would have rather lived the rest of their lives in that hellhole you took them from? I for one don’t think they would trade a single day of the freedom that you gave them for one more second in that place. You may have not taught them all you could have about fighting and killing, but that’s because you loved them. You didn’t want them to be drawn into a life like that. They aren’t like us. They don’t have our sardonic attitude towards life.” Nim gave him a look of disbelief, and Victor saw the moisture in his eyes. Victor had never imagined Nim crying, and it was a shocking new side of his friend and mentor.

“Don’t look at me like that. I may be young still, but Shaylyn had me out hunting when I was five years old. During that time and my time on the streets, I’ve seen more death than most soldiers have by their mid-twenties. I know what my life is to be. I have no regrets about that. Should I die tomorrow, you should know now that I was ready for it. I may not want to die, but it will happen someday. Megan and Lia had their whole lives ahead of them and you didn’t want to ruin that. I don’t know what Lia will do now that she has lost her twin, but you did what you thought was best at the time. If you regret helping people when they needed it most, you aren’t who I thought you were. Quit blaming yourself. It isn’t your fault, and it isn’t mine. The blame rests at the feet of the men who attacked last night, and whoever hired them. Now, get out of my way,” Victor said as he pushed himself off the bed. “I do know one thing, though, if I were going to die... I’d want my friends there to see me off.”

Nim’s movements were still lethargic, but Victor noticed that his expression had changed. Victor was glad to see the change in his mentor, but whoever had done this would not be glad to see the look. “You know, Ashur was right about you,” Nim said, his actions beginning to pick up as he found a goal to focus his mind on. “You are much sharper than me. I think you might be a little harder around the edges, too. Just make sure you never start to enjoy what we are going to be doing tonight.”

“I probably won’t enjoy it after the fact, but I’m certainly going to enjoy killing the man responsible for ending the life of one of my friends,” Victor said, his voice cold.

Nim slowly nodded his understanding and they clasped arms.

“‘Til the job is done.”

Nim and Victor entered the Church of Valorious an hour later. They had hidden their masks of righteous anger within. They would be brought out again soon, but now was not the time for such things. Now was a time for being strong, for being a friend, and for saying goodbye.

An old man wearing a spotless white cassock met them at the entrance to the great hall. Victor had never been within one of the great churches that lined the Hall of the One God. He had seen them several times from the outside while passing through the center of the city and had imagined what the grand buildings must look like on the inside based on their extravagant exteriors.

For the most part, the exterior of the various cathedrals looked alike. They were all imposing stone structures Shaped out of solid granite. It was no mistake that each church resembled a fortress, as many of the original buildings from the time after the Great Disaster were built for defense as much as they had been for their other purposes. Over time, gargoyles had been added to many of the crenellations, and many of the balistraria had been Shaped out in order to hold stained glass windows. The windows themselves were the largest differences between each of the buildings, with each depicting different moments of import to each faith.

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The other important indicator of which building belonged to what god stood in front of each building in the common area of the Hall of the Gods. Outside of each church stood statue that represented each god, each made of a white marble that had obviously been crafted by a master Shaper. Each god was meticulously depicted, right down to the veins of gold that popped up throughout the bodies. In the very center of it all stood a statue taller than the others. This statue’s features were not meticulously sculpted, and Victor had heard more than a few arguments break out over whether or not it was depicting a male or a female. As they walked into the Church of Valorious, Victor realized that he really didn’t know a lot of the dogma involved that led to the creation of such wonders.

Victor stepped into the cathedral expecting it to be lavishly decorated, from floor to ceiling; instead, he found was a simple interior. The only colors in the room came from the wood that was used to create the furniture, different stones used throughout the building, and the light that shown through the stained-glass windows. He briefly wondered if all of the temples in the square were as humbly decorated, or if it was simply the way of the Church of Valorious.

The man that met them as he and Nim entered the building was nearly tall enough to look Nim in the eye, but twice as heavy. Victor noted that although the man seemed a bit soft around the edges, his stance and demeanor was that of a man who had plenty of strength left to do whatever his god on called him to do. Showing signs of a life well lived, his short-cropped hair was graying around his temples, slowly overtaking his naturally dark hair. The strongest feature on the man, however, was his kind face, with lines that spoke of a life of smiles and laughter. Victor only saw a hint of that smile as the man welcomed Nim and himself to the temple, before it disappeared behind the visage of a man that had seen too much senseless death.

