--06 Sans Raesyn, 1404--

The dim hours of the morning found Karmine silently strapping on what was left of his armor to his brigandine. He had done it enough by now that even without the cracks of a grey dawn bleeding through the warped panels of his room, he could fasten the protective gear securely. Unfortunately, his hosts had only managed to salvage his greaves and pauldrons—all worse for wear. Dings, scratches, and chips decorated the armaments from countless battles and travels. The stories they could tell, magnificent pieces of art and history. He smiled.

Karmine’s mind drifted to his conversation with Desiree the previous night. Blades. A group of highly trained mercenaries. They were amongst the most sought after Beast Hunters, bodyguards, elite soldiers, and private agents in Ellisandere. Their reach and renown far expanding beyond the simple boundaries of Aranes. The Imperial Legion was known to employ tens of dozens, and even the King’s Elites were mostly made up of Blades. Karmine had trained under one in his youth, and they were amongst the best and brightest of his compatriots, most still being stationed in Three-Kingdoms.

He finished strapping on the left shoulder, hoping for a smooth and uneventful expedition and successful reconnaissance. This is why he had scouts. Their keen sight and hearing would be quite beneficial to have right about now. Maybe he could ask the girl? She was looking to become a Blade, after all. He could employ her services, but she was young… and her training. He knew nothing about her experience or her training—his warning from the other day echoed in the hollows of his mind.

A liability.

He gave his broadsword a few practice thrusts and parries before sheathing it and shouldering his shield. He made his way to the knapsack in the corner of the dust-coated room.

But she did help pull him from Death’s cold grasp.

A liability.

The room he was given was small, barely large enough to hold a cot and side table. A couple of shelves lay mostly empty, though various odds and ends like pots or small chests rested upon them. Others in the room were dilapidated and hanging by a sliver or a loose nail, but the respite served its purpose, and Karmine had slept in worse and far more cramped conditions.

“I have no title of my own, and we do not even own the land we toil and slave on…” The look in her eyes. She was lost. Afraid. He could train her. Watch over her.

A liability.

“At least it's all functional,” He grumbled, buckling the leather vambraces he had collected from his knapsack. They weren’t in the best condition, but still, they had been a gift from one of his longest-standing comrades—also a Blade and Karmine cherished the leather wraps just the same.

“But you see, we are already involved since we rescued you, non?” She was right, but still.

A liability.

Karmine made his way to the hallway and peeked his head around the side of the empty doorframe. He couldn’t help but feel like a mouse asking permission from the master’s cat to venture from its hovel. The couple’s room was across and down the hall from him, and from what he could see, the door was still closed.

Should he wake her?

A liability.

Karmine was a specter stepping softly and silently so he could avoid waking the sleeping children. He shook his head and grumbled. He was nearing fifty, and he was afraid of disturbing children. Children!

“I hoped that it would help my family…” She had pleaded.

Realization cleansed his thoughts, and he sighed, ‘No, not children. Young adults trying to find their place in the chaos of this world,’ He shook his head, suppressing a grin. ‘Lance would get a kick out of this story. “You’re growin’ soft in your Silver years, you old Goat,”’ He would say, and Karmine surprisingly found himself looking forward to recounting these events at a tavern with his oldest friend.

Karmine muffled the sound of metal on wood as best as he could. The floor panels creaking and moaning beneath his weight. Making sure to leave his hosts undisturbed, he shifted his footing in a delicate pattern, as if performing an elegant dance that he had been practicing for years. He hoped that he would be long gone by the time they stirred.

‘There was no reason to involve them, right? Right?’ Karmine was still at war with his own indecision, questioning and second-guessing his actions. The father in him screamed, ‘Help them. Save them,’ while the soldier in him argued, ‘They are civilians. Keep them safe and at a distance. Far away from these problems and your mission.’

Liabilities.

Karmine placed his hand on the doorknob, his portal to the outside world—his world, and all its grimness. He glanced back at the shadowed hallway where the two runaways rested. A soft, dim light peeked from under their doorframe. Dawn. Karmine paused if only for a moment, turned to the front door, now partially open with a sliver of grey morning freedom, and stepped through it. They were not his responsibility.

Karmine emerged from the sanctuary into the murky gray of the morning. The sun was just starting to crack the sky with splinters of a dull red and burnt orange. Most of the violet clouds with their red underbellies from the night still hung low in the sky. Thin tendrils of fog silently crept across the clearing, longingly embracing the cool, dew-covered earth.

