I couldn’t bring myself to rest much over the next few days. I knew that I’d lost most of the blood in my body several times over and needed to recover, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep working, I had to keep studying and practicing. I needed to finish the Ward Breaker in a way that I couldn’t properly describe. Ever since I’d gotten back from the manor, I was increasingly anxious about even being in Addersfield anymore. Knowing that I was inside the same walls as Magnus and I couldn’t stop him just yet was driving me mad. It was like an itch under my skin that couldn't be scratched.

I could tell that Grey and Azarus were becoming increasingly concerned for me, too. I know that what I was doing wasn’t healthy for me, but I couldn’t help myself. The work was becoming an obsession, and it needed to be finished. I tried to keep in mind that I wasn’t doing this only for myself but to free Grey from his bondage and Azarus from his family as well. But it was hard, knowing that as soon as I finished the Breaker, I could plan my re-infiltration of the manor. And ultimately?

My assassination of Magnus.

I’d had the right idea in those seconds before I’d left his chambers, I’d decided. I was going to use The Scintillant Blade. I’d hide in a position that would bring him near me, maybe even in his own room, and then I’d tear out his throat with a brilliantly burning dagger.

To that end, I’d decided I needed more practice with one. I’d been having trouble sleeping lately and had gotten up early again. I’d wanted to get more work done when I’d gotten the idea to try and make a practice dummy out behind the house. I wanted to be more comfortable with a knife before it came time to end Magnus. I’d grabbed an extra pillow and blanket and headed outside into the green period of dawn and scavenged some dead wood from the nearby copse of trees. After that, I’d fired up Aetherial Melding and got to work. I’d had an idea.

This wasn’t the first time I’d tried to use the Wildshaping part of Aetherial Melding, but it was likely the largest item I’d made so far. Before this, I’d only really made small carved figurines. In a way, it reminded me of a Fleshcraft meld. Plant matter like wood, I’d found, was easy to work with. Stone was a whole other, pain in the ass matter, but I digress. You typically wanted to work with dead wood anyway, so it responded well to my nudges and shaping. The fibers of the pillow and blanket weren’t hard to change shape, either. In no time, I’d woven together the various branches into a kind of curling cross shape that seemed sturdy enough. It had some hooks on it, and on those hooks, I fused the fabric of the pillow and the blanket together to form the rough shape of a dwarf. Into it, I stuffed plenty of fallen leaves and grass from the clearing around me.

When I was finished, I had…a sort of lumpy dwarven-looking scarecrow. I was breathing hard from the exertion of all the melding I’d done. I’d gotten much more used to the strain of using my Profession over the last few weeks though, so I recovered soon. I’d come a long way from passing out at making a simple weak potion.

I was startled out of my inspection of the dummy by a voice behind me.

“Nate?” I heard a tired-sounding voice call out groggily from the house. Turning around, I saw that the voice belonged to a bare-chested Azarus, leaning out of the window of his bedroom. I felt a small surge of guilt. All of my gathering and crafting must have woken him up. “What the hells are ya doing out here?”

I might have felt a little guilty, but I also saw this as an opportunity. I’d been wanting to ask Azarus for something.

I walked over to where Azarus was leaning out of the house and looked up. “Couldn’t sleep, so I started making something to practice on,” I called up to him. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

Azarus furrowed his tired brow down at me. “Yeah? What do ya need?”

“I want to pick up Dagger Proficiency,” I told him. “You said you knew how to all kinds of weapons, before, so I wondering if you’d be willing to help me get it.”

“Ain’t no ‘Dagger Proficiency’.” Azarus shook his head. “It’s Knife Proficiency. And why the hell would ya want to-” He stopped himself mid-sentence, face falling. “Oh. Yeah. I…guess I could do that. Give me a minute, and I’ll be down.” He disappeared back into his room and shut his window behind him. I remained staring at the window for a moment in contemplation, though.

Was it fucked up of me to ask someone to train me to kill his own cousin? Yes. Was I still doing it anyway? Also yes.

I’d make it up to him later.

………………………………………

Azarus kept to his word and came out to meet me dressed for practice a few minutes later. He gave my hastily put-together, slapdash training dummy a bit of a side eye, but incorporated it into his training anyway. For the next several hours, Azarus ran me through the knife-fighting drills that he knew. He taught me how to strike and how to slash properly. How to parry with a fighting dagger, and how to disarm an opponent. He even had me demonstrate my strikes and stabs on the dummy. With visible reluctance, he pointed out the best areas on the pseudo-dwarf to aim for. Either to debilitate my opponent, or to strike a fatal blow.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I paid more attention to the second one.

We only really stopped for the day once Grey woke up and poked his baffled head outside the back door to ask what we were doing. That was fine though, as by that time I’d managed to pick up Knife Proficiency. Only at level one, but that was enough for now. I wasn’t looking to get into a knockdown drag-out fight with Magnus. He was still over fifty levels above me, and I’d get demolished in a straight brawl.

