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There was a grove on the wall of the carriage. It was a small indent, barely an inch-long mark that was roughly the width of a fingernail. It was lighter in shade than the wall, the innards of the wood tree exposed after a brush with an errant student’s blade or some other piece of iron. Not that the mark, or its origin, mattered much to Kellen. There were plenty like it along the wall of the carriage, beat up as it was.

But if he stopped looking at the grove, he’d look at the wall. And then he’d remember he was in a carriage. And that this carriage was hurtling towards a group of bandits who had just set off an explosion far beyond the grade of a regular group of brigands. And they’d be armed. And they’d see the banners of the Knights of Seiros to be greeted by a bunch of children in school uniforms. And pick out the one in the ill-fitting garbs whose hands were rattling as he tried to lift his sword but he’d be too slow.

Kellen brought his eyes back to the wall and the small mark on it. Faintly, he realized he could Michail’s voice from outside of the carriage. He was quite keen on tuning it out for as long as he could, but when he heard his name, instinct kicked in. He was hopeful that Kayden had some experience, based on the way he carried himself, but he had no idea what sort of training or practical combat experience Imogen had. It made some sense then, that’d they be put on backup.
As the carriage drew to a halt, Kellen kept his eyes trained on that same spot of the carriage. He at the front, and knew it would take a few seconds before he could exit. He could hear screams, and the general commotion that came with panic and a raid such as this. He had heard it before when Gautier troops had been deployed to end Srengese raids in villages much like this. He couldn’t hear the sound of steel on steel or anything that would indicate resistance. That would change shortly.

Kellen crouched as he found his way out of the carriage, realizing quickly that bandits had already been prepared to welcome the group. His sides seized as his eyes registered the weapons in their hands. Most appeared well-worn. An axe with a chip in it there, a rusty sword in another glove. A spearhead that was still pointing towards the sky. If the group standing there was all there was, Kellen was sure his classmates and teachers could handle them. And Kellen could stay back,  keep his sword in its sheath and his body away from anything sharp. His eyes started to scan over the immediate terrain, but he was distracted when he noticed the bandits start moving forward, with Auberon being the first to step out and engage them.

While the situation had changed, Kellen had to assume the plan hadn’t. He kept his eyes peeled for anyone who might try to flank the haphazard assembly of students and faculty, counting his breaths as he did so. One. The satisfying crack from the haft of Auberon’s axe. Two. A villager gathering a young one who had fallen on the ground before he kept running. Three. A man armed with the faintest smile on his face and a blood-stained Hand-and-a-Half sword stepping out from a building behind the group. Unlike some of the bandits, his eyes appeared to light up as he saw the small group of students.

[color=63a2e4]“Please don’t…”[/color] Kellen murmured to himself as his hand moved to the pommel of his sword. His stance didn’t shift, his knees locking as he watched in horror as the man started to move towards them. He hadn’t yet noticed the small Fraldarius eyeing him. Kellen wanted to move, but he found himself stuck in place. He opened his mouth to call for help, but again that word came out, barely a whisper.

[color=63a2e4]“Please.”[/color] Kellen couldn’t take his eyes off of the large sword and its wielder. If anyone else had spotted him, they weren’t moving to engage. He glanced back to see that combat had begun in earnest between the students and their faculty. It appeared this bandit had realized it too, as the smirk turned into a grin and he broke into a full run.

It was then that something unforeseen occurred. First, Kellen heard a voice shout [color=63a2e4]“Stop!”[/color]. He briefly glanced to try and locate the source of it, but couldn’t find anyone nearby who seemed to be prepared to enforce the order. The bandit heard it too, and turned in its direction to see a student who had yet to draw his blade and looked more scared than many of the villagers. For the first time, Kellen and the bandit made eye contact. While Kellen’s inner voice screamed at him to flee, he felt his left leg take a half-step forward, leaving most of his weight on the back foot. He heard the sound of a sword sliding out of its sheath before he realized it was his hand, a hemmed sleeve sitting an inch above his wrist, holding his blade steadily.

The boy’s new stance did nothing to change the man’s pace, but Kellen noticed his smile falter ever-so-slightly. The smile returned he closed the gap, raising his sword to bring it crashing down on Kellen’s head. As the sword came down, Kellen did just as he had been instructed, raising his blade and providing an angle to guide the momentum towards the ground.

He had miscalculated the strength behind the man’s swing, though. As the blades connected, Kellen was nearly brought to his knees. There was no opportunity to counter as Kellen did a rapid assessment of his body. The aching in his arms confirmed that his crest hadn’t set in. But he wasn’t sure he could sustain another hit of that ferocity. The bandit realized it too, readjusting his grip to bring his blade back up, planning to take advantage of the leverage he had over the boy.

Kellen didn’t give him the chance. With a yell bordering on bewilderment as much as anger, and a look on his face that indicated he was just as surprised as his opponent, he shot forward from his lowered position with his sword outstretched and pointed squarely at the man’s gut. It was a minor miracle – or curse – that the man was able to bring down his sword to swipe it away, but it wasn’t quick enough to stop it from connecting with his side and drawing blood. The man’s shout of rage didn’t deter Kellen from pressing his advantage  It was unlikely, without the element of surprise, that he would be able to score another hit like that. But as long he kept in close and his opponent blocking, he’d prevent a similar strike from coming his way, at least until aid (or more opponents) arrived.