In a small town north of the reach, where new footsteps in the soft blanket of white snow was rare enough to be the talk of the town, Rivy had thoughts of revenge.

"Come in, come in!" Lucy said, pulling a man through the door to the inn. He had to duck under the doorway. The usual mild chatter of the room was extinguished, and a heavy silence filled the space between them.

The man looked around, and took his hat off, brushing the snow off onto the floor before taking a seat at a table apart from the other patrons. The chair creaked under his weight, and he had to take the enormous blade off his back to sit, setting it across the table. His blue eyes seemed to shine as they drifted around the room once more, having escaped the shade of his wide-brimmed hat. “Water, and food. Anything, something hot.” He said in a gruff voice to Lucy, who quickly darted towards the kitchen.

Nearly everyone’s eyes were on him, but Rivy’s attention was stolen by another man, sitting at the bar. He wasn’t anything like the mysterious mountain of a man who had just walked in. This man wasn’t particularly interesting in any way, save for his appetite for alcohol, but even that wasn’t all that unusual these days.

They called him “Aldo the Drunk”. He was probably a soldier, at one point, a few of the regulars had guessed when he stumbled in near a month ago. Rivy wasn't sure how they could figure that out just by looking at him. He was too scrawny to be a soldier. Thin, and ragged. Homeless, always passing out in the bar, having to be moved to the stable’s barn. Just enough money to buy more drinks the next night, though she wasn’t sure where he was getting the money from.

“Can we get another round over here?” One of three young men at a table called. Lucy bumped against Rivy, pulling her from her thoughts.

She winked at her, and said “They’re talking to you, girl. You know he fancies you, me thinks.” And with a sly giggle, she turned back into the kitchen.

Rivy nodded, and brought a jug over to the table to start filling their cups.

“You know, Rivy, I’m going off to war tomorrow.” Thomas, the youngest of the three, said. He had found a confidence he wasn’t used to at the bottom of his third cup. Ordinarily, he was content with staring at her and telling his companions his intent to marry her. Today, he was finally bold enough to speak to her directly.

“Aye,” Rivy said. “Good luck.” She tried to sound friendly, but she couldn’t shake the annoyance from her voice. It was so close, she thought. Tonight would be the night.

He pressed on. “Well, tonight is my last night here.”

A friend of his at the table saw him struggling, and thought he would come to rescue him. “The next time you see him, he’ll be marching in here a war hero!”

“If he comes back.” Rivy said cooly. She startled herself, and immediately turned to apologize, expecting shock on their faces.

The boys looked to one another and shared a hearty laugh.

Thomas threw himself out of the chair, knocking it back on the ground with a clatter, and threw his foot up on the table, striking a heroic pose. He meant to boast some exaggerated line, but the entire bar’s attention was drawn to the man who had entered moments before, his hands on his sword, half-drawn.

“P-pardon me, sir. Meant no harm.” Thomas said nervously, trying to break the settling tension.

The man sighed, and clipped his sword back into the scabbard. “Startled me, was all.” He said.

One of Thomas’ friends yanked him back down into his seat, and the boys focused on not making eye contact as they whispered about him. Rivy sat against the table, but only watched the strange man for a minute before her gaze fell upon Aldo at the bar once more. He was throwing back his eighth drink of the night, and the bartending eyed him wearily. He was close to cutting him off.

“He’s probably a mercenary.” One of the boys whispered.

“Bounty hunter, more likely.”

“Bounty? Who? Ain’t a soul in this backwoods town worth hunting.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Who then?”

“Not sure.” Thomas said. Then, noticing Rivy still sitting against the table, spoke louder. “Rivy, maybe? She’s fairly new to our town.”

She chuckled, turning back to them. “Me? I’ve been living here almost a year, now. I’m not exactly new.”

“New to us. People move away from this town all the time. Not many people move in.” Thomas said, and the others nodded. “Where did you say you was from before this?”

“Lush. I used to live there with my father.” She noticed the stranger the boys had been talking about raise his hand and wave her over. She looked around for Lucy, hoping she would take care of him, but she must have still been in the kitchen.

“Yes sir,” She said, making her way over to him. “What can I do for you?”

His cloak had drifted off his shoulder when he raised his arm, revealing the glistening silver of his armor from underneath. He was well equipped to be so far north, she thought, giving this man her attention for the first time tonight. Maybe he was a bounty hunter, she thought. The boys had been right to question it. What was he doing here? Then, an idea began swirling around in her mind.

“Are there rooms available?” He asked.

