Chaos Upon Valysia {Eternal Wanderer x Cinnamon }

[SilentMadness]

Twenty one men marched through a forest. Black hoods over their heads. Heavy pieces of armor upon their strong, solid bodies. Each carrying two swords at their hips, bows upon their backs and knives into their boots. In front of them all stood the leader. Taller than all, standing at more than 7 feet, perhaps. A large body with broad shoulders and outstanding stature. Upright, taking the steps, he walked and led his men towards where they were headed. Blue eyes looked far into the distance and saw, beyond the forest, the smokes of the siege. His mind drifted immediately to where it all started.


"You are to bring princess Ariana of Khorinys safe and unharmed to me, sellsword. You will have everything you want after you carry out this task successfully. I know you can, you are the best sellsword in all the four kingdoms"


That was what king Isumron the Deathless has told him when he gave him the mission. He knew very well what was the purpose of all this. But he was bound to ask no questions and do nothing else but follow the orders of the one who was to pay him whatever he wished. It interested him nothing beyond that. But now he had to march with his 20 mercenaries from north, where the castle of king Isumron, Rakhmaar, lied, all the way to Khorinys, in the very south. And it wasn't an easy task to carry out. Khorinys was found now under the siege of the most feared creatures in all Valysia, orcs, who marched from the northern mountains named Throg, with a purpose. They brought Khorinys' famous crystals of unknown origins to Isumron, for he needed them. But after they brought enough, Isumron couldn't trust the orcs to bring him the fairest of all maids, the princess of Khorinys, and so he sent the sellsword and his men to slay the orcs and bring him the princess. For this would also get the king rid of his debts to the orcs.


The nameless sellsword continued marching with his men, for hours, and the smokes rising from the siege were getting bigger. The princess was sealed away in the highest tower of Khorinys, her father having died during the battles outside the walls of Khorinys. The moment of another battle approached. Mercenaries versus orcs.

 

[Cinnamon]

How had things come to this? The day had started off so ordinarily, like every other day in the peaceful kingdom of Khorinys. It hadn't been until late into the evening that things began to take a turn for the worst. Princess Ariana, the king of Khorinys's only child, had been in the process of ascending to the kingdom's tallest tower, intent on visiting the royal library before bed. The princess had caught sight of a massive shifting shadow, for lack of a better term, through one of the tower's many windows. Bemused that the shadow appeared to be moving, the princess had pointed it out to the member of the royal guard accompanying her. The pair watched as the shadow came closer and closer to the kingdom's walls, so unsuspecting of an attack it didn't occur to either viewer the shadow was actually an invading army marching towards the kingdom until the fighting had already begun.


The royal guard had ushered Ariana up the rest of the stairs to the library, promising to come back for her as soon as possible before closing the doors, leaving the princess alone and frightened in the large room. After countless minutes stretched out to feel like hours, Ariana could sit idly by no longer. Even so high above the kingdom the princess could hear the desolation of her kingdom. The screaming, crying, yelling, and clashing of metal against metal mixed with the orc army's battle horns, laughter, and cheering, forming a cacophony that assaulted the princess's senses, threatening to slowly drive her insane. Desperate to distract herself, the princess took the only course of action she had left to her; destroy the wealth of knowledge contained in the royal library, ensuring no one could claim Khorinys's secrets as their own.


Starting with the most sacred tomes, Ariana tore the books from their shelves and rushed them to the large fireplace located in the center of the room, unbearably grateful a small fire was already burning in its depths. The princess stood in front of the flames, momentarily torn as she stared down at the books in her arms. It went against every fiber of her being, but if Khorinys fell- if it had already fallen- it was the princess's duty to make sure the kingdom's secrets, most specifically relating to their sacred crystals, were not compromised. Ariana forced herself to release the books, watching for a moment as the flames quickly spread across their pages, before turning on her heels to get the next batch of books.


With the flames consuming the castle already devouring everything in their path, the princess's actions were more than likely pointless. If the fumes leaking into the room were anything to go by, it wouldn't be long before the fire claimed the entire structure, taking Ariana and the books along with it. Despite knowing this the princess did not hesitate in her actions. What was the alternative? Twiddle her thumbs and wait to see who would get to her first, the smothering fumes of the fire or the hoard of orcs that had already claimed the majority of her home? The princess wasn't a fool, she was well aware she wasn't leaving the tower with her life. If there had been even a smidgen of hope her guardian would have joined her in the tower by-


Ariana's breath rushed from her lungs as though she had been winded. With a stiffled groan, the young princess crumpled to her knees in the middle of the room. She clenched her eyes tightly against the torrent of despair that threatened to consume her, clutching the forgotten books in her arms to her chest as if it could keep her heart from fraying around the edges. Thinking of the head of the royal guard, her personal guardian and childhood friend, had caused the princess to subconsciously reach out for his spirit, searching for the spiritual presence she associated with the man.


There was nothing. No matter how hard the princess concentrated on locating her friend he was no where to be found, no life force left in his body to be detected. Oh, her dear, dear friend. If even he, the kingdom's strongest warrior, couldn't stand against the invaders what hope did her family have? She knew her father, knew he would stand and fight with his soldiers. What if he too-


Ariana sprang to her feet as suddenly as she had fallen, dumping the books in her arms unceremoniously into the flames of the fireplace before dashing back to the bookshelves for the next load. She was desperate to smoother the thought before it triggered her subconscious to seek out her kin's presence as it had with her friend. The young princess didn't think she could handle knowing their fate. Soon, the orcs would breach the tower and she would no longer have to worry about containing her emotions. She would find peace in the after life with those that waited for her.

 

[SilentMadness]

The mercenaries halted at once, at the command of their leader. They were marching closer, and the smokes of the burning Khorinys rose above the clouds. Could the princess still be alive? She had to be, else their mission would be in vain, and the reward forfeit. They all knew the wild orcs mostly failed tasks that required some certain persons to remain alive. But hopefully, the bloody beasts didn't lay their hands on the fairest of all maidens, the Princess. Turning around to the group of men, the mysterious sellsword gave his orders. His voice was deep and tough, it was clear by it that this man was a master of warfare and knew nothing else but battle.


"The orcs have probably lain outposts to thwart any incoming attack from the north. Sorgar and Renhill, you two are to detach from the group and seek any outposts. You are the best archers i know, you know what to do when you find an outpost. Spread out by east and west. The rest of us will remain at the edge of the forest until nightfall. Those green skinned bastards are known for throwing feasts and getting drunk on any siege, if we attack during the night they will be dizzy and will be easy to outdo. We have to get in there and take out the princess"


The two men he named nodded and ran off into the forest, one to the east and one to the west, as he commanded. The other men nodded as well, and from the group, one voice rose


"Aye, and if i lay my hands on that princess, she will have a taste of man. I guess the king didn't specify whether she should be pure or not"


The other men started laughing, but as soon, the leader looked straight to the one that spoke such atrocity and taking out his dagger, he pointed it to the man, a man with a face full of scars and a patch upon his right eye.


"If you as much lay one damn finger on the fairest of all maidens. i will carve your healthy eye out with this dagger and feed your genitals to the crows"


He needed not threaten anymore, he turned around and marched ahead, followed by his men. A few hours later, they all camped at the edge of the forest. The night was falling slowly, and they were having a dinner before releasing the battle chains. The orcs could be heard from the distance, laughing and speaking out loud in their mother language. There was a human scream, a woman, but it wasn't the princess, probably just a peasant woman the filths lain hands on on their way to Khorinys. The mercenaries awaited, patient. It was now past midnight, and as they closed their camp, they advanced, hidden by darkness. The orc camps outside the walls of the kingdom were also cloaked in darkness, as their campfires extinguished. As they expected, they started stumbling into drunk orcs, who slept wherever they found a place, not even close to waking up when a metal boot connected to their ribs, only grumbling.


