The fire had died down to cinders long before we woke. Marie was nowhere to be found, likely just getting some fresh air. My eyes travelled over to the hilt of my rapier. Today’s the day. Let’s see if it’s a good fit.

  I found a nice open area within sight of the firepit, just to be safe, before drawing the blade. The fuller rang true all the way to the edge, a satisfying sound I’d only ever heard when my brother drew steel. The balance sat low on the blade, close to the guard. I took stance.

  Dominant side forward, free hand up and out, presenting the blade toward a target I’d picked on a whim — today a distant tree. Everything had to be perfect for the first swing. My balance was centered, my grip was firm, but something felt off.

  A stifled laugh hit my back like a pebble.

  “Marie.”

  She raised her eyebrow,

  “Ley. You look like you’re in a ballroom. Is that really how you fight with that needle?”

  Well, I suppose she’s not nowhere-to-be-found, at my expense. She had a point, though. This is how I was told to fight, but I didn’t see the point of all this noble flourish. I need something sleek, more... intelligent.

  “Maybe...” my sentence died as soon as it began.

  I looked into the reflection of this blade and inspected the version of me inside the fuller. Not any noble, not some overconfident duelist. Me. I folded my free hand behind my back, and everything felt... right.

  With a twist, I brought the sword down and across my body. The blade slashed through the wind, causing it to cry out in a satisfying whoosh. At the end of the cut, the blade didn’t shift in my hand. It sat there firm, waiting for orders.

  “Well... how is it?” Marie finally asked, hands clasped together.

  “It’s perfect.”

  It was easy to move, heavy enough to parry, armored enough to keep me safe. I’ll likely never have to raise this weapon, but if I do... I'll be ready.

  She playfully sent her fist into my shoulder, “just be careful, it’s still a real blade.”

  Air jumped out of my mouth, “I might have to fight back, if you keep hitting me like that.”

  “Oh please, you’d miss.” She rolled her eyes.

  I placed the sword back in the scabbard on my hip.

  Each of us carried our own bed roll, but Kaleh insisted on carrying the tent as well. Marie had a pot strapped to her pack, and I carried the food. Agnes still had her medicine to worry about, so we didn’t burden her with anything else.

  Not to mention she’d burn through the food without thinking if she was handling it. Marie had to cook for five every time we made camp, with Agnes eating double. How did she keep such a refined form despite that?

  The cold air covered me like a second skin. The distinct, damp-stone winter smell blanketed the road. Frost crunched under our heels as we continued along the path west. Heavy mountains sat far in the background —likely the imposing jagged-talon pass. Ervyan riders are unmatched in the mountains, their small horses easily outmaneuvering the most composed forces.

  The twin impressions of wagon wheels started to dig deeper into the dirt road. Bits of stone lay on the path. Sharp, threatening to pierce our boots.

  We climbed up a small ridge, catching up once again to Marie, who braced her hand on her knee. Within a deep impression sat a small village. The clang of metal on metal sounded from the bottom, alongside thin ribbons of smoke. The faintest bit of coal dust lingered in the air, alongside an eerie silence.

  Agnes pulled out her trusty map once again.

  “Oh, this must be Ferhom! I think it’s a mining town.”

  Marie nodded, still catching her breath.

  “Yeah... every other person’s holding a pickaxe.”

  Something felt wrong. Even for a small town in the midst of winter it was too... quiet. People talk, children play, but none of that was happening down there.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  There’s something going on underneath the surface, and not just mining.

  “Let’s make our way down.” I suggested.

  “Do they even have an inn? We should walk through and keep going.”

  Kaleh retorted.

  “We've been moving all morning. A short rest couldn’t hurt” Marie added, eyes shut to repel the light.

  From up here, it seemed like this one road cut through the entire village like its spine. A quaint well sat in the middle, completely unused. Forge-hammers rang endlessly. We finally made it past the first row of houses, boots sinking into the scarce grass.

  Then shouting. A barked command, then a cry. A harsh voice rang out from the plaza. Muffled, sharpened like it was a knife. A cry rang out as the other one ceased. This one choked, drenched in pain.

  Marie snapped her bow off her shoulder, holding it at her side. Agnes cursed under her breath, wincing at sounds she’d heard all too often. Kaleh pushed his cloak over his shoulder, placing a hand on the pommel of his longsword. We rounded the corner.

