Ren’s hand moved a white-figurine shaped like a fighter with a shield and sword one tile forward, setting it across from Nick’s black pawn, shaped like a simple spearman. Light from the clear quartz lamp above glinted off the figurines on the gameboard.

The move was a clear signal Ren was about to use his signature move. All out frontal assault.

Nick resisted the urge to smirk. It wasn’t that Ren was bad at it. His brother was actually able to execute it pretty well against the other kids in town, and even a few adults.

However, it was predictable.

The gameboard of Thrones and Dominions was a battlefield. Square tiles covered the board, with pictures drawn on each square representing terrain such as plains, hills, forests, cliffs, and lakes. Pieces on the board were split white and black, shaped in accordance with their function. Pawn, Fighter, Rogue, Archer, Mage, and Healer. No musketeers, since the game was based on warfare centuries ago.

Besides the generic pieces, there were unique units, inspired by a select few countries. A Vislandan Pegasus Knight, a Voratian Vampyr Centurion, a Northlander Lycan Berserker, an Imperial Sorcerer, an Adrestan Fencer, and an Islelander Bracer.

The goal was to reach the opponent’s castle on either end of the board, and Ren was itching to finally win.

The game was one of Nick’s few personal indulgences. He remembered the first time he played. Ordering and directing units, melding battlefield tactics to a greater strategy, and matching his strength to his opponent’s weakness. Even without experience, all of it seemed as natural to him as breathing.

There were only few border skirmishes thus far as the two of them arrayed their forces.

Nick moved a healer into position to cover his pawn and Ren attacked the following turn. Beginning the first of many battles.

Opposing pieces engaged across the full line of the battlefield. The casualty pile on the sides of the board grew with each turn.

Nick’s forces lost ground, but were taking massive swathes of Ren’s forces for every tile. In the north, two of Ren’s fighters would punch through, only to find themselves in a valley and surrounded by Nick’s archers on hills. At the center, Ren’s rogue barged across a river, capturing it but losing the piece for the price of Nick’s pawn. At the far south, Ren’s Mages and healers would move into line of sight of Nick’s archers to support an offensive, losing their lives in the process.

Frustration draped over Ren’s face as his casualties piled up, but the steel and desire to win in his eyes remained.

Nick was not playing to win. He just wanted to see if Ren had improved at all. Which he had, but not enough. It was clear Ren adapted his strategies, but to defeat the strategy Nick used in the last game. Not the current one.

A forgivable mistake, especially since literature was rife with examples of experienced generals preparing for wars, thinking the next one would be just like the last one.

Ren however was still predictable, and a predictable opponent was an easy opponent, no matter how skilled they were.

As his casualties mounted and his front line thinned, Ren grouped all of his unique units, spearheaded by a Pegasus Knight into a frontal spearhead towards Nick’s castle.

A valiant effort. Like something out of a fairytale, to be sung among tavern bards and told to children around a fire. Unfortunately, reality had fundamental principles which could not be swayed by dramatic effect.

However, Nick figured to throw his brother a bone, or the game in this case. Nick put up a decent fight, setting pawns in the path of Ren’s heroes and maneuvering his own unique units one by one to their deaths. The game concluded with a climactic battle of Ren’s Pegasus Knight against Nick’s Bracer ended in the Knight’s victory as Nick’s castle fell.

“Congratulations,” said Nick. Ren however, looked anything but happy. He narrowed his eyes at his brother, who maintained a neutral smile.

“You went easy on me.”

“No, I didn’t,” said Nick, trying his best not to laugh as he got the impression of an angry hamster from his brother’s face.

Ren pointed at the board. “You could have swept me aside here and here.”

Nick was impressed, maybe his brother was finally starting to learn something after all.

“Your attack was well done,” he said. “Although what you said is true… I was stretched wide trying to react that I couldn’t actually go on the offensive.”

“Liar, you let me win.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“If you want.” Nick sighed. “We can play again.”

