The Bloodaxe assassin stopped spinning and, with a gesture, flung all of the tents and other assorted debris he had gathered away from him. He dropped to the ground and started to run towards Niall with a look that combined boredom and irritation. Clearly he was tired of playing and wanted to finish it.

Niall got to his feet and fell into a crouch. He had been in a state of Flow the whole time to refill himself with untuned Spirit. He needed something different if he was going to beat this behemoth.

As the Spirt built up, he pushed it into his weapon. It took a moment to work out what to do but then it clicked in hi8s mind and it was almost as if the sword was hollow and he could feel his Spirit filling it up. The feeling was like pushing on a spring; the more it filled the greater the effort he had to put in to add more.

“Keep going. Once it feels full Niall can release it.” Pobble’s voice was calm but clear. “Niall will have one chance.”

Niall held his sword in a two-handed grip and kept driving his Spirit into it as the Bulvine sped toward him. He pushed away the doubts that threatened to distract him.

It was all or nothing. This was it.

The Bulvine was almost on him, his mace angled ready for a blow that, if it connected, would break Niall in two. Niall held his sword high. As the mace swung towards him, he twisted to one side and slashed at the Bulvine’s neck releasing Final Strike as he did so.

He could feel and see his Spirit pushing out from the end of the sword. A translucent blade extended out that was both part of Niall and part of the sword. Instinctively, Niall felt that it was sharper and harder than any blade he had ever encountered before. It sliced into the Bloodaxe’s neck and some part of Niall could sense the flesh part and even the iron tang of the blood against the Spirit blade he had created.

Even as Final Strike hit, the mace slammed into his arm and his hip and Niall could feel the bones crumble as he was tossed to one side the sword falling out of hand.

His concentration broke and his vision started to turn black as he hit the ground. Agony infused every part of him but he fought not to lose consciousness despite the pain that seared his body. He tried to stand but his leg would not carry him. Craning his neck, he looked up and then collapsed back in relief. The body of the Bulvine Bloodaxe lay to one side, its head almost severed from its neck and its lifeblood pouring out onto the earth. Its body twitched a few times and then lay still.

Forcing himself to ignore the pain Niall dragged his broken body to hide under the collapsed remains of a tent and concentrated on pulling in his Spirit. There was no sign of Stefan, but he did not think he had been forgotten. Long moments passed and he finally gathered enough Spirit to start the process of Healing himself. These were not the sorts of wounds he was yet capable of healing in others, but while working on his own body, he was able to slowly repair the damage.

The sound of jingling metal came to his ears part way through the Healing process. He had managed to Heal his arm but still had a way to go with his hip and legs. Stefan’s voice rang out in a singsong call.

“Blacksmith. Little Blacksmith. Where are you little Blacksmith?”

There was the sound of shattering wood. “Not hiding there are we little Blacksmith? How about here?”

Niall tried to make himself Heal faster, but he was already pushing himself as fast as he could. Final Strike had drained his Spirit more than anything he had attempted before. A tearing sound and then his voice again, closer this time. “No, not there either. Oh, wait a minute. What is that I see peeking out? Are you hiding little Blacksmith?”

With that, Niall felt himself being yanked out from his hiding place, the movement reopening some of his partially closed wounds. He lay on the ground blinking up at Stefan even as the soldier put his longsword to Niall’s neck.

The soldier stood above him. “Well, haven’t you done well little Blacksmith? Maybe you should have been a soldier instead. Two Bulvine dead, including that Bloodaxe. Would it be bad of me to confess I’m a little bit pleased? I want the pleasure of killing you myself. And now I get my chance.”

Niall saw Stefan lift the longsword into the air. He looked around wildly, but there was nothing he could use as a weapon anywhere nearby. The broken bones in his hip ground together painfully even at small movement. There was no way he would be able to stand, never mind run away.

One last, desperate ploy came into his mind. Without considering whether it would work or not he just did it. reaching out he grabbed one of Stefan ankles and yanked. Niall’s Strength was far higher than it had been in the past and, pulled off balance, Stefan fell to the dusty ground with a huff of air exploding from his lungs, his hand still tightly gripping the sword.

Niall did not allow him to catch his breath as he ignored the fierce pain in his hip and dragged himself over to Stefan. Pushing himself up to half kneeling position resting on his good leg he picked up Stefan wrist and slammed in on the ground until the sword flew out. Then, overcome with fear, rage and exhaustion, he started to rain down punches at Stefan. Stefan tried to fight back, but compared to the strikes Niall had taken from the Bulvine, these were as nothing. With no thought other than survival he landed blow after blow.

Stefan reared up and half pushed Niall off him. Refusing to give up, Niall drove his forehead into Stefan’s nose. It collapsed into a bloody mess and Stefan fell back again even as his hand closed around his sword. Niall’s Perception allowed him to see the blade come towards him and he grabbed his wrist. The two of them locked eyes as they fought for control of the weapon. Niall realised with a shock that, in the months since he had last seen Stefan their strength had almost evened out.

