Aura of the Moon - Chapter 4-6 (Patreon)

Chapter 4

The scheduled patrol completed without any issues. They made it close to the border of Castezin and turned back. Ayla was both happy and sad that there was nothing to do on the long ride back and forth. It became dark as they were returning to the town and there were far fewer people out on the road. Rather than continue straight up to the manor, Miller turned onto a side street a little after they entered.
“Where are we going?”

“Like I said. I'll show you where the soldiers and Knights drink after their shift.”

“Is that alright?” She wondered out loud.

“Have you ever been on such a long patrol? It basically ends in town. So long as it's uneventful we can end in town and have a little fun.” He paused. Ayla was staring at him in disbelief.
“For your information, Rast himself as said it's alright so there's nothing to worry about.”

Ayla nodded, looking to Samson as well for confirmation. The man offered an affirming tilt to his head. “It's true.”

“Why do you need to ask him if it's true?” Miller whined.

Ayla held in a chuckle. “You seem very knowledgeable in the methods of having fun.”

“What a weird thing to say. I'm sure you knew where to go to have fun in the capital.” Miller argued.

Ayla did not answer, because she did not. She found excitement on the battlefield and she had only been to a few events in the Capital. She found it troubling now that her only joy came from lifting a sword.

'Maybe I can have fun in this life? The way normal people would. So long as I work hard, too.' She began to hear music and see lanterns lit. An entire front of a building was opened with tables pouring out into the street. There were fires between each one and people gathered around singing and drinking.

“I'll take the horses and tie them off.” Miller said dutifully.
“Samson, find us a table. Ayla, when I get back you better tell me what you do for fun in the capital!” He shot her a wink.

She laughed. 'I will have to make something up.' She dismounted and handed off her reigns, as did Samson. Miller skillfully lead the three horses around the side of the tavern. Ayla stared up and read the sign. It was half-lit but she could see even in the dark. 'The Wintergreen.' She guessed it was due to the leaves that stayed green all year round. She appreciated the straight-forward naming convention as she followed Samson and the soldiers followed her, leaving their halberds at the door. Everyone piled into a table. A soldier she hadn't properly met yet introduced himself with a handshake.

“I'm Hadley, Dame Ayla. The rolls you gave us were a welcome change to our morning rations.” The man looked positively giddy to be introducing himself.

“Don't mention it.” She said humbly.
“Nice to meet you Hadley.” As a result of her politeness the other four leaned more readily in and began thrusting their names upon her. She wanted to make a point to memorize each of them so that she could continue to fit in later.

“Mark here!” A young soldier with pale blue eyes raised his hand.

“Grayson.” A black haired man included shyly, lowering his helm down over his eyes.

“I'm Mayson.” A dirty blonde announced proudly.

“Born in May?” Ayla asked.

“You got it.” Mayson grinned.
“I'm not a Mason.”

“I'm Tallow.” Said the lankiest of the soldiers.  

Hadley was the average of all of them with dark blue eyes and dark brown hair. He also held the most average build among them and seemed to be between them all in age. Ayla bowed her head. “It's nice to meet all of you; Hadley, Sam, Mayson, Grayson and Tallow. Please help me out, since I'm new and I'm bound to make mistakes.”

“Of course.” Samson remarked.
“Who wouldn't wanna help you out?” She caught him eyeing her and suddenly felt a bit unsure of where he was looking and why. He realized right away and averted his gaze up.
“Ah. Don't get the wrong idea. I'm married. My wife would kill me. She's scarier than a werewolf.” The whole group laughed.
“I think Miller likes you, though.” He volunteered rather forwardly.

“How do you figure?”

“Very few things I've seen that'll prod that guy out of bed before the sun comes up on a day where he's allowed to sleep in.” He smiled subtly, holding up eight fingers high into the air.

Ayla looked up. “What're you doing?”

“They sell one thing here. If you hold up your fingers they'll bring that many to your table. You drink it, finish your mug and keep it right side up and they'll keep bringing them until you die or pass out.”

“Whichever comes first.” Hadley laughed. As she was looking down a pale are passed a drink in front of each person at the table. It was a tall wooden mug filled three-quarters full, with the rest of the space being taken up by foam.

Ayla gripped the handle and tasted it. As soon as it passed through her mouth to her throat she coughed and sputtered. The assembled soldiers and Samson cackled. He patted her on the back lightly. It was both unpleasant and pleasant at the same time.

'I would like to try the bubbly one again, minus the poison... That was good.' She stared down into the one in her hand.

'This is good too. It doesn't taste good, but something about being here with these people and drinking this with them feels nice.' She prepared herself for the second sip and downed a mouthful easily. She began to feel comfortable so she drowned the loud noise of the tavern from her mind and gathered her thoughts.

'The Werewolf plague started, as far as I know, from one unique Monster. It was the Albino. Based on reports from my past life it tore through patrols and preferred to infect rather than kill... After that all of the Monsters that appeared began to behave more intelligently and became stronger in general. It was like a switch being flipped. To find that guy early on in this life I just have to look for the hints. Finding a Werewolf is not actually all that hard. Hair color and eye color transfer over even after they transform, as does gender. It is a rare combination so I just need to find a male albino in Castezin.' As she was thinking and idly sipping, Miller squeezed in between her and Hadley rather insistently.

