Summers gasped for breath, he tried sit upright only to be pushed back down, he found Cortez kneeled over him, hands pressed against his chest.

Had she been giving him CPR?

“Holy shit you’re actually alive.” Cortez stared down at him.

Summers only then realized he was in a tent of some kind. He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

“Can you understand me?” Cortez watched him, concerned.

“What? Yeah?…” Summers looked to see thick, black blood pooling around his side. It looked to have been hastily bandaged.

“Stay down.” Cortez instructed. “You were just dead for a solid ten minutes there.”

Summers just stared at her, wide eyed. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking, you creepy fuck?” Cortez swallowed, trying to hide her anxiety. “Seriously, do you even remember what happened?”

Summers blinked. He’d been fighting, then he was on the ground. Everything else was sort of a blur.

Then he heard struggling from outside.

“Don’t think I won’t put you down!”

He recognized Rhodes voice from a distance.

“Shit.” Cortez muttered, hefting her own weapon and offering him a hand. “Forget what I said, can you get up?”

Summers leaned on the nearby wall to keep himself upright. They quickly found the source of the commotion.

Rhodes stood beside Nisha and three of his men with tight grips on their guns. Nowak had blocked the entrance to the tent along with Pat, and one of the twins.

Rhodes himself looked like hell, he was pale, and it was clear that the injury he’d taken earlier had done more than a little damage.

Rhodes spotted Summers, pointing a finger in his direction. “…You have no idea what he is.”

“You want us gone?” Nowak answered. “Give us a fucking boat and we’ll leave.”

“No. Not now.” Rhodes ignored the man, trying to push past him before Pat stepped in his way.

“He doesn’t deserve this.” Pat looked to Nisha. “Tell him I’ll have my father vouch for him. That should be enough.”

Nisha seemed uncertain but translated for Rhodes. “The Payrst said the councilman –“

“I don’t give a fuck what his daddy says.”

Nisha tensed but said nothing.

Summers could still hear the intermittent pops from the guards on the wall. The battle hadn’t ended, despite everything, this was just a break in the action.

Men stared down from the wall. Mostly Rhodes, but a few from their own squads. Their weapons weren’t drawn, but Summers could see that changing if things went sideways.

“You don’t want to do this.” Logan spoke from behind Rhodes. “Just let us go. You’ll never have to deal with us again.”

“If it means putting him down, I don’t give a shit what happens afterwards.”

Rhodes looked at Summers with open hostility.

Summers just stared back, more puzzled than angry.

“What the hell is this about?”

Rhodes paused for a moment, seemingly surprised to hear Summers speak. “Name and rank.”

“What?”

“Give me your name. And your fucking rank.”

“Corporal Alex Summers…”

Rhodes looked at Summers, genuinely confused.

“We’re not letting this happen.” Nowak spoke with his weapon pointed at the guard beside Rhodes.

Nisha put a hand on Rhodes’ shoulder, gesturing to Pat. Summers had no idea what kind of political clout the kid had but apparently it was enough to give the two pause.

Rhodes considered him for a moment before looking back to Summers.

“Tell them I want to hold this son of a bitch on trial.” He looked back towards Nisha. “That’s their law, right?”

Nisha hesitated a moment before nodding.

Summers barely registered what was happening before the guards began to relax. Everyone but Nowak.

“You hear that? We’ll do it nice and fair. He’ll get his moment. So, hand it over, sergeant.” Rhodes gestured to Nowak’s rifle. “You too.” He pointed to Cortez.

Summers eyed the men on the wall. The nervous glances the men gave each other. For all he knew, Rhodes would tell his men to kill him the moment they let their guard down. But if it meant avoiding a bloodbath, that might be worth it. He put a hand on Nowak’s shoulder.

“…Fine. I accept.”

They were taken back to the castle shortly after. Nisha had argued that, because both Rhodes and Summers were injured, they should be given time to “prepare.” Whether that had been for his benefit or Rhodes, he couldn’t tell.

