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Synopsis:
The faraway kingdom of Decatus has been amassing black powder for the creation of a mysterious superweapon known as the Titanblade. It is up to the Ochreds - a team of men and women picked by the king of Fortis Friar to act as his personal task force - to unravel Decatus' schemes. As they brave a world full of bandits, killers and giant creatures known as Colossi, the Ochreds will begin to realize that there is a blurred line between man and monster.
___

“He first came to Fortis Friar a stranger. A ruffled, confident young boy who wielded a longbow with remarkable ease and proficiency. While the rest of the audience would be stunned into silence with each arrow he fired into the centre of the board, King Donovian glimpsed a future beyond one of showmanship. Who would have known that this ruffian would wander into the ranks of our society again as a spectacular Ochred?”

- excerpt from an unknown volume of the Fortis Friar archives, written by Emanuel Whitt.

Guided by nothing but the dim lamps that hung from the walls, the Ochreds resumed their travelling for the next half of the day. It was a stark contrast from the scenery in Lorchae; trees had been replaced by stalagmites and sunlight no longer leavened the air. The caves were damp and chilly, making for a physically unpleasant environment for the Ochreds to be in. It was still preferable, however, over having to sustain an unwavering guard against any external threats.

“The mayor told me that many traders have sought these tunnels as of late,” Tagert explained to the Cobins, who were leading the convoy with him, “after fall, it gives them safe passage not just to outer Gallenvast, but settlements to the east and west like Vargoth or Grane. While any other man of power would have raised the prices for using these caves, the mayor lowered them instead.”

“No wonder the Vumos attacked us,” Maria mused, “it must have been out of desperation.”

“Aye. We ride beneath their hunting grounds as we speak. The Vumos had attempted to take over Lumen Falls once. The mayor said the battle had been a stalemate until the timely arrival of a Colossal by the name of Rastro. He wore the skull of Dius Lazlos as well. Huh! Perhaps King Donovian’s trust in Wavemaker is not entirely misplaced.”

The three Ochreds briefly glanced back towards Kurtis, who had been blankly staring at them from the wagon’s jockey seat. Upon suddenly having three pairs of eyes looking in his direction, the Colossal cast his eyes down in embarrassment. He was not actually close enough to eavesdrop into their conversation, but had been wondering about the history that had brought them together. An indescribable sense of mutual comfort and trust was shared between all the Ochreds, especially so among the seniors such as the Cobins, Tagert and Hale. Kurtis secretly yearned to understand how they could subtly enjoy one another’s company whilst keeping most of their exchanges professional.

“Would you tell me more about the Ochreds?” Kurtis asked over his shoulder while nudging Finnick with his tail. Japhet had fallen asleep and Kurtis figured it would be a good time to entertain her brother, who had been struggling to read in the dark.

“Hmm? Why, which of us makes you curious?”

“Who has been an Ochred for the longest?”

“I believe it’s a tie between the Cobins. Bartlet served as the King’s first knight for ten years, and Maria has been Fortis Friar’s high commander for the same length of time. They had actually contended for the position of high commander, and became married shortly after a decisive duel for the role.”

“Mrs Cobin took her husband in a duel?” Kurtis was amused.

“Do not be so surprised! Maria is the product of discipline and an unparalleled desire to break the mold. She retired after Tagert rose through the Valorous Guards and garnered enough experience of his own. Once he succeeded Mrs Cobin, she was made an Ochred along with her husband. People questioned these changes – King Donovian had only just taken over the throne back then. I do believe the arrangement was working well, or at least it was when I arrived from Winterfell with my sister.”

“…what about Hale?”

“Ooh. Here’s an individual whose past is not worth probing,” Finnick said in a hushed voice, even though Hale would not have heard him at his usual volume, “she used to be a notorious assassin of the Lupos Orichon. She became an Ochred shortly before Tagert, but that is all I know. You are better off asking Mrs Cobin, should your curiosity overwhelm your other priorities.”

“And the twin brothers? You seem close to Edward.”

“I rather much prefer Edmund. Edward often tries to make me do things I do not wish to do, under the premise of ‘expanding my horizons’. Drivel, I say.”

“An example?”

“Drinking,” Finnick replied disgustedly, “such an uncouth pastime. Nothing good ever comes out of drinking. Did you know Edmund indulges in poetry and painting? When he was still a humble bowman atop the watchtower, he would sketch the sights that surround him. I have seen the drawings before – very impressive pieces.”

