Nobody dared speak. Neither Arwen, nor Owen, nor Gwyn. Instead, they watched in a cautious hope as Eryk pulled the embedded knife from his shoulder and used it to cut Rhiannon free.

The vampire girl instantly flung herself into his arms and started bawling while Eryk sat, almost catatonically, and soothed his love, uncaring for the blood he was smearing onto her clothes and face.

Cai stirred from his prone position on the ground and pushed himself onto one knee with a groan. “Cai!” Gwyn hissed lowly. “Cai! Set us loose!”

The knight, now not looking so radiant, blinked. A confused expression crossed his face, but he nevertheless stood up and approached the Sentinel whilst Eryk ignored him, too focused on his crying girlfriend to care. He approached Gwyn from behind and grabbed at his rope bindings, before dropping them back behind Gwyn’s back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Nothing to cut with.”

“Use your magic!” Gwyn whispered.

“Can’t. I can’t concentrate enough.” Cai picked up a nearby lance, despite a much more appropriate sword lying in equal proximity, and clutched it near the blade. It took a few goes, but eventually, he managed to find a rhythm that snapped at the bindings.

Once freed, Gwyn rose to his feet and grabbed Cai by his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“Head hurts.”

“Okay,” Gwyn exhaled deeply. “Okay. Just sit down by the trees, alright?”

Arwen watched the Sentinel sprint up to her. “Arwen! Are you hurt?”

“N-n-no,” Arwen choked on her emotions, making the word come out stuttered and high-pitched. “I- I’m fine.”

“Hey,” Gwyn knelt down to eye-level. “You did fantastic, alright? You are so brave, your Teryn, so brave.”

But Arwen was having none of it. “We were going to- to die!”

“No, we weren’t,” Gwyn leaned in. “Want to know how I’m so sure? We’d have figured something out. Don’t cry, Princess, don’t cry. You’re stronger than that.”

“Gwyn,” Arwen shook her head slowly. “Just please get me out of these ropes.”

“Okay,” Gwyn nodded and picked up a nearby sword. “Just one second…”

Arwen felt it the moment her bindings were cut, for her hands immediately came apart and rolled back to her sides. Instead of moving, however, she simply curled in on herself and squeezed her eyes shut.

“No,” she vaguely registered Owen’s dazed voice as he was cut free by Gwyn. “This wasn’t how it was meant to play out.”

Gwyn’s reply was as supportive as it was calm. “I know, mate, I know. You froze up, it happens. Next time, just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I- But I was useless!”

“Don’t dwell, Owen, that’s the worst thing you can do.”

A shuffling noise. “What are you?!” Owen cried out.

“Owen…”

“No!” a slight scuffling sound. “What the fuck are you, Eryk?”

“Hey!” Gwyn half-shouted in an authoritative tone. “Hey! Leave off it! We’ll sort out that shit later, alright? Control yourself! Let’s first sort ourselves out, right?”

A short time later, and a sorry state would greet any travellers unfortunate enough to stumble upon the bloodbath that had occurred in the forest. Cai had a concussion and was pretty out of it, though he was quickly recovering his wits. Gwyn, Owen, and Arwen were uninjured. Rhiannon had a thin slice across her neck, but although alarming, was fortunately quite shallow. Eryk had been bleeding profusely, and seemed to be completely catatonic. Gwyn was the only one who dared approach him, and so the Sentinel had worked hard first patching up the mangled slices that had raked across his hand, then turned to the nasty gash in his arm, and finally the stab wound to his shoulder. “He’s not a bad person,” Rhiannon kept repeating while Gwyn worked at her boyfriend. “He’s not a bad person.”

“I know,” Gwyn had repeated right alongside her, but eventually had to pause to gently grab at her shoulders, shushing the catatonic girl until she stopped her six-syllable repetitions.

Arwen had found the strength to stand up again, and stumbled over to Cai and collapsed into a seated position next to him. Cai acknowledged her presence with a slight turning of his head. “That was a close one, huh?”

