Felkin broke through, and walked out of the rift, out of the abyss. He covered his eyes as the sun shone above him, brightly glowing high in the sky. Felkin looked at his clothes and they were the same as before he died, except there was none of the damage caused by his last fight with the bandit leader. As he stepped out, the ground he walked on was still wet, he was in a muddy land. He looked around, it was desolate and it had nothing but dead trees. Felkin remembered this place, and he walked over to a structure in a distance. In a small enclosure of dead trees, he found the stone ruin. But now, he saw writings carved into it. “Infinity proceeds in the face of the end.” He read this and exited. He looked over the horizon and saw the town they previously went to in the distance. He held his sword and walked on.
He walked, thirsty and hungry and having little cover from the blazing sun. He looked around and thought about how he encountered no creatures in the abyss aside from the frost king. He remarked to himself the strangeness of the occurrence as well as the mysterious individual that guided him out of the abyss. He looked at his sword and looked at the inscription. He then cast these thoughts aside and walked on. He smelled the scent of smoke in the air and as he got closer to the town, he saw plumes of smoke rising from the distance. He ran with his sword ready, and rapidly moved towards the end of town.
He reached the entrance of town and instead of seeing the activity of the mob he saw previously, there were grim faces, and people were on their knees on the side of the road. Muffled cries were the only sounds in the eerie silence as Felkin looked around. Many posts were lined on the streets, and there were still burning charred remains mounted atop. Widows and orphans alike, wept in the streets. A few of the stalls in the market were occupied, but there were little customers therein. The sound of water splashing onto the ground was heard nearby. Felkin rushed through the streets, and a few onlookers stared at him as he passed by. He came upon an old woman pouring a bucket of water on a burning corpse, it would not be extinguished.
She was being stopped by another man in the village but she continued. A few people were observing the scene. Felkin felt bad but remembered the last time he came here, and so went to an onlooker to ask a question. “What happened here?” “A knight came through here. Just what to expect when dealing with ‘royalty’.” The crowd then hushed and motioned for silence, as they listened for something. Bandits on horseback rushed into the village. They struck people with axes and picked up valuables from the ground. Felkin, remembering the crimson hand that had laid him low drew his sword to attack.
They had torches and axes, they threw their weapons at Felkin who easily deflected them and struck rider after rider down on their horse. Felkin went down the main street, trying to prevent the bandits from burning down or terrorizing the townsfolk. One stroke of his blade would cut down three men and he made short work of the offending brigands. The townsfolk hid and cowered in fear, not only from the bandits but from the inhuman swordsman they saw that dispatched them. Some of the horses ran away, but some of them stayed at their rider’s body. Felkin observed their unique fighting style but remarked to himself that banditry will always be banditry and simple ferocity isn’t a substitute for-. “skill” is what Felkin thought of before he was knocked back by another rider on horseback.
On reflex, he blocked with his sword as he slid a few feet back. He saw a scarred and weathered horse clad with armored plates and a similarly armored rider on top. “Ha! I got you!” said the bandit rider. He was wearing mismatched and rusty pieces of knight’s armor. He was a skinny old fellow, with long gray hair and a wrinkled face and morbid expression. Felkin swung his sword and the man’s horse jumped out of the way as he raised his lance to strike Felkin.
Felkin dodged and the man re-maneuvered and turned his horse around to charge back at Felkin. “I assume you are the leader of these men?” Felkin asked. The man kept striking and Felkin effortlessly dodged and deflected the hits. “Yes! As Ladan of the five great bandit lords, I pride myself in my power. These men weren’t easy to train in horseback, you know.” After a volley of attacks, he charged back in but he kicked his horse in the side to initiate a kick. Felkin was slightly startled and ran out of the way, as a blast of dirt was spread from the ground.
“Hmph.” Felkin said as he struck with his extended sword into the side of the horse. The armor pieces broke and clattered off, and the rider was sent tumbling on the ground along with his lance. He climbed back up his horse who had a slight limp. “Bah! This is the difference between a ruffian with a horse and a horse-riding knight! Those fools in the city, I’ll come back to them after I kill you and take power! I’ll show them who’s unfit for duty!” Felkin sidestepped his thrust and struck him. The bandit lord ]flew back a distance. All that was visible was a suit of armor, the rider’s head was no longer visible.
The horse took one look at him and ran away. Felkin walked toward him and tried to see if anything of worth was on his person. He went to pick up his lance but as he did, he felt something pierce his back. He turned to see Ladan had ducked and hid in his armor after the attack hit him but missed his head. Blood trickled as Felkin was stabbed by a dagger hidden on the bandit’s person. “Always have a backup plan, intelligence and tactics is what set “ME” apart from- “Felkin used the lance to swiftly strike the ‘knight’. In his last moments, Ladan saw a shadow emerge from the trail of blood that was on the ground. The figure that he saw had a dark form and he could not discern any features except glowing eyes on one of its arms, on both of its hands and on its face. He saw it reach out for him and fear was the last expression on his face.
