I fail…

Time had slowed, crawling by glacially.

Jack was running towards Merial, even as the knight drew back his sword for a horizontal slash. No. Not just a slash. A slash augmented by Skill. Brom could see it in his posture. The way he set his feet. His fight was with him, but the knight was going to put an end to the distraction that was Jack. All because the Keeper chose to stand by him.

This was friendship. This was loyalty, even in the face of unbeatable odds.

This was what she should have shown long ago.

Jack hunched, preparing to jump up and out with a piercing strike. The knight started moving even as he opened his mouth.

I fail… NEVER AGAIN.

“|Target of Enmity|!” roared Brom, just as the knight yelled his own Skill.

“|Cleaving Arc|” he said, though his eyes were transfixed on Brom.

Both Skills worked, though only one as its owner intended. Merial’s Skill improved his sword’s slash, making it wider, longer, the arc almost visible in the air as an after-image. But Brom’s Skill worked too. It transplanted the knight’s focus just enough to transform a killing blow into a ‘merely’ life-threatening one.

Jack fell to the ground, a deep slash on his abdomen, bleeding profusely.

“Jack!” someone screamed from the crowd. Multiple someone’s.

The villagers were in a literal riot, yet the knight’s Skill still held them back.

“Let the boy go, knight!” Brom said. “I’m your opponent, not him.”

“How… what trickery is this?” he said, face contorting while looking at him.

Ah. That must be my second Skill flaring to life.

|Repulsing Visage|. It didn’t change Brom physically, not did it cause others to flee in terror, but it did make it harder to look at him. Harder to face him. It came back up as soon as he stopped repressing it. Good.

“Let him go and I’ll tell you.”

The man grimaced again, but spoke.

“Fine. You, woman. Come here and take him.”

In seconds, Elia rushed inside the invisible circle, retrieving Jack and carrying him to safety.

It was all Brom could do to hope she could take care of him. She was a capable woman. She stopped Mrk from being assaulted. She will close Jack’s wound. She had to.

Brom felt… free. There was an odd little smile gracing his lips, as he strapped his shield tighter to his wrist and held up his axe. He had fought against his own Class for so long. How free it felt to finally have a good use for it.

He felt like a warrior again.

He felt like a friend.

“Say your piece, dwarf. That was not the Skill of an |Axe Guard|.” the knight said, raising his sword.

“I believe I already did. My name if Brom Oathbreaker. I am an |Oathbreaker|. That is also my Class.”

“So you’re a traitor even among your own kind. What a disgrace.”

“Would you have felt better to kill me if you thought I was respected by my kin?” Brom asked amused.

The knight took Brom’s lightheartedness for mockery.

“Your words will die with you, dwarf!”

Saying that, Merial charged. So did Brom. They met in a clash. The knight was still stronger, still faster. His sword left dents and marks in Brom’s shield. His gauntlet battered away his axe. Yet he held his own. To outside observers it looked like he had found a second wind. Some thought that Jack might have been a bigger hindrance to him than they previously thought. That the need to look after him acted as a handicap to the dwarf |Axe Guard|.

The truth was much feebler. Much simpler too. For the first time in many days, Brom fought without burden. His axe came straight up, catching a glancing blow to the knight’s chin. The rim of his shield caught Merial in the chest, pushing him back. He used that opening and shoulder-charged the knight, sending him backward a few steps. And still he pressed on. Merial’s sword came up in a block, yet he used his axe as a hook and dragged it away from the knight. He jumped forward, headbutting the knight and heard the satisfying crunch of a broken nose.

Eye for an eye.

Enraged, the knight resumed his balance and tried to catch Brom in a clinch. Fool he, to try and get close to the dwarf.

“Look at me!” yelled Brom.

He did or at least try to, before he had to yank his eyes away from Brom’s face.

Thought so.

He used that moment of hesitation too, the rim of his shield shooting forward and landing a glancing blow to the knight’s side. He couldn’t win. He knew that. Even by using both his Classes, the one he loved and the one he hated, the knight was simply superior. Yet he knew Merial didn’t consider him worthy of his Skill. That was the advantage. With enough luck, he may land a serious enough blow for the fight to end in a stalemate.

Both himself and his friend would get to live. Wouldn’t that be the dream?

Merial pushed himself away and raised his sword. His face betrayed his next action.

Impulsive. You’re letting me see your next moves.

“|Sundering Cut|”

Merial’s sword came down like the blade of an angry God. The air itself was pushed back by the force of the blow. It struck exactly where Merial wanted, exactly where he saw Brom would be. It must have been a high-level Skill, for when it stuck, the earth itself got split in two for a few feet. The earth, not Brom.