On the subject of the Lugos, Kurtis remembered that he and Edward had departed from Lumen Falls on somewhat sour terms. If anything, he felt like he was beginning to understand each Ochred a little better: why some made their displeasure around him more explicit, and why others were more inclined to be neutral. Still, the Colossal felt that there was only so much he could squeeze out of Finnick when it came to the senior Ochreds - he was itching to know what more lay beneath their years of experience in a profession that could have easily killed them every other waking hour.

When Kurtis looked ahead at Tagert and the Cobins, he saw that they were slowing to a stop. The convoy came to a halt before an intersection of branching paths. Beside the opening to each path, there was a mouldy wooden sign bearing distinct symbols in paint - these symbols corresponded to the ones written on the map of the caves held by Tagert.

“How now, navigator?” Bartlet asked, “which path do we take this time?”


“The path on the right brings us to the surface, but we will have to then travel across Gallenvast until nightfall and more,” replied Tagert, “the one on the left goes deeper - when we resurface, we will already be less than half a day until Baldrou.”

“The prospect of fresh air is enticing,” said Maria, “are we not far enough from the Vumos’ grounds?”

“Perhaps… but I rather not pit our luck against the elements. Should misfortune strike us once more on these open grounds, we will have a difficult time seeking means to replenish losses,” Tagert motioned to the rest of the Ochreds, “steady yourselves! We will be underground for longer.”

“I am very much prepared to cultivate fungi on my clothes by the time we are out of the caves,” Finnick grumbled as the Ochreds started moving again, “were you a cave-dweller, Kurtis? How did you hide from the world back then?”

“Lubeck and I slept atop mountains,” Kurtis replied, “in Colossal form, we were impervious to the cold. I admit with much shame to the crime of having decimated a few mountaintop settlements; we never saw them to be any more than nuisances-”

Kurtis paused as the tunnels quaked. The tremor was felt by every Ochred, and it had been strong enough to dislodge the thinner stalactites from the roof of the cavern they were in. The vibrations had originated from the space to the left, from beyond the arching walls of stone. The convoy naturally stopped at the unexpected disturbance and sifted through whatever possible causes came to mind in quiet panic.

The cave shook again. This time, the wall to the side moved.

“Stay very still!” Finnick poked his head out from the wagon and hissed. Tagert looked to him expecting an answer as to what they were in the presence of, and Finnick caught the unspoken question from his panicked expression.

“The Tunneler of the Plains! The Colossal Alleudo!”

The very mention of its name drained the blood from the Lugos’ faces, and had even Hale evince worry through her eyes. Although the Ochreds trusted Finnick’s knowledge of the lands and its diverse inhabitants, this was one instance in which everyone wished he was wrong.

“But we have passed the plains! And Alleudo has not been sighted in years! Are you certain?” Tagert asked, just to be doubly sure. The confirmation came in the form of another tremor, this time triple in its intensity. Alleudo was writhing about in its wake and had started causing the cave to come apart.

“We must go! Now!” Tagert yelled and signalled for a U-turn, “back to where we branched off!”.

The Ochred convoy took off at full speed and charged down the lit path, with the Cobins on their warhounds surging ahead of the troop. Loose chunks of gravel rained from above and dust clouded the immediate frontage of the convoy, making their escape all the more hectic and disorienting.

As the walls gave in and nipped at the last horses, Bartlet led the Ochreds around a sharp turn and onto a rising slope. They carved a safe path for the rest of the Ochreds, all the way up to the exit of the caves.

Kurtis only allowed himself to slacken his grip on the reins ever so slightly once the wagon was outside in the scorching sun, far from the dangers of being crushed by stone. Being someone who had barely any experience riding horses, let alone manoeuvring two of them through an ever-shrinking tunnel, he had been petrified into absolute stiffness of the limbs. It had been a while since he had to so closely review his own mortality. Even as he rode across the tranquil grass plains, however, he could feel that Alleudo was not quite done with the Ochreds.

Just behind Kurtis and the wagon, towering spikes exploded from the ground in a shower of dirt and sand. One after another, they erupted from different spots, signifying the sheer size of the Colossal. The top of Alleduo’s worm-like body emerged as well, and it was then the Ochreds realized the monstrosity was not attempting to pursue them – it was already underneath the convoy.

“To the sides!”

Kurtis felt a surge in the strength of the tremors beneath the wagon, and his instincts told him that the wagon lacked the agility the other Ochreds' rides had.

“Maria! Ready yourself!”

