The spear clattered to the ground as Reyland dropped it, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the top stair. In an instant he felt exhaustion creep into his limbs, and the pain in his injuries flared up as the adrenaline began abandoning his veins. He coughed painfully as the sharp pain in his ribs and chest choked him, but slowly his choking coughs turned into a low chuckle.

They'd done it. They were still alive.

He grinned tiredly and raised his face towards the sky, relishing the cool night air that brushed against his skin. He would get cold soon on an autumn night like this, but for now... he just enjoyed it.

"Reyland," Griff's voice interrupted his little moment remorselessly.

The apprentice gave an overdramatic sigh, slouching down even further against the wall.

"Before you say anything," Reyland groaned. "Just know that if it involves me getting up, the answer is no."

Griff merely raised an eyebrow at him, and stood silently for a moment. Whatever Griff was thinking about, it was entirely a mystery to Reyland... the man was as stoic as ever, even after the events of the night. When he did finally speak though, it caught Reyland a bit off guard.

"Well done."

Griff turned and walked down the stairs then, leaving his apprentice behind without a second glance. Even still, Reyland smiled slightly at the rare show of praise.

"I'll send a medic your way," Griff said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Rest for now. You've earned it."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Reyland smiled as he made himself as comfortable as he could against the wall.

The Order members were scattered everywhere on the hill in front of him. The air was filled with shouting, not the panic-filled shouts of battle, but the shouting of orders and directions. The horses were being dismounted, the packs of medicines and potions and bandages opened, the weapons sheathed or held at ease... it was music to Reyland's ears.

He closed his eyes, gingerly folded his arms over his chest, careful not to press into the open claw wounds, and for the first time in days, felt at ease. With the Order out in force and the blighted wolves driven off, they were likely safe for the next few hours at least... those wolves didn't seem like they were coming back anytime soon.

There was a soft thumph from beside him, and looking over, Reyland found a familiar black haired Norlander sitting silently on the steps at his left. Matthaeus wasn't looking at him, instead staring out watchfully at the Order as they swarmed over the hill. It was impossible to guess what the boy was thinking... his amber eyes gave nothing away.

"You alright?" Reyland asked quietly.

Matthaeus looked over at him slowly and blinked, but stayed silent.

"...Right, guess you don't know those words yet," Reyland sighed. "Well, you seem fine at least."

The apprentice grunted as he pushed himself upright a bit, wincing as both his arm and chest flared up with the movement. He spared a glance down at the makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around his left forearm, which was now soaked through with red. The hand below it was shaking slightly, which he couldn't seem to stop... although he took some comfort in that he could still move his hand fine otherwise.

"You know, for a kid, you actually weren't bad with that dagger of yours. Got that beastie right in the eyes... made dealing with it a lot easier," Reyland rambled, talking just for the sake of it. Matthaeus gave no signs he was listening, but Reyland knew the kid could still hear him.

"Speaking of..." Reyland pondered, as an odd question entered his mind. "Where'd you even find a blade like that? It didn't look much like a knife, more like a proper dagger... not the kind of thing you'd just find lying around a town like this."

The dagger in question was sitting inoccuously in a black leather sheath on Matthaeus' back hip, dangling somewhat loosely on a cord belt wrapped around his tiny waist. It looked entirely out of place on a child as small as Matthaeus, its dark wooden handle and the dull grey glint of steel a sharp contrast to the his off-white bandages and shirt and pale skin. Reyland couldn't shake the feeling that it simply didn't belong there, and he was really starting to get curious about just where the kid had gotten such a thing.

Matthaeus seemed, as far as Reyland could tell, a bit uncomfortable at the questions. The boy's amber eyes turned to meet Reyland's own, and he tilted his head to the side questioningly.

Reyland pointed down at the dagger, and raised an eyebrow. Matthaeus seemed puzzled for a moment, but his eyes lit up as soon as he put it together and he gently removed the dagger, handing it to Reyland silently.

The instant the dagger left its sheath, Reyland's heart nearly stopped. The world around him, the Order milling about on the hill, the distant whisperings of wind, it all faded away into nothing. All he could see was that dagger.

"Matthaeus," Reyland said in a panicked whisper, taking the boy's wrist in his hands before gently taking the dagger from him. "Where did you get this?"

Matthaeus drew back, looking guilty. Knowing that the kid couldn't answer him, Reyland gingerly held the dagger in both hands, frantically searching it over. He checked it once, twice, thrice... each time he came to the same, worrying conclusion.

"I need to find Griff," he said abruptly, rising to his feet in a moment. "He'll want to... no, he needs to..."

