The sound of Krau's boots echoed on the cobblestones as he crossed the large esplanade of the Church's main bastion. The sky was clear, with a warm sun that had nothing to do with the shadows he carried on his shoulders. His back still burned from the fifty lashes he had received that morning, but he didn't care. The pain was part of his body, like fatigue or the old scar on his eyebrow.
Corvus, his former teacher, walked silently beside him. No one stopped or greeted them. They were ghosts crossing a land that once belonged to them. Now, Krau was just an uncomfortable memory for the order.
"I thought after six years you would have aged more," Corvus said without looking at him. "But you're still just as unpleasant."
"And you're just as insistent," replied Krau, without stopping. "Are you really so afraid that Ezxi will ruin this assignment that you came looking for me?"
Corvus did not answer immediately. They reached the outer wing of the bastion where the novices and apprentices were housed. There, standing next to a column, a young woman was waiting.
She had light hair tied back in a braid and large, attentive eyes. She wore a simple brown robe, dusty from the journey. She held a small bag and looked at Krau with restrained curiosity. Unlike other young novices, she did not lower her gaze before him.
"This is Liria," said Corvus in a neutral voice. "Your assignment. You will escort her to the elven kingdom of Eliy."
Krau looked her up and down without dissimulation, then snorted.
"A child," he muttered. "I was expecting to carry a box of relics or a sealed letter. Not this."
"It's not an option. It's an order," Corvus replied harshly. "And you'd better not open your mouth any more than necessary."
Liria stepped forward, her voice firm.
"I can introduce myself, thank you. I am Liria. Second circle novice. The Great Corvus assigned me this mission personally."
Krau raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Such formality for someone who won't make it to the border alive if she keeps talking like that."
Corvus interrupted the exchange with a wave of his hand.
"Enough. Krau, you have everything you need. A letter of recommendation for the border posts. Permission to pass. And money for the journey..."
Krau looked at him.
"I forgot to stop by the armory and the treasury. What a tragedy."
Corvus pressed his lips together wearily.
"Then use your wits. As always."
Liria looked from one to the other with growing discomfort.
"Are we leaving today?" she asked.
Krau turned to her.
"You don't decide when we leave. I do. And first I need a decent beer before taking a talking burden to the elven forest."
Liria frowned but did not reply.
"The market tavern is open at this hour," Corvus muttered. "Go there and get ready. Tomorrow at dawn you must cross the south gate."
Krau nodded halfheartedly.
"As you wish, master."
Without another word, Corvus turned and disappeared into the corridors of the bastion. Krau sighed and set off without looking at Liria.
"Follow me. And don't speak unless necessary."
She followed him in silence.
The tavern was half empty at that hour. A couple of sleepy merchants were drinking beer, a couple of soldiers were eating stale bread.
Krau slumped down on a wooden bench by the window.
"Two mugs," he ordered the bartender. "And food. Whatever you have that won't kill me."
Liria sat across from him, primly, her hands on her knees.
"You don't have paladin armor," she observed suddenly.
Krau didn't look at her.
"I'm not a paladin. I left that behind years ago."
"But Master Corvus said you were one of the best."
Krau let out a short, humorless laugh.
"He says a lot of things."
The innkeeper brought beer and some stew. Krau ate slowly. Liria barely touched hers.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
She shook her head.
"I'm fine."
A few minutes passed in silence.
"Why you?" Krau finally asked. "Why a novice to the forest of Eliy?"
Liria looked down.
"They didn't tell me. Only that I had to accompany you. That the elves... will know what to do with me."
"Mysterious," Krau muttered. "Like everything in this damn church."
He looked out the window.
"Do you have money?"
"Some. For travel expenses."
Krau grunted.
"I forgot to pick mine up at the bastion." At least someone is thinking.
Liria stared at him.
"You don't seem to want this mission."
"Because I don't," he admitted shamelessly. "I hate escorting children. I hate owing Corvus favors. I hate walking to the forest of Eliy. But it's either that or more lashes."
She remained silent.
The tavern door creaked open, letting in a gust of air and dust. A couple of merchants entered, talking in low voices, but nothing disturbed the lazy calm of the place.
Krau continued to drink his beer, unhurried. Liria, sitting across from him, barely touched the rim of her mug with her fingers. The silence between them was thick and uncomfortable.
"Are you always this... quiet?" she finally asked, breaking the stillness.
Krau raised an eyebrow, without looking at her.
"It depends on the company."
Liria frowned.
"Was that a compliment or an insult?"
"It was an answer," he said, taking another sip.
Silence again.
Liria clenched her jaw, uncomfortable.
"I thought paladins were more... I don't know... heroic. More willing to talk to people."
Krau let out a short, dry laugh.
"I stopped being a paladin years ago."
She fidgeted with the jug, restless.
"Why?"
He didn't answer. He just glanced at her sideways.
"It doesn't matter," he added dismissively.
"It does matter. I want to know who I'm traveling with," she insisted. "I'm not stupid. I know you're not doing this out of kindness."
Krau set the jug gently on the table, without looking at her.
"That's the most sensible thing you've said today."
She swallowed hard.
"Then why did you agree to escort me? You don't seem like the type to do favors."
Krau looked up, his eyes dull.
"Because Corvus asked me to. Because I'd rather do this than rot in a cell. And because someone has to make sure you don't end up dead before you get to wherever you're going."
"So I'm a burden."
Krau shrugged.
"You're a job."
Liria looked down, biting her lower lip.
Several minutes passed in silence, interrupted only by the murmur of the tavern and the clinking of mugs.
Then she asked, in a low, direct voice:
"Have you killed many people?"
Krau looked at her straight on, unsurprised, but with his usual indifference.
"Yes."
"Innocents?"
Krau held her gaze for a moment longer.
"Everyone is innocent to someone."
Liria paled slightly.
"Do you regret it?"
For a moment, the silence weighed heavier than ever.
"No." Krau took another drink, emptied the mug, and set it down on the table without haste. "Regret doesn't bring anything back."
She looked away, biting her tongue to keep from asking more questions.
The murmur of the tavern enveloped them again, heavy and gray.
"We leave at dawn tomorrow," Krau finally said, getting up. "Eat well. I don't know when you'll have hot food again."
Liria nodded silently, looking down at her almost untouched plate.
"You don't have to pretend you care," she murmured.
"I'm not pretending," he replied, turning toward the door. "If you die on the way, I'll have to carry a corpse all the way to Eliy. That weighs more than a living novice."
A bitter snort escaped Liria, but she said nothing more.
Krau paid the bill with a few coins tossed on the counter and left without looking back.
Night fell over the city, and with it, the weight of unanswered questions.
That night, at the inn, Liria lay awake for a long time, lost in her thoughts. The stillness of the room was barely interrupted by the creaking of old wood in the night wind.
When she finally closed her eyes, dreams enveloped her with confusing images: figures of ash emerged from nowhere, deformed, monstrous. And beyond them, a group of people—many of them—bowed before her as if worshipping her, their faces hidden in the shadows. Her body moved on its own, without her will, approaching a large stone door, heavy, imposing...
She woke up with a start, gasping, cold sweat sticking to her forehead.
Dawn was just peeking through the window. Liria sat on the cot, frowning at the dim light.
"What was that...?" she murmured, uneasy.
But there was no answer. Only the silence of the morning...