Without thinking twice, he unceremoniously dragged Finnick out of the back and threw him to the left, where Maria and her Warhound were. He stooped into the wagon once again and proceeded to do the same to a frantic Japhet. Though she had initially struggled out of confusion, Japhet ended up being received by Bartlet, who had been expecting the maneuver ever since he saw Kurtis reach for Finnick. Once both of the wagon’s occupants were gone, Kurtis jumped onto the cover roof and steadied his nerves for a leap of faith.

In one moment, he was staring out towards a beautiful, azure sky. In the next, all he saw was darkness.

The wagon lurched backwards and Kurtis was flung off from it. As he flailed about blindly, his claws managed to dig themselves into a disgustingly fleshy surface. Kurtis gripped tightly while his frenzied mind tried to identify which way was down, and it took a while before he was finally calm enough to make sense of his surroundings with whatever cues there were.

Kurtis was in the Colossal Alleudo’s mouth. He had been swallowed whole in the blink of an eye, but was fortunate enough to latch himself onto the monster’s gums. The same, however, could not be said for the two horses that lead the wagon he was on. They were long gone in the abyss that lay beyond Alleudo’s gullet. Amidst their waning neighs, Kurtis also heard Edward’s voice echo within the Colossal’s maw.

“Edmund! Hang on!”

On the opposite end of Alleudo’s jaws, two figures could be seen dangling in similar fashion to Kurtis. Using his short sword, Edward had driven an anchor into the Colossal’s flesh; his free hand clung desperately onto his brother’s right leg.

“Edmund! You have to reach up! My grip-”

“I can’t! I’ve broken my arm, Edward! I can’t feel my arm!”

Kurtis felt helpless as he watched the Lugo brothers swing about with Alleudo’s movements. The pain that he felt in his arms must have been nothing compared to what Edward was enduring – he was grimacing as if he were going to be torn in half at any moment.

Not leaving the Ochreds’ fates to chance, Kurtis began scaling around the Colossal’s inner gums. It was a long climb to Edward’s position, but now was not the time to be daunted by such matters. The finer details of their escape could be settled later.

Alleudo suddenly swung to the side and the momentum tore Kurtis off the flesh wall. He tumbled along the Colossal’s lower jaw and came to a sharp halt beneath his starting position, albeit upside down. Kurtis now had his back against one of Alleudo’s giant teeth, hanging by the ridges on his tail, which had lodged itself in some crevice. He was unable to regain any form of footing – tried as he might, his claws could only scratch the tooth he dangled against.

Right where I want to be, Kurtis attempted to humour himself so as not to delve into full-blown panic. He could still think clearly enough to hold on to the skull he wore, just to make sure it did not dislodge itself. From his new position, however, a different angle had opened up to him: Kurtis could see that above Edward, on the roof of Alleudo’s mouth, was a softly glowing sigil the size of a large plate. He recognized it as the same type of mark that was on the late Lubeck’s chest.

…I am where I want to be!

“Edward!” Kurtis’ voice bounced about the walls of Alleudo’s mouth to reach the surprised Lugos, “Edward! Do you see the sigil above your head?”

“…I do! Why?”

“Use your crossbow! Shoot it! Trust me and shoot it!”

“What-?”

Edward grunted loudly as the Alleudo shook again. He felt his shoulder almost dislocate itself as he and Edmund were left to the mercy of gravity again.

“Edward!” Kurtis plead, “before Alleudo moves again-”

“How? What would you have me do? I can’t-!”

“Edward,” this time it was his brother speaking, “unsling your crossbow. You can hit the sigil.”

“But my hand-”

“You need to let me go,” Edmund said with surprising calmness. Edward, however, only grew more exasperated.

“You are mad!”

“You have to let me go, brother, lest both of us fall,” Edmund began tearing up but maintained his composure, “I need you to live. I need Kurtis to live. You cannot shun this chance - Alleudo might stir once more.”

“Edmund, no! You expect me to live on without you? In this quest? The Ochreds-”

“They will understand. You can do it, Edward.”

“I rather die with you!” Edward cried: “especially not after what we did in Lumen Falls-”

“Then this is your time to own up to your mistakes and move on!” Edmund finally flared up in a mixture of sadness and anger, “let me go!”

“First, Kain-”

“This is not the same as what happened in Lumen Falls, Edward. You know that.”

Edward kept shaking his head, unable to muster a rebuttal this time.

“Please, Edward. Let me go. I will die with my sins, and I am sorry that you must bear them for me. But you are strong now, strong enough to face your failures. This is where you can rewrite your story.”