“No,” said Ren, looking at a board tattered with Nick’s forces while there was only a smattering of his own. “I’m going to practice some more, get better, then beat you fair and square.”

“You know the best practice is against an actual opponent,” said Nick. “Also… who knows when we will get to play like this again.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden swing of the door. Lara peeked in.

“Hello boys,” she said, drawing a conclusion without looking at the board. “I see Nick has won again. As always.”

“Actually, Ren won.”

“Really?” said Lara, raising both her eyebrows.

“He was going easy,” said Ren.

“Pff-Typical.” Lara rolled her eyes. “Anyways, I need to head back to my camp.”

“Really?” said Nick. “Aren’t you going to be here tomorrow?”

“Orders,” said Lara. “Commander wants us in attendance for the Earl’s ceremony. I think he just wants to be there for the food and wine… However, I did promise to show Scarlet to Vlara and Miri. If you boys are both done playing games, I figured you might want to see her as well.”

“Really!?” said Ren, his eyes widening at the thought of seeing an actual Pegasus.

“Yes really. She is quite gentle, although a bit stubborn sometimes.”

She looked at Nick. “You’re welcome as well.”

“Nah,” he said. “You know how animals are around me.”

“Suit yourself.” However, Lara gave him a knowing look with his eyes. She wanted to talk. Privately.

“You know where to find me.” Nick shrugged, and looked at Ren. “Go ahead, I’ll clean up.”

“Thanks Nick!” he said, jumping up to leave with Lara, and closing the door behind him.

He was alone in the room now, and set to packing things up. Once it was done, he took one final look around.

The divisions among the room the three of them shared were obvious. Along one wall were Miri’s spears. All of varying sizes and styles, set up neat and tight, and gleaming with the shine of well-kept blades. At the edge of her corner was a drawer stacked with old training manuals depicting drills and fighting forms. Her bed was made, blue pillows and sheets tied in perfect, straight shapes. Nothing, one would expect from your average girl, all save a single teddy-bear doll tucked by the pillow. It was characteristically Miri. Mostly work and little play. Wherever she went in life, she’d do well.

On the opposite wall was Ren’s side, and a stark contrast to his sister’s. A wooden training sword sat crooked against the wall. The covers on the bed was a scrunched mess, mixed with random articles of clothing. There were more bits of clothing sticking out from his open drawers. He had books on top, but they were less about anything practical and more about fictional heroes on heroic quests while wooing damsels.

Based on the rather illustrative covers, more about wooing damsels.

He guessed Ren was at that age where he was interested in woman. He still acted like a little kid, but he had a good heart and he’d grow up to a good man.

Nick’s own bed was set against the wall between his two siblings. Simple, plain, with two trunks holding all his belongings below. Under the windowsill where cool air seeped through and where the sunlight would wake him up before the others. This would be the last night he would spend here. Probably forever.

He reached under the bed, pulling out a trunk and putting on fresh clothes as well as a coat. That along with an old fishing pole and a metal container clinking with supplies.

Before departing, he took two stacks of coins from his pouch and shoved them below Ren and Miri’s pillows. Then, he flipped off the quartz-lamp, and slipped outside.

***

The waves of the ocean slithered up the beach. Dark blue water, shimmering under the moonlight, broke, crashed, and reeled up the sands before ebbing back to the sea. A few seagulls cawed above, their shadows retreating to shore to rest.

Nick chewed on a strand of wheat, which he picked up on his way to the dock. Cedric didn’t mind him being there past night-time. Few people came down here anyways, and the old man liked Nick.

His feet dangled off the edge of the wooden platform, murky water swishing below, occasionally splashing against the wooden beams in a white spray. The fishing pole stuck out his hands, with a string dangling under it. One end of the whisked around Nick’s wrist while the other spooled to the watery depths below.

Nick sat there, basking in the peace of the evening, until it was interrupted by the thrum of wings above.

