Chapter 31: Shadows of The Past.


    “You keep your head down while speaking to me!” The Crimson Knight roared, and Alfie watched the woman he was speaking to cower away in terror.


    She had been asking for water for her son.


    She would get none now.


    The Knights had overrun the town, twenty one strong, yet each with the cruelty of a dozen men.


    Their takeover had been swift, as no one was willing to fight at the sight of Cain dropping her blade, and now the people of Stradale kept to the shadows once more for fear of what might happen if they were spotted by their cruel overlords.


    Alfie tried not to hate Cain, tried not to blame her for giving up on the fight, but found himself unable to resist. It was foolish and emotional to think so, he knew, if they had fought then Stradale would be burning right at this very moment and Mercury would be toying with their corpses.


    Still, it hurt to just give up.


    The Grays for their part simply lounged around. gorging on food and engaging in idiotic shows of strength in order to entertain each other.


    They were Knights, the chosen hand of Demon kind upon man. They had nothing to fear from peasants with pitchforks and torches.


    But they would have something to fear from Alfie.


    He too was hunched in the shadows. But Aflie wasn’t cowering, he was hunting, hand wrapped tightly around his weapon. His executioner’s axe, two handed, single edged and with a sharp toe at the top. Five Grays sat around an open fire, chattering away fondly about days past.


    Their plate was discarded, leaving them only in wool and a few even chose to take that off too.


    Trapped around one of their arms was a young woman. Mildred was her name, daughter of Jarrick. She had been picked from a crowd by the man who now held her to him and Alfie had no intentions of letting him see to his machinations with the girl.


    He had no intention of letting any of them see past this night even.


    I can take them by surprise.


    Alfie reassured himself.


    He’d die right after killing them, he knew, but he’d die fighting.


    His mind raced, his stomach churned and fear gripped his heart, but Alfie only gripped his axe harder in turn.


    I’d rather die than be a slave again.


    He thought of Selvas, his little girl, what he wouldn’t give for just one more conversation with her.


    And then he was charging towards the killers.


    He swung and rid one of their head before the fight had even started.


    With a roar he kicked another into the fire before he could get up and then the remaining three were grabbing at their weapons while Mildred fled in terror.


    One grabbed his hilt and died right after. Alfie pulled the blade out of his ruined skull too late to avoid being slashed in the side with a sword.


    The blade rang across the flesh over his ribs, turning Alfie’s roar into a cry, and for a moment he found his knees weak.


    A second blade from another attacker came, but Aflie was already ducking back.


    It missed his face by an inch and Alfie closed the distance with a headbutt, crushing the man’s face and crumpling him to the ground.


    He turned around, eyes on the man who’d managed to strike him. There was terror in his eyes, surely he’d expected his blade to cut deeper than it actually did.


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    He turned to run, but Aflie was upon him in moments, He was swinging his axe at the bastard when a blade blocked his path.


    A Crimson’s blade, the wielder encased from head to toe in blood-red armor.


    His axe’s edge slid against the enemy’s blade, causing sparks to fly in the cold night and Alfie’s anger to rise.


    He saw the one who’d been fleeing, turn around to join the fact and Alfie knew he had his work cut out for him.


    So he began working.


    The Crimson Knight’s blade came at him fast like a whip and Alfie, already injured, just barely managed to dodge it.


    He’s faster than his friends.


    Does the armor improve your Might?


    No, Crimsons were just that much removed from regular guards. Save from Selvas perhaps, Alfie doubted any other Stradalian could match this enemy armour or no.


    The unarmored one stalked behind the plate and threw angry stabs at Alfie as he tried to put some distance between him and the pair.


    More than he’d have preferred hit the mark, breaking skin and adding yet more injuries to impede his movement while he blocked off the more heavy attacks from the plated foe.


    He couldn’t keep backing away, he had to face them head on.


    He came in with an angry swing, so fast, so brutal and so sudden that the armored one panicked and instinctively backed away, slamming into his ally behind him and catching a blade to the helm for his troubles.