“Nim, I am glad to see that you came. We were not sure if you would.” Victor immediately recognized the voice as that of the man who had been caring for him during his brief moments of lucidity during the night.

“Father Telenroy. I most likely would not have come, had a wise friend not reminded me that we must enjoy every moment while we can.” Victor noticed that when they clasped arms, they did so in a way that many comrades in arms used: hands grasping near the other’s elbows. “How is she doing?” Nim asked as Father Telenroy gestured in the direction they should walk.

“She is as comfortable as we can make her. We were able to remove the pain, but she will feel her strength leaving her body. Her thoughts may be slow to form at times—a side effect of the poison as it works through the body—but she should remain conscious until the end. Currently, she is talking with her sister, and Mistress Jenn is with them.” Father Telenroy brought them to a door that looked plain at first glance, but as Victor neared it, he realized it was subtly inlaid with beautiful patterns. “Enjoy every moment as if it were the last, as He teaches,” Father Telenroy whispered, moments before opening the door and gesturing for them to enter.

The room they entered immediately brought to mind what Victor thought a cell might look like. It was comfortable enough, but after living in Nim’s mansion, this room seemed barely wide enough to stretch in. There was a colorful mural on the wall that brought to mind green hills and fresh growth after a spring rain. Like everything else in the temple, it was not intrusive, and only vibrant enough to give the impression of these things. Halfway up the wall on the opposite side of the room, a window allowed the light to trickle in through the stained-glass panels, adding more natural colors to the mural, evoking a change of season. All of these things together gave the room a slightly ephemeral quality. It didn’t take Victor long to realize the purpose of this room: it was where people came to die in peace.

Lia was the first person that Victor noticed in the room. She was sitting next to the bed that lay under the window, her normally kempt hair in tangles, and her blue ribbon nowhere to be seen. Her usually vibrant green eyes that so often danced with mischief were now wet with the tears that were soon to caress her cheeks. Propped up with pillows on the bed sat her twin sister. Her soft features had turned sickly, but her love of life shone through. Her hair was well made up, and her green ribbon held it all into a ponytail. It was apparent that she had also been crying earlier, but her eyes were dry now as she looked up to see who had entered.

“Nim, Victor, it’s so good to see you.” Megan’s voice was stronger than Victor had imagined it would be. “We didn’t know if you’d come.”

“What could be more important than seeing old friends?” Nim replied.

“How are you feeling, Victor? I’m told you put up a valiant fight. In fact, I heard you got three of them by yourself.”

Someone made a disgusted noise, and Victor noticed Jenn sitting in the corner of the room and looking very much like a caged animal. It was apparent that she didn’t want to be in the room, but Victor knew she would remain until Nim told her she could go. Knowing that her comment would set Jenn off, Megan smiled as she got the reaction she was hoping for and let out a soft laugh. Victor loved the twins’ laugh—it was light and airy. His smile slid for a moment as he realized that he probably would not be hearing it very often from this day forward.

“I’m doing well, but I woke up feeling like a drunkard. You’re looking as beautiful as always, though it is a little late in the day to be in bed.” Victor smiled at her as he talked, trying to convey a joviality that he didn’t feel.

“You know me, always trying to find a way out of work. Maybe if you’re good we can go dancing later.” She winked at him.

“What is wrong with you two?!” Lia yelled through a sob. “She’s dying. There won’t be any dancing, and you two are sitting here talking like tomorrow will be a better day! It will never be a good day again!”

Megan put a hand on her sister’s knee. “I think that in these past few hours, I’ve come to see the way that Nim and Victor think. For us, every day was simply another day of freedom. When we were… before Nim took us in, we took life as it came, knowing it would never be any different. We felt that things would never get better, so we just gave up and learned to accept it. Once we lived with Nim, we looked at every day anew, floating through life carefree because we didn’t have to worry anymore. Nim and Victor are different, though; something gets in their way and they immediately begin to think about ways to deal with it. They look death in the eye and spit, knowing full well that Thom will take them eventually. There is nothing you can do once it is your time, but until that time you need to fight. If you are afraid of dying, you will never truly live. I can see death approaching, sister. I am in the church of some of the greatest healers alive, and there is nothing they can do. I want to spend my last hours talking to my friends and enjoying the time we have left together, as it should be.”

