I was a fool.

I closed the door behind me as gently as I could. I feared that if I gave into the emotion that was swirling around inside me I would rip the thing off it's hinges and hurl it down the corridor. My breathing was calm but heavy as I fought with everything in my soul to keep a level head.

I should have seen it. I should have put the pieces together, They were all there, the world's simplest puzzle just waiting to be solved. I hadn't seen what Tessa really wanted, what she really needed. Perhaps I just refused to see it. Looking back on our time together, certain events were suddenly thrown into a new light, colour soaking through for the first time. From our first meeting in the band until our last, every memory now had new meaning. A touch here and there, a small smile that she only gave to me. The way she brushed off any other band member's attempts to get to know her better or how she would always wake me up with the need to train.

Tessa didn't have a childhood. She had been packed up by with her parents and thrown halfway across the continent to a land she didn't know, to protect a boy she had never met. A connection, she said. Tessa claimed that there was something that binds us together, one which had clearly warped her sensibilities and sense of self, pushing to the point of obsession and possession. She needed me.

I was her world, she had claimed, and I believed her. Despite wanting to deny it, the look on her face wouldn't allow for that. There had been a shine in her eyes as she spoke, a too large smile stretched across lips that weren't familiar with the expression. The way she looked at only me, disregarding Elora and the Sister as if they didn't exist. I truly was a fool.

Elora had seen it. She had tried to tell me after the fight with Tessa, claiming that it wasn't the band that Tessa wanted to protect, but me. I had brushed her off at the time, chalking it up to the Princess being paranoid, or maybe that the Bond was affecting her emotions as it once did. Tessa was just quirky, I had told myself.

That had seemed like the right conclusion to come to at the time. Even her following me around hadn't been a cause for alarm. The sharp-eyed mercenary had a tendency towards strange behaviour, something I had gotten used to early on in our friendship. After all, during my time in the Brigade it was hard for me to turn around without running into her. We hadn't talked during these interactions. Well, she didn't. Tessa would just stand there and stare at me with a furrowed brow as I tried awkwardly to make small talk. Eventually she would just leave and I'd shrug my shoulders in dismissal, unconcerned with what it meant because how could I ever have known that there was more to it?

Those encounters had new meaning now, tainted by recent revelations. As I thought back on those times I wondered if she was trying to say something, trying to let me know how she felt. Maybe she had wanted to and I hadn't asked the right questions to pry the answers free. She had killed the man who had left me scarred and broken, who had left me terrified and seemingly alone. She had destroyed the demon who had haunted the dreams of a eight year old orphan.

I don't think she understood what that meant to me.

I hadn't told Elora everything about that time in my life. Killing Leila's murderer had almost been easy. All I had to do was picture her sweet, smiling face in my mind's eye and my resolve would bolster, hardening like granite. I had enjoyed ending that man's life, enjoyed his horrified screams as he dragged himself, bleeding and desperate, towards the door of his hovel in an attempt to escape his fate. I looked back on that and felt no regret, nor guilt. Justice had needed to be done and the guard wasn't going to do it for me. It was up to me, as the big brother, to put things right.

But the man who had put the scars on my back was an altogether more insidious beast.

That encounter had scarred not just my skin, but my psyche. I had been left destitute and bedridden for months after his torturous beatings. My nights were filled with fear-inducing nightmares that caused me to wake in a cold sweat, opening the weeping wounds on my small back as I heaved in the cold winter air.

I had no one to turn to for help. I couldn't tell the Sister because it would only make her more upset. I couldn't tell Pater because I was the older of the two of us and I wouldn't want to put him at any sort of risk just for my sake. No, I was on my own and that meant I needed to solve the problem.

I had gotten a hold of a blade and had been working up the resolve to seek out my attacker and end his miserable existence when the body was found.

A corpse riddled with knife wounds, more than I could count, was hauled out of the alley and thrown onto the back of a cart as though it was business as usual. For everyone else in the Commons, it was. Death was an old acquaintance among the common-folk and it was rare that a week would pass without someone turning up dead. The body must have been there for quite some time if the heady scent of decay was anything to go by. I had been out on an errand for the Sister. It was the first time I had left the orphanage since my wounds had gotten the best of me. Call it what you will, be it fate or providence, but I was in the right place at the right time. I didn't get too close, just enough to confirm that it was him.

