Cozy :
Yes. Of course I do.
I feel like the sense of originality in writers' works nowadays is waning.
I say this not just as a user of Wattpad, but of Ficwad as well.
Maybe it's because they've not developed as a writer yet, or perhaps they've simply been influenced by the generic bestsellers. Not just in Fantasy, but also in other genres - Romance, Action, Horror, Satire, it's kind-of broad if you look at it that way.
But that is no excuse to abandon your own writing style just to pursue the path they have once walked.
When they write their story, their idea and goal in mind is clear. They want to write this message, they want to show their readers that this is possible, this was what could have been, this is something that probably happened in another world, another reality.
But these blind sheep who pursue after the stars in the sky... They walk the cobble path built and established by others before them, without really knowing why. And when they reach the end of that cobble path, they think to themselves, 'Hmm. Perhaps I can continue this cobble path myself!'
Don't. All roads end for a reason. They are to remind us that there is beauty in transience. It is because something starts (and ends) that makes the journey meaningful. Knowing that the road ends, and knowing that the walk along the cobble path is what's truly important, that is what separates a writer from a fan-fiction author.
Besides, it's not like you have the skills necessary to make the cobble path of the same quality. I've seen children do continuations of a local drama in Singapore on Wattpad, and it is god awful. Somewhere down the path, the only characters that mattered are the two the fanfic writer wanted to bring together. Everyone else was blotted out of the way, blatantly ignored. If they ever re-occurred, their presence was either for a gag or a justification / means of sorts to bring the two characters closer than the original author intended.
At that point, I wasn't exactly sure whether to cough blood, or to laugh. The fanfiction is pitiable, a mere mesh of the author's desires to a) appeal to the original author (how? Does the original author, a 30 or 40-something old *wo*man use Wattpad?) or b) satisfy their own desires.
I'll admit, I have had people ask me, 'Cozy why do you always write sad stories or tragedies' To which I say, that is my means of telling myself the cold truth of reality. Never hope for the best and always plan for the worst. To remind myself, that this is the cold, lonely road I will walk, without any warmth left in my body.
I don't expect everyone to follow my example. In fact, I hope nobody follows my example. I know how self-destructive my behavior is. I am clearly aware of it, and yet I'm typing this calmly, with a stoic look on my face. Kind of creepy and kind of weird, but this clarity is something else, I tell you. And yet, the fact remains - I never expect things to go my way. It never does - Both in my stories, and in my life.
So, how do we indoctrinate the seed of creativity into the people today such that they may start producing original, innovative content?
Let's start by discussing a hypothetical scenario. Cozy transition go!
*** ***
You are a man tasked with the ordeal of retrieving a very specific treasure from a dragon.
Let's not call this dragon Smaug, shall we? Let us call it... Nogard. Because Cozy's naming sense is incredible in the completely wrong direction.
This is the challenge - You, alone with no other men to bring with you except an observer, are sent to recover a heirloom that belongs to the Talfemic royalty - The king's scepter, a symbol of both leadership and humility which may return the country to peace if brought back.
However, Nogard the dragon had taken it from them and hoarded it for himself. Or... Herself. Yeah, let's go with a female dragon this time. Gotta make it lay dragon eggs and turn up a notch on its hostility towards intruders.
You need to take back the scepter. But how will you do that?
Approaching the dragon carelessly = Getting a blast of flames unto your entirety
Sneaking in at night = Same fate as above if it- Ahem, if she ever catches you
Drugging the animals it eats to put it into torpor = Dragon gets suspicious and patrols the caverns, which makes remaining undetected even harder
Attacking the dragon head-on = Suicide
Approaching the dragon carefully = Some form of negotiation is possible, but what will you exchange the scepter for, your life? You have nothing!
Stealing an egg = Risk of getting caught, and success in this task enrages the dragon who proceeds to set ablaze any village or town she happens to fly by. Sure, you can sneak in and retrieve the scepter while she's out raging, but that defeats the purpose of retrieving the scepter to restore peace, doesn't it?
So how will you reach the scepter?
...
*** ***
I don't know about you, but I'll approach this in a few ways.
1) I snuff the dragon out. Block all the entrances and exits it has, and deprive it of oxygen. This option is not possible if she sleeps in a place with an open roof.
2) I gather the poisonous plants in the area, and start a new habitat in the region to change the ecosystem. When the dragon is starved of resource around her and has to fly out quite far for food, I grab the scepter and go back quick.
3) I mess with the dragon. I grab a bucket of mud every afternoon, and every night the dragon sleeps, I dump mud over her. Over and over, again and again, every single night. For every minute she sleeps in ease, I punish her by preventing her from sleeping. It only works when there's an open area to dump mud from, and it's very dangerous, but it will eventually work, and the dragon flies out for a bath.
I then muddy its eggs, and the dragon has to regulate her eggs' temperature again rapidly. Basically, where she thinks she can take it easy (like a housewife who's finished the chores) I give her MORE chores to do~! Mwa-hahahahahah!! Eventually she'll have to become so tired that she can no longer respond to an intruder, I sneak in and then take the scepter.
4) I go in and brush its teeth clean while it's asleep. I then continue this grooming every night on its teeth, back, wings, tail and pretty much her whole body, and the dragon will eventually notice that I've been coming in every night to clean her up. She won't mind my presence, and I keep this up for about 4 months. Then, on a night she doesn't expect, I take the treasure from her and leave. This only works if I can confirm she pretends to sleep to lower the intruder's guard, though.
There are many ways and solutions to obtain the treasure. In fact, profressing your crime after the deed is done is also a possibility, if you are a person of honor.
*** ***
The point I was trying to make above is that writers are special. When you're a writer, you're not in the backseat. You determine so much more than 'just the story' as a writer. I search online, and see this "Make your own story" story makers and I feel like vomiting.
Like, for the love of- Stop with these horrible flash player story makers and actually let the children write a story, why not?
Think about this - When you read the fight scenes in WoP Quest, do you feel motivated to write something of equal caliber? Do you feel the adrenaline from reading the battle alone, like you're learning from the enemy and you're actually part of the fight instead of being a mere observer?
My goal in WoP Quest, as a standard for those whom will come after me... I wish to make a story that innovates the people behind me to write better, more exciting and mind-bending epic fight scenes.
I hope that these fights will inspire people to become even more creative with their fights, and to actually write a good one that is worth the read. Rather than those B-rated movies where the good guy starts beating up the big bad guy with loads of camera shake, or the lame kind where it's just an RPG to end it all, I hope there can genuinely be a truly well-planned battle to go along with the climax. My fights are kind-of short and though they are intense, they are quite underwhelming because of the length, though.
But fret not; It will change as we go along, as we go deeper. Consider everything you'll see in this route as a warm-up, please; You won't be able to handle the really spicy fights like Ian vs. Pierre, or Jullan vs. Pierre, or Katachi vs Roberia, or Katachi vs. Aozu Makoto, Milos Nidzkova vs. Minami, Katachi vs. Jullan, Milos vs. Lubhera, Katachi vs. Kavnel, Ian vs. Bertund, Roberia vs. maddened Byrh, Sgithilth vs. Kavnel, to name a few of the battles coming up.
If you can't prepare yourself for the extremely heated fights to come, you won't be able to make it all the way; Let alone the ultimate climax in Endus Reignum, Katachi vs. Lubhera. That one... Holy shit. That one will, hopefully, have you screaming at the screen "I KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN, HOLY SHIT, KATACHI YOU SUNOVA- HOLY FUCK" and the hype reaches a climax along with the battle.
I hope it's a "I TOTALLY SAW THAT COMING" instead of a "I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING". I like intelligent readers, after all, who can play the guessing game along with me. That doesn't mean I discriminate against readers who can't catch up, though. If you can't catch up, then I suppose you have a while to go before you can imagine amazing fight scenes, but to those who've already seen Katachi for who he is...
Well, kudos to those who do at that point.
Also, it should actually be quite easy to guess Katachi's identity. After Deku Up! and Bael Out!, the side series accompanying the main story for Endus Reignum will be... A true history account.
In that true history, the details of the legend from years, decades, even centuries back, you will see the truth of the world that both explains what happened in the world then, and why the third route is possible.
And...
You will be able to identify the legend that started it all.
Yes - I think the side story account will be extremely interesting. You've seen image power, you'll come to see the Arts in Herald, and then you'll see the third element I have in store for you in the third route.
