Niklaus: Northkind Mage

 

They walked until nightfall, and just reached the most northern border of Tannika when they stopped to make camp. They hadn't spoken for a time—Niklaus had been thinking about what the thief had said and it still puzzled him though he wouldn't bring it up again.

The area in which they made camp was lightly dusted with snow, but curiously green grass poked out from the flakes. Roger started a fire and they ate in silence, sharing bread and crackers, surrounded by the night sounds of a nearby forest of tall green trees. The air was warmer here, but comfortably cool compared to the harsh cold of his homeland. Already he could see the difference in the land around him. It was beautiful but different. They hadn't met a soul along the way, which was for the best. He had no wish to explain his presence until they got to the college.

"How far is… what did you call it again?"

"King's Town. A few days journey eastward." Roger cleared his throat and looked across the fire at him. "I wouldn't be so free with who you are here."

"Is this about my name again?"

"Something simpler maybe. It doesn't have to be so different just less… Northern."

"Sjyla used to call me Nick."

The thief briefly narrowed his eyes, a curious little smile on his lips. "Who's that?"

"A childhood friend," he said, and then added under his breath sadly, "Not a friend anymore."

"Oh," Roger seemed disappointed but Niklaus couldn't guess why. "I thought there would be a story there."

"What's there to tell? As children we were friendly enough I suppose but she, like the others, turned against me once they found out what I was."

"So other than your father, you've been alone all this time?" Niklaus had thought that was obvious, but didn't say as much. He had no wish to discuss the prejudices of the people of his village any longer. It was painful to talk about. "I can't imagine…"

"You've been on your own," he countered, confused, "You said you ran from your mother as soon as you had the chance."

"But didn't you have … I don't know… desires?"

"For a better life, perhaps, but I dealt with what I was given, having little choice." Roger didn't look satisfied with that answer. "Is that not what you meant?"

"No." The thief laughed, smiling across the fire at him.

Niklaus narrowed his eyes at him; what else could he have meant by it? He cocked his head, watching that odd smirk on his face. It took a moment, but when he realized what he was talking about he had to hide his face.

"Ohh…" he said irritably as the realization dawned. "Do you actually think…?" He shifted uncomfortably, face reddening. "I—I've never…but that doesn't matter, does it? I'm sure it never crossed anyone's mind to—to… you know!" The thief gave him an incredulous look which Niklaus studiously ignored. "And what if my magic were to show itself during—?" Roger said nothing, merely grinning at him as he floundered desperately for words. "That nickname is as far as anyone's gotten." And Niklaus stopped there, too humiliated to continue. He couldn't believe he had been tricked into discussing it!

"Such a shame." The thief seemed far too amused by his discomfort for his liking, but didn't seem put off by what he had said, or surprised. "Nick then, if you don't mind." He looked as if he enjoyed saying it. "It sort of fits actually. You should also learn the language here, if you can."

"How am I to do that?"

"I can teach you. It's not hard." Roger shrugged. "And it's easier on the ears than your guttural speak," he added teasingly.

Niklaus snorted but wasn't offended; he was thankful Roger had changed the subject though the effects of it seemed to last. He spent the rest of the night before sleep mimicking the thief's words and listening to their explanations. They continued in this fashion the next morning as they set off eastward along their journey.

"Now it sounds like you're making fun of me," the thief protested.

"That is how you said it," Niklaus defended himself, parroting Roger's words in his accent. "I'm repeat-ting you exact-ly."

"There you go again!" Roger acted affronted, but he could tell by his tone he was only jesting, which was all the thief seemed to do, really. When it was about little things such as this, Niklaus didn't mind.

"You speak funny. Don't hold it against me."

"There are other things I could think of to hold against you," he said cryptically, but Niklaus didn't know what he meant. The thief was very odd, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly. Perhaps it was everything; he'd never met anyone like him.

They had walked for what seemed like miles before they finally reached what looked like a well-travelled dirt road. Tracks wove on its surface, made from countless heavy wagons no doubt. They took it and continued eastward for some time until they had to stop again, as Niklaus' leg was bothering him too badly to continue.

They made camp not far from the edge of the road and Roger dug through Niklaus' pack, pulling out the gifts they had received from the Lady. "Ah, I had forgotten all about these."

"So had I. Can we open them now?"