Pat had explained that Bard and Orvar were injured in the fight and being cared for as his “guests”. He’d commandeered the others in his squad to speak to his father. Summers had no idea what any of that entailed but the kid had promised him every bit of his support and given him very little reason to doubt that. The others just stared at Summers with wide, terrified eyes. That included the men on the wall.

And so, Summers sat with Nowak, Cortez and Logan in the common room. Guards had been posted in the hallway outside their door in a not-so-subtle display of power, and although they’d each been armed with rifles, they still watched him with an expression Summers speculated was “barely concealed terror”.

Whether that was a good thing or not, they’d find out.

“So, anyone want to fill me in on what just happened?” Summers looked to the others.

They were all looking at him with a mixture of concern and worry.

“Are you serious right now?” Cortez watched him.

“You killed a lot of people.” Nowak started. “Like, a lot.”

“All right…” That wasn’t news to Summers. He’d remembered fighting… something.

“No, let me be clear.” Nowak reached over to the table in front of them before picking up a small butter knife, then he looked Summers dead in the eye. “You were the most terrifying fucking thing I have ever seen in my life.”

“It was awesome.” Cortez agreed.

Summers looked at the others, they all had their eyes glued to him, expressions of worry on their faces.

“…Is that why you’re all looking at me like that?”

“…You might want to look in a mirror.” Nowak played with the knife for a moment before offering it to Summers.

He took the handle and looked at his own reflection in the blade.

His eyes were black, as was most of his mouth.

“…Fuck me.” Summers kept looking at himself from every angle. “This will wear off, right?” He angled the knife towards the side of his head. His ears were as long as an elves’ now. “What the fuck…”

Summers only just noticed his clothes were covered in blood. His skin, however, was clean. He looked at his hands, they were spotless. Every instinct he had told him that didn’t add up.

“The good news is you did the job.” Nowak tried to grab Summers attention. “Between you, the refugees, and everyone on the wall we figure they lost around 1500 men.”

Summers stopped panicking long enough for that to set in.

“They still have enough to take us out.”

“Nobody commits to an attack like that in real life.” Nowak explained. “They just had nearly a third of their force wiped out on their first real push. There’s a good chance they’ll just cut their losses.”

“For what it’s worth, I saw Nisha speak to some of the cities’… I think they’re nobility. The fact I could tell an elf was relieved should say everything about what they’re thinking.”

Summers considered that.

“Don’t suppose any of you know what ‘Payrst’ is?” Summers held his head in his hands. “’Pat’ gave me his title when we started this whole, training thing. I didn’t think it was anything important.”

“He gave you a title.” Nowak retorted. “In a world where only, important people have titles. And you didn’t think it was important.”

“To be fair I’ve been a little fucking distracted.” Summers gestured to himself.

“I have no fucking idea, but if his dads on the council I’m going to bet it means heir.”

“Or prince.” Logan added.

Summers repressed a groan. He took another look at his eyes. He couldn’t even see the iris.

Hell, with how he looked like right now, he could almost understand why Rhodes was after his blood. Not that he didn’t look forward to snapping the bastard’s neck for the trouble.

Then he realized they had another problem.

“You said I killed people, right? Everyone saw that?” Summers looked to the others, they each nodded, if a bit hesitantly. “So why the hell does Rhodes think he can fight me?”

Nowak cleared his throat, looking more than a little worried.

“My guess is, he’ll be using a gun.”

“…Oh.”

Summers laid on the floor as Nowak peeled back the bandage on his side. He winced more out of habit than any actual pain.

“Was it bad?” Summers looked at the wound.

“Didn’t look deep.” Nowak answered.

The wound hadn’t been bleeding or doing much of anything. Summers had assumed since he wasn’t staining the carpet it was fine, but Nowak had insisted on taking a look.

“…You’re not going to believe this.” Nowak spoke from his side. “But uh… you’re completely fine.”

Summers blinked, before looking down at his side. It was nothing but smooth skin marred by a thin, pale scar.

