When Lucian arrived in Truwenreuth with Jarek and the mercenaries, the small town was wrapped in a thick blanket of fog. Lucian's sensitive nose picked up a strong, earthy scent mixed with a hint of meat and old fish. The food smells in particular made his stomach growl, since he had not eaten anything in days due to stress and nerves.
The streets were only moderately busy. A merchant's wagon carrying a few wooden crates rolled over the cobblestones, a few travellers headed wearily for the nearest inn, and some residents carried their groceries home or quickly disappeared into the side streets. Veylan soldiers patrolled all the important locations.
Lucian and Jarek wore their uniforms, and therefore their crest, concealed beneath their travel cloaks. That way they were not immediately recognized and greeted by every passing soldier, which suited him just fine on a day like this.
To draw less attention as well, the mercenaries wore wooden masks, had pulled their hoods deep over their faces and hid the rest of their bodies under dark clothing. They still earned a few curious glances, but it was far better than the alternative.
Fortunately, only the Drakani needed this level of concealment.
The Arcanist, whose appearance was almost human aside from his hair and eye color, did not attract further attention. Lucian thought that with his exaggeratedly pale skin and silver hair he blended into the fog quite well. Only the reddish eyes stood out.
Without taking any detours, they rode straight to the guardhouse and brought their horses into the back courtyard. After Lucian climbed down from Nouri's back, he let his eyes wander across the yard. Instead of the usual four guards who would typically be on duty at the same time in a facility like this, he counted eight.
The building was made of rough stone with narrow, barred windows and heavy doors. The courtyard itself was very functional. There was a small stable and a separated area filled with sand. A few straw dummies stood on it.
Once the horses had been handed over and Lucian had said his farewells to Nouri, the small group was greeted by the captain and her scribe. Several other guards in earthy green uniforms followed them. Aside from the color and the crest, they looked identical to Lucian's own.
The captain of the city guard, a woman with tightly pulled-back hair and dark eyes, greeted Jarek and then Lucian. She nodded to them respectfully and said:
"Commander Liard, Deputy Verley. I am Captain Fenn of the Truwenreuth City Guard. If you would please follow me."
The scribe and the guards beside her mirrored her gesture, while Captain Fenn looked at the two masked mercenaries with a furrowed brow.
"Oh, right," Jarek remembered, turning around, "you can take them off while we are here."
"W-wait—" Lucian tried to call out to warn them, but it was already too late.
The Drakanian mercenaries followed the instruction and removed their hoods as well, while the Arcanist stepped aside as if distancing himself from the scene.
Without the hood, the woman revealed purple skin and two impressively curved horns. The Drakanian beside her had gray skin, slightly pointed ears that stuck out, and strangely shaped horns that looked like frozen flames.
Lucian watched the guards' faces closely. The sight was nothing new to him anymore, since he had been traveling with them for days.
Aside from that, he had fought one or two Drakanians before, yet even he had needed a moment to process their unusual appearance the first time he encountered one.
The guards flinched and instinctively moved their hands to the grips of their weapons. Even the captain had turned pale and stood there with raised eyebrows. But she held her people back with a sharp look and a lifted hand.
They obeyed, throwing contemptuous glances at the Drakanians, though they remained visibly tense.
While the Drakanian woman greeted the humans with a grin, the gray-skinned man remained calm and unfazed.
Of course they react like this, Lucian thought. Considering the millennia-old hostility between their nations, it was a miracle the situation had not escalated. But he also understood why they needed them. Ordinary humans were no match for someone like the Flame Hunter and an Elementaris.
Then the captain said, clearly trying to keep her voice steady:
"I ask your forgiveness. My subordinates are not used to such… guests."
Lucian stepped beside Jarek and whispered:
"You could have warned them."
"They will have to get used to it anyway," he replied quietly without turning toward him.
After that, they were instructed to enter the building.
The corridor inside was plainly built and very cramped. Torches cast a flickering light on the rough stone walls, causing shadows to dance restlessly across the room.
Captain Fenn walked ahead with her scribe and a guard. Jarek, Lucian, and the mercenaries followed them, while the remaining guards walked behind them at a sufficient distance.
