'You've got to be kidding.'
"Is her name, by any chance, Mithranda?" Arorox asked.
Valith's face and voice both turned surprised. "Yes, how did you know?"
"She's quite memorable, with her childish behavior," Arorox replied.
'Finally, I can get my revenge. Muhahaha.'
He added, "For instance, she picks her nose. Her poor impulse control leads to a few emotional outbursts. She struggles to wait. And above all, she bullies, telling lies about others, even in front of the king. I was one of her victims."
Valith's face turned from shock to disbelief, and so did his voice. "I don't believe you. She would never."
"She would," Arorox said reassuringly. "She told the king I have a small one. If you don't believe me, we can ask her."
Valith couldn't help but chuckle. "We will do that, and see who the liar is."
'Muhahaha, the trap has been set.'
After that, neither of them talked. They sat there, enjoying their food and the night sky.
Around them, they heard human voices, most too far away to make out, and a few laughing. It was a bright mood, despite the ever-present danger of an attack.
At some point, looking up, Arorox saw a shooting star.
Closing his eyes, he made a wish.
'May everything go well. So that I may have my sweet and well-deserved revenge.'
"Did the man who complained about childish behavior just wish on a star?" Valith asked teasingly.
A bit embarrassed, Arorox answered, "Oh, shut up. It's bad luck to make fun of an old man wishing."
"I'm sorry, grandpa. How did you manage to stay so young?" Valith asked, barely able to hold in his laughter. "Do you perhaps drink blood? And hate garlic?" Then he burst out laughing, even louder than before. Arorox couldn't help but chuckle as well. "You're so dumb."
"Hey, Dracula, how many times did you hit your head in your coffin?" Valith laughed so hard he started crying. Arorox couldn't help but laugh too. It wasn't even that funny, only Valith's laugh was contagious.
After a while, they started calming down. Once there were a few moments of silence, Valith suggested, "We should head to sleep. It's best if we're well rested."
"Yeah, you're right," Arorox replied.
"I'd say we meet here again in the morning, around seven."
"Alright."
Both needed a drink. So, they walked to a water distribution point. Once they'd both had their fill, they said good night to each other, Valith adding before they parted ways, "I think a little wishing is exactly what we needed, knowing what's to come."
While Valith headed to his tent, Arorox went back to the large one where Kaffrine had redeemed their reward. Once there, he was greeted with an unusual scene. Everyone seemed to be searching hectically for something. On the desks, arranged in the shape of a small N, lay books and stacks of paper. Dozens of people sat there, sifting through them. Once they finished with a book or a stack of papers, they walked to the many shelves lining the walls of the tent, concealing them completely, and grabbed their next source of information, shelves filled to the brim with even more papers and books.
After looking around, Arorox decided to approach the person who seemed the least stressed: a rather old woman, her hair streaked with grey.
"Excuse me, my name is Arorox Dacrete."
Without waiting for more, the woman said in a hurry, "You are a civilian fighter now. As you know, civilians have restricted access to government equipment. And because you are no longer a prisoner, you have access to a tent in one of the civilian sections. In addition, you have full access to the food and water distribution. It is recommended you make use of all that."
"Where are the civilian sections? And the equipment distribution?"
After getting the locations, he thanked her and made his way towards the equipment distribution. After getting the locations, he thanked her and made his way towards the equipment distribution. There, he saw a familiar face at work. It was Bardur.
Arorox had forgotten that his friend's original hair color was black, which perfectly matched the grey band tying it all into a bun. His dark brown eyes, his lips, his whole face shone with happiness, curving Arorox's mouth into a smile. Sadly, he didn't have the well-groomed, full beard he was once so proud of. His skin wasn't as pale as it would later become, either. His whole presence was completely different—sunny, not cold.
'What will happen to you, old friend?'
It wasn't really a coincidence that Arorox went to this exact equipment distribution where Bardur was working. He'd followed a hunch, or more like a feeling, that his friend would be there.
Bardur was currently facing a young lad from behind the black wooden counter, talking to him, probably giving advice. After a while, he walked into the black tent a few meters behind him and shortly after came out with a sword and shield, handing them to the young man, who left moments later. With no one left to serve, Bardur sat down on the stool behind the counter, carved from the same wood.
Arorox stood off to his right, out of his line of sight, hiding. He felt embarrassed. Embarrassed about his tantrum at the council, about the prison sentence that followed, and about the sorry state he'd been seen in. He would've rather just left, but something held him there. He couldn't describe what it was, but it was exactly what drove him to push past his embarrassment.
Slowly, he walked towards Bardur, and with each step, the urge to turn around grew. But that indescribable feeling pushed him forward against it. Halfway there, Bardur spotted him, and his friend's smile twisted slightly. It was still a smile, but something was mixed into his happiness that Arorox couldn't quite place, try as he might. A moment later, Bardur waved, and Arorox returned the gesture. It was a bit awkward.
As Arorox reached him and stood in front of him, Bardur was the first to speak, full of enthusiasm, "Greetings, your lordship."
Arorox chuckled while replying, "Why so pompous?"
Bardur sarcastically responded, "What?! How could you, milord? To your own loyal subject!"
Arorox thought for a moment, stroking his imaginary beard he once had. Before asking, "Hmm, my subordinate. Remind me. Why did you join my legion? Your lord might have hit his head, you know."
