Liandre couldn't believe it had been so easy to kiss the lips of the elven mage, trapped in the cursed tower. The myths surrounding his legendary figure hadn't prepared him for this. The circumstances made his mind go blank for a few moments, until he pulled away from his lips, with great effort; he would have preferred to keep feeling that soft, inviting touch. Gazing at the smaller man's face, from so close, only made the situation even more surreal.
— Why? — The mercenary's words slipped out without thinking. But there was no answer: two people entered the cabin, ending the intimacy they had shared just minutes before.
Khaled quickly composed himself. He was thinking seriously about the situation; he was meticulous and quite manipulative — not that he was proud of that fact, it was simply the best path to get what he wanted. He knew that soon everything would become more difficult. Everym would not let him follow his path without obstacles. He needed Liandre completely surrendered, his mind fully trusting him, without a single doubt in his heart; only then could he proceed toward total power.
Although they needed to sleep when night fell, Liandre didn't feel comfortable in the presence of strangers. But he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He would just rest; he wouldn't be able to fall asleep in the current situation, especially because he still felt his lips tingling.
He couldn't really dwell on this small incident for long; he heard movement coming from the front. When he opened his eyes, both strangers were holding weapons: two very sharp short swords.
— If you obey nicely, you won't need to get hurt — the woman said in a low tone.
But the mercenary noticed the pair's lack of equipment and drew his sword with impressive speed, pointing it at the man's neck, who didn't even know what had happened. Khaled just watched in silence; he wanted to understand the situation before taking any action.
— You'd better explain what you were planning to do — the mercenary's threatening voice displayed all his violent resolve, pressing the blade until a thin line of blood stained the fabric.
The two in front were surprised and remained silent for a few moments, until they finally found their voices again.
— There's no point in us surrendering. This train is already being taken over. You can only wait and deal with the consequences — the man said, as if he had a great triumph.
Liandre wondered what kind of cargo the train must be carrying for someone to bother taking it over completely. He stood up and, looking out the window, saw they were passing through a vast, lush green pasture; he could see the mountains beyond the horizon. It would still take a while to reach the city. Probably by dawn, they would be at their destination.
— What could be on this train that interests you so much? Gold? — Khaled asked, slightly amused, trying not to show it on his impassive expression. He needed to face the situation with the necessary seriousness, but having a challenge after so many years locked away didn't seem bad to him. Even though he knew he could solve the problem in an instant, he wanted to understand the impetus of the group of bandits.
— No, probably weapons. Since the establishment of the Republic, there have been constant attempts to overthrow the regime and seize power. — Even if Liandre wasn't interested in political matters, it was impossible not to hear some comments about the Republic at the tavern tables, especially because many were curious about the next moves. The current ruler, Adreele Abraha'am, was going through internal problems, but those were only shallow speculations. What was known for certain was that her government was one of the most attacked; it hadn't even completed two years in power so far.
— That interests me. Let's help this train — Khaled had very promising ideas; he might even get to meet the regency.
Liandre grabbed his wrist before he could proceed.
— It's better not to get involved in this, right? — The mercenary had several reasons not to want to get involved with any of the Republic's problems. He preferred to get off the train as soon as they reached their destination. He seized the moment and tied up the thugs, taking from the mage's backpack a hemp rope and throwing their weapons out the window, leaving no chance of recovery. He turned to the mage, who didn't seem pleased with the decision not to intervene.
— We won't have a direct audience with the representative of the Republic of the country of Elderam. Just help to prevent them from getting the weapons — Khaled said with his usual soft and diplomatic voice; it seemed he did so with the goal of having his wishes fulfilled. Although he wanted to know why the other wasn't willing to help, he could ask later, when they were done with that little problem. — Listen. — He held his chin, caressing it gently.
The two bandits stared in disbelief, but they weren't in a position to argue, since they had been subdued so easily.
— We will help, I don't want to have to divert our path or stop our journey because of a few opponents. The faster we solve these small difficulties, the sooner we can get the next fragment. — Although the mage said those words with a certain sweetness, there was still a hidden tone of command in his softened voice.