Their steps produced a dull sound that echoed through the entire corridor. To Lucian, the noise felt unbearably loud, making him raise his shoulders involuntarily.
Jarek now removed his hood as well and adjusted his scarf. A brief coughing fit overtook him.
Lucian watched him with concern. Weather like this often troubled him, and on top of that, even from afar he could hear that Jarek seemed short of breath.
Then a dark smudge on Jarek's face caught his eye, smeared across his temple. He also noticed that a few strands of Jarek's dark hair appeared sticky and shimmered ruby red.
Lucian pointed at his own temple with his finger to show Jarek the corresponding spot.
"You've got something there," he whispered.
Jarek ran his hand over his temple, looked at the dirt on his fingertip, and replied in a muffled voice:
"Thanks."
Lucian would have liked to ask him where the dirt had suddenly come from, but Jarek addressed Captain Fenn and inquired:
"What measures have you taken to successfully detain someone like the Flame Hunter and Kiyan? To be honest, I would hardly have thought that possible in a small town like this."
Lucian perked up at the question. Before they had set out for Truwenreuth, he had learned from Jarek that the three fugitives had only been captured at all because of a fortunate coincidence.
Even so, he wished that coincidence had never occurred. He did not know the Flame Hunter, and she meant nothing to him. He felt somewhat sorry for the princess, even though he barely knew her. But in his eyes, Kiyan had simply been caught up in the whole thing and had essentially done nothing wrong. He didn't deserve this.
Lucian noticed Captain Fenn clenching her fists. She did not answer at first. Jarek waited patiently for her response.
After a few blinks, she reported in a muted voice:
"Admittedly, it was not easy. We managed to restrain the Flame Hunter with tried and tested precautions for ordinary arcanists, but the Elementaris…"
Captain Fenn fell silent.
Lucian lowered his head and clenched his teeth.
Then Jarek asked matter-of-factly:
"Were there any deaths?"
Captain Fenn flinched slightly, turned her head toward him, nodded, and explained:
"Yes… During his arrest it took twelve men just to overpower him at all. And even with the shoulder injury he sustained in the process, he later tried to escape his cell when we wanted to bring him water."
Lucian forced himself to remain motionless and stubbornly follow the two of them. But inside he was nothing but a storm. A sharp pain shot through his heart as a friend had become an enemy, and heat surged through him at the thought that Aurel had caused all of this.
"That was a mistake," Jarek stated curtly.
Shortly after, he wanted to know:
"How many?"
As they turned around a corner, she answered:
"Three dead and six injured. That was four days ago now. For safety reasons we have neither brought him water nor food since then, and we doubled the number of guards."
At the number of deaths, Lucian's stomach tightened even more. The fatalities were definitely a tragedy, he could not deny that. But he knew Kiyan and also the situation he was in. In the end, neither he nor the princess would be left alive. If Lucian's own life had depended on it, he did not know whether he would not have acted the same. Besides, Kiyan had never killed in the past unless his own life or someone else's life had been directly threatened.
But Jarek only said:
"That was the right decision. Dehydration should not kill him as quickly as it would a human."
They reached the guardroom of the building. Captain Fenn held the door open for Jarek, but before he entered he said to Lucian:
"Stay here and keep an eye on everyone. I can handle the handover on my own."
Lucian nodded and watched as Jarek disappeared into the guardroom with Captain Fenn and the scribe. All he could see inside the room was a plain wooden table, a few chairs and benches, and a board on the wall.
Then the door closed. Two of the guards positioned themselves beside it at once, while the others spread out through the corridor and examined the strangers attentively.
The arcanist and the Drakanian sat down silently on an empty bench.
Lucian leaned against a free spot on the wall with his arms crossed. He felt a heavy pressure in his chest that he kept to himself.
The Drakanian woman stepped into the gap between Lucian and the bench with the others, resting her hand on the shoulder of the arcanist who sat to her right.
He looked up at her with raised eyebrows and said in an elegantly sounding accent:
"I am not an armrest."
"But it is… how do you say it? Arqun?"
His gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat longer, as if he had to sort out the words first.
Then he replied:
"For the hundredth time, I do not speak Drakanian."
"Hm? I thought all arcanists are so clever and speak many languages," she teased him, folding her arms behind her back.
Lucian had followed the scene from the corner of his eye, which she had certainly noticed, so she grinned at him and winked.
The arcanist laughed, shook his head, and pulled a small pocket book from beneath his cloak. Before he started reading he added:
"You should not lump everyone together."
The Drakanian woman shrugged and leaned against the wall as well. For a moment, it was quiet. A few of the guards had started whispering among themselves.
Finally Lucian said to the Drakanian woman:
"The word is comfortable."
She had just been staring at the wall opposite when he suddenly hit her with that, so she looked up in bewilderment and turned toward him.
Then she asked at a hurried pace, as if she could no longer restrain her curiosity:
"How does a Yionzhna like you even know Drakanian?"
Lucian considered whether he should answer. He did not like the sudden attention everyone in the room was giving him.
He sighed quietly and after a few breaths he answered her question anyway:
"I do not speak it very well. I have only picked up a few words here and there."
"Hm?" she made in a high voice.
Lucian was not sure what it meant, but he assumed it was her way of processing what he had said.
After another pause she asked:
"And why were you greeted second earlier? Do you have a… uh."
She broke off and touched her chin. Then she seemed to remember what she had wanted to say and added:
"Ah. High rank?"
Lucian's mouth twitched slightly as he murmured:
"You could say that."
"Hm. Well, in Drakania it is normal for the strongest to receive the important positions. No matter how old they are. But I always thought that among you Yionzhna no one that young gets big responsibilities," she explained as she looked up at the ceiling in thought.
Lucian shrugged and tilted his head side to side before answering:
"Yes, that is usually the case."
"Then you earned that responsibility in different ways?"
He had to think for a moment about what she might mean by 'different ways.'
"Oh," he said when he realized she meant 'other ways', "no, unfortunately not. It is very complicated."
"Hmm," she made again and looked at him from the corner of her eye with raised eyebrows.
At that moment the door opened again and Jarek, Captain Fenn, and the scribe entered the corridor.
Jarek's eyes moved through the room until they finally settled on Lucian.
He said:
"We will start the inspection for the handover now. It is better if you come along."
So the group followed them to the cell block, always accompanied by additional guards.
Captain Fenn walked ahead with firm steps while the scribe hurried after her. He already had some paper and a quill at hand.
Two guards opened the heavy iron door to the cell block as soon as they saw Captain Fenn approaching.
While they passed through the door, Captain Fenn explained:
"As protocol requires, the prisoners are checked and recorded in the presence of Commander Liard and his retinue."
She placed particular emphasis on the word 'retinue', which made Lucian's eyebrows draw together.
After they left the ordinary holding cells with their various prisoners behind them, another narrow hallway followed, leading deeper into the building.
More guards stood at the entrance to the corridor, making room for the group and nodding politely to both Captain Fenn and Jarek.
This area contained only four cells, spaced far apart. In contrast to the ordinary cells, these had heavy iron doors and solid walls instead of simple bars.
Captain Fenn paused at the entrance area and stated in a matter-of-fact voice:
"Here we have our iron cells for special cases. It is actually the first time in many years that we have had to use them."
"Who is where?" Jarek demanded to know as he adjusted his sleeves.
At that moment Lucian noticed that Jarek's forearms were still bandaged. The bandages had already caught his eye a week earlier. When he had asked about them, it had turned out that he had been burned during the encounter with the Flame Hunter. Seeing the bandages made him feel guilty for not having been there to help.
Captain Fenn answered:
"Front left the princess, far back right the Flame Hunter, and front right the Elementaris."
She was about to walk to the first cell when Lucian spoke to Jarek, who stood beside him:
"Wait. Could I maybe…"
Lucian broke off the question in a shaky voice and looked down. The request would not cross his lips.
Jarek sighed, turned to him, and asked:
"You want to speak with him alone?"
Lucian's eyes widened. Once again it hit him how often Jarek noticed more than he let on.