Here's a hint - On my Facebook, I frequent a page commonly associated with the third element.
Happy guessing.
With love,
Cozy
Saturday 27 December 2014
Thursday 25 December 2014
Messiah 27 : Jail
She could smell it.
The gentle and soothing scent of Jaanthro and Curamel in the air. The vibrant curtains made of a brilliant green velvet, and an unfamiliar, young maid folding garments in the corner of the room.
It was a familiar scene to her.
She had been here often when she was younger.
When she had expressed her desire to visit her friend's home, the guards and escorts would take her and her best friend Cosette to this wonderful place.
Marquis Gracer's humble mansion, where they had spent a good deal of their childhood playing here.
Although Matalpalhallafaelladrapahamo Roberia was indeed a warrior princess, the castle was no place for her to freely roam about and enjoy as she pleased.
The daily combat drills held in the castle, where the squires and knights are to respond to situations immediately in order to hone their combat readiness, meant that even the very halls the servants and maids traversed were commonly riddled with dirt and the clatter of greaves against the stone floor.
To achieve military excellence, the warriors were required to participate in combat at those choke points against the greater knights, an ideal challenge of discipline, stamina and control; They were to engage their wood-wielding superiors with the potential risk of injuring their own people, to follow the orders of their Chief Strategist by the word, and to react to the constantly varying situations accordingly as if they were truly fighting for their lives.
Before Matalpalhallfaelladrapahamo Michael was injured, Roberia remembered the thundering of footsteps and the roars of the soldiers as they clashed.
Before she was asked to participate in the training itself, Roberia was actually quite afraid of the drills that were held in the castle.
She recalled how some of the squires accidentally hurt the maids in the corridor. The sensation of the blood still lingered in her nose, even today. The squires who failed the exercises faced a fearsome punishment, and they had to take responsibility for the ones they injured. Some were forced into debt, and some coerced into marriage. Others who weren't quite as lucky had their rights as squires revoked and their families enslaved for repeat offenders.
Despite how cruel and dangerous it was, Rugnud had indeed produced top-quality knights who have protected the country with their sheer might alone. Even against the other countries where their magi were exemplary, the knights would not falter or wane in the faces of their opponents.
For a long time now, Rugnud had achieved a most enviable peace.
However, though Rugnud had not faced war in almost 200 years, the amount of blood and sweat shed in that castle to perfect their knights was more than enough to make anyone sink into a maddening despair.
It was an extremely grueling training, one that Roberia was almost certain she would fail at from the start.
And yet... Here she lay, breathing, reminiscing, and living.
She had survived... No. She had triumphed over that ordeal.
Along with the many knights who would become great warriors truly worthy of the title 'knight', she had succeeded.
She can't stop.
Not for as long as she draws breath, she will not allow harm to befall this kingdom.
She would not let this country fall to corruption and depravity.
Roberia got up from the comfortable bed, and saw the black hair of the maid, tied into a braid.
Black hair...
The image of Katachi formed in her head immediately.
That silly fool of a boy, who seemed stupid and slow in his actions.
And yet...
She can't bear to hate him.
If her single-mindedness for Rugnud were to be measured by the depth of a well, she was certain that while he focused his respect on everything else except himself, his devotion would be insulted if it were ever compared on an equal level.
Just as he had respected the ants on the road, just as he had respected that blond-haired lady from before by gently pushing her aside, just as he had respected Roberia herself by not taking her life...
He may have completely different values, but she was certain that his respect and love for everything around him was boundless.
If she were a mere well, he would be the vast, endless sea.
He was a faint, but persistent ray that shone out in the darkness.
A fool who reached his hand out slowly, reaching for his goal ever so slowly.
To never betray his own ideals, while moving slowly and carefully, with unnecessary caution.
In a way, she could relate to him completely.
And, the best of all...
He was a fool who made her feel the warmth of having company.
Before she set off on this journey, she had turned cold towards the people in pursuit of her hand, of the status they would receive and brag about, of the wealth and fame and the riches.
But that black-haired boy had showed her the warmth of being respected, of being treated fairly, of being treated as another person.
With her true nature shielded from his eyes, she could see how he honestly cared for her, without ever realizing or bringing up her role as a princess.
A man like him was, if anything, worth endangering her own life to protect.
Her throat was dry, and she needed a drink badly.
But with her raw will, she ignored the roaring heat at the back of her mouth and coughed her words out quickly.
R : "... Take me to the capital now."
"... What?"
R : "Bilkenstury. Take me there. Now."
*** ***
He couldn't really see what was around him.
But, then again, if he could see what was around him in clarity, he would probably wish he didn't.
A musky and foul stench draped the area. Katachi could smell the thick, layering mildew in the cold and humid air, and he felt the ground beneath him rumbling slightly, representing the many things around him.
There was no light.
Not a single source of light could be found. There was no way to truly make out what was around him, except by the breath escaping his mouth and the vibrations around him.
K : (... Not a sign of a draft. There's no ventilation at all... Am I underground?)
Similarities and differences.
It was similar, in a sense, because Katachi had sometimes been tasked by Mother Rinnesfeld to fetch herbs or food for her while she attends to more pressing matters. The feel of the room he was in felt similar to the cellars of the provisions store, and yet... Different.
The cellar of the provisions store had a moldy smell as a result of storing used mops in a corner, thus making the air danke and producing a musty smell.
*Cozy's Notes : 'Danke' is the Middle English form of 'Dank'. I'm thinking that, well, if I plan to use these words that have yet existed, I should use their Middle English variants or something. Yeh*
But the stench here was something else. The fetid odor of sweat draped over the air like a miasma, there was an iron-like smell similar to blood, and it reeked of decay and defecation. The surroundings felt weird, and his own footstep sounded strange in that it echoed back at him rhythmically, so he could guess that wherever he was, it was cramped and compact with many small rooms...
... Like a jail.
The last thing he could remember was that he was slowly lowering Roberia, at that borter. He didn't remember what happened after, but the numbness above his neck implied that someone had struck a blunt blow at the back of his defenseless head.
Had he been arrested?
K : (... I've heard that Rugnud is in bad relations with Ohde... I shouldn't be surprised if I were attacked like that.)
From a logical point of view, the sight of an Ohdean holding a Rugnud citizen in his arms was probably an unsettling sight for the soldiers. The implications of that actions would give the misconception that the citizen would prefer an Ohdean for her spouse over her own countrymen. That could have greatly upset the populace of Rugnud, and could have been considered an indirect attack against Rugnud by Ohde, which would clearly explain the hostility held against him.
K : (... I guess I should have watched myself more. This isn't Findel anymore.)
Of course, his information was right. The tension between Rugnud and Ohde had resolved before he was even born, but for a child who learned of the world from books, his sources of information were destined to reach their limit eventually.
*Cozy's Notes : That may be true, but he's insanely good at countering magic as a result. It's not entirely bad, is it? Katachi has excellent potential as a counter-magus. He can cast any spell he remembers and can counter any spell he recognizes. That only applies if he successfully identifies it, though - Recall the previous Deku Up! on assumed history & true history.*
He can't do much in this darkness.
All he could hope for is to feel around and try to get a sense of his bearings in check.
Katachi reached his hands out and tried to feel the wall, but felt something flat and leathery instead.
"Hands off, buddy. I got's no interest in men."
The hoarse voice that responded from right before him was quite the shock. If there were sufficient light, Katachi's stupefied face would have been a rather hilarious sight to behold.
*Cozy's Notes : As such, I leave it to your imagination as to what his face should look like. God damn it, I've been reading Baka to Test to Shoukanjuu and I'm getting trolly on my own story, gawd dehmnit*
K : "... Sorry. I can't exactly see what's in front of me."
"We got's a conned here, eh? What's you in for?"
He spoke in a rather... strange tone. Katachi wasn't used to someone speaking in such a brash manner, so the accent threw him off by a little. He stumbled backwards and pressed his back against something that felt like iron bars.
K : (... Bars from nowhere... So this is a prison, after all.) "... I was arrested at the borter."
"Tried to smuggle, did you? I feel you. My uncle's done's plenty to warts like you."
That line made him feel uncomfortable, for some reason.
K : (Did he mean to say that his uncle has framed others for misdeeds before?... I've read about Rugnud's guards rewarding people for upholding their role as a vigilant citizen. I suppose that could also be used in a more vulgar way, to earn a small amount to feed your family. The uncle must have it tough... Wait, what's a wart?) "A... A wart?"
