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Chapter Six: The Oath of Vengeance

  Chapter Six

  It was almost evening by the time Ham and the others reached Strixenguard.

  It was in chaos.

  The same delighted parents and students Ham had seen earlier in the day were now panicking and rushing about to get as far away from the university as possible. He guessed that nobody wanted to send their children to a Strixhaven that had nearly been crushed by a prophetic meteor. It was wise of them. The university was no longer a place for young children; it was now a warzone, and it pained Ham to think about the students who might’ve been caught in the fray when the Hand’s forces laid siege to it.

  It further frustrated Ham to see how slow everyone at Strixenguard moved to respond to the siege. Yes, it took time gathering soldiers, equipping them with weaponry and rations, but understanding that didn’t make it any less infuriating. Every second they wasted was a second longer the students and teachers at the university had to suffer.

  Ham eventually gave up on simmering and decided to put his energy to better use.

  He started looking for Lester and the other members of his group.

  He found them in the market, where he had left the cart. Cyrus, Derrick, and Fanny were all back as well.

  “There you are,” Derrick said as he spotted him. “We’ve been waiting here for hours! Thought you’d gone ahead and actually got yourself killed this time?”

  Derrick was one of the older members of his troop with a scruffy white-and-black beard.

  “Well, almost!” Ham said with a little snicker. “But I pulled through.”

  Then Cyrus spoke up, the tall, emaciated boy with a little hunch to his posture, who had always given Ham an impression of a praying mantis.

  “We heard…” he said between pauses, “you’ve been fighting the orcs who were trying to destroy the Soul Stones.”

  “And that you’ve become some sort of Avatar,” finished Fanny, the only female in their small group, taken along for her expertise in selecting the best produce and her negotiation skills. Sort of a sisterly figure for Ham.

  “Is it true?” Lester asked from behind. “Sir?”

  “Yes,” Ham said simply, while examining his left hand, which had been leaking black and green smoke during his transformation but was now as mundane as ever. “And there is something I need you all to do for me.”

  They all stood up.

  “What is it?” Derrick asked, his tone hinting utter compliance while his hand went to his short sword. The other three tensed up as well.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” Ham explained. “I just need you all to take the supplies back to Chimney Comb without me.”

  They all looked at each other as a quiet understanding passed between them.

  “All right,” Derrick said.

  Ham was taken aback.

  “Wait, no objections? I assumed you’d all at least try stopping me!”

  “Nah…” Derrick replied. “I knew your father, son. There’s no way Kaizer’s offspring would stay bound to a small village forever.”

  “It’s…” Ham found himself grasping for words. “It’s not that I want to go! I would gladly stay at Chimney Comb, serving the people.”

  “But you have bigger responsibilities now,” Derrick completed. “We get it!”

  Ham saw the other three nodding in agreement, and his eyes started watering.

  “Don’t worry about your mother too much either,” Derrick said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be mad at first, but I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  “Also, sticking around you for so long, we’ve learned a few moves of our own,” said Cyrus, pulling out his rapier and performing a flashy maneuver. “We’ll protect the village in your stead.”

  Ham knew this wasn’t a complete boast. These men could handle themselves, though Ham had been the best among them.

  “Keep my mother out of harm’s way while I’m gone. She sometimes starts channeling my father’s spirit.”

  To Ham’s surprise, Lester’s tinny voice rang loudest: “I’ll keep her safe even if it kills me!”

  That lad was going to turn into a fine warrior one day, Ham thought to himself as he watched them prepare the cart.

  Then, the four of them were on their way to Chimney Comb, and Ham was left alone on a rather busy road.

  After that, the next two days slipped by for Ham as he found himself lost in preparations for their unique pilgrimage on the road to Strixhaven. It seemed the Jarl and the others were planning to send the five of them ahead as a spearhead to clear the way for the army, to investigate and disarm any potential traps or bottlenecks. Which was kind of weird at first glance, but according to the Jarl and Captain Trask, that’s how the Second Great War had been fought and won as well: the best heroes Arcavios could offer, led by Kaizer, had left the army behind and worked as a precision force until it was time for the two armies to collide, successfully avoiding any large-scale traps and casualties until the very end.

  Naturally, the Jarl didn’t want them to just die facing the first threat they encountered, so he had allotted them a big grant to be used on weapons and magical gear. However, wherever they went now, they were treated with respect, and shopkeeps gave them extra discounts on top of the grants. This meant they were soon loaded with the best gear Strixenguard could offer. And it could offer a lot, thanks to people like Merlin the enchanter, who were best at what they did.

  Their old weapons were replaced with enchanted magical weapons—even though Ham did not part with his Dancing Greatsword. Their armors and shields, at least for those who used them, were replaced with shining new ones. Ham was now clad in a golden plate that looked kind of gaudy but solid enough to take a few hits. Gharan, on the other hand, who did not like armor and thought it was for people with fragile constitutions, had gotten himself some bracers which could act as a measure of protection in a scuffle without robbing him of his mobility. Rhaldri, Kalypsiana, and William all bought various magical do-hickies that they thought could come in handy during their journey. Like a magical hole that you could use as storage. A portable fortress that you can just pop out anywhere and use like a house or even a defensive structure. And many more things of this nature.

