Squire

by Payton Cavallo

  His blade descended and cut through the man as if he was nothing.

  Damir was no longer among the living.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Craeft looked down at the scars coating his arms. Ragged pink cuts littered his limbs, having healed over, whether that be due to his time at the hospital, or potions they must have been feeding him while he was unconscious. They matched the raw red marks on his chest, little burn wounds from the electricity marring it, some of them even going over the nasty mark that had been left on him from Damir’s blade. Still, he was just thankful to be alive after all that had happened.

  He groaned under the effort as he maneuvered his body on the bed. How long had it been since he had been awake? Days? Weeks? He had to know, and to do that, he needed to get out of the bed. He laid a foot on the floor, wincing at the chill, before he laid the other. He gradually pushed himself up, grinding his teeth at the pain in his arms. Seems he hadn’t fully healed from the battle at the church, but at the very least, he could still stand.

  He slid off the bed, nearly tumbling to the floor as he felt weak. It must have been a while since he had been out. Craeft couldn’t remember ever feeling this light and diminished since…well ever. He hissed at the pain, any movement of his arms aching and burning, but he grit his teeth and bared it as he walked over to one of the nearby chairs and plopped down onto it.

  “I see that you’re finally awake.” Veliane said as she walked into the room. She looked exhausted. Small bags had started to form in her eyes, and her usually perfect hair was disheveled, looking as if she had stopped taking care of it. “How’re you holding up?”

  “I feel like how I look.” Veliane let out a snort at the jest. “Could be worse though.”

  “True. Even then, the healers said you wouldn’t be able to take part in any heavy activity for a month, even with the potion regiment.” She tossed the clothes over towards Craeft, the squire catching them. “Here, Sir Finguine thought you’d want to be out of those hospital gown as soon as possible.”

  “He knows me well.” Craeft slowly stood up, before giving Veliane a questioning look. “Are you going to turn around or…”

  “Just get it over with.” Veliane rolled her eyes before she turned away. Craeft quickly slipped off the dingy gown and put on the trousers and shirt that Finguine had gotten him. Nothing special, but surely better than the hospital clothes.

  “Much better.” He wished the knight had deigned to grab him some socks to avoid the cold floor, but he doubted that Finguine really cared that much about his comfort. “How long was I out?” Craeft asked, a morbid curiosity running through his mind at the thought. “Judging by the scars on my arms, it’s had to have been a while.”

  “Three weeks.” Craeft nearly choked on his own spit as her words. He had been out for that long? “You slipped in and out of consciousness, mumbling to yourself, and your eyes would flicker open but you would just stare out the ceiling. For a while, I thought I’d lose you, but…” A small smile flittered across your face. “I’m glad to see that you’re alright.”

  “I’m glad for that too.” He glanced at his arms. “Seems that Damir did more of a number on me then I realized.” Craeft said, leaning slightly into the seat. “But at the very least, we’re safe now.” He paused for a moment before he asked. “Anything happen while I was out?”

  “Well, not much. The city has been on high alert after the second Lusus invasion, even though it was minor. After they hauled off the corpses of Damir and that crow man, things have slowly started to return to normal.” Veliane replied.

  “And what about the others?” Craeft asked.

  “We’re all a little bit beat up but Cenric got the worst of it.”

  “Is he okay?” Craeft asked.

  “Well…he’s alive.” Veliane said. “You want to go see him?”

  “Of course I do, but as you can tell, I’m not exactly in the best of shape.” Craeft said, only for her to roll her eyes at him.

  “I’ll help you walk then.” She grumbled out as she put his arm around her shoulder and helped to lift him up. There was a slight jolt of pain in his arms, but he ignored it as they walked down the halls.

  “He’s not crippled, is he?” Craeft asked, dodging healers as they made their way to the lower levels of the hospital. “I’d hate for that to happen to him, especially after he fought alongside us like that.”

