by Macie Cage
Rather than moving through a portal as he was used to, the shadow seemed to absorb him. He emerged from behind Caiden and the Prince jumped away, whether the reaction was out of shock or if the man was trying to give him room to move was up for debate. The axe-wielder gave a shout of alarm as he crashed face first into the tree that Evander had been braced against.
Caiden was quick about disposing of him, but Evander caught the brief hesitation before the Prince’s blade sank into the bandit’s side. That would have to be trained out of him.
The three others were trying to take advantage of Caiden’s distraction, not realizing that Evander was there. He quickly changed that, stabbing through the first one that was too focused on Caiden to react in time. The remaining two skidded to a halt seeing that half their force was dead and they were now evenly matched.
Evander found himself grinning, and he knew the expression was practically maniacal judging by the bandits’ hesitation. It was down to the female and the youngest of the males.
The young man charged at him with a yell and Evander easily locked blades with him. He winced, his arms still tired from holding up the brute for so long. It wasn't anything more than an inconvenience, but the woman was turning to run and Evander didn't think he could move fast enough to catch her.
“Get her!” he snapped at Caiden, shoving the bandit he was dealing with back enough to get his sword into a better position. Inexperience showed itself when the young man didn't back off and instead tried to come at him again. Evander sighed as his blade drove into the bandit’s stomach at an upward angle, easily bypassing the thickest points of the meager armor and striking the heart. The angle meant it was harder to withdraw his blade in a hurry and as he glanced up, he saw Caiden still hesitating and the woman quickly getting farther away.
Evander grabbed a dagger off the young bandit’s belt as he dropped the body and sword together, taking only two steps before throwing the weapon. It wasn't balanced properly so it struck lower than he intended.
It still did the job and the woman pitched forward, lying in an ominously still heap on the forest floor. Had she thought to weave through the trees, she wouldn’t have been hit. Evander found he had very little pity for her.
He frowned and squinted, realizing that the clearing was far too dark to be natural, especially after only five minutes of fighting. Belatedly, he realized that he’d been using his magic and released it. Sunlight poured through the trees, illuminating red-tinted mud and ruined grass.
“We make a pretty decent team, don't we?” the offhanded, cheerful tone sounded forced and brought his attention to Caiden who was cleaning his blade on the back of one of the bandits.
“What’re you smiling about?” Evander asked irritably as he walked over and wrenched his sword free of his last kill. Being only a step away from Caiden, he could see the Prince’s hands, white knuckled around the hilt of his sword and trembling. Though Evander had a feeling it wasn't from fear. Perhaps from the adrenaline. He elected to wipe his sword clean with a cloth pulled from one of the corpses, thinking over the encounter.
“Nothing much. I think you might be cured though. Or at least well enough to handle moving around without courting death.” The man wandered over to stand beside him as Evander stood.
Ah. First kill. He made the realization as he looked over at the Prince. Caiden was staring almost blankly at the bandit by his feet. Even if his face held a smile, he wasn't mentally coping as well as someone who’d been trained to take lives from a young age.
“Oh good, perfect timing.” He grinned, and Caiden gave him a suspicious look. Suspicious, but no longer dull. “Because I wanted to try something.”
He didn’t give the Prince any warning before he struck with his blade, catching the man by surprise as he spun the short sword in his hand, hitting him with the hilt instead of the edge. Caiden coughed as it smacked into his diaphragm, forcing him to double over.
“What the hell?” the words came out strangled.
Evander smirked at him. “I think it might be worth teaching you a thing or two.”
Six
Month of the Maiden 12, 421 HE
“You have a stable fighting stance, but it doesn’t allow for much movement,” Evander hummed, circling Caiden in the clear area outside of the cabin.
The Prince was watching him carefully, having learned from the numerous bruises that Evander was more of a ‘learn by doing’ type of teacher. Evander had to admit, it was extremely satisfying to be able to beat Caiden, even after being weakened by the poison.
They had been training for two weeks since the bandit attack, and Evander was honing Caiden’s rusty skills into something that was almost proficient. Though, he had to admit, it was easier since the man was mimicking his own fighting style and adapting it to his strengths.
“So, where did you learn to fight?” Evander asked slowly as they stripped the bandits of their possessions. While Caiden hadn't gone on the offensive with the bandits, he had done very well defending. Something that Evander knew didn't come from his formal training.
Caiden looked over at him. “From you. I told you, Eva, I’ve always been watching. Granted, I made Sir Hayden practice with me every once in a while, when he wasn’t busy.”
Evander stared at him. Sir Hayden won his knighthood on the battlefield. He’d been the Battle Master’s Second in Command for years.
“That’s where you got that scar from, isn’t it?” he asked.
Caiden grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. I told him not to go easy on me and he agreed. Karen healed me after a particularly vicious match,” he grumbled, clearly remembering being beaten.
Evander made a quick jab at him, pleased when the Prince swung his crude practice sword in a tight arch, knocking aside the blow. Caiden followed immediately, pivoting towards Evander and swinging at him. Evander leaned back to avoid it, stepping back into his own shadow and letting himself fall, sinking into it and immediately coming out in Caiden’s shadow.
