Alter had a few moments to collect himself before the pair were ready to talk to him. In that time he needed to sort a few things out in his head. First question, what were they? Soldiers certainly, that was one illusion he dared not run the risk of breaking. He couldn’t tie themselves to any one nation, he didn’t know if the countries he knew existed here. Anyway, his boys came from a variety of places and their accents reflected that fact. No, claiming to be an official military unit was out of the question. Mercenaries then? It fit their profile, and it would make sense for them to be both multinational and available for hire. However, Alter didn’t know how mercenaries would be viewed, particularly by suspected nobility who might turn their noses up at such designations. Private Military Contractors? Labelling themselves as a PMC might be too ‘modern’, anyway the thought of calling himself a member of such a company didn’t sit well with him given real world events. Freelancers? That worked, Alter hoped it would translate.

Next question, who were they? Who was he? For better or worse he was the leader of the group and if he conducted himself in that manner then it would be expected that he’d have a rank to match. Captain would work nicely. Most of his men referred to each other by their usernames, even in this new reality, so he’d keep the ‘Alterfate’ name for now. In terms of organisational name, their group had been under the banner of ‘RGS’, an old clan tag which has been around so long that its founding members have drifted away and most of its current members have no memory of what it actually means. Officially, the acronym stood for ‘Risk-takers Gaming Series’. Alter, along with Riptide, had been around long enough to know that it had started out as the ‘Republic of Glue Sniffers’ … He was not about to revive that title.

Alright, he was Captain Alterfate of the freelance company known as ‘RGS’. His unit had been travelling through the area when they had spotted their flight from the bandits and decided to intervene. He needed to impress upon them the fact that he’d saved their lives and find some way to bring up the idea of officially taking them on. If they were to start asking questions then he couldn’t say where they were from, going, or where they had been. He was willing to admit that he wasn’t using his real name for the sake of security, but only if they pushed him on that topic. He couldn’t explain their equipment, at least not in any detail. The corners of his mouth tightened in frustration as he ran through his mental checklist, this all sounded suspicious as hell, he wouldn’t buy it. Nevertheless, being suspect was better than sounding insane and he sure wasn’t going to claim that they had all been simultaneously struck with amnesia.

The teenagers rose slowly, the boy supporting the girl as she made tentative efforts to rise. Eyes of concern met eyes of discomfort for a couple of tender seconds before both slowly turned towards him.

The Boy in the Blue Uniform

The plan had fallen apart, they had frantically tried to rearrange each piece into a more cohesive form but once again the structure had collapsed. Now he found himself surrounded by discorded pieces scattered to the floor, only this time there was blood mixed among the wreckage.

His heart thrashed against the prison of his chest as he watched Lucille’s eyes slowly open, that strange ‘Jolt’ needle she’d been given seemed to be working. He took a ragged breath as she began to stir, his eyes tore themselves away from her face and settled on the tiny bottle clutched in his trembling hand. Such a strange design, so simple yet elaborate. The glass, if it truly was glass, was stained to near black. A white label attached to the side listed dozens of complex words he’d never seen before in a rainbow of coloured inks making letters printed smaller than any book he’d read. A faint cough brought his attention back, she was awake! He twisted the odd grey lid of the bottle and brought it towards her mouth. He knew he shouldn’t blindly trust these men in their unknown uniforms, but he’d seen the riderless horse thunder past them and the man who had dressed Lucille’s wound had done so with genuine concern on his face.

Too late for doubts now though, he had to help her. Lucille accepted the blue liquid flowing from the bottle before she wretched and coughed against his chest. Fortunately it seemed that she had managed to drink it all, the colour that had completely disappeared from her face was beginning to gently reappear. He breathing, whilst still laboured, was noticeably steadier now. He clasped her hand in his and felt for the pulse of her heartbeat, his shoulders sagged in relief at the sensation of a steady thrum at his fingertips. She was going to be alright, this bitter day wasn’t totally surrendered to disaster.

“Oliver?” She whispered as she regained her strength.

“Yes, I’m here.” He answered softly, as with great care he lifted her into a sitting position.

“Where are we?” Lucille’s head slowly swivelled as she took in her surroundings.

“We’re still in the Adderbites, but we’re not being chased any more.”

“Who are they?” She was looking at the three men who stood murmuring to each other a dozen metres away.

“Soldiers, I think. They took care of those raiders who were after us and gave you medicine too, it’s why you're awake now.” He explained.

“But there shouldn’t be any soldiers out here.”

“I know. There’s a lot that I don’t understand about them, but they could’ve just watched as we went by. I think we can trust them not to hurt us.”

At that moment the three strangers finished their quiet conversation. The third man who had arrived from up the hill turned to look at them, his brow furrowed in thought. He seemed to be struggling with whatever he was occupied with, probably what to do with them both. Lucille shifted against him as she tried to stand.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Help me up, would you?” She asked, the familiar steel in her voice gave him no real alternative.

With his support she stood and took a couple of small ginger steps before nodding to herself. Oliver was amazed at her recovery rate, what had he fed her? Another couple of minutes of this progress and it would be like she was never in pain. The crunch of gravel brought his attention back to their saviours and Oliver moved to meet them, eyes seeking clues as to their identity.

