On Return

"Get up you pathetic mongrel!"

"…"

"I said, GET UP!" A swift punt to the face of the boy knelt upon the ground had left him prone on the enriched black earth. The assailant picked him up and wiped away the blood and dirt from his face. "That patrol is soon to come, and if you don't—"

"Tanril! They're getting closer!" A man yelled, rushing from the bushes.

"Damn it!" She yelled, throwing the boy over her shoulder. "Open the trunk, Jarq! We'll have to hope those Newforest dolts don't look through the supplies."

The man moved swiftly and opened the only intact container in the remains of the smashed cart. He deftly vaulted over the body of the boar the boy had dropped the cart on and managed to kill soon after.

Once Tanril bound the limp bleeding boy with fresh leather straps, Jarq picked him up and laid him in the chest as neatly as he could. Tanril then covered the half-open chest with a tarp and worked to hide the remnants of the mask that silenced the boy within the bushes, while Jarq climbed up the cliff face that shaded their makeshift encampment.

"This will have to do… How far away are they?" she asked Jarq, dusting her hands clean of dirt.

"Not far"

"Then get down from there. Start harvesting the body of that boar," ordered Tanril.

Jarq leapt from the cliffside and ran over to the boar's corpse, knife in hand. "Stupid kid, shouldn't have let him out of my sight. Why'd the suicidal idiot let himself get gored?" He complained as Tanril came up beside him.

"Too late now, Jarq. At this point, we just have to make sure to fool them." Tanril responded, and joined Jarq in carving the massive beast, waiting for the inevitable encounter.

No sooner had she nearly stuck her knife into the boar, had a pair of masked strangers cut through the brush. The weapons these strangers held flashed, disappearing from their hands, as they pulled the distinctive blue and red cloaks draped over their shoulders from the thorns they were caught in.

Tanril's eyes widened at the sight. Absolvers, she thought to herself, as she looked toward Jarq, discreetly motioning him to continue working. She began to stand, knife tucked away behind her.

"You. Tearans, explain the origin of the commotion." Commanded one of the Absolvers, disdain dripped from every word that resonated from behind his mask.

"Well, we were just hunting this beast and he was caught off guard when it charged us," responded Tanril in a dulcet voice, placing her hand on the carcass of the boar, pointing to Jarq.

"One can never be too sure when hunting these boars," Jarq added, unamused by her response. "I must say I will never grow accustomed to these monsters' terrifying charges. Would you like a cut? It's fresh," he said sarcastically, while he continued to butcher the animal.

The masks obscured any emotion that could be gleaned from the Absolver's reactions. Tanril kept her posture relaxed, betraying her increasing worry as the silence crept on. The other Absolver walked forward towards the cart but stopped as blood splashed at his foot from Jarq's direction.

"Sorry about that. Knife slipped," he said, ominously.

The Absolver swaggered towards Jarq. "I do not fear blood staining my wear, Tearan," he threatened.

Jarq stood at the provocation, rising to meet the Absolver's gaze. The air turned cold as he tightened the grip on his knife.

Tanril quickly intervened, "Well, I'm sorry to cause such a distraction on your route. We were going to pass through, after harvesting this boar. I hope we didn't take you away from whatever important task you must be doing."

She walked around the boar, away from the cart, hoping to usher the pair of Absolvers away. They once again remained silent as they scanned the area. Seconds passed until the pair looked at each other, seemingly finding nothing of reproach, and turned to leave.

Relieved, she watched them pass when the cart abruptly crumpled on its side, the boy revealing himself as he flailed out from the trunk. When this occurred, Tanril grappled the unsuspecting Absolver to her front, leaving him open to attack as Jarq rushed forward stabbing him relentlessly, shredding his chest with every entry and exit.

The Absolver's body fell to the ground and disappeared with a flash of glittery fractal light. Taken aback, the remaining Absolver summoned his weapon back into reality with a similar flash of geometric light and took a stance, ready to defend against the two attackers.

Jarq initiated the exchange, slashing out with the short blade he held, aiming to slice open the Absolver's throat. The blade cleaved only through air, as the Absolver deftly dipped below the attack, responding with an elegant upward swipe of his blade as he rose.

Jarq stepped back in pain, and the Absolver moved to follow through with a stab. Tanril kicked his arm away before the sword made contact, and struck the Absolver in the head. The Absolver was briefly stunned by the blow, but he leaned forward in response, kicked his leg out, and struck Tanril up through her gut. She dropped to her knees, feeling something break.

