The boy stared, wide-eyed, as Eurya strolled casually in front of him, scooping up his training sword and facing off against the false Hero. The Hero, the boy noted with glee, looked uncertain, almost unsettled by her presence. It seemed that he, too, had not noticed the strange woman, until she was right there before him.

The Hero leveled his stolen blade in her direction. "You are interrupting a challenge, my lady. Furthermore, I know of no Seraptis that holds a citizenship in Farathun. Present your identity token!"

Eurya cocked her head quizzically. "Identity token?"

The question was more than enough confirmation. She was not supposed to be here. The Hero attacked.

His pilfered blade was nothing more than a flash of light, so fast that the boy could barely follow it. Five strikes that he could make out, unleashed in an instant on the tall, dark-skinned woman. Each slice came arcing down like a twisting serpent, seeking flesh. Each was perfectly parried with effortless skill.

The boy's evertree blade sang in Eurya's hands, as she gently batted each attack out of the air. There was no brilliant technique on display, simply lazy swipes, perfectly placed and flawlessly executed. A rapid clangclangclang cut through the crowd, and the Hero staggered back, his attack pattern interrupted.

"Not bad," Eurya praised, making the boy scowl, "but how is your defense?"

She stepped forward, and the stone platform beneath her feet seemed to tremor. The Hero's eyes widened in alarm, and he lashed out at the air with his stolen sword. Eurya vanished in place, and appeared in front of him, mid-stride. She danced beneath his frantic blow, and came up inside his guard, the boy's sword in hand. She casually slashed him, gutting the man from groin to gullet and—

The Hero staggered backwards, unharmed, and the boy's eyes widened! His eyes sought his blade and he saw Eurya holding it in reverse, projecting the blunted side forward. The brief moment of satisfaction he had felt was crushed mercilessly beneath reality's heel. He wanted to shout and scream, he wanted to ask ,"Why!?" but he lacked the strength to make demands of the woman.

That was what it came down to, at the end of the day. Strength. Perhaps Eurya was right, after all. Watching her fight, watching her move, was...

Breathtaking.

He hadn't realized the gap between them was so large, but seeing her in action illustrated in perfectly. The new Hero had dodged the boy's strike, but not unscathed. Eurya on the other hand— it had felt like she'd parried it, back in the meadow, which should have been impossible. And yet, it had happened. She parried his Advancing Strike, and walked away without injury. At the time, the boy had assumed he'd simply executed it imperfectly, but after seeing the result of his same technique against this new Hero, he couldn't help but re-evaluate his thoughts. Eurya, it seemed, was truly as capable as she claimed.

Now that he wasn't overcome with horror at the destruction of his evertree he could actually appreciate the woman's skill. As she advanced on the Hero, the boy could suddenly see the truth of the situation. It wasn't a duel. It wasn't an elegant dance between two warriors of equal skill. It was Eurya, effortlessly, lazily leading an initiate around by his nose. It was a spar between an adult and a small, clumsy child, where the adult was trying, so very hard, to let the child win, but the child continuously tripped over his own two feet.

"Poor," Eurya observed with disappointment. "Very poor." She casually swatted aside the stolen blade, then gently ran her blunt edge across the Hero's throat. "You shouldn't try to emulate your predecessor." She briefly halted her advance, allowing a haphazard swipe to pass in front of her, before stepping forward once again. "Without that scary Talent of his, you'll only be a poor copy." She punctuated her words with a vicious swing, clashing against the Hero's desperate parry. He was thrown backwards several paces, then continued to retreat, catching his balance and breath.

Eurya seemed almost bored, choosing to twirl the boy's sword between her fingers, rather than pursue her opponent. She merely observed his quick backpedaling, and raised her eyebrow.

"Now that we've exchanged blows, do you know who I am?" the woman asked curiously.

"You are not a citizen," the hero replied, stepping back and away. His hands were shaking, the boy noticed. It was only the slightest tremor, but it was there.

"No," Eurya agreed. She eyed his stance, the shameful way that he seemed to retreat, and smiled in— the boy refused to believe that was approval. "But do you know who I am?"

"I do not," the hero replied. He licked his lips and slid to the side, placing himself between Eurya and the largest clump of citizens, who had been struck silent by the display of prowess. "But I know my duty."

She smiled. "Your king knows me. He would not object to my presence here. Does that comfort you, little Hero?" The woman laughed, mockingly. "If I was your enemy, you'd already be dead. Stand down."

The Hero's sword wavered hesitantly. His nostrils flared, uncertainty filling his eyes.

"I would not lower myself by lying to you, boy," Eurya said, her voice striking like a thunderbolt. "Put away your sword, before I feed it to you."

The Hero made a most unheroic sound, and immediately sheathed the blade.

