Chapter 2

The Ha'tinre tensed, about to rush the Templik. If anything, he could take out at least one more of them.

"Savik?" Calsa pushed up her helm more to see through the eye slits easier.

"Who... ?"

She suddenly pulled her helm off, rushing forward. "Savik!"

"Calsa?! What... ?" The Templik was nearly knocked over by Calsa. He righted himself quickly, returning her hug awkwardly with the armor clanging against each other. "What are you doing here? How did you get in? Who's this?"

"I came to rescue you! What are you doing?" Her smile was almost painful, but she couldn't help it, the feeling of relief and happiness overwhelming.

"After the Templiks caught me, they gave me the chance to either become one of them or die. I figured the best course of action was to join them and hope they gave me a street patrol so I could get back to you. Damn it, little sister, you are so much more stubborn than mom ever was!" He ruffled her short pale blue hair.

"I hate to break the joy of this reunion, but we had better move along," the Ha'tinre said in a hushed tone. He could sense something sinster in the vicinty.

"Who are you?" Savik glared at him.

"That's not important right now. Do you know the way to the general's quarters?"

"Why?" Savik kept his hand on his sword.

"Look, do you hate the Templiks?"

"Of course, they killed my parents and all my friends."

"Everyone's dead?" Calsa looked at him in horror.

"Yeah, none of them would take the deal, so the Templik dogs cut them down where they stood. The prisons are full and they said they won't be giving any quarter to resistance orphans." He spoke with hatred and sorrow, remembering having to watch all his friends die one by one.

"Then if you know where the general is, I suggest you take me there. The faster the better." The Ha'tinre glanced about as if nervous.

Savik thought a moment before gesturing for the Ha'tinre to follow him. "Calsa, you go back the way you came. I'll come for you when they let me go out on street patrol, I promise."

"Oh no. He and I made a deal. I'm not going to walk away from that!" She crossed her arms, her stance firm.

Savik glared at her, but knew better than to argue with his sister when she had that look. "You are insufferable! Fine, then just stay close. And put your helm back on!"

Once she'd done that, Savik led them down the long multitude of halls and corridors. Luckily, there were few patrols, and of what they saw, they were able to duck into nitches and avoid being seen. It took them nearly a half hour to finally get to a larger hallway. At the end were large double doors. Savik nodded at it. "That's it. You plan on killing him?"

The Ha'tinre gave a nod as he peered around. Savik snorted. "Good luck, he keeps the place locked tight with magic. And he has four guards with him most times. Killing them all before they set off an alarm would be impossible."

"I think I'll manage. You two should probably get out of here, though, just in case." He started toward the doors.

"Not so fast! I made a promise and I intend to keep it." Calsa started after him. The Ha'tinre turned just as Savik grabbed his sister's arm.

"You have your brother, and you helped me get in and find the general. That was the deal. Go now." He turned away again but Calsa had no intentions of obeying.

"I want to see him dead as much as anyone! Because of him our parents and friends are dead. Savik, you can't just turn away from this!"

Savik pursed his lips. He growled in indescion. She had a point. Before the Ha'tinre could tell them to leave before he killed them, Savik let go of his sister and stood straight. "She's right. You'll surely be killed without help, and quite frankly I should have taken death rather than be one of these dogs. I'll help you."

The Ha'tinre growled, but he realized this was not a battle he was going to win. "Fine. Let's go."

He strode toward the door, feeling the magical energy that coursed through the wood. Taking a breath, he placed his hands against it. Sparks flashed for a moment before the spell broke, the doors unlocked. He glanced back, giving a sharp nod to the two before swinging the doors open. They rushed in, not sure what they would find.

The large open room afforded plenty of space for Savik to swing his sword at the back of a guard's neck. The body stiffened before crumpling to the ground. The other guard had barely any more chance to turn before a blade split his vertabre. The two were the only guards the general had thought to keep with him. He had grown much too confident in the security of his fortress. He gave a yell, turned to rush to the mantle over the fire where a Templik symbol gleamed in the firelight. The Ha'tinre flicked his wrist, sending a small knife whizzing through the air.

