--- Tolwin

After the meeting with his sister's emissaries, Lowan asked Tolwin for his opinion on the matter. Being aware of the details of his past since the very start, the priest was the only one the commander trusted for advice on such a sensitive topic, even more than his faithful lieutenants.

Despite being a firm, martial man on the outside, Lowan became nervous and indecisive whenever he heard about his homeland. It was quite obvious that he would have much preferred to just forget about it, but the strictness of his morals prevented him from doing so.

In the main pavilion, Tolwin read the letter multiple times while his old time friend marched back and forth, in an unnerving way. When they were talking about Leanna, he always had to choose his words carefully.

"So?" asked Lowan, once he was done with the message. "What should I do?"

"I don't know what kind of answers you expect from me, after all these years," replied the priest, shaking his head. "I will support your every decision, but this is your choice to make. It's about your family, not mine."

The man grumbled something about his need to reflect, so Tolwin sighed and left him alone.

It's always the same, every time. Will this stupid story ever reach its end?

Just like he expected, the commander spent an entire month doing smaller jobs to clear his mind a little. Then, suddenly, he gave the order to move towards Sinen and threw the camp into turmoil.

***

"Where are we going, mister?" asked Roric, who was busy putting together books about herbs. "The others told me we were going to leave this place, but I don't understand what's happening. The commander usually plans things weeks in advance and everyone knows what's going on."

The two were packing the healer's stuff and carrying it to his wagon. Lowan's decision had been issued in the middle of the night and several couriers had already left to rally his allies and friends. Even a mercenary company like theirs, after all, would need a lot more men to face a menace such as the kingdom of Ekhar.

"We are going North, Roric," replied the priest. "To the castle of Sinen, commander Lowan's birthplace. He's been told that a grave menace will soon come and threaten that land. His homeland."

The child was clearly saddened.

"It's... A war, then?"

"Yes. We'll join the defenders and help, along with many others who have been called. In normal circumstances I wouldn't be worried, yet..."

"What is it?"

"It's Lowan," Tolwin went on. "He doesn't like being in that place. Something happened there, in the past. Something that he still refuses to forget."

Roric looked down. He always showed great interest in everything that concerned the commander, a man he seemed to admire like the greatest hero of them all. Seeing such a depressed face, the priest couldn't help but tell him the entire story.

"Alright, you win. Help me with this slab," he started. "Come on, you want to know about his past, don't you?"

With a smile, the kid hurried to the other side of the table and grabbed it, ready to listen. The old man lifted his share of the weight, and began talking.

Lowan was the second child of the count of Sinen.

His family ruled one of the borderlands of the Republic, a region of hills and forests that served as an outpost to watch over the fords of the river Rien. Beyond its waters, in fact, lay the kingdom of Ekhar. And the border was just nominal most of the time.

Throughout the centuries, those distant territories had been the stage of many gruesome wars, becoming known as one of the most dangerous places in the world. Everyone who lived near the Rien had to face an Ekhar invasion at least once in their lifetime, and losing friends or family was considered pretty much commonplace. Despite that, the people of Sinen always endured, shielding the rest of the Republic from the fury of the northern clans.

When Lowan was just a young boy, a big war broke out. The warriors of Ekhar easily destroyed his father's army and marched towards the castle, killing everyone they met on the way there. On the verge of annihilation, the count ordered to close the doors and resist, waiting for reinforcements from the surrounding lands. Without any regard for the lives of his subjects, he stubbornly refused to shelter even a single person and left the folks of the nearby town to their doom. His son did everything in his power to change his mind, but his words were ultimately useless. Hundreds and hundreds were slaughtered like animals while they desperately bashed on the gates of Sinen.

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For weeks they waited, hiding behind the walls. Lowan wouldn't sleep, haunted by the cries of help he had heard from the outside. Unable to understand his father's cruelty, he spent his nights cursing him.

Finally, the reinforcements came. The siege was broken and the invaders repelled to their lands, but when the guards opened the doors again the view was devastating. The town had been burned to the ground. Rotten corpses littered the streets, and the few buildings that were still standing were adorned with impaled heads. Those faces, still twisted by terror, made the boy break into tears.

"What are you whining for, Lowan? When those people swore obedience to me, they accepted that their lives were expendable," said the Lord, spitting on the ground. "At least they didn't run away like cowards."

Instead of honoring their sacrifices, instead of feeling responsible for the fate that befell his people, that man was mocking them. He just didn't care.

"You could have saved them. Even a small part!" yelled Lowan, still crying. "But you left them here to die. To my eyes, the only coward here is you."

For his statement the boy received a slap in the face, but from that day forward he promised himself he'd never grown to be like his father.

