Fate weaver’s convergence

 

The sound of squabbling filled the air as words flew about within the wilderness. Four adventurers were arguing over the results of a hunt, the inconsistencies of their collected trophies raising concerns over their totaled reward. They were mostly younger in years, yet one was old enough still to be a guardian of the former three himself. The party was diverse in local races, consisting of a female elf, a female beastkin, and two human males. They had half a day's travel at best to their destination, though it did little to ease their nerves about the subject when concerning pay. The argument was, in hindsight, pointless, something they'd chosen to endure over the boredom of walking for hours on end. A more pressing matter than any had considered fell within their lap, with little warning to their party to consider. There was the sudden echo of yelling, something that, at first, was nothing of concern. It was the next moment that changed that fact, prompting much worry as something stumbled from the forest. A girl, no older than possibly eight suns of age, an arrow, bloody and glistening, struck through her chest. 

 

“I’ve got her!”

Hatsumi, a war mage and the group's beast kin, said shakily, flowing mana onto the wound as she replaced blood at the same rate the small girl lost it. The white dress was soaked; it was everything Chessa, the elf, and scout, could manage to raise the shirt without turning the girl over. Small bubbles of blood formed upon the wound on the girl's chest and back.

“She’s breathing again.”

Chessa very carefully grabbed at the front of the arrow shaft, clenching it tightly as she broke the tip.

“On three!”

Chessa spoke as clearly as she could manage. They were accustomed to rendering medical aid, but for such impromptu treatment and for a child of all things, unsettled them with unpleasant memories.

“One.”

The two kept watch of each other as they readied their mark.

“Whoever fired isn't far behind. I can hear them down the hill!”

Stannis, an ex-Paladin, one of the men, spoke with urgency, raising his kite shield and mace. Tapping the blunt weapon against the shield's frame, Stannis urged Callum, the other human and swordsman of the group, to join him as a wide section of hexagonal shapes formed in front of them.

“Two.”

Chessa muttered, slowly prying the shaft out of the girl's back.

“Three!”

The elf yanked the wooden shaft free, blood flowing profusely from the entry and exit wound. Hatsumi, doubling her efforts, now had the means to seal the wound and stabilize the girl.

“Hatsumi! We're gonna need you here!”

Callum yelled, the blur of assailants shuffling out of the woodline prompting urgency in his voice. Hatsumi grabbed Chessa's wrist just as the elf reached for her short bow.

“Take over from here.”

Hatsumi ordered, her ears at attention as she attempted to tally the numbers of their visitors through sound alone. 

“Aye.”

The elf dropped her hands to the child's wounds, mana flowing likewise into the same stitching pattern typical of a career healer.

“I'm up!”

Hatsumi yelled, her body rising with the speed of an experienced warrior yet the fluidity of an actual war mage. Electricity crackled wildly as a string of lighting stretched between her palms, and a shaft of light rose from either side of her enclosed fist. It was as if she drew a bow of light, the noise settling as she held ready to unleash the magic. 

 

 

---

 

 

Confrontation… set point… … … fresh start… awaiting convergence…

 

 

 

---

 

 

“Withdraw your arrows! Withdraw! Withdraw!”

They screamed over eachother, Hatsumi, Callum, and Stannis each as they faced down a group twice their size in numbers. Nearly a dozen soldiers, ragged, filthy, and bloodied but still clearly bearing the colors of Orion. Four of the soldiers knelt, bows knocked and drawn, while a fifth stood at the ready with a ball of flame twirling within his right hand. The remaining soldiers took to an ad hoc formation, the men at the front leveling spears just out of range to lance at Stannis or Callum. Either human had their weapons at the ready, Stannis his mace and shield, Callum his Longsword. Hatsumi stood ready just behind them, aiming between their shoulders at the opposing mage. Neither group was able to make the first move, wary of the clear results as soon as they initiated their offense. The adventurers knew they were outnumbered, whereas the soldiers very clearly understood that they faced heavily experienced adversaries. 

Where even did they come from?! This is the middle of nowhere!

Hatsumi reasoned within her mind, her eyes jumping from target to target before finally settling on the enemy mage, his eyes wild and strangely inhuman. The colors of Orion, the crest of the Church of Orion emblazoned upon each of their tunics. They were bloody, worn, and filthy with stains from plants and soil. Each was of the races of man; elf, human, and dwarf.