Calsa had hoped he would have made a little more noise when he fell to the ground. Maybe a cry, or a groan, even a gurgle would have saficed, but he dropped to the floor, the blade striking true at the base of his skull, killing him before he even hit the ground.

None of them had the chance to think that it had been too simple. A brilliant flash of light blinded them for a moment. Able to see again, they heard a dark chuckle, the kind that caused the hairs to stand on end all over their bodies. A black clothed figure suddenly seemed to melt right out of the wall. His head and face were covered, his whole body wrapped in a slightly loose black garment. Only the faintly glowing green eyes were visible. The man floated down to the ground, his eyes locked on the trio.

"Ha'trin! So good of you to make yourself so very easy to find. I could sense you in here somewhere, but your ... anti magic was making it difficult to locate you."

Calsa looked at the one she had thought was Ha'tinre. "You're a Ha'trin?"

The true Ha'tinre laughed. The Ha'trin pulled out another throwing knife. "It surprises me that people still hire the Ha'tinre, you always seem to let your employers die."

The Ha'tinre looked down at the general's body with a sardonic, "oops." Then he shrugged. "His death is a small price to pay to be able to kill you, Ha'trin." He held up his hand, a crackling ball of darkness forming in his palm, the black sparks dancing through his fingers.

"You know magic won't do anything to me!" the Ha'trin scoffed.

"Not you, but them." Calsa gasped as he turned to her, tossing the odd magical ball at her. She heard the Ha'trin curse and rush toward her. But he was much too slow. With a cry, Savik pressed his shoulder into his sister, tossing her to the ground. It was last sound he would ever make. The ball expanded as soon as it struck him, crackling around him, engulfing him, and then vanishing, leaving nothing, not even ashes.

Too shocked to move, Calsa stared at the spot her brother had just been. She didn't hear the two assassins battle. Their weapons clashed, but she didn't see them. So shocked was she still that when she felt hands grab her, dragging her to her feet, saw the face of the Ha'trin before her, saw his lips move, she couldn't understand him, couldn't feel him, couldn't feel her own feet as he pulled her after him. She didn't know that she ran, didn't notice when they finally emerged into the light, didn't hear the sirens going off as they ran.

She hardly knew when they had reached the treeline, running through the forest. Then the Ha'trin stopped and bent down next to an old gnarled tree. He groped through the leaves for a moment before finding a handle and jerking up a small wooden door. He grabbed Calsa, still not totally comprehending the events around her, and shoved her into the small hole. He dropped in after her, pulling the door shut over their heads. Enveloped in cool darkness, she finally started to hear the world come back. First, it was her own heart pounding from the run, her breathing, his breathing. She could hear the Templiks yell over their heads as their heavy booted feet pounded by.

When at last it had gone eerily quiet, Calsa realized her face was wet. She leaned her head against the Ha'trin, her sobs so fierce she thought surely she would suffocate, and truthfully, at that moment, she wished for it. She felt the Ha'trin put his arms around her, holding her close as she wept against the chest plate he still wore. She didn't know how long they stayed there as she cried, but the Ha'trin said nothing. He made no signs of impatience. He just held her calmly, held her until at last she had no tears left. He looked down at her when she gave a shuddering sigh, making sure she was done before reaching up and pushing the small trap door open.

Easily, he pulled himself out of the hole, turning to help her out. She was so weak that she had almost no strength to even lift her arm to him. Hauling her out, he wordlessly helped her get out of the heavy armor before she collapsed. After shedding his own, he placed all the pieces into the hole before closing the door and making certain it was well hidden. Then he turned back to Calsa. "I'll take you to the next town. Hopefully you can start a new life there, maybe find another group of orphans. No one saw your face so you should be safe."

Too weak to argue, her throat too dry to say anything anyways, she nodded and followed him slowly. The day was already late, so they didn't go too far before the Ha'trin stopped them and got about making a small camp. He didn't make a fire, saying it would attract any Templiks that were still out looking for them. Instead he gathered moss and leaves, creating a small bed for Calsa. Even though she was exhausted, the image of her brother's face, twisted in agony, flashed brightly behind her eyelids. Finally she turned to her side and looked at the Ha'trin. He stared up at the sky, sitting with an arm draped over a knee.