  “No, but the damage to his legs was still pretty bad.” Craeft winced, remembering his cousin writhing on the ground, screaming in agony as the knives dug deeper and deeper into his flesh. “It’s been a while, and even with the potions and healers working on him, he’s a bit messed up.” She stopped in front of a small room, pointing inside. “You first.”

  Craeft nodded at her in thanks before he entered the room. It was large, with several pieces of medical equipment scattered about and a few potions in cabinets lining the wall. In the middle stood Cenric, the teen gritting his teeth as he held onto the walker, struggling to move his legs as he slowly took step after excruciating step. By his side was a healer, ready to help him if he fell, and his teammates watching him nearby.

  “By Miion this hurts.” Cenric ground out. “Scumbag, messing up my legs like this. Wish I was the one who killed him. Would’ve turned him into charcoal.” His legs gave out as he clutched the walker tightly. “Son of a-!” He clamped his mouth shut, keeping the words from leaving his lips.

  “You can do it.” Demora said, standing close to him. “Just a couple more steps.”

  “C’mon Cenric. You always talked all that trash, but if even walking makes you cry like a little baby, I guess you really aren’t cut out for the knights, y’know.” Fedor remarked, which caused Cenric to glare at him.

  “First thing I do when I get my legs working again is use them to kick your teeth out.” The teen growled out. His teammates words of motivation, or rather derision if what Craeft heard was true, seemed to work though, allowing him to take several more steps before he plopped down in a seat. He took several deep breaths, sweat dribbling down his face, before he noticed Craeft.

  “Hey…"

  “Hey…” Craeft replied, his eyes locked with his cousin’s. It seemed that Veliane had struck up a decent friendship with the other squires while he was out, as she went to talk to them, leaving him alone with Cenric.

  “Can you give us a bit of room?” Cenric asked the healer. The man was silent for a moment, seeming to wrestle with the decision before he acquiesced, staying a few feet away. “That’ll have to work.” Cenric grumbled. “First time in weeks I get any privacy.”

  “So…I see your legs are…well,” Craeft made a motion with his hand at the walker. “better.”

  Cenric scoffed, his eyes filled with a mixture of derision and amusement. “Yes, better than the shredded mess they were after Damir stuck several knives in them. If that’s your measurement, then anything short of losing them is better.” Cenric smirked. “Still, at least my wounds were worth something. Nice going dispatching that scum.”

  “Thanks.” Craeft honestly didn’t know how to feel about killing Damir. On the one hand, he knew he should feel bad about it. Damir was a human being, one who knew what it was like to be a bastard. On the other hand, he remembered that as the blade descended and the light left the perpetrator’s eyes, his blood leaking onto the floor, he felt nothing. No anger, no self-disgust, no sadness or remorse, just nothing. If anything, he felt the man deserved it, having lost the basic courtesy and respect that all people deserve the moment he let the lusus into the city.

  He wondered if it was wrong that the emptiness bothered him more than ending the man’s life?

  “But if it hadn’t of been for you and Veliane showing up, I would’ve been in the Eternal Fields.” Craeft dragged his mind away from the topic. He would deal with that issue later. “You were pretty good with those flames by the way. The way you made that explosion,” Craeft smiled, “really helped me take him out when half of him was burned up.�
�

  “It did, didn’t it?” Cenric had a rueful smile on his face. “I’m just relieved we made it out in one piece, all things considered.”

  “Speaking of making it out in one piece, when do the healers think you’ll be ready to rejoin your comrades?” Craeft asked.

  “Eh, a few weeks tops. Take a bit longer to get back into shape, but the medical care they offer knights, and especially the nobility, is top notch. Even if that scumbag lobbed them off, I could’ve gotten some sweet prosthetics.” Cenric said. “Not that I’d want any, but it would give me some good stories to tell to Katel when I get back home.”

  “Katel?” Craeft questioned, seeing the small blush on his cousin’s face. He looked almost wistful, like he was remembering someone dear to him. “Who’s that?”

