--- Roric

Roric followed Kandros through the streets of Rayol, trying not to get lost and keep up with his pace.

The young paladin led him into a poorer district of the capital, navigating among the crowd with expertise. He must have been used to act under cover, because he kept his armour and holy ornaments well hidden under an old cloak and walked in a very inconspicuous way, much differently from his fellow colleagues. The boy knew that he had absolutely no reason to trust Kandros, yet that man represented his best chance of putting the Order on Rickhart's trail.

The only problem will be convincing him. He surely looks like he wants to go deeper... I wonder what kind of information he needs, however. They already heard a lot during Lady Ainar's questioning.

"Come, this way," said the paladin, pointing in the direction of a cheap tavern. "There won't be any prying eyes or ears in there."

They entered and took place at a corner table. Kandros lowered the hood, and long strands of brown hair fell on the sides of his face. Roric guessed that he had to be in his mid twenties.

"So, what do you want to know?"

"Let's get straight to the point," started the man. "I have to say that your story caught my attention, even if it sounded a bit unbelievable. Still, I couldn't ask for details in presence of the commander and the rest of the people earlier."

"Why, mister," asked the young mercenary. "Why did they treat me so badly?"

"It's because of Tolwin, I'm afraid. Under normal circumstances, they would at least send someone to check. These days, however, Lady Ainar and the council have become a little overzealous towards heretics. Once they set their eyes on one, they won't look anywhere else."

Roric nodded, and let him move on.

"So, as I was saying," explained Kandros. "My commander overlooked so many things that I deemed important and I'm eager to fill in the gaps. For starters, I want you to tell me what you found inside Lord Stelvan's mansion. Everything you can remember."

"There were... Bodies. The cult was doing some kind of ritual in there. We found a diary, written by Rickhart's grandmother, that pointed at her as the head of some group... But then we found that she had fallen ill and was close to death, or so it seemed because her nephew told us that she was alive and well, and that she was also a teacher to him"

"So, the necromancer is one and he is the boy. Did you find Lord Stelvan's remains?"

Roric struggled to remember. They had visited the man's bedroom, but all they had been able to find were dark stains on the sheets...

"Blood. There was just a lot on blood on his bed."

"That bastard," commented the paladin. "He must have killed his own father. And I know enough about the dark arts to guess the reason."

The boy gulped, because he had always had some suspects as well.

"Resurrection. A very dangerous ritual," said Kandros. "He used Stelvan's soul as a token, being a close relative of hers. His grandmother's spirit must have been still around, if her death had occurred only a couple of days before then."

"That's why... In the diary, she was telling him to get back at once. She wanted to prepare him for the ritual! But wait, is she an undead now?" asked the young mercenary.

"Something different. People who undergo that process get to retain their free will, if their soul is powerful enough, it is. She was probably proficient enough to keep it intact while she waited for the nephew. Still... He really did it? He must be crazy, by now."

"All this to avoid her death... It's terrifying."

"Sickening. I've hunted necromancers before and trust me, not many have the guts to attempt a similar rite," said the paladin. "There are many risks involved in bartering with... Evil entities. Those beings don't like being disturbed."

Evil entities... What is he talking about?

Roric didn't dare to ask. To be honest, he didn't want to know either. No wonder Rickhart looked completely insane during their brief meetings.

"Let's talk about the battle, now, shall we? There is still something else I need to know."

"Of... Of course," answered the boy. "What about it?"

"To be able to summon such an army at the same time a necromancer would need a grimoire, a tome of ancient and forbidden spells. Did he have some kind of book with him?" inquired Kandros. "The spirit beams you described are powerful magic. Did he shout something in a weird language before using them?"

"No, I'm sure if it. He just did a gesture with his hand."

The paladin stopped, seemingly lost in thought.

"That shouldn't be possible. Unless..." he said. "You are lucky to be alive, boy. I really mean it. Commander Lowan might have stumbled into something really big."

"Will you help, then?" asked Roric. "With an investigation, I mean."

Kandros sighed, glancing at the rest of the patrons. He tapped on the table nervously for a couple of seconds before giving his reply.

"Your story doesn't sound real, and that's what lured my interest. I'm alone in this, but I'll definitely go and take a look."

The young mercenary felt better. He had probably found the only person in Rayol willing to help him.

"Can I come with you?" he promptly offered. "I can give you directions and-"

"No," replied the paladin. "I'm sorry, but I work alone. Strictly."

An uncomfortable silence fell among the two. The tavern was packed for lunch, but in that moment it seemed like Roric and his new acquaintance were alone. The young man lifted his eyes, and sighed again.

"It's not like I couldn't use your help, but I have my reasons," he explained. "My partner was killed by the necromancers a couple of years ago. Since that day, I devoted my life to get rid the land of their existence."

"Can I... Ask you how it happened?"

"She was a couple of years older than me," said Kandros. "A beautiful girl. We couldn't get married while being in the Order, but I loved her nonetheless. And she loved me too. As long as we did our job, the Elders didn't punish us for our feelings and seemed to have let the entire thing slide."

He took a brief pause. It was obvious that even mentioning that person was painful for him. Roric knew about it too well.

"One day we found ourselves on the trail of some cultists, in a small town near the border with Orinna. They were pretty similar to the ones you have found in Stelvan's mansion, but they already had clues that we were coming. My beloved told me to guard the rear of their hideout while she went in and checked the place..."

The paladin took a sip of beer. His eyes looked so sad that the young mercenary wondered if he was on the point of breaking down. Clearly, the members of the Order weren't devoid of feelings like they often pretended to be.

"I don't know how much time had passed when I finally heard her screaming and barged in. What I found was... I can't describe all the things they had done to her. My... My beautiful love."