For everyone else it was an ordinary day. For me it might have been one of the most defining moments of my rather difficult childhood. Part of me was disappointed. Annoyed that I hadn't been the one to do it, the one to put that demon to bed forever. Another part, the larger part, was relieved. I had gone home to the orphanage and laid down in my room, bawling my eyes out as a sense blissful calm fell over me for the first time in weeks. The tension I had built up inside me releasing and letting me go. There were difficult moments after that and I'm sure I will face some tough times ahead. But at that point in my life I was without worry or fear.

Tessa had given me that. She had given me peace of mind during a time in my life where I felt like I would never feel normal again. She had saved me and all it had cost her was her entire fucking life.

I clenched my jaw and released my hold on the door, stalking through the hallways like a phantom. I needed to get some air. I needed to escape this place, these feelings, just for a moment. The price that Tessa had been forced to pay was too high. If I could go back I would never have seen it paid.

I yanked open the door to the orphanage and felt the cool air wash over my skin in a wave as I stepped into the world beyond. The Commons I could understand. All this Heir business, Knights and Smiths, it was beyond me, despite what everyone else kept trying to say. Maybe I'm special, but that doesn't mean I'm not still a gutter rat orphan from Myrin. As self-deprecating as it sounded, thinking that seemed to settle my nerves and caused a small smile to form on my lips.

“Lord, where are you going?” Embla was there, of course. All of the guard stood just beyond the orphanage's steps. The captain of Elora's protectors was forced to crane her neck up to look me in the eye. I found that rather funny, mainly because she was still trying to look intimidating despite the fact that the top of her head was level with my waist.

“Embla. I forgot you were here.” I replied glibly. The last thing I wanted to deal with right now was Embla and her antics.

“Apologies, sir, but you didn't answer my question,” The woman replied with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. The mighty warrior gave off the distinct impression that she had just sucked on a lemon.

“Just a walk, no need to worry,” I answered, causally descending the steps.

“Where is the Princess, sir?”came Embla's sharp retort.

“Inside with my mother,” I said back and stopped Embla with one hand as she attempted to walk past me, gently laying my fingers on her armoured and cloak covered arm, “and she would much rather not be disturbed. I'm sure you understand.”

I was firm with my instructions. Technically I was a member of the royal house now. I didn't have a title, sure, but I was still the Royal Protector and future King of Venos. I have to remember to talk to Elora about that. But the fact that I wasn't officially recognised definitely gave Embla some leeway in how she treated me. I may be the Knight of the Princess, but I was still a commoner.

It was all the captain could do to stop herself from sneering, “With respect, sir, I believe it best to confirm that with her Highness.”

“What is your problem with me, Embla?” I asked curtly, my hand remaining where it was. I had put up with her shit for the entire journey back to Paldrum and hadn't said a single word against her, but after what I'd just learned and after hearing Tessa speak I was fast approaching my limits.

To be honest, my limit had been reached some time ago. I had changed after Paldrum. I had lost the edge that I had honed over my many years as a pickpocket, thief and then mercenary. The diminishing of my sword skills had caused me to decline in almost every other area and speaking with Tessa had made me painfully aware of that fact.

I was ashamed. Not of Tessa, but myself. I had forgotten who I was, what I had fought for and the battles I had waged. I had seen war, seen death and come out the other side whole. Changed for the better by the experience. I was a warrior and not one who put up with shit from prissy guards. The me of a month ago would have called Embla on her bullshit long before now. I had been feeling sorry for myself, wallowing in self-pity because my life wasn't exactly what I had pictured it to be. My grievance was genuine, but that didn't mean I had to let it consume me. Just because I had learned that many things in my life were a lie doesn't mean it changed who I was at the most fundamental level. If this woman takes another step towards the door to my childhood home I'm going to smash her head against the cobbles.

Strength filled me at the thought, not unlike being Bonded with Elora. I reaffirmed who I was and, more importantly, what I was. I pitied myself for having a life that was seemingly predestined, all while Tessa struggled against problems that were far beyond my scope. By the Spirit, even Elora probably had more shit to deal with on a daily basis growing up that I did. I needed to stop being pathetic, stop playing the fool and embracing the role. My name is Orin of Myrin and being an Heir ,or a Knight, or a King wouldn't change that.

Embla turned to look at me and I met her gaze evenly as I hadn't done before. I had been cowed by her in the past and the argument at the gates rose to the forefront of my mind. When the guard captain had attacked my ability to protect Elora I had felt shame in my heart and on my cheeks. I had nothing to say to her in response. I hated myself for that, for needing the validation of a stranger, for needing Elora to step in to stoke my ego back to life. It was pitiable and not who I was. I wasn't that weak.

