Sunlight shone into Roland’s closed eyes, waking him gently. Something the aching pain he felt throughout his entire body should really take an example from.

Straining his muscles with a groan, he fully felt the consequences of yesterday’s disaster. Turning his head to the side, Roland experienced, besides blinding pain, a scare much too intense for the start of his day.

“Motherfu...!” Roland cursed, shuffling away from the eldritch abomination in front of him.

“Ahhehhuhh,” noises not out of this world came from the slowly awakening monstrosity. All hope seemed to be lost, as Roland in his ignorance had called upon the end of days.

“Morning, Roland,” the sleepy Thomas mumbled groggily, slowly raising his head from Roland’s bed. He had apparently slept sitting on a small chair right next to it.

“Morning, Tommy,” Roland greeted his loyal but much to close friend. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Of course,” Thomas replied matter-of-factly while awkwardly moving his neck, most likely sore from the strange sleeping position. “Gotta protect you after all.”

Not sure if you sleeping next to me is the way to go about that.

Under the strong protest of his body Roland stood up, taking a moment to examine his current state. He somewhat remembered his three companions pasting a bunch of salves all over his wounds after he had dried off, before he passed out instantly upon touching the bed.

The bandages applied to his smaller wounds looked fine, but any professional would cry tears of despair upon witnessing the abomination covering half his face. Better save then sorry looked to be the most likely motto of whoever had been in charge of that one.

Roland steadily removed the bandages, which seemed plentiful enough to mummify a small child, before carefully touching his cheek. The expected pain however did not come.

Huh, guess Stephan brought the good stuff.

Further examination of his other wounds confirmed his resourceful companion had in fact splurged on the healing salve, maybe because of the imminent public training session tomorrow. Or more likely to make up for his earlier blunder.

Either way I’m not going to complain about healing faster.

In a weird twist of fate this meant that his bigger scrapes and bruises were all perfectly fine, whereas the lesser hurt parts ached like no tomorrow.

Putting on his now dry clothes under the curious gaze of his roommate, Roland thought about the chaotic way yesterday ended, and how it would affect their future plans.

He wasn’t surprised about Ayer’s knowing he possessed a special ability, for while he made sure its exact scale remained unknown, he could hardly hide everything if he still wanted to save people.

Ultimately his duty should be more important than personal safety. Though some unnecessary whispers disagreed quite strongly with that, sometimes managing to make a ruckus despite being locked away tightly.

I never thought I could hide it completely, but getting drugged by a noble heir is still a lot more interest in me than expected.

Even though Roland had saved countless people throughout the years, his strange methods made it so only a handful of them were actually attributed to him. Most of which furthermore ended up appearing a lot less serious than they were. After all, escorting a lost old man home did not look quite as heroic as preventing said man from freezing to death in an alley.

Adding in their countless patrols throughout the city and Roland’s usual carefulness, there should be little chance for anyone guessing the true extent of his abilities.

Though that doesn’t mean they can’t speculate.

Sighing at his bad fortune, Roland hoped Ayer’s little interrogation was motivated fully by Claire’s situation, and not him testing the water for further inquiries.

For all I know the City Lord’s existence might be the only thing keeping me away from a surprise visit of the Toktuam’s basement.

Fully clothed, not interested in further worries about things he couldn’t change anyway, Roland headed towards the door. Bright sunshine falling through their dirty little window, as well as supporting evidence in form of his screeching stomach, gave him a good idea of just how long he had been asleep.

Luckily there were no visions tonight, otherwise I’d have awoken before being sufficiently healed for sure. Now to get some lunch and hopefully make today less of a debacle than yesterday.

Exiting their room with Thomas hot on his heel, the latter staying surprisingly quiet due to most likely knowing their destination, an expected sight greeted Roland.

Nonchalantly leaning against the wall while reading a small booklet was his favorite little giant.

“Morning, Boss,” Arthur greeted his leader. “Got enough beauty sleep?”