Quickly turning to his other opponent, the Absolver leapt and twisted in the air as he kicked out, aiming for Jarq's skull. The attack felt clean, however bracing for the impact, Jarq absorbed the force of the falling kick. Catching the Absolver in the air with a violent uppercut, Jarq sent the Absolver back to the ground.

Tanril quickly rose to intercept the fall with a vicious knee to his back, ignoring the searing pain at her side. The Absolver staggered forward reeling from the impact, but quickly got back into position.

As his enemies rushed toward him, the Absolver raised his fist to the air and slammed it to the ground. A light shone from the earth as it cracked and shook, forcing his foes to their knees.

The Absolver primed for a powerful strike. He torqued his body, his muscles tensed. He unleashed a kick that arced through the air, knocking them both to the ground, prone.

Taking the opportunity he created, he ran to the boy. "Follow the trail through the brush, do not stop until you hit the road, and then run to the east. NOW!" The Absolver commanded, as he desperately cut the boy's bindings, seeing the other two had begun to recover. The boy spat blood at the mask of the Absolver but began to escape toward the trail nonetheless.

Turning back to his opponents, he ran his sword through the chest of the still-dazed Jarq. The impaled man let out a sharp whine, his breath leaving him as he fell, bleeding in the dirt. Tanril's eyes widened at the sight. Furiously, she took Jarq's knife and drove the blade into her enemy's leg, slicing down to the heel as the Absolver dived out of the way.

She turned to face her opponent. Despite the damage the Absolver took in their bout, he remained steadfastly at the ready, waiting to face her. They stared at one another, unmoving, calculating what would be the best approach to finish this fight.

Tanril threw the blade she held at the Absolver, but he deftly avoided the attack, prepped to intercept her knee flying towards him. When the Absolver caught her leg he slammed her to the ground. Tanril however, had deceived the Absolver's intuition and she plunged the knife she kept into his neck and ripped it from his throat. She rose back to her feet and paid no mind to the now-disappearing body of the Absolver.

"Tenacious brat," Tanril whispered to herself, as she hobbled towards where the boy had gone. "Shouldn't take too long to grab you again." She continued down the path, following the boy's tracks. The blood from his prior wounds occasionally dotted the foliage, marking every path he took, betraying his attempts to hide his heading.

The boy, still weak from his confrontation with the boar and the beating dealt by his kidnappers, began to show signs of exhaustion from the day's events. His travel slowed; his attempts at misdirection ceased; he knew it would be a matter of time before he was caught. Rather than run. He chose to hide within the brush. He dug his fingers into the gash at his side, a reminder of the melee he had with the boar, and flung his blood down the path ahead of him, a final attempt to deceive his hunters. He crawled into a bush and lost consciousness waiting for the danger to pass.

When the boy awoke, he felt the warm crackling of a fire. Bandages hugged his body and face comfortably, and his pain felt dulled. Leather straps bound his arms and legs. He cursed silently, doing his best to keep his body limp and his breath steady, keeping his eyes closed.

"Ah, you're awake. Well, I must say, in all my years, you are by far the hardiest little mongrel I've ever had to deal with," noticed Tanril, "Stop pretending to sleep, child. Best you eat, get some energy, I won't be carrying you the whole way on my own." She continued dolefully, briefly caressing the knife she held before taking a cut from the spit of meat cooking over the fire. The boy remained silent, unmoving.

"Fine," Tanril tossed the slab of freshly cooked meat in front of the boy. "Eat when you're ready, come daybreak we continue back." She sat down, next to the flames. Confident she was far enough away from any nearby patrol of Absolvers, she let the fire burn bright, as she tended to her wounds.

The night dragged on, and the boy saw his opportunity to escape at the sight of his capturer lying by the dying flame. He slowly wormed his way to the dimming light and reached within for the bone in the charred center. He stuck his hands into the embers, teeth bared, biting into his cheeks as his fingers felt through the cinders and ash. The remnants of the flame crackled as soon as he pulled away the smooth bone, nicking his fingers on the sharpened edge when he grasped it.

Startled by the sudden noise, he paused. A glance at his captor showed no change in her demeanor, and he began to cut away at the restraints on his legs. Careful to avoid any unnecessary sound, he held his breath as he cut the binds. Slowly, surely, every mark cut, guaranteed his eventual freedom.

