Squire

by Payton Cavallo

  “Then let him come.” Gennadi said simply. “I do not believe that Damir would do such a thing, and even if he did and was after me…well, I lived my life in fear near the border towns to the west, always wondering if the next day the Lusus would tear apart my village. I refuse to live another day like that. When my time comes, it’ll come if Miion wishes it. Till then, I’d like to do as much as I could because every day could be my last, should my Lord wish it to end.” He fondled a small chain around his neck, the small religious iconography shiny as if it had just been newly made. “

  “Please sir.” Veliane spoke up, a grimace on her face. She looked scared, but unlike the other times, there was no shaking in her form. It had been replaced with conviction, as even though there was fear in her, Craeft could see the resolute look in her eyes. “It is an order from Sir Finguine.”

  For just a brief instant, the man looked angry, furious even at her words before he calmed himself. “If it so important, then why is he not here himself?”

  “Because he and the other squad are protecting the manor in case Damir attacks.” Craeft tried to hurry the conversation along, desperate to leave the building. “Now either come with us or we will make you.” Ice built up along his hands, and the man’s eyes widened slightly at the threat. The Squire hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but if the man persisted, Finguine had given them permission to use force. “If we have to drag you back, we will.”

  “You would dare to strike a servant of Miion?” The man seemed stunned at his actions.

  “I don’t want to do this sir, but better you be hurt and be treated by a healer, then be dead on the ground.” Craeft felt uncomfortable saying it, but he would rather the man hate him and be alive, then wind up feeling the bite of Damir’s sword as he did. “And-“

  They heard the sound glass shattering with the noise of armored boots clanking against the floor quickly following. It echoed throughout the large room, the Craeft glancing around the room and into the darkness as he tried to spot his foe. He immediately summoned his swerdan, the weapon appearing in a brief flash of light and frost. Veliane summoned hers as well, a mixture of light and pink petals flowing across her palms as she held the sword defensively in front of her.

  The footsteps ceased after a few moments as Damir appeared out of the darkness. His bright blue eyes stood out in the darkness, and Craeft could see sparks dancing across his armored form. He tensed, moving himself near the priest as he clenched his swerdan tightly in his hands.

  “You…” Damir hissed out as he glared at the priest, condemnation in his eyes.

  “So, you’ve arrived.” Father Gennadi looked down to the ground. “And judging by the fact you broke in, the squires were right. You’ve come to kill me, haven’t you?”

  “Yes.” Damir’s voice was tight, and as he stepped out of the darkness, Craeft could see the conflict in his body. His stance was partially that of an attacker, tense and ready to take action, but the man’s hands weren’t on his knives or his swords. They were simply held at his side, hesitant to strike the priest down. “You betrayed me. You gave them my name. I was foolish to trust you.” The hesitance in his form left him as his right hand reached for a knife on his waist. “But you did teach me a lesson, one that I should have learned long ago. Trust no one, for they’ll always jab a knife in my back.”

  Father Gennadi looked stricken with grief, the young man’s words seeming to impale his heart just as surely as any blade. “Damir, you were just a young man when you came here, all full of anger and hate. I treated you like I would my own child, and…” His eyes softened for a moment. “I saw you as my own too. When they came to me, even after you had left, I had not believed them when they said you were a suspect. I believed that you were a righteous man, if a bit confused, who would go on to do great things. So why do this? Why did you betray the Ascean Empire, no, your humanity, and let those demons into our city to kill and murder? Why kill Nadia, when I’ve never seen her speak so much as a word to you? Is your heart so clouded by hatred that you would even take the lives on innocents?”

  “You saw me as your son, yet you still sold me out?” Damir’s voice cracked slightly, his eyes glinting in the darkness. “And you call me a traitor as well? Some son you see me as. Perhaps just like your own children, you were afraid I’d leave you alone as well.” Father Gennadi grimaced, looking as if Damir had taken a secret and slapped him across the face with it. “As for your allegations, I was not the one who let the Lusus in. My associate did without even telling me. It…it wasn’t supposed to happen.” The man shuddered for a moment, before he quickly regained his wits. “And as for Nadia, she’s from the same cursed bloodline as her father. She deserved everything she got.”

  Father Gennadi clenched his fists, his palms a pale white as they shook with rage, but the pain in his eyes spoke of a tale of deep sadness. “Is your heart that hardened that you would think nothing of ending the life of someone who you’ve never even met. This…this is madness Damir. Surely you see that? Please tell me you do, because I don’t think I can stand to listen to this…this mockery that you’ve become for much longer.”

  Damir shrugged. “You won’t have to listen to me for much longer. But either way, I am just thankful that I killed her, taking out another of their cursed bloodline.”

  “Your words make me wish I could deafen myself.” Father Gennadi’s words dripped with a mixture of anguish and hate, aimed at the twisted creature Damir had become. “And what gives you the right to judge them? You who have taken the life of innocents and helped cause the death of thousands. What makes you better than the Valentinovichs? They have ruled this city for centuries and ensured the populace was happy and content, safe behind the walls from the Lusus. Yet, you, who know nothing of ruling, believe you’re better than them.”