“Don’t you see this glow. People will stare at me for sure,” Roland replied cheekily. “Thanks for keeping the rabble away.”

“Yeah, that’s why they’ll stare,” Arthur chuckled. “Not because of the countless rumors going around.”

Roland grimaced at the mention of his nemesis. Like any good enemy they sometimes helped built his and the Crescent Moon Helpers’ reputation, most of the time however they were a gigantic headache.

“That bad?” Roland inquired, expecting the worst.

“The tamer ones are about you fighting against that rich brat to compete for Claire,” Arthur gleefully told his friend the latest gossip, fresh from the mouths of anyone bored or in need of attention. “Now for the more extreme ones, there is talk about you offing him somewhere, and how our orphanage and the nobles are now at war.”

Eyes twitching at the imagination some people displayed, Roland wanted to go back to bed. Sadly, nourishment was somewhat of a requirement for his continued survival.

“Did you really kill that guy, Boss?” the quiet question from their third member briefly highlighted the strength of rumors.

Before Roland and Arthur could think of a funny way to mess with their half-awake friend, the latter managed to impress them using his wide berth of questionable knowledge.

“You should bury an animal above the corpse,” Thomas whispered, shiftily looking around to make sure no one else heard or saw them. “That way it’s harder for them to find it.”

The disturbed looks Thomas’ friends gave him for his highly logical idea were very much deserved.

“Is what Stephan told me,” Thomas blamed it all on their fourth member, uncomfortably sweating under their gazes.

What is that idiot teaching our poor Tommy?

“We in time for lunch?” Roland asked Arthur as they headed towards the courtyard, choosing to disregard Thomas’ failed moral education for now. “Or are we going to experience the pain of leftovers one day after eating at Grandma’s?”

“Don’t have to worry about that, our timing couldn’t be better,” Arthur noted. “Still lunchtime, but late enough most people have left by now.”

Thank the Princess. I really don’t need an audience today.

Happy about the promise of a relaxed meal, Roland opened the exit, only to be greeted by countless stares from kids of all ages.

Done eating in the dining hall, most of the children made their way outside. Either to stroll through the city or play in the courtyard if they were too young to go out on their own yet. And despite them all having a high proficiency at entertaining themselves with things like throwing stones or using sticks to draw in the dirt, today something slightly more interesting showed up right when they needed it.

“Fuck,” Roland muttered under his breath, giving a pleading look towards his large friend.

Sighing resignedly, Arthur did what was necessary to ensure his battered leader could secure some grub without being smothered by nosy brats.

Straightening himself, he put on as angry of a look as he could muster. Which looked pretty damn angry. Teeth gritted with furrowed brows and fiery eyes, he exuded the aura of someone looking to straight up tear apart any fool that came close to him.

Disregarding how likely it was for Arthur to actually attack any of them, his scary visage served its purpose. Crowds parting in front of them like particularly badly choreographed performers, Roland and his two friends slowly made their way towards the main building. The dining hall to be more accurate.

Thomas too contributed to the best of his abilities. Puffed checks and one hand clamped around his nose he tried to be at his most intimidating. Which he believed to be when he was holding his breath.

And truthfully the frantic look in his eyes, reminiscent of a desperate sailor sinking towards his watery grave, probably scared off its fair share of people.

Being escorted by these two terrifying guardians was quite a surreal experience. Luckily with their destination close at hand, a minute of awkwardness and a quick prayer were all Roland had to endure before they entered the next battlefield.

Unlike normal battlefields, full of screams and the sound of fighting, this one housed hushed conversations, as well as the sound of cutlery on old plates.

Eight incredible long tables occupied the orphanage’s dining hall, each large enough to seat fifty, and a gigantic counter full of various foods sat right next to the kitchen entrance.

Seeing that lunchtime was about to finish, only a handful of children remained, though most of the staff still occupied the half table reserved for them.