He was standing a few feet to side and back, watching the knight with an intent expression.

“How… why did I miss? What did you do, dwarf?” Merial snarled.

“We are both intitled to our Skills. Was that your best one?”

Merial stepped backward, taking a more defensive stance.

“You are just a Level 3 |Axe Guard|. An |Oatbreaker| Class shouldn’t provide martial Skills. You have lied.”

“I did not. But Skills not of a martial nature could be used martially, if less effectively. As the brave lad you just cut down has shown.”

“Filthy Jacks for filthy dwarfs.” Merial spat.

Brom frowned, but continued to speak.

“|False Intent| is not exactly made for battle. But it helps in deluding weak knights who fight for a weak lord.”

Exactly as Brom intended, Merial charged forward roaring. A good thing about knights in general is that they take their loyalty to their rulers seriously. They would die for their kings and emperors and a number of them do. This loyalty extends to words spoken of them, as they cannot and will not suffer insults to their name. A bad thing about them is the exact same thing. Their loyalty is admirable, but in those too unexperienced, it provides an easy way of goading.

The knight stepped forward, sword’s tip aiming to take out Brom’s eye in a fencer’s attack, but was deflected by Brom’s shield. That earned him one step forward. He had earned a few wounds in this battle so far and he was acutely aware of the loss of blood. But the step forward was all that mattered.

Merial drew his sword back and spoke.

“|Multiple Stabs|”

His sword jumped out like a knife, hitting numerous spots in just a few seconds. A few scored wounds to Brom’s side and shoulder. The rest were blocked by his shield. That earned him another step.

Merial was now forced to attack only from the sides, stepping backwards slower than Brom was stepping forward.

 

Without any sign of what he planned to do, Brom dropped to one knee drawing back his axe.

“|Quick Slash|!”

The knight jumped. He had to or Brom’s axe would have taken his legs off. However, the hit never came. Instead, Brom waited until Merial was in the air, before slashing straight up, right at Merial’s unprotected forearm.

It would have been nice if his axe cut had cut the arm off. It would have been nice even if it had hit an artery and caused a major wound. What it managed to do was score a deep cut. Not deep enough to be dangerous, but deep enough to keep him from using that hand again.

And most importantly, that cut needed to be looked after with a potion or the damage would become permanent and would hinder the knight for life.

To his credit, even if the entire affair lasted for merely a couple of seconds, the knight rallied and came down with his sword crashing on Brom’s shield.

They both drew back, one bleeding from a dozen wounds, the other with an incapacitated hand.

“That Class of yours allows you to fake Skills?!” the knight half-asked, half shouted.

Brom said nothing.

It wasn’t common knowledge, but naming Skills out loud didn’t automatically activate them. That was a matter of intent.

And now comes the moment when you decide.

Merial wasn’t inexperienced, that much Brom knew. Proud, bigoted, but not inexperienced. He had to use subterfuge and the Skills of an almost unknown Class to even get this far. The knight could still win, could still kill him, but it would take him precious time to do it and might lose the use of an arm for that. Brom was out of time too, as he felt himself become dizzy from the blood loss. Sheer will was all that was keeping him standing.

Come now. I’m just a lowly dwarf. No reason to lose a hand for me.

“This village… Argh! Jack’s and dwarfs and stupid villagers! You deserve nothing! And you dwarf! By my honor, you die today!” he roared challengingly, coming forward with his sword held in one hand.

Damn it. So be it then.

Brom fell down to his knees, shield falling on the ground and axe buried head deep in the ground.

“By my honor, I hereby make my vow. I, Brom Oathbreaker, pledge my life into the service of the Lord of Ameron. I will take no gifts and receive no payment, I will accept all duties and fight all his foes. My life I give freely and without question into his hands. By my honor, so mote it be.”

The world stopped. You could have heard a butterfly flying in the silence that lingered after those passing words. The crowd of villagers was quiet, after it had been howling for so long. The knight himself looked shocked. That was one of the accepted vows of allegiance that was being used in the kingdom of Amenor. For a dwarf to pledge his life to his kingdom… that was unheard of. Never has it happened before, in the history of both their people.

Merial should have shunned his vow. His name was Brom Oathbreaker. It was in his very name. And yet, the knight looked touched. As if trying to decide if such a pledge, a vow for life, would make up for him being a dwarf and for all the ‘atrocities’ his people committed.

Merial stepped forward, sword going back to his scabbard.

“Your sins are many, dwarf. But I see the truth in you. You wish to pledge your life to my Lord, to make up for the sins of your people.”

“I do.”