“That’s the way I look at it,” Nim said. “I was giving in to my grief and decided that I wasn’t going to come down here until I was reminded that if you live, you’re eventually going to die. I’m sorry that day has to be today, Megan, but it has been a pleasure knowing you.” Victor saw the moisture starting to fill Nim’s eyes again as he turned to the door. “I have to go talk to Father Telenroy about… something.” He left the room, and Jenn followed, right on his heels.

“It was a pleasure meeting you too, Nim, more than you will ever know.” Megan said to the closed door through fresh tears. Lia nodded and took her sister’s hand before Megan turned her attention back to Victor. “So, Victor, tell me about what you’ve been doing all month, we haven’t had a chance to talk about it. I’ve heard that you were quite busy. Servants all over the place are talking about the boy wonder. You aren’t going to become a puffed-up mage or a stuffy old knight, are you?” Megan laughed as she wiped the tears away with her free hand.

“No, I don’t think I want to be one of the mages, or one of the knights. I was thinking maybe I’ll become king,” Victor said, his face serious. Both of the girls had known him long enough to know that he was joking. They began to laugh, and he thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He continued to regale them with stories about his month, exaggerating some points and leaving out many of the dull, repetitive drills he had been doing. Nim came in about halfway through the story and joined in on the conversation.

It took about a half hour for Victor to get through his story, and afterwards they began to talk about trivial things until Megan began to lose consciousness. Her eyelids began to grow heavy and her sentences were becoming slower. Victor’s mind went blank, and he couldn’t remember what they had been talking about a moment before, when he realized that she was no longer breathing. Nim leaned in and held two fingers to her wrist. His head drooped in sadness moments later. Lia broke down and fell to her knees beside her sister’s deathbed, grabbing her twin’s hand for the last time.

“Come on, Victor, we have work to do.” Nim said before putting his hand on Lia’s shoulder and squeezing slightly.

Victor nodded to his mentor. “Goodbye, Megan.” He wiped away his tears as he turned to walk out the door. The time for mourning was over for now; it was time for retribution.

“Nim,” Lia said, her voice slightly muffled from her head’s position between her arms.

“Yes, Lia?”

“Kill them all.”

“We will,” Victor replied, as he stepped out of the room.

Little information of use had been garnered from the surviving assassin. Someone had tried to suppress the man’s memories, and the acolyte was at a loss as to how it had been done. He was able to gather some of the man’s stronger memories, including common places he visited, major events from his life and such. Some of the memories had been useless—his first kill, his first female conquest, and a few other despicable firsts. There were a few useful nuggets that had come out, however, that all seemed to revolve around a certain area of the city. The acolyte seemed just about ready to give up when he hit on exactly what they had been looking for: a face.

The acolyte of Thom transferred the image he had extracted into a bowl of water so that Victor and Nim could see the man’s face. Victor could tell by the look that crossed Nim’s face as the image coalesced that he knew who the man was. Nim turned to the acolyte and flipped him a gold coin before telling the priest that he could show the assassin the way to his god. The acolyte of Thom, the god of death, nodded his understanding, and when Nim told him that he could take his time, the man grinned.

It was nearing evening by the time that the questioning was done and Nim had recovered several scrolls and other items from his vault. Victor and Nim ate a quick meal in silence before they left Nim’s mansion. As they reached the end of the walkway, they met a familiar face. His dark features were complemented by the black and gold robe he now wore.

“Nim,” Zander Halcyon nodded.

“Zander,” Nim replied.

“Victor, how are you doing?”

“I’m as fine as can be expected, sir.”

“What are you two doing out on such a sad night?” Zander asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Going for a stroll,” Nim said. “How about yourself?”

“About the same. I was in the neighborhood and heard about what had happened. Mind if I come on your little stroll? I think it’s going to be a rather dark night.”

Nim nodded. “If you feel you are up to it. I’m telling you now, though, that it’s going to be a long walk, and I’m not stopping until it’s finished. Why aren’t you with the army? They left this morning.”

“Why aren’t you?” Zander replied with a grin that lasted only a moment.

As the three walked down the streets of Safeharbor, people began to instinctively shutter their windows and bolt their doors. The people of Safeharbor could feel it in the air; it was going to be a cold, dark night.