Raea’s eyes slowly opened as soft morning light filtered in through the room’s west facing window. As she came to wakefulness, Raea noticed that her Varathian companion was not present, nor were any of his belongings. Rolling out of bed, lazily kicking away the blanket she had slept under, Raea made her way to the window, rubbing her eyes as she tried to fight the early morning feelings of tiredness. She saw Cian down in the street below, talking to a pair of men, one of whom was gesturing, pointing northeast in the direction of the Shields.

  Curious, the young girl gathered her personal effects and made her way down the stairs, stopping on the bottom step, surprised by the scene before her, for not a single person that had been in the inn the day prior had left, most of them now sleeping on benches or the floor. The sole waking person was Jacob, silently cleaning some mugs behind the bar.

  Stepping carefully so as to not disturb any of the sleeping forms at her feet, Raea managed to make it out of the building without waking anyone.

  Cian looked up at his young companion as she exited the inn.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” the old man said, “I was expecting to have to wake you before we left.”

  “Where ye going?” Raea asked.

  “North,” Cian answered. “Several people have said that this Griever fellow makes his home in one of the fortresses that the Aegis used to keep in the foothills of the Shields. Also got a description of the man himself, apparently he’s dark haired with an old scar that runs down the length of his nose down to right cheek.” Cian adjusted the straps on his sword’s scabbard. “We should get going.”

  “We?” Raea replied. “I thought ye wanted to keep me out of fights.”

  “I do, but I don’t trust this town,” the warrior said. “With Lord Aldo’s…disposition and the state of things here, I feel safer having you with me.”

  “Ye really think it would be safer?” Raea asked. “Ye wouldn’t give fighting the bandits a second thought yesterday.”

  Cian paused for a moment, staring off into the distance as he thought of an answer. “Between soldiers with no discipline and nothing better to do and men who are desperate and have nothing better to do, this isn’t a place you leave children. Jacob and Alphonse seem to be good men, but they can’t protect you against mobs.”

  “Hmm,” Raea grunted, frowning, but privately content with being allowed to leave the town.

  “Oh, so being a child suits you when you get what you want,” Cian commented with a smirk.

  “What?!” Raea exclaimed. “No it doesn’t,” she added, turning her head away melodramatically.

  “Ah, doesn’t matter. Come on,” Cian interrupted as he began walking away.

  Raea nodded and did as she was asked. A sudden yawn came to her, long and drawn out.

  Cian laughed heartily. “You still tired, huh?”

  “Uh-huh,” Raea nodded, still yawning.

  “Well there will be plenty of walking for you today, so you better wake up,” Cian commented.

  ***

  A howl echoed in Raea’s ear and the girl’s head was on a swivel as she looked around for the source.

  “What was that?” She asked in a panic. “A wolf?”

  Cian glanced down at his companion. “Hm? Yeah, it was a wolf, several, in fact. Don’t worry though, they’re not close.”

  Raea nodded absently as she returned her gaze to the path ahead. On either side of the road they were traveling were hills covered with trees, their leaves a deep green, the ground impossible to see through the foliage. Large mountains spiked up dramatically from the horizon, capped with snow, their peaks shrouded in clouds, the contrast of grey, white, blue, and green creating an image of crystalline beauty.

  “Wow,” Raea said, breathlessly.

  “Ha,” Cian chuckled softly.

  The road began to curve to the right, away from a large bluff looming on the left side. As the duo continued down the path new sights became visible past the hills. Ahead Raea could now see that the path went into a pass through the mountains, a massive cleft that cut straight through two mountains, their jagged peaks seeming as if they had once been one, but had been severed from each other in some great battle of titans in some ancient past.

  Within the narrow pass was a structure, a fortress of dark, weathered, and rough cut stone, stretching from cliff face to opposite cliff face. Surrounded by pristine and dramatic natural beauty, it stood out like an infected blister.

  Coming closer, Raea could begin to make out more details. The gate was wrought iron bars, nearly rusted through in some places, behind which sat an oaken door that likely had been grand in the past but now was beset by rot. The walls stood approximately 30 feet high, with three men standing guard atop them, armed with crossbows. Two towers flanked the gate, each about a further 6 feet taller than the rest of the fort.

  As they approached the fort Cian began to veer to the left, closer to a rocky outcropping. He moved behind it, out of sight of the fort.

  Cian peered around the corner at the fortress. “Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid,” he said to Raea.

