I'll See You Again Someday

by Nekuia, orphan_account

Summary:

He never meant to fall this hard for the Heir of the Covenant.

Chapter 1: Tides Will Bring Me Back to You

The Heir of the Covenant had awakened a few days ago. The castle—no, the entirety of Ezera was in uproar. Finally, the Goddess had heard their prayers and awakened her Heir to save the world from ruin.

It also meant the time for war was near.

The past few months, there had been no shortage of monsters popping up and ravaging the land. The Conclave had received several requests to deal with such monsters, but the number only grew as time passed despite Ezera's best efforts. There simply wasn't enough soldiers to dispatch to deal with the ever-growing influx of monsters. Therefore, the Heir of the Covenant's awakening was a sign that the terror would soon come to an end.

 

---

 

It was just Vildred's luck he was assigned to escort the Heir of the Covenant to the Breezy Plain. A report had been made stating the Archdemon's Forces was sighted there two days ago. The area was uncomfortably close to Ezera's borders and one had to think what the Archdemon army was doing there.

Either way, this was the perfect chance for the Heir to show Ezera what he was capable of. After all, if he couldn't even take out a fraction of the Archdemon army, then how would he expect to take out the Archdemon itself?

Vildred walked through the halls of the castle with his gear packed and ready for the mission. Whispers of the Heir of the Covenant still floated about the castle even days after his awakening. Vildred had yet to see the Heir himself, but he'd heard talk of how young he apparently looked despite having lived for thousands of years.

There were legends and historical records of the Heir's feats dating back to centuries ago stored in the libraries. Most of the Heir's time was probably spent sleeping, though, as he was only awake when the invasion of the Archdemon came. But this time he woke up later than expected for some reason. People had begun to think he wouldn't wake up in time for the Archdemon's invasion at all.

Reaching the designated spot where he was supposed to meet up with the Heir, Vildred found the rest of the party already there, excluding the Heir himself. He couldn't take too many soldiers with him on this mission; it would only restrict their mobility. Still, he made sure to have two Soul Weavers assigned instead of the usual one—though if the Heir was as good as everyone said he was, he shouldn't need much aid. Vildred had yet to see his skills in action, and he would rather see it firsthand than listen to baseless rumors.

Where was the Heir though? Ten minutes had passed and he still hadn't shown up. They were all waiting on him now. Vildred considered getting the guards to search for him in case something actually happened to him, but then he heard footsteps running toward him and then a crash.

Vildred was almost toppled backwards but managed to catch himself and the person who ran into him. "Who are you?" White hair. Blue eyes. Those were the most prominent features he noticed.

"…I'm the Heir of the Covenant." Stepping back, he took in his surroundings. Everyone was looking at him after the spectacle he made of himself. His eyes darted back to Vildred. "This is where we're supposed to meet for the mission, right?"

"Yeah." Vildred frowned. "Where were you?" They were supposed to have departed already.

"Ah… sorry, I got lost. It's been a while since I was last here." The Heir rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not too late, am I?"

The frown on Vildred's face softened as he remembered the Heir had just woken up a few days ago after hundreds of years being asleep. It would make sense things would be different from when he was last awake. He really was as young as they said he looked, too.

"It's fine. Let's just go. Have you packed everything you needed?"

"Packed everything?" The Heir went wide-eyed. "I forgot…"

Vildred's frown was back on his face. "What did you spend all that time doing then?"

He averted his gaze. "Trying to find this spot."

Great. Just great. The Heir of the Covenant was a clumsy idiot. First he crashed into Vildred and now he forgot it was common sense to pack things for a mission. Was this really the savior that was going to save the world from ruin?

Vildred sighed. "Do you want to go get prepared now then? You'll probably need someone to show you the way, won't you?" That someone being Vildred most likely.

The Heir shook his head. "No, it's fine. I've wasted enough of everyone's time already. Let's just leave for the mission now."

Vildred didn't bother to argue that. "Fine, let's go." He made the signal to leave the castle.

The Heir followed beside him, and Vildred held a hand out to him. "Anyway, I'm Vildred. General of Ezera. I'll be guiding you for the most part on this mission."

The Heir smiled and took his hand. "Ras Elclare. Nice to meet you."

Vildred slipped his hand away. "If you have any questions about the current era, just ask me. I'll try my best to answer."

"Okay. Thanks."

The conversation dropped afterwards, and it was silent for most of the way as they headed to the stable to retrieve their horses. Once everyone got a horse, they departed for the border of Ezera. The civilians all came to witness the Heir of the Covenant as they traveled through town, which slowed them down. There were whispers of awe as they passed by, and a few had even blocked their way before getting pulled aside by guards, but the group eventually made it to the outskirts of Ezera.

After passing through the security check at the gate, they officially left Ezera to begin their journey.

With the map open, Vildred tracked the route they were taking, aiming to take the safest one possible instead of the fastest as his mission was to protect the Heir. He didn't know why he had to protect him when the Heir should be fully capable of protecting himself, but a job was a job. Ezera wanted to make sure the Heir would live, and would risk no expense of soldiers or lives to throw away to guarantee his safety. And with the General here, the mission should have a low chance of failure.

"We'll go south to Levulin first, then west to Breezy Plain. Heir, I'll help you stock up on some supplies when we're at Levulin since you forgot to pack." Vildred closed the map, stashing it into his bag, and directed everyone to follow him.

"Thanks," the Heir said. He didn't say much in general, and that was fine with Vildred. It probably would've been more annoying if he was the talkative type.

The journey there was uneventful, and while they encountered a few monsters along the way, they took them down fairly quickly. Eventually the other monsters seemed to get the idea to leave them alone, giving them an easy time traveling. In the forest, the monsters there weren't really hostile. The more aggressive ones were farther out into the land.

They reached Levulin at noon, and upon reaching the square Vildred told his soldiers they were free to do whatever they wanted, but to meet back at the square one hour later. As the team dispersed, the other members likely going to dine at a restaurant during this break, Vildred pulled the Heir aside.

"Okay, is there anything specific you need to get?" he asked.

The Heir fumbled for words once he realized Vildred was talking to him, gripping the reins on his horse. "No, I don't think so."

"Are you sure?" Vildred's brows arched up. He wasn't really convinced at that statement, mostly because the Heir looked like he'd been out of it all day. Or was just that how he usually was?

"Hmm, maybe some snacks for my Guardian to keep him sated on this journey?" The Heir said, smiling fondly, speaking to Vildred with familiarity, or maybe it was because they were talking about his Guardian. "He gets quite annoying when he's hungry."

Vildred shrugged. "Sure. It shouldn't be hard to find any snacks here. There's a lot of stalls around Levulin. Where's your Guardian anyway?"

"Huh? He's not here?" The Heir blinked, looking down and all around for his Guardian. Horror flashed across his face. "This is bad… He must've sneaked away back at the square to steal some food!"

Vildred almost face-palmed right there, but refrained from doing so in front of the Heir. Not only was the Heir slow on the uptake, he couldn't even keep his Guardian in check. And what kind of Guardian was low enough to steal food like that? Vildred was looking less and less forward to this mission.

"So should we go look for him now or do you still want to get some supplies?" Vildred asked, not eager to do either. He just wanted to get this mission over with as quickly as possible and go back to his usual work. He'd never really liked escort missions, and of course the Conclave just had to land him with the most important person in the world, so he couldn't mess this up or else he could lose his entire reputation.

The Heir paused to think about it, but eventually decided on, "Let's get supplies first. I'm sure he won't run away if we have snacks to lure him back."

Vildred didn't know whether to find it relieving or sad that the Heir knew his Guardian would come back by being bribed by food. He decided not to dwell on it as it wasn't his business what relationship the Heir had with his Guardian. "Alright. Let's get going then."

They went around town, buying various sweets and snacks the Heir said his Guardian would like. Vildred didn't know what kind of Guardian liked eating cakes and candies, but it wasn't his call.

"So tell me about this Arkasus of yours," Vildred said as he finished paying for the food. Apparently the Heir had no money considering he just woke up a few days ago, so Vildred was paying everything for him out of his own pocket. He made it clear he was expecting to be paid back though.

"Hmm, well, he looks like a fat cat… is the best description I can come up with. Or cotton candy. He's a bit fluffy."

Vildred furrowed his brows. "In the paintings I've seen, he's depicted as a canine beast."

"Oh, that's just Arky—er, Arkasus in his transformed form. Usually he's in his smaller one since it takes less energy."

Vildred rode on. "Hmm." Then he realized he was being stared at, and looked back. "Why do you keep staring at me like that?" The Heir had been doing that for a while now, and while Vildred ignored it thinking he was just zoning out of it, now he couldn't stop himself from asking when it was obvious the Heir had a severe crush on him. Though, he couldn't say he wasn't flattered if even the Heir of the Covenant had fallen for him.

That seemed to snap the Heir back into it. "What?" Frowning, he lowered his face. "I was just thinking about something. Sorry, it's nothing." Then he straightened up with a smile that didn't seem all that convincing. Suddenly he was talking a lot more, shedding a layer of that stoicism. "Let's go get the supplies now. We don't have time to waste, right?"

