Nikolai rolled between two spirits and sprang back onto his feet, panting for breath. He didn't have time to catch it though. A third spirit lunged at him from behind. Nikolai drove his sword back into the creature and shivered as the spirit wailed, the runes carved upon his blade performing their task. He yanked his sword free and dodged another attack.

    "Let us in," one of the spirits moaned. "We'll make it quick. We'll make it painless. Let us in!"

    "That's not going to happen," Nikolai spat. The creature shrieked and descended upon him. He raised his sword.

    A second set of talons caught his wrist. Blood sprayed and Toska fell from his grasp. Nikolai doubled over with a cry of pain. He barely managed to duck past another attack. The spirits kept coming, blurring in and out of sight. Nikolai stumbled over a tree root and dropped to the ground, coughing as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

    Nikolai fumbled with the hem of his tunic which barely stuck out beneath his haphazardly applied armor. Another pained hiss slipped past his gritted teeth. The spirits were almost upon him. Nikolai ripped a portion of his shirt free and sucked down deep breaths while he bound his injured wrist. He cried out as he pulled it taut, and the spirits dove.

    Nikolai bolted beneath them and flung himself at Toska. His hand closed around the hilt of the sword just as the spirits rounded on him. He whipped the blade up in time to parry another blow.

    The spirit shrieked into his face, pressing Toska closer towards his chest. Nikolai braced his injured hand against the sword and struggled beneath the spirit. The cloth around his wrist was already soaked through and blood dripped down his arm.

    Nikolai clenched his jaw, refusing to give way. The creature screamed once more and the other two spirits slammed into him. Pain spasmed through Nikolai's arm and his wrist buckled. His eyes flew wide as one spirit struck at him. He rolled to the side, but the wraith's talons cleaved through the chainmail guarding his waist. Nikolai swallowed a scream and forced himself to lift his head.

    His gaze landed upon a tangle of tree roots only a few feet away. If he could get inside them, maybe he'd be safe for the remaining minutes until sunrise. They'll buy me a little more time at least, Nikolai thought, already clawing his way towards them.

    He pushed himself to his feet and wrapped an arm around his middle. Blood wet his fingers, but he didn't look at the wound. He was scanning the roots for a way inside them.

    The howling spirits gaze chase. One lashed out at him again, coming close enough that Nikolai felt a gust of air brush his neck. He put on another burst of speed, aiming for a narrow crevice between two of the roots.

    Nikolai began to unfasten his armor, letting pieces fall as he hobbled along. The fit would be tight, if he could even make it at all. He prayed that he could. The spirits lashed out at him again just as he shed his pauldrons.

    Nikolai dropped to the ground and shimmied towards the crevice. He grabbed one of the roots with his uninjured hand and dragged himself through the opening, twisting his torso sideways so that he could fit. Nikolai receded deeper into the roots until his back pressed against the tree.

    The enraged spirits clawed at the outer layer of roots, but couldn't seem to reach him. Nikolai leaned his head back against the tree and gulped down uneven breaths. Hot pain pulsed from his side and his wrist was throbbing. The blood flow from his wrist had slowed, but his side was still damp. Nikolai applied pressure with his arm again, grunting with discomfort.

    Beyond the cage of roots protecting him, the first rays of dawn filtered through the crimson treetops. Nikolai went rigid. The spirits hadn't left yet. They were still tearing away at the roots. Wood splintered and talons reached through the roots. Nikolai's heart pounded against his chest, loud enough that he could barely hear the shrieks of the wraiths.

    A talon stretched towards his face, growing closer with each thump of his heart. Nikolai couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. He couldn't move at all. The talon drew nearer still, then froze. Nikolai managed to peer around it. Something was happening to the spirits.

    Their ghostly decomposed forms were solidifying into a glassy texture. Darkness swirled through their chests and stars lit up their skin. The spirits faded into red mist which took on a golden sheen.

    Nikolai blinked rapidly, gawking at the beautiful creatures before him. They were staring at themselves as well. "Warmth," one of them whispered.

    "I hear you," said another.

    "We are...freed," realized the third. All three spirits burst into joyful laughter as their bodies faded from view.

    Nikolai remained seated within the roots, his head spinning with confusion. He blinked again, the world distorting before his eyes. "Or blood loss," he groaned, pushing himself onto his knees.

    He crawled out of the roots and splayed out across the ground, still clutching his wounded side. Nikolai rolled onto his back and measured his breaths, attempting to ease his dizziness.

    Keeping his eyes closed, he tore another strip of fabric off his shirt and managed to bind it around his waist. Blood seeped into the material, but no longer dripped down his side. He lay still for a few minutes longer while he finally caught his breath.

    Approaching footsteps soon caught his attention. "Giving up already, Arlov?" Volya called. "You look like shit."

    Nikolai sat up begrudgingly and grabbed the discarded pauldron closest to him. "You can't exactly blame me, can you?"

    "I suppose not," Vadik Kamenev said, emerging from the trees behind Volya. "Not every participating Knight is qualified for these challenges."

    Nikolai swallowed a sharp retort and instead asked, "Did either of you notice anything strange happening to the spirits?"

    "We did," Volya answered.

    "You know what I think?" Vadik stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I think someone here is cheating. We have a Mage in our midst."