“Withdraw!”

Stannis and Callum each continued yelling, and Hatsumi glanced over her shoulder, seeing Chessa hard at work before looking back. The brush parted behind the soldiers of Orion as one final figure appeared. A man, just as ragged and tired as the others, donning armor underneath his tunic, denoting him as a paladin. His brows furrowed as he locked eyes with Hatsumi, his grip adjusting around an arming sword in his right hand. At first, he seemed absent-minded about the altercation about to unfold, his eyes falling on the child as he observed Chessa’s healing. He breathed in, raising his chin as he attempted to address whoever could hear him. 

“Steady your arms!”

He yelled, visibly thinking over his words as he uttered them. His armor clanked randomly as he slowly parted the rear element of his men, stepping in front of the mage and directing him to the rear. 

“To whom may I know the pleasure? A meeting such as this would be fortuitous, given different circumstances.”

The Paladin spoke, slowly placing his sword into a sheath concealed by a shield on his right arm. Hatsumi’s group quieted, allowing the Paladin to speak over escalating the situation. 

His body language… He’s on edge…

Hatsumi eyed the human, picking him apart mentally. His movements were mechanical, too tense to truly anticipate a peaceful resolution. Stannis nodded over his shoulder, prompting Hatsumi to entertain the response.

“Regional adventurer team, A-class, Revenants.”

Hatsumi spoke curtly from her position at the rear, her throat nearly drying out from tension. She maintained the arc of lightning crackling between her hands. The paladin, nodding to the ground as if he expected such a development, took a glimpse at each of his men.

What is he doing? Assessing their condition?

The tension was climbing, the signs of a considered outcome becoming evident in his expression. That was, until the paladin sighed audibly, placing his hands on his hips. 

“We are soldiers of the church, the church of Orion, lawful judiciary, and pursuit team of the Morusian branch.”

The paladin glanced at the girl, and he seemed to grimace like he'd been slighted. 

 

“I bade you hand the girl over to us.”

He spoke evenly and with clarity as if he’d practice some unseen authority. 

Is he mad? Does he think it is not obvious?

Hatsumi grimaced.

“I seem not to have your name, to which I may address you.”

Hatsumi struggled to maintain her own calm, her voice wavering as adrenaline audibly influenced it. The paladin took her response in stride, nodding curtly as if to apologize. 

“Sir Sto-ar. Paladin of Orion. Officiate of the eagle's grounds.”

Hatsumi glanced over her shoulder, Chessa shaking her head “no” from her periphery.

As if I’d comply with a request like that.

Hatsumi clenched her teeth.

“In good conscience, one could not hand over a child in such condition to the church.”

Hatsumi searched Sto-ar’s expression. 

I’ll play your game for a moment–

“Why the child? Why so dead set on killing her that we find ourselves at odds?”

Sto-ar nodded, placing his hand along the top of his shield. 

“She is charged with heresy, and I would request, once more, that she be turned over.”

Sto-ar seemed set on murdering the child, his eyes glimpsing at her once more. An audible cough resounded from behind Hatsumi. The child was struggling still, even as Chessa constantly gave her all. Hatsumi was unable to take her eyes off of Sto-ar, sure that he seemed resolved to exploit any immediate advantage. It sounded as if the child was still coughing up blood. Hatsumi shook her head. 

“The charge for heresy in any territory, Imperial or otherwise, is not death, however.” 

She seems near– no! No exception! 

Hatsumi fished for some sort of affirmation from Stannis and Callum, each maintaining their position as if they knew her likely course of action.

For the love of Nyx’s breasts, please let this work! 

“Under no pretense will we hand her over.”

Hatsumi spoke with renewed vigor, sure of her course regardless of the consequences. Further thoughts only encouraged her thoughts of escalating the conflict herself. 

They carry themselves with no authority. They aren't within their borders and try as they might, Brenton would receive at least some form of warning about the incursion. 

Sto-ar clenched his jowls. 

“I assume you back yourself with authority. You carry confidence such as to seem a member of the court.”

Sto-ar spoke flatly. 

“With the authority of Baron Frederick Victor Cranton, lawful, imperial appointed ruler of Brenton and its appointed territories.”

Hatsumi caught her breath, swallowing her spit as she felt her pulse peak for a moment. 

