Titania watched, stunned, as Noct’s fists smashed into the guard’s face until it was nothing but a bloody flattened mess of torn flesh and broken bits of bone. The Tribe Slayer stood, his arms covered in blood, green eyes bereft of any warmth, and turned to Titania. “Get up.”
“I…” Titania glanced at the dead sune and back at Noct. Her hand stung from her own flame that had failed and exploded in front of her. Whatever mana she had swirling within her was tied in a jumble of uncertainty and fear. A part of her screamed at her to run away. The Tribe Slayer had killed the guard, there was nothing stopping him from killing her too. She would have run, if she could find the strength in her legs.
Vela coughed and rubbed her neck. “He’s right,” she said between another bout of coughs, then sat up, and gave Noct a wary look. “We need to get out of here. Before others come looking for us.”
“Vela, you’re alright.” Titania was relieved. When the guard had squeezed Vela’s neck, Titania thought he had broken it.
“How far are we from Bright Wind?” Noct asked.
“That village was destroyed by the midnight sun. It’s nothing but ruins now,” Vela said.
“It doesn’t matter. Where is Bright Wind?” Noct demanded.
Vela swallowed hard and stared at his blood-stained hands. “A little ways to the east.”
“Show me.” Noct marched over to her and lifted her up by the shoulders as if she weighed nothing more than a toddler.
Vela blinked in surprise and nodded stiffly. “Okay.”
“No. Wait. We can’t leave yet.” Titania pushed herself to her feet with a slight wobble. “I need to get my amulet back.”
“Amulet?” Noct asked.
“The warden has it. I think,” Titania said.
“Are you still on about that?” Vela said. “We were almost killed by one guard. And you want to go towards more of them?”
“I need the amulet.” Titania clenched the bottom of her blouse and stared at the ground. “I’ll go alone if I have to.”
“Throw your life away if you want to. I’m not dying here,” Vela said.
“The warden has your trinket?” Noct asked.
“Um, yes. I think so.” Titania tried to hide her surprise and nodded.
“Hm. Good. I must speak with him.” Noct picked up the dead guard’s sword and gave it an experimental swing.
Titania didn’t believe the desert warrior wanted to exchange words with the warden, but she thought it best not to question him.
“But, what about escaping?” Vela asked.
“I’ll escape after I find the warden,” Noct said.
Vela looked to the east, towards freedom, and then at the tents standing in her way. She couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t come across any guards before making it out of the camp. She needed the Tribe Slayer’s help. “Fine,” Vela sighed in defeat. “Follow me.”
~~~
Vela periodically glanced in every direction as they skulked past the tents, searching for any patrolling guards. Outside the area with cages and wagons, the slavers were very lax with their patrols.
The trio only came across a single guard, who wasn’t even looking in their direction. It didn’t stop Noct from coming up behind and decapitating him. Titania tried her best not to look as the body fell, blood squirting onto the sand. Even Vela looked as if she wanted to throw up. Noct was unperturbed.
In fact, as they walked, Noct went out of his way to stab his sword into the bedrolls of sleeping men by their fires. Titania had never seen such callous deaths. Even when she had borne witness to her mother executing a criminal, Lady Lydira at least had the decency to say a few words before sentencing them to burn. Titania had hated coming to those executions, but her mother had insisted.
“We’re here,” Vela whispered, pointing to the large dark blue tent in front of them. There were no men standing guard outside. “We should be careful to not wake him— Hey, wait!”
Noct strode in and flung the tent flap aside. The tent was filled with various chests. A pair of tables with food assortments and wine sat on the other side. In the middle was an empty linen cot.
“He’s not here,” Noct said.
Titania and Vela poked their heads at his words.
“Oh, thank the gods.” Titania scurried inside and began looking for her amulet.
“Where is he?” Noct asked.
“He’s probably in one of the tents fucking some of the slave girls,” Vela said.
“Found it!” Titania stood over an open chest and held up her amulet, alongside the golden rings for her small horns.
“Great. Then can we go?” Vela asked.
As if to answer her question, the warden drunkenly stumbled into the tent, holding a bottle in his hand. He looked up at the trio in confusion. “What the—?”
