The two stood across the torn battlefield. Soldiers and warriors gathering behind their leaders. The soldiers limped and held bleeding wounds, while the Sky Warriors were bruised and visibly exhausted. One soldier struggled with a heavily dented helm before finally taking it off and tossing it to the ground, his eye oozing blood. He tightened the grip around the sword, struggling to stand yet still full of fight. But before either side could make a move, the thundering sound of approaching hooves echoed across the riverbank.

  Both Validus and Elder Feather, as well as the followers below them, turned toward the sound as a column of riders emerged from the farther trees. At their head rode a knight with white gleaming armor, its gold trim catching the light of day. His helm was a masterwork of elegant design, rising in clean, noble lines that spoke of authority and purpose. The traditional vision slits were barely visible shadows in the polished metal, and subtle gold inlay work traced patterns across the surface.

  His helm was a masterwork of elegant design—tall and clean, without a single jagged edge or any messy, overly flashy decoration. It was simple yet beautiful, evoking the noble image of a heroic knight. The vision slits were subtle and narrow, blending so smoothly into the polished surface they appeared more like shadows than openings, while delicate gold inlays traced refined patterns across its surface, subtle, but the appearance was nonetheless regal.

  Behind him came two dozen more knights, each bearing the same majestic bearing.

  On their chests and shoulder guards, the symbol of hands offering bread was worked in gold relief. The armor itself was one of medium-weight plates covering vital areas while leaving joints free for movement.

  The lead knight’s commanding voice rang out clearly across the battlefield, “By the authority of the Church of Salvation, this conflict will cease immediately.”

  Validus watched the approaching knights, his annoyance clear on his face. He took a deep breath that barely allowed him to conceal the annoyance. The battle had been exhilarating. A rare moment for the High Sage.

  Yet even with that thought in mind, he was confident that he had been mere moments from delivering a decisive blow. And with that additional thought flowing in his head the annoyance that was building up, suddenly disappeared, he could win at any moment keeping the Elder alive now mattered not. If anything, it would provide future entertainment, and there were other less enjoyable tribes to conquer.

  Not every tribe was as strong as the Sky Children… in fact the River Kiss tribe that he had easily subdued was the norm in the Stormy Isles, neither weak nor strong.

  “Ah, if it isn’t Sir Caelen, Paladin of the 2nd Class,” he called out, his voice carrying a perfectly controlled and calm tone.

  Skyheart winced, clutching his wounded arm as he tried to focus on the approaching figures. “Who are those guys?” he muttered.

  “Chirp chirp!” Sky Child responded perched on Skyhearts head, the birds favorite nest.

  “Huh? So that’s a 2nd Class Paladin?” Skyheart’s eyes widened as an understanding seemed to dawn. “Yes, I see… uh what’s a 2nd Class Paladin?”

  Understanding that one is ignorant is a sort of understanding after all.

  “Chirp, chirp, chirp.”

  “He’s equal in rank to a High Sage.” His gaze moved to the Church of Knowledge’s Knight Commander. “And a 3rd Class is equivalent to that rank...”

  “Wait, Sky Child, how do you even know that?”

  “Chirp chirp chirp!”

  “What do you mean you pay attention to the teachers better than me!” Skyheart protested, wincing as the movement aggravated his injuries.

  Sir Caelen’s voice continued loudly. “Validus! You have been told to cease this crusade of yours! Not only by our order, but even by your very own. The Churches will discuss your proposal in the central region. Now pull back, or face us!”

  Elder Feather felt a wave of relief wash over her exhausted form. She’d suspected Validus lacked broad Church support, but to learn that even his own hierarchy opposed him—the man truly was operating on pure ambition. Regardless she was glad to know it was limited to him and his followers.

  Validus let his gaze sweep across his assembled forces, then released a soft chuckle. “Of course. Enough damage has been done today, and I would not dream of fighting so many paladins—warriors who are just as mighty as our own knights.” His orange eyes landing on Elder Feather. “We shall leave... until we meet again, Sky Children tribe.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The Church of Knowledge forces began their withdrawal. Wounded knights supported each other, some limping heavily as they made their way back.

  Elder Feather watched them go, her weathered hands still trembling slightly from the battle’s aftermath. What did the future hold when men like Validus moved so boldly against established orders?

  This was not over, and if she had the power to do so, she would end the man where he stood now, even if it cost her life. But with the paladins of the church of salvation around trying to end the fight, no even without them, Valdius’s knight commander had not truly made a move even if he did fight in the battle his steps showed no fatigue or injury. She would not be able to kill Validus, not as long as the knight lived.

