Heirs of Hyarch

Myron watched as the fire finally caught onto the crossed sticks.

He knew he could have asked Hamond or Edeline to use a spell to start it. However, his sister was exhausted, sitting on the ground with her head drooping. Hamond, meanwhile, was going through their bags, trying to figure out how to divide what food they had five ways instead of four. He'd have to hurry if he wanted the meal ready before Edeline fully fell asleep.

Besides them not being available, though, there was something satisfying about being able to use his training for the road and camping to handle something like this. It would be better for them to save their energy for the real dangers out there. Threats that could not be stopped with his sword arm.

Meanwhile, Nela was keeping watch, and with her was that girl. Jelinia following Nela around like a dog would was not lost on him. There was something profoundly funny about Nela of all people having an admirer. And although he doubted she would admit it, Nela also was happy to take care of the girl. While Myron didn't think the road was a place for a child that young, they were responsible for her being an orphan. The least they could do was find her a new home, somewhere.

"I figured as much," Hamond said disgustedly.

"What's the problem?" Myron asked.

"They took the coin out of our bags." Hamond straightened up, shaking his head. "We don't have a single piker to our names."

Myron had to hold back from swearing. "Wonderful," he settled for saying. Without that money, they couldn't afford more supplies. He supposed they could try to find work doing labor in and around Kelshir, although earning enough to afford what they needed might take too long.

It was moments like these that made Myron regret his upbringing. He'd been taught little beyond wielding a blade and leading other men. With his father's title abandoned, the latter was of almost no use, while the former hardly lent itself to putting coin in his hands. At least, not without swearing allegiance to a different lord, and doing that was the last thing they could afford to do.

Edeline was hardly better off, and Hamond's own skills weren't entirely ideal either. That just left...

"Got some people coming," Nela called out, right as Myron looked in her direction.

Myron immediately dropped one hand to the hilt of his sword, then paused as they came into view. There were three of them, all clearly peasants from Verdan. Between an older man and a woman, supported by their shoulders, was a man in bloodstained clothes, injured.

"We're not...going to hurt you," the woman managed to say between gasps. She seemed stout enough that the wounded man ought to not be that heavy a burden. Then again, she was...oh. She was with child, far enough along that it was visible.

Myron let go of his weapon, moving over towards them. "Take a seat," he said, reaching to take over holding up the man.

"Who are you?" The man's words were slurred, the effects of the bleeding clear. He needed a healer, and soon.

"Nela," Myron said, knowing she'd understand. As much as a risk it posed to their secrecy, he was not about to let an innocent man die to protect it. Even if he said otherwise, Nela would have ignored him anyway and healed the man regardless.

"Got it. Get him down near the fire." Nela was there, swift as a falcon.

Bending slightly down, Myron took over supporting the man from the woman, as Nela did the same on the other side. Of course, that meant Myron was bearing the most of the man's weight. The pair walked him over, then lowered him until he lay on his back.

Nela began immediately pulling away the man's tunic. "Shoulder wound," she remarked to no one in particular. "Hopefully this isn't going to mess with his arm. Can you get me what's left of my other tunic and some water?"

Hamond, choosing to remain silent, pulled out the crumbled torn tunic and a waterskin from the bag and tossed it over. Myron caught it, then handed it down to Nela. She immediately ripped a piece off, wet it, then started wiping at the wound with the rag.

"What is she doing?" The older man stomped over, staring down at Nela.

"She's a healer." There was no point in trying to hide what she was doing, Myron knew.

"Elves don't have healers," the man replied, "What are you trying to pull here?"

Myron stopped, confused. Of course the elves had healers. The Elefae needed them for the First Ascension, or otherwise there would be no more elves after a hexty years. He'd met Nela's grandfather, who had trained her. What exactly was this man thinking?

"Pegnummus," Nela spoke, one hand braced against the man's wound. A faint glow appeared for a moment, indicating the spell was working. Nela pulled her hand back, waited for a bit, then pressed it against the wound again. "Panakeia logos."

When she lifted her hand again, there was barely any sign the man had been injured at all, aside from the bloodstains on their clothing.

"You...thank you," the man said, giving Nela an appreciative smile.

"Thank me after you rest. With the blood lost, you'll need a day or so." Nela stood up, turning. "Now, what was that shit about the elves not having healers?"

The older man's face was reddening with embarrassment. "Sorry. It's just..." He looked around, as if he expected new attackers to emerge.

"Just what?" Nela crossed her arms.

"Elves are forbidden from using magic." The man's voice dropped. "On pain of death."

Myron was stunned. "On whose orders?" If the king had ordered it, his father would've have no choice but to carry it out. Or had Lord Hallowscroft, trying to repay the debt he owed Morgivel, kept the man's continued existence a secret? So much had been hidden from him and Edeline, and Myron couldn't be certain either way.

The man shrugged, seeming to age further in front of them. "Lord Kelshir I think, though I wouldn't be surprised if someone above him handed the order down. Whoever did it doesn't matter though. If they know she's out here casting spells of any kind, they'll be aiming to see her dead."

"Since the knights were already trying to kill all of us, I don't think that changes much," Hamond said.

