“We’re done ‘ere.”

Ferene turned, seeing Hallac and Rolf emerging from the house. She looked the man in the eyes, and he nodded at her. “Fightin’s over.”

“I’ll be going, then.” Ferene said, looking towards the south.

“Wait.” Rolf stepped forward. “Ya did so much for’s. We gott-“

“I have to go.” Ferene interrupted. Before he could say anything else, she burst into a run. Weaving through the village, Ferene’s feet carried her across the fields, leaving the startled residents behind.

Whatever happened there felt wrong. By not taking a side, by giving them a chance to talk, she had saved lives. Yet it didn’t feel like an accomplishment. It didn’t feel like something she could say that she had done right.

It didn’t feel like something that would make up for all she had done wrong.

She was running again. Before Hallac and Elsham had woken her up, she ran from the same thoughts. They were back again. A foe she could not fight, a foe that would not kill her. She could not kill her thoughts and leave them behind just as she could not give up and let them kill her.

Was this how Linara felt, during their duel? Consumed by her own thoughts to the point where she wanted to fight someone, anyone, not caring about winning or losing, just wanting to get the anger out?

Ferene slowed, thoughts coming together in her mind. She had fought all her life. Would doing that do the same thing for her that it did for Linara? For a moment she thought about standing in front of Taradira, her sword drawn, staring down the massive Hatharen.

She shook her head. No, fighting would not make her feel better. She needed something different. Somewhere deep inside, she knew what it was. It happened before.

She needed to talk to someone.

Her feet stopped moving. Ferene managed to avoid falling over, just barely. She had talked to Linara, but…that wasn’t it. Velan was the only person she was truly at ease talking to. She remembered holding him and crying, telling him about what happened to Amelia. His words to her.

She couldn’t save everyone. That’s what he told her.

She was sure she could have saved Cerise.

She wished he was here.

He was in Ettsgras. That’s where she was going. Taking a deep breath, she started walking again, then running. Not frantic like before, but with long, measured strides. Ettsgras was her destination, but she had a purpose. She wasn’t hoping that Taradira or Velan would have a solution for her. Velan was her solution. Right now, she just wanted to talk to him. To tell him what happened. She could talk to him, the way she couldn’t talk to anyone else. Ferene didn’t know why. Whenever she talked to Tullund at length, it felt wrong. She felt distant from Linara, in some way. Even Cerise wasn’t easy to talk to, but Velan she could. With him, it was easy. Right now, that was what she needed.

So she ran, not away from what she had done, but towards what she wanted.

Ettsgras stood on top of the wide hill, just as before. Approaching from the northwest, the army camp was hidden from her view, but the path leading to the gate was, just like before, filled with a long line of people, animals, carts, and wagons. Ferene approached, falling in with the rest of the travelers, patiently waiting her turn.

As she got closer, she found herself directed into a separate line for foot traffic, a much smaller side gate that was still big enough to allow four people to pass through at once. Ferene and the other travelers made a much faster pace in this line.

“Name? Foreign soldiers looking to join up?”

“Ferene. Visiting a friend.”

The guard that questioned her frowned, his eyes going to her weapons, then lingering on her ears. “Who is your friend?”

“Velan. At the university.”

“Your relation to him?”

Ferene hesitated. The last time she hadn’t been asked this much. “Former bodyguard.”

“He’ll be safe in the university. Don’t think he needs a bodyguard.”

“I want to talk to my friend.” Ferene said. The guard shrugged, and let her pass.

Ferene found her way back to the imposing university building. Another guard stopped her, and she repeated her intention, but was turned down this time.

“Guests aren’t allowed in just to visit members. If you want to leave a message, it can be relayed.”

Ferene frowned. “Tell him that Ferene will be waiting at the inn we used before.”

The guard grinned at her and nodded.

Leaving, Ferene made her way through the streets to the tall, extravagant building they had stayed in. She drew eyes from some of the other guests as she approached the innkeeper and arranged for a room. When it came time to pay, she once again brought out the coin Varrot gave her.

“How long do you plan on staying here?” The well-dressed, middle aged man asked, picking up the coin and inspecting it.

“A week. For now.”

“Could stay for a lot longer than that, with this. Would be better to find a moneychanger and get something local if you’re looking to make small purchases.”

“Where?”

The man gave her some directions, and Ferene set out again. A few streets away she found a small but well-maintained building tucked between two larger ones. She had to step downward as she entered, finding a simple desk with an elderly man seated behind it. She wordlessly placed her coin on the desk in front of him.

“Wellent, huh?” He said, poking the coin, sliding it but not picking it up. “Stay here for a moment.” He stood up, pulling open a hatch in the floor to reveal a staircase. The old man descended into darkness, leaving Ferene alone. A few minutes later he came back up, and dropped two gold squares on the table, as well as a small pouch, which he spread open to reveal a small pile of hexagons inside. He pushed them across the desk towards Ferene. “My grandson ran his way up there. Said the girls are prettier there. Any truth to that?”

