Author: Derek

What makes the saga of the Heroes resonate so deeply within our spirit? It is, after all, a tale of those who emerged from the periphery, cast aside by society, yet found their destiny intertwined on a grand quest to restore the Crystal Blood. Consider the remarkable assembly of Kurt Volker, his son Rin, and the Madrigal siblings. Volker, once a loyal retainer to the illustrious Lord Ranier, found himself dismissed in the aftermath of the Night of Fire and Blood for taking in an orphaned boy. Yet fate wove its intricate tapestry, bringing Marteen and Ela Madrigal—two of the most celebrated figures of the Reclamation War—to toil on Volker’s farm in the dwarven lands. There, in the quietude of rural life, they formed an unlikely family unit, with Volker assuming the role of a surrogate patriarch. His foster son, Rin, embraced the Madrigals as his own kin, calling them brother and sister. Such a convergence of disparate lives, rising to heroic prominence, defies the conventional bounds of storytelling. As the adage goes, truth possesses a liberty that fiction cannot, for fiction is bound by the constraints of narrative rules. Thus, the Heroes’ saga illuminates the profound journey of transformation and unity, drawing forth the eternal themes that lie at the heart of the elven condition. – Scholar Atti, excerpted from the article, “Examining the Heroes’ Saga”

RIN

Rin finished packing his saddlebags as Kurt covered the remains of the fire. Talking with Kurt dredged up some long-buried pain and anger. He thought hard about what Kurt said. As much as he hated to admit it, Kurt’s explanation made sense. The others could have been overwhelmed by all the craziness after they returned with the princess. Still, none of them noticed what was happening to him? He knew it was possible. He understood how it could happen. Yet, the hurt and anger was still there inside. Rin wasn’t sure what to do, but he was kind of happy talking with Kurt last night.

I guess I did want to know what happened to Kurt, Rin thought. The old dwarf swore as he straightened from burying the fire. He was much as Rin remembered him. For the past ten years, Rin felt betrayed by the man who raised him after his parents were murdered. Kurt should have been the one demanding those elven nobles respect Rin as much as the others. After last night, Rin was forced to face a hard truth. As worldly and wise Kurt always seemed, he was still just a man. A man who made mistakes. With everything happening at the time, Kurt didn’t purposefully push Rin away. He was just unaware. Perhaps the most startling truth of the night was when Rin realized he missed Kurt. Their relationship was nowhere near where it was before Rin left for Marei, but it was starting to heal.

“What’s the plan for today, son?” Kurt asked.

“The barkeep said the elves who met with Smythe sounded like nobles,” Rin said, “Unless things have radically changed in the last ten years, nobles are obligated to visit upon each other when they cross into each other’s lands.”

“This is Lord Valera’s lands. You’re thinking of looking for more information at his keep?” Kurt asked. Rin nodded. “Assuming the elves were nobles, why would they have stopped at Valera’s? Wouldn’t they have wanted to avoid notice?”

“Who do you think buys most of the contraband that comes into Black Cove?” Rin asked in return, “A noble coming to Black Cove to purchase some less-than-legal goods wouldn’t be out of place. A noble avoiding the obligations of nobility? That would draw unwanted attention.”

“It’s just as well. I need to talk with Lord Valera, anyways,” Kurt said.

“Does it have something to do with Marteen?” Rin asked.

“It’s probably better if you find out when we get there,” Kurt said. The two rode in silence for about an hour, but it wasn’t the tense silence from the previous night. It wasn’t the comfortable silences Rin remembered from his days on the farm, but somewhere in between. For the first time in a long time, memories of growing up on the farm didn’t hurt. As Rin rode down the road, he let himself remember the happy times. Particularly after Marteen and Ela came to live with them.

“What happened to the farm?” Rin asked.

“You remember Pieter? He married a girl from Riverrun, I think. They’re keeping it up and running their own flocks. Why do you ask?”

“Just reminiscing. I guess. It’s been a long time since I thought about the farm. I forgot how many happy times I had growing up there.”

“Particularly after you dragged Marteen to the farm and Ela followed a few months later.”

“I didn’t drag Marteen to the farm. He followed me there after that fight with those sheep thieves.”

“Ah, well, that might be true,” Kurt said, “Either way, those years were good for all of us. After what we talked about last night, I wish we could have all gone back there instead of Lisandra. It would have been good for you and Illana…”

“Don’t talk about her,” Rin interrupted.

“Why don’t you want to talk about her, son?” The familiar compassion in the dwarf’s voice stilled Rin’s immediate retort. Rin took a deep, calming breath before he answered.

“It’s like I have this ball of pain every time I hear her name. I can’t do my job with that churning through me.” Kurt studied him for a long moment before returning his gaze back to the dirt road.

“Could you do your old father a favor?”

“What?”

“Could you please explain the fascination your people have with that horrific smelling paste they smear all over bread?” Rin chuckled at the sudden change of subject. It was a relief just to talk about the differences between Mareian food, dwarven food, and the elven food in Lisandra.