Taking out their daggers, they started silently assasinating every orc they found in their way by slitting his throat. They started entering each tent and murdering every orc, already filling the grounds with the greenish blood. But the peace wasn't to last. Spotted by probably the only orc who was awake and sober, the men now quickly retreated and regrouped, as the alarm was called off and orcs started swarming with their swords drawn. The sound of battle horns was once more heard, the clashing swords, metal on metal, sparks in the darkness, it was an almost blind fight for both sides. The mysterious sellsword skillfully moved to the left and right, decapitating an orc with a one handed blade while the other impaled another in the guts, through the side. He almost seemed to dance between the incoming enemies and some of the orcs even killed each other as the sellsword narrowed the gap between them then, as they hit, he dodged both hits and just watched both blades sink into each orc.

 

[Cinnamon]

Several books fell to the floor at Ariana's feet with a series of thuds, the noise practically non-existent in the constant cacophony of terror rising to the tower from the ravaged kingdom below. Khorinys's princess stood in front of one of the large bookshelves housed in the tower, staring down at the books she had dropped blindly. Ariana's breath rasped in her parched throat with each inhale and exhale, deafening all other noise to the princess.


The smoke from the books burning in the library's fireplace had mixed with the fumes of the burning structure, leaking into the room through the library's sole entrance, forming a suffocating miasma that encased the majority of the room. Ariana hadn't minded too much at first, her mind set on her self assigned task. It wasn't until it the smoke clouded the room like a fog that the princess had started to feel the effects of the smoke she was inhaling. It had started as a frog in her throat, of course to be excepted when her throat was so dry, quickly progressing to a hacking cough that would stop the princess in her tracks. Ariana had been so distracted by her frustrating cough, skull splitting headache, and bothersome dry eyes that she hadn't noticed her mind beginning to slip at first. It wasn't until a coughing spell brought her back to her senses did Ariana noticed she had been standing motionless in front of the fireplace, holding the books in her arms until her shoulders screamed from the strain. Even in the princess's muddled state she understood she was starting to lose her senses.


Slowly, the princess lowered herself to the ground. The smoke would rise above the cleaner air. Someone had told her that before, she was sure. How else would she have known that? Her eyes final focused on the books they were directed at, as if on cue. Ariana giggled hysterically, quickly triggering another coughing fit. Her thoughts were as thick as the smoke clouding the room, making it near impossible to focus.


Focus, she ordered her fragments thoughts, trying to hold her mind together along enough to piece a thought together. She had been doing something important. The princess's eyes focused on the book once more. Something important. Khorinys's secrets. Had she managed to burn everything of importance? Did it even matter? Another cough fractured Ariana's struggling thoughts. The room was already drowning in the smoke, surely the flames couldn't be that far behind. The princess's mind felt so heavy, and her poor eyes so sore, all she wanted to do was go to sleep.


A strange bellowing noise slowly pulled Ariana from her mangled musings. She knew that sound, didn't she? She hadn't heard it in what seemed like years. Using the bookshelf to drag herself to her feet, the princess stumbled blindly towards one of the windows scattered throughout the room. Mildly surprised that she actually managed to find a window, Ariana fumbled with the latch until she managed to release it, the panels of glass swinging outward, allowing a gently breeze into the room to hit the princess in the face like a brick.


Ariana immediately leaned so far out the window she was almost bent double over the windowsill, desperate to get to the fresh air through the billowing smoke pouring through the open window above her. She greedily took in gasping breaths, her lungs begging for more of the beautiful substance. The feel of Ariana's long, sweat matted hair hanging loosely above her head towards the ground combined with the outer wall of the tower so close to her face was starting to make the princess feel nauseous, but the cool night air flooding her lungs and cooling her sweat drenched skin was worth the discomfort. She simply laid there for several minutes, appreciating the relief to her senses.


When the strange noise cut through the night again Ariana realized with a start where she had heard them before - at the beginning of the invasion. Battle horns. The princess's head snapped up so quickly to look for the source of the sound she almost lost her balance on the windowsill. Clutching the wooden sill so hard her knuckles turned white, Ariana strained her dry eyes for some sign of human life. Could there possibly be someone left in the kingdom to fight? Maybe it was supposed to be signify the orc's victory, meant to torment the few survivors left in Khorinys.


A glinting light caught the princess's attention, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the spot. There, at the entrance to the kingdom, was most certainly clashing swords, the light of the burning kingdom reflecting off the polished blades with each movement.

 

[SilentMadness]

The fight was intense. One after another the orcs fell, with or without their heads. One of them fell holding the head of one of the mercenaries, whom he brutally decapitated in his last seconds of life. Blood was pourring upon the grounds, green and red alike, shining now with every spark from the swords. Cussing words mixed in the noise, along with growls and speech in the orcish tongue. The chaos was falling low with each and every orc that died. The mercenaries also remained but a few, less than half of their initial number. But they didn't even care. All they were up for was the reward promised to them and nothing was going to stop them. A spear coming from nowhere impaled one of the mercenaries through the head, and just as he fell to his knees, his head was taken off his shoulders by a strong sword hit. But the orcs started to dissapear as quick. Some of them fled, seeing as there was one man, the leader of the mercenaries, who fought three at once and killed four from only two strikes. He was clearly doing a dance of death before which none of them could stand, and the most fearful fled, while the rest fell under his sword. After about two hours of fight, there were only two mercenaries on the field, and two orcs, the greatest and the best of them.


The mercenary leader took the first swing of sword. Two battles, two fields, four fierce warriors battling. The patch eyed mercenary and the leader sellsword against two orcs, the biggest, the strongest. The patch eyed mercenary finally hugged the orc into death, as both their swords pierced through each other. The sellsword continued his fierce dance with the orc, strike by strike, parrying every attack and taking advantage of every of the orc's failed attempts to strike back, with double force. Two giants fighting like titans each against the other. The sellsword's long, black hair, was gloriously flaring around his head, and blue eyes that reflected the light of some still burning fires of the castle were glowing in the night, focused only on the orc fighter. Their swords crossed again, metal on metal, strike by strike. A strong fight of equal skill. The orc took a large swing in an attempt to behead, and a metal gloved hand came up, dismissing the orcish sword from the trajectory, as the sellsword's blade quickly pierced the orc right through his neck. Green blood squirted out and the body fell down quickly. Now all that was left of everything was just a still burning ruin, full of corpses, some burnt, some unburnt. The mysterious man sheathed his swords and looked up to the tower. His vision was so good that he could see the princess staring down, and just like a giant, he started taking slow steps.


The heavy armor he wore made sounds with every step. He entered the tower by breaking the door to it, and taking the steps. Did not take him too long to get to the top, and just as much to kick the heavy wooden door of the library to splinters. He was huge, standing as tall as the doorframe. His face, wearing strong features and a battle scar under the eye was stained with dry green blood. Blue eyes looking towards the princess. A stern and heavy voice speaking to her.


"Princess, you will come with me"

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana felt hope swell in her chest for one fragile moment, before it was bitterly taken from her. It was impossible for word of the attack against Khorinys's walls to reach the kingdom's allies, let alone for reenforcements to be arranged and dispatched. No, the only explanation was that the unknown assailants had known about the attack before it had been executed. Ariana was positive this was the case, so why did it seem as though the new arrivals were fighting against the orcs?


Not only fighting but winning, the princess realized in awe, watching as the fighting picked up momentum once more. Her eyes weren't strong enough to make out details, but from her vantage point she could see approximately two dozen soldiers slowly but surely decimating the orc hord. She watched the battle rage on, at a loss for what was going on.