“What'd I miss?” He asked, picking up the mug that was already laid out for him. He gulped some back greedily, leaving the foam on his lip.

Mayson blurted out. “Dame Ayla! Why kind of man are you looking for?” The other men around the table grinned like hyenas, their eyes lighting up.

Miller spat out whatever was in his mouth that he had just attempted to drink. Ayla looked up and without thinking said.
“White hair, red eyes.”

Miller coughed to clear his throat. “That fast!?”

“I guess Dame Ayla knows what she wants. Good to know for sure none of use are in the running.” Mark scratched his chin.

Ayla blushed. 'It was on my mind so I said it... I didn't expect that question.'
“Kidding. I was kidding.”

“But your ideal man is right over there.” Samson pointed out.

Ayla perked up and noticed a tall, Albino man that must have been in his very early twenties. He wore a black tunic with an apron over it. He was tirelessly ferrying drinks from the kitchen to the tables. She immediately remembered the pale hand that passed out the drinks.
'What are the odds?' She stood up and waded through the crowded tables.

From the table of soldiers half gasped and half whistled and cheered. “She's actually going for it right away!” Grayson whooped, clapping loudly and encouragingly.

Tallow covered his face with a thin hand. “Dame Ayla is incredibly bold.”

Samson grinned apologetically and patted Miller on the back, fitting his arm around the man's shoulder. “Sorry bud.” Miller swayed a bit with a dazed look, then downed his whole mug before swiftly raising a finger into the air.

As Ayla reached the albino he looked past her at Miller's raised finger. “One!” He shouted back to the bartender. He turned back and jumped after seeing Ayla right in front of him.
“I'll bring it to you, Dame.” He offered while bowing his head.

“Not that. Can we talk in private?”

His pale cheeks showed some color and a wry smile crossed his lips. His red eyes seemed to ignite before her. Despite the reaction he raised a hand shyly and asked in a begging tone.
“Not now. We'll slow down in about an hour so come talk to me then, okay?”

“Okay.” She turned around and returned to her seat.

The soldiers, Miller and Samson stared at her closely. “Did- did you get rejected?” Miller asked, on the edge of his seat.

Ayla looked at them, furrowing her brow. “You all are misunderstanding. I just want to talk to him.”

Miller took a deep, relieved breath, patted Ayla on the back and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “There there.”

“I didn't get rejected...” She muttered, finishing her first mug. Another was slid in front of her quickly, before she could put the one in her hands down. She looked back and caught the Albino winking at her before rushing off.
“Does anyone know his name?” She asked after he ferried of to another table.

“That's Hans.” Miller said. Gracefully he admitted.
“He's a very nice guy.”

“I'm telling you, you're all misunderstanding.” She insisted. None of them seemed to believe her.

After an hour business slowed down. As Ayla walked up to him again Hans removed his apron and walked into the back. She followed. It was even quieter in the back room with the cutting bench and the big barrels. Before she could say anything Hans leaned back on the cutting bench and released the top button of his tunic.
“Be gentle, Dame... It's my first time.”

She gave him a frank stare. “This is not why I followed you.”

“I know.” He shrugged, cocking his head to one side.
“I was just curious what you'd do.”

She could not tell if he was serious or not. Ayla eyed him appraisingly. He was in good shape, but he was not big. He was a half-foot taller than her. In short he had a tight body. Then of course there were his snow-colored hair and red eyes. His face had a smooth, androgynous architecture to it around the eyes and cheeks, but his jaw and chin squared off a little, making it more clear once the full picture came into view.
“Are you okay?” It was the only thing she could think to ask.

Hans looked surprised. “Yeah! I got a Dame doting on me. How could I not be?”

“Have you ever had an encounter with a wolf or a werewolf?”

“Glad I haven't. Never want to.” He said comfortably while scratching over one eye. He pulled at his collar.
“Do wanna do a search for bite or scratch marks? Maybe make a few of your own?” Hans teased.

“Please stop.” Ayla rested her face in her hand. She finally showed a blush, which seemed to satisfy the man. He shrugged his shoulders and suddenly became quite serious, his thin lips tightening..

“Why do you ask?”

“J-just a random checkup.”

“I don't think that's what it is, but I'm not being accused of being a vampire so it's actually a welcome and unusual change.”

She looked up sympathetically. In the Holy Knights they would scrutinize heavily any Albino they happened to see out of superstition. Many reports would also come in for those individuals from neighbors. She understood all to well what he must have been going through because of people like her.

“I'm really sorry to bother you.” She turned, unsure what else to say. She resolved to just keep an eye on him.

Hand grabbed her arm. “Hold on!” Ayla stopped and turned back.
“It didn't sound like you were accusing me. I know what that sounds like. But... You sounded concerned, which is strange. That means you know something I don't right?”

“That's right.”

Hand crossed his arms over his chest. “Spill the beans.”