“Is it that I'm a commoner, or is it the whole Cellus situation? Just curious.” I asked again, not looking away as Embla glared at me. She was good with a sword, I could say that much about her, but there was no way she would win this fight if she decided to draw it. I was anxious to fight her. My old bloodlust and love of fighting had been absent since Paldrum but it now returned in full force, aching to be let loose.

“I don't know what you mean, sir.” Embla stated, her eyebrow twitching as she glanced down at my hand on her arm.

“You can speak freely, Embla. No Princesses to impress here, just little old me.” I smiled, showing a little too much teeth and noticing that the guard arrayed before me were subtly moving into an attack formation.

Embla's jaw hardened as she turned away from the orphanage to face me, drawing herself to her full height which was the equal of mine. “If that is what you wish.”

“I do wish,” I replied, releasing my hold on her and taking a step back, making sure I kept the rest of the guard on my left side.

“You being common has nothing to do with my dislike,” Embla started, her jaw clenching, “I think you're going to get the Princess killed. You acted without thinking when you stole her away from the palace and from the safety it provides. You put her into a situation which should have ended with both of your deaths. You lucked out, but it's only a matter of time before it turns and you put her Highness in danger again. Not to mention your disrespectful attitude, rudeness towards the Queen and utter disregard for propriety make you a danger to not just the Princess, but the Kingdom as a whole.”

“You done?” I asked, bored already. It was the same old Noble bullshit I had heard half my life. Those on high peering down on us from above.

“Not quite,” Embla sneered, “I don't know what you did to convince Elora that you are the better match over the Duke. But between the two of you, Cellus is by far the greater candidate, even if it is just as husband and not as Knight. Half the army and all the Nobles are already talking about how you have usurped his place at her side. The best thing you could do would be to find a dark hole in the ground and leave politics and the affairs of this Kingdom to those who actually want to preserve it.”

“Nice speech,” I laughed at the guard causing her to bristle, “You practice it much in the mirror? Nothing's changing, Embla. Elora made her choice and I'm not gonna argue it, nor would I want to. We are Knight and Smith, Bound forever. Nothing you or any of your other Noble buddies can do about it.”

Embla's face turned red and she took a step forward, “If you were half the man you believed yourself to be, you would give up on her. You disparage the Nobility but you have no idea the forces that are arrayed against you. Everyone has something to gain from your death and keeping you alive, ensuring a commoner becomes King, gets them nothing. Elora may have chosen you, but you choosing to embrace your role as husband puts far more in danger than your sense of pride.”

“I thought this had nothing to do with being common?” I asked with a smile, Embla's anger doing nothing to intimidate me, only making me feel all the more eager for a fight. “If you hate me so much, Embla, then feel free to do something about it.”

Embla looked about ready to do exactly that, her body was a coiled spring ready to pounce. I could almost hear the grinding of her teeth as she fought against her instinct to attack me. I was more than a little disappointed when she stepped away, her face turning to the side as she stopped herself just before she crossed the point of no return.

“I don't hate you, Orin,” Embla said, though her eyes said otherwise. A wave of her hand caused the other women of the guard to relax and take a step back. Though, I noticed that not a one of them stopped glaring at me. “I simply want you to face the facts. The whole journey back from Paldrum showed me just how unprepared for all this you are. My duty is to protect her Highness and, for now, that includes you as well. You're in over your head. Being her Knight is one thing, but you are unsuited for the throne.”

“If you think for one second that I'm going to hand off Elora to Cellus like some kind of prize then you're even more delusional than your Queen,” I sharply, “Elora is my Smith. Nothing will change that. Not the will of the Nobles and not you. Shit, if the Spirit itself came down from on high and tried to interfere I'd cut it in half with my Weapon. You know what I think, Embla? You're embarrassed that the fabled Princess' guard are so fucking ineffective. You didn't protect her at her wedding, didn't protect her at Dunwellen. As far as I'm concerned you and your lot are useless. Your opinion on Elora and I is worth shit to me.”

Embla almost hissed at me, something that was emulated by the rest of the guard, “You dare to-”

“I'm done talking about this,” I interrupted her, “You will not enter the orphanage. I say this as Royal Protector and future King of this country. I'd advise you to be careful with your next words, Embla. Apparently, I might one day become a very powerful person. I'm sure I could make your life pretty difficult if I exerted even the slightest bit of effort.”

You know what? Saying all that actually felt pretty good. Maybe being a Noble wouldn't be too bad after all. I tried with everything in me to keep the smile from my face and maintain my stoic and authoritative glare.

“Y-yes, sir.” Embla spat out, her back straightening as she fixated on a point over my right shoulder.