    "Mages hold no power over the dead," Nikolai pointed out.

    "Mages have broken the natural order of things before. What's to stop them from doing it again?" Vadik strode off without another word, leaving Nikolai alone with Volya.

    "Can you make it out of the forest on your own?" Volya asked.

    That caught Nikolai by surprise. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

    "Good. Here." Volya tossed a roll of clean bandages to him. Nikolai caught them, but didn't bother thanking his brother. Volya followed after Vadik.

    "Maybe he's not a complete ass," Nikolai murmured to himself. "At least, to everyone but me." He unrolled the bandages and set to work fixing himself up.

•༻᯽༺•

    Nastasia barely managed to keep her eyes open as she saddled Moxie once again. The horns of Ulrik were still booming, announcing the end of the first challenge. She still wasn't certain how she'd managed to survive, much less help the spirits who haunted the Rodt Woods.

    She'd only been attacked twice after freeing the first spirit, and she'd been saved by other freed spirits coming to help their kin. It had been an amazing sight to witness.

    She repeatedly found herself wondering if her awe towards the spirits was the same awe her subjects felt towards her. The thought was almost surreal, so she tried not to dwell on it for long. Nastasia tightened the cinch around Moxie's belly and straightened with a weary sigh. Every inch of her body ached and she was covered with nicks and bruises.

    Still, it could be worse, she supposed. At least I'm not dead. I wonder if the other Knights can say the same.

    Nastasia mounted Moxie and began riding south. It wasn't long before she came across other Knights leaving the Woods. All of them bore injuries of some sort. Many were just surface wounds, while others had suffered deeper blows. Nastasia spotted Sir Arlov and her mouth curled into a frown.

    He was hunched over in his seat, one hand laying limp across the swell of the saddle while the other lightly gripped the reins. His limp hand was wrapped tightly with bloodstained bandages and there was a patch on his side where his tunic was coated with a dry rust colored liquid. His armor had been tied together and slung over his horse's haunches, likely so he didn't have to burden himself with wearing it.

    I hope he's all right, she thought. That wound on his side doesn't look good. Guilt twinged through her. These men shouldn't be competing in deadly competitions for my hand.

    But what could be done? The tournament had already begun and she couldn't speak out without revealing herself, not that it would have mattered anyway. All she could do was help where she could and pray she'd figure out whatever her purpose was meant to be.

    The city horns ceased blowing within the first hour of them leaving the forest and the afternoon crawled by as the Knights rode on towards Ulrik. Nastasia was relieved to see that their numbers hadn't diminished, though their enthusiasm had. The Knights spoke sparingly, and for the most part, seemed content to ride in silence. She didn't mind it herself. The less inclined the others were to talk to her, the better.

    Darkness had already begun to fall by the time the walls of the city were in view. The gates remained open and a crowd was gathered to greet the Knights. Nastasia dismounted with the rest of the Knights upon reaching the courtyard of Kobmand Hall. She attempted to lead Moxie away from the group, but the crowd was pressed too close. She couldn't squeeze past the Knights and there was no way she'd get through the citizens.

    "Knights, call out your names as you come by!" Lord Anton had to shout to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "We need to know who made it back."

    Dread washed through Nastasia and she wracked her brain for ideas. I can't speak or they'll recognize my voice. There's no way I can pass myself off as a man, and what name could I even give them? Panic seized her chest. Nastasia spread a palm against Moxie's neck, hoping to ground herself. I can't be discovered already!

    The Knights were moving, pushing her towards the gathered rulers. Faster and faster her anxious breaths came, yet she gasped as if she wasn't breathing at all. Nastasia found herself standing before the rulers all too soon. "What's your name?" Lord Anton asked. "Where do you hail from?"

    Nastasia gulped, her mouth running dry. Come on, think.

    "We don't have time for this," Emperor Kazimir griped. "Spit it out and move along. There are injured men here."

    Nastasia glanced at her parents. Gavriil and Serafima were eyeing her warily. As was General Nikita, who stood at their side. "I don't recall seeing you at the banquet," King Wymond of Eldon said, shouldering his way forward. "Who are you and where are you from?"

    Still, Nastasia did not reply. They're going to arrest me, she thought. I'm going to be discovered. What can I do? Come on. I have to think of something!

    "If you cannot tell us who you are, I'm afraid we're going to have to detain you until we're certain you're even meant to be here," Lord Anton said. He snapped his fingers and guards approached.

    "Father," a young woman interrupted. She appeared at Lord Anton's side, resting a hand on his shoulder. "This isn't necessary. I'm sure our mysterious Knight has a reason for remaining silent. Perhaps it would be wise to leave his identity a secret. Everyone loves a good surprise. I'm certain Princess Nastasia would enjoy the secrecy. After all, is it not fair that at least one Knight should be a stranger to us since almost all of them are strangers to her?"

    Nastasia gazed at the woman in surprise. Lord Anton inclined his head after a moment's consideration. "Very well. Off you go, Silent Knight."

    Nastasia bowed to him and led Moxie away. She didn't dare look back at the woman or at any of the other Knights. She just hurried to the stable, and once Moxie was cared for, vanished to her tent in the servant's sector of the courtyard.