Reeva was sat by a silent Arcos, who was still unconscious. She massaged the cuts on her arms and legs and prodded the bruise on her cheek from the attacks that that bastard Steer gave her. She smirked at the memory of Barnabas breaking that fuck’s head in with the warhammer. Barnabas really wanted that man dead by his hand.

  Reeva was more than happy to let the big man have his moment.

  The group were laid half a mile from the fortress, that still burned blazing and strong against the late night. There was an apple tree that leant over the side of the main road. The grass was still soaked in the rain that had ceased and the mud was sodden and squishy. But none cared about that. They were alive. Reeva looked around at the people about her.

  Seated across the road from her, Boras was nursing a splinter in his hand that he picked up from pushing a cart carrying the sickest of the prisoners away from the fortress. They were unable to hitch Gaxidon to it, for the horse was too proud for such a layman’s work. So they were forced to push the cart with combined effort from Children, Wayward and Mercury.

  He cursed as he picked at his skin. Sitra sat next to him, watching him struggle with increased humour. Her foot was tied into a splint and was fashioned into a walking stick by some debris of the destroyed stables of the fortress.

  Tilda was in conversation with Barnabas, Doctor Hacker and the Belle Dame Margret. She had explained that they must leave for Silverstreak before anyone from the capital retaliated. They were in agreement and had the people packed up and ready to go.

  Hacker asked for Malka to be spared and to be taken with them. Which was agreed with some reluctance, as long as the bounty hunter was kept a close eye on.

  Nearby, Torrance and Vanto stood by another cart with oxen that they had stolen from a farm across the way. Inside the cart was a full cart’s worth of loot and coins. Thankfully, and despite the fire’s best efforts, the treasury was accessible, and the Waywards and Mercuries made swift work of getting the wealth out before it melted by the flames. Now the two men were discussing the best way to safeguard the riches.

  Vanto elected to have the treasure taken to the Mercurial Den. Torrance denied that and explained that the Silverstreakers and the other prisoners needed an escort and asked that Vanto take his people with Barnabas to the mining town. It would be unsafe for anyone of great number and with such wealth to be in the city. Vanto agreed with this logic and made his plans with Sitra and the remainder of the gang members.

  Nerisity approached Reeva quietly and knelt by Arcos. She reached down and stoked his charred, bloodied hair.

  Reeva watched her with extreme worry.

  Nerisity had not said much since the rescue. And in her hands was still the bundle of bloodied clothes. The baby. Her baby. She was still holding onto it.

  Reeva’s stomach churned.

  By now, everyone knew what transpired between Markus and Nerisity, and all were careful not to look at Nerisity nor ask her any questions. The poor girl’s spirit was on the edge of collapse, and gods knew that she needed some peace.

  But despite that, despite all of that pain and evil, Nerisity wordlessly helped with checking the children. Making sure they were fed by their rescuers, ensuring their wounds were not dangerous… She worked with a quiet strength that made Reeva very proud. She was damn strong. And Reeva felt that she had to say something. Anything to show the girls that she was supported.

  “Nerisity?” Reeva asked her.

  Nerisity looked up at her. Her eyes were red from crying. “Yes?” She replied, her first word since leaving the fortress.

  “Are you doing alright?”

  “I am. I am.”

  “Good. Good.” Reeva rubbed her knees. “I am so sorry… It was a terrible thing.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m just saying…that if you want to talk about it… or well, say anything… I’m here. Boras, Tilda and Torrance… We’re here. We’re ready to listen.”

  Nerisity blinked. Tears formed in her eyes. She smiled weakly as she reached over Arcos with her hand towards Reeva.

  Reeva, still unsure of everything, awkwardly reached back and gripped Nerisity’s hand.

  Reeva felt Nerisity’s hand shake. Reeva kept her grip strong. She wanted to give Nerisity her strength. Her solidarity.

  Nerisity smiled again as her tears fell. “Thank you.” She replied finally.

  Reeva bit her lips. Tears were also threatening to break through her eyes as well. She blinked a couple of times to fight them off.

  Nerisity leant down and kissed Reeva’s hand. “You’re a kind soul, Reeva. I’m glad Arcos has you with him.”

  “He has you too,” Reeva countered. “He did all of this, for you.”

  “Yes… he did…” Nerisity’s face faltered. The face was sweet but with the mention of Arcos's actions… it fell into an uncertainty. Into a place that Reeva saw as apprehension. She couldn’t understand it.