“Good. Oh, and one more thing. The cloaks,” I waved a hand dismissively at the guard's 'disguise', “They ain't fooling anyone. I know you believe that commoners are a step down in terms of intelligence but a blind beggar could see that you lot are all Noble. Maybe take it off the streets and try to keep a lower profile? For Elora's sake. We don't want the people to know that she's here.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for letting us know. Would my Lord require an escort for his 'walk'?” Embla said, that deadened tone in place once more. I was honestly glad to see it's return, along with the blatant disrespect that said tone was laced with. Embla didn't like me, I had known this when I had asked and the reasons she gave were pretty much in line with what I had already assumed. Still, She hadn't tried to argue with me like she had before. Perhaps the guard captain had finally accepted my authority. It was a start, at least. As much as the thought made my skin crawl, I'd have to prove myself to the Nobility at some point, if only to avoid being the focus of any of their insidious schemes.

I found myself thinking once again about what the Sister had said, about how all Nobles weren't as bad as those in Venos. My interactions with Nobility from other countries had been limited, with only Boldrin really getting to speak to them, but I had seen more than one instance that gave me hope. Who knows, maybe I could change things in Venos when Elora and I were in charge.

“No, I'll be alright, Embla. The Commons are my home.” I said to the guard by way of farewell and headed down the street without a backwards glance, though I could feel her eyes watching me as I walked away.

I may have been getting ahead of myself there. I'm sure some idealistic young Noble has wanted to change things for the better in Venos and come up empty. Then again, there had never been a common-born King before so who knows what could happen in the future?

Look at me, already planning what to do when I ascended the throne despite not once discussing it with Elora, the one person I needed to talk about it with. I didn't even know if I liked the idea of being King.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I was thankful to the guard captain for one thing, at least. She had helped take my mind off of Tessa for a few minutes which was something of a blessing. As soon as I was out of sight, however, my mind returned to my mercenary friend.

I had left the way I had because I had nothing really to say to her. At least, that had been my thought at the time. What could you say when you learned that someone has been stalking you your entire life? More than that, you learn that their life has been lived for the sole purpose of your safety and well-being. Why would they do that to a little girl? How could they take an innocent and thrust them into a world they were entirely unprepared for. Tessa had lived across the street for years, for the Spirit's sake!

Boldrin.

I clenched my fists as I walked the cobbles, the image of my father figure jumping for attention in my mind's eye. Tessa had said that Boldrin had been the one who had trained her. I knew that her father was behind her leaving Ragora, but someone didn't develop obsessive tendencies overnight. I was dense at times, but no one could accuse me of being an idiot. Tessa had claimed we had a connection. I would bet my Knighthood on Boldrin being the one who had reinforced that idea, who had pushed Tessa closer to me and away from everything else. She was broken in a way that I had never seen before. I believed every word she said, each one sprouting from her with fervour, her eyes growing more manic and intense the more she spoke. The first thought in my mind was not one of pity, or shame or even a sense of being at a loss.

No, my first thought was about how I could fix this. How I could fix her. She believed that she only breathed for my sake and that was no way for anyone to live. Tessa had missed out on her life because her father had decided that protecting the Heir was more important than his own daughter!

“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath, venom running through the word. Mastan D'viritazi had essentially weaponized his own child. For what purpose I could only begin to guess, but it couldn't be worth warping Tessa into what she was now.

I had owed Tessa a great deal before I found out about all this. She had saved me on numerous occasions and the help she had given me in training had been invaluable. My debt to her had just increased and I felt the burden settle heavily upon my shoulders. It was something I was willing to bear because if I didn't then no one else could. Tessa had saved me too many times to count, who knows what else she had done to keep me safe over the many years she spent as my shadow. Perhaps I should feel violated that my privacy was so completely circumvented and ignored but I had already decided that I was going to stop weeping over the mistakes of the past. The future lay ahead of me like an open book. I had work to do and problems to solve. The first of which was whether or not letting Tessa Bond with me was a good idea.

Thinking about it objectively, without regard for Elora's feelings or my own, I shouldn't do it. Tessa doesn't really have a choice in this. She doesn't want the Bond, she needs and craves it. It has been promised to her all her life and I feel like Bonding with her would be taking advantage of her fractured mind and clear focus on me. But if I didn't Bond with her, would she just wave goodbye and disappear into the sunset? I didn't want that. It wouldn't help her. She's my friend and, more than that, she's family. I don't want her to run away again, so what do I do?

“How do I fix you?” I whispered as I entered the market. Walking into the large and dimly lit square, I examined the stalls that had been absent for hours.

