"..."

Fanilly was silent for several moments.

Then...

"Rickart. His name was Sir Rickart," she said, finally. She hadn't known him very well. She hadn't known many of the knights very well, not yet. And now, in Rickart's case, she wouldn't get a chance to know him any better at all. Had she performed better, had tighter command of her forces, would he have perished?

In spite of the others' words, she didn't move immediately. The blonde-haired knight was silent. But... no, she was Knight-Captain. She had to keep pushing on. Sir Rickart's death couldn't be allowed to stop her, because there was no way any knight of the order would want such a thing to happen.

Fanilly took a deep breath.

"Ensure the wounded are properly transported and cared for," she ordered, ""Prisoners are to have their hands bound and be transported in a single file line. Do not harm them, they are already facing punishment for their crimes. Causing them pain is pointless cruelty."

She paused for a moment.

"... Sir Rickart's body is to be returned to his family."

[hr]

The return trip was rather uneventful. The prisoners were utterly crushed, defeated by the loss of so many and the slaying of their leader. Who could ever have prepared them for the Iron Roses? The injured were transported with care, thankfully there were very few with any serious injuries. But that was to be expected, really, as the Iron Roses were an order of legend.

Fanilly traveled at the head of the Knights, upon her white mare. The farmer who had been used as bait by the bandits seemed to be capable of making a full recovery. His injury had looked worse then it actually was, apparently, though it was still bad enough that, if they had not found him, he would have perished.

To the young captain, it felt entirely too long to reach their destination.

But it was dawn when they came upon their destination. The walls of the capital loomed ahead of them.

Aimlenn had been built long, long ago, construction having begun shortly after Thaln itself was founded. In spite of the country's embattled history, the capital had never wavered, never fallen. Its tall, strong walls held fast. Aimlenn, among the people, was known as the fortress-city, as the white-grey stone walls, lined with sturdy towers, were a sight known far and wide across the land.

The immense steel and wood gate stood before them. In this time of peace, it remained open, and Fanilly led her knights through it.

The streets bustled with activity, merchants transporting goods, citizens going about their business, and as they headed in further, nobility and the rich with their entourages of guards, maids, and manservants walking the street. What was universal to all these people is the glance they cast up as the Iron Roses entered. Many, especially the average citizens, looked on in awe as the knights of legend proceeded in, taking with them what could only be those bandits who had hurt and killed so many.

The guards, many of them soldiers of Thaln, cast dark glares towards the prisoners.

Fanilly did her best not to react to any of it. Even when it was looks of awe, she was Captain of the Iron Roses. She could not let anything distract her from her duty.

The stone fortress that was home to Aimlenn's garrison and prison soon received the bandits. Their fate was essentially sealed, an execution would greet them. Barring some sort of sudden reprieve(which seemed highly unlikely, to say the least), they were set to die for their murders and thefts.

But Fanilly did not remain there. Instead, she lead her knights further down the winding streets.

The Iron Rose Knights were based near the Royal Family's castle. It was an impressive building, blue tiles lining the roof and windows of stained glass, displaying roses. The Iron Rose itself was displayed above the entrance, gleaming in the morning sun. The structure itself was known as Candaeln.

Within, the wood floors were spotless and clean, and the plastered walls displayed portraits of past Captains, and another notable Iron Roses. Display cases of weapons of previous knights lined the walls, but one was placed above all.

The Saint's Blade, the Starlight Sword, Bane of the Vos Korvungand. The sword that had taken the head of Meryn the Kinslaughterer. The weapon that had pierced the heart of Volkstraad the red dragon. The silvery, almost ethereal-seeming blade of the Starlight Saint of Roses, Elionne herself, stood in the center of the room, carefully locked inside of glass case. It was the only thing that remained after the first captain of the Iron Roses had vanished. The blade was strong, but elegant, a sharp tip and a razor edge with a star-shaped crossguard.

Fanilly turned to her knights.

"Take the injured to the healers," she ordered, swiftly. The healers were to the left of the entrance hall, stationed in their own wing of Candaeln. "For everyone else, I would take some rest. You've earned it."

Fanilly glanced towards the stairs, and began to approach them. As she ascended, she had to admit to one desperate thought:

The Captain of the Iron Roses desperately desired a bath. There were many other thoughts that weighed on her mind, though she had already dispatched a messenger to Sir Rickart's family. She tried her best to change gears, to focus on recuperating instead.

Of course, moments after she left the sight of the others, a courier would arrive at the front of Candaeln.

Oh, dear. What timing.

[@HereComesTheSnow][@Raineh Daze][@Asuras][@jdh97][@Click This][@OwO][@Animal][@TheFake][@ERode][@Crimson Paladin][@ghastlyinc][@PaulHaynek]