A Shadow in the Mist

“Wardens are not required to serve the church or crown, though most do so. Some Wardens, for various reasons, become independent. Contracting out their services instead of receiving a stipend from the church or land from the crown. These Rogue Wardens often work as mercenary guards for merchants, private security, or own their own businesses. Some look down on Rogue Wardens due to how many become independent in order to pursue borderline, or full-on illegal, actions such as running brothels catering to Wardens, operating blood sports, or trading with the fell.”

- Guysen Rielden, 472 AB

Enoch- Saturday, September 7th, 564 AB

I sat up, slipping Hanah’s arm off my neck as I slid out of bed. I kissed her hair then stood up, pulling on my shirt, pants and boots. I grabbed Hyades, slinging the spear over my shoulder as I walked into the main hall. I went outside to the pen where Hero was kept. He raised his shaggy head from where he had been gnawing on cow leg bone.

“Come on boy,” I said, opening the door and patting my thigh.

He jumped to his feet, his tail wagging. He charged me, jumping up to plant his front paws on my chest.

“Down boy!” I snapped out.

He dropped to the ground, his head sagging and his tail stopping its frenzied wagging.

“Sit,” I commanded.

There was some hesitancy, but he eventually sat back on his haunches.

“Good boy!” I praised him rubbing his ears, and his tail started wagging again.

I clicked my fingers and Hero came to my side. He tried jumping up a few more times but eventually I got him to settle down and heel. I went through my morning exercises. There were no classes today, but there was still personal training to do.

I threw Hyades at the target. “Wind Phalanx!”

I didn’t get the ability to activate at range. I held out my hand and the spear snapped back into my palm. I kept throwing it, trying to break through and bond with my relic deeper. My father walked out of the house and came over to watch me.

“Don’t try to push it,” he said, noticing some of my frustration.

“You aren’t trying to break something, you're trying to unlock it,” he said. “You already are bonded with the relic, you just need to uncover the depths of that bond.”

“Yes father,” I said and took a deep breath, calming my frustration. “What are we doing today?”

“I’m introducing Cain to an old friend,” he said.

“I’ll get my armor on,” I said.

“No,” my father said firmly. “This isn’t someone your mother or I want you to meet.”

I frowned. “But you're introducing Cain to him?”

“Cain needs his help,” my father said. “He’s also a noble’s son, even if he is a bastard, he has more societal protections than you do. Being associated with this man could damage your future.”

My frown disappeared. “Does Cain really need to meet him?”

“He’s the best dagger fighter I’ve ever met,” father said. “He was a terror back in the war, if anyone can help Cain learn to win in duels it's him.”

I still wasn’t sure, but this wasn’t a decision for me to make. “Just let Cain know about it before you introduce them.”

“I will,” father said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

He tousled Hero’s head and moved on. I went back to training; Cain would be busy today so we wouldn’t be going hunting. That meant I would just be training and spending time with Hanah today.

Cain

I woke up to find Aranea had already left a note telling me she’d gone to the library. I got dressed and went down to the mess hall to get breakfast. I finished eating and found my horse, saddling and mounting it to head down to Rineer’s homestead. He intercepted me as I was riding through town.

“We’re not training today,” he said. “I need to introduce you to that friend I was telling you about.”

“Where is Enoch?” I asked.

“He’s not coming,” Rineer said and looked at me sternly. “I don’t want you to introduce him to this man. It could badly damage his reputation; it might hurt yours as well, so be warned.”

“Why?” I asked, suddenly uneasy.

Rineer turned his horse’s reins and I followed him.

“Because he’s a Rogue Warden,” Rineer said. “He runs an establishment that…skirts the edges of legality in various matters.”

“Then why are we dealing with him?” I asked.

“Because he was the fastest man alive before the war,” Rineer explained. “And the best dagger fighter I’ve ever seen.”

I was silent as we moved through the town. We left the stone townhouses behind the buildings changing to wood. Warehouses, blacksmiths and smelly tanneries were the main buildings in this part of town with smaller wooden houses in between them. Rineer moved to what was a tavern of some sort. Heavy iron doors were closed and the windows were made of frosted glass preventing us from seeing inside. It was early in the morning but already I could hear the sounds of raucous laughter and a piano playing and the clink of glasses.

