An Affordance

"Have you ever come to hate something you are apt at doing?" Oona asked, sitting upon the wooden floor of the watch post, waiting for the end.

Rokas could only shake his head, he found great joy in making things. It suited him on a level he didn't have the words for. He struggled to understand how that must feel.

"Even from a young age I acted out, was a terror to my siblings and everyone in the neighborhood my age. I think my family was glad to see me gone when I enlisted. I don't blame them." Oona's face was turned towards the enemy's positions. If it seemed as though victory were possible it would be a blessing for the town that so much of it still stood, but now the buildings only sheltered the enemy from fire. It was assumed that those in the Temple were similarly surrounded, but as the fires died down the happenings there were impossible to discern from the hilltop.

"I wanted to be away from there. It didn't matter where I went, so long as it wasn't the apartments and crowds of that city. Of course, I wasn't always the physical specimen you see before you. I was tall as many men before the Pact, but I couldn't just rely on brute strength as I sometimes do now. It didn't matter. I was good."

"I was no storied hero, whatever the witch says of me. You won't hear my name next to Gillian or the like, but I did my part and I found success. When I gained my pact I felt like it would mark a change in my life, like I would stand out in ways I had not before. It a way it did, but not how I would have ever expected. When Fiachra died I think my joy of it died with him."

"You were close?" Rokas had not heard her speak of this person before, but had come to suspect a story was there to be told. Perhaps some day he would know its full extent.

"Yes." There was much she did not say, the smith could tell. "But I'm here now and there are things that need done that only I have hope of doing. Despite how this came about, I not a victim here. I choose where I go now. I am where I need to be."

"You sound as though you are convincing yourself." Rokas said, watching her expression closely. He was next to her and it was there he intended to remain.

"Maybe I am."

"You could still strangle Dalma. She's right over there." He pointed towards the priestess, who was resting opposite to them. Oona laughed, but did not take the opportunity to vent her frustrations.

Despite resting there was a weariness to Dalma that seemed to linger. Rokas was not certain if it was a lasting effect of the magic she had used to aid Oona, or just mundane exhaustion. All the defenders were weary, but the threat of a sudden and final assault made sleep unappealing. Oona had remained in their makeshift accommodation for less time than he that morning, suffered multiple injuries, been an active combatant, yet she remained alert. Rokas was finding his own endurance was reaching its limits. He chided himself for feeling so exhausted having only participated in the fringes of the conflict. The Pact-Bearer next to him projected a greater readiness than he despite having been at the center of the defense and rising earlier than he did that day.

There was a long quiet. Embers still flickered in some of the fires from the earlier fighting, but little could be seen going on in town. Were it not for occasional glimpses of soldiers huddled in and behind nearby homes, one could almost forget that there was a battle going on. For a long time nothing happened.

"Don't suppose they have given up, do you?" Rokas asked.

"No. We did well to perturb them, but they are just recovering their casualties and making ready if I had to guess." Oona said. "With a Paladin leading them it is less likely their moral will falter. They would know there isn't much we can do about him."

"I think were it not for him this situation would be a lot different."

"Maybe. There are a lot of them out there. We were at a disadvantage from the start. The longer we keep their attention the farther our people can get from town."

It was then that a single figure from the invading forces walked openly at the foot of the switchback that lead to the watchpost and halted. There was some delay before several arrows were fired at him, but none found their target. Some of the projectiles rebounded against an unseen force a foot from his head and body, but most sailed inexplicably wide of their target.

The paladin called up at the defenders. "I would treat with you, but if you wish to continue shooting me we can dispense with diplomatic measures!" His voice boomed though he did not shout and he could be heard easily by all assembled.

Oona grumbled a curse before motioning to the defenders to cease their fire. She remained behind cover and called out to the man. "You burn our homes and kill our folk and now you wish to talk?"

