“From this day forward you are banished,” his father said.

The words hit Jack deeper than any blade could have. His heart felt as though it would falter at any moment, but he remained knelt on one knee. Why had his father said such a thing? He hadn’t done anything wrong, he was certain of it.

“I am not so merciless that I would send my son away with nothing,” Chief Bloodwall said. “Kanders has told me about your aptitude in smithing. I will write you a letter to take to Smith Carlson in Riverhill to apprentice under.”

Another slash at his heart as Jack quivered on his knee, reaching up to feel the pain in his chest. Though he was thickly wrapped with heavy furs, he had never felt colder in his life. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he grit his teeth and his neck twitched, trying to force himself to swallow his anxiety.

“Take the carriage to Riverhill. The moment you step inside the city, you will have nothing to do with the Bloodwall family. Am I understood?”

Jack finally raised his head. “But father!” Jack stopped when he saw his father’s face, the stone face, the icy glare. An overwhelming pressure fell over him for the first time. He had seen his father overwhelm others with the pressure, but he never expected he’d finally experience it. It was as though the entire world had sat upon his shoulders.

“Leave,” Chief Jax Bloodwall’s voice was deathly.

Jack quivered under the man, almost about to empty his bowels, but one of his father’s knights helped him up and the boy stumbled away. The piercing glares of the Eldermen covered him with walls of shame. The doors slammed behind him.

“It’s good that you finally came to a decision,” the Second Elderman said. It was Rohi Bloodwall, Jax’s cousin.

“That’s right,” the Third Elderman said. “There was no place in this world for a useless boy like him. If only he had a tenth of Oliver’s talent.”

“We have already lost one Bloodwall,” Jax said. “I am willing to lose a few more.”

The threat hung in the air and the two Eldermen quickly shut their mouths. Chief Jax was the most powerful man in the border town and it was not a good idea to anger him. They knew their blood relation would not save them, not after what happened all those years ago.

“His smithing talent isn’t to be underestimated,” the Fourth Elderman said. She was a woman who was wise enough not to speak ill of the Chief’s son.

“If he becomes a smith, I might think about inviting him back to the family,” Jax said. “Until then, he will no longer be affiliated with any of us.”

“With Oliver joining an order and Jack leaving to become a smith, the matter of an heir will need to be discussed.” The Fifth Elderman said stroked his thick beard. He was a thicker man, and the youngest of the Eldermen.

The Chief’s eyes fell on the Fifth Elderman, who usually remained quite neutral. He was a man who would often abstain his vote, or vote with the Chief’s interest. For a moment Jax felt his gut warn him, but he pushed away the thought.

“If you think I need to discuss the matter with any of you,” Jax said, standing, “then you are sorely mistaking your place.” The room filled with the intense pressure of his aura, forcing each of the Eldermen to struggle. The pressure dissipated and the Eldermen bowed their heads.

“I meant no disrespect,” the Fifth Elderman said.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Jax raised his hand. “You are dismissed.”

There was no use in arguing for the meeting to continue. Though there were other matters to speak of, the Eldermen realised that it would be difficult to speak with Jax when he was in this mood. They bowed and excused themselves, starting with the Fifth Elderman, and ending with the Second Elderman.

Jax sighed and sat down again. The doors were shut and he was all alone, save for his most trusted knight. “I have the devil knocking at my wall, vultures behind me, and rats at my side. It’s only a matter of time now.”

“We’ve delayed for long enough,” the knight said. He was the only one to dare to speak without permission, especially if it was to rebuke the Chief.

“No. We need a little longer, and then I can die in peace.” Jax slumped on his wooden throne, the furs brushing up against the back of his neck.

“Don’t die too peacefully after watching me fall,” Ozcar said. “At the very least, don’t die before me.”

“I won’t give you such dishonour.” Jax stared down at where his son, Jack Bloodwall, had knelt. He could see the terror in the boy’s eyes and all he could think of was the little babe, covered in the blood of his mother, staring up at him the first time they had met.

“There’s no need to think about it any more.” Ozcar placed a hand on his Chief’s shoulder. “It’s out of your hands now.”

A stray thought crossed Jax’s mind. He could send word to recall Oliver, who had made a name for himself as a paladin. The young man was rapidly approaching his own level of strength, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He was Jax Bloodwall, Chief of the Bloodwalls. He had manned the walls as a boy, and he has slain his first beast before his tenth birthday. What need of he to call back a boy?

“You’re thinking about Oliver again, aren’t you?” Ozcar said. “You had a stupid look on your face before it turned into a different stupid look.”

Jax growled at Ozcar, who answered with a playful smile. If it had been any other man, he would have stuck the man’s head on a pike outside the fort.

“Should I send Sir Mark to escort the carriage?”

“No,” Jax replied, shaking his head. “If we send Mark, the family might think I favour the boy.” He needed to send someone who didn’t obviously alert the Eldermen. “Send Anthony.”

“Anthony?” Ozcar raised his brows in alarm. “Are you certain?”

“The drunkard will be good enough. He’ll complete his task, even if he does it poorly.” Jax narrowed his eyes. “Even he will remember that I called Jack my son once.”

Ozcar sighed and bowed his head. “I will inform him immediately.” Ozcar left once he saw the look on Jax’s face. It was no longer stupid, but full of worry, and was older than his years would suggest.

Ozcar swiftly approached a cabin and knocked on the door. Every knight had their own cabin where others could not intrude. After a short moment Ozcar knocked again. “Sir Anthony! You have your obligation!”

The door shook before a young man of twenty opened it. He had short blonde hair, tussled as though a squirrel had run across his head, and lazy blue eyes. “What?”

“The Chief has given you your obligation. Get decent within the hour or I’ll bring a branding iron.”

“What’s the obligation,” Anthony asked. Depending on the answer, he’d be able to take his time or rush as appropriate.

“You are to escort the banished Jack to Riverhill.”

“…” Anthony’s mouth opened up and his face looked like a dead fish. “You what?”

“You heard me.” Ozcar smacked the young knight with the hilt of his blade, turned on his heel and left.

Anthony remained there, dumbfounded. Little Jack Bloodwall, banished? He stumbled back towards the water basin and picked up a small gem no bigger than his pinky nail and then crushed it over the water. Instantly it became icy cold and he dunked his head into the water, letting the cold shock him for a few moments. He pulled back from the water basin, completely awake and sober enough to think straight.

“Little Jack? Banished?” He stared at the window ahead of him and then dunked his head once more, sobering up a little more before he pulled back again. He crushed another gem, which had cleaned him of the poison of alcohol and other impurities. He quickly dressed himself, donned his armour, and then wrapped his sword belt around his waist.

“Little Jack. Banished.” The words seemed so foreign and he looked up to the sky, as though it was about to fall down on the land.

He grew up learning the tales of the legendary Bloodwall family, and the Butcher of Beasts, Jax Bloodwall. When he was ten years old he had watched as his parents had been torn apart by beasts from beyond the wall, the memory causing his hand twitch towards a nearby bottle. He resisted the urge as remembered the giant back he saw that day, which had cut those foul creatures with a single swipe of his sword as though they were flies.

He had sworn his Oath under the man who had saved his life, and though he had taken to the bottle over the last few years, even he knew the kind of man Jax Bloodwall was.

“What the fuck is going on?”