Vildred looked to the Heir's back as he went on ahead.

…What kind of reaction was that? This entire day so far just proved the Heir wasn't how Vildred had expected him to be like. All the records documented his amazing feats, but not how he was a clumsy, slow-minded person. Vildred just couldn't believe his luck that he was stuck with him. Not only for the duration of this mission, but probably during the Archdemon war as well when that time came.

Starting his horse to go after him, they went on to get some supplies next, most importantly a first aid kit in case the Heir got stuck in a situation where there wasn't any Soul Weavers around. Highly unlikely, but Vildred didn't want to take any chances. They bought some water and other bare necessities after that, as this was expected to be a short mission.

"Got everything?" Vildred asked, and the Heir nodded. "Good, it's about time we go back and meet up with the others anyway."

They made their way back to the meeting point. At the square, everyone else was already waiting for them.

"Have any of you seen the Heir's Guardian? He supposedly looks like a fluffy cat," Vildred said. They all looked around at each other and shook their heads at Vildred's question. Vildred sighed. They should've been leaving already to go west, but now they had to go on a fetch quest for the Guardian.

Fortunately they didn't have to actually go around town and search for him, as the Guardian returned to his master himself.

"Master! You got snacks for me?!" The fat cat ran and hopped onto the horse with him. He was smacked away by the Heir who had a glare on his face—the first real sign of emotion Vildred had seen from him all day.

"Don't get comfortable with me, Arky. You ran away first and now you're coming back? I should just eat these snacks all by myself."

"Kyu! No! Didn't you buy them for Arky?!"

"I only bought them because I knew they'd bring you back. I can give them away right now." The Heir's tone left no doubt he was serious.

The Guardian was ready to snap back but Vildred cut in between them before it could devolve into a back and forth. "If you guys are done messing around, then let's hurry and get going. We don't have all day," he said, already leading the way. The rest of the group followed behind, the Heir and his Guardian finally shutting up and following as well.

"Make sure to keep an eye on your Guardian next time," Vildred said to the Heir.

The Heir only gave a sheepish chuckle in response. "Sorry…"

Vildred sighed as he looked back ahead.

They left Levulin not long after, going west as Vildred directed. Because of all the delays, they would be making there sometime after sunset instead of prior, which put a dent in Vildred's plans. He'd been hoping to reach there to set up camp before sundown. It was going to be hard to find a suitable place to settle down in the dark, but he couldn't exactly complain. He'd been through worse before; this was nothing.

Still, it bothered him that it was because of the Heir that they would be arriving later than expected. All day the Heir had just proved a fool of himself, and while Vildred had yet to see his skills in combat—which was probably his only saving grace—his time with him so far had left much to be desired. He could only hope the Heir was as strong as they said, otherwise they might have trouble when facing the Archdemon army.

They were still near Levulin, so they hadn't encountered many monsters along the way, not to mention it was still daytime. Without many monsters to face, it meant they could still make it before sunset if they sped up. The terrain was even leveled so the horses wouldn't face any difficulty traveling faster than usual, but of course it would come at the cost of their stamina. They still had to account for short breaks needed to let the horses rest, too.

The group was quiet along the way, sometimes with the occasional talk, but generally everyone wanted to preserve their energy. The Heir was silent and only talked when someone asked him a question, otherwise he kept to himself. Most of the chatter and noise belonged to his Guardian, who was currently chowing down on the snacks they'd bought earlier. The Heir didn't say anything, but his face showed distaste as all the crumbs were falling to his lap.

Vildred called for a break after a couple of hours once he sighted a pond. They left the trail and headed there, settling down and unpacking a few equipment. The horses were fed and led to drink water at the pond while the rest used this time to get a snack in their stomachs.

All except the Heir, however. He didn't eat, which was a sharp contrast to his Guardian who was still eating all the sweets from earlier. In fact, Vildred hadn't seen him eat all day. The other members had gotten their fill back in Levulin, but Vildred and the Heir had spent that time shopping for supplies.

During that time, they'd only bought snacks for the Guardian, and while Vildred did get a small bite for himself to eat along the way, the Heir had said nothing. Maybe he thought it'd be too presumptuous if he asked Vildred to buy him food, too, when he'd already been making him buy supplies.

Vildred shook that thought off. It could be that he just wasn't hungry. He did only wake up a few days ago, and his body was probably still recovering from being asleep for so long. It was better that he didn't have much of an appetite anyway as it meant they'd be less likely to run out of food.

After eating something small to fill his own stomach, Vildred called to resume their journey. They packed up all their supplies and gathered the horses, starting on the trail again.

As it neared sunset, the sky was ablaze with a mix of orange and red, the last of light washing over the land. When the sun vanished from view, darkness settled in, and it was noticeably colder than before. The group picked up the pace, aiming to at least reach a few miles from the Breezy Plain to settle down for the night. Ahead, the forest was the last obstacle they needed to get through to reach their destination.

They slowed down as they neared the entrance to the forest, the shadows of the trees crawling over the ground. A foreboding air resided here, but Vildred led the group onwards, not losing steam. Entering the forest, they hoped to find a spot to camp, as it'd be safer there than out in the field where their tents were visible for anyone to see.

With the sun gone, they had to be more wary of their surroundings. A lot of the monsters came out at nighttime, and it was easy to get ambushed in the forest where they couldn't see a thing—meanwhile, the creatures here were used to this territory and would be able to see them just fine, especially the nocturnal ones. The trees and leaves helped to mask a lot of sounds too, so they had to be alert on whether or not it was a monster or the wind passing by.

The Soul Weavers helped to provide some light with their magic to lead the way, but Vildred told them to keep it dim. The last thing they wanted was to show off a bright light and attract every monster in the territory here. Having a light following them constantly was going to make it easier for enemies to track their movements, too, so it was best to keep it as small as possible.

The path went straight ahead with only a few twists and turns, marked by a dirt ground instead of a verdant one. On both sides, trees were packed and abundant, thick logs and dense leaves obscuring much of the view. Some branches twisted around overhead, and they looked fragile to a single snap. They avoided those for the most part, not wanting to make their presence even more known than it already was.

There were a few times where they had to increase elevation, which took longer to get through as the horses had difficulty going up, but going back down was less of a challenge. The trail was narrow and they mostly made a single file line or two to get through.

They were deep into the forest when a sound too erratic and loud to be the wind whipped past them. Vildred couldn't pinpoint the direction it'd come from, but everyone had gotten his hand signal to stop and wait. They stood by for a couple minutes to see if the sound would pick up again, but silence was all they were met with. Not even the wind blew.

There was nothing. Not wanting to waste any more time as they still had to find a place to set up camp, Vildred said, "Let's keep going, but be on your guard and keep your ears out for any sounds." He pointed to two soldiers. "You two, take the lead and let us know if you see anything ahead." They nodded and went to the front.

Vildred backed his horse to the Heir's. "You're not a soldier, but you're under my watch now so you have to listen to my orders. Don't go off and do things on your own or else you'll likely die." He doubted the Heir was the type to act on his own accord, but he needed to make sure they were on the same page because miscommunication was a common cause of death on these missions. From what Vildred had gathered during the minimal time they'd spent together, the Heir, while clumsy and forgetful, was at least good at listening and following commands.

"I understand," the Heir responded.

"Good. For now, just stay beside me. We'll let those in front scout for us." This was probably the best formation for now, as he was close to the Heir and could get to him the fastest if they were under attack.

Nodding, the Heir pulled his horse next to Vildred's so they were riding side-by-side. The trail barely fit the two of them, and their horses were almost right up against each other.

They continued on the trail, silent as tension wafted through the group. The only sound made was the steps of the horses, and even that was quiet because of how slow they were going. Vildred was aware that if they wanted to settle down and camp somewhere, it would have to be further up ahead in case they were being followed.

As they traveled on the path, Vildred realized that there was no way in hell that sound back there was the wind, as a strong breeze blew by and all it did was rustle some leaves. Nothing like what they'd heard back there.

He was inclined to stay quiet about it, however, mostly because he didn't want to bring more unnecessary tension to the atmosphere. He'd already made the call to be on guard, so everyone should be prepared in case something did happen. The only one he was concerned about was the Heir, as he'd proven himself to be less than perceptive, but Vildred could sense that even he was alert. His entire body language was tense and ready, and for a moment Vildred thought he was seeing someone else from the way his whole demeanor changed. Either that or it was the dark playing tricks on Vildred's eyes.

Vildred mentally shook his head, drawing himself back to the current situation. There would be time for the Heir to show what he was really capable of later on. He had more important things to worry about right now. If they went on for a while and nothing came at them, then they were probably safe. But if something did attack them—which Vildred was betting on—then at least they were prepared, and they could take it down and settle at ease for the night.

