Indenuel did not realize how much his fears played across his face. When they reached the next town and the group began to swell, he hardly took a step back before Tolomon stood in front of him, commanding everyone to give him space. He let out a breath of surprise as they obeyed.

Every morning there was a letter waiting for him, slid under his door, from the children. It was the highlight of his morning. He read the letters on his walks, laughing quietly to himself at Emilia and Isla’s creative adventures. Matteo’s additions were always short but heartfelt. He’d talk about what he did at the farms, getting them ready for next year’s crops. They had finally cleared away the last of the debris from the snowstorm, and Indenuel couldn’t help but feel guilt trickle back into his soul.

Tolomon fit in well with the group, and in two days Indenuel wondered what it was like without him. Tolomon could disappear when he wanted to, and at the next moment be right next to Indenuel, staring at a potential threat before quietly retreating again. Despite the huge build, he somehow blended in with others. It was the first time in Indenuel’s life that he started to feel his fears lessen. No one could so much as touch him without Tolomon already deeming them safe.

One thing that Indenuel didn’t expect was how self-conscious he felt training with Nathaniel now that Tolomon was watching. Nathaniel and Indenuel went through stances, blocks, parries, and jabs, and all he could think of was how incredibly skilled these two men were with the blade.

They’ve had decades of experience, the tiny, encouraging voice told him. Be patient.

Except the end of the war depends on you, another voice added.

Indenuel managed to knock Nathaniel’s sword, cutting his hand in the process. Indenuel backed away, wincing. Nathaniel held his hand, the blood trickling from his fingers and simply beamed. “Wonderful! Simply wonderful. You are right where you need to be. In another week you’ll be training with the best at the King’s Militia.”

He sheathed his sword, watching as Martin healed Nathaniel’s hand. “Sorry.”

“For what? This?” He held up his hand that was already healed. “Can’t even tell.” He used his foot to throw his sword in the air before catching it by the hilt. A stupid move, that would have most likely got him another cut on his hand, except he did actually catch it. “Care for another round?”

Indenuel chewed his bottom lip. “You’re… you’re going to leave in another few days.”

“Yes. We’re approaching Guali soon, and that is where I must part to train my troop.” Rosa approached with a cup of water and he smiled at her as he took it.

“It’s just…” Indenuel stared again at Nathaniel’s sword. He took a drink and brought it down, waiting for him to continue. “I know you’ve been going easy on me.”

His face softened. “Yes, I have.”

“If you’ve fought Kiamese soldiers, do you think you can replicate their skill? Give me an example of what I’ll be up against?” Indenuel asked.

“The combat style you’re talking about usually isn’t done until you’ve had a couple more weeks of training.”

“And I’m supposed to end the war, preferably soon,” Indenuel said.

The smallest twitch of a smile crossed Nathaniel’s face before he handed the cup back to Rosa. “Are you certain you’re ready? This kind of combat means facing your fears.”

Indenuel went back to chewing on his bottom lip. He was going to fight like this soon anyway, and he’d rather try it out first with Nathaniel before anyone else. There was something safe about fighting him. “I’d like to, before you go.”

Nathaniel nodded. “Alright. I trust you to be able to stop when you need. Combat style is simple. You fight until someone is knocked out, or the other opponent surrenders.”

“Alright,” Indenuel said.

“Since we’ve had scares before, I will request Derio, Riel, my father, and Rosa be on high alert through the entire combat. I ask that you give them permission to probe you throughout the fight, to alert me if your corruption builds to a danger point.” The four of them, all watching already, started coming together. Indenuel gave the tiniest nod. He sensed it, one at a time, all four of them gently probing his powers. It wasn’t invasive, as they couldn’t sense how strong his powers were, simply the lack of corruption inside him. Honestly, Martin might be the only one powerful enough to contain the corruption inside him, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. The memory of what happened to Nathaniel last time was enough for him to try not to get to that point ever again.

“I’m ready,” Indenuel said, gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Tolomon? Do I need your permission to do this too?” Nathaniel asked.

Tolomon laughed. “I appreciate the concern.”

“Concern of my own safety. I don’t want you coming after me either.” Nathaniel closed his eyes and moved his sword from hand to hand before it settled again in his right, making the basic stance. “Ready?”

