After three corridors, two right turns, three left ones, Nyle was led down some flight of stairs that were so dimly illuminated that the thought of turning back right away slightly crossed his mind. The badly maintained stone steps, on which his black boots thudded in the narrow environment they were in, were so worn out by time and usage that the thought of falling down in a loud crash wasn’t helping in calming down his nerves. Fortunately, the walk down was a fairly short one, so Nyle didn’t have to ponder for too long if that was where he was going to meet his ultimate fate.

He wasn’t happy however, of the sorry conditions that the place they were just led into was in.

Leaving aside the total lack of life of any kind that gave it an eerie look, the enormous feeling of oppression and the thick veil of dust that seemed to be over every single object in there was making him worried about Arden’s fate. What kind of fate had Arden faced all alone in such a place? Also, what kind of people forced others to undergo such nonsense?

He was right in the middle of pondering what could an Order such as that store inside such a gloomy place that could have been used to punish Arden, whatever the hell he was guilty of, that he almost collided with the man in front of him.

“We’re here.” said Nikolaus, taking a set of keys from under the set of clothes he was wearing.

His hands quickly trailed over the distinctive shapes of the keys, that seemed all the same to Nyle’s eyes, only to stop the moment they landed over one of the lasts. Then, with the very same speed and agility he had demonstrated before, he inserted it into the old metal lock with edges rusted and chipped away by time and dampness that seemed to soak the walls themselves.

As the old and beaten-up key turned counterclockwise, loud metallic clicks reverberated in that gloomy space, making Nyle clench his fist in sudden tension. The other hand instead searched for the familiar and comforting knife’s handle that he always took along with him wrapped around his tight. Now, an officer like him was entitled, and in most cases even obligated, to take with him the long sword that was the sort of unofficial symbol of his authority. Every single officer had one, after all.

But Nyle always found those mass-produced weapons more a disadvantage than a real benefit in the great scope of things. He also guessed that, from the point of view of a normal officer, who was for the ninety-nine percent of the time busy with paperwork, the sword was nothing more than a decoration and a status symbol to be worn around. Which of course wasn’t his case. Not at all.

Fighting. Trying to came up with a solution as the castles of lies the culprits always built around their themselves. Search for the truth with one’s own hand, ignoring all the perils he might face in that search. Those were the things he believed. Those were the things that made him keep going no matter what.

A long sword, which was no doubt useful in an open field, or against a barrage of enemies that surely wonted to harm him, would surely get caught against something during a fight in confined spaces, like the one they standing in. Nyle knew it all too well. One time, some years ago, he was caught in a fight.

At that time the longsword was the main weapon he relied upon for protection; and in rare occasions, even for intimidation. Even now, many years later, he had to admit that long piece of metal forged by fire and hammer was indeed a sight to behold.

Well, long story short, that day he learned how narrow and perhaps even…silly? Yes, that was word. Silly his views had been on things. It was a hard-learned lesson that he remembered every day, thanks to the scar around his abdomen, where the tip of the enemy’s blade had managed to pierce his armor and flesh. Just remembering that time was enough to make shudder if his mind wandered, as it sometimes did, to the sharp sensation he had perceived when the cold, sharp blade had pierc-

The loud screeching sound that came by the hinges, which were also as rusty as the lock, if not even more, put an end to those complexities.

His eyes squinted, trying to discern what was inside that completely dark room. The state of mind he had just come out was certainly not making things easier. Honestly, he could only make out some very blurry shapes that sort of resembled something, but that was it. Everything else was more or less a shapeless blur.

Nyle shuddered. He wasn’t going to stay down there a second more than strictly necessary. Especially with Nikolus right beside him. To be honest, that man was now giving him the creeps with his way of doing things.

Since they had set foot inside that dark, claustrophobic-looking basement, even thought it was really not, that man had not uttered another word. None. His whole demeanour had also changed, going from friendly and amicable to distant and cold. Nyle couldn’t help but ponder what could have caused such a drastic change.

What the hell was going on?

The moment his eyes made out exactly what was in there, he also understood the gloomy feeling he had had all along.

Lying on a bed that looked like it was about to fall apart from how worn and splintered the very wood of which it was made, there was Arden. Or at least, that was the only person he could think of. Paired with the fact that he wasn’t seeing well, the potent smell of blood that was coming from that direction didn’t bode well.

With his heart beating faster, Nyle turned back towards Avron, who was standing there with his eyes darting left and right on high alert. He grabbed the torch that was hanging behind him without any ceremonies and darted inside, shocking him even further.

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The faint light that was coming from that weak flame was barely enough to make matters any better. In retrospect, perhaps it had been a sign of fate, telling him not to go and see whatever was in there. But he had recognized Arden, or the silhouette of his boy to be precise; so there was no way he could’ve ignored that. If only he had listened to fate…

“Wha…what the-” tried to say Nyle. But the grim spectacle of what was in front him robbed him of his voice.

Arden, or what looked like him, was there trembling in constant pain, shaking uncontrollably. His back, which was the part of his body that had been hurt, at least as Nyle could tell, was bleeding heavily from the various wounds that had been inflicted on it. He had already seen wounds like that. There was no mistaking it. Those were lash wounds. And pretty bad one at that.

