“Just a little…” Seamus sighed in frustration as he fiddled with the lock that kept Helen’s shackles in place. The key used to open it was getting jammed inside, proving it a challenge for the young man to unlock it fully.
“Oh, for Delphine’s sake. How hard is it to use a bloody key?”
“It’s stuck! Don’t blame me. You must’ve gotten this lock dirty or something,” Seamus muttered as he forcefully twisted the key. There was then a familiar click, the key finally turning all the way as the shackles came loose. “Got it!” Seamus said, finally satisfied.
Helen dropped her chained cuffs to the ground, sighing as she stretched her arms.
“Fucking finally. Freedom,” she said with a grin, an action that, for some reason, creeped Seamus out. The ex-marauder rotated her shoulder, her blue eyes looking down at the young man who freed her. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just that… What’re you going to do once you leave?” Seamus knew she couldn’t return to the marauders.
“Mercenary work for sure. Then again, I’m going to get rid of this symbol first.” Helen sighed as she rubbed at the red handprint stained on her chest. As she contemplated, Seamus focused on the other side of the deck, where Lilith rested in the farthest corner. He could see Lowe at the other corner, polishing the small cat statue he held.
“Do you mind if I ask about who those two are?” Helen stepped up to Seamus’ side, crossing her arms.
“Well, the gnome worked with my father, and the woman is an orc butcher who saved my life,” Seamus explained. He had no desire to elaborate further. “She also might be related to me.”
“That red hair seems familiar. Is she from Azurvale?”
“No, Lilith was a native who spent her life on the island. The same island we burned down.”
Helen visibly cringed at that. “Tough,” she muttered.
Lilith seemed to have been focused on her own thing, her eyes focused on cleaning the ax she still held. Seamus couldn’t help but feel guilt towards her, as the last vestiges of her home were most definitely burned to cinders.
‘I wonder if anything on that island has survived the fire. We’ll have to check once we’re sure those orcs are gone.’
Suddenly, there was the sound of something pushing against Frostbite, her deck slightly moving beneath everyone’s feet. Lilith tensed up, her hands gripping the nearby barrels as Lowe fell back onto the deck.
Seamus kept his balance, his eyes looking at the ship’s hatch.
“Did those knights finally arrive?” he wondered aloud. Then, the sound of many boots above them was heard, signaling to Seamus that his hunch was right. “How many people do you need to retrieve a bag of vials?”
“Lumen Knights always like to make a show of even the simplest things, believe me.” Helen waved off Seamus’ words as she went to sit on a nearby crate.
“Still, it bothers me. Why would they meet us out here instead of back in Yorktown?” Seamus asked.
“Perhaps they’re in a rush. They’re probably going home right after this.” The ex-marauder shrugged.
“What about that other ship they came in with?”
Helen scowled, clearly frustrated with the young man. “Drop it, Seamus. Quit worrying and rest, will ya?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that… Everything feels so off.” Seamus couldn’t explain his natural alarm to her. He wasn’t sure if she would even believe he had such a thing.
‘Something is wrong,’ he thought with frustration. His instincts practically screamed at him, demanding he run away as fast as possible.
“Seamus, there is nothing to be paranoid about. Just sit and… rest…” Helen trailed off as she stared off at something behind Seamus. Before the young man could ask, his body suddenly tensed up. There was the sound of armored footsteps running down steps, accompanied by a cold and terrifying presence.
“The boy is right to be paranoid,” a voice called out. Seamus slowly turned around, only to be met by the sight of four armed soldiers. A behemoth covered in heavy steel armor accompanied them, his hand holding onto a halberd equal to his size. “Then again, I doubt it would’ve made a difference if you both had prepared for a fight,” the giant spoke.
Seamus felt fear grip his heart, his palms instantly turning sweaty and shaken. The young man remembered the giant’s name from when his friend had introduced them both to the town hall. Hugo of House Ardel stepped forward, an armored finger pointed at Seamus and Helen.