  Nerisity released Reeva’s hand, wiped away the tears, and stood up. “I’ll be back.” She walked away from Reeva and Arcos and headed towards Margret and Barnabas. Reeva watched as Margret saw Nerisity approach them. The older woman burst into fresh tears and embraced a shivering Nerisity, who was, in no doubt, weeping in return. Barnabas laid his hands on both of them, bowing his head with a display of silent grief.

  Reeva’s heart ached at the sight.

  Tilda approached Reeva next, looking back at Nerisity as she passed the black-cloaked assassin. Tilda stood before Reeva and waved over Boras to join her side. Boras joined them, now resorting to plucking out the stubborn splinter with his teeth. He yanked out the bloody piece of wood with a sigh of relief.

  “Gods, that was worse than the pebble.” He griped as he spat the wood away.

  “Still going on about that pebble…” Reeva groaned. “We just survived a brutal battle. And you’re going on about pebbles and splinters.”

  “I’m a simple man.” Boras said as he squeezed any dirt from the wound. “I like my comforts.”

  “Gods, you are special.” Tilda rolled her eyes. “How is he, Reeva?”

  Reeva stood up to face Tilda and nodded with a gentle smile. “He’s still sleeping. Got a bit burnt from all the fire, as you were. But I think he’ll be okay.” Reeva sighed raggedly, feeling the exhaustion catching up to her. “Thank you for coming. You saved us all.”

  Tilda nodded to her. “Be thankful that we saw the fire on our journey to the city. We had no clue you were actually attempting to storm the fortress itself. Madness that you thought that would be the correct path. Reckless… Courageous ran on ahead, we followed because we assumed he was going after Arcos. Thank the Black we were correct and we got to you in time.”

  “He’s a good boy.” Reeva turned to see the great Sarku asleep and never too far from Arcos. Courageous had suffered many wounds in the battle; deep cuts lacerated his body, and his wings were blooded with broken feathers twitching out in awkward angles. His fur was also burnt in places, leaving patches of bare pink skin visible. His armour, darkened by the fire and damaged by the fight, lay in a collected pile beside him. He was snoring in long, deep purrs, and his thick tail acted once more as his blindfold. His wounds were no longer bleeding; his kind’s unique physiology was already healing his injuries at their impressive rate.

  “He saved us in turn.” Tilda smiled warmly as she looked at the Sarku. Reeva and Boras were struck by that expression. They never saw her smile like that before. Gods, it only made her beauty all the more striking. “He loves that boy like he were kin.”

  She looked back to the pair. “You three have caused a great deal of disturbance in the Guild. Many wished you dead, namely Elders Gristle and Divana. But not all shared that sentiment. Elder Lowan and I vouched for you.”

  “Thanks.” Boras said. “But why? I thought you were very angry with us.”

  “I’m still angry with you now.” Tilda raised her eyebrow at him. “No one leaves the Guild without a punishment or a penance. Trust me, yours will be decided once we return.”

  “Return?” Reeva started. “They’re— they’re taking us back?”

  “Correct. Believe me, I was just as surprised.” Tilda looked down at Arcos. “He, especially, must return. That sword of his… it caused concern and fear amongst the Elders. They wish for it to return so that it is kept safe from all who would use it.”

  “What is that sword?” Reeva asked. “I knew there was something not right with it.”

  “It is a dangerous blade from a forgotten time.” Tilda explained. “Sibling Archibald told us it was a blade that came from the stars and corrupted a man who wielded it. It changed him into a bloodthirsty avenger. Does that sound familiar?”

  Reeva and Boras exchanged a look. “Yeah.” They agreed.

  “He has to come back with us.” Tilda said, her face set grimly. “But first, we must rest. None of us are in any fit state to travel yet. We shall stay here and wait for him to awaken.”

  “Is it safe to be here?” Boras asked as he looked up and down the main road. “We shouldn’t stay for too long. Someone will come to investigate.”

  “If it is a small group, we will be ignored. The Silverstreak people will be departing now.” Tilda looked back to that group to ensure that they were.

  Many wooden carts, stolen from Markus and from the farms nearby, made up a ramshackle caravan. The cast were filled with the sick, the old, the young, the injured, and the dead. Four carts made up the dead, much to the grim sadness of those still alive. It was a brutal fight, and the rescuers paid a heavy price. Out of the hundred and fifteen that came to the rescue, fifty were dead. It was a terrible duty to collect the dead, one which the Children volunteered to do. Unlike the Silverstreakers and the hired sell-swords, they were not easily swayed by the sight of death.

