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The Untitled
Chapter 15: The Lark and the Wind

Chapter 15: The Lark and the Wind

There had been more than a few postings of Diablos quests when they took the one they were looking for from the Quest Wall. Kean had taken the initiative in signing the two groups up himself, though no one was thinking about who signed the papers as all four were trekking through the desert together, silent as could be. They stayed a few meters apart from each other, making certain that a sudden Blos appearance could only get one of them at a time.

Although the heat was oppressive, Sarah felt little of it thanks to her armor, which had been gemmed with decorations that chilled her chakra to keep her body temperature regulated. As such, the cool drinks in her pouch were simply spares should anyone else require them. She couldn’t help but look over at Tyr and think of how different he looked. His casual mixed set suited him, she thought, in a way that Adaline’s far-too revealing armor suited her as well. He looked handsome, and she was reminded of her first night back home when Adaline had said something similar. Kean’s voice snapped her attention away and over to a distant Blos.

At the same time, Tyr and Adaline took off in another direction, apparently headed for a second Diablos. With no time to waste if she was going to keep her husband happy, Sarah whipped out her bow and a paralyzing vial of arrow coating. She slammed the vial into the slot, and a tiny blade tore through the cap, while keeping the toxins inside. When they were close enough for her shots to make a noticeable impact, Sarah notched an arrow with practiced ease, the draw of the string loosing some of the paralytic toxin in a small burst that coated the arrow’s tip. She channeled her chakra into that arrow, giving it power, speed and thinning the arrow to increase its piercing capability; when she let it fly it flew straight through the Blos’s thick carapace and out the other side.

Without waiting for Kean to get into range, Sarah fired a second arrow, and then a third, each arrow creating another small hole and filling the wyvern’s blood with the paralytic coating. The Blos might’ve thought to charge its assailant if it could’ve found her soon enough, but Kean’s own set was designed to make certain that didn’t happen. Specifically, he wore a charm that made him a beacon, one that focused any monster’s attention on him. From a distance, and with her enemy focused elsewhere, she could better gauge how well Kean was faring, and when, or even if, he would need her to fire her specially designed recovery coatings. It was a coating that used powder instead of liquid, and was nearly useless at the range she was at, but that was a problem very easily solved.

It was tempting for her to check and see how her sister was doing with her own fight. She wondered at Adaline’s skill level, given that they had begun training at nearly the same time. Who had a superior training style? Had Adaline received tutelage from a Switch Axe master like Sarah had with the Bow? Sarah was so lost in thought that the Blos was halfway to her by the time she noticed it was moving at all.

With all the dexterity that Kean had boasted of, Sarah raced to her right, drawing another shot as she checked the level of paralyze coating left in the bottle. She had just enough to fire a final volley, so instead of charging her chakra into a narrow band, she sliced it through the arrow lengthwise. When the Blos curved its path to match hers, Sarah stopped herself on a dime and kicked backward. The twin-horned wyvern flew past her, flinging sand high into the air as Sarah let her arrow loose, and the force of the string splintered her arrow into five even sections.

This volley was enough to cripple the Blos again. It struggled against the toxins while Sarah calmly loaded a bottle of poison coating and began firing, trading distance for increased damage and potency. If it could have, Sarah knew the Blos would’ve roared in a mix of anger and pain, but the introduction of health-sapping venom into its system would hopefully end its life before it had to chance to move again. She felt sorry for the beast, and her fingers hesitated for just a second before pulling each new arrow to make certain that she hurt it no more than necessary. Perhaps it would cost them their game, but at least Sarah would save some of herself in doing so.

Kean felt no such hesitation, and the reckless abandon which he threw into every blow was evidence enough of that. His spikes gave him the distinct advantage over even a dual blade wielder when it came to speed of strikes, but he focused so much on inflicting hits to a monster’s vulnerable spots that he missed out on half of the openings available to him. Sarah was no expert, but she couldn’t help but feel like he was holding himself back, and yet she would defer to Kean whenever he gave instructions or advice. It simply wasn’t her nature to disagree with her husband, because his view of the world was so rigid that it was useless trying to convince him of something contrary to what he was certain of. Luckily for Sarah, he had little concept of how a bow actually worked and left her specific choices in battle up to her.

