The waitress placed four mugs on the table before the group of sitting bandits.

After exchanging the Paravellan for his second payment, Kollo wanted nothing more than to leave this backwater town. However, after spending almost a week in the forest hunting and foraging for their meals, when one of his men suggested a visit to a local tavern, Kollo was hard-pressed not to accept the offer.

Now they were sitting at a table positioned at the corner of two stone-brick walls, waiting for their meals. While his subordinates wasted no time downing their beverages, Kollo's gaze wandered around the room. Multiple candles decorated the interior, casting a warm amber glow on the wooden columns and beams holding up the roof and framing the brick walls. It reminded Kollo of a simple yet sturdy skeleton propping up a comfortable establishment. An establishment that fostered a dull silence encouraged by the lack of patrons within. Kollo didn't mind waiting in the quiet while the faint smell of their meals began to waft from the kitchen, whetting the appetites of him and his men.

The bandit leader then faced his men to see them still drinking and conversing with one another. Kollo, however, distanced himself from their interactions and frowned down at his own untouched mug.

He was still thinking of the Paravellan. A shame, really. He did like him. But when the option was presented to him, Kollo knew that he made the right decision.

The bandit suddenly felt a soft tug on his sleeve. He looked down to meet his son's eyes. "Hm?"

"You okay?" the boy asked.

Kollo furrowed his brow before realizing that he had been staring blankly at his mug for the past few minutes in silence. The bandit closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them up again. He then offered his son a small smile while ruffling his scruffy black hair.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Is it your hand? You don't look so good. You should get that looked at."

"I said I'm fine."

The boy fell silent before asking another question. "Do you think the Paravellan will be alright?"

Kollo didn't answer straight away. He picked up his mug. "He's fine. If the employer wanted him dead, he would have paid me to do it." He then drank his beverage.

His son tugged at his sleeve again. "Papa?"

Kollo placed the mug back down onto the table. "Hm?"

"Can I see it again?"

With a raised brow, the bandit followed his son's gaze at the ruby dagger strapped to his belt. He looked back at the boy to see him patiently waiting. Kollo could only frown as he eventually capitulated to his son's whims, pulling the dagger from his belt and slowly handing it to him. "Be careful."

The boy snatched it from his father's grasp. "I'm not gonna cut myself." Kollo watched his son hold up the blade and admire it with little regard for the other strangers in the tavern.

"That's not what I meant," said Kollo as he placed a hand over the dagger to gently force him to lower it from view. "This is valuable. So you shouldn't wave it about."

For good measure, Kollo scanned the tavern around him for any covetous eyes. Luckily, not only did no one notice the aesthetically extravagant dagger but there weren't many people in the tavern to begin with.

"Don't worry, boss." Kollo turned back to his table, facing the bandit who spoke. Corey was his name, if he recalled. Corey continued, "They're all afraid of us. We're safe here."

"Besides," another bandit chimed in, "there's not that many people in here."

Kollo fought not to roll his eyes at the obvious statement as his men all nodded in agreement. The bandit leader studied the tavern and its residents once more to ease his mind. "Hm."

Suddenly, Kollo was jolted by a loud bang and a shaking table. He whipped around to see one of his men snoring loudly with his cheek flattened on the wooden surface and a stream of saliva pooling onto the table.

One of the other bandits guffawed at the fallen comrade. "Whoa-hoho! You never were able to hold your liquor! Haha!" Kollo frowned down at the sleeping man. How many drinks did he have?

With one bandit unconscious and the other drawing unnecessary attention to himself with obnoxious intoxicated laughter, Kollo noticed the other bandit, Corey, was comparatively reserved. Instead, his attention was fixated on the bartender of the tavern.

"Hey," said Kollo.

The bandit named Corey jerked up and faced Kollo. "Yes, boss."

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Corey answered with a shrug. "It's just..." The bandit gestured at the bartender. "I was just wandering where Franc is."

"Who?"

"Franc is the usual bartender of this tavern. I've been in this town a few times. I always come here. And every time I do, I see Franc behind that bar." The bandit noticed Kollo's eyes on him. He shrugged again. "It just feels strange not seeing him here." The bandit then took to his drink.

