Arc 1 Chapter 3 – Teatime At Midnight
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We'd put a good amount of distance between us and the corpses by the time night fell. There was a bit of a discussion amongst the drivers that they wanted to keep going, but Elias put an end to that. So we all gathered once again to pitch tents and rest.

Shorty was the person who handled talking to the merchant. As they discussed what'd happened I focused on pushing away the memories of the day, as I'd been taught in my training to never linger. That was why I put my mind on the task of setting up my own tent and campfire.

Once Shorty rejoined us the four of us gathered and started to talk next to a fire pit. Shorty explained that the plan was still the same, and we'd keep pushing to Vicna. Skara snorted at that as he crouched next to the fire.

A silence had started that began to irritate me, and so I finally spoke, "Do you usually run into animals like that?"

Skara shook his head. "No. By the way, I saw you using something weird earlier, what was that?"

I lifted my left wrist up, the silver loops on it clinking together. "A present from my mother a few years back, she called it a Shatterblade."

"A soul tool? You sure you're not some rich man's kid?"

I looked off to the forest instead of answering that question. I had no need nor wish to explain how I'd run away from home to the other three. Thankfully Skara caught on to that and turned his attention to Green-Eye.

"What were those things?" Skara asked of that silent figure.

Green-Eye turned his head to look at us, his eye glimpsed momentarily from the darkness of the hood. "On the other side of the continent a man named Falken Martins explored the north-western forests. Does that help?"

Skara frowned, as did I, but Shorty gasped in surprise. "Falken Cats? The Falks? I thought those things only lived over there!"

"Falken Cats? What, this guy found them so they named them after him?" Skara asked as he laughed, "or did he name them after himself, all narcissitic?"

"They ate him while his guides watched on in horror," the calm voice came again from Green-Eye. He looked up at the skies, then turned without warning and walked away.

I watched him leave, feeling as though looking away might leave an opening I'd regret. "That man...is scary."

"That's not shocking, I'm thinking he's hiding something important," Shorty said as he stood up and brushed off his pants, "I'll leave first watch to you two, I'm going to bother the mystery man all night and see if I can't crack him."

I mentally thanked Shorty for taking on that task, as I had no interest in standing guard with Green-Eye again. Skara and I sat near the fire pit, and for the first time since I'd met him he didn't smile nor speak. I could tell the deaths of our companions weighed on him more than he might express.

"So much for proving something," I grumbled to myself.

Though I had a badge with seven stars I didn't feel as though I'd properly earned it. When I contracted with the Guild they looked at my training, family, and equipment and decided to give me that many. Yet I was seventeen and that was far too many stars for that age.

So far I'd tried my best to maintain not only my pride but also my image, and I'd relied on the stories I'd read about as a child. If I could I'd be like my father, the only man in the entire Empire who everyone knew, but I doubted that I could ever achieve his granduer. No one fought Vandross if they could choose otherwise, but I was a completely other story.

Skara stood up, his hand tightened about the handle of his sword which he lifted onto his shoulder. "Get some rest kid, I'll only need your help if I'm screaming like a baby."

Alone and near the flames I curled up and wrapped my arms around my legs. I could still hear the sound of Lance screaming, and as I fell asleep the dreams I had were far from kind.

♪ ♫ ♬ ♫ ♪

The third day began the same as the other two. However since we'd lost Anya and Lance our vanguard formation had become a bit more spread out, and Shorty took on the role of scout. He vanished into the forest without a sound, and try as I might I could never see him.

Skara had me sit on the wagon to help guard the driver, while Green-Eye and him walked ahead and to the sides. Skara had his sword on his shoulder and tense, but Green-Eye didn't even have a weapon readied in case of a fight. Rather he walked with a casual look, and I couldn't resist glaring at him.

"Doesn't he remember how those people died yesterday?" the driver asked me.

"He's an idiot, that's why," I told the driver as I continued to glare at Green-Eye. He'd been lucky the day before since he could've hit me with the arrow. If anything his reckless way of attacking the Falken had only worsened my opinion of him.

By the time the mid-day break happened there'd been no attacks. Shorty paced back and forth along the convoy while we all ate, a piece of jerky hanging from his mouth. He twirled his long daggers as he stepped past people, and no sign of fatigue had even shown yet.