Ayla tried to gather her thoughts. She asked carefully. “Do you ever leave the town proper? Into the woods?”

“Never.” He said truthfully.

“You shouldn't.”

“I'm telling you I wouldn't. I have no reason to and I wouldn't agree to.” He raised his hands.
“I'm a coward. I don't like fighting and I run at the sight of blood.” He seemed far to happy to admit that. She was convinced.

Ayla sighed. She tried to think about what to do. She was stumped. 'Is it a different person?' She shook her head and finally just asked.

“Are there any other people like you? Male and...”

“No.”

“Right so-”

“Whatever it is it's me then, right?” Hans interjected.

“Just tell me... You're making me nervous.” He let out a nervous chuckle.
“I'm a coward, remember?”

Ayla felt bad all of a sudden. Hans genuinely did not look like he wanted any part of becoming a werewolf. He was the definition of the type she should be trying to protect. Soft and scared. Her questions were making him even more frightened. He put on a front with her at the start but he was naturally timid. She dug into her pocket and pulled out her holy symbol, turning it over in her hands a few times as she considered what she was about to do. She gave herself a short nod and exhaled lightly.
“Take this.” She offered it to him in her outstretched hand.

“Woah! What? Is that real silver!?”

“It is.”

“Is it a test? I just hold it and-”

“It's for you. Not a test. You take that and keep it on you. Close to your heart. If anything happens, pray and think of God, the Hero, anything that might give you strength. You wont have to be scared if you have that.”

He looked hesitant to take it. “This is way too much... Why?”

“You said it yourself. I know something you don't. Let's leave it at that.”

He exhaled through his nose and let the large ring fall into his hand. He held it up and raised it to the light to read the inscription.
“'The Aura of the Moon is the Light that Defies Night.' What does that mean?”

“It's just some silly verse. Don't worry about that. The point is, the silver and the holy power will protect you if you have faith.”

“I don't know how to thank you.” He smiled widely and genuinely. She noticed in that moment that Hans was actually quite beautiful.
“At least tell me your name, Dame.”

“It's Ayla.”

He connected the chain around his neck and stuffed the symbol itself beneath his tunic. He patted his heart. Hans stared down at her affectionately.
“I wont even take it off to sleep.”

“Good.” Ayla felt relieved. It may not be enough, but she thought it could at least change something if Hans was attacked.
“I have to go. I will try to keep an eye on you as well.”

“Don't know what I did to deserve this, but I'm glad. Keep as many eyes on me as you want, Dame Ayla.”

She nodded to him and left the back. Hans watched her go. Once she was out of sight he lifted the holy symbol and read the inscription again with a comfortable smile. He held it up to his face and kissed it.
“Truly...  What did I do?” He threw his head back as he tried to steady his breathing and looked up at the ceiling.

Ayla emerged from the back room. Miller was crying. “Ay- Ayla how could you?”

Samson was holding him up. “He's drunk. In case you couldn't tell.”

Ayla stopped and looked at him. “I can tell. Is it time to go?”

“Yeah, it's about time.” Samson sighed, hefting Miller further up onto his shoulder.
“Gotta get this guy to bed.” They began walking.

“I'll get the horses, since Miller is in no condition to.” Ayla offered.

“Thank you.” She left and came back with the three reigns in hand and the horses in tow. Samson waited until she was close before speaking.
“So...”

“It really isn't what you think.”

“Yeah?” He smiled at her, not seeming to care one way or another. She did care, however.

“Nothing is going on. Nothing went on.” Ayla Insisted.
“I swear on my honor.”

“On your honor? Once you lose it you can't get it back.” Samson stated. That stung her deep in a way he would not fully understand. He noticed and added delicately.
“Didn't mean anything by it. I'm saying I'll believe you, Dame.” He lifted Miller onto the back of his horse with a grunt.
“I'm taking this guy back. You take his horse. It's a good trade... Believe me.”

“I will.” Ayla smiled weakly. Samson gave her one last glance before slowly trotting up the road. Ayla looked down sadly.

'I am someone who already lost my honor in my last life. Did I even have a right to swear on it?' She took in a deep breath and stared up.

'What is this second life?'

Chapter 5

Ayla finished stabling both horses. As she left she noticed the nightly Patrol leaving. She watched them closely. It was six Knights and ten soldiers. It struck her as unusual from the start that so many Knights would be assigned to a basic patrol. But all it meant was the Duke really cared about the soldiers and the Knights. More Knights meant the cost to the estate must have been massive, but it also meant that the safety of a patrol was more or less assured. Then there were also many more that could be drawn upon in case of an incident. The Duke himself was someone that she already saw would leave the manor if he needed to. She smiled. It was the first time she really felt pride for being a subordinate. In her past life the previous Knight-Commander was an obstacle to her and nothing more. She needed the power to do what she wanted to do. There was pride in being a part of the Holy Knights, but it felt different. It was something like confidence and reassurance.

“Dame Ayla.” She heard a familiar gravely voice calling out to her.

She turned and saluted Rast. “Yes, Captain!”

