Much was taken from us. Much was given in return.

ARC 5 - PARACLETE

CHAPTER 11 - DIE FOR YOU

Raegn stood with his back to the two royals, choosing instead to survey the crowd. Whatever trinkets Victoria wanted from this stall were of no significance. Light, they’d stopped at over a dozen already. The hundreds of other faces that offered only momentary glances in their direction were of more concern. Venturing out into the city proper in the middle of the day for a simple shopping trip seemed ill-advised. Entering the open-air market, its stalls haphazardly set up until the large square was a labyrinth of rickety wood, wares, and colored sunshades, was even more so. And to do both with only a pair of guards?

His teeth ground. For once, the Tsurat family’s reliance on servants had been the better option. And it had been ignored. Taking Tanis’s word for their safety simply because she’d never felt threatened amongst her own people was insanity. Had the Crown Princess not seen the welcome Victoria had received?

No, she knew, he was convinced of that much. The Shaktikan royal wasn’t as daft as they’d originally thought. There was a method to her madness. Raegn was sure of it. Nora, too. And whatever it was, Victoria was buried by it. Every day the Elysian princess bombarded her Shaktikan counterpart with questions. Opinions on Elysian trade sanctions, Shaktikan involvement in the Void War, if they’d heard rumors of the Void’s resurgence, deep conversations on culture and history - there wasn’t a topic left off the table. One these days Victoria would touch a subject that even Tanis’s tireless lips would refuse to answer.

“What’s out there?”

Raegn glanced to the side as the pair brushed by him, a blur of silks as their loose dresses followed their movement back into the market’s narrow pathways. Nora placed a hand on his shoulder as she slid by to follow. He sighed and swept the area behind them, searching for eyes that lingered for more than a curious glance. Finding none, he moved to do the same.

“Where? In the Whispering Sands? Nothing but, well, sand,” Tanis said. “It goes on so long most go mad and then die of heat or thirst. Those who have traveled them and returned claim to have heard voices that speak all sorts of horrors.” She lifted a hand towards the sky, letting her new bracelets of silver slide down her arm and gleam in the sunlight. “There are some who believe it didn’t used to all be sand. That in the Void War, Heaven’s army fought in one of the Realm’s largest battles there, and that the whispers driving people mad are the fallen.

Victoria was silent for a moment. “Some come back though?” she asked, timidly.

“Oh, yes,” Tanis assured her, “but they are few. There’s a village out there, somewhere, but nearly all that travel west stay south, at the Moonstream Oasis.”

“Oasis?” Victoria perked up. Raegn did, too. If there was a place that offered a reprieve from the oven that was the city of Shaktika, he’d certainly rather be there. Perhaps Victoria could be convinced to take a trip that encompassed their final half a season.

“It’s a serene place,” Tanis told her with a beaming smile. “Cool and refreshing water amongst the heat. Trees with long fronds that sway in the breeze and offer shade.”

“That sounds lovely,” Victoria agreed.

“Sure does,” Nora muttered, loud enough only for Raegn to hear. He gave a gentle elbow into her arm in silent agreement. They'd grown accustomed to wordless conversation. The two royals talked enough for the four of them. A well-placed remark here and there still helped to keep them both sane during these long, escorted walks, though.

“It's quite lovely, though you have to travel through Kat Gaya canyon to get there,” Tanis continued.

“And that’s bad, I take it?”

Tanis shrugged. “It simply is. The trip takes several days and there are only a few sanctioned campsites. Father controls who can make the journey, of course. You need either his blessing or a ticket to enter and neither come cheap.”

Victoria pouted, pulling at the blue-green scarf slung about her neck. “Why can’t you camp elsewhere?”

“Well, you could, but all sorts of creatures live down there.” Tanis squeezed her hands around Victoria’s waist, earning a small yelp. “Snakes as thick as you or I!” she exclaimed. “Lizards the size of cows! Everything in the canyon is venomous and very hungry. You’d have to travel without food and even then you might still attract their attention. Plus, it gets horribly cold at night and they’re known to seek the warmth of a fire. You’d have to starve and freeze yourself the entire journey if you couldn't get entry into the protected camps.”

“Oh,” Victoria mumbled.