He peeked up to see a figure swooping down. Nick was jealous of the flight abilities of the Nephilim, at one point. The years had smoothed out that particular sore, and he recognized there were certain physical limitations that could not be overcome. His philosophy was to work with what you have, not with what you wished.

As the figure drifted closer, Nick could make out her green ponytail fluttering in the wind, as well as the white armor of the Pegasus Corps. She dove spinning above the ocean like a spiral drill.

“Show off,” Nick thought, cracking a grin.

Lara swerved to shore, landing gracefully at the edge of the docks and taking care not to disturb Nick’s fishing set-up. Nick watched as she retracted her wings and walked over, stopping behind him with both hands on her hips and a frown zipped across her lips.

“Nick.” Lara stared at the bit of straw perched on his mouth. “You aren’t about to acquire a nasty penchant for smoking, are you?”

“Nope,” he said, reminded of Eric’s terrible smell. “Can’t stand that stuff.”

“Good.” She flicked a couple fingers in Nick’s direction. Green aether sparked, sweeping in front of his mouth as a miniature gust of wind, knocking the bit of straw into the ocean.

“Hey!”

“Half the guys and a quarter of the gals in the corps smoke that blasted Barkhan herb,” she said. “How did you put it… easier to build a good habit than breaking a bad one. You should listen to your own advice more often.”

“Always up-front as ever,” said Nick.

“With you,” she said, taking a seat next to him. “Because I’m your friend.

Nick smelled lavender.

“Is that… perfume?”

“Ugh it is,” said Lara.

“Since when did you start getting interested in that?” he said. Lara was never one for feminine niceties, much to her mother’s sorrow. A small smirch on an otherwise perfect daughter.

“Commander’s orders.” She sighed. “To be fair he applied it to both the men and women. Can’t have the whole lot of us smell at a big-wig’s ceremony. He thinks if we douse ourselves in it the night before, it’ll be doubly effective the next day.”

“Like marinating meat before cooking?”

“Exactly,” she shook her head.

Nick laughed, and Lara joined in. As their chuckles settled, they looked out to the beach.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she said. “This used to be his favorite spot. The last time we all came was about six years ago, wasn’t it?

“Yep.” Nick nodded over to the beach. “I remember he used to have us drill on the banks down there when we started complaining. And I thought it was hard enough on plain dirt. I’d have sand grains stuck in my trousers for weeks.”

“I remember that,” said Laura. “It was good though, and I’m grateful for it. He was the best teacher I’ve ever had, better than anyone at the academy. Especially for just a common man.”

Nick wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t just Valdric Thunderfury, one of the greatest Bracers in a generation, without reason.

“Yep,” said Nick. “So… how have things been Lara? I haven’t talked to you since you graduated and went on to train as a Pegasus Knight.”

“Things have been okay.” She sighed. “The training was more or less the same as the academy, with a lot less trips to random places on the continent. Only tough part was bonding with Scarlet. She was a rough one, but she is good now. She was pretty calm around the kids, though I can’t say the same in reverse.”

“I figured,” said Nick. “The two of them would have killed at one point for a Pegasus. I think that is half the reason either one wants to be a Nephilim.”

“Hm… true,” she said. “I’d say the other half is you.”

“Hah,” said Nick. “Me?”

“You know they both look up to you right? I think they just want to make you proud.”

Nick scoffed. “The two of them have a funny way of showing it.”

“Oh, come on, they’re just teenagers. Everyone is awkward at that age, but where do you think Miri learned to be so diligent, and where Ren got that easygoing attitude of his?”

“I don’t think the last bit with Ren is a compliment.”

“I’d say it’ll make him quite popular with the ladies.”

“Heh, don’t say that to him. His head doesn’t need to get any more inflated than it already is. He’s already started to notice girls. You know he had his eyes glued to you for half of dinner.”

“Hah.” Lara tossed her hair, flashing him a coy smile. “Sounds like your problem more than mine.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. What about you though?

“Pff.” Lara hit Nick on the shoulder. “What are you-jealous?”

“As if,” said Nick, hitting Lara back, a fact he regretted as his hands clanked against armor.