A short while later, the Blos coughed its final breath and Sarah had her bow folded and stowed before it hit the ground. Kean gave the beast a final thrust, just to make certain of its lifelessness before he allowed himself to grab his carving knife. As he pulled a fang from the wyvern’s mouth, Adaline’s voice rang out from the tail. “It’s about time. We were beginning to think you’d need some help.”

“How long have you been done?” Kean asked, panting slightly.

“About two minutes,” Tyr chimed in from where he was sitting atop a nearby dune.

Sarah smiled to herself at how effortless Tyr made the achievement sound. “Congratulations,” she said before her husband could retort. “I suppose this means you’ve proven yourselves to be a better team than Kean and I against the Diablos.”

“I suppose they have,” Kean said, sheathing his saber roughly. “We should be getting back to the castle, and tomorrow I’ll have to observe your hunting so I can help with your decision on a fourth member.”

Tyr smiled as Adaline moved up, leaned herself against him, and gave him a kiss. Sarah felt like she should do the same, but Kean’s armor had often made that difficult in the past, and so she settled for watching the other two. She even felt a twinge of sickness when Tyr’s strong arm stayed around her sister’s waist as they walked backed home. Kean whispered something to her which she didn’t catch at first, but which she hardly needed to in order to understand.

“… no matter how many battles it takes. I’ll do it. For you, Sarah.”

“Kean, you don’t need to be a Legend for me to care for you.”

“I must be certain,” he said, eyeing the other two. “That you never feel like you have less than her. If she is going to marry a Legend, then I will make certain you have nothing less for your husband.”

He never understood that he was doing it for himself, or that they shouldn’t care what Adaline had. Sarah knew that she was more responsible than her sister, that she was every bit as beautiful, and even that her father preferred to have Sarah entertain foreign dignitaries whenever possible. She’d been given gifts of beautiful dresses and stunning jewelry, allowed the freedom to go to any city she wanted at a moment’s notice, and was always praised as an exemplary student. She’d even been the first to marry because of how many requests her father had received. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that Sarah had always been her father’s favorite child, the favorite of not just Fahrenn, but Loc Lac too, and yet her eyes never strayed from the arm around her sister’s waist.

~

The arena crowd was booming for a lot of reasons that day. Not only was one of their princesses going to compete for the first time, but rumor had it that her squad was looking to recruit a fourth member based on arena performance. As with all rumors in Fahrenn, it was taken as an absolute. Every hunter in the city was there that day, and so time limits had to be strictly enforced in order to ensure everyone got their fair turn. City guards that wanted to keep their jobs had been forbidden from participating, and those few who were there for their own entertainment had been asked to wait until the next day. There was a waiting list half a kilometer long.

The Untitled walked out into the arena at the crack of dawn, the stadium packed with roaring citizens despite the early hour. Tyr had missed this, and both of his compatriots could see it in his grin. They waved in unison, letting the thunderous applause reverberate through their very souls. Although Adaline had been the center of attention many times before, the arena had a way of amplifying that attention to a magnitude that even her qualification ceremony hadn’t quite managed. She whipped out her switch axe as the gates opened, almost nervous. As good as she and Tyr had been yesterday, today had to be flawless.

Where Kean had managed to get a Brachydios on such short notice was anyone’s guess, but the blue brute wyvern was a rather impressive opponent. Like many brutes, it had evolved to fight most effectively with its head, which had grown a jutting protrusion covered in a naturally green secretion. If the rumors could be taken as an absolute, that liquid was much like the compound in Adaline’s switch axe phials – it exploded when agitated sufficiently. This particular brute had not just specialized in its head, however, as both arms came to large nubs that mimicked its horn. It kicked at the sand beneath its feet curiously before it noticed the trio.