“Quickly and cleanly,” Hugo spoke out, the soldiers moving in to follow his orders.
----------------------------------------
James scrambled as he avoided the strike from the soldier, his feet scrambling away from the other man’s blade.
“Shit! Dahlia!” he called out as he searched for the shaman. She was doing the same as James, quickly backing away from a soldier’s mace. Unfortunately for him, he foolishly took his eyes away from the man trying to gut him.
The soldier took the chance to strike down at James, who had noticed his attack too late. However, before the sword could effectively land the killing blow, the soldier’s swing was thrown off by a sudden kick to his arm. His blade missed the blond man by centimeters, the edge burying itself onto the deck. The soldier cursed loudly, moving to see who had kicked at him. He was suddenly knocked back by the end of a bottle, which broke once it made contact with the soldier’s helm, its golden contents spilling everywhere.
“What a waste of good mead,” a familiar Russian-sounding voice said. The voice’s owner shoved away the stunned soldier, sending him stumbling onto the deck. James turned to see Dimitri standing nearby, a broken bottle in his hand. “Consider this a debt repaid.”
The shipmaster grinned at James before helping the young man up. Once standing, both men got a better view of the situation. Dahlia was currently avoiding the strikes of one soldier while another fought with Miles. These, plus the one that had nearly killed James, were the only royal soldiers on deck, excluding Gryff.
‘What happened to the other four? And that big guy?’
Realization hit James like a truck. He remembered seeing the behemoth and his men head towards the steps that led below the deck.
‘Seamus, Helen, and the rest. They’re all down there.’
His heart sank in fear. James turned to look for the steps, but before he could do anything, the soldier from before had recovered. His hands took off his mead-soaked helmet, eyes smoldering with anger as he looked upon the shipmaster who struck him.
“I’ll kill you for that you—!”
“Quiet!” Gryff’s voice suddenly thundered throughout the air, making everyone pause as they looked toward the Lumen Knight. The knight stood idly by the boarding bridge, his hands behind his back as he watched the entire conflict. James recalled when he had dodged two of the man’s spells earlier, the second one nearly nailing his arm to the mast. Strangely, despite being the jumpstart of the conflict, Gryff had taken a backseat in the fight as his men fought the crew of Frostbite. Now, it seemed like he had changed his mind for the third time.
Gryff used his hand to gesture towards James and Dahlia.
“Leave these two to me. Take care of the rest of the crew.”
The men all gave Gryff confused looks but didn’t question their orders. James watched as the soldiers diverted their attention to everyone else, ignoring him and the shaman. He saw how the soldier from earlier approached Dimitri with a drawn sword, eyes burning with hatred. James tried to intervene but was interrupted by a shard of ice grazing his torso. It whistled as it missed, its point piercing the mast nearby. James stared at the lance of ice, which was clearly meant as a warning.
“Your fight is with me,” Gryff said loudly. James turned to the Lumen Knight, who watched him with a predatory gaze, like a cat playing with its prey.
‘Just what’s with this guy?’
Clenching his fists, James stared at the knight with gritted teeth. He made a choice. “Miles! Protect the crew! No matter fucking what!”
He didn’t have to turn around to know the masked man had heard his request. James glanced at Dahlia, who wielded her dagger with proficiency. He reached for his sword but realized then that he had left it beneath the decks.
“Shit,” James muttered with gritted teeth. He had nothing to defend himself against the knight, who seemed to recognize his situation.
“No weapon? Shame. I bet you would’ve put up an interesting fight,” Gryff sighed. He prepared to approach James but was interrupted by Dahlia, who swiped her dagger at the man. James used this opportunity to charge at Gryff, his hands balled up into fists.