  “What?! I want to watch!” Raea exclaimed.

  “Watch from here,” the warrior commanded.

  Cian began to climb the rock wall, jumping from handhold to handhold with an agility that seemed impossible for a man of his size. Sidling along the side of the pass, barely visible in the shadows of the mountains, the Varathian edged closer to the fortress.

  With one last nimble leap Cian landed on top of the wall, unnoticed by the men guarding it, and rushed forward like a ghost. From her poor vantage point Raea could barely make out the Varathian stealthily approaching each of the men on the wall, eliminating them with brutal efficiency.

  The first, Cian killed with a quick snap of the neck, taking a knife from his victim’s person, with which he then killed the second man on guard. The last he threw over the wall, the man’s neck breaking against the ground below before he could make a sound, save for the sickening crunch of his breaking bones. Cian then disappeared on the other side of the wall and for a long while the mountain pass was silent and still, save for the wind.

  In that silence Raea began to feel uneasy, not knowing what was happening inside that fortress. She began to approach the corpse of the man Cian had thrown over the walls with halting, nervous steps.

  There was almost an unreal sense to the situation as Raea came closer to the body. His face frozen in an expression of shock, his death coming too soon for the horror of it to register. There was no blood and no skin had been broken, but that only meant that the bandit’s neck, bent at an angle clearly outside the normal range of human motion, was both visible and sickening to look at.

  Raea stared at the body for a time, trapped by a sort of morbid fascination, until panicked screaming and yelling caught her attention. She turned her gaze upward to see smoke coming from within the fortress, accompanied by the red glow of the fire that sourced it. The panic only became greater as the flames burned brighter and more smoke billowed up into the air.

  Amidst the panic Raea could see the unmistakable figure of Cian silhouetted against the rising flames, standing atop the walls. He leapt down to the ground, landing on his feet, the 30 foot drop evidently not bothering him in the slightest.

  Cian looked over at Raea, not showing any surprise that the girl had left her initial hiding spot, then at the body she was kneeling next to. It was only now that Raea realized that Cian was carrying a severed head in his hand.

  “Um…who is—was—that?” Raea asked.

  “Griever,” Cian answered.

  “Ok. Why are ye taking him? It.”

  “Proof,” Cian answered simply.

  “Oh…OK,” Raea responded hesitantly.

  “Something still on your mind?” the Varathian questioned.

  “What? Oh, nothing,” Raea lied.

  “Uh-huh,” Cian vocalized as he began to walk down the path they originally came on.

  Cian looked back at Raea, who had remained rooted where she was.

  “You coming?” Cian asked. “Or do you plan on starving out here?”

  “How do ye do it?” Raea asked abruptly.

  “Do what?” Cian inquired.

  “Well…ye know,” the girl replied, gesturing timidly to the broken body on the ground.

  “Ah, kill,” Cian said. His face screwed in thought for a moment. “It’s something you learn to deal with,” he finally answered, melancholic.

  “What about them?” Raea asked, suddenly speaking with conviction. “I mean, they were killers too, right? Is that what I’ll become?”

  “Yes,” Cian answered bluntly. The Varathian paused for a moment, but when Raea did not speak up he took a deep breath. “If you’re not ready to live this life, back out now. I’ll leave you someplace nice and we’ll go our separate ways.”

  Raea was silent for a short moment, though it felt an eternity to her, staring at the ground. “No, I’ve come too far to turn back, haven’t I?” She said, looking up with a sad smile.

  “If that’s how you feel,” Cian remarked as he resumed walking.

  Raea quickly followed. “So, where ye get all the scars if ye could take on a whole fort’s worth of bandits?”

  “Now you ask about that?” Cian responded. “Well, it’s bound to happen at some point. Live long enough and you’re going to get hurt somehow.”

  “But…yer so good at fighting,” Raea interjected.

  “Ha, it’s easy to look good in shit company,” Cian said with a laugh. “But no, some of these scars are from when I was young and stupid, others from lucky bastards who got the drop on me, some still were given to me when…I had no means of protecting myself.”

  “A few of those scars though…” the Varathian continued, his head tilted ever so slightly upward, a wistful look on his face, “…every once in a while you’ll meet a fighter blessed with true skill.”

  Raea stared at the old man for a few moments. “Like Melos?” She finally asked the question on her mind.