Sarah had stopped holding her breath in the arena a long time ago, it seemed to her, but it had only been a few months. Up in the royal box with her father and husband, she couldn’t have been safer. Even if it had been the Rajang, or a Rathalos, if any monster so much as pointed its mouth in their direction then the gunning guardsmen would put it down. Yet, watching the fight she found herself sitting forward, her heart racing at every near miss.

Kean, meanwhile, observed the fight with folded hands, trying to find gaps in The Untitled’s fighting style that could be fixed. To his great disappointment, there wasn’t much to improve upon. Tyr had all the fluid grace that Kean had heard great katana wielders possessed. His slashes were controlled and powerful, and he could Fade Slash in any direction, not just the standard three. Even against an opponent he’d never faced before, he took almost no time at all to adapt his technique into something both effective and practical, even with the limited chakra he was fighting with. Then again, Kean reminded himself, the longsword really only had so many options.

Orion and Adaline were much too flashy to be the most-effective fighters, but since their styles seldom crossed paths with each other, or with Tyr, Kean mostly just had to account for the spaces they were taking up. Adaline and her acrobatic maneuvers had her flying through the air more often than not, keeping her well above where most weapons would be. With Orion almost always in the same place, or trying to get back to that place when he was finally flung free from it, there was little-to-no chance of any other class interrupting him either. The only real issue with their dynamic would be those monsters where air and back strikes would be meaningless, such as the Gravios. With those being the rarity, however, Kean had to consider the other options.

Anyone with a shield would simply slow down their endless onslaught. Any weapons heavy-enough to bludgeon a wyvern would likely end up getting in Tyr or Adaline’s way, and any weapon they already had would be a superfluous addition. Kean’s own style could’ve helped them significantly, provided that Tyr knew his place as well as he seemed to. Still, Kean wasn’t about to join any group, so there was only one option left.

They needed a distance striker. It was the obvious choice. Someone with support capabilities that could hold an opponent still or target those few areas that their slashing and piercing attacks couldn’t reach. It would also fit nicely into their setup without requiring the group to adapt much. Mechanically speaking, in fact, a gunner was the only option which made sense. That was the beauty of gunners though, they could fit into almost any team.

Having decided this moments before the Brachydios fell, he leaned back into his chair and clapped just a few times while the crowd did their typical cheering. “They’re certainly better than I expected them to be,” Kean said to his wife as she applauded enthusiastically. “But I think that a ranged support member would finish their roster most-effectively.”

Sarah looked as though she was considering the option, which was hardly necessary. “I think you’re right, my dear. Is there a particular type of weapon which you think they might prefer over the others?”

“The light bowgun would best suit their rapid attack style.”

“Not the bow?” she asked. It was typical of her to think of the bow as a ranged weapon suiting anything, just as those with a hammer saw every problem as one you could smash.

“The bow is too slow for their style. Since the arrows take time to hit their target, any movement from the wyvern, Adaline, or even Tyr could mess up a well-aimed shot.”

“Yes, and a good archer knows how to compensate for that. Bowguns aren’t instant hits either.”

“But the shots do travel faster for those who don’t have your piercing, my love.”

He was right, and she knew it, but she had seen such a chance for a bow to work with their setup. Adaline provided wind speed and direction with her hair and clothing midair, which was less useful for bowgunners unless they were at a close enough distance to appreciate the same information, thus negating their advantage. Orion’s methods could be greatly assisted with arrow-sized rungs to climb with, something which a bowgunner could never hope to provide. Tyr, regrettably, wouldn’t have been affected by the presence of an archer, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about the explosive and bursting shots that some bowgunners would bring to the table.

“Why not a heavy bowgun?” she asked.

“Too much of a distraction. A slow-moving gunner would bring most enemies to themselves, taking away valuable time for no benefit.”

“What about a stealth build?”

“What about it?”

“It would keep them from distracting the monsters, wouldn’t it?”

“While taking away from their own damage output significantly, yes.”

“I didn’t know that they needed any help in the damage department.”

“Sarah, my love” Kean said, oddly without his usual condescension. “Would you like to check on your sister? You look worried.”