“…huh.”

…At least this new look had perks.

He heard the door open, and turned just in time to see Nisha, Synel, and Asle in the doorway.

“You have guests…”

Nisha bowed, but the other two had frozen in place, shoulders tense.

His friends had watched him fight and seen him afterwards. They’d actively helped save him, so they knew what to expect.

Summers tried not to let the hurt show on his face, instead he got to his feet, holding his hands in mock surrender.

“It’s okay.” Summers managed to get out in the most nonthreatening voice he could manage. “I’m still getting used to it myself.”

They said nothing at first. Then Asle took a step forward, moving up to Summers and wrapping her arms around his waist. He looked down to see her normally placid face wearing an expression somewhere between anger, and worry, squeezing with what Summers could only assume was everything she had. Both Synel and Nisha suddenly found the décor of the room very interesting.

It took Summers a moment before it registered just what was happening.

He laid a hand on Asle’s head, smiling down at her.

“It’s good to see you too.”

“You’ve accepted the trial, so there’s nothing we can do for you.” Synel spoke solemnly, as if she was giving him a death sentence. “I’m sorry.”

Synel sat across from him on the couch, Asle sat between Logan and Cortez, she spoke quietly with the others while Synel got over her initial apprehension. For what it was worth, the woman had done so quicker than Summers would have expected.

“He can use any weapon at his disposal. Any he owns, or any that would be lent to him.” She continued. “If he decides to hold the trial in an area he controls, it’s likely you would be unarmed.” Synel watched him with a little more emotion in her eyes than he’d normally seen. “Powerful men often use this as a means to kill their subordinates.”

“So, you’re saying I’d be put against Rhodes, bare handed, while he has his pick?” Summers asked.

“…Most likely.”

He blinked, only now fully understanding the kind of danger he was in.

Summers looked to the others, only just realizing they had no idea what he was saying. In their time on the road Summers had tried to teach some of the local language with Asle’s help, but it had been spotty at best.

“She says I’m fucked.”

Synel tilted her head at that.

“Sorry.” Summers rubbed the back of his head. “Don’t suppose you’ve had any luck getting out of here?”

“Yes, actually.” Synel stood, pulling a small piece of paper from her pocket. “I’ve found a ship willing to take us south.”

Asle walked alongside Logan and Nisha. While Synel was allowed free reign of the castle, she need to “return to her duties”. Logan had insisted on escorting her back to “her” section of the castle. In truth, she was grateful. Once word of the trial had reached the servants, she’d begged Synel to pull some strings.

She’d lived long enough to see more than one trial like this, a chief or governor that chose to deal with an uppity soldier, or his daughter’s admirer. She knew what was coming, and what her place in all this would be. Depending on how things went, it could be the last time they’d see each other.

She just wanted to say goodbye, just in case.

“Is this still about honor?” Logan questioned, looking at Nisha. “Because I don’t see it.”

“I owe my life to him twice over now.” Nisha replied.

“And that makes this okay to kill that man?” Logan glanced down to the girl at his side. “Asle I’ve saved your life. Do you think I would ask you to do something like this?”

“No.” Asle answered truthfully.

“Do you think Summers would?”

“No.” She repeated.

“You know I used to have a daughter.” Logan watched Nisha carefully. “I lost her about five years ago, and I’d do anything to get her back. I’d have given anything to the man that could do that for me, I’d even give my life, because if that was the price then so be it.” He looked down to Asle for just a moment.

“…Then you understand this is the price I’m paying.”

“No, there’s a difference. Rhodes didn’t save your life. He’s taken it from you. And I don’t think you realize that yet.”

Then they came to the door that would lead to Asle’s “residence”.

“Return to your room, please.” Nisha’s tone was polite, but Asle could hear the emotion underneath it.

Logan only hesitated a moment, hugging Asle goodbye, and turning to leave.

“You talk a lot about honor, but you’re just using it as an excuse not to think.”

Summers tossed the knife with everything he had, it flew through the air, embedding itself in the wall with a crack.