Raegn rolled his eyes. That all figured. Since they’d arrived there’d been nothing that the Emperor hadn’t maintained explicit control of. In some regards it made sense. A ruler was the pinnacle of their kingdom; all was beneath them and everything their responsibility. Still, Shaktika had nobles in something resembling a court, yet they were only put in place to bring some other function into Khada Tsurat’s leathery grasp. Letting nothing out of his sight, keeping it all close-hold, those were the actions of someone with something to hide.

The Selected, Raegn reminded himself. The Emperor did have something he kept from prying eyes. And so far he’d been doing it very well - Elysia’s spies hadn’t been able to glean enough to report anything worthwhile to King Melrose. Not before they'd departed, at least. He and Nora had penned a letter detailing their encounter with both the Selected and the rebellion several nights prior, but decided to stash it in their room and deliver it by hand at their assignment’s end. There were no riders or aviaries independent of the Tsurat family. Their written word would damn them if it were turned in.

Raegn came free of his speculation and realized they’d made it to the edge of the market. They shadowed the wall at the square’s edge to their right, the two girls still eyeing every stall they passed. The crowd of sun-stained people thickened in the more open pathway. And, he noted, he’d been blankly staring at a man seated against the wall some distance ahead. A beggar, rattling a tin cup with only a coin or two. Layers of sloppily stitched rags made up the poor man’s clothes and tightly wrapped strips of cloth were used as shoes. There wasn’t anything immediately remarkable about him. Why had his eyes settled there?

The beggar kept his head down, a hood pulled over his face as they approached, and—Raegn’s heart spiked. There was a shine beneath the beggar's shirt as he lifted his arm higher to rattle the cup as they went by. Raegn tried to sneak an extra glimpse after they’d passed. The beggar wasn’t filthy. His clothes were, but the black hair beneath his hood was clean and free of tangles. More alarming was the awkward shift of something beneath his shirt as he stood. The movement of an arm restricted by a cumbersome garment. One made of thousands of tiny circlets. Chainmail. Rusted and hardly effective, but bearing intent.

The beggar abandoned his seat and took a wandering route through the crowd. One that, after an initial false turn, closely resembled that of Raegn’s own steps.

“We’re being—”

He and Nora each cut off, their words spoken at the same time. Nora’s off-hand came to the pommel of her sword, holding it steady as she took hurried steps to place herself in front of the royals while Raegn came up tightly behind.

“What’s wrong?” Victoria asked, her head whipping between the two of them.

“Nothing, yet,” Raegn whispered. He placed a hand in the center of her back to force an increase in her pace.

“Where are we going?” Victoria tried again.

“Back to the palace,” Nora answered. “Quickly.”

“Well if that’s what you want, then come on, I know a faster way out of the market.” Tanis grabbed Victoria by the wrist and hurried off.

Raegn clenched his jaw and took a hard pivot to chase after them. Annoying as the sudden change in direction was, he could at least be thankful for the fact that the Crown Princess had some sense of urgency about her. That gratefulness, unfortunately, was buried beneath a cold wave of dread once he noticed the crowd move behind them. Not every market-goer shifted in pursuit, but there were enough of them that the change couldn't be hidden.

“Through here,” Tanis called, heading towards a small opening in the market square wall. “We can cut through the artisan district on the other side.”

They ducked inside the covered alley, Nora taking to a light jog once they’d broken the sight of the crowd. The quicker stride was short-lived, however, and came to a disheartened stop in the middle of the passage.

A dozen or so men poured through the opening at the far end, blocking their path from wall to wall. Raegn whirled and watched the same scene unfold at the doorway they’d just come through. From beneath tattered cloaks, short blades were drawn, some actual daggers, the rest more like large kitchen knives. Each face was hidden by faceless masks of dull gold. The only features were narrow slits to give sight and a small protrusion for the nose beneath. Some, Raegn noticed, had taken the liberty of drawing tears of blood beneath the eyes.

“Raegn,” Nora called from over her shoulder. “Their blades.”

A more studious glance revealed an odd sheen on several of the weapons wielded throughout the group.

Poison.

They were more than a mob of disgruntled citizens, then. This was planned. How long had they slunk about, following unseen? Laid in wait?