The monster had been good at tailing them, but it slipped up and made a sound when they came upon a crossroad and headed left. What Vildred hadn’t expected, however, was it to actually be a group of monsters. He’d assumed only one had been following them because of the way it was so quiet in its tracks, and he realized now that was a foolish assumption. The monsters here had lived in this forest all their lives; naturally, they knew how to remain silent when tracking prey in a territory they knew all too well.

Vildred took a moment to assess the situation, comparing their numbers. He’d brought along six soldiers and two Soul Weavers for this mission. There were about fourteen enemies: four Silva and ten Dragona. Calling orders, he directed everyone into position, taking into account the enemies’ positioning as well.

"Prioritize the Silva first; they can heal their allies. Stay out of range of the Dragona and don't get caught by their toxic breaths," Vildred said, keeping close to the Heir.

The Heir exhaled and brought his horse forward, but Vildred put a hand out in front of him. "Stay back. Don't interfere."

The Heir looked surprised. He tugged the reins to stop his horse. "But…"

"Just let us do the work. You have to preserve your energy in case the Archdemon army ambushes us. We're supposed to risk our lives to protect you on this mission anyway."

A frown lingered on the Heir's face but he didn't go against Vildred's words. Listening to the order, he remained at the rear with Vildred while Vildred pulled his sword out, ready to defend in case one of the monsters slipped past the other members and aimed for them. His sword had a considerable reach and would be able to kill whatever came at them before it even had a chance to strike.

While Vildred watched the ongoing battle, he called out the occasional warnings and shouted where the next attack was coming from. The Silva were generally slow and immobile, making them easy targets to pick off. Still, they would only be a nuisance if left alive. While they weren't an offensive threat, they could certainly be annoying with their ability to heal, and they blended well enough with the trees in the environment that they could catch them off guard with surprise root attacks.

The soldiers cut down the Silva with haste, leaving the group of Dragona alive to be dealt with next. The Soul Weavers were helping to cast magic that would keep everyone immune to the poison, or at least cleanse it if someone got a whiff of it. The poison didn't seem particularly powerful though, as these were low level monsters likely just looking for prey and were unfortunate enough to stumble upon Vildred's group.

The Dragona were much quicker and more slick than the Silva, but the soldiers Vildred had brought along were experienced fighters, and the monsters were killed in one or two strikes. When the final enemy collapsed, Vildred rode his horse forward, nodding at the Heir to follow him. After a moment of examining their carcasses, Vildred called for everyone to be at ease and sheathe their weapons, and to return to their horses.

The smell of dead monsters would no doubt lure other beasts here in hopes of scavenging the remains, so Vildred decided it was best to get away from this spot as fast as possible. With the crossroad, they wouldn't be tailed so easily, but monsters always had a keen sense of smell and would probably be able to track them by the scent of blood. They had to find a place to settle down fast and ward off the smell.

Resuming their journey on the trail, it was more than an hour before Vildred finally made the call to camp for the night. He'd found a decent spot in the woods with enough space to fit their tents, and they'd been riding long enough that he was sure this time they weren't being shadowed. It was late into the night and he'd heard a few of the members talking about their hunger, so he decided it was time to settle down and cook dinner.

Keeping marks along the way to ensure they would be able to find their way back to the trail tomorrow, the group settled in the enclosed area. The trees provided a natural covering to keep them out of sight, but that also meant it was easy for them to be ambushed as they wouldn't be able to see where their enemies where coming from. Everyone dismounted their horses and tied them to a tree.

The first thing the group set about doing was starting a fire. When the fire was large enough, they brought out the cooking equipment and the ingredients they'd packed, and began making dinner. Two of the members were on cooking duty today, and they would be rotating on a shift each day so everyone at least contributed once.

While the two were cooking, everyone else sat around the fire, hoping to get any semblance of warmth given how cold it was. The lush scent of the trees was pushed out by the rising smoke from the fire, replacing the frosty air with an ashen breath. The smell would help to deter wildlife from this spot. While the fire crackled, everyone worked on cleaning their weapons, getting rid of all the blood from earlier.

Since Vildred hadn't landed any kills with his sword, he didn't need to clean it. He would probably sharpen it later when he had time alone though, to destress from the events of today. He rarely did escort missions, but he remembered why he disliked them so much. It was a pain having to keep watch on someone and always making sure they were in sight. Thankfully the Heir didn't seem to be the type to go off on his own, and he'd stayed relatively close to Vildred the whole time, making this job easy. He wanted to keep it that way for the rest of this mission.

Speaking of which, Vildred looked around for the Heir, barely noticing him as he was off on the side away from the fire. The light source was dim since they hadn't wanted to attract attention, and the Heir had been hidden in the shadows. Vildred only caught sight of him by his white clothes. He was just sitting there talking with his Guardian, too far for Vildred to hear, but he didn't want to be eavesdropping on their conversation anyway.

The meals were made and distributed not long after, everyone given a steaming bowl of soup. It did wonders in soothing their fatigue and heating up their bodies. The portion was large and filling and helped to recover some energy after a long day of traveling. When everyone was finished the bowls were cleaned and packed away.

Everyone set up their tents afterward, heading to sleep for the night. It'd been a tiring day, and they'd set up camp much later than expected. It was best to rest as much as they could in preparation for tomorrow when they would finally reach their destination.

Vildred was the only one staying up since someone had to stay awake for night watch. He was supposed to have a partner to switch with midway into the night but since everyone else was evidently exhausted, he resolved to stay up through the night alone.

Except he wasn't alone.

The Heir was not far off, standing awkwardly at the side of Vildred's tent. He looked like he was deciding whether or not to come over to Vildred, who was sitting at the front and preparing to clean his sword.

After a few minutes of ignoring him, Vildred couldn't take it any longer. The Heir's stare had been burning into the side of his head, and there was no way he was going to be able to focus on his sword cleaning when his every move was being watched.

"Shouldn't it be your bedtime now?" Vildred smirked, eyeing the Heir from the side. "What are you doing up so late?"

The Heir ignored his taunt, which irked Vildred a little, but he did take this as an invitation to come closer.

"…May I?" the Heir asked to being able to sit next to Vildred. Vildred just nodded, not sure why he was suddenly being so formal. As the Heir sat down, he kept a few feet away from Vildred, either because he was wary of the length of Vildred's sword or he was aware of how tense the air between them was.

"Vildred." The Heir paused as if to a double-take at himself, then asked, "I can call you that, right?"

"I don't know." Setting the bottle of oil down, he asked, "Can I call you Ras?" What would the Heir think to a question like that, going on a first name basis with a Human?

The Heir didn't linger much on the question. There was no hesitation, not even a breath. "Sure." The Heir—Ras smiled. Then, before Vildred could process what just happened, he continued, "What are you doing?"

"…I'm cleaning my sword," Vildred said, as if the action wasn't obvious enough. Ras didn't seem to notice the disbelief in his tone. He just blinked curiously at the sword in Vildred's hand.

"You have to re-oil swords or else they'll dull because of rust, right?" Ras asked. It was the first time Vildred heard his voice with such confidence since they'd met.

That surprised Vildred for a moment, and he paused in his sword cleaning. "Right." But then he realized Ras was also a swordsman just like him, so of course it made sense he knew how to maintain a sword.

This was supposed to be a quiet task, usually one when he was in a self-reflective mood, but now he had the Heir of the Covenant trying to strike up a conversation with him, and it was putting Vildred's focus off balance. He didn't know what Ras was trying to get out of this.

"You should head to sleep." Vildred took up the cloth and began wiping his blade. "We'll be heading into enemy territory tomorrow." He was saying this out of concern for Ras’s stamina the next coming days, but also because he'd had enough of Ras staring at him. It was unnerving.

Ras waited a moment before saying, "I don't have a tent where I can sleep in."

Vildred sighed. Right. Ras had forgotten to pack tent supplies, a sleeping bag, and everything else that was necessary for camping—because he was just stupid like that. "Then you can sleep in mine for tonight. I'll be staying up so the sleeping bag's all yours."

Ras made no effort to do what Vildred told him to do. "Why are you staying up?"

"We need someone to watch and guard the site, obviously." Was he really that dense? "Everyone else is asleep so there's no one I can switch with in the middle of the night."

Ras paused. After a breath, he said, "I could switch with you. I don't need to sleep long to recover my energy, and I know you need to rest a lot more than me."

He knew? Throughout their whole exchange, he'd been speaking to Vildred with a tone of familiarity, which bothered Vildred. Not even his most trusted soldiers spoke to him in the way Ras did. What irritated him the most was Ras's complete lack of understanding of the social distance between them.

Vildred's patience had been worn thin enough. He just wanted to clean his sword so he could destress from Ras messing up their whole schedule today, but he couldn't even do that without the person himself nagging him with these incessant questions and cheap talks at conversation. And now he was telling Vildred to sleep and leave his back exposed to him, as if Vildred would trust him enough to watch over everyone? What the fuck?

Sheathing his sword, he curled his fingers around the hilt, barely restraining his anger. Breathing in and out, he eyed him with a glare. "Let's get one thing straight, Ras: I don't trust you. The only reason I'm even putting up with you now is because we're on the same side on this mission. In a real battle, I wouldn't leave my back open to you."

