"Wounded!" shouted Marcel as we neared the town - and as if he kicked a hornet's nest with those words a veritable swarm of people emerged out from the town's gate to help. People bringing extra stretchers, supplies, clean water or even simple helping hands - everyone contributed something in order to aid's the town's dying protectors - me included. Though the addition of an unknown face did not escape the guards.

"Oi, who's this?" A pair of lightly armored men with polearms asked Marcel. This suited me fine, I didn't want to speak with anyone. "Who? OH! Her!" Marcel had to figure out who was the one talking to him this time - coordinating the mass of people was his primary concern. "Malinka's the name. Showed up out of nowhere two days ago and saved our hides."

I felt a hand poke my shoulder and pain seared across my back, forcing a whimper of pain to escape my lips. "Oi. Name, affiliation, age and purpose of visit." The guard who inquired about me before prodded me. My voice was raspy due to everything hurting - I just wanted this to be over and done with. "Malin-"

My words were interrupted as Marcel stomped over and decked him in the face. "What the fuck are you doing?!" He seemed genuinely furious and I couldn't help but blink in surprise at the sheer aggression with which he chose to intervene. "She's barely alive after risking her life to protect your sorry ass! Don't poke her and make her suffer for no god damn reason!"

The guard was rubbing his cheek as Marcel chose to stand between him and me. A few seconds of stunned silence passed by before a third voice joined the discussion. Thomas sounded weak, as if he barely found the air to speak. "Treatment first.. then paperwork. If you reject her... you're rejecting all of us."

I felt like the everyone who was near was watching this debacle. 'Would they protect me like this even if they knew what I am?' I couldn't help but wonder - yet a warm feeling spread inside my chest nonetheless at the sheer loyalty my temporary comrades at arms were showing.

"But you said she showed up outta nowhere, how can you be su-" The guardsman argued back, only to be silenced when Marcel shouted louder. "She almost died keeping us alive! How is that so hard to understand?! I don't give a single fuck where she came from, or who she is 'cause she's a god damn hero in my book! Now move out of our way, we've got to get wounded inside."

'A... hero? Me?' I wasn't quite sure how he arrived at that conclusion but... it felt nice to be called that.

The stand off lasted only a few more seconds after that before the guardsman finally gave up and we three barely conscious were hauled inside. "I'll get my answers later." I heard him utter somewhere behind me.

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I've already spent over a week at the town's infirmary. Picked up a good few details too by just listening in on the conversation - the town's name was Larton and the asshat of a guardsman who got hit by Marcel was somehow the local guard captain. For whatever the rank actually counted.

The guards and mercs always had a difficult relationship - the guard's purpose was to keep people in line and enforce laws while mercs were problem solvers. Most of the time the problems they solved were torments, but sometimes someone particularly rich decided to put a bounty up. Overall, there was a lot of friction between them in general, and it seems that Larton's resident guards were particularly annoyed with Thomas's group. And them essentially demanding I be let inside without proper paperwork did not help.

Thomas told me several times to not worry about it - and honestly I couldn't find it in me to worry all too much. After all, what haunted me was something entirely different. Each night I had the same dream - the visitor kept coming back. It always popped up in whatever dream I was having, repeated its rhymed chants until I woke up in cold sweat. Each time the mark it left on my right hand burnt. Physically, I was getting better... but mentally I felt more exhausted with every passing day.

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A few days in they moved me to my own separate room because my nightmare induced bouts of panic kept waking up the other patients. I honestly tried to be quieter about it, but I can't exactly control what my body does while I'm asleep. Guilt was the only feeling I had left when they stuffed me into a side room.

Though, today Thomas decided it would be a good idea to visit me. "You look terrible." He stated simply as he closed the doors behind him and slowly hobbled to sit down on the bed next to mine.

"I feel awful. Do you need something?" There was no point denying the obvious. I felt like shit, but I didn't think there was any way I could properly explain how the nightly haunts and the near death experience kept coming back.

"Yes - I need to talk with you. That was your first battle, wasn't it? I've seen how you froze up. You were clearly very well trained, but lacked experience. Or am I wrong?" His voice was level as he scoured my face - as if he could find answers in my eyes. I don't think he could.

"So what if it was? Everyone got out alive, right?" I asked, before frowning at the realization that my tone was significantly more hostile than I intended it to be.

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "You fought well, but unlike me, you are still in that battle. That's why you keep waking up, isn't it?" The thing I wanted to tell him most of all was to mind his own business, but all I could see on his face was concern. So I stayed quiet and let him continue.

"I've had many recruits over the few years I've been doing this. Most die in their first battle. Most of those who survive the battlefield bring it home with them. Those recruits usually go one of three ways. First group demands to quit and I respect their choice."

His eyes shift to the floor as he speaks and I listen. "One of the girls who signed up only did so because her beloved wanted to join. They joined as a pair, and it was a mistake I didn't realize until it was too late. He died in battle, and she was left behind - ridden with guilt about being unable to protect the one person she cared about the most. She chose to leave my company, but to this day I pray for her wellbeing."

'Why is he telling me all this?'

"The second group bottles it all up and pretend they have the strength to move on. They try to smile. They think themselves capable of facing the horrors of what they experienced on their own. They never are, and it catches up with them - usually at the worst possible time."

I look away and instead choose to stare at the corner of my isolated room.

"The third group becomes lost. These people usually fought for some ideal, but when they were confronted with the horrors of what combat is like in reality and their convictions tested, they were found wanting." I felt my breath stiffen at his words. "You might notice there is no group that wasn't shaken by their first battle. We call our foes torments for a reason after all. To each of the people I've spoke with after their first battle, I've offered a choice. They may leave, and know that there is no shame in their choice. They persevered where so many others have failed and perished."

I caught my hand balling into a fist as a memory of mom laying on the floor, dead, flashed through my mind. Anger rose somewhere within me, but I kept on listening to him speak nonetheless.

"My only demand is that they let me hear it all. Shout at me if they wish to, or even hit me. I was their commander, and their burdens are mine too. You are not one of mine, but you risked your life to protect those who are. No matter how insane you might be feeling, no matter how burdensome your thoughts are, I want to extend you this courtesy. You've helped me and mine in our time of need. Now it is time for me to help you."

Silence filled the room as I stared into the corner I picked out earlier. Minutes passed, and yet he just sat there in silence, waiting. I thought about asking him to leave, but it felt wrong to do so. So we sat there for what must have been at least a few minutes before I finally caved in to the silent pressure of the quiet man behind me.

"Will you take this conversation to the grave?" I asked cautiously. I wasn't sure what I expected him to reply, but he replied instantly and with utter confidence. "Yes. With god as my witness I promise that unless you specifically wish otherwise, nobody will ever hear even a single thing you tell me here today."

I don't know why, but tears pooled underneath my eyes as I told him everything. This man - a stranger with whom I've shared nothing but a single battle. I told him everything I could remember, from how mom found me and eventually died to protect me. How Stein raised me, how I eventually forgave David for what he did. I told him my aspirations to join the hunters, to follow in mom's footsteps. And how weak I felt when I saw just how brutal and ugly the reality of it all was. I told him of the visitor and my recurring nightmares. I told him everything.

And he did not interrupt me a single time.