There were people flowing past them.  Some with nary but a few items in their arms, or tossed over their backs, were running.  Others pulled and pushed carts laden with greater provisions or children.  Through the press of people, Quartes strode forward.  The landian was like a ship cutting through the waves, the crowds parting around him.  The Hilt Shard of Lehn was in his hand, his usually pale eyes glowing an emerald green.  Keto followed in his wake and had no doubt that the glow of his eyes was doing most of the work from deterring anyone from staying in his path.

“What do you think it is?” she had asked the landian when they had seen the first few panicked villagers.  Quartes hadn’t answered, his steps just quickening.  “Should we ask one of them?” Keto had further pushed.

“It’ll only slow us getting there,” Quartes had answered.  “There’s few enough things that can cause such concern.”

Keto figured he was correct as the flow of those fleeing had increased.  It hadn’t stopped her from listening in to what the people were saying.  She heard their words “monster,” “beasts,” “Dragon”.  Quartes had clearly heard them as well, and he had lowered his shoulders and started into a jog.  As she moved to keep up though Keto heard other words, “Last Landian,” “legend,” “saved”.  The sounds of battle overcame the whispered din as they pushed forward.  Either some adventurers or a few guards must’ve been giving fight.  The continued flow of the villagers gave little hope to the success of the defenders.

As the village came into sight, as the last of the fleeing villagers gave way, Cheriss and Ras withdrew from their scabbards and hung at the landian’s shoulders.  The village had an open square on the near end, some carved stone marking its center.  Keto didn’t get much of a view of it before one of the defenders was slammed into it.  Stone cracked, the carving tumbling over.  In the wake of the fallen defender, like rats searching through refuse, were the kercs.  They chittered and hissed, rabid in the wake of the blood in the air.  One was lunging for another defender, the man clutching as a wounded side.  Ras darted in a flash, piercing the kerc and pinning it to the ground.

Then there was the crack of thunder, the flash of lightning coming before it as it split another kerc and left nothing but a stain of viscera.  In the aftermath of that strike, there was silence.  Keto shifted steps to the side, to better see the landian and what was to come.  In the far corner of her vision she saw that some of the villagers had stopped and followed them, were watching now as she did.

The kercs had scurried back, some cowering in fear as they clawed at the air between them and Quartes, others disappearing through doorways or into the ruins of a home.  Beyond though came growls, low noises that bounced with Keto’s chest and called for dread.  A pair of hagercs stepped out from the broken structures of the village and into open field of the square.

To Keto’s eyes them seemed like they must be related.  Haggard strips of coarse hair fought with scales all along their limbs and torsos.  Any one of those limbs was thicker than she was wide, and their torsos dwarfed her further.  They towered over her and Quartes, glowing red eyes staring down small stunted noses.  It seemed impossible for the massive horns to be held up but such small heads but there they were.  The horns of one were largely extended straight out to the side, curling back only at their tips.  The other’s curled outwards forming twin hardened knobs.  

Keto was thankful so many people had gotten away from the twin beasts, but she reminded herself that she had no proof that they had seen everyone.  She looked behind her, at the crowd that had returned in their way.  ‘Too many people like a show,’ she thought.  ‘Then again, his timing does always seem to be impeccable,’ she added.  Keto started when one of the hagercs gave a roar, the other slamming the splintered club it held repeatedly into the ground.  Both beasts then barreled forward, heads lowered as they leveled their horns as Quartes.

The landian sprung forward, directing himself towards the straight horned hagerc.  A flash from the Hilt-Shard brought a bolt down on the other, sending that creature flying backwards.  Hefting Keid out before him, Quartes and the shield met the charge of the other.  Keto wondered at just how strong Keid must’ve been in life as the shield helped Quartes to bring the hagerc to a halt, though not without giving up a few steps.  Cheriss and Keid darted in then, hacking and slashing at the hagerc’s hardened hide.  They broke off though as the gathering crowd gave collected screams.  The kercs had emerged from their retreat, swarming back into the clearing and meeting the twin blades as the swords sought stemmed their tide.

Quartes released the shield, Keid pushing up in an arch that the landian ducked under.  Old sword leading, and with the shield covering him from above, Quartes thrust the sword forwarded repeatedly.  The sure strikes of the blade sent its tip through fur and scales.  The hagerc was stumbling back, which was when Keto realized the other had regained its footing.

“Quartes!” she called as the second hagerc swiped as the smoldering crater of burnt hair and charred scales on its chest and leveled its glowing gaze upon the gathered villagers.  Quartes’ emerald eyes turned to her, the landian twisting back for a moment as it passed from her to the other hagerc and then back to his current foe.

With a deft strike, Quartes buried the Hilt-Shard in the chest of the first hagerc.  Muffled thunder echoed about the ruins of the village, the red eyes of the dragonkin flashing blue before they turned to blackened orbs.  Smoke escaped the creature’s mouth as it collapsed to the ground, Quartes removing the broken blade as he sprung back towards the second beast.  It had tracked his approach, swinging its wooden beam out horizontally.  Quartes slid under this strike, still closing and only halting his advance as he kicked off to the side, the beam slamming down to where he had been.  With a flash the old sword cut upwards, a stream of dark blood trailing the sword as the hagerc’s hand was severed as the wrist.

The hagerc roared, the sound tinged with fury and pain, as it stepped forward and slammed its remaining fist into the landian.  Quartes was knocked back but as the hagerc lowered its horn head to press it attack a clang rang out.  Keid had slammed into the hagerc’s skull, the beast stumbling as Quartes rolled back to his foot.  Before the hagerc could reclaim its own footing, Quartes closed and cut out with his sword once more.  Foot was separated from ankle this time.  Unsupported, its roar turning more to pain, the hagerc fell to its knees.  It’s red eyes even now with his, Quartes waited a beat before he plunged the Hilt-Shard into the hagerc’s maw.  The discharge scattered the dragonkin’s skull and sent the overlarge horns falling to the ground

There was then silence, Quartes reaching out to retrieve Keid and look out over the ruined clearing.  Ras and Cheriss were returning, a smattering of kercs dead by their edges.  With the realization that the dragonkin were slain, the sound begin.