"Yeah, wart, keep it down. Else you's next."
K : (Next?)
The crackle that followed after answered his question.
A sound like the flexing of a leather whip upon bare skin resounded through the cells clearly. The anguished scream of a man in great pain could be heard.
K : (... Someone's being whipped... !) "A whip..."
"Yeah. Whips. The whips got's no eyes, see? They hurt guards and us equally."
K : (There's no doubt. This is definitely a prison.)
The whip's crackle only served to affirm that he was currently captured by the Rugnud government.
However, Katachi showed not fear, but remorse.
K : (... Assuming that's true... I shouldn't have given whoever it was a chance to do this. Had they targeted me, based on my appearance?... I should find some way to prove that I'm from Findel. I don't think speaking fluent Findeli at this point's going to save me, if the guard who I talked to didn't argue in my favor.)
He began planning for his own vindication, albeit in a completely wrong direction. But who was to tell him that he was wrong, in that dark room where he had no certainty as to why he was there in the first place?
The gentle and soothing scent of Jaanthro and Curamel in the air. The vibrant curtains made of a brilliant green velvet, and an unfamiliar, young maid folding garments in the corner of the room.
It was a familiar scene to her.
She had been here often when she was younger.
When she had expressed her desire to visit her friend's home, the guards and escorts would take her and her best friend Cosette to this wonderful place.
Marquis Gracer's humble mansion, where they had spent a good deal of their childhood playing here.
Although Matalpalhallafaelladrapahamo Roberia was indeed a warrior princess, the castle was no place for her to freely roam about and enjoy as she pleased.
The daily combat drills held in the castle, where the squires and knights are to respond to situations immediately in order to hone their combat readiness, meant that even the very halls the servants and maids traversed were commonly riddled with dirt and the clatter of greaves against the stone floor.
To achieve military excellence, the warriors were required to participate in combat at those choke points against the greater knights, an ideal challenge of discipline, stamina and control; They were to engage their wood-wielding superiors with the potential risk of injuring their own people, to follow the orders of their Chief Strategist by the word, and to react to the constantly varying situations accordingly as if they were truly fighting for their lives.
Before Matalpalhallfaelladrapahamo Michael was injured, Roberia remembered the thundering of footsteps and the roars of the soldiers as they clashed.
Before she was asked to participate in the training itself, Roberia was actually quite afraid of the drills that were held in the castle.
She recalled how some of the squires accidentally hurt the maids in the corridor. The sensation of the blood still lingered in her nose, even today. The squires who failed the exercises faced a fearsome punishment, and they had to take responsibility for the ones they injured. Some were forced into debt, and some coerced into marriage. Others who weren't quite as lucky had their rights as squires revoked and their families enslaved for repeat offenders.
Despite how cruel and dangerous it was, Rugnud had indeed produced top-quality knights who have protected the country with their sheer might alone. Even against the other countries where their magi were exemplary, the knights would not falter or wane in the faces of their opponents.
For a long time now, Rugnud had achieved a most enviable peace.
However, though Rugnud had not faced war in almost 200 years, the amount of blood and sweat shed in that castle to perfect their knights was more than enough to make anyone sink into a maddening despair.
It was an extremely grueling training, one that Roberia was almost certain she would fail at from the start.
And yet... Here she lay, breathing, reminiscing, and living.
She had survived... No. She had triumphed over that ordeal.
Along with the many knights who would become great warriors truly worthy of the title 'knight', she had succeeded.
She can't stop.
Not for as long as she draws breath, she will not allow harm to befall this kingdom.
She would not let this country fall to corruption and depravity.
Roberia got up from the comfortable bed, and saw the black hair of the maid, tied into a braid.
Black hair...
The image of Katachi formed in her head immediately.
That silly fool of a boy, who seemed stupid and slow in his actions.
And yet...
She can't bear to hate him.
If her single-mindedness for Rugnud were to be measured by the depth of a well, she was certain that while he focused his respect on everything else except himself, his devotion would be insulted if it were ever compared on an equal level.
Just as he had respected the ants on the road, just as he had respected that blond-haired lady from before by gently pushing her aside, just as he had respected Roberia herself by not taking her life...
He may have completely different values, but she was certain that his respect and love for everything around him was boundless.
If she were a mere well, he would be the vast, endless sea.
He was a faint, but persistent ray that shone out in the darkness.
A fool who reached his hand out slowly, reaching for his goal ever so slowly.
To never betray his own ideals, while moving slowly and carefully, with unnecessary caution.
In a way, she could relate to him completely.
And, the best of all...
He was a fool who made her feel the warmth of having company.
Before she set off on this journey, she had turned cold towards the people in pursuit of her hand, of the status they would receive and brag about, of the wealth and fame and the riches.
But that black-haired boy had showed her the warmth of being respected, of being treated fairly, of being treated as another person.
With her true nature shielded from his eyes, she could see how he honestly cared for her, without ever realizing or bringing up her role as a princess.
A man like him was, if anything, worth endangering her own life to protect.
Her throat was dry, and she needed a drink badly.
But with her raw will, she ignored the roaring heat at the back of her mouth and coughed her words out quickly.
R : "... Take me to the capital now."
"... What?"
R : "Bilkenstury. Take me there. Now."
*** ***
He couldn't really see what was around him.
But, then again, if he could see what was around him in clarity, he would probably wish he didn't.
A musky and foul stench draped the area. Katachi could smell the thick, layering mildew in the cold and humid air, and he felt the ground beneath him rumbling slightly, representing the many things around him.
There was no light.
Not a single source of light could be found. There was no way to truly make out what was around him, except by the breath escaping his mouth and the vibrations around him.
K : (... Not a sign of a draft. There's no ventilation at all... Am I underground?)
Similarities and differences.
It was similar, in a sense, because Katachi had sometimes been tasked by Mother Rinnesfeld to fetch herbs or food for her while she attends to more pressing matters. The feel of the room he was in felt similar to the cellars of the provisions store, and yet... Different.
The cellar of the provisions store had a moldy smell as a result of storing used mops in a corner, thus making the air danke and producing a musty smell.
*Cozy's Notes : 'Danke' is the Middle English form of 'Dank'. I'm thinking that, well, if I plan to use these words that have yet existed, I should use their Middle English variants or something. Yeh*
But the stench here was something else. The fetid odor of sweat draped over the air like a miasma, there was an iron-like smell similar to blood, and it reeked of decay and defecation. The surroundings felt weird, and his own footstep sounded strange in that it echoed back at him rhythmically, so he could guess that wherever he was, it was cramped and compact with many small rooms...
... Like a jail.
The last thing he could remember was that he was slowly lowering Roberia, at that borter. He didn't remember what happened after, but the numbness above his neck implied that someone had struck a blunt blow at the back of his defenseless head.
Had he been arrested?
K : (... I've heard that Rugnud is in bad relations with Ohde... I shouldn't be surprised if I were attacked like that.)
From a logical point of view, the sight of an Ohdean holding a Rugnud citizen in his arms was probably an unsettling sight for the soldiers. The implications of that actions would give the misconception that the citizen would prefer an Ohdean for her spouse over her own countrymen. That could have greatly upset the populace of Rugnud, and could have been considered an indirect attack against Rugnud by Ohde, which would clearly explain the hostility held against him.
K : (... I guess I should have watched myself more. This isn't Findel anymore.)
Of course, his information was right. The tension between Rugnud and Ohde had resolved before he was even born, but for a child who learned of the world from books, his sources of information were destined to reach their limit eventually.
*Cozy's Notes : That may be true, but he's insanely good at countering magic as a result. It's not entirely bad, is it? Katachi has excellent potential as a counter-magus. He can cast any spell he remembers and can counter any spell he recognizes. That only applies if he successfully identifies it, though - Recall the previous Deku Up! on assumed history & true history.*
He can't do much in this darkness.
All he could hope for is to feel around and try to get a sense of his bearings in check.
Katachi reached his hands out and tried to feel the wall, but felt something flat and leathery instead.
"Hands off, buddy. I got's no interest in men."
The hoarse voice that responded from right before him was quite the shock. If there were sufficient light, Katachi's stupefied face would have been a rather hilarious sight to behold.