    The blade missed, then Alfie slammed the toe of the weapon at the red helm.


    The sharp metal connected, shattering the helm like glass and spraying fragments of red crystals onto the earth. That was odd, Knight plate didn’t seem to react like steel did to kinetic energy. More like a ceramic.


    He didn’t have time to ponder that now however, he had an enemy to kill.


    The Crimson Knight stumbled back, half of his helm ruined, blood running down his face from an open gash. Alfie could see the pale freckled face of his enemy, the panic in his eyes.


    He was still standing though, still alive, injured, but not nearly as much as he would have had he been without the helm.


    So that’s why they wear the plate.


    They weren’t much stronger than steel, yet still hard enough to hinder piercing damage.


    Like a gambeson, made to resist stabs instead of blunt force.


    The foe behind the armor was the real threat however.


    He was this man’s superior in every way, and if they had fought on equal terms, Alfie was certain he would come out on top.


    But if he had to fight two of them at once or godforbid there was another Gray here, then all he could be certain of was that he would at the very least manage to ruin their armor.


    The Crimson glared angrily at Aflie, as if disgusted that he dared to strike him. The expression was one he’d expect from a Demon, not a human. It made his blood boil with rage.


    This man, this fucking spineless cretin really does think he’sabove the rest of us humans.


    Alfie had no choice, he had no choice when he killed people, had no choice when he slaughtered the men and women his torturer told him to.


    But he did.


    “I’m going to feed you your own testicles when this is over with.” He hissed and didn’t recognise his own voice, it was something different, something distant, dark and angry, so, so angry.


    The Crimson cocked his head curiously, placed a hand on his ally’s shoulder and shoved him into Alfie.


    Alfie caught the man, saw the other moving in to stab him and in one swift motion, shunted the unarmored Gray into the path of his superior’s thrust.


    The blade sunk deep into flesh and burst out of the man’s chest.


    The man was still pulling his blade out of the other when Alfie’s attack came.


    He raised his axe high, gripped it like a hunter might a dagger, and stabbed the metal spike down into the hole in the monster’s helm.


    “No wait-” The man who had forfeited his humanity began. But Alfie had not an ear for scum.


    The edge buried itself into the bastard’s eye, broke through the back of his skull and exploded out of his helm.


    The corpse spasmed, face twisted in terror and surprise, then slumped into the dirt.


    He heard a ruckus exploding outwards from the chieftain’s home. It was where the bulk of the Knights were resting.


    They’d have heard the sounds of their men dying, they’d be coming out now, armor donned and runed blades at the ready.


    There’d be fourteen of them left, all on mounts, all seeking vengeance for their fallen allies. Alfie didn’t stand a chance, but that didn’t matter, he’d make sure to cut at least one down before it was all over.


    He took one last look at the skies, two moons, one blue, one silver. He’d like to say he’d miss this place, but he wouldn’t.


    A part of him, though, wished he could stay just a bit longer.


    Alfie paced towards the building, rage in his veins. He was expecting death to meet him the moment he stepped into the compound, what he saw was something else entirely.


    Cain stood defiantly, face smeared with blood, ground littered with corpses of armored Knights around her. Alfie moved to help Cain but caught himself upon realization that none of the blood was hers.


    The woman looked tired, but unhurt.


    There was a look in her eyes, like malice given form. When she looked at Alfie he couldn’t help but grip his sword and brace himself for what he was convinced would be a frenzied attack from her.


    None came however and the woman spat on the dead men. “That’s all of them.” She rolled her neck. “More are on their way now, we need to prepare for war.” She hissed, getting to her feet.


    They’re all armored, and unlike me she didn’t surprise them…


    “Who were you?” Alfie found himself asking.


    Cain met his eyes with apathy, as if the decision of whether or not she was going to answer him was based on the flip of a coin. “Someone you don’t ever want to meet.” She told him, and he believed her.