Roric bowed his head. He was aware of how shocking it was to lose someone you cared for. As he had learned during the past few years, seeing it happen before your very eyes was even more devastating.

"They were still there, laughing and chanting their dark spells," went on Kandros, with a wild eye. "I left behind a good part of my teachings that night. Being merciful, and bound by honour... Bullshit. They weren't ready for it. I stabbed them. Cut them. Blew them apart with all the magic I knew. I got a couple of wounds in the process, but I didn't care. When I was done, the room was unrecognizable."

The boy tried to picture the scene in his mind, but instantly regretted it. Whatever the paladin had done, it was definitely miles away from how a member of the Order was supposed to act.

"What... what happened to her?" he timidly asked.

"She... She was already dead when I freed her body from the chains. Without her I was completely lost, but after some time I came to realize what my purpose was," concluded the young man. "And I plan to continue my crusade, even if I have to break the rules every now and then."

"So, this is why you are helping me. Revenge."

The paladin clenched his fists.

"Justice. The Order has grown weaker and weaker since the collapse of the Old Crown. The ancient laws strictly regulated the spreading of forbidden magic, and nothing could slip by the eyes of the Holy City during that time. Keeping the innocent safe is a much harder task now and thus, they blame the heretics. You heard Lady Ainar. She is good at dealing with the Senate, I admit it, but she doesn't realize how detrimental her attitude is."

"I was disappointed," said Roric. "When she told that nothing could be done. Rickhart is bound to appear again, sometime, and when it happens nobody will be there to stop him. Many more might die."

"That's why I came to you, Roric. During the questioning I had a clear feeling that you had a good heart and just wanted to do the right thing. Don't worry, I've got this."

"Thanks," answered the young mercenary. "It means a lot to me."

"So," asked Kandros. "What will you do now? There are many mercenary companies around here. I can give you a couple of good names, if you want."

"I don't know yet. I have had enough of battles, for the time being," explained the boy. "Plus, I don't really like Rayol. I might even go back to Guhrien, for all I care."

The paladin nodded. "I can understand. This nation is sick, if you ask me, and this city is the root of all the problems. The Senate stopped caring for the people a long time ago, crime runs rampant and the Order isn't as it used to be. Soon the Republic will collapse, but I don't know if I'll still be here to witness such an event."

In truth, since I walked out of that questioning I started thinking that I wanted to go home. But I'm not sure if I have one to speak of.

The more he thought about it, the more the young mercenary realized that he longed to live a quiet existence somewhere else, far away from all that insanity. He had spent so much time fighting that he even doubted his choice of leaving the orphanage, now.

A simple, easy life. No battles where you could lose everything in an instant. The boy definitely needed to find somewhere to settle in. What better place to begin his search than Guhrien, his native land? He would have found plenty of work in the city of the many granaries.

Not that I have many choices. I'm all alone, now. All the friends I made along the way are gone. Tolwin died and who knows if he is going to be ever avenged...

Roric pushed the tears back, because he didn't want to cry in front of Kandros. His hand went instinctively to his mother's necklace, something he had been carrying for years but that still managed to give him courage.

"Alright," said the young paladin, in that moment. "I'll be going for now. I'm paying you a night here, so get some rest. You can have these, too."

He threw a small sack of coins on the table. The young mercenary opened it, finding that it was enough to survive at least a month.

"I... I can have this? For real?" he babbled. "Are you sure?"

"Sure, keep it. We paladins get a lot of spending money for our needs," answered Kandros with a bright, encouraging smile. "I hope our paths will cross again, in the future. Be safe, Roric."

He left with a nod, leaving the boy at the table and disappearing under his hood once again. Roric blinked two times, checking the exact value of the coin purse, then he silently thanked that kind, heartbroken man. His story was probably even sadder than his own.

***

The sun was high in the sky.

Roric walked on the road, enjoying the scenery of that late summer day. After almost four years spent away as a mercenary the boy finally spotted Guhrien in the distance. There were a lot of people on their way to the city, merchants and farmers alike, all of them carrying stuff to sell at the busy market of the town.

The last time he had seen the capital of the Duchy, Roric was just a little kid. He remembered the pleasant weather of that day, but also the grief and loneliness. Those same feelings were still with him. Memories of his parents, of his friends and companions often came to visit his dreams as well. During the previous month he had traveled back to Guhrien without any rush, camping by his own and dealing with horrible nightmares one after the other. Still, as time passed, the boy was starting to realize that he could endure them. He was growing. Adapting.

Roric didn't fully know how to use his powers yet. He had taken a couple of hours each day to practice while still on the road, but all he could manage was producing few sparks between his fingers. That, however, was a compelling challenge by itself and he was in a dire need of something that could keep his mind occupied.

I can't be a mercenary anymore, this much I know. Wherever my future leads, I need to become something different. Even if I was trained to be a warrior. Even if I am an Elemental. There must be a place for me, somewhere in the world, and I will find it.

He clenched his fist around the strap of his backpack. The food he had bought with the money received from Kandros was almost finished, and the boy had to find a job as soon as possible. Nonetheless, he wasn't scared.

Glancing at the lake and the city on the horizon, just like four years before, Roric could clearly feel how much he had changed. The weight of the sword on his back constantly reminded him of that. He smiled, thinking about those times when even lifting a weapon was an impossible task, and how traveling with it had become much easier now that he was used to it. The boy was well aware of the fact that he could grow even stronger, but for the moment having that blade and knowing how to use it made him feel safe enough. Had a common ruffian attacked him on the road, he could have defended his own life.

Somewhere ahead, as he went on, a wagon popped out. One of its wheels was busted or broken, or so it seemed. Its owner stood at the side, desperately looking for help. Roric took a deep breath and smiled again.

Alright. It's time to start over.

He adjusted the grip on his backpack and dashed forward.