Rollen stormed out of the tavern, nearly hauling the door off its hinges.

A cool breeze lashed at Rollen's cheeks as he marched into the street. The area was bare of people, save the odd drunk or two and street wenches hovering near various alehouses and inns, ready to seduce men to beds for pay. Rollen spared them no glance at their pathetic attempts and made his way past the town to the nearby cluster of trees.

The wind clawed at his coat with its cold airy fingers, whistling over his head. Once he was well within the wood, he tugged off the fabric with enough force to rip it at the seams. Casting it aside he reached for the scabbard at his side. The sword sang as he relieved it from its hold. He tightened his grip on the hilt.

Focusing all his fury into his weapon, he struck a nearby tree. The blade was a flash in the midnight moon, slicing the trunk cleanly off. The tree groaned as it fell to the ground, causing a dulled commotion on the earthy ground. The action should have required much effort in normal circumstances, but with the right blade and enough muscle backed up with the proper amount of rage, it was as simple as shearing a leaf from its branch.

Rollen turned to another tree, this time thrusting straight into its stem. The sword slid into it before protruding at the opposite end. Rollen withdrew it smoothly.These pine trees are weak. Glancing around him he finally spotted a large oak that dominated a dark section of the scattered forest. He charged at it, blade at the ready. He lashed out, leaving an open gash on the thick trunk. He propelled his blade again and again and again till he was panting for breath. His dark hair was glued to his forehead, tickling his eyes. He swiped the lock away before he proceeded in his angry haze, filling the empty wood with the sound of his blade on rock-like bark. Clack!

How had he not felt it? Clack! How had Colsen kept his secret hidden from him, from everyone in the Tower? His lips twisted to a snarl. An Arcane. He had been helped by an Arcane! Clack! Been aided in his escape from death by one of the demon-spawned species! Clack! And to think he had felt sorry for the damned bastard! Clack! Colsen deserved every soul-crushing burden fate intended for him. He deserved to die! Clack! Clack! Clack!

His ragged breath formed white puffs before him. Rollen stopped to stare at the victimized oak. The tree was marred with old age, bark peeling away as it battled against the natural elements. Fresh long slashes lined its decaying trunk. Nevertheless it stood tall and proud, almost imposingly. 

This wasn't helping. He needed to release all his pent-up energy. He needed to fight!

As if called upon by Rollen's realization, Colsen emerged onto the small clearing and trod toward Rollen. Upon sighting him, Rollen bared his teeth, eyes flashing menacingly.

Colsen met his fiery gaze head-on. "I see you're not taking this well," he noted, leaning against a nearby tree. His relaxed nonchalance twisted another angry knot in Rollen's stomach.

"Leave me alone." Rollen's voice was a deep rumble, hardly concealing the fury held on a withering leash. His knuckles whitened at the pressure he exerted onto the hilt. His control was slipping with each passing second. He tried to douse the flames roaring within him by taking a long breath.

Colsen observed him. "You are so full of anger and spite, Rollen. The negative energies within you are toxic. They can kill you from the inside. You need to release them." He slid his double swords from his waist, handling them with practiced ease. "Fight me."

Rollen made a growling sound that rumbled in his throat. "I swear to the Spirits if you don't leave- "

"I won't leave," Colsen interrupted. "Not until you attack me. Not until you get rid of your rage." He positioned himself into a defensive stance, both swords flashing in the pools of moonlight penetrating the forest. "Come on. You know you want to."

Rollen's blade swung out, seemingly of its own accord. Colsen's double swords blocked him, forming an X between the two men. The force of the collision made Colsen move back a few inches. The ground shifted beneath his feet as he fought to maintain his stance.

 Rollen ground out, "I'm warning you. Leave this alone!"

The blades slid apart, letting loose bright sparks in the air, hissing as the two men moved apart. 

"I know the anger you bear!" Colsen called out. He moved over a gnarled root while maintaining eye contact with Rollen. "I know why you hate the Arcane. I know what they did to you, Rollen. I know everything."

"Shut up!" Rollen charged at him, thrusting towards his stomach. Colsen blocked the attack with his right blade, forcing Rollen's sword to point at the ground before spinning away. Rollen didn't falter, quickly regaining his footing.