"She's too far away to offend," the thief said and handed his over.

Niklaus removed the shiny black cloth surrounding it and gave it a confused look. It was a small amulet carved out of bone, a sun carved on the pendant. "What does it mean?"

Roger sat next to him and peered down at it. "Looks like the thing she had on her tent. I may have switched them; I think this one is for you." He handed him a small bottle and Niklaus gave him the amulet.

"What's this?" He was apprehensive to uncork it; it could be anything. "Curious. A label or instructions would have helped."

"A potion? Drink it and find out."

"I think I've had enough mystery liquids," Niklaus protested and simply stuffed the bottle in his pocket.

"I doubt it's troublesome, given who gave it to you," Roger said and nudged him in the side. "I think she rather liked you."

"Hmmph," he grunted; that had surely been a switch from what he had been used to. "Whatever it is it can wait."

They were distracted from their gifts by a familiar looking traveler along the road who veered off her path to join them at their camp. Once she got closer, Niklaus was sure he remembered her from their time in the hold. She was dressed for hunting, with a large bow on her back, a sling of bone tipped arrows over her shoulder. Her long white blonde hair was taken up in a bun at the base of her neck, away from her face. She waved to them as she came toward them, showing that her hands were empty.

Niklaus squinted at her. "Haven't we met?"

Roger scowled at the intruder as she introduced herself again.

"I'm Athalla, if you recall." She bowed her head humbly. "I've left my people to join you."

"We don't need your aid, thanks," the thief said tersely, "Or your company."

"Judging by your friend's tracks he's injured and you could use my aid." She didn't return his harsh tone, but her face showed she was unnerved by it.

"You're welcome to join us at camp," Niklaus said quickly and Roger frowned deeply in his direction. "…but it's an old injury. You needn't trouble yourself."

"You're very kind," she said and joined them at their fire. "You're both either brave or foolish to travel this land. These are dangerous times."

"We haven't had any trouble," Roger said. "Until now."

She eyed the thief suspiciously. "That is surprising considering."

Niklaus turned his attention to her. "Considering what?"

"There's a war going on, though by the looks of things it's still contained in the south. Tannika isn't ruled by kind men."

"We haven't seen any evidence of that, woman." Niklaus didn't understand why the thief was being so rude to her. He gave Roger a warning look but he pressed on. "You can keep your prejudice to yourself."

"Do not think me prejudice," Athalla amended, holding her hands up defensively. "There are some humans like your friend here that are true, but there are many more who are not. As is my experience."

"Talk of war worries me." In truth it sent a shiver up Niklaus' spine.

"I didn't take you for a warrior when we first met. When I heard you had magic, I hoped you were different." Athalla spoke warmly to him, ignoring Roger's glare. "We travel in the same direction, I think. I'm trying to reach the capital, same as you. You're going to the university?"

"Your Lady warned against it, but yes."

"Go on, tell her everything!" Roger snapped, throwing a stick on the fire.

"You can trust me, Ro'Kirr. I'm not your enemy."

"Yet you've wedged yourself into our lives…" he muttered. "I'll be back," Roger said to Niklaus and wandered off, perhaps to answer a call of nature.

"Don't mind him," Niklaus said tiredly, in way of apology. "I'm grateful for a friendly face. It's a welcome change."

Athalla smiled tightly, watching the thief go off into the dark. "I hope to be a friend and I am of use, should you need my talents." She gestured to the bow at her back, which she took off and laid beside her. "I'm very sharp with a bow."

"Why'd you leave your people? If that's not a rude question."

"It's a practical one. When my clan was driven out many things were left behind. We were the only clan of Sliverwood that sided with your people, and so had to move north very quickly to hide ourselves. In our flight many things were left behind. I come seeking what was lost."

"That's what I don't understand. I've never heard of your people unless it was nightmarish stories. Having met those of your hold I know now they were just that: stories. Something to scare children into lying awake at night."

She laughed. "I've heard such tales from the Northern hunters that used to trade with us. They were just as surprised to find us congenial." Her smile vanished and she stared off into the fire as she continued. "Tannikans resent the Sliverwood, regardless of how eager we were to share our land and knowledge with them."

"That's… hard to believe," Niklaus said, watching her carefully. His time with the elves had been pleasant, until that last night with the Sunvine liqueur, which had been his own fault, really. "I haven't met any Tannikans yet, but I can't imagine having met the Sliverwood, resenting them for any reason."