  The bodies of the Fist and the Bodyhunters were left in the fortress to burn and were stripped of their usable weapons and armour. They had no time to arrange them in the respectful ways of the dead. Nor did the survivors really care. They deserved no such niceties.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The Children were regarded by the Silverstreakers, the Waywards, and the Mercuries with suspicion and curiosity. These strange, black-clad fighters came from the darkness like wraiths and changed the tide of the fight with their ferocious fighting skills and their bird-singing knives. Vanto had attempted to talk with some of the Children to gain some information but was ignored. He was adamant to learn more about these people, but Torrance had advised him to tread very lightly. This was something that had never happened before.

  No one, especially the Children, knew how to act in this situation. So tensions were running a little high.

  The last cart held the treasures of the fortress. Many eyes were curious to see what wealth they had taken, but that was something only for Vanto and Torrance to know.

  Barnabas climbed into the first cart with Margret and together they signalled for the convoy to begin their journey. The Children bowed their heads to Tilda and departed.

  Sibling Valari gave a smile to Boras and Reeva and walked with the children’s carts. Vance and Custio gave curt nods to Tilda and Torrance before following the rest.

  Hacker sat in a cart with the injured, still tending to a now unconscious Malka who was heavily bandaged, but still alive.

  Sitra rested on one of the carts that carried the Mercuries with Vanto driving it. With her broken ankle sticking out from the side, she looked over and waved at Boras with a small smirk. Boras waved back at her with an equal smirk.

  Soon, the only ones left on the side of the main road were Reeva, Boras, Tilda, Torrance, a sleeping Courageous, a slumbering Arcos and surprisingly, Nerisity herself. She came to them, now empty-handed and calm.

  “Nerisity.” Reeva said to her with concern. “What are you still doing here? Why aren’t you with the convoy?”

  Nerisity shook her head. “I… wanted to stay. I want Arcos to see that I’m safe.”

  Boras coughed a little. “Uh… what about the… uh… you know.” He gestured at her hands.

  Nerisity regarded him with a sad look. “Oh. Yes. I gave the… The Belle Dame has the… she’s going to take care of things until we return… once he is alright.”

  Boras exchanged a look with Reeva. But he nodded.

  “Okay, if you are fine with it… How long do we need to stay for?” Boras asked Tilda.

  “Until he is awake and ready to travel. And until I deem it fit that he is safe to travel with.”

  “Safe to travel with?” Nerisity asked her, eyes staring with confusion. “Excuse me, miss. What do you mean by that?”

  “I wanted the convoy away from us.” Tilda explained patiently, regarding this girl with some measure of indifference. “Until Arcos shows he is in control of his emotions, only then do we travel.”

  “He isn’t a danger.” Nerisity protested.

  “You haven’t seen what he did in there…” Tilda gave her a stern look. “I will not take any risk.”

  Nerisity opened her mouth to retort. But Reeva quickly stepped up and placed a calming hand on Nerisity’s shoulder to silence her.

  “I understand.” Reeva nodded. “It is for the best.”

  Nerisity looked to Reeva. But upon seeing Reeva’s stern eyes and shaking head, Nerisity slightly bowed her head in acceptance.

  “And what happens when he does wake up?” Torrance asked with a worry in his tired eye. It had been a long night. The last thing he needed was more problems concerning the boy.

  “We shall see what he does.” Tilda said calmly.

  Courageous suddenly jolted awake and slowly approached Arcos. Everyone saw the Sarku move and then looked to Arcos. Arcos groaned.

  “He’s waking up!” Reeva shouted.

  Nerisity flew down to his side and gripped his open hand. She jerked back for a moment before grabbing his hand again. “He’s so cold… Arcos! Arcos! Wake up, please.”

  Arcos's eyelids fluttered and they then opened. No one said anything. They stared in stunned silence.

  Arcos had opened his eyes.

  He knew he did. So why couldn’t he see? There was a milky pearl light that covered his eyes. He blinked again and the blanket did not leave. There was nothing else he could see. “What? What?” He said confused.

  Nerisity leant away, a hand covering her mouth in horror.

  The others stared. Arcos's eyes were a milky white. Like a blind man.

  “I’m blind.” Arcos said blankly. Then he started to panic. “I’m blind! I’m blind! Oh gods! I’m blind!”

