--- Roric

It was dawning when Roric finally spotted Aregat in the distance.

He had traveled without barely any stop, just to keep his mind away from the memories of the past days. After the long hike his legs were about to give up and the sword weighed like a stone on his hips, but he kept moving forward. The guards at the city gates gave the young mercenary strange looks as he passed by, probably because he was still covered by blood, dirt and bruises.

I must look like a ghost. Can't even remember the last time I ate.

On the main road, the few people already around seemed to avoid him. That kind of welcome wasn't exactly what Roric sought for, but he didn't have any strength left to complain about it. The only thing he wanted was to fill his stomach and find some place to rest.

He bought a piece of bread from a vendor, went to a public fountain to quench his thirst and washed his face. Glancing at his own reflection, the boy had to admit that the townspeople were more than justified for staying away from him. His eyes looked empty, with deep bags underneath, and everything in his expression suggested that he had gone through something terrible. Yet, despite his appearance, there was still a place he had to visit before he was done.

Strolling through Aregat, Roric reached the building where the mayor and the city council resided. He remembered that it used to act as commander Lowan's headquarters just a couple of days before and it hadn't changed much. Between the barred windows and constant patrols, the entire city still felt like it was in some kind of turmoil.

The men at the entrance greeted him, asking for his name and business.

"I'm Roric, from the mercenary company," he answered. "I came back with important news for the mayor."

The guards exchanged worried glances.

"There are two people already waiting for you, boy," said one of them. "They told us that they wanted to speak with anyone of you guys who came back. I'll be honest with you, though... I think they are paladins."

Paladins? They must have come because of Tolwin's message!

"It's fine," declared the young mercenary. "Let me pass. I want to talk with them."

"Quick, come with me," the other man invited him. "I'll go get them for you."

Roric followed the guard inside without any objection, stopping in the atrium while he went upstairs. Shortly after, a couple of warriors came down along with him.

They were both middle aged, wearing full plates with golden motives and bright white capes. One of them had a black, well cured beard, while the other kept his blond hair very short. The two men walked proudly, without even trying to hide their richly decorated weapons.

They are the real deal. What a stroke of luck! Maybe these guys can help me!

"Here he is," said the guard, addressing the duo. "I'm leaving him into your care, then."

"Fine," answered the raven haired paladin. "We don't need you anymore. Get back to your post."

The man nodded and left, while the two members of the Order studied Roric with strict gazes. Both of them, the boy realized, were nearly expressionless.

"You know why we are here, do you?" asked the blond one. "Where is Tolwin?"

The young mercenary gulped. Memories of his mentor filled his mind and for a moment he almost felt the rising need to cry. Nonetheless, he held back the tears and tried to give them a proper answer.

"He... I'm afraid that he died. Our company fought a necromancer, and he was badly wounded. We need to inform the city about-"

"Stop. That's enough."

"Really? How?"

"We are placing you under arrest, for now," announced the bearded paladin. "Your weapon, if you please."

"What? Why are you arresting me? I didn't do anything!"

"We will bring you in for questioning. Our commanding officer in Rayol ordered us to find everything we could about that heretic."

"The heretic? You mean Tolwin? What about the necromancer? He-"

"The supposed necromancer, that is."

Roric had no words.

I can't understand. Shouldn't they help me? I... I am starting to see why Tolwin left them.

"Supposed? Those things were real! The company has been wiped out and-"

"You'll explain that in the capital," replied the man. "Now, your weapon. Don't make me repeat myself."

The boy handed his sword, reluctantly. It was his only possession, as he had lost the entirety of his stuff on the battlefield. The paladins then led him outside, tied his hands and forced him to climb in the back of a small wagon.

"What about these people?" he asked. "The necromancer might come back and attack again. Aren't you going to protect them?"

The bearded man glared at him.

"If the Order decides so, we will. But you better have any proof of what you say."

A couple of minutes later, they were heading out from Aregat.

***

The trip only lasted three days.