It didn’t make sense. If he was with the law, or a bounty hunter, he would have gone right for him. There he was, drunk at the bar, but he ignored him. Then, he wasn’t after him after all? And he intended to spend the night. So, he wasn’t in a hurry. She felt compelled to tell him all about it, but she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t know anything about him. He could be working with them, after all. Maybe if she knew more about him...

“Miss?” He asked.

“Oh, pardon me, sir. I was just curious about the armor, and the sword. Ain’t too many folk come ‘round here so well dressed.” She asked.

“They’re sure intrusive, though.” He snorted. “Rooms?”

She frowned. “Yes, sir. 5 pieces a night.”

He slid a gold coin across the table. “For the food, the room, and the service.”

Nodding, she slipped it into her apron, and fled towards the kitchen, frustrated. How rude could he be? It was a simple question, he didn’t need to be so short about it. His avoidance only made him the more suspicious, and he was sure to understand that.

Maybe, she realized, she was only so frustrated because she wasn’t able to get anything out of him. He was still a mystery, and having an unknown in the town made her nervous to carry out her plan tonight.

No, she would still go through with it. It had to be tonight. He would be gone in the morning, and he might never come back. She had already made up her mind about it, and she wasn’t going to let some brute change that.

“How’s it going out there?” Lucy asked. “You look upset. Did the boys get too handsy?”

Rivy shook her head. “It’s nothing, Lucy. The boys are harmless, it’s that newcomer I’m worried about.”

“I know what you mean. It’s a little scary, but I don’t mind. Maybe he’ll show the boys around here what real men are like, eh?” She said with a grin. “Speaking of men, how about that Thomas? Has he made his move yet? It’s his last night, you know.”

“No, no. I mean, yes, he tried. I’m just not interested.”

Lucy pouted. “It’s not going to get much better than him. He’s a handsome lad, and a right proper gentleman. Or, perhaps, you’d like a little danger, instead?”

Rivy tried to ignore the girl as she rambled on, occasionally nodding or chuckling when she paused for a response. She couldn’t engage her, there was too much in her mind already. A cup almost slipped out of her hand, slick with sweat.

She was getting nervous.

 

In the latest hours of the night, the inn had begun closing down. Lucy had shown the stranger up to his room. Thomas had made one more desperate, slurred plea for Rivy to spend the night with him, but eventually left with his mates supporting him on their walk home. Aldo had his face on the bar, and was snoring loudly as the barkeep finished cleaning the rest of the cups.

Rivy passed by as the barkeep stood behind Aldo, trying to get his arms under his, to drag him out.

“Ah, don’t worry about him tonight. Lucy and I will get him.”

The barkeep sighed and let his shoulders drop in relief. “Ah, you girls are a blessing. It’s a strain on my back, carrying this sod out to the barn each night. Are you sure you’ve got him?”

“Of course.” She said, bidding him goodnight.

Lucy had left just before, but that didn’t matter. She just had to drag him to the woods, and that wasn’t far off at all. She pulled her coat on, wrapped her scarf around her, and was about to lift him up, when one of the steps creaked.

“Ah, he’s passed out?” The stranger called, coming down the stairs. “Does he have a room?”

She couldn’t believe her misfortune. She just knew this stranger was going to find a way to ruin this. She was so close, too!

No, she could still do this. She just needed to turn the man down.

“I can get him. This is usual for him.” She said.

“What’s his name?” He asked.

Why are you being so persistent? Go away!

“Aldo. We call him ‘Aldo the Drunk’, he’s always like this. I’m used to handling it on my own.”

The man was walking towards her. “On your own? Didn’t you just tell the barkeep the other waitress was going to help you?”

“You were eavesdropping?” She snapped.

“Just happened to hear as I came out of my room.”

“What are you doing up so late?”

“I don’t sleep much. Here, let me help you.”

“I told you, I’ve got it.”

They locked eyes for a moment, and she swallowed hard. There was something about his expression just then, a flash of intense anger, but he forced it down quickly, turning it to a stone cold look that was impossible to read.

He threw up his hands, and took a step back. “Have it your way, miss. Just be careful.” The way he emphasized the last words seemed odd, but she was excited that he was backing off, and didn’t want to draw him back in, so she didn’t ask further.

She watched him all the way up the stairs, until his door closed shut behind him. Then, she got to work. Sliding her hands under his. Lifting. Pulling. Nearly knocking over a chair. She had to pull him in short bursts. He was heavier than she thought he’d be, but she was thankful he wasn’t any heavier. She wouldn’t have been able to drag a man like Thomas, or gods forbid, that stranger, very far.

In the street, she checked over and over, up and down, to make sure nobody was following. Nobody was looking. Nobody was watching.

Then she turned away from the barn, and began making her way towards the edge of the woods, pulling him along and leaving a thin trail through the snow. She was so close, now. So close to putting into action the plan she had been dreaming of for years.