When it was clear that he had nothing more to say, Kollo took his eyes off of the bandit to study the man standing behind the bar across the room, drying a mug with a cloth. He had dark hair and a beard; nothing overly remarkable about his appearance.

Kollo didn't exactly know what he was looking for or why he was doing so. Either way, he didn't find it. He lifted his mug and took another sip of his beverage before placing the mug back onto the table.

***

He didn't remember falling asleep but he knew he was waking up from the sound of his own breathing coupled with an incessant dripping on a stone surface somewhere in the room. Kollo's eyes slowly started opening to a blurry vision of his environment.

"Hey," said the familiar voice of a man. "I think he's waking up."

When his vision began to clear, his eyes were eventually subjected to the sight of a pitch black environment that welcomed him with an abrasive chill. The only source of light in the room was streaming from a small hole of a window positioned high on a wall, several strides away from him. However, despite the low lighting, Kollo didn't need it to recognize the two men standing before him: Juren's bodyguards.

The bandit attempted to step forward only to be halted by a sharp metallic tugging on his wrists, feet and throat. The more he fought to move ahead, the harder the cold metal dug into his skin and the louder the chains rattled behind him. He continued struggling and writhing in his restraints until it became clear that he wasn't going anywhere. Defeated, Kollo slumped back up against the stone wall behind him. The room fell silent with the only sound coming from Kollo's heavy breathing. Then he broke the silence.

"Wha..." the bandit slurred. He tried again. "Where am I?"

"Morning, Kollo." Another familiar voice. "I trust that you slept well."

That was when Juren suddenly materialized from the curtain of darkness that plagued the room. He continued to speak, "Slipping the tonics into your drinks wasn't easy. The previous bartender wasn't amenable to our plans. So, we had to replace him." Juren shook his head. "You have loyal friends in the strangest places." He then turned to his two large bodyguards. "Go and fetch our other little guest. I hope he's calmed down since last night."

The two guards nodded and disappeared into the darkness of the cold prison. In the distance, Kollo could hear the sound of a gate being opened and closed, signalling their departure.

"Juren?" was the only word Kollo could manage to say at the moment.

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"What are you doing here?" The bandit had a barrage of other questions he wanted to ask but he lacked the energy to do so.

Juren casually continued his one-sided conversation. "The first time we met, I hired you to find someone and paid you handsomely for it. With gold that didn't belong to me. And, if I have to be honest..." Juren then pulled out the ruby dagger from his belt with one hand and with the other he held up Calibur's Warwielder in full view before Kollo like a taunt. "Neither of these belong to me either."

Kollo's eyes never left the Warwielder in Juren's hand. "You're right. That is not yours."

Juren then held the blade up to the darkness behind him. "It's not yours either."

As if on cue, a hand emerged from the shadows and grasped the sword from Juren's fingers. When the rest of his body became visible in the low light, Marschal took the sword away from Juren before offering Kollo a crooked grin.

"You..." Kollo growled.

"Hey," Marschal responded with a feigned sheepish smile.

"What's happening?" Kollo demanded. "Why are you here? Why am I here?"

"You have a lot of questions," said Juren.

"I won't lie," Marschal chimed in. "It's very strange seeing you like this. All dishevelled and unprepared."

"Answer me, Paravellan." The words seethed through Kollo's teeth. "Why am I here?"

It was Juren who answered. "Same reason as them, I imagine." He then gestured down the wall that shackled Kollo.

The bandit followed Juren's gaze and had to squint through the darkness. At first, all he could see were silhouettes. It wasn't until his eyes eventually adjusted to the lack of light did his face suddenly grew pale. He could see enough to identify two of his men hanging from the stone wall in chains. And their throats slit open and dripping red. Kollo tore his eyes away from his slaughtered subordinates only to face another one of his men in the same state draping off the wall on the other side of him. The bandit named Corey stared back at him with dead eyes and an open red throat.

Kollo whipped around to face Juren and struggled once more in his chains, growling and roaring, like an animal wanting to tear the skin off his handler. "I will kill you," the bandit snarled through gritted teeth. He then looked to Marschal. "Both of you."

"And after all the effort we went through to lure you here," Juren replied.