"Why did you tell me you were Ha'tinre?" Her voice was hushed, strained from her still swollen throat.

He looked down at her. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Most people don't fear the Ha'trin. They consider us heros."

"Aren't you suppose to be?"

He scoffed. "Hardly. We just don't share the Ha'tinre's sense of dishonesty, betrayal, and opession of the weak. That hardly makes us heros."

Calsa didn't press that. She didn't feel like arguing. "Why did you become a Ha'trin?"

He raised a brow at her. "My father was one. Died fighting the Ha'tinre. I decided I wanted to join and carry on in his name. At first it was for revenge, but amongst the Ha'trin there is no such concept. Revenge only makes you lose sight of what's truly important in life. If you spend your life trying to get back at those who do you wrong, you don't have much of a life."

"I guess." Calsa sighed.

The Ha'trin stood. "I'll be back in a moment. I hear a stream nearby. I'll get us some water." He vanished into the dark brush. For the first time in her life, Calsa felt afraid to be left alone. Everyone she had ever cared about was gone. The Ha'trin was the only person who she even knew anymore. She sat up, looking around in the darkness.

She was about to stand and go out after the Ha'trin when he emerged from the brush again. He held out the waterskin to her. "Drink. We have a long day tomorrow."

Without hesitation, not thinking about his choice of words, she drank thirstily, nearly finishing the waterskin. She barely had enough time to put the skin down and lay back onto the bed of leaves and moss before the tasteless potion took affect.

It took her awhile to wake. She could feel the Ha'trin nudge her, but she didn't want to open her eyes. "Wake up, we need to get moving. Port Lezlan is a full day's walk."

Finally Calsa opened her eyes and looked up at him. He offered his hand to help her stand. Pulling her to her feet, he quickly got rid of any evidence of the camp, kicking the leaves around. Then he handed her a large strip of jerky he had in one of his many pouchs and headed off.

Calsa followed without a word for many hours. Around midday, they came to a road, paved and smooth. A wagon creaked by, pulled by a large, shaggy beast. The Ha'trin began to follow the road heading northwest. After another hour of silence, Calsa finally drew closer to him.

"How did you feel when you lost your father?"

He looked down at her. "Probably the same way you do."

She looked to her feet. "How did you deal with it?"

"I joined the Ha'trin. I learned to accept his death and how to honor his memory while still moving on with my own life."

"How did they teach you that?"

He stopped suddenly. She nearly ran into him. Turning, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Grieving is natural, there's no way around it. But do you think he would want you to spend more than a day or two lost in the memory of his death? Or do you think he'd rather you think of all the good times, carry those in your heart and let those memories guide you and help you grow?"

She blinked. Then she looked down at her feet, shrugging. She didn't know what to say to that. The Ha'trin turned and continued walking. As they went, Calsa's mind raced. She finally got up close to him again. "I want to be like you."

"What?" He suddenly turned to look at her.

"I want to be a Ha'trin."

He realized he had to fight an urge to hold her close and tell her everything would be alright. She looked so lost in that moment. But he steeled himself and shook his head, continuing the journey. "Not going to happen."

"Why?" Calsa ran ahead of him and stopped in front of him, making herself into a barrier.

"Because, there are no women in the Ha'trin." He continued past her without stopping.

"Is it a rule?" She hurried after him.

"No, it's just that no woman in a thousand years has passed the final test."

"Then I'll be the first!" He had to stop again to glare at her.

"You are not going with me. I only said I'll take you to the next town and that's it. I won't put my status on the line for you." He continued again. "Besides, once you started training you'd want to stop and go back to your old life and I don't want to waste my time..."

"No!" She stood before him again. "I'll go through your training! All of it! Whatever it takes. I want to become one." She crossed her arms. Glowering at her, he didn't say anything. He just kept walking.

