There wasn’t much talking on the way home. The boat creaked under the pressure of the calm waves, and the sailors heaved and groaned with the planks as they rowed, but there wasn’t any words. Once blue waves turned dark purple under the evening sky, and the sea breeze turned chilly. Renevin had taken turns with one of the sailors at the oars, hoping the labor would occupy his mind, but the repetition just made him focus. A phantom weight laid on his arms, as if the woman was still there rasping her final breath. In the end he plopped himself down on a barrel and stewed in his own thoughts. 

	Hondros’ gloved hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed, causing Renevin’s voice to leak out, raspy and sad, “She was probably someone’s mother, someone’s wife. Definitely someone’s daughter. I didn’t see any of that -- what I saw was broken.”

	“She had died long before we arrived, there was nothing we could do,” Hondros’ accented whipped into the salty air.

	“I know,” Renevin looked at his partner, “She was on her final breaths, but-”

	“No, I get it,” Hondros waved a hand, “the mind doesn’t easily comprehend it. We are so used to seeing each other in a certain way, it’s scary when your eyes don’t register what it’s used to.”

	“Even scarier when it dies in your arms,” Renevin sighed, and stood up, “I’ll beat it out of my mind in a few days.”

	“Now that,” Hondros folded his arms, “now that would be scary.”

	“Can only move forward,” Renevin looked out over the horizon, his arm leaning on the railing.

	“Just never forget what gets you there,” Hondros joined him, folding his arms around the wooden guard, “you’ll be seeing a lot as a Praxian, don’t forget what it was like before it started to numb you, and above all never forget our code. We have it for a reason.”

	“Yeah,” Renevin gazed across the rippling sea, a dark line forming on the horizon, “you ever wonder how much longer we have left?”

	Hondros squinted his eyes, “you’re too new to be thinking about quitting.”

	“No,” Renevin turned to Hondros, “that’s not what I’m saying.”

	He paused, “nevermind.”

	Hondros looked out over at the forming landmass, “I know.”
	From that point on the rest of the trip was spent in relative silence. The two Guards stood staring forwards as the rowers rowed. Gulls became more and more dense as the black strip of land in the distance became a supple mass of green, speckled with white stone buildings embedded in the hilly coast. The water turned a light rippling blue, and the clarity gave view to the shadows of fish swimming underneath. 

	Slowly the coastal sound of gull calls and wave breaks turned into a small cheer as the villagers of Ylldyn became dots on the docks, the sailors returning their calls with cheers of their own. Despite the storm of thoughts in Renevin’s mind, he and Hondros cracked smiles, the happy calls curling their lips without command.

	At last the shapes in the distance turned into a fully detailed crowd. Women in white dresses, and men in equally bright tunics and baggy breeches waved their fisherman hats and tanned arms in welcome. Children slipped between the legs of the adults, eager to watch the return of the galley ship. Renevin’s own eyes scanned the scene, his icy blues looking for something with the same vigor as the overeager children. 

	Hondros watched his usually cool headed friend with interest, taking note when Renevin’s eyes relaxed, suddenly fixated. Renevin’s gaze laid heavily on a single woman, her head of hair a honey blonde, in stark contrast the the brown and black haired villagers surrounding her. She wore light eyes, of a greenish hazel, which fluttered behind thick eyelashes, giving her visage a sort of outline that was a pleasure to trace. Despite her differences, she had a gentle aquiline nose, same as the others. 

	Renevin’s fingers gripped the rail tight at the sight of Swedren.

	“Easy,” Hondros looked ahead, “She’ll be there when we dock.”

	“I know,” Renevin said cooly, and yet the longing in his eyes betrayed his voice.

	In the half an hour it took to get the galley next to and tied to the dock, the cheers had turned into loud conversation and curious eyes. Some of the children had lost interest and began rushing around in impromptu games of youth, and generally getting in the sailor’s way as they began to go about their business. The crowd paid little mind to the everyday sea salt, but kept their attention on the two Guards as they finally hopped down from the galley and onto the water washed planks below. 