  “Our maid up north.” Cenric grinned. “Real firecracker that one.”

  “Seems you like her a lot.” Judging by the slight blush on Cenric’s cheeks, he wasn’t wrong in his assessment. “I didn’t know you had a crush on anyone.”

  “I’m not the only one.” His eyes moved towards Veliane.

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Cenric laughed at the reply as Craeft realized his cousin wasn’t the only one with a blush marring his cheeks.

  “I’m sure you don’t Craeft, I’m sure you don’t.” He leaned back in the chair. “But enough about that. I wanted to talk to you about the fight back at the church.” Cenric seemed hesitant for a moment. “I just wanted to say that I was happy to be fighting alongside you. Even if you don’t give me your forgiveness, I’ll always think of you as family, cousin.”

  Craeft paused at Cenric’s words. The boy had never acknowledged their family relation before, at least, not to him. Yet, here he was, saying the words Craeft had wanted to hear since they met.

  The squire extended his hand towards Cenric.

  “And I’ll always think of you like that too.” Cenric gave him a smug smirk as he grabbed the hand and shook it, cementing the bond between them. “Besides, you don’t need to ask for forgiveness. If you hadn’t of shown up, I would’ve died.”

  “Eh, I was pretty amazing.” Cenric bragged. “Though, I gotta admit, it was mostly luck I ended up there. I just latched onto that crow guy when he went into the umbral portal and held on for dear life. Didn’t know he was heading towards the church. Makes sense though. Coward was probably going to grab his friend and head back.”

  “Whatever happened to him anyway?” Craeft questioned.

  “I don’t know.” Cenric shrugged, seeming to not like admitting that. “I know Damir was given over to Father Gennadi and cremated, but I have no clue what happened to him. Veliane said she saw his body burst into black flames. Maybe he had some time delayed runes? Some sort of dead man’s trigger?” Cenric shrugged once more. “Sorry, I got nothing.”

  “Huh.” Craeft took a look around the room. “And what about the Sir Finguine and Sir Tsarsko? Surely, they’d know something about it. People don’t just normally do that when they die.”

  “They seemed just as confused as we were.” Cenric replied.

  “Speaking of them, where are they?” Craeft scratched his head. “I would’ve thought Sir Tsarsko would’ve been here with you.”

  “Oh he was earlier, but he went to go grab us a bite to eat. It has been a couple of weeks, but with me here and you going through all those treatments, Sir Finguine convinced him to get us a little something to help improve the mood. Should be back anytime-“ He heard loud grumbling from the hallway and the sounds of heavy footfalls. “Bet you a couple bronze crowns that it’s him.”

  “That’s a suckers bet Cenric.”

  Sure enough, his cousin’s predictions were correct. Standing in the hallway with a few bags in his grip was Sir Tsarsko, with Sir Finguine right behind him.

  “Grabbed some stew from a restaurant nearby. Better eat up because I’m not spending anymore crowns today.” Sir Tsarsko grumbled as he took a seat, a cold glass of Proudhill ale in his hands. The squires grabbed a bit to eat, Craeft personally enjoying the hot food as he sat near his cousin, passing a bowl to the boy so he could enjoy some too. He was famished, and any food was good to him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to enjoy his meal as Sir Finguine walked up to him, tearing his attention away from the delicious meal in his hands.

  “I see you’re doing well.” Sir Finguine glanced at his arms. “Relatively speaking. Those burns were quite nasty. Lightning magic is never pleasant to deal with, I can tell you that much.”

  “It really isn’t sir.” Craeft would’ve saluted had his arms not been injured. Instead, he nodded at the man, gaining one in return from Sir Finguine. “But I just thank Miion I’m alive.”

  “You shouldn’t have ever been in that situation in the first place. The first missions are supposed to be simple and easy.” A brief expression of anger passed over his face before he concealed it. “Even then, all things considered, this was a success. Damir was eliminated, and that crow guy was killed as well. It seems he was the one letting the Lusus in through those portals he could create. So, good work squire. Enjoy your meal while you rest up. Within a month we’ll be heading back to the academy to grab our next mission. Hopefully, we won’t have to deal with something like this again.”

