The shining metal armor stained in the reds of his people would never leave him. Nor did Taiga want it to. The flickers of orange flashing over cold eyes and stern faces were forever ingrained in him.

It wasn’t until years later, when his memory cleared, that Taiga recalled Elder Maymary’s meeting. Or that she had met with a knight of Lanria, not a mercenary. While their attackers were certainly of the latter, it was of no coincidence a knight visited them earlier in the day.

Maybe it was because they didn’t think there would be any survivors, or maybe it was arrogance which led them to bear their real armor and emblems that day. If they hadn’t though, Taiga likely wouldn’t have made the connection now.

Mercenaries are loyal to those who pay, no matter the emblem they wear.

While he could be sure it wasn’t the same mercenaries who harmed his people, as Taiga had seen to that years ago, the crown did enjoy using all tools at her disposal. Afterall, he and Mouse were proof of that.

“But why?” Mouse stabbed a stick into the dirt, drawing a line, which he’d repeated for the last few minutes. “I don’t get the why.”

Taiga shrugged. “I don’t know either. Maybe panic? Mass exodus? Either way, Queen Nolara knew there was an imbalance in the magics, and she didn’t tell us. That’s the only thing explaining the rise in demon sightings.”

They kept their voices low enough for the campfire between them and the snoozing merchants to drown them out. He’d waited until they’d all taken rest to their blankets and pillows before speaking of it to Mouse.

“Not surprising, considering it’s her, but it is frustrating.” Taiga sighed.

“So she uses the mercenaries to keep the demons under control, and also to make sure none of the locals get word out?” Mouse scratched his head, closed his eyes and contemplated. At least, Taiga thought he was.

Sweet Bun hummed quietly in her sleep. She spent most of the afternoon harassing Mouse. Linlao were known to be playful, but she seemed to take joy in messing with him specifically. Taiga wondered about such a personality, but he had bigger things to consider.

“I’m not sure. My guess is she’s using the Gale Order to keep the nobles quiet, and the mercenaries to keep things contained.”

“To what end?” Mouse went back to stabbing the ground with his stick.

“Us. Killing the Guardians or finding a way to stop their corruption. Or until she finds a way, maybe. It’s likely the imbalance in magics is the cause. But finding the source is the problem.”

“She’s buying time.” Mouse’s stick snapped, and he clicked his tongue at the piece in his hand.

“We are, too.” Taiga shrugged when Mouse looked at him, “buying time until we can find a way to save the Guardians.”

Something more was amiss, though he didn’t tell Mouse. Something about it, maybe it was too sneaky, too similar to how the Ganakri had been massacred, or just his own bias… but something told him there was more at play here. They just didn’t know what yet.

He let the music of the crickets and crackles of the fire fill the silence between them. He’d missed this; the peace before things got complicated.

“Taiga.”

The quiet in Mouse’s voice made him give full attention. “Yeah?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t visit Pnendua yet.”

Taiga paused, looking over at his friend who refused to look his way. He let the fire crackle, controlled in its small fire pit, surrounded by stones and dirt. “Okay.”

“If we go now, and can’t save them…”

“Okay.” he repeated, gentle as Mouse’s voice grew more agitated.

“I could tell,” his voice broke, “when Mafgnesn twisted me all up, and all the voices of all the Guardians flowed through them and into me. They don’t know, Taiga. They don’t know what’s happening or why.”

He’d made an effort to not ask. Mouse would tell him when he was ready. And though he told him now, Taiga still wasn’t sure Mouse was ready. The hints and subtleties until now were enough for him to have made a few guesses.

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“Okay.”

“I don’t know if I can help them right now. I want to go see them. But if we go and they’re already… I can’t.” His voice trailed off, and Taiga moved beside him, kneeling down and grabbing the broken piece of stick from the dirt.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll go when you’re ready, whether that’s now, or later.” When Taiga closed his eyes, he could still recall the child-sized Mouse huddled into the furs and feathers of the towering Guardian Spirit whom he called family.

He put an arm over Mouse’s shoulders, and knocked their heads together. “We’ll figure it out.”

As Mouse leaned into him, a blueish-white light caught Taiga’s sight, and he turned to see something glow gently on his hip. He pulled Mouse back a bit, catching his attention, and pointed to his side.

“Your sword.” Taiga waited for him to pull it out of his belt.

He did, and they marveled at the slight glow for a second. Then, remembering where they were, Taiga scanned the camp. A few snores and sleeping faces calmed him. He paused, waiting in silence a moment, studying any movement. Once sure none of them awoke, Taiga turned back to Mouse.

