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Chapter 11-Always

Nevan walked on the road between the snow-covered forest, holding the lead rope of his commander’s horse. He had bought himself some winter clothing and light leather armor instead of metal plate, trying to preserve his already diminished funds. The two war hammers he had purchased from the local blacksmith were masterfully forged, costing him a large portion of his gold. The hammers clang with his standard-issue sword on his belt as he walked.

One of the caravan wheels’ chains snapped, and the coachman brought the wagon to a stop. Elnor dismounted her horse and went to check with the coachman. “Should only take a few minutes,” the driver said as he moved to the back of the wagon to retrieve one of the spare chains.

“We don’t have a few minutes,” Elnor said. “Nevan, get ready. They’re coming.” She picked up the coachman with one hand and tossed him inside the carriage. “Stay inside, Qamar,” she ordered the man.

Nevan nodded and unclipped the hammers on his belt. Elnor had previously warned him that bandits were tailing them, waiting for a chance to steal the steel ingots they had brought in the carriage. A few moments later, he heard the barks of sled dogs and the skid of runners on snow. Three sleighs were coming towards them from both sides of the road each. Nevan unsheathed his sword and passed it to Elnor. It would be much easier to clean the blood off the smaller blade than the large one that she carried.

“I’ll take the ones in front,” Nevan said to his commander. She nodded and made her way towards the back of the wagon.

Nevan held both hammers in each hand as the bandits came to a halt not far from him. There were six of them, all armed with swords. He could not tell if the bandits wore armor due to the thick black fur coats they wore. They got off their sleigh, and one of them walked towards him confidently. “Surrender and we might…” the bandit was cut off as the spike of a hammer that Nevan threw sunk in her face.

Nevan dashed towards the one closest to him. Surprised by the sudden death of one of their members, the bandit was too slow to react. His hammer struck the bandit's head as Nevan reached them, splattering bits of brain matter on the white road. Some of the blood stained Nevan’s already blood-soaked coat. These bandits were not the first group he and Elnor encountered on the first day of their journey. He questioned himself inwardly on why he ever thought a white coat was suitable for this occasion. He moved towards the rest, making quick work of them until only one was left.

The last bandit’s sword was shaking in their hand as Nevan approached. As he got closer, they swung their blade horizontally. He ducked underneath the slash, and the bandit’s body turned sideways, carried by the momentum of their swing. He implanted the spike tips of his hammers on their back and pulled down, unzipping the bandit’s back. Finished with his side of the road, Nevan turned to find Elnor already finished with hers. She was standing next to the wagon, eyeing him. Behind her was Qamar, already working on replacing the chains of the wheel that had previously snapped.

“The sun will be setting soon. We’ll camp here for the night,” Elnor said, returning her bloodied sword to Nevan. “Prepare a fire and set up our tent.”

“The dogs?” he asked tiredly.

“Release them.”

The night was already dark when Nevan had finished setting up their tent in the forest by the road. It was not large, but big enough to fit the two of them. He was scrubbing the dried blood off his weapons by the fire when Elnor joined him. She carried a crossbow in one hand and a dead fox in the other, placing them on the ground as she sat.

“Help me unstrap,” Elnor said, removing her outer coat to reveal her clean armor underneath. Nevan placed his sword down and moved to kneel behind her. He was unbuckling the straps on her side when he noticed the scar underneath her left eye. During the day, it looked faint, but by the fire, he could make out how deep the wound must have been.

Elnor watched the orange sparks of the flames turning into smoke as her squire removed her armor.

“You never got that healed?” he asked as he removed the last piece off of her. She grabbed her coat, putting it back on, before pulling out a small dagger from her belt. She took the fox and began to skin it, not answering his question.

“This one,” Nevan quietly said as he brushed a finger underneath her left eye. She felt his cold finger touching her warm skin and unconsciously stopped what she was doing. He pulled his finger away as fast as he had placed it.

“No,” she said softly, continuing to skin the dead animal.

“Why not?”

She did not answer immediately. Her squire moved to sit at her side and began to clean his weapons.

“It was too late by the time I visited the healer.” She said, remembering the hours she had spent underground holding Leo’s body.

“Regeneration stones?” he asked, surprised that a commander would not have had one.