The princess's mind was still not working at full speed, but the fresh air had done wonders to clarify her thoughts and sooth the throbbing in her temples. Even so, she could not fathom why this was happening. Why were two forces now fighting for control of Khorinys? What could the peaceful kingdom possibly possess to warrent not one but two assaults? Ariana knew orcs didn't need a reason to draw blood, but from what the princess could make out those were human men warring against the orcs. Aside from the crystals found in Khorinys's lands, which were useless to humans, the only thing of value resided in this room. But if the enemy was after Khorinys's knowledge surely they would have reached the tower by now. Not to mention orcs interested in books? There had to be something else that the princess hadn't considered.


Ariana had been so consumed in her thoughts she hadn't realized the battle had dwindled down to the final four. She watched with bated breath as four became two, straining her eyes to catch every movement. In the diminishing light of the faltering flames the princess witnessed the battle finally end, the lone survivor standing tall amongst the endless sea of corpses. Ariana thought she caught a flash of green as the champion shifted, turning to face the tower.


Ariana jolted away from the window, a shudder running the length of her spine. The princess was certain the figure had seen her, she had felt the pressure of his gaze like ice in her veins. A loud crash emanating from below echoed the length of the tower up to the library, causing the princess to jump. She stood frozen in place, staying as silent as possible, holding her breath in an attempt to hear better. There it was, a faint clattering gradually get louder as if the source of the noise was getting closer.


Ariana looked around the room desperately. The majority of the smoke that had flooded the room earlier had escaped through the window, leaving only a light haze that would do nothing to conceal her. She could attempt to hide, the room was plenty large enough, but the bookshelves were mostly bare due to her previous actions, and she was certain he had seen her through the window. What should she do? What could she do? Whatever was approaching, be it man or orc, was blocking the only means of exitting the tower. The princess's gaze drifted to the window. The only means of leaving the tower alive, anyway.


The clattering was definitely growing louder. Ariana shook her head sharply, trying to stifle her growing panic. Her gaze caught on the large mahogany desk her father sat at when he occupied the library. The princess lurched towards it, throwing the drawers open to rummage through their content. Letters, papers, envelopes, ink, stamps, no, no, no, no, no- yes!


The warmed steel of the envelope opener felt like ice in Ariana's clammy palms. She stared at the tool grimly, aware of the dull blade and miniscule size but grateful to have something in her hands nonetheless. A glint in the corner of the drawer caught her attention before she could close it completely. Reaching for it, the princess gasped as her fingers closed around the familiar shape. A crystal, here? How-


Ariana jumped to her feet, jerking the drawer closed. The rhythmic clanging had reached just beyond the door. Flustered, the princess stuffed both of her discoveries down the front of her dress, spinning around to face the entrance in time to see the thick wooden door splinter and give way with a deafening crash.


The princess cringed away from the noise, wincing as stray splinters nicked her skin from the ferocity of the library door's demolition. She stared at the figure standing in the doorway with a terrible sense of dread. An orc, she thought numbly, her head tilting back to be stare at strong green features. An orc had conquered all of Khorinys.


She jumped as the man spoke to her, equally surprised by what he said and his race. Did humans really get that tall? He had to be at least a foot taller than her, if not two. The princess's heart sank further at the thought of the pitiful blade pressed against the skin of her chest.


Come with me, he had said- no, ordered. The princess's first reaction, quite reasonably in her opinion, was to politely decline and quite possibly flee out the window for good measure. What chance did she have if she declined? She had seen him fight. Ariana doubted she would even have time to utter a refusal before the warrior acted.


She couldn't feel any ill intent radiating from him as she stared into piercing blue eyes. From what Ariana could tell he had no intention of harming her, at least for the time being. His armour also looked quite heavy. The princess quickly concluded her best chance was to follow the man until she could assess the situation and wait for an opportunity to escape.


Steeling her nerves before she could change her mind, Ariana wordlessly stepped towards the man.

 

[SilentMadness]

He did not move from the doorway, only did he watch the princess step forth. It was as if she stepped on thin air, even with her body still trembling, her grace was something he has never witnessed before. Blue eyes looked her up and down, and he was awestruck. Gods above, he has never witnessed something like this, never before, even though he has travelled through all Valysia and has seen all the women who were there to see. Indeed, she was up to her reputation. "The fairest of the maidens" "Khorinys's Diamond", all these names were flying through his head and for that mere second he couldn't help it. What age could she be? He didn't know that much about her, rather than that she possesed a special ability, something about empathy, he didn't know too well as his education didn't consist of books read in libraries, but in worldly lessons. And also, that she was the only possible vessel for what King Isumron needed.


He looked her up and down once more, and came to realize her clothes betrayed her. He had to have her undress by her own and dress in some rags, or even better, a light armor. He could find one in the piles of corpses in Khorinys. Else, if someone saw him carry the princess, they both would have endless troubles until they reached the north. The few orcs that fled were probably headed to the Throg mountains, to tell the others about what has happened and to bring reinforcements. Moreover, he did not even know how to act before a high ranked lady, not that did he care much about her rank, but she might care for it. But he finally decided to act as he knew best.


Silent, he curled his fingers of his big, right hand, around her thin arm, soft enough not to hurt her sensitive skin and bones, as he was a giant compared to her, and slowly, but surely, he escorted her all the way down to the base of the tower. With a quick movement of his left arm, he drawn one of his swords. He knew from experience that not even in the loneliest place, you don't have to walk carelessly. Exitting the tower, he started to step through the so many corpses and body parts scattered all over. As soon as they reached the main gate of the royal city, in the middle of the road, a head was impaled on a spear. The king's head. The dead eyes stared into the sellsword's eyes, but as he was hardly affected, he did not even flinch. The princess, however, shouldn't have seen such atrocity, but there was no other way around it, so he decided he can put up with her later cries and pain, and pass her through.

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana's mind felt disconnected from her body. She silently allowed the man to lead her down the tower without resistance, focusing her eyes on the ceiling so as not to look at the bodies and limbs scattered across the floors. The princess felt like she were moving through a dream, or someone else's life, as though this wasn't truly her home. Maybe it wasn't. If she didn't look at the death and destruction that had engulfed her kingdom perhaps it would simply go back to the way it had been, a mere half day ago.


Shock, Ariana's mind offered her vaguely, though she couldn't comprehend what that meant at the moment. The adrenaline that had coursed through her veins for the majority of the evening no longer carried her forward, and with it's absence Ariana felt as though her body had gone completely hollow, leaving only an empty shell of who she used to be. Her throat, nose, and eyes burned from the the smoke she inhaled earlier, and her body ached from transporting the books for hours. The princess didn't care, though, only aware her breath was rattling in her chest again. The princess's mind felt fractured and it was difficult for her to piece together a thought, but at the moment she didn't want to think anyway. She didn't want to think about anything, didn't want to acknowledge what had happened to her beloved home. She wanted to collapse, sleep for a week, and wake to find her home good as new. The princess felt as though she might start laughing hysterically, but the urge quickly passed. Ariana was glad, though the emotion felt dull and unfamiliar, that she didn't. She didn't think her damaged throat would be capable of speech.


Ariana only noticed their location at the base of the tower when the man stopped to draw his sword. Her whole body tensed, waiting for the strike that would end her life. She looked away from the blade when he didn't appears as though he was going to use it against her. The princess's eyes slid from the sword to the ground for the first time, flinching when she caught sight of several severed limbs. She forced herself to look back to the ceiling before she could locate the body the missing limbs belonged to. If she didn't see who the corpse used to be she wouldn't mourn for individuals, won't have to think of the fate of her loved ones. She focused on the man hauling her out of the tower and into the royal city to distract from the urge to identify the bodies they passed.