A large man stood in front of the doors blocking the way in.

“Regulars only,” the man said, holding out a hand to stop us.

I stopped, but Rineer just kept moving.

“We’re Wardens you’re not,” he said bluntly. “Step aside, I need to talk to Solomon about a favor he owes me.”

The man opened his mouth, about to say something. He shut his mouth when Rineer’s armor began flowing up his arms. He jumped out of the way as Rineer shoved open the doors. I followed him, not as sure in my movements as him.

The light was low in the tavern and I could see a lot of men drinking, gambling with barely clothed women serving them or leading them down darkened halls. I was startled as I realized most of the clientele were Wardens like us.

“Rineer you old bastard!” a man shouted.

I whirled around at the outburst and watched as a lean man lept the counter of the bar and landed lightly. His ease of movement was surprising due to the wooden leg that began under his right knee. He walked with an odd gait, but his movements were still smooth and confident.

“Don’t tell me you’ve come here to enjoy the fine accommodations of my upstanding establishment?” he asked, a broad grin on his face revealing perfect white teeth.

“No,” Rineer said, grabbing my shoulder and pushing me forward. “I’m here because you owe me a favor.”

Solomon looked me up and down. “He’s a good enough looking boy, my girls would be happy to get his rocks off for him.”

I felt myself flush and heard some chuckles from around the tavern and the appraising looks of many of the women.

“He needs training,” Rineer said, interrupting the laughter. “He uses a dagger like you and needs an expert to teach him how to use it against other weapons.”

“Oh, that kind of favor,” Solomon said with a sigh. “Come on back to my office. Girls keep an eye on our customers while I’m busy.”

We were led into a backroom and seated before a polished wooden desk. Solomon pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and glasses, pouring us each a drink.

“So why should I train the kid?” he asked.

“Because you owe me a favor for when I had to cover your ass for your war profiteering,” Rineer said. “And because I know how much you hate royal blood.”

“What’s royal blood got to do with all this?” Solomon asked, tossing back his whiskey.

“They’ve got the prince teaching all the first years who didn’t perform well enough how to duel,” Rineer said. “They aren’t teaching Cain here though, just throwing him into practice duels until he sinks or swims.”

“Can you duel?” Solomon asked me his knuckles tightening around his glass. He noticed that too and quickly set his glass down.

“Not with my relic,” I said. “I don’t have the reach.”

“Using a dagger isn’t just about speed and aggression,” Solomon said. “It’s about cunning, tricks and being a right bastard; you seem like a nice upstanding church going boy. Tell me Cain, can you be a right bastard.”

“Yes,” I said, but my voice was uncertain.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Solomon growled.

“Yes sir!” I snapped out firmly.

“Don’t sir me, reminds me of my time in service,” Solomon said with a snort, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. “I can teach you how to duel, not in the way the nobles will like, but within the rules. And make it so you will be able to win.”

“That’s all I ask,” Rineer said standing. “I’ll leave him in your hands. Don’t corrupt him too much, and keep your girls off him. He’s got a sweet girl and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

Solomon waved him off. “My girls have enough to do, they’ll leave him alone.”

Rineer left and Solomon pushed the drink he had poured for me towards me.

“Drink up, we’ve got a hard day ahead of us,” he said.

I tossed back the whiskey and felt the older Warden’s eyes judging me.

“Are you an honorable man Cain?” he asked me.

I paused. “I think so sir.”

“Honorable in that you keep your word or that you do what’s right?” Solomon asked.

“I’m not sure if I understand the difference,” I said.

“Can you keep a secret?” Solomon asked. “Can I trust you to keep my secrets and not rat on me?”

“Yes sir, I can keep a secret,” I said.

“Good,” Solomon said after another moment of silent contemplation. “Follow me.”

I followed him as he opened a door at the end of the hall and we descended down a spiral set of stairs. He talked while we walked and I listened as the sound of the tavern faded above us.