  “I wouldn’t know, never seen the man,” Cian replied. “But it has been a long time since I fought a true warrior. Feels…overdue.”

  No further words passed between the two as they began the return trip to Shield Bearer.

  ***

  Raea stared at the ground as she walked, kicking at loose pebbles that happened across her path. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Cian as they walked the road back to Shield Bearer. She stopped mid-kick as the Varathian stopped moving.

  “What?” Raea asked, turning her gaze to Cian. The warrior did not seem to be listening to her, however, his eyes locked on something in the distance. Raea followed his sightline.

  First she saw a great column of smoke, a mass of swirling and shifting blackness rising into the air and at its base the town of Shield Bearer, ablaze.

  “What?!” Raea exclaimed, her leg still raised mid-kick, falling to the ground.

  Without uttering a word Cian moved towards the town, his stride quickened by the urgency of the situation. Raea followed suit, her eyes catching the gate in the distance. It had been closed behind them earlier that day, but now it was thrown open in the most haphazard of manners, bodies strewn about its threshold.

  Cian slowed as they approached, the bloody bag containing Griever’s head in one hand as his other drew his sword.

  By the time Raea caught up to Cian he had already entered the town. She followed his path through the gates, trying to keep up with the Varathian. As she passed through she felt her foot smash into something solid, accompanied by a hollow metal ringing.

  Raea reflexively stopped and grabbed her hurting foot, looking down to see an armored guard, his limbs missing, torn from his body. One of his bloody arms laid a few feet away, leaving a crimson trail back to its point of origin. The rest of the severed appendages were nowhere to be seen.

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  The girl fell on her rear as she tried to back away from the corpse. Looking up, she could see that the fires still burned while dead and dying people laid in the streets. She glanced down an alleyway to see two men cornering another, smashing his head in with rocks. From within a building a woman could be heard wailing while Raea spied a child sitting next to his mother’s corpse, tears streaming down his cheeks. A burning building collapsed in on itself and the woman’s wailing ceased.

  “Raea, stand up!” she heard someone yelling at her. She turned her head to see Cian standing over her, hand outstretched.

  “Come on!” he yelled.

  Raea grabbed the offered hand and was pulled to her feet. “Old man, what happened here?!” she yelled.

  “Good question,” Cian replied. “Even better one: am I still getting paid?”

  “Really?” Raea asked as the veteran warrior started to walk further into the town.

  Cian sighed deeply and slowly shook his head as he walked down the main road. “Not much we can do here now, girl.”

  “There’s got to be something we can do,” Raea said earnestly as they approached the city hall at the center of town.

  Cian stopped walking and did not respond.

  “Old man?” Raea inquired.

  “Well…shit,” Cian said as he turned his attention to the inn, sheathing his weapon.

  Raea looked at the inn, or at least what was left of it, a hollowed out husk covered with holes and scorch marks. Next to the door was Jacob, a spear through his chest, pinning him to his own inn.

  “The innkeep?!” Raea exclaimed in disbelief.

  “People probably thought that he was getting rich off their suffering with his high prices,” Cian speculated, “and they killed him for it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the room key that he had been given the night before and threw it into the wreckage. “Guess we won’t be needing this anymore.”

  “But why would anybody do that?” Raea mumbled to herself. “I understand taking someone’s stuff, but killing them for it?”

  “Wait,” Cian said, placing a hand on his sword. “Sounds like someone is still near.”

  Raea listened, but heard nothing more than distant screams and yelling and the crackling of burning wood.

  Cian’s hand left his weapon. “No, someone’s crying. A woman. No, a girl.”

  Before Raea could say anything the Varathian walked into the inn.

  “In here,” Cian said quickly.

  Raea followed, with only Cian to guide her, as only he seemed able to hear this crying girl, until they arrived at a backroom. Raea then heard a faint sobbing coming from within. Cian slowly opened the door and took one step inside.

  “Ah,” he vocalized, melancholic. “Should have known.”

  Raea stepped into what appeared to be a store room, with crates and barrels stacked along the back wall, a few rows deep, most of them cracked open and empty. In one corner of the room was the inn’s serving girl, Jacob’s daughter, curled up with her head on her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “What happened to her?” Raea asked before she saw the answer to her own question. The poor girl’s simple dress was torn to shreds, with large holes at her chest and crotch, revealing all that had been violated and brutalized. She was bruised all over and bloodied, some of it hers, some not.