The warrior at her side possessed a spiritual essence the likes of which Ariana had never encountered. The man's soul felt cold and distant, yet strong and unyielding. Were the circumstances different, the princess would have been fascinated by the man. Now, she simply wondered if he too had considered how easy it would be for him to snap her fragile limb he held in his massive hand. She doubted he would even have to try, but she couldn't detect any intention within him to cause the princess harm. So what was he after? When he had climbed to the top of the library he hadn't even glanced at the books, so clearly he had come for her. To what end? With her family gone there was no one to pay a ransom on her behalf.


That also didn't explain why the orcs had attacked first, or how the warrior and his men had known about the attack. The possibilities swirled endlessly in her dulled mind, but no plausible explanation came to her.


The slight shift of the warrior's emotions roused Ariana from her thoughts, her eyes drifting automatically to see the source of the shift before she could realize her mistake. She sucked in a breath sharply, her eyes landing on the sickening display in the center of the road. She knew what it was, she could see the familiar eyes that had looked upon her so fondly yesterday staring at her now, seemingly with accusation. She had known, really, that her father must have fallen during the battle, but she had still been holding on to a thin ray of hope that perhaps by some miracle he had made it out of the kingdom before the invasion had begun. That ray of hope was extinguished in a heartbeat, leaving nothing but numbness behind.


"I-" She tried to speak but her voice came out rough and garbled. Ariana cleared her throat, wincing at the burning sensation as it quickly progressed into a coughing spell. "I want to say a prayer," Her voice was still hoarse and difficult to understand, but she had managed to whisper them aloud nonetheless. Each word she forced herself to speak felt like a knife dragging along the inside of her throat, but if there was even a smidgen of hope he would grant her request she had to ask. "Please."

 

[SilentMadness]

Prayer. Prayer, she said. A word and a thousand of memories invading him. The circumstances of his life have turned him totally towards denying any god and any belief. By hard means, he learned that anything he needed to believe in was his sword, for that was the only thing he could control and understand. His sword, his speechcraft, his mischief, himself. However, he did not deny the beliefs of others, so he did not deny hers. But he also knew they had to leave the place at once. But as at a command, when she requested the permission to pray, a cold rain started falling upon them, extinguishing any fire that would still burn and causing black smokes to rise. It was as if the skies weeped for the tragedies that happened that very day.


The head on a spear. It was a "honor" the orcs offered only to their best opponents. But also a mockery. So, the king fought bravely. For what he alone cared, it was in vain, but at least he wasn't the one who had the duty to kill the king. That made everything easier for him. After pondering few moments on everything, as was his usual habit, he loosened the grip onto the princess' arm and stepped away. She wasn't going to run away, and even if she was, what good would be it? He could capture her in two steps. Instead, he started searching through the bodies, to find a tunic, a rag, a piece of armor, anything that the princess could change into so she would lose the royal looks.


Minding not the princess, and finding what he was looking for, a leather armor with hood, some trousers and boots, and while undressing the dead bodies and took them, he spoke, with the same stern voice. He shown no sign of compassion, even though, somewhere, buried deep within him lain something, but it was impossible to reach, even for the most skilled of emotional thieves.


"Your father... He was a great warrior. The orcs impale the heads of only the greatest opponents. Half in honor, half in mockery. If you wish, we could bury it. But we must leave soon"


As he spoke, he also looked for a proper blade. She had small hands, so no way she could carry a sword, but a dagger, that would most likely be easy to her. He knew what risks he exposed himself to, she could stab him in the back and be off, but he somehow felt she wouldn't. He wanted her to carry a blade because he knew he might not always be by her, and in case of something, she could somewhat defend herself until he intervened.


"You will change the gown for this leather armor, princess. I rather not have you back in pieces"

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana hesitated for a moment when he released her arm, waiting to see his next course of action before moving slowly towards what remained of her father's body. She stared at dark brows flecked with grey as she approached, unable to look into the eyes she knew so well. Had his death been quick? She doubted it. Her father had ensured she was well versed in the cultures of all the kingdoms in Valysia, including those of the orcs. She knew how they thrived off the misery and suffering of others. She stood in front of monstrosity that was the orc's makeshift monument, trying to prepare herself.


Ariana jumped when the man spoke to her once more, listening carefully to every word. She nodded to show her understanding when he finished his explanation, not trusting herself to speak. She did not see the honour in this, did not see how anyone could take pride from such sadistic actions. Slowly, she brought her trembling fingers up to touch her father's chilled cheek, tenderly brushing a drop of rain from the flesh. No, her father had raised her so much better than that. Finally, her eyes drifted to her father's still open pair. He had raised the princess in his image.


Ariana was grateful for the rain that began falling, breathing in the moisture to calm the pain in her throat. It also gave her the freedom to shed the tears that had been burning the backs of her eyes, waiting to be released, without fear of the warrior noticing her weakness. Perhaps it was a gift from her father, a final gift to her as way of saying goodbye. Ariana quietly began to speak the prayer aloud, stopping her thought process before it became her undoing. There would be time after she escaped her present circumstances to mourn.


Ariana spoke the words fluidly, the language she used no longer english, though she had never had purpose to use them before. While she had said 'prayer' to the warrior it was actually a blessing the people of Khorinys recited for their dead, usually during a ceremony that involved burning the corpse, that was believed to help the deceased find their way to the next life. It was their belief after death a soul had to journey a dark path to the land of the dead, their already deceased ancestors lighting one side of the path and the blessing recited during the death ceremony lighting the other side. Ariana spoke without faltering, imagining her father walking the well lit path to her mother on the other side.


When Ariana finished speaking she gently slid her father's eyes closed, bitterly aware they would remain that way forever. She pressed her forehead to her father's, feeling her tears slip from her cheeks to his, and vowed to him in Khorinys's ancient tongue to return one day. She would return and she would right every wrong that had transpired against Khorinys this night. It was her duty as his daughter, and as the current queen of the kingdom resting in ruins behind her. "I'll make you proud," She vowed quietly in the strange language, "I will be strong for you."


With the blessing complete and her vow ringing in her ears, Ariana slowly returned to stand in front of the warrior. She accepted the clothing from him, keeping her eyes straight ahead so they rested on his chest. She did not want to know who the clothing belonged to. "The people of Khorinys do not bury the dead." Ariana explained to the man, her voice barely audible. What was the point of explaining to him as if he would care, wasn't he the same as the orcs? His small acts of kindness were more than likely a tactic to keep her compliant until they reached their destination. She hadn't failed to notice him say have you back. Whatever he wanted with her, she was still trying to figure out what that whatever was exactly, would most likely kill her or lead to some equally horrendous fate.


A spark of angry flickered amongst the sorrow swirling like fog inside her, spreading into a raging flame large enough to consume her anguish, at least for the moment. Ariana brought her eyes up from the man's chest to stare into his eyes so far above her, the rage bringing with it a lack of concern for her own well being. She forced her voice to be stronger, almost sarcastic, than what it had been a moment before. "Am I to undress here? Or will that shrubbery be acceptable?"

 

[SilentMadness]

He listened to her prayer. It sounded so much like a chant. It echoed through his mind, stirred him. The old language of Khorinys was pure poetry and even he could say that about it, he, an uneducated man who's only mastery was warfare, blade and fist. He listened hypnotized, and discovered it was the first thing related to religion or divinities that he actually enjoyed.


It also stirred many memories within him, and he couldn't but get lost in them. Eyes stared blankly as he remembered.