He waved his hand. “Enough of that.” He grunted wearily. She released her salute.
“You're observing the nighttime patrol so thoughtfully. What're you thinking?” He asked curiously.

The truth was not something she needed to hide so she shared. “I was thinking that I feel proud of being part of Castezin. It seems like His Grace cares about the Knights and the soldiers and the people.”

A smile almost crossed Rast's lips. “Is that unusual to you?”

“I've never felt that type of thing before. So it is new to me.”

“I guess you haven't had a chance to have a real superior since you're right out of the Academy. It's good to have pride. Feel proud that you chose this place. This is your home and your land now. Look down on anyone outside and punish anyone that mocks it's name.”

She looked at him seriously. “Yes Captain.”

“Haah...” He scratched his head.
“That's dangerous. So you'll just do whatever I tell you? You shouldn't look down on the other people outside the territory. They can't help that they aren't Castezinian.” Ayla's demeanor cracked slightly. Rast noticed and tried to break the tension.
“Go ahead and punish anyone that insults His Grace or Castezin, though. That one is a real order.” Rast bared his yellowing teeth as he grinned at her.

“Yes Captain.” Ayla kept her head down.
“Where on the grounds can I pull water to wash up?”

“The training grounds have a walled drain room for washing up. The water from the well is freezing, though and it takes a while to heat up on the stove at the quarters so don't worry about it on your first day. Nobody cares if you stink, Dame.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

“As you were.” Rast returned in the direction of the manor.

Ayla began walking to the training grounds to find the well and the drain rooms. On her way she inspected the training grounds themselves since she would be using it fairly consistently. Walking around, she saw the training ground border the manor directly. Running along the side of the manor was a covered, stone-pillar walkway that could be used for observation. She found the equipment on the side. Barrels with wooden swords. She touched a few of them, gripping and testing them with a swing. Ayla felt a sense of satisfaction holding them.

'It is good. Better than the Academy. Is it the local wood?' As she held the sword, something at the back of the yard caught her eye. She stepped onto the dusty, moonlit training ground on her way to inspecting a large training dummy. She covered her mouth and gasped excitedly as she realized what it was. The dummy was a cylindrical pillar covered in metal plates with telescoping arms poking out at odd angles. It was like  a wooden porcupine.

'This is an Auto-rotating dummy. It uses Aura to move and track the person using it. These were just invented recently but they have one here? I never got to use one for training but if I remember correctly...' She glanced around to make sure there was not a soul around. She could not hear a sound or sense anyone.

'It was really fun.' Ayla stretched a few times before she readied her wooden sword. There was a circle within the area-of-attack. If one stepped outside of it, it was considered a loss. Naturally, it was a loss for anyone eventually as the dummy would just keep rotating and extending arms to hit the trainee and it would speed up with each target hit. The point was not to beat it but to steadily increase ones reaction time and defenses over time. There was also a game attached to it. If someone could hit a target it was considered a 'point.'

'To my knowledge the maximum number of points achieved in my time was around 108. There was another Nerve Aligned Knight somewhere that seemed to make it their mission to keep the highest score for some reason.' She could barely contain her glee at being able to try one of the dummies out so early.

'I want to try. I will keep my plate on because that will better simulate an actual situation. If my memory is correct the way to activate this thing is...' She tapped the center target lightly with her wooden sword.

Ayla exhaled sharply as she narrowly dodged a swinging arm. 'Fast!' She grinned, slapping three targets in the interval before another arm swung to her mid-section. She blocked while leaning to avoid an arm swinging down at her head. Once the arms were blocked they moved back into position, so she was able to easily swipe and hit four more open targets with ease.

'Seven.' She kept track. Three arms closed in on her at once. She parried one with her sword to make a gap to dodge and ran around inside the circle, stabbing another target before the attacks followed her.

'Down, up, down, guard... It is getting faster already. This is excellent!' She thought, unleashing a flurry of blows while dodging to hit seven more targets in a sprint before she had to use her sword to guard.

'Fifteen! Make it to twenty.' She decided, jabbing a target on the move, then slashing another before she had to again guard and dodge. She was left with no opening for at least a full minute as it felt like endless strikes from every direction. It was impossible for anyone that was not Nerve Aligned to handle such an onslaught of blows. In a sense, the machine was made for people like Ayla. She saw an opening and hit two targets before being forced to jump back. She landed and caught her balance with one foot inside the line then ducked, jumped and ran around the whole dummy while dodging and guarding.

'Come on...' She spotted the opening and went for the target only to have one of the telescoping arms jab her stomach and force her out while a lower arm tripped her onto her back, panting.

“Nineteen...” She did not reach her decided goal, but she felt incredibly satisfied with what she could do. Most importantly, it scratched at least part her itch.

Ayla felt sweaty after challenging the dummy. She returned to the well she had found before with a bucket and ladle, then pulled up some extremely cold water. She ladled some into her mouth, drinking it in big gulps before carrying it over to the drain room. She untied her hair, letting it fall loose. Carefully she removed her plate, placing it in one of the holes for equipment and clothing. Ayla removed and folded her uniform by first taking off the jacket and pants, then the undershirt and socks. She placed everything neatly on the plate cuirass and entered the drain room in just her underwear. Once she was in the sealed room with a slightly sloped stone floor she removed her undergarments and sat on a stool in the center.