  Raea, not knowing the words to say, reached out slowly to touch the serving girl. The pitiable thing’s eyes shot open wide, as if seeing for the first time, and looked up at Raea.

  “No! No!” she shrieked, pushing herself back against the wall. “Stay away from me! Stay away!”

  “No, I-I just want to help,” Raea pleaded.

  The girl’s breathing became increasingly frantic, her exposed and bruised chest heaving visibly with each inhalation. Her eyes wandered over to Cian and she recoiled violently, kicking wildly at the air, in an attempt to keep the Varathian at bay. “No, no, not again. Not again!”

  “Please, just…we’re just trying to help ye.” Raea begged timidly.

  “Just leave her,” Cian interjected calmly, placing a firm hand on Raea’s shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do here right now. Maybe later, if she calms down.”

  “…OK.”

  Cian left the room as Raea took one last, lingering look at the panicked girl before turning her head and leaving.

  Raea stepped outside the burned out husk of the inn just as Cian was stepping up to the city hall, its doors barred shut.

  “Let’s see if anybody’s home…” Cian said as he looked over his shoulder at Raea. “Well that’s lovely,” he added, his sight darting to his left.

  Raea followed his gaze to a body laying on the ground, back to the sky, headless and stripped naked.

  “What?” Raea asked no one in particular, as confused as she was horrified.

  Cian walked over to the body and stood over it as he examined it. “Head was taken off with a single, clean blow. This wasn’t done by a mob, this was someone armed with a quality weapon, one they were trained to use.”

  Raea averted her eyes from the body, only to see more. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing. A group of guards, armored with weapons lying on the ground nearby, unbloodied.

  Cian inspected their bodies as well. “Again, these couldn’t have been done by a mob. Clearly, someone with good training did this.”

  “Leave now, Beast,” a harsh masculine voice called out, surprising Raea.

  Looking around for the source, she spotted a guard poking his head out of the second story window of the town hall and aiming a crossbow at the Varathian.

  “I’m here to see your lord,” Cian said, ignoring the rough greeting, “does he happen to still live?”

  “I’m sure you already know,” the guard replied in a low, threatening tone, steadying the crossbow in his hand.

  “Wait! Wait!” a more familiar voice yelled from within.

  The guard was joined at the window by Alphonse Aegis, looking tired and scared but physically unharmed. “Oh, Sir Varathian! Have you finished the…uh…task I asked of you?”

  “Yes,” Cian answered, lifting up the bloodied bag containing his proof over his head.

  “Is that…” the young nobleman started before he began retching. “Just…let them in,” he ordered as he ducked back into the building.

  Cian lowered his prize as they waited for the doors to the town hall to open. After a few long moments those doors creaked open, just enough so that a single person could pass through, and a guard peered out, halberd held at the ready. Looking around quickly, he motioned brusquely for Cian and Raea to enter.

  The two did as they were bid, Raea jumping in surprise when the door slammed shut behind her.

  “Is that…” Cian began, a few steps ahead of her, standing next to Alphonse.

  “Yes,” the nobleman interrupted, “that’s…my father.”

  Raea looked across the hall, several bodies scattered on the floor, to the small throne, a severed head, mouth gaping, pinned to it with a dagger through the forehead. The head of Lord Aldo Aegis.

  “What happened here?” Cian asked calmly.

  “I-I,” Alphonse stuttered, fighting back tears. “It was that elven bandit, Melos.”

  Raea stifled a sudden gasp, her eyes growing wide and her body rigid. Cian glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eye as Alphonse continued his story.

  “They just…appeared… right in the middle of the town, this morning,” the young man said, unable to hold his head up. “Must have…snuck in during the night, easy enough the way the walls are crumbling.” Alphonse slowly made his way to a bench on the side of the hall and sat down as he was talking. “It was…Melos and maybe…” he shook his head as he took a moment’s pause, “half a dozen other elves? I don’t know. But they slaughtered the guards and broke into the hall. I was on the second floor with Anise when they came in. Father…he just stood there, ranting at the elves, calling them animals, lower than dogs, saying how they should all be exterminated like rats, saying all of this as these elves marched towards him, cutting down anyone who got in their way. Kept saying that as Melos walked right up to him and cut his head off.”

  “What did Melos do after that?” Cian prompted as Alphonse took a long pause, trying to recompose himself.

