In the dead of night, Veyric and Vera shared a small room. Inside the room were two beds, and Vera was lying face down on one of them. The only source of light in the room was a slow-burning candle. Veyric stood by the cracked windows, gazing out mindlessly, his cloak hanging on a nearby wooden chair. Vera turned over on her shoulder to face Veyric, her eyes meeting his back.

  “Veyric, when was the last time you’ve slept?” She said to him in a sleepy, raspy voice.

  “I don’t know, the idea of it hasn’t been rewarding in a long time.” He replied.

  “You need to get some sleep. If you can’t fight, this village will always have a problem with bandits. These people are the kindest we’ve met so far.” Vera urged.

  “You’re right…” Veyric said, turning away from the window, and sitting on the other bed. The glyphs imbued on Veyric’s horns were glowing softly, providing another source of light. His golden bronze skin was clearly visible without the oversized cloak, which covered all of his attributes.

  “If Leviara is the Kingdom of Unity, wouldn’t that mean it’s also an advocate of peace?” He asks.

  “Probably. Who in their right mind would name their Kingdom the Kingdom of Unity if they didn’t believe in peace?” She responded.

  “A filthy liar. These people went out of their way to beg them for help, and still no one’s come?” Veyric explained.

  “Okay, how about you get some sleep? Seriously.” She said.

  “I won’t be able to sleep comfortably because of my horns…” He looked down at the pillow and slipped off his boots.

  “Are you serious? Do you choose not to sleep because of your horns?” Vera propped herself up on an elbow.

  “I can sleep on my back, but… I miss the joys of sleeping on my side.” Veyric grumbled before adjusting onto his back, staring up at the wooden ceiling.

  Vera mockingly lies on her side.

  “Guess who can sleep on their side.” She grins.

  “Shut up, Vera.” He said while sighing.

  There was a long silence, and within that, Mother Nature filled it with the sound of crickets singing. Veyric’s eyes were still snapped open.

  “Hey, Veyric?” Vera softly called.

  “What is it?” He asked.

  “I forgot to thank you…” She said.

  Veyric’s eyes flicked over to her.

  “For what?” His voice softened, too.

  “For putting up with me these past few days, and trusting me. I would’ve been worse off without you, so I’m grateful that we met.” She reflected.

  “I’m glad I could help you, but… It eats away at me to know that there will always be more victims, and we can’t help everybody.” He grumbled, his hands restless for a moment.

  “I… Wouldn’t say I was hurt in a way like you were, but I believed in someone I thought I could trust, and… It changed me.” Veyric’s voice was a bit shaky.

  “In what way?” Vera asked.

  “I don’t know yet. I’m truly hoping to find out if I’m like my mother, or not—but with all this saving and fighting for people, I guess I’m following right in her footsteps.” Veyric stated.

  “Was your mom some kind of savior?” Vera’s voice was growing sleepier with every exchange of words.

  “Something along the lines of that, I suppose. Go to sleep, I can hear that you’re barely hanging on.” Veyric said.

  “Mhm, tomorrow’s going to be an eventful day…” Vera whispered before falling asleep. The room was still, Veyric’s head shifting against the pillow, staring back up at the ceiling.

  Rays of sunlight had not woken Veyric, but it was his survival instinct that did. The room was still dark, Vera’s slumbering breaths filling the room. He sat up on the side of the bed, slipping back on his worn boots before standing and strolling over to the cracked window. Staring out, he saw the warm tones of orange, red, and streaking purples emerging from the angelic sunrise.

  Veyric snatched his cloak off the nearby wooden chair, slipping it on and exiting the wooden house. The forest surrounding the village remained still, and the birds that would chirp nonstop were silent. It was quiet until the front door to another home opened. It was Reed, and in one of his hands was a basket. Before Veyric approached, he slipped his hood over his head.

  “Good morning, sir,” Veyric said.

  “Morning, since you’re awake, make yourself useful and help me pick some flowers,” Reed said.

  “Sure, I’ll help,” Veyric said, walking beside him. Reed’s eyes shot across towards Veyric for a brief moment, then they focused ahead.

  “Do you do this every morning?” Veyric asked.

  “Yes, I pick flowers near the entrance of our village for Penelope,” Reed responded, scratching his chin.

  “Why?” Veyric questioned.

  “It’s for her burn. It gets irritated at times, so she’ll scratch it until it gets red. I make her a special ointment from the flowers to help her overcome the pain and irritation.” Reed answered. Once outside the entrance gates of the village, they lingered near a spot with a batch of flowers.

  “They’re in season, so it’s much easier to find them. Looks like I’m lucky today.” Reed crouched down to inspect the flowers. They were marigolds, and each one danced along the spectrum of bright yellows and semi-dark oranges. They spent minutes cutting the flowers and putting them into the basket.

  “Do you have a plan on how you’re going to deal with the bandits?” Reed asked.

  “Their leader is my number one priority. If I deal with him first, the rest will hesitate.” Veyric responded.

  “You think just because their leader goes down, the rest will follow suit? What if that just motivates them to burn our entire village down?” Reed dropped a handful of flower heads into the basket.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “If their leader is as strong as Penelopes says, then their watching of his defeat will be demoralizing,” Veyric replied.

  “Let’s hope you’re right. Our village has enough graves in the back as it is.” Reed said.