Ferene’s thoughts went to Cerise, and she clenched her jaw shut, simply nodding at him. He didn’t say anything further, instead picking up her coin. Ferene took the man’s money and left.

She properly paid for a room, going up to it and looking around, once again seeing the fancy, delicate-looking furniture and the overly soft bed. She sighed. It felt empty without Velan here. She wondered how long it would take him to show up.

If he would show up at all.

The thought came to her, unwelcome. Would he even care about her any more? What was his life like now, and did he need to be reminded of her, killing people in front of him? Leaving without saying goodbye?

Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the bed, sinking into the mattress slightly. He was someone she had been able to talk to. To be open with. What was she to him?

Suddenly, Ferene stood up, looking around the room. There was a large piece of furniture against one wall, with a mirror on the front, reaching from near the floor to almost her face. She moved in front of it, far enough back to see her full reflection.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

At some point, she had changed.

No longer did she wear stolen clothes, taken from the people she had killed and washed of their blood. Her clothes fit her properly, the cloak she had received in Wellent showing some wear after her careless journey from there to here, but still better than anything she had worn before.

Ferene cared what Velan thought of her. Beyond just if he was scared of her, or if he would attack her. When had she started doing that? When she first met Tullund, she didn’t think about things like that. She separated from him when she could, not learning about him. Had she ever stopped to think about what Linara thought of her?

Rilya was different. They didn’t need to know. Those kinds of thoughts didn’t matter. Doubts filled her mind. What did Rilya think now, since Ferene couldn’t return? Suddenly she wanted to be back there, to wrap her arms around the taller Hatharen, to hold her close.

Turning away from the mirror, Ferene stared back at the bed. She had come here on her own, to this place that she never would have picked before. Never would have been able to stay in.

Her thoughts drifted to Cerise, again. Her time with the princess, when she didn’t want to let her be too close, but didn’t forcefully push her away.

Ferene found it hard to breathe.

There was a knock at the door, and the moment was over. She moved to it instantly, pulling it open. Velan stood there, smiling at her. She opened her mouth, trying to say something. Anything.

“I didn’t think you’d be back.” He said to her,

She grabbed him, pulling him towards her, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” He asked, doing his best to hug her back with his arms pinned to his sides.

“Yes.” She said, letting go of him. He stepped into the room, and she closed the door behind him. “I…” She started, then stopped, wondering what to even say. He just smiled at her, waiting patiently. “It happened again.”

For a moment, he didn’t react, then he nodded, reaching out and taking her hand. “Tell me.”

Sitting down side by side on the bed, Ferene told him about Cerise. He stayed quiet, listening to her talk. Finding her, protecting her on the way north, their time together in Olentor, the journey back down, and the fight at the fort. Her mistakes. Yenra’s reaction. At the end of it, he was still holding her hand.

“It keeps happening.” Ferene said.

“Do you think people just stop making mistakes?” Velan asked. Ferene frowned at him, confused. “You will make a mistake, and then another, and then another. You’ll do your best to avoid making the same mistake twice, but it isn’t always something you can avoid. You are thinking, what if you had been there, to protect her, to save her. Right?”

Ferene nodded.

“What if at the end of the day both you and her were dead?” Ferene froze, her body tense. “I know that you can fight, but you haven’t always won, have you? What if you lost there? You lived. Not from cowardice - you weren’t hiding, but trying your best to help. Things happened the way they did, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“It keeps happening.” Ferene said. “I leave someone and they die. Cerise died when I wasn’t there. Amelia died when I wasn’t there. Jall died when I wasn’t there.”

“Who is Jall?” He asked.

Ferene’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t wanted to say that. “He…he relied on me. He was the first.”

“Tell me about him.”

Ferene hesitated, then took a deep breath, and started talking.

Jall was one of the other children that grew up in the bandit camp with her. He was a runt. They all called him that. Short, weak, and pathetic. Fairly early on the adults stopped making him take part in the practice fights the children had, since he would never win. It wasn’t entertaining. That didn’t stop Jall from trying, though. The adults taught him to steal rather than fight.

After her mother died, Jall was the only one that talked to Ferene about it. She couldn’t even remember what he said, just that he tried. After that, Ferene tried to protect him whenever she could. When she got her sword from the knight on the road, Jall was the only one she told what she was going to do. She told him to get ready to leave, and when she killed the bandit leader, she left with him, running away with her sword and some money she stole, leaving the rest of the camp to fall apart without leadership.

When they arrived in a nearby city, she gave half of the money to Jall, told him to buy food and clothes. They would make a new life for themselves. She remembered him smiling up at her, looking so happy before they went off in different directions.