  “He…took my Father’s head and…did that to it,” Alphonse said, pointing to the throne. “Then he dipped his fingers in Father’s blood and wrote…something in Elvish on the throne. None of us can read it. After that, a few of Melos’s men took my father’s body and threw it out into the street and just walked out of town. And not a single person tried to touch them as they left.”

  “Is that when the riot broke out?” Cian asked.

  “Yes,” Alphonse answered. “As soon the elves left, the people outside just…went crazy. They started fighting, looting. Those of us left in here…just…shut the doors as they stripped my Father’s body of all his armor and jewels and silks.”

  Raea listened silently to this story and swallowed hard as Alphonse finished.

  “Well,” Alphonse said in a faltering voice, “this isn’t all that you came for. Let’s go somewhere a little less…depressing.” The nobleman stood up and began walking up the stairs leading to the second floor. “And that,” Alphonse said, turning around pointing at the sack in Cian’s hand, “someone please, just get rid of that. I’ve had enough severed heads for today.”

  One of the guards walked up and took the sack from Cian. The Varathian did not resist, freely giving away the proof of his victory over Griever. He started to follow Alphonse up the stairs, but paused, looking at the throne.

  “Huh,” he vocalized as he slightly tilted his head to one side.

  “What?” Alphonse asked as he turned around. “Sir, are you…able to read Elvish?”

  “Some, yes,” Cian answered.

  “What does it say?” the nobleman asked.

  “It says, ‘behold the fate of tyrants.’”

  “Ah,” Alphonse responded before giving a stiff nod as a show of understanding.

  “How did Lord Aldo treat elves, Alphonse?” Cian asked.

  “Terribly, to put it mildly,” Alphonse answered. “I remember when I was young and my father inherited the Shields from my grandfather. One of his first acts was to gather all of the castle’s elven servants and publicly execute them. He said elves pollute the very air around them, refused to let them anywhere near him. When we were forced to move to Shield Bearer, he massacred the whole of the elven population here.”

  “That’s likely why Melos came here,” Cian replied. “He wanted to send a message.”

  “Probably,” Alphonse said in a low voice.

  “Shall we go?” Cian asked before a silence could fall over the group.

  “Yes,” Alphonse responded.

  The young man climbed the rest of the steps, up to the balcony overlooking the hall below. There was a single door up there, which Alphonse opened and passed through, Cian and Raea following. Beyond it was a bedroom, one meant for nobility, judging by the luxurious bed and the few small treasures displayed on stands set up around the room. A small table with a few chairs was in one corner of the room, likely meant for private meals. The moment they entered the room Anise crawled out from under the bed and ran to her brother, embracing him tightly and burying her face in his shirt.

  “It’s alright, I’m here,” Alphonse said reassuringly. He guided her over to the bed and sat down, Anise pulling herself as close to her brother as she could, wrapping her arms securely around his waist.

  Cian leaned against the wall, arms folded together. Raea copied the mannerism.

  “Your pay is on the table,” Alphonse said, gesturing towards it.

  “Thanks,” Cian said, picking up a sack full of coin and opening it. The Varathian reached inside and grabbed a handful of coins, placing them back on the table.

  “Consider it a donation,” Cian said as he retied the bag and stuffed it in a pocket.

  “T-Thank you, Sir Varathian,” Alphonse responded.

  “You’ll have a hard task ahead of you,” Cian cautioned. “I pray that you are up to it.”

  “As do I,” the new Lord of House Aegis replied. “Heh, maybe I can even be like Marcus the Great.”

  “Ha!” Cian laughed loudly, though not derisively. “The King of Damar? Not even he came from such humble origins. Besides, you perhaps know the old saying. When great kings rise, kingdoms fall.”

  “Hm, perhaps you are right,” Alphonse replied. “Still, I will have to rethink my father’s policies.”

  “I wish you luck, then,” Cian stated as he left the room, Raea following close behind.

  The duo left the nobles and exited the building quickly without pausing. The guard at the doors opened them just enough for the two to leave, slamming it behind them as soon as they had crossed the threshold.

  “So, uh, ye think he’ll be alright?” Raea asked.

  “Eh, I’m optimistic that it will end in tragedy.” Cian answered with a shrug.

  Raea stopped abruptly.

  “What?” Cian asked.

  “The girl,” she said before she sprinted across the street to the husk of the inn, heading to the store room. Upon reaching it she stopped, took a deep breath, and stepped in.