I found myself walking again until I stood in front of Laird's shop, staring up at the sign with frustration plainly evident on my face. I remembered the outfit that Laird had made me, that green tunic that was so fine I knew it was well beyond what I had been able to afford. I also remember how Craven had burned the bloody thing to pieces despite Laird making me promise him not to ruin it. It was strange to think about all that had happened since then, all that had taken place. It was almost like I was retracing my steps during my first day back in Myrin. It seemed like so long ago now but it had only been a matter of weeks since then. All I needed now was-

“Found you!” A crowing voice echoed throughout the vast square, ricocheting off the walls and spreading out among the various alleys.

I raised an eyebrow and turned to face the speaker, only to see nothing at all. I spun in place, just in case someone was approaching from my blind side but found that too was absent of assailants.

“Hello?” I asked the empty air, confused and half believing that I must have been imagining things.

“You thought you could get away with it? Thought you could give me a hidin' and there wouldn't be no conse...consequences ?!” The voice screamed out into the night, the sound causing several lanterns to be lit in windows and more than a few curtains to shift as people who lived above the shops looked to see what all the fuss was about. “I'm gonna teach all these folks what it means to cross the Dogs!”

No.

“You're gonna beg for your life!”

Please, not this.

“You'll beg for mercy, but I ain't gonna listen!”

Sig the pig, I presume.

He stepped out into the square, off to my right, so I had turn myself to get a good look at him. Sig had definitely seen better days. He wasn't so much a pig anymore, though he still retained a fair amount of weight. His skin looked loose and was the colour of white paste, his faded black tattoos standing in sharp contrast. His eyes were bloodshot and he had grown some hair on his large head, though they were wisps flittering about in the wind. He had traded in his fancy tunic for something even fancier, which still seemed to stretch against his significantly less bulbous frame. Glancing down, I noticed his right hand was still wrapped in bandages. The pungent aroma of alchemical ingredients mingled with the faint tang of infection. Seems the wound I gave him still hadn't fully healed yet. Well, isn't that tragic

“Surprised to see me, asshole?” Sig snarled, lifting his stump indignantly, as though I wouldn't recognise him without it, “I've had people watching the gates. Knew you'd show your face at some point.”

I glanced at his other hand and noticed that he was carrying a heavy wooden club. I looked Sig in the eyes, noticing his intense glare, his killing intent and need to get even. All of it was plain to see upon his face. Sig the pig was here to send a message, here for revenge after suffering a humiliating defeat. Yet, despite the danger he posed, I could only do one thing at that moment.

I laughed.

Long and hard, I bellowed out into the street as the ridiculousness of the situation hit me like a war-hammer. This was hilarious. Sig the pig had appeared before me just when my anger and frustration had begun to reach a boiling point. It was almost too perfect.

“Why you laughin?” Sig spat out, stopping a good ten feet away from me and hefting his club. “You're about to get done in!”

“By you?” I replied through bouts of wheezing laughter, “How exactly? You weren't much threat before and you're even less now, Sig. I suggest you turn around and walk away. I won't leave you alive this time.”

Instead of shaking in terror like I had expected him too, the ill-looking man just smiled savagely, “I ain't alone this time. Boys!”

Of course, he would have friends. Sig was an idiot, but even he knew that the chances of him beating me in a fight were close to zero, even if I didn't have a weapon. Six men walked out from various points in the square, each of them carrying the same kind of club that Sig himself wielded. All of the newcomers were much like the Common Dogs I had seen in my life up to that point. Covered in tattoos, shaven heads and their arms bare for the world to see just how 'dangerous' they were. Still, though, that was a total of seven opponents. More than I could handle alone. That was what the wiser portion of my mind was saying. The other part, the recently reawakened need for battle, said to the underworld with the numbers.

“Not laughing anymore are you, funny man?”Sig grinned, his crooked and yellow teeth shining in the dimly lit square.

“No blades?” I asked, having managed to compose myself. Maybe laughing had been a little premature. Three of my new opponents had settled on my blind side. That wasn't good.

“I know you're the Princess' Knight, 'Orin',” Sig replied, emphasising my name for no reason at all. It wasn't like I was trying to hide who I was, “Whole of Myrin knows it. 'The Scarred Knight'. I was thinking of just cutting your throat and leaving you in a puddle of blood, but then I thought about how much money I could make off you.”

“So...kidnapping?” How original. He obviously didn't know how Knights and Smiths worked. Elora would track me down in a heartbeat and Tessa would be with her. The odds of Sig or his men surviving that encounter were nil.