After another couple of hours, the sloped walls of Valera Keep rose in the distance. Instead of the brilliantly colored crystal spires of the traditional jewel-spun buildings, Lord Valera’s keep was a star-shaped fortress of stone. It looked almost identical to the massive forts the Kingdom and Republic built along their border. It even had a moat. Rin and Kurt were stopped just as they turned off the main road. Four soldiers stood next to a small shack on the side of the gravel path leading to the keep. Rin handed his small leather portfolio with his credentials to the lead guard as the three other guards kept their halberds at the ready. The green-clad soldier studied the papers and the gold star. Rin took the chance to scan the grounds. Soft mowed grass covered the grounds in a rough circle about a couple hundred meters in diameter without as much as a shrub for cover. There was a wide winding gravel path leading from the main highway to the drawbridge.

“My sergeant needs to review these, sir,” the guard told Rin, “Please wait here.” The guard walked over to the shack and raised a purple signal flag on the shack’s flagpole.

“We could just show him our medallions and be done with it,” Kurt mused, sounding annoyed.

“I don’t think so,” Rin said, “It looks like the lord is expecting an attack. I doubt he’d take kindly to having a pair of Heroes of the Empire forcing their way in, even politely.”

“What do you mean ‘expecting an attack’?” asked Kurt, startled by Rin’s comment.

“The guards on the walls aren’t patrolling in regular intervals,” Rin said, “The guard here is alert and quick to call for assistance even if it might offend two Heroes. How much do you want to bet when their sergeant shows up, it’ll be at the head of a squad of heavy infantry?”

“It doesn’t make sense. Who would attack this keep?”

“Better question, why didn’t you tell me Marteen was here?” Rin asked. Kurt looked slightly abashed.

“Because of why he’s here,” Kurt answered. The dwarf sounded embarrassed and angry. He remembered that tone from the times Kurt marched him to one of the villagers to apologize. Usually after Rin did something stupid. He decided not to press Kurt further. He would find out in due course.

Lord Valera’s soldiers approached from the castle. Rin was right about the heavy infantry, but instead of a squad, an entire platoon of soldiers in glittering mail armor marched to the guardhouse. Green pennants fluttered from the soldiers’ halberds as the two lines moved swiftly down the gravel road. The commander was an elf with the long features and bearings of a noble, or at least noble-born.

“Hero Acciaio, Hero Volker, I am Lieutenant Rinura. Lord Valera welcomes you to his home,” the officer said with a low bow.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Rin said turning back to the elf. “I need to speak with Lord Valera as soon as possible about a matter of some urgency. I believe Hero Volker also has something to discuss with the lord.”

“Of course, Hero Acciaio,” the lieutenant answered. “If you will follow me?” Rin and Kurt followed the lieutenant to the castle. As they neared, Rin was shocked to see shielded gun ports in the castle’s walls. Only the Imperial Army was supposed to have cannon. What crazy smuggler sold an elf lord cannon?

The soldiers escorting them peeled into fighting positions as they entered the main gate. The gate was a seven-meter long, three-meter-high tunnel that went from the drawbridge directly to the main courtyard. From the massive doors and portcullises at each end, Rin guessed any vanguard of an attacking force would be trapped in a killing tunnel. This keep would be a tough nut to crack for a Republican or Kingdom army. What concerned this Lord Valera so much that he built and manned such a fortress?

“Please wait here, Heroes, Lord Valera will be with you presently,” the lieutenant said as they entered the courtyard. The elf dashed through a door on the far side before Rin or Kurt could say anything. Kurt grumbled as he dismounted from his sturdy pony. Rin scanned the edge of the courtyard. At least a dozen crossbowmen stood atop the walls watching them. Was Valera foolish enough to kill two Heroes of the Empire? Rin slid off his horse and placed his hand close to his rifle.

“What under the Protector’s Gaze is going on?” Rin asked Kurt.

“That is what I would like to know,” a deep voice boomed across the courtyard. Kurt looked uneasy at the voice. Rin turned to face the speaker. The elf was tall, easily reaching two hundred and twenty-five centimeters with those long legs every elf seemed to possess. Long and sharply chiseled features were accentuated by shoulder length brown hair hanging loosely. Brown eyes flashed in righteous anger. He wore the traditional flowing breeches, shirt, and cape of a noble. All were in shades of green with heavy gold and silver embroidery. A long rapier was belted at his waist.

“Lord Valera, I presume?”

“The infamous Hero Acciaio. My constables informed me you attacked an innkeeper in my town, and killed two patrons,” Lord Valera said, “Would you care to defend your actions?” Rin just stared at Lord Valera silently for a long moment. The noble’s hands and eyes twitched just a bit too much. His anger was just a bit too forced.

“Elven nobles came through your lands less than a week ago,” Rin said, calmly. “I have good information they left Black Cove with a blond human man. Who were the nobles?” Valera’s eyes grew wide.

“What about my two subjects you slew?” Valera demanded again. Rin studied the lord for a long moment.