"They destroyed your family!"Colsen proceeded, slowly circling around Rollen like a vulture eyeing its prey. "Laid them to their deaths without a second thought!"

"I said shut up you hell-spawned bastard!" Rollen ran at him, bombarding Colsen with lightning-speed blows. Colsen warded them off seemingly with ease, though the tension kneaded in his shoulders acclaimed to his effort at keeping Rollen's sword at bay. He managed to scramble away from Rollen, but not before attaining a wound at his left shoulder. He winced at the shock and pain of the slash. Nevertheless, he didn't let it slow him down.

"Do you know how I know of your past? I've looked into your mind. I've seen your life, Rollen. It's just there for me to delve into. As simple as diving into a river."

A roar of rage erupted from Rollen's throat as he lunged at him. Colsen barely kept the attack from opening his gut for his intestines to tumble out.

"I'm an Arcane, Rollen." Colsen was panting, sweat streaking down his face. He extended both arms outwardly like a sinner accepting his deathly fate. "And I have the power to do as I please."

The words fanned the incandescent flames roaring in him. Rollen unleashed his blazing fury. He lunged at the man, forgetting that he was his friend. He dove and swung, moving as fluidly as an eel and just as dangerous. Colsen backed up while blocking the speedy attacks, both his swords moving quickly to evade bloodshed. But he was not fast enough. Not even close.

Rollen's blade arched faster than Colsen could blink, let alone parry. A cut opened along his left cheek, nearly jabbing his eyeball. He gasped, eyes widening. Blood trickled down to his neck. The unexpected bloom of pain was the opening Rollen needed. The one millisecond of hesitation was all it took.

Rollen slashed across Colsen's left thigh. The man dropped to his knees before he knew what had happened. A forceful kick to his chest sent Colsen to the ground, dirt splaying around his frame. Rollen hovered over him, blade wedged against Colsen's throat.

Colsen coughed, making the tip dig into his skin just enough to draw blood. The series of huffs slowly morphed into high-pitched laughter. "I see why people fear you in combat, Rollen," Colsen managed. "You don't disappoint."

Rollen blinked. Time seemed to slow as he fought through the rage. He gritted his teeth at the effort. The red haze fogging Rollen's mind gradually dispersed as he took in heavy breaths. He felt himself relax, anger a drifting presence in his mind. The tension bled from his body as he stared at his friend's form, which was shaking with evident delight.

Rollen finally stretched his hand to the man on the ground. Colsen took it with a smile before he was hauled to his feet. Colsen started to pat himself clean before wincing at the wound on his arm.

"I'm sorry about that," Rollen apologized, nodding at his wound. "I'm sorry for attacking you like I did."

Colsen let out a blissful chuckle. "Don't be! I wanted you to fight me."

Rollen blinked. "Why?"

Colsen began walking, limping as he did. Rollen followed in suit. "You were just so angry," Colsen began. He carefully moved over a twisted root, clutching his leg as he did. "Your rage was eating you from the inside. One of the ways of relieving yourself of it is through physical exertion. Combat."

Rollen held him back, clasping his shoulder with a look of incredulity. "I almost killed you!"

Colsen smiled. "Yes, I suppose you did." His eyes glittered. "But that's what made it so damn amazing!" He laughed again, only to be interrupted by a flurry of coughs. He groaned, a hand on his chest. "Spirits! I think you broke my ribs."

Rollen managed a grin. "Stop being so melodramatic. If I wanted to break your ribs you never would have gotten up."

Colsen winced as he poked his ribcage. "Remind me never to fight with you again," he muttered.

Rollen flashed him a smile as they approached the end of the wood. "I'll make no promises."

Colsen murmured under his breath. It was too low for Rollen to make out the words, but he laughed nonetheless.

The cool wind swept over them, playing with Rollen's hair. He smiled. He'd always loved the crisp air at the beginning of artrus, the autumnal season.