Ayla stared hesitantly at the cold water before just inhaling and ladling the cold water over her body. Before she even touched the water, the room was freezing at night. The water paradoxically felt like fire pouring over her skin. Her muscles tensed and her body shivered but she was able to endure it just fine. It was only the feel of it that mattered, she thought. It was still cold and it still burned her skin and made her flinch, but she could ignore those feelings easily. She ladled water to wash over all of her worst offending areas then finally just took the whole bucket of cold water and dumped it over her head. She let it wash through her hair.
“Hoo...” She breathed, her body shaking. She began quickly scrubbing a few places, then moving towards the door. She stopped.
“Hello?” It sounded like there was someone outside the door.

Without saying anything, the person outside threw a towel over the door. Ayla took it gratefully. She closed her eyes and tried to listen. The tapping of shoes that arrived at a point in the heel, suggesting it was a woman. She could hear the swishing and rubbing of loose clothes with many layers.
“Thank you!” She shouted.

'Why would a maid come out to help me?' She dried herself off then left the room to redress herself. Ayla returned to her dorm, trying to think about what it could have been.

'I tend to get a lot of attention from women for some reason.' She decided. Once that was figured out in her view, she contemplated the training she just did.

'My body at this time is unable to catch up to my senses, and my senses are worse. Right now I am very beatable. If I run into one of the later Werewolves here I will be a goner.' She remembered Hans.

'If he turns into The Albino I'm done in that case, as well.'

Chapter 6


Ayla's heart was beating quickly. Her hands were hot from tightly gripping her sword and her whole body was wound tight. It was the feeling she felt when she was participating in a battle. The smell was right. Blood. It was like that night, when there was so much blood that the scent could not be carried away by the wind. She felt something over her right shoulder so she turned, narrowly avoiding a Halbard jab and returned with a jab into the man's neck. She stared at the one she just killed and it took a few seconds for it to sink in.
'Grayson? I just killed-' A pit formed in her stomach.

“Why are you doing this!?” Miller shouted at her, moving himself into a rudimentary stance. He was wearing a cowled helm but she could tell it was him. He held his longsword in both hands and kept his stance low.

Samson, standing near Miller pulled up his shield and placed his shortsword in a position to jab if she attacked. “It's no use Miller. It's no use trying to talk to these Zealots. The Holy Murderers, is what most people call them.” He gritted his teeth. More Knights readied their blades as Samson and Miller and the soldiers closed in on her methodically.

Ayla felt it should have been different, because her knowledge told her they were innocent. That they did  not have to die. Instead, even though her mind protested, her face twisted the same as it did back then. Rage and indignity.
“That is Blasphemy!” She uttered in a condemning tone, pointing her sword.
'No... They are just normal people.' Her mind could not reason with her body. She targeted Samson first. He raised his shield to block and soldiers ran up to flank him on either side, creating a wall of men that would have penned any normal Knight in.

'Samson has a wife.' She thought as everything played out just as it did before. Ayla concentrated her Aura onto her sword, then readied a very precise stance and made a wide horizontal slash across the entire formation. Her Aura licked out from her sword in a crescent. Samson negated it with his shield and his Soma, as did Miller, but the men all around them were done for. Those that could raise their guard had their weapons cut and a deep gash carved into their chest while those that were too slow were simply cut in half. No individual with meager Soma could defend against an attack using Aura. She knowingly struck in the most efficient way possible in order to kill them quickly and move on to just the Knights. She feigned forward towards Samson so that he would lift his shield and then wheeled around at a speed that was far too quick to react to. This version of her body could keep up with her senses and no average Knight ever could do the same. It made her untouchable. With a flick of her wrist Samson's head lifted from his body, and his body tumbled down like a puppet with cut strings.

“No!” Miller cried out. He charged as more Soldiers and Knights began to reinforce.

'Why is this happening again?' She lamented.

'Why can't I move the way I want to?' She smiled cruelly as she easily guarded each of Miller's attacks. She had some time to play with him.

“For a Thrall you have an extremely simple manner of attacking.” Ayla gloated.

'What am I saying? He is a person!' Her hesitant mind began to feel the dissonance of what her body felt while in a fight; Excitement and joy. She loved the feel of combat, everything about it. She loved challenge, she loved subjugation, she loved-
'Murder! It's just murder... I do not like it, I swear!' But her face was flush and suggested otherwise.

'At that time, whether I thought they were thralls or not I- I was excited for murder... I did not care if they ran, begged or could put up a fight... Making them thralls in my mind allowed me to feel excitement in killing them. That is why I am a-'

“Monster!” Miller spat at her, once he realized he could not so much as touch her with his sword. As soon as she heard him plant that moniker on her she gritted her teeth and finished him quickly. Ayla was not used to being called a monster, even after so many years. An annoying label, to her, who hated their kind more than anything.