“Stop speaking as if only you are at fault!” Edward screamed, “they will see me as a monster-”

“Costly trials you will endure, only to emerge stronger.”

“Edmund-!”

“Know that I love you, Edward. Always have.”

Edmund used his free foot to lash out at the hand that held his other ankle. Edward lost his grip on his brother out of shock more than pain, and screamed for Edmund as he disappeared into the darkness below.

“No! No! Edmund-!”

“Edward! The sigil!” Kurtis panicked as he felt Alleudo gradually twisted its body. A sudden lurch was imminent, and nothing guaranteed that Edward would remain in his current position.

“Shoot the sigil, Edward!”

“Damn you to hell, Colossal!” Edward roared. He shouldered his crossbow and fired all three bolts into the black mark as instructed, cueing Alleudo to bellow in agony. Sunlight poured into the fleshy cavern and a distant rumble from the depths of Alleudo worried Kurtis. Without warning, a massive gale tore Kurtis and Edward from their spots and flung them back out into the fields. The two of them flew through the air for a few seconds before tumbling across the dirt. While they writhed about on the ground in pain, Alleudo disappeared back into the depths in a dense fog of loose soil. For once, the plains were still and void of the slightest of vibrations.

Kurtis got up to see Edward on his knees. He was beating the ground in futility, repeatedly crying for his brother and desperately hoping that he would miraculously appear from the horizon. In the face of such a display of sorrow of pain, the Colossal was at a loss on how to react or remedy Edward’s plight.

Edmund Lugo was dead and gone from this world.

“Edward! Kurtis!” Bartlet rode into the scene with Japhet sitting closely behind him. He immediately saw that something was amiss and looked at Kurtis pitifully. In a soft voice, he asked:

“Edmund..?”

Japhet let out a muffled cry as Kurtis shook his head solemnly. The rest of the Ochreds caught up eventually and they all let Edward mourn in peace. Not even Tagert, who had initially looked impatient to resume their journey, found the heart to break the silence. To everyone’s surprise, Edward was the first to speak out an agonizing bout of silence.

“My brother is dead,” he breathed, slowly turning his head towards Kurtis, “my brother is dead…because of you!”

“Pardon?”

“You called the monster upon us, did you not?” Edward asked angrily. He strode over to Kurtis and grabbed at his collar.

“Tell me you schemed with that Colossal! Tell me the truth, you cur! You wretched fiend! You abused our trust! You took us for fools! Did you not? Confess!”

Kurtis knew that if Edward really did believe in his accusations, he would have drawn his weapon by now and either shot or stabbed him. Somehow, he could empathize with the youth’s need to believe Edmund’s demise was not a result of sheer bad luck. Kurtis neither said nor did anything as Edward continued raining blows of the fist and hurling curses at him. Fortunately, Tagert was quick to step forward and drag Edward off in a firm yet unaggressive manner.

“No more, Edward-”

“We lost Edmund! These Colossi-”

“If you must pin blame, do so on me,” said Tagert, choking on withheld tears, “I led us down the cursed path, Edward. I chose poorly.”

“What? How can you say such things? All to defend Kurtis? Nothing warned us of Alleudo.”

“Then you know Kurtis was no wiser than everyone else. The fault of ignorance lies with me, as the leader of this troop. We will henceforth leave it so.”

Exhausted of his voice, Edward simply crumbled into Tagert’s arms and continued crying faintly.

“Prithee, Edward, rest your mind for now. Take my horse with Hale - I can walk,” Tagert then turned to Kurtis and asked, “how goes you? Are you hurt? Perhaps you can swap with Japhet or Finnick-”

“Nothing seems broken,” Kurtis replied, “I can walk as well.”

“I would like to check on you and Edward once we harbor tonight, but for now, we ought to start moving again, just in case,” said Maria, “the rest of us can take turns on the rides. Go as far as we can before nightfall.”

The Ochreds departed with a solemn murmur of agreement. So much had happened, yet in so little time. As disheartening as it was for the Ochreds, the day was far from over. They were to travel once again through dangerous lands, albeit with one less pair of eyes watching the surroundings.

___
“Avoid the marshes to the west of Gallenvast, or any other settlements in its vicinity. The Cordos’ expansions have yet to be accurately tracked.”