Indenuel nodded, doing the basic stance himself. Nathaniel saluted Martin, Derio, Rosa, and Riel before he was there, beating against Indenuel’s sword with his own. Indenuel barely managed to block three blows before trying for a jab. Nathaniel blocked it easily and elbowed Indenuel in the face, hearing a popping sound and the warmth of blood falling way too quickly down his lips. He gasped, the shock of it more surprising than the actual pain. He sensed Nathaniel about to give up, but a Kiamese soldier wouldn’t. It was as Nathaniel said when he was given the sword. He’d have to learn to fight with the injuries, and he wasn’t ready to surrender yet.

Indenuel went for another blow. Nathaniel blocked it and another, his blows turning quicker and harder, and Indenuel barely had the strength to hold them back. The metal clanged, and Nathaniel forced Indenuel’s sword around before punching Indenuel’s wrist, almost too fast to follow. His wrist snapped, and he let out a gasp as his sword dropped from the weight against his broken wrist. The fear began to build. The trees started paying attention.

“Nathaniel,” Derio said quietly, holding out a hand.

“We need to stop. You’re fine where you are. You don’t need to be perfect yet,” Nathaniel said.

“The faster I learn, the faster the war is over.” He picked up his sword with his left hand and went again, clumsily. Nathaniel blocked it with his own.

“Then stop acting out in fear.”

Indenuel went for a jab, and Nathaniel blocked it. He pushed the metal closer to Nathaniel’s face. “I’m not!”

Nathaniel threw Indenuel’s sword off him and sliced through Indenuel’s right arm. He didn’t have time to comprehend whether it was a deep gash, simply that it happened. He curled up on himself, the fear there, the trees listening.

“Nathaniel,” Derio said again, more urgent.

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t say you’re not afraid when you are. That’s not bravery, and that will not save you in the battlefield.”

He gripped his arm, feeling the blood trickle through his fingers. “There are too many people depending on me.” He made a few jabs, which Nathaniel blocked easily.

“Stop listening to the expectations of others.” His voice was strangely calm as Indenuel blocked his jabs. “You need to rely on yourself.” He made another jab that Indenuel miraculously blocked with his left hand. He was so busy blocking Nathaniel’s sword that he didn’t suspect Nathaniel’s fist appearing from the side, hitting him hard against the side of his head. He dropped his sword, backing away.

We are here for you. The whispers were dark and caused goosebumps to rise on his arms.

“Nathaniel!” Riel said.

Command us, and we will break him.

“Keep your mind free from the fear, or the demons will enhance it, and you will lose,” Nathaniel said as calmly as ever. “To be afraid is fine, to pretend you aren’t could mean your death.”

Indenuel’s heart pounded in a chamber of icy fear. He heard their whispers, heard their offers for help. He hardly had time to look up before Nathaniel punched him again. Indenuel was ready to block the next punch, but Nathaniel kicked him hard in the chest. The wind was completely knocked out of him as he fell to the ground. The helplessness returned, the fear, the whispers. He refused to decipher them. They melded with his fear, fed into it. The sky waited, the trees waited, there was a buildup of anger, translating into pain inside his gut, trickling to his wrists. He got to his knees, air finally returning, resting on his good arm, clutching his broken one to his chest. He discovered his sword right next to him.

“Nathaniel,” Derio said, his voice far more alarmed.

“Stop it, son,” Martin said.

“I can’t hold it back. Whatever he does, I can’t hold it back,” Rosa said, sounding terrified.

“They are dangerous around him,” Riel said.

The four of them all talked at once, the alarm there. Indenuel needed to surrender, but Nathaniel came toward him, holding his sword ready.

He won’t stop.

They never did in Mountain Pass.

You must defeat him.

In any way possible.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as the demons continued to hiss. He needed to deal with this threat. The fear would not let him go unless he was safe.

Indenuel grabbed his sword with his left hand, ready to do anything necessary to be safe. He let out a yell as he tried to get Nathaniel. He blocked it easily, once again forcing the sword to the side and punching Indenuel’s left wrist, breaking it easily. He dropped the sword again, the hopelessness complete.

Nathaniel forced Indenuel around, pinning his arm against his back. The fear burned inside him. Again, Derio, Martin, Rosa, and Riel were talking fast and in alarm.

“Surrender yourself, Nathaniel!” Rosa said.

“He can’t go on like this!” Martin shouted.

“Adosina, get the children away,” Riel said.

“The trees are starting to break! I can’t hold them back!” Derio said.

Nathaniel ignored all of them. The corrupted pain built up. Indenuel could easily transfer the corrupted pain to Nathaniel, make him drop fast. Fill him with enough pain to force him to let go.