Liandre preferred to leave everything as it was, but he felt great gratitude for Khaled. He couldn't simply go against those arguments; as much as the magic in the necklace protected him from the curse, he needed to help him and solve the problem, saving himself in the process. So, he decided to cooperate.
— Then let's do this — he decided, gripping his sword firmly.
When the mage removed his hand from his face, Liandre could feel that part tingling softly. It was hard to maintain his composure under his touch, especially after the kiss. The mage knew that Liandre had something very strong against the current politics, but he intended to bend him or even use that to his advantage.
As soon as they left the cabin, they saw two warriors wearing leather armor, holding sharp weapons. But Liandre was extremely skillful and quickly subdued them, disarming both in seconds and knocking them out. He used his own body, pressing the younger one against the wall while trapping his windpipe with his arm until he was out of breath and simply passed out. Before the other, who seemed to be in charge of the corridor, could escape, Liandre did the same, delivering a sharp blow to the back of his neck. The warrior collapsed onto the wooden floor. The fight lasted less than a minute.
Khaled knew the mercenary was strong, but he hadn't thought that, with his build, he would be able to move with such dexterity and mastery. Not that he was testing him, but he intended to see what that large, burly man was capable of. He had enchanted those who tried to intimidate them in the cabin, and so, he knew what they wanted: the cargo of gunpowder-powered weapons and the sacks of wheat, corn, and grains from the last wagons. The mage opened the front door before Liandre could use his body and smash the wood that led to the next carriage.
The mob was well organized, so Liandre knew he had his work cut out for him. He was still frustrated about having to move against the group of bandits. But he had to charge at five who were blocking the passage. Khaled, five steps behind, murmured arcane words, causing most of them to simply collapse to the floor, asleep. Two elves with elaborate weapons remained. The mercenary had no intention of killing anyone, so he attacked them using the pommel of his sword. He only received a clean cut on his cheek while trying to dodge one of the thugs. He moved the hand holding the sword upward, striking the elf's chin and then the pit of his stomach. He threw the elf's body against the wall lined with iron and wood, knocking the guy out. The woman, realizing she was no match, tried to run toward the sliding door ahead. Liandre didn't give her a chance: he grabbed her by the hood, pulling her to the ground. The impact was hard. The noise wasn't loud only because the train moving along the tracks made a deafening sound. So, even if she screamed, she wouldn't be heard. The mercenary knocked her out without waiting for her to say anything. The bodies scattered around were still breathing, with no life-threatening injuries.
The two moved forward in silence.
— Liandre? Are you upset? — Khaled asked in a sweet voice as they crossed to the next door. He could hear muffled sounds, but nothing he could really understand.
— No — Liandre said more curtly, not because he was truly angry, but because the situation demanded seriousness. He wasn't immortal like the mage; he still got hurt, so he needed to stay alert to the circumstances. Besides, he hated having to take part in the endeavor.
— I can handle this — Khaled said with his usual gentle tone, looking at the other room, which was a cargo carriage. There were a few bandits taking the cargo and placing it in more elaborate boxes, probably waiting for the train to stop so they could remove the precious material.
— Just stop the train — The mercenary didn't know if the elf could do that.
But suddenly, he heard the mage's voice chanting louder and more powerfully. Green energy started to fill the space.
— W-wait! — The taller man tried to stop him, but the train was already coming to an abrupt halt, throwing Liandre violently against the wall due to the sudden stop. For a few moments, he blacked out, feeling every part of his body aching. Khaled floated majestically in the middle of the carriage. He clumsily got up, feeling pain all over, until he finally picked up his sword again, hearing the sounds of confusion. He opened the side door of the room and stepped out. He noticed they were still in open terrain, which could make the job easier. That's when an arrow almost hit his shoulder. He saw that, above, there was a woman with a bow in her hands. He pulled out his dagger and threw it at her, hitting the wooden part of the weapon. The bow split in two, falling to the ground and leaving the archer disarmed.
He focused on the fight that followed. Several members of the militia got off the train; all the bandits had their faces partially covered by cloth masks. Khaled followed, still murmuring arcane words that made no sense to Liandre's ears. Almost everyone fell to the ground again; no one could resist Khaled's magic, unless they had special properties protecting them. Those who remained were likely the ones with such characteristics.
