The hours passed slowly as Lancecain lingered outside the walls of Victory.
Though young, Lancecain was a full-fledged knight. That meant he technicality had the same authority as the man that told him to stay away from the fort and could have ignored the informal order. However, there was an unspoken hierarchy based on seniority in the north. Besides that, he understood being told to stay put. More bodies usually equated to more chaos. An emergency wasn’t the time for power games or selfishness.
Besides, the civilians still needed him. In the midst of the crisis, they were understanding but the danger had passed. They were eager to check on their homes and loved ones. Failing that, they were reluctant to spend another night cramped and cowering in fear.
Technically, Lancecain didn’t have power over them but again, there were unspoken rules regarding the authority of knights, especially in emergencies. He was also the one who led them to safety. They would listen to him and he knew that it was better for everyone if he kept them out of the fort. Hundreds of bodies swarming the battlefield during a cleanup wouldn’t do anyone any favors, no matter the people’s good intentions.
The duke had left them in his care. They were his responsibility and Lancecain didn’t intend to shirk it.
It took a considerable amount of reasoning and cajoling to get the irritable civilians to stay put. He knew he’d have no hope of controlling anything if they saw their home in ruins. Thankfully, they had some patience to spare. They were worried about their lives and livelihood but they understood that their presence would be a burden. That didn’t mean they liked the situation.
Since idle hands made trouble, he scrambled to find them things to do. For the mothers and children, he organized impromptu lessons. Specifically, stories about the Lords of the Peaks and legends surrounding them. He doubted little else would hold their attentions with the majesty of the powerful manabeast fresh in their impressionable minds.
The adults, comprised mainly of servants, he turned to preparing for the night. He didn’t want another mad scramble to get everyone comfortable. With dozens of hands helping, other rooms could be cleaned out and prepared to provide a little comfort.
For those too hot-headed to do menial tasks, he had his peers arrange training exercises. Most northerners’ first reaction to problems was a swinging sword at it. Familiar actions put them at ease and bled off their energy before the rampant emotions could get them in trouble. It also gave the young knights, a little despondent after having been banned from the battle, something to occupy their minds.
The seniors were the easiest as they handled themselves. They found comfortable chairs and small projects without any direction. Lancecain only spent a few minutes asking if they needed anything, to which he was promptly waved off.
He was granted a miracle for the second day in the row as he successfully juggled the people until sunset. He didn’t like his chances trying to do it a second time. They understandably wanted to know if their family members had lived or died and a day was long enough for those in charge to have drawn up a preliminary casualty report. Even the seniors, who have given him no problems, sent a representative to politely but firmly tell him that they would be going to the gate tomorrow and the only way he could stop them was by cutting them down. Lancecain had nodded solemnly. He had done what he could but he was no lord. A part of him was also relieved for the excuse to check on the situation himself.
Another nightwatch was put together, both to appease the restless young knights and reassure the more fearful civilians. Lancecain signed up to stave off another night of fitful rest. His body was tired but his mind continued to race despite his best efforts to calm it.
By the end of his shift, sleep still felt distant so he went for a walk.
He wandered with no destination, thinking of anything and everything. When he came out of his thoughts, he found himself on the main road, heading for the walls. “Those of the north seek Victory always,” he said to himself with a chuckle. As he started back the way he’d come, something caught his attention. He couldn’t say what it was. A quick scan of his surroundings revealed nothing but instincts honed after years of life and death battles had his hair standing on end. A hand went to the hilt of the sword on his waist as he scanned the darkness a second time.
He wouldn’t have found anything if the enemies didn’t make a move. One moment, he was surrounded by quiet shadows. The next, several figures were stepping forward. A quick glance confirmed that they already had him surrounded, their steps not making the slightest sound.
His eyes began to glow as he drew his sword. People with good intentions didn’t surround others on empty roads. Besides, Victory had no allies. Strangers were almost guaranteed to be enemies and they were obviously strangers. Suspicious ones that hid their faces and bodies with large cloaks with comically large hoods. He’d been taught to strike first and ask questions later. Sometimes, never.