"You're kind to say so," she said sadly. "But if they are not at war with themselves they're at war with us, for whatever reason they choose to justify it."

"You make them sound like monsters."

"What lies is she spewing now?" Roger said, returning from the shadows to join them once more.

"You could try to be cordial," Niklaus pleaded but the thief only frowned at him. He sighed and turned his attention back to the elf woman. "Why do they resent your people?"

"I'm sure Ceraph told you the university was a bad idea, that men think they are able to teach themselves?" Roger snorted derisively at these words but Athalla ignored this and went on, "The story goes that long ago, when humans were first blessed with the gift of magic, our kind called to them to show them how best to wield it. Some could not control their gifts and so were consumed by their magic, letting it rule their minds, which was wrong.

They resented our mentorship and sought their own way, causing much destruction and division within themselves and our people. The university was founded on this idea: that human kind need no other ally but themselves. This was many years ago. I don't know what it's like now, as much time has passed, but from what I've heard that idea has yet to change."

"And you don't think it's high and mighty of you to think you're better than they are? That they can't go through life without you holding their hands?" Roger spat disdainfully.

"I'm sure that's not what the ancient elves had in mind."

"That's what it sounds like, woman."

Niklaus interjected, changing the subject before the conversation could get any more heated. "So what's the war about?"

"Tangar, I imagine. The Tannikans have been trying to get their hands on it for ages. Our cousins are simple and tribal elves, though they are not helpless. They will fight for our homeland till death I am certain."

"Tangar?" Roger said, laughing. "That's foolish. I doubt a regiment could even make it through the jungle."

Athalla nodded in agreement. "Tangarians are protected by the jungle, and by the Children of Tserrus that grow there. I'm sure the soldiers will be poisoned and eaten were they to try enter Tangar through there."

"I'm sorry…" Niklaus said, confused. "Your cousins?"

"The Tangarians," Athalla explained. "You didn't think all elves look like us, did you?"

He shrugged, "I hadn't met any till I saw your people. I've never even heard of Tangarians."

"You wouldn't," she said simply. "They keep to themselves, as is their way."

"What are they like?"

"Not like us," she said. "They are dark, like the soil there, skin a rich brown, with eyes like night. Rather a pleasure to look at, if you can find one. But I'm sure they would rather not meet a human, Northman or Tannikan. Tangar is the most beautiful part of this world, so they say. Tales of its beauty are still told to our children, but Sliverwood and Tangarian don't get along very well either. We are not allowed in Tangar anymore."

"More politics," Roger groaned in frustration. "And you say men have trouble getting along."

"There are divisions everywhere it seems," she said, glancing at the thief. "There's no reason we three can't find some common ground."

"We have found it. I can't return home because of my curse," Niklaus explained. "Why won't they allow other elves in?"

"Tangar is sacred ground, and years ago we fought with our cousins over it and were exiled. We can never return. They continue some relations with Sliverwood clans, but that is all. There is tentative peace, but crossing the border would break it."

"This is all news to me," he confessed. "In Staatsgard we were very secluded, and never heard much of the rest of the world. Do you think we'll have trouble with this?" He addressed Roger this time, turning his worried expression on his companion.

Roger shrugged and opened a bottle of mead he had stolen from Niklaus' pack, taking a drink before he answered. "If the war's with Tangar it's much too far south to worry about. I don't enjoy politics and we will stay well away from that, Nick, thank you very much." He offered the bottle to Niklaus but he declined. The thief passed it to the elf instead and she accepted gratefully.

Athalla pulled a dead rabbit from her satchel by the ears. "I have meat I could share with you," she said and proceeded to skin and clean the thing in front of them, much to Niklaus' dismay.

Once it was cooked however, he had no complaint eating it and after more talk they rested, sleeping around the campfire. Niklaus' dreams were troubled by the talk of war; he hoped they would not see any of it in the days to come. Restless dreams aside, when he woke he was once again ready to travel the road. There were three of them now, which relieved some of the burden on his heart. He was grateful for their company, and although Roger didn't seem to like Athalla much, they traveled well enough together.