Liandre went ahead without waiting for them to react and leapt at the one who seemed the strongest, with better equipment and musculature. He struck the woman with a punch to the abdomen, then with an elbow to her face, without using his sword. But the warrior had no intention of going easy on him and plunged her dagger into Liandre's side. She twisted the blade inside the mercenary's body, who only let out a low groan. Used to pain, the wound didn't stop him from continuing. He hit her neck with his fist, knocking her down. After the fourth blow to her face, she passed out. The other three who remained fled through the tall grass field on the other side of the track.
Liandre touched the wound, pulled out the dagger, tossing it to the ground, and walked over to the weapons shipment. Most of the crates were broken. The train staff were beginning to come out of the cars — those who managed to stay conscious after the impact Khaled had caused. Some weapons were dismantled, and gunpowder was scattered on the ground.
— Let's go, there's nothing more to do here — Liandre said after making sure there were no more threats.
— Sure — Khaled replied, watching the mercenary start walking toward the open field; the grass didn't cover him due to his size.
The mage turned toward some soldiers who were approaching.
— We've taken care of the train problem. If you can, deliver my message to the higher authorities: That the tower mage is in favor of the Republic. — He could use that small incident later. Maybe he'd need political support for what was to come; being prepared was the best way not to return to his prison. The soldiers wanted some statements, but the unconscious men on the ground were enough.
The mage went toward his warrior, grabbing the backpack and looking for the healing potion. He was starting to think they might need a priest. He couldn't lose Liandre, not now, and it seemed quite mortal to fight physically against the dangers ahead. He didn't have to follow him for long; the mercenary was standing still, waiting for him. He extended the potion in his direction. Liandre, hesitant, took it and drank its contents, feeling the pain subside as if he were taking an effective medicine.
— Why do you hate the Republic so much? — Khaled asked, noticing how tense the other was; every part of his body seemed completely locked at that moment.
Liandre stopped suddenly. He thought he didn't need to relive his past. How many times had he told the old story in inns, while his body functioned on alcohol? Until two years ago, there hadn't been a day when he wasn't reeking of strong liquor. With every new defeat in his attempt to break the curse, he sank into rum, cheap wine, and lots of beer. Every day, he didn't need a reason to drink until he couldn't remember anything the next day. He had decided to stay sober after the disaster that had happened and got him expelled from his former guild, focusing on finally finding the solution before he completely lost his mind. He didn't want to talk about it after what had happened on the train, but he felt he owed it to the mage. He felt he could trust the elf; besides, his sweet voice was almost irresistible, making him remember the kiss they shared in the cabin.
They were near a cornfield, so Liandre just stared at the other, his breathing slightly irregular.
— My family was directly linked to the old monarchy. We had served the court for many years. My mother was the war general, and my father, the queen's advisor. So, we had been involved with the royal family for many generations. We acted against the revolts. At the time, I was only ten, so I didn't quite understand how things got to the point where I saw my parents dead in the capital's central square, serving as an example to the people and the other nobles, who backed down. All privileges were taken from me. My mother lived with the curse and, in recent years, had shown signs of mental disturbance. She was about to be removed from her position but didn't have that chance, because even with so much suffering, she was killed by the Republic. So... — Liandre didn't like old stories; he could still remember the sordid details, even though at the time his mind had been so childish.
Khaled's hand touched his shoulder gently, as if to comfort him.
— All your relatives perished? — The mage tried to use his kindest tone; he wanted to comfort the warrior.
— My sister remained. We went to an orphanage, but Linette was adopted. And me? All that was left was to join a mercenary guild when I was old enough. There I trained and made companions, but I lived with the pain... At least now, I have some relief. — He turned toward the elf, staring at his face. — That's why I don't want to get involved with politicians.