Across from him, the boy stared at Karmine expectantly, perched against the fencepost separating the thinning woods from the grounds of the cabin. Not far off, a grey mare whinnied and stomped her foot at the disturbance before going back to her breakfast.

“You’re an early riser,” Karmine said simply, shutting the cabin door silently behind him.

“I heard you getting ready. I had hoped you would be departing earlier,” The boy’s words were laced with venom.

He projected an air of dissonant confidence, though the uneasy look on his sweat-covered brow betrayed his innermost thoughts. A gentle morning wind picked up, carrying pollen and petal. Spring was in full bloom. The boy’s neck-length hair and open shirt rippling ever so cautiously on the breeze. The laces of his tunic waltzing in time with his bangs.

“You’ve keen hearing, Master Bouras-“

“Vas,” The boy quickly interjected. “For the last time, just- Vas… please,” Karmine had to strain his neck to hear the boy’s whispered response.

“First name it is then,” Karmine sighed, a hurricane blowing from deep within the confines of his exasperated conscience and growing futility. He was tired of the boy’s negligence to his station. The Bouras family was quite well-known and well-respected throughout Aranes. Why was he so insistent about dropping his namesake? “You know, those ears of yours could prove quite useful one day,” Is this what they call fate? He snorted disparagingly as he shook his head. “T’would be my luck,” he whispered.

“I’m not a tool to be used,” Vasilios said pointedly.

“I never said you were,” He paused, studying the boy as if he were deciding which days’ catch to take to market. “What do you want, Mast-” the boy glared at him. “Vasilios,” The boy’s tempestuous behavior was getting on his nerves.

There was a long pause as if he didn’t know how to answer the question. Just as Karmine was getting ready to resume his journey, the boy spoke with a voice as distant as the Corellian Sea.

“I just want to be left alone.”

Karmine stopped, letting a wry smile decorate his face. “And how is that going for you?” He crossed his arms and cocked his head, staring down his nose at the boy. Vas was silent, shoulders slumped, jaw clenched, eyes downcast. The dagger-like glare never leaving them. His posture told Karmine everything he needed to know.

“If only you understood the irony of your statement,” Karmine exhaled a long breath, trying to keep his voice calm. “You will hear no qualm from me, though your friend might think otherwise. She is rather devoted to you, you know? And I feel it would benefit you greatly to allow yourself to open up to her more.” Karmine hardened his gaze, returning the boy’s vacant stare. He felt no malice to the child, at least no more than when one of his soldiers stepped out of line. The boy was running in place, and it showed. He had no sense of guidance or control.

“You would benefit from having a mentor,”

“I can do this without yours or anyone else’s help, Karmine,” The venomous tone returning to his words.

“Well, to be frank, Master Bouras, I didn’t mean me. I’d rather not play at being your wetnurse. I don’t have the time nor the patience to babysit you as you struggle with your identity crisis. I have a task to fulfill, so if you’ll excuse me,” He made his way through the gate before stopping, “Heed my warning, if you do intend to make your own way in this world, it will benefit you to learn some discipline and to be able to rely on others.” After that, he parted from the mage’s company, pushing his way through the boy's caltrop stares. He walked several yards and paused, exhaling a deep breath to calm his growing temper. He turned back to face him, trying to muster a kind smile. Again, not his best skill.

“I don’t imagine this will be the last time we cross paths, and I look forward to seeing what the both of you are capable of when next we meet. I wish you all the luck in this world and that the Light watches over you and humbles you,” As he walked on, he felt Vas’s eyes on the back of his neck like old moss rooted in place. The pair had a long and challenging journey ahead of them. “May the Light watch over and guide them both.”

It was past noon when Karmine realized he was being followed, the cries of the young girl echoing in the air. “Messer Commander!” She hollered, her words elegantly lacing together as she raced to catch up with him.

“Fate is a cruel mistress indeed,” he chuckled, shaking his head bemusingly.

He turned to face his pursuer and was surprised to see the boy following solemnly behind her… like a whipped dog. ‘Of course.’ On the boy’s waist, he had clipped a brass-colored blade shaped like an olive palm, while attached securely to the woman’s back was an old, off-market lance. By the looks of it, the lance was several years old and had spent more time in storage than combat.

“What in the Light’s name is it? I thought I made it clear that I didn’t need or want the two of you tagging along.”

“Well, you made a poor show of it,” She smiled. “Will you take us with you? Please, Monsieur Frost?” She clasped his hand in both of hers. Her emerald eyes peered through him, bright and full. “I have been training since I was little to give my family a better life, instead of one toiling away in the soil. So, please let us accompany you,” she pleaded.