“Where’s Owen?”

Cai pointed up towards a tree. “He climbed it a few minutes ago.”

“Why?”

“Feels safe up there, I guess.” Cai shrugged.

Arwen’s gaze lingered on the forestry. “H-how are you feeling?” she hoped he was feeling as… frail as she was right now. It was all still a daze. She had almost died… and there was nothing she could’ve done.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever asked me that,” Cai followed Arwen’s gaze into the woods. “I feel like I’ve had way too many to drink.”

Without thinking, Arwen slapped her companion on the arm. Hard. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but the Princess desperately maintained control. “How could you be so callous?!”

“Huh?”

“We were about to die!”

Cai cocked his head dazedly. “It’s part of the job. You get used to it after the fourth or fifth time.”

-cut-

The fire roared in content satisfaction, warming the group surrounding its orange flames. The dark sky brought a rare chill to the night, lighting up the stars in a frosty aura. They glittered wonderfully in their canvas of dark paint.

“I think you owe us an explanation, Eryk.” Cai confronted the vampire as soon as Rhiannon had fallen asleep on her boyfriend’s lap. “That wasn’t normal. I never saw you consume any sort of blood, yet you had the strength of a vampire that had fed on a dozen bodies.”

The fire’s glow cast a dark shadow over the vampire’s face, still flecked with tiny dots of blood despite rigorous cleaning at a small river they had come across. “I owe you nothing,” his voice was low and rumbling, almost unrecognisable. “You couldn’t even look my way until I showed my strength. That’s all you humans ever care about.”

“Eryk…” Gwyn’s was the voice of reason. “We want to help you out, here. We want answers, just like you.”

“I’m naturally strong, even for a vampire,” came the eventual reply. “I don’t even need to feed to attain the strength that most would need bodies for.”

“How does that work?” Gwyn asked in disbelief.

“Product of evolution, I guess…”

“But then why keep it hidden?”

Eryk scowled, but he kept answered anyways. “Someone important to me once told me to never use my strength. He said it would only do me harm… that the consequences could be dire. And so, I never told a soul. I pretended to be a normal vampire.”

“Who told you that?” Cai asked.

“Someone…” a brief moment of weakness passed the vampire’s face, “I owe a great deal to. Someone who saved me from the traffickers, who allowed me to recover and attain another chance at life. That is all I can say, out of respect to him.”

“Eryk…” Arwen spoke up to the vampire. “I- I hope you know that… I am thankful for what you did. Saving us, I mean.”

The vampire’s intense blue eyes met hers, and at once she could see the dark pain behind those captivating irises. “Now you care about me and my acceptance of your gratitude?” he retorted sarcastically. “You always hated me, Princess Arwen, from the start. You never even gave me a chance. And now that I’ve shown myself to be a useful pawn for you to command, you now suddenly care. Well, guess what? I didn’t save you. I saved Rhiannon. I broke my promise to my adoptive father and let the monster out… for her, and her alone. If it were up to me, I’d have let you all die.”

Tears filled the Princess’s eyes as his words struck true. She had been prejudiced against Eryk this entire time. She had never given him a single chance, never once engaged with the young boy. And his admission sent her heart reeling. Am I worth saving? Am I worth saving? “Eryk… I’m… I- I’m so sorry!”

No one else spoke, too stunned at Eryk’s words to formulate a response. “I told him I’d never reveal my strength to anyone… and I broke that promise,” he ignored Arwen’s apology, “I only had that of him; my promise, and I went ahead and broke it. I’d have sooner died that that… but Rhi was… she means…”

“Eryk…” Arwen tried again.

“Don’t even speak to me.”

“Arwen,” Gwyn raised a tired hand. “Let’s just let ourselves cool off, okay?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

-cut-

The rest of the journey passed in a blur. The travel lodge they arrived at during the evening was nearly empty, and a demure atmosphere hung like a cloud over the travellers and merchants they passed. Something had gone wrong in the Kingdom, Arwen’s instincts screamed at her, to have caused such miserable and hopeless expressions upon their miens. But what? Did it have anything to do with those Helvetians?

