Creed

The sun will always come again, sure, but she never expected it would come twice in one day.

Brynn watched the fires start from the top of the hill overlooking the tiny village. The house lit quickly, with a fluidity that was vaguely mesmerizing. The flames licked at the dry straw thatch of roofs, slowly catching the wooden walls. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, casting shadows that were quickly eaten away by the light of the fire.

The soldiers below her moved with purpose, dragging unarmed residents from their homes and setting alight the dry roofing. She could hear the sorrowful crying and screaming from the women, men shouting as they tried to fight back with their bare hands. Brynn crossed her arms over her chest, as if that meager barrier could keep the horrible scene at bay. A breeze played with her snow white hair, bringing with it the warm smell of smoke and the metallic smell of blood.

She had never wanted this, but they were her orders.

General Nikolas Askeridis claimed these people were working with their enemy, supplying trade caravans with supplies to be smuggled to the camps up in the mountains. Brynn shook her head. Her walk through the village had not validated those claims. All she had seen were shacks and starving families. If they were supplying Akorian camps with food, then they were foolish not to keep any for themselves.

Another building lit. Soft footsteps approached her as she watched more women and children dragged from their homes, the soldiers laughing at their terror. She turned her head to see a lean, cloaked form materialize out of the forest at her back. He pulled back his hood, revealing the sad blue eyes she had expected. His face was calm and smooth as always, never betraying the emotions she knew he felt deeply. He stopped even with her, looking down at the chaos below them.

"This isn't right," Mikael said.

Brynn stayed silent for a moment. There wasn't really anything she could say, she knew. It was not right. These people did not deserve the horror she was putting them through.

But they were Orders.

Emotions only interfere with duty.

"We just need to get it done."

"Let's at least pull out the soldiers. They've done their job, the village is secure. Burning it down will do nothing for the Empire."

"And disobeying Orders will do nothing to help them. You know as well as I, that failure will just mean a Mark of Treason for us and new set of soldiers will finish the Mission." Her voice was harder than she had intended, but she had worked too hard for this future to throw it away on something as... stupid as compassion. Her guilt would just have to be pushed aside.

Mikael cleared his throat. "Cailean and Pyralis have searched the west half of the village," Her brother said, his voice as smooth and quiet as his footsteps, "They found nothing."

Brynn nodded wearily, "Have them finish searching, before there's nothing left to search."

Mikael nodded once, "I've also sent Gregory to patrol the mountain road, just in case."

Brynn dropped her arms to her side, shifting the sword at her hip to a more natural position. She took a deep breath, and then her golden wolf-like eyes found his. Many people would have flinched away at that, claiming her eyes were unnatural and unnerving. Not her brother. To him, it was just another oddity that added to who she was: a pack leader, like the wolf she reminded him of.

"Good. Finish up here. I want to be marching by midnight."

Brynn turned and headed down the hill toward the line of prisoners she needed to question. Looking back over her shoulder, the light of the blazing village peeked over the grassy knoll as the sun would at the dawn.

~...~

By the time they reached the tall stone walls of the main Hall, it was mid-afternoon. The sun was high, casting shadows across the cobbled roadways. Brynn was exhausted. Even with the short five hour march to Prydus, her reports took longer that she would have liked. In fact, they still were not finished. The company of soldiers had disbanded upon entering the city, their Captain probably off to write his own report for Askeridis about her involvement. Her own men had returned to the Compound, to take care of their gear and find food.

Hours later than she would have liked, Brynn pushed open the heavy door of the Hall. The entryway was quiet, as always. She greeted the feeling of soft wood floors as she made her way into the common room. Oddly, it was also empty, but she welcomed the silence as she sank into the nearest chair. Brynn let herself relax for a moment, her body melting against the cool, hard wood.

Her mind was still reeling. Yesterday had been a mess. She couldn't help but hate herself, and hate everything she had done. Mikael was right. She couldn't help but feel like they were betraying everything they were supposed to stand for.