He decided to work from the ground up. Thick laced boots made of a coarse looking fabric coloured to match the ground. Trousers made of a similar material with a varied palette of colour again matching their surroundings. Their waists were covered by pouches and small scabbards holding various objects, Oliver recognised the knife sheaths but the rest were mysteries. The chests were again covered in the same material, and again they were concealed with pouches seemingly woven into the fabric. Oliver could see hard points and sharp lines poking from beneath the surface, so these men were in fact wearing a type of armour, albeit of style he’d never encountered before. He could see no markings, crests or sigils, however two of the men were somewhat embellished. The man who had shouted to them on the road had single dark orange stripes around his sleeves, the one now facing him had two. Did that make them leaders? Their heads were partially obscured by ground coloured helmets with straps tight under their chins, all of them had strangely shaped objects attached to their right ears. However, it was what their thick gloved hands held that gave him the greatest reason to pause, enigmatic black metal constructions. They were weapons, they had to be, but he just couldn’t see how they would work. Then there was the question of those awful sounds he had heard, were these devices responsible for that?

Lucille moved up and stood beside him as the third man stepped up, slinging his black device across his shoulder with a leather looking strap. He briefly fiddled with the strap under his chin, releasing the central clasp before removing the helmet and tucking it under his arm. Oliver looked closely at his face, he was older than him by at least ten years, his brown hair was cut short matching the neatly trimmed reddish beard. Chestnut eyes gazed at them steadily for a moment before he spoke.

“Apologies for the delayed greeting Sir, Madame. My name is Captain Alterfate, at your service. You’re both quite lucky to be alive.” He offered a small smile.

Oliver returned with a well trained smile of his own. This ‘Captain Alterfate’ at least knew a proper greeting, although Oliver was fairly certain that wasn’t his real name. The accent was difficult but he swore that he had heard it somewhere before.

“Thank you, Captain. And give my thanks to your healer too.” He replied simply, wanting to get a little more out of this man before mentioning his own name.

“I’ll be sure to pass it on.” Alter nodded before turning to Lucille. “How are you feeling Ma’am?”

“Lady.” Lucille corrected “And I am feeling much relieved.”

Oliver was worried that her terseness might offend the Captain, but he seemed to be taking it well in his stride.

“As you wish, Lady.” He offered a short bow. “Might I ask why you were being pursued?”

Oliver pursed his lips, the moment was fast approaching where he would have to decide to trust these people. He felt a quiet squeeze of his hand as Lucille leaned in and nodded. Well, that was that decision made.

“We were travelling westward towards Piranette when we came under attack from those raiders. We tried to fight them off but there were too many, our escorts gave their lives to buy us the time we needed to escape. We fled on horseback but as you saw it wasn’t going to be enough.” Oliver explained.

The Captain looked relieved as the story was recanted.

“What will you do now?” He asked.

“Try and make it out of the Badlands. There’s a borderpost a few hours' ride along the road from here.”

“What of your escort?”

“It’s too risky for us to return, I only pray that their bodies are not desecrated. We had a carriage with us but I’m fairly certain I saw a raider throw a torch into it as we escaped. It’ll be a pile of cinders by now.”

Oliver felt the sting of his own words as they left his lips. They were his responsibility, loyally following his orders as he chose to take the most dangerous road. He would need to compensate their families, letters and parcels he dreaded to write. Silence had taken a hold of the conversation, but to his surprise it was Lucille who broke the quiet with a loud inhale.

“Chloe!” She gasped, hands moving to cover her mouth, her eyes widening in shock.

Chloe was her handmaid and child companion, the two had been together for as long as Oliver could remember. How could they have forgotten that she was riding the carriage with them?

“Someone dear to you?” Captain Alterfate asked, his face turning serious and businesslike.

“My maid.” Lucille answered before turning to Oliver “We have to go back!”

“My lady, I don’t think that’s-” He began, staggered by her sudden shout.

“I’m not leaving her to those beasts!” She pulled away and glared at him.

Oliver let his arms hang at his sides. She wasn’t going to let this go, he knew her too well. But this was too dangerous for them to go back alone. He looked over at the Captain and for a split second saw something strange flash across his face. Triumph? Satisfaction? Whatever it was it had been quickly hidden.

“I’m sorry to impose, Captain. Would you be able to help us?” He asked as he searched the man’s face for any other mask-slips.

“We stand ready to assist.” He responded confidently.

Oliver consented and held out his hand for the other man to shake.

“Then we are in your debt. However, before we talk any further, there’s something I need to confirm.” He said.

“What do you need to know?” Alter asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice as he shook his hand

“Just look into

my eyes for a moment.” Oliver responded. He reached for the fire within him and wished for the power to burn away doubt.

Captain Luke ‘Alterfate’ Ploughman

Alter did not like what he was seeing. Not one bit.

‘His eyes are glowing. Why are his eyes glowing? That is some magic bullshit and I am in no way ready for this.’