Seeing such well-known late arrivals enter most kids stared wide eyed at the talk of the orphanage. Though those that remained here were the quieter ones, so Arthur could finally put away his scary expression.

Thomas on the other hand still kept going, earning him some concerned looks from the staff. However, the scattered whispers about friendship showed his current performance was not the only thing that had them rattled.

On another day Roland might have been inclined to greet them and possibly explain how some unfortunate rumors came about, today he preferred to keep things simple. Going the whole day without talking to anyone except Arthur and Thomas would be considered a big success for him.

Grabbing a plate and cutlery from a cart next to the food counter, the trio started their culinary journey. The first destination was a hill of boiled potatoes, which had previously been a mountain. Oh, how quickly nature could change under the tyrannical hands of humanity.

Their next stop brought them to a ravaged field of vegetables, scoured clean of anything remotely intact, leaving only misshapen green clumps of questionable origin. Not even the cooks would be able to confidently say what kind of vegetables these were.

Their next destination provided, like any good penultimate should, a real highlight. Valiant hunters had brought down powerful horned beasts, whose meat had then been masterfully prepared in the kitchen. These barely palm sized pieces of goat meat radiated a splendor seldom found anywhere else in the orphanage.

For the previous items everyone could take however much they wanted. Provided they finished everything on their plate, as otherwise the Princess’ anger would befall them. Manifesting in the physical realm as the caretaker’s belt striking their bare butt with divine wrath.

The scarce meat however was restricted to one per person. In the past there had been times when the last few unlucky ones did not get any meat for lunch whatsoever. Miraculously these incidents stopped occurring in recent years.

Even the most interesting of journeys must come to an end, much less whatever this was. Concluding in a reserved way, their last destination ended up being a simple enchanted moon jug, given to the orphanage by the Lunar Church. It was a prime example of how anything would lose its splendor if you saw hundreds of grabby children touch it daily.

The only thing said jug could do was endlessly producing regular drinking water, no matter how much one poured out. Nothing but a cheap parlor trick, utterly incomparable to the one in Soren’s cathedral, whose water could make you resistant to illness. Not to mention the famous Twin Moon Jug enshrined in the capital, which supposedly extended your lifespan if you drank directly from it.

The trio muttered a quick thanks towards the Princess as they filled their glasses, before seating themselves at the closest table. Roland in the middle flanked by Arthur on his right and Thomas on the left. As was tradition.

Their plates were filled to the brim, though mostly with potatoes. Despite eating delicacies like Grandma Dorothy’s chicken on a semi regular basis, their standards for acceptable food remained at the same level as those of every other child here. Which appeared to be ‘everything is fine as long as I’m not hungry or sick afterwards.

Some would call it a tragedy the children here had gotten accustomed to eating that way. On the other hand, being able to easily stomach bland slop was truthfully quite the handy skill to have.

There even existed a lovely saying some former members had taught the younger children, which had survived throughout the generations to become a true classic. ‘Never tasted love, but at least we didn’t starve.’ Needless to say, the staff was not fond of it.

Taking his first bite made Roland regret heaving that much food on his plate. Although the outer wounds were mostly fine, his tongue still hurt quite a bit when it came in contact with the hot food.

He shifted his chewing to the other side, hoping it didn’t make him look too stupid. Fortunately, the literal king of stuffed cheeks sat next to him, so most attention got diverted towards this human-squirrel hybrid.

Most of the slow or late eaters still remaining by now chose to stay even after they had finished eating. They observed the famous Crescent Moon Helpers and talked to each other in hushed voices, every one having their own speculations about what went down yesterday.

If it wouldn’t be against the rules many of those outside would have definitely come in again. The staff did not like people going in and out of the dining hall constantly. It was a place for eating and not entertainment.

As the door nonetheless opened from the outside, people wondered who else could have come so late, as there usually were no late arrivals at all.

The boy who entered felt greatly out of place. Not because he wasn’t a member of the Crescent Moon Orphanage, but simply due to the fact that the number of times he entered the dining hall every year could be counted on one hand.