The smokes rose high, so high and so dense that he couldn't make the sky out of anything. His eyes stung, his throat itched, stung, he felt suffocated. He was standing in the middle of a narrow street, and from the houses there was continuous smoke rising. Fire was everywhere and he saw a burning child, running away, desperate to escape the flames that were burning his skin. The child's screams penetrated his ears, but he couldn't shed one single tear. He was shocked. He only woke up in the middle of it. Cuirased men everywhere, stabbing mothers, their babies, fully grown men, young men, young boys... taking every girl they found in every way possible and cutting her open as they finished. It was all there before his eyes. And from all the chaos, a figure rose. Eyes stared into his, desperate, as blood was flowing down the motherly face. It was his mother. A blade came down through her head, from the back, and exitted through her mouth. He held something in his hand. Hair. His father's hair. Attached to his head. He turned around, and ran, ran desperate. Exitting the poor city he fled in the woods, holding onto his father's head as if it was his sole purpose.





"Sha'aith" He spoke, absently, quiet. It was the word in his native language for "father". But as soon as he did, he heard her speak, explaining how the Khorinys people did not bury their dead. He has heard the legends people of Khorinys believe. He thought about how childish is of people to believe that after they die they will still have something to do. The notion of beyond death was abstract to him. But what did he care? Soon enough, she was staring in his eyes, and he stared, cold, emotionless, stern, into hers. She tried her sarcasm with him, but it didn't reach beyond even his armor. His lips did not make the slightest move, only but when he spoke.


"For what i care, you can take those off here as well. I do not take pleasure in taking little girls"


Then he moved his hand, throwing a small pocket dagger at her feet, coldly, before passing by her to move away so she could have her change of clothes


"Take that dagger. You might need it. I give you one chance to stab me in the back and be off, but you won't do it. You won't be surviving the night alone"


He stepped in the mud and moved away, while the rain slowed down and came to a stop.

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana watched the man move away, considering his parting words. Did he not know she could tell he wouldn't harm her without him having to say so? The man appeared to know so little about her it was unlikely he was taking her somewhere for himself. That wasn't surprising, considering how well the man fought. It was possible he was a soldier, but his armour bared no sign of his allegiance, and even a soldier should have had some kind of briefing before being dispatched. That left only one possibility, the man was a hired hand. She had heard members of the royal guard speaking of mercenaries before, how they would accept any job for enough compensation. The memory gave Ariana an idea. If she could prove she could pay the man more than whoever had hired him, didn't that mean he would change his course of action? It was a possibility she would have to consider later, now she was taking too much time if she wanted to be changed before he returned.


Ariana frowned at the dagger at her feet, silently comparing it to the envelope opener she still had on her person. It would seem they would be travelling quite the distance then, if he thought she may be in need of a weapon. She crouched down to inspect the blade, turning it over in her hands to test its weight. She supposed it was his right not to be concerned if she were armed, the odds of her actually landing a blow against the warrior were laughable. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure the man was out of view, Ariana quickly changed into the clothing she had been given, leaving her former garments forgotten in the mud. Looking back once more to make sure he still wasn't in sight, Ariana quickly slid both the envelope opener and crystal she had smuggled out of the castle into her boot. The crystal jabbed into her ankle uncomfortably, but at least she was constantly aware of its presence.


After quickly making sure no odd lumps were showing through her boot, Ariana stood and turned her attention to her hair. She combed her fingers through the matted mess to the best of her abilities, her usually sunny blonde hair appearing brown through the thin layer of dirt coating the strands from her muddy hands, and quickly pulled the long tresses into a braid. Securing the hair into place, she turned to find the warrior as the rain stopped falling.

 

[SilentMadness]

While she did her change of clothes, he busied himself with sacking everything he could. And looking for a fit to ride horse. Finding none but the slaughtered ones in the stables outside the city walls. Filling his cantines with fresh ale, leftover from the orcs' feast, and taking every golden and silver coin he could find around, scattered through mud, on corpses, he then went across the very corpse of the last orc he'd battled. His green skin was now paler than ever. Ugly fellow. Battle scars all over.


Kneeling by the corpse, he took out his sword, and with a quick hit he decapitated it. Then, taking a spike, he moved to the city gates, and impaled the orc's head right next to the king's. He saw it fit and fair. It might have not been proper justice in the eyes of the princess, but in his eyes, it was. After carrying out the task he returned to the place the princess was left, and almost bumped into her. He threw a gaze upon her and couldn't believe what he saw.


Small as she was, the armor fit her perfectly. Even though even a kid would laugh if she'd be presented as a warrior, but at least she wasn't looking like a princess and wouldn't turn him into a moving sack of gold in the eyes of all the bounty hunters. After making acquaintance with her new looks, he didn't speak a word, just turned around and walked. He was a man of very few words so he did not even command her to follow, she knew what to do herself. Leading her towards the city gates, he walked her past the now two impaled heads, and out of the city, taking the main road towards the north. It was to be a long journey.

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana stumbled back a step when he almost walked into her, jumping to the side to get out of his path. Really now, she wasn't that short. The man had to be part troll to reach such heights. She waited while he looked her over, feeling the slightest trace of approval emanating from him despite his expression appearing as through it were carved out of stone. She hesitated a moment when he began to walk back the way he came, for the first time looking back at her ruined home. It would be a long time before she would return to this place, she was sure, and she wanted to etch the anger and hatred she felt towards the responsibly party into her heart so she would never forget, never falter until she had avenged her people. After a long moment, she turned and followed the warrior towards the city gates, no longer careful to avoid looking at the faces of the corpses. After seeing the state of her father's remains she doubted there was anything left that could hurt her as sharply.


As if summoned by her thoughts, they were once again approaching her father's remains. Ariana steeled her nerves in preparation of being so close to the display again, her eyes slowly raising to where she knew it to be. Her steps faltered to a stop at the sight of the new addition, for a moment unable to understand how it had gotten there. She peeled her unwilling eyes away from the orc leader's impaled head to look at the man leading her, shocked by his actions. Ariana could feel no emotional response from him as they neared the two heads, but there was no other possibility for how it could have gotten there. Ariana kept her eyes on the warrior as she began moving forward again, not for the first time wishing she could know a person's intentions behind their emotions.


"Thank you." Ariana finally murmured grimly, following him past both of the heads and out of the city. While it wasn't something she would have thought of herself to do, it seemed oddly just somehow. No act would ever be enough to repay the injustice of the orcs' actions, but the sight of the orc leader's head impaled along side her father's had filled her with a vindication she hadn't thought herself capable of. Ariana didn't recognize herself anymore, couldn't comprehend the changes that had occurred in her heart in such a short amount of time. As they travelled farther and farther away from the ruins of Khorinys she doubted it was the last change she would have to get used to.

 

[SilentMadness]

She thanked him. That is exactly what he heard. A word of gratitude from the one who he was leading to a fate only he knew. He knew he shouldn't feel anything towards the princess, he somehow felt a little bit of sympathy, for something was alike about both of them. But he didn't care. He only thought of the payment he was to receive for her. If he was to receive any. He was very mistrustful, for he knew the way world worked. Deceit, lies, betrayal. But at least he thought of making a profit out of it.


In reply to her words, he only nodded his head and muttered something in return, in his native tongue. He liked to use it when he was with no one he knew. He also was the last one who spoke that tongue. The last one who escaped. They were already at a considerable distance from Khorinys. The darkness was dissipating slowly, and with the minute, the new dawn approached. At a point, from the main road, many small roads started to go, along it but away from it. It would be wiser to take that path. Another orc raiding party could be already marching towards Khorinys, to give help to their fallen brothers. Orcs were known for their solidarity.


He led the princess down a small road. The woods were beautiful, and still asleep. Here and there, a wolf was howling, communicating with another wolf far in the distance. As he walked, he thought. He used to be alone and silent, but now, he had someone behind him. He dismissed the thoughts quickly and kept focusing on the road, knowing that at any given moment bandits could jump in their way. He turned his head from time to time to make sure the princess was still there.