"And you conspire with the corrosive forces of this world to corrupt and debase Humanity. We could continue to lob accusations at one-another all night, but if I wanted all the people of this town dead you would be soon. I wish to talk." His voice replied

"Is that what you wanted to do with the folk of the town north of here? Have a nice talk while you killed them and destroyed their homes?"

"The people of that settlement are not dead, if that puts you at ease. Only some who resisted were killed, but the others will be relocated."

Oona could not repress an angry snarl, incensed as she was at this lie. She clinched her sword and Rokas was certain he could hear her tendons straining in the act. For a short time he thought she was considering springing over the barricade to attack the man right away. Yet it was true that they had not seen any bodies when they had traveled to Rest. Oona argued that it was too dangerous to scout the destruction more closely.

"I should take you at your word on that, should I?" Oona replied eventually.

"There is little I can offer you as proof of my intentions, that is true. Whatever propaganda you may have had your head filled with, let me tell you the first concern of my order is saving human lives. There are few enough of us on this world as it is- our wars among ourselves only benefit our captors, after all. To that end I would limit the bloodshed tonight if I can."

"I can offer you a choice. Unconditional surrender would be accepted, none will be harmed and we will resettle you somewhere less contentious." His tone left Rokas imagining the Paladin now wore an obnoxious grin, though he could see nothing of the face under the visor of the man's helm. "You can continue to fight us, but if you do so mercy will be in short supply when we take your last positions. There is also another option." He spread his arms wide. "Appoint a champion to fight me. If they win my men will withdraw from these territories immediately. If I win your people will surrender."

"Your order doesn't spare Pact-Bearers, you kill us where you find us. Every one of your cities has agents who exist only to kill those among your kin who are like me. Surrender would never be an option, you lie from the start!"

"You understand us, but I can be more flexible than that. If you just surrender I could spare you. Our mandate is to do as you describe, that is true, but it need not be done right now. In the spirit of saving the lives of many? I could permit you to surrender your weapon and flee from this territory unarmed. Eventually our Church might find you, but even if your cities were to fall the wilds are vast and you could dwell there for so long as you live never found by us. Should you choose to fight in the duel? The problem would sort itself out then, wouldn't it?"

"You are a worthy opponent, I've already tried to kill you twice now, after all." He went on. "I commend your strike at me in town. Had I been even a little slower you might have had me. My counter should have torn you to bits, but you managed to turn most of it aside. That is some weapon you wield, enchanted isn't it?"

"Tried to kill you twice?" Rokas considered this aloud. The implications were clear. This is the man who had tried to poison Oona. If he done so personally or if one of his subordinates had infiltrated the staff at the Mayor's manor was not yet evident.

"These are your only terms?" Oona asked, ignoring the Paladin's question.

"That is all. I'll give you a short while to confer among yourselves, but do not take too long in making your choice." And with that said the Paladin turned and left, returning to town where his men now gathered.

Oona walked towards the center of the hilltop defense and others who had been listening joined her there. Rokas assumed that she was still vested with the authority of the council to command the defense, but he wasn't certain if that gave her the power to negotiate a surrender. Of the ad-hoc council only Fionn remained upon the hill, the others were either lost in battle or now with those who gathered at the temple. Rokas hoped they were now some distance from town.

Of those assembled, Dalma and Fion were the only people other than Oona who had any authority in town. A few others from the defense gathered around to listen to the short conference which was now held.

"What do you make of his offer to allow us to surrender?" Rokas asked.

"We cannot trust that, particularly knowing that we have killed many of their number tonight. It would take most of them to supervise the march he suggests and the conditions we would make it in would be arduous." Oona looked at the eyes of those gathered.

Everyone was tired, many had suffered injury. Of those assembled many now wore clothes stained in blood or soot, often both. Moral was failing.

Oona turned to Dalma, "Any insight on how much more magic that Paladin can work tonight?"