  Next came the mounts, as traveling by foot could take too much time. Remi the Rider was more than glad to provide them the best of steeds available. Gharan obviously went overboard and asked for the biggest one he had and found himself a mammoth—but who was Ham to judge? Will and Kalypsiana bought themselves a pegasus to share, as the pair of lovebirds they were. Rhaldri decided there was enough space to ride on the mammoth with Gharan.

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  When Remi finally asked Ham, he picked the Blue Drake out of everything.

  For those who don’t know, a drake is a wingless, smaller variant of a dragon, and they come in all shapes and colors according to the dragon scales used to conjure them. Most are not large enough to carry another human, but this one seemed special.

  According to Remi, drakes were hard to tame, but caring for the horse his father had left behind had taught Ham the basics of dealing with animals, and Ham had very little trouble taming him. The two of them seemed like they were made for one another, and Ham named the beast Thorn on account of the sharp horn poking out from its forehead. They were soon bests of friends.

  It was not a fast ride, nor even the most dangerous one compared to the mammoth, but it had style. A Stormborn riding a blue dragon-like beast had a certain symmetry to it, and Ham loved it.

  Then finally came the time they had to leave Strixenguard and start their perilous journey to Strixhaven.

  In two days since the star fell, the smoke rising from the university had ceased. The reports confirmed that it was now fully under the control of the cult, but fortunately, they had decided to enslave most of the students and faculty instead of killing them outright, which meant they had time to save them.

  As the five of them stood near the edge of Strixenguard with their mounts, garbed in cloaks—loincloth in Gharan’s case—corresponding to their patron dragons (black for Ham, blue for Kalypsiana, white for Rhaldri, red for Gharan, and green for Will), a small gathering came to see them off. The Jarl, Lora Frostfire, Captain Trask, Merlin, Remi, and other important figures were there.

  There was a round of farewell wishes and best of luck, which was well received by the “Avatars,” as they were now almost unanimously being called, and then they saddled up to head out.

  Except… the unexpected happened.

  A soldier came pushing past the gathered crowd, causing a commotion, and went directly to see Captain Trask. For some reason, Ham stopped Thorn to observe the two, a sudden inexplicable dread settling into his stomach that had nothing to do with the dangers ahead.

  Captain Trask listened to the soldier, and his jaw stiffened. Then he looked at Ham.

  Ham was sprinting before hearing half the report from Trask, leaving everything behind but the armor he was wearing, having no time to unbuckle it. A confused group of Avatars followed him.

  His body had gone completely numb to all senses. All questions or protests met deaf ears as he ran. He did not know how many people he shoved out of his way as he rushed through the streets of Strixenguard. Only one thing mattered: to reach the infirmary, where…

  He did not even dare think on it. What if he didn’t find her there? He didn’t think he could bear it.

  He reached the infirmary a moment before the soldier leading them and slammed open the door with his shaking hands.

  Eight people. Only eight people were present in the room apart from the clerics, each occupying a bunk, being tended to in various states of unrest and pain. He could instantly recognize the closest ones; he had spent his entire life with them. They were people of Chimney Comb. Survivors of Sakoe.

  Captain Trask had told him, but it was a whole other thing seeing it with his own eyes—a physical blow that knocked the wind out of him. He had hoped there was some misunderstanding. That perhaps the survivors were not from Chimney Comb but Strixhaven. That was the place under attack, right?

  Ham became selfish then and rushed past the wounded people in the front, barely giving them an apologetic look in passing. Desperately looking for his mother in one of the bunks.

  He found her in the end. Wounded and unconscious. But breathing. And it eased the clenching in his chest a little.

  Unable to contain himself, he rushed toward her, trying to take her in an embrace, but a dwarf he did not see threw him back with unexpected force.

  “I have just sutured her wounds!” he shouted. “Keep a little distance, will you?”

  At first, anger started boiling within him—unreasonable, red-hot fury that could burn the world. But then a spell hit him from behind, and his emotions suddenly calmed. He looked back and saw Rhaldri. He wanted to be angry at her too, but he just couldn’t; the spell was holding strong. Calmed as he was now, when he looked back, he saw… the chaos he had caused in his wake. Strewn-about physician tools rested on the ground, a few clerics lay sprawled, and even a wounded one stood holding his hand. Ham gulped and breathed a few times.

  “I apologize,” he spoke with his suddenly hoarse voice, his eyelids feeling heavy. “Just let me help them. They are my people. I will leave then.”

  His voice held truth, and perhaps more importantly calm, and everyone listened.

