Hedge Knight

Jahora watched as Jorge emerged from his home. The man was large, possessing a farmer’s build with broad shoulders and stocky legs. It would be intimidating in some aspects, were it not for the presence of the armed group that stood in front of him. He tried to appear casual by leaning against his door and crossing his arms, but his narrowed eyes betrayed the caution that he felt.

Not fear.

Not guilt.

Caution.

Jahora clenched her jaw, but held the tirade that was burning at the back of her throat. Her eyes drifted to the shack that lay behind the house, taking note of the holes on its roof, the cracks along the rotting wood that made its walls. To call the building destitute would be an understatement, and she could feel her hands grow numb as her fists continued to tighten. This was no place to live.

Just like that building so long ago.

“You had questions?” Jorge asked. His tone was deep, with a gravely quality to it.

Ren stepped forward from the group, “Yes. We’ve been privy to a number of tales around town,” he motioned towards behind Jorge’s house, “those of a girl who brings with her an unnatural amount of cold. Can you confirm this?”

Jorge’s eyebrow twitched, “Yes, what of it?” there was a distinct edge to his voice that flared the fire in Jahora’s chest, but she continued to hold her tongue.

“Well, beyond generalities the townsfolk were rather mum on the details. Who better to ask than the girl’s father?”

The farmer’s jaw clenched, “That thing is no child of mine.”

A chill swept over them, one that brought gooseflesh to Jahora’s skin as silence washed over him. She knew this feeling, knew that there was only one person that was capable of causing it.

She looked back to Helbram, who remained still; face emotionless but eyes fixed on the farmer in front of them. Such was the intensity of his gaze that she could hear the door behind Jorge creak as he pressed himself further against it. Leon looked back towards the warrior, hand halfway to his sword, the movement more out of instinct rather than intent. The Black Cloak dropped his hand when he saw that Helbram did not move. 

Jahora remained still herself, the chill of Helbram’s anger enough for her to momentarily control the fire of her own. Elly looked to both Jahora and Helbram, her golden eyes searching, the usual calculative expression on her face, but there was a slight tremble to the Weaver’s arm as her hand clutched at it. Leaf was far less subtle with his emotions, the disgust clear on his face as he looked upon Jorge, but he held his usual sharp tongue.

Ren cleared his throat, “Regardless, I believe you are the most qualified to answer our questions at this time. When did she begin to display these abilities?”

Jorge didn’t take his eyes from Helbram, “From birth. My wife lost her life in the process, and before that she would always say she felt cold no matter what season it was.”

Ren raised his eyebrows, but betrayed nothing else, “I see… and since her birth has she displayed any… oddities in behavior?”

“One’s that are not the result of a lifetime of shunning,” Leaf spat.

Jorge turned to the archer, his mouth opening to say something, but closing as Helbram’s gaze continued to bore into him.

The farmer gulped, “She showed no behavior at all. She would sleep, eat, and then stare at the sky all day. That is, until a month ago.”

“When the Chosen arrived,” Leon said.

Jorge nodded, “Yes… after that she started to act more… active.”

Ren tapped his chin, “I see… and since she has been more active, have there been any oddities that you have noticed beyond that?”

Jorge shook his head.

“Are you certain?” Jahora asked, unable to hold her words any longer, “Or have you even cared enough to notice?”

She wanted to see guilt on the farmer’s face, but Jorge instead responded with a glare.

“You know n-”

“I do not care,” Helbram said, his voice even but with a weight behind it that stilled Jorge’s lips. He tilted his head to Ren, “continue to answer his questions, and we will leave. Any more beyond that is not needed.”

Jorge stared at him, but said nothing else.

Ren scratched his head, “Right then… since the Chosen’s arrival, the cold around her started to lessen, yes?”

The farmer nodded.

Ren rubbed his chin, “I see… and is she home?”

Jorge crossed his arms again, “I don’t know.”

“Such care,” Leaf said, “Consider me shocked.”

Jorge clenched his jaw, but only looked to the ground.

Ren’s shoulders rose and fell as he let out a subtle sigh, “With your permission, we would like to take a look.”

The farmer opened his door, “Do as you please.”

The frame shook as he slammed the door.

Ren started to turn to Helbram.

“I am well aware gathering information requires a certain amount of tact,” Helbram said before the Cleric could speak, “He was not deserving of it,” he met Ren’s eyes, “Not a drop.”

Ren sighed, the breath filled with an exasperation that slumped his shoulders, “Let’s just continue the investigation.”

The party followed the Black Cloaks as they passed through the fence’s gate. Jahora’s eye scanned the fields, searching for any signs of the girl, but finding none. Her eyes did look back to Jorge's house, where she saw the curtains of one of the windows to be slightly shifted. A slender hand grasped at them, but disappeared once Jahora’s attention was focused in its direction.

