By the time we had returned to Lefke, the day had reached the edges of twilight transitioning into full night. But despite the darkness, the city remained swelling with crowds – in fact, more people lined the streets than during the afternoon today. On the main central street, stretching from the northern gate through the heart of the city to the southern gate, countless heads lined the sides, of which Metis, Shara and I were three. Armed guardsmen blocked the crowd from surging into the middle of the wide street, keeping it vacant. A buzz of conversations hummed all around us.

“…Is it her… What is someone like her doing here…”

“…The council must be running out of ideas… adventurers here aren’t as good as they used to be…”

“…I can’t wait to see her… Goddess bless her soul…”

The three of us found ourselves stuck in the packed crowd, and the people around us refused to budge. I gave a nudge to a middle-aged aproned woman next to me and mouthed “Excuse me”, but she only gave me an offended glare and nudged me back even harder. By the look she gave me, one would’ve thought I burned down her house right in front of her.

“Is it normally this crowded this time of day, Metis?” I gave up in trying to force my way out. The people surrounding us fixed themselves in their place like their life depended on it.

“No, it seems there’s a special occasion tonight. I can’t remember exactly why though?” Metis drummed her chin while in thought.

“Mayhaps it is a holiday? One in which a parade proceeds through the city and throws candy at the people lining the streets?” Shara added hopefully.

“No, I would know if it's a holiday here… Oh, wait, I remember, its–”

A blare of trumpets from the distance interrupted Metis, from the southward direction of Orson’s Wall. The excited humming of the crowd hushed into anticipatory silence, making the rumbling of marching audible. It turned louder and louder as its source came into view: two horse-mounted figures trotting slowly through the street, surrounded by a large procession of elaborately armored knights. A banner bearer in the front carried a familiar symbol – a symbol that caused me to grit my teeth on instinct: a gryphon with a sword in one hand and flag in the other. The symbol of the Holy Knights of the Goddess.

Both mounted figures were lined with a column of armored knights on both sides, capes heroically billowing in the wind. The moonlight reflected off of their brilliant silver armor, immersing them in a pale luster, as if these knights demanded the attention of every passerby.

The mounted figure in the front, on a black stallion, was a small, old, gray-haired man dressed in colorful robes. I gasped as my eyes rose up to see his head, and I rubbed my eyes to make sure of myself. Dog-like ears on top. Though his serene expression along with his attire gave him a noble air, there was no mistaking it no matter how many times I blinked: this was the old man from earlier, the one who showed me the Adventurer Guild and the Mage Guild. For a split second, he seemed to meet my eyes, an amused twinkle lighting up in them momentarily.

The second mounted figure behind him rode on a radiantly white horse. Atop was a woman who had somehow managed to dress more eloquently than the old man in front, wearing an embroidered buttoned waistcoat and breeches. A white, frilly fabric decorated her neck, which made for a fashionable contrast to her earthen brown skin and matched her long, silky white hair, locks as snowy white as my own. While her hair gave her a slightly ethereal, mysterious air, her toothy grin and large, warm brown eyes made her look altogether friendly and charming, a thought confirmed by the flocks of cheering people.

“Lady Archknight! Lady Archknight!” The crowds cried in unison. Many bowed their heads in reverence at the woman, while some others found themselves stuck staring, enchanted by her. I was amongst many staring at her, though the look I cast her way was different. It was a bitter look of hatred. Hatred of the symbol she wore, of the people she represented, of the way everyone bowed their heads to her. Maybe I was being unfair; I certainly didn’t know this woman or of the deeds she’d done. But, at that moment, she became a scapegoat in front of my eyes, an effigy to silently throw all my hatred towards.

“That was it,” Metis finally continued, her voice muffled, less so by the crowd’s chants but more due to the deafening heartbeats in my ears. “Holy Archknight Bradamant was due to visit Lefke today, and the elected Prince was to accompany her to his estates where she would stay.”

“Archknight?” I asked, my voice shaky. My mind had ignored the second part of her statement regarding the old man being the “elected Prince”, for all of what that meant.

“I don’t know the details, but that makes her high in the ranks of the Holy Church, above a regular Holy Knight. She’s probably got lands and subjects of her own under her name somewhere back in the west.”