Noct didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the warden by his fat neck and lifted him up. The warden flailed and went for his dagger. Noct snatched it out of his hand and stabbed the warden in the thigh with it. The sune man’s eyes went wide and he would have screamed had he been able to breathe. Titania hid behind Vela, who couldn’t help but smile in vengeful satisfaction at the man’s pain.
“I am going to let you breathe and you’re not going to make a sound except to answer my questions. Otherwise, that dagger is going straight into your neck.” Noct lowered the man and loosened his grip, but did not let go.
The warden gasped for air and looked at Noct with fear, his eyes no longer clouded with wine.
“There was a caravan not far from Red Pond. Was anything recovered from it?” Noct asked.
A shiver raced up Titania’s spine.
“You’re looking for the weapon, too?” the warden said.
“How do you know about that?” Noct twisted the dagger.
The warden cried in a muffled moan but held back from screaming, lest he be killed on the spot. “I-I-I heard about it. There were others searching through the wreckage?”
“Whom?” Noct asked.
“I don’t know. They wore white cloaks and masks. They were some sort of battle mages, I think. They were interrogating all the nearby caravans, searching for something.”
“Something?” Noct asked.
The warden nodded repeatedly and licked his lips. “There was a rumor, yes, a rumor, spreading across the taverns all the way from the city of Olduun to the outskirt villages deep in the desert. Some kind of weapon was being transported. Powerful. Very powerful.”
“And did these cloaked men find it?” Noct asked.
“I had one of my men follow them from a distance. He came back the next day. Says he saw them carrying a giant chest wrapped in chains and covered in magical wards.”
“Where were they going?”
“I don’t know?”
“What direction?” Noct twisted the dagger again.
The warden whimpered. “N-N-North, I think!”
“Olduun is in the north,” Vela muttered and slowly turned to Titania.
Though Vela said nothing, Titania could see it in her eyes. The older woman was starting to put the pieces together. The caravan near Red Pond. The noble girl from Olduun. If Vela said anything, Titania would find herself with a dagger in her leg, too.
“Please,” Titania mouthed silently.
Whether it was her plea or the terror on the young woman’s face, Vela furrowed her brow and held her tongue.
“There will be others looking for the weapon. I could help you find it,” the warden offered with a tremble in his voice.
“I told you not to speak if you weren’t answering my questions.” Noct pulled out the dagger from the man’s leg.
“No! Please, no!” the warden screamed.
A slaver burst into the tent, sword drawn. Noct tossed the warden aside and clashed blades with the slaver. A dozen shouts erupted from the camp.
“Run!” Vela said.
Titania glanced between Vela and Noct, frozen.
“Go,” Noct yelled and cut down the slaver with a quick flash of his blade.
Vela grabbed Titania’s hand and dragged her out of the tent. Noct was a few steps behind them. Men jumped out of their tents half-dressed, weapons in hand. The guards on patrol were collapsing on their position. Vela stumbled to a halt as a pair of guards appeared before them.
Noct rushed past her and struck one down, before spinning around and attacking the other. Despite the bloodshed, Titania stared at the battle with awe. She had never seen someone fight quite so brutally, almost like a beast.
“This way!” Vela dragged her back to reality.
Titania struggled to keep up with the taller woman. The sounds of dying men echoed behind her. Noct was suddenly running next to them. Several more slavers rushed to block their way.
“Keep going.” Noct leaped into the fray.
Vela ran, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched for the quickest way out of the encampment. Titania held her burned arm close to her chest. The failed spells had taken most of her energy and she found her breath coming harder with each step.
“Hurry, princess,” Vela insisted. “Over here—” She cried out suddenly and fell in a stagger. An arrow protruded from her back.
“No!” Titania rushed to her side.
Vela gasped for breath and coughed up blood.
“No,” Titania cried.
Noct burst through a tent, cutting it down with his sword. He took in the sight in a single beat, then scooped up Vela and threw her over his shoulder. “Get up, girl.”
Titania did as she was told but her every breath came strained and harder than the last.