  Sir Caelen dismounted with fluid grace, his paladins following suit. “Go and help care for the wounded,” he commanded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Secure the River Kiss tribe first,” the captain of the knights under the command of the paladins ordered, organizing his men.

  Several knights in white armor moved toward the distant area where the captured tribespeople had been kept under guard. The Church of Knowledge soldiers, already in retreat, offered no resistance as the knights freed their prisoners.

  As the River Kiss tribe members were brought safely away from the abandoned camp, paladins in white and gold began tending to the wounded scattered across the battlefield. One by one, silver light glowed from individual paladins’ hands as they knelt beside injured Sky Warriors, carefully healing cuts and broken bones.

  Sir Caelen approached Elder Feather, striking his chest in formal salute. “Elder Feather, forgive us for our late arrival. Please, allow me to heal your wounds.”

  Silver light flowed from the paladin’s hands as he began tending to her injuries. Minor cuts visibly shrinking. Elder Feather nodded her thanks. “He is truly a dangerous man. Very few who use the art of Quill can reach such mastery below the age of ninety, yet he has not only achieved it at his young age but also holds such command over combat and weaponry.”

  Sir Caelen’s expression grew grave as he worked. “He is also a political genius—the youngest High Sage in history. He is only thirty-eight, if you would believe it. As you well know being one yourself but those who wield the power of quill live longer than those who do not, yet perhaps what you don’t know is that Church Sages have extended lifespans. Living until the late hundreds is not uncommon for us who wield Silverquill.”

  Sir Caelen suddenly paused in his healing, his silver light flickering as his concentration wavered.

  “Is there something you’d like to ask of me, Paladin?” Elder Feather inquired after watching a few more of her wounds disappear under his ministrations.

  “Yes, you see... Validus has a terrible hatred for the Netherquill Tribes. It matters not if they are from a tribe of good or bad reputation—as long as they hold the power of Netherquill, he considers them...” Sir Caelen’s voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping into his tone. “I don’t know what drives it, to be honest.” He paused longer and gave a weary sigh.

  “We saved a surviving member of a Netherquill tribe destroyed recently—the Soft Spoken tribe. The spirits they communed with whispered good fortune for any village that stayed near them. Yet the tribe suffered Validus’s wrath nonetheless.” His healing light resumed, but his voice grew heavy with purpose. “I would like to ask you to take the child in, and give word to any Netherquill tribes you know. From my understanding, Quill tribes have ways of communicating among one another?”

  Elder Feather let out a knowing laugh. “It’s nothing complicated, Paladin. Quill tribes simply trust each other more than outsiders, and everyone knows someone who knows someone else. While I don’t personally know any Netherquill tribes, I do know an Emberquill tribe that might have connections. I’ll send word, though it might take a while.”

  She shifted slightly as his healing continued. “You see, Quill tribes keep to themselves mostly and are quite territorial. Unless there are formal pacts or alliances, most tribes aren’t located near each other. It could take several days just to get word through the network, and even longer for a response.”

  Her expression grew more serious. “Netherquill tribes are even more withdrawn than the rest of us, and for good reason. The dangerous nature of their power makes them cautious about contact with others. It truly is easy to mistake a spirit for a demon when you’re unfamiliar with their practices. Even they themselves sometimes intend to summon a spirit but summon a demon instead, which is why their elders won't commonly allow the untrained to leave the immediate tribe without supervision.”

  Taking a deep breath, Feather continued. “Though in truth sometimes beyond contracts with otherworldly entities, such as spirits they do contract with demons if they’re desperate enough. Such practice is not taken lightly and must be approved by all elders in their tribes of course.”

  Elder Feather paused in her explanation, then let out a warm laugh. “Forgive an old woman—we do love to chatter sometimes. I’m sure you already know most of this.”

  Sir Caelen nodded softly, his helm gleaming. “Yes, but these were lessons I learned during my paladin training more than thirty years ago. Refreshing my knowledge is always beneficial, so thank you, Elder. Your perspective is invaluable.”

  She chuckled softly, appreciating the courtesy. “Well then, bring the child to me when you’re ready. We’ll see what we can do to help them find a safe place among their own people.”

  Sir Caelen nodded solemnly. “I will arrange for their transport within the day. Thank you, Elder Feather. Your kindness in this matter will not be forgotten.”

  As the silver healing light continued its work, Elder Feather gazed toward the horizon where Validus had disappeared, wondering what storms the future would bring.