“I see.” Merial said nodding, before offering him a hand to get up. “Know this, Brom Oathbreaker. Your sins are not forgotten. Not yet. But you are now a dwarf of Amenor and we are brothers in arms.”

With a grunt, he pulled him up.

“|Quick Slash|”.

One of Brom’s hands was held by the knight, the other on his axe. Which had just removed a part of Merial’s leg, everything under his left knee departing the rest of his body. He didn’t even manage to scream, as Brom pulled him to the ground and kicked him in the face, before stealing his sword.

“This time I wasn’t faking it.”

“H-how…?” the knight croaked.

“I have already given you one lesson in how Skills are used, knight. I will not give you a second.”

He walked away, limping himself and bleeding from so many wounds. He did not fault the knight. He knew how his Skill worked. Not the Skill of a warrior, but that of a liar. |The Broken Oath|. Merial wasn’t high level enough to resist it, even as his pledge screamed of lies and deceit. He was ashamed of himself, but proud as well. He was ashamed of what he had become, of what he continued to become.  But proud, for both Mrk and Jack were alive, though wounded. Proud because they were all alive.

You have taken me in, Jack. For you, I would forget my shame.

He collapsed on the ground just as soon the invisible barrier collapsed, Merial’s Skill fading away as the knight lost consciousness. He had at last found something to protect.

I didn’t fail.

 

|Class Level Raised: Axe Guard|

|Class Level: 4|

 

|Class Level Raised: Oathbreaker|

|Class Level: 12|

 

***

Brom got hit by wakefulness like a sledgehammer. He was disoriented for the first few seconds. His hands clutched, looking to firmly grab an axe and shield that weren’t there. It took him a moment to realize he was no longer facing an opponent, that he wasn’t armed or armored and that he was currently lying in a bed, inside a well-lit room.

“Finally up, are you?”

He looked to his right and saw Jack laying on his own bed, a thick bandage wrapped around his mid-section. It was stained red where his stomach should be.

“Yeah, that knight kind of got the best of me.” He said, poking his bandage before wincing.

“You were hurt.” Brom said.

“We were all hurt. I think you got hurt the worst, though.”

“No. I saw you get cut, Jack. I feared for your life.”

“Feared for my life myself, for a second there. Before I blacked out.” He laughed, before wincing again. “Thanks, by the way. For using that Skill. Lola told me it saved my life.”

“I only wished it could have spared you that wound. I should have used it earlier.”

“Eh, I know you used it when you thought it best. Don’t sweat it.”

Brom furrowed his brows. He tried to get in a sitting position, but the act of trying told him that he was hurt too. The movement caused all manner of patched up wounds on his body to flare up. Even so, he thought.

I must tell him. He is the Keeper. And my friend. I cannot hold my sins secret from him.

“No. I didn’t use it before because I was ashamed. Not because I thought it best.”

“Ashamed? Why?”

“I… have a second Class.”

“|Oathbreaker|”.

Brom startled as he looked at Jack.

“Elia told me. You’ve been out a whole lot longer than I was.”

“I see. Yes, that is my Class. I… I must tell you the reason of why I have received it. You deserve to know.” He said, sighing.

“Hey, Brom? I kind of get the feel that you think I have a right to know. But I don’t. Like, really, I don’t. You told me before that you didn’t wish to tell it to me. I don’t think you want to do it now either, you just feel you owe it to me. Am I right so far?”

Brom nodded.

“Well, you don’t. Owe it to me, that is. Tell it to me when you feel it’s right. Maybe around a campfire with Mrk and good food around.” He grinned.

“…and you would trust me until then? Even though my very Class is |Oathbreaker|?”

Jack thought for a second, before responding.

“It doesn’t look to me like you like that Class at all. I can tell you’re ashamed by it… and by what happened. I don’t know what went on, but I don’t think you’d do anything to us. Maybe I’m an idiot… no, I know I’m sometimes an idiot, but I do trust you. Gut feeling and all that.”

Brom was silent for some time before replying.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Oh, and Brom?”

“Yes Jack?”

“I mean, maybe you should change your name? Or at least stop mentioning it? Everybody already knows, but I don’t think it’s good to remind them that the Class you hate is also your name. Why did you take it, anyway?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, though Brom could tell he was doing it more for comedic relief, than true confusion.

Despite himself, Brom laughed.

“The Class or the name?” he smiled. “The Class I didn’t take. It was imposed on me, after what I had done. The punishment inflicted on me by my people, for the… oaths I had broken.”

“Like what happened to Lola.” Jack said, face darkening.

“What happened to Lola was an injustice, brought upon by the weakness in human hearts. What happened to me… was just. I suffer for it, but I cannot deny that.” He said, sincerely.