“Careful,” she said. “It is forged from silverite. Light but about three times stronger than steel.”

“I can feel it.” Nick winced as he shook off his hand. “I was surprised your mother didn’t bring that particular topic up during dinner.”

“Ugh please don’t get her started.”

Nick smirked. “It must be rough; I’d say almost all the men in town have tried talking to her at some point to meet with you. It is getting to the point they are trying to talk to me to get to you. You know Felix?”

“The watchman?” she said thoughtfully. “He always seemed to have kind face. A bit nervous though at times.”

“He is a pretty nice guy,” said Nick. “I think the two of you would probably get along. I’m sure he’d be willing to go domestic if he got with you.”

‘Going Domestic’ was when a spouse left service for household matters. It was standard fare for Vislandan couples. All Nephilim or Innatum served in the military for four years, during which most people fell in love and found their spouse. One stayed behind after their commitment to raise kids, or go take on a normal occupation. It was usually the woman but not always.

“Maybe,” she said. “I might do it just to throw Volkar off my wings.”

“Him too?” said Nick.

“Sadly, yes.”

Nick shook his head and laughed.

“Honestly,” said Lara. “I don’t think I’ll have much time to worry about it.”

“Things going that bad down south huh?” said Nick.

Lara raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you know more than you should.”

Nick shrugged. “Word on the street. I heard a few more mercenary regiments are being levied. Only reason why is if things aren’t going as great as everyone thinks.”

Lara looked out to the ocean with a serious look on her face.

“Just how bad is it?” said Nick.

“Not everyone in the service knows,” said Lara. “But I’ve seen the casualty sheets. It is bad.”

“How?” said Nick. “Vislandan regiments haven’t taken that many casualties since the House War, and that was a civil war. Do they have that many Bracers?”

“No. Everyone says Bracers, but it is something else.” Her voice went a shade darker. “The rebel forces have something that lets common folk fight us on even grounds.”

“Not to pry but… what sort of things?”

“Some new aether-musket they’ve concoted. Aether-Cannons as well. Armor too. I didn’t believe it at first but word is their power is comparable to spells on the first tier. Maybe even the second.”

Nick’s eyes widened. First Tier spells were the equivalent of an average trained Innatum mage. Second-Tier spells were on the same level as an academy graduate Nephilim.

“If those weapons can reach the power level of second-tier spells,” said Nick.

“They actually might win the war,” said Lara. “Not unless we take drastic measures, but things aren’t looking like that. The Council and the Houses fight among themselves more than anyone else. You know how it is.”

Nick didn’t respond, letting thoughts play out in his head.

“I thought the Imperators were an embarrassment when they lost the southern territories,” said Lara. “Now, I’m not so sure. We are supposed to leave after the whole ceremony to help out.”

“Where are they getting these weapons? The Kingdom of the Isles? That republic down south?”

“Everyone suspects the Adrestans but… Nobody knows whatever or whoever is making and supplying the armaments.”

“But manufacturing weapons like that must require a ridiculous amount of aether. Not to mention quartz and other gemstones.”

“Again,” said Lara. “Nobody knows. I’ve overheard ranking brass say we can’t even figure out how the weapons work. That is scary.”

“Reclaimer City?”

“Doubtful. The Imperators still controls the skies, and there haven’t been any odd shipments that way. For now.”

Troubling news, though in secret Nick wanted the Adrestans and the rebels to win. Charles Diderot’s work was rather enlightening about the whole hierarchy of the world, and he could see how it inspired people to act. In fact, from what Eric said, people in Adresta were living far better now that the Republic was in charge. Barring the royal family and a few Innatum nobles. Less so in the Imperial provinces but they were at war.

Regardless, matters on this continent would be behind him by tomorrow.

“Anyway,” said Lara. “I didn’t come here to talk about politics.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“We touched a bit on it earlier…”

Nick knew what it was, and he already knew the answer. It hadn’t changed since the last time they met.