"I cannot be sure. He has used two major spells that I have witnessed and maintains protective wards. That he felt comfortable to augment his voice to speak with you either shows that he is confident in his strength or that he is wanting to seem that way. I am sorry, but there is not much to glean. He is powerful, at minimum I would suspect he could do again as much as he has already done. He is certain to have mastery of spells we have not yet seen tonight as well." The priestess seemed reluctant to admit that she could not be certain.

"What about you?" She asked the priestess.

"I am very nearly exhausted. I have one or two Phrases I could yet employ, but further healing will not be possible. It would deaden the words for me to call on them again so soon." Dalma still looked tired, but there was determination in her expression despite the long night.

When Rokas considered how Oona was doing more closely a different impression of her current state emerged. Her posture was subtly bent. Despite having received healing, when she walked Rokas could note a hitch in her stride. She did a good job of hiding it, but she still hurt. Rokas considered that she was doing better than he would be in her place.

"We could flee right now." Rokas suggested.

"It would be very risky. They might have scouts on the other side of the stream. At the very least we would want to distract them before making a break for it." Oona's gaze went over their surroundings as she considered their situation. "I hate to say it, but I think there really is only one way to play this and have hope of some of us escaping."

"You intend to fight him then." Rokas said.

"I think for as long as the duel lasts most of the enemy will be paying it more attention than if the lot of you slide over the hill and make an escape."

"Whatever happened to running from the Paladin?" Rokas asked. He didn't think his voice cracked, but it did waver.

"Plans rarely work out."

That she or all of them could die in this fight was something he was aware of from the onset. That would have been different. It was intensely frustrating, infuriating even, to have it come to an ending like this. To have worked so hard and have what now mattered most to him stolen at the last moment was a cruelty he had not considered. He was no warrior, but a rage boiled up inside him the likes of which he had seldom felt in his life. The sort of anger than in some would allow for fighting against impossible odds, for hopeless last stands, but in him felt bereft. He could not fight, not against this situation and not in a way that would make a difference. Rokas wanted so badly to be able to contribute to helping Oona, but it felt to him in the moment that his entire life had been a series of useless choices. His craft, his learning- all the careful planning he had lived most of his life within did not matter against these forces.

There was a desire to lash out. To yell and curse at fate and at the world and at all beings who could listen. A petty, selfish urge. Oona had not given in to such an impulse despite she knew she was making choices that would lead to her own death. She was composed, more relaxed than he could imagine being in this moment and she was watching him. He resolved to tamp all of this down. She had to know what this was like. Perhaps she had been in his shoes before.

"I am sorry that you have to go through this." She said, reaching out to him.

He welcomed her touch. Those around them had dispersed as much as they could upon the hilltop. They must have sensed that the pair would need a moment and some privacy.

"Sorry for what? Giving us a chance at escape?" He felt the bitter emotions rise again and drove them back from where they came. "I should manage this better than I am. You deserve better."

"You haven't started blubbering just yet. I think your self-reproach is not quite earned." She smiled down at him. That she could smile now was a wonder to him. In spite of everything how much of this was a facade. Did fear eat away at her as it did Rokas or was she possessed of a resolve beyond that now?

"You might win."

"I might." She said, but then, "I want to thank you."

"What for?"

"I don't have much time to say this, so I am going to try my best to put these feelings and thoughts to words. You've given me a lot to consider, especially as things grew between us."

"How can a woman put all this to words? It is a struggle. I have never been the best at expressing myself. But I know better than to let things remain unsaid" She hugged him tighter now.

"I wandered alone for a long time. I guess it must have been years, but I have never sat down and looked. I cannot say for sure why the fancy to take this contract took me as it did. Now that I am where I am I wonder if there was not some other hand in it. My time with you has given me a hope that I did not think I would ever find again. I will never find the ways to say it and do some justice to the feeling, but I still hope to one day show you my thanks."

"You already have. You need not fear and know that I feel the same for you." A tear managed to escape, but he felt it was merited in the situation.

"May we continue this conversation, be it here or elsewhere." Oona said.