The bandit turned back to Juren with a furrowed brow. "Lure me here?"

"Well, specifically, lure you here without your mighty army of killers. We first needed to find a way to get rid of all that."

Kollo's numb mind struggled to make sense of what he was being told. "That would mean..." No. It couldn't be. Kollo met Juren's eyes. Then Marschal's. "The elves. You knew they were coming."

Marschal cocked his head. Then grinned.

"...You led them there." Kollo thought out loud with widened eyes.

"It wasn't easy," said Juren. "The others and I had to travel the countryside dropping hints about the Paravellan with the magical sword. It was only a matter of time before the elves found him." Juren placed a hand on Marschal's shoulder.

Kollo shook his head. "Others?"

"You have a lot of enemies," Marschal answered. "A lot of people like Juren, here."

The bandit turned to his former employer. "You hired me to catch him."

"Yes. I did." Juren replied.

"You...wanted me to catch him." His captors offered him nothing but blank stares while Kollo attempted to navigate through his thoughts. "You...wanted the elves to destroy my town." He wasn't sure whether that was a statement or a question.

"It was never your town," Juren countered.

Kollo ignored the response. "You...knew that I'd travel here." He looked up at Marschal. "You knew that I'd take you with me." That was a statement. Not a question. Kollo felt and knew the truth in those words.

"It almost didn't work," Marschal confirmed. "I underestimated how fast the elves would find me. I thought I had more time. Didn't expect them to employ hunter elves to track me. I guess they're finally learning from their mistakes."

"You could have died."

Marschal nodded. "Yes. I could have. But I knew you would save me."

"I could have left you to die."

"No. You couldn't." The Paravellan inched closer to the bandit with a smug grin. "What's your number one rule, Kollo?"

Don't kill the money. The words were stuck in Kollo's throat.

"Why?" the bandit asked. "Why are you doing all of this? You risked being eaten by war elves just to...just to...just to..."

"Just to tear you and your rabble of murderers down," Juren finished the sentence while stepping forward. Kollo refused to back away from the dark haired man. Juren continued to approach the bandit, addressing him in a dangerously low voice, "After all the towns and homes you've burnt down. After all the fathers, mothers and children you've killed. After all the lives you have ruined. After all the-"

That was when Marschal halted Juren's advance with a hand to his chest. Kollo could see the man's body tremble and his fists clenching. Juren's face warped with a mixture of pain, hurt and pure fury. An expression that only made Kollo laugh. Juren and Marschal both faced him with hard eyes.

"Revenge?" Kollo snickered. "That's what all this is about?" The bandit continued with another bout of laughter, "I get it now. You lost something. And not just you. My enemies you mentioned? I bet they're just villagers and farmers all upset about how I took something from them. But why is that my fault?" Juren responded with a grimace which only widened Kollo's smile. "If you are not strong enough to protect what is yours, then it is no one's fault but your own."

"You bastard," Juren practically snarled as he stepped forward only to be hindered again by Marschal's struggling attempt to hold him back.

"Stop," Marschal grunted while pushing his friend back. "He's trying to provoke you."

"And you." The Paravellan didn't turn around. Kollo knew he was trying to ignore him. But he continued anyway. "What did I take from you? Huh? What did I do to you that was so bad that you would risk your life just to destroy mine? Huh?"

That was when Marschal released his hold on Juren and turned to face Kollo. The bandit was met with a cold, blank stare that mirrored the way that he himself looked down upon the Paravellan in the forest after killing Walton. And in the same manner, Marschal then calmly strolled up to Kollo, closing the distance between their locked gazes until they were eventually staring at each other face to face. He could have tried to attack the Paravellan. Bite his nose off. Or take out one of his eyes. But something within him, an instinct, compelled him not to. Who was this Paravellan?

A dead silence passed between Kollo and Marschal until it was broken with just one word.

"...Nothing."

"What?" was the only reply Kollo could muster.

"What did you do to me?" Marschal repeated Kollo's question back to him. "What did you take from me?" The Paravellan shook his head. "Nothing. I did all of this as a favour to my friend here." Marschal gestured over at Juren with a small grin. Kollo noticed Juren meeting his friend's eyes before turning away.