James swung at the spellcaster, trying to land a punch on him. The spellcaster dodged every attack James and Dahlia threw, their strikes proving futile. Gryff didn’t even try to fight back, his arms idle as he dodged and weaved, his cold eyes examining both attackers. James tried to close in for a punch at Gryff’s exposed shoulder before feeling his wound suddenly sting. He faltered his attack from the sudden pain, his fist missing the knight by a mile. Gryff took this chance to land a hit of his own at James, who was too slow to even block.
The Lumen Knight’s flat palm struck his stomach, knocking the air out of James. He clutched at his abdomen in response, trying his best to breathe as he stumbled back. He only had time to blink before Gryff’s icy fingers were in front of his face. Blue runes materialized in front of them, and James’ body responded by quickly dropping to the deck. He watched as another Ice Lance missed him, his body bursting with a familiar heat as Faust forced him to dodge once more, narrowly dodging the knight’s incoming boot.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“How fascinating! That’s three times you have dodged my spells.” Despite dodging Dahlia’s own advances, the cyromancer seemed joyous. “But,” Gryff weaved under the shaman’s dagger, his open palm striking her in the torso, not unlike James. Dahlia flew back in response to the hit, silent for a few seconds before she gasped for breath. James went to her side, helping the shaman up.
“Much more capable men have done better,” the knight proclaimed.
“Do you have any ideas?” James muttered, glancing down at Dahlia for a moment.
“Not really… Maybe with Miles… Or Helen…” Dahlia was panting hard, sweat already appearing on her tan skin.
“Helen is below the deck with Seamus,” James whispered. He would be lying if he wasn’t deathly worried about his friend and whoever was still below deck.
‘Have faith that he’ll take care of himself,’ Faust suddenly spoke up. ‘You must first deal with Gryff before you can focus on anything else.’
The spirit had a point, even if James was terrified of what the day would hold for him and his friends.
“Just have faith,” James breathed out, the words Dahlia took as advice.
“Right. Faith,” she repeated, finally getting her breathing under control as she stood up straight. “I’m going to need you to close your eyes,” Dahlia added quietly, to which the young man nodded.
James and Dahlia faced Gryff, dagger and fist raised as the Lumen Knight grinned.
“Well then? Don’t keep me waiting.”
With that, both shaman and otherworldly man charged at the knight, their voices gaining an ethereal boost.
“Flare!”
“Carapace!”
----------------------------------------
Kate Rowan pressed herself against the wall of the burnt building, a grim reminder of what would happen if she and her fellow guardsmen failed to protect Yorktown and her people.
‘Do they have Fireball runes? Just like those marauders?’
She swallowed nervously, slowly peeking out to see if any of those soldiers were around. Kate looked upon the open marketplace of Yorktown, which only a couple of weeks ago would have been busy with merchants and people alike. Now, it was a desolate place, half-burnt buildings signifying the tragedy that had befell the town earlier that month. The guard squinted through the mist that had formed, her field of view hindered by her steel helmet.
As she examined the area, she noticed figures parading the dead marketplace. It seemed to be two men in those green tunics, their clan insignia sewn onto their shoulders.
“What do you see?” Dirk suddenly spooked Kate, nearly making her drop her sword.
“Delphine’s mercy, Dirk! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” She hissed in a whisper. She wanted to punch Dirk for his idiocy but held back her anger. It wouldn’t do her any good to hit the kid for asking a reasonable question.
Kate took a deep breath, her eyes returning to where she had seen the two men. “I see two men. They don’t have armor like the Lumen soldiers.”
“Can we take them?” Dirk whispered, the seventeen-year-old’s voice shaking slightly. Kate could tell he was losing his composure, something that she was dangerously close to as well.
‘Control your breathing. Just like Harald taught you.’
She took in deep breaths, focusing on keeping her nerves in control.
“Where’s Harris?” Kate asked softly, turning to Dirk.
“Harris went to where the vase shop used to be. He’ll be back, of course; he just wants to recon the area over there with Parin.”
Kate silently cursed to herself. She and Dirk were currently on their own for the moment, left to deal with two of the attackers.