Captain Fenn and even the scribe looked back and forth between the two of them with bewildered expressions.
"That is impossible. With just a single cup of water and the air around him he nearly overwhelmed nine guards. A private conversation would be an irresponsible risk. I cannot allow that," Captain Fenn said in a strict tone, slicing the air with a brief hand gesture to underline her point.
Jarek immediately replied, unimpressed:
"He is not my deputy for nothing. He can endure more than it seems. Besides, I will not let him go completely alone."
It was clear that the captain did not like this opinion, but she kept her words to herself and only nodded.
"I do not need protection. He will not harm me," Lucian insisted.
Jarek stood motionless, chin slightly raised as he looked Lucian in the eyes. His gaze rested on him calmly, but Lucian knew what it meant. There were not many authority figures Lucian accepted. But Jarek was definitely one of them.
So he swallowed hard and gave in:
"Fine. But one person accompanying me is enough."
Jarek nodded in agreement.
Lucian considered whom he should take with him. The arcanist would be advantageous, but in such a confined space he would be at a disadvantage. The Drakanian woman was too talkative for his taste, and the Drakanian man had never said a single word. Lucian was not even sure he could speak at all. None of them seemed ideal, and taking another human along would be irresponsible.
While Lucian was still thinking, the Drakanian woman raised her hand:
"I will go with you. Could be fun."
Lucian wanted to object, but Jarek agreed curtly:
"Fine."
"Wait. Can I at least have the big quiet Drakanian?" Lucian asked, rubbing his neck.
Jarek already drew breath to answer, but before he could speak, the Drakanian woman cut in again:
"He does not speak your language. It is better if someone comes along to whom you can give instructions in case of emergency."
Jarek tensed his jaw, showing a trace of irritation, but she ignored him.
That is why he would be more suitable, Lucian thought and sighed.
Since he hesitated, the Drakanian woman placed her hands on his back and pushed him toward the cell.
"Do not make a fuss," she said.
For a moment he dug his heels into the ground, causing them both to stop.
She noticed in surprise when Lucian looked back at her in irritation over his shoulder, while she lifted her hands in feigned defense:
"You are somehow not like paper, unlike the others."
For a heartbeat he held her gaze before exhaling slowly and stepping in front of the cell without further protest.
The two guards at the door exchanged a doubtful and tense expression before unlocking and slowly pulling open the heavy iron door at Lucian's command.
As soon as the door opened with a squeaking sound, an unnaturally strong, cutting wind swept out at the two of them. While Lucian had no time to react, the Drakanian woman jumped in front of him and blocked the doorway. Part of the wind bounced off her. She stood firm, as if only a gentle breeze had brushed past her.
The remaining wind of the attack, which she could not block with her slight build, hit Lucian with full force. He was hurled against the iron door on the opposite wall. The impact was so violent that all the air was knocked out of his lungs and he gasped for breath.
Immediately everyone around them drew their weapons and prepared to strike back, but Lucian held them back with a short hand gesture and said:
"It is fine. Do not attack."
Jarek stepped beside him and offered him his hand. While doing so he asked:
"Are you still sure he would not harm you?"
Lucian pushed away his helpful hand and struggled to his feet. His back felt as if someone had driven a nail into his spine, and a spot on the back of his head had grown warm, but luckily nothing seemed to be broken.
"Leave that to me," he hissed at him angrily, which made Jarek shake his head and step back to clear the way.
The Drakanian woman, who had just been standing in the doorway, had long since vanished. But the cell door was still open, so Lucian stormed through it.
He found the Drakanian woman pinning Kiyan against the nearest iron wall, gripping him by the collar. She must have thrown him against it with exceptional force, as the wall now showed a large dent.
Kiyan's face was smeared with blood. One of his eyes was shut, with the other he stared at her. She had raised her fist and was about to strike.
Before she could hit him again, Lucian stepped between them with lightning speed and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip. Seeing her confused expression, he made it unmistakably clear:
"That is enough."
"Why? He is a threat and he attacked first. Threats are eliminated, that is how it works," she objected, her voice trembling.