“It’s water,” Mouse whispered, eyes reflecting the ripples pouring from the sword. What started as wood had begun to shift into metal. The entire core turned solid, small waves of blue magic using the metal as its shore.

“Why water?” Taiga asked. The Anrix sword Mouse cultivated in knighthood had bulked due to his force, and burned his enemies at the touch of molten obsidian. Water felt so much more, well, gentle.

“From the Guardian? Mafgnesn? They showed me their death, and in turn it drowned me. I couldn’t escape the water.” He shrugged, though his voice drew quiet.

At a small thought, Taiga looked closely at it, turning the sword over. Down the core, which was metal on the other side, pink solidified ooze had hollowed the center and melded itself in its place. The blood of the Guardians.

Mouse said nothing, his eyes gently caressing it. He touched a finger to it, running it up and down the length of the sword. At the base, a snowflake of pink ooze, like a gem, embedded itself. The edges and tip were wood, the sword still in its growth phase.

Yet both of them could tell what form the sword began shaping itself into. Mouse’s ties and love for the Guardian Spirits, and the pain from their deaths, etched from his memories, took form in a way that would never leave the lost behind.

“I’m happy with this.” He nodded to himself, and brought the pommel, still wood, to his forehead. He tapped his head against it gently, whispering “thank you.”

“You’ll be careful with it now, right?” Taiga asked after giving him time to put the sword down, pat it, and breathe. “Now that the Anrix sword is starting to grow, people will be after it.”

Mouse nodded, cocking his head to the side, “what about yours?”

Taiga held up his wooden, flimsy toy. “Nothing.”

“Slow again?” Mouse cracked a smile, taking a moment to glance at Sweet Bun. She snoozed peacefully despite their talk.

“As expected.” After receiving his first Anrix sword when they became knights, it took close to eight months before it showed any changes. The captain had begun wondering if his sword was a dud at the time, with plans to replace it.

Taiga smiled at the thought. This one would likely be the same way. Though he hoped it wouldn’t take quite as long this time. He wasn’t sure he could survive many more fights with a piece of wood. Especially now with demons running amok.

Once the sun rose, Jonha and her husband served a warm bowl of soup for breakfast while she laughed and joked. Mouse shrunk behind him when she came near.

“She gave you caramels. You still don’t like her?”

“She’s too loud. Why are humans so noisy,” Mouse muttered back when Jonha was out of earshot.

After they started on the road again, Mouse took to running a short ways ahead, finding trees or rocks to climb up and survey the road. Though most of the area was farmland, clusters of trees and small hills made it difficult to see enough to respond quickly in case of emergencies.

At midday, Taiga took to checking ahead until Mouse begged for the position back. Apparently Jonha wasn’t the only loud human of the group, in his opinion. Taiga relented without fuss, and fell to the back of the group.

One of the kids, Taiga didn’t catch her name, ran around him with a wooden bird carving in her hand. Her height and hair color reminded him of Alika, though nothing beyond that did. She teased a younger boy, and they twirled around him as they played. He didn’t mind it, even if he wasn’t a huge fan of children in general.

Mouse knew how to play with kids, while Taiga usually refrained from joining them. A man from the driver’s seat of a carriage called for the girl, and she ran off, leaving the boy and Taiga alone.

“Do you want to play?” The boy of maybe six or so asked, displaying wood carvings of an ox and horse.

“Not overly.” Taiga eyed him as his arms drooped, though the boy said nothing. After a few seconds, he shook the rejection off, and spun around him again. Maybe he shouldn’t have switched positions with Mouse after all.

A breeze rushed over them, and one of the merchants cried out, chasing after her headscarf. Another merchant laughed, almost drowning out the whispers of the grass. He caught their warning, stretching over the dirt road to him.

“Demons! Call Mouse back!” He whirled around, pulling his wooden sword out, and stepping forward as the merchants squealed in confusion. They pulled away from him, and he heard one of the men yelling Mouse’s name from further ahead of them.

No demons stood on the path behind them, so he hopped to the ridge beyond the road to the right, where the grasses warning originated from. A few steps over a hill, he spotted blurred beasts moving across the field. He counted six at a glance, dancing between a few scattered trees.

Though they were slow at the start, two blue eyes found him, and cackled to the others. They darted towards him, sliding through the tall grasses with ease. He readied himself, steadied his feet.

“How many?” Mouse ran up beside him, sword already in hand.

“Six. Mouse, I can’t use the grasses. Not with them so close.”

He turned, nodding to the merchants. Two of the more muscled merchants stood in front of their more vulnerable companions, though they looked uneasy themselves. Brave, at least.

Mouse locked eyes with Taiga, “got it,” then bolted forward.