“My name is Solomon Heldaro, proud owner of the Golden Gypsy,” he said. “Everyone around here just calls me Solomon.”

“I’m Cain Le’Meer,” I said.

“No one cares, kid,” he said, but it wasn’t unkind. “If you want anyone to give a shit about your name then you need to make that name not rest on the deeds of your parents. Don’t recognize your last name. You related to anyone important?”

“My father is Sir Jason Lanceren,” I said.

“The war hero?” Solomon asked. “Different last name so you’re not one of his legitimate children; no shame from me. I don’t take with those things.”

We passed down a stone tunnel, iron doors on all sides. I heard things behind the doors and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Solomon said. “You got your Relic on you?”

I touched my forearm where my dagger was sheathed.

“Interesting place to keep your weapon,” Solomon said. “But it looks like you can draw quick from it so that’s what matters.”

We stepped into a ring of sand. I looked about at the iron portcullis and Solomon leaned back against the wall. The walls were covered in dark stains and the sand had been freshly raked.

“I’ve never seen you fight before but, you want to know how I already know how you always lose?” Solomon asked.

“How?” I asked, feeling a bit of defiance and defensiveness rise up in me.

“You fight fair,” Solomon said.

One of the portcullis rose up and a djinn stepped out. The Mist djinn was soldier tier and I backed up, but the portcullis I had come from was closed now, Solomon on the other side of it.

“First test,” he said. “Kill that without using your skills, anything else goes.”

I pulled Achlys from his sheath and tensed as the djinn grew nearer.

“Don’t tense up,” Solomon said. “You’ll telegraph all your moves like that. Be loose, but keep your muscles taught like a coiled viper. Never be predictable, reach doesn’t matter if they can’t see you coming or know where you’re going to be.”

I dodged a thrust from the djinn’s spear as it came close to my torso. I lunged forwards but the djinn slid back out of range. I had to drop to the ground and roll to avoid taking a thrust through my neck.

“Stay in close like you’re its shadow,” Solomon said. “That spear has reach but that’s also its weakness; don’t let them use it and that strength is wasted.”

The soldier djinn stabbed at me with its spear and I was forced to twist to the side. I slid forwards, getting face to face with the mist djinn. It couldn’t use its spear, but it did have its secondary clawed arms. It slashed at my face and I ducked under it. I had to resist the urge to jump back out, which would have put me out of reach of the claws but set me up for a spear thrust.

“Good,” Solomon said. “Remember, there are no real rules in a fight, even a duel. You can’t use your skills but pretty much anything else goes. Sand in the eyes, grab a rock off the ground and throw it. You might get called a cheater but it's within the rules. At the end of the day, the only thing that will matter is which of you won.”

I ducked and blocked its claws. I hacked down through the bone-like plating and mist of the djinn’s arm, removing one of its clawed hands. I tackled it to the ground. That wasn’t too hard since, despite being the same size as me, it weighed only around a hundred pounds. It swiped its other hand at me, dropping its spear to rake at me with all three of his hands. I drove my dagger through its chest and ripped upwards, carving through the ribcage and leaves that comprised its torso.

32 XP gained, 1 Corruption absorbed into your Core

There was a lot of cheering and I looked up in surprise to see the roof had disappeared at some point. There was a cage of iron forty feet above me and a ring of men and women looking down on me.

“Thank you, my esteemed patrons!” Solomon said, walking out of the tunnel. “You’ve just witnessed our newest fighter's first match. Take your bets now, he’s going to be a regular in the sands.”

I breathed heavily, regaining my breath from the stress of battle.

“Is this how you’re going to teach me?” I asked.

“Partly,” Solomon said. “Your instructors aren’t entirely wrong to just have you running duels, but we need to get you outside of the mindset of your weapon’s reach being a weakness. It can be, but it can also be a strength.”

“How?” I asked. “I’ve read enough history to know no famous Warden has ever used a dagger.”

“Do you want that? Fame?” Solomon asked.

I hesitated; I had never really thought about that. “I don’t know. I want…to be respected.”