‘Should we wait?’
Kate knew that going against the two men would probably end with her and Dirk losing, no matter the training. She had no fighting experience outside of training matches. The closest she had gotten to a conflict was when the marauders nearly killed her, and even then, she was saved by Seamus. She clenched her jaw, her tight grip on the sword’s pommel turning her knuckles white. She felt hopeless again, just like last time.
‘What’s the point of training if I’m going to be as useless as I was back then?’
“What’s the plan?” Dirk whispered, his hand clinging onto his sword’s scabbard. He followed Kate’s example, taking deep breaths, but failed to pace himself. Kate was about to tell him to calm down before she heard shouting in the marketplace, followed by the sounds of things being knocked over.
She turned back to the two men from before, who were now struggling with a third party. Kate’s eyes widened as she recognized the person struggling. It was an elderly woman, her shawl thrown back to reveal her graying hair. She had been a common trader in the marketplace, selling her goods to passersby and even trading with Kate and her father. The elderly woman was currently fighting back against the two men who were trying to detain her.
“Quit your struggling. The faster you get with your people, the easier it is for all of us!” One of them shouted, an ax in his hand as he forced the woman up. Everything seemed to stop then and there, with Kate alone with her thoughts.
What should she do? Should she risk her and Drik’s life over the elderly woman? Should both guardsmen stay back and watch as the men try to force the woman to the town hall? Kate wasn’t even sure if that would happen, as both men seemed to have their weapons out, the cold steel glinting from afar.
Ultimately, the choice was made without Kate even being aware of it.
“Hey!” she suddenly shouted, surprising even herself.
Kate blinked, realizing she was out in the open, her sword drawn and both men watching her with puzzled looks. She stared at the men, her throat dry as she tried to speak.
“Dirk?” was all she could manage out.
“Put the weapon down, trainee. Otherwise, you will do something you’ll regret,” one of them called out, his feet slowly stepping up to Kate. He wore a steel helmet and light chainmail over his green tunic, something his friend lacked.
‘Dirk can take on the unarmored one while I deal with the other. We’ll hold them off until Harris and Parin come back.’
Kate took a deep breath, hands gripping her sword’s wrapped pommel. She wore the chainmail Felix had lent her and had a steel helm to protect her dome. She was protected, that much was sure. Victory was possible. Kate gulped, feeling how the cold steel of her helmet pressed against her sweating forehead. The man in front of her seemed to realize that talking wasn’t an option as he raised his ax, putting himself into a fighting stance. Kate positioned her feet and shoulders, taking the same stance Harald had taught her about offense.
‘Center yourself and do not overextend. Strike with conviction and keep yourself moving. Do not allow your enemy to get the upper hand.’
With gritted teeth, Kate attacked. Her sword lunged for a stab at the man’s exposed neck. She hoped for a quick winning blow, but her attempt was made short when her target used his ax to redirect the attack. Kate stumbled as a result, leaving herself open to the attacker.
Before he could strike down on her, however, Dirk suddenly came in. The young guardsman bashed his round shield against the attacker, his shove enough to knock the man off balance. Dirk had his sword out, hand visibly shaking as he fended off Kate’s opponent, pushing him back some distance as the guardswoman regained her footing. As she reviewed the situation again, the other green tunic reached at her, his short sword coming at Kate with frightening speed. With a motion born more out of instinct, Kate deflected the attack with her iron sword, sparks flying as she used its broad edge to redirect. She barely came out of it unscathed.
All four of the fighters went still for a moment, each of them judging the situation as they regained their bearings. After a few seconds that passed like hours, the two green tunics moved in tandem, switching places quickly. The armored one went after Kate as the sword wielder rushed for Dirk. Kate did not even have the luxury of catching her breath before the man was upon her, ax raised for an attack. She did her best to fight off the armored man, even getting a few nicks at his exposed sleeves. However, her own talents wouldn’t be enough. The guardswoman felt her heart drop as her attacker’s ax got past one of her blocking attempts, the edge of the blade striking her abdomen.
