25th day of Breezedays, eleventh month of the year, 983:

“For the last time Sorak, cease this foolish endeavour at once! You are acting like your fellow paladins of the Order,“ Said the Bishop, Adelene, an old woman in her fifties. A foreigner from the capital with the looks of a southerner, light brown eyes, a snobbish nose, and hair braided in an exceedingly complex manner. “Remember you are one of the few voices of reason in your ranks, Sorak. Do not let yourself fall to reckless instincts.”

“Pardon me for prolonging this discussion, Bishop, but our church has tolerated enough cruelty from our Regent. Yes, he brought stability, but it can become better, should we not strive for a better reality?” Debated Sorak. The slightly claustrophobic feeling she always got when she entered the church made her act a bit rash. Peeking around, all those idols, paintings, rugs and sculptures, she once again asked himself how much money had been invested on those.

“It is as you say, but change should never come from revolution. Reformation is the way of our church, as you know. If a change can come without blood, why rush it? We know the meaning of patience, Paladin. Conflict is as senseless as swords in the society we strive to become. Both are equally unnecessary. Noct will acquiesce his regency, will he not? Then something as foolish as a coup could very well turn into a bloody civil war. Would you be able to prevent all deaths and the destruction that it could carry? No. It is foolish.”

“Then what should I tell to the families who lost dads and sons to him in his pursuit of justice, Bishop? Will we be able to bring them back to our future perfect society?”

“You are nearing heresy, High Paladin Sorak without a Surname,” Warned Adelene, both their entourages of paladins getting restless from the accusation, but none dared talk, for leading was a woman's business. “Probe the frozen lake too much and it shall crack, do not test me more.”

“Bishop, I still demand to be heard, the rightful Lord of this barony deserves our support, not a despot who continues to iron fist every change he proposes!”

“And what changes of the barony do you resent, Sorak,” Spat Adelene with sarcasm. “A legal code that equals all people, even the nobles, to each other? The new cheap fuel to warm our horses? The new peace and the almost total lack of crime in the barony? The new crop system that will eradicate hunger? The free literacy classes in the Library, which he made of free access for everyone but the wealthy? The new public baths and sewer system? The rebuilding of the slums to give the serfs a worthy place to live in?”

“...but….!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Cut her the bishop. “We have lost things, our power is not what it was, the town is way more silent than it was. But prosperity always has a price; if you ask any common peasant he will say that yes, he is a despot and he may have to be more careful with what he does and says, but he will tell you he is feeding his family thanks to him. Ask the powerful merchants and rich people? They will rant on and on about how his evilness has to be stopped. Evil and good are two faces of the same coin, Sorak. Our world is unlike our Holy Scriptures, idealism without a firm grip over reality will end in travesty.”

“He is still an unlawful ruler, bishop.” Weakly argued Sorak

“Our old bishop supported the unlawful coup, as you already know, and the one who helped our church to burn the corruption away was none other than Noct. He is carrying sins we have committed thanks to our past inability to punish our false pious. Yes, we may have bended the knee and let our tithe be replaced with only donations, but the other churches didn’t. You should walk by them sometime. Now they are the backbone of the Barony’s Guilds, repurposed to now work for the people they used to tax. You talk like a man, Sorak, you are dismissed, I refuse to let you bore me more.”

“Your Excellency, If I may be so reckless as to interrump,“ Started Hans, as soon as he kneeled, one of the many lowly paladin in Sorak’s faction, “we paladins agree with So…”

“I said dismissed, Paladin. Are you deaf?”

“No, your Excellency.” Hans quickly got up and returned to his position behind Sorak. As soon as he did so, Sorak gave the order to go away, repressing the desire to tear the gold and silver from the statues.

“I would rather discuss with the asshole of Noct than with that old hag.” Ruminated Sorak to herself, that Bishop was as passive as the growth of her riches. The imagen she saw as he left the church was one of excess. ‘Are we really the embodiment of our values of Compassion when a megalomaniac beats us to the punch in helping the poor? The new status quo proves our old tithes were unnecessary. Did we really parasite the people we should have been protecting?’