Of the three seasons, it was his favorite. The sun thawed the snow and ice of vindil, the season that made the world a wintry ice-land, but the wind was still heavy with a comforting chill that cleared Rollen's mind. The clashing combination was relaxing; it didn't have the uncomfortable heat of sarnos, a season filled with overbearing warmth with the occasional rain-shower. Sarnos brought the perfect climate for sowing and reaping before vindil swept in with its freezing grasp. To have a perfect blend of the two intense seasons was a clear gift from the Spirits.

He inhaled the clear air, feeling it cleanse his body and soul. The last of his rage diminished with his exhaling breath. 

***

Rollen finished tying the laces of his boots before getting off the low bed. Golden light poured through the drawn curtains, coloring the room in a bright orange hue. He went over to the window. Below he saw people moving to and fro in every direction, each one sifting through any available crack in the crowd to go their own way. Despite the early hour, most shops had already opened; bakeries exuded the crisp fragrance of freshly-baked bread, the merchants displayed their wares to passers-by, fruit vendors already making money from customers.

Rollen looked past the town. A grey mist had settled over the land ahead. In the distance, vaguest hints of the Frosted Crust were visible, the long range of mountains that divided the Norlain territory and the hostile land of Trevane. The sun was rising over the land, the light piercing Rollen's eyes.

Blinking away the white spots from his vision, he turned away to his shared room. Colsen was still fast asleep, hair sticking out in all directions. His left arm was draped over his eyes while the other hung at the edge of the bed, nearly touching the floorboards. Rollen left him to his slumber; after all the hours of vigilance, rest was what he needed most. Padding silently over the floor, he left the room and nearly bumped into a woman.

He was about to apologize when he saw the woman's face. Avira, the Arcane from last night. They had managed to get her a room. Luckily, one of the renters had gotten so drunk he blacked out just outside the tavern, allowing her to sleep in his stead. But it didn't seem as though she had experienced a peaceful night.

She had a pale face, a stark contrast to his own tanned skin. Dark bags hung around her eyes, shadows haunting the green irises. Her face was tight with exhaustion and strain, as though she had been up all night.

"Excuse me," she muttered before sliding past his frame.

So many contemptuous thoughts against her kind rose to the surface but he pushed them aside, picking a more polite response. "I apologize. It was my fault."

She kept walking as though she hadn't heard him. He tried again. "Did you sleep well?"

The magic-wielder paused. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, a relaxed air coming over him easily. "You don't look well-rested."

She turned her head to meet his gaze. "You shouldn't tread into unbidden waters, Rollen." With that she made her way down the stairs, footsteps gradually receding.

He stared at the space where she had stood. The woman was hard to read, which was saying something. His time in the training camps gave him the useful ability to perceive other people, both their personalities and their motives. He had prided himself on his nearly-perfect skills. But Avira was different. She had obviously had a rough time over the past few days—that much was evident enough—but that was all he could discern from her.

He shook his head. It didn't matter for now. Due to yesterday's agreement, they were stuck with her for the rest of the journey. That was plenty of time to disect her. And store whatever he would gather for future use. Depending on how this all played out.

Rollen had cooled down from yesternight's rage enough to push away thoughts of Arcane and clamber straight to bed. Colsen had been right; all he had needed was to project his inner emotions physically and it had worked. Exhaustion had overcome him as soon as he stepped foot into their room, dragging him under. But his earlier ignored thoughts were brought to life in his dreams. Memories of his family haunted him, making him awaken in a cold sweat a few hours later. Dawn was yet to come but he stayed awake in his bed.

The dream had worked; he had known it was wrong to ally himself with two magic-wielders and his memories were quick to remind him that. He of all people knew what the Arcane were capable of. His family had been destroyed by the hands of the cursed breed of people. The last thing he should do was work with them. It didn't matter if Colsen and Avira hadn't actually done the deed. They all had the same roots, many leaves clinging to the same tree.

But as he had sat on his bed, sunrise fast approaching, Rollen had thought past his anger-clouded musings and slipped into his cool deceptive mind. Though he needed to find the thief, he had no means to do so. That was the problem. On the other hand, Avira was a map which Colsen alone could read. That fact was the closest to a solution he could get, which forced Rollen to tag along with them. He only needed their power to achieve his ends, then he would sever all ties with them as fast as possible. He wouldn't be able to stomach working with Arcane any longer than he needed to.