Brynn let her thoughts wander, drifting back to the realm of what-if's and maybe's that always seemed to haunt her personal moments. What if Mikael was right? Maybe the Empire was no longer reaching for just goals. Maybe they had lost sight of what was in the best interest of the people they were supposed to be protecting. But if that were true, then she had been fighting for nothing. People had died for nothing. She would have simply traded one form of slavery for another... No, that was not true.

She could have ended her career years ago, going back to the village of Karn where her foster-parents resided. Maybe they would take her back; maybe they would not be angry with her betrayal and disobedience. Maybe she could have started her life over again. Brynn closed her eyes against the memories.

~...~

If they didn't hurry, they were going to be late... again. Brynnea pushed past the fat baker, ducking so she didn't catch his tray in the face. She had to find her brother. What good was it to show up to their birthday celebration without him?

Brynnea tried to catch a glimpse of him through the dense crowd of the town market, but she was too small to see over much. Everything was bigger than her! She dodged and weaved through the throng, glancing about quickly for the boy who was going to get her in loads of trouble. People around her moved and shifted, talked and jostled to be noticed by the merchants and tinkers. She wasn't getting anywhere.... and then she saw the empty table that the tavern owners had pulled outside to draw people in.

Brynnea ran up the side aisle to the open area, jumping up onto the bench. Climbing onto the table, she began scanning the crowd. He was nowhere to be seen. She hopped back down from the table, sighing. This was ridiculous.

Just about on the verge of giving up, Brynnea felt a hand touch her own. Looking back, she found Mikael just behind her, a soft smile on his always serenely smooth face.

"Where have you been?!" She scolded him, "Lorlan has been asking about you for hours! We have to go, or we'll both be late!"

He didn't respond, as he normally did not talk much. But she knew by the little squeeze of her hand that he was sorry for causing her so much trouble with their foster-mother. They both knew that that woman could be a force to reckon with when she wanted to be, especially when it came to her two foster-children. Holding tightly onto Mikael's hand, Brynnea pulled her brother through the square and out of the market center as they hurried home.

The little cottage on the outskirts of town was not much to look at. The jagged stone walls supported the low-hanging wooden roof, evidence of the time and efforts the residents had put into creating their home. It was small, with three rooms added on haphazardly, making it look uneven and smaller than it really was. What was more impressive about the house was the Forge sitting next to it. That was Brynnea's favorite part about living with Bidan the Swordsmith. His forge was beautiful, all full of shining metal and perfectly formed weapons. It was always blazing hot from the fire, but Brynn always felt safe within its heat.

The door to the cottage flung open then, and a short, plump woman came scurrying toward them. Her strawberry blonde curls swept behind her as she glides toward them. Their mother always glided, graceful as a bird in flight.

"Come on, come on! Stop moseying and start hurrying!" She called to them, her voice warm and pleasant. Reaching the two children, she swept them toward the door with one hand. Taking a place behind them, she reached around and placed a gentle hand over both siblings' eyes. Brynn felt a grin wash over her face, excitement building.

They were guided inside the small home a few steps, and then their mother removed her hands.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" came the collective yell of those gathered in their tiny home. A small group of friends stood gathered around their table, which was filled with various sweet breads, cakes and fruit. A new dress lay over the back of a wooden chair, the cuffs freshly embroidered with intricate loops and knots. A small dagger, bound in its leather sheath lay on the table. Both were beautiful gifts, and the children happily rushed forward to take a look.

The celebration began then, music and laughter filling the room.

But despite the happiness that radiated throughout the room, no one could dismiss the underlying sadness of the day, the tension that permeated throughout.

Today was the twelfth marking of their birth. For the young girls of Grecia, this meant that they were old enough to prepare for marriage offerings. For young boys, it meant enlisting into military service. In each case, there were no exceptions.

They would be separated. Mikael would be enlisted on the next Recruitment shift, mere days away. He would be shipped down the coast for training, and his military career would begin.

Many boys never returned, save for the small amount of gold paid to the family upon their death. Mikael had never been a strong boy. He had never been athletic, or outgoing. He was quiet, timid, and gentle. There was a good chance he wouldn't make it through training. And if he did, Brynn thought, there was a greater chance that he would not survive his first battle. She couldn't help but think it, and she knew everyone else was thinking it as well.