Raegn slid his arm out of his shield, holding it by its edge and offering it back without taking his eyes off the would-be assassins. “Take this and use it to defend yourself and Princess Victoria,” he said. Victoria was the only one he was required to protect, but given her timid nature, Tanis seemed more likely to hold up when put under duress.

He felt a slight tug on the shield and released it, hazarding a quick glance backward. The Shaktikan royal slid her arm through the straps and held it in front of her stiffly. Victoria was huddled next to Tanis, clutching her robe-like dresses at the waist with one hand. Both leaned to look around the large shield, their heads bobbing about in search of a view like baby birds at the edge of their nest.

Raegn turned his attention to the group at the end of the alley. Mere days ago Victoria asked if he'd die for her. He'd softened the answer. The truth would have been too harsh. Why then, he wondered, did he find it so easy to stand tall in the face of a forlorn fight? He wasn't willing to give his life to preserve the chance of a political marriage. Not when there were larger threats looming. It wasn’t the knowledge that one beam of Light could cut them all down, either. Tanis was behind him. Not until Victoria’s life was truly about to end would he reveal that secret. He would honor that part of the arrangement, at least. So why did courage rise in him with the same surety as sun or the tide? Why there, in a Light-forsaken alley in the center of a wicked city, did he choose to hold his ground?

Nora’s blade gave a dry, thirsting rasp as it came free of its scabbard and Raegn grinned. That was why. Victoria’s life was merely part of a mission; one not even that remarkable. Certainly not one that would endure through the ages. Her death would be tragic and have far-reaching consequences, of course, but that wasn’t what drove him. The fear of failing the mission wasn’t nearly as terrifying as that of failing his partner. Of failing his friend. He’d never been alone until Bastion fell. The caravan may have found him and brought him back into the fold, the Order had offered sanctuary, but neither had truly saved him. Nora sought greatness as he did - the paths they walked similar. The pace must be kept.

With the tip of his spear, he drew an arcing line in the dirt to get a feel for the distance he had between each wall. Several of the group at the alley’s end looked down at the half-circle, then brought their expressionless faces back up to him. He tilted his own to the side as if to question their courage. The air was thick, filled with the sweat of too many bodies crammed into the hidden battlefield. He watched them shift back and forth, uneasy fingers grasping the handles of their blades. The wait for someone to make the first move was long and he cared not for it. Victory would come to one side or the other. There was no need for patience.

“Come,” Raegn whispered, falling into a slight crouch. “Let us see who is worthy of glory.”

There were no screams, no shouts of battle. The alley exploded into movement all the same. One assailant rushed forward, the others following en masse several strides behind. Raegn speared the first through the stomach, ripping his weapon free to slash across the torsos of two more to his right. With a hard lunge to his left, he shouldered another that tried to slip by. The man hit the wall with a dull crack that could only be the sound of a head meeting stone.

They weren’t trying to fight him, he realized. They wanted so desperately to reach Victoria that they ignored him, hoping sheer volume would allow some to pass.

More of the enemy pressed forward. Raegn swung and thrust his spear in a desperate frenzy, repeatedly smattering the walls with red as it cut through fabric and flesh. On one wide swing, he met resistance as the tip caught the wall. It showered the ground in small sparks as he pressed harder through the strike. The spear slipped free of the stone and lashed out with added speed from the tension built in the shaft. It cleaved into the side of an assailant, carrying him into two others and sending them to the ground. Raegn reset and choked up on his weapon. He couldn’t afford to miss an attack, even if it meant allowing his opponents another step closer before he could engage them.

Those that had been knocked over continually rose, slowed by having to step over their fallen. Even so, they were many and he was not. Raegn managed to cut down most, but one reached him before he could recover. The attacker crashed into his side, forcing a stabilizing step, then pushed off to make a final lunge at the royals. Raegn spun, letting the spear slide through a loose grip as he thrust its full length. A hand grasped his shield, ready to rip it from Tanis’s arm. The white metal was painted with blood as the assassin’s neck gave way to his spear.