  “Because I am.” Damir ground out. “I fight for a greater cause, to free this place from those monsters. I don’t force myself on a woman and leave her to rot. I don’t leave her penniless as she struggles to raise a child on her own.” Damir’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “And I sure as hell don’t smack her around when she comes asking for money for the child that was forced upon her. For the child she didn’t want.” His voice was slowly growing louder as he raged. “So yes, I am better than them. I am better than Nadia’s father, Sidor Valentinovich. During the Lusus attacks, I cut him down, making it look like the Lusus did it. I won, I killed that raping piece of garbage, and I will not stop till they are all rotting in the Abyss with him!”

  Damir gulped down breath as he glared at Father Gennadi, an animalistic rage in his eyes. His form was like a predator, ready to pounce on its prey for daring to defy it, but he slowly calmed down as his hand gilded across his knives.

  “Damir, please stop. Just stop this, please. You’re killing people for what their father did, for what Sidor did. That man did something despicable to your mother, and he is surely being punished in the Abyss for it. He deserved your rage but that doesn’t mean you have to hurt his descendants for his sins.” Father Gennadi shook his head. “You don’t need to do this.”

  “But I do.” Damir took a step forward, lightning dancing along his arms, his eyes filled with the same intensity as when Craeft had first seen the man. “I have to, or I’ll never be able to live with myself. I have to purge them all. I have to. After I take care of a loose end.”

  The knife surged forward, several of its brethren trailing behind it as it flew towards Father Gennadi. Craeft heard Veliane mutter a spell and a bright blue barrier appeared in front of them, blocking all knives save for one. One which promptly began to fly back towards Damir, but not before it tried to skewer Father Gennadi. Craeft grabbed it with an ice-covered fist, the cold element creeping along it as it struggled to fly back towards its master. After a few moments, the metal became brittle and Craeft crushed the knife in his palm, the cold and brittle blade shattering into pieces.

  “Veliane, take Father Gennadi and go.” Craeft said as he watched
the blocked knives fly back towards the man, pulled by his magnetism. “I’ll hold him off.”

  “But you can’t take him on by yourself.” She replied, her eyes filled with worry as she looked at the slowly approaching man. “He’ll kill you.”

  “I’ll be able to last for a while. You take the priest back to the hospital, and then head back. Shoot off the excandescant spell while you’re outside. That’ll bring the reinforcements here.” She nodded in agreement before she grabbed onto the older man’s hand.

  “We’re going to have to leave. Don’t let go of me.” She said as they moved towards the front of the church, her swerdan held in her hand to block any strike from the criminal.

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” Damir’s voice was the only warning before he moved incredibly fast, appearing in front of Veliane with his sword drawn, ready to strike her with his blade. A swipe from Craeft’s swerdan dissuaded him from that course of action, forcing him back as Craeft aimed his right hand at the man and unleashed a burst of ice at him.

  “Go!” Craeft yelled, causing Veliane to quicken the pace as she quickly dragged Father Gennadi towards the entrance, the blonde squire following them closely and guarding them. Damir tried to strike once again, but Craeft slammed his hands onto the ground, creating several pillars of ice to force him away from the duo. Veliane shoved the door open, before running out quickly, dragging the older man behind her.

  Damir growled as he threw a knife at their unguarded backs, but Craeft slammed his foot onto the ground, creating a barrier of ice that covered the door, forcing it closed.

  And locking him in with Damir.

  “You…I gave you the chance to step aside last time, and you spurned my mercy.” Bright blue eyes looked furiously at Craeft, the runes on his short sword glinting menacingly. “No more. I’m done with the disturbances. Once I take care of you, I’ll track down Father Gennadi and kill him, and then I’ll meet my associate back at the Valentinovich manor and take part in finally wiping them out.”

  “You can try.” Craeft held his swerdan in front of him. “But I won’t let you succeed.”

  Damir let out a scoff. “The arrogance. You think that just because you’re a squire, that you got a little bit of training, that you’re better than me. I was training with my blades since you were a child. And I know exactly how deadly each and every one of them can be.”

  “As do I.” Craeft spat out. “After all, I felt just how deadly they could be last time.”

  “That you did.” Damir glared at him. “And you will feel it again.”

  Craeft only had a moment to hold his swerdan in front of himself to block the slash aimed at him, the man’s short sword clanging against his massive blade. It slid across the surface of the swerdan, and ice began to quickly spread across his enemy’s sword. Damir pulled back, jumping back from a swing from Craeft’s blade as he spun it, seeking to put some distance between him and his opponent.

  The assailant threw several knives at Craeft, the teen slamming his hands into the ground to produce a wall of ice that caught them. The crackle of thunder filled the air as the ice wall burst apart, Damir having laid his hands on it. He had holstered his sword, and he grabbed two of the knives and began to try and slice Craeft apart with them.

  He knew that this was bad. His swerdan was incredibly useful for piercing armored and tough opponents, but it was heavy and slow compared to most blades. Quick slashing weapons like the knives were difficult for him to deal with. Normally, he’d create the blades along his wrist like he had used to fight the Lusus, but they would melt under Damir’s electricity.

  However, this didn’t mean he was out of options.

