Summer Garden

Rendi

Rendi spun, drawing and tossing a dagger.

The figure that had penetrated the Garden barely reacted, already falling to their knees. The assassin stared in shock, and then rushed to his side, holding his friend. He cradled the dying man's head, looking at wonder at the wounds lacerating the man's body. Most of the cuts were shallow, from a small bladed weapon moving at speed, but several more were not. Half a dozen holes had been punched in his chest and out his back. A spear.

"First." Rendi spoke quietly, and the man raised a bloodied hand, grabbing the side of his face, "Vastras."

Rendi winced, "The mage did this to you?"

"No... Elf." The First breathed with difficulty, "Serves... Mage... Trei... Trap..."

The assassin gripped the hand of the First tightly, channelling energy into the Fae as the dust began to fade, trying to keep him conscious. "I don't understand."

"Trei... Is... Weapon..." The First gasped raggedly, the light in his eyes beginning to flicker, "You... Must... Destroy... Him..."

Then the man was gone, the hand struck the ground with a soft thump.

The assassin flinched as he felt his priorities rearranging themselves to serve his mistress. He could take no action that might be against her interests, and she was very interested in this man. It seemed all of reality had become interested in this mortal the moment he was slain.

He laid down his old commander slowly, and crossed the man's arms, and closed his eyes. A soul had been separated from the lifestream. A brave soul, who had found countless battles in service to his lord. It was this soul that had fought Hero alongside the Shadow Knight. Most believed it was this soul that had destroyed the mortal of rage that had come among them, and cleaved so many from the lifestream.

The First had always been modest, denying his role in that battle. He even went so far as to profess that the Lady Luna's skill had outstripped his own. Rendi had witnessed that skill first hand, when he had her bound, beaten and had unleashed several spellviruses against her. Every fibre of her soul and flesh had been infected, and she should have fallen. Should have died or succumbed to his efforts, yet she had remained unbroken. Her mind had remained clear, and free from trauma. That woman may well have been the only soldier who could outstrip the strength of the First.

The First had always lain at the right hand of Janus. They had been friends once, early in the days of the Fae. Where Janus lead, the First had followed. He had loved the man who had become his master, and had given all that he had for the meaning that lay in that loyalty. Whilst Janus had grown cold and old, interested in power and strength, the man who had been his soulmate had remained ever hopeful that the one he loved would return to him. He had served unquestioningly, destroying so many for a bitter soul that had long since lost itself to hate and envy. The life of the soul that had lost was a tragic one, full of sound and fury, but in the end signifying nothing. He would be lost, and forgotten. He had left no footprints in the sand that would not be washed away by the hateful memories of the one he had served.

Rendi clenched a fist, bowing his head as he fought against his emotions. His chest was heaving. He felt if he was burning up with anger, but it had nowhere to be directed. None of this should have ever happened in the first place. Today he had lost not just a friend, but a mentor. A hero that he had worshipped. Over so many lifetimes, when Rendi had stood uncertainly with a dagger in hand, it had been the grey-eyed gaze of that grizzled old warrior that had hardened him.

A whimper cut the silence, and the Fae glanced up in surprise.

The blonde-haired Faeling was standing there, eyes wide, her bottom lip quivering.

Rendi swallowed nervously, holding up his hands slowly, "It's okay, Astrian."

He flinched as the Faeling tossed back her head and wailed, the high pitch screech drilling a hole somewhere deep inside his skull. He took a step towards her, and the Faeling turned and sprinted away, still screaming.

He sighed heavily.