Sunday 24 January 2016

Herald 3 : Pretense

"Have you heard about the Auseri in town recently?"

There were many things wrong with eavesdropping on another's conversation, but Katachi couldn't help but perk his ears for information.

"They were looking for someone, weren't they?"

"Yeah. Those guys look like trouble. Just keep your head down and you'll live longer."

"You too."

They left the fountain hastily when someone called out to purchase some of their wares.

K : (... The Auseri travelled all the way from down South here?)

He wasn't particularly interested in the concept of war, but he knew that war was something Segus attempted to stop. It was a conflict between two ideals that he opposed, just as he was once on the side of the slaves against the slave traders.

If it could simply end, the world would likely not be divided by countries.

But that was a thought too naive to be claimed harmless.

K : (Thinking that they travelled all the way from Auser just makes me thirstier. I should refill my bottle since I'm here already.)

He made haste to the fountain quickly.

*** ***

C : "M- My liege, I'll be in your care."

Sir Charles nervously took a bow at the red-haired girl breathing heavily from a match with a fellow knight. He had his arm twisted beyond what was deemed acceptable and one of his legs were pressed and forced beyond the joint, effectively bleeding and swelling at the joint region.

The poor esquire before him was clearly out of commission for good. Seeing how he took her on first thing at daybreak, he likely missed the other knights who were disjointed and fractured at night. He missed them as well, but it wasn't hard to guess given the many screams and screeches of metal and flesh through the night.

R : "Have you prepared your will, Sir Charles?"

Roberia tightened the wrap around the grip and held her rapier firmly.

C : "En garde."

R : "En garde!"

It wouldn't be a surprise to guess that she had not slept since last night. She had yet to rest or take a break from consecutively beating up the knights who challenged her directly.

But that was, more or less, what he trusted would guide him to victory. Her fatigue was likely building up, and she was worn out from dealing with the many before him.

Even if it were a foolish mistake, it was a mistake he had the obligation to see through to the end.

C : (I can only hope Duke Marcyn's guidance with the axe is enough to pull me through.)

Sir Charles gripped the axe with both hands carefully, holding it slightly higher than usual. Normally, gripping the very base of the axe allowed for the strongest and deepest cut with the blade, but that wasn't his goal here.

C : (A rapier... She's quick, I'll give her that. But the problem isn't the fact that she's quick alone.)

That was why keeping his hands close to the axe's center of gravity was important. It improved his control and allowed a normally sluggish axe to move faster than usual while providing a new means of attacking effectively.

Roberia backed up slowly and ascended the small flight of stairs to her side while training her gaze on him at all times. Axes were heavy, and so swinging them upwards was slightly more difficult than swinging them down. She knew that clearly and repositioned herself such that he would be pressured to move to the level ground alongside her.

But if he approached her with that slow weapon, she would definitely take advantage of that.

It now boiled down to whether he could react fast enough to her strike when he drew closer.

C : (She'll likely use my eyes as a guide for how I'd attack. I should take this to my advantage.)

Sir Charles approached her, with a fierce determination.

He glanced at the hand holding the rapier, but his body and the axe's position threatened to smash Roberia's face with the base of the handle.

He lunged forward, watching the rapier hand carefully so that he could dodge the strike while tracking her face's position using her eyes as a guide to where her face was. If he could dodge the rapier, he would be victorious-

The eyes vanished from his peripheral vision.

C : (She's not reading my eyes?!-)

And before he could even begin to regret his mistake, she had clipped his neck between the rapier's blunt edge and her forearm. With a quick jab to his forearm and a tug, she yanked the axe right out of his hands and onto the floor.

A perfect lockdown  Disarming the opponent and threatening his life with precise movements was a difficult thing to execute without risk, and she had pulled it off.

R : "Lay down, Sir Charles. This is not a fight you can win."

Making her warning clear, she proceeded to stomp on the back of his knees and forced him to kneel, before grabbing his right arm and swinging him to the side of a wall. His back clapped against the bricks, and she kicked off him with her grip on his right arm still tight.

A displeasing pop sound, followed by great agony, followed right after.

C : "Aaaahhh!!!" (My... My shoulder! She dislocated my shoulder instantly! How strong is she?!)