“Oh.”

“I will tell you of my Class, Jack, if you would hear it. I will not tell you of how I got it, not yet. But I feel that I can talk about the Class.”

“Sure thing, Brom.”

“This Class is a cursed Class. |Oathbreaker|. It is a Class born out of broken promises and tarnished honor. Its Skills are not a warrior’s Skills. They are those of a scoundrel, based in lies and deceit. I hate it, Jack. I have found no use for it and refused to use its Skills. That it, I refused it up to this day, when I reached for it in order to protect you.” He said, looking at Jack.

“Sorry.” He said, wincing. “It was a stupid plan. I though it would help us drag him to the muck, so to speak, but we got more than we asked for. I’m sorry that my idea forced you to use the Class you hate.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Jack. The plan was good. Goading an enemy into unwise actions is one of the tenets of fighting. I agreed with your plan, you must remember. Our sole mistake lay in underappreciating the strength of our opponent. That and his hate for my kind.” He sighed. “I only hoped we would have managed to help Elia.”

“Oh, we did.” Laughed Jack, before wincing in pain. “Fuck, this hurts. I’ll tell you later, don’t worry.”

“I see. Then… as I said, this is a Class born out of breaking vows. And it continues to Level for each day that I draw breath. My very existence is an affront and so this parasite of a Class grows, feeding off the memory of the oath I have broken and my continued penance. It is why I chose to repress it. To never use it.”

“So that you wouldn’t Level it?”

Brom nodded.

“I have taken the Class as my name. I have it as an eternal memory of my failings. I do not wish for it to grow. Even today, after I had used its Skills for the first time in so many days, it leveled. I started the day as a Level 11 |Oathbreaker|. I am now Level 12.”

Jack nodded, but said nothing.

“Yet… there has been a change. I still hate it and would do much to be rid of it. But it has helped me save you. For that, I would allow it. And… my curse has a second side. Haven’t you found it curious, Jack, that my |Axe Guard| Class was only Level 3?”

“Uh, I did… a little. I just thought that maybe you didn’t have a lot of experience fighting?”

Brom sniffed, but was still amused.

“I have quite a lot of experience, though my age is young. I was Level 9 in this Class, before my fall. Yet, this Class is tied in to guarding. It is a protector’s Class. My sins have seen me exiled from my people, shunned by my kin. Who was I to guard? And so, though I have trained and sparred, my Class withered away. Until this day.” He said, a light appearing in his eyes.

“Woah, slow down, Brom. I didn’t even know Classes could Level down. You’re saying it went back up?”

He nodded.

“It did. Because I have finally found something to protect. You and Mrk and the Refuge. Perhaps even Helmrest. I will protect all those who are and all those who will come. You have given me refuge, Keeper. I will never forget it.”

That was quite a lot of emotion in so many words from the dwarf. Enough that it left Jack too shocked to wave away the tension with a bad joke.

Must have been the blood loss.

“Brom, you’re overselling me here. I haven’t given you that much.”

“Your trust is enough, Jack.”

“Fair enough, I guess. Thank you, Brom. For your protection.” He smiled.

“Thank you, Jack, for the same.”

“So, want me to tell you what happened after you blacked out?” Jack asked, changing the uncomfortably emotional subject.

Brom nodded. He was interested himself, though now that he knew everybody was safe, he didn’t harbor any great concerns.

“Well, I got the story from Elia and she was really angry, even after I came back around. After you made the knight allow Elia to take me, she closed my wound with this potion. She also got some of the people to resist Mr. Winnow’s Skills, so she could save Mrk.”

“His… Skills?”

“Right. Too much stuff happened, sorry. So, from the start. Apparently, after that barrier came down, people started to come and stare, since it was this big thing that happened. That man who I yelled at told them how it started, that the knight attacked us without any reason.” He said, winking.

Brom just nodded.

“So, while you and I fought, Mrk was getting his tail handed to him by Louis and his goons. Mr. Winnow showed up not long after and used some speech Skills to keep people from helping him. He also tried to make it seem like the knight was fighting a honor-duel and that we were in the wrong. Fucker.”

“I believe that would be hard to believe.”

“It was! Plus, Elia said that people have started to have a really bad opinion of Mr. Winnow and that helped them resist his Skills… somewhat. They were too angry and started threatening him, so Elia used them to get to Mrk. It was an entire verbal fight that went on in the background. But she won and not only is Mrk alright, the people’s opinion has majorly changed.” He said, grinning.

“Where is Mrk?” Brom asked.

“With Lola, helping her. He actually got to be healed by potions and he wasn’t badly hurt, so he’s in top shape.”