“You want no part in my journey, child. Now would you be so kind as to return my hand to me? I need to find my way back to where my men were last stationed,” Feeling her grip weaken, Karmine snatched his hand back as if avoiding the maw of a ravenous beast.

“And how do you intend to do that, Monsieur, when we found you facedown in the dirt? You have no idea where you are going.” She crossed her arms and leered at him cock-eyed, full of herself.

Karmine felt a smile tug at his lips. He knew she was right. He would be lost and blind out in these woods. The Somnerveil was new territory to him. However, he also was aware of how little he knew of their skills. Liabilities.

“We can help you! I am quite skilled with the lance, at least for an amateur, and Vas, he is uhh… quite skilled as a tracker and a mage, you see.” The boy continued staring at the ground as if expecting it to disappear at any moment.

“I know nothing about you, and I have yet to see anything from him except his prolificacy for the healing arts and staring at the ground,” the boy’s brow furrowed as he glared. Karmine snorted a laugh and turned his attention back to the girl. “I have enough blood on my hands as it is, and I don’t care to add the deaths of two naive children who want to play at being soldiers to my conscience.”

“We are not ‘children playing at soldiers!’” The girl hollered—defiance burning brightly in her hardened, emerald gaze. “We want to help you, l’ idiot.”

Karmine felt a brief smile flutter across his lips. He was impressed by her blunt persistence. He looked at Vas hidden beneath the slump of his shoulders and the mess of his cinnamon locks. “And you’re supposed to help… how?” Karmine arched his brow, taunting them.

Nothing.

The boy continued gazing at the ground though he could tell Vas’s face had hardened with his back's stiffening. ‘Give it to me… show me your fire! You want to make your own name? Now is the chance to show me! Let me help you!’ Karmine patterned his thoughts, his fingers twitching impatiently. He stared at Vas, his hard eyes trying to pierce the boy’s subconscious. ‘Look. Up! You codless worm! Look up!’

Nothing.

Karmine’s expression darkened as he felt the tension rising in his chest. ‘I suppose I need to push him further…’ Karmine laughed bitterly. “I see then. Pathetic,” He spat on the ground. “You two would be nothing but hindrances, holding your hand, changing your britches. I’d sooner have better use for a pair of lame mules; at least then, I could sell you at the market when you outlive your usefulness to me.”

The girl’s brown skin flared up, wrinkles creasing her forehead, her delicate and pretty face twisting into a look of vile revulsion. Her hand twitched as if she were to grab her lance and impale Frost on the spot. “I know what ‘e is capable of, and your words, they sicken me. You are no better zan a dog! Go to Hell!” She spat. Her heavy accent sharpening her words like a blade, dropping consonants in frustration. The woman’s angular features contorting in rage.

“Come Vasilios, we leave this, this rabid beast alone. May worms feast upon him when ‘e starves to death. I am sorry we ever found this ungrateful animal.” She grabbed at the boy’s hand, as if he were her younger brother to keep him from getting lost in the woods, and led him away.

Karmine clicked his tongue as he debated his next words carefully. “It’s all or nothing,” he mumbled under his breath. He lifted his head up and watched them head in the direction of their cabin.

“You gonna let a skirt dictate your life, boy? What a fine lad!” His words reeked of sarcasm, trying effortlessly to bait a reaction. Any kind of reaction… “I’m sure your parents would be so proud to know that their baby boy will still be kept under lock and key, miles from home. So much for ‘making your own name.’ Eh, lad?” Karmine plastered the biggest mocking grin he could muster. It hurt. ‘This has to work. Show me you have the drive! The courage! What are you capable of?’

“Show me!” Karmine screamed out, frustration and disappointment taking reign. He was no longer pretending.

Nothing.

“Fine,” he growled and turned his back to the two of them.

Karmine took two steps, and the earth exploded next to him, causing the soldier to stumble and take cover under his shield, covering his face from the chunks of rock and dirt now showering him. When the dust settled, he looked at the cause of the eruption in bafflement. Sticking out of the ground, barely two feet from where he stood and threatening to impale him, was a pike as long as Karmine was tall… made of stone.

“The next one won’t miss,” sounded a calm voice. Karmine’s ears perked up at the tone, and he smiled. ‘Finally.’

“I was beginning to wonder if there was more to you, boy.”

Vasilios dropped Desiree’s hand like a venomous snake and marched towards Karmine, unsheathing his blade. “It's Vas! My name is not boy,” he flourished his sword downward, “lad,” slashed it to the opposite side, “or Master Bouras,” He stood at the ready blade upwards en garde, his casting hand now palm up and emitting a dim yellow-orange light.