Vildred hadn’t realized the effect of his words until he saw Ras’s expression, but it was too late to take them back. If there was one emotion that flashed across Ras's face in that moment, it was hurt.

Ras stared at him wide-eyed. Then he pulled his features into a closed expression a few seconds later. "…I wouldn't expect you to," he replied, quiet. "If that's your mindset about this mission, then fine. I can't force you to change your outlook on me." His hands curled into fists. "But I'm here because of the Archdemon army, and…" he looked away, "it doesn't matter to me whether or not you trust me."

Vildred was momentarily taken aback by Ras's reaction, as if he was challenging Vildred's rank. Ras hadn't exhibited this at all before.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," Ras said, standing up and dusting the dirt off his clothes before picking up his sword, and Vildred noted the way his hand was shaking on the hilt. He gave Vildred a passing smile before walking to leave the area, and his Guardian followed.

"Wait," Vildred called, a bit too quick. He had to take a second to process what he was going to say next. Fortunately, he did have a good reason for stopping him. "Where do you think you're going? Don't forget you're under my watch."

"Just a walk. I'll be sure to leave tracks."

"If you wander off and get hurt, it'll be on me. Everyone else is asleep right now so there's no one to accompany you, and I'm not leaving this area and risking everyone else getting hurt."

Ras was silent, but eventually he turned back and sat in the same spot as before.

Vildred couldn't read his expression as he tried to get a peek on his face, the light from the fire too weak. Ras avoided his gaze, his entire body language closed off, and even his Guardian sensed the mood and was staying quiet.

Silence was all there was for the next two hours. Vildred had let the fire diminish and eventually put it out so monsters wouldn't be attracted to the light and smell.

Then he heard a sound where Ras was, and it sounded like something big was there, almost startling Vildred into whipping his sword out. He relaxed when a flash of light showed the Guardian had changed into a different form—the battle one, he presumed. Were they going out to fight somewhere? He heard them moving around but they didn't leave.

It was dark so he couldn't see all that well, but streaks of moonlight filtered in through the hazy branches of leaves, the spots of soft glows providing Vildred's eyes with something to see. Ras wasn't sitting up anymore, but instead lying curled up in his Guardian's fur, facing away from Vildred.

Vildred took a moment to observe the Guardian, making out the resemblance between the two distinct forms. In this one he looked a lot less like a cat and more like a canine, just like how the paintings depicted. The Guardian had his tail covering Ras, acting as a blanket while Ras lay against him like a pillow.

With the fire gone, the only sound was the ambient humming of wildlife and leaves shaking in the wind. Vildred pulled his eyes away from Ras. He didn't know why Ras didn't take up his offer to sleep in the tent. It wasn't like Vildred was going to be sleeping in it tonight, and it'd be warmer to sleep indoors than outdoors, even with his Guardian helping to preserve heat.

He sat there for the next hour wondering what Ras's intentions were. Was he that upset about Vildred's words? Though, he did tell him off pretty badly that Ras would probably feel awkward sleeping in Vildred's tent. He might've been too harsh there but… Ras shouldn’t take it personally anyway. They barely knew each other, so did he really expect Vildred to trust him that easily when it'd only been less than a day since they met? Besides, if his mission was supposed to be to protect Ras, then it would be counterintuitive to sleep and let Ras take up the night watch.

Vildred tried to shrug those thoughts off, going back to watching the surroundings, though it was without much success. Thankfully, it was quiet enough in the forest that he could sit and not have any noise mess up his already disordered mind. On the contrary, the night air was chilly and it continued to draw him out of focus, sending shivers across his skin every time the wind blew, so he went inside the tent real quick to unpack the blanket in his bag.

Stepping back out with the blanket, he unfolded it and draped it around himself before noticing Ras on the side. Vildred couldn't see well from here, but he could make out the steady rise and fall of his body. Going closer, careful not to step on anything that might make a sound, he saw the Guardian asleep as well, curled up around Ras. While his tail was big, it didn't cover Ras fully, leaving his body exposed to the wind. Ras was asleep though, so clearly he must've been used to sleeping like this a lot, or he was more tired than he'd let on earlier.

Vildred sighed. Ras had to be difficult even in his sleep. Vildred would've dragged him into the tent if it weren't for his Guardian being around him, and Vildred didn't want to risk waking them both up. If they weren't prepared for the battles tomorrow then the entire group would be screwed, since Vildred hadn't brought a lot of soldiers, both because it would restrict their mobility and because the purpose of this mission was for Ras to take out the Archdemon army.

As Vildred came closer, he almost stepped on Ras's sword. He stopped himself just in time thanks to a shine of moonlight on the hilt. Silencing an inhale, Vildred was more startled finding the sword on the ground rather than nearly stepping on it. He directed his eyes to Ras's back, probably burning a hole into him with how hard his gaze was.

He didn't even keep his sword by his side during his sleep… did Ras really not care or think about what Vildred might do to him? Not that Vildred would actually do something to him unless he wanted to get executed by Ezera, but there was a level of caution even Ras should know to act with, given that he was the Heir. How could he leave himself so open and vulnerable like this? Was it sheer stupidity or did he think he could defend himself even in his sleep? Such carelessness would've irked Vildred, but he was already so used to Ras's peculiarity that it barely fazed him anymore.

Setting his thoughts on the sword aside, he stood next to Ras's sleeping form, looking over him. With the shade of moonlight it made his face look softer, and he was sleeping soundly, a strand of hair caught in his mouth. Vildred spent a few seconds looking at his face. He already figured Ras looked quite young, but seeing his face during his sleep, he didn't look like someone who'd fought against Archdemons before and lived through several wars. In fact, he looked around Vildred's age.

Vildred knelt down, careful not to hit the ground with his knees too hard, and pulled the blanket off himself, draping it over Ras instead.

The slight act caused Ras to jerk in response, surprising Vildred, and he almost fell back but managed to keep his balance on his feet. With this body tense and ready to snap, he held his breath and looked over Ras, who was still asleep, but that twitch had definitely been a reaction to a stimulus. Maybe Ras wasn't sleeping so soundly as he thought even though his face portrayed otherwise. He was probably one of those light sleepers who awoke to sound or touch easily.

Continuing from before, Vildred kept a steady breath as he laid the blanket gently over him, doing his best not to touch Ras. When the blanket was fully over him, he withdrew his hands, staying still and waiting to see if that had woken Ras. When nothing happened, he stood up and backed away.

He knew all this wasn't necessary considering the Guardian's fur seemed thick enough to keep Ras warm, but Vildred didn't know what overcame him. He was feeling a bit of guilt over what happened earlier, and if he'd handled the situation better, Ras probably wouldn't have decided to sleep out in the cold. Even if he wasn't on good terms with Ras, that didn't mean he couldn't be concerned about his state, especially when this entire mission banked on Ras's well-being. If he woke up sick and tired the next day, it would only be Vildred's fault.

Vildred went back into his tent and grabbed another blanket from his bag. It was good he packed two; usually it was to be prepared for extremely cold nights but in this case it worked out well. Wrapping the blanket around himself he resumed his night watch, pulling the sleeves of his coat down.

Nothing really happened but Vildred had to stay on the lookout regardless, keeping his ears open to any strange sounds. There was an unsettling creepiness to being alone, seeing nothing but shadows of trees and having to rely on his hearing to detect movements since his eyes weren't reliable in the night. He forgot he wasn't alone though, since Ras and his Guardian was sleeping a few feet away from him.

Vildred could think of a couple reasons as to why sleeping outside was a bad idea—one being that they were out in the open in plain sight to enemies, but instead of finding it vexing, Vildred found it comforting. It helped to make the tension less heavy, even if he had to be extra alert.

While heaviness did linger over his eyes, he managed to stay awake, used to staying up a lot on missions. If he was pulling an all-nighter now, that just meant he was going to be dead asleep the next night. The cold helped to keep him awake; he couldn't fall asleep with the wind blowing into him and for a moment he silently envied Ras who looked remarkably warm and comfortable in his Guardian's fur, with Vildred's blanket to top it all off no less.

When dawn came, the sky lifted from a heavy black to a pale blue, bringing light to the forest again. To his surprise, Ras was the first to wake. As sunlight shone overhead, Ras rolled around for a bit before finally sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Vildred kept quiet, chin on his hand, eyes watching him in his peripheral view.

It took Ras a couple seconds to register the blanket on him, and he looked around himself, the blanket falling off his shoulders in his movement. Then he turned his head in Vildred's direction.

"Thanks," was what Ras said.

"…I didn't do anything." Which was a lie, because it was clear the blanket he was wearing and the one Ras had were the same.

They kept a distance away from each other, remaining silent as the sun continued to go up. Eventually the others woke up as well, and after a quick breakfast they were off on their way, horses continuing on the trail from before. Ras had returned the blanket to him by then, merely offering it to Vildred with no words accompanying the gesture. Vildred took it and packed it away.