“What are you doing, girl? Run!” Noct said.
Before she could reply, another slaver came charging at them with a spear. Noct hurled his sword and the blade struck the slaver in the chest, sending him flying back.
“Wait, what are you— ah!” Titania yelled in surprise as Noct grabbed her and threw her over his other shoulder.
He ran faster than Titania had ever gone. The wind whistled in her ears, the tents going by in a blur. His step was light as if walking on the air itself. The sands gave way to his every step and soon enough the shouts of the slavers faded in the distance. Even when their camp disappeared over the dune where they stayed, Noct kept running.
“That… way…” Vela mumbled.
Noct followed her gaze and turned. After a few more minutes, his breath became short and he finally slowed down to a halt.
Titania wasn’t sure how far they had traveled in a span of ten minutes but she was certain it was at least a whole league. Titania looked back the way they came and was surprised to find there was no trail of footsteps. “How did you—?”
Noct unceremoniously tossed Titania off him.
“Ow.” She winced and rubbed her bottom.
Noct ignored her and carefully laid Vela down and turned her on her side. Her body had gone limp and her eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness.
Though it was still dark, Titania could see the blood pooling over her shirt. “I… Is she going to be okay?”
“The arrow pierced her lung,” Noct said with a calm that came with having seen many such injuries before. He ripped the back of Vela’s shirt off and examined the wound. “You’re a mage, right?” he asked, without looking in Titania’s direction.
“Huh? Uh, y-yeah, I am,” Titania said nervously.
“Are you a White? Can you heal her?”
“N-No. I mean, yes. I am a chromatic white, but I don’t know how to heal.” Titania swallowed a horrible lump of guilt in her throat.
How many times had her mother and tutors urged her to study? How many times had Titania ignored them and in favor of studying orange magic? Healing spells required an intimate understanding of anatomy, which meant twice as many books she had to learn. A task, Titania could not be bothered with. She’d much rather learn the mysteries of fire and flame. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What is her name?”
“Huh?”
“The woman. What is her name?”
“Vela. Her name is Vela.”
Noct leaned down and kissed the dying woman on the forehead. “Rest well, Vela of the sune people.” He pulled the arrow out and stabbed it into the soft part at the back of her head. Vela seized for a moment, then went limp.
“What did you do…? What did you do!?” Titania screamed and tackled him.
Noct shoved her aside. “Calm yourself.”
“You killed her!” Tears streamed down Titania’s cheeks.
“She was killed the moment the arrow pierced her back. Would you rather I prolong her suffering? Let her final moments be those of pain and confusion?”
“No. I— I don’t know…” she mumbled.
The two sat in silence in the cold evening of the desert, under the light of the silver moon. Titania clutched her amulet and wished she were home with her mother and Naomi.
~~~
…The next morning…
Alden sat on a crate, nursing the wound on his thigh, while sipping a bottle of spirits, and overseeing the work of his slaves and crew. He knew it was a bad idea to have kept the Tribe Slayer alive. They should have killed him when they found him unconscious in the sand.
Instead, Alden had been greedy and tried to claim the bounty on the notorious killer’s head. Alden had even had his crew beat the Rulus half to death just to make sure he wouldn’t escape his confinement.
Alden shook his head.
That mistake had cost him dearly.
Somehow, Noct had escaped along with the noble girl and some upstart farmer’s wife. The Tribe Slayer had lived up to his name and cut fourteen of his men during his escape. Now, Alden was left to pick up the pieces. Or rather, his crew and slaves were.
As they worked, a tall figure emerged at the top of the dune, wrapped in a cloak of ebon black. Odd to wear such dark colors during the daylight hours of the desert, Alden thought. He watched the figure walk towards the camp, suspicion growing in his gut.
A couple of slavers tried to block the stranger’s path, but Alden called them off. The stranger walked past them and came face-to-face with Alden. “Are you the one in charge?”
“Aye. I am the warden of this caravan. And who are you?”
The stranger tilted his head up, revealing a pair of lilac eyes beneath the cowl of his cloak. “I am son to Calamity. It would be wise of you to speak only when asked.”