*Cozy's Notes : As such, I leave it to your imagination as to what his face should look like. God damn it, I've been reading Baka to Test to Shoukanjuu and I'm getting trolly on my own story, gawd dehmnit*
K : "... Sorry. I can't exactly see what's in front of me."
"We got's a conned here, eh? What's you in for?"
He spoke in a rather... strange tone. Katachi wasn't used to someone speaking in such a brash manner, so the accent threw him off by a little. He stumbled backwards and pressed his back against something that felt like iron bars.
K : (... Bars from nowhere... So this is a prison, after all.) "... I was arrested at the borter."
"Tried to smuggle, did you? I feel you. My uncle's done's plenty to warts like you."
That line made him feel uncomfortable, for some reason.
K : (Did he mean to say that his uncle has framed others for misdeeds before?... I've read about Rugnud's guards rewarding people for upholding their role as a vigilant citizen. I suppose that could also be used in a more vulgar way, to earn a small amount to feed your family. The uncle must have it tough... Wait, what's a wart?) "A... A wart?"
"Yeah, wart, keep it down. Else you's next."
K : (Next?)
The crackle that followed after answered his question.
A sound like the flexing of a leather whip upon bare skin resounded through the cells clearly. The anguished scream of a man in great pain could be heard.
K : (... Someone's being whipped... !) "A whip..."
"Yeah. Whips. The whips got's no eyes, see? They hurt guards and us equally."
K : (There's no doubt. This is definitely a prison.)
The whip's crackle only served to affirm that he was currently captured by the Rugnud government.
However, Katachi showed not fear, but remorse.
K : (... Assuming that's true... I shouldn't have given whoever it was a chance to do this. Had they targeted me, based on my appearance?... I should find some way to prove that I'm from Findel. I don't think speaking fluent Findeli at this point's going to save me, if the guard who I talked to didn't argue in my favor.)
He began planning for his own vindication, albeit in a completely wrong direction. But who was to tell him that he was wrong, in that dark room where he had no certainty as to why he was there in the first place?
Saturday 20 December 2014
Is he dead?
Cozy :
Nope.
I'm still alive :D And uh... Well, excuse me for my absence these upcoming months.
Y'see, I'm currently in enlistment for the SAF. For these two years, I am to serve my country like every other male citizen in Singapore.
As such... I'm afraid that the progress on this story's only going to slow down even further. It's a shame, a pity, and it's really awful, because I was really looking forward to Katachi's ass getting wiped by Milos- AAARRRGGGHH SPOILERS
Heh. Heheheh.
I really love writing this story. Even though it may remain unread and hidden from the eyes of people around the world (serves me right for using WoP Quest when Skyrim's using it as well.) I still feel that it's important. Their tale must continue, and my hands must never stop moving.
Therefore, though progress is slow, don't be disheartened - There will come a day where I complete this story... Or at least die trying. (Hopefully. I pray I do not die before this is completed.)
*** ***
In other news, well, I've been shouting and screaming my ass off so hard that my voice is changing.
It's a pity. I've always liked my old voice. Now I may have to face a reality where I say goodbye to my old voice forever, since it's a requirement for recruits to scream and respond to their superiors.
That... Upsets me. Just to meaninglessly break your throat for a bunch of men who are in a higher chain of command... Such sadness.
They would have you forgo a potential, a talent for something that could support the country in a social aspect (and thus dissuade attacks) to equip you with a militaristic method of protecting the country.
Think about it from this angle - Japan is now incredibly famous not only for their technological advances (bullet and maglev trains, automatons, water closets installed with an automated bidet, there're all kinds) but they are also admired by countries around the world for their evolving culture - Both in anime, and in actual modern culture.
Let's give a hypothesis that the U.S. attacks Japan because of, say, suspicion - The Japanese, apparently, managed to develop a chain of technology extremely similar to their own, and they suspect foul play / espionage at work.
Japan is attacked, oh no, now the anime fans in America are going to get mad because they would have lost a good source of entertainment. While Japan arms itself up and prepare for the upcoming war, civil strife erupts in the U.S. and the daily life in U.S. changes drastically - Supply lines are cut, resources are scarce, protests of unimaginable circumstances occur and the U.S. have their forces tied down by their own people.
The countries that dominate the business market in the present day are the true deciding factors of victory in today's world. So why is it that taking my voice away to satisfy my superiors helps the country?
Rather, fostering and training my voice to become professional to appeal to the social world... That would give the countries one more reason why they shouldn't invade us. Just as how nobody wants to invade Germany because of their advancements in car technology, our country needs an edge that would make attacking us bad.
I don't mean making someone in the country into a spiritual leader like Tenzin Gyatso or Patriarch Theodore II of Alexandria. A spiritual leader would have the opposite effect in a multi-racial country like ours - It makes people tense, and strife will break out here and there. Terrorists will paint a big red target on them and that only worsens things. It must be something everyone can agree on at a human-to-human level.
It will probably take time for us to discover what it is. This is Singapore's 50th year, after all, and it won't be surprising to see that we have yet established something like this. I don't expect any further wisdom from a 50-year-old government. But until then, I'll have to remain vigilant and figure out a way to protect this home not through deterrence, and not through diplomacy. There must be a way. It exists, and we've seen it from the above examples.
*** ***
... Sometimes, I truly doubt the intelligence of Man. I've read WoP Quest over and over again, countless times. And every time I read it, I think (Wow, this is amazing. All these mind games, these skirmishes, these people fighting... It's like they're truly fighting for their dear life. I wanna fight like that, and I want to die by being punished for a single mistake. It's like Dark Souls, yo. The adrenaline is real.)
And for some obscene reason, I can't seem to find the excitement found within my story in real life. Is this the limitation of humanity? Are we not allowed to explore the wonder found in literature through reality?
That got me thinking. And well, honestly speaking, it got me thinking hard. Real hard.
What if I tried my hand at fiction? No, not fantasy or anything of that sort. (Though it does have that potential.) What if I took on a different stage, and incorporated the beauty of literature to portray real life?
And so, this was born.
http://www.wattpad.com/story/17870598-alas-my-dear-annabelle
Alas, My Dear Annabelle.
If you see this story, don't panic, it's by me. Yes, the guy who wrote WoP Quest is writing something mushy and girly like a chick lit.
Though, I can assure you, you won't feel that it's a chick lit once you read the story far enough. This is not a story about romance. Though it's general fiction, I think people who've read WoP Quest can probably feel a similar vibe coming from this tale.
If you've known me long enough, you should know that I hate my stories to end in happiness.
Happiness is something you give to others. It is fleeting, and ephemeral, something to be passed around, something that comes and goes like the wind. But joy, now... Joy is the cultivation of one's mentality and maturity to become indifferent towards the negative things in life, and in turn become more appreciative of the positive things in life.
Therefore, it is entirely possible for you to have all the joy in the world... But without a shred of happiness.
Happiness is not something that is 'earned'. It runs, it flies, it's like the f-ing Mynahs outside my bunk at Pulau Tekong - They're everywhere, they can't be captured, and they keep you awake all night if you're on light duty and haven't worked out at all to make your body sore. In a sense, they symbolize happiness well. The annoying cries they produce at night before bed is like the utter abundance of happiness all around you, and yet you can never hold it within your palms. A really awkward comparison, I know, but hey, it works.
I want to instill that truth both in WoP Quest, and in AmdA. That is my endgoal in my life, or at least in my time as a writer. I can't think of what else Id become if I don't become a writer. Frankly, the future is a vast, blank canvas, and the only thing on my mind is not about painting my own life, but to use what life I have to paint the lives that could have been.
The lives of men who are not portrayed in society simply because they are a minority. The lives of people who do not get what they deserve, toyed by the cruel hand of Fate.
That is my driving force as a writer - Not to write about some empty criminal fiction story about how the good guys always win in the end, about how bad guys actually don't want to be the bad guys, that kind of thriller fiction is crude. (I got ma eye on ya, John Roswell Camp. You too, f-ing Lucas Davenport.)
My driving force is to paint darkness to enumerate the dying lights in the world. The people who you see in the mortuary, the insignificant names who simply don't matter to you (since you're not related to them) and disappear like the last sparks of fireworks. And yet, they are the ones who have the most interesting stories to tell.
It applies to all my stories. I don't like characters that live long enough to become a protagonist once more in a sequel. (WoP Quest is different - The volumes are different routes, and it's like hitting the reset button, or erasing the stuff on a magnetic toy drawing board. It's not set in stone.)