A sword appeared at his throat, and he gasped, squirming. “I surrender. I surrender. I surrender.” His words blended so horribly he was terrified Nathaniel didn’t get the message. He was a whimpering mess as tears streaming down his face.

“Easy,” Nathaniel said, his voice full of warmth. “Look around you. You’re not in any actual danger.”

The pulsing pain emanating from his body fed into his instincts. He had cuts and bruises all over, both wrists were broken, his nose was broken. He was in danger, he needed to get out by any means necessary. There were whispers all around, feeding him with fear. Nathaniel had a sword to his throat. Indenuel closed his eyes, too terrified to see how close he was to death. The whispers intensified.

“You’ve surrendered. The combat is done. You don’t need to hurt anyone with that corruption. Alright?”

“Please,” Indenuel said through his broken nose. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me.”

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. You’re safe. Open your eyes.” Nathaniel was so calm. So in control. He remembered the panic the others had, but he never gave into it. He was completely steady.

“I can’t, I can’t. I don’t want to look at them.”

“Look at who?” Nathaniel asked.

“The demons. There everywhere, I know it. I can’t. I can’t,” Indenuel said.

“Riel is banishing them as we speak. Whatever you hear is just the residue of your fear. Listen.”

Indenuel did. Nathaniel’s voice was so confident yet calm that he couldn’t help but listen to it. He didn’t hear them anymore. The fear was there, but the whispers were gone. He heard his own panicked breathing, but he also started to hear other things, like the breeze playing through the trees, and some birds chirping in the distance.

“Open your eyes. Look at the camp. Ground yourself. They’re not there,” Nathaniel said.

“The sword. The sword.”

“It’s me. You know me. I’d never kill you. Open your eyes and face it. You can do it.”

Indenuel slowly opened his eyes. The sword was gone. Somehow, while Nathaniel had him pinned, he had sheathed his sword again. Riel was there, hands out with his back to Indenuel, a protective shimmer around the camp. Martin was there, holding out his hands, his face focused. There was a golden shield around Indenuel’s body, keeping the corruption from traveling to anyone else. If Indenuel had used the pain, it would have only gone to Nathaniel, because he was still holding onto Indenuel for some reason. Nathaniel could have easily let go, but he didn’t. Rosa was pacing around, looking worried. Derio had his hand on a tree, waiting.

Indenuel started to cry. Nathaniel put his free hand on his shoulder. “You pushed yourself way too hard, but you stopped yourself in time. You are learning a master skill right now. We’re here to help you. We all want to see you succeed,” Nathaniel said, his voice still quiet and in control. Indenuel closed his eyes, still painfully aware there were tears running down his cheeks. He took a deep, steadying breath.

“My father and I will heal you, and all those cuts and bruises will be gone. Then you and I will eat some lunch together.”

Indenuel nodded, feeling himself more grounded. The corruption started to dissipate, as did the fear. He was the one that suggested they fight like this. He could have stopped it but didn’t. He should have. Luckily, no one had gotten hurt.

Nathaniel let go of his arm. “Congratulations, Indenuel. Mental battles are always the hardest to win.”

Indenuel didn’t trust himself to speak. Martin dropped the shield from around Indenuel. Tears still streamed down his face, and he tried to wipe them, but his wrists were broken. He used his forearms to try and dry his tears, his entire body trembling as he smeared blood and dirt around his eyes.

“Come here, Indenuel. It’s alright.” Indenuel didn’t have his eyes open, so he was surprised when Nathaniel hugged him tightly. “You did well. You did really, really well.”

“I’m sorry,” Indenuel said.

“No, don’t apologize,” Nathaniel said as Martin took one of his wrists. The warmth of the healing power entered his wrist as the bones fused together. In no time at all it was perfectly fine, and he used it to quickly wipe his tears away while still shielded in Nathaniel’s hug. “You didn’t hurt anyone. Understand? It was all there, but you’re fine. I’m fine. Everyone in this camp is just fine.” Martin healed the other wrist up quickly.

“This is so uncivilized,” Indenuel said, his tears finally dry.

Nathaniel laughed as he let go. “It takes some getting used to. Come on. Let’s get you some lunch. You won today.”

Indenuel said nothing. He didn’t feel like he had won. They hardly started and he had a broken nose, two broken wrists, cuts and bruises all over, and he barely managed to convince himself to not drop every person in this camp with a gut full of pain.