His weapon prodded at the Prince’s back. “Dead.”
Caiden glared at him. “I’m starting to think you have an unfair advantage.”
Evander grinned. “You need to learn to fight ability users. Granted, I can see how mine might be a pain.”
“A pain? You disappear! You can pop up fifty paces off, or you could be right behind me!”
“Then try to predict where I’m going.” He paused, something about that struck him as important. An odd feeling that he’d missed something. He shrugged it off as Caiden demanded a rematch. Again.
Evander was happy to oblige. While the practice swords were nothing more than a couple of clumsily carved sticks, he’d taken care to make them slightly heavier than the metal blades that they’d acquired from the bandits. He was using the spars as a way to get accustomed to implementing his ability in combat while simultaneously training Caiden. With frequent use, it was becoming more powerful. He’d always been able to manipulate shadows, but now he could give it form, separate it, and give the illusion of a phantom. He’d begun using it to recreate the elite’s abilities for Caiden to practice against. Not that it was anything close to the real thing.
He was concerned, however. Over the past week, the Prince had been keeping his distance from him and their spars were getting increasingly violent. They hadn't argued save for directly after the fight with the bandits, and Evander wondered if Caiden was still upset over it.
“What are you doing?” Evander asked as he stripped the last of the equipment from the body in front of him. He’d turned around to see that Caiden had arranged the bodies and seemed to be looking for something.
“Looking for kindling. The least we can do is give them a decent send-off.”
Evander stared at him. “Smoke will attract people. Just leave them.”
“Then at least a burial—”
“Why? Leave them out and they’ll attract animals that we can then hunt and eat ourselves.”
“It’s basic human decency!”
Caiden snapped at him, sounding horrified.
Evander rolled his eyes and grabbed a larger rock, using it to carve out a space in the mud.
“That’s too shallow,” Caiden said pointedly.
“If you want to bury them, fine. Throw some dirt on them, say a prayer, and leave it be. That should be enough to satisfy you, right?” He wasn't gentle about it. Caiden would at least understand the logic behind his words even if he didn't like them. “Come hunt here in a few days, and we might be able to survive the winter.”
That had shocked Caiden into sullen silence for a while. It wasn't until Evander had started training him that he realized the Prince was still upset over something. It wasn't like him to hold a grudge, so whatever it was bothered him deeply.
He decided to wait for Caiden to make the first move in this round and was surprised when the man came at him with fury. He ended up on the defensive, redirecting blows rather than trying to block them. Caiden had the advantage in height and weight, and Evander was realizing that the Prince was much stronger than he’d originally thought. Helping the cook knead bread, the physician lift bodies and grind herbs, and the servants run errands all had clearly given the man a good bit of muscle. What impressed him was that Caiden knew what to do with his body. He was nowhere near the Clan’s caliber but for someone with no true combat experience, he was showing great improvement.
Caiden was slashing at him with a viciousness that Evander hadn't known the man was capable of. The Prince wasn’t holding back and was truly trying to hit him.
Finally, Evander dropped his weapon and punched the Prince in the chest. The blow put a fast stop to the man’s forward momentum and Evander took advantage of his loss of balance. He punched again, this time in the stomach, and watched Caiden hunch over. It didn't take much effort to drive the Prince’s face down into his knee.
Caiden reeled backward with a yelp, landing with a solid thud on the ground. He stared up at him in shock, his nose bloodied and eyes teary from reflex.
“What the hell is your problem?” Evander snapped at him. “This is to get you combat ready, not so you can take out whatever issues you have on me.”
Caiden glared at him. “If you’ve been able to beat me, why haven't you?”
“I have been beating you. I just haven't punched you in the face. I still can if you’re not satisfied yet.” Caiden didn't reply and with some effort, Evander reigned in his temper. “I hold back so you can learn better. I still beat you and I hurt you to some extent so you will learn faster, but there's no reason for me to come at you without restraint. You, on the other hand, wanted to hurt me. Why?”
Caiden dropped his gaze. “You killed a retreating woman.”
Evander stared at him. “And?”
The Prince’s head shot up, his expression one of complete disbelief. “You killed someone in cold blood who was already retreating!”
Evander tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. Clearly something that was common sense to him was not making sense to Caiden. “Had she gotten away, she would have told someone. She could have come back with reinforcements or she could have followed us. It's practically winter. We can't afford to move and find other shelter.”
“We could have kept her alive!”
“With what resources? We have enough food to keep us well fed perhaps two weeks into winter, but after that? We will have to find a way of stealing or otherwise acquiring food. We don't have enough excess to support a prisoner. Not to mention having to keep track of her. All in all, letting her live would have caused nothing but problems.”
Caiden blinked at him for a moment and Evander could see him thinking it through. “I... understand.”
The Prince suddenly seemed so much younger, and the lost look almost made Evander want to hit him again. “Do you really?” he asked with a raised brow.
“I... I do. Really. Sorry for going off like that.”
Evander nodded and helped him back to his feet. “I forget you’re not a killer at heart.”