Vildred was tired but the rising sun helped to keep his body awake, not quite able to fall asleep when light was shining over the forest and he was sitting on top of a horse. As he led the group he looked around for any signs of monsters, but there were only a few. Most of them had scurried off at the sight of light, and it was still early in the morning that many were asleep. After one break in between to care for the horses and let them rest, and a few run-ins with some weak monsters, they were out of the worst parts of the forest.

Here it was less dense, and without as many trees to act as covers, along with the sunlight slipping through in between, the surroundings were easier to see. The sky had become stronger in color, sporting a clear blue. They'd been riding on the trail for a while now, coming across a lake and stopping there to recuperate, then they were on their way again.

The end of the forest was designated by the clearing of trees into a small opening. Across from them the path continued to a mountainous valley, filled with lush trees and flower fields, the sky brimming in full view against the verdant landscape. A river coursed through the valley, flowing with curved turns, its length extending beyond their field of vision. On the sides, the mountains sloped down around the river. It was much more spacious than the forest they'd been in, the scent of fresh flowers and crisp air already wafting through.

Vildred made a signal to stop. "We're here. This is the Bellflower Valley," he announced. "We'll be passing through enemy territory now so don't let your guard down." With that, he continued onwards into the valley, the rest of the group following behind after the suitable warning.

The land here still seemed to be flourishing as evident by the bellflowers on the fields—probably how the name of this valley was coined—so that must've meant the Archdemon army hadn't breached this area yet. They must've been farther into the Breezy Plain.

Vildred didn't let himself become lax at that, because again, it was another assumption—and the last time he'd assumed things, shit had caught him off guard. He was resolved not to make the same mistake, especially when the stakes were higher this time. Word had likely already spread far and wide about Ras's awakening; there was no doubt the Archdemon army had caught wind of it and was mobilizing their forces.

They passed through the valley, following the trail as directed by the map, having a brief lunch break on the way. Once they reached the end of the valley, the landscape returned to a leveled field, and they entered a woodland. Now that the field wasn't as open and spacious as before, the atmosphere thickened with tension, everyone with their weapons ready.

The sun was still high in the sky, casting light over the woods. The canopy here wasn't as dense as the one in the forest they'd been in yesterday, so light shone in more easily. Aside from a couple monsters getting in their way, the woods were a breeze to get through. At the end of the woodland they would apparently reach a site of ruins according to the map.

The trees gradually disappeared, opening up to a vast field of grassland. The trail was still there, but in the distance there were visible remains of ancient structures, some pillars still standing slanted while others were collapsed and broken on the ground.

"These are the Revenant Ruins," Vildred said. "We'll look for a spot to camp as we pass through."

Hearing no objection to that, Vildred rode his horse forward after a couple of seconds. The ruins held what seemed to be temples, long lost and eroded. There were cracks on the pillars, leaves and moss growing on the stone. The structures were deformed and had clearly been weathered down over time, leaving jagged edges.

They passed by a large structure, seeing the remnants of it up close. From what was left of it, the architectural shape had been broken, barely left standing. It looked to have been a temple, as designated by the Goddess statue at the altar, the steps still upholding it—either by some stroke of luck or a special force. Nature had overgrown the area, grass covering the ground and vines ensnaring the structure. Chunks of rocks lay on the side, cracked with rough contours.

As they rode on, Vildred looked up. The sky was cloudy, not a beam of sunlight peeking through. It resembled a shade before imminent rainfall, murky and gray. He could almost feel the rumbles in the dark clouds. They probably had to set up camp early today, preferably before sunset.

As he looked back ahead, a volley of arrows cut before him. Vildred pulled his horse back just in time from being shot down.

An ambush?!

"Everyone, draw your weapons!" Vildred said. He tried to calm his horse but it'd gotten too frightened by the arrows. At this rate it was going to be scared off, so he dismounted it and drew his blade, ready to attack the incoming ground forces.

Everyone followed his command and dismounted their horses, blades drawn. The wave of Undead came, surrounding them from all sides, and the fight began.

He dashed forward and slashed the first enemy he saw, taking down two more on the sides afterwards. Looking around, he gauged the enemy count. There couldn't have been more than fifty enemies, excluding the archers, but they were all strong and empowered by dark magic. The archers' location was still unknown, so Vildred couldn't find how far they were and their range, but if the group was bunched up together like this it'd only make it easier for the archers to fire on them.

There was barely a pause between each attack he executed, slashing the Undead into pieces, their disjointed bones rattling on the ground. Vildred figured he needed to cut more than a few limbs off, otherwise they were just going to keep attacking like it was nothing. That was the thing with these damn things; they had no sense of pain or fear, nothing to inhibit their will to fight, only acting like zombies.

He was in constant motion, weaving in between them as he swung his sword at high speed. While they might've had good stamina, their reflexes were clearly lacking because he still managed to cut through their defenses before they could even block or parry. It seemed like even the Undead weren't a problem as long as he dealt with them quickly enough.

The only real problem was the archers. They'd been firing shots—luckily none of them hitting—and Vildred was getting a good idea of the general direction they were coming from. He maintained his footwork and kept moving, not wanting to be an easy target.

As he was dealing with the enemies, he caught glimpses of Ras fighting. While not as quick, the force and technique of his swings were there, demonstrating his experience. Vildred was almost distracted—breathless, even, at the skill used to take out the enemies, the blue shine of his sword waving around like an afterimage. All he could see were flashes of light where the sword clashed. For a moment he could see that this was the Heir of the Covenant that everyone hailed.

He must've been distracted because a weapon aimed at the back of his neck wasn't registered until it was almost too late. Vildred raised his sword to parry, but Ras's sword was faster, deflecting the enemy's blade. Ras then severed its arm with a swipe straight down. The bone fell to the ground and he crushed it with his foot, unveiled intent to kill in his eyes as he thrust forward. With three strikes the enemy lay on the ground, dissected in pieces.

Vildred caught his breath as he eyed Ras, wondering where that sudden burst of bloodlust came from. It was almost uncanny seeing him like this; to think Ras could be so ruthless and detached when killing. He didn't think Ras had it in him, much less the arm strength necessary to dish out the blows he was currently dealing with such strong force.

Vildred saved his thanks as his eyes locked on the next opponent, using his blade to strike it from the side. Ras remained close by, and they killed the Undead soldiers surrounding them. He didn't feel comfortable fighting so close with Ras considering they didn't know each other's abilities or battle styles, but this wasn't the time to complain. As long as Ras didn't get in his way, then that was fine.

To Vildred's surprise, Ras seemed to have a pretty good idea of what he was doing, not just in terms of battle but for accounting Vildred's attacks as well. Vildred didn't think it'd take that fast for Ras to get used to the reach of his sword, but no matter. That meant he didn't have to worry about accidentally cutting Ras or even lopping a strand of hair off him.

As the enemies closed in on them, likely prioritizing Ras as their target, Vildred and Ras shifted closer to each other.

"You're not half bad," he said in a breath to Ras as they switched sides.

"Still not as good as you," Ras muttered before charging into another attack, and Vildred would've been inclined to believe Ras was provoking him with that statement, but there was a strange sincerity to his voice that he could hear. He held back a scoff as he swung his sword, taking out multiple at once, and it was like he and Ras were moving separately, fighting on different instincts, but their blades never clashed; not even a graze.

An arrow went off. Vildred sidestepped as he blocked a blow from his right, the shot skimming past his shoulder. That was close—too close. He shoved the enemy back and followed with a stab, aware that his reflexes weren't as fast as usual. He was getting slower; could feel it in his shoulders, the drag of his swings starting to settle in. That all-nighter he'd pulled was finally catching up to him, and Vildred was determined to finish this as soon as possible.

With the field clearing out of the Undead infantry, the archers switched their approach. They shifted from aimed shots to firing volleys, raining blows over them. Vildred barely evaded them, calculating his positioning as he located the archers on top of a hill not far away.

The archers had the high ground advantage, and Vildred's group didn't have any long range attackers except for the Soul Weavers. He called for the Soul Weavers to prepare a magic spell to at least immobilize them or block their field of vision. They had to finish the infantry off first, then deal with the archers by buying time for the Soul Weavers to launch their attacks.

His movements were slowing down even more as he fended off a weapon that was dangerously close to his face. What caught him off guard next was a volley of arrows coming into his blind spot, and Vildred didn't have enough time to spin around and deflect them with his sword.

"Vildred!" Ras pushed him out of the way of the incoming attack, shielding him from the arrows. They pierced his back and he swung an arc of light in the general direction of the archers, falling forward as he did so. An explosion of smoke burst from the hill, clouding the archers. Ras's Guardian transformed with a roar and followed up on the attack, flying to the hill to deal with the remaining enemies.

"Ras!" Vildred caught him, keeping him steady.

Ras grabbed his shoulder, hand fumbling to keep his grip. He raised his head, shaking as he asked, "Are you alright…?"

"Idiot…" Vildred stared at his face, looking into hazy eyes. "Why would you protect me like that?" This whole act was unthinkable to him.