“What about them? The barkeep should have cooperated. Instead, he set a couple of his regulars on me. They failed,” Rin answered calmly. “A Black Cove barkeep should know better. He should be grateful I only hurt him and didn’t just kill him like his friends. Now, under the treaty between the Republic of Marei and the Jeweled Empire, you are required to cooperate with my hunt. Who were the nobles?” Valera’s face went pale before visibly composing himself. He smiled insincerely in true noble fashion.

“The innkeeper mentioned your nobles and the human to my retainers when they appeared at the Poison Well. Whoever they were, they didn’t present themselves to me.”

“And you didn’t find this strange?”

“I made some inquiries, but no one else remembered seeing them. I just chalked it up to Seran having a little too much of his house vintage. I mean, honestly, what would nobles want with a human?”

“Humans and elves have worked together before, my lord,” Rin said.

“May I ask what this human did that dragged a ranger all the way to my keep?” Lord Valera asked. Rin stared at the lord for a long moment.

“No,” Rin said. Lord Valera glared at Rin, but he ignored it. Time to deal with the other issue.

“Why is Hero Madrigal in your keep?”

“Hero Volker didn’t tell you?” Lord Valera asked, motioning at Kurt.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Rin asked, the barest hint of menace in his voice. “From your point of view.”

“Hero Madrigal burst into my home and accused me of selling guns to the Purists,” Lord Valera, “When I didn’t give him the answer he wanted, he attacked me and injured several of my retainers. My soldiers subdued him before he could cause more damage. I was informed by the Crystal Palace that Hero Volker was sent to negotiate for his release.” Rin looked over at Kurt. The dwarf stood frozen with his face twisted in silent frustration. Rin looked back at Lord Valera. The elf lord looked too smug. Sweet Protector, he hated these political games.

“You will release Hero Madrigal to my custody now,” Rin said.

“Excuse me?” The smug look was replaced by affronted shock.

“You will release Hero Madrigal into my custody,” Rin repeated. “As a Hero of the Empire, it’s within my rights to demand the services of any noble in the performance of my duty. I require Hero Madrigal for my hunt.”

“Why would I even consider it?”

“Because this is one of those nobility games, and I don’t have time for it. Besides, I know you’re selling guns.”

“I was willing to overlook your actions in Black Cove. They are expected of someone with your organization’s reputation. However, I will not have anyone cast aspersions on my honor in my own home. I already have one Hero of the Empire in my custody for unfounded accusations.”

“Lord Valera, I am not some drunken fool of a swordsman. I’m a Mareian ranger in the middle of a hunt. You’ve answered my questions, and I appreciate your cooperation. Once you turn over Hero Madrigal, I will have completed all I need to do in your lands and have no further interest in any of your dealings. Are you going to force me to take further interest?” The last words were cold enough to visibly chill the noble. Sometimes the ranger mythos was useful.

“You make a convincing point, Ranger Acciaio. Hero Madrigal will be released to your custody. He’s probably sobered up enough that he may be able to walk on his own,” Lord Valera said, motioning go one of his retainers. “As is my right under Imperial law, since both you and he have brought harm and injury to my subjects, I ask that you depart from my lands as quickly as possible and not return without an Imperial writ.”

“Of course, my lord,” Rin said. Kurt grabbed Rin’s arm.

“That man is responsible for selling guns to not only criminals, but to the Purists!” Kurt whispered angrily.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Rin said in a quiet voice.

“Why did you agree to leave his lands without arresting him or something?” Kurt asked, nearly apoplectic. “I thought you were some kind of constable.”

“Not now,” Rin whispered angrily. Kurt wanted to say more, but yelling across the courtyard stopped their conversation. Marteen emerged as two soldiers prodded him with halberds. He looked much as Rin expected. Marteen’s long brown hair was greasy and unkempt, brown eyes were bloodshot, and his normally tall body was stooped with fatigue. Marteen was dressed in only a pair of soiled breeches that may have been tan at one time. Familiar scars crisscrossed his torso. Marteen’s medallion hung loosely around his neck on an iron chain. Manacles were clamped on each wrist and each ankle.

Marteen blinked as he stepped into the courtyard, as if he hadn’t seen the sun for some time. He looked sober enough, with maybe the early hints of a hangover. In Rin’s experience, it was probably about four days since Marteen’s last drink. It usually took Marteen that long to dry out from one of his alcohol-fueled rampages. Marteen spied Rin and Kurt. He gave them both his familiar grin. No, the hangover hadn’t set in quite yet. Something to look forward to. The soldiers cautiously removed the manacles. Marteen gave them evil looks as he rubbed his wrists. Then, as if nothing was wrong, Marteen straightened and walked over to Rin and Kurt.

“Goddess of Light, is that you, Rin?” Marteen boomed before clapping Rin soundly on the back. “Damn, you got old. Must be you though. This thing started thumping something fierce this morning. So, Sonya sent you to fetch me?” Rin grimaced as Marteen’s sour breath wafted over.

“As I have promised,” Lord Valera said. Rin could see the concern in the elf lord’s eyes. He wanted them gone from his home and lands as quickly as possible.

“Where are his clothes, his effects, and his sword?” Rin asked.