“Gave it to my dead squire,” she ceased skinning the fox to look at him in the eye. “And they still leave scars.”

Nevan looked away. ‘How could he have forgotten?’ He had a scar to prove it. He did not say anything else, and they both continued to work in silence.

Elnor threw the last one of the fox’s bones into the fire. Qamar had joined them to eat and then had left to sleep in the wagon.

“Where are we going?” Nevan asked before taking a drink from their water skin.

“We’re heading to Fort Nusa. It’s in Tual. We’re going to drop off some of the ingots we brought.”

“And then?”

“We wait for our orders there. General Ahri will send a pigeon. In the meantime, we’ll see if we could be of any help there.” She answered, accepting the water skin from Nevan.

Nevan thought about the city of Tual. There were no sightings of the noble thief in that particular city, but there was a prison. Maybe he would find one of her victims among the prisoners.

“Clean this up. I’m going to get some rest.” Elnor stood up and made her way into the tent.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once he had finished cleaning his weapons, Nevan extinguished the fire. He could see the mist coming out of his mouth as he breathed. He held the thief’s sigil inside his pocket while he shivered in the cold. After packing all their things, he went into the tent to get some sleep.

Elnor slept, facing away from her squire. She woke up from nightmares a few times that night. She wondered why her past continued to haunt her every night. The eyes of those who had died always appeared in her dreams as soon as she had forgotten about them, reminding her of her failures.

The next day at midday, they reached Fort Nusa. The fort was much smaller when compared to the one in the capital. The guard had not allowed them entry when they arrived but quickly apologized as soon as Elnor showed him her commander badge.

“Apologies, Commander. There has been increasing activity of bandits around here, ever since the war started.” The guard said to her as she entered.

“Tell me, soldier. Since when did the bandits become so organized?” she asked.

“Only recently, ma’am. There have been more movements of goods around, and we don’t have the numbers to protect the whole road.”

“That makes sense,” she nodded.

“I hope you didn’t run into much trouble on your way, ma’am,” the guard added.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. Where’s Commander Galen?”

“Dead, ma’am.”

Elnor looked at the guard, waiting for him to continue.

“Bandits, ma’am. They had sorcerers with them. They killed his entire entourage when he was returning from the farmlands with the supplies they had bought. ”

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“Sorcerers?” she asked, surprised. “Since when do these bandits have sorcerers?”

“Since the draft started, many sorcerers ran away and joined the bandits to avoid the war. Ma’am.” The guard added the last word after seeing Elnor’s grim expression.

“So who’s in charge now?” she asked the guard.

“Sir Zirak, ma’am. He’s at the commander's office on the top floor. Would you like me to show you the way?”

“Not necessary. You go and help the coachman unload the ingots. I can find the way on my own.”

“Yes, Commander,” the guard saluted.

“Ishan,” she called out to her squire, who immediately left the coachman to be by her side as the guard replaced him. “Let's go.”

They made their way up the small castle and towards the commander's office. Elnor knocked once and immediately entered. She saw Sir Zirak, who immediately saluted when he saw the commander badge she had tied on her left tricep.

“Commander,” Sir Zirak said, placing down the report he was reading.

“Sir Zirak,” she nodded. “My name is Commander Elnor, and this is my squire, Ishan.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you here,” Sir Zirak said.

“Anything I could help you with?” she asked.

“Yes, Commander Elnor. I’d be very grateful if you could take charge of this fort.”

“And why is that?” she raised an eyebrow.

“I worked in the logistics department before this,” he pointed to the piles of reports on the desk. “I’m not familiar with the general operations of a fort.”

“Then why did the knights vote you as their leader?”

“I’m the most educated one here. But even so, I haven’t had enough time to familiarize myself with the operations of the fort. And while I’m trying to do so, trouble keeps piling up.”

Elnor nudged her head to one side, signaling the knight to move. “I’ll take over while I’m here, but we’re leaving as soon as we receive our orders from the General.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Sir Zirak said as he moved away from the desk to stand in front of Nevan.

Elnor sat on the desk, skimming through the documents. “Is there something in particular that I should handle first?”

“The bandits have been a thorn in our side for a long time, Commander. But there’s a new group recently, and they have sorcerers.”

