-Steelheart Saga-

Chapter III - Bread & Circuses

Following the defeat of the Dark King and his minions, the five Knights sent by the Kristenalian Guard freed the surviving townspeople of Grayhold, then escorted them to the Knight encampment. The infantry arrived at dawn and the present Knights cheered for Krysté and company's safe return. The men soaked up the adoration but the Elven warrior marched forward, never breaking stride. Krysté stopped at the round table, where Captain Ulrich sat, rifling through various reports.
"Captain." Krysté addressed her superior, already at attention.
"What is it?" He grumbled, then noticed it was Krysté. He perked up, dropping the papers and focusing on the Elven woman. "Oh, you're back! And with all your men accounted for, I see. What'd I tell you, Private? Looks like you've got a future in leadership after all. Hell, give it a couple years and you'll have my job, ha!"
"Thank you, sir, but I'm not interested in advancement, only the mission." Said Krysté.
"So you tell me." He smiled. "These must be the citizens of Grayhold?"
"That's right, sir. They'll be needing—"
"Relocation, right?" The Captain sighed. "The Royal City's going to have a refugee crisis at this rate. Elnard, give 'em the tour. We'll sort them out."
Sir Elnard salutes. "Sir." He took his leave, guiding the people of Grayhold around the camp as instructed.
"Now then." The Captain proceeded. "You boys did some fine work out there. You're dismissed, gentlemen. Private Krysté, have a seat."
Krysté pulled up a seat as commanded, then waited for the others to disperse before turning back to the Captain. "Is there a problem, sir?"
"Not exactly." Captain Ulrich answered. "I'm afraid you're being reassigned."
"What?" Krysté asked. "But I'm needed here, sir."
"I know, Private, but I'm afraid I've got no say in it." Said Captain Ulrich. "Some noble up in the Royal City seems to think you're more valuable elsewhere."
Krysté shot out of her chair, slamming both hands down on the table. "That's preposterous! The demons are out here! I didn't sign up to babysit some noble brats!"
"No, you signed up to follow orders, Private." The Captain stood, dwarfing the steamed Elf. "That's exactly what you've been given. An order."
"Sir?" Krysté backed down.
The Captain paced around, hands on his hips. "I know. It's not fair. You're a capable Knight and that's exactly what we need." He faced the Elven warrior. "You leave on the morrow. I'm afraid this will be your last night at this post."
Krysté dropped down into her seat, staring at the wooden table. "...Understood, sir."
"Dismissed."

. . .

Krysté sat at the campfire, having warmed the slightly burnt lizard she'd caught in the Toxic Rot. She was chewing her meal when Adlebert, Steinholm, and Greyson sat around her with skewered meat cuts. "Ah, the demon slayer 'erself!" Said Sir Steinholm. "Didn't think you'd lose us that easy, did ye?"
"What do you all want?" Krysté asked, her face blank.
"Don't be like that! You're our commander, right? Might as well eat with the troops, eh?" Said Sir Greyson.
"I eat alone." Krysté stated.
"No tonight ye don't." Sir Adlebert chuckled. "Such a grouchy little elf, y'know that?"
"I always wondered how that stick got so far up ye arse." Said Sir Elnard. "No offense, ma'am."
"It's not ma'am." Krysté scowled. "We're off duty, and we're the same rank. My name is Krysté."
"Well, it's a silly name, innit, ma'am?" Sir Elnard teased.
"It means virtue." Krysté corrected, then took a bit out of her roasted lizard.
Sir Steinholm smirked. "Still clinging to those ancient Elven traditions. It's adorable the way you cling to your dead race."
"Do I seem dead to you?" She shot a death glare at Steinholm.
"Maybe on the inside, just a bit." He said. "You're the meanest woman I've ever met, you know that? Ever kissed a boy, Krysté? Or worn a frilly dress? Picked flowers?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" She asked, her eyebrows low.
"See, that's my point, wouldn't know, would ye?" Steinholm answered. "You'd make a poor wife, is all."
"Then it's fortunate I've no engagement." The Elf took another bite of her lizard, chewing as the Knights watched her in silence.
Adlebert snickered. "Tis a shame. Despite it all, you're quite pretty."
"Like I asked." She shot back while chewing.
"Ah, leave it boys." Said Sir Greyson. "Seems the last of the Elves has got no concept of such things."
"Alright, but I've got a question." Said Elnard. "Why is it you lug that hideous, cumbersome sword around? You're aware a broadsword is standard, yes?"
Krysté swallowed, then cleared her throat. "It wasn't built for combat. It's a hunting blade."
"Really? That massive thing?" Sir Elnard raised an eyebrow. "Seems a bit overkill to me."
"Not animal hunting, you ape." She clutched her weapon's hilt. "My people were exceptional monster hunters. We lived in nature, among the wood and sky, not sheltered within stone walls like you Humes."
"Right, and look who's still standing." Aldebert remarked, only to be jabbed by Steinholm. "What?"
"We had to defend our homes from the wandering beasts of the land." Krysté continued. "I was chosen to be a hunter. The adults recognized my talents at an early age."
"But you're not a hunter anymore, are you?" Elnard asked. "So why carry around the bloody thing? Doesn't it slow you down against the demons?"
"Because one does not abandon the Blod'ven." She said. "It's a symbol of the weight you carry. It represents the responsibility you have as a wielder of this blade. Your duties to others. The ones you've sworn to protect. Abandoning it would be abandoning my responsibility, and I am not a coward."
Steinholm scoffed. "Sharp ear gibberish! Your people's ways never made any sense."
Krysté glanced at the large Knight. "Tis a mutual feeling. I think the same of you Humes. The way you sacrifice each other to the unholy. The value you place on coin. How you only ever seem to serve your own interests and leave your own blood to wither and die for some metal tokens." She shook her head. "You all seem so selfish. So unwilling to sacrifice. Yet, you survive. Demons are one thing, but I think it is Humes who are the most ruthless of all creatures."
"Really now? If that's how ye feel, how come you joined our legion?" Asked Sir Adlebert.
"Because to cull the demons, I too must become ruthless." Said Krysté, locking eyes with Adlebert. "My life is no longer my own. If my people are to survive, we need conviction. We must stop at nothing to achieve our goals." She sat back, gazing up at the stars. Somehow, they seemed to shine extra brightly. "If a generation from now, Elven children run free in their woods, unburdened and safe, I will have served my purpose in this world, and I believe I shall promptly vanish from it if the day ever comes."
Elnard nodded, but Steinholm scoffed. "Aren't you something?" He derided.
"Forget about it." Krysté said. "This is the last night you'll see me. I've been re-assigned to Vincia." She chowed down on what was left of the lizard as the men cooked their meat cuts over the kindling flame.
"Still..." Sir Elnard began. "Wasn't all bad, right lads? Slayed some demons together, saved some civs. All in all, we weren't a bad team, eh?"
"Suppose so." Adlebert agreed.
Krysté belched, then beat her chest. "Goodnight, and farewell." She stood, then returned to her tent.