“He’s wearing what clothes not destroyed in his altercation with my soldiers,” Lord Valera answered. “Everything else except his medallion and sword was sold to take care of the men he injured and repair the damage he did to my home. The sword was sent back to Lisandra as proof he was here when I offered to negotiate for his release.” Rin looked down at Marteen. The elf just gave him a confident smile.

“I see,” Rin said. He turned to the smiling Marteen. “He can’t travel like this. We’ll have to go back to Black Cove to get you at least some clothes.”

“I would be more than happy to provide Hero Madrigal with some basic clothing,” Lord Valera said, quickly. “In return for a small favor, of course.”

“What would that favor be?” Rin asked, cautiously.

“To deliver a message to Lady Sonya,” Lord Valera answered. Rin contemplated for a moment. He wasn’t sure who this Lady Sonya was, but it must be someone high up in the Imperial government.

“One of us will make sure your message is delivered,” Rin said, looking pointedly at Kurt. He certainly had no intention of going anywhere near the capital unless absolutely necessary.

“My thanks,” Lord Valera said, and motioned to one of his soldiers. The elf dropped a wrapped package at Marteen’s feet. Rin looked at the package for a moment.

So, this was the point of locking up Marteen. Bring someone out here of sufficient importance to bring back a message. I hate elven politics. Rin wasn’t sure what was Lord Valera’s goal, but he was sure it wasn’t something good.

“The message?” Rin asked, nonchalantly. He could probably send Kurt and Marteen off to deliver it while he continued hunting Smythe.

“Would you please inform Lady Sonya I will not be able to support her with my attendance in the Diet at this time?” Lord Valera asked, “With the Purist activity so high, I don’t feel I could leave my lands at this time. I would feel much better returning to Lisandra if the Frontier Army was more vigorous in rooting out those people.”

“Of course, Lord Valera,” Kurt said, “I must warn you Lady Sonya will be most displeased by your absence.”

“I can weather her displeasure,” Lord Valera replied, “Just as I have weathered her displeasure when I detained Hero Madrigal. What I cannot weather is that rabble running loose on my lands. Of course, if conditions were to change, I would re-evaluate my position.”

“I understand your position,” Kurt said. “I will discuss it with Lady Sonya.”

“Excellent. Now, if you will kindly be about your business and leave my lands?” The three Heroes let themselves be escorted out of the keep and back to the road.

Chapter 6

The relations betwixt the elven and dwarven races were ever fraught with contention. Both being long-lived species, they exhibited a gradual evolution in terms of technology and philosophy. The relatively peaceful co-existence they achieved in the two decades preceding the Daemon War stands as a notable accomplishment. One is left to ponder how their relations might have progressed absent the calamitous destruction suffered by the Jeweled Empire during the war. Had the war not so thoroughly discredited the elves’ perception of themselves as preeminent among the intelligent races, one must question whether there would have been a popular clamor to reassert their dominion by subjugating their dwarven neighbors and relegating them to the status of second-class citizens within the Jeweled Empire. Though attitudes towards the dwarves have indeed improved—especially after two among their number played pivotal roles in the restoration of the Crystal Blood—the dwarves remain wary when venturing beyond their ancestral territories. Thus, the historical narrative is shaped by these complex interplays of power, prejudice, and the inexorable march of time. – Foreword from “Modern Commentaries” by Scholar Gemina Res

KURT

Kurt Volker ignored the disgusted looks from the elves in the public house as he collected his food and drink from the counter. Dwarves were used to dealing with elven disdain. Not that all elves were bad people. Most of Kurt’s dearest friends were elves. If he thought all elves were incorrigible louts, Kurt wouldn’t have served the Imperial government for the past ten years. Still, by and large, dealing with elves outside his friends tried his patience. Worse, the elves in this public house were low-class. They reveled in their supposed superiority. Kurt sat back down and took a sip of the watered-down ale.

Ten years. Ten years since Kurt last set eyes on the boy. No, Rin wouldn’t be a boy anymore. Humans sprouted up fast like elves. Unlike elves though, humans kept right on aging like a spring plant. Dwarves were more like trees. They took a long time to age. Kurt looked much the same as he did ten years ago. His hair was still the same brown. The few gray whiskers in his neatly trimmed beard were there well before the boy disappeared. If anything, those whiskers were caused by Rin’s various misadventures. On the other hand, Kurt was maybe a bit stouter than when Rin last saw him. Too much time playing diplomat in Lisandra. Too much fine food and drink and not enough honest work. Kurt hoped the carefully tailored clothes and fine cloak hid some of his recently gained girth.