Comparatively, when the tall castle walls came into view, the sun was shining a brilliant yellow hue and casted the lush surroundings in an ephemeral light, signalling the end of their journey. Arwen and her retainers had been received at the gates by five soldiers, but the Cyfoethian guards had demanded they wait while they inform the King of their arrival. “What’s going on?” Arwen had asked, alarmed. This was completely abnormal. None of this was supposed to be happening!

None of the guards replied.

“Something wrong?” Gwyn approached the Princess from behind.

“I… don’t know.”

A total of ten, maybe even twenty minutes passed of waiting in the baking late-afternoon sun before a slurry of activity from behind the gates caught Arwen’s attention. The guards all bowed and parted in unison, revealing the slender figure of Queen Amelia Blayney, Arwen’s mother. “Arwen!” she cried, throwing herself into her daughter’s bemused arms. “I’m so glad you are safe!”

“Mum?” the overtly emotional reception only served to gnaw on the Princess’s paranoia. “What is wrong?”

Amelia cupped her daughter’s face. “We were worried sick about you.”

“Mum!” Arwen appealed. “Tell me what’s going on!”

“The King,” Amelia stared into Arwen’s eyes. “King Fiske of Helvetia, he’s dead.”

“Dead?!” Eryk’s face fell in horror from behind her.

“He was murdered by his own adoptive son, one he raised and nurtured with his own hands…” Amelia’s gaze turned northward. “And now, that psychopath is King and is on his way here. I was so worried about you, Arwen… I’m glad you’re okay.” She had clearly noticed Eryk’s bandaging and injuries, but she had opted not to bring them up.

It took a while for Arwen to learn of everything in a sensical order, but after a long discussion with her parents, both of which were equally relieved at her safety and horrified at her brush with death, she felt she had a pretty good idea of what had gone on.

Around a day or two before Arwen had left for Deilen, King Fiske had been murdered by his son, Victor Fiske. Any further details of his death could not be ascertained by the Cyfoethian informants. Victor had been initially arrested and put into a cell, however, could regain his freedom as the new King of Helvetia or die trying against any Helvetian with military rank or enough social status who wanted to fight for the throne.

Victor had apparently won out against all opponents. According to the spies, the one-on-one fights weren’t even close. Being the only one whose life was in danger, it seemed that drive for life spurred the killer into victory, and he now cemented himself not only as the new King of Helvetia, but as the best warrior the country had to offer.

No word had been sent to Cyfoeth from its neighbouring Kingdom, even as King Blayney attempted to begin dialogue with the new King, and speculation and panic was running rife within the Kingdom. It wasn’t until two days ago, when Arwen would’ve been at the travel lodge in Tristwch, that a letter from the new King Victor Fiske himself, arrived in Cyfoeth.

I will depart upon the estimated arrival of this letter. We will talk.

King Victor Fiske of Helvetia

It was short and to the point, unlike the long and lifelike letters from the previous King. Between the Helvetian Castle and Cyfoeth’s own, it was around a week of travelling, assuming the King did not take a horse with him, or rested for any extended periods of time. What the new King wanted was unknown, however, the news of the attack on Princess Arwen set the tone for all that was in the know. She still recalled that Commander’s words before he died in that horrible way, when Eryk had demanded to know who had sent him.

“King Fiske… did.”

It seemed that Victor was not a fan of Arwen, though whether the man had a reason for ordering her death, or whether it was simply some sort of demented act of war that was doomed to fail but yippee for him if it succeeded, she did not know. All that was left to do was wait, recover, and hope the Helvetian King wasn’t a maniac.

That night, she and her mother were alone in Arwen’s bedchambers. The Princess sobbed in her mother’s soothing arms, while her hair was gently stroked by the supportive Queen. She had held it all together, for the sake of appearances. For the sake of her father. But now that she was alone with her mother- the one who she trusted the most, the trauma cascaded upon her like an unstoppable wave. “Mum…” Arwen’s voice hitched and froze in time with the heaving of her shoulders. “I was so scared…”

“I know, dear,” Amelia’s voice was as soft as her expression. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. You were so brave.”