Ras gave a soft smile. "I'll be fine… I'm more worried about you." He lowered his head, breath heavy and throat hoarse.

He wanted to say he wasn't anyone he should worry about. The whole mission was to protect Ras and keep him safe for fuck's sake! What the hell was he doing, risking his life for Vildred like that?!

Vildred was ready to snap at him once more before he realized a blade was being aimed into Ras's side. He pulled Ras away from it, holding him in one arm while retaliating with his sword in the other, decimating the Undead soldier into pieces.

That was the last enemy. Vildred dropped his sword and held Ras's waist. Lowering Ras to help him sit on the ground, Vildred assessed the severity of his injuries. Four arrows lodged into his back, and blood was spreading by the second, staining his white coat. Vildred couldn't pull the arrows out without a Soul Weaver to help stop the bleeding.

"Why did you protect me?" he asked again, hoping to keep Ras conscious until the Soul Weavers arrived.

Ras's head dipped, his entire body going limp with ragged breaths. He gripped Vildred's shoulder harder, forming tight creases into his coat. "Because… don't want… to see you get hurt…" His eyes lost focus and he fell against Vildred.

"Hey, Ras? Stay awake… stay with me. Hey!" He patted his shoulder but got no response, his other hand warm with blood.

Blood seeped out of Ras's back at a fast pace, and Vildred looked over the wounds. These weren't ordinary arrows… he was bleeding way too much considering the depth of the puncture.

Picking up one of the fallen arrows on the ground, Vildred observed the tip, eyes widening. The arrowhead was coated in a deadly poison. It wasn't unreasonable for the Archdemon army to have access to this toxin considering Nilgal was on their side. If Vildred pulled the arrows out now, it would no doubt widen the wound and accelerate the poison.

"Damn it!" He tossed the arrow aside and shouted for help. "Medics! Come here!"

The Soul Weavers were busy tending to the other soldiers' wounds. With the area cleared of enemies—a few archers might've gotten away but Vildred didn't care—the Soul Weavers rushed over and knelt down beside Ras, immediately working to get the arrows out.

Ras was still conscious, just barely, and he voiced his pain as the arrows were carefully pulled out, one by one. He didn't scream, keeping his teeth clenched, but he clung onto Vildred's shoulder, almost tearing the fabric with how hard he was digging his fingers in.

The Soul Weavers held him still along with Vildred. When the last arrow was pulled out the Soul Weavers cast their magic over the wounds.

"He's poisoned," Vildred informed, ignoring the pain on his shoulder from Ras's white-knuckled grip—definitely a bruise later. Vildred could see he was trying his best not to shake.

The wounds were nasty, the poison already taking effect as blood gushed out. The healers slowly cleansed the poison from his body, then cleaned and disinfected the wounds. Ras's breathing evened out by the time they wrapped bandages over his back, but he kept a hold on Vildred's shoulder. One Soul Weaver stayed to look over Ras while the other resumed tending to the rest of the group's injuries.

It was an hour or so of the Soul Weaver keeping up Ras's treatment. Vildred kept an arm around him, mostly because Ras would probably fall to the side if he wasn't there to hold him up. As they waited, the Soul Weaver examined the poison on the tip of the arrow.

Ras's complexion was pale, but he looked to be recovering, taking steady breaths. Vildred's gaze was fixed on his face, a single thought running rampant in his mind. It still made no sense why Ras risked his life for him, or even regarded Vildred's life as more important than his own. It just didn't make sense… unless Ras was one of those types of people who thought he could save everyone. Was that it, then? Had he only saved Vildred because of that naive belief?

With the field remaining of the Undead's corpses, it was better to look elsewhere for a place to camp. After everyone was confirmed to be in a nonfatal condition, Vildred helped Ras up.

He separated from Ras after helping him get to his feet, but Ras stumbled and grabbed onto him. Vildred caught him just in time so they didn't both fall.

"What's wrong?" Vildred asked. Usually he would be annoyed at someone clinging onto him, especially if that someone had proved to exhibit a naturally clumsy behavior, but right now he wasn't annoyed at all.

"I can't… move," Ras said, struggling, and Vildred could see he was really trying to get off of him.

"The poison's gone from your system, but you'll likely be paralyzed for the next few hours from the aftereffects," the Soul Weaver explained to Ras.

Vildred kept his mouth closed. Turning around, he leaned forward and knelt down so Ras would fall onto his back. Then he hoisted Ras up, hooking his hands under Ras's legs. Ras voiced a sound of surprise as he let his arms hang around Vildred's neck.

"Don't let go," was all Vildred gave as a warning before he started walking. Ras didn't respond but he did relax against Vildred's back, tension loosening a bit, still somewhat wary.

Ras wasn't particularly heavy, but it still required some effort on Vildred's end regardless. He took steady steps to where the horses were located.

All the horses were gathered after a while, and everyone mounted them. For Vildred and Ras it required a bit more work and some careful maneuvering, but they eventually made it onto Vildred's horse, Ras sitting behind him.

Vildred moved Ras's arms to wrap around his waist instead, making sure the hold was tight. When it felt like Ras was secure enough that he wouldn't fall off the side of the horse, Vildred led his horse forward on the trail.

The ride was slow, deliberately slow. It was to help Ras keep his balance so he wouldn't lean to one side.

Ras had his chest pressed against Vildred, his body's warmth pooling over onto his back, and Vildred ignored the feeling as he continued leading the group, checking the sky to see how long they had until it would start raining. The sky was darker than before, but it wasn't evening yet. They still had time.

They backtracked and settled closer to the beginning of the ruins where they were earlier, where there was still quite a few trees to cover them from view. If there were more underlings of the Archdemon army remaining, it was better to camp in an area they'd already passed by and investigated.

When they found a suitable place to camp, everyone dismounted the horses. Again, Vildred had to be mindful of Ras against his back, but he managed to get off his horse while still carrying him.

The others began tying the horses and unpacking their loads, settling in a comfortable spot. Vildred set Ras down a few feet away from everyone else, lowering him gently onto the grass.

"Do you want to stay in a tent?" Vildred asked. "I'll go set it up. If not, I'll set it up later."

Ras shook his head. "I'll be fine out here."

Vildred nodded and stood up to leave. He felt a tug at his coattail, then turned back to look at Ras. Ras was giving him an inquisitive gaze.

"Thanks."

"…It's no problem. I was just doing my job," Vildred replied. Ras let go of his coattail and Vildred continued walking after that.

Dinner was being prepared. A fire had already been set up and they were cooking stew tonight. It would take a while for the broth to simmer, so everyone was cleaning and polishing their weapons in the meantime.

Vildred sat with the others, sharpening his sword as well and listening to the stories being told around the fire. He occasionally glanced at Ras, who was talking with his Guardian.

Vildred didn't mean to eavesdrop, but by that point Ras's voice had gotten too loud to ignore. He heard something along the lines of: If you weren't lazy and had helped us fight from the start, I wouldn't have ended up in this state, followed by Ras bashing his Guardian on the head and the Guardian's squeaky cries for help. Vildred and everyone else around the fire looked at each other before lowering their heads and going back to cleaning their weapons.

The commotion soon passed. When the stew finished cooking, bowls were passed around and everyone began digging in. Vildred took two bowls, then stood up and walked over to Ras. The Guardian had scurried to where everyone else was sitting the moment food had been distributed, so Ras was alone.

"Here." He handed the slime stew to Ras. If he had to watch over Ras on this mission to make sure he didn't die, then he should probably make sure he didn't starve to death either.

Ras stared blankly at him, but eventually accepted the bowl. He got uncomfortably tense when Vildred sat next to him instead of leaving to eat with the others.

Vildred didn't say anything as he continued eating his stew, acting like he hadn't sat down with Ras in the first place. He ate while Ras stared at the stew, stirring it with his spoon. While Vildred was nearly finished, Ras hadn't even started his portion, and Vildred wondered if his presence was what was stopping Ras from eating.

Vildred set his spoon down. "Not hungry?"

Ras shook his head, pausing in his stirring. "Not really, no."

"Do you ever get hungry?" He hadn't seen Ras eat all day yesterday and today.

Ras shrugged. "Sometimes."

Vildred almost had to stop himself from chuckling, finding amusement in that strange answer. Nobody would ever say they only got hungry "sometimes"—unless they probably weren't Human, in which case, Ras wasn't.

"Eat. It'll help you recover your energy faster."

Ras's stare lingered on it as he hesitated. He poked the slime parts of the stew with the spoon, as if they were still alive and might jump out at him. "…Should I? Is this edible?"

"You've already seen everyone else eat it, haven't you? It's not that bad. Just try it." Vildred smirked. "Or what, is the Heir of the Covenant scared of some cooked slime?"

That seemed to rile Ras up into eating it. He didn't reply to Vildred's challenge, but he stuck a spoonful of slime stew into his mouth. Vildred watched as Ras's expression scrunched up into the expectation of something bad, but then softened as he chewed and swallowed.

"Well?" Vildred asked, shifting to sit with one knee up.

