The Pauper Princess

This information was startling. If Calin was to be believed, Ekohl was nigh invincible, and yet somehow he’d sustained a bone-deep wound on his arm. No one had witnessed the actual moment of injury, and Ekohl himself refused to speak of it. The question that remained, though, was why Ekohl wished the entire ordeal to remain a secret.

I left Mehta to her reading and decided to walk through the town. A light rain began to fall as I stepped over the inn’s threshold. From what I’ve experienced of Lequin so far, I’ve concluded that the weather is generally gloomy and bleak. I continue meandering regardless of the rain, lost in my own thoughts, until I come to a knoll that overlooks the entire town. Trudging up it, I can see the inn, all the small homes, and, far off in each direction, the fields that stretch out to meet the forest to the north and the horizon in the east and west. The main road lazily weaves across the land, from the Wall, through the town, and out to meet the distant hills in the south.

At the crest of this hill sits a massive willow, its branches swaying lightly in a sad little dance. I enter the shelter of the ancient tree and allow my thoughts to continue wandering even as my body rests. Preoccupied as I have been, I didn’t realize anyone had followed me out of town until I see Ekohl walk up the knoll after me.

“Mehta sent me to follow you,” he explained, sitting beside me against the trunk of the willow.

“She’s always worrying,” I sighed. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

“Usually with good reason.” I glared at him unconvincingly, then pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them.

“How did you hurt your arm?” I suddenly asked. Ekohl seemed startled at the sudden change of topic. For a minute, his eyes wandered over the landscape, and I began to worry that he would just brush me off again.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asked finally.

“Because… you’re acting strange. You’re too quiet, too serious. You’re not acting like yourself.” He didn’t respond. He just kept his gaze focused over the town. Frustrated, I got up and sat directly in front of him, forcing him to look at me.

“Ekohl,” I began, “I want to know what happened.” I looked down at Ekohl’s left arm, resting on his knee mere inches from me. I slowly reached out and took his hand. Part of the wound was showing below his sleeve. I rubbed my thumb over it, and he flinched. I immediately dropped his arm.

With a sigh, Ekohl tugged up the rest of his sleeve to expose a jagged scar extending almost the whole length of his forearm. I looked for permission, and at his nod, I took his arm again. I traced the length of the scar lightly, feeling the uneven skin.

“Ekohl…” I looked at his face again, but he was now looking toward the Wall again.

“It was an axe,” he said mechanically. He looked down at his arm, which I was still loosely holding at the wrist, and slowly traced the edges of the scar.

“What were you thinking, Ekohl. Running into that fog alone was just-“

“Stupid,” he interrupted. “I wasn’t thinking, I was reacting.” We sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us watching the rain. “I killed a man,” he said suddenly. I squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him, but he pulled free and stood, walking a few steps outside of the willow’s shelter. I got up and stood behind him for a minute, then moved out into the rain as well.

“I don’t understand,” I said finally. “You’re a soldier, Ekohl. Death is part of a soldier’s job, isn’t it?”

“It wasn’t just some soldier I killed, Siya,” he said quietly. “It was someone’s father.” He lifted a hand to his head and ran his fingers through his drenched hair. “The kid, he was standing right there when it happened.”

“What?” I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me. Ekohl nodded solemnly.

“I didn’t even see him at first, but he started yelling. He ran over and swung at me with an axe. I didn’t move in time, and he hit my arm.” Ekohl absently rubbed his left arm as if feeling the blow again. “The boy kept screaming for his father. He kneeled over the man I just killed, and I realized that was his father. He tried to dress the wounds, but it was a clean cut to… well, it was too late.”

I placed my hand on Ekohl’s arm, drawing his attention. I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. I felt his muscles tense, but after a moment, he returned the hug and rested his chin on my shoulder. “It’s not your fault Ekohl,” I said, shaking my head fervently.

Ekohl stepped back, his hands on my shoulders. He looked like he was searching for something. “Whose fault is it then, Siya?” he said softly. “I took that man's life, his death is on me. It’s my fault that boy has to grow up without a father. What cause had I to take that man’s life?” Ekohl turned and took a few steps back toward the willow.

“To defend and protect.” Ekohl paused midstride and turned back to face me. “My blade I swear, my life I forfeit.” I took the few steps to Ekohl and reached for the hilt of his sword. “I dedicate myself wholly to Kyshia…”

“To defend and protect her people from any threat,” he finished.

“Were you not defending your people, Ekohl?” I pulled the weapon free and held it in both hands at my waist. Along the blade is etched the rest of the vow we just recited. “Have you ever taken a life without reason?” I asked, fingering the words on the blade. “You became a soldier to protect Kyshia, didn’t you? Do you now wish to undo your oath?” I met his gaze and held the hilt out to him. With a determined look Ekohl reached out and grasped his sword.

“Never.”