Sarah hadn’t even realized that she’d been gripping the edge of her seat until she let it go. Her face flushed slightly.

“No need to check on us,” Adaline said as the Untitled entered “What did you think of our performance, Kean?”

“It was a good show, to be certain. The crowd was quite taken with you.” Tyr stepped into sight then, his hand on the small of Adaline’s back. “And you are a worthier rival than I’ve given you credit for. Your technique is quite admirable given your weapon choice.”

“Thank you, Kean. I only wish I had the patience to use a weapon as small as your saber.”

“There is a reason that not all of us are royalty.” Somewhere in the background the next fight was announced, but no one was paying attention. “As for your team, I do believe I’ve found how to fill the gap I observed.”

“Enlighten us,” Tyr replied with a smile Kean didn’t understand.

“A bowgun would be best. A light bowgun, specifically, to keep up with your blitzkrieg style.” Tyr’s grin had only widened, but Adaline’s expression had turned sour. “Are you opposed to gunners, Adaline?”

“Not at all,” Tyr said, breaking formal tradition again. “We just had a bet on what you’d say.”

“He won. And I am highly disappointed that you don’t see the advantages of a hunting horn.”

“I do not see them because there are none,” Kean retorted.

“Besides the knockouts, and the exhaust, and the power, and them being incredibly useful for any group thanks to the songs.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“They would be almost entirely support in a group like yours. You don’t leave openings wide-enough for them to do half of what you listed. Besides that, the LBG’s rapid fire capabilities, especially with elemental shots, more than makes up for the potential boosts most horns wou-.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Adaline concluded, apparently melting into Tyr and his bad habits. Sarah remembered how she’d felt that comfortable in his arms. She hadn’t actually melted – hadn’t let herself – but she’d felt as though she could’ve. Together with Adaline though, Tyr was having the exact opposite effect on both Sarah and her husband.

“At least your leader has seen reason,” Kean said, turning his eyes to the fight in the arena center.

“Actually,” Tyr said, snapping Kean’s attention back. “I just knew you were going to say it. Honestly, I don’t really know what would be good for us. That’s why we’re holding this whole event instead of sending people home right now.” Sarah leaned forwards, half-smiling behind her husband’s back. “I’ll know what we need when I see it.”

Kean was more than a bit put off. Tyr wasn’t just thoughtless, he was openly so. Whether it was his ignorance, his stubborn will, or something else, Kean didn’t know, but he had to put an end to it. “Tyr, if you won’t take my advice and narrow the field, then it is entirely likely we’ll be here the entire day.”

“You can leave anytime you like, Kean. I’ll be here as long as it takes.”

They were words Tyr would come to regret. The arena was largely uneventful after The Untitled made their appearance, and even worse was that every hunter looked towards the royal booth when they were done, as if expecting some indication of how well they performed. Tyr did his best to wave to each of them, which he hoped wasn’t too encouraging, but it seemed rude to him to simply sit there and clap a few times like the others. By midday, however, his arms were getting tired, and his stomach growled audibly for food. Without missing a beat, Adaline and Sarah had both snapped their fingers. Sarah graciously allowed Adaline to order them all something to eat while she provided Tyr with one of her own energy drinks.

Lunch only provided so much of a distraction, and when it was over it seemed there was an even greater lull. It wasn’t that none of the hunters were skilled, or even that they hadn’t put on a great show, but everyone was getting tired of watching with nothing else to do. Tyr’s main issue was that he’d seen almost every single competitor before. He knew that most of them would never be compatible with his group, whether it was their personality or their style. But what could he do? What if they’d changed? What if he saw something different today? And yet no one surprised him, so he found himself bored.

The arena had never failed to entertain him when he was a guard – when his chakra was still in pieces – and so he’d thought it could hold him through the day. But as sol dragged itself through the sky, and hunter after hunter competed for his attention, it took away everything that had held him there at all. More than once, he found himself staring at Adaline instead of the arena floor, and it took a little longer each time for him to remember he had to look away. But when he looked back to the arena, he had to fight to keep himself from yawning.