  “I wanted to know since meeting her yesterday, but how did Penelope get that burn mark?” Veyric asked.

  “None other than that bastard leader of the bandits. It’s all I can think about these days. Penelope begged him to stop, she apologized, she tried kicking him away, but that motherfucker took pleasure in all of it. I can’t help but be pissed that we’re making it your problem, too.” Reed’s voice grew tense.

  “If you can, I want you to make him pay for it. Make him pay for everything. I don’t care how you do it either.” He added.

  Veyric was silent for the rest of their time picking flowers. Once the basket was halfway full, they found their way back into the village. By this time, the sun had risen, and life in the village resumed. A group of children sat with Vera in a circle while she read them a book, teaching them words they’d never heard of. Despite the amount of activity happening in the village, it all felt so still to Veyric. Mother Nature’s inhabitants were still quiet; faint breezes that would come and go hadn’t washed by for minutes. Then, he felt it. The distant vibrations that conflicted with the village folk, Veyric walked towards the entrance of the village, and in the distance, he saw countless heads of approaching men. Reed noticed the urgency in Veyric’s footsteps and approached him, but before he needed to ask, he was able to see it for himself. The bandits were making their way towards the entrance of the village, and Reed felt his anger boiling up from inside.

  “If I were strong enough, I’d fight with you, but I’m not. It’s all up to you now. I’ll get everyone inside.” Reed said.

  With the criticality of the moment, Reed shouted out.

  “Everyone inside, the bandits are coming! Hide your wares, your families, and whatever important belongings you have!”

  Veyric focused his attention back on the approaching bandits, scanning the waves to see anyone who stood out. Despite no one standing out to his instincts, not for a second did he stop scanning each bandit for any semblance of leadership. He pulled his gaze back and noticed that everyone was tucked away in their homes. Penelope and Reed were the only ones who chose not to seek refuge just yet.

  “Why aren’t you two hiding?” Veyric asked.

  “They’ll know something’s wrong if they don’t see either me or Penelope. Let us greet them, and whatever happens after that is up to you.” Reed said.

  “Fine, I’ll play along,” Veyric added.

  Moments later, the bandits were right at the entrance. Penelope’s nerves were high, and Reed could barely contain the clear disdain leaking from his features. A bandit stepped up, their boots crushing into the ground, eyeing Reed and invading his personal space.

  “Last time you were very disobedient, Reed. I brought backup just in case you tried to pull another stunt. Where’s our money?” The bandit’s voice was low, malicious, and riled. Reed approached the bandit head-on.

  “Haven’t got your money, you piece of scum.” He said before spitting in the Bandit’s face. Penelope’s heart jumped—the terror was evident in her face. The bandit shut his eyes and nodded his head, wiping off his saliva with his sleeve. He turned and punched Reed in the stomach—he stumbled backwards, clutching his abdomen, but the bandit grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him back in. He unsheathed a jagged knife from its scabbard, holding it firmly against Reed’s neck. Penelope yelped out, hands trembling.

  “Quit playing around, or you’ll be joining your family.” The bandit said.

  “Stop, I’ll go get the money! Just please let go of him.” Penelope’s voice was on the edge of tears.

  “Chop, chop, whore, we’re wasting time here!” The bandit tossed Reed onto his rear, glaring at him. A bone-crunching crack cut through the air as Veyric’s fist slammed into his jaw. Reed could only stare as the man collapsed onto his side, the knife clattering into the dirt. Veyric pressed him over with his heel, a golden glare escaping beneath his hood, and burned into the bandit’s unresponsive face. The others rushed in to try and help, but Veyric’s head swiftly shot towards them, the darkness and the rush of gold from under his hood swaying them to a stop. He kicked the bandit under his heel to the side, the unconscious body rolling out of his path before Veyric paced forward.

  “Bring your leader.” He demanded.

  The clouds were settling in, blocking the sun from shooting down its vibrant rays to the surface. Footsteps paced backward, but there was a pair that stomped onwards. Through the crowd of men, Veyric’s gaze cut through to see a dangerously remarkable figure. It was a man of colossal height, and surrounding him was a spirit notable enough for Veyric’s instincts to respond to. His hair was black, short, and greying. His face littered with scars, scrapes, and bruises—shoulders broad with incredible muscularity. On his body was a brown jacket that was clearly made from the fur of a grizzly bear, and underneath was his bare skin. The man’s pants were black and worn, and his boots matched. Veyric immediately took notice that the man was not wielding a weapon. Now face-to-face with their leader, Veyric had to significantly slant his view to look at the man.

  “You’re a brave, but foolish man.” The leader’s voice was gruff and harsh, like his vocal chords were constantly being scraped by razors.

  “What have you to say about yourself, then?” Veyric replied.

  “You’re witnessing the creation of an empire.” The man replied.

  “That’s it? You’re killing families and innocent people for the sake of an empire?” Veyric said.

  “Empires are not built on top of kindness, boy. Families, innocence—those are just stones in the road waiting to be cleared. Bend the knee, or die. That’s the choice for the weak. Join me, and you live. Refuse, and you rot like dogs no one remembers.” The leader said.

  Veyric exhaled sharply.

  The leader balled up his fists. “Now—your answer.”

  “I don’t bow to men who drown children for their future.” Veyric spat out. Those watching in their homes couldn’t believe this was reality—the air was thick with tension, and Veyric refused to back down.