- a footnote written on the bottom of a world map, which had been charted and owned by Ochred Rivahl Atherton

When Vera first presented the crutches to Kurtis, he had violently refused and attempted to crawl out of bed without any form of support. It did not take long, however, for the Colossal to swallow his objections and relent to Vera’s persistence. He could barely support the weight of his upper body and his legs hurt unless they were ramrod straight. In one morning, Kurtis grew to be both grateful and spiteful of the wooden crutches; to him, it was a symbol of weakness, a common tool for discharged knights, ill peasants and old folk. Now he depended upon it, as if there was never a time he could soar over the skies freely.

Once Kurtis became accustomed to hobbling around, Vera took him outside and for the first time, he saw what life lay beyond the walls of the house. The Dius Lazlos was actually a huge tribal community; they occupied the entirety of a small valley, wedged between hills on which a multitude of stone paths had been carved into. All the huts looked roughly the same, differing only in the murals that decorated the exterior. Some of them were obvious shops, with open doors that led into brightly lit rooms packed with trinkets and goods. A few of the larger ones served as meditation centres, with the grandest of them being the tribe’s main meeting hall, as well as the Chieftain’s residence. Vera’s home was not too far from it, and it sat in a ring of eight other huts. In the middle of this ring lay the blackened remains of a bonfire; aged logs encircling it hinted at the countless nights the villagers spent meeting up, celebrating and debating over the warmth of the flames.

“I like not how they stare at me,” Kurtis spoke regarding all the tribesmen and tribeswomen who were in the vicinity. Vera, who had been hoping for some other comment from him upon seeing the Dius Lazlos proper, sighed heavily.

“I know not your issue. None of them are fearful of you. Their eyes are void of contempt.”

When Kurtis remained silent, it occurred to Vera that no one probably looked at him as anything but an adversity before.

“You said this tribe is about rebirth, Vera. What of rebirth? What is it that all of you do?”

“No one is born into the Dius Lazlos, Kurtis. Men and women from all over the world come in search of redemption. We accept all, regardless of the weight of their sins. For the most of us, we seek the simplest forms of solace, comfort, tranquillity and consolation. To be far from politics, lords, kings and queens; to be at peace with nature and to be ready to embrace the darkness that is death by seeking meaning in every passing day. We are eager to kill the worst of ourselves and thereby be reborn.”

“Had I not been in your care, I would have called you and your purposes foolish. Though you still seem mad enough to tend to me.”

“You may only call me mad, or a fool, should you choose to return to your ways upon recovery.”

“What else would you have me do? Be reborn?” Kurtis asked rather sarcastically. The resoluteness in Vera’s eyes, however, convinced him that she was serious about the prospect of “rebirth”.

“Let me take you around the back,” Vera took Kurtis by the arm and guided him around the hut. Though her backyard was no larger than the main room in her home, it was packed with vegetable crops of all kinds. There was a certain neatness in the cramped layout, and Vera had even taken the effort to add birdhouses and miniature figurines as decorations.

“I carve as a hobby,” she explained upon catching Kurtis staring at one of the wooden figures. It was that of a girl holding a basket with both of her hands, tucked away under the leaves of a tomato plant.

“Quaint,” muttered Kurtis half-heartedly. He eased himself onto a set of stone steps that led into the back of the house while Vera began wandering through the mini garden. She inspected each patch of crop with dedicated scrutiny, and only picked at the yield once fully confident that it was ready. Vera momentarily disappeared from view as she pulled potatoes from the ground; when she returned to Kurtis with her harvest, he only snorted in mockery.

“All that effort, and you get this?” Kurtis asked, pointing at the puny potatoes that Vera held, “that is hardly worth getting your hands dirty over.”

“For a first attempt, I am surprised that they could even grow. I believe I have yet to perfect the mixture of soil, or arrangement of these potato plants.”

“Even still, they will only double in size at most. As I said, it is not worth the sweat of your brow.”

“Perhaps you can keep that in mind next time before torching a farm into ash,” Vera quipped. She turned back to her crops and left Kurtis to seethe in silence. Once he grew wise enough to never again poke fun at Vera’s works, the Colossal decided to ask about more important matters pertaining to his future.

“What lies on the path to rebirth, Vera?”

“Trials are prepared for those who wish to redeem themselves, and conquering them will grant you your very own Skull. The Skull of Dius Lazlos is recognized across the lands, and its prestige is upheld by those who already possess it.”

“So if I get myself one-”

“You have to earn it,” Vera corrected him.

“If I earn myself one, I can leave the tribe for good?”