“All those famous Wardens,yes they fought their high minded duels, their battles against armies of djinn but they would never have gotten there if there wasn’t someone in the backlines of their enemy putting a knife in their back. You may never become famous because of your dagger, but you can become effective.”

“So, what else does my training entail?” I asked.

Solomon snapped his fingers and the sandy floor darkened as a cover slid over the iron bars blocking us from sight from the onlookers above.

“Now I show you how to really use that broken sword,” he said, drawing a slim twelve-inch-long blade from behind his back.

Aranea

I was in one of the leather shops today working on a leather chest piece. I’d made my first prototype for the ward I’d been creating, but I needed a piece of armor to apply it to. I had taken to calling the ward Thorn-Reflection in my head, and finished the simple chest-piece. It wasn’t anything masterful, but it would give some modest protection. Next, I set it down on the worktable, took out a piece of white chalk and drew the pattern for the ward on the inside of the chest piece.

I started poking holes with an awl and carving out grooves for the thread to go along. Unlike the wards woven from willow boughs or other springy branches, the thread would form the pattern instead of holding the branches into the shapes of the pattern.

Taking a broad needle, I threaded it with a strand of pure ether. I drew the thread in and out of the holes I’d bored in the leather. Eventually, I held up the chest piece, looking it over.

Type:

Retaliatory Chest-guard

Grade:

D

Once every five hours the wielder can trigger this chest-guard’s ward for the next minute.

When hit by a physical melee attack, the attacker will receive 25 base damage. This effect can occur once every ten seconds.

Durability:

50/50

While the creation of the ward had been successful, it hadn’t resulted in what I wanted. I bit back my disappointment. While the limitations on its activation and duration were high, and the overall damage was lower than I would like, A lot of that could be improved by using better materials and more ether while crafting. I took a mental step back; I had achieved what I set out to do, and the ward did as I had intended it to do.

I couldn’t be upset because I hadn’t put in the effort to make it as good as it had sounded in my imagination. I had succeeded where it would take a normal Weaver years of study. Creating a new ward was something not even all Weaver’s attempted given the risks and waste of resources that came with it. I’d been able to do it on my first attempt.

Granted, I’d studied a lot and come up with over a hundred different potential patterns before settling on this one, but it was something I was immensely proud of. I gathered up my things and headed back to our apartment, Cain wasn’t there. He should have been, considering the sun was starting to set and it would be late soon.

I started putting together dinner. While the mess hall was always open there was something about the privacy of our own space I just preferred. Cain came in. His clothes were ripped and stained with blood, which wasn’t new, but the amount of rips and tears was. He stripped out of his armor, leaving it by the door.

“Is Sir Rineer really training you that hard?” I asked, looking at the many rips and tears.

“I didn’t train with him today,” Cain said. “he introduced me to someone else who could help me with my dueling troubles.”

“Who?” I asked.

Cain hesitated. “There are certain things he made me promise to keep secret; he runs a certain kind of establishment that caters to Wardens.”

I was puzzled for a moment. “What kind of establishment just caters to Wardens…” I stopped, realizing what he must be implying.

“He runs a brothel?” I asked, indignant. Feeling a flush of anger that Cain had been spending his entire day with those kinds of women.

“And other…businesses,” Cain said.

“I don’t want you spending your day with those Companions,” I said, crossing my arms.

“They aren’t Companions they’re just whores,” Cain said. “Apparently you need a license from the Church to be a companion. And I’m not spending any of my time with them.”

“Then why are you there?” I asked my anger not abating at his words.

“Because Solomon is a brilliant knife-fighter,” Cain said. “And my instructors here know nothing about that. If I’m going to get good enough to get out of this stupid mandatory extra-training, I need to be able to beat them. Solomon was one of the greatest duelists before the war and can teach me.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” I said. “If he’s so good how come he still isn’t a great duelist?”

“He lost his leg in the war,” Cain said with a sigh. “Aranea please, I don’t want to argue about this; I have no interest in those whores, but that’s where my teacher is.”

“And he can’t teach you somewhere else?” I pressed.

“No,” Cain answered. “And before you ask, I can’t tell you why, it's one of the things I promised to keep to myself.”