She tore herself free and took a few steps back, rubbing her wrist.
Kiyan could no longer stay on his feet and collapsed to the floor with a groan.
Lucian was about to turn toward him when the Drakanian woman behind him spoke in a voice dripping with contempt:
"I do not understand why you do not kill an Ennyr like him on the spot. They bring nothing good. They were wiped out for a reason. Maybe Yionzhna is still too good for you. I think you are more of a—"
"That is enough now," Lucian snapped at her, "you can insult me as much as you like. I do not care. But as long as you work for me, you will hold back from such remarks, understood? There is nothing I hate more than people who look down on others."
He had turned slightly toward her and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Her yellow eyes rested for a blink of an eyelash on his threatening hand, then met his again. After that she positioned herself next to the door without further resistance and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Lucian crouched down in front of Kiyan, who was still sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the wall. Kiyan's right hand rested on his left shoulder.
Through the small opening above them, faint light fell into the room. It was the only light source available to them, since fire was too dangerous.
When Lucian tried to speak to Kiyan, his breath caught for a moment. Kiyan looked worn down and entirely different from how Lucian remembered him. He was still wearing the navy blue uniform, torn and cut in several places. His hair was disheveled and hung into his pain-stricken face. His clothes were dirty, and on many spots where he had likely been injured, a dark liquid clung to the fabric. Especially on his shoulder a large, deep red stain had formed.
Lucian could not find the right words to speak to him. His first thought had been to ask whether he was alright, but the answer was obvious. Seeing a friend in such a state weighed heavily on him.
He stared at the ground, troubled. In the end it was Kiyan who broke the silence with a quiet voice:
"I am sorry for attacking you. I did not expect you. What are you of all people doing here?"
Lucian lifted his head. Kiyan did not look directly at him, only in his direction. His eyes were only half open, as if it was difficult for him to stay awake.
"They sent us to pick you up," Lucian explained hesitantly.
Tense, he intertwined his fingers. Thanks to Jarek he knew perfectly well that Kiyan's fate was already sealed. But he could not bring himself to speak that truth aloud. Even though Kiyan surely knew.
"I see," Kiyan murmured and sighed so softly it was barely audible. Then, with clenched teeth, he pushed himself up a little so he could sit straighter.
He turned his head toward Lucian and asked:
"Would you do me a favor?"
When Lucian heard the words, he froze. In a weak voice he answered:
"I cannot help you, Kiyan. My hands are tied. Please believe me. I am very sor—"
"I know," Kiyan interrupted him, "I am not asking for that. I do not want you to get into trouble. Not for me."
"What is it then?" Lucian pressed.
"I would like to know whether…" He broke off for a breath and lowered his eyes.
Lucian waited patiently until Kiyan had gathered himself again and continued quietly:
"I need to know if she is still alive."
"Who?"
"Marcy," Kiyan answered.
"The princess? Why would she not be alive?" Lucian asked, blinking quickly.
But when he saw Kiyan's pale, worried face, he added:
"Yes, of course. She is fine as far as I know. We will check on her later, then I will know more."
Kiyan exhaled in relief and murmured:
"Thank you. Could you maybe tell her something for me?"
Lucian nodded and leaned forward as Kiyan whispered the message into his ear.
When everything had been said, Lucian placed his hand on Kiyan's uninjured shoulder and assured him:
"I will tell her. I promise."
Lucian stood behind Jarek and Captain Fenn, who were positioned in front of the most heavily guarded door.
The wardens stepped aside and waited tensely for the order to open it.
The mercenaries in the back kept themselves ready for anything, and Jarek also had a hand on his weapon.
He turned his head toward Lucian and said:
"Then let us pay the infamous Flame Hunter a visit."
Curiously, Lucian lifted his chin slightly to peek past Jarek and Captain Fenn as soon as the door opened.
This part of his life as a knight was the part he liked the least, but at least it would distract him from his current emotional turmoil.
He had been wondering the whole time what this living legend might be like. Was she truly such a terrible monster, as the stories of the world wanted him to believe, or was she in the end only a misunderstood outsider, just as he himself was?