“Aye,” Sig growled, “I'm in charge of Myrin now. Destin and the other bosses fucked off after the wedding. I'm rebuilding the Dogs. This city is gonna be mine and you're gonna help!”

“You are an idiot,” I was genuinely tempted to roll my eye but just managed to avoid it, “You signed away your life the moment you spoke. I'm gonna kill you, Sig. Even if the rest of your goons take me out, I'm still gonna kill you.”

The Common Dogs grunt looked faintly taken aback by that and he took a couple of steps backwards before he snarled at the empty air.

“You ain't got shit! I don't see a sword and you've got no Princess to do your magic. I'm gonna wreck you and cut out your other eye.”

“You know that for a fact, Sig?” I replied, spreading my arms to the side, doing a poor impression of preparing to cast a magic spell. I knew first hand what kind of superstitions that the common-folk of Myrin held. Knights were basically gods in the eyes of the common man. I was rewarded with dissenting murmurs among a few of Sig's men. That was good, it meant there was doubt and I could exploit that. “Still, getting rid of you now would be doing you a favour. After all, Destin's gonna come back and he won't be too happy to see a guy like you claiming he's over and done with. You've got balls, Sig. Tiny, but at least you have them .”

“He ain't got shit!” Sig squealed much like his namesake and pushed one his men onwards towards me. “Get him, get him now!”

I don't know if it was loyalty or fear that got them moving but move they did. Three of the six men charged towards me, the ones who looked scared at my faintly mystical motions were hanging back. At least that meant I'd only have deal with a few of them at once.

Sig was right in one aspect. I really didn't have shit. Everything that had happened with Tessa had fried my brain a little, so I had left the orphanage with not even a dagger to my name. I craved Rionna's hilt in my hand but knew that was a dream. My Weapon was securely locked inside my soul and without the key that was Elora, Rionna might as well have been on the other side of the world.

I stepped to the side as a club whizzed past my head. The hard wood hit the cobbles and sent a jolt through the thug who had made the attack. I sent a knee crashing into the side of his head, sending him tumbling away just in time to feel a club collide with my back.

I winced and was knocked to my knees, turning just in time to dive to the side and avoid another attack aimed at my head. I rolled across the ground and jumped to my feet, right in front of my next attacker. This one looked scared shitless and about the same age as Gertrand but he still went on the offensive, aiming the club blindly as he swung.

I stepped into his guard and pinned his arm with the club against my side before smashing my forehead against his nose. I was rewarded with the satisfying crunch of cartilage, a choked yelp leaving the young man's lips. I ripped the club from his grip, pushing him away and swinging it around me in a blind attempt to ward off any attackers from behind. It didn't help. I felt one hit me on the shoulder and another a little higher, against my collarbone. Both sent a stinging pain through my body. I felt like something must be broken at this point but when you've fought while on fire, like I have, minor wounds like this really aren't enough to slow you down.

“Go down, asshole!” One of the men hurled an insult as he swung again. He shouldn't have been so confident, I had a weapon now and he wasn't skilled enough to make me pause. I blocked his club with my own before throwing myself forwards.

I felt it. My skill returning, the rhythm of battle beating within my chest, in time with my pounding heart. I grinned and snarled as I lashed out with my club, feeling it smash against the side of the thug's head with a bitter crunch. My assailant didn't have enough time to gurgle before I hit him again. This time in the throat. It was enough to put him out of the fight, if not to outright kill him.

“What the fuck is this guy?” I heard one of the men who had yet to attack shout at their boss. I didn't spare a glance for Sig, instead turning on the one attacker who was still standing. He looked hesitant and afraid, his eyes moving between Sig and me as panic shined within.

He shouldn't have looked at Sig. He was distracted and I took advantage, closing the distance between us easily and gripping the club with two hands. I brought it down on the crown of his head, leaving behind a dent that pretty much ensured he would either spent the rest of his life as a simpleton or be sent straight to Myrin's over-crowded graveyard.

“Don't shit yourselves!” Sig shouted as I slowly walked towards him and his gang of inept followers, my newly acquired club dripping blood onto the stone beneath me, “They got him good, we just need to finish the job!”

“Fuck that!” One of the men shouted, “I ain't doing shit. He killed them!”

“None of you are going anywhere,” I said with a savage smirk. My body was aching and the three hits that had landed were sending sharp stabs of pain through me, but it wasn't enough for me to stop. “I'm not done with you.”

“Together! We do it now!” Sig snapped as he pushed the men ahead of himself, “Think of the money, you wasters! Any of you run and I'll skin you alive!”