*** ***
I hate Western action stories for their coincidental applications of the convenient elements around them, and I hate Oriental action stories for giving the characters unfathomable power spikes without reason or purpose.
Messiah will show the Western world the true power of element utilization. (Recall how Katachi outsmarts Rekter in Chapter 21.) Herald will show the Oriental world the definition of a solid base. (Resound through your mind the visualization and actualization that is Image Power.) Endus Reignum will smite both of their cultures, their foundations, and prove once more that their stories are fallacious.
Glory to WoP Quest. Long live WoP Quest.
Now let me see you WoP.
(I know, it's a crude joke, but I've been neglecting it for long enough. Heheh.)
Nope.
I'm still alive :D And uh... Well, excuse me for my absence these upcoming months.
Y'see, I'm currently in enlistment for the SAF. For these two years, I am to serve my country like every other male citizen in Singapore.
As such... I'm afraid that the progress on this story's only going to slow down even further. It's a shame, a pity, and it's really awful, because I was really looking forward to Katachi's ass getting wiped by Milos- AAARRRGGGHH SPOILERS
Heh. Heheheh.
I really love writing this story. Even though it may remain unread and hidden from the eyes of people around the world (serves me right for using WoP Quest when Skyrim's using it as well.) I still feel that it's important. Their tale must continue, and my hands must never stop moving.
Therefore, though progress is slow, don't be disheartened - There will come a day where I complete this story... Or at least die trying. (Hopefully. I pray I do not die before this is completed.)
*** ***
In other news, well, I've been shouting and screaming my ass off so hard that my voice is changing.
It's a pity. I've always liked my old voice. Now I may have to face a reality where I say goodbye to my old voice forever, since it's a requirement for recruits to scream and respond to their superiors.
That... Upsets me. Just to meaninglessly break your throat for a bunch of men who are in a higher chain of command... Such sadness.
They would have you forgo a potential, a talent for something that could support the country in a social aspect (and thus dissuade attacks) to equip you with a militaristic method of protecting the country.
Think about it from this angle - Japan is now incredibly famous not only for their technological advances (bullet and maglev trains, automatons, water closets installed with an automated bidet, there're all kinds) but they are also admired by countries around the world for their evolving culture - Both in anime, and in actual modern culture.
Let's give a hypothesis that the U.S. attacks Japan because of, say, suspicion - The Japanese, apparently, managed to develop a chain of technology extremely similar to their own, and they suspect foul play / espionage at work.
Japan is attacked, oh no, now the anime fans in America are going to get mad because they would have lost a good source of entertainment. While Japan arms itself up and prepare for the upcoming war, civil strife erupts in the U.S. and the daily life in U.S. changes drastically - Supply lines are cut, resources are scarce, protests of unimaginable circumstances occur and the U.S. have their forces tied down by their own people.
The countries that dominate the business market in the present day are the true deciding factors of victory in today's world. So why is it that taking my voice away to satisfy my superiors helps the country?
Rather, fostering and training my voice to become professional to appeal to the social world... That would give the countries one more reason why they shouldn't invade us. Just as how nobody wants to invade Germany because of their advancements in car technology, our country needs an edge that would make attacking us bad.
I don't mean making someone in the country into a spiritual leader like Tenzin Gyatso or Patriarch Theodore II of Alexandria. A spiritual leader would have the opposite effect in a multi-racial country like ours - It makes people tense, and strife will break out here and there. Terrorists will paint a big red target on them and that only worsens things. It must be something everyone can agree on at a human-to-human level.
It will probably take time for us to discover what it is. This is Singapore's 50th year, after all, and it won't be surprising to see that we have yet established something like this. I don't expect any further wisdom from a 50-year-old government. But until then, I'll have to remain vigilant and figure out a way to protect this home not through deterrence, and not through diplomacy. There must be a way. It exists, and we've seen it from the above examples.
*** ***
... Sometimes, I truly doubt the intelligence of Man. I've read WoP Quest over and over again, countless times. And every time I read it, I think (Wow, this is amazing. All these mind games, these skirmishes, these people fighting... It's like they're truly fighting for their dear life. I wanna fight like that, and I want to die by being punished for a single mistake. It's like Dark Souls, yo. The adrenaline is real.)
And for some obscene reason, I can't seem to find the excitement found within my story in real life. Is this the limitation of humanity? Are we not allowed to explore the wonder found in literature through reality?
That got me thinking. And well, honestly speaking, it got me thinking hard. Real hard.
What if I tried my hand at fiction? No, not fantasy or anything of that sort. (Though it does have that potential.) What if I took on a different stage, and incorporated the beauty of literature to portray real life?
And so, this was born.
http://www.wattpad.com/story/17870598-alas-my-dear-annabelle
Alas, My Dear Annabelle.
If you see this story, don't panic, it's by me. Yes, the guy who wrote WoP Quest is writing something mushy and girly like a chick lit.
Though, I can assure you, you won't feel that it's a chick lit once you read the story far enough. This is not a story about romance. Though it's general fiction, I think people who've read WoP Quest can probably feel a similar vibe coming from this tale.
If you've known me long enough, you should know that I hate my stories to end in happiness.
Happiness is something you give to others. It is fleeting, and ephemeral, something to be passed around, something that comes and goes like the wind. But joy, now... Joy is the cultivation of one's mentality and maturity to become indifferent towards the negative things in life, and in turn become more appreciative of the positive things in life.
Therefore, it is entirely possible for you to have all the joy in the world... But without a shred of happiness.
Happiness is not something that is 'earned'. It runs, it flies, it's like the f-ing Mynahs outside my bunk at Pulau Tekong - They're everywhere, they can't be captured, and they keep you awake all night if you're on light duty and haven't worked out at all to make your body sore. In a sense, they symbolize happiness well. The annoying cries they produce at night before bed is like the utter abundance of happiness all around you, and yet you can never hold it within your palms. A really awkward comparison, I know, but hey, it works.
I want to instill that truth both in WoP Quest, and in AmdA. That is my endgoal in my life, or at least in my time as a writer. I can't think of what else Id become if I don't become a writer. Frankly, the future is a vast, blank canvas, and the only thing on my mind is not about painting my own life, but to use what life I have to paint the lives that could have been.
The lives of men who are not portrayed in society simply because they are a minority. The lives of people who do not get what they deserve, toyed by the cruel hand of Fate.
That is my driving force as a writer - Not to write about some empty criminal fiction story about how the good guys always win in the end, about how bad guys actually don't want to be the bad guys, that kind of thriller fiction is crude. (I got ma eye on ya, John Roswell Camp. You too, f-ing Lucas Davenport.)
My driving force is to paint darkness to enumerate the dying lights in the world. The people who you see in the mortuary, the insignificant names who simply don't matter to you (since you're not related to them) and disappear like the last sparks of fireworks. And yet, they are the ones who have the most interesting stories to tell.
It applies to all my stories. I don't like characters that live long enough to become a protagonist once more in a sequel. (WoP Quest is different - The volumes are different routes, and it's like hitting the reset button, or erasing the stuff on a magnetic toy drawing board. It's not set in stone.)
*** ***
I hate Western action stories for their coincidental applications of the convenient elements around them, and I hate Oriental action stories for giving the characters unfathomable power spikes without reason or purpose.
Messiah will show the Western world the true power of element utilization. (Recall how Katachi outsmarts Rekter in Chapter 21.) Herald will show the Oriental world the definition of a solid base. (Resound through your mind the visualization and actualization that is Image Power.) Endus Reignum will smite both of their cultures, their foundations, and prove once more that their stories are fallacious.
Glory to WoP Quest. Long live WoP Quest.
Now let me see you WoP.
(I know, it's a crude joke, but I've been neglecting it for long enough. Heheh.)
Wednesday 19 November 2014
Messiah 26 : Arrest
R : "What a pity."
Roberia held the sheathe of a sword against the blade of her scythe. With a forceful press, she pressed the blade's fuller against the sheathe and her kneecap with great strength.
Katachi wasn't exactly prepared for the sound of the blade breaking, hitting his head against the lantern hanging above his head upon hearing the snap of the metal.
K : "Wh- Wha?"
He looked at Roberia, who was laughing at him.
R : "You sure are a klutz, Katachi. I didn't really think you'd hit your head against the lantern, but there's a first for everything, isn't there?"