As Roric quickly discovered, the Order had many stables and staging posts along the main roads, so whenever the horses were too tired to keep running the paladins simply stopped and changed them with fresh ones, sleeping and driving the cart in turns. The boy tried his best to get some sleep, but he kept having nightmares and waking up because of the bumpy terrain. On the second day he even thought about escaping, but without a good knowledge of his captors and their abilities he didn't find the courage to try.

The two men spoke exclusively among themselves, treating him like he was mere luggage. They fed Roric the bare minimum and only stopped the wagon when it was absolutely necessary. That uncomfortable situation went on until the republican capital popped on the horizon.

Roric already knew that Rayol was a huge city, much bigger than Guhrien. From his conversation with Demios, the boy remembered that it was also very ancient. He pushed back the tears when he thought of how much he would have liked to visit it along with his knowledgeable friend and the others.

The cart went through the streets of the metropolis with haste and Roric was immediately struck by its beauty. Wherever he could lay his eyes there were palaces, columns, temples, all elegant examples of the Old Kingdom's architecture. There were gardens, markets and even public baths. People of all ages and standing crowded the city, its every corner busy with workshops and stores. Priests spoke of the Makers in front of the many monuments while scholars went in and out the most ancient buildings. For what Roric could tell, Rayol seemed to exist in many different ages at the same time.

Yet, even at a first glance the capital hat its own bunch of problems. First of all, it was filthy. Certain areas were so littered that the population looked almost sick. The young mercenary spotted at least a dozen cutpurses with his superhuman reflexes while simply passing by.

Crime is certainly an issue here. I wonder where the guards are. And what about the Order?

Another aspect of the city he disliked from the start was its rampant inequality. The further the wagon went towards the center, the more often Roric could see important people with their escort kicking the crowd aside, rich politicians looking down on everyone else, shady characters waiting for their next victim in the darkest alleys. The capital was a dangerous place.

The paladins drove the carriage at a fast pace, partially trampling a couple of people in the process, and ultimately stopped in front of a white marble palace, adorned with winged statues. The boy was brought inside and led to a room where he could wash his body and get a welcomed change of clothes. Despite being in that quiet, tidy place, however, Roric couldn't help but feeling anxious for his imminent questioning.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

What kind of person is this commander going to be? The Order seems quite different from the ideas Tolwin spoke of. Guardians of justice? Protectors of the weak? Bah! I don't get why they brought me here in the first place! Even a fool could see that there was something wrong with Aregat. Rickhart was only a couple of days ahead...

Two hours later, a couple of guards came and escorted Roric to another room with huge wooden doors. Inside, the young mercenary found a meeting hall. It was wide, luxurious, decorated with ancient pictures and vases. Right in the center there was a long table, with several people all sitting on the same side. A huge pair of iron scales towered in the corners.

What... What is this place?

Had the situation been different the boy would have felt honored to simply be admitted in there, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. The men who accompanied him brought a lonely chair, putting it right in front of who looked to be the most important person.

A middle aged woman, dressed with an even more sophisticated version of the usual paladin plate, was sitting on the opposite side of the table. Her raven hair was short, exposing a delicate neck, and it covered part of her face as she reviewed documents with slender, agile fingers. Along with her were other counselors and warriors of the Order, all giving Roric curious glances. Those looks were starting to make him a little annoyed but then, after a long silence, the commander finally spoke.

"Welcome, son. Do you know why you are here?"

She spoke with a serious, confident tone, that went well along with her formal attitude. From the way she didn't even lift her eyes, the young mercenary guessed that the woman wasn't that interested in him.

"I'm sorry, My Lady. I was just told that you wanted to question me," answered Roric, trying to sound as polite as possible.

"I am Lady Ainar, commander of the paladins here in the capital," she introduced herself. "First things first, tell me about your connection with the heretic Tolwin."

"About... Tolwin? I thought the necromancer was more important-"

"Answer my question."

With a sigh, Roric began his tale. He told the woman how he had met the priest after the destruction of Spjaldir and informed the paladins about the events that led to the war in Sinen. They kept asking for more details about his life with the old man, so the boy just provided them with everything he could remember, up to the terrifying battle of a few days before. The only matter he avoided to mention, of course, was his Elemental nature. Thanks to Tolwin and his teachings he already knew that the Order wouldn't have been so kind towards it.