Roger went on teaching him the language, which he had to explain was called King's not Tannikan. Athalla was picking it up faster than he was, however, and it made him jealous how effortless it seemed for her. Elves were surprising, he gathered, and he found himself wondering what Tangarians were like; if they were anything like their Sliverwood cousins. Niklaus supposed he'd never find out, since as Athalla said they kept well away from others, protected by the jungles at Tangar-Tannikan border. She only knew stories about them and had never seen one herself.

She was free with the history of her people, but would not speak much about herself. Roger spoke very little around her, unless it was to teach Niklaus more of the language. It seemed he was jealous of how interested Niklaus was in her tales, but he didn't say as much.

It was while before they met anyone on the road, but the longer they traveled along it, they began to see something of civilization. There were farm houses ahead when they stopped next, and roving herds of sheep which often blocked their path. Shepherds regarded them warily and said nothing when they passed, just watched them curiously before leading their herd along.

They came upon a wagon lead by two chestnut horses which was still a distance away. Niklaus remarked how strange it was, since the wagon was caged, and held many people within. Guards dressed in blue regalia flanked it, face shields hiding their eyes. They had massive swords on their backs, which made Niklaus very anxious.

"What do you suppose this is?" Roger said, as they stopped on a hill well away from the group around the wagon.

"Let's see…" Athalla narrowed her eyes in the distance. "Are those… children?"

Niklaus looked into the distance, but couldn't see as well as she, only that there were armed guards around it, heading further east along the road. "We should keep them ahead of us," he said.

"I agree," Roger said immediately. "Whatever it is, we shouldn't get involved."

Athalla looked at them, surprised, "They're children!" she said, "What are they doing to them?"

"We're not exactly a match for six armed guards with swords as big as those," Roger said, and Niklaus couldn't help but agree. He did wonder why they would cage children and where they were taking them.

"I can take two, maybe three," Athalla said, watching the caravan. "But I'll need help."

"Woman, would you stop and think!" Roger grabbed her hand, which was already reaching for her bow.

"At this distance they wouldn't reach us before at least two fell by my arrows."

"What are we to do with them once we've released them?" Roger protested. "Travel around with a herd of children at our feet? How are we to feed them? Protect them? Would you just release them into the wild here to fend for themselves? We don't even know what they're doing!"

"Niklaus, would you let these children be led to Tserrus knows what in a cage?" Athalla looked to him, her face twisted in anger. Her bow was already in her hands. She was ready to act and none of them knew the situation.

"It's not our business!" Roger knocked the arrow from her hand, "And they could kill us. We're outnumbered!"

"Then we should plan this, if we're going to do it," Niklaus said, trying to ignore Roger's shocked expression. He couldn't ignore that these children obviously needed help, though they were ill equipped to render it. "There's got to be a better way than to attack them openly on the road."

Athalla reluctantly replaced her bow. "Perhaps you're right." She picked up the discarded arrow. "They must stop somewhere. We should track them."

"Couple of daft—all right, fine," the thief relented finally. "If we're doing this, we're doing it quietly." He gave Athalla a hard look. "And we're not getting run through in the process."

"What do you suggest, Ro'Kirr?"

Roger bristled but said nothing about the name. He led them back down the hill, out of sight of the wagon and its guards. "We can follow, but not close. We should wait until they stop for the night if they are inclined to stop, that is."

"With guards on foot? They're wearing heavy armor," Athalla said. "They'll stop."

Niklaus watched them as they began to heatedly argue in Sliverwood. After a moment he had to pull Roger away from her. "Speak so I can understand you!"

The thief sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped, but he allowed Niklaus to try and calm him, though Niklaus was far too nervous to offer suggestions.

"We'll wait for nightfall," he raised his head to glare at the elf woman. "Being a huntress, I assume you can move quickly and silently."

"Of course, and kill just as silently." Athalla's tone amplified the thinly veiled threat.

"Kill them? What are you saying?" Niklaus looked from one to the other, but they were so focused on glaring at each other they didn't favor him with so much as a glance.

"Yes, kill," Roger said determinedly. "We'd have to. If we leave one alive they could recapture their prisoners, or worse come after us and we can't afford that."

Finally the elf woman smiled and nodded in agreement. Niklaus was horrified. He went back up the hill, seeing the wagon in the distance. What was their purpose? How could his companions speak of killing these guards? No doubt they had families, but didn't the children? Couldn't they free them without anyone getting hurt?