K : "... I guess..."
Katachi continued to examine the leather armor in his hands.
The snap of metal was heard once more, but Katachi did not raise his head in surprise. He turned his head to the source of the noise, and saw Roberia properly disposing the blades in a cloth.
K : "... You're destroying your scythe?"
R : "Yeah. The blades got nicked from me catching the bandits' blows. See?"
Pointing at the part on the scythe which she had snapped, Roberia appropriated so.
K : "... Those were made as farming equipment to begin with, weren't they?... They would probably lack the durability of real weapons in that case..."
R : "I was just getting used to them. It's a shame they broke so easily."
Katachi pointed at the back of the wagon, where the other pieces of armor and weapons of the bandits lay.
K : "You can use those, if you'd like. I don't even know what I would do with these."
R : (We could probably sell those for good coin around here, though I don't really think we'd need any more gold. Our wallets are already full of them from the time I confiscated that from that Anikan meatball.) "We could peddle them, or give them away as charity." (That could be bad, though. Even if we give it to them, if the bandits catch them by surprise, all we've done is make their equipment harder to acquire. It's not a permanent solution to the problem...)
Katachi neatly placed the armor in his hand to a side, and grabbed another item from the stash of loot at the back.
K : (Giving armor is fine, but weapons are a different matter, though... There are stories in lore where the merchants selling weapons are attacked by the weapons they sold, so the bandits don't have to pay the coin for it. It's a common tactic, so weapons are actually dangerous.) "... The armor is fine, but I think we should bury the weapons instead..."
R : (Bury the weapons?... Actually, that's a really good idea. The plains are so big that finding a single spot is difficult without a sort of landmark. It also reduces the total number of weapons they can use. That's a very smart decision.) "That would be good. We should do that at night, where nobody can see where it's buried."
K : "... Agreed."
The two of them were thinking very different thoughts - Their goals were similar, yet their means and reasons differ like night and day.
*** ***
Out of goodwill, the people traveling with them were generous enough to lend them a shovel.
Katachi was tending to the campfire as the elders and children prepared the meat to be roasted on a skewer.
The night was quiet, and the breeze of spring made the air fragrant with the scent of grass oils and flowers.
R : "Ouch!"
Roberia was taking her time to look over the weapons she could replace her scythes with. But, while unsheathing one of the rusty-looking daggers, she had hurt herself by accident.
K : (?! What's wrong?)
R : "Ah." (It's a small cut. It stings a bit, but it shouldn't be too bad.)
Her cry of pain worried the black-haired boy, and he hurried over to her side.
K : "What happened?"
R : "It's nothing. I just cut myself a little."
K : (Oh. Looks like it's nothing too serious.) "... I see. Well, as long as you're alright."
He returned to the fire, and continued fanning the flames further. The children were resting in the elders' arms as they watched them roast the food over the flames.
Roberia got back to work, but that was when she realized...
R : (Wait, this dagger...)
... That the dagger she was holding onto was the dagger held by the bandit woman she had fought earlier.
R : (This is that woman's dagger, isn't it? The one she sheathed carefully before Katachi fixated them in place.)
In her head, the image of the woman carefully sheathing the dagger surfaced.
R : (Wasn't this poisoned?) "..."
... Should she report this to Katachi? But, would that appear as a sign of weakness to him? Roberia wanted to tell him in case it was fatal, but a small scratch like that should not cause much problems. Apart from the creatures in Western Anik, most poisonous creatures have debilitating toxins, but none are too fatal to consider an emergency.
R : (... No, wait. This might not be as dangerous as I thought.)
Roberia examined the blade once more. Upon closer inspection, the blade on the dagger looked incredibly cheap and poorly-made, so it shouldn't be able to handle the more dangerous toxins. When she sniffed it, she couldn't smell anything distinct, so it was possible that it was either an odorless toxin, or it was entirely possible that the act was a feint, a trick to make her opponents on guard over something inexistent.
Certainly, if she could intimidate her foes with the possibility of a poison, it would make sense why she would pull a bluff like so. Roberia felt like relaxing upon thinking that, but she tensed up a little.
R : (I don't feel weird at all. Maybe the poison's not fast-acting? Perhaps she was feinting it all along?)
She didn't want to think about it.
In any case, the poison (if any) wasn't affecting her body, and it was entirely possible that it never existed. She had yet encounter a poison that was both lethal and odorless, and it wouldn't make much sense to specifically use an odorless poison on a weapon anyway.
R : (Maybe I'm over-reacting. I should just relax and have dinner.)
She threw the dagger and its sheathe into the hole, and began filling the hole with dirt.
R : "..." (Good. All that's left is the grass. This piece looks like it would go over there better. But the hole here is a little lop-sided and uneven. Would it seem too obvious? I should probably cut this turf of grass with the shovel and fill it in place so it's less noticeable.)
She got to work quickly and pressed the turfs of grass into the earth as evenly as possible.
R : "..." (That should be all.)
Roberia walked back towards the campfire, and took the stick of cooked meat from the reluctant Katachi.
R : (Look at him, all flustered and troubled. If you didn't want to eat the meat, just tell them directly, idiot.) "I'll be taking this. You're against eating meat, aren't you?"
K : "... Thanks."
*** ***
R : (... Where am I?)
As Roberia awoke, she was overcome by a sense of detachment. She could not move her body properly,. and moving her arm felt like pushing against a cold, numbing block of ice wedged in the space around her.
R : (Katachi? Where'd he go?) "... Kahati...?"
Her eyelids were like lead curtains, and she could only see a sliver of light at the bottom. She could not move her mouth, let alone her tongue, properly. Roberia's speech felt impaired, and she spoke with much difficulty. If anyone would give a reference as to her current state, she would be associated with a child who had scalded their tongue and spoke without moving her tongue at all.
K : "? Are you okay, Roberia?"
R : (Why can't I- No... The poison from yesterday... Paralysis! I need to tell him right now!) "I han't... Seek hohrii..."
Her gasp-like speech was useless before Katachi, who was simply not well-versed at inferring speech. After all, for a person who had spent a majority of his life reading books, his eyes may be commendable but his ears were not accustomed to guesswork.
K : "... Hohri?... Hokrie? Hokrie's Journey?"
For some reason, Katachi was asking for a book from the elder about the story of someone she didn't know about.
R : (You idiot! I can't speak properly!) "I han't...! Seek hohrii!"
K : "... Are you ill? This could be troubling..."
He did not know that she had accidentally scratched herself with the poisoned blade. But, that was because of Roberia's own inaction, so she could not pin the blame on him entirely.
R : (Maybe I should use words that suggest something has happened instead. It seems that the longer the sentence, the more difficulty I have in pronouncing the words...) "... Hel..."
K : "Hel... Help? What's wrong?"
R : (Good! He understood!) "Han't... Nnnugh..."
K : "... 'Can't move'? You can't move?"
Roberia tried to nod her head in consent, but her head felt like a huge melon dangling on her neck. She could only try her best to answer.
R : "Ye."
K : "... Don't worry, Roberia. We're nearing the borter for Rugnud. I'm sure there would be physicians around to treat you."
R : (... What!?)
She couldn't believe her ears. To think, that they were already close to the borter while she was unconscious when they should have arrived after noon... Did the toxin distorted her sense of time? Did she associate the numbness with lethargy? Roberia didn't really know what happened, but she knew that it was not good at all.
She had yet warned Katachi about the potential danger of approaching the borter with their current identities.
R : (This is really bad.. I'm struggling with nodding my head, let alone saying 'I can't speak properly'. At this rate, there's no way I'd be able to convey 'Don't reveal our identities'. This could be bad.) "..."
She had thought of a plan to hold out against the queries of the other knights, but when she's numbed like so, it's impossible to testify for Katachi herself.
*** ***
Fate can be cruel at the worst times.
*** ***
The wagon ceased its rattling as the caravan was halted by the borter guards.
K : (I should ask if they have a physician. A barber surgeon is fine as well, but having someone well-versed in the field would be good.) "Excuse me!"
Katachi pushed his way across the elders seated on the wagon, and got off the caravan. He hurried over to the soldiers who wielded halberds and waved at them.
K : "Have you a physician? My wife's having some trouble."
*** ***
(An Ohdean?) "Is there trouble? Is she in labor?"
K : "Well, she's probably experiencing numbness or paralysis. I would like her examined... ?"
