Prologue - A Broken Blade
One year, five months, and three weeks ago
Thaler pushed his chest off the ground with a gasp. ‘I’m alive?’ he thought in wild amazement, and took a deep breath.
He fell back to the ground, coughing up dust and ash. This time, slower, he pushed himself off the ground and got to his feet. His hand covered his mouth as he took shallow breaths. His eyes darted across the landscape. The last thing he could remember was driving his sword through the warlock’s belly...and then everything turned red...and then black.
Where there was once a blacksmith’s shop and houses, there was next to nothing left. ‘How long was I out?! The buildings were still here during the fight.’ All he could see was ash. The green grass had been completely burnt away, and many of the houses had collapsed on themselves, if there was even a trace left. There was only a charred landscape to be seen.
“Rael!” he shouted, “Rael, can you hear me?” Last he saw, Rael had been facing the warlock by himself. He had to still be around.
For nearly one hundred breaths, he searched for survivors, but only found more ash, more dust; and a handful of charred corpses. But then, he saw a familiar glint of light in the ruins of the blacksmith’s house.
“Rael!” he cried out, “Rael, are you in there?” If that light he saw was what he thought it was, Rael should be in there.
Vincent limped through the wreckage of the house, making his way to the light. He could see a shine of metal from underneath a pile of burnt wood.
“Rael! Is that you? Can you hear me?” he said, tearing apart burnt wood and tossing what he could not break over his shoulders. “Rael, I’ll get you out of there! I’ll get y-Oh.” His voice started strong, but ended with a whisper. Just as he thought, there was Rael’s silver sword underneath the debris. The blade was cracked down the middle, threatening to tear, yet the hilt remained in perfect condition, small silver baubles placed on either edges of the crossguard. Yet beside the battered sword, there was no charred corpse, there was not a body of any kind, alive or dead. Only a faintly human shaped outline of dust next to it.
“Rael,” he whispered, “Where are you?”
One Year, Five Months, Two weeks, six days ago
From Temrin’s throne room, guards were stationed throughout the hall, still nervous from the sounds of battle that had taken place hours ago. Yet the Viscount merely looked down at Thaler with a stern face and his brows furrowed, his outfit just as regal, his figure just as composed. The Viscount’s legs were crossed, and his hands were clasped, resting atop his lap.
“So Rael and his companions are all dead?” He asked.
Vincent Thaler merely looked down at the floor. The carpet was blood red, and he had tracked black all over it.
“I found the bodies of some of his companions...the alchemist, the priest. But there was no sign of Rael, or the mage.”
The Viscount’s eyes popped open, “You mean…!”
Thaler raised both his hands in protest, “No, no. I found the ashy corpse of the Warlock. The Silver Dagger mage, though, I haven’t found any trace of him.”
“And what of my agent, Lyla?” He asked, expectantly, “She had just escaped the noble’s mansion and sent me her report. What of her?”
Thaler grimaced, and looked back down to the floor, “We found her body as well, hidden under the corpse of the desert-man. They died helping him face the warlock, it seems.”
The Viscount gave a depressed sighed from his throne, placing his head in hands. “I...I see. Then it seems that Rael, and all their secrets, died with them.”
Thaler looked back up, his brow furrowed now, and his face in a scowl, “We don’t know that-”
The Viscount burst from his throne and slammed his foot, “Enough!”
Thaler stepped back once.
“I know,” the Viscount exclaimed, “I know! Rael could be alive, and just as well I wish he was. But we do not have the resources to go on an investigation to find him. For all intents and purposes, he is dead! Am I clear?”
Thaler nodded gravely, “Yes, of course.”
“Well then…” The Viscount looked around. Not just Thaler had stepped back, but all the guards had started to shrink away. He had never made such a dramatic display before.
“I...I apologize,” The Viscount said, returning to his throne and assuming his previous position, “It appears we are all under a great deal of stress. Nevertheless, Thaler. What do you propose, that we do next?”
“We’ve gathered what able bodies we can and have set to work clearing the outer wreckage. It’ll take several weeks just to do that.”
“If nothing else, it’s a place to start,” the Viscount surmised. “Very well. Is there anything else?”
“I believe we need to rebuild and reinstate the Silver Dagger as a division of the city guard.”
The Viscount’s hands left his side, and he pushed back his crown slightly, “I’m sorry, what? It sounds like you said that you wanted to rebuild the Silver Dagger.”
“That is what I said, yes,” Thaler replied.
The Viscount’s eyes widened briefly, and he leaned in from his throne. “I...see.”
“You may not be aware, my lord, but I hated the Silver Dagg-” Thaler began,
“Oh, you made that abundantly clear, Guard Captain,” said the Viscount.
Thaler stiffened for a moment, and flushed red with embarrassment, “Yes, well, regardless, I hated the Silver Dagger. But the fact of the matter is, thanks to them, only the part of the city is burnt down, instead of all of it. If it took only five people to save this city, imagine what we could accomplish with twenty? Even just ten should be extraordinary.”
“Hmm…” the Viscount brought his fingers to his chin, “It would be a lie to say that I had not thought the same...and while I am inclined to agree with you, you know we don’t have the resources to rebuild it right now.”
“No, I’m aware...we can’t make a brand new building for them just yet, but we can start designing a curriculum, find some guards who could transition into.”
“We?” The Viscount asked.
“Well, I can,” Thaler said.
The Viscount chuckled, “I thought so. You are right though, it may be good to start with something now. I’ll send word to my cousin in Elburgh, he may be able to provide us with some books and scholars. They may be lacking in manpower, but the Duke’s library should be substantial.”
Thaler nodded his head, a wry smile crawling across his face, “Excellent… if that’s all then, I’ll return to the reconstruction efforts.”
“Yes, that will be all, Thaler.”
Thaler turned on his heel and gestured to the guards, “Alright men, let’s get started.”
Chapter 1 - A Blade Reforged
Today
“Let’s get started…” Thaler said, stepping out of the barracks, making his way to the new Silver Dagger building. He walked along the winding streets with his eyes always straightforward. He had walked these streets for so many years, he could almost do it with his eyes closed.
He stumbled slightly as his foot caught on a fallen plank of wood.
But the city has been changing for months, and his muscle memory of the city had lost much of its effectiveness. New roads and streets were being developed, many had to be rebuilt, while others were gone entirely. Now Temrin had a constant feeling of being both nostalgic and unfamiliar at once. 'Will it ever feel like it used to?' he wondered. 'Probably not'.
He knew this for certain when he stood outside the the Silver Dagger office. To say that it was built hastily would be a lie, although not a total one. Though Thaler had wanted to build the new Silver Dagger headquarters out of stone, the neither the viscount nor pragmatism would allow it. Just like the old one, the Silver Dagger was built mostly out of wood. An ornamental silver dagger banner was hanging from the door, but had gone otherwise undecorated. Merely two reinforced windows, one on either side, and the door was studded to help prevent anyone from breaking it down. It was a good thirty steps away from 'It's not what I wanted, but it will have to do for now.' It was placed roughly fifty strides away from the old Silver Dagger building, which had been replaced with a wide sparring ring.
Everything was set to be safer, more secure, and more effective for new recruits.
Now he just hoped that people would actually show up.