	The crowd split to allow the men passage. Hondros took the lead, Renevin hesitating briefly when his eyes finally met Swedren’s causing both their faces to break out in wide toothy smiles, their cheeks suddenly gaining a deeper color. It took a second, but eventually the nigh tangible link of their gaze was broken as Renevin realized how far Hondros had walked ahead of him.

	Shoulder to shoulder now, the pair made their way past the plaster houses, their boots kicking up dust on the dirt roads of the village. Only when the pair made their way onto a small stone dias that sat in the center of the village did the duo stop, taking their final steps onto the raised platform. Ceremoniously they turned to the crowd, Swedren having made her way to the front with wide admiring eyes. 

	The pair looked ahead, as if seeing into the distant future, and as they did they took their sword arms and extended them, then bent them, snatching the hilts of their blades. Together they ripped their swords from their scabbards with a inspiring rasp. The lowest runes along the ancient looking weapons suddenly began to glow and hum, and then all at once, as the soldiers held their swords pointing high above their heads, a great vision appeared.

	It was the fight. A sparkling image of Hondros and Renevin swirled above the real pair, the troll in the center. The crowd murmured in awe as they watched the troll’s final moments, the image ending as it fell under the combined might of the two Praxian Storm Guards. 

	As the sparkling image dissipated the crowd turned into cheers, and with disciplined coordination, the pair of guards returned their blades to their scabbard in synchrony before stepping down from the dias. Renevin looked at Hondros, his face hiding a question behind bold eyes. Hondros gave him a satisfied smile and nodded. The crowd rushed the pair with praise, and children reached out to touch their battered armor. Men and women alike attempted to touch, hold and shake their hands, but with a little help of Hondros, who suddenly spread his arms in welcome, accompanied with a booming laugh and wide smile, Renevin snuck away. 

	Slipping through the crowd Renevin’s brow furrowed, his face resting in an unfortunate scowl as his eyes searched. Suddenly a couple of fingers slipped under the pauldron on his shoulder and tugged. Renevin spun to meet the culprit, swinging in close to offset the pull. He blunk, and Swedren blunk back. The two stood face to face, their lips curling into content smiles. Reaching down Renevin took her hand in his and she lead him out of the crowd. 

	Slipping between two white crosshatch fences tangled in flowering grape vines, the two escaped the clamor of the town center, a soft laugh stuck in their throats. They made a sharp turn, escaping view of both the crowd and the evening sun. 

	Huddling under an old olive tree the two embraced. Swedren suddenly making a scowl, “The armor really takes away from the-”

	“Oh!” Renevin gave an embarrassed smile. There was a soft pause and then they both blurted out, “How are you?”

	The recoiled, Swedren lunging back into the conversation first, “I was worried.”

	“You didn’t need to be,” Renevin curled a smile, “Hondros is a great leader.”

	"Humble,” Swedren teased, “You’re no slack from what I’ve seen -- but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry. Anything can happen.”

	“It’s the life I chose,” Renevin nodded, hiding a blush from the praise.

	“I know,” Swedren gave him a smile that melted his heart,somehow catching a glimmer of the sun in her eye under the shade, “I’m proud of you for that.”


	Renevin looked down, his eyes in heaven as a soft smile remained on his face. Swedren’s radiant smile grew as she gazed over him, his features, ignoring the grime on his attire and cheeks. Gently she pressed her forehead on his and closed her eyes, Renevin doing the same. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before finally an anxious ball formed in the pit of Renevin’s stomach, “Did you ask your father?”

	Immediately Swedren raised her head and looked back up at Renevin, her eyes suddenly mirroring his own anxiety, “He told me that he wanted to hear it from you.”

	“That doesn’t mean anything,” Renevin kept a positive attitude, “Formality is all.”