(How unusual. Though, I should show some hospitality, so rumors of us wouldn't spread. The country's chaotic enough, and we could use less rumors.) "Certainly."
The guard slowly marched behind the black-haired boy as he headed to the back of the caravan and climbed to the back, hoisting a lady's arm on his shoulder.
K : "Slowly, slowly now... Could you give me a hand?"
(... That armor... !)
He recognized that armor anywhere.
The vibrant red scale-like salamander armor, fashioned after the corsairs of Yimmer. The slender, strong physique that shows thorough and consistent training, in a restless pursuit for strength.
As a soldier, he may not have the honor of meeting someone of her nobility face-to-face.
But there was no mistaking it. The woman he was assisting was, without a shadow of a doubt, the one who bears the sacred title.
(... Empress of Rugnud, Matalpalhallafaelladrapahamo Roberia.)
... What was this filthy Ohdean doing, holding onto her like that?
Proclaiming a noble as his wife, supporting her weak, seemingly paralyzed self out of the caravan, speaking to her in such an affectionate way...
How could his liege become attached to an outsider, and an Ohdean no less? It were as if this were all a ploy, an act.
What reason had he to pull such a bluff?
Surely, a man, a knight of honor from Rugnud wouldn't even dare to stoop this low. And yet, that black hair reflected the Ohdean lineage. He had no need to show the respect and dignity the proud knights of Rugnud ought to uphold.
Had he, by chance, noticed the green Band of Approval on her hair, and drugged her to bypass the security?
(What... Should I do?)
Should he arrest him? Should he execute the Ohdean on the spot? But, what of the chances that the Ohdean is actually her benefactor?...
... But, in that case, he would have no need to call her his wife. He would simply need to say that he helped her in a time of crisis, and he would have easily gained passage that way.
Then...
(... That idiot doesn't know her identity.)
That was the only explanation.
He simply knocked the red-haired girl outside the country, came up with a convincing argument to pass the border, and blindly walked into his own doom.
Haste is preferred over caution.
It would be ideal to maim him now and put him under arrest, before he learns of his plan's gaping weakness.
*** ***
Katachi slowly lowered the red-haired girl off the caravan, ensuring that she would be able to get down safely. An elder who had gotten off earlier aided in the process, and held her shoulders such that she wouldn't fall.
But, before anyone could realize what was happening-
*Wham* *Thud*
Katachi had been struck on the base of his neck with a blackjack, knocked out in a clean hit.
R : (? ... What was that?)
She could not muster enough strength to open her eyes wide. She could not feel her body at all. As hard as she tried to budge, the poison had spread too far in her sleep.
Her body had failed her.
She could not understand what had happened before her, except the visage of the black-haired boy lying unconscious before her feet.
"A cocky Ohdean like yourself, claiming the Empress as your wife... There are some lies best untold, you fool of a smuggler."
R : (!! Katachi! Damn it, I should have told him beforehand not to reveal our marriage!)
It was the greatest folly she could have ever committed. Had she warned Katachi a day ahead, or even a month ahead when they were still at the church, this would not have happened.
But what was she to say, then? What could she have told him to avoid rousing his suspicion? Her time with him had been enjoyable, and she took comfort in his honest and conservative attitude. She had known that a day her lies and secrets were exposed would come, but she had not expected it to arrive so soon, at such an untimely hour.
The guards... They would surely torture him and demand answers to questions he wouldn't have the faintest clue of, and he would be subject to an unfair, biased trial where he would be guilty regardless of the process.
The Trial of Sin, induced by Findel's culture.
That was the very corruption Roberia despised so, and it was about to take away yet another innocent life.
"What- What are you doing?"
"I am putting this miserable deceiver under arrest."
*Cozy's Notes : I SO WANT TO USE STOWAWAY BUT IT WAS USED IN 1848AD AND IT DOESN'T EXIST IN 1570AD DAMN IT I SHOT MYSELF IN THE FOOT*
Except... Katachi was no 'innocent life'.
He was a boy, but he was the boy she entrusted her back to. He was a person who, for her sake, shoved her away from danger, rejected the advances of another woman firmly, wormed his way into a brothel to rescue her, and shared his deepest woes with her.
But, most importantly...
He had viewed her not as an empress of a country, but as a mere woman.
"Deceiver?! Wha- What of this young man? What crimes has he befouled to rouse such need?"
She could not leap out and say 'Release him!' to them. She could not defend the one person whom was oblivious to her, and in turn the one who showed the purest feelings to her.
R : (Who- What's going on? What are they doing to me?)
"It seems that you are unaware of his misdeeds. Very well, since you lot are merely beguiled by this repulsive criminal, you may be spared. Line up, and show me your Bands of Approval!"
She could not do anything except be lifted and carried onto a horse of some sort, as the distance between them increased further and further.
"Where to, Captain?"
R : (Katachi... Please, I beg of you... Please be safe. Come back to me alive.)
"Take her to Marquis Gracer's house. Jullan Gracer is a friend of hers - He should know what to do."
The sensation of bumping up and down on the horse in a dangerous manner should have stimulated the adrenaline in her body and jerked her back into action, but it only caused the poison in her blood to spread further.
She could only close her eyes silently at the word 'Gracer'.
R : (Gracer... Jullan, I'm counting on you...)
*** ***
A quiet place was a rare place, in a country such as Rugnud.
But in the archives of a famed noble lay an aged man, with his grey hair combed back properly and wearing a dated coat that represents his pride as a seasoned warrior. A letter was pressed straight on a glass panel, and its contents shown clearly.
____________________
Duke Harlot,
From what I can gather, a magus named Bael fed Deku a berserk drug of sorts, and manipulated him to attack a person named Kotsuba Katachi. Cillian was trying to hold down Deku and prevent him from going out of control, but he died in an attempt to rip Deku out from his golem. Though, according to one of my juniors, Cillian made a commendable effort in reaching Deku and even managed to enter the golem. However, he was simply caught in a bad situation, and lost his life carelessly without considering the problem with the plan.
I think this incident serves to enunciate the importance of magical knowledge. It would be strongly advised to send a few of our spellswords here to understand more about magic, considering the fact that our knowledge of it serves to improve our odds against magi, even by a small margin. To rely on the Hierphacon would be far too much, even if it has indeed kept our country safe as a conceptual weapon. My only concern is that the magi of other countries may have already began to develop countermeasures for it, and being prepared to dispel their magic would come in handy for the times to come.
I shall return in a few days with Cillian's ashes, and I hope that you would handle the preparations of the funeral by the time I return. And I regret to say this, but regarding the question you asked me... I have yet to arrive at an answer. I suppose I should give it more consideration, but it has been hectic in these past few days, what with the school cohort entering an uproar over the decrease in food quality. It can't be helped, can it? I can only pray the economy in Rugnud improves. May Ilpoh guide them upon the righteous path once more.
Though, the idea that death is another form of immortality doesn't sound too bad.
Chotil Nea
____________________
H : "... Kotsuba Katachi... ?"
He grabbed the bell to his right, and its clear jingles resounded through the silence of the archives.
"Yes, my lord?"
His lone, middle-aged maid, who stood guard on standby to replace his candles and replenish his drink, emerged from the corner of the library.
H : "Send word to the Axia-obsessed nut. Tell him to look up the stars and fate of this person."
"Yes, my lord."
She departed quietly, with a strict posture that showed her pride as the head maid of Duke Harlot's household.
Roberia held the sheathe of a sword against the blade of her scythe. With a forceful press, she pressed the blade's fuller against the sheathe and her kneecap with great strength.
Katachi wasn't exactly prepared for the sound of the blade breaking, hitting his head against the lantern hanging above his head upon hearing the snap of the metal.
K : "Wh- Wha?"
He looked at Roberia, who was laughing at him.
R : "You sure are a klutz, Katachi. I didn't really think you'd hit your head against the lantern, but there's a first for everything, isn't there?"
K : "... I guess..."
Katachi continued to examine the leather armor in his hands.
The snap of metal was heard once more, but Katachi did not raise his head in surprise. He turned his head to the source of the noise, and saw Roberia properly disposing the blades in a cloth.
K : "... You're destroying your scythe?"
R : "Yeah. The blades got nicked from me catching the bandits' blows. See?"
Pointing at the part on the scythe which she had snapped, Roberia appropriated so.
