A perfect man. Those were the words that every person in the empire used to describe the Holy Knight. With shining golden hair and deep violet eyes, he turned heads and made the hearts of any man or woman who looked at him flutter. He was known as a dreamy, beautiful man with a beautiful heart to match. He gave to the poor, volunteered his time, and frequently donated to orphanages. In no other words, he was perfect. Absolutely too perfect.
The Holy Knight, the Hero, Sir Paladin, each name all referring to the same man: An orphan raised by the church and raised as the hero to end the centuries long war, Veridin. He was taken in and treated with the utmost care, taught swordsmanship and etiquette. That is what people believe after all. The Holy Knight was well respected, and treated the people with respect.
Which couldn't be further from the truth. If there is one thing to remember, nothing is spotless. Even something beautiful can be deadly and disgusting underneath.
Veridin stood with his hands behind his back solemnly as deep red wine dripped down from his golden hair. Sharp violet eyes bore holes into the oblivious viscount in front of him. It wasn't unexpected that a glass of wine was splashed on him. Viscount Brandy was well known for his obsession with pouring drinks over servants and people he disliked. Veridin wore a blank expression as the viscount continued.
"How dare a mere knight tell me what to do! On whose orders are you above me?"
Veridin let out a soft exhale. He smiled gently, watching the viscount's face contort in rage. It was an act of self control, unbeknownst to the viscount.
"As I said, High Priest Malas sent me to accompany you to the front lines. We are supposed to leave today along with your soldiers. Did you not also receive the imperial order?"
Veridin spoke softly. His voice was soothing. Yet there was something about how calm he was, coupled with his unwavering gaze that was somehow unsettling. His perfect demeanor wasn't going to be broken by something as trivial as this. Veridin waited patiently for the arrogant man before him to back down.
"What imperial order?" Viscount Brandy snapped with a smirk on his face.
Veridin's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He wasn't annoyed by the viscount feigning ignorance. In fact, he was partially amused. Had this been normal circumstances, Veridin would have taken the time to drag this petty lie through the mud. With a sigh, Veridin held his hand out. A long swatch of silence followed. Veridin turned, with a smile, to the attendants that had followed him. Calmly he spoke, "The paper?"
This wasn't the first time he had been accompanied by priests from the Church, however this also wasn't the first batch of people that followed him. As the attendants stumbled over themselves, handing the paper over to him, he maintained a patient smile. He remarked on how pointless it was of the High Priest to send these informants while watching one of the priests bow nervously. He gave a gentle wave before turning back to the viscount and unfurling the paper.
"Viscount Brandy, by order of his majesty, Deston Lanel IV, you are to provide reinforcements and supplies to the front lines on the Delos river bank on the day of August 29th, of the 274th year of the imperial calendar. You are also to accompany the Hero and Grand Marshal to the front lines and ensure their safe arrival." Veridin turned the paper holding the imperial seal towards the viscount with a smile still plastered to his face. "Shall we head out now, Viscount Brandy?"
Outside, Veridin dried his hair with a towel. Next to him, the two priests were offering their worthless apologies. Pulling the towel down, he stared at the red stain on the cream fabric for a moment. He had met Viscount Brandy before. If not for his own spotless reputation, he would have insulted the viscount at their first meeting. Viscount Brandy was one of those people that Veridin absolutely loved to see fall apart. Every time someone arrogant backed down in front of him, he was filled with a sense of satisfaction, and Viscount Brandy was indeed the word arrogant. Which wasn't for no reason.
Behind Viscount Brandy stood Earl Reifield. It wasn't a stretch to say that Viscount Brandy was merely a dog barking in the arms of its owner, but Veridin chose to keep his nose out of politics. Politics were unnecessary, so he did his best to avoid them altogether. He firmly planted his feet on neutral ground by taking the side of the people. Getting involved in politics was neither fun, nor conducive to his goals. However, subtly driving those highbrow and haughty nobles crazy was especially fun.