Rage, pure and overwhelming, hit him head on, making his hand close in a tight fist.

“What the hell is this?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Nikolaus simply stood there silent.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” screamed Nyle. Is that what brothers, as they called themselves, did to each other? Is that how they honoured the valiant dead? Could something so horrible be done to punish a man whose only fault was letting some stupid brazier extinguish? He couldn’t believe there were people so fucking stupid. Yet he had seen many fucked up things over the years.

“Is this how-” tried to say Nyle. But Avron, who had just realized, or had just processed what his eyes were seeing, interrupted him by throwing a right punch towards Nikolaus.

The punch flew right in the direction of the target, ready to deliver what had all the premises of being a devastating blow. However, none of that came true in the end.

If Nyle had known that his younger, and foolish companion, would have reacted like that, he would have interfered before things had gone out of hands. He was a much-experienced fighter than Avron was. And that rookie had just committed a foolish mistake. The aura that was surrounding Nikolaus wasn’t something that could had been obtained without shedding a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. He was a fighter. And damn good one at that. Of that, he had no doubt.

Instead all he was able to do was stand there, angry and shocked at the same time, as he saw Avron fall on the hard stone floor.

He paused. Sure, he was shocked by Avron’s reaction. Even if the thought that the Magisters had assigned him to his care because he was as hot headed and out of control as he used to be did cross his mind, he certainly didn’t expect such a daring move on his part. Hitting a civilian, especially a well-established one like him, would have caused a storm of enormous proportion if the wrong hears ever caught wind of that. And inside the capital, that was most certainly a given.

But that consideration aside, what shocked him good were the reflexes that slightly older man had just displayed as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Those weren’t the movements of someone he expected to find in the Order. The sheer speed with how that man evaded that punch and slid one of his legs to pivot Avron’s whole weight forward had been almost too fast for Nyle’s eyes. In all honesty, it did take him a moment to realize what had just happened. After all, even if Avron was certainly far from being the best fighter, he still had been trained in the martial arts by the Ministry’s instructors, who massacred the rookies with endless training and shouting.

Everyone in the Ministry knew how to defend themselves. Even their captain, that damned corrupted asshole, knew how to. Slightly. Perhaps even badly. But he knew how. So how could Avron be thrown around like he was the greenest of fighters? Was that mysterious man just that good?

The perfectly toned muscularity that peeked from under Nikolaus’s robe the moment he kneeled to offer Avron a hand getting up, answered that silent asked question.

That man, despite his loyalties to the Order of the Flame, still trained as if he was a soldier on active duty. Nyle knew that the vast majority of them members had been soldiers in the past. But he also knew that, after joining, all of them dedicated their entire being to the Order’s teaching, making their toned body deflate.

His brows furrowed. Why would he still subject himself to such harsh training? What he could he possibly need that toned body for, now that, to Nyle’s knowledge, the maximum risk he could face was getting burned by some wild fire form the braziers his own Order tended to daily?

“…I should have suspected you’d have reacted that way. Sometimes I forget how…desensitized I have become on the front lines. It’s a defence mechanism. You know what I’m talking about.” said Nikolaus as he looked at them both with a strange softness that enveloped his eyes. “Alas, all of that didn’t depend on me. It couldn’t be avoided, no matter what.”

“…I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” answered Nyle attentively. He couldn’t know for sure, as it was just a gut feeling, if Nikolaus was telling the truth. However, he was under the impression that Nikolaus appreciated such practices. “Arden shou-”

“It couldn’t be avoided?” asked Avron interrupting him.

The fury that was seeping through his sky-blue eyes was so potent that his whole face seemed to have transformed into something new. Was that really the same young man that had taken him towards to the murder site some days ago?

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s your excuse? It couldn’t be avoided?”

“…That’s just the way it. I don’t like it, but I cannot change years of traditions and rules that have been passed down to us since ancient times. Not that I don’t try. But I’m in a minority, and I-”

“That’s just-”

“I don’t have the power to do so. The Council will put a stop to any such action before anyone could even came up with.”

The Council. Nyle had read about them some time ago during research he had conducted for purely personal purposes. If his mind wasn’t playing him any tricks, he remembered that it was the most important organ of the Order, composed sorely by people that had contributed greatly to it, in some way or another. It was their task to bestow gifts, in case of merit, or punishments, like in that case.

“Still, I don’t think you’re as powerless as you’re making you out to be.” said Nyle.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“That man.” said Nyle walking forward. He could see with the corner of his eyes that Avron was on the verge of trying to hit Nikolaus again. He had to act. And he had to do it fast.

“The one we met before. You know, that annoying bastard that-”

“I get it.” interrupted Nikolaus. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that I know a thing or two about people’s behaviour. And while I don’t have a clue about that rank you seem to hold in the hierarchy, I know for sure that it’s not an insignificant role. Now, what I fail to realize, is why you want to appear so powerless, when powerless you’re not.”

A heavy silence, more deafening than any sound ever could have been, fell over them as Nyle stopped talking. Although the situation seemed to have taken a calmer, more composed tone, the tension was still there, as present as ever. Thankfully, it didn’t last long, as Nikolaus gestured them silently to enter the cell where Arden was at. The reason, however, still remained a mystery.