It was during the twilight hour - when the city, in its blaze of color, began to quiet, and most had left the arena - that a middle-aged wyverian hunter walked out into the arena. He wielded a longsword and wore the clothes of a far-eastern hunter, perhaps he was from Yukumo or the Eastern Continent, but it was impossible to tell. What was quite easy to tell was that he wore his katana at his side rather than on his back, the blade sticking out behind him like a stiff tail. Tyr’s boredom was gone in an instant.

“Kean,” Tyr said, stepping to the ledge to get a better view. “Do you suppose he practices the Lightning Draw or just the standard Eastern style?”

“No matter which it is, both styles would hardly be an addition to your team.” Kean examined the older man thoughtfully. “Even if it is impressive that he thinks he could be at his age.”

“Age is not a factor in a hunt,” Tyr said as the Eastern hunter looked directly at him.

“You are the Former Guardian of Nifila,” the man called up, and the crowd fell silent. There was a power to his voice that rang through distant memories. “Leader of The Untitled.”

“It’s just Tyr now. And you are?”

There was a moment, perhaps of hesitation, or perhaps to let Tyr find that memory he was searching for. “I am called many things,” the man said. “But only one that is worth repeating.”

Tyr smiled, and so did the distant figure in the center of the sands. A second katana would certainly take some work to fit in. “I would love to hear it.”

“Then listen.” The older hunter nodded his head, which the announcer took as a signal to release his opponent. A Brachydios lumbered in, much to everyone’s surprise, testing the sand like its cousin had before. Tyr’s grin grew wide.

“He’s got style,” Tyr said. “I think we might have our winner.”

“You must be kidding,” Kean said as the hunter lowered his stance, one hand on his hilt and the second below the guard on its sheath. “He wouldn’t benefit the group any more than a dual blade user. The power helps, but a support hunter is what you lack, not some…”

“Legend.” Everyone gave Tyr a hard look. “He’s the Sword Saint.”

There wasn’t an eye in the royal box that didn’t fly back to the arena center. “It can’t be,” Adaline said, already on her feet and next to Tyr. “The Sword Saint hasn’t made such a public appearance since he became a Legend.”

“Well,” Sarah said as she joined them at the railing. “He must have a reason to now.” Just as she said it, the Brachydios lunged. In less time than a blink, with one fluid movement, the Sword Saint leapt past the brute’s attack. The Legend whipped himself around in midair, his blade slicing cleanly into the wyvern’s hide before being slid back into its starting position. Even Kean stood up then.

As the Sword Saint landed, the Brachy had already turned around, and the giant beast once again slammed slime-coated fists into the sand. The Sword Saint spun back, cut, and sheathed his blade all in a single motion, repeating the evasive-attack with each new blow. The Brachydios let out a roar that stunned its opponent. As the Legend struggled through the echoes, the brute slammed its giant horn downwards, but it hit nothing but sand. The wyverian hunter was rushing up it’s skull as the explosive slime seeped into the arena floor.

As the Brachy flung its head back, the Sword Saint flipped himself over, slashing across its back before landing heavily. He sprung past the beast’s legs as it tried to turn itself, delivering twin cuts. His blade was so seldom out of its sheathe that even as the Legend cut upwards with a third strike into the tail, Tyr still couldn’t make out what materials it was made from. With a slam of its mace-like tail, the Brachydios knocked a cloud of dust into the air. That obstructed the view of the crowd, but it also highlighted the flashes of red accompanying every hit that the Sword Saint delivered.

“He’s focused his armor around critical draw strikes,” Kean said, hardly able to hear his own words over the roar of the crowd. “And even when he should be vulnerable to a strike he is attacking.” The dust settled, and the Sword Saint’s blade whipped against the horn of his opponent, cutting deeply. “That’s a level of Quick Sheathe I didn’t know was possible. Especially with a longsword…” The distance between himself and the Legendary Hunters seemed to grow infinitely wide. Another swipe, another clean counter. Every move his opponent made, besides the roars, was used in his favor. But he saw a weakness.