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana had felt it. It had been fleeting, there one moment and gone the next, but she was sure it had been there. The warrior had felt pity for her. Usually Ariana would have hated to be thought down upon, but at the moment she saw the emotion for what it was, an opportunity. It made it more likely he would accept if she were ever able to offer him a change of allegiance. She kept her senses glued on the man, waiting to catch another glimmer of emotion as they traveled, but it never came.


Eventually after detecting no hint of change from the man Ariana turned her attention to their surroundings. She had been all throughout the forest surrounding Khorinys during her childhood, but almost never at night. The more distance they put between themselves and Khorinys the less she recognized. If it weren't for the occasional landmark Ariana would have completely lost her barings. She tried to keep track of the small paths they passed but by the time they turned onto one of the smaller trails Ariana couldn't be certain which one the warrior had chosen, only knowing for sure they were heading north by the position of the rising sun.


Ariana gave up on trying to track their exact position, deeming it unwise to attempt an escape for the time being, at least until they made it to a village anyway. He hadn't been wrong when he said she wouldn't have much hope of surviving the wooded area without him.


Instead, she reached her senses into the immediate area around them, feeling for the animals stirring from their slumber deep within the trees. Ariana was aware of the different creatures scurrying about, her attention catching on something ahead of them on the trail. She frowned and concentrated on the spot. She could detect impatience, irritation, and discontentment from whatever lurked ahead of them, all emotions she had felt in predators before, but something seemed off, as though there were more than one source.


Throwing a glance at the warrior ahead of her, Ariana stopped walking to concentrate. There! Contempt, definitely from more than one source. She had never encountered an animal capible of such an emotion. Ariana turned her attention back to the man continuing down the path, torn as to what she should do. If she warned him they would avoid the other people, given that he believed her, but then she would miss the chance they might help her. What could they do against the warrior anyway? A fight almost undoubtedly end in the warrior's favour. Even if she had time to run he would catch her eventually. Who was to even say the people up ahead would be willing to help her, or that she would be better off with them?


"Wait," She blurted out before she could change her mind, standing still in the center of the trail. She avoided his eyes as she spoke, still uncertain whether she was making the right decision. "There are people up ahead." She did not explain how she knew.

 

[SilentMadness]

His silence has been disturbed by the soft voice. She commanded him to wait, and then spoke of people. How could she possibly know that? There was no sign of fire and no noise whatsoever. Then he again thought about that special ability she had. Could she... sense people? It was too hard for him to understand, so, dismissing the thinking, he drew one of his swords, with a metallic sound as he did. Turning towards her, he motioned for her to follow, quietly, and started to walk, half crouched, not making any sounds. Big as he was, he was also an expert on stealth, and he could pass by anyone whenever, unnoticed. At a point, he started hearing a man. He sang. Sang a song about the last Dragon Revolt, an old song which he as a child knew.


What could those ahead be? Thieves? More than sure. Bandits? More than sure. Barbarians? They could, but barbarians usually didn't speak the common tongue. Making sure the princess was still following, he approached, while the singing also drew close, so close that it was as if someone sang in his ear. Only a bush separated them from the stranger men. Two of them. Leaving the crouching, the sellsword stood, with his weapon drawn, and stepped close to the man, staring at both of them from time to time and grunting.


"What are you and who do you work for?"


The men looked scared. More than it, terrified. They looked at the giant man and at the petite female just behind him, and barely uttered.


"We... we're b-bards. We work for no one. We travel from here to there and sing for whoever pays"


The men were terrified, even though they carrried short swords. Probably just to scare off bandits. One of them was old, and one was young. One played an instrument, the other one his voice. The sellsword asked further.


"Where were you headed?"


The men looked at each other, at the sellsword, then at the girl behind him. Something sparked in their eyes. Perhaps they recognized her. The sellsword already focused his attention more on them.


"Khorin..."


"Khorinys is dead. So are her people" The warrior replied, quickly, as they stared at him, wide-eyed once more.

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana felt her heart drop. Bards. Simple nomads that were more than likely headed to Khorinys for the changing seasons and the festivals that came with it. She could feel the surprise they felt quickly shift to fear, progressing to horror in an instance. Guilt tormented her, watching the warrior tower over the song folk while he questioned the pair. How could she have been so foolish to actually think the warrior would avoid a confrontation, she should have witnessed enough of his actions by now to know he did not shy away from a fight. Ariana might as well have killed them herself.


She could sense the fear radiating from them in waves. The assault of emotion was flooding Ariana's senses, making her feel nauseous and dim witted. She could barely detect the warrior's suspicion through the bards' terror, the warrior's emotions so well contained and the bards' seemly so out of control. She tried to focus past the pair to the warrior, desperate to have some inkling as to what he was thinking, but every time Ariana thought she picked something up from the man it was smothered by the distress of the song folk.


Ariana looked from the warrior interrogating the bards to the trees surrounding them. She knew if she ran he would follow her, knew he would catch her again and likely be less lenient with her, but perhaps it would buy the pitiful pair at the warrior's feet time to escape. More likely though, he would kill them before they even knew what was happening and still catch her before she got back to the main path. She looked back to the bards, trying to estimate their chances of survival. The odds were definitely not in their favour. The crystal in her boot jabbed into her ankle when she shifted, as though reminding her she had at least one trick up her, well, boot. Grimly, Ariana set her sights on the warrior. It most likely wouldn't be very effective, but hopefully it would be enough for the innocent travellers to put some distance between themselves and the man. It was the least she could do, considering it was her fault they were in their current situation. The crystal resting against her flesh began to warm as she took a deep breath, focusing her intentions.


A chill ran the length of Ariana's spine, causing her to look around for the source. There it was again! Contempt, she was sure of it, and - greed? She focused on the bards, caught off guard by the unexpected emotions. It couldn't be them, their fear too pure to house the other emotions. Ariana barely considered the warrior as the source, confident after hours of observing his emotions that he wasn't capable of feeling that much. Subtly, her gaze shifted back to the trees. Unless the beasts of Khorinys's forests had somehow developed emotional complexity since her last outing, there was only one possibility left. Ariana attempted to identify how many could potentially be lurking just out of sight, but the fear radiating from the bards was too strong to single out anything else. If it wasn't for the flashes of anticipation and the likes penetrating the fear to reach her senses she would have thought she were imagining things, the forest seemed so at peace.


She barely noticed herself flinch at the warrior's harsh words regarding her homeland, moving her attention to the elder of the two bards. Carefully scrutinizing his emotional response, Ariana spoke loud enough for the occupants of the clearing to hear her. "How many men are in the trees?"

 

[SilentMadness]

She spoke. Again. And she asked about men in trees. How could she even know that there was anyone aside the bards, and themselves? But then again, he sniffed the air. Reek. Something was off about it. The bards were more terrified than anyone he'd faced before. He watched the older one fall to his kness and try to approach the princess, but he placed his sword inbetween them. The old man looked desperate into the girl's eyes and sweating, he managed to stutter words


"P-please m'lady... make 'im stop... they'll... they'll kill us all"


They? Who actually were they? The sword rose to meet the bard's chin, and the tip pushed against the flesh, making him yelp in pain. The sellsword looked down upon him, into his eyes, and threatening to push the sword further, while the younger bard watched and curled against a rock, he demanded explanation.


"They? Who are they?"


