Talix

Talix and Sophia had been traveling through the countryside for days. Their journey so far had taken them through pastures and hills, but now they would need to cut straight through dense wood to gain time on their prey. The map Sophia had drawn up for them showed the most accessible route through the massive forest. The two were so deep in the woods that travel by nightfall was utterly impossible. The dense darkness of the woods at night was so dim that you could not see your hands in front of your face. The sun was beginning to set, marking the end of their progress for the day.

Talix dismounted his horse and quickly ran to his captain’s side to lend her a hand off her horse.

“Sod off, lightweight.” Sophia slapped Talix away. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t need your help dismounting a horse like some dress-draped duchess.”

“Apologies, my lady. Old habits die hard.”

“I’ll make you die hard if you don’t stop it with the pointless chivalry. And stop calling me lady. I am not a lady.”

Talix snorted in response.

A crack of lightning shot across the sky in the distance. Its bright light lit up the encroaching darkness of night for many dozens of miles.

“How odd . . .”

“Never seen a lightning strike before, lightweight?” Sophia teased.

“Of course I have. It’s just there are typically clouds in the sky that precede the lightning. There have been few all day and even less this night.”

Sophia kicked her legs into the air to stretch them. “Quite the mystery. You’re more than welcome to abandon my service and investigate if you so please. Seemed to be three days’ ride thataway.”

“Why must you take every chance to be rid of me? Are you that desperate to hunt these magicians alone?”

“In all my decades as a Sentinel, I’ve never needed help from anyone, much less that of a lightweight Holy Knight like you.”

“I still hold you to your word. I drank your swill, and now I will hunt by your side until I find the face-changing bastard who stole my father’s amulet from me.”

Sophia began unloading her saddle.

“You keep mentioning this amulet like it is one of Saint Myr’s teeth. What is so sulfur-blazing special about it that you would go through so much to get it back?”

“It belonged to my family. It is a holy relic my father used during his battle with the vampire lord of the east before his untimely demise.”

Sophia shook her head in shock, dropping her saddlebags to the ground. “Hold your tongue!” she gasped. “You are the son of Tomix of the White Wing?”

“I am,” Talix stated proudly. “Could you not tell from my second name?”

“So many of you humans share the same second name. It barely counts as a name at all. Who would have thought I would be traveling with the son of one of the empire’s most famous Holy Knights next to Grandmaster Author?”

“Now you see why I was so intent on following you on this journey.”

“Indeed, I do.”

Talix began unloading his weapons from his steed. His Holy Knight spear came first, followed by his arming sword.

“Captain, if I may ask, how do you intend to subdue the outlaws? I could not help but notice that you do not carry a sword, ax, or spear. Aren’t most Sentinels armed with pistols or at least bows?”

Sophia smirked and began digging through one of her larger saddlebags. “Most Traven Sentinels I have met these days are armed with such weapons, but the Sentinels of old used different tools.” She pulled out several rolled-up strands of rope, each with three large lead weights on the ends. Two of these ropes were around five feet long, and another was likely ten feet long with a blunt weight on one end and a sharp blade tied on the other.

“Are these some sort of flails?” Talix asked as he swung the weights in the air. “They seem a bit light for that.”

“These are ancient weapons used by Galatean hunters in the south as well as the ancient Pallumians to the west. I’m not sure what the Galateans called them, but the Pallumians call them bolas. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Taking hold of one of the bolas, Sophia unwound the ropes with one swift jerk. The bound rope became three, and she swung them overhead in a circle. She threw the weights at a nearby tree, wrapping around its entire trunk with the weights tangling together on the other side.

“Sentinels of old would use the bolas to fight on more equal footing with dangerous magicians.”

Talix watched with one eyebrow raised. “I see! One solid hit by one of these would bind a caster’s arms to their sides or at least hinder their movement enough to stop them from casting their spells.”

“It is also useful for binding their legs should they try to flee on foot.”

“What of the longer one? Surely that is too long to throw.”

Sophia picked up the longer rope weapon with the slack in one hand and the blade in the other. She demonstrated a few swings with the knife in midair, and a few guards with the rope held tight between her hands. She swung the bladed end around in wide arcs as it sliced the air with every broad swing. With a quick throw, Sophia launched the knife into the nearest tree and pulled it back into her grasp within seconds.

“This longer one is called a rope-dart for close encounters. I can disarm weapons, bind limbs, and with the end weights, cave some skulls.”

Talix took a seat and drew his wheellock pistol from his saddle. “This style seems quite lovely to watch in action, but I fail to see the reason behind it. How is this primitive weapon any better than the pistol?”