Why don't they ask me about Rickhart and his cult? It's almost like... They only care for Tolwin and this heresy of theirs. I wonder what does it mean but it doesn't sound like a good thing.

The young mercenary tried to be as accurate as possible about what happened in the mansion, however, and noticed that more than one among his audience were whispering and exchanging comments. When he was finished, the room was completely silent once again.

"So, you say that you've fought a necromancer. Is this true?"

"Yes, Lady Ainar. He is still out there. Tolwin didn't manage to kill him, but he didn't get away unhurt. If you hurry, maybe-"

"This is not for you to decide, kid," stepped in the commander. "Anyway, it looks like you were really close to the heretic."

"Why do you keep calling him that?" grumbled the boy. "Because he left the Order?"

Lady Ainar stood up, and glared at him menacingly.

"One more word and you'll rot in a cell."

Roric gulped, and looked down.

"These are dark times," she went on. "We walk on the edge of a new age of destruction, as we speak. You want to know why Tolwin is considered a heretic, you say? That man injured the Order in ways even he couldn't think of. One of the most important paladins we had chose to walk a path that brought him further and further away from the Light, and left us in a moment of need. Since his departure, we haven't been the same."

The woman marched left and right, reminding the young mercenary a bit of commander Lowan.

"Egotistical idealist! I was but an initiate when it happened, and I swore I would bring him back in chains for that. All these years, I waited for the Eye of Judgment to show himself again... A shame that I couldn't put an end to his life myself."

The boy felt the anger burning inside.

How can she talk about him like this? After everything he has done for me...

"Gentlemen," she said. "It looks like this was a complete waste of time, after all. Put on record that the traitor Tolwin is deceased, and let's move on."

"What about the necromancer?" asked Roric, coldly.

He was surprised by how pissed his voice sounded. Still, he wanted an answer and the threat of imprisonment wasn't enough to make him shut up. Lady Ainar turned towards him, and gave him an even stricter gaze.

"There is no way a single necromancer could summon the dead in such numbers, kid. You've either imagined it, or simply made it up. You shouldn't believe every story you hear in a tavern."

"Even Tolwin didn't believe it, when he heard about it," pointed out the boy. "He said that facing him could be very dangerous."

The woman's piercing eyes went through him like a blade.

"Then you should have stayed away and waited for us," she said. "Anyway, do you have any proof that it was indeed a necromancer?"

"You should know better than me. Tolwin did inform you. You even sent your paladins after him."

"All I wanted was to capture a traitor. I never believed a word about that story."

"Why? I was present and-"

"Be silent. There is no way for a young boy like you to get out from a similar hell on his feet. Do you want to know what I think? I think that you are a deserter, at most."

A... A deserter? Me?

Once again, the young mercenary couldn't find the words to reply.

"We shouldn't be harsh with him, commander," commented one of the counselors. "He probably saw some kind of danger and ran off. Look at how young he is."

"He was part of Lowan's company. We all know how his supporters idolized him," said a second person.

"Wasn't he the mercenary who had refused the castle of Sinen? He must have been an unstable, irrational person. He probably made a mistake, led his troops into a battle they couldn't win and the boy still can't accept it."

Well, the part about the battle is true... But the things I can't accept are very different.

"From his tale, however," stepped in a younger paladin. "it appears that some dark magic users might have at least visited Aregat. If such suspects arise, the code demands that we start an investigation. Makers' blessing, we are the Order!"

All the presents turned towards the one who had just intervened, giving him disappointed looks.

"He could claim to have seen the Makers themselves, for what I care," replied one of the oldest counselors. "We have no time to follow such childish fantasies."

"I'm not lying!" growled Roric. "We fought the undead. I saw them with these very eyes!"

Lady Ainar sighed and motioned the others to stay silent.

"You only need to visit that forest," begged the boy. "I can show you what they did to the village of Levya. The graves, the corpses. Aren't you supposed to protect the innocent?"

