Dahlia looked up at the blood moons that displayed over the city of Vindis. Black clouds partially covered them, but their glow still showered the buildings and people in red. The shaman looked to Falrick, who stared at the visage with horror. Seamus was nearby as well, his own gaze dead focused on the moons. They had just reunited, the two groups preparing their way to the center of the city. Nathan and his gnomes had a plan to revitalize the alarm system and send a message to the nearby outposts. Everything was planned and set up. All they needed to do was to reach the center.
It was an exciting moment, as even Dahlia had thought that their luck was improving. That was until the blood moons showed up. This was an event not to be taken lightly. It was an omen that no one should ever see. Yet here was the shaman, her surroundings lit in red. Mass death was coming to Vindis. From then on, everything was possible. Dahlia could only think of the friends and allies that went off to other parts of the city. Their lives were at stake now.
“We need to keep moving,” Seamus finally spoke out. “We need to get to that center now.” He looked at everyone, their focus now on him.
“He’s right,” Falrick muttered. “The sooner we get that message out, the faster we drive these damned invaders out.” He turned to Nathan, who was still staring at the sky. “Wizard, can the gnomes set up the alarm totem?” Falrick gestured to the totem that rested nearby. It was from the Thieves Guild, who had given the totem to Nathan’s gnomes. They had tinkered and carved runes into it, apparently improving upon it during the half hour.
Nathan nodded. “They can.”
“Good. You’re coming with me. We’re going to reactivate the ley line connections to the city so the gnomes could sound the alarm,” Falrick explained. “Seamus, Haggard, you’re coming with us to guard us.” The Wizard turned to Dahlia. “Take the rest of these men and head to the center. The city hall is perfect for setting up the alarm system. It’s tall enough to send its message on its lonesome.”
“Wait, you four are going alone?” Dahlia pointed out. “You need more people on your side. It’s too dangerous with such a small group!”
“You’re going to need more manpower than us. The center is bound to be filled with marauders and Lumen soldiers,” Falrick explained.
The shaman wanted to argue, to say something, to convince the Wizard to take on more reinforcements.
“We’ll be fine,” Haggard spoke out. “This shouldn’t take much time. We have two Wizards, for Freyja’s sake.” The drifter grinned as he hefted his hammer. As Haggard joined Falrick and Nathan, Seamus had some trouble. He was currently signing to Lilith, who was trying to join him on his journey.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured while forming the hand signs to the berserker. Lilith formed back signs, her expression that of worry.
“I need to be with them, since I’m the only one who knows where to go. I need to guide the Wizards. As for you, you need to protect the gnomes and Dahlia. I know you’re the best one for the job,” Seamus explained. He stood up and shifted with his belt. He handed the young woman a vial. “Agility potion, just in case.”
The red-haired woman stared at the vial, before she cautiously grabbed it. Seamus turned to leave but was stopped when Lilith embraced him. The young man blinked in surprise but didn’t protest the hug. Dahlia watched as Seamus patted Lilith’s head, his lips curving into a soft smile as he said his goodbyes.
“Quite an interesting bunch, you lot are,” Markov’s voice muttered. Dahlia looked to the thief, who was fitting on his armor.
“Are you staying here?”
“Gods no. This hideout is compromised.” Markov gestured to the burning merchant’s guild. “Some will stay here, to make sure any running survivors are directed to somewhere else.”
“Where are you going, then?” The shaman questioned.
“Me and my men are going to hold off any marauding bastard from the center. We can get there faster than you all. We’ll carve a path for you.”
Dahlia blinked. “You’re willing to risk yourselves for us?”
“Of course,” the old thief sighed. “If you all die, this city is fucked. If there is even a slight chance of us winning, I’m taking it.” Markov moved off to the alleyway, his hands gesturing for his men to follow. “We’ll do what we can but you’ll still need to hurry. Time is running out.”
“Understood.” Dahlia nodded.
“Oh, and if you survive this and see Holter again,” Markov turned to the shaman, a sincere look on his face.
