Aenon

The morning after brought with it a sense of clarity and peace. The rest was required, in more ways than one. As Aenon tried to get up, he felt the familiar hold of tiny hands. If not for his advanced stats, Talia would have choked him in his sleep. He gently pried the girl's hands off him, and rolled over to escape. When he stood up, he saw that everyone was asleep exactly where they were last night. He was about to sneak out to relieve himself but froze suddenly.

Aenon ran his fingertips along his forehead. There was a weird tingling sensation on the spot, like the touch of an icy surface. But there was more to it. Somehow. He rubbed the area gently, but the feeling lingered. It wasn't coming from his skin.

Unsure of what it was, he shook his head and quickly went about his business. Once he was done, he walked over to a designated training area and started some stretches. It took him almost half an hour for the warmup. Even though he didn't sweat as easily, his joints felt loose enough for the actual workout.

He started doing some shadow boxing, imagining an army of enemies he had to cut down. There was no form or rhythm to his fighting style. It was a hodge podge of attacks he had clubbed together based on the subtle nudges from his weapons Skill, and his own instincts.

Something his silent observer aptly pointed out.

"More beast than man," Ignar commented while leaning on a tree with his arms folded.

There was a ferocious grin on the berserker's face. The judgment was not a taunt. On the contrary, the man seemed oddly proud of Aenon's fighting style.

"Care to join in for a spar?" Aenon asked.

The warrior's grin broadened as he walked over, removing his armor to showcase his bulging muscle. In response, Aenon too removed his shirt, exposing his lithe figure. The scars from the Ant Monarch remained, matching the lifetime's worth of injuries of his sparring partner.

The two fighters circled each other; observing quietly. But just as suddenly, the two charged at each other in an engagement of pure instinct. Neither of their fighting techniques were developed or studied from books or training. They were forged in real life or death struggles. Each blow was aimed to kill; each counter fine tuned to dodge with a hair's breadth.

The major flaw of their technique was that there was no one to guide them. No teacher to correct improper muscle memories, or poor posture. They had to do it themselves, all the while skirting the borders of annihilation. And yet, it had a huge advantage too. The style that was born from it would be inherently their own. And it would be a style aimed at one purpose: Wreaking havoc on the battlefield.

They met blow for blow, neither holding back in the slightest. Yet Aenon found himself pressed onto the back foot. Ignar's experience bled through every movement. And with the Berserker already at the S-grade threshold, level ninety-nine, even their stats weren't far apart. Unless Aenon figured out how to safely release his multiplier, he had no edge.

The sound of their clash must have reached the others, since an audience soon gathered. Ignar hadn't used his Berserker's form, but this was just a spar anyway. The workout left both breathless and sweating. Even so, both combatants had wide grins plastered on their faces. The spar ended with them both collapsing to the ground. Not completely exhausted, but out of breath. Towards the end even Henry had joined in, watching the tail end of the friendly duel.

"The last time I felt this," Aenon said between gulps of air. "Was with Bane."

Aenon noticed the Abyssal Wolf puffing out its chest, proud that he had managed to reach a draw in their first ever clash.

Ignar's chest heaved, but his answering grin was genuine. "Matching a Berserker blow for blow—while under leveled, and with a mage subclass? You are something else, Lord Fenrast."

The praise was genuine, as was the applause from Talia. The berserker's team too had various degrees of shock and awe. Aenon hadn't gotten to show off his physical prowess during the last fight.

Talia rushed in, giddy with excitement. "Can I fight like that one day too?"

Aenon felt everyone's heart clench in sorrow, but no one said anything. No one present here wanted to see the child go down that path.

"We will see, little one," Aenon said tactfully before rubbing her head affectionately. "You will need to grow big and strong for that."

Talia giggled merrily, before her attention was snatched by a stray butterfly. Like a fleeting storm, she vanished into the tree line. Nothing could harm the kid while within Nocthrya's care.

The group dispersed one by one, getting on with their own morning routines. The spar had lit a fire under them, encouraging them to train harder to keep up.