His well-kept clothes and various little accessories gave him a noble feeling, that was promptly destroyed thanks to an incredibly shifty looking face.

Seeing their fourth member enter, Roland’s fork stopped midair, frown forming on his tired face. No way Stephan would ever consider eating the slop here. So much about a more relaxed day.

Putting aside his cutlery, Roland waited for Stephan to deliver his in all likelihood bad news. Because when were they not. Arthur also spotted the elusive messenger, but kept eating for now. His input would not be required until Roland had listened to whatever Stephan was here to report.

Thomas on the other hand, despite being extremely focused on his dramatically fast shrinking pile of food, still managed to give their approaching companion a quick greeting in the form of a hand-wave. Which ended up looking vaguely threatening due to a tightly gripped knife residing in the eager boy’s hand.

“Morning, guys. You feeling better, Boss?” Stephan greeted his companions, trying to test the waters while doing his best to ignore a sharp piece of steadily approaching cutlery.

Truthfully, he would have preferred to take some temporary distance from Roland after yesterday’s unfortunate events. Even if it seemed like things were fine, the question for how long that would be the case remained.

“Depends on what news you bring, Stephan,” Roland replied deadpan, making the unwilling messenger sweat.

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Stephan announced, getting right to it for a change. “Somebody broke the bridge’s railing on the other side and fell into the river.”

Roland briefly saw black while Arthur nearly chocked on his food.

“The good news is that he is fine,” Stephan quickly added so none of those two ended up having too big of a reaction. “Nobody died or got hurt.”

Fuck. This isn't good for my heart. Silently cursing in his mind, Roland felt like someone had strongly gripped his insides and swished them around without a care in the world.

How? We changed so much. Created a gigantic commotion! And still something happened. But nobody died? What the hell is going on?

Before he could ask for clarification a voice full of justice, and supported by quite a lot of chewing, cut in like a blade.

“That’s cheating!” Thomas bellowed out as he stood up, finger pointed accusingly at Stephan. Potato chunks were flying in every direction out of his stuffed mouth like burning rocks spewing from the world’s cutest volcano. All of the previous enthusiasm over his friend’s arrival seemed to have been replaced by righteous indignation.

“Huh?” Stephan wondered what the hell was going on, confused at his friend’s accusation, and equally annoyed at the bombardment flying his way.

“You can’t say the good thing is that the bad thing isn’t as bad as it could be,” Thomas lectured his friend, tone fully confident. “The truth is you have one single bad thing and nothing good at all. Total scam!”

Happy with his successful act of justice Thomas sat back down to finish devouring the food, leaving Stephan to bask in the afterglow of his judgment. One could only hope their wayward companion would mend his ways. Sadly not everyone could be saved.

“Eh, I’m not quite sure that’s fair, Tommy,” Stephan tried to justify himself, somehow unconvinced by his friend’s saintly words. “Many people use it that way, so it should be fine.” Thomas obviously did not listen to a single word from the stinky cheater, instead continuing to happily eat his meal.

Mood lightening by his friends' antics, Roland nonetheless did not make any further quips, the incident at hand was more important.

“Details, Stephan,” Roland commanded sternly. “You sure there were no casualties?”

“Of course, multiple different sources confirmed it,” Stephan answered seriously, giving Thomas’s back the stink eye in the process. “I wouldn’t be so relaxed otherwise.”

“Apparently yesterday around midnight, one old and one middle aged man entered the bridge,” Stephan relayed the information he had gathered so far. “They supposedly were highly intoxicated and continued drinking atop the bridge. After some time, the old man broke through the railing on the side facing the old mill and fell into the river.”

A drunk old man broke the railing and fell in? And he was accompanied by another person. Roland’s eyes widened at the information, thoughts quickly racing towards a certain possibility.

“And the old man was completely fine?” Roland asked to confirm his suspicions. “How did he survive?”