Fear of Sig pushed them all forward, trumping their fear of me and my club. I noticed that the man who had spoken up before looked like he was near tears. I could understand that. Men like these, they were used to being on top. They liked the illusion of power they got from the tattoos and saying the name of their gang. The thugs at the upper levels were genuinely terrifying. Real gangsters who had lived a life of blood and toil, who had earned their respect through fear. These guys were just living at the bottom, feeding off of the reputation of the higher echelons. They weren't worthy of respect. They weren't even worthy of my pity.

I have fought Knights that made the earth tremble, who controlled fire and water. I have fought against warriors who broke the very laws of this world and twisted them to purpose. I have stood before the gates of a fortress and laughed at the army arrayed before me, and I have spat in the face of royalty when they tried to take what was mine.

Now I found myself back where I started, fighting Sig the pig in the markets of Myrin. Was this the Spirit interfering in my life, guiding me back to purpose, back to who I was? I didn't know and frankly I didn't care to. I had places to be, people to see and lives to mend. I didn't have time for this, so I would finish them quickly.

The man on my right was the first to die. He tried to be clever, tried to maneuver himself into my blind side, but it didn't work. I could hear his feet pounding the cobbles, the sounds of his heavy and frantic breath. I lashed out without seeing and felt my club collide with his face. He tried to retreat but I hounded him relentlessly. I aimed low and smashed his knee, hearing a sickening crack that was made all the more nauseating by the scream that followed. I cut off the sound when I lifted a foot and brought it down onto the top of his head, feeling something give beneath my boot.

I wasn't fast enough to stave off the next attack, which hit me at the temple. My vision swam and I felt like vomiting but I knew if I stopped I was dead, so I leapt away. I felt the trickle of warm blood fall down the right side of my face and knew that the wound was a nasty one. Everything was blurry but it wouldn't be enough to save their pathetic lives.

The one who had attacked me had been none other than Sig the pig, who fell back once again, hiding behind his men with a large grin on his face. I grunted in response and went on the attack, aiming to swing for one man but heading directly for the one across from him. Three or four hits from the clubs followed swiftly after that and I knew at least one of my ribs was broken, but I stayed the course. I two-handed the vicious implement, bringing it down again and again until another of the men fell, never to rise again.

Two of Sig's thugs remained, both ill at ease and shrinking back in fear. The smart move from me at this point was to run away, back towards the orphanage and Elora. Bonding would ensure my victory but I wasn't doing this just to win. I was tackling this challenge because I had missed a step and needed to prove that I still had what it took to be worthy of the title 'warrior'. No more cowering, no more self-doubt. I would beat these men or die in the attempt: That is who I am.

I roared, the square singing with my shout, and charged the three men. A panicked attack from the one on the left hit my arm, which I raised to stop the blow from hitting my head. The limb became useless after that, but I didn't need both to end this fight. I brought club around and caved in the man's skull, his expression one of horror and bewilderment. The other thug tried to take advantage of my victory and poked me in the ribs, in the exact spot that I had been hurt before. I winced and wildly swung to create some distance. Damn, that had hurt quite a bit. The entire right side of my body was bruised and battered. It seemed I had taken more hits than I had initially thought.

Sig's hired muscle was bolstered by my retreat and sought to capitalise by chasing me. He was a rabid dog with a bone. I'd put him down like one.

I leapt forward, pushing my body to the limit of what it was capable of and slipping past his wildly flailing club. I brought my own around and sent it into the back of his head with a wet impact that caused his body to spasm as it hit the ground.

Now all I needed to do was deal with-

When the attack came, it spun me in place. The club in my hand loosened and fell to the ground as I followed soon after. The world was spinning, worse than before and I voided my breakfast onto the cobbles before I had time to realise what had happened. Everything was blurry, I could see three of everything as I reached out for a weapon, anything. Something to give me an edge.

“No you don't!” Sig's club came down on my leg and I shouted out in pain as I heard one of my bones crack under the impact.

“You're gonna laugh at me!”

The club smashed into my back.

“You know who I am?”

The club grazed against my scalp, knocking me to the side.

“I'm fucking Sig! I rule this city now, me!”

I grabbed something. It was a club but it looked to have been broken in half. Must have happened at some point during the free for all when I'd charged my remaining four opponents. I clutched it tightly in hand, pressing my new weapon against my forearm and hiding it against my side.

