Pike's sword swung in blurring arcs, slashing through the air in a complex weaving pattern (trust me, it looks cool in my head). The quarters assigned to him and the Rangers were empty when he returned, and so he had begun his sword exercises. The fighting style that Pike had been taught required an intense level of precision and speed to deliver a quick, killing blow almost instantly, though it left little room for defence. Therefore he practically had to rely on his instincts to anticipate his opponent’s next move, to bypass their defence before they had even moved. This required him to train his body to the point his attacks were instilled into his muscles, into his very being. Back and forth he weaved, cutting down imagined foes, countering imagined blows. Attacks to counter spears. Attacks to counter shields. It did not matter who they were, or how they fought, he would cut them all down. He had nothing to fear.

Yet he had cowered before the One Eyed Man. He had allowed himself to lose.

He spun on his heel and extended his blade with one hand, swinging his blade in a horizontal slash which left a deep gouge on a wooded pole.

What of it? He had only been taken off guard, that was all. He had always known that there were would be monsters more terrible than himself. That’s just how the world was. It had been many long years since he had faced a mortal foe who could match him in combat. Could anyone else say that they had faced the same kind of terror that he had?

Another, deeper gouge was cut into the pole. Pike increased the speed and weight of his attacks, sweat beading from his stripped torso.

He had trained his body to the breaking point. Dedicated his life to mastering the sword. Too many times had he seen how the world punished weakness. Those who could not pick up a sword were fated to be swallowed up by death and despair. Other men might talk about pride, about honour, gather men around them with bribes and gilded lies. But strip them of their finery wealth and followers, they become little more but frightened old men. His father was proof enough of that.

Again, the blade bit into the post, sending wooden shrapnel flying.

Pike would never allow himself to die like his father, weak and powerless. He would never allow himself to feel that fear again. All his life, all that blood he spilled, it was all just training for that fateful day when he would have to face that fear again. And he had failed utterly, without even striking out in defiance. Even in his dreams he could not fight the One Eyed Man. He had cowered like a child, had to be brought back from the brink of death by a pampered noblewoman sold off to some hill-dwelling savages.

And that damn paladin that she had given her smiles too…

Pike roared in battle-fury, letting out all his rage in a single blow. The sword sliced through the pole almost effortlessly. Pike stepped back, panting and drenched in sweat while he observed the collateral damage. He hadn’t expected to work himself up this much.

They better not ask me to pay for this… he thought to himself.

But hold? Footsteps at the door. Obnoxiously loud, yet hesitant. It was those two young Rangers. Pike sighed, the last thing he needed right now was to listen to those hill-savages yapping away.

“Back so soon?” Pike said, not bothering to turn and look at them. “Did the palace guards finally shoo you away?”

Bran and Conn both clenched their teeth tight, more-so to keep their teeth from chattering in fear, than in rage. Pike was impressed however. They apparently could sense danger, now that their “patient” was at full fighting strength again.

"Well out with it," Pike flexed the fingers of his sword-hand. "I can tell that you two are mad about something. Come now, I've hardly had the chance to stir up trouble with you lot. It seems that you two have been too busy getting into fist-fights. Your queen must be very proud…"

"You don't appear to be the one who should be slinging stones, Head Hunter" said Bran with a sneer. "We've been talking to Sir Erasmus, and heard a few interesting stories about you."

"And?" Pike cut in. "What do you care about any of that?"

"Enough joking around!" snapped Conn. "You're a mad dog, is what you are. Our queen could not see it, but we can tell what sort of man you are…"

"Oh? So you're here to scare me into line? Is that it? I suggest you both grow a few feet taller before giving that a shot." Pike chuckled slowly to himself. "It's not my fault that your pretty queen picked up a half-dead wanderer on the side of the road."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"That our queen even felt a shred of pity towards you is more than you deserve," Conn said, coldly. "But that you are alive right now… you should be on your knees, grovelling before Lady Erda!"

"Are you being serious? I didn't ask for your queen's pity. If you don't like that, it's her problem, not mine."

Conn seethed with rage, but Bran laid a hand on his cousin's shoulder and stepped forward. "You wouldn't be saying that, if you knew the price Erda paid to spare your life."

"Fine, go ahead and share your sob story."

"What Erda used to save you from that poison," Bran continued. "Was the sacred treasure of our people. Our most dearly held secret… a leaf from Gungnir, the Tree of Life…"

"Is that what you're all fussed about? A damn leaf?"