“Give him my thanks.”
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Rain pattered on the courtyard. James stepped out of the dry safety of the hall's interior and looked up at the sky, his eyes meeting with the dark clouds that poured water onto him. They parted perfectly to showcase the twin moons, which stared down at him judgmentally. James looked to the courtyard, where soldiers and mages alike were cornered. They were attempting to leave through the backdoor, but that plan was futile. For the Draugr stood in their way. Orcs and specters moved in from the front, led by Silas and Malik. They made eye contact with James, their expressions turning from triumph to silent realization.
James looked down at his torso, where the blood of the sorcerer was stained.
“You… You monster! What did you do to Sorcerer Darius?!” one soldier shouted at James, his face contorting into fear and hate. The young Jarl could only stare back in silence, his gaze moving to the stranger in the back. He wore all black, his hood and cloak covering every part of him, along with goggles that reflected the scene before him. The painted grin on his mask sent a shiver down James’ spine.
“Stay back,” the strange man muttered to the soldier, holding him back. “He’s no ordinary man. This is the real deal.”
“Where is Arthur?” James broke his silence.
The man in goggles tilted his head. “He’s off dealing with bigger problems. But I guess after what you did… He’ll definitely come for you.” The cloaked man had no visible weapons, but James could still feel the murderous intent that reeked from him.
“Good,” James muttered, his eyes glancing off at the distant horizon, where the flames of the city still raged on. He could feel his anger bubble deep within him, his fists growing tight around his weapon. “Because I’m gonna make him and every single one of you pay for today. For what you’ve all done.”
“We?” one soldier asked, indignation in his voice as he pointed. “You started this! You were the one who decided to defy Delphine’s Holy Law and kill her chosen children! We are to avenge the hero Gryff and his—”
“Will you shut the fuck up?!” James shouted, his rage reaching a boiling point. He turned sharply to the group of soldiers, who all stood with their backs against the wall. “I started this? Well excuse me for trying to survive! Maybe if that psychopath knight of yours didn’t try wiping an innocent island from the map, maybe I would’ve complied! But no! He decided to threaten my friends, my island, and my people! And now Arthur repeats that mistake!”
James pointed at the flames that still blazed in the city, their glow still visible in the heavy rain. “I am not responsible for this! You did this! YOU ALL DID THIS!”
His body shook with unbridled fury, hands shaking as he watched many of the soldiers sulk and step back, gazes mixed with fear and surprise. James then realized that his eyes were glowing furiously, their heat flaring a nasty headache within his skull. He sighed and willed it away, his eyes closing.
“Holter!”
A voice called out from nowhere, catching everyone off guard. James turned and, without warning, a young-looking woman dropped down from the roof, landing in front of the soldiers. James stared at the black-haired stranger. She was wearing no armor, the only clothing on her being a rough-looking tunic and ripped breeches. She wasn’t even wearing any shoes. Blood ran down her forehead as she walked with a noticeable limp. She looked eerily familiar, but James couldn’t place where he had seen her.
“Who are you?” He asked.
“My name is Gwenyth Sterling. I was hired to come hunt you down,” she revealed in a breath, clearly not wanting to waste time. James instinctively reached for his sword’s hilt, ready to defend himself.
The woman’s silver eyes widened at the gesture. She raised her hands quickly in response. “I’m not here to fight you!” She exclaimed. “I am here to simply talk. Something we should have done months ago.”
“Talk then,” James ordered. He had no time to ask more questions.
“I can help you, Holter. I know about your otherworldly status and the things you had to endure through,” Gwenyth started. “Arthur, the knights, everyone has been against you since the day you came here. I’m here to change that.” She extended her hand to the blond man. “Let’s call this off! Come with me willingly and I can talk with the high council. With your knowledge of the fracture, we can seal the source together, without violence and death. Believe me, enough people have died already…”
James could only stare at her. Did she know about the source? Was she even told about it? He looked at her hand, his thoughts going to what the sorcerer told him. He was the source of it all and the only way to seal it was to kill the otherworldly man. Seal off the bond with Faust and allow him to die. Was there even a way to seal it without death? James recalled the futures he saw. All of them had him sealing the wound on his chest and ending the bond with Faust. If he turned himself in, could that be possible?
