ARC 3 - HALLOWED

CHAPTER 11 - APPEARANCES

The morning bell had rung long enough ago that they might have been halfway to the noon bell, but Raegn had simply rolled over and gone back to sleep. If Erkan was to be mad at him for showing up late then the ornery cook could take it up with Merced. When he finally did wake, Raegn found himself face-to-face with Tera, her steady breathing still carrying her through a deep slumber. He grinned and brushed a strand of raven hair behind her ear just as she’d done days before at the tavern.

They hadn’t exactly done a whole lot of talking before falling asleep, but she’d apologized and this time stayed through the night. He didn’t even care if it was unintentional—a result of exhaustion rather than conscious choice. Raegn was sure there was probably going to be some deeper discussion about it at some point, but for now he was content with having righted whatever wrongs had come from their first meeting. He carefully slid from the bed so as not to wake her. It was much colder out from under the blanket that she’d helped to keep warm, but he forced himself to move slowly and make minimal sound as he dressed.

Breakfast had already been served and Erkan and Lona were squarely in their preparations for the midday meal by the time he arrived. There was the distinct smell of rosemary coming from several of the ovens and a row of prepared hens on a table nearby. Raegn’s stomach growled as the tempting scent wafted toward him, but he stifled it with a handful of berries now and then between cuts of his knife.

Raegn glanced at Erkan periodically to see if the cook had noticed his arrival. Lona had given him a warm smile when he entered, but Erkan hadn’t ever looked directly at him. It was difficult to see the cook’s head over the deer he was carving apart, but there was no way the cook hadn’t seen him at some point. Perhaps there would be no scolding for his tardiness. Odd, but not unwelcome.

With the only potential stressor of the morning removed, Raegn lost himself in the steady chops of his knife and his mind began to wander. Tera was the only material that filled his thoughts. Her skin had been so soft and the crease where her hip met the top of her thigh so tempting. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold air around them, but it was like they were both starved for warmth with how closely they’d held each other. Just the memory of it was enough to swell his mood to new heights.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Erkan grumbled and rounded on him. “As if we don’t see that ridiculous grin. Out with it!”

Raegn’s eyes went wide and his hand froze mid-slice of the apple. Was he expected to divulge his personal affairs? Surely the cook couldn’t be serious. “Out with what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“Your mission, you twit. You’re not dead, so are we to assume it was a success?”

Raegn let out an audible sigh of relief. Of course. Tera hadn’t been the only triumph the night prior, though she was arguably the more memorable of the two.

“I got lucky,” he answered.

“I doubt that.”

“I don’t,” Raegn said with a scowl. He had gotten lucky, no two ways about it. At best he would’ve been severely wounded if things hadn’t deteriorated into that disgraceful excuse for a fight.

There was a clack as Erkan forcefully set down his cleaver on the table. “Lad, think of every soldier that ever survived a battle. Each could’ve been killed by any of the thousands of arrows that pierced others. Seven Heavens, I could’ve died in the river as a boy if a fisherman hadn’t been nearby.”

“Thank you for describing luck to me, Erkan,” Raegn scoffed.

“No.” Erkan pointed a meaty finger at him. “I’m trying to tell you that there’s no such thing as luck. Those things you can’t control are what is known as life. And it happens to all of us. The reason the soldier didn’t die is because he had his shield up despite his fatigue. I didn’t drown because I kicked hard and long enough for someone to notice me. The reason you’re here and not laying in the dirt is because you have some amount of skill.”

“He had a dagger and I didn’t. If he hadn’t slipped—”

“Then you’ve been given the opportunity to learn. Take a dagger next time,” Erkan said plainly.

“We were instructed to be unarmed,” Raegn protested. “We weren’t there to kill anyone. Giving us a weapon would have given us the wrong idea.”

“You can use the Light, can’t you? Doesn’t that mean you’re never truly unarmed?”

“Heaven’s Law says—”

“Who was around to see, lad?” Erkan sounded exasperated. And a touch angry.

But why? Raegn thought. What does he care?

“If he hadn’t fallen would you have stood there and died to that filth or torn him apart? Is your own life worth that little to you? Are you that eager to die?!”

“No, but if I did then—” Raegn couldn’t get a full excuse in. Erkan wouldn’t allow it.

“Then what? The Church would hold you accountable? Let me ask you, brave Templar—were they open about that mission? Would they want others to know? Or would your actions have been swept away to protect the larger picture?”

Raegn grumbled under his breath. Erkan was always stern with his words but these seemed to be filled with a certain conviction that was absent in their previous conversations. And how did Erkan know so much about the mission? Was he just inferring it all?

“If you’re that worried about it find a more discreet way to use it,” Erkan said off-handedly as he returned to carving away at the deer.

“I was already holding the Light within, but so was he,” Raegn retorted. “It wasn’t much of an advantage.”

“So that’s it then? It’s all lances and barriers and augmentation is it?” Erkan scoffed. “The bastard had a knife. Make your own.”

Raegn frowned. “I don’t even know if that’s possible, to shape it like that. Besides, it wouldn’t be solid like a barrier. The other blade would go through mine.”

“Plan on blocking a lot of attacks with a small knife, eh? You must be very skilled then.”

The way Erkan no longer looked at him while he spoke gave a patronizing air to the words. Raegn rolled his eyes and went back to focusing on his work slicing apples. Lona slid him another bunch across the table but when he reached for them she placed her hand atop his. She stared into his eyes and gave a slight nod of her head in Erkan’s direction. Then she pointed softly at the cook and back at him. And then she smiled.