But for an assassination? One that involved my skill that seemed to penetrate all defenses and level differences?

It would do.

………………………………………

Despite how determined I was to finish making the Ward Breaker, I couldn’t work on it all the time. I just didn’t have the stamina or strength. I needed some kind of break, and I knew what I was going to do. Ever since my encounter with the guard after I left the manor, I’d been wondering if he’d checked my alibi with Van. I’d told him that I was coming home from a long day working at the butcher's, and it seemed like he had bought it. But I wanted to be sure.

Grey was working on some more items and potions for Prince Anguis when I left, and Azarus was in the forge, as he usually was. Despite how close we were to escape in general, Grey thought it was a good idea to not arouse any suspicion by stopping his work and regular deliveries. I let Grey know where I was going and left him to it, and headed out. After a short walk along the side path, I emerged out on the far side of town. I was…a little surprised at what I saw.

The town was busier than I had ever seen it. I slowed before I entered the main thoroughfare, hiding behind a building to check it out. It looked like the townspeople had been whipped up into a frenzy. There were people running back and forth carrying supplies and barking orders at their slaves doing the grunt work. I saw multiple teams of slaves carrying around large pieces of furniture and carting them off down the other side path. The one that ran down the opposite, right side of the manor that I’d found the servant's entrance on. In fact, here one came.

I flattened myself against the side of the building I was hiding against and prayed I wasn’t noticed by the Overseer that was directing the team of slaves. I needn’t have bothered though; they didn’t once even look in my direction. They just continued carrying what looked like a large bench down the other side of the manor.

All right, this was giving me a bad feeling. I needed to get back to Azarus’s place and let the guys know something was up. I could try going back to Van’s place another time. Before I left, I risked another glance down the main thoroughfare. I nearly felt my heart stop in shock at what I saw.

A group of guards were dragging Bleddyn out of Van’s shop.

I was just barely able to see it from where I was, but the commotion was drawing attention from the rest of the street. A pair of guards were holding a struggling Bleddyn by his arms and force marching him out of the building. No matter how hard Bleddyn struggled though, he wasn’t able to budge the grip of the two armored dwarves. They still had their Status after all, while Bleddyn’s had been stolen from him.

Staggering out of the building behind him was an injured Vandimar. He had blood running down the left side of his face, and a rapidly swelling purple knot on his cheek. Despite this, he was dogging the steps of the guards, visibly pleading with them. I was too far away to hear what he was saying. They didn’t seem to be paying him any mind, however. In the still-open doorway of the shop, I could see the frightened face of Rachel peaking around the frame.

Somehow, even across this distance, Bleddyn and I managed to lock eyes. He stopped struggling long enough for his own to widen in horror. Slowly, carefully he tried to mouth something to me. Despite the language barrier that separated us, crossed only by a skill, I was still able to understand him.

‘Look out.’

His warning came too late.

“Well, well, what do we have here,” I heard behind me. I stiffened in surprise. I hadn’t heard anyone sneaking up on me, considering the attention I’d been paying to Bleddyn. “Could it be a slave trying to dodge the ‘festivities’?” The voice asked mockingly, followed shortly by a few separate snickers.

Slowly, dreading what I would find, I turned around.

There was a group of Addersfield guards behind me. Three in total, I even recognized a few of them. The speaker was the guard that had backhanded me all those weeks ago when I had learned Wildshaping. I didn’t recognize the second, but the third was the guard I had lied to the other night.

He recognized me, as well.

“Hey, wait a second,” He said, pushing to the front of the group. “I know this one. It’s Lord Azarus’s.” He glanced over at the leader of the group. “Aren’t we supposed to…?” He trailed off.

The leader peered at me closer. He smirked. “I do believe you’re right, Corporal Rossi. I recognize him now. That is Lord Azarus’s slave. Bad luck, meat.” He said, advancing on me.

I didn’t give him the chance. Ducking under his open fist as it swiped at me, I turned to run back to Azarus’s. I didn’t know what was going on and I didn’t know what these guards wanted. But I wasn’t inclined to find out. Azarus had told me what to do if anything like this ever happened, and it was pretty much ‘let me handle it’. I had to get back to his house.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get very far. Halfway back to the entrance to the side path, I was hit by a side tackle from the guard I didn’t recognize. We flew several feet horizontally before crashing into the dirt. The breath was knocked out of me from the impact, and the world spun as the guard held me down.

As I stared upwards, dazed, the leader of these guards appeared above me. He was smirking and shaking his head as if my attempt to escape them was one big joke. “Nice try. But now it’s time for lights out.” He said mockingly, rearing back his armor-clad right foot.

I didn’t even get the chance to scream before the boot struck the side of my head, robbing me of consciousness.

The world went dark.