‘No, because the Lumen Kingdom doesn’t care about keeping me alive. Why waste resources on a criminal when you can just kill him off?’
None of those futures ever showed him one where he was allied with them. Still, Gwenyth seemed genuine. She wanted to end this, just as much as James did. Judging from the red markings around her wrist and the wounds on her body, it told him that she was punished for believing so.
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James slowly reached for his chest, his mind going to the fracture. Going with Gwenyth would mean certain death, since fixing all of this resulted in his death. Maybe he had a chance with Dahlia and the rest of his friends, but that chance was slim. Not only that, but if James died and was unsuccessful in sealing the source, it would mean allowing those abominations to run loose. As much as he hated it, the Lumen Kingdom’s clerics were probably the only ones who could get it done successfully.
James gritted his teeth at the thought of it. If he could seal it… prevent the abominations from ever appearing again. Would it be worth it? His death was insignificant to him, anyway. Everything he had done in this world had led to nothing but the suffering and deaths of others. Maybe taking himself out the equation was for the best.
‘But what of them?’ Faust muttered. ‘What of the city and your friends?’
That was also true. The city was still under attack by marauders. His friends were in the thick of it, trying to stop it. If he were to allow Gwenyth to take him prisoner, the entire city would be doomed. His friends would be dead meat.
The man from Earth found himself in conflict. Were his friends important, or was the entire nation of Valenfrost more vital to him? He looked at Gwenyth, who watched in anticipation. Choosing to save his friends would also mean killing Arthur and whatever Lumen soldier stood in his way. It would mean becoming what those knights feared in the first place. Giving himself up to save Valenfrost would mean allowing an entire city to sink and all his friends put to the sword. It would also mean a ‘clean conscience’ since his sacrifice could potentially save thousands. No, it could save the world.
James thought back to the cliche of heroes in stories. So much of the time, the hero would sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Regardless of what they had fought for in the first place. All because not doing so would make them worse than the villain.
He laughed aloud at the thought, his lips forming into a grin as he guffawed. Everyone stared in confusion, watching as he laughed. Soon enough, his laughter would die down to a fading chuckle. James turned to Gwenyth, his smile slowly disappearing.
“What will happen if I refuse?” James asked.
Gwenyth’s brow furrowed. “Then I would have no other choice than to take you down myself,” she revealed before she took a couple of steps back.
“I see,” James sighed. He unsheathed his sword right after and held it in front of him. Past the blood that stained its edge, it mirrored his reflection in its steel. James stared at his tired and worn gaze.
If his encounter with Gryff had taught him anything, it’s that these people would say anything as long as it meant fulfilling their goals. Gwenyth was no different from the knight before. It was easy to feign sympathy and even easier to lie. James pointed his sword at the woman’s direction, his voice calling out to the men around.
“Take care of the soldiers, but leave her to me. This one is mine.” His words shocked everyone around, their expressions turning to a mixture of hate and shock.
Ever since his summoning to Valenfrost, James had thought himself the hero. The brave warrior who would save the weak and change the world for the better. He was a fool to think the world was like that. In reality, he was just a man. A man willing to hold on to what he has left and save the ones he loved. He would be damned before he allowed his friends and everything he had built up to this point to die out.
The orcs and specters rushed towards the soldiers, who tried to fight back. Gwenyth tried to help, but James interrupted. He clashed his sword against her left arm, which rang like steel and reflected his blade like nothing. The otherworldly man jumped back when she retaliated with a swipe from her dagger, its edge nicking his armor. Gwenyth shifted her stance, her focus now on James. She rushed at him, her dagger swiping at him. James shifted his shield and dodged the best he could, but he could still feel the impact of her strikes and cuts, some of them even making marks on his flesh despite the Carapace spell.