Kurt’s mind dwelled on when he found the small, dirty boy amid the terror gripping Lisandra almost thirty years ago. Rin was the only good thing to come out of the Night of Blood and Fire. Kurt was sent out by Lord Ranier to save as many dwarves living in Lisandra as he could. So many were murdered by the mobs before Kurt could reach them. All he saved were three silversmiths and their immediate families – and one human boy. Kurt left Lord Ranier’s service to raise the boy. It took a while for the people in his home village to become accustomed to Rin. Fortunately, Rin was Rin. The boy’s cheerful attitude converted all but one or two of the stalwart farmers. Rin wasn’t a perfect boy, but he was a hard worker and always willing to help. To anyone who knew him, Rin was always happy. Even when they were nearly killed so many times during their adventures to bring back the princess. Then he just disappeared. Just vanished without so much as a note. It wasn’t until almost two days later Kurt found out the boy left on a ship to the Republic. The pain and confusion of why Rin decided to leave wracked Kurt for months afterward.

Kurt cleared his head with a shake. Human boys needed to find their own way in the world. That’s what everyone said. Rin would find his way back home when it was time, just like he promised. Much to his shame, Kurt wasn’t sure Rin would return home. Not until Kurt felt Rin’s pulses reappear in the medallion. The promise guided the boy. How else to explain Rin’s sudden appearance in the medallion’s pulsing close to where Kurt’s duties brought him. Marteen could wait a bit longer. It was that own elf’s fault anyway he was where he was. Kurt followed the pulses to Black Cove.

Kurt was surprised Rin was coming to such a disreputable area instead of Lisandra. Maybe Rin was a smuggler. Kurt wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he didn’t know what happened to Rin in those human lands. Kurt didn’t even consider Rin became a pirate. The boy was too honorable. Contraband was one thing, but stealing and murdering from innocent traders? No, the boy couldn’t have changed that much.

The apple slice slipped from Kurt’s hand as the medallion pulsed like thunder. He took a few deep breaths. Rin was home. The boy would know Kurt was here and waiting for him. He absentmindedly brushed his cloak and beard. Anxiety pulsed through Kurt stronger than the medallion. He berated himself for acting like a foolish old man. Still, Rin was finally home. Soon, he would walk through that door. The two would embrace like a father and son should. They would have the night to reminisce about good times. It wasn’t like Marteen was going anywhere. It wasn’t Kurt’s fault the bloody, drunken fool of an elf managed to land himself in trouble. Again. Granted, Kurt would have to deal with that afterwards, but after Rin and he had a nice long chat. Even Marteen wouldn’t complain.

As the hours grew later, anxiety got the better of Kurt. He still felt Rin’s presence in Black Cove. Was he avoiding Kurt? No, that didn’t make sense. Why would Rin avoid his father? The boy was carousing with his crew. That made sense. If Rin was a smuggler, he would need to keep up appearances before sneaking away to join Kurt. Those books from the human lands made such things clear. Smuggler crews were close, like soldiers. Kurt understood that bond from his years serving in Lord Ranier’s guard. Kurt gulped the brandy to settle his nerves. God of Iron, he was a hardened veteran of too many battles to be this nervous. Finally, Kurt felt Rin coming closer. A wave of relief washed over him. Kurt sat up straighter as he felt Rin standing just outside the pub.

The human who walked through the door looked very little like the boy Kurt remembered. All the soft, boyish features were now hard and angular. Rin’s face was leaner and covered with dark stubble. The long hair was gone, replaced with a short, soldier’s cut. The green eyes that always sparkled like emeralds were now cold. There was a new long scar on Rin’s right cheek. The boy grew to a bit over six feet tall. Still shorter than the elves around him, but a good eight inches on Kurt. A long brown coat hung past Rin’s knees and covered the odd blue tunic and gray slacks. Where had he seen those clothes before? Kurt lips tightened as Rin pulled back the coat to reveal the gun on his hip. Kurt shuddered involuntarily at the sight of such a human weapon.

Kurt waved to his son, but if Rin saw, he ignored it. Kurt sat back down bewildered and hurt as Rin strode up to the bar. The barkeep was aghast that a human stood in his public house. The murmuring from the patrons wasn’t friendly either. Black Cove was strictly segregated. There were only a few areas where humans and elves mingled, and this public house wasn’t one.

As Rin stepped up to the bar, the barkeep shouted something in Mariean and gestured to the door. Kurt understood the language, but he was sitting too far away to make out what the barkeep said. Mareian words tended to sound alike unless Kurt paid close attention. Rin’s expression didn’t change.

“I think you have served a human,” Rin replied in Imperial. His voice was a much deeper baritone than Kurt remembered. Kurt grimaced as he heard the boy throw in a hint of a noble’s accent. Rin knew how offensive that was to elves. The boy always pushed just a bit too far. Why couldn’t he have grown out of that habit? The room went dangerously quiet.

“Screw off, round-ear,” the barkeep said, switching to a much coarser Imperial, “I don’t care if you can speak the proper language. I don’t want your coin. You’re bothering my customers with your stink.” Some of the elves muttered in agreement. One let out a muffled chuckle.

“I wouldn’t eat or drink anything in this Protector-forsaken place unless I felt like spending the next three days in bed,” Rin said, matter-of-factly, “Unfortunately for me, the human I’m hunting came here. Now, since I’m supposed to be polite, I’ll do you the favor of offering some coin for the information.” Rin slapped down three, heavy gold coins on the bar.