"He seems honest, commander," commented the young paladin again. "What if he is right? Give me permission to take a look, just to be sure-"

"No. We don't have the manpower to hunt down visions in the border regions. The people of the Republic already look at us like freaks, and rumours spread. What if we ended up alerting half of the country for nothing? No investigation will take place until I say so, Kandros."

Roric yelled, "How can this be justice?"

"Calm down, kid, or I'm really going to have you imprisoned. The Order won't move if there isn't a clear proof that something happened. We will keep the records of this conversation for our achives, in case new elements come out, but until then this necromancer of yours doesn't exist."

The young mercenary was about to explode with rage. He thought about showing Lady Ainar his powers, but that would have been a desperate and stupid move.

"What are you saying?" he asked, trying to get a hold on himself. "Just because it didn't happen here, you are letting him go? What about Aregat and its people?"

"We'll inform the Senate and they will appoint a new Lord for that town. He'll take care of things there," replied the commander, lowering her gaze on her papers. "Now, I must ask you to leave. Have a nice day."

The boy tried to turn to the younger paladin for help but the man shook his head. He stood and left the hall, in anger, recovering his sword from the guards. Then, he stopped for a minute in one of the corridors to catch up some breath.

Why didn't she listen to me? Tolwin said that the Order were just an arrogant bunch, but to this point? I would have helped them. The only thing I wanted was being sure taht something similar would have never happened again... Shit!

From the corner of his eye, Roric noticed that a person was standing at his side, so he lifted his head. He was about to spit out more words of rage, but when he realized who he was he suddenly changed his mind.

"Can I have a word with you, boy?"

Palander was there. Or rather, Lord Palander of Sinen, the man who had taken the place of commander Lowan at the castle of his family. He was now dressed like a nobleman, but the scar on his face was still unmistakable.

"Of... Of course, my Lord," said the young mercenary, bowing in respect. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Relax," replied the man. "I remember you. The youngest of the company, right?"

Roric nodded.

"I happened to be around here when they brought you in. They told me what you were saying... I thought I knew Lowan, but he was even more stubborn than what I thought. I'd like to know about his final hours, if it's possible."

"There isn't much to say. We met a necromancer and the commander wanted to stop him before he could bring more pain to Aregat. The enemy was too much for us. He died in the frontlines, I think."

Palander sighed. "I knew that he would have run to his death, eventually. He kept thinking so much about the poor people, but to throw away his life like that... It didn't have to end this way. Well, he was a good man."

"Yeah, he was," admitted Roric. "But too many had to pay for his mistakes."

The two remained silent for a bit, then the Lord took the word again.

"So, I suppose you are looking for a job now," said the count. "Sinen is always in need, if you have no place to go."

The boy looked outside, through one of the decorated windows, watching the many people coming and going on the street.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but I can't accept. I think I'll travel around for some time."

"It's your choice," laughed Palander. "Good luck, young one."

The man turned around and walked away, whistling.

There goes the Lord of Sinen... What about that place, by the way? The commander wanted his home to be safe. Maybe I should follow him and make sure that at least Lady Leanna doesn't rise again.

"Lord Palander," he called. "The old countess is still locked up, isn't she?"

Palander stopped and grinned at him.

"Rest assure, she's been dead for months. We cut her head off as soon as her honourable brother disappeared beyond the horizon. I'm not as merciful as he was, and... I already knew that he wouldn't come back."

Then he waved and proceeded on his way. A bit relieved, Roric went in the opposite direction and exited the building, heading towards the gates. He had close to no money left, not to mention that he still lacked food and water. Nonetheless, just as he was thinking of turning around and go back to the Lord for a job, a cloaked man approached him. As he came closer the boy recognized Kandros, the young paladin that had tried to oppose Lady Ainar's decision.

"Roric, right?" he said. "Sorry if I couldn't change the commander's mind earlier. I know you are probably sick of it at this point, but I still need to ask you a couple of things. Privately."

"Do you... Believe me, then? Will you help me?"

Kandros looked left and right, scratching his faint beard.

"Maybe. Follow me."