As the bodies all fell to her so easily after Miller, the Second and First Prince rode up the hill to meet her. Caelin whistled as he stared across the field of the fight. There were at least seven Knights and twenty soldiers that fell before her.
“How's the Quality up here, Ayla? Was it enough to satisfy you?” He asked in a cheerful tone. She did not understand at the time, but with her hindsight she understood that the Princes considered her a dog that could be leashed and unleashed at their leisure. She had things that she loved to do, and many things that she did not understand or care about, and that made her incredibly easy to use, from the Princes perspectives.

“Not too good.” She shook her head and wiped the blood from her sword methodically.

“Most of the quality Knights were guarding the town. We thought it would be reversed.” Nealin laughed. She clicked her tongue at the realization. If she knew she would have opted to swap.

“We'll make it up to you next time, Ayla.” He promised.

'The only part of me that was different from them was my status. I was happy to stand by their side. I was fine dying for them and taking the blame... None of that affected me.' She could only cringe internally as she spoke without ability to stop the words from leaving her mouth.
“How strange.” She stepped over some of the bodies and kicked them to check for survivors.

'It is only strange if you do not understand His Grace cares for Castezin. You fool.' Ayla made her way towards the entrance.

“Remember, Ayla. All these people are thralls.”

“Yes.” She smiled happily.
“I like it when it is simple.” In her mind she felt sick, though her body was pulsing.

'Stop it... I can no longer stand this person... Why am I seeing this?' She whined. She dreaded the rest of the dream that was to come. In the past the things that happened in the manor did not stop at murder. There was torture, forced confessions. The entire place would become a bloody horror.

As she reached the door it burst open and the Duke lunged out, slicing a scratch across her cheek. It was too fast to react to. “You found me.” He said coldly. As she looked closer, however, there was a strange twinkle in his golden eyes.

She felt the blood, she could move her body again for one simple reason. It was a reason she could guess and it terrified her.

'This never happened.'

The Duke smiled at her. “Did you enjoy killing my people?”

Her lips curled into a smile she could not control. Her head nodded. The words were forced from her lips. “Y... Y... es... Yes!” She breathed and readied her sword.
“Caelin! Nealin!” She called out but did not feel them at her side. She began to shake.
“Huh?” She looked to her left and right, then back. She was alone.

The Duke chuckled. “Almost every Knight wants to challenge themselves. Then there are perverts who get off on killing even those weaker than them. Someone who's mind is not right. They think of their opponents as ticks on a board. What does that sound like?”

“Your Grace...” She dropped to her knees and tried to let go over her sword but her hand could not stop grasping it.
“I'm sorry...”

“Answer.” He looked down his nose at her as she lowered herself further.

“Monster.”Ayla admitted.

“That's right.” He cooed.
“A madwoman that kills my people in her dreams.”

She shut her eyes tight. “I- I do not want to, Your Grace, I promise! Please believe me I want to change.” Sweat rolled down her back, over her forehead and down the center of her chest.
“I can change...” She muttered, opening her eyes. She was laying down in her room. Ayla sat up and felt her temperature.
“I feel sick..” She stood up regardless and donned her uniform. It was muggy inside her coat, but she was still shivering. She blew her nose.
“Ah...What should I-” As she wondered what she should do she eyed the Cowl-helm she was given in addition to the cuirass. The helm given to the Knights was more like a hood of chain lined with fur that had a solid face guard at the front.  
“This could work.”

Miller noticed immediately as soon as Ayla left the quarters with the helm on. He covered his mouth with the side of his fist and chuckled.

“I guess you realized how cold it gets. You can't just dress for how it feels when the sun's up. Even Samson and I bring our helms with us just in case it gets cold.”

Ayla nodded, grabbing her horse that he brought for her. “You should let me grab my own horse. People will start thinking I'm lazy.”

He grinned stubbornly. “We're comrades so doing this much is fine.”

“Maybe I'll get up earlier to do it myself.”

Miller mounted his own horse. “If you wake up early, I'll have to wake up earlier than that and if I have to wake up earlier than that I'll get sick.” he claimed.

“Is that so?”

Samson groaned. “Don't let this bastard get sick. He's gonna expect me to nurse him back to health.”

“You two are that close?” She spoke softly, trying not to cough or breath strangely.

'Even in my dream... Even back at that time the two of them were partners.'

“I can't escape from this guy because we're neighbors.” Samson complained.

“Neighbors?”

“My property is next to his, but Samson is super old. Way older than us.” Miller claimed, obviously teasing the poor man.

The Knight rolled his eyes. “Yeah... I was old enough to look after you when you were dripping snot. Maybe our new Knight wants to hear-”

“No no! That's not necessary!” Miller insisted.

“Then be nice. I'm only six years older than you... I already found a wife when I was your age, by the way.” As Samson said that Miller clutched his chest as if he had been stabbed.

“Please... You're so cruel.” He whined.

“You both own property?” Ayla was not surprised to hear that, but she had not thought about it until this moment. As she considered the signs, Miller did sound like a last name.

“It's not that odd, is it? We had the luxury to train and become Knights because of the property our families owned. Otherwise we would be working someone else's land for scraps.
“It's probably the same for you, right Ayla?”