“Wait, human.”
Few things could have stayed his hand at that moment. One of his ambushers dropping their large hood to reveal an estrazi was one of them. Or at least, he thought it was an estrazi. They were very different from the bipedal lizards Alana had brought back as prisoners.
Rather than a long, scaled snout, their face was flat with recognizable features. A browridge, the smallest hump to suggest a nose, and pale, thin lips. He couldn’t decide if the face suggested male or female but it was undisputably attractive, regardless of the alienness of it. However, the being was human enough he might not have connected them with the estrazi if not for their blue skin, reptilian eyes, and the small scales along the sides of their face.
“If you want to talk, surrender. Remove your cloaks and lie face down, limbs spread.” The strange circumstances warranted questions but only after he had secured his safety.
The strange estrazi ignored him. “You are little leader. You will know where my human is.”
“Your human? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Inwardly, Lancecain cursed. That could only be referring to one person. The estrazi had come in search of Khan. An action that suggested that he was far more to them, or at least this estrazi in particular, than a convenient source of information. Lancecain had been sure there was more to the situation than the duke had let on and had never been more unhappy to be right.
It was the worst possible timing. The strongest knights were in the fort, recovering from a major battle, and he was several minutes from his, or any other, order. Even if he managed to signal for help, it would take a small eternity in the world of combat for anyone to arrive. He hoped that the story of Khan’s betrayal being motivated by mental interference wasn’t a lie because if the man’s intentional actions had led to Lancecain’s predicament, they would have words, regardless of his last name.
He also hoped that he hadn’t come face-to-face with the one responsible for that interference. Blades and claws, he felt comfortable fending off, but invasive magic like the mental affinity was beyond his expertise. He wanted to drag out the conversation, give someone a chance to notice something was wrong, but the thought of invisible strands of magic infecting his mind with each passing moment rapidly wore down his patience.
“I saw you lead other humans and you wield light. You must be valued. You will know important things.”
“You don’t know humans very well. Half the fort has the light affinity and the only reason I was leading others is because the real leaders were busy. I’m nothing special at all.”
“Liar. My human told me how rare light is.” The strange estrazi’s eyes narrowed. “You refuse to cooperate.”
The cloaked figures took a menacing step forward, preparing to attack. Lancecain confirmed his lack of options and shrugged helplessly. “Afraid so.”
His eyes glowed as he cast a spell. One of the first his master had taught him. A bright ball of light meant to fly high into the air and explode with brilliance. A signal to let the knight know if his, at the time, young and inexperienced heir ran into trouble. Given the tall walls of the fort, he had to triple the mana behind the distance variable for any hope that the knights within the walls would notice. They wouldn’t recognize it for the distress signal it was but after the recent battle, the tense warriors would be quick to investigate any strange circumstances.
It was a lot of mana for a “useless” spell but Lancecain was a man of caution. Creatures that had sneaked past Victory couldn’t be simple and he had no way to evaluate the strength of his opponents. Worse, his skillset as a duelist didn’t fare well against multiple opponents. He decided to prioritize calling for reinforcements rather than rely on his own abilities.
Whether it was the best decision remained to be seen but he undoubtedly suffered for it. He’d thrown ninety mana into his spell to ensure it would be seen. Nearly a third of his total coefficient. A respectable number for his age but when it came to mana and gold, one could never have enough. Whatever amount of time he could have held off his attackers had just been halved without doing a thing to injure them.
As the spell exploded in a brilliant display of golden light above them, the hooded figures rushed him, the strange estrazi looking on. Six attackers coming from every direction.
Burning light coated his sword as he turned and dashed toward the enemy directly behind him. He was counting on reinforcements but that didn’t mean he would remain idle while under attack. His odds of making it out alive improved significantly if he managed to break out of the encirclement. Things didn’t look good but he was a knight of Victory. Unfavorable odds only served to get his heart pumping.