Nonetheless Stefan was still stronger than Niall and the sharp edge inched its way towards Niall’s neck. Stefan’s blood-stained teeth were locked into a grimace, this madness clear in his eyes. Niall gathered his Spirit into him but realised he would not be able to use Final Strike before the Blade reached him. Niall twisted to one side and drove his elbow into Stefan’s midriff. As Stefan’s pressure on the sword slackened for a moment Niall seized the moment and wrenched it round to plunge into Stefan’s throat. Stefan’s eyes widened even as the blood bubbled out of his mouth and he clutched at Niall’s shoulders, then his eyes glazed over and he collapsed onto the ground.

For a moment, fierce exultation ran through Niall’s body. He could not even touch Stefan the first time they had fought, and now he had defeated him. Never again would he have to worry about being attacked by him.

Then the joy faded as Niall looked at his bloodied hands and realised what he had done. He threw the sword to the ground and dropped to his knees next to Stefan, pouring what Healing he could scrounge up into Stefan’s body as he did so. Nothing happened. There was no spark of life left to Heal.

His mind recoiled from the fact he had killed another human being. Gritting his teeth. he carried on pushing Spirit into the body, driving himself harder and harder.

This was a person. Another human. Someone he knew and had spoken to. Admittedly the two of them had not got on, but that was not the point. Niall knew Stefan’s father, the village he grew up in. They had both even been apprenticed to Devon. What would Devon say when he found out?

And now Stefan was dead. And he was the one who had killed him. No. That could not be right. He was not a murderer

He carried on trying to heal him.

“Niall.” Pobble’s voice sounded in his head.

Niall ignored it.

“Niall. Listen. Stefan is dead. There is nothing Niall can do for him now. But there are people out there who are still alive. If Niall carries on doing what he is doing now then they will die. Whatever Niall is feeling, he has to put it to one side, not for his sake, but for those that are still alive.”

Niall did not say anything. Then he stood up and walked back over to the site with the injured soldiers. He did not allow himself to think. Instead, he dropped into a state of Flow and pushed Healing Spirit out into the injured soldiers as fast as he could. As soon as one was past the point of imminent death, he moved onto the next, then the next and the next. Driving himself into weariness, never allowing himself to think.

After around half an hour, he heard the sound of approaching troops and he looked up to see the Killip walk into the battlefield along with several stretcher bearers and two more Healers. Killip’s eyebrows rose as he saw Niall. The Healers and stretcher bearers immediately got to work while Killip walked over to Niall

“How good to see you, Patrol Leader Vendra. I would have thought you would have got a little further than this in the time, but I always thought you were lazy.”

Niall finished Healing the soldier he was kneeling beside and then rose to his feet. “You set me up didn’t you Transven?”

Killip’s eyebrows rose even further. “What could you possibly mean?”

“You sent me here knowing Stefan was waiting for me.”

Killip tapped a thoughtful finger against his cheek. “Stefan? No, that name doesn’t ring any bells at all.” Then his playful mask dropped as he stepped closer to Niall and dropped his voice.

“Be careful with throwing accusations around, Vendra. I sent you here accompanied by a Ranger, what possible danger could you have been in? The whole time you were here there were dozens of witnesses, including the members of your patrol, who will swear I was with them. Given you’re still alive you must have disposed of Stefan somehow so there’s nothing that can tie me to him. I’m clean, and after everything I did in the battle I’m untouchable.”

Killip patted Niall on the cheek and stepped back before speaking in a carrying voice. “Your work here is done Patrol Leader Vendra. Head back to your patrol and continue with the search and rescue mission.”

Niall took a step towards Killip, but stopped at the small smile that spread across the acting Corporals face.

“Oh please, please do it.” Killip said softly. “Attack me right here, right now, in front of all these people. Even if you were alone, Vendra, I would crush you and you know it.”

Niall bit down his anger then turned and stalked off back to his patrol. This was not the time or the place. However, the confirmation he had been set up quashed the feeling of guilt at killing Stefan. He was alive and had survived the assassination attempt. That was all that mattered for now.

***

It took several hours to check the battle field properly, the growing dark as night approached made things harder. Niall did not complain. Working mechanically and methodically to Heal people allowed him not to think about what he had done to Stefan, or what Leon’s intervention meant. He would occasionally see Killip across the battlefield and his emotions would flare to anger.

It was only thought of being able to save people kept him going through the weariness. There were too few survivors however, and too many dead bodies. Niall was often called over to help Heal as survivors were found. He was the only full Healer in the area and his higher-level Healing Skills were often the difference between someone living or dying.

Eventually Tate came over and called them back together. “Good job, we’ve done what we can. I’ve clearance to take us back to camp. The professionals will take it from here.”

In a twisted mirror of the journey out that morning the militia regiment formed up and marched back to the camp. Niall used the time to replenish his Spirit reserves and, through his weariness, helooked around. Of those who had set out, only something over half of them were returning. In addition to himself and Huff, Lupa, Tierra, Penton and Shannon had survived, but they were the lucky ones. Trintor, Vimoni and so many others had not made it.

It was fully dark as they walked back in through the gate. Even as they did so, a harried looking Captain put up a hand to halt them. “Any full Healers in this Regiment take a step forward.” Niall did as he was ordered and was the only one in the Militia Regiment to do so

The Captain grimaced. “I had hoped there would be more of you, but we work with what we have. Acting Lieutenant, I’m commandeering this Patrol Leader. The rest of you can go.” He turned to Niall. “Follow that path straight on and report to Infirmary 2. I appreciate you don’t want to hear this, but your evening has only just started.”