Markus woke early the next morning, back wet with sweat. He'd had a nightmare again, probably the same nightmare he'd had every night of late. Probably, because just as every other time, he could not remember any of it. In the back of his mind, a faint, foreboding sensation drilled deep, dispelled only after an hour of meditation.
'It's getting worse.'
By the time Liane stirred from her sleep, Markus was already getting changed. He was a well built man with a warriors physique, a head taller than most. Scars riddled every inch of his body, a great deal of them looking severe or even fatal. Aside from the ones on his neck and by his chin, there were easily over a dozen others scattered across his arms, chest and abdomen. Less could be found on his legs, but they were there. Only his back was relatively unscathed.
On his left forearm, near the pit of the elbow, the mark of the Crimson Company was tattooed, a knight's helmet with a red plume, and beneath that, an intricate symbol, similar to three decorated V shapes.
He had a few packs filled with what he needed, and his armor had been loaded into a travelling chest. Tying his sword belt over gambeson, he turned to the sound of Liane waking and moved to her side, kissing her on the forehead as she rose.
"I need to get ready."
"I know, let me help carry your things."
After sharing the luggage with her, he made his way to Eve's room to check on her before he left. She was sleeping soundly in her bed, undisturbed by his heavy steps.
"I'll miss you little one." He whispered quietly.
"Why don't you leave that here for now and go get Quinn. I'll make breakfast for us all." Liane said as she rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Thanks. I'll go get the brat now" he replied with a smile, before heading out the door.
As a knight, Markus was expected to raise a squire by his side. He hadn't planned to at first, having put little stock in today's title of knighthood, but a dear friend of his had asked him to take in her nephew and teach him.
Had he not taken Quinn under his wing, the ambitious youth was likely to run off to the nearest recruitment, head filled with the stories of war Markus and his aunt Julia had told him growing up.
After exiting his home and being met with the autumn winds, Markus followed the paved path east, to the far end of town.
Quinn's father, Ron, was now a stable master here at Falrum, having been disowned by his family. The man had once thought he and Markus kindred spirits, having both been cut off from their kin, but Markus couldn't disagree more.
Frankly, he despised Ron. The man had not been disowned for following his heart like he, but for abusing his standing and assaulting women. If it weren't for his sister Julia, and his promising son, Markus would want nothing to do with the man.
Reaching the stable, he found the father and son in question making themselves busy. The former led a muscular black bay, built like the finest of warhorses with a defiant attitude, while the latter, Quinn, was securing the bags on two pack horses, his own grey dun waiting calmly nearby.
"Ron. Quinn." Markus greeted with a nod.
"Mornin' Markus" Quinn said casually without raising his head as he continued securing saddlebags.
"Good Morning Markus. Your beast is in as foul a mood as always."
"He can't help it, that's how he was trained, weren't you boy." He replied as he approached the stallion and calmed him down as best he could. When the giant creature had calmed, he began to walk a circle around the steed, inspecting its form and looking for any signs of mistreatment. He really didn't like Ron and tended to think the worst of him.
When he found nothing out of order, he took the reins with a word of thanks.
Ron was a thin man, the kind that looked to have once been in good shape, but had let himself go. He was well kept and always stood with a straight back, but his eyes were thin and he didn't give others a great first impression.
His son, Quinn, on the other hand, was a fine young man. He stood tall for his age of 16 and was in good physical shape, having never slacked on his training. Unlike his father's dark reddish-brown hair, he had a head of bright scarlet like his aunts, though his lively eyes shared the brown hue of his father's.
Leading his steed over to the boy who had just finished performing final checks on the horses, he pulled himself astride the large mount's saddle and spoke.
"If you're done with the horses, grab what you need and come to my place for breakfast. We'll head out as soon as we're done."
Before Quinn had a chance to reply, Ron spoke up hesitantly.
"Ah, Markus? Would you mind if we spoke for a moment?"
Markus directed a questioning gaze at Quinn, silently asking the boy if he had any idea why Ron wanted to speak with him, but when the teen shook his head in confusion, he shrugged and acquiesced.
"Alright Ron. Quinn, why don't you go ahead and I'll catch up."
As Quinn did just that, Markus turned his steed around to face Ron and spoke first. "Don't worry Ron, I'll keep the boy safe at my side from start to finish. I should have him back within half a year at most."
"Right, thank you. I wanted to ask though, you'll be fighting with my sister won't you?"
"Of course, why?"
The man hesitated a moment before replying. "Could you… tell her I'm doing well?"
Markus gave a long look at the suddenly hesitant man. His eyes were slightly sunken as if he'd not been sleeping well, and though his clothes appeared clean and proper, the cologne he wore could not mask the smell of alcohol to Markus' nose. Others might not notice it, but Markus was a knight, and that meant more than what it seemed.
Restraining a sigh, he wondered what he should do.
"You were not to drink anymore, correct?"
"Of course, I know that she worries, and I can even swear to The Six that I haven't," he said with seemingly genuine conviction.
That was not the reply he wanted. Markus could barely contain the sudden twitching of his upper lip as his eyes chilled. In a colder voice, he demanded:
"To The Six?"
"O-of course"
Markus wanted nothing more to do with the man. Turning his back on Ron, he rode back to the stone path.
"Markus? Will you tell her?" Ron shouted to his back.
"I will tell her exactly how well you are doing. I swear it to The Six" He said as he continued to ride away.
He scowled as he rode back. Ron always did manage to anger him more than most, but about oaths like that, he was particularly prickly. Julia did not worry about Ron's drinking for his health, but for what he might do. Frankly, Markus didn't want such a man living in the same town as his wife and child, but Julia insisted there was a good man beneath the bad decisions. He hoped that was true.