	Swedren gave a worried smile, “I know.”

	“Where is he?” Renevin stretched eagerly.

“Now?” Swedren crossed her brow, “So soon?”

	“I need to get this stone off my stomach,” Renevin looked down at Swedren, “It’ll eat me alive if I stay in suspense.”

	Swedren sighed, “You’re right. He should be retiring to his study soon, doing the days end count.”

	Renevin kissed the top of Swedren’s forehead and squeezed her hands, “Then I’ll seek you out as soon as I get my answer.”

	The young woman’s cheeks fought between a pale anxiety and a blushing pink, “I’ll be here as late as I can.”

	Renevin stole one last look at Swedren before turning and running off, his tired legs taking him as fast as he can. As he cut across one of the dirt roads of the village a broad arm stretched out to intercept him, causing him to skid to a halt. 

	A sandy cheeked man with long hair and sharp green eyes stared down at him, he wore the armor of the Praxians, and a mischievous smile, “Renevin! Just the man I wanted to see. I heard about the fight with the troll.”


	“I’m in a hurry D’Bran,” Renevin gave a polite nod.

	D’Bran rolled his eyes, “running off to Swedren?”

	“Nopoitis,” Renevin quickly said, starting his way around D’Bran.

	“See?” D’Bran shook his head, putting himself back in front of Renevin, “This is what I was saying last week. Far too much trouble. That cheap ass is going to give you a run around and put you in the suitor void where they shove all lost hopes. Just snag a regular beauty, an easier time.”

	“D’Bran.” Renevin spoke between his teeth.

	“Hey, I’m just looking out for a friend,” D’Bran cocked a brow, “You’re basically a local legend, you can have anyone you want.”

	“Swedren,” Renevin stopped and stared at D’Bran, “Can I go now?”

	The sandy cheeked guard shrugged and stepped aside, “It’s your wish, not mine. See you at the dance.”

	Renevin sighed, nodding hastily at D’Bran before cutting off into a jog once more. Sucking in his breath he managed to force his anxiety to the lowest pits of his stomach, but with every step he felt it twist back up. He shook his head, letting the cool coastal air take over his senses. 

	With a skid and a scuff Renevin came to a stop. A great entrance way stood in front of him, a portly janitor tending the doorway. To the left and the right were large fields, dotted with what workers remained this late, most leading the beasts of burden back to their pens. Renevin paid them little mind as he approached the janitor.

	“I’m here by request of Nopoitis,” Renevin explained.

	The janitor stood back and examined the taller, younger man in front of him, “Renevin?”

	“Yes,” Renevin answered quickly, eager to pass. The janitor waited a second longer, until Renevin’s brow settled into a downward slant, causing a small smile to form on the janitor’s face, “Good luck.”

	“Thanks,” Renevin said, unsure what to make of the man as he moved past. 

	The doorway lead to a hall, which then spilled into a sunny atrium. It was well kept, but plain, with little decoration. Renevin knew why, and if he hadn’t found himself at such odds with Swedren’s father, maybe he could even admire his frugal nature. Hooking a sharp left, Renevin left the white room and suddenly was face to face with a large door of some hardwood or another. Straightening upright, Renevin wrapped his gauntlet off the door, suddenly wishing he had changed.

	“Come in,” the hard voice of Nopoitis called out. Renevin obeyed, opening the door and walking into the study, his eyes set in confidence. The room in synchrony with the atrium was just as neat, and just as plain, with only expensive papers and binded books to decorate the massive desk and many shelves. The only object that stood out was a finely painted portrait of a childhood Swedren standing by an older boy, a young Garthilian man and a young Grynyn maiden. Nopoitis himself sat in all his white-crowned glory, behind the desk, hand on a quill, his swarthy arm threateningly close to undried ink. 

