"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage."
- Lucius Annaeus Seneca
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" We Shall Call You Alekyne of House Dostoeyevsky, a great knight you will become, I'm sure of it "
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[ Ethan POV ]
Being squired on my eighth name day was not something I had expected, though it could hardly be called an unpleasant surprise. My Ser was a man of considerable honour, even if he concealed it behind the permanent scowl etched into his face, as though the world itself had committed some personal offence against him.
Not that it bothered me.
"You're thinking ill of me," Ser Alekyne said suddenly, his voice cutting clean through my thoughts. "Aren't you?"
I smiled despite myself. He possessed an uncanny talent for sensing when someone spoke against him, even when it was only in jest. "No, Ser," I replied, careful to keep my tone even. "Just pondering things."
He snorted. "You ponder? Nonsense. You can barely swing a sword, and you fancy yourself a thinker?"
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. He was harsh and unyielding, and if anyone else spoke so freely, I was certain they would have wanted to tear his throat out. Yet I never could. Beneath the rough words was a man who had shown me unexpected kindness, sharing his meals, correcting my form with patience rather than cruelty.
Even if his lessons left me bruised and sore.
Still, I had improved. With every spar, I stood longer, struck truer, and bore fewer marks than the bout before. Though I suspected that had less to do with my own growing skill and more with the fact that he had begun to hold back.
The soft...
"End that thought right there, lad," Ser Alekyne growled, lifting his warhammer just enough to make his meaning unmistakable. "Unless you wish me to strike you down with it."
By the Seven, he was terrifying when he made threats, even idle ones. "Yes, Ser," I said quickly. "I'll put an end to my wandering mind at once."
"Good. We'll make camp soon." He tightened his grip on the reins, his white destrier maintaining a steady trot along the narrowing path. "No training tonight. We rest, then ride out at first light."
I sighed, relief loosening the tension in my shoulders. At last.
As we continued onward, our pace gradually slowed. The light along the horizon waned, fading into muted yellow-gold, and our attention turned to finding a place suitable for rest.
Our eyes scanned either side of the path in search of a low, wooded ridge. It did not take long before we found one rising gently from the earth. "A good spot," Ser Alekyne said. "It'll shield us from the wind, and if the skies turn, the rain as well."
He shifted in the saddle and glanced toward the trees. "Check for nearby water. I'll see if this ground will hold if we're pressed by brigands."
I nodded at once, dismounting and loosening the lead of the pack animal trailing behind us. I pushed through the trees and undergrowth, boots sinking slightly into damp soil. It took little time before I heard it, the splashing of moving water.
A small stream revealed itself through the brush, close enough to camp to be useful without inviting trouble. I allowed myself a small smile. At least this task, I can manage.
"Of course I could," I muttered to myself as I knelt by the stream. "I was a squire."
I dipped my fingers into the water; it was cold, sharp enough to sting, and clear, no sign of animal piss or shit. Leaning closer, I smelled it as well, just to be extra sure that this stretch remained untouched by animal, and possibly human, filth.
Satisfied, I filled my leather skins, the weight growing heavier with each gulp of water until they bulged, taut and full.
For a few quiet moments, I stood alone in the forest. No bickering village children. No bruising drills beneath my Ser's watchful eye. Just the hush of leaves and running water.
It was peaceful.
Then a branch cracked somewhere uphill, and my spine went rigid.
The sound drew nearer, each step heavier than the last. Whatever it was moved with purpose, and that purpose was very much in my direction.
I drew my dagger and raised it, hands trembling despite my effort to steady them.
"S-Ser?" I called, my voice far more timid than I would have liked.
"Easy now, lad," came Ser Alekyne's reply, calm and close. He stepped into view between the trees, his warhammer resting against his shoulder as though it weighed nothing at all. "If someone meant you harm, you wouldn't have heard them coming."
I nodded, heart still racing. He was right.
"I found water," I said. "Clean."
He glanced past me at the stream and chuckled. "Way to state the obvious, lad." Then, after a pause, he gave me a simple nod. "You did well. You checked it properly."
His gaze lingered on my shaking hands and the dagger still drawn. Oh, right. I sheathed it at once. He shook his head.
"You held your ground against a threat."
Barely, I thought. I nearly shit myself.
We returned to the ridge together as the light dimmed further, the once-golden sky dulling into grey. Ser Alekyne wasted no time. He chose the fire's position with care, scraping away leaves and setting stones in a rough circle.
I unpacked the bedrolls as instructed, laying them near the fire, our mats placed on opposite sides.
Then came the armour. I helped him shrug free of it, piece by piece. The polished plates, which once gleamed beneath the sun, barely shone now. His cuirass bore the marks of hard use, scratches and shallow dents etched into its surface.
