A Pact of Brotherhood

Asdras felt his body tremble as he and Brian nestled near the weapon shack in the church's courtyard. Originally, their plan was to perch on the church's ceiling near the bell, savoring the nocturnal panorama when the sky was clear and the moon bathed the world in silver light. But their contemplation was interrupted when they spotted Joe and Raffin walking steadily toward the old tunnel. Brian had identified a concealed path allowing them to eavesdrop through the narrow cracks.

Asdras's heart pounded as he listened, the words echoing in his mind, causing him to doubt everything he'd been taught. His knowledge of the world was little, limited to the survival basics and combat techniques Joe had taught. More intricate lessons were promised should he choose a path in the military or academy.

When he heard the mention of curses, Asdras stared deeply at his hand. Moonlight danced upon the crow etched into his skin, making it shimmer as though it might take flight at any moment. For a fleeting second, he swore he saw the crow move.

'I'm a cursed… But what does that mean? Will I be like that man? Joe told me that being cursed isn't bad, but… I don't know'. Asdras thought.

Shaking his head, Asdras glanced at Brian. His friend was gripping the spear in the weapon stack with such force that Asdras could see his hands trembling, uncertainty etched across his face. The sight tightened a knot in Asdras's chest.

"Are you good?" Asdras asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Brian seized the spear and drew a worn iron sword from its sheath, the blade scarred from countless battles. With a swift motion, he tossed the sword to Asdras, his grip loosening as the weapon sailed through the air.

Asdras caught it effortlessly, feeling the weight and coldness of the iron against his palm. "Woods?" Brian asked, his gaze shifting between Brian and the sword now resting in his hand. The sword was a basic iron blade, more marked by battle wounds than value, its surface marred with deep scratches and dents. He observed Brian's face, seeing the flicker of restlessness shadowed by a profound sadness.

'Woods… I think he too is shaken,' Asdras thought.

Nodding in agreement, Asdras rose, his movements synchronized with the soft crunch of snow beneath their boots. The cold night air nipped at their faces as they walked away from the village entrance, taking the path less traveled. Passing a drunk old man humming a sorrowful tune, they nodded respectfully as his dog barked softly at their approach, though the man's heavy eyelids betrayed his disinterest.

The woods loomed before them, their dead trees stark against the winter sky. Light filtered through the barren branches, casting long shadows over the freshly fallen snow that glistened with frost. A distant mist curled around the forest floor, swirling mysteriously between the gnarled trunks. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine and the faint whisper of unseen animals. Tales of wandering beings in these woods haunted the villagers' nights, stories of spirits and shadows that led travelers astray.

As they ventured deeper, the silence of the forest enveloped them, broken only by the soft crunch of their steps and the occasional rustle of wildlife. The path wound through the skeletal trees, each one standing as a sentinel against the darkness. The moonlight danced on the snow, reflecting a pale glow that provided just enough light to guide their way. The faint mist seemed to come alive, swirling around their ankles and disappearing into the depths of the forest.

Brian traced his reflection in the polished spear's staff, his eyes distant as falling snow dusted his shoulders. "Promise me," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of their unspoken fears, "we don't break. No matter what."

Steel clinked softly as Asdras laid his sword against the spear. "Promise."

Brian's grin returned, brittle but familiar. "Fight me."

They circled each other in the snow-covered clearing, their boots crunching rhythmically on the frozen ground. Asdras watched Brian's movements with practiced eyes, noting how his friend's grip tightened on the spear shaft, betraying his inner turmoil.

The first clash came swift and sharp — Brian's spear darting forward like a serpent's tongue. Asdras deflected it with a precise sword movement, the steel singing in the winter air. Brian recovered quickly, using the spear's length to keep Asdras at bay while seeking higher ground on a nearby snow-covered log. The wood creaked treacherously under his weight.

Asdras pressed forward with controlled aggression, his sword weaving patterns in the air that caught the weak winter sunlight. Brian met them with increasingly daring maneuvers. He used the trees as pivot points, spinning around their trunks to launch unexpected attacks, sending sprays of snow and bark into the air.

The dance continued, their breaths forming clouds in the frigid air. Sweat froze on their brows despite the cold, and their movements kicked up swirls of snow that danced around them like spirits. Brian attempted a risky sweep with his spear's shaft, trying to catch Asdras's legs, but Asdras read the movement in his friend's shoulders before it fully developed.

A well-timed punch sent Brian tumbling to the icy earth, not out of aggression but as a momentary pause — a way to reconnect. As drifts of snow shifted around them, Asdras couldn't help but reflect on their training together.