“If I may, High Paladin, what is our course then? At this rate she will excommunicate you.” Said Jimo, one of the 3 paladins that had escorted her to talk with Noct those months ago.

“Never once did I fear that the church would refuse to do anything. I do not know how to progress.” She had always used a straightforward stance whenever she met a problem, she lacked both patience and finesse.

“Maybe we should…give up?” Said Jetlo, an old slave rescued by the reforms of Noct, not that happy to fight against his benefactor but orders and ideals moved him to try to get him a just judgement. “Lord Noct is relaxing bit by bit the iron watch he used to have. Now the guards don’t scare people to death at least.”

“That’s thanks to Soral.” She argued with little emphasis, she wasn’t as delusional as to not know they had succeeded because Noct had let them. Her old anger had led to apathy, it was ironic even. She had over the years, little by little, discarded or acted blind to the very way of life and her dreams had led her old family to cast her away, ‘Was I really just a puppet of the church?’

“A warrior's path was not worthy enough for a woman,” had said her mother, “but for a tomboy like her it may be the only option. She lacks both the skill to weave and the peace of mind to rule.” Casting her old memories aside, he decided to postpone the problem. She had grown dangerously skilled on that front.

“I’m going to train, maybe that will give me some ideas. You are disbanded, men.”

“Yes commander!”

……………….

On her way to the training grounds of the castle, which Noct had lent to all military orders of paladins if they helped with the training of the troops, she met Andras on the middle ring of the city.

“Paladin Sorak, always a pleasure to meet you.”

“High commander Andras.” Saluded Sorak somewhat casually. Despite their rough exterior they had grown fond of each other. The amiability of the big warrior always numbed her edge.

“Sorak, I am off duty. Please, do not remind me of my work.” Whimpered Andras.

“The training’s been rough, sir?”

“The usual. Amateurs tend to repeat the same errors, and it’s starting to get into my skin. Aah.” He sighed. Trying to change the topic of the conversation, he inquired, “Where are you questing towards, young paladin?”

With a mocking grin, Sorak kept her polite tone and pinched “To the training grounds, sir. Could I ask for your instruction?”

The eyes of Andras betrayed the fun he was having in the little barter and, looking defeated, answered, “And like that you lost me Sorak.”

Sorak laughed, feeling her mood getting better, and said, “Jokes aside, it is as I told you, and I would appreciate a duelling partner, I may be getting rusty with all the bloating of trying to get myself involved in politics.”

Nodding, he probed “Is the church being difficult?”

She grimaced, “The church’s being impossible, yeah. Do not remind me of my terrenal blunders if you do not want a beating, old man.” She could hold her curiosity no longer and asked, with a joke improper of a paladin of her position, “You sold your kid for that sword?” The hilt of the new sword of Andras was pulling her heart strings. Flashbacks of noblewomen saying that swordplay was a barbarian sport and could never be art made a heavy contrast with that masterwork of a blade, inspired by the Elenia Goddess, which was worthy of being entombed in a cathedral of their faith.

“As if!,” Cursed Andras, “It was an old gift from an old friend. I never got around to using it, felt like it was not deserved y’know?” Treaded Andras on half truths. Paladins of Elenia could tell truth from false even if they did not want to.

Sorak gulped, envy shining in her eyes, “Could you present me to him?”

Andras smirked, and answered, enigmatically, “O, but you have already met.”

That response provoked a back and forth of Sorak trying to get the name and Andras lying as if his very life was in danger.

………………….

When they reached the training grounds, a wannabe delusion that they could not have been prepared for awaited them.

“Again! Never let go of your weapon if you are not going to die or you cannot kill your opponent!” Noct was screaming at a soldier in training.

That young woman couldn’t answer but in grunts, trying to parry an obscure storm of unpredictable strikes. A parry, a backstep, a shed, a tilt, she was doing all that was humanly possible to hold her own, but Noct remained unperturbed to her efforts.