“You may depart without it, but you will be left to the mercy of society. And if you do not mind me asking…”

Vera returned with another batch of vegetables and looked triumphant after having amassed enough for a meal or two. She quickly pushed her harvest aside and sat herself next to the Colossal.

“…you never did tell me how you ended up in such a state.”

Kurtis gulped and felt an invisible blockade welling up in his throat. Tapping into that specific part of his memory always proved to be mind-numbing and painful.

“Who finally stood against you?” Vera prompted again. Kurtis felt ambivalent towards her unusual attempt at getting him to open up.

“The prince of Fortis Friar,” he replied grimly, “with a magical bow. I was laying siege upon his kingdom.”

“Why would you even do such a thing?”

“It humours me so,” Kurtis replied curtly, completely swerving around the fact that Lubeck had a hand in deciding to attack the kingdom. The thoughtlessness in his answer drew looks of disappointment from Vera.

“You find joy and thrill in destruction, because you know not of the time and labour needed for creation. How…reckless. You have much to atone for – did you not wish for something other than calamity? Not even once?”

“No. Why would I wish for anything but calamity upon those who spite my being?” Kurtis was growing increasingly agitated, “and what of you? What do you hope to achieve here? You do not strike me as someone simply looking to escape society. Is there a reason you are my caretaker?”

“I-” Vera was at a sudden loss for words and she was shocked by her own falter, “I need a moment.”

Kurtis was more than happy to be free from Vera’s excessive pressuring, but he could not help but wonder about her abrupt withdrawal as well. She had disappeared back into her house, wearing the same lost stare that Kurtis would occasionally catch her with when she was unoccupied. Kurtis was no fool – he knew that the strange woman spent the nights talking to herself sorrowfully, and that her snarky replies were more of a defensive mechanism than a result of her personality.

Was she going to cry in my face? Or scream? Why does she wear two faces?

After a while, it occurred to the Colossal that Vera was not returning any time soon. Kurtis decided to hop back onto his crutches and stretch his legs a little more by touring the rear perimeter of Vera’s home. A dense forest lay beyond her garden, but there was also a clear path between the trees.

“Hmm.”

Inching slowly down the hardened mud, Kurtis eventually got a clearer line of sight along the mysterious route. He could see that it went up onto a small ridge and disappeared down the other side of the slope. Given the layout of the Dius Lazlos as described by Vera, Kurtis deduced that this path served no other purpose but as an exit.

I don’t need to be fully well to escape. This path is well-wornand easy to follow…

“Kurtis!”

Vera’s voice almost scared Kurtis off his crutches. She had reappeared at the backdoor of her hut, with subtle hints of flustering across her face. Despite everything, she still managed a small smile.

“Lunch has been made.”

---

It was only the second day into their quest and the Ochreds were already on their last legs. Even though they rotated among themselves when it came to who got to be on horseback, the combined effects of sweltering heat and diminishing morale got the better of their resolve. The wagon had perished with the majority of their water and food supply, and the Ochreds were weighed down more by their bleak prospects than their current plight.

In order to lighten their loads, Tagert had initially proposed the idea of discarding their winter gear and half of their remaining food, in hopes of repurchasing them closer to Winterfell. It was a tough call to make, one that was received with mixed responses. The matter was unexpectedly resolved by Kurtis, who bundled all the excess weight into one bag and carried on walking with it over his shoulders. He was the only one who showed minimal signs of fatigue, and displayed remarkable endurance by consistently remaining energetic when approached for small talk. At one juncture, he had explained how he was conditioned to bear such loads over long distances.

“I carried a home wherever I went. The Skull of Dius Lazlos was of little help when it came to earning favors from innkeepers.”

Eventually, the Ochreds were once again in closed terrain. According to Tagert, another two days’ worth of travel was necessary in order to arrive at their next destination – the portside town of Baldrou. They could, of course, take detours but the possibility of getting lost was made even more terrifying on low food and water. The clearest path was to Baldrou, and the Ochreds had agreed upon heading there without meandering about.

By dusk, the Ochreds were well within the forest, and not a trace of the plains could be seen through the trees. It was then Kurtis suddenly drew his sword, startling the convoy into thinking another battle was imminent.

“Water vines,” Kurtis explained, pointing towards strange, rope-like entities that hung from the trees.

“See that moss grows upon the bark-like exterior? This vine is rich with water.”

Kurtis made a clean, diagonal cut and held the open vine over his water flask. Sure enough, water ran out of it like a tap.