  He tried to stand but he collapsed onto his rear. He started to sob. To breath frantically. Nerisity embraced him. Arcos flinched at her touch and then he began to settle down.

  “Is that you?” He asked.

  “Yes.” It was Nerisity’s voice. Soft and sweet and warm. “I’m here, Arcos. I’m here.”

  “We all are.” Reeva said as she knelt down by his side. “Huh?” Arcos uttered. “Wait… wait… I can see…” He blinked and the pearl blanket started to fade from his eyes. His sight returned. And Arcos was indeed able to see Nerisity, Reeva, Boras, Tilda, Torrance and even his wonderful Sarku, Courageous. Courageous still kept his distance, regarding him with some caution.

  “Okay…” Torrance admitted. “That was… odd.”

  Tilda said nothing. She was watching Arcos like a hawk.

  Arcos patted Nerisity on her wrist. “Let me stand.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  Arcos staggered to his feet, leaning on Nerisity’s shoulder to face the group. “What happened?” He asked. His head was swimming with images of death, pain, loss, rage, fear…

  “We won.” Torrance answered with a beaming grin that hid the battle-fatigue. “Markus is dead. The Bodyhunters have all been destroyed. The fortress is burning to the ground. Everyone’s been rescued and are on their way to Silverstreak. We did it, Arcos. We won.”

  Arcos blinked. “We did?” He looked at Nerisity who smiled weakly. “We did?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good… Good…” Arcos sagged his head. “That’s good.” He saw the bandages on his body, under his clothes. “Oh…”

  “You were fucked up.” Boras chipped in. “Stabbed, slashed, bolt punctures in you all over. Couldn’t believe you were still alive. It was unbelievable. I thought you were dead, mate!”

  “It’s a miracle you survived.” Reeva said. “Honestly, Arcos! What were you thinking, going on the offensive like that? Alone?”

  “I was thinking of killing Markus and anyone who got in my way.” Arcos replied. “And considering what he did, I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “It was reckless!” She retorted. “You could have died.”

  “But I didn’t… I killed Markus! I did that, I-…” Arcos placed a hand in his forehead and closed his eyes. A throbbing headache threatened to swallow him. But he fought through it. And then asked, “Is Snowhair dead?”

  The group looked at eachother.

  “Well?” Arcos asked with a sting of anger creeping into his voice.

  “We didn’t find his body amongst the dead.” Boras admitted. “I think he fled the battle when Tilda’s force came.”

  “Then he’s still out there.” Arcos decided. “He’s a threat.”

  “He isn’t.” Reeva shook her head. “With Markus dead, the Bodyhunters are no more. Chances are, we’ll never see him again. He won’t be caught dead in the capital. We can just leave it.”

  “And besides,” Boras added off-handedly. “We won’t know where to look, even if we did go for him.”

  He’s lying. He knows where Snowhair will go now. He knows Snowhair’s great weakness…

  Arcos twitched.

  Alaintiqam whispered those words to him, and Arcos locked his ice-blue eyes on Boras.

  Boras stared back and then felt a strange prickle up his neck. A sense of danger.

  “Boras,” Arcos asked plainly. His vision started to cloud again, that pearl mist tunnel-visioning his sight towards Boras. “Do you know where Snowhair is going? Are you lying to me?”

  Boras slowly reached for his bloodied axes, still hanging on his belt. “Arcos, mate… Calm down.”

  “Am I not calm?” Arcos asked. His voice sounded off-kilter. A tremble that made his tone unstable and the sting of rage growing to a dagger that pierced the air. “Just answer my question, Boras. Right. Now.”

  “Arcos, I will not say anything to you when you’re like this. Until you put down that bloody sword.”

  Arcos paused. “What?”

  He looked down and realised that Alaintiqam was still in his right hand. The blood that covered his hand and arm had crusted and clotted, and the blood acted like a glue. It kept his hand and the hilt stuck together. But that didn’t seem to bother Arcos now. He took a step towards Boras.

  “Oh,” he said. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “You going to put down that sword?”

  “No,” Arcos stepped forward again.

  “Arcos…” Boras raised his hands. “There’s something wrong with you. Your eyes, your voice, your attitude. You’ve changed.”

  “How could I not be changed? Have you forgotten what they did? To me? To us? Is it so easily put aside by the rest of you that you think there’s something wrong with me?” Arcos was halfway across the road.

  “Arcos…” Boras warned.

