11 The Lone Shadowdark

Wroe proved himself a skilled and brave sword fighter, as Barza greatly hoped. But as the first guard cried out, another came. And soon after, came another.

Barza looked at Dragan worriedly, "Mister Dragan… Should we…?"

The massive brute, comically crouching behind a bush, pursed his lips and shook his head with incredulity, "Nah! He'll be fine!"

"But Mister Dragan--"

"Look, man," Dragan pointed all the fingers of his hand at Barza repeatedly, to emphasize, "We gotta stick. to. the plan."

Barza, again, stealthily peeked beyond the protective bush.

Tarquin Wroe stood tall, an eerily imposing image. With his shining metal breastplate and pauldrons, along with his unfailing smile and flowing, silky smooth hair, he was the perfect portrait of a legendary hero.

But as Wroe fought the guards, Barza could see the man's movements begin to slow and his breaths become more labored. Wroe had even sustained a bruise on his left cheek and the leathers on his arms and legs had taken a couple of superficial cuts.

Through the opened door of the manor, Barza heard the clatter of leather and plate-- yet another squad would be arriving to further outnumber Wroe. Barza regripped his two swords as Dragan rolled his eyes.

"You aren't gonna stick to the plan, dude?"

"Mister Wroe needs help. And if you won't do it, I will."

"Well, alright, man. Just don't be surprised when Boss rips you a new one."

Barza furrowed his brow and looked away in deep thought, 'I thought Tarquin said that Boss-- I mean Sir Tycon didn't like the hide-in-the-bush plan.'

He shook the useless thoughts away, "Doesn't matter. I'm going."

Barza leapt to the side, allowing his shoulder to smoothly transition him into a combat roll. Righting himself, he sent a quick upward slash to deflect a guardsman's warspear before she could strike at Tarquin's blind spot. With a turn, he used the momentum to disarm another guard, the resounding clang sending the longsword flying across the yard, several fulms away.

He stood beside Wroe, whose face had taken on a jovial and somehow more-amused smirk. Faced with Wroe's soul-piercing blue eyes, however, Barza couldn't help but look away.

"I h-hope you don't mind me joining you, Mister Wroe."

Wroe held his sword, pointed strictly upwards, to his smiling face, a knight's militaristic dueling pose.

"Not at all, Mister Barza. I was beginning to fear I'd be the only champion tonight."

Barza looked to Wroe in awe. His spirit was roused and the fear that had gripped his heart was replaced by pride.

But seeing his dashing, androgynous figure… Figurative swirling fish swam circles in his stomach.

'...W-wait, am I falling in love? No way! I'm only into short-haired girl-next-door type girls! Ones named Sorina!'

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"Here they come again, Mister Barza!" Wroe warned.

The pair fought valiantly for a few exchanges, the energized Barza swinging his blades with zealous ferocity.

'This is it. I'm working for Sir Tycon now. And I have to protect my new life with my own two hands!'

"Back off!" Barza roared, swinging his blades in a cross-cutting arc. A few guards jumped back to dodge, but Barza's target took two deep gashes on his leather-armored chest.

"You cut me, Barza, you BASTARD!" the wounded guard yelled.

Barza hesitated and retreated a step back, "I uh… Sorry, John."

"Watch out!" Wroe yelled.

Barza lifted his blades reflexively in a cross-pattern block, receiving a heavy blow from a halberd. His body was drenched in sweat from fighting, and he felt his stiff muscles struggle and strain to push the weapon away. A swift kick to the gut from the halberdier ended Barza's struggle, as he rolled backwards and to his feet.

The mustached and bearded Guard Captain Varen spun his halberd in a smooth flourish.

He pointed to his guards, "You two, get medical supplies. You, the blonde girl, get Miss Seldin."

The three guards stood and responded in a series of salutes and 'Yes, Captain's. As a credit to their military training, they ran off, not daring to look back.

"And you, Barza…" Varen shook his head, "Are the Shadowdark Wolves rebelling against House Tavor?"

A nearby bush snorted with barely-contained laughter, but Barza quickly answered to avoid suspicion.

"Guard Captain Varen… The Shadowdark Wolves are no more…"

Barza wiped the blood from his mouth. Varen's kick and the fight reset made him realize that he was injured. Furthermore, his two swords were damaged in the clash. He tossed the two of them away, drawing another blade and his hatchet.

Slowly and deliberately, Barza held his weapons forward in a combat pose, "Now it is only I... The Lone Shadowdark."

The nearby bush shook with thunderous laughter, followed by a single man's applause, and an 'ohhh, man.'

Varen, Barza, and the guards looked over to the bush behind Wroe. The tall blue-haired boy shrugged and smiled with his eyes closed, opting not to say anything.

Varen cleared his throat to continue, stroking his neatly trimmed, peppered beard.

"Even so, Barza, why don't you stand down? You know that you're no match for Seldin," the older man reasoned.

Barza shook his head, "I can't... Captain Varen, a young boy's gone missing."

Varen's face darkened with a frown, "Those are just rumors, Barza. There is no proof that Baron Tavor participates in such vile--"

"Just rumors, Captain? The rumors keep coming! And people keep going missing! And you and I both know that no one's mounted an investigation-- even the Adventurer's Guild hasn't been able to intervene!" Barza yelled back.

It didn't make sense. He'd worked with Guard Captain Varen before and he was an honest, fair man.

"That's because there's no evidence!" Varen exclaimed, the volume in response trailing, helplessly.

Wroe stepped forward, his sword sheathed, and his hands folded. "If I may, gentlemen..."

Varen and Barza glanced at each other, before again turning to the tall, lanky boy.

With a gentle smile, the boy's eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight, "There is a dark mist surrounding the manor. There are equally dark forces at play, perhaps the kind that requires a blood sacrifice?"

With a look of worry, Varen shifted uncomfortably, "That's a heavy accusation, young man."

"My eyes see the truth that most would prefer never come to light," Wroe replied simply.

"But still, it is an issue that should be submitted to the Adventurer's Guild... They can request for a Scholar or Priest to verify, then an investigation can be launched."

Wroe gave a disinterested shrug, not bothering to verbalize a response.

Barza yelled, trying to make the Guard Captain see reason, "There's no time! A life is at stake!"

Guard Captain Varen weakly smiled, "So I suppose there's no chance that the two of you would relinquish your weapons and come quietly?"

Barza stretched his arms, again resuming his combat stance, "Sorry, Captain. I won't be following your orders, anymore."

Varen gave a defeated nod, turning to his guards and raising his voice, "The Shadowdark Wolves have turned traitor to House Tavor. Your orders are to detain them until Seldin arrives."

Turning to Barza, Varen assumed an offensive stance, ready to bring the oppressive weight of his halberd down again upon the young man.

"I had hoped to be civil, on account of you being friends with my niece. 'Tis a shame, Barza!"

"That's not my name, old man," Barza grit his teeth. With a yell, he leaped into the crowd of guards, a flurry of steel, recklessness, fear and adrenaline.

"MY NAME. IS. THE. LONE. SHADOWDARK!!"