“It is Vasilios, and I belong to no one.” The boy’s eyes alight with a dark, burning flame—a dangerous-looking flame.

Karmine was surprised to feel goose-bumps rise on his arms and neck, and although he swore the boy’s eyes were a warm, vibrant blue when the girl ushered him off, now they were glowing a fierce scarlet…

“Just like before,” he whispered in quiet bemusement. Had he pushed the kid too far? No, he had to see this, “War-Mage’s” drive. Karmine readied himself, sword and shield drawn. “Let’s go, boy,” He whispered under his breath, a hidden smile perking up the corner of his lips. He felt his chest swell with excitement. Karmine had been spent two days bed-ridden, and was craving some form of action.

Thum! Another explosion of earth, shattered the ground near the duelists. Karmine instinctively lifted his shield, the rocks and pebbles harmlessly bouncing off the crisscrossed metal banding melded to the otherwise flat and unadorned surface. Karmine looked to his right, expecting to see another spike of rock jutting into the air as a warning, or a threat more like. Instead, he saw the obsidian-studded oaken sledge of a Sylvan Walker embedded into the soil.

“By the Blood of the Light,” he cursed, lowering his shield in disbelief.

In front of him stood a gnarled mass of moss and wood—vines coiling around its skeletal limbs, writhing and twisting like snakes. It had no eyes. However, the empty sockets still glowed with an aethereal sickly green light that sparked outward like embers off a roaring flame or lantern bugs that have fallen to plague. A wide crack flowed downwards from its temple, where more of that strange light trickled. The monstrosity dwarfed the commander, standing twice his height with its head resembling a horned skull, shaped from rotting and fungus-ridden driftwood. Karmine tightened his grip around the shaft of his broadsword, his knuckles cracking and turning white. ‘What the fuck?’ He stared on in disbelief.

“Is this the one, Boy?” He said, raising his voice so he could be heard above the thundering roar of the titan and the crashing of its footsteps. The ground shook as it lumbered closer, causing Karmine to stumble. “This is precisely why I left the sea. No stable ground,” He grumbled. “Dammit, lad! Respond! Is this the one?” No response. Fine. “Vasilios, is this the one that took my men?” The beast bounded closer.

“Yes, it is! They’re petty and prefer their solitude. Never knew one to hold this much of a grudge, though.” A wry smile appeared on the youth’s face like he was attending Festival.

Blithering idiot. Frost glowered, ‘Now the boy chooses to don a sense of humor.’

“Very well,” Karmine replied. “Now, show me what you are capable of.”

“Desiree, I need you to help the commander. Try to flank the brute,” Again, the boy sounded oddly confident and sure of himself. Gone was the timid and meek persona of the frightened child Karmine had just taunted.

The girl removed her lance from her back and stood next to Frost, tossing him a sharp, bane-filled glare. “Ass.”

Karmine shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?” Veering to the right of the walker’s strike, Karmine brought the sword down on its arm. The ringing of metal rang out, the blade snapping in twain.

“Silver, commander. You need silver.” The woman’s lisp making her sound almost snake-like. “How can you not know that?”

“I fight humans. In armor,” Frost said pointedly, dodging another blow. “Do I look like a Beast Slayer to you?”

“So, you came through Somnerveil… with no silver,” Vas flashing Frost a sardonic grin.

“It was a shortcut!”

Vas spread the fingers of his left hand, palm open. “Boreinys Tetra-ka.”

The earth beneath the golem started rumbling at the boy’s call. Bending the tips of his fingers inward like claws, a barrage of stone spikes shot from the ground, as if triggered by a tripwire, embedding themselves into the beast’s chest and bursting through the opposing side.

“I didn’t think it was necessary!” Karmine said, rolling behind a boulder.

Bits of stone, wood, and moss rained down on the trio.

“Ylni Zekai,” Vas formed a dome of swirling air around himself and Desiree, while Karmine shielded himself from the wreckage. The rain of debris bounced harmlessly off his shield with the plinking sound of children’s marbles.

Karmine tightened his grip on the remains of his sword and walked out from the shelter of the stone. The spikes from the earth recoiled at the boy’s urgings, leaving gaping holes in the Faebeast’s torso, an ominous viridian energy hissing as it escaped its prison.

Karmine observed the lad’s use of magic and found himself… impressed. “Silver or not, all things bleed,” a smirk slid its way onto his face as he ran towards the monstrosity. Karmine needed Vasilios, and so did his master. All things bleed.