Skara never stopped holding his sword. Even when he ate some bread and meat he cradled the weapon carefully, so if anything happened he could defend himself. When I attempted to talk to him he shooed me away, his gaze locked permanently on the forest nearby.

Green-Eye ate freely, he even dared to eat far away from the rest of us and close to the edge of the path. He faced away from the trees, though who or what he was actually looking at was a mystery due to the nature of his hood.

The afternoon crawled by with all of us permanently stuck in alert mode. When it was roughly at the time that the last attack had happened the tension became even worse, to the point that even the horses were spooked. Everyone except for Green-Eye.

When the evening came we started to once again ready for the dark. By the third night everyone already knew what was expected of them, and as the wagoners once more demonstrated their capability at deploying the tents, I and the rest of the vanguard talked about night watch. Or rather three of us did as Green-Eye continued to demonstrate an aloof attitude.

"I'll take the first watch," Skara offered as he ran a cloth down the length of his sword. "I'm still a little amped up."

"I'll join you," Shorty offered, as he glanced at Green-Eye, "I tried talking to him last night, but he didn't even stay nearby. He vanished halfway through the shift. If I'm stuck with him again I might do something regrettable."

I complained, but neither budged on their preference of night watch, and so I was stuck once more with the silent man.

♪ ♫ ♬ ♫ ♪

When Skara slumped into the tent and tagged me to wake up, I was half tempted to ignore him and keep on sleeping. However that inner sense of pride required me to stand up and do my duty, so I left the tent and went out to the nearby fire pit.

What greeted me was that dark figure, crouched near the flames. Every so often the flickering light of the flames would illuminate traces of his face, almost as though teasing me with hints as to what he looked like. I walked over and sat down on the damp ground, not wasting time with words.

An hour went by and neither of us had talked. I already knew trying to talk to him would result in nothing. So as I sat there and waited out the quiet night. What joy I could get I gained by looking at the stars.

"Falken Cat packs operate within their own territory, never sharing, groups are usually about three to five in size with a single strong male."

Confused I looked to the source of the words, the mysterious Green-Eye, and tried to figure out something to say in response. In the end all of my training and learning resulted in a single word, "Huh?"

"You and the others were tensed up all day for no reason," Green-Eye calmly stated, "tell them for me. I hate repeating myself."

Any further talking came to a stop as Warren walked over, carrying a silver plate in his hands. On it were two teacups that still steamed with warmth. "Good evening," he said to us with a smile.

I nodded my head in greeting, "Hello, what's the matter?"

Warren put the tray on the ground near us. "My master wanted to apologize for the poor food, he didn't realize how little Fisk would have to offer. So I made some tea for you two, as a way of apology. Please enjoy it. It's Shianti tea."

I'd never had nor heard of that type of tea, but I accepted it graciously by picking up the cup even as I stated my thanks to the man. What shocked me most of all was that Green-Eye also picked up the cup and promptly drank from it. He grunted, then put the cup down.

Warren gave a little bow, and then he headed back in the direction of the carriage. He had a pleasant aura, and he made me wish I had a brother or sister.

As he vanished from sight I inhaled the scent of the tea. It was warmth incarnate as it spread throughout and over my body like a balm. I relaxed, eyes locked onto the surface of the pale white tea. "Shianti, huh, I should get some the next time I'm at a market..."

All concerns about Green-Eye were gone and the tension of the day had disappeared. The fact that we'd be back on the road in the morning didn't matter. I sat there with half-closed eyes and smiled, lifting the cup to my mouth.

"Run," Green-Eye said without explanation next to me.

When I turned to ask him what he meant I found fingers curled around my throat. I choked a little and flailed, the cup of tea splashing over his body. When I lifted my hand to summon my Shatterblade he did something even more unexpected.

Green-Eye had lifted me up into the air and thrown me, his movements almost casual as he tossed me fifteen feet away. The first thing I hit was a tree trunk, my right shoulder and head taking the brunt of the blow. My consciousness fell away, and in those last moments before my eyes closed all I could do was berate myself for trusting the monster.