Rollen descended the steps to the inn. The place cleaned up well. The tables were bare of ale stains and food remains. The counter shone as well, wiped to perfection. The pretty barmaid from last night was there, placing mugs into the cabinet. He approached her, a smile etched on his face.

"Good morning, sunshine."

The woman spun to face him, a grin quickly dominating her smooth features. "Why, hello again stranger." She glanced past him. "Where's your other friend?"

"What?" His voice was indignant, a playful glint in his eyes. "Aren't I enough for you?"

She tossed back her head and laughed, a pleasant cheery sound like the tinkle of a bell that made his smile widen. "Aren't you a charmer." She shook her head, eyes bright. "Don't you worry your cute little ego, stranger. You provide enough company."

"Yes, I do. Especially with such beautiful women." Rollen winked.

She chuckled. "Tell me what you'd like before I get in trouble with my overseer."

"Karlasian tea with bread and fried eggs."

She nodded. "Will be right back." She strutted through a door behind the counter, disappearing behind it.

Rollen smiled to himself. The barmaid was more than a pretty face; he could see the clever mind and strength of will in her. She probably hailed from a troubled home, which only made her stronger over the years. He held a silent respect for her. 

He turned to see Avira seated by the wall, near a corner. She was staring at the table, lost in her own world. Something about her demeanor made him reluctant to break her icy bubble of solitude, but Rollen shrugged it off.

The chair scraped against the floorboard as he took the seat across from her. The sound snapped her back to reality, her eyes fixed on her. It looked like she was trying to remember where she was before she regained her composure. Her face was immediately wiped of emotion. "I hope you realized there are other tables vacant around you."

He shone her his warmest smile. "I did but I saw you here. Why would I sit alone when I could have your welcoming presence by my side?"

Before she could respond to him, Colsen dropped beside her. Rollen stared at his cheek, the angry slash capturing his attention. Rollen felt a twinge of guilt coil around his throat. "You should be asleep." The hint of concern in Rollen's own voice surprised him.

Colsen waved him off. "I'm fine, Rollen. Don't worry about it." He turned to Avira, smiling. "How was your night?"

Avira raised a brow at his red laceration before shooting Rollen a look he couldn't decipher. Whatever she thought about Colsen's fresh wound, she didn't reveal it. "What time are we leaving?"

Colsen didn't seem ruffled by the abrupt change of subject. "After breakfast. Then we will buy a few supplies in the market before departing."

She shook her head, shifting her hood. He noted that she never took her cloak off, nor her hood. Though he agreed the chill of artrus could make others cold, something told him it wasn't the only reason behind the attire. "You two go. I'll stay here until you come back."

"Why?" Rollen asked.

She shot him another look. You shouldn't tread into unbidden waters, Rollen. "I don't feel comfortable in large masses of people," she supplied after a pause.

Rollen just stared at her. The hooded girl was wrapped in mystery, an air of enigma roiling around her self. The urge to unravel her secrets spurned quickly within him, making his finger twitch. Before Rollen could burst out another inquiry, Colsen interrupted him. "It's alright. We will have to come back either way for the horses." His expression turned thoughtful. "We might need an extra horse for you."

Rollen watched him closely. "And how do we do that?"

Colsen sighed. "I'll have to persuade someone to give me theirs."

Persuade someone. The words hung heavy in the air. It didn't take long for the implication to sink in. He's going to use his power of telepathy to steal a horse. Rollen clamped down on a surge of angry retorts. "Right. We'll have to leave before noon."

The pretty barmaid walked over to them, a plate of food in her hand and a mug in another. The steaming tea gave off a fragrant scent. She winked at him as she backed away.

"Yes," Colsen agreed. "But for now, we should sate our hunger. Avira, what would you like to eat?"

Hey guys! Thanks for reading this chapter. If you liked it, please don't forget to vote. Drop a comment or two if you like. They light up my day :)

So Rollen has finally accepted that he's working with the "demon-spawned race". Do you think he'll manage to cope with them?