“I wasn’t…” the Princess whimpered. “I was useless. I’ve always been u-useless. I’m n-nobody. I don’t even know who… who I am anymore!”

“Don’t say that, Arwen.” Her mother’s tone never wavered, though her eyes began to grow misty themselves. “You’re not useless. You’re the bravest young woman I’ve ever met, and I love you so, so much.”

“Mum, I…” Arwen clenched her fists. “I don’t think I-I’m okay… I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Oh, Arwen…” Amelia wept with her daughter. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, both inside and out. Don’t ever tell yourself otherwise, dear… you’re perfect.”

Arwen didn’t quite remember when she fell asleep, but later on that night, a maid gently opened the door and poked her head inside the Princess’s quarters. She had been sent by King Blayney to look for the Queen and Princess, but what she instead saw was mother and daughter sleeping in each other’s arms. The maid stared on for a moment, before gently closing the door.

-cut-

The next morning, Arwen awoke to her mother’s smile.

She had wanted the moment to last forever, but Amelia had important matters to attend to with such uncertain times ahead of them, and so the two had parted ways before Arwen felt ready. “Just remember, Arwen,” her ocean-blue eyes appeared to shine with life and love. “You’re perfect to me. Never forget that.”

Arwen knew she wasn’t supposed to, but she told Cai, Gwyn, and Owen of the news the moment she had readied herself and had worked up the courage to face the day. All of them reacted in shock, and sagely swore they would tell not a soul upon Arwen’s insistence.

“What I want to know if how those men knew where we were,” Cai frowned deeply.

Arwen stilled. She knew the attack was meant for her- the horse-back Commander had confirmed this- but she hadn’t considered how he had known where to look. Her anxiety suddenly rose twofold as she rubbed her hands together, interlacing her fingers as her gaze turned downcast.

It made sense. They had waited until they were far into the quiet road of Tristwch, just south-east of Alaru, before they commenced their attack. Furthermore, the Commander’s positioning ahead of them implied they knew that she would be walking from Deilen. It would take a great deal of effort to sneak so many people and a horse through the border, even if Cyfoeth were currently diverted with reclaiming lost territory, so someone had to have informed them of Arwen’s whereabouts, but who?

“Someone’s ratted us out,” Owen came to the same conclusion. “This had to have been the work of a spy. How else could they have known how to sneak through the border to our exact location?”

“Who could’ve told them so much about our journey?” Gwyn mused in a worried tone, rubbing his chin like he always did when deep in thought.

“Could there be someone close to the King?” Cai looked at Arwen.

Arwen’s uncertain gaze stared back. “I… I would not think my father would tell many of my whereabouts. Maybe… maybe his close confidants, but that’s all I envision. I could be wrong… though, I-I’m uninformed of my father’s actions.”

“Was it one of us?” Owen threw the accusation out into the air.

A tense silence befell. Arwen felt numb. “Like… w-who?”

“My coin’s on Eryk,” Owen nodded to himself. “He’s Helvetian, and someone we know little about.”

“What?” Gwyn protested. “Come on! You’ve all had it out for him from the start. It makes no sense why he’d risk Rhiannon by allowing the Helvetians to attack us.”

“He was the one who saved us from them, let’s not forget.” Cai pointed out.

“But did you hear him talk about their dead King?” Owen asked conspiratorially. “He spoke as if he knew him.”

Gwyn splayed his hands. “Why would that matter? I bet many Helvetians know- or at least think they know- their King.”

