[CW: violence/gore/blood]

Erik had been stretching his arms above his head, having only just reached the main floor of the manor when he heard the sound of shattering glass. Far from surprised after his long service with the duke, Erik dashed outside without hesitation. While other knights ran upstairs, Erik arrived in the courtyard just in time to see a figure drop down from one of the trees and start running.

He took one glance at the broken pane of glass and the moonlight shining off the window before taking off after the figure. He knew Tylin was likely okay, but the fact that worry had been created in his mind fueled his anger–and his anger fueled his legs.

He directed mana to his feet, silencing his footfalls and putting extra distance to each step. His target was fast, but he managed to catch a glimpse of the figure through the trees and bushes every so often. Heading for the wall? I think not.

He guess his target's destination with practiced accuracy. And at the moment that the target slowed to attempt to scurry up the wall, Erik was on him before he could get more than one hand hold.

Erik jumped onto the man's back, arm locking around his throat. As soon as his feet touched soil again, he twisted and threw the assassin head first into the dirt. Stunned, the man coughed and groaned, struggling to get up. But in the time it took for the assassin to prop up on his arms, Erik had drawn his sword and pressed the tip to the man's neck.

The man froze, his dirt-stained and cloth covered face turning slowly until his eyes locked with Erik's. Those eyes widened. "The Angel of D–" His words cut off in a choke as Erik's blade tip drew blood.

Erik grinned, but the expression held no mercy, and the man tried to back away from him. But skuttle as he might, backwards like a crab, Erik's blade followed him and soon he stopped.

"You seem to know of me, as you likely know of the one I serve." Erik pressed the point against the man until it drew blood once again, and the man began to tremble. If the orders on the wind were correct, the man had also just wet himself. "I'm curious," Erik continued. "Just what kind of beast's den did you think you'd walk into when you took this job?"

The man wasn't even a professional assassin, just some sloppy and overconfident man who took the job offered. If he'd been a professional, they wouldn't even be having this conversation. The man would have already activated a kill spell to keep himself from being taken alive.

"I…I…um…don't you need to keep me alive, perhaps for me to tell you who…who hired me?" Erik could see the thoughts and schemes whirling behind the man's eyes, frantically trying to find a way out of his current situation, perhaps even planning on being taken prisoner long enough to think of a way to escape or get on well with his captors.

Erik let his grin fade. His normally serene face darkening at the audacity of the would-be assassin. "No, not really. Who hired you is of no real use to us, so neither are you."

Before the man could do more that game with surprise, Erik used a flick of his wrist and a surge of mana to take the man's head clean off. It rolled, still maintaining it's surprised expression and coming to a stop as the body slumped to the ground.

Erik closed his eyes and swallowed down a frustrated groan as he burned the blood from his blade with a flash of blue mana. Resheathing his sword, he began walking back towards the manor.

He reported the location of the body to a set of knights who were searching around the courtyard for clues. Ignoring the knights' awe-filled faces, he made his way back up the stairs and to the duke’s study.

“Come in,” came the duke’s voice through the door at Erik’s knock.

Erik entered the study. Seeing no one behind the desk or on the sofas, he immediately went to the door that led to the adjoining bedroom. There, he found Tylin sitting on the edge of the bed. He went before his friend and knelt, bowing his head.

“The would-be assassin has been caught, Your Grace. I beheaded him before he managed to climb the wall south of here.” Erik kept his head bowed, frustration making his shoulders rigid. Was there really nothing he could do to better protect his lord and friend?

“Get up, Erik. There’s nothing more you could do.” Tylin knew him so well, it seemed he’d read Erik’s mind. “I take it that it was another random hire?”

Erik lifted his head but didn’t stand, rocking his weight back onto his heel. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Just some greedy man who’d take on anyone for the right amount of gold.” They both knew who was really behind the assassin, but there was never any hard proof. The only thing investigations ever got them were unrelated men taking the fall and dead leads–literally. One investigation had only turned up one dead or missing informant after another. Brendwald was nothing if not thorough. That was one thing that made the recent slip up of Brendwald’s knights visiting–most likely for extortion–Count Milliard’s manor so odd.

Tylin grunted his agreement, but also seemed to think along the same lines as Erik. “So his patterns haven’t changed here, but only in Milliard. This makes me even more curious as to what’s going on between the count and Brendwald.”

Having found a way that he could do something to help, Erik seized the opportunity. “If your informants aren’t able to get close enough, I’ll learn what I can in their place.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can’t owe you a week’s worth of drinks, now can I?” Tylin gave Erik a tired grin.

Erik let his shoulders drop and returned the grin. “Oh, I’ll hold you to that second drink, but as for the rest. I’m volunteering on my own. If we let this out of character behavior go without searching for an opportunity to bring that bastard down a peg or two, then the liquor will only taste dull, won’t it?”

Tylin stood, and Erik finally stood as well. Tylin stepped forward and clapped his hand down on Erik’s shoulder. “Thank you, my friend.”