Thankfully, she wore chainmail, which fortunately protected her from getting gutted. Unfortunately for Kate, the man’s strike was strong enough to send her stumbling back, a sudden pain in her belly making itself known. Still, the guardswoman had some fight left in her as she used her sword to strike against the man’s helm. The strike rang true against the steel, dazing the man as the swing knocked the helmet off his head and onto the ground.
“Agh! Bitch!” The man pushed Kate back, sending the out-of-breath woman to the ground. Kate moved to get back up, her lungs taking deep breaths of the cold air. She tried to use her sword to strike at the man’s exposed leg, but he was quicker. The man’s boot kicked at Kate’s wrist, and her sword flew away. He stomped on her left hand right after, drawing a pained yell from the young woman. She was pinned to the ground now, weaponless and without ideas. She looked up at the panting attacker, who raised his axe above his head, ready to strike down at Kate.
He would never bring it down on her, as his exposed neck was suddenly pierced by an arrow, shocking Kate and the man’s comrade. Kate was left silent, eyes wide as she stared at the blood that spurted from the punctured jugular. The dying man gurgled and tried to pull it out, only to get hit with another arrow, this one pinning his hand to his throat.
The dead man soon fell back, his friend watching all of this in horror as he slowly backed away. Two arrows, which came in as quickly as the others, pierced the other green tunic in his shoulder and torso. Another arrow whizzed by, nailing the sword wielder at the side of his neck. Kate watched the second body impact with the ground, blood pooling around both corpses. She turned to the source of the arrows, spotting a familiar silhouette in the mist.
Felix came into view, short bow in hand, as he reached the two guards.
“Rowan, Andal, are you two alright?” the archer called out their last names, his bow lowering as he looked around. After ensuring the area was clear, he rushed to help both guardsmen up, bow slung over his shoulder. Kate did her best to avoid looking at the bodies lest she emptied the contents of her already hurting stomach.
“Thank you.” Dirk’s voice was shaken but audibly full of energy. The mixture of shock and adrenaline was probably overwhelming for the young man.
“I thought I told you two to scout the area?”
“We saw one of them hurting this old woman. I didn’t even think…” Kate herself was dealing with the same effects Dirk was experiencing but was doing a better job of hiding it in her voice. This wasn’t the first time she had seen men die.
Felix looked at the two bodies again, frowning as he surveyed the area. Kate realized he was looking for the old woman they had saved, despite the lady running as soon as the fight had started.
“Where are Harris and Parin?” the guard captain asked.
“By the destroyed vase shop. They should be back any minute,” she answered.
“Once they return, we’re heading to the town hall to free the people there. Harald and I have already surveyed our side of the town, and Elena’s group has already done recon on the western side of town,” Felix explained. Kate recalled their quick planning at the armory and how she had volunteered her group to survey the town’s marketplace instead of the western side, where her destroyed shop lay. She wasn’t ready to see it again, not so soon after the fires. Felix moved to pull his arrows from the bodies, and both Kate and Dirk looked away from the sight.
“Sir Arlo,” Kate started, trying to ignore the sound of flesh ripping. “How are we supposed to take down those men in armor if we can’t even take care of these men?”
“Like I said back in the armory. We take them by surprise.”
The sound of arrows being pulled from flesh stopped, and the archer shortly walked into sight. He pulled out a small stone, its surface like black glass. It had a small red rune inscribed onto it, its magic glowing weakly.
“Are those…?” Kate started.
“Fireball runes,” Felix confirmed. “Courtesy of the dead marauders who never got the chance to use them. The magic seems to have diminished, but I don’t doubt they still pack a hit.” The guardsman pocketed the rune. “We’ll use these to disperse and have them run into our ambushes. After which, we will make them regret ever coming here. We will not go down without a fight.”