No, she had already begun putting it into action, the moment she turned off the road. Everything was already in motion.

He grumbled, and she nearly dropped him.

“Ugh, that hurts.” He grumbled.

She stopped for a second, but he didn’t struggle against her, or attempt to move. When he didn’t say more, she resumed, dragging him past the treeline and into the woods. They were officially outside of the town now.

“This ain’t the barn.” He said, swinging his head around to look at the bush he was in.

She laid him down, and brought the knife out, but kept it behind her back.

This is it, she thought. She was glad he was awake, actually. She wanted him to know who she was. Wanted him to know what was happening. Why it was happening.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Aldo.” He grunted. “What’s yours?”

“Riviera Bennett. Does that sound familiar?”

He paused for a moment, but then shook his head. “Nope.”

“Think hard, Alexandar.”

He stopped his swaying instantly.

“I want you to really think about the name Bennett. See if you can’t pull some memory out of that wicked head of yours. Hopefully the drink hasn’t washed them all away. I want you to remember my father’s face as you die.

She pulled the knife out and held it in both hands, ready to plunge it into him, to kill this man.

“I want you to say his name!” She shouted, the adrenaline pumping through her.

“I remember your father. Rolf Bennett, right?” He said. “Now what? You gonna kill me, bitch?”

It was time. It was the moment. She would thrust the blade into him, twist it around, hear his cries of agony, like the ones he made her father cry out years ago on their floor. She just had to move her arms.

She just had to move.

“What’s the matter, bitch? Lost your nerve? Don’t have it in you?” He began shuffling, trying to get to his feet.

This was it. This was her only chance. She had to do it now. He deserved it.

He deserves it. He killed your father. Why won’t you move?

“Ha! You must be cold.” He said. “You’re trembling.” He got to his unsteady feet, his bloodshot eyes on the knife. His laugh died out, and when the echo faded, his smile faded too.

“I thought, maybe it’s my time. Maybe, I deserve to die. We did some horrible things. Your father was only one of many. I just couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why I’ve been hiding up here, drinking the days away, waiting to die.”

He threw himself forward, grabbing her wrists and throwing her onto her back. She tried to move, but he pinned her down.

“But I realized something, when I saw that knife there. I’m not ready to die! I don’t want to die! I want to live!” He shouted at her, his spit spraying down onto her face.

He kicked the knife away, pressed his knee into her stomach, and then wrapped his hands around her neck. He squeezed, and pushed down, so tightly she thought he was going to crush her.

No screams came out, no matter how hard she tried. She clawed at him, and kicked out, but he only pressed down hard, until there was no air left in her.

Her vision blurred, tears streamed down her face.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of! I’m the great Alexandar Swift! I’m not going to let some bitch like you kill me!” He screamed.

“How about someone like me?”

Her vision went black.

No, it wasn’t black. It was red. There was red everywhere.

The pressure on her neck weakened, and then he pulled his knee from her stomach, and laid down on top of her.

Not all of him, though.

She wiped something out of her eyes, and was faced with the open, bleeding neck of Alexandar. His head was on the ground behind them, half buried in the red-stained snow.

Her throat was too sore to scream, but she was surprised to find that she hadn’t really wanted to. She was relieved, calm, and more than anything, satisfied. She rolled his limp body off of her, and turned around to find her savior.

The stranger from before stood in front of her, wielding his mighty sword, dripping blood into the snow. He was wearing a helmet, but he had on the same steel armor she had seen before. He stood as a symbol to her, then, in his combat stance. Her hero.

He sat on a log and removed his helmet, and began wiping off his blade with a cloth. She realized something she had been too blind to notice earlier.

The moonlight filtered in through the trees, and caught his face. His hair had been dyed black, but his cold, blue eyes burned as brightly as they had the day her father had been murdered.

She recognized him.

“I know you.” She said, coughing. “Why didn’t I see it before?”

You were so concerned with Alexandar, here. I was afraid I wasn’t going to get my chance tonight, you know. You almost ruined things for me. But bringing him out into the woods here, not bad.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.” She said, trying to get to her feet.

He put his foot on Alexandar’s head. “I’m sure that’s what he would say, too, if he still had a head.” He turned to her, standing against the light of the moon so his features were hidden, cast in shadows. Only his cold, blue eyes stared down at her.

He had looked to her like a hero just moments ago. Now, he looked more sinister. Like a monster. Though, maybe that’s because she knew what he was.

“I’m Caliburn, though I think you knew that already. It seems like you want to hunt down the people who killed your father. How convenient!” He said, and a cruel smile crept across his face. “I think we could help each other.”