But no one talked about that. No one wanted to spoil the joy of the day.

~...~

On the day of Recruitment, Brynnea watched the boys from the village swimming in the swimming hole for the last time before they left for training. It was one of those childhood pastimes they were going to miss. She had never joined them. She was a girl and was forbidden to join in the fun. It was unseemly. Instead, she sometimes snuck to the top of the falls so she could watch and imagine what it would be like if she were allowed to play with the boys.

Brynn sighed. There were a lot of things she wasn't allowed to do just because she was a girl. She was not allowed to wear trousers, or ride horses, or sit in on Council Meetings. Girls weren't allowed to do much of anything it seemed. She was considered almost equal to a slave, she knew. She was property and most of the time she was very aware of that.

It didn't matter that she had worked in Bidan's forge for years. She had built and tended the fire, and helping him forge the swords for the army's ever growing demand. Her birthday this year had marked the beginning of her womanly training. Her aunt Lorlan has begun teaching her to run a house, like all the other girls' her age. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to learn how to run a house. She liked working in the forge, and someday, she wished she could learn to use the swords she helped to make. Lorlan had often commented that Brynn's knowledge of Smithing would someday rival Bidan's, but that that knowledge was going to get her into trouble. It was those complaints that kept Bidan from teaching her to do more than haul supplies and stoke the flames lately.

She was a girl, but Brynn knew she could do it.

Just like she knew, without a doubt, that she could help her brother.

She could protect him.

Brynn knew what she had to do.

She arose from her place on the rock and picked her way down the steep rock face. The boys below her were splashing and playing in the waters of the swimming hole, completely oblivious to the things happening around them. Quietly, so as not to draw their attention, Brynn slipped through the shady brush to where the boys had shed their clothing. Rummaging through the piles, she found trousers and a tunic that looked about her size. Maybe she should have felt guilty about taking them, but she needed a disguise if her plan was going to work.

As quickly as possible, she slipped away into the forest to become a new person and save her brother- one way or another.

~...~

The docks were busier than Brynn remembered. There were soldiers everywhere, stern and weather-worn, more than should probably be necessary to pick up the year's recruits. The large number had crowded out the usual array of fishmongers and traders, but these men seemed bawdier- yelling and jostling amongst each other.

Brynn ran her hand threw her freshly-shorn hair, briefly lamenting her decision to cut it short. She shook that feeling quickly. She came for her brother's sake.

Brynn scanned the sea of soldiers, looking for his familiar blonde mop and small, quiet stature. She couldn't see him from where she was. Sighing, Brynn made her way onto the lower dock. Further off, there was a crowd forming. Maybe that was where Mikael was?

"You lost, boy?" A rough grunt from behind her said. Brynnea whirled, almost tripping over the one -size too big boots she stole. The big man put a thick hand out to catch her, righting her as if she were a tiny figurine on a rich lady's shelf.

"Well?" He repeated.

"Umm... sorry, Sir. Which way for Recruitment?" Brynnea hoped the highness of her voice didn't give her away. But the man merely pointed.

"That way. And I'd hurry up!"

Brynn nodded once, then turned in the direction she was pointed in. The crowd neared and Brynn could feel the knots forming in her stomach, threatening to come up into her throat.

What if she wasn't so lucky next time and they saw right through her? No, She couldn't think about that now. She was already here.

Finding the line for the Recruitment desk, Brynnea joined the queue.

~...~

Brynn shook her head to clear it of those thoughts. She really needed to get the last of her paperwork finished, before Askeridis came looking for it. Pushing herself out of the chair, Brynn straightened and stretched some of the stiffness out of her muscles. Turning toward the northern wing which housed her office, Brynnea heard the main door open. She turned her head to look.

An older man of about forty, dressed in the pale linen clothes of the lower caste, walked steadily toward her. His determined walk did little to belay the slight tremor of his hands, or the smoldering anger that hardened his face.