“Look,” Owen said. “Hear me out. Eryk goes into Cyfoeth as a spy, lands himself a position as one of Arwen’s retainers. Great! Now, he starts spilling information, thinking himself a great hero or whatever for doing so. Then, when we go to Deilen, he lets his informant know, or writes a letter, or who knows? - that we’re going there. Tells them our whole journey. Brandt Fiske doesn’t do anything about this information, but his killer, Victor, finds an opportunity. He sends those maniacs to attack us and lo and behold, Eryk’s stunned. He had no idea why King Brandt Fiske would do such a thing! When they order both him and his girlfriend dead, he thinks it’s a clean-up job. Eliminate all loose ends while assassinating Arwen and us all in one fell swoop. When Eryk realises his Helvetian buddies aren’t going to let him live, the betrayal sends him off the deep end, and he kills them all to save his own skin before giving us that bullshit cover story about doing it for love.”

With his theory-crafting over, Owen leaned back and shot each of them a challenging look. Nobody said a word. Arwen had no idea to what think. It made… a perverse amount of sense to her, yet she just could not see it. Even with her own admitted bias against vampires, she simply could not think that of Eryk. It seemed wrong that he would be a spy. He was too suspicious from the start. Surely a spy would just keep his head down, and arise no such suspicion or doubt? Or was Arwen doubting herself? She had too much on her mind, too many emotions to struggle with, to think clearly. All she could muster up was the urge to cry.

“I think we need to speak with Eryk,” Cai eventually declared. He looked towards the group. “Anyone seen or heard of him lately?”

No one had.

Cai sighed. “We all have time to spare?”

Arwen had horse-riding lessons and magic tutoring she was now dreading, but those were later on in the day. “I- I have a couple of hours.”

“Nothing for me,” Gwyn shrugged.

“I was planning on meeting a friend,” Owen scowled. “But he can wait. I want answers.”

They started with the castle’s training grounds, since the vampire had been frequenting before their journey to Deilen, but saw no sign. None of the group had any idea where Eryk lived, either, so their next best decision was to look for his girlfriend, Rhiannon, at the King’s Tailors.

But no one there knew where Rhiannon was, too. On Cai’s insistence, they met the man in charge, whose name turned out to be Harry, the stout gentlemen that had initially introduced Rhiannon to them those long weeks ago. “She quit yesterday, just as we were closing up. Just burst on in and said she was leaving. It was all rather strange,” the man’s eyebrows raised. “It’s a shame. She was our best girl for those uniforms of yours.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Cai asked him.

“No, though it looked like she was in a bit of a rush.”

“Was she with anyone?” Gwyn prodded the man for more information.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think she was, least no one I saw.”

“How could you have let her quit like that?” Cai was quick to call the man out. “I thought it was supposed to be a secret, tailoring the uniforms and all that?”

“Not a big one!” the man laughed, unfazed by the knight’s accusatory tone of voice. “And even if it was, what could she do with it? Only the King’s Tailor has the necessary materials to actually create a uniform. She’s not a prisoner.”

“What about repairing one?”

“We ask our employees not to tell anyone,” Harry shrugged, unconcerned. “But there’s no way of enforcing it.”

“Alright,” Cai muttered unhappily. “Thank you.”

Once outside, the bright afternoon sun flashed into her eyes, eliciting a small hiss as she covered herself with one hand. “What now?” Owen asked, eager to try something else to find the vampires.

Arwen stared at the ground. “I… I think I need to talk to my father.”

“I’ll see if I can find something out from anyone at the training grounds,” Gwyn offered. “Maybe he made a friend or two while training and told them something.”

Arwen nodded and said her goodbyes, departing for the castle. She hoped her father wasn’t busy with something and could see her before her lessons started. Arwen inwardly sighed as she walked, ignoring the stares from passers by who recognised her despite her casual clothing. Her father had to know something; she was sure of it. He had hired the vampire to protect his own daughter! Could her father have displayed such shocking incompetence by hiring a spy to protect the Princess? Was she not even worth his attention? She had thought herself important to her own dad, and yet he was content trusting an unproven individual with her?

Was she really that inconsequential to him? Was she really so… trivial?

The thought filled her with dread as her mind darkened even further. She felt like simply… disappearing.

The world would be better off without her, anyways.