“He apparently walked out of the river, laughed loudly, and shock off the water like some oversized dog,” Stephan replied, smiling wryly.

Arthur, who had been listening in silence, raised a brow at the information. A quick look at his boss showed him this surprising turn of events wasn’t entirely unexpected for the latter. Not that met expectations were something good in this case.

“He was a knight,” Roland remarked, more of a statement than a question.

“Very likely,” Stephan agreed. “After all, drunk old men don’t simply walk out after falling into the Tarma, especially not at midnight.”

Explains how the solid railing broke. A Knight could destroy the whole bridge in one move, much less some flimsy railing. And of course there is no way someone like that could drown, even if he was drunk as a skunk. That means the person which originally died must have been his companion.

Roland’s face darkened noticeably, making Stephan squirm uncomfortably.

The only reason he didn’t die this time was pure luck. Nothing we did had any purpose. He still ended up at the same place, a couple steps away from doom. Just not leaning against the railing.

And while Roland knew the only reason the unfortunate almost victim could get lucky was that they altered the scene of the accident, it nonetheless left a sour feeling.

A Knight.

Images of two golden figures moving gracefully in perfect harmony flitted across Roland’s eyes as he took a breath to calm himself down. It seemed like an obvious conclusion. Nothing they were capable of could possibly stop a Knight. If he felt like getting drunk on a bridge then he would do that.

“What happened afterwards?” Roland asked, having calmed down again quickly. Ultimately there was little point in lamenting over things you couldn’t change.

“The old man and his companion left together with a Rat,” Stephan reported, relieved that his boss stayed normal. “Apparently the leader of a minor scouting team from the Bureau of Documentation.”

Seeing the questioning look on his leader’s face, Stephan added further information, looking somewhat awkward, as the next part was a bit too much for him to report straight faced, “Apparently the big showing of nobles, coupled with your unconventional repairs, has started quite a few rumors. Some of them even juicier than your killing of the Toktuam’s heir, Boss.”

“How do these people come up with all this garbage,” Roland clicked his tongue in annoyance, not happy about somehow getting a reputation for casual manslaughter.

“Well, the two of you left towards a remote area and only you were seen returning,” Arthur got in on the conversation for the first time, as it seemed nothing more serious was about to come up. “Only the most obvious conclusion remains.”

“Yeah Boss, really looks like you offed that brat somewhere out of sight for getting in your way,” Stephan joked, much happier taking part in a lighthearted conversation about coldblooded murder than being the bringer of bad news. “Hopefully you buried him below an animal’s corpse. Makes it harder to find.”

Grinning cheekily at his equally hilarious as informative tidbit, Stephan was taken aback by the looks of utter disappointment his companions gave him. The chocking guttural laugh reminiscent of a dying pig coming from Thomas unnerved him even further.

“That’s what I said!” The gleeful exclamation from their currently choking friend made Stephan’s face distort in despair. Efficient ways to kill himself most definitely being considered.

“What’s the situation at the bridge now?” Roland asked the last thing he needed to know, ignoring Stephan’s possible suicidal tendencies to resume eating faster.

More than happy for an out of this embarrassing situation, Stephan answered quickly, “A ghost town. Or you know, ghost bridge if that’s a thing.”

“Due to yesterday’s commotion, people had already started a bunch of absurd rumors,” Stephan continued. “And now after the bridge has claimed its first victim, things have escalated. The general consensus is that the bridge is seriously cursed, so everyone is staying away. There are even talks of petitioning the bishop to cleanse it. Heck, some people want to tear it down completely.”

A headache of apocalyptic proportions threatened to visit Roland, and it had nothing to do with the beating he received yesterday.

How is it possible for the collective intelligence of humanity to decline so drastically whenever it gets the chance to make my life more of a chore.

“We’ll finish eating and check the bridge afterwards,” Roland announced, dissatisfied but without any other choice. “Good job on getting the information to us, Stephan. Make sure you keep an eye out for anything about the old man that fell. Be careful however. And obviously don’t do anything to antagonize him.”