Ras slipped the spoon out of his mouth. "It's not bad…" He looked surprised at his own words, glancing at the stew. "It did taste a little weird at first, but then it mellowed out."

"That's what happens when you cook it with other ingredients. You aren't supposed to eat it by itself." It really did sound like Ras thought slimes were supposed to be eaten as a main dish with nothing on the side or anything to enhance the flavor. "This stuff is better fresh by the way."

"Really? I'll have to try it sometime." Ras smiled as he took another spoonful, and Vildred could see that it was a sincere one. He really was interested.

"If we come across any slimes on the way, you'll be able to," Vildred said. Ras nodded, and that was the end of the conversation.

Vildred waited with his empty bowl in hand while Ras ate the stew. Ras had started eating faster when he realized Vildred was waiting for him, but Vildred just told him to take it slow and that they weren't washing bowls until later since people were getting seconds. That slowed Ras down, but not his Guardian who was getting seconds and thirds in the background.

When Ras was done, Vildred took his bowl for him and he asked Ras if he wanted seconds. Ras shook his head, and Vildred went back to the others to put the bowls in the pile of already finished ones. After dinner was over and the dishes were cleaned, the tents were set up and everyone returned to their own to rest.

Night had fallen over. Vildred was busy setting the last parts of his tent up when he glanced over to Ras on the side. He'd set the tent close to where Ras was sitting since he figured they were going to be sharing it, and Ras wouldn't be able to sleep outside like he did last night when it was going to rain tonight.

Exhaling a sigh after he finished that task, he went over to Ras, about to tell him he could go inside the tent now, but then remembered about his paralysis.

Vildred approached him. "Are your injuries okay now?"

Ras gave a small nod and a smile. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for the concern." He didn't make any effort to move though, so it was obvious he was still suffering under the effects of the paralysis. All Vildred could think was that he was lucky to have not gotten a direct hit on the spine, given that four arrows had landed. The paralysis seemed to be targeted on the lower half of the body.

Moving closer, Vildred could see the soaked blood on the bandages. "We should change your bandages," he said, and by that it obviously meant Vildred would have to help him. Ras made no objection to that suggestion, so a few minutes later Vildred had went to the tent and returned with a roll of bandages in hand.

Sitting behind him, Vildred unwrapped the bandages around Ras, setting the bloodied ones aside, and he helped Ras take off his coat and sweater now that his injuries weren't as life-threatening. Ras tensed the moment his skin was hit by cold air, shivering at his shoulders. With his upper body bare, Vildred could see how pale he really was, deep red cuts marring his back, darkened only by the night.

Even though it was clear he was highly uncomfortable, either because of the wind or because Vildred was right behind him, Ras kept to himself. Vildred decided to make this as quick and painless as possible for him. Starting the task he looped the bandages around Ras's body, winding it until it was secure enough. It was quiet as he worked on this as they were the only two outside. There was the wind blowing, making Ras's skin prickle with goosebumps, but that was all.

Vildred paused midway through, hesitating as his gaze lingered on Ras's back, noting the wounds. They were healing, he could see that, but if Ras hadn't pushed him out of the way, then Vildred would've been the one who'd ended up with those injuries instead. But Ras should've left him alone. After all, he was the Heir and…

Vildred lowered the bandages. "What I said before about not leaving my back open to you…" he started. His eyes lingered on the wounds; a cause of his own fault. "I'm sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I might have been too harsh there."

Ras stiffened, dipping his head. "…It's alright. I'm used to it."

Vildred's hand tightened around the bandages, raising his voice. "It's not alright. If you're willing to expose your own back for me, then I should do the same for you as fellow comrades on this mission."

Ras turned his head back, eyes wide, and that was the first time he really looked at Vildred since their dispute last night. "No, it's…" His gaze softened. "…It's fine. I'll be okay even without protection, but I appreciate the offer."

"Don't say that." Vildred smiled as he continued wrapping the bandages around him, and he could feel some of the tension dissipating as Ras relaxed and loosened his back. "We're comrades now so we should look out for each other."

"…Alright." Ras's mouth widened into a bashful smile, face slightly red, or that was just the light from the fire—Vildred couldn't see clearly because of the shadows; and for a moment he was taken aback. He didn't think the Heir could make a face like that. It was so full of emotion.

Vildred felt his chest loosen, sensing that the tension and awkwardness that'd been following them since last night had disappeared completely. Ras seemed to be in a better mood than before. All day he'd been quiet and closed off, which had quickly spread the idea throughout the group that he didn't like interacting with others, so everyone had generally been avoiding him, not wanting to piss off the Heir.

Vildred could see that wasn't the case at all though, and no one had bothered trying to talk to Ras in the first place. He knew it was because everyone felt like Ras was in a different league than them, but for Vildred, he didn't really care. After being at the top of the military for a while now, he'd quickly learned not to give a shit about these sorts of things, and in a way, he could relate to Ras. He had his own fair share of people either sucking up to him or fearing him—both of which annoyed Vildred, but he'd stopped letting it bother him as time passed.

And he came to realize that Ras had no regard for Vildred's rank in return—either due to being oblivious or because he didn't care as well. Either way, Ras certainly hadn't treated him like others did upon first sight. It could be that he had nothing to fear about since Vildred had no real power over him, seeing as he wasn't a soldier, or he thought he could take Vildred down in a fight. After seeing Ras's skills earlier, he could say it would be a tough matchup, but one that might be fun.

Vildred finished the bandaging and tied a knot. "There. We're done." He stood up and collected the pile of old bandages to discard them.

When he came back, Vildred asked, "How long do you think the paralysis will last?"

"The Soul Weaver said a few hours, right?" Then he tried to move. "…I still can't." Ras shook his head in defeat.

"It was a deadly poison. Seemed like the kind used by Nilgal from what I saw."

Ras hummed thoughtfully. "Normally my body should be immune to that kind of poison, but ever since I woke up, I found that I've been weaker than usual. I think it'll take a while for me to recover my full strength."

"Immune?" Vildred asked, not really doing a good job at hiding his worry. Ras sounded nonchalant about this whole thing, like he was used to being poisoned, or maybe he genuinely did have no reason to worry since he wouldn't die from it. What concerned Vildred more was that mention about his weakened strength though. He hoped it was just a side effect of waking up from a deep sleep. He had no idea how long Ras had been out of it for, but he could bet it was at least a couple hundred of years.

"Yes. My body carries the blood of the Goddess in it, so poison wouldn't be very effective against me, even if it's from an Acolyte," Ras explained. "It doesn't mean I'm completely immune though—as you can see I'm paralyzed, but it's not something that would be enough to kill me on its own." He looked at himself, seeming pensive before continuing, "Still, I would've expected to be able to move by now." He looked back at Vildred with a sheepish smile.

Vildred muttered an "oh" after Ras finished, settling with that tidbit of information. After hearing this he realized Ras wasn't the invincible savior that everyone—even all those books and historical documents—projected him as, and Vildred was a fool for thinking that way as well. No, Ras was as fallible as any Human, only a bit less so, but he was here to serve his duty under the Goddess.

He also realized this was the longest Ras had ever spoken to him so far, or anyone else for that matter, aside from when Ras was talking back to him last night. But Ras had been upset then, whereas here he seemed to almost be enjoying Vildred's company, or at least doing a damn good job of acting like it. Vildred thought Ras would've been quiet and hard to talk to, and that he would've had to use a bit of his admittedly good charms to get him to open up, but that wasn't the case at all.

Vildred eyed the bloodstained clothes on the ground. "Let's wash the blood off your clothes first; there's a river nearby. Then we can get them tailored and fixed once we're back in Ezera."

"Err… okay." Ras was sitting in the cold with a meager wrapping of bandages around him and pants as his only form of covering, so Vildred took off his coat and gave it to him. Ras was hesitant to accept it at first, shaking his head at the offer, but he put it on after much insistence from Vildred.

The coat, as expected, looked less than fitting on Ras. It was quite billowy, especially the sleeves, and even rolled up they barely fit around his arms, hanging loosely. Ras tugged the sleeves down a second later seeing as they didn't even go up to his elbows when rolled up. He looked ridiculous in Vildred's coat but Vildred refrained from saying anything, because he got the feeling Ras was the more embarrassed of the two of them.

Vildred stood up and dusted the dirt and grass blades off his clothes. "Right, let's get going to the river now. Do you mind if I carry you there?"

Ras's eyes widened. "Uh… no." He looked like he wanted to say yes, he did mind, but he didn't have a choice anyway so he'd settled with the less offending answer.

Vildred restrained a chuckle. Turning around, he knelt down and helped Ras up onto his back, lifting him with a heave. "Is this okay? Your injuries don't hurt?" He straightened slowly, hands firm under Ras's legs.

Ras put his arms around Vildred's neck, head leaning forward. "Not really. It doesn't hurt at all."

Vildred paused. He didn't know if Ras was telling the truth or just trying to act tough. "Really? I would've carried you in my arms, but I didn't want to put pressure on your back. Should we switch to that then?"