“I take that as a compliment,” Caiden muttered.
He seemed to relax more and Evander figured that his outburst was a good thing. A gust of wind made the servant shiver. Now that he had been standing still, the cold was biting into him. Not a good thing right after exercise.
He began a quick round of stretches, even going so far as to settle on his back on the ground and arching into a bridge. Caiden gave him a curious look before shaking his head and starting to walk away from him.
“Stretch,” he called as he relaxed again. The Prince turned back to glare at him. “I’m serious. Stretch.” Evander sat up and stretched his arms out before bending to touch his feet, his chest laying against his legs.
“I can’t do that.” Caiden was watching him with a combination of awe and concern. “I have no idea how you do that.”
“I’m not telling you to do as I do. I’m just saying you need to stretch out your muscles. Believe me, everyone above the age of ten in the Clan is faster, more flexible, more acrobatic, and far more capable than you are. Your best bet is to at least try and catch up.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Caiden muttered sullenly. Yet Evander watched as the man started mimicking him, or attempting to. After a few minutes of the Prince struggling to touch his toes without bending his knees and slowly working the tightness out of his shoulders, the man picked up his bow and quiver. “I’m going to hunt. We’re running low on food.”
Evander found himself rolling his eyes, but he got to his feet and wandered over to the clothes line and buckets that they were using for laundry. He was almost back to full strength, though Caiden was still leery of letting him overwork himself, a funny thing considering how wholeheartedly Caiden had thrown himself into training. The man had basically confined him to the cabin, showing him how to oil and work the skins that he’d stretched to keep them supple, how to do laundry, and how to properly cook a meal.
Evander sighed and grumbled to himself as he pulled the sheets off of the line. He could sew a button, but he didn’t know how to mend a tear. He could apply a bandage but couldn’t disinfect a wound. He could kill but couldn’t hunt. He could organize a full meal with all the necessary nutrients but had no idea how to cook it. He knew how to quickly wash a shirt but no idea how to wash and dry full loads of laundry.
He threw the now dry linens into the basket. They’d managed to find the bandit’s camp so they had more clothes and supplies.
“You seem to have gotten used to doing laundry at least.”
Evander glared over his shoulder at Caiden as the man laughed and headed off into the woods. He continued with the chores, pacing around and cleaning, reorganizing, so they could run if necessary. Paranoid, he knew, but it was better to be prepared.
Caiden was usually quick with his hunts, going out to check his traps and kill what he could before coming back. Evander paced some more before going to fetch water from the nearby stream. He used his ability to get there and used his injured arm to carry it back. His own way of exercising outside of their usual sparring.
He sighed as he returned to the cabin, setting the water down by the hearth before stretching out his arms again. It had been almost a month since they’d escape the castle, thirty-one days to be exact, so long as Caiden was correct in his count of days. Judging by the stars, he’d say the Prince wasn’t mistaken. The constellation of the Maiden had risen in the night sky only twelve days prior.
The funerals would have taken place already. Messages would have been sent to the neighboring Kingdoms. Border patrols and search parties would have been formed. Evander wondered if Ansom had replaced Caiden’s body to make it look like the Prince was dead.
He promptly discarded the idea. No, the easiest way to keep up his charade was if he had the whole kingdom searching to find and bring the Prince to him. Once he had him, it would be simple to stage an accident.
He shrugged off the thoughts and decided to clean, only pausing when it began
to get dark. He frowned at the fire, tapping his foot against the floorboards. Caiden almost always returned as the sun set. He was late. He paced for a few moments more before grabbing his sword and heading outside.
He froze only three steps out of the door, spotting a light moving through the trees.
He activated his ability, pulling the darkness around him until he was practically invisible in the night. Skulking towards the path, he kept low, staying near the brush. His stomach did a small flip as he caught sight of an old man slowly making his way down the path. He was laden with packs, hobbling along while holding out a lantern.
The owner of the cabin was early, most likely to start stocking for the winter months that would be spent there. Evander drew his sword and waited. The man got to the clearing and Evander could see his confusion, his trepidation, when he saw the light of the fire through the windows. The man cautiously moved forward, raising his lantern higher as he approached the door.
Evander slid behind him with the ease of a practiced killer, raising his sword at an angle to plunge into the man’s side. An easy kill. A necessary one. Caiden may not like it, but they couldn’t afford for anyone to find them, not now.
The man paused at the door and Evander took a breath—
“Excuse me, sir?”
Evander silently cursed, diving to the side, using a shadow to put himself close to the cabin wall, as the elder whipped around. Caiden stood just a few yards away, a doe being dragged behind him.
The man wheezed and for a moment, Evander was sure he was going to die of shock. “What-what in the—? What’re you—? What do you think you’re doin’ here?”
Caiden smiled at him as he came closer. “Apologies. We needed a place to stay.” He stepped into the light cast by the man’s lantern.
“You-Your Highness!” The man tried to bow, almost falling over as his packs weighed him down. “I-I’m honored, but— how?” Caiden reached out to steady him, and the man finally let out a wheezing chuckle. “I think I need a drink.”