The dark tower of smoke was hanging above the small village near the shore, Arion didn't want to request much of his horse. Because he didn't know if there was a battle waiting for them, which was never the case. Ever since he was a little boy, not a weak by without a strange attack on one of their villages. Leaving almost to none survivors, and if there are... Well, let's say that Arion believes that those poor souls, have lost their minds. They keep on raving, about monsters. He and his men entered the village, and it was as he thought. Dead corpses laying everywhere. He turned his horse around.
"Look for survivors," not that he believed that there would be any. It was just like all those other villages inside his father's estate. He himself has being investigating these attacks for the last five years, and his father has spent his adolescent years doing the same thing. With nothing to show for it, nothing but corpses and crazy people talking about monsters. He shock his head as he climbed from his horse. The village was not large, maybe 40 to 60 houses, with over 200 civilians, most of them were cotton farmers. The fields with the now black, fluffy balls were just down the road. A lot of the houses were burned down to the ground, but there was no real fire. A strange marking were in one of the mill's walls. Arion placed his hand on it, it could be claws. With three long sharp nails, if he was going with the monster narrative, which probably not the smartest decision. But he sighed, all the houses needed to be rebuilt, the cotton needs to be replaced, as did the people who lived here. But who wanted to live in an area that was being attacked, from time to time. His father's estate already has a bad reputation for this, his mother can't even show her face inside court without facing ridicule.
"Captain!" one of his men screamed. "We found one that is still breathing!" That was strange, normally there would be no one left alive. He rushed towards where the man was standing, on the ground there was a woman in armor, strange. Normally, farmers can't afford that, they also couldn't afford a sword. Which lay just in arm's reach of the woman, and it wasn't a normal sword either. It was made from some kind of white metal that seemed to glow. "I do not know how she is, captain, but she doesn't look like one of the villagers. But she is still alive, although she is wounded." Arion was able to see that for himself, but he wasn't going to point that out to soldier. The man was only doing his job, and a bit of good news was always welcome. He lowered himself, to examen the wounds a bit better. Three deep cuts, still bleeding, the flesh around the wounds was scorched black as the one conflicting them has burning hands. Or claws. Again, the idea of those monsters came back to his mind. These type of monsters do not exist, it was probably some charlatans who disguised themselves as creatures of nightmares. To attack innocent people, and then to disappear without a trace. And this woman was probably one of them, so maybe he finally will get some answers.
"Bring her to the camp, treat her wounds, but lock her up as well. For all we know, she is the one responsible." He commanded. The soldier nodded and picked up the woman. "The rest of you, pick up some shovels. It is time to give the rest of them an appropriate burial." It was not something he needed to tell them twice, they have done it more times than he was willing to admit. A pained expression covered his face, as he placed the shovel inside the earth. Not willing to let his men do all the work. He trusted his men, but there were a few among them who wondered what kind of nobles the house of Snemåne was. They were not even able to protect their own people, and even released criminals avoided this estate like the plague. Not that he could blame them, and he wanted to answer those questions too. Maybe, maybe, that woman was the key to all the answers, maybe.
*****
The military camp, which was set up near a cliff, was buzzing with activity. Every member as his own duty, and all of them knew what would happen if one thing was not done. The horses were fed, and groomed. Tents were set up, weapons sharpened or mended, food prepared and laundry was being taken care of. Arion was not above these tasks, he sat by a nearby river doing laundry when one of his men joined him.
"Captain," he said, before sitting down with a wicker basket of his own. Only his was filled with the woman's clothes. "She is still wearing her underwear, but I figured that she would want some clean clothes when she wakes up." Arion frowned, they undressed the woman. Who was in no state to give her consent. But then again, she was wounded and all those clothes would make it difficult to address them. It was a thin line, that he wasn't willing to touch. He just focused on his chore. "By the Gods, this river has a strong current." What did he expect, this river led towards the salt fall? One large waterfall, that fall down from the cliff into the sea. It was a beautiful sight, filled with rainbows and the sound of the crashing water. The special kind of salty smell mixed with lavender. "Captain, are you alright?"