	Before Renevin could even open his mouth, Nopoitis sunk his quill into it’s ink bottle and folded his thick fingers together, “Renevin. Renevin, oh Renevin. Excuse the irony in what I’m about to say, Renevin, but I think you’re wasting both our times.”

	“I’m sorry?” Renevin took a step forward.

“You should be,” Nopoitis ignored the tone of Renevin’s response, “You have nothing to offer Swedren, nothing to offer the estate, nothing to offer me. You have nothing.”

	Nopoitis shook his hands as if pleading, “Nothing.”

“I can-” Renevin began.

	“Oh, I know. You can protect her, defend her honor. I hear a lot about you, all the time, don’t you worry. Your exploits as a youth to your days as a Praxian. You have a fairy tale life, and the town loves you for it, but the town’s daughter isn’t interested in you, mine is, and as far as I’m concerned, there is no stability in your life and line of work.” Nopoitis stood up, “The Praxians have been dying for the past few centuries and in my mind they don’t have the decade left before they are forced to disband. Government, Kings, Queens, they do all the protecting we need, and they can actually pay their soldiers good money for it.”

	“Castle Oswald-”

	“Is a tripe fort in the mountains, the last foothold of your cursed order,” Nopoitis answered, “Is that where you would move my daughter? A fort? Here she has land, here she has my business. If it wasn’t for the death of my son, I bet I wouldn’t be plagued with offers like this, I have half a mind to suspect you of swiping my fortune from me along with my daughter. No, she needs stability, and I can offer that, not you.”

	“Nopoitis,” Renevin finally got a word in, “I care for your daughter,” Nopoitis heckled a grunt but Renevin continued, “I may not have much now, but the future can hold anything, and she is willing to take that path with me. She wants to marry me, and I want to marry her.”

	“About eighteen years ago now,” Nopoitis narrowed his eyes, “a young baby tied to the back of a bull wandered into town. The old coots said the bull walked upright and talked, and that the baby was a sign of greater things. I saw people reading into something shallow, something they wanted. No, I kept my head out of the clouds and realized that this baby was tied to a regular-day-old-ass of an ox by a no good desperate tramp in an attempt to relieve herself of the burden of a child and this town had the misfortune of being the first town to notice the bull on its useless journey and take in the baby to which --” He held up a hand to keep Renevin from speaking, “-- to which this bastard grew up as troubled orphan, uneducated and penniless. By a miracle of the Brother’s Harmony themselves the child could fend for itself and found friendship in an outdated order, and ever since then this bastard believed itself to be special and deserving, so much so as to bother a real man who has a real livelihood about his real daughter.” Nopoitis slammed his palm on the desk, “This is not a fairy tale, boy.”

	Renevin stared at Nopoitis, his brow slanted into a scowl and his knuckles a bright white under his gloves. He stared in silence, the burn of anger swelling his throat closed with insults best left unsaid. His chest pumped heated breaths and his mind swirled with ideas.

	“A town as big as ours, a woman as beautiful as my daughter, and she picks the poorest man to ever grace these roads,” Nopoitis put the nail in the coffin, “Get out.”

	A cool wash overtook Renevin’s face, but his scowl remained. The combination of such a calm demeanor paired with such a look made Nopoitis shiver. Turning on his heel, Renevin slammed the door behind him. 

[hr]

	K’nell’s eyes scanned every feature of the dream, as if looking for something. The ballroom all around him was afloat with phantom instruments, a calming melody being played. K’nell slowly dropped the orb into its pedestal and tucked a hand under his chin.

	“Where is it,” a disembodied hum questioned.


[hider=summary]

Renevin and Hondros return to Ylldyn

	They show off their kill to the townspeople

Renevin runs off to be with Swedren, only to find out that his marriage proposal is being denied by her father.

	Renevin bumps into D’Bran on his way to Swedren’s father’s and has a brief conversation. 

Renevin is denied face to face by Swedren’s Father, pissing everyone off. 


K’nell ponders the dream.

[/hider]