“Jorge has two other children, correct?” the Mage asked as she looked back to the fields.
Helbram nodded, “According to Erik, yes. An eldest daughter and a son,” he tapped his chin, “I believe they are all only a year apart, with the girl being the youngest.”

“I wonder how they feel about her treatment…” Leaf muttered.

“I imagine it is normal to them,” Elly said in a dour tone, “As unfortunate as it is they have most likely mimicked their father’s behavior, otherwise I cannot imagine she would be in such destitute conditions.”

Jahora turned to the Black Cloaks, “Is this normal in your investigations?”

Ren shook his head, “Normally we would catch the signs early… then again our influence is thin within the Freemarks, to say the least.”

“Non-existent,” Leon said, “Were it not for our current mark we most likely would not have traveled so long. Our search began in Voltun and we’ve been following them since.”

Helbram’s eyebrows raised, “They must be quite the threat if you were adamant on pursuing them so far.”

“If we speak in terms of strength, then no,” Leon said, “Their power lies within subtly, the ability to mask the presence of themselves, and others, from detection.”

“Though they have been sloppy recently,” Ren added, “Left just enough of their traces for us to continue our pursuit, bloodhounds as we are.”

“Yes,” Leon agreed, “it would suggest that they were in some sort of rush, though I could not fathom for what.”

“Do we have a description of them?” Helbram asked, “Just in case we happen to cross their path.”

Ren shook his head, “Unfortunately not, magic has been our guide so far and even that has run cold with the season,” he sighed, “a bit irksome, given the months we’ve spent in pursuit.”

Leon shrugged, “Such is the nature of our profession,” his eyes narrowed at the shack as they drew closer to it, “though our journey may not be for naught.”

Jahora’s brow furrowed at his statement, but as she drew closer to the shack realization raised her eyebrows.

Winter in the Freemarks generally held a tolerable cold, one that could be managed by flame and coat. Inconvenient and slow to travel in, but manageable nonetheless.

This was far more severe.

The cold bit through her coat, numbing her skin and sprouting gooseflesh across her arms. Her fingers started to shake as shivers overtook her, and the once light mists of her breath had turned to fog. She stepped back from the chill out of instinct, returning to Winter’s natural embrace, its touch almost warm in comparison. Leaf had an identical reaction to her, but Elly and Helbram remained in place, with only the mildest of shivers betraying the cold’s effects on them. 

Shaking her head, the Mage channeled Aether into her eyes, her purple irises glowed as the power took hold, and she could only gasp as her vision started to focus. The Aether around the shack was an overwhelming amount of pale blue, a color associated with Ice based magicks. Specks of red, yellow, and even green Aether were present as well, but lay smothered by the mass of blue that swallowed it. She looked to Elly, who held her chin as her eyes scanned around the area, eyes aglow with the same enchantment that Jahora granted herself.

“Curious…” Elly said in a calm tone, though a slight tremble rang through it, “This density of Aether is not common without the aid of a powerful focus or magical device, yet I cannot trace any such thing nearby.”

“Tis because this is not the result of such items,” Leon said, “This is the work of a Shade.”

The man spoke with a finality that brought dread to the pit of Jahora’s stomach.

Ren nodded, “As much as I would like to refrain from coming to such quick conclusions, there is little other explanation.”

“How would a Shade be responsible for this?” Helbram asked

Ren walked up to the shack’s door, “It is due to their nature. Beings of incredible might and magics, but the majority possess little means to control it,” the Cleric knocked on the door, rubbing his chin when no one answered, “As a result their powers tend to… leak out, unintentionally forcing their own nature to be dominant over the world’s.”

“The effect is not permanent,” Leon added as he walked up to join his companion, both showed no signs of being affected by the cold, “but it will linger for quite some time the longer a Shade remains in one place.”

He knocked on the door. No one responded.

The Black Cloak waited for a moment before placing his hand against the door and giving it a slight shove. It opened without issue, its hinges letting out a piercing squeak as the insides of the shack were revealed.

Jahora moved forwards then, snapping her fingers to produce a small flame at her palm that she aimed to use more for warmth than illumination. The fire was snuffed out as she walked into the cold, the condensed pale Aether smothering its warm touch and replacing it with the bite of its chill across her skin once again. The Mage shook her head and tried to ignore the sensation as best as possible before moving to the shack. The others did the same, though Leaf muttered audible curses behind them he kept his hands secured under his armpits.

Leon and Ren had already made their way inside the shack, examining the interior from top to bottom. Worn, rotted wood looked to be near the point of splintering underneath the Black Cloak’s boots, but the two moved with a surprising amount of deftness as they examined the interior. Jahora spotted a number of broken crates and barrels on one side of the room, and her eyes were drawn to the rays of sunlight that beamed through the holes of the building’s roof. Small bundles of cloth sat where the sun shone down upon, laid on top of a sheet that itself was used to cover the patch of dirt beneath.