*** ***

Katachi found a sparse amount of gold in the pouch, much to his disappointment.

K : (I don't have much left... Maybe I'll starve this meal and eat the next. If I manage my expenditure carefully, I should last another 3 weeks, hopefully.)

But that was an optimistic view, should that gold be spent solely on food alone.

What of the other expenses like shelter or clothing to replace his rags? The sewing kit from back home and the groundsheet from the Academy would aid to a degree with the cold nights and binding other rags onto his shirt in a patchwork fashion, but what about the off-chance that he had to bribe his way out of rowdy adults?

What about the chances of meeting a bandit who would wait until he was feeble and hungry before arresting it from his grasp?

Three weeks was all he could manage at best, but would the world be kind enough to allow him three weeks of uneventful serenity and peace?

He thought about it carefully, but he had none of the tools to make his journey easier. He didn't have the coin to purchase charms or wooden tablets of the sort to ward off or, at least, reverse his situation when it mattered.

Those foreign spells... He could only hope that he would stumble upon their origins and learn to cast those spells himself in due time, safeguarding himself from harm effectively. But until then, he was like a Sandalwood Mouse exposed on the plains, prey to the menacing hunters of the skies.

He clasped the pouch tightly in his hands and fastened it well before placing it back into his bag.

No matter how frugal he tried to be, his situation was not getting any better.

From the looks of it, he would need to find some means of procuring gold should he desire to travel further. Heading upwards toward Rugnud and Anik was going to need more than what little he now held, not to mention the conversion between the different currencies and the bigger problem of their conflicting languages should he reach Anik.

But, what? What kind of work would reward a ten-year-old with enough income to continue his journey?

Peddling was out of the option. He had nothing on him to sell, and traveling with a merchant would be shady - He couldn't easily trust anyone who was older than him.

Given his already cruel past with the adults in Mielfeud, he had long been naturally defensive against the malice those beasts in human hides held within.

But on the other hand, courier work would be wonderful. Delivering mail and important edicts or packages containing rare ingredients could be useful. The transport of goods meant that he would expose himself to many different elements, which meant he received an equal number of chances to find a Word of Power.

His original destination was in Anik, the country whose language defined the Words of Power, but until he became proficient enough to converse in fluent Anikan it shouldn't be too bad to poke around and earn a living while continuing his quest.

K : (It's decided then. Rugnud it is.)

Katachi resolved himself to his new destination, and checked through his water sacs once more, ensuring they were filled to the brim.

"Jorta! Where are you?"
K : "... ?"

A girl younger than he was sat across the street, idly staring at a spinning top. Her lack of motion caused her figure to blend into the background subtly, but not until she heard the cry of a young boy calling out what seemed to be her name. She seemed to raise her head slightly in panic, and stuffed the top beneath her dress, holding it down while sitting upright with her hands pressing against her knees and the hem.

Had the bystanders missed the act before, they would have thought she was trying to practice being a proper lady. But it was strange - Why would she do that?

*** ***

C : "I surrender. Forgive me for my selfishness, my liege."

The poor knight leaned his body against the wall, trying to fix the dislocation with his free left arm.

R : "Why were you so focused on my rapier, Sir Charles? Did you not expect me to kick or jab you?"

Just hearing that alone made him shudder slightly. Roberia had been watching his eyes, yet his plan failed for some reason?

C : (So she was looking after all...) "I... I thought I should have traced your movement through the direction of your weapon and your eyes."

R : "There's an easier way of predicting your opponents' attacks, Charles. Focus on the shoulders instead of the face - The shoulders will always reveal how they plan on hitting and moving. Beyond a certain slant, you should expect your opponent to throw their weight in a direction, so be ready to shuffle and reposition."

She demonstrated the technique by using her fingers to gesture straight lines that ran shoulder to shoulder while swaying and tilting her body to varying angles.

C : "I see..." (The shoulders, is it? So that's how she tracked my movement. This... This is valuable. Duke Marcyn has never taught me that before.)

F : "Is that all you have to offer him, Roberia?"

As they reviewed the outcome of the spar, a most unfortunate encounter with the King occurred.

R ; "Father...!"

F : "From what I gathered, you have been sparring and decommissioning many of our knights ever since the weekly court adjourned. What do you stand to prove with that, Roberia?"