That got a bitter laugh in response. "Got a point there. Anyway, name's Kalias. That there's my brother's son, Galian, and his wife, Caroletta."

"Greetings," Caroletta added quietly with a nod.

"I'm Myron." His first name wouldn't give anything away, that much he was sure of.

"Nela." Trotting over to pick up her crossbow, Nela gave the area one more survey, then moved over to stand beside Caroletta. "And this is Jelinia, I guess."

Kalias's eyes narrowed at the sight of Jelinia. He likely recognized the girl, but didn't say anything. Caroletta didn't show any such signs, while Galian was instead focused on Caroletta.

"My name's Hamond." Hamond looked over in the direction of Edeline. Sure enough, Myron realized, his sister was lost in slumber. He supposed it was for the best that they held off on introducing her until later.

"You from the north?" Kalias asked.

"In a sense, I suppose. My father and mother were." Myron could tell Hamond was choosing his words with careful measure, and really did not want to talk about that topic right now.

A friendly interruption was called for. "What even happened back there? Why did those knights attack Verdan?"

"Can't say for sure." Kalias scowled. "But I bet good pikers it was Lord Kelshir who ordered it."

"You don't know that," Caroletta protested.

"You have any better ideas? You know what he did already."

"What did he do?" This would reveal they weren't from Verdan, but Myron figured they already knew that. In a village that small, everyone had to know everyone else.

"You're a soldier, right?" Kalias gestured at Myron's sword.

"I did fight for Hyarch, yes." Lying about it would just be foolish now.

"Thought so. Well, don't think you owe them any loyalty, because men like Lord Kelshir will give you none."

Myron just nodded, waiting for the full explanation.

"Some years back, the lord decided he wanted to kick all the elves out of Kelshir's walls. Every single one, losing their homes without doing a thing to deserve it. They all built back up, to the south of the city."

A look at Nela told Myron she was gritting her teeth.

"Wasn't enough for Lord Kelshir, no. He had to kick dirt in the wound. So he had the south gate of Kelshir sealed up. Wanted to make them walk halfway around the city walls just to get in."

"I think I see the problem," Hamond noted.

"Yes. That was the gate we used to bring our grain and such to Kelshir. Because of where we are, closing it added a half day to the trip up there. And that's a little more stuff that spoiled. A little less coin coming in. And that's not the worst of it, because then he raised the gate tax too. Probably again to keep the elves out, but, you know."

A gate tax? Aether...right after they had every coin stolen. Myron wanted to hit himself. He should have thought of that earlier.

"So we couldn't really afford to go into Kelshir, but we could sell or trade to the elves without any of that. And they were willing to make deals, so it worked out for both of us. At least, until Lord Kelshir got word of it."

"I take it that was when he sent that Lord Verdan in."

"So you did run into him." Kalias shook his head, before his gaze fell on Jelinia. "Guessed as much since you're running around with his girl."

"He had a daughter?" Caroletta spoke up, eyes wide.

"Told you that you didn't pay enough attention, didn't I?" Kalias let out a sigh. "Anyway, you're right. He sent that man, who told us we had to stop selling to the elves or else, and you saw the result."

"If it means anything, he's dead now." It was a lot for Myron to take in. Spiting this village repeatedly just to get at the elves...why? What reason could there be for that?

"A little too late," Kalias said in a dry voice.

Looking in the direction of Verdan, where a couple of faint hazy trails of smoke could still be seen rising, Myron could not argue. "So you think the Aetheric Knights being sent here were more of the same?"

"Aetheric Knights?" Galian sat up, looking lost. "What, is there more than one type of knights or something?

"There are a number of different knightly orders in Hyarch." Myron thought back to his father's lessons. "The Aetheric Knights are the armed branch of the Aetheric Order."

"You seem to know a bit about these," Kalias remarked, "Were you one of them?"

Myron did his best to keep a straight face. He'd given away too much. "I did serve under a lord who was part of the Royal Knights of Hyarch," he said quickly. A true statement, even if it left out that he had been one of those knights.

"Fair enough." The older man turned away to Hamond. "So, you making the meal?"

"Yes," Hamond answered, not looking up from the bag he'd been sorting through again. "Don't expect too much."

"Well, if we're where we think we are, there should be a farm just over that way." Kalias pointed. "If they're still there, maybe you can talk them into giving you some extra food. If not, well..." He shrugged.

Myron hoped the farmer, or their family, hadn't fled. He wasn't sure he wanted to steal from someone, but he had to admit any food they'd left behind would go to waste otherwise. "I can go look," he offered.

"No," Hamond objected, "You need to stay here to protect everyone. I'll go."

Right. If Hamond had his spells, he'd be safe enough on his own, being able to freely use them. Nela would be needed here as well for additional healing, and Edeline...was still asleep. "Understood," Myron said. "Be careful."

"I won't be long." With that, Hamond headed off towards this supposed farm. If it wasn't there, then yes, Myron supposed it would not take much time at all. They could make do regardless.

Turning back to tend to the campfire, Myron froze, realizing what he was seeing.

More people were emerging in the distance, more villagers of Verdan fleeing the slaughter. And they were coming this way.

Forget that last thought. Hamond had better find a lot more food, or they had a problem. A big problem.