Gradually, he put thoughts of Ron, and everything else out of mind, enjoying a moment of inner silence as he rode home, shamelessly watching the people move by and wondering what they were about this morning.
Tying his feisty steed out of reach of Liane's garden, he walked past the three other horses out front and could hear his daughter laughing inside, a sound that inevitably brought a smile to his face. He hadn't wanted to wake her just to say goodbye, after all, he had already said it last night, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad she was awake to see him go.
Letting himself in, Markus immediately felt shelter from the winds outside and was met with heartwarming scenery. Liane wore a white apron contrasting her long black hair and served food for his adorable little Eve. The teenage Quinn spoke with the little one like a big brother would his sister while eating excitedly.
"I'm gone for only minutes and I've been replaced by a younger man. Oh woe is me, this poor and lonely soldier." He joked with exaggerated motions.
"Daddy!"
"Welcome back honey, take a seat before it gets cold."
Quinn made to stand, realizing he was in the host's seat, but Markus put a hand on his shoulder and forced him back down before sitting next to Eve. Liane passed a bowl of water and a towel for his hands and sat too.
"How are you feeling?" he asked Quinn while piling food on his plate.
"Excited. Nervous. Same as usual."
"You're sure you've packed everything you need?"
"I'm sure."
"Alright. Eat well then, and I'll make sure you haven't gotten rusty while we're on the road."
Quinn smiled as he put down his fork, directing a challenging gaze to Markus.
"Aren't you worrying too much old man? I've advanced quite a bit you know?"
"Hm? Do explain, oh so skillful warrior."
Quinn's smile grew wider.
"It happened last week. I found the 'Gallery'." He said with smug satisfaction.
Now that was something.
"The Gallery? You found it at home?"
"Of course, did you think it would take me years more like those common soldiers?"
Quinn's nose was practically pointing at the sky by this point, and his gaze became even more challenging.
Markus' shoulders shook as he quickly swallowed his food before raucous laughter broke through his guard. "You found your Gallery of War stuck at home dwelling on memories?" He laughed again, barely controlling himself. "And you acted so proudly!"
He couldn't contain it at all, he felt his stomach hurt with how much he laughed. Even Liane smiled teasingly and stifled a chuckle as she looked at the confused and embarrassed Quinn.
"What? What?! I really found it! What's so funny?!" He demanded louder as he realized his words were only deepening his mentor's laughter.
"Don't listen to him Quinn, at least you managed to find it" Liane said with a kind smile contrasted only by teasing eyes.
"Ma'am, can you please explain what's so funny?"
Liane was about to respond when Markus stopped her.
"Ho–hold on Liane. I'll tell him."
Trying to school his expression, Markus looked the discontent youth in the face and spoke.
"Quinn, there are two types of people who find their Gallery of War. True warriors who find it amidst steel and blood, filled with a warrior's spirit, and…" He took a moment to stifle a laugh as he grinned. "And those who discover it only after they are safe and dwelling on the emotions of battle. The latter, usually find their Gallery while shaking in their boots, dreading their return to the field. We call them unwilling Initiates!" He began to laugh once more at the boy's expense.
Quinn's face ran red as he realized the implication and hastily made to defend himself. "Wa–! Wait a second! I wasn't scared! I was excited! It's been so long since we returned from the field, I couldn't help but.. But.."
"Dwell on it?" Liane stabbed with a teasing smirk.
"I… I…"
"Haha, relax Quinn. We're just making fun. It's totally possible to discover your Gallery in anticipation of battle. Just… don't tell anyone from the company that you... haha."
"Sigh…"
"Daddy, what is it?" Eve chimed in with a smile that said she didn't know why everyone was excited.
"Nothing you need to worry about little one. Warrior stuff." He said as he ruffled her hair.
"So?" Markus started. "What does your Gallery look like?"
"Umm.. like a grand hall. A ceiling as large as the cathedral in Lenios, with great decorated pillars and large, gold and steel doors. Statues of warriors holding platinum blades and a misty ground."
Markus smiled and nodded at the description. The Gallery of War was a mental and spiritual place. It would appear differently for every warrior who discovered it.
"That makes sense. It's definitely not the gallery of anyone unwilling."
"Dad said it was because I'm a noble, my Gallery would naturally be grand."
"Ron knows nothing of the Gallery. He is not a warrior." perhaps a bit of his earlier annoyance had bled into his voice as Quinn reacted somewhat to his tone.
"Sorry lad. The warrior's path is not suited to everyone, and I wouldn't wish it on him unwillingly."
"No, It's fine. Dad couldn't hold a sword steadily if his life depended on it. But he doesn't need to."
"Thank the gods."
Quinn smirked at the thought. Truly, the gods have mercy. His dad wasn't good at a lot, but he was good with animals, horses especially. As much as he grumbled about his circumstances, he was probably well suited to this life.
The meal passed a lot more peacefully after that, no more embarrassing confessions by Quinn, and no more boisterous laughter. Instead, it proceeded with a warm and calm atmosphere as Markus savored what little time he had left with his family before he'd have to leave.
When the time had truly arrived for the two of them to set out, Markus rose reluctantly, hugging both Eve and Liane deeply. He had a feeling Eve didn't truly understand how long he would be gone, but didn't want to ruin this moment trying to make her understand.
"I'll see you in a few months." He said as he hugged Liane.
"Be safe" she whispered.
"Always."
Walking through the front door once more, he loaded his luggage onto the packhorses with the help of Quinn, and bottled his reluctance, focusing his mind as Quinn mounted up and leashed the animals.
Markus mounted his charger and rode alongside him down the stone roads.
The two soon passed by Ron's stable and gave waves to the man as they passed, leaving the town of Falrum from the east, and beginning their journey southward, to the Dragon Gate, and the fortress being built there.