“Okay, that was badass but no. Not even a chance that’ll land before a bullet.” Cortez studied the knife. It had buried itself a few inches into the stone. “Assuming you can get a spear though, you’d definitely take him out.”

“All right, then I’m out of ideas.” Summers sat on the ground, rolling his shoulder.

“Pat could come through. Maybe he can get someone in there with a gun…” Nowak considered.

“Or we could just let him fork the guards outside.” Cortez gestured to the cutlery still on the table.

“We could. And it might even work, but we’re still unarmed and even if Summers…” Nowak motioned to him vaguely. “Does his thing, archers could still take him. He had us covering him during that fight, remember?”

Summers sighed. Thinking back on when they’d met Rhodes, they had options, but nothing he liked the odds on. And they’d probably need Synel’s help.

“We’ll think of something.”

Nowak sat there, thumb pressed between his eyebrows.

"Assuming we don’t…”

“Then I’ll kill him, and he’ll kill me. And you two can stay with the caravan.” Summers spoke as casually as he could manage.

“Not what I meant.” Nowak pressed. “Look I didn’t say anything on the wall because I never expected we’d get into the shit. If something happens… do you want us to do anything?”

“Sarge -” Cortez chided him.

“I’m only bringing it up now so he can think it over.” Nowak held a hand up to Cortez. “Worst case scenario, it’s more than most people would get. Maybe write your mom a letter?”

Summers froze. The other two must have noticed because they immediately stood.

“You all right? What’s wrong?” Nowak moved closer.

“…My mom…” Summers looked up at him. He hadn’t noticed it until just now. “…I can't remember anything about her...”

It was late at night when Asle found Rhodes watching the beast she’d come to know as the Hamr. He was just sitting there, staring at it, muttering something incomprehensible. She’d made the trip down to the far end of the castle a few times, hoping to find him in his usual spot.

“What do you want?” Rhodes didn’t bother to do more than glance in Asle’s direction.

“To talk.” Asle moved down the stairs to the courtyard. It was empty. It usually was, nobody but Rhodes liked to spend time here.

Her skin crawled just knowing that thing was watching her.

“If you’re trying to convince me to leave your friend alone, I’m sorry to say that’s not happening.” Rhodes turned to look at her. “I’m doing this for your own good, little lady. I’m not sure what he is, but he’s not your friend anymore.”

“I don’t think you have friends.” Asle answered. “Not really.”

“…You might be right.” Rhodes shrugged on one side. “But this is bigger than you, or me. I will be deep in the ground before I let those fucking things gain an inch.”

Asle just stared at him, impassive.

“…What the hell am, I saying? You’re just a kid.” Rhodes turned away. “Get the fuck out of here before I call someone.”

Rhodes turned away, clearly done talking.

He’d done nothing but use her friends since they’d come to the city, for weapons, to save face.

Slowly she reached into a slit at the hem of her dress, for the holster still at her thigh. He'd taken everything from her friends, but they'd never even looked at her.

He'd never considered that she'd be a threat.

“…What-“

Bang!

Rhodes surged upward out of his seat, the shot tore through his side, spraying blood in a mist behind him.

She fired twice more, the shots going wide as Rhodes tore the gun from her hands. Asle stumbled back away from Rhodes as he fell to one knee, gripping his side in pain.

“You little b-” Rhodes was cut off as the ground suddenly shook.

Asle watched in horror as the beast bound to the wall began writhing. Its skin was bubbling, just where the spray from her bullet had hit.

Rhodes hesitated only a moment before he tried to run.

This time he was too late. The thing crashed into him, convulsing, the sound of bones snapping resounding in the courtyard.

Then all at once, it stopped, and a single arm reached out from the monster's back.

Asle ran, a chorus of wet flesh tearing followed behind her. She didn't dare stop, even as servants spilled into the hallway. By the time she'd reached the doorway to her friends' wing all she could hear was an ear-splitting, inhuman scream.