  “I’m looking forward to it sir.” Craeft replied, and he truly was.

  The whole mission had been one ordeal after another, and though he did like a sense of adventure, it would be nice to have a normal mission.

  He sat with his comrades and enjoyed the tasty stew Sir Tsarsko had provided them before he headed back to his room.

  It was time to rest and let his wounds heal.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A few weeks had passed and Craeft found himself sitting atop one of the many buildings that decorated the First District of the city. The sun was setting, alighting the sky in an assortment of beautiful purples and oranges as it slowly descended on the horizon. He let out a breath, relaxing on the cool metal of the building as he leaned on it.

  With no need to worry about Damir or the Lusus, he felt at ease, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

  It was nice, he admitted to himself as he leaned back and let the slightly cool breeze brush past him. He heard the sound of footsteps behind him and turned. A flash of pink cloth was all he needed to know who it was.

  “It was a bit tough finding you up here.” Veliane said as she blocked the glare of the sun with the back of her hand. “But I managed. It wasn’t exactly hard to find the trail of quickly melting ice that you used to get up here.”

  “Can’t I relax?” Craeft inquired.

  “Not without me.” She plopped down next to him, seeming to enjoy the soothing warmth of the sun. “So what are you really doing up here?”

  “Just…thinking.” Craeft admitted. “It’s been a while since we got here and I can’t help but marvel at all we did, especially on our first mission.” A small smile flittered across his face. “We helped save the city from a Lusus invasion, and took down a criminal as well. It’s just wild to think about how far we’ve come from just guarding a train shipment.”

  “Well, you may enjoy it, but I think we should’ve stayed guarding the shipment. I’ve had enough excitement from this one mission to last me till the end of my enlistment.” Her lip quirked up in a small smile. “At the very least, I am glad we made it out okay.” She looked at him. “Well, relatively okay.”

  “They’re just scars.” Craeft said, though the slight tinge of pain emanating through them reminded him that they hadn’t completely healed yet. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “You say that, but I see the way you wince when someone touches your arm. Those are permanent. They aren’t going away. But…I’m just glad you’re okay.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just…this first mission has been so much more than I’d thought it’d be. Guarding a train seemed easy in comparison to this whole mess, and to be honest, I’d been terrified this wh
ole time, wondering whether I’d be killed by some Lusus or by Damir.” She let a small smile come across her face. “But now, I feel…calm. More assured. I’m strong now, and I’m glad I’ve got a strong friend like you guarding my back. It feels nice, not having to be scared anymore.”

  “And I’m glad I got assigned with you.” Craeft replied. “I don’t think there is any other squire I’d rather be with.”

  Her cheeks alighted under the praise. “You really mean that? I mean, there were all those other squires with abilities that far surpassed mine. I was only average.”

  “You saved my life. You faced the Lusus and Damir, and fought them head on.” Craeft said. “You weren’t average to me.”

  “Thanks, Craeft. You’re really sweet.” She hugged him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. He stood still for a moment, shocked at her actions and the bit of affection she was giving him, before he slowly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her, ignoring the slight pain in his arms. They stood like that for a few moments, Veliane resting her head against his shoulder, before they separated.

  And then she smiled. Not the small ones he usually saw or the small uptick of her lip. No, it was one of genuine happiness. Craeft found he liked her smile, and wished she did it more often. It made her look even prettier than she already was.

  Her smile dimmed slightly as she looked out onto the sunset, the light glimmering across the domed buildings. “It’s beautiful.” She whispered out.

  “Yeah, it is.” Craeft said as the two watched the sun slowly descend. He felt happy being with his friend, relaxing and enjoying his time with her. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the weight of anxiety on his heart. Instead, he felt content. Especially with Veliane by his side. As the sun descended and day became night, Craeft smiled.