Wary, Brynn squared her shoulders to face him, "Civilians are not allowed in these facilities. You need to leave." She did not notice the knife in his hand until he was but a few feet from her.

"You killed my son!" he spat. Brynn vaguely saw him lung at her, the long dagger glinting in the dim candlelight. She backpedaled quickly, twisting her body to the left, the blade deflected from her core. Pain slashed through her ribs as the metal pierced through her uniform, ripping a gash in muscle underneath.

Lucky for her, she was quicker than the old man. Letting her momentum carry her, Brynn put a few feet and a chair between herself and her attacker. Unfortunately, her attacker was also between herself and the door to her office... where her weapons were. Damn it.

The older man, however, barely paused in his pursuit of her. Tossing the wooden chair between them, he rushed forward again, stabbing outward wildly with the knife. Brynn knew she needed to end this quickly, or someone was going to die. As he attacked, Brynn did not dodge, instead merely twisting back to the left, letting the knife glide mere inches from her face, but also putting the Old man off balance again. With one hand, Brynn grabbed the knife hand, pushing down and away from her. Her other arm reached underneath his arm, effectively drawing his shoulder into her body. Pulling up quickly on his knife-hand, the attacker's body was forced to double over. Throwing all her weight against his shoulder, Brynn threw the man to the floor. Something cracked in his arm, but Brynn ignored it, instead ripping the knife from the man's hand. Not wanting to run the risk of her attacker getting his hands on it again, she tossed the knife across the room, before shifting her weight and digging her knee into his back.

The commotion in the entryway had draw some of the men from their quarters. Gregory rushed to her side, his eyes trained on her would-be assassin. As soon as his hands gripped the old man's arm, Brynn stood quickly, the gash in her side burning. Others had gathered around; the entryway was beginning to feel crowded.

"Gregory, get him to the prisoner's Wardhouse. Tell Commander Laskeris I'll be talking to him in the morning."

"Yes, Sir." Two others moved to help her comrade, and the three escorted her attacker from the Compound. Some of the men began murmuring amongst themselves. Gods, sometimes they were worse than teenage serving girls.

Moving toward the stairwell, Brynn caught sight of Mikael. His face didn't give much away, but she could see the traces of concern in his eyes. She tried to ignore the pain as she opened the door to the first landing. She sensed Mikael follow her.

"Where are you going?" Mikael asked, his tone demanding like a brother ought. Brynn paused.

"I have to go take care of this." she said, indicating the large gash across her ribs. The concern in his eyes became a little fiercer.

"Let me take care of it." Mikael slide an arm under her elbow, supporting her as they mounted the stair.

"It isn't that bad, I can walk on my own."

"No doubt, I'm sure. But I'll help anyway."

Brynn rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. As annoying at it was, she allowed Mikael to guide her up the two flights of stone stairs, taking the door at the top. Opening it, they stepped carefully into the hall dividing the Officer's quarters. Brynn's rooms were positioned at the end of the hall, furthest from the stairwell. At that moment, she wished it wasn't so far. Goddess, she hoped her Lieutenants were all asleep. She didn't need them asking questions or calling the medics.

Thankfully, none of them did. Mikael opened the door to her rooms, allowing her to enter first. The gash in her side stung painfully as she lowered herself into the first armchair she reached. Mikael moved across the room to retrieve the physician's kit from behind her desk, as well as putting a small kettle of water over the fire. She kept a complete kit for times like these, when she needed medical attention, but had no one trustworthy to go to. Yet another reason Mikael was so invaluable to her. This disguise of her's was dangerous. More dangerous that she realized when she decided to go through with her hair-brained plan. She could not bathe with the other men, having to make excuses or make mistakes just to get out of it. She could not change around them, as they did so often. Being injured was the worst, though. They were soldiers, not medics. On more than one occasion, Brynn had found herself struggling to remain awake and on her feet to keep the medics and her superiors from inadvertently finding out her secret. Mikael had always been there for her, taking her away from their watchful gaze and patching her up as best he could. Sometimes Brynn was able to do it herself, other times- he was a her protector.