Kate strolled the streets of New Aldren, enjoying the cold night breeze that brought the scent of pine and the sea. She had on her casual clothes, a dark green tunic and a long muddy brown skirt that had seen better days. Still, the guardswoman refused to wear anything else when it came to her free days. These clothes reminded her of a simpler time, back when she was a shopkeeper's assistant and had nothing more to worry about other than overdue stock and the occasional taxes from the council.

In fact, walking through New Aldren, Kate could recognize what the street had once been. Once a part of the market district, this street was a home to merchant shops and tradesmen stands alike. If Kate let her imagination run a little, she could see the old street through the lenses of her younger self.

Crowds bustled through in a wave of people, shouts and calls sounding out from every direction. The sound of footsteps on the cobble was overwhelming, a thunderous cacophony that somehow added to the rhythm of what was the street's daily song.

Kate had been a young girl then, navigating through the sea of people like a castaway sailor hopelessly fighting against the currents. Only her father back then had the finesse to glide through the chaos without much effort. Kate could still remember the smile on his face when he found her fumbling through, her actions akin to a blind mule.

"You have to move along with the crowd," he had said to her. "Just follow my example, alright?"

Kate retraced the steps of that day, her shoes scraping against the ice-covered street as she moved. She replicated the twisting route, flakes of snow falling around her as she did this wide berth of a dance. In the end, she ended up at a bend, the buildings around her being that of the homes that were built for the refugees from Aldren.

Yet even now, Kate could recognize the plot of land where her father's shop had once lay. The shop that had once been home. Where her grandfather and his father once lived. Where she herself had been born before her mother died to the bitter Frost that came later that year.

The same place where Seamus Halvorson had killed four men, saving Kate's life. She had to drag him out when the flames had reached the building, which meant leaving behind her home and her family's legacy. Kate still wasn't sure if she'd still be who she was had her home not burned.

'Perhaps best we do not dwell on what could be,' Kate thought. Yes, it was nice to reminisce on the past. Better that it stay like that.

"Someplace important?" someone asked from behind. Kate turned around to see a man in a tattered wool jacket, his hands pulling the edges around himself as he lightly shivered. Even without the blue cloak and Captain's pin, Kate could recognize Felix.

His light brown hair was a mess, despite being cut short and his goatee was unkempt to the point where it was almost a full grown beard. He had dark rings underneath his eyes, a sign of countless sleepless nights.

"Once upon a time," Kate replied with a shrug. Felix just scratched at his chin, his breath coming out in a puff of vapor.

"Will you talk to him?" the guardsman finally asked. "About tomorrow?"

"I will," Kate said softly. "If it means he'll survive."

"Still need to hammer out some of the details, but if everything goes right, Seamus will survive the raid," Felix said. "As well as most of the townsfolk."

Kate only gave a small nod of appreciation before she turned to the north, where beyond the walls and buildings, she knew an armada awaited. While the fires on those accursed ships were far from sight, Kate could still make out the plumes of smoke that rose against the night sky, the acrid smell of smoke wafting in from the winds. If she focused enough, she swore she could hear distant drums thump in unison, their unsettling song growing to a crescendo.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Felix asked as he yawned, his steps growing louder as he approached. He stopped at her side, hands in his pockets as he stared off at the north, same as her. "You'll have a better chance of surviving this."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"No," Kate whispered. Despite the fear that squeezed at her heart, despite the dread she felt, Kate would not run. Despite all those times she cursed her father for throwing his life away so carelessly. For the young woman had willingly repeated his mistakes. "I won't leave my home."

"Your father…" Felix huffed as he crossed his arms. "He would've called you an idiot. But…" he flashed her a comforting smile. "He probably would've stood by your side had he been alive."

"You knew him, didn't you?" Kate asked. "Before he went with the others to seek help?"

"Only for a day," Felix admitted. "But he wouldn't stop talking about you, about how stubborn you were about staying with the shop. 'That girl is going to get herself killed!' and 'Stubborn girl, temper like her mother, I swear!'"

Kate couldn't help but let out a small laugh at that, snorting as she replied, "Sounds like him."`

"Sounded real annoyed, you know," Felix muttered. "Still, despite his complaining, I could tell that he was proud in a strange way."

"Proud?" Kate said as she glanced at Felix with an incredulous look. "Of what? A weak shopkeeper who couldn't even save herself? I should've listened to his advice and sought safety instead of trying to prove myself."

"Perhaps, perhaps," Felix said with a sigh. "But I don't think it was your strength or common sense that made him proud. I like to believe that he saw that determination, that flame within you. Did you know that Harald called you his best student? Or that Helen admires you? James even praises you sometimes when we speak about the guardsmen. And Seamus thinks the world of you, Kate. But it isn't for your strength. Or your tactics. It's because when things start to break down, when the situation begins to go to hel, you still fight. Even when you stand no chance, you still fight."

Kate didn't answer right away. She only listened, her hand gripping the fabric of her skirt as Felix spoke. He wasn't completely right. Kate had locked up during her first encounter with the marauders. If Seamus hadn't saved her, she'd be dead meat. She won her skirmish during the Battle of Yorktown but lost a squadmate and failed to save Harris from a life-changing wound. And during the Midsommar Incident, Harald had given his life to protect her and the guardsmen. And Kate could do nothing as she was dragged away by her friends.

'I should've been prepared. I should've been better. All those times, I should have—'

Kate stopped herself as a gust of frigid wind passed by her, interrupting her thoughts temporarily. In that moment of shivering from the cold, a voice from the past called to her.

"No one is ever ready, Kate."

She stopped for a moment, reminiscing. It was the last words Harald had spoken to her before she was taken away. Kate held onto the memory, reliving it in her mind as she considered the meaning. No one was ever ready. Helen had said that to her once during training. It was to prepare her for the life of a guardsman, of a soldier. Nothing was set in stone. Everything can and will go wrong at some point. As such, trying to be ready for it all was folly. Thus, the words.

Yet Helen had made it a point that it didn't mean that it was entirely hopeless. It only meant that one needed something more than just training and skill. They needed to be able to handle things going wrong. To react accordingly when a plan goes to shit and all hel breaks loose. They needed determination and the strength to keep pushing forward.

"No plan or tactic ever goes smoothly," Helen had said to the trainees. "In fact, they usually end up blowing up in your face. But it won't mean the end. Not right away, at least. You must be able to react. To fight regardless of the situation. There is a saying, one I learned very early on in my life. The most important aspect of strength is not the ability to cave in skulls and splinter ribs, but to keep moving, fighting, and pushing. That is why we pick ourselves up and PRESS FORTH."

Kate looked at Felix, who had started giving her a confused look. She only smiled at him.

"Thank you," she said. "For telling me about my father."

"You know," Felix started. "There's still time."

"I'm sorry, but," Kate started to head back into the town, back to her little home by the border. Where she knew Seamus was waiting for her. "I'm still going to stay, Captain. I'm not going to leave my home. Even if my father would want me to head for safety."

Felix only watched as she walked off, his head shaking as he strolled off to another direction, somewhere east of town. Kate just kept walking, feeling a sense of resignation as she gazed upon the dark buildings of Yorktown, the sparse lighting of the lanterns being her only guide through the streets.

For she knew that this would be the last time she'd gaze upon it all.

'Whatever happens, I won't die running.'

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.