A rough hand planted itself in Veridin's golden locks and ruffled them lovingly. The action jolted him from his trance before he turned around and looked up.
Veridin stared up at the burly man with deep brown hair marked with streaks of gray and hazel eyes to match. His face was marked with stubble and scars, but still held a smile so radiant it outshone the sun. In his own eyes, even Veridin's golden hair paled in comparison to this man's smile. His voice held a deep seated respect as he said, "Commander."
The man's smile somehow became even brighter, "Looks like it didn't go too well, did it kid?"
Veridin gave a relaxed smile. The man standing in front of him was the grand marshal. The man who taught him swordsmanship. "It went as well as I expected."
"I knew I could leave it to you." He set his hand on Veridin's shoulder. "You're a sharp one."
"I'm not a kid anymore Commander," Veridin gently brushed the hand off of his shoulder.
"I'm well aware of that. Ver, let's talk."
Veridin paused before he waved the two attendants away, then dipping his head slightly he spoke, "Lead the way."
The two walked away, side by side. No words were exchanged for a long while. It was an exchange so natural, one that had occurred dozens of times before. The silence was broken when the grand marshal turned to Veridin.
"Veridin, I've watched you for years now. But there's something I could never figure out. What do you live for?"
Veridin's eyes shifted momentarily, "What do you mean, Commander?"
"Don't play dumb with me kid. I've lived 30 years longer than you. I'm an old man, I've seen a lot of people. You don't behave like you have a life outside of the battlefield. Don't you have something you want to do with your life, Ver?"
"... I do." Veridin stopped, staring into the hazel eyes turned towards him. A blazing fire raged behind his midnight eyes. A passionate, yet twisted, dancing flame.
"I see. I know that look. You're seeking revenge on someone aren't you?"
"If I am, will you chastise me?"
"No." Veridin's eyes widened hearing that word. "Just don't lose yourself. Revenge is a path full of thorns. At the end of that road, if you have no other goals, you'll end up walking right off a cliff. Ver, I know that you don't show all of your cards. You're a lot like the nobles in the capital"
"Commander–"
"I'm not saying whether you're in the right or wrong. Ver, I believe in doing whatever it takes to achieve your goals. I'm sure I taught you that. But know that there will always be someone to stand by you, no matter what you do."
Light glistened in Veridin's wavering eyes. Of course he knew: The man who taught him how to approach the world, and how to appreciate it. He couldn't hide under this man's gaze. He began to walk slowly. "Then, will you be by my side Commander?"
"Of course kiddo. I've been by your side since you showed up on the front lines eight years ago."
"Even if I've been lying to you?"
"Everyone lies. I'm sure you have your reasons. I trust you Veridin. If I had a son, I would have hoped he'd be as smart as you."
"A son huh." Veridin chuckled softly, then turned serious, "Commander… Do you consider me as your son?"
He paused for a moment before placing a hand on top of Veridin's head. "You're the closest thing I have to a son. I want you to live a life that you feel is worth living, Ver. I hope that this war comes to an end in our lifetimes."
"Even if it doesn't, I'll protect you." Veridin glanced to the side. "Commander, may I… Call you by your name just once?"
"Of course. You were the one who insisted on calling me Commander."
Veridin stared down at the ground and whispered softly. The name he whispered was lost to the wind, but the two could hear it loud and clear. A faint smile softened his usually sharp features. He looked up at the grand marshal with an unusually relaxed expression. The moment faded when a soldier approached them, leaving words left unsaid.
"Grand Marshal, Sir Veridin, Viscount Brandy and the rest of the soldiers are ready to depart."
"Well, let's head out then." The Commander slapped Veridin on the back and laughed heartily. "I'll be looking forward to you protecting me!"
Veridin shook his head and sighed as he followed. A small, genuine smile flashed across his face when he looked at the commander's back. Together with the reinforcements, they set out for the front lines and the Delos river.