  A soldier stood there, pinning a man to the wall with one arm, launching strike after strike with his other. The colors draped over his black lamellar weren’t anything that existed around here. A maroon red created from iron-rust. A slate grey from repurposed slag. The soldier was doubtless from Ervys.

  My body began moving of its own accord. I couldn’t just let this slide.

  “You, Ervyan! Listen close.” I shouted.

  I heard Marie’s arrow knock against the handle. Kaleh planted his feet firm, digging them into the ground.

  I found the words all too easy, but could I back them up?

  “I am ready to draw steel for my countryman. Are you ready to aggress them?”

  The helmet sitting on his hair reminded me of a skull. It was sleek, rounded, and effective cover for how little metal it used. His hauberk flowed in the wind, the civilians gathered in silence to watch what happened next. A mixture of fear and anticipation began to permeate as the man stepped forward.

  “And who do you think you are, Arnien shite-eater? You’re standing like I should know you.”

  I smirked the same way they used to describe Merric.

  “I’m just a traveler. I don’t expect you to know who I am.”

  My hand tightened on the hilt of my blade. “But you'll remember my bootprint.”

  The Ervyan drew steel, a cavalry saber. I made it a point to draw second.

  “One more step and I’ll meet you.” I declared.

  He took one step, quickly following it with several more.

  He sent a slash across his body, but with the speed he was moving at it was utterly uncontrolled. The strong of my rapier met the weak of his saber, giving me full control.

  I sent his sword thoroughly off line, before biting his hand with a quick swipe. Crimson red flew from the wound, causing the Ervyan’s fingers to spasm. The curved sword clattered to the ground.

  Then, a flash of light reflected off a dagger as he drew it from his belt.

  I’d not anticipated that!

  Scrawl formed across my arm, wind desperately trying to pull me away in time. He’s too close to-

  A corkbulb arrow collided with the fighter’s helmet, sending him reeling to the ground with a pained yelp. Gods... I can already see the welt forming under that bucket.

  I turned back to Marie,

  “Leonn, you’ve gotta watch the off-hand.”

  Her hand and bowstring were both still trembling. She saved my life yet again.

  “Yeah, I figured.”

  Murmurs echoed from across the plaza,

  “He cut the blade right out of his hand.”

  I held my rapier up, flicking what little blood I drew off the edge before quickly replacing it in the scabbard. I’ll not have this thing rust.

  I approached the villager who’d just been getting his ribs realigned, holding my hand out to pull him up.

  “By the mercy of Elgrim, thank you.”

  He coughed out, choking on the agony.

  The Ervyan called out, voice muffled as he desperately cradled his hand.

  “Name yourself! I’ll have your head on a pike!”

  I cleared my throat, making sure to get it through that dented skull.

  “I am Leonn! Traveller of no consequence.” A smirk pulled at my mouth, remembering how Merric never spared a man’s pride.

  “Though you’re beneath consequence entirely.”

  The Ervyan scrambled upright, nearly tripping as he bolted for his steed. A sharp tug on the reins, and he was already cresting the hill. Marie approached with a slight wobble, hand bracing her hip.

  “I really owe you one. I was a bit overzealous.”

  She snorted,

  “Don’t worry Ley, my help’s beneath consequence too.”

  The short, breathless laugh turned into a quiet wheeze as it left her.

  The beaten man collapsed to his knees once again, either too winded or too weak to stand.

  “Kaleh! Agnes! Come help out, will you?” They both rushed over. Agnes dropped to his side at once, pulling out a vial of that disgusting elixir.

  “You’ll probably want to throw this back up, but It’ll help the pain.”

  He dragged his eyes up from the ground to look at her, then he glanced at me, and then he downed the entire thing with no complaint. Still, his shoulders jumped when it hit his tongue.

  “Don’t breathe through your nose. Makes it worse,” Agnes added.

  What conviction!

  He opened his mouth to speak, but the air sliced his throat on the way out. He recoiled, hand pressed against his side as he powered through. “Leonn, of no consequence... I owe you my life.”

  His bruised chest rose and fell with each labored breath.

  A small crowd circled in. Doors cracked open, faces peered out, and murmurs died on cold air. Agnes continued to work with compassion, and we let our weapons hang harmlessly at our sides. The people of Ferhom seemed tense, but it was thinning by the second. Eventually, they figured we were no threat, and the plaza exhaled.