“I am actually a commoner that would be working someone else's land in any other circumstance.” Ayla said it with no bitterness, but the two men could not help but look to her apologetically.
“I have no last name. Were you both given names?” She knew that most last names were attached to land or titles. They were granted by the charter that granted the land to them and tended to be appropriate to the land that was given. In her past life she was bestowed the last name of the entire March she was granted after the conquest of Castezin.

'I wonder if I should have said anything? I don't care one way or another. The only name I need is the one I was given at birth, but to others this type of thing is important. I may be looked down on, now. It was always like that at the Capital.'

Contrary to what she thought, both Samson and Miller looked at her in amazement. “Holy shit! You became a Knight as a commoner?”Samson remarked, holding his head.

Ayla looked down and said bashfully. “It's not that impressive.”

“Tell that to those guys back there.” Miller pointed to the formation of soldiers marching behind with a wide grin. Ayla looked back to see their cheeks red with their eyes as big as saucers.

“Dame...” Hadley held his hands up in prayer.
“Do you think I could become a Knight?”

“That-” She was searching for a polite answer.

Thankfully Mayson interjected playfully. “If an idiot like you can become a Knight then this territory is doomed!”

“I bet I could become a Knight 'because' I'm the right kinda idiot!” Hadley argued. The soldiers laughed and Miller and Samson laughed with them. On the tail end of the laughter Ayla found herself cracking a little. She couldn't help but let out a short laugh, followed by a few rough coughing fits that she cut out swiftly by holding her mouth. She looked up to see that Samson and Miller were staring at her.

“Hey...” Miller began.

“Are you okay?” Samson asked seriously.

“Yeah. I'm fine. I swallowed saliva down the wrong pipe.”

They both sighed, looking relieved. “Got it.”

Ayla tried to change the subject. “You both have names?”

Miller flushed a little as he said. “You can call me Zach, if you like, Ayla. Prefer we stand on even ground since I call your name so often.” He gave a cheeky little bow.
“Zachary Miller. 'Landlord.'”

Samson joined in. “Ryan Samson... But call me Samson.” He beamed. Ayla nodded to him with respect.

“My father was a Knight that was granted land. Names ending with 'Son' are a northern tradition. Typically I would have that as a first name and it would tell those all around who my father was. Since he got land, he decided to give me both names to mix the traditions. He made sure our lat name was Samson and gave me the other name I have.”

“Grayson, Mason...” Ayla repeated out loud.

The two of them smiled. “That's right. Those are our only names, though.”

“Don't get me wrong. I'd be proud even if I only had one name, since it's the one I was given by my Dad. Ayla, you should be proud, too. You've done something few people can do.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “Thank you.” She felt bad.

'I killed this man in my dreams last night...'

Miller laughed. “Samson is an idol for all the Northerners living in Castezin!”

“Don't say something so stupid in front of me.” Samson gagged.

Ayla breathed steadily. She enjoyed the conversation. 'Being with these two is more fun than being with those brothers. I feel light when I am around Samson and Miller. Samson as well... He reminds me a bit of my own Father. His attitude is about right.' She almost laughed as she imagined him in her head cursing her out for implying he was old enough to remind her of her old Father. As she held in laughter she felt a sharp jab in her head.

'Ah... That is right. I'm sick.' She closed her eyes and sighed.

'My head hurts and my body is sore... All it is is pain, though. Get through it.'

As the patrol wound down and the sun was dipping below the trees Ayli moved to separate herself from them.

“Oi, Ayla!” miller asked.
“Aren't you coming?”

“I'm sure your man is working.” Samson teased. He absorbed a dirty look from Miller.

She tried not to raise her voice too much, otherwise her sickness would show in how she sounded.

“I'm going to go back early and rest tonight.” As hard as she tried there was still a faint rasp to it that she could not avoid, but she guessed it was fine.

They nodded and left for the tavern. Ayla slowly made her way up the path towards the Manor. She made it through the gates. She brought her horse to the stables and looked after him and fed him before leaving straight for the quarters.

“Hey!” She jumped as she was just about to get to the door. It was Miller's voice.

“Yes?” She turned.

“Remove your helm.” He dismounted.

“I am going to do so inside.” She argued.

“I'm not asking, Ayla.” He said with a sternness she had not heard before.
“I'm telling you to do so as your senior here.”

She sighed heavily and lifted the cowl-like helm off of her head. What she revealed was a flush face with her silver eyes darkened below. Her expression was subtly pained, as she had been enduring all day. Miller clenched his fist.
“God damn it...” He stomped towards her.

“I- I'm sorry. My work wont be affected I promise. I can still go on-”

“No you can't!” He shouted in her face harshly.
“Get inside!”

Ayla was speechless. She allowed herself to be lead to her room. Miller stood at her door, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I'm sorry for yelling. Don't do anything. Get into bed and stay there. Leave your door unlatched. I'm gonna be back soon.”