"Yes, why do you ask?" he replied. But the man just shrugged, Arion had made it his mission to learn the names of all of his men. Which was an imposible task, his army was pretty big and the men changed from time to time. "I am just glad that there will be a shimmer of hope."
"How come?" The soldier asked.
"Because of that woman, she might know the answers to what ever attacks those villages. Maybe she is part of the gang who does it." Arion explained.
"Captain, I do not want to rain upon your parade, but do you think she would share that type of information. If she is or was a member of such a gang?" The soldier asked. Arion's head bumped, he had a good point. No, she wouldn't share, not even when he threatens her. But still the shimmer of hope didn't die down, no, it was still burning. "But it would be good if we knew something. We have being fighting this losing battle for decades now. Without the knowledge of what we are fighting."
"I will not call it fighting," Arion said. "Burring our people, or treating their wounds. That is all we have being doing, there were no blades drawn." The soldier laughed.
"That is true, that is so true. And I hate to admit that." the soldier said. "I hate it every time we are back at the city and I need to face my father in shame. Not that I have anything to be ashamed about, he knows how it is. He served his time under your father's command." Then indeed his father knows what it was like. It is because of these strange attacks, that every man living inside the Snemåne estate needed to serve five years inside the army. There are men that stay longer, but not a lot of them. Not that Arion could blame them after five years, he has seen enough dead people to last a lifetime. And the lack of answers doesn't help either. "But still, I am proud to be able to offer my people some kind of service." Arion looked at him with a smile.
"I am sorry that I need to ask you this, but what is your name, soldier?" He asked.
"Tom, sir, Tom Ebbesen. And you do not have to apologize for not knowing my name." Tom said. Arion looked at him, bronze skin tone, gray eyes and sandy hair. He knew that over time all of his men were looking the same to him. But Tom seemed a decent block. Honest, but not disrespectful. "So I am done," Tom threw the last piece of the woman's clothes back into his basket. "I will hang them inside the tent, just in case." Arion nodded. Yep, decent, he was also done with his portion of the laundry. He picked up his basket, and carried it back to camp. He went to the medical ward, after he hung out the clothing and sheets to dry. The weather was at least nice, and he hoped for his men that it stayed that way. The doctor stood up from his chair, when Arion entered. The woman lay on a bed inside a cage.
"I examined her wounds, sir. They were deep, and the sides were burned." Something he already knew. "The strangest thing is that the wounds started to heal on their own, during my examination. Even the burned flesh changed back to its original color." That was indeed strange. "So I just bound them, and I will check them later." Arion nodded, this strange woman with her strange ability to heal burned flesh. Who was she, and where did she get that strange sword from. None of the blacksmiths inside his camp knew what kind of material the white glowing metal was. The doctor left and Arion sat down on the now empty chair. The woman's strawberry blond hair lay next to her on the pillow in a simple braid. Her limestone skin tone was when he first saw her inside the village a bit pale. But like the doctor said, that slowly came back to her. She was beautiful, he wasn't going to lie about that. Her eyebrows twitched slightly, before she opened them. Gray eyes were looking shocked at her surroundings.
"Keep laying down, your wounds haven't healed yet. At least not according to the doctor." Arion said, her gaze snapped towards him. "I am Arion Snemåne, the oldest son of Lord Snemåne and captain of the Snemåne army. Now you know who I am, do me a favor, and please tell me your name."
"Kiara, Kiara Håber. I am a knight of The Core of Protection. A secret organization that defend these lands against Riftwalkers." She said. Who in the name of the Gods were The Core of Protection, he never heard of them. Well, she said that they were a secret organization, so that might be the main reason. And what were Riftwalkers, an image of a monstrous being jumped up in his mind. No, no, this couldn't be happening. Those creatures do not exist. They couldn't be, but how those he explain, those marking on the mill's wall. The three cuts in her flesh, he didn't know. He wanted to ask her so much more questions. But she has fallen back to sleep.
