The Warden | A For Honor Fanfiction

A Lurking Shadow

She seemed so peaceful, sleeping soundly in that bed. Her hair was strewn over the pillow, her chest rising and falling softly in tune with her breathing. It was interesting to think that so much of this began thanks to her. Or had she merely been the final crack that had sent the water flowing? It didn't really matter, I could not understate her importance in all of this either way. What happened next would resonate deeper than any act before, for it needed to be deeper. I knew what had to be done.

——

It was another long night, patrolling those same barracks. As I patrolled, I considered all that had happened, and wondered what would come next. Two days had passed since my oath to rebuild the Iron Legion, but ideas about expansion and recruitment stumped me. I was a warrior and a protector, always standing on the sidelines. I was used to the authority and responsibility of being a Warden, but the potential of power was a different beast altogether. Should I approach Jotham? It had never been a problem before, speaking on behalf of a Warlord or in their good faith, but approaching as one myself? Would that not be insulting, to declare myself as one in the face of hospitality?

I didn't have answers to those questions, and I certainly didn't have anyone to ask them to. Stone's leadership had been so brief that I doubt he had much idea either, let alone wanted to consider them. Jotham was my host, asking him would only give rise to suspicions of treachery, or at the very least have us cast out. I couldn't risk that, not with Deborah still recovering. There was the elder in Herongale, but Deborah had been banished, I wouldn't abandon her for my own sake. So where was I to go?

I sighed and came to a halt, frustrated with my lack of knowledge. I was no leader, how had I not seen that? A legion couldn't flourish under me, how could they? Had I truly been so wrapped up in Stone's words that I'd forgotten? Even now, I wondered if these very thoughts made me a poor choice, but it was too late to reconsider now. I am a Warden, and a Warden's oaths are not easily broken.

I needed to take my mind off of these matters, if only for a time. Around me, the night sky was obscured by the faint outlines of clouds above, gentle sprinkles of snow falling from on high. Two small buildings lay behind me and to my right, the snow seemed to melt before it could stick to the tops of these buildings. In the courtyard, a number of tables and practice dummies had begun to turn white, albeit slowly. It was a silent night, and one that provided no distraction from my thoughts.

Sighing, I turned my attention back to the castle further behind me, its massive walls feeling much more imposing being so close to them. Torches burned brightly, illuminating just enough of the castle to reveal the tower far to the right, overlooking the town before it. Just beside that tower was one open window, the snow almost seemed to avoid it from my angle. It was a guest quarters that I'd been told was normally reserved for honored lords or warriors. Now it was Deborah's room. Her recovery was going well, if slower than any of us would have preferred.

I found my mind drifting as I considered everything she'd been through. The loss of her parents, wandering alone for years, and now injured for no fault of her own, all because of rogue knights abusing the authority entrusted to them. How many more people  had suffered from these rogues, I wondered? Herongale's people were hungry and distrustful, Morrowgale was wary of any knight with no colors, and even the lowly bandits seemed not to trust a knight's word. I supposed that if nothing else, this meant I couldn't be the worst choice for Warlord. Still, I wasn't sure it made a particularly good one.

I was about to turn away from Deborah's window to continue my patrol, when I thought I saw something move. A flash of shadow seemed to obscure the light within, if only for a moment. Before I had even fully realized I'd seen it, it was gone. I'm uncertain whether it was its proximity to my companion, or my many years spent on the road, but I felt a sense of danger radiating from that shadow. Placing one hand on my sword hilt, I slowly made my way towards the window, my eyes darting to the ledges and shadows surrounding it.