  Sensing danger, Reeva and Tilda rushed in front of Boras and stood between him and Arcos.

  “Blade.” Tilda commanded. “Stand down.”

  Arcos paused. He looked at Reeva and at Tilda.

  And he snarled. “Get out of my way.”

  Arcos lifted Alaintiqam and swept it out. He was not close enough to strike them. But it was what came out of the sword that did.

  A band of bright moonlight leapt from the blade in a sweeping half circle. It struck the pair in their abdomens and sent both women flying over Boras's head.

  They crashed into the grass behind him, gasping and wincing in pain.

  Torrance sprinted out and bear-hugged Arcos from behind. “Kid, stay where you are! Don’t make us hurt you!” “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, you half-blind fool.” Arcos replied coldly before grabbing Torrance, pulling his hands free from his grip and flipping the man over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Torrance was knocked out cold.

  Courageous roared and rushed at Arcos, claws outstretched.

  Arcos spun out his boot with a lightning speed that Boras had not seen him display before before kicking Courageous in the face and sending the poor Sarku into a crumpled furry heap on the road.

  Boras had no time to react.

  Arcos crossed the rest of the gap in a second before latching his free hand on Boras's throat and lifting him up in the air, an inch from the ground. Boras felt ice in that grip, a cold, dead feeling that was not Arcos in that moment. He grabbed Arcos's wrist and pulled himself up with the grip so that he wouldn’t choke.

  Arcos whirled Alaintiqam and then poised their tip against Boras's stomach. Poised for skewering.

  Boras froze in place as he held onto Arcos's unnatural strength.

  “Arcos… I can’t breathe… please…”

  Arcos stared him down with those pearl eyes. “I will ask you one last time, Boras. Where is Snowhair going?”

  Boras looked around him.

  Nerisity stood there, horror-stricken and staring.

  Torrance and Courageous were knocked out and Tilda and Reeva were flinching on the ground in pain.

  He was alone and Arcos was going to kill him.

  Arcos was going to.

  There was no hesitation in those inhuman eyes.

  No doubt. Boras had no choice.

  Boras coughed out. “He’s gone into the city. There’s a house in the Central District! A house with a blue door and ivy on the walls. He has a family. A wife and a son! Arcos! Get your hand off me! I can’t breathe-”

  Arcos stared. He released Boras, who dropped to the ground coughing and choking.

  Arcos looked at the ground and around his area in confusion.

  Snowhair had a family. A wife and a son. A wife and a son!

  A monster with a happy life. Does that seem fair?

  No. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! Snowhair got to enjoy his life when Arcos slaved in a slave pit. Snowhair got a marriage when Arcos was fighting for his life. Snowhair got his love when Arcos had his love stolen!

  And that monster got to have a child. A child. A child that Arcos doesn’t have. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

  Arcos turned on his heel and headed in the direction of Fennaposia. But he halted. There was one more person standing in his way.

  Nerisity stood there, shaking and severely weakened. She had her hands spread out, attempting all she could to be a barrier against his anger.

  Boras coughed and pulled himself to his feet. “Arcos… don’t you dare…” He stumbled after Arcos. Arcos turned, backhanded Boras across the face - who slammed into the ground, concussed - and continued towards Nerisity who stood her ground.

  “And you…” Arcos said slowly as he stood before her. He looked down at her. She looked up at him. “You will be in my way too?”

  Nerisity, pale, weak, stricken with pain and fear, stared him down with unblinking eyes that filled with tears. “Arcos… listen to me. Arcos, please…” she begged. “Ignore everything else. Forget about Bodyhunters and Barons and all that madness… Just put down the sword and come away with us. Come away with me. Come back home.”

  She reached up and placed one hand on his cheek and one on his chest, like she had done the first time they made love.

  But Arcos did not react to the touch. He only stared at her with those cold, stony, blind eyes. Nerisity sucked in a breath. “You’re so cold. Arcos, what’s wrong with you? Why are you so… cold?”

  Arcos only lifted his empty hand and held the hand that touched his face. He took it off himself with a slow and deliberate move. And then with one gentle sweep, he pushed a stunned Nerisity aside.

  “Everything I’ve done…” Arcos said slowly. “I have done for you. If you love me as I love you… do not stop me. Allow me to avenge our child…”

  And with that, Arcos sprinted into the darkness, leaving his good, trusted friends injured and concussed and his dearest love on her knees, weeping and broken.