After recovering from the shock of the nightmare that had visited him, Gabriel began pacing around his small single room. The full moon hung high, flooding his room with light, brighter than a dozen candles.
His quarters were a small, shabby single room located at the top of a tavern. It consisted of a rotting bedframe lined with hay and a blanket, a desk with a single candle, a whetstone and some oil, books, and notes systematically placed over it and an uncomfortable chair. On the chair, folded were his only pair of trousers and his tunic.
Gabriel's 2 beat-up swords leaned against the wall next to the door, with his leather breastplate and leather potion bottle belt resting on top of them. Wrapped around one of the sword's handles was a gold medallion with the Paladin order for the church of Mazrion insignia on it.
The door had his hooded robe hooked on the back.
Gabriel quickly discovered the depths of poverty when he was exiled from the Paladin order's academy. Each day was a choice. Eat or sleep with a roof over his head. He could never afford both.
The only reason he can afford this room now is that he stumbled upon someone else's kill. A rare monster's corpse, and the bounty he got from it, 4 silver coins, was enough to keep a roof over his head for four weeks and feed himself for 2.
He stopped in the centre of his room. His heart was still racing.
"Four years, and I still wake up drenched in sweat."
"Four years and I still have no answers."
He searched the cramped room.
Gabriel walked over to his two swords, grabbed them, and took them over to the desk. He placed the books and the notes from the desk onto his bed and unsheathed his blades to begin their daily maintenance. This always calmed him down.
Whilst sharpening the blade of one, he heard a voice in his head. "A Paladin's blade should never dull." It was a memory of Master Arthur. Every morning before breakfast, he used to make all the students clean, sharpen and perform maintenance on their swords.
Gabriel still does this every morning, and that same sentence plays on a loop in his skull whilst he's doing it.
After finishing the maintenance and sharpening of the first sword, he began on the second one.
The words still looped in his mind. "A Paladin's blade should never be dull."
Gabriel looked at the hilt of his sword and saw the Paladin insignia on the medallion.
He stopped instantly.
"Why do I still have this?"
"They abandoned me"
Anger began to build in him again.
"Exiled me"
Gabriel unwrapped the pendant from the handle and threw it against the wall.
The medallion struck the wall with a dull clang and fell onto his bed.
He stared at the medallion lying there. He almost reached for it, then turned back to the blade instead.
He finished the maintenance of the second sword and placed them both back in their spot. Lent up against the wall with the leather breastplate and potions belt on top of them.
His heartbeat had finally slowed, but the room felt no less cold.
After finishing his maintenance, the sun finally rose.
The sound of birds chirping began to echo in his room.
Gabriel rushed to get his trousers on.
Each morning at sunrise, the tavern's slave girls replaced the old, stagnant water with a fresh draw from the well. This communal bucket was used for various things. People would wash themselves, water their horses, or simply drink it.
The thought of various people using the water disgusted him. Even though he was now classed as poor, worse than poor in fact. One step higher than being a slave. He still had his dignity.
Gabriel flew downstairs and out of the exit of the tavern.
He stood next to the communal bucket, staring, waiting for the two slave girls to finish filling it up from the well located ten metres away.
"He stands there every morning", the tall slave girl scoffed
"Don't look into his eyes, I heard one of the adventurers say he has demon eyes", the other retorted.
"Oh no, I looked. What's going to happen? Did they say what to do if you looked?"
"No, quickly empty the last bucket, then we will go and ask Ma'am".
Gabriel stood there staring. The cold northern wind was slamming against his body, but he showed no signs of being cold.
He had heard everything the two slave girls had said. He still just stood staring.
When he had first changed, he pleaded with every ounce of his being with people that he wasn't a demon, but nobody seemed to listen to his pleas. Not even the church.
Now he doesn't even try.
Gabriel watched intently as the slave girls retreated into the tavern.
He scanned the area to be sure no one was around before pulling his tunic over his head. Instantly, cold air brushed against the skin he was trying to keep hidden.
Next to the communal "bath" was an empty bucket. Gabriel used this to scoop out some water. He hunched forward to try to keep the water from soaking his trousers.
He then dumped the contents of the bucket over his head. Saints, that's cold he shouted inwardly. Showing no reaction on the surface, the cold water stung as it hit his skin. He threw the bucket to the floor and began scooping water with his hands and using them to wash his body.
It was over in 20 seconds.
Gabriel stood for a moment, water running down his face, steam rising faintly. He stared into the sky blankly,
When he finally snapped back to reality, he grabbed his tunic and pulled it back on. The wet cloth was clinging to his skin. He rushed back into the tavern and into his room.
He fastened his breastplate and belt, slung his swords onto his back, one resting against each shoulder in an X formation, hilts within easy reach.
He grabbed his robe and placed it on. Securing the fastener around his neck so it wouldn't fall off.
Gabriel had created two holes perfectly in the back of his robe so the hilts of his swords could poke through. This was a trick he picked up from a high-ranking Commander who dual-wielded swords like him.
Although each of the seven churches had roughly 20 Paladin knights, only 3 he knew used two blades in combat. As Paladins relied on both swords and magic, two swords made using magic were more difficult.
He picked up the gold medallion from his bed. Barely able to look at it, and placed it around his neck.
He was ready for the day. The sun was barely up, but the guild would already be posting contracts.
"Four years of this," he sighed as he left his room.