The hours passed slowly as Lancecain lingered outside the walls of Victory.
Though young, Lancecain was a full-fledged knight. That meant he technicality had the same authority as the man that told him to stay away from the fort and could have ignored the informal order. However, there was an unspoken hierarchy based on seniority in the north. Besides that, he understood being told to stay put. More bodies usually equated to more chaos. An emergency wasn’t the time for power games or selfishness.
Besides, the civilians still needed him. In the midst of the crisis, they were understanding but the danger had passed. They were eager to check on their homes and loved ones. Failing that, they were reluctant to spend another night cramped and cowering in fear.
Technically, Lancecain didn’t have power over them but again, there were unspoken rules regarding the authority of knights, especially in emergencies. He was also the one who led them to safety. They would listen to him and he knew that it was better for everyone if he kept them out of the fort. Hundreds of bodies swarming the battlefield during a cleanup wouldn’t do anyone any favors, no matter the people’s good intentions.
The duke had left them in his care. They were his responsibility and Lancecain didn’t intend to shirk it.
It took a considerable amount of reasoning and cajoling to get the irritable civilians to stay put. He knew he’d have no hope of controlling anything if they saw their home in ruins. Thankfully, they had some patience to spare. They were worried about their lives and livelihood but they understood that their presence would be a burden. That didn’t mean they liked the situation.
Since idle hands made trouble, he scrambled to find them things to do. For the mothers and children, he organized impromptu lessons. Specifically, stories about the Lords of the Peaks and legends surrounding them. He doubted little else would hold their attentions with the majesty of the powerful manabeast fresh in their impressionable minds.
The adults, comprised mainly of servants, he turned to preparing for the night. He didn’t want another mad scramble to get everyone comfortable. With dozens of hands helping, other rooms could be cleaned out and prepared to provide a little comfort.
For those too hot-headed to do menial tasks, he had his peers arrange training exercises. Most northerners’ first reaction to problems was a swinging sword at it. Familiar actions put them at ease and bled off their energy before the rampant emotions could get them in trouble. It also gave the young knights, a little despondent after having been banned from the battle, something to occupy their minds.
The seniors were the easiest as they handled themselves. They found comfortable chairs and small projects without any direction. Lancecain only spent a few minutes asking if they needed anything, to which he was promptly waved off.
He was granted a miracle for the second day in the row as he successfully juggled the people until sunset. He didn’t like his chances trying to do it a second time. They understandably wanted to know if their family members had lived or died and a day was long enough for those in charge to have drawn up a preliminary casualty report. Even the seniors, who have given him no problems, sent a representative to politely but firmly tell him that they would be going to the gate tomorrow and the only way he could stop them was by cutting them down. Lancecain had nodded solemnly. He had done what he could but he was no lord. A part of him was also relieved for the excuse to check on the situation himself.
Another nightwatch was put together, both to appease the restless young knights and reassure the more fearful civilians. Lancecain signed up to stave off another night of fitful rest. His body was tired but his mind continued to race despite his best efforts to calm it.
By the end of his shift, sleep still felt distant so he went for a walk.
He wandered with no destination, thinking of anything and everything. When he came out of his thoughts, he found himself on the main road, heading for the walls. “Those of the north seek Victory always,” he said to himself with a chuckle. As he started back the way he’d come, something caught his attention. He couldn’t say what it was. A quick scan of his surroundings revealed nothing but instincts honed after years of life and death battles had his hair standing on end. A hand went to the hilt of the sword on his waist as he scanned the darkness a second time.
He wouldn’t have found anything if the enemies didn’t make a move. One moment, he was surrounded by quiet shadows. The next, several figures were stepping forward. A quick glance confirmed that they already had him surrounded, their steps not making the slightest sound.
His eyes began to glow as he drew his sword. People with good intentions didn’t surround others on empty roads. Besides, Victory had no allies. Strangers were almost guaranteed to be enemies and they were obviously strangers. Suspicious ones that hid their faces and bodies with large cloaks with comically large hoods. He’d been taught to strike first and ask questions later. Sometimes, never.