Roberia got down on her knees and addressed the king in kind.

R : "I wish for Father to reconsider the hasty decision to renounce my rights to the throne."

It seemed too much of a joke for the king to withhold his laughter fully.

R : (Why is he laughing?) "Have I done wrong, Father?"

F : "My dear daughter, what you are doing now is the exact opposite. You are dwindling our forces and increasing the urgency of finding my successor. This defiance is futile, Roberia."

R : (Oh... Oh no. He's right - The more knights I beat down and wound, the less able men we have to defend Rugnud with. I didn't think this far... Isn't this akin to digging my own grave?)

Roberia quickly realized her mistake and ran over to Sir Charles to fix his arm back.

For someone of colossal strength like herself, Charles wasn't sure whether the dislocation or the reattachment was more painful.

C : "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhggh!!"

His arm was alright now, but his psyche would require the console of a woman's touch to tone down Roberia's monstrosity.

R : "I do so only because these men are foolish enough to think they stand a chance against me one-on-one, Father."

F : "They merely wish to prove their strength, Roberia."

That was what she sought all the long, was it not?

R : "Then what of me, Father? Have I not proven my strength from defeating thirty-seven of these knights in a row?"

F : "There is no purpose in a hammer that crushes a thousand rocks if it cannot crush Laevinstone ore. What good is cutting down and defeating a thousand enemies if you cannot beat the champion?"

But even that argument was rebuked by the strongest man in Rugnud.

R : "Each example portrays a different strength, Father. The latter shows an overwhelming crushing power that dominates, and the former shows resilience and durability!"

F : "But for every soldier you fell, for every warrior you crush, you send a wounded man back at best, and an orphan starves and struggles for life at worst. Can you be held responsible for the losses your own men incur, the losses of war we fought hard to reduce? And even so, our enemies are not bound by honor like we are. How will you answer for the champions of Auseri who relentlessly kill and brandish their weapons against us without restraint?"

Fastiel's answer was decisive.

R : (Basically, he wants me to prove absolute strength to him, is it?)
F : "The kind of strength you strive for is not what our people need. If you truly want the throne, come after my head and surpass me, Roberia. Don't play around with these knights who possess neither your resolve nor your skills."

Without any further interest, King Fastiel left the scene having said his piece.

*** ***

When he reached the little girl, he ground his heels against the dirt and slowed to a stop, bringing a small cloud of dust beneath his feet.

"Jorta! Have you seen my spinning top?"

The young boy asked the young Jorta if she had seen the spinning top she hid under her dress.

J : "I have not. I've been sitting here until the wet stain behind my back dries."

"Oh. Alright then. I'll see you later."

A blatant lie.

Katachi couldn't even begin to describe the disgust he felt in his heart.

That lie was told without remorse or even a flinch in her face.

That lie was told by a girl younger than he was.

If someone that young could be stained in such corruption...

K : (Then... What about me?)

... then what surprise would it be for him to be shrouded and covered in that darkness a long time ago?

Was it not possible that he had long fallen into that darkness he sought to destroy?

Was that desire to covet the  Word of Power that hurt no one not the same as the desire the young girl had of the spinning top  A desire of want?

What of the desire to defeat Rekter and claim his Word of Power, then? Was that, too, not a fatal mistake? Had he been slow by a fraction of a second, innocent lives would have been put into peril as a result of their altercation.

Then, what guarantee was there that the risk would never surface once more? What of him, should he face opponents crueler, more merciless, and even greater losses were at stake?

If every Word of Power resulted in that sort of gamble instead of the peaceful resolution that was present from the acquisition of , then that meant there were at least 288 more Words of Power to contest and claim.

But even that, too, was but an optimistic view that was unreliable.

That was not considering the possibilities of being robbed or having to reclaim the lost Words of Power. That was not considering that the encounters between other Scholars were to be left unresolved, that the other Scholars or even himself were to flee and escape from the pursuit, and the damage done during the chase would be insurmountable.

Was it even right to continue on for this cruel, wretched world?

...

He honestly didn't know.

Maybe the quest itself was wrong to begin with.

K : (Perhaps it is best for me to discontinue.)

Katachi packed his equipment and set off quietly on the route once more.