— And what if it's the only chance to remove the curse? — Faced with his companion's doubtful look, Khaled felt it necessary to explain: — Remember I told you about betrayal? My former companions did it. And they are formidable enemies. Back then, there were many who supported me, who believed in my existence and even saw me as a possible deity. And I don't believe they all simply forgot. If it's necessary not to be locked up in that tower again, it's likely that we'll need allies: a young government that needs help to consolidate itself but is willing to protect us and fight for our cause. Without that, we won't reach all the fragments.
— I don't know if I'm willing to have an audience with whoever is part of this government — Liandre let out a displeased grunt.
— I know you're not, and after hearing your story, it's understandable. But, Liandre, we need to think it's for a greater goal. As soon as we recover the first fragment, Gilgrim, Laurent, and Randyr will know where we are — he said more seriously, though keeping his hand on the mercenary's body.
— Hmm?! — Liandre thought he'd heard wrong. Those names? They were the immortal champions of Everym? He knew that Gilgrim and Randyr had disappeared a few decades ago, but Laurent's oasis remained in the desert, welcoming many thirsty travelers. — Our enemies are Everym's servants? Why didn't you tell me before? — Liandre ran his hand through his hair, gripping it lightly. This was on another level; those beings were considered untouchable for a reason: the great power they possessed!
— Yes. Apparently, I've been almost completely forgotten — Khaled was slightly frustrated by that fact. So, his former companions were still remembered and had become heroes. It seemed like a joke. — Gilgrim, Randyr, and Laurent are extremely skilled and, with Everym's power on their side, they managed to fragment my magic into seven parts and imprison me in that tower for all these years. They must have received immortality and other rewards just as good.
— Are you the villain? — Liandre hadn't considered that possibility. The cornfield wasn't the best place to discuss it, but now that they had started, they should clarify things. It would soon get dark and they needed to reach the city, but the mercenary knew they wouldn't have another chance to understand what they were dealing with. He only knew what the legends said.
— No, Liandre. That banner was placed upon me — Khaled removed his hand from the larger man, staring at the sky as the memories passed softly through his mind. — I always had great power and a thirst for knowledge; perhaps that frightened some. Soon I was obtaining the world. Arcanism went beyond any mundane knowledge. I learned magics that surpass any perspective, and my companions were always with me, though they had reservations about my conduct. We were a group of heroes, but I admit that my interest was to go beyond my capacities. I helped everyone who came to me, so people began to ask and be rewarded, to believe, and I noticed that the more those little humans, elves, dwarves, and other races thought of me, believed in my abilities, the more power I gained. Then, I reached the point of aspiring to become the eighth god of the current pantheon. But that stirred up resentment in Everym, who interfered in everyday life, using my companions, villainizing me.
Liandre was breathless at the story. However, what surprised him most was realizing that the elf lost his composure while recounting events from the past; that scale of power was greater than he could imagine. How could he believe that great heroes with unquestionable feats were wrong, while a mage who had been banished was right? But he felt he should trust Khaled's words.
— Liandre — the mage held his hand, entwining their fingers until they were holding hands in an extremely intimate way. This caused confusion in the mercenary, who seemed to stop breathing again. — I trust you, that's why I told you what happened. I know I haven't said everything yet, but I need you to trust me. Whether we get involved with the Republic or not, it will be with the goal of ending the curse and recovering my powers. If one day Gilgrim, Randyr, and Laurent come against me, I need to know that you'll be by my side.
He couldn't keep his mind focused. Khaled's yellow eyes made it hard to maintain coherent thoughts about the matter. He deeply hated the current politics, but if necessary, he could use those who made him suffer in favor of the cause and his objectives. Besides, Khaled was being good to him, willing to go to the ultimate consequences and fulfill the agreement. Why doubt his words? He had revealed his past after just a few days of travel. So, Liandre just nodded.
— Alright, I trust you — he said hoarsely, trying not to sound too resigned.
But Khaled broke any distance they had, embracing the mercenary's large body. The bond helped cloud his mind, making him believe the words. He wasn't lying, but he needed the big guy to be fully convinced. He looked up at the mercenary's face, kissing his mouth without waiting for an exchange of glances. The path of persuasion involved seduction, but honestly, he wasn't finding it bad to dominate Liandre's mouth at that moment. He felt good while pursuing his sordid objectives and still making the other believe they were helping each other.