He nodded and they parted

Her absence was stark to him as she withdrew and made herself ready. It felt like a numb ringing someplace at his core. He was not certain he could endure it.

...

...

The priestess came to Oona again, flanked by both of her attendants. She reached up to Oona's face and placed her palms upon the sides of her lupine features. Oona did not withdraw from the blessing, it might be funny to be petty or resentful towards Dalma now, but somehow such a gesture would not be befitting this situation.

The nature of the afterlife was the matter of some dispute among even the highly religious in The Partition. In the World Before there was a strong belief that the gods of man had provided for a reward for the good and a punishment for the bad. If this arrangement had persisted into the New World was unknown and the Manifold God seemed mostly quiet on the matter. Some still held that the provisions that had existed before remained in place. Others said that there was a new system befitting all else that had changed.

Besides words of blessing, Dalma had one other thing to add. She began a new chant in what might have been the same tongue she had intoned when healing Oona. The pact-bearer's eyes went wide and there was a rushing as wind through the forest in summer. As she completed this spell Dalma faltered, her attendants catching her. She had known that this spell would take her to the point of exhaustion and made certain someone was there to catch her.

"The wind will aid you. For a time, despite your weariness, you will feel lighter than your burdens. The Paladin will break this spell as soon as he notices it. I would suggest playing up your exhaustion and only making use of it when it may shift the balance of the fight."

Then, with only a moment's hesitation, Oona walked out beyond the barricade and into the night beyond. Out with her went two men from the town. Each held torches which they deposited upon the long curving road before returning to the barricades. The path with the switchbacks would not be suitable for a duel so it would be here that the pair would have their contest.

"I accept your challenge, Paladin! Come and meet me!" Oona called forth into the darkened town. She held her greatsword resting with one of its flat sides over one shoulder. She was doing a good job of appearing to be at ease for all the stress of the moment.

It was not long before the figure of the Paladin emerged from the gloom of town. For his part, he was true to his word. No attack was made upon Oona while she waited for him in the open space of the path. The road was made of rough earth and on both sides the ground around it dropped away sharply into a hill. On Oona's left side it fell to the stream, and on her right a steep gully ran. For drainage there was a small stone duct that allowed for the flow of water to the stream in times of rain.

The Paladin stopped several strides before his opponent and offered her a short bow. She afforded him a nod.

"I will do what I can to offer you a clean death, Beast." He said to her.

"I would see you die screaming." She told him. He only shrugged at this response, making ready his sword and shield. Oona took hold of her weapon in both hands and adopted a casual stance with a low guard.

"On your mark then." The Paladin told her and their fight began.

For some time Oona was content to observe her foe. He was not exceptionally tall for a normal human though there was an air about him that made him seem more than was apparent at a glance. Magic could subtly influence perception, he had clearly been doing just that before she had struck out at him in the town. Him merely being present would bolster his allies and dismay the defenders of Hearth.

He was comfortable in his armor and bore its weight well. For the first time in a very long time Oona would not have minded having her own suit of plate. The chain shirt she had pilfered from the encounter near Rest had taken a beating just as its wearer had. Against a normal foe she would be content in knowing that glancing blows against her would be turned by the mail. This was not a normal foe.

Any strike by him would cut more surely than if the blade were held by another. His order could reflexively maintain multiple magical enhancements at a time. She had seen them move faster than any Pact-Bearer or normal man. They could be stronger too. There was a limit to what they could maintain at once. She was fighting under the assumption that he would be at least as fast and as strong as she was and that he could conjure forth more sundering attacks like the one she had partially deflected.

She recalled the question that the Paladin had put to her in their short negotiation proceeding this fight. Was her sword enchanted? It was almost miraculous that it had not shattered when the Paladin and her had first clashed. In the fragment of a moment that she had to react she made the judgment that breaking the sword would be preferable to being rendered into a cloud of meat and blood, yet it had held. The force was still too great to parry, but it had been Oona's lack of footing and strength that failed before the sword had.