“In my weariness, I failed to notice them. Your mind and eyes are sharp,” Maria hopped off her horse and joined him in extracting water from the plants. The rest of the Ochreds thirstily reached for their own bottles and started hacking at the nearest vines as well.

“Is this safe for consumption?” Tagert asked. He saw that Maria had already drunk half a flask’s worth of her newfound water.

“So long as it is not sappy. Avoid the redder vines,” she replied, “where’s Finnick? Finnick! Put your head to use and look out for edible plants, or medicinal herbs! Did you not tell me it was one of your expertise?”

“It is the hour to harbour,” Bartlet said softly to Tagert, who had been blissfully enjoying his drink. He had momentarily shut his senses off to the surroundings and realized only now that the sunlight was dying out over the horizon. It was always best to set up camp while there was still light, so as to source out the safest area to sleep in – one without deadfall, nests of any sorts or other peculiarities.

“I thank you for that reminder. Now let us see- hmm? Bartlet, beyond those trees, do you not spy a settlement?”

Bartlet squinted his eyes towards the direction Tagert was pointing at and saw the vague glows of candlelight. It seemed that some small town was preparing for the night.

“I do, Tagert, though no towns nor villages lie in our path. Must be new.”

“All the more they should welcome commerce!” Tagert hurriedly addressed the Ochreds: “There is a settlement up ahead! Let us seek harbour there!”

As it turned out, Bartlet was correct. The town that Tagert had laid eyes upon was called Eil, and it had only recently begun establishing itself proper within the forest. Currently, it was half the size of Lumen Falls, with most of its structures still under construction. Heaps of stone blocks and plywood lay at every corner of Eil, and hinted at ambitious projects the townsfolk intended to see through. Most of the completed buildings were at least three storeys in height, and it was evident that Eil was more focused on expanding vertically.

The Ochreds were also fortunate enough to have a good number of shops open for business. Soon, they were almost in the same state they had started off with – a new wagon, another two horses and a thorough restocking of essentials gave them the reassurance that they could travel on for many more days to come. Now, there was one less nagging doubt in their minds.

As night fell, the Ochreds found themselves tucked away in the shadows of Eil’s many side streets. Upon finalizing their site for harbour, Edward had been the first person to wordlessly go to sleep, followed by Japhet. The two of them had been uncharacteristically silent ever since Edmund’s demise; naturally, this concerned everyone in the party.

“Facing loss is unavoidable in this line of business,” Tagert sighed, “though I never expected tragedy to strike so early.”

Opposite the wall he was sitting against were the Cobins, along with Hale. Though they were all tired, they knew that the matter of Edmund’s death needed to be addressed – its repercussions, even more so.

“Maria, did Edward not seek your counsel back in the woods?”

“Aye. He is very much depressed. You must understand that Edmund was a role model for him – someone to look up to. Now he feels lost, and I sense that he is desperate in seeking repurpose.”

“But he did not become an Ochred for his brother-”

“I had not the opportunity to teach Edward as I had for Edmund. Most of Edward’s values and principles are passed down from his brother. Edward is still young – there is no fault in his mirroring of Edmund’s attitude and thoughts towards being an Ochred, or anything pertaining royal service. He is of many talents, but has yet to substantiate himself.”

“He is Edmund’s brother more than he is the King’s Ochred,” Bartlet agreed.

“It will serve him better to find himself a character speedily,” Hale interjected, “his brooding is most distracting.”

“Hale,” Maria looked at her sadly, “do you not think Edmund deserves some mourning?”

“Edmund was an amazing individual, and we must never forget a man of his competence. He has saved my life on more than one occasion and I am indebted to him. I have yet to repay him, most unfortunately, but I can honour him through his brother. Mourning only does so much, but if we can groom Edward to be twice the man Edmund was, that will do his death some justice.”

“Remember, Edward is young - he knows not how to heave his thoughts from heart to mind as quickly.”

“He ought to learn then.”

“You move along fast, Hale,” Tagert spoke again, “ I too wish to rid my heart of this sorrow, but come the next morning I would still be foolishly hoping that Edmund would return, having survived the encounter with Alleudo.”

“We must consider our capacity for ranged skirmishes now that Edmund is gone, Tagert,” said Hale, “our tactics must change. For now, treat it as though Edward is not fit to fight.”

“If we are on that subject, assume Japhet is not in the right state of mind as well,” added Maria. All three of the senior Ochreds looked at her quizzically and their obliviousness astounded her.