"Bastard!" Conn said in fluster. "The Leaves we brought were meant as gifts to the Thane King. Our queen's uncle, one of our people's greatest allies, and we only gave him three of these Leaves. That's how precious even just one of them is. And Lady Erda gave up one of the three, for your wretched life."

"Well don't I feel special now?" Pike said sarcastically. "Go on, next one."

"Gungnir does not flower so much as it once did," said Bran. "There are now only ten of these leaves back home. That means we do not use them lightly."

"A lot of good men and women have refused the Gift of Gungnir," said Conn. "Choosing to die so that the Gift might be used to save another in their stead. Do you even begin to understand the bravery it takes to choose certain death over the gift of life itself? The choice even my father made!"

Pike laughed again. "Is that it? If I understand this correctly, I'm supposed to feel indebted to you because of some nonsense over magic leaves? Ha! If you wanted to guilt me into pledging my sword to your queen, you've failed. I know what you're up to. You're here to beg the Thanes for warriors to fight for you."

Bran and Conn went silent.

"Don't think I haven't been paying attention. Am I supposed to think that your queen bandaged me up out of pity? This was all to turn me into your attack-dog. Well, nice try. The moment I get my hands on fresh supplies, I'm taking a horse out of this city and be back on my way. And all of you can just go straight to hell for all I care!"

"Come now Pike, is that any way to talk about the people that have saved your life?" said a voice from just outside the chamber door. Erasmus stepped through, wearing a heavy cloak over a simple tunic. He looked like he was weary and in some pain, though the sword-cut that Pike had left beneath the Paladin's eye seemed it had begun to heal.

"The hell did you just… say…" Pike's words trailed off. Erasmus stepped aside, and in walked Erda, her white cloak following behind her.

"Lady!" The Ranger cousins exclaimed.

Erda bade the two to leave, the Rangers grumbling to themselves as they left. She then turned to Pike, who realised somewhat uncomfortably that he was half naked before her.

He said nothing.

"Well, I'll leave him to you, Erda. I told you he'd be up an about before long. Our mutual friend here is no doubt keen to be back on the road again."

"What the hell do you think you're doing right now…" The words escaped from Pike without him thinking, while he stared icily at Erasmus.

"I'm only here to give one last checkup on your condition," said Erda. "Even though Sir Erasmus said that there wouldn't be any need. It seems he was right. The average person would still be bedridden for some time after taking the potion brewed from the Gift."

Pike forced a chuckle. "Your magic leaves?"

"Is that so strange? Surely this world holds stranger things than just magic leaves? Why, not couple days past I saw you crawl out of the forest with a wound that would have left anyone else incapacitated. And now here you stand. You are much more of a mystery than my magic leaves." She laughed

Pike looked up, but Erasmus had already left. He was now alone with Erda, this strange, lovely creature.

"Alright enough of this," he said. "Give me some straight answers. I'm sure you heard most of that just now. What is it that you want from me?"

"Want from you? Nothing. I am here to hire warriors, that is true. But as for treating your wounds, you are not expected to repay me for that. When I saw you in the forest, helpless and alone, I made the decision to give you my help. Is that so hard to believe?"

"So it was pity, then? Charity, to pat yourself on the back?"

"Perhaps. I can't say that my decision was not at least a little bit selfish. I don't doubt that I take pleasure in helping those in need, the way others enjoy sport or crafting. If you want me to justify my decision to you, Pike, then I can't do it. I simply don't understand it much myself."

Pike cast his eyes to floor sombrely, then scoffed. "Women. You all speak in riddles… If you want me thank you for the magic leaves or whatever, then… then…"

Erda cocked her head, waiting for Pike to finish.

"… Then I appreciate it."

Erda laughed. Pike's face flushed red. For some reason, he thought of birds singing.

"Such words of praise. I will at least count that as a victory for now. Pike, you're not as bad as you want everyone to think you are." She clapped her hands. “Well then, as you are clearly perfectly healthy, I should be on my way. I have so much more pampering to get done before the day is out."

She strode to the door, leaving Pike standing there, dumbfounded. But Erda halted in the doorway.

"I don't expect you to stay in this city for much longer. But, if you must go. At least try to stay safe. It would be a shame for you to die after all that." She turned and locked eyes with Pike, her blue eyes holding his own, pale gaze. "This world's woes are too heavy to carry on one's own shoulders, no matter how strong you are. It's no bad thing to have a shoulder to lean on."

And with that, Erda left the room. Leaving Pike to stand there, as he ever was, sword in hand, and alone.