Soon, he loosened his legs enough to shimmy out of their bindings. Looking around, arms still bound, he spotted a blade, stuck in the trunk of a tree. Creeping towards it, he struggled to take it out silently. When he pulled the knife free, dead bark toppled out, pittering across the dirt and his bare feet.

Careful not to crunch the freshly fallen source of sound, he approached Tanril, blade in hand. With every step, he sliced away at the bands wrapped around his forearms. As soon as the restraints snapped off he lunged toward his quarry.

He, however, was not prepared for Tanril's cracking retribution for his attempt on her life. She snapped out her fist with the speed of a whip as he began to dive, landing a crushing blow to his groin.

The boy howled in pain and could barely take in a breath, as he buckled to the ground writhing in the dirt.

"You're a fool to think you could get the better of me, even while I rest," Tanril sneered, as she stood, throwing the boy off her. "This knife. Is not. Yours!" Her voice rose in anger to overtake the boy's cries, as she stole away the knife and kicked his bandaged torso.

"You're sloppy! Indiscrete! How will you serve Marek, when you pride yourself over everything?" She continued to yell out, as she set her knee pressed atop the boy's reopened wound, pushing ever more into his chest.

The boy's agonized screams were silenced as Tanril's viselike grip shut his throat. His choked coughs petered out. Tanril drew close and venomously growled, "I wish I could kill you, mongrel. Every day now, I've had to suffer your presence in my course. Desperately, I wait for the day that I can end your miserable life."

She held her position a moment longer. "But I cannot, Marek wills it so." Tanril proclaimed, getting off the gasping, agonized boy. "For whatever reason, he finds enjoyment in your antics, your pathetic escape attempts, your 'will' as he so deftly put it." She spoke, kneeling back down to address the boy's wounds.

He whimpered, as Tanril removed the bandages, bloodied and ruined by their recent abuse. She threw them into the smoldering flame, along with the dry wood she had gathered previously. Once the fire was brought back to life, Tanril placed the blade of the knife into the flames. She grabbed her waterskin and began to clean the bleeding wound with a wet rag. Once free of the grime, she began to stitch the wound closed once more.

The boy was drenched in sweat through the pain he felt and winced at the insertion. "Oh please. You've dealt more pain to yourself than I have. Besides, these pinpricks aren't going to be enough to stop your bleeding completely." Tanril gleefully said as she reached for the now dully glowing red hot blade, wet rag in hand.

The boy's eyes widened as he began to shuffle backward. "No. No, no, wait-," he croaked before screaming out in agony, as Tanril pressed the burning blade onto his wound.

"There, there. All done" She said, as she took the flat of the knife off his seared wound, now fully closed.

After the string of painful experiences, the boy felt nauseous; his vision faded. He tried to rise deliriously but fell back to the ground taking short sharp breaths, his face contorted before he fell unconscious.

"Well, this will delay travel again," remarked Tanril, "didn't even eat the food I gave, ungrateful brat." Picking up the discarded meat from the ground, she wiped off the dirt it accumulated and took a bite. No point in letting it go to waste, she ate the stale meal while she packed up her supplies. Once ready, she tied the boy up and dragged him out of the clearing, into the night.

The light of the sun high in the sky penetrated the waking boy's eyes forcing them to shut tight before they slowly opened, slightly dazed and dry. He was being dragged across the ground; his limbs bound together behind his back. He began to squirm, to free himself of the line that pulled him along.

Tanril noticed the sudden movement behind her. "Finally!" she groaned, taking out her knife and approaching the boy. He tried to wiggle away, but Tanril quickly caught up with him, cutting the bindings of his legs, and threw the pack of supplies she was carrying on top of him.

"We're less than a day away. You'll be carrying these for the last trek," she ordered, wrapping the handles of the pack across the boy's torso. She walked ahead and pulled on the line as the boy began to rise again and toppled him over. She waited until he stood at the ready, before she walked onwards, the boy following indignantly.

They continued to walk toward the setting sun, up the barren rocky terrain, and came upon a solitary mountain in the distance. Coming closer they found a city nestled above the bare mountain's base. The city walls were built of sandstone, clearly sourced from the same climbing mountain beside it, further defended with wood and metal spikes, and enclosed by a gate paired with a watchtower.

The entryway they now neared was of monolithic construction narrowly reaching up to the height of the walls it was surrounded by. Those dense, colossal, sun-whipped wooden doors wore their scars from ages of protecting its inhabitants proudly. On the partition, the symbol of a grasping hand holding a jewel, its defined shapely edges kept clean, was maintained as though it were a badge of honor.