“…did you not know? Do your eyes see? Japhet and Edmund were in love. The two of them were professional enough to repress their interactions when working.”

Bartlet and Tagert continued staring at Maria in disbelief while Hale stifled a groan.

“I will talk to Japhet regarding this matter,” Maria continued, “but I am unsure of the extent to which I can help Edward. In truth, none of us are close enough to him. Hale, Tagert – the two of you have worked with Edmund the most. Approach his memory with caution, and use it however to help Edward back onto his feet.”

“We will see to his recovery,” Tagert affirmed. A muffled laugh from the inside of the wagon distracted him and he immediately grew curious as to what was transpiring within. He excused himself from the group and crept up to the wagon’s rear opening with the intent of stealthily eavesdropping.

“…and so the lady cries for help, but the thief is much too fast,” Tagert recognized Finnick’s voice saying, “of all the people who could help, it was Edmund who fired an arrow from his post and pinned the thief down by the hood of his cloak. Had he simply missed while aiming for the head? Ha! Fortis Friar shall never know.”

Tagert abruptly pulled the cover apart, surprising both Kurtis and Finnick. The two of them were lazily slumped against opposing sides of the wagon, using whatever bags they had to support their backs.

“Tis been a long day. What yakking is taking place? You two ought to be resting”

“I solely confess to the yakking. Kurtis has been a most accommodating listener,” said Finnick, “I merely wanted to…relieve some of Edmund’s admirable feats. I believe Kurtis deserves to know what kind of person he was as well.”

“He was a great Ochred, yes,” Tagert agreed, “but I need the two of you to be well-rested. Tomorrow might be just as trialling and arduous, so might the day after. We have to learn to preserve ourselves for the future.”

“Very true. Have a good rest, Kurtis. I am due for night watch soon anyhow with Edward.”

“Let him sleep for now. I will take his place,” said Tagert, “go to your post - I will see you in a moment.”

As Finnick climbed out of the wagon, Tagert lingered around and made no attempt to hide his desire to question Kurtis on a few matters.

“When we were in the caves,” Tagert began, “did you not sense anything amiss?”

“No,” replied Kurtis, half-expecting a full-blown interrogation to commence, “why?”

“I once heard that Colossi can communicate and read each other’s presence without so much as seeing or hearing one another-”

Kurtis shifted uneasily in his seat.

“-but I guess unchecked rumors truly do little to further how we understand the world around us,” Tagert nodded at the Colossal, “I know not how differently how you see, think and feel, but I want you to know that I will lend you an ear should anything be awry.”

“I appreciate you, Tagert,” said Kurtis, relieved but also pleasantly surprised.

“Sleep well, and remember that you are on the last watch with Maria.”

“Aye. Oh, and Tagert? Thank you for stepping in when Edward… you know.”

“Twas’ nothing, I was just stating matters as they were,” Tagert waved his hand, “Edward meant none of his words - he just needed someone else to tap at his shoulder. Give him time, aye?”

“I understand. Let me at least say: you should not beat yourself over about Edmund, either.”

“...someone has to take responsibility,” sighed Tagert. He left Kurtis without saying any more, and had a good few seconds to collect his thoughts alone while plodding towards the mouth of the alley, where Finnick sat. As the night finally consumed the townt, the two Ochreds commenced their vigilant watch over their sleeping colleagues.

“Finnick,” Tagert whispered, “you are the closest to Kurtis - how does he fare?”

“I am not just close to him. The lot of you are too distant.”

“These eyes have seen too much to relinquish trust so freely,” Tagert chuckled, “but you are right. Kurtis has shown makings for a genuine contributor - I am just unsure of how to further relations with him.”

“What incites progress, Tagert? Curiosity. The way I see it, anyone should be curious enough to know the details of Kurtis’ past, especially his attainment of the Skull. That is the place to start - there is much to learn from him.”

“Has he told you?”

“No,” Finnick grinned, “he wishes to know each of us well first. It is a kind of trade, and we must give credit to him for taking the lead. That was why I was telling him about Edmund.”

“Ah. I see.”

Edmund’s very name was starting to be like a taboo subject for Tagert now. It did not compel him to cry or mourn, but it seized his senses and rendered him vulnerable. It shamed him to think that he would have no memory of Edmund’s final moments, for he had been fixated on his immediate front, desperate to escape from Alleudo.

“Tagert?”

“Hmm?”

“I miss him already.”

“…so do I, Finnick. So do I.”

In the cover of darkness, the two Ochreds finally found the courage to weep.