It was claps at first, spreading out from some unknown originator.  Cheers rose to join it, shouts punctuating like their own snaps of thunder.  Quartes turned back to the crowd then, those glowing eyes looking back at them.  Keto was listening for it, she heard the hiccup of a stall, a brief din the celebration in reaction to those fey eyes but the enthusiasm as being alive carried the cheers past it.

‘Just in time makes the hero’s moment,’ Keto observed to herself.  What she saw still though was the space, the gap still between the villagers and the landian.  With a smile of her own, Keto looked about and saw a flower.  It was really just some weed growing at the edge of the field but she bent down and picked it.  Flower in hand, she strode into that space that separated Quartes from the crowd.  His gaze had locked onto her now, his head tilting in question, but Keto simply held the flower out to him.

He faltered for a moment, his hands full with his armaments.  “What are you…” he started but then he stopped himself, in deaf movements his blades were cleaned and returned to his belt.  He took the wildflower in a scarred hand.

“Wait and see,” Keto answered, her words falling beneath the sound of the crowd, an exchange just for her and him.  She had kept her face all smiles and as she stepped back she found her reward.  A child had run up, some young lad that sputtered to a stop a step before landian.  Keto saw the conflict of the crowd play out in minature, the dawning realization of how close he was to a legend, and then the excitement won out once more.  The child darted forward, throwing his hands around Quartes’ hip in a hug.  The cheers grew louder.  Quartes, his eyes fading back to pale green, patted the boy on the head and that was all it took.

The crowd closed in, the space between them and Quartes broken.  Woman came forward to bow, some to throw arms around his shoulders, stoic husbands traded firm handshakes or crushing hugs, children rushed forward to lay a hand on Keid’s carved front or reached up for where Ras and Cheriss floated.  Keto had stepped back, smile growing as she watched. Quartes stayed where he was, a fixed point as the flow of villagers they had passed through before the fight returned and seemingly each of them approached to thank him.

The day turned, the bodies of the hagercs and kercs were carried away and burned.  The bodies of those slain in the attack were buried.  Quartes helped with both.  With those deeds done, the fallen stone carving was braced back upright and that seemed to be the sign for the celebration to begin.  An innkeeper and homebrewers rolled out kegs and bottles, bonfires were lit, and Keto found herself happily singing and playing before an audience.  She kept an eye on Quartes and was impressed to see that he hadn’t withdrawn into the hood of his cloak, he wasn’t even wearing his cloak.  Only the old sword and the Hilt Shard were fixed to his belt.  He’d left his bracers on but had at some point change into a shirt not marred by the day.

When some local musicians took over, Keto grabbed a couple of tankards of wine and made her way to join him.  She paused as a group of children rushed past, chasing after the floating Cheriss as the blade trailed a tail or ribbon.  Reaching Quartes, Keto hovered a few steps away.  An older villager was relaying a story of how he had seen the landian once before.  Quartes had looked at the man, his eyes growing distant as he searched through memories, and then responded, “You had blond hair, had peaked at me from behind a fence, when I was passing through.”

The elder laughed, “Some memory, town was a buzz with word of seeing you, it redoubled when word came back a few weeks later that you’d slain some beast outside Floren.”

“A large wolf-beast was eating their herds,” Quartes answered, Keto storing that story away to be explored another time.  Quartes’ eyes returned to the elder, added after a beat “It’s good to talk to you this time.”

That brought a laugh from the elder again as a wrinkled hand patted Quartes’ shoulder.  “It’s good that you’re here.”  The man noticed Keto then, and gave Quartes’ shoulder another pat before he turned to leave.  He offered a “Miss,” as he passed her.

Keto stepped forward, extending one of the tankard to Quartes, “I doubt your voice is used to doing this much talking.”

Quartes stared after the departing man for a moment before his gaze shifted to Keto, taking the mug from her outstretched hand.  “You’ve given me some practice.”  His answer was light but his brow remained furrowed.

“Are you bothered being here?  Does talking to them pain you?”

“No,” Quartes answered, the word emphatic.  “No…I…” he sought for words, that pale gaze scanning back over the celebrating crowd.  “They should hate me, if I had succeeded in my time there would be no dragonkin, if I was living up to the legend there would be safer lands, and in time the Cycle will turn and end it all again.”

“Ah,” Keto commented and took a sip from her tankard.  She classified this as a landian problem.  “I think you’re too caught up in that memory of yours.  The past is barely a story and that future…well not one of us besides you will be there to see it.  What matters most is what you did today, you arrived when they needed you.”  Keto gestured to the merry crowd, “Not only that but they all know a story of you saving some other town or some ancestor of theirs.”  She turned back to Quartes, waited until that pupil-less gaze of his met hers, “You may be as mysterious to them as a fey but they know when things are at their worst you’re their best hope.  You may have missed it in the fight Quartes but they didn’t run from you, they turned from their running and they followed you.”

 She watched him, knew the stoic mask he was wearing was a sign of him thinking through what she had said.  Silently, his gaze turned to the celebrating crowd that he had protected and when Keto saw the hint of a smile spread across his lips she gave into her own.

“Thank you,” he added, shifting to lightly bump his shoulder against hers.

“Of course,” Keto responded taking before a sip of her wine, “now get ready because I plan on getting drunk tonight.”