"A favour?"

"Yes."

"I did nothing to you?"

"No."

Kollo then fell silent, contemplating to himself before looking up at Juren. "Who did I kill?"

The words elicited a snarling reaction from Juren. "What?"

"Friend? No. Wife? Lover?" Juren reciprocated with a cold dead silence that did nothing to prevent Kollo from continuing to speak. "Child?" The bandit grinned as Juren's nostrils flared with heavy breaths. "Son?" Silence. "Daughter?"

Juren suddenly took another step towards Kollo. "Shut up."

Marschal once again stood in his way. "Stop."

Kollo snickered. "Your daughter, huh. Was she pretty?"

Juren never stopped glaring at the bandit in chains until the sound of creaking gates and people's voices echoed against the stone walls. And in the darkness, Kollo recognized a voice among the people entering the cold dungeon.

"Aaargh! Get off me!" cried Centes. "I will kill all of you!"

That was when Juren's two large bodyguards emerged from the darkness with Kollo's son between them writhing in their grasps. All the while, Kollo's face began to pale at his son's treatment. The bandit's fears were exacerbated when Juren approached the boy and gripped his scruffy hair and pulled it back roughly. "Aargh!"

Kollo pulled and struggled in his chains. "Get your hands off of him!"

Suddenly, Juren pulled a steel knife from his belt.

The bandit shook his head. "No. No, no, no. Let him go."

Kollo's eyes widened at the steel edge pressed against his son's throat. "I said LET HIM GO!"

"Juren." Marschal uttered the name, prompting Juren to face him.

"...What?"

The Paravellan didn't answer him. Instead, he looked down to see Centes looking back up at him with a defiant hardness to his eyes. "I will not beg for my life."

Kollo's pride in his son was thrown into the wind when he began to thrash around in his chains with the energy of a father powered by his paternal instincts. "Get that knife away from my son!"

Marschal turned back to Juren. "Are you sure about this?"

It wasn't until Kollo was too exhausted to keep fighting his restraints did he notice Juren's bodyguards frowning down at their employer's treatment of his son.

Juren also noticed this. He replied to Marschal's question. "You disapprove."

"I didn't say that."

The boy groaned as a small stream of blood trickled down his throat.

"Get that knife away from my SON'S THROAT!" Kollo bellowed out.

Juren turned to the bandit with a dazed look, before turning his gaze back to the boy in his grasp.

"Her name was Riela."

He intimately combed his fingers through the boy's hair as he spoke with a soft voice. "She was roughly the same age as your boy. A little round face and a cute button nose. Her mother's curly brown locks. With my blue eyes. She used to play in the garden. And she loved her mother's cooking. Especially her pies. She had a sweet tooth."

Juren smiled at the memory. However, the brevity of that joy disappeared when he looked up to glare at Kollo. "She would have been sixteen now."

The bandit shook his head. "Don't."

Juren ignored the father's plea, refocusing his attention to the young boy trembling beneath his regard.

"Please." Kollo's voice sounded pathetic to his own ears and he rebuked himself for it. From the corner of the bandit's eye, Kollo noticed a slight frown on Marschal's face similar to the guards. "Paravellan." Marschal glanced in his direction. "Don't let him hurt my son," Kollo begged.

The bandit and the Paravellan shared a look. Was he sympathetic? Did he care? Or was he indifferent? Marschal's eyes gave nothing away which did nothing to alleviate Kollo's anxieties. That was when the Paravellan tore his gaze away from the bandit and spoke.

"Juren."

Kollo looked to the man threatening his son to see a pair of misty eyes on a slightly dazed face, almost tired. He slowly snapped out of it like waking up from a dream before facing Marschal.

"Is this your decision?" The Paravellan's words seemed delicate and cautious, as if he were stalking up to a deer who hadn't noticed him yet.

Juren looked back down at the boy whose eyes were shut tight as though he were saving himself from the realities of the visual world by not witnessing it.

That was when Juren began to slowly lower the blade away from the boy's throat, eliciting an audible sigh of relief from Kollo.

"It's not fair," said Juren.

"It rarely ever is," Marschal replied.

Juren offered a small smile. "It should be."