The bard tried to stutter further words but he couldn't. He continued shaking, gasping for air and begging for any help to come from the princess. Before he could manage to explain what he meant, the trees started to stirr, and the sound of chainmail struck his ears. The bards both looked wide eyed towards the spot where the sound has come from. The nameless mercenary turned around, to see who was behind him. Eventually, he took his sword away from the bard and drew his second one. The other male was tall as well, but not as tall as the sellsword. His face was covered with battle scars. Green eyes looked to the mysterious mercenary and to the princess. He took a step forth, and spoke, his voice was the very proof that he was a first hand drunkard and also an outlaw.


"Well damn me, if it isn't the big guy feared in all four kingdoms. It's been long since i've last seen you. And who is your little friend there? Me an' the guys haven't had a wench in long, but it seems you have solved all our problems. You will share her, right? We could take her for a spin togeth..."


The mercenary didn't move a finger and didn't even breath harder listening to the man speaking, but on the inside, he felt that deep despise. His hands clutched harder on the swords, and he took a step forward, looking the stranger into the eyes, and growled ever so low.


"No... if you touch her, you will never wish your fate upon others"


"Did you hear him boys?" The stranger looked up into the trees. "He defends the little wench. Tell me, Vill'Kern The Slayer... or what should i call you? Did you grow soft because of this little piece of fresh meat? Are you afraid we're going to make her more holes?"


At the statements of the stranger male, the people in the trees bursted out laughing, mockingly. But their laughter was cut short by gasps. Before anyone could make a move, a blade went through the stranger's chin, through his mouth, brain and out of his skull. Vill'Kern stood, emotionless, holding the blade into his enemy's skull, lifting him off his feet, staring into the now dead eyes. Abruptly, he withdrew his sword, which was now stained with blood and brain matter, and let the corpse fall at his feet, before looking up into the trees, and speaking out, for everyone.


"Now, does anyone else wish to say a word?"

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana cursed herself for being so foolish. She had not even considered the possibility of someone else being the cause of the bards' terror, too blinded by the raw force of their fear to truly consider the origin. She hated this flaw in her ability, questioning not for the first time the good of being able to know a person's feelings if she couldn't be certain what was at the root of the emotion. In situations like this, not that she had ever managed to find herself in this much trouble before, it seemed to cause more trouble than it solved.


Ariana concentrated on the forest, trying to block out the old man physically and emotionally, looking into the trees as if it could help her distinguish the fleeting glimpses of emotions she caught from the constant torrent of fear still coming from the bards. She hadn't been looking long when a figure emerged from the woods, leaving branches snapped in half in his wake. She wrinkled her nose in distaste as he came to a stop, the immediate area reeking of stale ale. Ariana wondered how they could not have heard someone so large moving through the forest, especially someone so large that rattled with each step. By the amount of scars plastering the man's face she assumed he was the leader of the bandits. She froze when the new arrival's gaze suddenly fell on her, shuddering at the pressure of an unknown number of unseen eyes following suit.


Ariana had never heard such vulgar language before. She shuddered not only from the words but the emotions that came with them, slowly backing up to stand closer to the warrior. At least she understood his intentions, even if he was leading her to her doom. She had no name for the emotions she detected from not only the bandit's leader but from all throughout the trees, having never encountered such disturbing auras before. Judging from the context of the bandit's sickening ramblings she never wanted to encounter the unidentifiable emotions again. Ariana stayed as close as she dared to the warrior, taking comfort in his hatred of the bandit and his quickly dismissed requests.


She gasped sharply when the warrior's name was uttered mockingly by the bandit's leader, turning to look at the man with a mixture shock, awe, and no small amount of fear. Tales of Vill'Kern The Slayer had reached even Khorinys's walls, stories of his conquests and the trail of destruction left in his wake told to both awe and frighten avid listeners. Ariana used to listen to the royal guard swap rumours and gossip about the legendary man, the group of men never seemingly satisfied with their description of his abilities. With every retelling the man's feats grew greater and greater, his misdeeds more and more destructive. If she hadn't seen him fighting Ariana wouldn't have believed it possible for the legend to exist, let alone to be standing between her and the bandit leader.


Ariana barely had time to flinch from the laughter surrounding them before it was silenced, replaced with shock and timidity. The warrior's broad shoulders blocked the bandit leader from her view, but by the reaction of the hidden bandits Ariana felt it safe to assume whatever course of action he had taken lived up to his reputation as 'The Slayer'. Slowly she peeked around the area, trying not to draw attention to herself again, until her eyes fell on the long forgotten bards. She stared at them in surprise for a long moment, startled they were still there, before motioning for them to run.

 

[SilentMadness]

Silence. That was it all. Silence, mixed with the bards' still remaining terror. They gasped and trembled as if they faced the worst of horrors.Indeed, they did face such. A man. Alone. Standing against a considerable number of bandits. The odds wouldn't have been in his favor, but if his reputation was true, it shouldn't have been any problem for him at all to finish them off quickly. He continued looking up into the trees, breathing as he did when faced with possible enemies, hard, rough.


He was known for his cruelty, and his taste for bloodshed. He had no mercy upon his enemies, and sometimes, he let many bow down to him, humiliate themselves to the fullest, in hopes that they might escape his sword, only to kill them slow enough, mock their very last seconds of life. But sometimes, he was merciful enough, just as he was mere seconds ago to end the bandit ringleader's life quickly by stabbing through his head.


The bards looked towards the princess, and as she motioned for them to run, they stood, and ran, with horrified gasps. For a second, Vill'Kern turned his head, startled that the princess might be in danger. From a tree, an archer took the advantage of his lack of attention, and an arrow pierced through the air. It wasn't until Vill'Kern saw it, then he realized he has been hit in the shoulder. The archer spotted a good place for the arrow to stick, a gap between his shoulder plate and the rest of the armor. The sharp arrow tip stuck in his flesh now, he grunted ever so low, then looked towards the tree where it came from.


Still looking up, he freed one hand of the blade by sheathing it, then, slowly, he grabbed the arrow in his shoulder, and pulled it out. The archer that tried his luck was looking horrified as the mountain of a mercenary didn't even flinch as he took out the arrow, and thrown it into the dirt.


Vill'Kern felt a sort of pain in his shoulder, but it was nothing of big bother. As at a sign, the bandits all jumped from the trees and attacked all together, thinking that by outnumbering and swarming they could take the one known as The Slayer. He did not manage to unsheath his other sword, and spun around with only one sword, avoiding their maces and short swords and maiming them, one by one.


As big as he was, he surely did have grace when he wanted to. He seemed to step on thin air while his sword rotated and cut through air and flesh. A pierce through the guts, another through the neck, he killed them off one by one, or at least let them fall and bleed to death. He felt a strike against his back, powerful enough to slightly deform the steel armor he wore, but not enough to pierce through. With a swift pirouette, he decapitated the one who struck him from a single blow, as the force with which he hit was at least three times bigger than the bandits' .


And there was only one left. A young and scared boy, with a shield and a poor wood chopping axe. Vill'Kern approached him, while the boy started begging for mercy, defending himself with the shield, which was made of wood. He backed away as much as he could, but the huge mercenary was towering over him like a tree. Grabbing the boy's axe with a hand, he pulled it away from him, making him fall. His only guard was the shield.


The Slayer started striking the shield, each blow with increased force as the boy cried his beggings out loud, definitely terrorized by the idea of iminent death. Finally, after several strikes, the shield blown to splinters, the boy was uncovered and looked up to the sellsword, with tears in his eyes. He begged desperate, as Vill'Kern watched and let him humiliate himself. As he had enough of the cries, he finally grunted, with a stern voice.


"No more"


The boy's head quickly left his body, as the merciless sellsword struck his neck with the sword. The corpse was now laying in a pool of blood, still convulsing slightly, while the head rolled with eyes open in terror. But Vill'Kern remained standing, emotionless and stone-like.