“In truth, it isn’t better when it comes to lethality.” Sophia quickly retracted her rope-dart. It cut a deep wind in the air as she wrapped it around her elbow. “If my goal was to execute every outlaw on sight, this would not be the weapon I would choose.”

“Is that not our goal?”

“You could say I am a bit old-fashioned in my methods. Around three hundred years ago, when the Sentinels were first established in the Avelorn desert, their purpose was to capture magic-casting criminals alive so that they may live to face justice along with a public execution. This way, they could serve not only as a warning to any magicians who believed themselves too powerful to obey the authority of the Cale dynasty but also as a testament to the people that all outlaws will be given a fair trial.”

Talix nodded and closed his eyes to imagine it. “When I aspired to be a Sentinel as a young boy, the first thing I needed to learn was how to load and fire a pistol with great speed. I have never once seen these bolas until tonight.”

“That does not surprise me. The presence of magic in our world has only grown more potent since the Great Happening merged our worlds together. The church and the sovereignty have every reason to grow more aggressive toward magicians who break the Four Laws of Pholton. Powerful magicians left unchecked can wreak unimaginable havoc.”

“Brevn was an unchecked magician that rose to become one of the most dangerous vampire lords to date. Forgive my doubts, Captain, but magicians are too dangerous to be handled gently.”

“They are too dangerous to be handled gently by the untrained masses. I, however, am not among the untrained masses. I believe that former Sovereign Ali-ra had it right the first time. Public execution before a massive crowd goes much further than a simple bullet to the heart in the dead of the night. Both solutions end in the outlaw’s death, but only one acts as a deterrent for future potential outlaw magicians that dare break the laws of Pholton.”

“What if a truly dangerous magician escapes because of your passive tactics and kills dozens before he is put down? Was your potential deterrent worth the risk?”

“That is a true risk, lightweight, but you fail to see the point of the trial. What if you shoot a suspected outlaw through the heart from two hundred feet away, only to find that he was actually an innocent man? What if you miss your mark entirely and kill an innocent civilian because you decided to rely on such inaccurate weapons? This is certainly not uncommon in the central empire, especially since the Sentinels switched to such modern methods.”

Talix said nothing. He had never had to question the guilt of his enemies, for they were almost always the living dead or actual demons from the Hells. These enemies were purely destructive beasts that needed to be put down. Holy Knights rarely had to face the living.

“You have given me much to think about, Captain. I must admit that you impress me a little more every day. You’re every bit as proficient as the men of the Sentinels.”

Sophia stopped her weapon drills and squinted toward Talix. “Was that meant to be a compliment?”

“Of course. Women aren’t normally permitted to join the ranks of the Holy Knights or Sentinel Order. You must have been impressive for them to allow you in.”

“Horseshit!” Sophia yelled. “Women may not become Holy Knights because your leaders don’t wish for us to tempt you with our lustful guiles,” Sophia mocked, “but the Sentinels are not nearly as bigoted and thin-skinned. Many Sentinels are women, and they are every bit as competent as the men.”

Talix furrowed his brow. “That must be how Avelornians recruit their Sentinels, but in the central empire, we do not force such labors on our women. They have enough labors as it is.”

Sophia laughed out loud. “Your ignorance never ceases to surprise me. Avelorn’s population is mostly made of salamandra and gnomes. If you remember our conversation from a few days past, salamandra struggle to have children, as do gnomes to a lesser extent. When a salamandra chooses a life other than that of a mother, she must first produce at least one child to pursue her aspirations. If you do not, then your reputation is tarnished as a selfish wench who cares not for the future of her people. So even though Sentinels do allow women into their ranks, Avelornian women still struggle to join the order far more than the women of other realms.”

“Does that mean you have a child somewhere out there that you abandoned to join the Sentinels?”

Sophia sighed and clenched her fists. Though Talix was a broad, tall human, he felt small next to the sight of his angry captain.

“Of course not! Why do you think I left Avelorn?” she yelled. “I refused to be a breeding bitch for some noble house to continue their line. I left the country at a young age to join the Sentinels in Solemn. My father disowned me, and I cannot return to my place of birth without facing ridicule.”

“Well, rightly so! Sentinels are meant to be defenders of order and of the people. How can you dare to claim that title when you blatantly ignore the laws of your own homeland?”

The Sentinel repacked her bolas and began to storm off into the dark woods.

Talix sighed profoundly and bit his own tongue. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a stroll,” she snapped at Talix. “Don’t follow me.”

The sun breathed its last breath as complete darkness enveloped the forest. Talix sat for a while in deep thought as he removed his armor. As Talix allowed himself to drift further into his own thoughts, sleep began to take him. Few things could rival the relaxing relief of lying down after a full day of riding in full armor. That night he slept like the dead.