“Footing,” Another parry, ”Footing!” Another shed, ”For Gods’ Sake!” Screamed Noct while knocking her down with a swiping kick, “Do I need you to knock you down everytime you make the same mistakes Soldier?! I will run out of magic for healing if that is necessary.”

Gasping for air, Samil moved some of the white hair that had moved towards her face during the fight, and answered, “So-sorry.”

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She was truly the picture of a tired soldier, her toned build was covered in dirt and bits of snow, she was shivering from exhaustion. Her dark blue eyes were red thanks to the sweat and the meddling of her hair. While she couldn’t even stand, sitting on the snow, Noct was dressed in his training gear and was as stable as always, his breathing not even altered by the sparring.

He sighed and calmed down. “Do not be, you are doing splendidly, the problem is that you got too much skill, so I went a bit overboard. It is always exciting when training a promising person.”

“Ski…lled, I haven’t…hit you back….since the first…duel” Insisted Samil with a depressed tone.

Noct doubled down and flicked her lightly with a finger on her forehead. “You are being too hasty. It has only been three days, you are doing way better than me in my ear…..” Noct realised now that 2 people had come near them and slowly shut up, trying to keep his composure.

Andras had the biggest smile on his dumb face after having witnessed the brother mode of Noct, while Sorak looked like he had learned something forbidden by her religion and could not wait to forget it with a strong drink.

Samil, without having realised, asked Noct, “Tea…cher?”

Andras could no longer contain himself and started laughing as loud as two people, while Sorak stumbled on plain snow and almost fell down. Samil, startled like a small animal, looked behind and got so embarrassed her pretty face almost equaled the colour of Sorak’s hair.

Trying to regain control of the situation, Noct questioned, “Something funny, High Commander Andras?”

“Nothing, my Lord. Just asking myself when the marriage ceremony will be celebrated.” Chuckled Andras.

“Are you already drunk?” Noct asked, too startled to keep his composure, ”I would rather marry Sorak.”

“You would do what!?” Screamed Sorak. The last thing she needed to hear today, Noct courting her.

“Hey! You being a bit attractive doesn’t give you the right to reject me that hard! As if I would want to marry such a workaholic.” Samil was still too tired to realise what she was saying.

“Can you be quiet?!” The angry voice of Noct being shadowed by Andras' stronger laughter.

A few moments later, when Andras had both calmed himself and stopped Sorak from trying to unsheathe her sword.

Returning to the question he hadn’t been able to ask, “So, what brings you both here, High Paladin Sorak and High Commanded Andras?”

“Well,...” Tried to start Andras before Sorak cut him.

“I came here to train and requested High Commander Andras for help. But I fear I am imposing too much on him, care to help me, Regent?” The glint in her eyes was as friendly as an assassin in the dark.

“I would be honoured, High Paladin.” Noct could start singing, he had always wanted to kick her teeth in, and he had been given the best excuse to do it.

“Andras?” Both asked at the same time.

Andras cursed under his breath. ‘So much for exercise’, and surrendered. “Yes, yes, I will administer the duel. Bunch of barbarians, the two of you.” Said while shaking his head.

Sorak tugged the shield located on her back, a typical tear shield but modified to be able to equip it parallel to the arm for better shield hits, and quickly equipped it. She unsheathed her short sword and got ready without a word. Noct sighed and walked towards her, muttering some inward curses, he manifested a spell circle and wrapped the sword with a blunt barrier, and went back to his side of the imaginary ring.

Noct readied himself as a mage would. He made some more magic circles over her plates of armour on his arms and those turned into liquid. It then flowed from those plates to cover his arms, from the elbow towards his fingers, and solidified into dark black gauntlets. His fingers turned into metal claws that seemed to be heavily inspired by the wolf men of the Neverending Forest, wolf monsters in the image of humanoid creatures.