“Have you located this group?”

“Yes, Commander. They call themselves Sparrows, after the mask the noble thief wears.”

Elnor’s grip on the paper she held tightened, crumpling it. Sir Zirak stopped, surprised by her reaction. “Continue,” she said.

“Their base of operations is the prison. They took over it.”

“Why have there been no reports about this sent to the capital?” She raised her voice.

Sir Zirak gulped. “Late Commander Galen thought he could manage it on his own. He ordered us not to report it.”

“Well, he’s a fool! And you.” She stared down at the knight from her desk. “What’s your reason?”

“I..I… I don’t know,” Sir Zirak nervously said. “I just didn’t think of it.”

“Get out!” Elnor yelled. “Send a report to the capital. They’ll send a more competent knight to take charge here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sir Zirak saluted before quickly leaving the angered Commander alone with her squire. He inwardly felt relieved that he was no longer in charge.

“That’s not normal, is it? For a knight to forget to send a report.” Nevan asked once they were alone, emphasizing the word ‘forget.’

“No,” Elnor answered him. “Most likely, one of the bandits’ visioners got to him.” She read the reports on the Sparrows. The bandits had four sorcerers among their twelve members: one visioner, one water elementalist, and two augmenters. ‘Is this what my mistake inspired people to become?’ she thought.

“I’ll go,” Nevan said.

“No,” Elnor immediately replied. “We’ll go.”

“With all due respect, Commander, they need you here.” Her squire pointed to the massive pile of documents on the desk. “And we both know I can handle this.”

“Too dangerous,” she dismissed his idea. “They have sorcerers,” she said as she wrote a message on a piece of paper for the capital.

“Commander, please,” her squire pleaded. “I doubt their sorcerers are competent. And I’m a master of the war hammers. I’ll be back by sundown.”

“No!” she shouted at her disobedient squire, stopping what she was currently writing to look at him.

“Please,” he pleaded again. “Trust me.”

She looked at the grey eyes of her squire and frowned. His eyes burned with determination. She wondered when was the last time she had seen eyes as fierce as his. “Fine.” She finally said. “But if you don’t return by sundown, I’m gathering all the knights here to destroy that place.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” her squire said before turning to leave.

“Ishan,” she called out to him before he could exit.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Return to me.”

“I will.”

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Nevan took one of the horses available and made his way towards the prison. The stone prison was covered in snow, and the grey structure was somewhat beautiful when contrasted with the white. He embodied Caro, preventing any visioners from affecting him. The muscles on his arms twitched, eager to bash the brains of the bandits.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you,” said a bandit who was standing on the roof. There were many of them there, all wearing a red sparrow mask. Some of their masks were ornate, obviously stolen.

Nevan dismounted the horse and walked towards the prison gate. A whistle rang through the air, and he stepped sidewards, avoiding the incoming crossbow bolt. More bolts and arrows came his way, but he avoided them and continued to walk with a war hammer in each hand. He heard shouts and stomping of boots as the bandits prepared themselves for battle. When he reached the gate, he shouted towards the bandits. “I want to see your leader!” His voice was muffled by the red cloth he used to cover his face.

“The noble thief does not need to meet the likes of you!” one of them shouted back.

Angered, Nevan transmuted tenaga and kicked the gates open. He cracked his neck to each side as he entered. “So be it,” he said, rushing towards the incoming bandits.

Nevan massacred his way through the prison. The bandits, who mostly had never received formal training, did not stand a chance. The once grey walls and white courtyard were stained in blood and organs. There were a few more bandits than the report stated. Some of the prisoners had probably decided to join the Sparrows rather than waste away in their cells. He followed the retreating bandits, butchering as he went. He went up the spiral staircase, and one of them rushed down towards him with a spear. He ducked and lifted the man over the railings. The man never made it to the ground floor. The man’s back bent outwards as the center of his back snapped on the bar of the lower staircase.

Nevan made his way to the top floor. Some bandits surrendered and threw down their weapons once they saw the bloody monster coming towards them. He locked them inside an empty cell. “You won’t like it if I come back and find this cell empty,” he said to them, and they nodded furiously.

