Swords of the Mourning

1. Words Unsaid

"Was it an actual goodbye this time? Or did you just avoid those words like you always do?" Harken asked leaning against the wall, taking a bite of the apple in his hand.

"It was as close a goodbye that I wanted Harken, lay off." Caelum replied as he cracked his neck. He drew his sword and assumed an attack stance, his gaze fixed on the training dummy in front of him.

"Well, I just wondered if you actually told her this was practically a suicide mission or--"Caelum interrupted him with a piercing stare, cutting off his sentence.

"If you speak another word about it, I will come over there and pull out your other tusk. Sound like a good trade to you?"

Harken took another bite of his apple, staring at Caelum blankly. "Low blow, even for you." He nodded, signaling that he wouldn't mention the subject again.

Harken Warbringer, another soldier for House Deneith. Though he was the opposite of his clan-name, more often getting hurt than hurting anyone else. Being a young half-orc would usually come with fear from others, but his distinct lack of his right tusk left people more often amused than intimidated.

Caelum laughed, glancing at Harken one more time before refocusing on the training dummy. Harken remained, watching intently as he prepared to train. Caelum struck the dummy, delivering precise blows to its wooden body. The sharp clinks of metal against wood echoed through the training yard.

Splinters flew as the wood yielded to Caelum's powerful hits, but with a final two-handed blow, the dummy's stand cracked, sending it tumbling to the ground. Caelum stared at the shattered dummy, realizing he might have struck it too hard. In an instant, pain surged through his arm, and the Dragonmark on his left arm glowed visibly through his shirt.

Swinging his head towards Harken, he raised his sword and sliced the apple in half as it flew towards his head.

Harken stood there with a grin on his face, struggling to suppress laughter. "Really? An apple, again?" Caelum asked, examining the two apple halves, and then returning his gaze to Harken.

"You know, if I had a Dragonmark I could do that too." Harken snickered.

"You'll get there eventually, brother. Maybe Baron Harric will notice your apple-throwing skills and recruit you. We could use more of that." Caelum teased as he sheathed his sword.

The two of them may not have been blood brothers, but Caelum met him when Harken joined the Deneith military. 14 years old with no family or friends left had reminded Caelum of himself, so he swore to give him the family he hadn't had as a boy. 3 years later they had lived and avoided death through so much, that they might as well have been brothers.

"I'm going to get you with it one day, I swear. Forget the Dragonmark" Harken growled, walking past Caelum towards the street. He felt a reassuring pat on his back as he passed, glancing back at Caelum.

"Be safe, brother. I'll see you tonight." Caelum nodded and smiled at him.

"Same to you, man. Try not to think about her too much. You'll only hurt yourself in the end if you refuse to say goodbye," Harken replied, receiving a somber nod before he walked away.

Caelum watched Harken leave, the turmoil within him clawing at his sanity. He shook his head and left the training grounds, walking towards the center of town.

He stopped at the temple, looking at the doors. Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth, he marched up the stairs and looked through the glass window of the door.

Inside, Elicia sat before Sehanine's statue, kneeling beside a young girl and holding her hands. Caelum's lips turned into a soft smile as he watched her. He couldn't hear their conversation, but witnessing Elicia's compassion made him happy for a fleeting moment.

Her gaze turned toward the temple's doors, and Caelum quickly turned away. He walked as fast as he could, not looking back until he reached the inn. Pushing through the door, he attempted to drown out the drunken conversations that filled the inn, making his way past the patrons and up the creaky stairs.

The door to his room slammed shut behind him. Caelum removed his belt and scabbard, placing them against the wall before sitting on the bed.

He leaned forward on the bed, trying to soothe the pain in his lower back. He removed his shirt, throwing it on the floor. Glancing at his left shoulder, the Dragonmark resembled a spiraling staircase with sharp edges. It started off simply on his shoulder, but over the years it spiraled down most of his arm, slowly reaching his elbow. He ran his finger down it, feeling the rough texture, like an aged scar.

Tonight would be his last chance to talk to Elicia, to tell her the words he had kept locked away. Taking the fortress felt like a death sentence, and he resented the fact that they would be sending young soldiers in. They were just kids, not deserving of this battle. But a good soldier followed orders.

His body burned with a storm of emotions, anger, fear, sadness. He stood up and held his left hand out, his Dragonmark began to glow, the light spiraling down the entire length.

A translucent energy field appeared before him. Gritting his teeth, he unleashed a storm of anger, driving his fist into the energy. Each punch made a shockwave throughout the energy, mirroring the pain surging through his knuckles. He swung again and again until his knuckles bled a fiery red. Yelling out a cry of pain as the energy dissipated, along with the glow of his Dragonmark.

Caelum sank onto the bed, looking at his reddened knuckles. He groaned in agony as he rubbed them, then covered his face with his hands, uttering only a few words, his voice filled with despair. "We're all going to die."