"That's not his sword!" the boy exclaimed. He couldn't help himself.

Eurya spared him a glance. "Shut up, Nicos. You've caused enough trouble here." She sighed, running a hand through her scarlet hair. "What a poor student you are, making so much work for your master."

The boy automatically started to deny her claim, only to pause. She was strong. Much stronger than the one he needed to defeat. More importantly, he now owed her his life. That was... not a small debt. Speaking out against his savior would be unconscionable. He'd already dishonored himself once today. Even now, he could feel the cracks in his own Memory, and that of his bloodline. He had sworn an oath, to keep the peace. The scene he had created here, had disrupted the inner city beyond anything he could have imagined.

He could feel his father's eyes looking down upon him, and they were filled with disappointment.

Eurya watched him, and he was naked beneath her gaze. Her expression revealed nothing.

"This is your student?" the false Hero asked, eyes flicking between the boy and Eurya.

Eurya's focus lingered on the boy for a moment longer, before answering, "So it would seem."

The Hero swallowed heavily. "My lady, he challenged me."

"Yes, he does do foolish things from time to time," Eurya noted.

"I can return his identity token," the Hero continued, his voice admirably steady, "but the accusation he levied against me cannot stand."

"Whatever it is, consider it withdrawn," Eurya replied, waving her hand dismissively. She spoke as if the matter of the Hero's honor was beneath her notice. Perhaps it was.

The boy bristled, but held his tongue. He owed her his life, he reminded himself. The words repeated themselves, over and over, inside his mind. She had the right to speak for him, now.

The hero nodded, clearly understanding how out of his depth he was. He flicked his hand towards Eurya, and she snatched the boy's identity token out of the air. She examined it briefly, before muttering, "Oh. So that's supposed to be an identity token. Woops."

She turned to face the Hero. "We'll be leaving, now."

"My lady," the Hero interrupted, and she paused. "Your disciple. He is—" The Hero paused, searching for an acceptable term. "Undisciplined."

"He is," Eurya agreed. She strolled to the boy's side, and lifted him to his feet. Her eyes roamed his, and she smiled. "But he has talent." She glanced back, then held her thumb and index finger close together. "Little 't'. All else can be learned, in time." She tugged the boy away. "Come, Nicos."

The boy gritted his teeth. "He still has my father's sword."

"Does he?" Eurya raised an eyebrow. "And what would you have me do about that? Kill him, and seize it for you?"

"Of course not!" the boy denied immediately. It was his fight. He would never shame himself by involving another. He didn't need her help.

Except he absolutely did.

The two clashing thoughts made him dizzy with frustration, and he could only stare at her, stubbornly.

She grinned at him, amused by his suffering. "Train hard, Nicos, and perhaps you will claim it yourself. In the meantime, we will be leaving this place. Come."

She guided him by the shoulder through the streets of the inner city as if she'd been there a hundred times. The citizens who had witnessed her battle, quickly made room, hugging the walls and scampering past. Silence followed in their wake. And fear.

They passed through the gate into the outer city, with the boy keeping his head low. He had been defeated, disarmed, he had sullied his honor. His life was on a course he could no longer predict.

The gate guard that had allowed him entrance was at his post, and watched him leave.

"Disappointing," he commented stoically, as they passed. The words hurt worse than any blow he could have delivered.

They exited the city shortly after, and reunited with the man in red who had named himself the Keeper. He watched them approach, with sightless eyes.

"I see you found your lost bird," he said to Eurya.

She hummed in agreement.

The Keeper leaned forward slightly. The boy was taller than he, but the blind man seemed to tower over him. His eyes opened, a flash of silver gazing into the boy's soul.

"I sense a stain upon you, boy," he stated gravely. "Your given word, once broken, leaves traces."

The simple words, filled with disappointment, sent a pang of genuine distress through the boy.

"How can I cleanse myself?" he asked with quiet desperation.

"You cannot," the man in red replied simply. The boy flinched, as he continued, "The past is unchanging. Your lie will reside within you, forever. It is a part of your Memory, now."

"I did not mean to break my word," the boy protested weakly.

The Keeper smiled, a sad, soft thing. "Few do."

It hurt to hear. Honor had always seemed like such a vague, undefined thing. A concept worth paying attention to, but nothing more. Yet this man had sensed the boy's failings with merely a glance. Could others do the same? How could he restore his family's legacy, if all knew him on sight as a liar? As a man without honor?

"It will not happen again," the boy said firmly, hardening his resolve. "My word is my bond, and I will keep it." Starting now. He turned to Eurya. "You saved my life, my lady. If you still wish me as a student, I am yours. I will obey you, and learn frrom you, until such time that you think me worthy."

Eurya nodded approvingly at his words, as if the outcome had never been in question at all.

"Hmm," the blind man acknowledged. "So be it."