I shook my head at her words. Though I knew it in the back of my mind, this extravagant display confirmed it: the Holy Knights had grown extremely powerful. Originally merely a group organized by the Church to fight in the Great Demon War, they were now heroes popular with the common folk and entrenched as elite. But then again, their rise was all but another ripple of my actions. Of course, the league of knights in shining armor whose founders were famed to have fought and won against the terrible Demon King Malachi would be celebrated. The continuing, enduring applause surrounding them would be enough to drown out any other opinion that said otherwise.

Would it make me the world’s evil once more if I opposed them? I knew the answer without a shadow of a doubt. But to let them rein free and unopposed after what they had done a year ago, that wasn’t even a choice in my mind.

A warm sensation of fingers wrapping around my clenched fist interrupted my heavy thoughts; it caused me to initially flinch but then slowly relax, and I turned my gaze. It was Shara. She had stepped closer, and she assured me with a rare expression of genuine concern. The contact made the heart pounding in my ears quieter, slowly fading into the background.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” I managed to whisper to her as I gently retrieved my hand.

“If you insist,” she whispered even more quietly, “though the look on your face is quite concerning. Do not be possessed by regretfully impulsive ideas.”

“I won’t. I learned that lesson long ago.” Or at least I wanted to believe I had.

The crowds began to disperse as the marching parade of armored knights faded into the distance. People began flowing into adjacent streets and alleyways, their interest disappearing in an instant, as if waking from a hypnotic trance.

“Let’s go, you two,” Metis said. “I mean no offense, but you two look ready to drop dead from fatigue. Some rest on a warm bed may do you good.”

“I can’t argue against that,” I chuckled tiredly, “lead the way.”

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***

I was dying.

Death was descending upon me, smiling like the cruel mistress she was. I escaped her once three hundred years ago, but as inevitably as winter approached every year, she had returned to fulfill her duty. Her chilling embrace wrapped around the very essence of my soul and welcomed me into the merciful arms of nothingness.

Oh, how comfortable the end felt after the miserable suffering that was life, life that I foolishly extended by my reincarnation. I relented to its approach and let myself slip into the deep, dark abys–

“Luqa, get up. We were supposed to meet them ten minutes ago.” The soft impact of a pillow descended on my head. But twas still too late. Death had grasped me in her arms to carry me away. “Luqa, enough of that, sleep can come later!”

“Ugh, fine…” Unfortunately, the Goddess of Death’s embrace wasn’t strong enough to resist the Gryphon Princess’s stubborn pulls, and I fell back into cruel, cruel reality. I threw off the warm pillow over me, yawned lazily, and stretched luxuriously, while the gryphon stood over me, pouting, crossing her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. My long, lazy stretches made me only more eager to slip back into sleep, and I slowly closed my eyes, ignoring the irritated smile of the girl before me.

The world became pitch black once more.

Hello, Goddess of Death. Shall we try this once more?

I was dying.

Death was descending upon m–

“Hahahahaha! Stop! Stop!” Every drop of sleepiness evaporated away as the terrible, horrible, dreadful, calamitous sensation of tickling descended upon me. Like spiders crawling all over my sides, Shara tickled me fiercely, while a sadistic glint shone from her eyes.

“This is your punishment for your impudence,” Shara hissed. “I have been attempting for twenty whole minutes to rouse you from your bed. Twenty minutes of this treatment shall be fair, no?”

“No! I’m sorry! I apologize with all my heart!”

“All of your heart?”

“All of it.”

“Then rise up!”

As quick as the northern wind, I was back on my feet, and back into the world of living. I shook off the nauseous vertigo pounding in my head and remembered where I was: an inn, neither cheap nor expensive, known as “the Gryphon’s Den”, to my gryphon companion’s delight. The open window showed the street below, illuminated by the full moon.

“I’m up, no more of your torture please,” I yawned, already missing my warm bed. “Are you that eager to stuff yourself with food, Shara?”

“Perhaps I am,” she said through a knife-like smirk. “And, more importantly, it is impolite to be absent to an invitation you have already agreed to.”

“I know that, I just couldn’t help it after sinking into that warm, fluffy bed. Too many days on the road have made me miss such comforts.”

“Yes, I understand the sentiment.” Her smile weakened as she continued examining me, turning from impish to sympathetic. “On closer examination, you look like you could do with more rest. Combined with your ashen hair and pale coloration, you are not far from the dead reanimated to life.”