Deep in his thoughts, he jumped when Roger put his palm on his back.

"Hey, easy," he said. "I'm guessing you've never done this before." Niklaus let out a laugh that betrayed his nervousness. "Neither have I. I've never had to kill to get anything. I don't know what they're doing with those children, but if we can free them…"

"You agree with us, then?"

"With you. I'll let you agree with the elf; that's your choice."

"She may have acted rashly, but you've been cruel to her from the start without cause."

Roger shrugged as if he didn't care. "You don't have to have a part in this."

"What are we to do with them once they're freed?"

"Plenty of farmhouses around. Suppose they could hide themselves. Who would deny shelter to a child?"

"You would." Niklaus remembered how he had shouted at the crowd of children at Fallahn's hold. He didn't know what he had said, but they had scattered nonetheless. Roger didn't seem to like children very much.

"I don't have shelter. If I did, perhaps I'd let them have it and I would leave."

"You have a strange idea of charity," Niklaus said, watching him in disbelief as the thief shrugged again. He didn't know how much he could help in this situation, given his condition, but he couldn't stand by while his new friends did all the work. "I'll gladly help, but I won't kill anyone."

Roger stared at him silently for a moment, expressionless. Then he said, "I'd rather you didn't." He turned to go back down the hill, but stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at him. "You're not what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing at all," Roger said and resumed walking. "Come on. We've got some planning to do."

"Your plan?" the elf asked impatiently once they had rejoined her.

"I'll run ahead of them and try to set something to disable their wagon. They'll have to stop then, maybe even send a couple of guards ahead to get supplies for repairs or a replacement."

"I should do that," Athalla said.

"No, I said that I would. They'd notice a Sliverwood, woman, don't be stupid. I on the other hand would be taken for a just another traveler on the road." Athalla reluctantly nodded and he continued. "Nick, I think it's time to test what you've learned."

"Nick? I thought your name was Niklaus?"

"It is, but Roger thought it gave me away."

Athalla sighed disapprovingly. "You should be proud of your name, and your heritage."

He looked at her curiously; surely she knew that his curse ostracized him from his people, that not even they would claim him despite being a Northman! Niklaus couldn't count how many times he was told that just by breathing he brought shame to his people.

"Your ridiculous notions aside…" Roger interjected, irritated by the interruption. He turned back to Niklaus. "You're our next distraction."

"Me? I don't think I've learned enough of the language to speak with them. What would I say? 'Hello, I'm one of the widely mistrusted Northman, please kill me'?"

"You could try and use that magic of yours. I told you it was prized here. It won't mark you as a friend but they'd understand why you'd seek sanctuary here."

"Roger, I don't know if I can magic anything at will."

"Have you tried?" Athalla asked which was a good point because he hadn't. He had spent his life trying to keep it within.

"I'll do my best." Though he was reluctant to let it loose. It could be dangerous and he didn't wish to hurt anyone.

"That's all I ask," Roger said and clapped him on the shoulder. "Wait until they've been disabled or failing that, just stopped for the night."

"And what am I to do?" Athalla asked eagerly. "What is your plan for me?"

"Use your skills to sneak upon them while they're distracted. I'll join you in the shadows and we'll dispatch them together. One of them must have a key to the wagon."

"I have a fear we're all going to die horribly," Niklaus confessed, already buzzing with nervous energy.

"Have faith, Niklaus," the elf assured him. "We do the honorable thing."

"Let's hope the honorable thing doesn't get us killed," Roger muttered, but quickly changed his tone once he saw his companion's expression. "Try to think… happy thoughts. Consider exaggerating your limp."

"Right, of course…"

The thief laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Just say a few words to them, whatever you can, you've surely learned enough. Just don't set the wagon on fire."

"On fire?" the elf gasped, turning shocked eyes to Niklaus.

"I won't!" Niklaus said immediately, horrified by the idea. "I mean, I will certainly try not to!"

"For the love of—" Athalla was still staring at him, aghast. "You wield flame?"

"I'll be careful…" but he wasn't sure if he could. All he could do was try.

"Please calm yourself!" Roger shouted at her. "If we all do our part perhaps we can get out of this alive." Athalla silenced herself and nodded, but was still clearly unnerved. "I'll go and try to disable the wagon, as I said. You two follow and remember your roles and when you should play them."