“Wait, human.”
Few things could have stayed his hand at that moment. One of his ambushers dropping their large hood to reveal an estrazi was one of them. Or at least, he thought it was an estrazi. They were very different from the bipedal lizards Alana had brought back as prisoners.
Rather than a long, scaled snout, their face was flat with recognizable features. A browridge, the smallest hump to suggest a nose, and pale, thin lips. He couldn’t decide if the face suggested male or female but it was undisputably attractive, regardless of the alienness of it. However, the being was human enough he might not have connected them with the estrazi if not for their blue skin, reptilian eyes, and the small scales along the sides of their face.
“If you want to talk, surrender. Remove your cloaks and lie face down, limbs spread.” The strange circumstances warranted questions but only after he had secured his safety.
The strange estrazi ignored him. “You are little leader. You will know where my human is.”
“Your human? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Inwardly, Lancecain cursed. That could only be referring to one person. The estrazi had come in search of Khan. An action that suggested that he was far more to them, or at least this estrazi in particular, than a convenient source of information. Lancecain had been sure there was more to the situation than the duke had let on and had never been more unhappy to be right.
It was the worst possible timing. The strongest knights were in the fort, recovering from a major battle, and he was several minutes from his, or any other, order. Even if he managed to signal for help, it would take a small eternity in the world of combat for anyone to arrive. He hoped that the story of Khan’s betrayal being motivated by mental interference wasn’t a lie because if the man’s intentional actions had led to Lancecain’s predicament, they would have words, regardless of his last name.
He also hoped that he hadn’t come face-to-face with the one responsible for that interference. Blades and claws, he felt comfortable fending off, but invasive magic like the mental affinity was beyond his expertise. He wanted to drag out the conversation, give someone a chance to notice something was wrong, but the thought of invisible strands of magic infecting his mind with each passing moment rapidly wore down his patience.
“I saw you lead other humans and you wield light. You must be valued. You will know important things.”
“You don’t know humans very well. Half the fort has the light affinity and the only reason I was leading others is because the real leaders were busy. I’m nothing special at all.”
“Liar. My human told me how rare light is.” The strange estrazi’s eyes narrowed. “You refuse to cooperate.”
The cloaked figures took a menacing step forward, preparing to attack. Lancecain confirmed his lack of options and shrugged helplessly. “Afraid so.”
His eyes glowed as he cast a spell. One of the first his master had taught him. A bright ball of light meant to fly high into the air and explode with brilliance. A signal to let the knight know if his, at the time, young and inexperienced heir ran into trouble. Given the tall walls of the fort, he had to triple the mana behind the distance variable for any hope that the knights within the walls would notice. They wouldn’t recognize it for the distress signal it was but after the recent battle, the tense warriors would be quick to investigate any strange circumstances.
It was a lot of mana for a “useless” spell but Lancecain was a man of caution. Creatures that had sneaked past Victory couldn’t be simple and he had no way to evaluate the strength of his opponents. Worse, his skillset as a duelist didn’t fare well against multiple opponents. He decided to prioritize calling for reinforcements rather than rely on his own abilities.
Whether it was the best decision remained to be seen but he undoubtedly suffered for it. He’d thrown ninety mana into his spell to ensure it would be seen. Nearly a third of his total coefficient. A respectable number for his age but when it came to mana and gold, one could never have enough. Whatever amount of time he could have held off his attackers had just been halved without doing a thing to injure them.
As the spell exploded in a brilliant display of golden light above them, the hooded figures rushed him, the strange estrazi looking on. Six attackers coming from every direction.
Burning light coated his sword as he turned and dashed toward the enemy directly behind him. He was counting on reinforcements but that didn’t mean he would remain idle while under attack. His odds of making it out alive improved significantly if he managed to break out of the encirclement. Things didn’t look good but he was a knight of Victory. Unfavorable odds only served to get his heart pumping.