When the Sword Saint moved, he wasn’t as fast as Kean could be. He was deliberate, but he wasn’t untouchable. That much was proven as he stepped too close to an explosive puddle and was rocketed sideways by the blast. The wyverian recovered and spin-slashed his way out of the follow-up, but he wasn’t as untouchable as Asuza had been. The gulf narrowed.

“He doesn’t waste a movement.” The others were all fascinated with him, but the crowd was in love. Another near miss with the Brachy’s tail, only for it to end up rolling along the sandy floor, had them screaming for more. Another incredible leap through the air towards his enemy and they gasped. The slash lopped off the brute’s horn in an explosive flash that sent the Legend rolling, but he was on his feet before the wyvern knew how to respond.

It must have dawned on someone in the crowd, because soon there were murmurs running rampant through the stadium beneath the shouting. A soft roar spread like wildfire while the Sword Saint battled the Brachydios with practiced ease. By the time it reached the royal box, Tyr was grinning from ear to ear, and Kean was more confident than ever. “My lords and ladies,” a guard said said over the crowd. “It’s him. It’s the Sword Saint.” The comment was almost too late.

Lowering himself into a wider stance, the Legend waited for the limping wyvern to pounce again. This time, instead of bounding away or past the attack, he lowered himself further and slashed into the attack. Metal met slime-covered scale, tore through and simultaneously deflected the blow just enough so that it landed a foot away. The Legend spun away from the dying explosion. The blow must have shattered something inside the Brachydios’ body, because it simply slumped down to the ground. The crowd, expecting some incredible finishing display, was met with only a slow sheathing, and a pause just before the final click, which rang out like a gunshot.

Tyr was the first to begin applauding, clapping so hard that it startled Adaline, who’d been so wrapped up in the fight she’d forgotten to breathe. Soon, everyone was applauding, whistling, and hollering as well, and Kean was making his way down towards the arena, pushing citizens out of his way. His wife, sister, and rival followed suit, with only the King staying behind in his booth.

“Honored Sword Saint,” Kean began, bowing as he approached the Legend. “Let me be the first to welcome you to Fahrenn.”

“Not the first, Blood Thorn Prince, though first in other paths.” He spoke with a heavy voice, lined deep with age and experience. The thusly named Legend turned his attention from the royal’s outstretched hand and bowed his head to Tyr. “You take up more of the world than you once did.”

“I am surprised that you remember me. But I remember you, Kensei.” Kean had never heard the term before, and by the time it clicked why he could do nothing to stop it. Tyr had just addressed Legend by name. “What brings you to Fahrenn?”

“Rumors of a rising star returning to the city which it fell to,” Kensei said. “The tale of those with only names, one which rings true to my ears.”

“We would be honored with your presence,” Tyr said. Orion, at the same moment, nearly tripped as he rushed out to join them, since he’d been sitting with the guards.

“Tyr!” Orion shouted, apparently unaware of his proximity to the group. “This guy, he’s…”

“Going to be joining us as our fourth,” Tyr finished, letting Orion catch his breath. “His name is Kensei.”

“It is a great honor.” Kensei bowed his head to those assembled, many of whom were far from comfortable with being able to call a Legend by their name to their face. Addressing a guard or a member of the royalty informally had been hard enough for some of them. But to call a Legend by just their name? It felt wrong, but it would’ve been worse to offend him if he was going to be Untitled.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tyr announced to the crowd. “This is Kensei, and he has proven himself the victor in our little competition.” It gave him no small pleasure to be done with that responsibility, although he knew there would be unhappy hunters who had yet to fight. On top of that, the confusion that ran rampant through the stands was almost physical, and certainly audible. If not the legendary Sword Saint, then who was this Kensei that grabbed the royals’ attention? Few would ever find out.

“Thank you all for coming.”