“Do us both a favor. Accept the coin and answer my questions.” The barkeep’s eyes went wide with fear at Rin’s words. Kurt was confused. What did Rin mean about hunting? Hunting what?

“I don’t serve humans,” the barkeep said, just a bit too quickly. The barkeep looked over Rin’s shoulder at two men sitting near the bar. They stood up from their table with murderous glares. From their weapons and stances, these two weren’t run of the mill thugs. Probably Reclamation veterans. Each had maybe ten inches and three stone on Rin. The two elves drew their swords and moved to opposite sides of the boy. So, not only ex-soldiers, but they knew how to fight together.

Patrons scampered out of the way. Rin looked over at the two elves, giving each a cursory inspection. Rin turned to the two elves with an annoyed expression on his face. A familiar fear shot through Kurt. He felt it anytime he watched Rin fight. Granted, Rin fought against worse odds before, but at least his own weapons were drawn.

“This isn’t your fight,” Rin said, “Sit back down and enjoy your drinks. Otherwise, things get bad for you.” Where did Rin learn that command voice?

“I’ve always wondered how such small people believe they’re our equals,” the bigger one said.

“You won’t like finding out.”

“You don’t look hard to kill,” the elf said.

“A lot of dead men said the same thing.”

The smaller elf circled behind Rin and attacked. Kurt saw the brilliant flash of flame and heard the ear-splitting roar before he realized Rin drew the firearm. Burnt brimstone and coppery blood odors filled the room. The second boom deafened the dwarf. As the gray smoke dispersed, both elves lay dead on the floor, blood pooling under the bodies. Rin grabbed the barkeep by the neck. With a quick jerk, Rin yanked the elf over the bar.

“Of all the Protector-damned stupid things to do!” Rin yelled loud enough for Kurt to hear through his ringing ears. “You got both of those men killed for nothing!” Rin whipped the gun’s barrel across the barkeep’s face. The barkeep sputtered in broken Mareian.

“Quit lying to me!” Rin hit the barkeep again. Blood flowed down from the barkeep’s mouth.

The glint of a dagger drew Kurt’s eyes as another patron started to stand. The elf didn’t see Kurt step next to him. Kurt’s massive hand clamped down on the elf’s wrist and squeezed. The elf let out a startled yelp of pain as the dagger clattered to the floor. Rin looked back and locked eyes with Kurt. There was no happiness, or even gratitude, in those green eyes. Only frustration. A deeper pain than Kurt had ever known lanced through him. Rin returned his glare to the barkeep.

“A human!” Rin barked at the barkeep, “Blond hair. Dark clothing. May have called himself Smythe.” Rin backhanded the barkeep. “Tell me everything you know now! Do not make me kill anyone else!”

“Let him up,” a new voice ordered. An elf walked out from behind the bar pointing a crossbow at Rin. Two more were in the door with swords drawn. All wore the green armbands of the local constables.

“Not a chance,” Rin snarled at the constable, “I’m a Mareian ranger on a hunt. This one has information on my quarry. Go back outside and let me do my job.” The constable tightened his grip on the crossbow. The room was silent except for the stifled sobs of the barkeep.

“Stop pointing that crossbow at a Hero of the Empire!” Kurt ordered. All three constables reflexively lowered their weapons as they stared at Kurt in shock. Kurt took a step forward and pulled his medallion out. It gleamed in the dim light of the public house.

“I am Hero Volker, and that is Hero Acciaio,” Kurt declared. “Do not interfere in Hero business!” The constables snapped to attention. Rin shot Kurt an angry look.

“Rin Acciaio?” the crossbowman asked incredulously, staring at Rin, “Rin Acciaio’s a dwarf.” Rin’s head turned slowly and locked on the constable.

“What do you mean, a dwarf?” Rin asked, his words dangerously enunciating the last words.

“Rin Acciaio, the dwarf archer as good as an elf,” the constable answered, “That’s how I’ve always heard it. The Heroes of the Empire who rescued the last of the Crystal Blood. Jevin Folim the disgraced Crystal Guard who led the Heroes, Selene Onale the scholar who found the prophecies, Marteen Madrigal the greatest swordmaster of his generation, his sister Ela the hunter who could track anyone, Sasha Tikeri the mercenary, Pallus Parn the nobling, Trennis Permstar the courtier, Kurt Volker the dwarven champion, his son Rin Acciaio, and Ral Evaster the betrayer.” Rin’s head whipped to Kurt with an accusing look. Kurt just nodded. There would be time to explain later.

“Well, I’m not a dwarf, whatever you heard. Now be good little constables and leave so I can finish my interrogation,” Rin said. The three constables retreated out of the bar with a surprising haste. As soon as they were out of sight, the patrons stampeded for the door. The few too drunk to waddle out of the public house slithered under their tables. None wanted to be in the same room as two Heroes of the Empire, especially when one was clearly enraged. Rin waited for the running to finish.

“Rin,” Kurt said.

“Not now,” Rin cut him off. He lifted the barkeep off the floor and slammed the man up against the wall. “You were telling me about the human.”