This is too odd. They carry themselves too well to be outlaws, yet they have little local knowledge to impress their position. 

“Should you be of the persuasion you can take our party with the sufficiency to avoid alerting the city, I can simply–”

Hatsumi raised her arms, the crackle of electricity growing in intensity as she pointed skyward. 

“I could simply alert the city of incursion. I am sure that the ensuing turmoil alone would warrant your own lives forfeited. For this girl alone to be charged with death, would the church be weary of gifting a paladin's head as restitution?”

Hatsumi squinted, praying that her words, considered a bluff or not, would be considered.

“Save the fact that escalation would result in a city losing its stay in team. Would you not be weary of such a conflict to follow, especially so soon after the siege?”

Gods, I pray to you all–

Hatsumi paused, Callum glancing over his shoulder before looking forward again. 

“It has only been a few years, Sir Sto-ar. The war is fresh in memory, and not Brenton, Kraków, nor Francia would shy at the thought.”

Don’t let us perish here, not with her so close to salvation. 

Sto-ar seemed to bite the bait, his sleepless eyes seeming to bite at the words regardless of their credit. Hatsumi capitalised on the thought, choosing to choose her next words sparingly. 

“Shall I notify the guard of our territorial threat? Paladin of Orion? Inform them of peril?”

The beast woman held as much mana through the arc bow as she could manage, its drain of mana now taxing her mentally. 

For the love of the Gods, take the bait. Turn around, murderer. It will cost you nothing to abandon this girl. 

Sto-ar spoke, his expression falling dark as his weary eyes seemed to pier through Hatsumi’s soul, then into the girl.

“It is regrettable to find oneself at such a dire impasse. However, we share little hope for her survival.”

Sto-ars word seemed to carry ire for the child. 

“Let it be known, should this child stray into Morus, she will be executed upon apprehension. Though we can afford little trouble with the good Lord Cranton.”

Sto-ar spoke as if to cede the girl into the custody of Hatsumi’s group. His hands waved at the spearmen while his few archers withdrew into the forest. The mage alongside him, ghostly in complexion now, seemed to glisten red within his eyes. 

That one sees blood. 

Hatsumi felt a chill along her spine, unable to cease her flow of mana until the entirety of the soldiers disappeared first from sight, then until they could no longer be heard through the forest undergrowth. 

“A close one there.”

Hatsumi audibly sighed, her mana dissipating as she slowly knelt. 

“Chessa?”

Hatsumi asked, looking at the elf whose nervousness drove her to sweat as if in a marathon. 

“She’ll live, however, I can’t check for any other effects. Something seems to be limiting any identifiable system information.”

Chessa’s flow of mana ceased, moving to hoist the child in her arms. 

“Nngh– It would be best–”

Chessa hoisted once more, doing her best to princess carry the girl close to her.

“It would be best to get the girl to Lorn post haste.”

Hatsumi nodded, Callum and Stannis moving to pick up their dropped marks and supplies. Taking the marks from where Chessa dropped them, Stannis yelled out. 

“We’ll handle the equipment. Chessa has the girl, so it would be best for you to carry that sword and bag, aye, Hatsumi?”

Hatsumi tilted her head, looking at what she assumed was a staff that the girl had dropped. Her ears stood at attention as she picked up the large weapon. A greatsword, holding runes and symbols from the south. It seemed to ornate to simply be some random forged iron. Callum looked the blade over as he settled Hatsumi’s pack across his chest. 

“By Solah–”

Callum whistled. 

“That’s a piece of work not many can simply find or tout. Reckon this is why they wanted the kid?” 

The swordsman questioned, his brother, Stannis responding. 

“Must be. You can feel the mana bleeding from it.”

Hatsumi looked to the child, then back to the sword. 

“By the Gods, she fled with this?!”

Hatsumi hefted the steel, pulling itself from its sheath momentarily, the strangely immaculate sword drawing both her and Callum's wonder. 

“I doubt it, though; it could be a clue just the same. However, we’ll have to wait until we get back to speculate. Lorn may need to look into this further.”

Hatsumi hefted the sword over her shoulder like a fishing pole. 

This thing is heavier than it would let on, though. Did she run with this? For how long?

Hatsumi shook her head.

“With any luck, we will arrive by sundown; let’s get moving.”