Henry walked up slowly, his soul dense with unease. Ignar gave a formal bow and retreated.

"What's going on?" Aenon enquired casually, doing some light stretches to cool down from the grueling work out.

"They have made their move," Henry said with trepidation, before handing over a parchment with a bunch of legal clauses. It was an agreement to surrender the city to the Alliance.

But Aenon's gaze was on the list of signatures at the bottom. The betrayal was expected, but not the scale.

"All of them?" Aenon asked with a frown, his voice suddenly cold as ice.

Henry merely nodded.

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"Where are they now?" Aenon asked, unable to hide his anger.

"The Alliance representative and his retinue left hours ago, while the nobles are busy packing," Henry said. He hesitated before continuing, "Whatever you all did has spooked them."

Aenon's mood soured at the revelations. He crushed the paper in his hand before stuffing it into his inventory.

"Bane," Aenon commanded loudly, making everyone jump up in alarm.

Eight shadows erupted from the ground, as the Abyssal Wolves assembled obediently. The others too started to walk over, having sensed the seriousness of his voice.

"You and the wolves will scour the city from the shadows," Aenon's tone was direct and authoritative. "Eliminate all threats by any means necessary. Specially if someone's life is in danger."

"As you command, Alpha," Bane said with a bow before all wolves dissolved into the shadows that streaked across the ground towards the portal.

"Jenny," Aenon turned to the ice mage next. He handed her a rolled-up document from his inventory. "Take charge of the city garrison. Make sure the city guard is deployed in all sectors. I don't want anyone raising a panic."

"On it," Jenny confirmed before she too ran off with the pups.

"Ignar," Aenon continued. "You and Velastra will head over to the Guild. Make sure your leader doesn't pull any more foolish schemes."

The adventuring couple nodded grimly before taking their leave.

"You two, head towards the smithy," he instructed the dwarves. "Coordinate with Borin and the shopkeepers to make sure the citizens are safe from harm. You will be their last lines of defense."

"Gotcha," the twins chorused before breaking into a run.

That left only Aenon, Henry and Thalindra in the clearing. Mrs. Ashvein had already whisked away Talia when she detected the atmosphere.

"Return to your post and assist the others where needed," Aenon addressed Henry first. "They might move up the attack if they feel desperate enough."

Henry nodded before looking at Thalindra questioningly. When Aenon didn't elaborate, he too left in a hurry.

"My orders?" Thalindra asked formally.

In response, Aenon tossed the five rats he had captured. The group were in various degrees of madness, one of them even clawed his own eyes out. Jenny had informed him how unsettling his shadow could be. Aenon had deliberately left them to rot in the inhospitable void to soften them up.

"I want every drop of information extracted," Aenon said coldly. "Anyone who doesn't cooperate goes back in my shadow."

The captives shivered in terror, apologizing profusely along with promises of cooperation. That is until Thalindra unleashed her death Aura.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," her ghostly voice said sweetly, her wraith form on display. "I have my ways to get them to talk."

The five nearly choked as they saw what they were up against. Thalindra's haunting smile chilled them to the bone.

"You have thirty minutes," Aenon said, unaffected by the oppressive Aura.

Aenon left the unfortunate group to their fate as he walked briskly towards Mrs. Ashvein's hut. He sensed the two souls sitting within the building, one curious, while the other had a more complex array of feelings.

He heard Talia jump up in alarm when he knocked. Despite them hiding it from her, the girl had picked up that something big was about to happen. The kid opened the door and hugged him tight, worry rising to the forefront.

Mrs. Ashvein, on the other hand, sat comfortably at the quaint dining table. She poured some aromatic tea into a pair of cups, pointing at the chair opposite her. A green skinned boy, dressed in some truly bizarre clothing, also stepped up.

"Want to go for a ride, Talia-Friend," Nocthrya's avatar said cheerfully, a Treant standing at the ready on the outside.