♪ ♫ ♬ ♫ ♪

I woke up and had no idea how long I'd been asleep. There was still no daylight, so it was either less than a few hours or a whole day. The wet ground beneath me let me know I was where I'd fallen before. The pain in my shoulder and head were more than enough to tell me that I was still very much alive.

My eyes were unfocused, and I attempted to stand up. The response from my body was even more pain, as well as a wave of nausea. I hunched over and vomited all over the forest floor. I could feel my eyes tearing up as I continued to throw up, while the world started to whirl around me.

As I put out one hand to use a tree for support I felt something wet sliding down my cheek. I rubbed my cheek against my left arm, trying my best to not use my right shoulder, and I saw a blotch of red smear.

It didn't make any sense that I was still alive. If he'd wanted to kill me he should've had plenty of time, since we'd been alone. When I looked down at my clothing everything seemed to be how I'd had it, and that only added to my confusion.

With a somewhat unsteady gaze I sought out the traitor. From my place amongst the trees I could see something that only furthered my confusion. Green-Eye had fallen over onto the ground near the fire, and the only part of him that moved was his chest.

I took a few steps forward, experimentally, and found that the world didn't want to stay still. I clung to the tree, perhaps the very one I'd collided with, and then cautiously stepped again. If I could get to the tent with Skara I knew that I'd be much safer.

Brand, Warren, and another guard I hadn't met walked into the light of our campfire. Each of them had a grin on their face as they eyed the body on the ground. "Easy pickings," Brand said loud enough that I could hear him, "they'll sell nice enough."

That's when it all started to click together. Why Elias had been so eager to bring me along, why he talked about my value, and why they'd give us tea in the middle of the night. Our destination was Vicna for a reason, and it was because we were to be slaves.

If they knew about the Shatterblade from the wagoner that meant they would want it no matter what. A rare weapon like what I had could go for an absurd amount, and none of them would know that it was linked to my specific soul.

I thought to call out for help to Skara or Shorty, but instead all I could do was barely stand next to a tree. Even if I could muster the energy to yell it'd only draw the guards to me, and in my current state I stood no chance of winning.

"Where's the girl?" Warren asked as he noticed only Green-Eye on the ground.

Brand looked around the fire, and then he looked at the forest that I was hidden within. "You two go look for her, I'll tie this one up."

Warren and his friend walked in my direction, talking back and forth about what they wanted to do with me. They were comments that only fueld the rage that'd built within me. Behind them Brand stepped in closer to the black mass on the ground, and reached down to grab Green-Eye's cloak.

When he touched the cloak the black mass moved, a hand reaching up and gripping Brand's wrist. Green-Eye rose up off of the ground in one fluid movement, and with his right hand he punched Brand hard in the face.

I'd fought a lot in my training, and I'd seen a lot of fighting as well, so when I watched Green-Eye punch his fist through Brand's head I could only let out a small cry of shock. Warren and his friend turned just in time to watch Green-Eye remove his hand from Brand's skull, and both of them pulled out their swords.

Green-Eye didn't even let them approach him, as he took the initiative instead. He rushed across the short distance and grabbed ahold of Warren's neck with one gloved hand. Warren's friend attempted to slash him with his sword, but Green-Eye knocked aside the sword.

There was no mercy alloted to these men, as Green-Eye tossed Warren behind him and directly onto the fire. Warren screamed in pain as the flames crackled, and embers were tossed everywhere. The final guard attempted to run past Green-Eye and get to Warren, but instead he was greeted by Green-Eye's hand.

Green-Eye's fingers tightly clamped down on the face of the guard. The guard tried to stab Green-Eye in the side, but instead it was countered with a punch to the flat side of the sword. The impact of the fist was enough to break the sword, and the guard dropped his broken weapon in horror.

Green-Eye lifted one finger to his lip as though asking the guard for silence, and then his fingers dug in even more to the face. With a powerful backward wrench the face of the guard was torn off and the man collapsed on the spot.

I could only stare on with a mixture of fear and awe as Green-Eye turned to look at me, seeing me even though I was obscured by some trees and shadows. His short silver hair and green eyes gave him a somewhat exotic look, and as he grinned at me I felt almost safe.

Then I remembered that he'd punched through a skull, torn a face off, and even at that moment Warren was still burning on the fire pit.

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