The immediate threat handled, Raegn drew his sword and pivoted back into the fray. His arcing cut was meant to separate a head from its body, but went high and embedded halfway into an assassin’s skull. It took an extra moment to wrest the blade free from the errant swing, but he managed it just as the final few attackers stumbled their way over the dead. Despite its shorter range, the sword served well in cutting down the final three. Raegn faced them methodically, forcing himself to concentrate on his movements and handling each foe as though they were a step of a practiced sequence. The last fell to his knees, then fully into the dirt as Raegn pulled his sword out of the man's chest with a foot on his shoulder.

He turned and looked past the royals, searching for Nora. She stood tall amidst a sea of the slain, her shoulders hardly heaving. He, on the other hand, found himself practically gasping for air. The weight of the ornate armor didn’t usually feel much worse than what he typically wore, but perhaps the exertion was made more apparent by having to fight without the Light. Nora seemed to have none of that trouble. Had she risked using it? It could have been the heat, too, he reasoned. She’d adjusted to the climate better than he had, after all.

He cursed his own exhaustion, but took a moment to bask in their good fortune. It had been horrible odds for a fight. Victory would have come at a much higher cost had their attackers not been so stupid as to try and run past him. They'd been well-supplied, considering the poison, but not exactly well trained. If they would’ve all committed to tackling either him or Nora there wouldn’t have been much either of them could do about it. Then the path to the royals would be clear. The rebels they'd seen several nights prior hadn't made such errors. Then again, that was a single instance. Perhaps this encounter was more characteristic of their capabilities.

Raegn watched as Nora knelt down and began to search through the dead. He should do the same, he figured, but the idea of crouching was not a pleasant one at the moment. It could wait a few moments until he caught his breath. Instead, he turned his attention to the Shaktikan princess who was struggling to remove her arm from his shield.

“Sorry about the...mess,” Raegn panted. He frowned at the blood dripping down the wings of the owl. Cleaning out those narrow creases was difficult. “Hopefully the shield caught it all.”

“O-of course,” Tanis replied and gave a hard tug to separate herself from it.

The Crown Princess hefted the shield out with both hands, but stiffened, eyes growing wide at something below his outstretched arm. Raegn looked down, fearing one of the assassins near his feet still alive, and found something else entirely.

An ornate hilt stuck out from the armor on his side, its blade nestled just below his breastplate and hidden from view.

“Oh,” he gasped. His sword clattered to the ground and he gingerly placed his hands around the hilt of the dagger. The tightening of his grip wiggled it ever so slightly, yet he felt no pain, only the dull sense of something shifting inside him.

“Nora…?” he called weakly.

“Hm?” she grunted as she rolled over one of the fallen to check his back pockets.

Raegn opened his mouth to call for her again, but the tremble in his throat stole the words. He stepped backward, a wavering arm held out in search of support. Leaden legs failed to hold his weight. He opened his soul, searching for strength, but found nothing. The Light would not come. His knees buckled and he slid down the rough stone, his armor grinding horribly against the wall until he was slumped in the dirt. Either the movement or the sound caught Nora’s attention. She froze at the sight of him for a moment, then sped to his side. In a desperate frenzy, she pushed his hands away from the dagger and pried at the plates of his armor to reveal the blood spreading beneath.

“I can’t feel it,” Raegn wheezed.

“Can you purge it?” she whispered fiercely, trying to hide her words from Tanis. “The poison?”

“No...I mean…I can’t…I…” He tried to take a full breath. One wouldn’t come. “I can’t feel the Light,” he growled, forcing the words out by pure frustration. He couldn’t see much of Nora’s face beneath her helmet, but her eyes gave away enough. The fierce pools of blue were rank with dread. “It’s fine,” he rasped. “Get them…to the palace. I’ll…” He trailed off, unable to come up with a plan.

“Stay here and die?” Nora finished, flatly. She turned in her crouching position to look at the two royals. Tanis let the ornate shield clatter to the ground and Victoria stood with her hands clasped over her mouth, eyes glistening with tears. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Nora said. She turned back to him and placed her hand on the side of his helmet, forcing him to look up at her. “Are you ready?”

Raegn let his head fall forward in a slight nod. He could feel his breathing slowing as more of his body went limp. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t speed it. The exhaustion was too great.

Curious, he thought, that she felt the need to apologize. What did she have to be sorry for?