Kensei was one of the most respected and respectful of the Legends in the world. He spoke in carefully crafted sentences that sounded like riddles to most, but Tyr seemed perfectly at home chatting away with the foreign hunter. The two spoke for hours at a time, and oftentimes Sarah or Orion would simply stop trying to understand them in favor of listening to the beautiful way in which Kensei spoke instead. Kean, to the best of his abilities, would also converse with the Legendary Sword Saint, but found it a taxing endeavor.

Kensei didn’t care to tell the stories of his former hunts, nor did he talk about politics, religion, gambling, monsters, fighting techniques, armor skills, weaponry, or any of the many subjects that hunters regularly discussed. What he did talk about covered gentler subjects like art, architecture, language, history, science, and especially philosophy, a subject in which he and Tyr had much in common. The two of them spoke so much and so often that Adaline was beginning to get jealous by the third day.

“I understand that he’s a Legend,” she said as they settled into her bed for the evening. “But you’re my Legend.” Since the announcement, she had taken to calling him ‘her Legend.’ It was a bit of caution that came from her more superstitious side, but Tyr hardly minded.

“I’m sorry, Addy. It’s just that he’s always been a hero to me. Not because he’s a Legend, but back when I saw him walk through Nifila all those years ago I knew that he hunted for the same reasons I did. I’d never met anyone who hunted for those reasons before. It was always power, or protecting people, or fashion or…” He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling while Adaline snuggled her bare form against his. “I know I probably sound like I’m some sort of Legendite, but when I put the pieces together I couldn’t believe Kensei was the Sword Saint. He really inspired me back then.”

“Well, you inspire me, Tyr,” she whispered as she trailed her nails down along his chest.

He shook his head with a smile, then kissed her forehead and squeezed her close. “If you were any sweeter I’d have to use you as Arzuros bait.”

Instead of responding, Adaline just let her hand slide down beneath the covers as she kissed his neck.

Just outside their door, Sarah could never tell exactly what was happening. She could only hear the noises. Some of them were soft and meant to be hidden, others unabashedly passionate as they tore through the chill of the night air. Every night since she returned she heard those sounds, and every night her heart thudded with fear and desire.

Kean was an excellent lover and husband. He was powerful, eager, and had boundless stamina. He made certain that she was always satisfied, comfortable, happy. He did everything right, but still she found herself outside Adaline’s door, her ear pressed to the black dragonwood. Her eyes closed, and she let herself melt at each heavy sigh, tense with every small cry, and shiver at the cold which never seemed to calm her. “Why,” she whispered to the wood, her only comfort. “Oh gods, why?”

“They say…” Kensei’s voice startled her so much that she had to cover her mouth to keep from shouting. “Even the tiniest flame glows brightest at its base.”

Flushed from what she felt was head to toe, Sarah turned slowly to face him and then walked deliberately past him before she could respond. “I… I don’t understand,” she said in a whisper that only the night would allow for conversation.

Kensei followed her, even without prompt. “All things, from the thoughtless huskberry to the Great Mountain Dragon know where Sol is in the sky, yet none of them know the winds before they blow. How then, do you suppose the lark flies?”

“It must know the winds?”

“To follow is not to know the method but to trust in the path one takes,” Kensei said as they passed the kitchens, empty of even the most dedicated students of the culinary arts. “The wind beneath her wings, is it meant for her? She cannot know if she does not let it take her.”

“Kensei,” she sighed, unable to grasp at such metaphors even in her best state of mind. “I wish that I could understand what it is you’re trying to tell me.”

“You will,” he said as they stopped outside the gardens. “Inevitably, all who seek answers find them, though not all answers are happy ones.”

The night sky was beautiful and vast, blanketed with stars that formed the northern constellations. Sarah had always found the Kirin beautiful, a dozen stars that formed the four-legged elder dragon. It was so vastly different from the other elder dragons she’d heard of. A white-maned, four-legged beast with a single glinting horn, charged with electric energy, that galloped across the sky. She wished it could take her with it, far away from her confusion and pain. And although she wasn’t awake to see it, the Kirin dipped below the horizon just before dawn the next morning.

Kensei and Tyr were deep in discussion when Adaline and Orion joined them.

