Creative Heavens

“He’s feverish.” said a voice.

“With that wound, he may not live long…” it continued.

Kael felt a sharp pain on his left shoulder. He tried to shout, but couldn’t. He felt like he was gagged, and blindfolded. He could hear two people talking… Both of them were male. One of the voices sounded like an old man.

“He’s conscious already…”

“It doesn’t matter. He’ll black out again anyway. Quick, do something about his wound.” The voice was frantic.

He then felt another surge of pain, and his consciousness started to fade away again.

“Don’t worry… You won’t die… Yet.” Someone whispered into his ear just as his senses went silent once again.

Kael awoke by the sound of people chatting outside. He grogilly sat up from the makeshift bed, still feeling blur and dull. He tried to stretch, only to find out that he couldn’t move his left arm. It was bandaged up, with blood still seeping through the bandages. The wound still burned in his shoulder.

‘The wound didn’t look that bad…’ he thought to himself.

Kael then took the chance to examine his surroundings. From his dulled senses, he guessed that he was in a roughly pitched tent, there was a small table beside him, with more bloodied bandages and various first aid materials. He was saved by someone, he remembered all the voices chattering around him when he drifted in and out of consciousness. Just he was about to get up, someone came in.

“Well well. Looks who’s up.” said the man, he seemed to be in a cheery mood.

He was dressed in cloth and leather. And he sported a bandana too. Judging from his appearance, he seemed to be… An adventurer? No. Thought Kael. A bandit.

Kael on reflex, put up his arm in defence as the bandit approached him. As if wanting a start a fight.

“Hey hey… Is that any way to treat your savior? You would be dead if I hadn’t pass by your group when I did.” He said with a laugh.

“But then again… I wouldn’t want to see that scene again.” His tone changed suddenly.

“You saw what happened? You knew who they were?” Kael asked. Curious.

“Yeah… I saw what happened. And the two who attacked you? You couldn’t be in deeper shit than that…” he said slowly. He was serious now.

“The warlock was Jace Arcanis. The girl with the spear was Vynn Ilia. Both of them, are from the Imperial Empire of Iais. I suppose you know that.” He continued.

Kael nodded. Not many people of Eamon knew who they were, but as one of the nation’s Royal Guards, it was imperative to know of the other nations notable individuals. He only knew that Jace and Vynn were part of the Imperial Empire’s Einherjar. A group of the empire’s most feared and respected generals and strategists. One of them would be enough to overpower them. Sending two was overkill. And… They were probably starting a war.

“I don’t know how many are there in the Einherjar, but there’s another woman by the name of Amelia. Don’t know much about her though.” Finished the bandit.

Kael was surprised. The bandit had the same amount of information he did. How did a guy like him get such information? He asked himself. But what he said was true, that they didn’t know how many people were in the Einherjar. Then again, he didn’t know of the woman named Amelia.

“You know surprisingly a lot about the Einherjar… Tell me, how accurate is your information? Did you go to those sleazy taverns? Or are they just rumours?” Kael asked, even though he knew the bandits information was overall, correct. But he wanted to know where, and how he got his information.

The bandit merely laughed.

“Of course I know…” he said.

“Cause I was from the Empire.” The bandit shrugged.

That had caught him off-guard. He wasn’t mentally prepared for that answer. Though, now that he had given it some thought, it seemed logical. How else would he know so much?

“Anyway, you better get out of here.” Said the bandit.

“We couldn’t do anything much to heal your wounded shoulder. Vynn’s lance was engraved with powerful magic or something. I’m not too sure, but that’s what probably preventing your wounds from healing.” He continued bluntly.

Now that he mentioned it, Kael still felt some throbbing pain on his left shoulder. The bandage was even more soaked with blood than when he woke up. The wound still hasn’t closed.

“Someone with arcane knowledge should be able to help. A magi or anything along the lines of that. Till then, you’ll be slowly bleeding to your death.”

“Thank you for rescuing me.” Kael said with gratitude. “I won’t die from a wound like this…”

“I better get back to the capital.” He said, regaining his composure as a soldier, and Royal Guard. “I’m sorry to impose, but I need a horse.”

“Don’t worry. You can burrow one from us. Just tell them I sent you.” Replied the bandit.

“Many thanks… This may be strange, but aren’t you bandits? Thieves? What would you gain from helping me?” Kael asked curiously.

“We aren’t any normal bandits you find around here. Lets just say… We have our own code to abide to.” He chuckled.

Kael then started to put on his armour, and sheathed his sword. He took his shield with him too, it should still be marginally useful, even with a hole in it. Just as Kael walked out the tent, he remembered something.

“Who do I tell them who sent me?”

“Reyva… Reyva Daggerfall.”

Kael nodded, and walked out the tent.

Whispers everywhere. Someone died. The local count of the town had passed away last night. Count Balmont was not well received by the public. Unreasonable taxes, holed up in his mansion, not giving a damn about the town. The usual chatter of the morning market was mostly silent. The people despised the count alright, but one question lingered in their heads.

Who killed him?

The local makeshift police force went in. They say the count lay dead on the floor of his room, with a goblet of spilled wine next to him. It was no natural death. Even so, no blood was spilled. The door was still locked when they got in. And there was no evidence of a struggle. It was like the count just… Dropped dead.

A man with short silver hair was purchasing an apple from a local merchant. The count’s death was the only talk on that cold morning. He was leaving the market district when he heard a little girl talking to her mother.

“Mummy? Was it the Phantom?” she asked curiously.

Her mother just hurriedly shushed her daughter and started to quickly walk home.

The man gave a little smile, as he bit into his apple.

“It seems even the people in Eamon know about me.”