The Party

Mikhail Kethrel came out of Peredhel with a thesis to finish. Aldo came out of Galderia wearing other people’s faces. Koa Attila came in off the road with a greatsword, a shield and a horse of his own. None of the three set out to belong to anything, and the band they eventually put a name to is a separate matter, kept as the Valiant Few.

The three stand here, and so does whatever has become an extension of them rather than of the world they move through. That distinction does real work. A councilor who votes their way, a smith who takes their commissions, a captain who will carry them for a fee: those are people the company knows, and they stand with the rest of the people the company knows. Nightstorm is not one of those. Koa found her at night in a storm, trained her himself, and has ridden her ever since; the horse answers to nobody else and has no interest of her own to serve.

The same test applies to what the three carry as well as to who rides with them. When mending Aldo’s soul back into his body took more than one mortal could bear, Nancáro put a piece of himself into all three at once, and they have been bound at that level since, for as long as they exist rather than for as long as they live. It did not happen to the company. It happened to the three of them.