“I see. But, weren’t we healed by potions too?”

“That’s the thing. Elia had a health potion on her and she poured it on my wound. But she didn’t rush me to her shop for more, since it wasn’t alright to move me and… well, it looked like you might have needed one soon too.”

“I see. She has my thanks. She might have been right.”

“Yup. But, guess what? After you sliced Merial’s leg off, Mr. Winnow started bellowing about him and cursing us. He ordered his goons, the big ones, not the kids following Louis, to grab a hold of you and me, saying that we doomed him and this village. They didn’t get to do that, since Elia and her followers protected us, but then Mr. Winnow stormed off to Elia’s shop and raided the place. They stole every healing… thing! Potions, creams, everything. All to help attach Merial’s leg back.”

“Did they manage to do it?”

“I don’t know. Elia didn’t stick around to see, she was too busy making something for you from scratch. She said it was a close call. You bled to much by that point. …fuck that man. I am so done with being decent, just because he had a lot of muscle power around him.”

Brom used the time to check on his body. He noticed that most of him was bandaged, from his arms to the torso.

How close to death did I came?

“Still, you lived, I lived, Mrk lived. That’s one benefit. The second benefit is that Mr. Winnow’s actions were the final straw in the villagers’ hats. Elia managed to convince more than half of them that elections should be held as fast as possible. They’ll decide on the Village Head in two days.” He grinned.

“I see. It was not for nothing then. We came close to dying and Ms. Elia’s shop was raided, but we achieved what we set out to do. Good.” He said, smiling honestly.

It wasn’t the same as upholding one’s vow, but it felt good. Like feeling the first ray of sunshine after the storm. Perhaps things really were changing.

“You know,” Jack said “you never really got around to telling me about your name. Why take Oathbreaker as a last name?”

“It is tradition.” Brom answered simply. “I have committed a great sin and in exchange, apart from my punishment, I would take that sin unto myself. So that others may know of it and recognize me for what I am.”

It was simple for Brom. Logical. But Jack looked sick at hearing it.

“And for how long do you have to carry it?”

“Until my debt is repaid. Or my sins forgotten. Possibly never.” He said.

That thought brought pain to Brom. Yet he didn’t waver. It was his weight to bear. He must.

Jack looked at him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Hey Brom… you said Classes change, right? As in, they decrease, if you don’t to what they’re supposed to help you do… or if you don’t use their Skills?”

“The former more than the latter, but yes.”

“So, is there any way you could act that would decrease the Level of your |Oathbreaker| Class?”

“…I have never thought much about it, other than at the very start. But I think the only way would be for me to keep an oath. I know some things, Jack, but Class lore is an oft forgotten one. That is only my guess.”

“Right. But, still, you could use it, right?”

Brom had to laugh. This question itself didn’t bring him pain. The childish sincerity of it was respectable.

“I could, Jack. But who would take an oath from me? My very Skills allow me to fake them.”

“I would.” He answered simply.

Brom’s face slackened and fell. He looked at Jack, truly looked at him, to find any sign of a joke. He didn’t. He didn’t expect too, but he still searched.

“Jack… accepting an oath is not a simple matter of words. Not from my race, at least. Out oaths are made of the same things that lay at the heart of mountains. When one is broken… it is perilous for both the one that promised and the one who was promised too.”

“Alright. So, promise me something.”

 “Jack.” Brom said, voice growing serious. “You know not of what you speak. If I break this vow… you would suffer. It’s not magic, not exactly, but it’s something more. It is not a thing to take on lightly.”

“Brom. I trust you. That’s all there is to it. And you won’t betray me. I trust that too. Whatever oath you want to take, I will receive it.”

Brom couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yet there was no sign of insincerity on Jack’s face. None in his voice. He almost believed that Jack, as usual, didn’t know what he was getting himself into. But that wasn’t the answer… no, it wasn’t that he didn’t know. He just didn’t care. For Brom, he would receive any oath.

Fathers of my fathers, is this right?

Brom was moved. Yet there was nothing else to do, but continue stepping forward. Jack offered him a true chance at redemption. His sins will not be forgotten, but perhaps they would be forgiven. He though about what he could swear and though back at the events from earlier in the day.

Yes. For such kindness, nothing else could be given.

“I am Brom. I reject my last name. I am an |Oathbreaker|, but it is my wish to be free of my sin. For you Jack, the Keeper of the Refuge, you who have given me safety, friendship, trust. For you and your Refuge I will pledge my life. To always protect you and yours, to always act at your command, to be in your service, until you release me or Death does. To you, Jack, I GIVE MY OATH!”

 

|Class Level Decreased: Oathbreaker|

|Class Level: 11|