It was clear she was more experienced and much more dangerous than any other opponent the blond man had faced. However, her injuries and lack of gear held her down, making it easier for James to fight back. When the time was right, he bashed the woman with his shield, knocking her back and leaving her open. James rushed forward, his sword flashing at her. Gwenyth dropped in response, hitting the ground just as the otherworldly man’s sword swiped the air. She tried to go for a stab at his leg, but he was faster. James’ boot made contact with her hand, kicking the dagger away.
James moved to stab at her, but was unsuccessful. Gwenyth had grabbed at his sword’s length, pushing it away with her left hand before using her right to pull the shield away. It was so sudden that James didn’t have time to pull the wooden disc away. Once in her possession, Gwenyth bashed at his chest with the shield. The steel edge knocked him back, making him stumble a bit. She tried to go for another strike, but James saw it coming. With Faust’s help, he dodged the attack, his left hand moving to grab at her head.
Time seemed to stop as his fingers grazed against Gwenyth’s forehead. As usual, everything went white. James expected to see the memories of a Lumen Knight, like before. He expected to see the city and the extension of the kingdom. Yet he saw none of it.
Instead, he was subjected to thousands of images, all of them flashing faster than he could process. Destroyed buildings, an eclipse of blood, burning eyes, dead bodies of close friends, a detached arm, a dying woman with red hair, knights in black, grinning masks, and the burning symbol of a star.
It sent the woman stumbling back, her eyes wide with shock. Her hair fell away from her head, revealing it to be a fake. Silver locks flowed out as a result, its reflecting nature almost glowing.
James stared at her, recognizing this woman as the elf he saw in one of his futures. She had oversaw his execution then, and sentenced him. Gwenyth stared at James, her expression a mix of confusion and surprise.
“What are you?” she asked. James blinked, his gaze moving to glance at the soldiers nearby. Most of them were on the ground, their bodies bleeding and their friends desperately trying to retreat.
James didn’t know how to respond. He could only stare dumbly, his mind going to the images he saw. Gwenyth had seen it all. She had been through hellish events and watched close friends die. Judging from those memories, she had lived through centuries of it. Yet here she was, still fighting to be good. Gwenyth had tried to even reason with him. Unlike others before her, she had actually spoken to him before fighting. James had judged her as another Lumen bastard, one that saw him as nothing more than a threat.
It was why he was dead set on killing her, on ending her like the ones before. Yet now he was conflicted. This elf was a good person, one that had done nothing but try to reason. Her memories confirmed it, even if they came in a flash. James had seen glimpses of her deeds, of her intentions.
‘You’re not seriously thinking of letting her go?’ Faust asked. James shook the spirit’s voice away. He had been so caught up in this mess that he allowed himself to be overtaken by anger and emotion. The Centurion’s bloodlust was slowly coming onto him and it clouded his judgment.
James looked up at the rain that fell upon him, left hand touching his head as he pushed back those thoughts of bloodlust. He cleared it all away, the thrill, the adrenaline, and the rage. And he found himself thinking about someone he hadn’t thought about in a while.
The image of his father looking down at him, his gentle eyes and contagious grin outlined by the sun that bathed him. James had not thought about him in months, not of his words, his advice, or even his visage. Why was that?
‘What would he say if he saw me now?’
Hell, what would Nick or Aunt Dina say? Would they still see the same awkward college graduate, who sucked at social conversation and excelled at niche hobbies? The guy who had put all his frustrations and violent tendencies in the past, all to keep a promise he had made to his dying mother? James knew the answer to those. He knew what they’d see.
Not the nephew who cared and sent money back to his aunt. Not the childhood friend who spent hours in MMOs to grind out one stupid piece of gear. Not the man who just wanted to pursue a better life. No, they’d see a blood covered maniac with a sword and strange, terrifying, powers. When did James lose himself?