“I was gonna make that bitch of a Princess pay to get you back,” Sig laughed and grabbed the front of my tunic, pulling me up towards him. The smell of his rotting teeth would have caused me throw up again if there had been anything left to do so. “But fuck that. I'm gonna cave your head in and then everyone will know not to mess with Sig-”

A sword burst through Sig's chest, stopping the enforcer mid-sentence. The fat man frowned, his expression falling as he hesitantly looked down at the glimmering steel that had just pierced his heart. The look of utter confusion on his face was almost enough to make me start laughing all over again.

“How... But how...?” Sig said between hurried breaths, blood pouring from between his lips.

I grabbed the back of Sig's head and smiled before shoving the newly made stake under his chin, through his mouth and into his brain. The light in Sig's little pig eyes faded and the last thing he saw was my grinning face as he was sent to be judged by the Great Spirit.

Sig's now limp corpse fell to the side revealing a face that I hadn't expected, “Captain, what are you doing here?”

Embla looked around at the mass of bodies surrounding me impassively, her eyes lingering on Sig's for a second before she returned my stare, “Friends of yours?”

I pointed at the body of my one time enemy now laying in a pool of blood, “I cut his hand off a few weeks ago, guess he held a grudge.”

Embla snorted in derision, “I assume so. I would've stepped in sooner, but you seemed to have things under control.”

“You were watching?” Maybe I should have been indignant, but Embla wasn't exactly my biggest fan. If anything, I'm surprised she stepped in at all.

“I was. Something didn't feel right after you left. I told the rest of the guard to protect the Princess while I shadowed you,” The guard replied, “You fought differently. You were more... savage. Nothing like you were in training. Why is that?”

My grin was bloody as I glared at her, “No reason. I just remembered who I am.”

I made to get to my feet when I felt the point of a blade suddenly appear beneath my chin, pressing hard enough into the flesh to draw just the smallest trickle of blood. I froze in place and glanced up at the guard captain who stared at me with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

“So, you gonna take your shot, Embla?” I whispered, my body tense and ready to move if that was the case. Embla would kill me if I fought her now. She knew it as well as I did. Didn't mean I was going to take it laying down.

“I can't. It would harm the Princess, but I should,” Embla replied, “You insult everything I stand for. Honour, duty and respect. You piss on all the tenets of serving the Nobility. Just because you're common doesn't give you the excuse to act like an animal.”

I raised an eyebrow, my eye drifting to the glittering steel of her blade, “How exactly have I been doing that?”

“Look around you, Orin of Myrin,” Embla growled, “Men are dead, beaten by your primal rage. What I said will always be true: You are unworthy of the crown and the burdens that come with it.”

“That's exactly what a Noble would say,” I said in quiet reply, “Fear the common-folk, don't let them rise too far beyond their station. That sort of shit, yeah?”

“Perhaps that's what I would think if I had always been Noble,” Embla replied, “I was born a commoner. My father worked his fingers to the bone to raise up my family from squalor. Every commoner has the potential to be Noble. It is not a matter of birth, but of deed. I have served as Elora's guard since she was seven years old and watched as she grew from a girl into the woman she is today. She has lived with more weight upon her shoulders than any person her age has any right to. She deserves the best and I do not believe that is you, Orin of Myrin. Your deeds are wanting in my eyes.”

“Yet you do not know me, Embla,” I said softly, “You have no idea who I am, nor what I stand for. You make assumptions based on rumour and expect me grovel with thanks when you speak. Born a commoner or not, you do not remember what it is like to be like me, to be like the other people in the Commons. Don't pretend otherwise. You say you find me wanting, then let me show you differently.”

The tip of Embla's sword wavered as she stared at me, “Show me what, exactly?”

“Let me show all of you that I deserve to be standing at Elora's side,” I grinned at the guard captain, “Just keep watching and I'll show you why Elora chose me as her Knight.”

Embla seemed to be searching me for any sign of trickery and I didn't blame her for thinking so. Historically, I hadn't had the best record when it came to dealing with anyone of a high station but my previous thoughts were right enough. If I wanted to make a go of this I'd need the Nobility, or at a few of them, on my side in the days to come. I had no idea how that would work, thankfully that was something Elora could help me with. The hole just keeps getting deeper it seems. I wouldn't go out of my way to prove anything to the fops, but I could at least try a little harder to not be antagonistic at every available opportunity.

Embla's sword dipped some more. She didn't smile and her expression was still unyielding, but there was a hint of something there. Acceptance, maybe? Vague, I know, but it was there. “Then perhaps-”

I wondered for a time after that what Embla was going to say next. Unfortunately, Tessa had just caught sight of me on my knees with a sword at my throat. She reacted. Tessa drop kicked Embla in the head at speed.

She had done it before. I really should have seen that coming.