“Okay.” Ayla felt a lump in her throat. She disappeared into her room and left it unlatched as he asked. She removed her armor and uniform and did not even bother folding them before climbing into bed as obediently as a scolded child. As soon as she pulled herself under the covers the chills washed over her. Exhaustion hit her. She could last throughout the whole day but it was like hitting a wall the moment she stopped.
“Uhhn...” She whined.
“Dammit, my head...”

After what felt like an eternity Miller returned with a bucket of steaming water filled with items, and a bowl of something that smelled savory. He placed the bucket beside her bed and the bowl on her nightstand. He pulled up a stool beside her bed and sat there, covering his mouth with his hand. It seemed like he was holding something back. Finally he took a deep breath and pulled a cloth from the bucket. He rung it out and placed it on her forehead.
“Miller...”

“Shut up.” He grumbled.
'This isn't the south, Ayla.”

She breathed heavily. “I can-”

“Listen!” He rose his voice again before quieting down.
“Knights are the best tool to kill Monsters, but sickness and the cold up here kills Knights and commoners and anyone that underestimates it all the same. You can die here. It wouldn't be strange for you to not wake up if you just ignored how you were feeling without telling anyone. If you did, who would be here to watch our backs?”

“I'm sorry, Miller.” She eyed the bowl.
“And thank you...”

The man smiled weakly. “I just did what I could do. I called the doctor, too.”

She frowned deeply and tried to sit up. “I don't want to cause trouble so soon after I-”

Miller pushed her down easily. “You already caused trouble.” He paused.
“Ayla... If you can't take care of yourself here I'm going to recommend to Rast you be relieved of duty.”

She lay back, recognition washing over her. 'It is probably the kindest thing he could say. It seems like it hurts him to say it, too. Miller is not the kind of man to yell or act forceful from what I have seen so far, but he became so serious.'

“Understand?” He asked insistently.

Ayla closed her eyes. “It's sinking in. I owe you... Really.”

“If you get better, consider us even. I'm going to wait here until the Doctor arrives.” True to his word he sat like that for close to an hour. At some point he decided to help her eat the soup he brought. After that he kept fussing over her, replacing the towel as soon as it started to cool. As time passed Ayla began to feel light-headed. Delirious.

“Miller...”

“Yeah?”

“Back at the Tavern that night you were sad when I came out from the back?”

He looked embarrassed and scratched his cheek. His eyes avoided hers. “Ah, is that so? I was a bit drunk, so forgive me for making a fool of myself.”

Ayla nodded her forgiveness. “Miller.” She looked at him.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me? This is-”

The man threw his head back. “This- this doesn't have anything to do with whether I like you or not. I just don't want someone to die in my care.” He seemed sullen. She could tell that there was a weight that he felt from some unknown source. It pulled his shoulders down and his posture forward. Hung his head.

There was a knock on the door after they shared a very long silence together. Miller let a man in. He was a tall, pale man with hair graying at the sides and short dark hair on top of his head. He looked down at Ayla grimly.
“So... How did we get sick?” He asked.

“Do you know, Ayla?” Miller coaxed from the door.

“I... Wanted to be clean so I took a cold shower at night. Could that be the reason?”

They stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief. The Doctor cracked a smile. “So... We will be putting this one out of her misery tonight?” He uttered in an annoyed tone.
“She is already so eager to die, no?” The man had a very faint accent that sounded of another Kingdom.

“No! No...” Miller rubbed his eyes.
“Oh my god, Ayla.” He sounded exasperated.

“What?” She rasped.

“You are so stupid...” he looked as annoyed as the Doctor. A vein was poking out on both of their heads. Miller left and the doctor sat down.

“You know... Normally it is common sense that the body does not want you to bathe in cold water in the cold.” The Doctor said in a demeaning tone, taking the stool that Miller sat at.
“Every part of you should tell you that it is not a good idea.”

“I-” She coughed.
“I don't have trouble with pain so I thought it was fine.”

He took in air through his nose. “Ah, you are just like that psychopath, I see...”

“Huh?” She stared at him questioningly.

“The one in the Manor. The one people call a Duke for some reason I can not understand.” Ayla blinked. She assumed she was still just being incredibly out of it to mishear to such an extent.

“Nerve Alignment, is it?”

“Yes.”

“You have endured a great amount of pain for great return. But, just because you can endure does not mean you should. It also does not mean that your body is capable of keeping up with your will. You hear me?”

“Yes.” Ayla nodded.

“Good. You have a strong constitution. You will be fine if you rest and keep movement to a minimum. Stay warm. Your body fights the sickness best when you are warm. Drink and eat warm things and remain warm even if you sweat and it is uncomfortable. Sleep as much as you can, do not try to stay awake. It goes without saying you will not work while you are sick. If this persists... You will be buried without a coffin in the woods, so focus on getting better.” He said sweetly, patting her hand gently with his old cracked hand once he was done.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Surprised by the curt responses to his strange speech, he stood up and bowed. “You are welcome, my dear. I have a feeling your caretaker will be back. Be kind to him in the future.”

Ayla closed her eyes. Sleep was not hard. Not as she was now. She simply drifted off as soon as she was left alone.