Bore woke up sore but bandaged. He lay on a bunk in one of the tents converted into a makeshift field hospital. Next to him sat Boil, talking to someone. The empty eye socket was no longer empty. A green eye filled the void, starkly contrasting with his natural gray one.
"...that son of a bitch waited until the Brothers were out of camp. He almost got the jump on her. He wouldn't have survived the fight anyway, but if he had landed that first strike right... This might be the first time I've seen anyone get that close to her," said the second man standing next to Boil.
"Is that the recruit's eye? The one who carved?" Bore asked in a weak voice.
Boil stopped talking and glanced at him with reluctant acknowledgment. "I think so, but I didn't ask. Now get up on those crooked legs of yours. If you need to, lean on me. We're marching straight to the Commander's tent. The top brass wants to see you."
Bore stood, wobbling and stumbling, supported by Boil and the other man, whose face he couldn't recognize after the Black Mage had stitched it back together. They finally made it to the Commander's tent. He tried to straighten up and salute, but the Commander, without looking up from the report he was reading, gestured for him to sit on the prepared chair. Of course, Skin was there too. As always. Bore sighed at the sight of her, then felt his heart clench painfully as he saw the same, perpetual indifference in her eyes. He hadn't expected anything from her after what had happened, but still... just a little...
"Stay. You'll be witnesses," came the succinct order.
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Boil and Kapi — whom Bore recognized only now from a characteristic way he clicked his tongue — stayed without a word. The Commander finally set the document aside and looked up, locking eyes with Bore.
"As a token of gratitude for your vigilance, I'm granting you the right to request one thing. If it's within reason, it will be yours."
Boil and Kapi both inhaled sharply, and Bore choked on his own spit. Coughing and gasping, he tried to process what he'd just heard. The Commander waited.
"I..."
He started speaking hesitantly, but the moment he saw the calmness in those cold eyes of the bastard sitting behind the desk, he cut himself off at once. He glanced at Skin. She gave him a barely perceptible nod, urging him to speak. Annoyed by her indifference, the Commander's expectant gaze, and most of all by his disbelief in his own luck — which he generally lacked — he blurted out words he would regret many times over.
"I ask to be discharged from service and allowed to retire, Commander."
A heavy silence fell over the tent. Bore was now quite sure he'd end up with his throat slit, but nothing of the sort happened. The Commander returned to his documents, skimmed through a couple, then pulled out a third. He scribbled a few words, stamped it, and handed it to Skin. She signed it and then passed it to Bore.
"You're free. You have a week to recover and settle any outstanding matters with the other soldiers. After that, you will leave the camp," the Commander said in a calm voice.
You're free, Bore repeated in his mind, staring in disbelief at the document in his hands confirming his release from duty and the termination of his contract with the Nameless Company.
"Dismissed," the Commander ordered a moment later, saluting Bore.
He returned the salute, feeling oddly moved.
There were many things one could say about the Commander, but breaking promises wasn't one of them. A week later, Bore left the Nameless Company and set out for a place he once hated so deeply. He was going back to the Bloody Meadows. He was going back home.