Nora gripped the hilt and placed her other hand around the point of entry to minimize the pull. With a quick tug, she slid the dagger free. Raegn didn’t move. In fact, he hardly felt the blade leave. His own blood didn’t even feel warm as it soaked his undershirt and plastered the fabric to his skin.

It works surprisingly quick, his mind informed him as though the knowledge was a pleasant relief. No wonder assassins favored it. And no wonder it was expensive. How had all those beggars afforded it?

Nora placed her hands together with both palms over the top of the oozing wound.

Ah, he mused, dreamily. That’s what she was apologizing for.

The alley erupted with Light as Nora attempted to purge the poison and provide enough healing to at least stop the bleeding. That did hurt. Horribly. Energy coursed into Raegn’s body, clearing the fog in his mind like a single, massive gust of wind. He opened his mouth to scream, then slammed his jaw shut and lurched forward in a violent effort to remain silent.

Nora kept her eyes on his, waiting for a response to her effort. He took a few panting breaths, then forced his fists to open and close times. It still felt like he’d gone through one of Aldway brothers' training regimens several times over, but his lungs were working and he could at least move again despite his muscles feeling as though they were made of stone.

“You have affinity,” Tanis whispered, staring down at them.

Raegn gave a tired nod to his partner, both of them choosing to ignore the weight of what Nora had just done.

“Come on,” she said, throwing one of Raegn’s arms over her shoulder and hoisting him up. “That will have drawn attention. We need to move.”

She’d barely gotten him onto both feet, neither of his legs bearing his full weight, before clamoring steps made their way towards the alley.

“Crown Princess!” a guardsman called and hurried down the narrow passage with several other guards in tow. “We heard the commotion and saw the Light. Where is the user?”

Every Elysian eye trained on Tanis. Nora’s free arm went to the hilt of her sword, the other still wrapped around Raegn’s back to keep him upright. Having dropped his own blade somewhere amongst the pile of the dead, Raegn grimaced and slowly slid a hand towards the knife on his belt. The guards didn’t suspect them. Not yet. One word from the Crown Princess, however, and the chaos would start anew. King’s orders be-damned, they were not going to be taken. If the entire mission ended here, then so be it. He could get to one of them…maybe. He grit his teeth and called the Light. It came, after some delay, and allowed his legs to bear more of his weight. One push, even a half-assed leap, would take him and one of the guards to the ground. Nora would have to handle the rest.

“It was one of those filthy rebels,” Tanis told the Guard Commander. “He used it to blind Princess Victoria’s Crownguard and wound the one," she said with a nod towards Raegn. "He escaped after they’d killed all the others.”

The Guard Commander pointed and ordered his men in the direction that Tanis gestured. They took off, rhythmic footsteps pounding away in chase.

“Your Highness, if it pleases you, I think it would be best we escort you back to the palace immediately,” the Commander said with a deep bow.

“I agree.” Tanis waved her hand forward and the Commander pivoted on a heel.

What remained of his force circled up around them as they made their way from the alley. Their pace was slow, but it wasn’t Raegn’s tender steps supported by Nora that were the cause. The formation of guards, their shields interlocked, had set their stride small. They’re used to letting the royal family laze about, Raegn realized. They’d no sense of urgency, despite the chaos of what had just occurred.

Or they just don’t care.

“This city isn’t safe,” Raegn rasped. “We need to leave.”

“You need to heal first,” Nora whispered back.

She was right, of course, but Raegn honed in on the fact that she hadn’t disagreed. Tirin was a threat to Victoria’s sanity and innocence, Tanis held their freedom in her palm - doubly so now that she knew of Nora’s affinity - and the rebellion had seemingly realized the value of Victoria's presence in their city. Killing her could start a war with Elysia - a prime environment for a small force to capitalize on a strained Shaktikan army. Or, if they managed to capture her, the Emperor might be forced into certain concessions to bring Victoria back under his custody and avoid said bloodshed between kingdoms.

Heaven’s help us, Raegn prayed. A single marriage was supposed to fix all this? Somehow set the Realm back on the path to unification? He groaned at an awkward step that jolted his hip and aggravated his fresh wound.

It was getting harder to believe by the day that the Realm was ever able to stand as one.