Talia had always run off excitedly at every chance she had had. But this time, she hesitated, turning between Aenon and her grandmother.

"Its alright, little one. You go have fun," Aenon reassured her.

The old woman simply gave an encouraging smile, shooing her charge gently. Finally alone, Aenon took the offered seat. He smelled the drink, enjoying the smell before taking a sip. It was truly delectable.

The heavy silence lingered for a while, before Aenon gathered up the courage and spoke. "We will be gone for a while."

The old crone didn't say anything, sipping her own tea while nodding gently. Her expressions gave nothing away, and strangely even her soul was silent. Almost like she was numb to this situation.

Aenon honestly wasn't sure why he was here. He had initially decided to just drop in for a quick word before heading off to his own task. But the tea had caught him off guard, and so had the mood.

"Make sure to practice your Cooking when you get the time," Mrs. Ashvein finally said in her weak gravelly voice.

Aenon frowned. Based on the setting he was expecting her to want to talk, or maybe give some advice. Not to talk more about cooking. But before he could respond, she finally looked into his eyes. And that gaze erased all his bubbling thoughts.

There was a depth to her eyes that Aenon had never witnessed before. A lifetime's worth of experience that overpowered his Soul Sense. Joy, Sadness, Love, Pain, Loss, it was just too much. Aenon was so overwhelmed, that he almost doubled over from it.

"Drink," came the soothing voice.

Unable to comprehend what he was experiencing, Aenon went with the motions and listened to the sage advice. Only with the next gulp did he feel his soul relax. When he looked up, the mysterious woman had a sad smile on her face.

"Make sure to not lose yourself too much," she said in a melancholic tone.

"I…," Aenon hesitated, unsure about how to respond. "I will be ok. I know pain and suffering."

"No." The sadness from her turned to pure sorrow as she muttered, "You don't."

"What do you mean?" Aenon asked in confusion.

"War," she replied simply, "is different."

Aenon didn't understand what she meant. But she refused to talk further, just urging him to drink. And so Aenon did just that, sitting that in that little hut, enjoying the hot beverage. Trying to unravel the meaning behind the cryptic words and the overload of sensory information from her soul.

Talia and Nocthrya soon returned, both quiet given the atmosphere. The girl though couldn't contain her restlessness.

"You are going away for a long time, aren't you?" Talia asked timidly. "My Pa left just like this. Granny served him tea while I played outside. He never returned."

The girl tried desperately to hold in tears but failed spectacularly.

Aenon knelt next to her chair, a soft smile on his lips. "You have seen how strong we are. So don't worry, little one."

"Make sure to come back," she said with a hug. "Me and Noct will wait for you."

Aenon patted her head gently, turning to Nocthrya who was standing awkwardly to the side. Aenon outstretched his hand, inviting the shy boy into the group hug, which Nocthrya joined wholeheartedly.

After a long time—which wasn't too long as per Talia—Aenon pried himself free. He stood slowly to regard the two—the reason for his quest. His decision firmed in his heart: no harm would come upon them till he drew breath.

The soft tapping of Mrs. Ashvein's cane broke the silence. The old lady withdrew something from her inventory as she approached Aenon. It was something like a lunch bento.

"Make sure you keep yourself and the others well fed," she said succinctly. "An army can't run on an empty stomach."

Aenon accepted the box with care, before depositing it to his inventory. With heavy footsteps he left the dwelling, leaving the older woman holding the hands of the two kids—one of them openly weeping, while the other waved frantically.

Aenon took one last look at the trio before dissolving into the Shadow Realm. He didn't dare look back. He made a mad dash for where he had left Thalindra.

Five corpses were laid out around Thalindra's incorporeal form. Their souls were extinguished, but the expressions of horror and pain remained on the lifeless husks.

Sensing him approach, she got down on one knee, "I know the location of all nineteen pits."

Aenon merely nodded as he walked past the dead, a burst of void mana from his hands erasing their existence from the world.

"Let's go then," he said as his featureless mask appeared. "If it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get."

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