The next time she saw him, he was dead. His limp, bloodstained body hanging in a square in the center of the city. Executed and set on display, a warning to anyone else as to what happens if you get caught stealing from merchants in the city. Ferene didn’t know why he would do that. What he had been thinking, what he had tried to steal. Only that the closest thing she had to a friend was dead, another common criminal, just like the ones she had been trying to escape from. He was a thief and would always be one, just as she was a killer and would always be one.

“What do you think he would say if he saw you now?” Velan asked after Ferene finished her story.

“What?”

“Dressed like this, staying in a place like this. Strong. Still alive. A traveler that has seen more than most people will in their lives. A survivor. Someone who saved people. Tell me, how many people have you saved?”

“I don’t know.”

“You saved me, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Ferene said.

“And after that? Did you save anyone after you left?”

Krista. “There was a girl. A slave. I think she would have died if I wasn’t there.”

“What would Jall say if he knew you saved her? Saved me?”

“I don’t know.” What would Jall have said? She couldn’t even think of it. What had he thought of her? She had just wanted to help him. He wasn’t a killer, not like the rest of the people in the camp. That’s all she remembered.

“I think you’re a hero, Ferene. A real one, one that makes mistakes. One that isn’t infallible, isn’t perfect, but is just a person doing the best she can, even when things go wrong. You didn’t stop after what happened to Jall. You didn’t stop after what happened to Amelia. You didn’t stop after what happened to Cerise.”

Ferene stayed silent, and Velan raised his hand, slowly stroking her hair, before moving upwards, touching her head. “I know you’re trying. Tell me more. You’ve helped others, haven’t you? Even after all the times you failed, you don’t stop trying.”

“I met someone who told me about the Knights of Resh. More about them. I think they were bad people, even if they wanted the right thing. Like me. But I would have fought them. They would have fought me.” She wasn’t looking at him, but could feel him beside her. With one hand, he held hers, and with his other he gently rubbed her head. He did all this for her. “Do you like it here?”

A small laugh. “It is interesting. I’m learning a lot. They will let me learn whatever I want. There are multiple libraries, for different subjects. I have to learn some amount of useful things, then go out into the world and teach what I have learned, spreading the knowledge to the people, improving lives, while also gaining more knowledge. Eventually, I will come back, and write down what I have learned for the next students to build on.”

Ferene had no idea how any of that worked. She nodded. “What did you learn?”

He took his hand off her head, instead making a gesture with it, spreading his fingers and then closing his fist. “Farming techniques, mostly. There are a vast amount of different methods, for different types of land. I want to bring some back to my village, to improve that. It is part of the deal.”

Ferene remembered the gardens on the sides of the mountains in Yonthal. Did the humans know how to do that? Could he learn from the Hatheren there, or teach them how to do it better? They would never let him in. She wanted to help him, but couldn’t. “I wish I could help.”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you. I’d be dead on the road, my things stolen from me. The books I brought were added to libraries and helped me earn a place inside. The gift you left me was also helpful. I didn’t even have to sell it. There are a lot of uses for quicksilver and they were happy to have a sample.”

Ferene nodded.

“I was really worried when you weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry.”

He paused. “I thought that maybe I had done something wrong.”

“I…there’s…there’s a woman that I love. Someone else. Far away from here.”

“And?”

“And there’s you.” Ferene blushed. “Is that too many?”

Again, he laughed. “You’re a hero, Ferene. What kind of hero doesn’t have a lover in every major city?”

She blinked.

“It’s a…well, part of the idea. I can’t fault others for seeing you the same way, or you for liking others.”

She turned to look at him. “I can’t talk to anyone else the way I can talk to you. Like this. It feels good to talk to you. I wanted to see you just to talk.”

He frowned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just to talk? No other reason?”

She nodded, and he let out a sigh. “Ferene, I want to do a lot more with you than just talk. I want to lay you down, naked, and kiss you all over. Is that a problem?”

She hadn’t even thought of that. What he had done for her before. What he allowed her to do. Apparently he had been considering the opposite. “I…I’m dirty.”

“Then go bathe. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Nodding, Ferene took off her armor, before leaving the room.

“Are you busy? Can you stay?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Velan replied. She had her arms wrapped around him, his back against her chest.

“I mean, when do you need to go back to your books?”

“I can stay the night, and I’ll be here in the morning. Will you?” He asked, and Ferene felt guilty.

She squeezed him, pressing him against her tightly. “I will. I want to go and talk to…the general, but I can wait a few days. A week, maybe.”

She could feel him breathing, slowly, calmly. “You don’t need to wait that long. I will enjoy my time with you, but I won’t keep you. I can visit you everyday. Just promise me that you’ll come visit me again sometime.”

“I…” She wanted to, but she hesitated. “I’ll try to come back. I promise that I’ll try. I don’t know what I’ll do, where I’ll go, how long it will take.”

“That’s good enough.”