“No.”

“Nick...”

“Your mother would strangle me and the entire male population of the town would egg her on. So, no.”

“You and I both know that is an overstatement. She would do no such thing and would just have to get over it.”

Nick bristled. One year ago, Lara proposed they get married. It was a terrific engagement for him, at least when looking at its surface. As a common man in Vislanda who lacked the status of an Innatum or Nephilim, a Pegasus-Knight as a partner was unheard of. He would quite literally be set for life.

Not to mention Lara was among the most striking and beautiful woman he knew of, with a heart and demeanor to match it.

It was a deal for Lara too, at least to an extent. She would get her mother and swathes of other suitors off her back. He’d manage domestic affairs and, caring for their children, who would be Nephilim and be welcomed with open arms into society. Leaving her free to focus on her personal goals.

The Nicholas five years ago would have agreed to it in an instant. He remembered being infatuated with her at one point, just as much as any other boy in town. Now?

He had reasons. Ones that existed far beyond any obligation he made to himself or anyone else. Beyond the growing madness that whispered into his dreams and the desire to know who he was.

“Nick,” she said. “Tell me. Why?

“Lara, you know why. I can take pity from anyone else, but I don’t need it from you.”

She tried to hide it but her face gave away the truth. The wide-eyed look of embarrassment however, was rapidly replaced as her brows furrowed in irritation.

“Always so stubborn… Why do you have to be so prideful? Don’t you know I am doing this for you? For Valdric? How is this any different from what you are doing for Ren or Miri?”

And there it was. In truth, he knew how Ren and Miri felt whenever he did something for them. However, they were kids and were to be treated as such.

Pity. Outcast. Seraph-Knight Volkar was an upfront example but he could see it on everyone’s looks if not from their mouths. Even people he liked such as Cedric or Felix and even Laura’s mother. It wasn’t that he hated everyone in the town, it was just he couldn’t imagine living here.

Nick was well aware the rest of the world wasn’t very different. Worse if Eric’s words and the books were true. A world which respected only physical prowess of those who could harness aether, such as the Innatum or Nephilim. Becoming a Bracer was an option, but even that was no guarantee. However, a chance was all he needed, and if tonight was any indication, he had proven he had it in him.

Eric was right that a person in Vislanda could live a very comfortable life. However, for Nick it was stifling, and if he stayed, it would eventually smother him. A slow death.

Better a quick death than a slow one.

He wanted to live like Valdric. Both the one he knew and the one he read. A life driven to excel at something. Anything. Maybe it wouldn’t end well, but at least he knew he tried.

“I know,” said Nick. “But my answer is still no.”

“Fine,” said Lara. “Whatever. I still have another question though. What exactly do you do for the Earl?”

Nick felt his blood freeze.

“What do you mean?”

“I had an interesting chit-chat with Mrs. Mersault and Master Dunwall. It was quite surprising when I found out they are both Cross-level Nephilim. A tutor of that caliber, costs an obscene amount of coin. Let alone convincing them to come to a backwater like this.”

“Oh well.” Nick shrugged, trying to throw off Lara’s suspicions. “You caught me; Turns out the Earl is quite generous with his money. I think he just takes pity on a poor normal soul like me. Just don’t tell the other workers.”

“Is that blood?”

Lara’s eyes were wide as she pointed at Nick’s chest, where the cuff of his shirt revealed a thin red strain peeking past his bandage.

“Shit.”

“Eh,” said Nick, but the surprise in his voice broke the lie. “Just an injury while working.”

He pulled his shirt up to conceal the wound.

“Nick…”

“I told you I’m fine,” he said.

Lara sighed.

“Okay then,” she said. “I won’t push, because I respect privacy and I don’t believe the Earl would do anything less than legal.”

Nick nodded along.

Lara got up, placing a hand on his shoulder. Even through the gauntlet it was warm, and the smell of lavender was still in the air. Nick was quite aware of the effect her touch had on him. He was intimately aware of what he was giving up.