  He reached his hand out to his mother and tapped the reservoir of healing magic that lay unspent within him. It was one of the talents he had developed sometime during his puberty, something he had assumed to be courtesy of Bahamut, their family god, and tried to heal her a little. It healed some of her wounds but did not wake her up, and Ham decided to channel the remainder of his healing energy into the other wounded people of his town.

  It was more of a gesture than actual help, as there were clerics here who could do a better job at healing than him, but he wanted to do something for them at the least. Since he had obviously failed in his duty to protect them.

  The last one that he healed, and perhaps the most wounded, was actually Derrick. The first person he had passed on the way in.

  Derrick looked at him smiling. He had an arm missing and still smiled as Ham closed the wound.

  “We fulfilled our vow, didn’t we?”

  Ham finally started crying. It burbled out of him in sobs and hiccups as he hugged the stump of Derrick’s arm.

  “I am sorry… I am sorry I wasn’t there.”

  Derrick slapped him across the face.

  “Don’t be a fool. You can’t be everywhere.”

  “But I abandoned my duty. If I was there…”

  “You would be dead as well,” he spoke with unexpected sternness. “The Hydra wasn’t alone this time!”

  Ham looked up at Derrick with swollen eyes. Confused.

  “Someone was riding it. They were looking for you and Viona. And they murdered anyone who did not know, or refused to tell them, your whereabouts.”

  Cold. It was as if someone had filled his lungs with ice. After 12 years, the Hydra was back, and it was not random—it was looking for him. Ham started shaking and hyperventilating. The images of countless flailing heads, the scent of burnt flesh, the sounds of people running, and the screech, the horrible, horrible screech of the monster filled his head. That child, the scared little helpless child, was creeping back, and Ham could do little to keep him boxed.

  “When we reached the village, the attack was already underway. Half the townsfolk were already killed, and your mother was trying to help get as many people out of the town as possible,” Derrick continued, as if he hadn’t noticed the spasming mass of nerves sitting in front of him that was Ham. “At first, we thought we could stay hidden. But the knight, that dark knight, could sense us. I lost my arm to him.”

  Ham tried to gulp down the fear, but his throat was so raw it did not allow it.

  “Lester…” Derrick said, and his lips started quivering. “That wonderful, stupid child…”

  His voice broke, and with it broke Ham’s heart. He could sense what was coming next. With visible effort, Derrick resummoned his composure and continued.

  “He took a final stand facing the Hydra and the knight. Fanny and Cyrus went with him.” Tears started dropping down from both Derrick’s and Ham’s eyes. “It is because of them even the eight of us survived.”

  Ham fell back on his haunches, his feet unable to support his weight any longer, and he closed his eyes. He could not believe this was happening to him. Sakoe was over. It was 12 years ago. The hydra had made the abandoned town its lair and had never come out of it. Then how could Chimney Comb be attacked? And why?

  Lester. Young, timid Lester, who had always looked up to Ham. He was dead. He had died protecting his mother, just as he said he would. He would not see him again, and it was partly his fault to fill his head with notions of bravery and sacrifice. Now he was dead, and Ham was shamelessly still alive.

  That did it for him. All the fear and sorrow melted away as it gave form to something else. Something more primal and savage. Anger. Anger at himself for not being there. Anger at failing yet another time. Anger at animals who would commit such travesties. A fury so bright that his breath came out in vapors.

  Ham stood up.

  “Which way did it take?”

  “Northeast. Toward the university.”

  Ham nodded.

  “Thank you, Derrick.”

  Then Ham spoke the words. Truly spoke them, not in dark rooms, in the dead of night, or within the confines of his mind, but out in the open. Giving words to the bottled-up pain and suffering of a decade, and the conviction he had always held and followed.

  “I will avenge my father. I will avenge Lester, Cyrus, Fanny, and all the lives taken by the Hydra and whomever is controlling it. Nothing will stop me—no mortal, demon, or god, not even death!”

  Something clicked inside Ham, like a latch being clasped. Suddenly, the amulet of Bahamut that he had around his neck started floating and glowing with a divine radiance.

  Ham had heard and read about oaths enoughs to know that they weren’t governed by any gods but the cosmic energy present in each and every one—it was an extension, a manifestation of one’s willpower. But he knew as well that gods did oversee them. The words he had just spoken were recognized by Bahamut, permanently sealing his fate to that one vow until he fulfills it or dies trying. When he turned back, he saw all four of his companions standing with a resolute stance.

  “So when are we breaking this Hydra’s neck?” Gharan said, cracking his knuckles. “Kaly tells me that it has a lot of them.”

  “Let’s go get them now!”

  ________________________________________

  That evening, when a frustrated Ham lay down, putting his pain-induced journal to the side, it was after a hard march that ended at Grove of Souls—the halfway point between Marshtown and Strixenguard.

  Despite their every attempt at being loud and noticeable, they did not see the Hydra or the knight anywhere. Even though all sources indicated that this was the way the monster was last seen heading. It was as if it had completely vanished.

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