“The beauty of solrise isn’t something as relative as the beauty of a wyvern,” Tyr said with a smile for his tired teammates. “Sol himself is the light we use to see the wonders of the world, and so when he peeks over the world’s edge, lighting up everything else that we find appealing…” Here he paused to let Adaline slide up against his side. “He is beautiful in that he brings beauty to light.”

“The flutist may not always catch my eye, but her music is certain to move my soul.”

“About our plans from here,” Tyr began before giving Adaline a small kiss. “Kensei suggested that we make our way to Dondruma next. What do you both think of that?”

“I’d rather not go anywhere so concentrated with Guild activity,” Adaline said. “I don’t appreciate the way they’ve treated you.”

“Is there anywhere without it though? It might just be a demon we have to face sooner than later,” Tyr reminded her.

Orion shook his head. “Then I’d rather make it later, Tyr. The Guild tried to have you killed, and I’m not going anywhere they’ll have the home advantage if they try again.”

“Okay,” Tyr said. “Where would you suggest?”

“If you’re looking to get away from Guild territory,” Kean said as he and Sarah walked into the gardens, “Then you might want to try the Sekumaeya.”

“You mean Mezaporta?” Adaline asked. “Wasn’t it abandoned after the Age of Discovery?”

“Not entirely,” Sarah said. “We heard, back in Loc Lac, that there’s still a settlement down there, mostly unwatched by the Guild since the area is considered a hive of dangerous monsters. It’s said that everyone who lives there is a Hunter, and that any of them would be G Rank if they just registered themselves.”

“So, we’re gonna try to double the town’s size?” Orion asked with a smile.

“With four people?” Adaline countered.

“Six,” Kean said. “Sarah and I have decided to travel along with you.”

The other Untitled all looked to Tyr, certain that he would’ve had to know something about this beforehand. His look confirmed that he hadn’t. “If you’re going to be Untitled then you’ll have to take the oath.”

“We never said anything abou-“ Kean began.

“Then we’ll take it,” Sarah said, stepping past her husband. There was more than one shocked face in the crowd, small as it was.

“My Dear Wife,” Kean said, trying to pull Sarah back gently. “We should discuss this.”

“It’s just joining a squad, My Prince. It’s not as though we’re signing over our lives, just agreeing to follow their rules while we travel with them.” She smiled at him sweetly, but Kean couldn’t help but feel like she was being insincere somehow. He couldn’t tell how, but he had a sense about that sort of thing. “We said that we would go with them, didn’t we? This isn’t that much of a price to pay to do so.”

Tyr stood up, Adaline and Orion behind him. Kensei, silently realizing his presence was needed, took his place in line with the others. “Sarah,” Tyr said, his eyes locking onto hers. “You’ll have to remove any identifying pieces of armor or jewelry. Kean, you may as well if you plan to follow your wife.”

Although he was silently furious, Kean wasn’t about to abandon Sarah for any reason. Her strong will was something he had done his best to develop, even if he had never meant for her to make such decisions for them. After a long moment, he ripped the chain from the hilt of his saber, bringing with it the small pendant of his family crest. He held onto the short chain, watching it glint in the sunlight. “I,” he started to say, but changed his mind. “I won’t give this up.”

“Then you can keep it,” Tyr replied. “You just can’t wear it.”

Once properly devoid of their former titles, ranks, and family ties, Sarah and Kean recited the oath a moment after Tyr, with the other Untitled.

The conversation continued from there for hours. They discussed strategy, sleeping arrangements, favorable routes, and the things they would undoubtedly have to leave behind. Kensei participated only when necessary, and Kean made the best out of a difficult situation for himself. Orion spoke openly about everything, including the irony of quitting the guard only to end up traveling with both princesses, and Adaline settled herself comfortably in the arms of her Legend, commenting as she saw fit. Tyr spoke without a hint of his still-fractured chakra, and though he held Adaline close his eyes would often rest on Sarah, who watched him whenever she was sure no one was looking, and sometimes when she knew only he was.