Ren knelt down and picked up one of the pieces, his finger slipping through one of its many holes.

“None of these could even hold a passing semblance to a blanket…” the Cleric said in a somber tone.

Despite the cold, Jahora could feel her face grow hot as she looked around the shack. Her anger cleared her vision in this instance, making the dilapidation of the building all the more prominent in her mind. The boards along the walls were cracked, some even frayed enough that simply brushing up against one would no doubt result in countless splinters. The sole window to the building was cracked, and as she looked up to the hole in the roof she knew that it was only a stiff wind aware from falling apart entirely. This was no place to live.

For anyone.

“Such power…” Leon said, more to himself than the party of his companion.

Ren nodded, “Very much so, and given the cold that threatens to smother us… it would be surprising if she was not a Shade.”

“What will you do?” Johora asked.

“For now, we will return to the Tavern,” Ren said, “depending on how strong the Chosen’s seal is, we have a few options to consider, but it is difficult to be definitive if we have yet to evaluate her first.”

“The options, what are they?” Jahora asked.

Ren stood up and looked around the shack, “The first, should the Chosen’s seal remain intact and prove to be long lasting, is that we move her to more acceptable accommodations,” started to walk outside, “our resources should be adequate enough to provide her with a new home… but I say that as if it is a simple affair,” he sighed, “while there are families out there that would be more than happy to take in a new child, the amount that would accept a Shade are few and far between, even if her powers are sealed.”

Leon nodded, “Indeed, it would be unjust of us to hide her abilities from families as well,” a dark look came over his eyes, “a Shade’s abilities are more than just mere complications to raising a child.”

“Which leads to our second option,” Ren walked out of the shack, with his companion and the party following, “to take her with us and accept her into our order.”

They crossed the threshold of the biting chill, and Jahora let out a breath that she did not know she was holding, “What does that entail?” she asked.

Ren scratched his chin, “That is also something that depends on the state of the seal, and her own ambitions,” he turned to Jahora, “but we can provide her with shelter, and education while she makes her choice.”

“What if the seal is failing?” Helbram asked.

“Then this option remains,” Ren answered, “we would have to be more expeditious in bringing her back to the order, and we would need to keep a much closer eye on her, but her overall treatment will remain the same.”

“And if it is broken entirely?” Elly asked.

Ren sighed, “Again, this option does remain, but from what I have seen…” he looked back to the shack, “there is a high chance that she would lose control of her abilities, fall victim to the shattered whims of her previous life and go berserk. We, of course, would try to subdue such outbursts, but I cannot guarantee that we will succeed, and in such cases…”

“Elimination,” Leon said, the weight of his voice like lead on Jahora’s shoulders.

Jahora felt her chest grow hot as her eyes flared. The Black Cloak met her eyes, gaze unflinching.

“I don’t believe it will come to that,” Ren quickly said, “given that it was a Chosen, one blessed by all the gods no less, that established the seal I have little doubt that it will hold well.”

Jahora said nothing.

“Well it would do us no good to linger here for the time being,” Helbram said, “We’ve been told by Erik that she tends to approach the tavern from time to time, perhaps we would have a better opportunity to evaluate her there.”

Ren nodded, “Indeed,” he looked to all of them, “I assure you that we want no harm to come to her, that is our priority,” he focused on Jahora as he said those last words.

She wanted to believe him, to accept what he said and leave that anxiety in her chest behind, but she couldn’t.

She’d heard such words before.

The Mage only gave him a slight nod.

“We will head back first,” Ren said in a lighthearted tone, “We have been on the road for quite some time and I must admit I am quite eager for the comforts of the hearth.”

“Understandable,” Helbram said, “we shall meet you there.”

The Black Cloaks split from them as they made their way out of Jorge’s fields. Jahora looked back to the shack as they left, phantoms of the cold surrounding it prickling her skin. More than that, however, was the pain that she felt in her chest when she imagined the girl within, all alone, without even a blanket to cover her.

“It’s not right,” Leaf said.

Helbram sighed, “No, no it is not.”

“I have half a mind to drag that bastard out of his house and give him a taste of what he’s subjected her to,” the archer said through grit teeth.

Helbram placed a hand on Leaf’s shoulder, “And I share such sentiment, but I am afraid such actions will do little beyond drawing the town’s ire,” his eyes narrowed, “given how long they all have accepted such conditions for her, I am afraid that most will not be on our side.”

Elly crossed her arms, “Indeed, the moment that they begin to treat her like one of them is the moment that they admit that they were wrong, that what they thought was a monster is nothing more than a little girl, and I don’t believe any of them want to bear the weight of twelve years of negligence.”