Raegn studied her, wishing she would just say the words that were so hard to discern from her actions. Was he supposed to be happy that Erkan was talking to him? Or was it that Erkan was happy to have him back?

Raegn watched Erkan grumble softly as the large knife slid through tendon and muscle, expertly separating limbs and hocks of meat from the inedible bits. The stout cook had a certain gristle about him that made being in his presence uncomfortable at first, but even Raegn had to admit that it softened with time. Erkan might even be considered fatherly in some ways. He’d certainly taken in Lona despite the girls' mute condition and she seemed happy to spend each day working alongside the man.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Kai said.

Raegn furrowed his brow, but kept placing the small loaves of bread along the table in the Great Hall. Kai followed him down, pretending to pick over the offerings to maintain the conversation without arousing suspicion. “How so?” Raegn asked.

“I figured when Tera started to shun you that was that. She’s cold to damn near everyone, but somehow you’ve flipped that on its head.”

“She apologized, Kai. We’re hardly close. Nothing like you and Nalani.”

“Oh, she apologized all right,” Kai chuckled softly to himself. “And what a way to do it.”

“Enough,” Raegn hissed. “You’ve made your point and now I regret ever bringing up my personal affairs with you. We’re on good terms, I guess. What of it?”

“I’m just saying you’re lucky.” Kai picked up a loaf and inspected it, then frowned and placed it back down. “Nalani went off to take the Crusader trial without me. At least you have someone around.”

“She’ll be done in another season or so,” Raegn pointed out. “Or is being patient that hard for you? If I catch you sneaking off to a brothel you’ll have to buy my secrecy, you know.”

“You…” Kai shook his head in dismay. “It’s not about having her be physically present. It’s about the companionship. The conversation. The…intangibles, as it were.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve noticed you staring at Nalani’s intangibles on multiple occasions,” Raegn said with a grin.

Kai set his jaw in a firm pout, but couldn’t fight the chuckle that bubbled out. “Fine. It’s about a lot of things. All I’m saying is that I’m a tad jealous.” Kai tossed a small loaf of bread onto his plate and ventured off to find a seat.

Raegn smiled. It certainly had been a stroke of good fortune that he’d somehow gotten under Tera’s otherwise stormy mood. He wasn’t sure how he’d done it exactly, but being in her favor had brightened his spirits. Thus far, joining the Order had been a good decision. He was far from any dissident farlings that might claim glory in seeing him slain and the skills the Order required of its Templar were mundane compared to what Bastion demanded of its Sentinels.

A twinge of remorse bit him at the thought of his home. He’d all but abandoned them at this point. He told himself it was for the best, though. The survivors had made it to Bulwark, of that much he could be certain. The Order maintained regular communication with the legion it had sent to reinforce the final Shield City and he’d read many of the early reports. Uncle Dunstan would certainly take good care of Bastion’s populace. Far better care than Raegn could have provided, anyway.

Even so, guilt tormented him at times. It whispered to him that he should’ve accepted whatever fate the Far East had in store for him. But what good would that have brought? So long as he was alive he could continue to fight—fight what, though? he asked himself. The Void? Somehow he doubted that Highlord Orgeron would send him to Bulwark as part of a Templar legion, though he knew he was free to leave if he so chose. He wondered if there would ever be a time that he would. There certainly wouldn’t be a warm welcome for him in Bulwark, not after he’d been gone for so long.

Raegn idly tugged at the ring on his finger while he walked over to another table. The plates would need to be gathered and carried down to the kitchens before he could quit for the day and by the looks of the pile of dirty dishes it was going to take several trips. He sighed, but set about stacking the plates and bowls neatly into a nearby wooden crate. He didn’t notice the raven-haired girl approach until she lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

Raegn spun quickly. He wasn’t sure why he felt surprised to see her, but it was a shock of a pleasant nature.

“I didn’t think I’d be waking up alone,” Tera said in a voice low enough to catch his ear alone.

Raegn’s face paled. He’d meant to let her sleep after a long night, but the implication of what he’d done dawned on him under her stern gaze. No better than what she did to me that first night, he told himself. Light, don’t let her think it was revenge.

“You didn’t think I’d be upset?”

“Well, no. Not until just now,” Raegn confessed.

Tera approached and gave a soft, yet firm tug on his ear. Then, still holding him, she rose to her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re lucky I needed that rest.” She released him and eyed the line of tables with the days fare. “And now I need to eat. Care to join me?”

“Oh!” Raegn’s eyes darted around, unsure if the display of both discipline and affection had caught anyone’s attention. Kai’s, mainly, but fortunately the islander was invisible in the packed hall. “I’d love to, it’s just…” he gestured towards his dirty apron and the dishes behind him. “Bit of work to do still.”

Tera drew her lips into a bit of a pout. “I’ll eat slowly. Hurry up, then find me?”

She didn’t wait for his reply, instead gliding away to fill a plate. Raegn stood there, dumbfounded, and watched her. Was that the same girl that had all but thrown him out of her bedroom and then struck him when she’d learned who he was? She glanced back midway through picking out a bunch of grapes and shooed him with her hand for encouragement. Right. Work, he thought. He sped through gathering the dishes and stacked them far taller than what could be considered smart. Good fortune blessed him again, though, and he had the table cleared in three trips with not a single plate broken or chipped.