  “Hey,” she said in a low, calm voice, approaching the serving girl, still lying in the corner where she had been.

  There was no reaction from the girl and Raea stopped when she saw the reason. A dagger through the girl’s chest, her hands limp on the hilt. Raea slammed her fist into the wall in frustration.

  Cian walked in through the doorway and surveyed the scene. “Come on,” he said, softly, placing a firm hand on Raea’s shoulder.

  The girl nodded slightly, repeatably, as she answered, “yeah,” and followed the Varathian.

  ***

  Raea sat on the top of a hill, knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped around them. From there she could see Shield Bearer perfectly, the flames that had consumed much of it earlier that day dying a slow death.

  Cian was nearby, drinking from a stream.

  “Are we going by the bandit stronghold?” Raea asked as she watched the last few tendrils of smoke fade away.

  “No, we’re going to cleave closer to the coast than we did this morning,” Cian answered.

  “Good,” Raea replied, picking up a pebble and throwing it down the hill in the direction of Shield Bearer. “I don’t want to see more death.”

  Cian walked over to Raea, sitting beside her. “Death is a part of life, it will be there whether you wish it or not.”

  Raea picked up another pebble and threw it.

  “But that’s not what this is about, is it?” Cian asked.

  “Of course not,” Raea answered. “It’s just…”

  “If you hadn’t freed Melos, you would be dead.”

  “I know, I know, but if I hadn’t, they wouldn’t be,” she said, pointing to the ruins of the town below.

  Cian sighed deeply and leaned back on his hands. “Many years ago, back in my youth, I helped this young couple. It was something right out of some cliched romantic play,” he said, chuckling. “A handsome man and a beautiful woman, scions of powerful noble families and bitter rivals. Everything about their situation told them they should never even speak to one another, but they were young, foolish, and so desperately in love.”

  Raea looked at the old man out of the corner of her eyes, one brow raised.

  “Being young and foolish myself, I took it upon myself to help them, took a pittance for the job,” Cian continued. “So I stole the young lady away from her family and brought her to her lover, waiting at one of his family’s many countryside estates, where they thought they could live the rest of their lives blissfully away from their families and their conflict. There I left them.”

  “That sounds…nice,” Raea commented.

  “I thought so too,” Cian continued. “At least until I heard the news that they had been discovered. The girl’s family came to take their daughter back, believing she had been kidnapped and held hostage, which of course led to a massive battle between the families, which of course ended in a bloodbath between them. In the end, the young man was killed, his family wiped out down to the newborn babes, and the beautiful young lady was dragged back home kicking and screaming, short a lover, a couple of brothers, and several cousins for her trouble.”

  “What did you do?,” Raea asked, now looking at the Varathian expectingly.

  “I despaired,” Cian answered, melancholic. “I blamed myself for what had happened, thought if I had left well enough alone such tragedy would have been avoided. It wasn’t until years later that I met the woman again.”

  “What happened?” Raea prompted.

  Cian smiled a sad smile as he continued. “She had been forced to marry another, to live in luxurious despair as she bore the children of a man she hated. When I saw her I could only beg her forgiveness. But she didn’t forgive me. Instead, she thanked me.”

  “But…why?”

  “She told me that those few weeks I had given her with her love had been the happiest moments of her life and even if it ended in tragedy, I didn’t wield the sword that killed him. I learned two important lessons that day, Raea. First, that one should consider the consequences of their actions, because kindness can do a great deal of harm. Second, that you should never blame yourself for the decisions of others.” The veteran warrior turned to Raea. “You chose to free Melos, that’s true, and because he was free he was able to kill many,” he said. “But the actions he took after were his alone. You freeing him didn’t make him kill, he made that decision himself.”

  Raea nodded slowly, staring down at the ruins of Shield Bearer. “If I’m going to be a killer, I’m going to kill him,” she stated quietly.

  “What was that?” Cian asked.

  “Nothing,” Raea answered quickly before reconsidering. “No. I will be the greatest warrior, greatest Varathian I can be.”

  “I like the sound of that. Come on, let’s go,” Cian said, affectionately fussing with Raea’s hair. “After today, I’m stopping at the first brothel I see.”

  “Whatever,” Raea replied. The young girl tussled with her hair for a moment, trying to tame the stray strands that Cian had kicked up. Once she was satisfied she looked over her shoulder at Shield Bearer behind her, took a deep breath, then returned her attention toward the path forward.