As they went, Calsa could smell a change in the air. The weather cooled down and there was a stronger breeze blowing. Loud birds flew overhead. The sun was bright and fiery by the time they got over a hill and looked down on a large, busy port town.

As they drew close, the Ha'trin started to speed up. "This will be your new home. I'm catching a boat back to where I belong."

"I'm not staying here..."

"Fine, go where you like, but you're not coming with me." He didn't look back at her as he headed toward the docks.

"You can't get rid of me so easily! I've made up my mind!"

The Ha'trin scoffed, looking down a street as he picked up his pace again. "You're a much easier pest to be rid of than you think."

Calsa was about to retort when a cart made her have to stop and dodge. She hurried around it, a scathing remark on her tongue. But there was no Ha'trin to hear it.

He leaned back against the barrels in the hold of the large cargo ship. The captain was an ally to the Ha'trin, and he had been delaying his run until he'd returned from his mission. With only the creaking of the ship's hull and the gentle sloshing sounds of both the ocean and the barrels of Templik wine, his mind went back to the last few days. He felt a little regret for leaving the girl behind. But he figured it was for the best.

It wasn't an hour later that he heard a scuffle up on the deck. He could hear raised voices, but he couldn't understand them. Leaping to his feet, he climbed the ladder up onto the deck to see what was going on. He was able to snag a sailor who rushed by toward the group on the port side. "What's going on?"

"Stowaway. We toss 'em in the water for the beasties down there. Dumb kids, they always think they can get a free ride."

The Ha'trin then heard the one voice he had been hoping he'd left behind. He gave a little groan as he strode over to the group.

"You'll be sorry if you don't let me go!" Calsa struggled desperately against the two large sailors holding her arms, about ready to toss her into the water.

"You, boy, made a grave mistake. And you'll pay for it like all the rest of the stowaways." The second in command pointed his sword down toward the water. "I hope you can swim."

"Throwing him in the water would be a grave mistake." The commander turned and looked at the Ha'trin.

"Why's that?" he sneered.

"Because that just so happens to be my apprentice and his test was getting onto the ship undetected. Obviously, we'll need to do some more training, though it wasn't a bad start." He waved his hand nonchalantly.

Sneering, the sailors released Calsa, giving her a shove toward the Ha'trin. She stumbled over to him, glaring back at them as she adjusted her clothing.

"I'll have a talk with the captain about this, mark my words!" The commander stomped off toward the captain's quarters.

Without hesitation, the Ha'trin grabbed Calsa's arm and pushed her toward the ladder. "Get down there," he hissed at her.

Glaring at him, she nonetheless obeyed. He followed after her, turning on her when they were out of earshot of the sailors up on deck. "How the hell did you find me?"

"It wasn't that hard. I asked around the dock. No one had seen you. So I figured you hadn't gotten on a ship yet. I spent the night behind some crates and in the early morning, stalked around on the rooftops overlooking the docks. You weren't hard to miss, you have a certain walk." She spoke haughtily, as if she'd outsmarted him.

"You do realize you're stupid and stubborn and probably just signed your death warrant?"

She crossed her arms again. "I doubt that! I can handle anything you wanna throw at me. I'll go through the training, I'll pass the test, and then I'll become a Ha'trin."

"You really want this, do you?" He narrowed his eyes. She nodded vigorously. "Once you start, it's either finish it all or die. You sure this is really what you want?"

"How many times do I have to say yes?" she growled.

And then she found herself on the ground, the side of her face throbbing. She looked up at him in surprise. "Very well. Then you'll need to learn the rules. And the first rule is holding your tongue with me!"

"Alt! What's this about a stowaway apprentice?" The captain came down the ladder, glancing over his shoulder at the two.

The Ha'trin turned. "My apologies. It's a long, unnessacary story." He seemed like he was about to reach into his pouch when a thought crossed his mind. "Do you think my 'apprentice' could ... help around the ship?" The captain raised a brow. "I think some good hard, honest labor will teach him a lot in the ways of being humble and thankful for what he has." Calsa glared at him, grinding her teeth, but held her tongue.