He continued to walk towards the warden’s office located at the end of the corridor, killing anyone in his path. In front of the office were four bandits with the most ornate masks and expensive swords he had encountered. The water elementalist had a shard of ice floating in each hand while the augmenters transmuted tenaga. The augmenters grew taller, now standing higher than Nevan. He could tell which of them was the visioner- the one visibly terrified in the back.

The augmenters charged, and Nevan did the same. They may have been augmenters, but Nevan out-skilled them completely. It was not a fight- it was an execution. He first crushed the incoming bandits’ kneecaps before doing the same to their faces. The two headless bodies fell to the stone floor with a thump.

“You!” the elementalists said, firing ice shards towards him.

He easily dodged the incoming shards and pinned the elementalist’s neck on the wall with his left forearm. He was about to smash the elementalist’s head before the visioner called out.

“Please don’t!” the visioner shouted, dropping his sword. Nevan stopped his hammer inches from the elementalist’s head and turned towards the source of the voice. “We surrender.” The visioner said. “Please don’t hurt her.”

Nevan turned to face the elementalist. “Do you surrender?” he whispered.

“Never,” the elementalist replied. “You killed my friends.” Her eyes met his. He had seen that kind of eyes numerous times in Nirvana. The eyes of someone that would gladly sacrifice their life for vengeance.

“Please don’t. She is all I have left.” The visioner begged, taking off his mask. He was young, Nevan realized, far too young.

Nevan struck the elementalist’s head with the handle of his hammer, knocking her out. He dropped the girl to the floor, and the visioner rushed to her side. “She’s alive,” Nevan said. “Use your abilities and make sure she doesn’t remember this if you wish her to live.”

“Thank you,” the visioner said.

“Don’t thank me. Leave this place and go as far away as you can. And try to live an honest life.” Nevan left the two. He was not able to strike the elementalist down once he saw the boy’s eyes. It reminded Nevan of himself when he had begged the noble thief. Neither the two sorcerers nor Nevan would ever know it, but at that moment, the fate of the visioner and elementalist was forever changed.

Nevan made his way into the office. The door was locked, but he kicked it down anyway. A man stood inside, holding a two-handed sword. The man wore a red sparrow mask decorated with gold beads.

“Where’s the noble thief?” Nevan asked.

“You’re looking straight at him,” the man said.

Nevan dashed and disarmed the man easily. The sword clang as it fell on the floor. He placed the sharp tip of his hammer on the man’s neck. “I won’t ask again. Where’s the noble thief?”

“I don’t know,” the man said fearfully, lifting his two hands on either side to show that he held no weapons.

“WHERE IS SHE?” Nevan shouted, slamming a hammer on the man’s foot. The man screamed and crumpled to the floor, cradling his injured foot.

“I don’t know,” he yelled in pain.

Nevan removed the man’s mask, revealing the crying face underneath. “Please.” The man begged.

“One of your men said the noble thief was here!”

“They’re talking about me,” the man replied.

“Have you ever even seen the noble thief?” Nevan bent low so their eyes could meet.

“Once,” he nodded. “The thief stole my money.”

“When and where?”

“In Sukar, a year ago.”

“Baron Yusuf,” Nevan recalled. “You increased the interest of the debt your citizens owed to you and threatened to take everything they had.”

“How… do… you… know?” the baron stuttered nervously, still holding his injured foot. “Who… are you?”

Baron Yusuf’s body hung naked down the roof of the prison, over the gate. Nevan watched him with his horse outside. He only left once the baron’s face turned blue, and the faeces dropped. He did not do it due to his sense of justice for the crime that the baron had done. He had killed the man in such a manner out of spite for giving him a false lead.

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Elnor stood by the window, watching the bright sky from her office, when someone knocked on the door. Her squire entered without waiting for her permission. She would have scolded any other person, but she did not mind if it was him.

“I’m back,” Nevan said to her as he entered. He had made sure the first thing he did when he reached the fort was to report to his Commander.

“Good,” she replied, returning to her desk to resume her work. “Do we have to worry about the Sparrows anymore?”

“No. We don’t.”

That very day, what was left of the Sparrows made their way towards the capital. They were going to enlist themselves in the Knights of Ronan, too frightened to think of doing anything else.