“Really?” I rubbed my eyes, which admittedly felt oppressively heavy, and as did the rest of my body. If Shara hadn’t woken me, it wouldn’t be unlikely if I fell into a deep, long slumber. “Maybe today’s been wearing on me. Though the Weaponmaster Paladin would be shaking his head at me right now. I’ve come out less tired after much worse things during my training with him.”

“True, he must practically be clawing out of the earth in frustration right now. But perhaps it is interacting with people that has worn you out so much. You are quite the timid, reclusive boy, after all,” she teased.

“I’m too tired to even think of a retort that would amuse you,” I sighed. “You might even be right. I haven’t spoken this much to so many different people in such a short period of time in a while.”

“As have I, but you do not see me struggling to muster my energy for dinner. I am the more charismatic one between our duo, after all. Worry not, the sidekick need not fret about remaining in the shadow of his superior.”

“Hey! I’m the one who did most of the work today!” I complained.

“Then I am grateful that you were generous enough to do my work for me, my dear sidekick. Good boy, you performed splendidly!” she cooed, patting my head condescendingly.

“Ugh, I am still too tired to do this.”

Shara leaned in closer to me, her eyes becoming increasingly worried. “…Luqa, are you truly alright? In all honesty, your current condition is somewhat concerning. I have not seen you so worn out since… well, since your encounter with that masked servant of the Dragon.”

“You’re worried, huh? Did you suddenly decide to grow a heart today or something?” She shook her head at my statement, though a tiny smile crept up her face. “I’ll be fine. Some dinner will definitely do me good. And more importantly, we gotta make a good impression on the people who might help us become adventurers.”

“So now you choose to understand. Why do you think I was so adamant in waking you?” Shara huffed, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“Let the past be the past, my dear Princess,” I hummed tiredly, walked past her towards the door, and opened it. “Shall we be off? The night is still young, after all. Allow me to make it a time to remember.” I bowed gracefully while extending a hand towards her after taking off an imaginary glove.

“Idiotic brute.” She passed me, making a point of staring at my offered hand and declining it with a condescending grin. “Tis dreadful to see someone so lacking in charm straining himself so terribly hard to compensate.”

“Ouch. At least you can’t say I don’t try.”

We stepped into the dark torch-lit hallway, side-by-side, the muffled sounds of conversations growing louder and louder until we reached the staircase. It led down into a large, brightly-lit hall, tables and chairs around a long counter, overflowing with people. I scanned the room, taking it all in: cheers in unison before taking a swig, uncontrollable shared laughter, servers carrying platters and trying to squeeze through, a small audience’s cries of encouragement to two muscled men in a bout of arm wrestling – the sights and sounds all came together to form a bustling, lively atmosphere, one that I found overwhelming, yet relaxing at the same time.

My eyes landed upon the blues of Metis’s, sitting at a table in a far corner of the room, behind wooden columns. Once I recognized her, she stood out, mostly thanks to her especially tall frame. She smiled in recognition and waved at us, and we hurriedly approached, weaving through the tables and people.

“Hello. I hope your rest has been invigorating,” she said as we came in close view. There were two empty chairs opposite of her, and behind her sat two others. My eyebrows raised up in surprise as their faces came into view.

“Yes, I appreciate the free room, thanks again,” I said absentmindedly as I eyed Metis’s two companions.

Immediately behind Metis was a red-haired girl with fox-like ears. She propped her head in her hand, looking at us from the corner of her eye. Her large, expressive hazel eyes betrayed silent interest, despite her uninterested frown and avoidant eye-contact. There was no mistaking those features: it was the girl who had attempted to help me in the Mage Guild.

And immediately behind her was a man with long, messy, raven-black hair framing his strong features, broad shoulders and dark complexion. Unlike the girl, he looked at us eagerly and directly, grinning widely. He gripped a large mug of ale proudly, likely his third based on the two empty mugs in front of him. I recognized him quickly: he was the adventurer who defused my brawl with the drunkard in the Adventurer Guild and took him away.

I shared a knowing glance with Shara and we chuckled as we took our seats opposite of them, with the man to our left, Metis to our right, and the fox girl directly opposite.

“Hey, Luqa and Shara, right?” the man greeted cheerfully, his voice deep and rich. “So it was you two that our Metis was talking about, huh? I knew I’d see your faces again, though I didn’t know it would be this soon. The name’s Orlando and we’re the platinum-ranked adventurer party, Howling Fox.” He winked, and his grin grew even wider. “Pleased to meet ya.”