Niklaus watched him go, still feeling the elf's wary eyes on him.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "I apologize for my reaction but… fire?"

They continued tracking the wagon, keeping their distance as the afternoon went on. As luck would have it, once dusk arrived the wagon had stopped, one of its wheels cracked and broken. It lay in the middle of the road, just four guards around it this time, not including the driver. And the horses were gone. Perhaps they had sent two for repairs or a replacement on horseback as Roger had predicted.

"I'll leave you to it," Athalla said. "You're not alone. I will be there but unseen, and no doubt so will your friend if we can hold him to his word."

But then she did leave Niklaus alone, heart heavy as he walked toward the broken down wagon and the guards. As he got closer he could hear the guards arguing with the driver, as if he had something to do with it. He could only understand every other word though.

"Be quiet, Hagar and Smythe will return soon enough!" One of them shouted at the others, who were clearly restless about the delay. They noticed Niklaus approaching, and all but one pulled their large swords off their backs, ready to fight.

The leader gestured for his men to hold, though it didn't ease Niklaus' anxiety. He nodded to them hesitantly, his steps less sure the closer he got.

"Much…uh, trouble?" he asked uncertainly. Niklaus was surprised he could remember that much in their language, as nervous as he was.

"It's not obvious? Our fool driver broke a wheel." The leader raised his face shield and looked him up and down. "What's a Northman doing in Tannika?"

Said driver proceeded to mutter expletives Roger hadn't the chance to teach him yet. The children within the caged wagon were silent, though exceptionally dirty. All looked terrified and half-starved, huddled together. Niklaus couldn't help but look over at them and wonder why they would be treated this way.

"Speak, stranger!" the leader commanded, though he still looked confused at his presence.

"Travel alone," Niklaus said in broken King's. "Northman no longer."

"Hmmph, takes all kinds." He turned to the rest. "Set camp! Might as well rest while we wait." To Niklaus he said, "Move along, Northkind. You have no business with us."

"No, please," Niklaus fumbled, taking a step toward the group. "To rest is… good?"

"Shall I run 'im through, sir?" One of the brutes said, advancing to the leader's side.

"No," the leader said after giving Niklaus another once over. "Sounds too stupid to bother with. Let him be… for now."

Niklaus balked, not sure if he understood him correctly. Did he just question his intelligence? He fought to keep his expression grateful and kept his distance as they set camp, steps away from the group. His eyes kept going to the children, whose faces seemed to be pleading with him through the bars. This truly sickened him. What was to become of these younglings if they failed to rescue them?

"That does not concern you, stranger," one of the guards said, and looked ready to kill him just for observing their situation. He held up his hands and was cuffed on the jaw hard enough to draw blood. Dazed, Niklaus wiped the blood from his lips and sneered up at him. "Eyes to the ground or I swear I will—"

"What did I say, guardsman?" The leader scolded, but made no move to stop him or to apologize for his guard's actions.

The guard spat on the ground near his feet and walked back to the others. Niklaus hoped Athalla and Roger would act soon. He could feel his magic prickling along his skin, intensifying along with his anger. Niklaus was used to this sort of treatment, as his fellow villagers had often chosen violence to show him how little they appreciated his existence, but this was somehow harder to swallow.

Niklaus sat on a nearby rock, grinding his teeth together as he scanned the shadows. He didn't think they would welcome him, but he hadn't expected to be assaulted… at least not right away. He wondered if all Tannikans were like this. Perhaps Athalla was right about these people. As he thought about this, the light began to form in his fingers, and instead of trying to contain it, he focused on it, letting it pool in his hands. It wasn't long until they noticed this, however, and turned their attention back to him.

"What in blazes?" the leader gasped, "Magicka!"

"That's it! Kill the Northkind before this goes any further!"

Niklaus face was twisted in anger, but they all kept their distance, unable to take their eyes of the light he was holding. He stood and threw it at the center of them and it blinded everyone, including himself. He closed his eyes too late, but it was no matter, once released it was out of control, surrounding the entire camp. He was thrown back and landed hard on the ground. Someone was on top of him and he struggled to get away and back on his feet.

But Niklaus was out of breath and weakened from displaying so much. He staggered and fell once more, hearing screams of children and men, and then finally nothing at all as he passed out cold on the ground.