“Then what can we do?” Jahora said, frustration clear in her tone.

Helbram rubbed his brow, “For now, we can only follow the Black Cloaks’ lead. This problem is not one we can solve with spell and sword, unfortunately.”

He made way towards the road, “but I do not wish to linger for the time being, let us get back to town, decidedly less welcoming as it is…”

The party followed after him, silent as their boots knocked against the worn dirt path beneath them. Jahora felt herself in a trance, unable to focus on any particular thought as all the information from today flowed through her mind. There was so much to consider, so much that she still did not know, and every step she took made her thoughts muddled further.

A snap cut through the veil of silence around the party, its direction from the forest that surrounded them. They turned their heads to the direct of the sound, and Jahora could see the briefest glimpse of hair between the trees.

White hair.

“Leaf, Jahora,” Helbram nodded towards the trees, keeping his voice low, “Me and Elly will follow from a distance.”

Nodding, the Mage and archer ran into the forest. Jahora let Leaf take the lead as his irises glowed with a soft red color. Her size allowed her to remain relatively silent as they moved through the woods, whereas Leaf slipped through the foliage with a mix of the grace granted to him by his half-elven ancestry and own personal expertise as a hunter. Jahora could not find sight of the girl beyond the first glimpse, but Leaf somehow kept them moving, his eyes narrowing at things in the distance that she did not see, ears twitching at noises she did not hear. Their pursuit ran long enough that Jahora could feel her breath grow heavy, but she pressed on. She had to.

Leaf eventually stopped, holding out a hand to halt Jahora as well as the Mage continued to barrel forwards. She looked at him with a mix of impatience and confusion.

“We don’t want to approach her too fast,” Leaf whispered, “it’s just going to make her run again.”

He tilted his head forward and Jahora followed his eyes, seeing that a clearing lay off in the distance. The two approached the edge of the clearing slowly, steps silent as they could be. The girl was in the middle of the clearing, laying flat on the ground, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Jahora felt a pang of guilt at the sight, only emphasized as she looked upon the girl’s emaciated face and frame. Despite her ragged breaths, she was not shivering, showing no signs of being affected by Winter’s touch.

Leaf removed his coat and placed it in Jahora’s hands. They shared a knowing look and the Mage stepped into the clearing, pushing through the foliage as it crackled around her. The girl’s head turned to her, eyes widening in fear as she pushed herself from the ground, but was unable to find the strength to get to her feet. Jahora held her hands up, coat resting on her shoulder as she slowly started to approach the girl.

“It’s alright,” she said in a soft tone, “I only wish to help.”

The girl scrambled back with her arms, a tremble in her voice as she whimpered.

“I won’t hurt you,” Jahora said, “you don’t have to worry.”

The Mage lowered her hands, palms facing upwards as two rings of Aether appeared around her head. The sight of them gave the girl momentary pause, allowing Jahora to continue her spell. It was a minor one, a simple concentration of the Red Aether that lingered in the air around them. The air around her felt noticeably colder as the red energy gathered into a small orb at the palm of her hand, radiating a more concentrated heat into her palms, like she was warming her hands at a campfire.

The girl, entranced by the sight of the spell, stayed still as she fixated on the red orb. Jahora pushed the ball of heat from her hands towards the girl. She flinched away at first, but as its glow met her skin she stopped, eyes widening in both surprise and further confusion. Her hand reached towards the orb, fingers wrapping around it as she pulled it closer to her. For a moment, she was still, her breaths noticeably calmer as she clutched the orb in her hands. She held it close to her chest, her body trembling.

When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

Jahora blinked rapidly to keep her vision from blurring and started to approach the girl. She kept her movements slow and when she was finally next to the girl, she did not run away.

“It’s ok,” Jahora said as she wrapped the coat around the girl.

“You’re safe.”

Author's Note: The group has finally made contact, it took a bit of time to get here but I felt like it was better to establish the other characters in this arc first just so I have a good foundation to build off on. There was also a lot of discussion in this chapter, which was intentional as I wanted Ren and Leon to be differentiated from the typical "secret faction" agents that you will see in stories. While them being so open about their plans eliminates some of the mystery surrounding their order, I felt like the Black Cloaks in general wouldn't really fall into the "secretive" mold anyways, and their purpose can really only be achieved by being relatively transparent. From here I do plan on spending a bit more time developing all of the characters I’ve shown so far, so this arc as a whole may be a bit slower in its pace compared to the others, though I still don't plan on making it as long as The Sword of Promise.  Let me know if it feels to draggy though! Always wanna find a good balance to make sure this remains entertaining for all of you.

Till next time! Have yourselves a wonderful day :)