“Are you really Rin Acciaio?” the barkeep asked in a terrified voice. Rin returned his pistol to its small scabbard on his belt and pulled the medallion from under his shirt. The barkeep took one look at the gold disc and swallowed hard.

“They gave me money not to say anything,” the barkeep stammered, “The human met them here. They talked in the back.”

“Who’s ‘they?’” Rin asked, his voice cold and emotionless.

“No names, but they were nobles,” the barkeep answered, eagerly. “Paid in full Imperials.”

“Did the human leave with them?” Rin asked. The barkeep nodded furiously. “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” the barkeep said. Rin tightened his grip. “I swear to the Goddess, I don’t know! They didn’t say, and I was careful not to pay attention.” Rin stared intently into the barkeep’s eyes. Rin tossed the man to the floor. Kurt stood dumbfounded as Rin strode to the door. Rin paused at the doorway. He turned back and looked at Kurt.

“You coming?” Rin asked, impatiently. Kurt stared as Rin turned and walked out of the inn. After a moment, Kurt shook himself and trotted after Rin. The boy was untying his horse like nothing had happened.

“What under the God of Iron was that?” Kurt demanded, storming down on Rin.

“That won’t work anymore Kurt,” Rin said, “I’m not that boy anymore.”

“Who are you then?” Kurt demanded, “The Rin I knew wouldn’t beat a man bloody for information.”

“I have a job to do. I will do whatever I need to do to finish my job and go home.”

“You are home,” Kurt said.

“No, I’m not.”

“What about Illana?”

“The Protector damn Illana,” Rin said. His words were cold enough to chill the dwarf’s bones. Without another word, Rin climbed on his horse. Kurt stood on the pub’s step agape as Rin started riding away. After a few moment, Kurt pulled himself together and climbed onto his own horse.

Kurt trailed Rin for the rest of the day. He thought he would have all his questions answered. Why did Rin disappear ten years ago? Where had he gone? What had he been doing since then? Instead of answers, Kurt was left with more far more difficult questions. Who was this man Rin had become? What turned him so hard? And worst of all, how could Rin say that about Illana?

It was Rin’s life in the Republic of Marei. Kurt read how brutal things were in the human lands. That might even explain why he reacted that way at the mention of Illana’s name. As he continued to ride, Kurt reached a hard conclusion. Kurt did something to drive the person he cared for the most in the world into the clutches of those who twisted him into a person Kurt couldn’t recognize. The very idea was almost too painful to contemplate. As the daylight faded into dark, Kurt decided he needed answers. They might be painful, but the uncertainty was tearing him apart.

Kurt hesitated when he saw the campsite and the cookfire. Collecting every scrap of courage he could muster Kurt rode into the camp. Rin looked up from the fire as Kurt neared. He didn’t say anything as Kurt dismounted, tended to his pony, grabbed his saddlebags, and walked stiffly over to the fire. Rin just tended to the rabbit roasting on the spit. The two sat in silence. After a long while, Rin wordlessly handed Kurt a tin cup. The dwarf gratefully accepted. Peering into the cup, he saw it filled with coffee with just a hint of cream. The boy remembered. Maybe that was a hopeful sign. Kurt took a long gulp of the scalding liquid as Rin divided up the rabbit. The two ate in silence. To Kurt’s surprise, it was Rin who spoke first.

“Of all the places in the Empire, why did you have to be in that public house?” Rin asked.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in ten years,” Kurt answered, “I needed to see my son. I needed to know what happened to you.” Rin stared wordlessly into the fire. It was a familiar mannerism. The boy did that when he didn’t want to look at someone. Kurt braced himself and asked the question.

“What happened to you?” Kurt asked, “You just vanished without a word. Not even a note. What did I do to make you leave?” Rin locked eyes with Kurt. The green eyes danced with anger and pain. Kurt pushed down the sudden tightness in his throat.

“Nothing. You did nothing,” Rin said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“If I didn’t do anything, then why did you leave?”

“You didn’t need me anymore, Kurt. None of you did. We rescued Illana, brought her back to Lisandra, and what happened? All of you were showered with rewards. You were given positions in the Empire. Not me. Not the human. I was ignored – and none of you said a thing. Not a damn thing.”

Kurt’s mind raced back to the days after their group finally made it back to the capital. The days after returning Illana to the Crystal Palace were a blur. The entire population of Lisandra erupted into an almost constant celebration. Kurt was dragged into endless discussions of how the dwarves would fit into this new era with the return of the Crystal Blood. Rin was there, but Kurt couldn’t remember what the boy was doing. Was Rin pushed to the side? To Kurt’s eternal shame, he just couldn’t remember.

“Son, I am so sorry,” Kurt said. The last bits of rabbit fell to the ground as Kurt slumped down and sobbed. “I swear, I didn’t realize what was happening to you. We were all so busy, and I just assumed you were busy as well or with Illana. I wish you told me. I didn’t want you going away. I never wanted that. I didn’t want you to become…” Kurt’s voice trailed as he saw the cold look on Rin’s face.