 

[Cinnamon]

Ariana knelt behind the wide trunk of a tree, staring with no small amount of astonishment at the warrior surrounded by the bandits. She couldn't see him clearly through the tangle of limbs and weapons encircling him, but by the way her view was becoming less and less obscured led her to believe he wasn't having any difficulty dealing with the situation. The bandits seemed to be coming to the same conclusion, their aggression and vehemence giving way to disbelief and panic. Ariana ducked farther behind the tree, unable to keep watching the death and mutilation left in the wake of the very one sided battle. When the begging began she couldn't take anymore.


She ran.


Ariana sprinted away from the fighting as fast as her legs could carry her, running as if the hounds of Hell were hot on her heels. No, she thought grimly, a bone chilling scream reaching her ears the same moment a sharp increase of consternation hit her senses. No, she was being sought after by something so much worse. A truth she was sure the bandits were finding out first hand themselves, quite clearly the hard way. Nothing less was to be expected from The Slayer. As if in response to the name, a howl of pain echoed through the trees above the rest of the clashing, silenced not a moment later. The lack of noise sounded louder to the princess's ears than the howl had in the first place.


Ariana ran until she could no longer hear metal against metal, men crying out in agony, or begging for their lives. She could still feel their miasma of emotions drifting back to her as if carried by the wind, even as she wished she couldn't, but it seemed to be diluted by the distance. The princess could now distinguish her own emotions from those reaching her from others, not much of an improvement but a small one nonetheless. At least now she could think without the bandits' discomposure clouding her thoughts. With some of the stress removed from her senses, Ariana looked at her surroundings for the first time since she had started running. She was on the same trail the warrior had been leading her down before they had encountered the bards, recognizable by the three leafed weeds lining either side of the path. The princess stared into the trees, imagining herself disappearing amongst the foliage.


With at least half a day's hike to the nearest village Ariana would never get there before the warrior caught up with her. Her legs were already wary from travelling so far and she couldn't remember the last time she ate or slept. Even if the princess did manage to make it to the village before him by some miracle, she still had no idea who the warrior worked for, or what his employer wanted from her. If their prize was worth the desolation of Khorinys Ariana was clearly missing several pieces to this metaphorical puzzle. The princess needed to know who hired the warrior and to what end before she could escape and seek aid. With her luck as of late, she would run straight to the kingdom that had hired the mercenary. For surely if the man was indeed who the bandit leader said he was, only a king would be able to pay his high fees.


That was also a contributing factor in her decision to flee, though Ariana hated to admit it even to herself. She didn't want anger The Vill'kern The Slayer, if that was indeed the warrior's true identity. It would explain how he alone had survived the battle at Khorinys, beheaded the orc leader, and defeated the bandit leader with a single strike. Ariana glanced down at the weapon he had given her perched on her waist, frowning. It also explained his complete lack of concern of transporting an armed hostage. No matter what the mercenary called himself, Ariana was in a lot more trouble than she had originally thought.


The fear Ariana had grown accustomed to feeling vanished abruptly, leaving a very obvious void in her senses. She remained where she was for a long moment, staring blindingly into the trees, making certain that her senses hadn't simply stopped functioning. Slowly, the princess turned back to face the direction she had come from, both concentrating her senses and using her eyes for some sign of Vill'Kern The Slayer. Ariana shuddered. It was too odd to even think the warrior's name. She shook herself mentally, standing still as she waited for his eminent arrival. The princess would have to be more careful around the legendary mercenary if she didn't want to share the same fate as the bandits.

 

[SilentMadness]

She ran. While he was busy tormenting the poor young bandit lad, and killing him, in the end, she ran, went out of his sight. He looked around, then saw footprints, in the slight mud. They couldn't be someone else's. He followed them. Within himsef he hoped that she did not run too far, running was his less favorite activity, but he would do it if he had to, she was worth a big price. While walking, he thought deeply if it was really worth. He seriously didn't wish the fate she was going to face.


She was innocent, she didn't do anything wrong, while he, more likely he deserved such fate. Was his conscience really showing up? He'd been slaughtering left and right for as long as he'd remember and never did he feel such uncertainity. What was she doing to him? Was she using magic on him? He met some magic workers in his adventures, but none of them managed to put anything inside him, while she...


His train of thoughts was broken, when he found himself before her, staring at her. She awaited him. He could not believe his eyes, but she did await him. What prisoner would ever await for his captor? She surely was on with something. Staring cold into her eyes he spoke, with a low voice.


"And i suppose you believe it was smart of you to do this"


He then shook his head and continued


"You let the bards go. Those bastards can't keep a mouth shut forever, as soon as they reach the first village, they'll tell everyone what they saw. Do you even realize what you've put us in?"


He grunted low. Even though he didn't let her see, the wound from the arrow was deep and bled. But he didn't mind it, he only grabbed her arm and pulled her after him, just like he did a while back

 

[Cinnamon]

Vill'kern The Slayer was glaring at her. Ariana stared wide eyed back at the mercenary, the logic behind her decision to wait for the warrior conveniently abandoning her mind. He looked mad. Then again, had he ever looked pleased? Perhaps once, when he was driving his sword through the bandit leader's skull. She flinched at his quiet tone as if he had threatened her with bodily harm, the thinly veiled anger in his soft speech worse than if he had shrieked at her. It was possible the still fresh blood marring his armour had something to do with her sudden inability to form words.


Ariana stumbled after the warrior when he tugged her along, frowning at his back in annoyance. He spoke as if this entire situation was her fault, as if she were some child he was forced to watch over. She longed to correct him, to remind him with a few choice words who had invaded whose home, dragging her away from the remains of her kin without even time to mourn. Were she being led along by anyone other than The Slayer, the princess would have been all too happy to inform him how much joy sparing the bards' lives had brought her.


Ariana watched the still wet blood of the mercenary's enemies glisten on his armour, catching in the early morning light filtering through the trees. If it had been anybody else she wouldn't have been able to assist the bards at all. No other man would have been able to defeat such a vast number of bandits alone. Had anyone else been tasked with bringing her to whatever fate may be awaiting her, they both would have been killed by now. Or worse, she thought with a shudder of the bandits' valgur words. The princess followed a trickle of blood dripping down the mercenary's arm. No other man in all four kingdoms would have escaped, let alone victorious without a single injury as proof of-


"You're bleeding," Ariana informed the man thoughtlessly, shocked the legendary warrior's skin had the potential to be torn. She felt as though she had suddenly been faced with a unicorn; while she knew it was possible to exist, to actually be faced with the sight left her with an almost otherworldly atmosphere.


"You're bleeding!" Ariana repeated louder, as though she thought he might not believe her. Did he know he could be injured? She had never heard tale of him shedding blood in any of the legends told about him. On instinct the princess caught hold of the arm dragging her forward, trying to hold it still to better inspect the wound. "We have to wrap it before it gets infected."

 

[SilentMadness]

He couldn't think of anything else but the bards. He thought about the way they went, and the first village they'll encounter. Troops were probably already after him. But he had to march forward. He had to take her to his emplyer, get his reward and be off to his things. But then again, was it really worth ruining such a young and beautiful being on the mad plans of the one who employed him? Reaching back to the place of the slaughter just minutes before, he heard her speak.


He felt slight pain in his shoulder but it was nothing for him, yet she insisted that they stopped so she could check out his wound. Again, she did something that no one's done before for him. Others would've just took advantage of the oportunity and strike him in the wounded arm or shoulder. But she wanted to heal him? Was she crazy?


He came to a stop, and turned around to look at her. Removing his hand off her arm, he looked her in the eyes for a moment before he found a big stone, and sat on it. Slowly he started removing the straps that held together his pieces of armor, so he could leave her a good space to work on his shoulder, while he remained silent.