“You are not using your sword, Noct?”

“I cannot blunt it.” Simply answered.

She knew he was lying, and, aggravated, asked, “And why the hell is that?” To which Noct only answered with a smile.

Already tired for the rest of the day, Andras gave his permission. “Ready or not the bout commences!”

Sorak quickly started a controlled dash, reinforcing herself with her faith. Shield first, she was already ready to feint an attack with her sword and hit with her characteristic shield bash, planning to hit with the pointed side of her shield and that could produce grave internal bleeding as it stabbed.

Noct slightly crouched down, plating firmly his feet on the ground, looking ready to pounce as a counter to Sorak’s charge. When Sorak arrived at a distance of four feet she feinted a slash with the short sword, which was but a few centimetres off, almost striking Noct, who had refused to move, and, a bit confused, she changed her plans and tried to stab him at that moment.

What she didn’t expect was Noct jumping three meters high and completely avoiding the stab, cracking a bit the ground he had jumped from. Still, Sorak wasn’t a paladin for nothing, so she quickly used the inertia of her stab to quickly rotate her shield to the left and interject it between her and Noct, blocking a kick from Noct.

That defensive manoeuvre gave Noct the respire he needed to quickly land and launch himself against the now shielded Sorak. He batted a sword strike with the back of his left hand, and quickly punched the shield of Sorak in the middle, dragging her back a few feet and leaving a trail in the ground, almost breaking her posture. Dashing forward again, he crashed against the shield. A tug war started between the two as they tried to wrestle control of the shield, Noct trying to push it to the side as he sank his claws into its metal and Sorak, trying to defend herself, pulling with her left arm.

Sorak tried to hit the head of Noct with the pommel of her sword but Noct moved his head and let the hilt hit his shoulder. The crack of a bone resounding over the castle grounds, making Andras grimace. Less of a duel, it appeared as a rabid bar fight that had gotten out of control. Noct grabbed the now exposed right arm of Sorak and tried to bring it down, causing her to lower her weapon, as he was grabbing her by the wrist and was trying to make her drop the weapon.

Sorak didn’t wait for Noct to succeed, hard kicking him in the knee, making him drop to a kneeling position but causing her grip on the shield to weaken, gifting the shield to Noct, who promptly discarded it to the side as a ravaged piece of wood and metal.

Now they both fought to gain the advantage. If Noct could make her drop the weapon he would be the only armed one. If Sorak could disentangle herself she would gain a longer reach and deal with a weakened Noct. The struggle began anew and Sorak appeared to be slowly winning the battle, as the left arm of Noct appeared to be losing strength thanks to the injury.

With a grunt, Sorak pulled one last time and she felt Noct loosening his grip and quickly retracted her arm. What she didn’t realise was that Noct had given up on the head on fight and had baited her into quickly retreating his arm. He let it go till he grabbed the crossguard of the sword and, thanks to the two different forces in play trying to go in separate ways, he was able to steal her sword and throw it far behind him.

Sorak tried to back off but Noct quickly got up and, unequipping her right gauntlet, he hit her with a straight punch on the abdomen. Being the musclehead she was she welcomed the simpler brawl and kneeled Noct on the guts. What followed was a chaotic fist fight in which Noct only came on top thanks to a better technique and more speed, losing hard in terms of raw power.

Sorak dropping on the ground, no longer able to keep on going, was the signal to the disappointed Andras to declare a winner. “Are you happy after winning your little bar fight, Noct?

Spitting some blood and a tooth, Noct answered with a smile, “Very, High Commander.” Lending Sorak a hand, he helped her stand up again and started to heal both of them.

“Was it the training you wanted, High Paladin.”

“Shut up bastard, who gave you the right to disarm yourself?!” Angrily accused him.

“Do I look like a fool to you, Sorak? What type of training would have me not levelling us both to the same conditions? I can read you like a book, Sorak, and you know that. Why the hell would I want to stomp such an easy duel when it is for training purposes?” Genuinely asked Noct, not missing a chance to belittle her.