At last, the final piece came away: the helm. With it removed, the thing that separated knight from mortal man was gone.
Ser Alekyne looked almost… human.
Not long after, I dozed off to sleep.
My ser was continuing to watch over; he was never one for sleep.
Yet even as I slept, my rest was fitful. I twisted beneath my blankets, breath shallow, as though my body sensed something my mind could not yet grasp. A quiet unease clung to me, pressing against my chest. Something felt wrong.
As the night stretched on, that feeling proved true.
A loud crunch shattered the stillness, ripping me from sleep.
I turned toward the sound and froze.
A bandit lay broken upon the ground, his skull crushed beyond recognition, as though it had caved beneath an impossible weight. Bone and flesh were smeared across the earth where his head had once been. Ser Alekyne stood over the corpse, his warhammer slick with blood.
It was a sight I would never grow used to. Heads split open like fruit, bone yielding beneath the merciless force of that weapon he carried so easily, as though its weight meant nothing to him at all.
"COME ON THEN, YOU FOOLS!" His roar tore through the night, raw and furious.
I scrambled to my feet, fumbling for my daggers, and moved to stand beside him. Three brigands remained. Their faces were pale, eyes wide, bodies trembling as fear rooted them in place.
I glanced down at the ground beneath my boots. It squelched as I shifted my weight, soaked through with blood and scattered fragments of what had once been a man's head. My stomach lurched violently. This was the first time I had seen a body destroyed so completely, a life ended in such brutal finality.
My hands shook, but I clenched my jaw and forced myself to remain standing. This was the life of a knight. If I wished to grow stronger, if I wished to make him proud, then I would have to endure it.
"You do not need to be here," Ser Alekyne said without looking back. "I will handle them."
I nodded and stepped away, legs unsteady. He wore no armour, yet that only made him seem more dangerous. Steel unleashed the wildness deep within him. Without it, he still moved like a deadly beast.
He advanced, and the brigands recoiled at once, whatever courage they possessed crumbling. Ser Alekyne let out a harsh laugh.
"You dare try to rob us," he said, voice thick with contempt, "yet you tremble the moment one of your own is sent to the Seven Hells?"
Then he surged forward.
The warhammer came down in a wide, merciless arc. The nearest brigand barely had time to gasp before the blow struck with the force of a dragon's wrath.
A sickening crack split the air.
The man collapsed where he stood, his body hitting the earth as his head was reduced to pulp.
"Two more," Ser Alekyne muttered, a grim grin twisting his lips as he charged again.
This time, the remaining brigands managed to regroup. One carried a spear, though the weapon shook violently beneath Ser Alekyne's gaze. The other gripped his sword with white knuckles and let out a ragged roar, fierce enough to frighten children but useless here.
They advanced together, attempting to corner him. The spearman thrust.
Ser Alekyne twisted aside, the spearhead slicing through the air where his body had been a heartbeat before. He stepped inside the weapon's reach and brought his hammer down upon the wooden shaft. The wood shattered instantly. Before the brigand could react, Ser Alekyne drove his shoulder into him, sending him sprawling hard against the ground.
The swordsman swung wildly, desperation guiding his blade. Steel grazed beneath Ser Alekyne's ribs, drawing blood, but the knight did not falter. He caught the man's wrist in one hand and crushed it with brutal strength. Bone cracked beneath his grip. The sword fell uselessly into the dirt.
The brigand screamed.
The warhammer rose, then crashed down upon his knees. The joint exploded under the impact, steel meeting bone with horrific force. The scream rose higher and thinner before it was cut short entirely as Ser Alekyne ended the man with a single blow to the head.
The spearman, ignored until now, began to crawl away, dragging himself through dirt and blood with what little strength remained.
A boot pressed down on his back, pinning him in place.
The struggle ended as the hammer fell once more, and the man who had tried to flee vanished into stillness.
Silence returned to the clearing. Only the soft crackle of the fire, indifferent to the blood spilt around it.
I stood frozen, unable to look away from the carnage. The night felt heavier now, thick with death.
"Stick close to me tomorrow," Ser Alekyne said calmly. "The roads are filling with rodents."
I nodded, though my leg continued to tremble.
Was this life truly worth it?
I tightened my grip on my dagger and forced the doubt down. Yes. Everything I had endured was worth it. It would be worth it in the end. I would become a great knight, one that people looked up to.
Just as I looked up to him.
"Do not be thinking anything foolish, boy," Ser Alekyne said, giving me a light tap on the head as he sat by the fire. He pointed toward my bedroll. "Get some sleep. You will need it come morning."