"Well, my lord, after successfully winning a bet you weren't supposed to win, I kept my part of the promise and joined your one-man legion for a month."
Arorox could have sworn he heard his friend quietly add "cheater" at the end.
"Hmm, that sounds delightful," Arorox said, grinning. "As you can see, I am a civilian fighter now. Not a prisoner. So, your lordship orders you to bring me the finest falchion and shield you have."
As his loyal subordinate stood up, he said, impressed, "Oho, bravo, what an upgrade for my lordship. From a captain, to a prisoner, to a civilian in just two days. Truly astounding. But now that I think about it, it's more of a downgrade."
But before his one man legion could take a step towards the tent, Arorox added, ignoring his taunt, "And a whetstone, a clothing repair kit, a nice belt, and lastly, a few Clayters."
To which his friend responded, "I'm sorry to say this, but as a civilian, milord isn't allowed to have explosives. So, let's cross the Clayters out."
Arorox lingered for a while before saying, with a bit of sadness, "Okay."
Bardur gave him a slightly understanding nod before he went into the tent. While standing outside, Arorox had a thought. Maybe it was the very thought that had subconsciously led him to his friend.
'What if I tell him what's going to happen tomorrow? The oracle didn't say I couldn't warn my friend. So why shouldn't I give my friend the choice to survive? Maybe the oracle simply forgot about this. Then again. What if, by giving him a chance to live, I would only be taking that same chance away from someone else? And with it, from many others. Including her.'
Then his friend came out of the tent, and Arorox's smile grew brighter immediately at what he saw.
'He really brought one of the finest falchions. It didn't have any decorative elements, but one could tell it was freshly forged, or at least had seen minimal use.'
He was truly a great friend, always in such a cheerful mood.
'Fuck you, oracle, future, destiny, and death. I'll trust my instincts.'
As Arorox began to talk, his friend began talking at the exact same moment. After a bit of back and forth about who would go first, Bardur went first.
"I don't know if this is the right moment to ask. Then again, I'm not sure the right moment ever comes. And as your only loyal subject, and your best friend, I think I have the right to know."
He paused briefly, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to ask you the second I saw you behind bars. What happened?"
The moment Arorox heard his friend ask the question, he got a bad taste in his mouth, and his embarrassment flared up again. But Bardur was right. If he didn't ask now, he might never get the chance, and the question would always linger in the back of his mind, something that could put a dent in their friendship.
So, even though Arorox wasn't prepared to answer the question, he said, "I-uhm. I don't know. Well, I do know, but not in detail."
Arorox lingered for a while, considering how much he should tell. His friend waited patiently, careful not to rush him. After considering, Arorox took a deep breath and spoke. Every word cut like a knife, laced with unease.
"As we were in the conference, I was suddenly hit with a wave of anger, wrath, and grief, which ultimately led me to underhandedly attack Akash. I-I don't know where these emotions came from. I feel utterly ashamed about what happened, and I'm sorry."
His friend looked at him with a complicated expression. Arorox could read from his face that he wished to know more, but Bardur instead nodded understandingly and asked, "You wanted to tell me something?"
Arorox nodded while looking around, checking that no one was near them. After confirming, he bent forward to Bardur and whispered, "I met someone. That someone met the oracle."
"The oracle?! Are you sure?" his friend whispered loudly.
Arorox shushed him and replied quietly, "Yes. That person told me what the oracle told him, which were things only the oracle would know."
"Which things?" Bardur asked curiously, his voice low.
"Now comes the part where you must trust me. I don't exactly know how much I can tell you, so I'll tell you the minimum. Don't participate tomorrow," Arorox said.
"What do you mean by that?" his friend asked, confused. "Don't participate tomorrow?"
Arorox exhaled deeply, knowing he had to give a bit more information. "Tomorrow, they'll form an army and head out. Try not to be part of it."
"You know I'm a knight. I have to participate," Bardur whispered.
A wave of desperation came over Arorox. His friend was right. He had to participate.
Was there really no other way? Seeing how kind his friend was made Arorox sad. He wanted his friend to survive. He wanted to repay the kindness his friend had shown him.
'Such fine equipment... Wait.'
Then it hit him. A way for his friend to avoid tomorrow's battle.
"You don't have to, if you work through the night," Arorox said. "Nobody likes working at night, so you'll easily get a shift."
Bardur thought for a moment before answering, "That would work, but there's a reason no one wants to work through the night. What if the citadel is attacked by Tiremates? You know they're active during the day. I won't get any sleep. Worst case, I'll have to fight completely sleep-deprived."
"I know it's risky," Arorox admitted, "but you'll have a far lower chance of surviving if you're part of tomorrow's army. You've got to trust me."
Bardur lingered for some time before replying, "I'll trust you, but not because of the oracle. Because you're always right, my lordship, my friend, my not so good deceiving predicter, who definitely doesn't have any affinity towards plausibility's"
"I don't have any affinity for that. Where'd you get that idea?" Arorox asked, a bit panicked.
"Aha. What was that thing in the bar about always bet on Arorox, huh? And that time you won the bet? Surely you can't know the future," Bardur replied skeptically.
'When did I do that?!'
Arorox said, a bit embarrassed, "Come on, that was just because I was drunk and got lucky once."
"Yeah, yeah, take your stuff and get out of here, milord."