Felkin felt a presence and looked around him but saw nothing. He winced as he pulled out the knife and threw it onto the ground. His wound was shallow but drew blood. He was then approached by the townsfolk who emerged from hiding. He could tell with their hushed murmurs and reclusive demeanor that they were wary of him. He dropped the lance and started to walk away when the old woman came to him and questioned him. “You’re one of them! You were one of the ones who came to us on that day! The ones who stole the witch!” The people walked forward and whispered to each other in agreement. “You! We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you! You and that knight woman!” “I just saved you from these bandits, didn’t I?” He asked, genuinely confused. "Murderer!" "Scourge!" "Witch!" "Get out of here!" The villagers started throwing stones and pebbles at Felkin. 'I guess... They have a reason for feeling that way, but...' Felkin raised his sword up high and the people stumbled and cowered back in fear. “Now, what happened here?” He asked.
A man from the town came forward and answered: “After you took the witch girl, a “holy knight” came through here and passed judgement.” They all then looked down in sadness. “After one of them got killed, another one ran to take revenge. Then it was decided that his entire family was impure, and then more retaliated.” The man started to choke on his tears. “We’ve never been able to put out the fires.” Felkin paused for a moment then asked: “Where is she now?” An old man pushed through the crowd; it was the old priest they had met earlier. “I overheard them talking about returning to the capital or something.” “Thank you... This is the only thing I can do for them, I couldn’t even protect them.” Felkin started to go on his way but felt his stomach rumbled.
“Excuse me, but have you someplace where I can get something to eat?” “Huh?” answered the townsfolk. Felkin fell on one knee and felt a slight dizziness. He felt the wound on his back but it was now totally healed. “What’s wrong?” asked the priest. “Nothing, just tired.” He then stood up and followed the old man to the local tavern.
In the cities, Yuria, Metas and Ellyn walked the city’s streets. Metas had not been to this part of the large cities, but their layout was similar enough to him. Ellyn had not expected she would leave her little village in her lifetime, but even in the village before she was a recluse and preferred to skirt the edges of the wilderness or help with the old man. Yuria stared excitedly at the buildings and the people. The village she grew up in had a few stone buildings, but mostly had rotting wooden houses and makeshift structures made from spare materials. Metas appreciated the slight decency of the place, as he had been long travelling to obscure lands and desolate locations.
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The wealthy walked the streets in ridiculous clothes and elegant fashion as they avoided the poor beggars or workers that labored day to day in the streets. Carriages and pack mammals carried goods from local produce to assorted jewelry. Metas and the others walked through the crowd and he frowned at the memory of the packed and noisy capital. In other places, he was often stared at but here knights were commonplace, and the shadow knights were a sort of open secret. Still his stature made him stand above the crowd, so his presence turned a few heads.
Metas turned the corner from the main street and into an alleyway away from the bustling crowd. “Always skulking in alleyways, can’t we just enjoy the city?” asked Yuria. “We barely have any money.” Answered Ellyn. “And besides, we’re still fugitives.” Concluded Metas. They noticed some activity occurring in a corner ahead of them so they approached cautiously, until Metas motioned for them to go back and hide. Two knights, in normal iron armor apprehending a few criminals, then talking about what they would do for the rest of the day. As they left, Metas sighed and gestured for the others to move back. “At least there’s some form of security here.” Ellyn put her arm back under her coat's sleeve after compressing her crossbow.
“The normal people might see me as just another shadow knight, but the actual knights might recognize me. We have to steer clear of them.” Metas narrowed his gaze. “Isn’t there anything there that could help us?” asked Yuria. Ellyn searched the sack of goods once more and answered: “There’s nothing here that would help us outside of a fight. Maybe this?” Ellyn tossed Yuria the pendant. It was a small strange black stone on a necklace, and Yuria wore it out of boredom and curiosity. Metas noticed an unknown figure had appeared behind him. He quickly pulled out his spear and prepared to strike. “Who are you!” Metas and Ellyn readied for a fight. “What?” the unknown figure answered. Yuria then took off the pendant and was instantly recognized by them. “Whoa.” Ellyn remarked, surprised. Metas took the pendant and slowly wore it on himself. Ellyn pointed her arm at the stranger in reflex before Metas took the pendant off. “This could be useful.” Said Metas examining it. “Yeah, useful for hitting each other on accident.” Remarked Yuria.
“Huh, the old man couldn’t get that to work either.” Said Ellyn in a thinking pose. “Well, lets keep it just in case.” Said Metas pocketing it. “Where are we going again?” asked Yuria. “To the capital Lodeleth, more specifically to the knight’s headquarters, there’s something there I have to retrieve.” “Well, lead the way.” They walked out of the alley and faced the city. They looked up past the dirty roads, stone houses, and large wooden buildings to a towering castle in the distance, its mossy stone walls could be seen from a distance. “At least we’re not getting attacked by bandits, and all sorts of creatures anymore.” “Bandits huh. Most bandits probably. But that one, he might be crazy enough to do it. And if he’s got that sword, there’s no telling if they can stop him.” Said Metas.