“Become what, Kurt?” Rin asked. The flat tone was all the more stinging for its lack of anger. “I’m proud of my life since I went back home. I’m a Mareian ranger. I did that all on my own. I wasn’t following some stupid prophecy. I was choosing my own path. My own life.”

“Please, Rin, I wasn’t trying to insult you. Before I saw you walk into that public house, all I could remember was the happy, little boy who dragged me all over the Granite Mountains. Then all the sudden, you killed two men and beat and threatened that barkeep.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve seen me kill, Kurt,” Rin replied, sharply.

“This was different. I’ve seen you kill in the heat of combat. Back in the public house? There was a coldness I’ve never seen in you. It was shocking.” Rin sat quietly for several minutes. Kurt focused on what he could salvage of his dinner. Did he say the wrong thing and drive Rin further away?

“So why do they think I’m a dwarf?” Rin asked, breaking the silence. The non sequitur jarred Kurt. He looked deep into his coffee cup before answering.

“I don’t know where it started. It took root before we heard it in the Crystal Palace. At first, I corrected anyone who said you were a dwarf. No one listened. No one wanted to believe a human would fight alongside dwarves and elves. And no one believed a human could use a bow better than an elf. A dwarf was somehow more believable. I knew when you returned to fulfill the promise, that would be put an end to it.”

“Kurt, I didn’t come back because of the promise. I’m here because a human sorcerer is tinkering around with some very evil magic. I’m here to find him and bring him back to the Republic.”

“Rin, you promised her,” Kurt said, shaken by Rin’s words, “You looked her in her eyes, and promised you’d be with her when it was time for her to assume the throne.”

“I was a kid when we made that promise. A stupid kid who didn’t know what the Empire really was. I’m not that stupid kid anymore, and I’m damn sure not going to honor a promise to help the damned Empire.”

“Pallus is the same age as you,” Kurt retorted angrily, “He understood what was being asked of him.” Rin’s eyes lit with rage.

“Let me be clear. The Empire made it clear it didn’t owe me anything for helping to return Illana. I don’t owe the Empire, or her, one damned thing.” Kurt bit down his retort. Instincts honed as a diplomat over the past decade told him to calm down and look at it from Rin’s point of view. If what the boy said was true, then of course Rin felt betrayed. If the Empire betrayed him, why should Kurt expect Rin to feel any loyalty to the Empire, or the person expected to embody the spirit of the Empire? Kurt let out a long breath. This wasn’t an issue that was going to be resolved tonight.

“Rin, please, I’m trying to take in everything you just told me,” Kurt said, “I haven’t seen you for so long. I don’t want to spend our first night arguing.” Rin pursed his lips and nodded silently. Kurt smiled at his son.

“So, tell me, what exactly is a ranger? Marteen described them as fearsome cavalry troopers, but the ones at the embassy act more like constables.”

“We’re both. Sort of,” Rin answered, giving Kurt a genuine smile. “Originally, the rangers patrolled the steppe along the border with the Northern Kingdom. We were forced to be both soldiers and lawmen for the frontier towns and farms. About ten years before the Daemon War, some Senators tried to overthrow the Republic and set themselves up as a cabal. The legions, the constables, even the personal guards of the Senators – all of them were paralyzed. It was the rangers who rode into Marei City, killed the usurpers, and returned control to the Senate. After that, the rangers were officially charged with upholding Mareian law and borders.”

“So, the rangers sent you after this sorcerer because they knew you grew up in this part of the world?” Kurt asked.

“No,” Rin answered around a mouthful of rabbit. Kurt gave his son an old-fashioned look. Rin just shrugged. “He did the ritual in my patrol area, it’s my responsibility. So, now I’m hunting him down to bring him back.”

“What kind of ritual would make you go across the sea to get him?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t know, but he murdered eighteen people to fuel it,” Rin said. Kurt choked on the coffee.

“Eighteen people?” Kurt asked. “And you have no idea what the ritual was for?”

“No. The demon helping the sorcerer didn’t even know.”

“God of Iron, you talked to a demon?” Kurt asked.

“They’re just part of the Badlands, Kurt,” Rin replied.

“Wait, the Badlands?” Kurt asked, his eyes nearly popping out of his head, “That place Marteen only talks about when he’s really drunk?” Rin nodded as he sipped his mug of coffee.

“Honestly, it’s not nearly as bad as Marteen’s stories make it out to be,” Rin said. “I wouldn’t raise a family there, but it’s not the terror-filled land he describes.”

“How can you say that? I remember Marteen’s stories. Two thousand soldiers of the Reclamation Army marched into those lands and only twenty elves walked out – none were ever quite right afterwards. Including Marteen. How do you not go insane?”

“The Badlands doesn’t affect humans like it does elves,” Rin answered. “Besides, most of those elves died from dehydration, not from going insane.” Kurt took a long sip of his coffee as he grappled with what Rin told him. Not just about why he left, but what he had been doing back in the human lands.

“Why don’t you get some sleep Kurt? I’ll take the first watch.” Kurt gratefully accepted the offer and trudged over to his bedroll. Sleep was elusive as his thoughts kept hammering through him.

Chapter 5