As they drew close, a horn sounded from above, and the gate began to scrape away the rocks and dirt, kicking up dust as it strafed into the walls. A pair, heavily dressed in makeshift leather armor, slowly moved each door from the inside. The entrance widened with every step they took until it was completely opened. They waited patiently as the rumbling of the ground ceased and the dust had settled before they continued inside. Tanril took the line she held and led the tied boy onward.

They walked briskly, scuffling along the twisting paths and routes of ragged tents and worn aged wagons. The people housed within these traded and sold myriads of trinkets, wares, and supplies, boisterously calling out to the pair and many others passing by in the bustling sandy streets. Not to be delayed from her course, Tanril pushed onwards, pulling the boy along.

As they drew away from the outer reach of the town, the crowds thinned, the sun set deeper into the horizon, and an enormous palace came to view. The steps at the front, short and wide, weathered and worn, tapered to the entrance. The opening was carved with congruous geometric patterns from the smooth stone. The walls surrounding the entryway were made of the same material, though untouched by craftsmen, and were raised high towards the sky, casting a shadow from the palace upon the rest of the city.

They entered, the sterile jade light that came from within juxtaposed the warm low light from the outside torches. Their steps echoed on the polished floor, the sound dissipating off the spiraled columns lined with gold. Stopping just before the rising steps of a gilded throne, they looked at an elderly man as he sat upon it. His face, slightly obscured by thick strands of grayed matte hair, was shaped by deep grooves accenting sunken predatory eyes. He observed his subjects, posture lazy, and continued to let them kneel, waiting silently.

The boy had started to become tired. His arms tied behind his back had become numb, the uncomfortable position they were in cut the flow of blood. The pack on his torso strained his back, heavy from the material scavenged on the trip. His knee ached from all the weight on top of it. He took a step to stand, to relieve some of the pressure, but Tanril kicked his leg, sending him back to the ground.

"You may rise," gestured the elder with his hand, a slight smile on his face as Tanril rose and the boy staggered to his feet.

"Tanril, your report," He commanded.

Tanril let her hands fall behind her back and slightly bowed as she began. "Yes, Lord Marek. Jarq and I traveled three days northeast into the territory of Newforest to gather information on the military presence in the nearest village and capture someone with more information on the greater movements in the region."

She looked pointedly at the boy before she continued, "Rynok had followed us during the trip. When we approached the outskirts of the village, he ran to it. Jarq was able to capture and gag him with the prisoner mask we took before he managed to enter the village proper."

Lord Marek remained stoic as Tanril continued. "We decided to return to Jewel Crest. On our way back, this one dropped the cart and himself down the cliffside back into the Newforest path. The commotion attracted a pair of Absolvers, and Jarq," Tanril choked for a brief moment, "Jarq was killed in combat."

"I retrieved Rynok, treated his wounds, and returned to Jewel Crest." She finished.

Lord Marek let the silence drag out, contemplating the information given. "You were wise to return. The appearance of Absolvers in the outskirts of Newforest bodes poorly," he paused, "Your brother's death will not be in vain Tanril, you may retreat to your quarters. Rest."

Tanril bowed deeply, she cut away the pack the boy still carried and left Marek to deal with the still-bound Rynok.

Lord Marek waited until Tanril had stepped out from the chamber, "So, how did you get caught?"

Rynok looked at him quizzically, unsure of how to respond.

"Three days travel through the wastes without detection from my best trappers, and just before reaching sanctuary, you lose your head and get caught," the lord explained exasperatedly. "Your skills may have grown, but you remain the same callow child that first arrived in my domain."

Marek had shifted forward and shook his head, "I've provided so much, what a waste."

Rynok held an incredulous look. Lord Marek snapped his fingers and Rynok felt strength sap from his body. Tendrils of white light left him and melted together into a jagged glowing stone in the open palm of the elder man.

"What- what was that!" Rynok yelled out, the pain from his escapade crashed around him all at once. His body turned heavy. He fell to the ground, aching. A cold burning was felt crawling through his flesh.

"My blessing, boy. I have taken it back. You will relearn everything from the beginning," Lord Marek proclaimed. He waved a hand and two figures stepped out from the corners of the chamber.

"Some time on your own will remind you of what you have disdained," he said, as they stripped Rynok of his bindings and dragged him deeper into the palace.