Ras's arms tightened around Vildred's neck, and Vildred was just lucky it wasn't a chokehold. "No. I'm fine like this. Really, I don't mind being carried this way. I would prefer it this way."

Vildred contained his laughter well enough that his amusement showed up in the form of a smirk instead, which Ras couldn't see. "If you say so." He shrugged and kept walking.

Vildred bent down to where Ras's clothes were, asking Ras to pick them up since his own hands were a little busy carrying him. After much struggling Ras managed to pick up his fallen clothes, carrying them with his arms over Vildred's shoulders.

Little conversation was made during the walk to the river. With it being nighttime, Vildred had to walk slowly and take extra care of where he was going, but Ras didn't seem to mind how long it was taking to get to the river despite Vildred having said it was nearby.

The trail was serene, the atmosphere even more tranquil. There wasn't really any threat of enemies since they'd gotten rid of part of the Archdemon army that had been sighted to be here, and the ruins had proven to be a peaceful place in general. Not a lot of monsters resided here—certainly not any dangerous ones, and most of them had kept to themselves based on the encounters they'd went through.

The breeze was light and the trees murmured with leafy whispers. Ras was quiet, his breathing so even—several times Vildred had nearly thought he'd fallen asleep. When he spotted the river he notified Ras, his soft voice matching the ambience even though Vildred hadn't intended it that way, and Ras nodded with a sound of acknowledgement.

The grass was soft under Vildred's shoes as he stepped over to where the river was, careful to avoid patches of flowers. They walked down the incline, which wasn't that steep, and made it to the riverbank. Vildred set Ras down not too close to the water, a few good feet away from it. The current didn't look that strong, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Since he'd set Ras so far away from the water, Vildred took up Ras's clothes and went to the water by himself. "Just wait there."

He sat down and soaked the coat first. It was white and some of the blood had already dried, so it was going to be difficult to clean. Difficult, but not impossible.

"Thank you," Ras said when he realized what Vildred was doing. Vildred grunted.

Retrieving the Eternal Forest Dust from the pouch in his pocket, Vildred sprinkled some over the bloodstains. He repeated with the sweater next, laying both of them out to wait until the catalyst took effect.

Once the dust had settled in, he soaked the clothes in water again and scrubbed to wash off the blood. It was a tedious process that lasted a while, but the color was fading, and soon the clothes were clean of any blood. Vildred stood up with a sigh, wringing the clothes, then went back to Ras.

"I think I can stand now," Ras said. While Vildred had been washing his clothes, he'd been making attempts to move on his own. Vildred offered an arm out for Ras to grab onto as he planted his feet on the ground and attempted to stand. His legs were wobbly and he leaned against Vildred for the first few seconds, but he managed to stay on his feet.

After a few more minutes of attempting to stand up straight, he finally managed it. Ras flashed Vildred a victory smile, seeming really happy at being able to move again, and Vildred had no idea what to do or say, so he gave a smile in return. At least he wouldn't have to carry Ras on his back again. These wet clothes were heavy enough.

He almost had to laugh at his coat on Ras, though. Seeing it in full view now that Ras was standing up, the bottom of the coat almost touched the ground, reaching Ras's ankles.

Ras let go of Vildred's arm, and they walked side-by-side back to the campsite. When they reached it, Vildred hung Ras's clothes up on a makeshift clothesline, keeping it a good distance away from the fire. Ras was still wearing Vildred's coat and Vildred said it was fine for him to wear it until his clothes dried, which might take a day or two.

Vildred sighed as he sat down, sprawling his legs out. Now he could chill out after all that walking and cleaning… except Ras was sitting next to him for some reason instead of heading inside the tent.

Vildred ignored it for the most part and was gazing at the fire in front of him when Ras raised his hand. He hesitated midair, fingers twitching.

"What is it?" Vildred asked, turning to face him.

Ras paused, then continued reaching out. Vildred flinched. Looking down, he saw what Ras was touching.

Ras's fingertips ghosted the bruise along his shoulder, the faint light from the fire highlighting the purple marks. Ras observed it, touch gentle and fingers barely pressing onto Vildred's skin.

His voice was quiet. "This is…" He stopped, fingers lifting off the bruise.

Vildred asked, "Do you feel sorry about it?" Ras nodded.

He took Ras's hand and lowered it from his shoulder.

There were some fireflies floating around. They were a gentle glow in the night, flickering softly against the surroundings, lighting the still and silent air. Then they faded into the shadows no sooner than they had appeared. The lights were evanescent; ever-changing. For a moment Vildred was staring at Ras, unsure of why he'd taken Ras's hand into his own—and yet he was still holding it even now, fingers curled over Ras's.

"Don't be," he said. "It's fine." His voice was low. "There's no need to feel guilty. It doesn't really hurt that much and it'll probably go away on its own in a few days." He said that, but his hand was still over Ras's.

The fire was dim, dimmer than ever, and its crackling softened. Even the perpetual hum of wildlife that had been inescapable the past two nights seemed so quiet now. The fire's light brushed over Ras's hair, casting a warm glow on it. It was a strange play of color over the white strands.

A flash of lightning in the sky let him see Ras's face more clearly, and in that moment, blue eyes were all he could focus on. Then there was the murmur of thunder. Its trailing rumbles rolled in the clouds.

Vildred released Ras's hand. Ras lowered it a second later.

Ras was still staring at him, but Vildred didn't mind as much. He was getting used to Ras's presence. Still, he nudged him on the head to ask him what was up. "You keep staring at me."

Ras blinked, then realized Vildred had said something to him. He turned away, muttering an apology, and shook his head. "It's nothing." Then he looked up. "Ah, it's raining…"

Vildred looked up as well, feeling a drop of rain on his face. "You're right…" He pulled Ras's arm. "Come on, we should probably head inside. You go in first," Vildred said. "I gotta put out the fire." Ras nodded and retreated into the tent with his Guardian. After Vildred made sure it was properly put out, he collected Ras's clothes and entered the tent too.

Once inside, he said to Ras in a lighthearted tone, "You should sleep here tonight, unless you want to sleep outside like yesterday and risk catching a cold from the rain." He laid the still wet clothes out, flattening them as best as he could.

"I don't catch colds," Ras mumbled. Then he told his Guardian to transform. "Hopefully Arky is big enough to fit inside here."

The tent was not all that big considering Vildred was the only person sleeping here, whereas the others had packed tents big enough to fit at least two people. It fit with everyone’s sleeping accommodations; it would be unprofessional for Vildred to share his sleeping space with a subordinate, but since Ras wasn’t part of the military, he guess he could say it didn’t count. Besides, Ras really had no other place to stay and Vildred was the only one who had space left in his tent.

Vildred began unraveling his sleeping bag, keeping it at the edge of the tent while Ras took up the space on the other side. The transformed Guardian barely fit and had to lie on his stomach to keep from poking the top of his tent with his head. After the Guardian settled into a comfortable position, Ras lay on top of him, using him as a giant pillow.

Vildred took out the two blankets from last night and offered them to Ras. It was going to be extra cold tonight because of the rain and Ras was going to need it. Thankfully Vildred's sleeping bag was good at keeping the warmth trapped, but for Ras it was a different story, even if he had a pile of fur to sleep on.

Ras buried himself in the blankets, keeping his back to Vildred while Vildred settled himself into the sleeping bag and made himself comfortable. He turned to face away from Ras, too. They were almost pushed up against each other in the small confines of the space.

Wind blew against the walls of the tent, rain pouring hard. The tent remained standing without a tear but wobbled at the sides. Vildred could see the fabric being pushed in, just short of ripping as the rain harshened, drops hitting in multitude. The force of the splashes was felt even with the tent covering them. Thunder rumbled in intervals and the temperature noticeably dropped. Within minutes it had become a full-fledged thunderstorm.

“This mission…” Ras started. He looked back over his shoulder at Vildred. “How long do you think it’ll last?”

Vildred looked back at him too. “Two or three more days at most. We’ll stay for a day to scout for any remains of the Archdemon Army, then start heading back to Ezera. After that… we probably won’t see each other again for a while.” He had soldiers to oversee and train for the war, while Ras would probably be dispatched on more missions dealing with the Archdemon army in various parts of Ritania.

“Oh…” Ras said.

“It’s not like we won’t see each other at all,” Vildred added, hearing the dip in Ras’s voice. “We might be able to catch each other at the castle still.”

“Yeah.” Ras smiled, then turned his head back to face the wall. Vildred did the same.

He closed his eyes, letting the rain wash over his thoughts. Even with the loud storm he was lethargic because of his lack of sleep from yesterday, so he could feel himself on the verge of passing out despite all the wind and noise. A lot had happened today and frankly, Vildred needed the rest.

His mind barely registered the fluffy Guardian that was taking up space a few inches behind him, and Ras himself was an enigma Vildred still needed to figure out. He'd gotten to know him better over the past two days, and the original impression he'd built up of the Heir—both from before he'd met him and from their first meeting—was slowly crumbling. He still didn't know Ras all that much, but… it was a start.