As the years passed, their fights became frequent and violent. The count was furious with him, and told him that one day he would have stopped thinking like a naive kid. He would have to realize what being a Lord was about and he too would have learned to be cruel and cynical. It was his destiny, as the ruler of those accursed lands. And nothing would change that.

It was at that moment that young Lowan stopped seeing Sinen as his home. From his point of view, even death was better than turning into a heartless tyrant. So, after months of careful planning, he waited for a moonless night and escaped.

He ran for many miles, chased by the count's guards and hounds. For two days he managed to keep the pursuers away, but in the end he found himself cornered. Still, the boy was crafty and talented. He lured his father's men into a trap and fought for his freedom, relying on his skill and bravery alone. After killing the last of the enemies, Lowan took the sword of his family from the hands of the tyrant, who was leading the search party, and pointed it right at his throat.

Still, just as he tasted his well-earned victory for the very first time, his father glared at him in spite. Even while defeated, he couldn't see anything in his son but a worthless failure.

The boy told him that he wasn't coming back to the castle, and chose to spare his life. As much as he hated him, Lowan knew that vengeance would have made him the same as that horrible man and it just wasn't worth it, even if it meant leaving the count free and unharmed. The last words he heard from his father, tied to a solitary tree, were yells of derision for his weakness.

Years of adventuring transformed Lowan into an even more astute and resourceful man. He became a bannerless warrior, a mercenary who fought for money but didn't betray his ideals. There was no place for looted villages or slaughtered innocents in his vision of the world and he always remained true to himself, to honor the memory of those killed by his father during the war.

"Wait," stepped in Roric. "So, he is like... Still a noble?"

"If only it was so simple, my boy," sighed Tolwin. "More things happened after that."

Among the republican nobles it was still known that Lowan had never officially given up his right of succession. Eventually his father fell ill and died, so he received a letter from Sinen. There, many of the powerful allies and enemies of the old count were already waiting for his return, for a chance to win his favor. They promised friendship, pacts and deals, but the young man wasn't interested in their words. He knew well how things went whenever Ekhar attacked, how Sinen had always paid the highest price, and wasn't willing to take part in that game.

For that reason, he chose to leave his place to his older sister Leanna, who had been jealous of his privilege and wanted to rule since she was a little girl. With her lifelong dream finally in her reach, the woman accepted. There was nothing she desired more than showing that she was worth more than her brother, and Lowan was aware of that, yet there was a condition the new countess was asked to meet.

If she became a cruel and despotic ruler like their father, Lowan promised that he would come back to strip her of her rights himself.

And so, throughout the years, their relationship deteriorated. During their few meetings, any outsider would have said that they were sworn enemies rather than brother and sister. Leanna became a woman who lived on intrigues, always hungry for more power and wealth, her only limitation being that pact with Lowan so long before. He seemed to be the only one who rightfully scared her.

Aside from some periodic checks to see if the situation was holding up, the commander tried to live away from his homeland and forget the past. Sometimes, at night, he still woke up thinking he was right there at the castle, while hundreds of innocent people were massacred outside.

"And that's more or less his story."

"It's... So sad," commented Roric. "It's almost like he has lost his place in the world."

"He is like you," said Tolwin. "Robbed of his childhood, while he couldn't even fight back. Many others in the company suffered a similar fate, and Lowan always tends to be sympathetic towards them."

"Just like leaves drifting in the current..." murmured the orphan.

"The commander wanted to take you in since your first meeting. He knows what's like to face death at such a young age. He knows what's like to strive for the power you don't have. And he knows how difficult it is to prevent bad things from happening."

The child sat down, in thought.

"To think he had to face something like that... No wonder he doesn't want to go back there."

They went on with their work, in silence. Tolwin chugged down some water to clear his throat, observing his little assistant as he carried more books to the wagon. Anyway, it was written on his face that he wanted to know more.

"I can see that you still have questions, so I'll grant you one more. Then there won't be any break until we are finished. Are we clear?"

Without a single glimpse of hesitation, Roric asked, "How did you two meet?"

Those were the days.

Tolwin was younger, and tormented by the past as well. It was indeed curious how the paths of people like them always ended up crossing.

"Remember this, Roric: not even the mightiest warrior is immune from danger," explained the priest. "His men brought him to me, many years ago. He was barely alive yet he desperately clung to life, like he had a mission much bigger than him. I still don't know exactly how I managed to keep him in this world."

Even after so much time, he remembered every detail of that rainy day, spent cleaning wounds and blood from a young mercenary who had faced a small gang of criminals all by himself just to help a couple in distress. Saving Lowan's life, funnily enough, had restored purpose to his own.

"I was also searching for... A place to stay," concluded the man. "Since then, I have always followed him."

Thinking about that stuff was making the priest nostalgic.

"What do you mean?" Roric inquired again. "Were you also-"

"Stop right there. We had an agreement, didn't we?" laughed Tolwin. "That's a story for another time."