However, life wasn’t without sacrifices.

“If you ever need anything.” She leaned over, pecking him once on the cheek. “Just let me know.”

The kiss was jolting. Electrifying and intoxicating. Nick grit his teeth, refusing to look back as Lara left, her boots creaked with distance against the wooden boards. A gust of wind sent his hair and the fishing line swaying, followed by the sound of wings fading into the distance.

Nick was alone again, and he waited as the feelings dulled and passed.

He hadn’t told anyone he was leaving tomorrow. He had a few letters stowed but didn’t want to do it in person.

Cowardly? Maybe. However, Nick wanted to be resolute in his decision. He didn’t want to risk faltering under the wave of inevitable pleas.

He took one last look at the oceanside.

All the memories from the years gone past came creeping in. The countless hours spent reading, practicing, building, and training. Memorizing starcharts. Writing notes on the bestiary. Charting out plans. Counting coin. Practice upon practice, putting forth the full totality of his mental and physical effort.

He remembered his first months at the Earl’s castle, baying to condescension and snubs of the other workers and countless other visitors. He remembered his first awry attempts at trying to build a boat, let alone fly one. He remembered his first attempts at smuggling, trying to adapt in foreign ports, looking to see where the opportunities were. All to earn enough coin to pay for Ren and Miri’s education, while building the budget for his future.

He remembered the first time he killed another human being. A deal gone wrong. He remembered the next time too. And the next. It stopped once he met Eric, who had won his trust to a certain extent. Enough trust to not worry about being backstabbed.

He remembered the first few weeks and months after his father’s passing. The jeers of the townsfolk, the other kids. Trying to keep their little unit together until Cianna took them in. Remembering Valdric’s promise. Again, more out of pity than anything else.

He remembered those moments where he sat alone, out of sight and other eyes. Never in front of Ren or Miri. Breaking down in the darkness, picking the pieces of himself back up, and steeling it back together by the next morning. Over and over again.

He learned during those moments the only person who could help you was yourself. He learned just how low one could go, and the lengths he would go to rise.

Nick’s childhood ended during those nights.

The line tightened and the pole bent as something tugged against it. He looped it around his hand, reeling in the catch.

A fish, the size of his palm, dangled against the hook. It slapped and flopped on it, desperately trying to escape into the ocean.

Watching it flounder reminded him of himself.

He grabbed the fish by its belly, freed it from the hook, and tossed it back to the sea. Just like how Valdric used to do so.

“Fishing isn’t about the fish kid.”

He used to say stupid things like that. It reminded Nick of simpler times. Simpler days.

Days of late mornings, a few bouts with arms, more fun than serious practice. Dinner around the table, Valdric cracking jokes. He was full of stories too, endless tales of the Paragons and though Nick didn’t know it at the time, of his own adventures with the Companions.

Those days were long past.

Nick set the fishing pole aside. He whipped out the flask, filled with Valdric’s favorite whiskey.

Before the time of his passing, he asked to be set out to sea. Just like how he remembered his earliest memories, abandoned on a tugboat and set adrift. An orphan who was left to the streets in the capital of the Imperium, once enterprising merchants took the boat. A boy who rose from the gutters to become a man at the pinnacle of life.

A man who took in a baby boy, because he felt all kids deserved what he didn’t have. A parent’s love.

“Here’s to you old man,” said Nick, opening the flask and letting the liquid drop to the ocean.

It was why Nick made another promise, after the one Valdric asked of him. To fulfill a dream, he himself could not fulfill. What even the Paragons and the Eight Companions could not. To remove the evil lurking in the Ancient Capital and reclaim the old continent. In honor of the man who was his father.

Valdric asked Nick what sort of man he wanted to be. Well Nick was a man of his word.

“I miss you,” he said, drooping his head.

For the first time in three years, Nick once again broke to pieces. By the end of the night he’d do as he had always done. Pick himself back up and move forward.

The bottle itself was empty but droplets continued to drip to the sea.