They walked past a few street children playing and a few workers drinking after a long day’s work. “Shame the old man didn’t come with, he came back to “his forest” to tend to something.” Said Ellyn trying not to bump into people with her wooden arm. “Jura does and goes where he pleases, that’s his decision, and to follow me is your decision as well.” “Well, its not like we have anything else to do.” Yuria answered and Ellyn nodded in agreement. Metas managed a small smirk. A crier ran across the street and yelled: “Make way! Make way! Make way for Her royal highness!”
A black wooden carriage drawn by two white horses as well as a few cloaked and regular knights walking beside it and by horseback. Metas and the others felt a sudden revulsion within them. Even though they were in broad daylight, the street seemed to dim and darken. The people in the crowd stopped what they were doing. Old friends chatting happily, children playing and merchants conducting business stopped and stared at the carriage that slowly went on along the street. The crowd parted and were watching by the side of the road. There were windows in the carriage, which were covered by some cloth to act as covering. Even as the individual inside was obscured Metas could feel her slowly turning her head towards him.
Ellyn and Yuria were frozen in fear and stood sweating profusely. “Are they looking right at us? Hey Metas?” As Yuria whispered she looked around but didn’t see Metas. She was seated inside the carriage tapping her fingers absentmindedly against the wood and clutched her silver sword in the right hand. Something caught her eye and she looked around to the crowd and momentarily removed the cloth. Some of the townsfolk covered their faces and some cowered back. She grinned but returned to neutral expression as she saw nothing of interest and let the cloth back down. She leaned back inside the carriage. Metas grabbed Ellyn and Yuria and went inside on one of the shops that lined the streets. “That was dangerous.” Said Metas who took off the pendant.
“Who was that?” asked Ellyn. “A witch hunter.” Answered Yuria. They stood up from crouching and took some seats in the small establishment. “Can I get you kids anything?” The man behind the counter asked them. “We’re just looking around.” Answered Metas. “No, no. You’re one of those knights, right? They looked at each other and Yuria shrugged. “Yes.” “Here, this is the least I could do to the people who protect the kingdom.” He then took out a plate of cured meats and slid it towards them. “Here.” Metas cautiously stared at the man, then at the food and then graciously accepted. “Thank you.”
They went back to their table and Yuria excitedly reached for the food with her bare hands. Ellyn put a knife and fork in front of Yuria. “Oh, yeah.” Yuria then used the utensils to dissect the dish carefully but ineffectively while Metas stared off. “Every day we’ve seen weirder and weirder huh. Giant wolves, witch hunters, a being of light, and an undying old man.” Yuria happily enjoyed and savored each bite and continued to eat. “Jura the old man, I’m still trying to think about any stories or information regarding him.” Metas remarked.
“Mm-hm.” Yuria reacted and chewed quickly then swallowed. “I think I remember some!” She remarked. “Hey!” Ellyn pulled the plate from Yuria as it had a fraction of its contents left. “I overheard one when I was a child.” Said Yuria. “What’s it about?” asked Metas eating a mouthful of food. “I think its about the old man, and a white flower.”
“A white flower?” a little girl from the street happened to overhear their conversation as she walked nearby. She wore excess but worn clothing and had bandages on her hands, on her arms and around her eyes. She also had a walking stick that she held onto. Her long white hair was blown by the wind and she struggled to sweep it away. “Sorry I overheard.”
Metas kept his guard up but the others invited her to speak. “No, its fine, go on.” Said Ellyn putting her fork down on the plate. “There was once a man, Jura. He lived a simple life but grew up finding no purpose in it. He soon came to a big kingdom! He looked for anything to do and wound up helping in clearing out a forest. The king wanted to build a big road across it, and the people they sent in it, never came back. He was just a recruit, among others who were basically fodder to the cause. They went in and walked for days and days. They didn’t know how to go forward and had forgotten the way back. Poor Jura was soon left alone. Even though he didn’t have much experience, he lasted more than the others as things and animals they didn’t recognize snatched at them from the shadows. He then ran wailing and mad. He fell face first into the mud but looked up to see a small but beautiful white flower. Nobody knew what happened to him. Only that he came back to map a route where the trees were cut and the road was formed. After they paved it, he didn’t allow them to go into the forest any further, said it was “his” forest. Then they never saw him again.”
They were entranced in the story and listened intently. When she stopped talking, there was silence for a while as they expected a continuation. “That’s it.” “I remember it being shorter.” Yuria and the others leaned back into their seats. “I hope it helps.” The girl then exited the establishment. “Well, take care.” Ellyn waved her off. “Wait.” Metas gestured stop with his palm.
“What’s wrong?” the girl said. Metas walked forward and held a piece of the bandage that came loose and dangled from her arm. He towered over her but he knelt and expertly re-wrapped and re-applied it with precision and care. He finished up and then looked at her, a small smile was on her face. She reached out and tapped his shoulder. He suddenly lost balance and fell backward and startled everyone in the room including the owner who was taking a break and sleeping behind the counter. “Are you okay?” . Metas quickly stood up and saw that the girl was no longer present. He ran up to the door and looked outside but saw nothing. “What happened?” said Yuria bewildered. “I saw something briefly.” “What?” asked Ellyn. “All I saw was a flash of red light.” Said Metas.