“Clown.” Sorak snarled. She still didn’t get him. She detested him, he was a bastard and a cruel man who was used to using others as a punching bag when things didn’t go his way; and she knew he hated her. Nonetheless, he treated her like with the respect he gave an equal, warrior to warrior. Not with the reverence reserved to women.

Of all the people she had met, only him and the paladins of his Order had treated her as a true warrior. What she truly was. Her family and other noblewomen had cursed her as manly, her enjoyment of swordplay dubbed a sickness. The men had treated her like an authority she never wanted to be. Noct, on the other hand? He has treated her like she had treated him, like a bastard worthy of punching her lights out.

“Remind me, who was beaten by a clown? Have the paladins of Elenia really fallen so low or are you an outlier?”

“Swallow your unfunny jokes and choke on them.”

While they started to fight again, Samil was trying to comprehend the whole fight. She had thought Noct was just being lazy on her training, but they truly were worlds apart. Reaction speed, distance gauging, stance and even just plain speed, reflexes and strength were as distant as the moon between them. She was a very good pupil, that she knew, but they were veterans, and she was a green sprout.

The hand of her father fell on her shoulder and, with a warm said, reassured her. “You doin’ great sweetie, those are just monsters. A blockhead who could charge a bull and come on top, and a master of smoke and feints.”

Both Sorak and Noct, once again, turned around and said at the same time. “Shut up! You can beat both of us, so you are not one to talk!”

………….

Back in her room in the Order, she was looking at the full Moon. The meeting with Soral made her unable to reconcile sleep. “Noct has let me popularise the Albestus crop rotation method. Together with the social reforms he has been spreading under my name our support base continues to grow. He is making our jobs easier. Andras already finished changing the guards to ones loyal to our cause, and the city is slowly reinvigorating itself. The old slums are also becoming a paradise of investment for small merchants and the guilds plus, the new bathhouses and sewer system are doing wonders for my city. After the winter the army will have finished training and we will have the force to oust him out of power if it’s proven a necessity. Freet not for your failures at luring the church towards our side, they won’t support my brother in the case he turns coats.” Readjusting on her seat, she started to pounder.

“The first time I think our Holy Scriptures are not always right and I am ready to forget my idiotic ideal of ‘everyone is deserving of compassion’ and the bastard who almost made me change turns out to be an overly complicated clown.”

What would she give to gain back her unbending fury from the first time she had seen the draconian punishments of Noct. Looking back at the day she had confronted Noct on her last straw, she later learned the families of the victims had been compensated by Noct, the families of the criminals that knew nothing had been, too.

Even if he had broken a taboo for not letting them bury the bodies, thing the families had come crying about to the church, a simple look at the crimes they had been found guilty of by the guards and attested by hard evidence had deemed that judgement a fair one. She still remembered the ‘Hands’ crimes in other cities he had been on, knowing those bastards had been members of that band had been enough to calm her down.

‘Maybe I just wanted some outlet to let my repressed hate of my own situation out. He had been right when he had said it was in his hand to rule as he saw fit. Fuck, I need a drink.’ Distractedly, Sorak thought.

Looking at the church of Elenia the first time she had come, full of riches now and yesterday, and seeing the old slums was enough to crush the little faith she had had on higher powers. To this day, they hadn’t proven to be worthy of her devotion, not that she would break their bond. She was but a simple paladin.

Looking at the blade of his unsheathed sword, she breathed out, letting her faith come out, the blade catching into a blue fire, the mark of a paladin of Elenia. The majority of her brothers manifested this phenomenon on their shields, emulating the Protection granted by the Goddess. Another thing that reminded her that she was different. Curse be, maybe Noct wasn’t so far away from the truth. An infestation on a branch of a tree has to be cut to save it. Maybe she could save her church. She did not know if she should be anything more than a common paladin but, if anything, Soral was teaching her she needed to fight for her ideals.

………………………...