I’ll consider yesterday’s case an accident for now, but any Knight should have easily been able to save a random civilian from drowning. There is something sketchy about the situation.

“Of course, Boss,” Stephan saluted respectfully, mostly for their audience. “I’ll get right to it. Later guys.”

Happily heading towards the exit, Stephan looked forward to embarking on a day of enjoyment, trying his best to cancel out the stress from yesterday. Not even five steps later a ghostly whisper crawled up his spine.

“Cheeeeeeeater!” Thomas loudly whispered, hands forming a funnel around his mouth.

“I’m not a cheater!” Stephan shouted, angrily turning back towards the stupid glutton who seemed to be set on annoying him today. Only to find Thomas fully engrossed in his meal, and everyone else in the room looking confusedly at the weird boy that for some inexplicably reason loudly denied being a cheater during lunchtime.

Face strained beyond belief, Stephan looked like he had just stepped in shit, with all four limbs at once while crawling across the floor. Turning around rigidly, he chose to flee the premises as fast as possible, only trembling lightly each time the ghostly wails behind him increased in volume.

Roland and Arthur meanwhile looked exasperatedly at the new center of attention, which was their overeager friend who was currently shouting at the top of his lungs, face beet red.

Despite all that, Thomas’ eyes held nothing but the sweet glow of victory. Ain’t nobody getting away with cheating on his watch. Unless they were a bunch of old ladies, in which case he encouraged it instead.

“I’ll wait for you two outside,” Arthur announced, abandoning Roland in his hour of need without a second thought. Loyalty was hard to come by nowadays.

Sighing sadly, Roland looked at his still half full plate, cursing his brain for allowing an empty stomach to influence its decisions.

Not about to break a basically sacred rule when everyone present was watching them, he got back to work. Taking one bite after the other while his neighbor chortled happily, countless disturbed gazes not fazing him the slightest.

A good five physical minutes later, which equated to about thirty mental, the two of them joined Arthur outside. They did however make another quick stop before heading towards Soren’s newest, and only cursed bridge.

I’m not fit enough for exercise yet, especially seeing that the public training is tomorrow. So realistically there is only one thing I can do today. Though at this point I’m almost afraid to say it out loud.

*

Sometime later three figures arrived at the White Mill Bridge, now officially cursed. Which ended up being a somewhat fortunate state of affairs if one needed a quiet place to study.

Looking at the more than fifteen feet section of railing which was missing, Roland couldn’t help but compare it to his own destructive prowess.

The strongest kick I could muster, and it barely managed to break six feet. Meanwhile some drunk Knight probably ripped this much to shreds accidentally.

“You can set them down over here,” Roland told his two friends as he himself placed the books he was carrying down on the bridge.

“You sure about this, Boss?” Arthur voiced his concerns. “Some people would call this ‘tempting fate’.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t do that,” Thomas commented, adding his opinion, unprompted as usual. “We don’t even know her well. What if fate turns out to be a big meanie?”

Briefly stunned by Thomas’s surprisingly deep statement, Roland suddenly started laughing uncontrollably. Arthur, who had just been about to give Thomas a kick in the shin due to having about enough of the wannabe comedian’s quips for a day, was taken aback by their leader’s merry reaction.

The instigator of the laughing fit himself looked quite confused, but not being one to pass on any fun he could participate in, Thomas quickly joined in.

A brief moment of eternity was filled with a duet of laughter, grating on the ears of the sole audience member unlucky enough to be present, before Roland sent him away, accompanied by his own treasured musical partner.

Ah, I’m pretty sure I know fate quite well. Calling her a big meanie is the understatement of the century. Real bitch that one.

Smile still on his face, Roland sat at the edge of the bridge, feet dangling down towards the water, unobstructed by any pesky railing. He took out his widely traveled math problems and did what he had wanted to do since the moment they finished defacing the bridge yesterday. Study in peace.