Matthaeus got up too, a rare show of emotion on his face in the form of worry. Reyland put a hand on his shoulder, already checking the crowd of black-clad warriors for the familiar form of his mentor.

"C'mon, let's go," Reyland said, spotting Griff talking to an important looking figure near the middle of the crowd.

Matthaeus stumbled as he was pulled forwards, but quickly gained his footing and followed close behind. The duo pushed and danced their way through the crowd, Reyland muttering hurried apologies to the Order members they passed. Some seemed a bit bothered as he marched through their midst, but a glance down at Reyland's ruined chest and the small boy he was leading and they softened their gaze and let him pass.

"Griff," Reyland blurted out as they reached him at last. Griff and the man he had been talking with both halted their conversation, Griff giving them a sharp glance while the other man seemed only amused at being interrupted.

"Yes, Reyland?" Griff grumbled.

"Did you give Matthaeus a dagger, or misplace one or... anything like that?" Reyland nearly panted.

"Of course not," Griff replied.

"Then where do you suppose he got this?"

Reyland held the dagger out for all to see. The look of shock on the unknown man's face was almost comical, especially next to Griff who merely frowned down at the blade. Griff reached out slowly and took the dagger, drawing it close and looking it over, just as Reyland had done at first, albeit much more calmly.

"...This is troubling," Griff muttered gravely.

Matthaeus was slowly shrinking under the eyes of everyone around, as the whole party was flicking glances between him and the weapon. Even some of the Order members nearby had been listening in, and were now staring at the boy with wide eyes, whispering among themselves. Reyland held his tongue, waiting for the more experienced members to speak, though he was growing more restless by the second.

"Well, I had heard about this interesting young man, but I see now he has more interesting things to unveil than I had realised!" The man Griff had been talking to suddenly broke the silence. He sounded genuinely amused now, and the mischevious, close-lipped smile he wore baffled Reyland.

"So, little tyke," The man said, kneeling down in front of Matthaues and stooping low, to be on eye level. "Want to explain where you got one of the Order's daggers from?"

Matthaeus had could never remember feeling quite so uncomfortable. Terrified out of his mind, runnning for his life, whatever tangled web of emotions he had experienced in front of the tree... somehow none of them had been quite like this.

Having a dozen sets of eyes staring at him intently, speaking words he couldn't understand. It was every bit as terrifying as being surrounded by the wolves.

A cold sweat broke out on his back. He wanted to just shrivel up into a ball and disappear.

The strange new man was still kneeling in front of him, smiling oddly and waiting for a response. Matthaeus was frozen, unable to even explain that he didn't speak Arkasian.

Griff said something to the new man, who blinked in surprise, then smiled and stood up. Matthaeus felt a surge of relief overtake him as he backed away, but it was only a single stone lifted from the mountain of pressure on his back. The eyes of what felt like hundreds of the Order members still weighed on him.

Griff stepped forwards, holding Matthaeus' dagger in hand gently. It looked so much smaller in Griff's hands than when Matthaeus held it...

"Matthaeus, may I ask you a question?" Griff asked, speaking very softly, as if to an animal that might be spooked at any moment.

He nodded in response.

"Do you know where you got this dagger from?"

I don't remember anything. Was what he wanted to say... but his mouth felt sealed shut. Instead, he shook his head. Griff nodded as if he had expected that.

"Do you know what this dagger is?"

It was just a dagger... wasn't it? Matthaeus tried to remember anything that he could about it... but there was nothing. Just the faint gut feeling that it wasn't his, wasn't something he was supposed to have... yet he had it anyways. It had been there since as far back as he could remember, back to being chased in the woods...

He shook his head to stop himself from thinking about it, as if he could shake away the bad memories. There were still so many parts of him that hurt even now, days after the chase.

Griff seemed to take his shaken head as a no, even though he hadn't meant it that way... but he truly didn't know what Griff meant, so he decided not to correct him. The older man backed away from Matthaeus then, a troubled expression on his brow, and began talking to the others around him. Matthaeus silently shivered and sighed in relief, now that most of the people around were looking at Griff, not him.

"Well, I believe this answers our dilemma," Griff said loudly, drawing even more attention to himself and away from Matthaeus.

Matthaeus' grasp of Arkasian wasn't enough for him to follow, so he busied himself by slowly slinking backwards towards a small tree where he sat down in the shadow, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Oh, does it now?" The strange other man replied, looking more amused than ever.

Griff nodded, and looked over to find Matthaeus staring up at him from his seat.

"The boy comes with us, until we have our answers. Reyland, see your wounds treated... we leave for the Keep at dawn."

Despite not understanding a word of what was said, Matthaeus had the sinking suspicion that his fate, for better or for worse, had just been sealed.