  As the man made to cut him across the throat, ice erupted underneath his foot, catching the man off guard as his feet were frozen to the ground. For just a moment, he had overextended himself, and even as lightning flowed across his form and melted the ice almost instantaneously, Craeft struck out with his Swerdan.

  Though the man managed to dodge mostly out of the way, the blade just barely touched his cheek, leaving a small trail of blood trailing down it.

  Damir seemed shocked, dabbing his fingers on the wound as if stunned he could even be hurt. He rubbed the red life essence on his fingers for a moment, as if mulling it over, before looking back at Craeft, a bit of…respect in his eyes.

  “You actually managed to make me bleed.” Damir said as he wiped the blood on his fingers against his crimson armor, the red substance blending in with the color completely. “I’m impressed. You really have been training.”

  “I have.” Craeft replied simply, his guard still up as he held his Swerdan tightly in his grip. “Why would I not train to take down the man who took innocent lives and nearly killed me?”

  “That could have been avoided if you had stepped aside.” Damir said as they began to circle each other. “This whole conflict could have been avoided if you had done the right thing and let me take that noble out. But now, now you brought this upon yourself. Though I have to wonder, why do you protect them, when you so many reasons to hate them?”

  “Don’t act like you know me.” Craeft growled out. He may have had many similarities with the man, many that disturbed him deeply, but he refused to be anything like him. Scum who murdered innocent people without hesitation, who abused their powers to do evil. He was no better than Ms. Alcott had been, hiding behind his righteousness to commit heinous acts. “We’re nothing alike.”

  “We’re both bastards, both rejected by this society.” Damir said simply. “Tell me, were you ever ostracized for the circumstances of your birth, treated differently, treated like you were worth less than others for reasons that you couldn’t even choose?”

  Craeft hesitated for a moment, his expression guarded as he spoke. “Yes. I’ve been treated like garbage my whole life because of the circumstances of my birth. I was an outcast no matter where I went.”

  “Then we have something in common. Both of us are outcasts, unwanted by everyone.” Damir looked Craeft in the eyes. “This place doesn’t want us. Doesn’t want our kind around. So why not change this place, by forcing it to and ridding it of the nobility?”

  “Because what you’re describing is murder. The murder of innocents, of people who have done nothing wrong. You judge them like they judge us.”

  “No. I judge them for looking down on us and thinking they are better than us because they are the legitimate children, while we are left to fend for ourselves, the family looking down on us for daring to exist. They leave us alone, to rot and suffer while they live like kings.” Damir spat out, his expression locked into a grimace. “So yes, I do judge them. Because I hate them. I hate them for having what should be mine, for abandoning me when I needed them, for looking down on me.” The lightning that spread across his form seemed to increase for a moment before settling down. “And I bet you feel the same way too.”

  “Yes.” Craeft replied. “I do hate them. I hate them for casting my mother out, for treating me like trash, for looking down on me like I’m worthless and like I’m just a bastard who will amount to nothing, for being richer than I am and leaving my mother and I to fend for ourselves with nothing but scraps.”

  “Then why are we fighting?” Damir spread his arms wide, as if welcoming a comrade. “Why not join me on my crusade? We can take down these nobles here, and then I can help you take down your family as well. And that’ll just be the beginning. So, what do you say?”

  Craeft hesitated for a moment before he answered.

  “No.”

  “No?” Damir asked.

  “No. I will not join you in this madness.” Craeft replied. “You would kill and murder innocents, without regard if they even did anything. You would destabilize the Empire to spread your cause, and lead to countless deaths as the Lusus and our enemies would attack us in our weakness.” Craeft glared at the man. “There are nobles who are bad, but there are also those who are good. They are people too, flawed just like us.” The memory of Cenr
ic’s apology flooded his mind. “And to be honest, I don’t care what they think of me anymore. I have friends and people who care about me. I already know that I’m worth something. I’m not just a worthless bastard, a disgrace to my family name. I am Craeft Proudhill, a proud squire of the Ascean Empire, and I will do my duty as a member of the knighthood and bring glory to my family by taking you down.”

  “So that is your choice? To work under an empire that treats you like garbage? To have a future of being looked down upon?” Damir asked.

  “They can look down upon me all they want. I don’t think I can find it in myself to care what they think. Besides,” Craeft held his sword out in front of him. “At least I’ll have a future.”

  “So you say.” Damir spoke as he rushed forward. “But I think our blades should decide that.”

  Their sound of steel meeting steel filled the cathedral.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Knight Tsarsko would always talk about how it pays to keep an eye out. To keep a constant look at his surroundings would allow him to live a longer, more fruitful life without having to feel the claws of death trying to snatch him away. Yet, as the moon shone down, Cenric couldn’t help but wonder if he’d rather feel those claws then let the continued boredom overtake him as he walked around the Valentinovich mansion, waiting for an enemy that may not even show.

  He glanced to his right, spotting the city of Krasnolovka in all its glory. Quite the sight to behold from the hilltop of District One where the mansion stood, but it just made him miss his home if he was honest with himself. Cenric preferred the old fortresses back north, the frozen winds feeling like the caress of an old comrade as he wished to feel them once again.