‘Or have I always been like this?’ he thought as he looked down at his armor and fur collar, all of which was stained with scarlet. James remembered breaking Mike’s nose the day he was summoned here. He remembered the rush and adrenaline that coursed through him, the violence fueling him.
“You have your father’s temper, don’t you?”
His aunt’s voice played out in his mind, a memory from a distant time, back when he was picking fights in school. James thought back to that day, a small frown on his lips. His father’s temper? That sounded so strange back then. He had always seen his Dad as a well mannered man, polite and gentle.
“Learn to control that anger of yours, that temper. If you manage to just hold it back, even by a little, you’ll be stronger for it. Your father learned it, albeit a little later in his life. But I don’t doubt that you’d be able to handle it better than he. You have a little of your mother in you, don’t forget that.”
James took a deep breath, his lungs taking in the cool air. He closed his eyes for a second, remembering his father and his mother. His aunt and his best friend. The ones who believed in him and undoubtedly cared for him. They’d expect better from him.
“Control that anger, James, and you’ll be stronger for it.”
He opened his eyes and looked to the fallen elf, who stared at him with a look of wariness.
“Get up,” James ordered. Gwenyth slowly stood, her brow furrowing. James unsheathed his backup sword before he tossed it to her. The blade clattered as it skidded to her. “I’ll make it fair for you,” he said. “Will you defend your men?” The elf slowly picked up the short sword, her confused look slowly turning to that of realization once she saw how the soldiers gathered up behind her. James raised his hand to stop his orcs from advancing. This was his fight now.
“I will if it means keeping them safe,” Gwenyth called back. James smiled at the elf, his mind going to the time he had been in this position.
“It’s been far too long since someone tried to play hero,” he chuckled menacingly, directly quoting a certain man.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Faust asked.
‘I’m positive.’ James kicked his shield aside, his only form of defense being his sword. He hoped his corny way of speaking made it obvious that this was all for show. Otherwise, this fight would turn ugly quickly.
James raised his arms, gesturing at the elf. “Well? Come at me!”
Gwenyth yelled as she rushed forward, her hands swinging the short sword at James.
‘Faust.’
Everything went slow as the spirit flowed into his body, James’ eyes flaring with heat. The Centurion snapped into his consciousness as a response, now in full control. Faust moved to the side, wielding the straight sword like a gladius. James watched as the spirit rushed towards Gwenyth. Swords clashed and sparks flew as the two collided. Faust shifted and used his left to punch at the elf, his fist striking her unarmored torso.
Gwenyth stumbled back, but she retaliated with a wild swing. Faust simply dodged, sword aimed at the elf’s left side. He made sure to only target the non vital areas. The sword’s edge slashed at the elf’s torso, leaving a small gash on her side. She winced but continued to fight, her short sword stabbing at James. Faust grabbed the sword by its guard, stopping the strike mid-movement. James snapped back into control, his jaw clenching as he focused on his cryomancy.
He froze the guard to the woman’s hand, causing her to exclaim in pain.
“Naïve,” James muttered. He looked into Gwenyth’s silver irises, watching as the elf turned her scowl into a grin.
“Funny, I was going to say the same thing.” Gwenyth slammed her palm against the blond man’s chest.
“Push!”
The elf’s enhanced words were accompanied by the force of winds, which threw James back. The Jarl stumbled and fell back on his knees. He tried to give chase, but Gwenyth threw her short sword at James, stopping his run as it embedded itself before his feet. The elf used her precious seconds to retreat to her men, her hands forming one last rune.
“Mist Veil!”
Mist exploded from her hands, covering everyone around her. The orcs around James loosed their arrows at the elf, but it would be too late. By the time the first arrow reached the mist cloud, the elf and her men were gone. James couldn’t help but chuckle, his hand moving to wipe the blood from his lips. They had gotten away.
“What a shame,” he muttered with a grin, doing his best to sound disappointed. James looked to the sky, where the blood moons shone. Despite what happened here, the Jarl knew there was more to do.
Tonight was far from over.