"You lost again, Brian," Asdras said, grinning as he offered his hand. "But that spear attack was impressive."

"Aw, c'mon!" Brian spat snow, his right hand clawing at his left eye, now swollen and smeared with mud.

Taking his chance, Brian's spear shot forward in a straight thrust. Asdras stepped back to deflect it, but his heel caught on a rotten branch frozen haunch. The world tilted. Instead of falling, he lunged forward, closing the distance in a reckless tackle. They crashed into the snow, weapons skidding away — spear to the left, sword to the right.

Elbows dug into ribs. Knees jabbed. They grappled like feral dogs, Asdras gripping Brian's wrists, Brian twisting to buck him off. For a heartbeat, their faces hovered inches apart, breath mingling in ragged clouds.

Brian's left eye was a swollen slit, and Asdras's lip split and bled. Then Brian snorted — a wet, ridiculous sound — and Asdras's shoulders shook. The laughter hit them both at once, raw and gasping, until Brian wheezed, "Get off, you sack of turnips—"

They rolled apart, clutching their sides. Asdras spat blood into the snow and offered a hand. Brian took it, his grip calloused and unsteady, then immediately bent to brush clumped ice from his trousers.

"Look at this," he muttered, flicking a wolf hair off his sleeve. "Like fightin' in a butcher's midden."

Asdras eyed the mud streaking Brian's face and chuckled softly. "Next time, we fight in a better terrain. Are you good?"

Brian stretched his arms overhead, joints popping. "Better'n last week's training. At least this made sense." He smirked, thumbing dried gore from his sleeve. "And you?"

Asdras tilted his head, brow furrowed as if deciphering a riddle. The sword trembled faintly in his grip. "I think so."

They sat in the snow, their blood boiling, making their bodies feel warm despite the biting cold.

"So, why do you think?" Brian breathed deeply, his voice steady.

"About?"

"What we heard."

"Oh," Asdras replied, scratching his nose. "I don't know… I mean, every time we tried to ask, the answer was the same, and each time you risked trying to get some notes or books from Joe, you didn't find nothing… I guess I'm lost as you."

"Me? I'm not lost," Brian retorted, waving his head. "Adventures, no? Awakening our powers, going to the city, facing monsters…. Maybe finding a tavern without trolls involved."

Asdras looked at his hand, recalling flashes of memories where fire coursed through his veins like a leopard — he didn't remember much, but the sensation of flames within his blood was unmistakable.

A brief moment of silence overcame them. The crisp winter air was filled with the scent of pine and the subtle rustle of snow-laden branches. They felt isolated in the vast, unknown woods, the only sounds their own heavy breaths and the distant howl of a lone animal echoing through the trees.

Asdras's keen eyes flickered, catching a glimpse of something unusual moving near a wooden house in the village. He elbowed Brian, pointing his finger for his friend to see.

At first, it was a mere wisp — a pale white light that danced and took on a spectral form. As they strained their eyes and focused their senses, a simultaneous realization struck them like lightning. In hushed unison, they spoke, their voices barely louder than night whispers.

"Is that a child?" Brian asked.

They watched in disbelief as a small, pale figure, barely visible in the darkness, floated closer to the village. It glided like a wraith, its movements both graceful and eerie, as if one with the shadowy night. The thin veil of fog blanketing the landscape seemed to embrace the child, shrouding it in an ethereal cloak.

As the apparition approached, it came within the flickering torchlight marking the village boundary. For a brief, heart-pounding moment, the pale figure remained illuminated by the warm, flickering glow.

The child's form became more defined, revealing tattered clothing and a mournful expression that sent shivers down the observers' spines. But then, as if the torchlight had uncovered a hidden secret, the apparition began to dissipate.

It dissolved into the air like mist, leaving no trace of its presence. The fog that concealed it closed in, swallowing the apparition until it vanished completely.

Asdras and Brian exchanged wide-eyed glances, hearts racing with astonishment. Both stood up and gripped their weapons tightly.

"That," Brian pointed his finger, "what is that?"

"A wandering being?" Asdras mused uncertainly. "A creature? Or maybe we imagined it. We're tired after all."

They stared at each other, feeling the woods more unknown than ever, which prompted them to head back to the village.

"Let's go. Tomorrow we ask old Joe," Brian suggested, walking toward the village.

Asdras shook his head. "We can't. You know the rule of being outside these hours. We can't risk losing the chance of going to the city."

Brian paused for a moment before resuming. "Let's ask ol' Tom tomorrow then."

"Agree. Let's go sleep then," Asdras nodded.