K : "... Those were made as farming equipment to begin with, weren't they?... They would probably lack the durability of real weapons in that case..."
R : "I was just getting used to them. It's a shame they broke so easily."
Katachi pointed at the back of the wagon, where the other pieces of armor and weapons of the bandits lay.
K : "You can use those, if you'd like. I don't even know what I would do with these."
R : (We could probably sell those for good coin around here, though I don't really think we'd need any more gold. Our wallets are already full of them from the time I confiscated that from that Anikan meatball.) "We could peddle them, or give them away as charity." (That could be bad, though. Even if we give it to them, if the bandits catch them by surprise, all we've done is make their equipment harder to acquire. It's not a permanent solution to the problem...)
Katachi neatly placed the armor in his hand to a side, and grabbed another item from the stash of loot at the back.
K : (Giving armor is fine, but weapons are a different matter, though... There are stories in lore where the merchants selling weapons are attacked by the weapons they sold, so the bandits don't have to pay the coin for it. It's a common tactic, so weapons are actually dangerous.) "... The armor is fine, but I think we should bury the weapons instead..."
R : (Bury the weapons?... Actually, that's a really good idea. The plains are so big that finding a single spot is difficult without a sort of landmark. It also reduces the total number of weapons they can use. That's a very smart decision.) "That would be good. We should do that at night, where nobody can see where it's buried."
K : "... Agreed."
The two of them were thinking very different thoughts - Their goals were similar, yet their means and reasons differ like night and day.
*** ***
Out of goodwill, the people traveling with them were generous enough to lend them a shovel.
Katachi was tending to the campfire as the elders and children prepared the meat to be roasted on a skewer.
The night was quiet, and the breeze of spring made the air fragrant with the scent of grass oils and flowers.
R : "Ouch!"
Roberia was taking her time to look over the weapons she could replace her scythes with. But, while unsheathing one of the rusty-looking daggers, she had hurt herself by accident.
K : (?! What's wrong?)
R : "Ah." (It's a small cut. It stings a bit, but it shouldn't be too bad.)
Her cry of pain worried the black-haired boy, and he hurried over to her side.
K : "What happened?"
R : "It's nothing. I just cut myself a little."
K : (Oh. Looks like it's nothing too serious.) "... I see. Well, as long as you're alright."
He returned to the fire, and continued fanning the flames further. The children were resting in the elders' arms as they watched them roast the food over the flames.
Roberia got back to work, but that was when she realized...
R : (Wait, this dagger...)
... That the dagger she was holding onto was the dagger held by the bandit woman she had fought earlier.
R : (This is that woman's dagger, isn't it? The one she sheathed carefully before Katachi fixated them in place.)
In her head, the image of the woman carefully sheathing the dagger surfaced.
R : (Wasn't this poisoned?) "..."
... Should she report this to Katachi? But, would that appear as a sign of weakness to him? Roberia wanted to tell him in case it was fatal, but a small scratch like that should not cause much problems. Apart from the creatures in Western Anik, most poisonous creatures have debilitating toxins, but none are too fatal to consider an emergency.
R : (... No, wait. This might not be as dangerous as I thought.)
Roberia examined the blade once more. Upon closer inspection, the blade on the dagger looked incredibly cheap and poorly-made, so it shouldn't be able to handle the more dangerous toxins. When she sniffed it, she couldn't smell anything distinct, so it was possible that it was either an odorless toxin, or it was entirely possible that the act was a feint, a trick to make her opponents on guard over something inexistent.
Certainly, if she could intimidate her foes with the possibility of a poison, it would make sense why she would pull a bluff like so. Roberia felt like relaxing upon thinking that, but she tensed up a little.
R : (I don't feel weird at all. Maybe the poison's not fast-acting? Perhaps she was feinting it all along?)
She didn't want to think about it.
In any case, the poison (if any) wasn't affecting her body, and it was entirely possible that it never existed. She had yet encounter a poison that was both lethal and odorless, and it wouldn't make much sense to specifically use an odorless poison on a weapon anyway.
R : (Maybe I'm over-reacting. I should just relax and have dinner.)
She threw the dagger and its sheathe into the hole, and began filling the hole with dirt.
R : "..." (Good. All that's left is the grass. This piece looks like it would go over there better. But the hole here is a little lop-sided and uneven. Would it seem too obvious? I should probably cut this turf of grass with the shovel and fill it in place so it's less noticeable.)
She got to work quickly and pressed the turfs of grass into the earth as evenly as possible.
R : "..." (That should be all.)
Roberia walked back towards the campfire, and took the stick of cooked meat from the reluctant Katachi.
R : (Look at him, all flustered and troubled. If you didn't want to eat the meat, just tell them directly, idiot.) "I'll be taking this. You're against eating meat, aren't you?"
K : "... Thanks."
*** ***
R : (... Where am I?)
As Roberia awoke, she was overcome by a sense of detachment. She could not move her body properly,. and moving her arm felt like pushing against a cold, numbing block of ice wedged in the space around her.
R : (Katachi? Where'd he go?) "... Kahati...?"
Her eyelids were like lead curtains, and she could only see a sliver of light at the bottom. She could not move her mouth, let alone her tongue, properly. Roberia's speech felt impaired, and she spoke with much difficulty. If anyone would give a reference as to her current state, she would be associated with a child who had scalded their tongue and spoke without moving her tongue at all.
K : "? Are you okay, Roberia?"
R : (Why can't I- No... The poison from yesterday... Paralysis! I need to tell him right now!) "I han't... Seek hohrii..."
Her gasp-like speech was useless before Katachi, who was simply not well-versed at inferring speech. After all, for a person who had spent a majority of his life reading books, his eyes may be commendable but his ears were not accustomed to guesswork.
K : "... Hohri?... Hokrie? Hokrie's Journey?"
For some reason, Katachi was asking for a book from the elder about the story of someone she didn't know about.
R : (You idiot! I can't speak properly!) "I han't...! Seek hohrii!"
K : "... Are you ill? This could be troubling..."
He did not know that she had accidentally scratched herself with the poisoned blade. But, that was because of Roberia's own inaction, so she could not pin the blame on him entirely.
R : (Maybe I should use words that suggest something has happened instead. It seems that the longer the sentence, the more difficulty I have in pronouncing the words...) "... Hel..."
K : "Hel... Help? What's wrong?"
R : (Good! He understood!) "Han't... Nnnugh..."
K : "... 'Can't move'? You can't move?"
Roberia tried to nod her head in consent, but her head felt like a huge melon dangling on her neck. She could only try her best to answer.
R : "Ye."
K : "... Don't worry, Roberia. We're nearing the borter for Rugnud. I'm sure there would be physicians around to treat you."
R : (... What!?)
She couldn't believe her ears. To think, that they were already close to the borter while she was unconscious when they should have arrived after noon... Did the toxin distorted her sense of time? Did she associate the numbness with lethargy? Roberia didn't really know what happened, but she knew that it was not good at all.
She had yet warned Katachi about the potential danger of approaching the borter with their current identities.
R : (This is really bad.. I'm struggling with nodding my head, let alone saying 'I can't speak properly'. At this rate, there's no way I'd be able to convey 'Don't reveal our identities'. This could be bad.) "..."
She had thought of a plan to hold out against the queries of the other knights, but when she's numbed like so, it's impossible to testify for Katachi herself.
*** ***
Fate can be cruel at the worst times.
*** ***
The wagon ceased its rattling as the caravan was halted by the borter guards.
K : (I should ask if they have a physician. A barber surgeon is fine as well, but having someone well-versed in the field would be good.) "Excuse me!"
Katachi pushed his way across the elders seated on the wagon, and got off the caravan. He hurried over to the soldiers who wielded halberds and waved at them.
K : "Have you a physician? My wife's having some trouble."
*** ***
(An Ohdean?) "Is there trouble? Is she in labor?"
K : "Well, she's probably experiencing numbness or paralysis. I would like her examined... ?"
(How unusual. Though, I should show some hospitality, so rumors of us wouldn't spread. The country's chaotic enough, and we could use less rumors.) "Certainly."
The guard slowly marched behind the black-haired boy as he headed to the back of the caravan and climbed to the back, hoisting a lady's arm on his shoulder.
K : "Slowly, slowly now... Could you give me a hand?"
(... That armor... !)
He recognized that armor anywhere.
The vibrant red scale-like salamander armor, fashioned after the corsairs of Yimmer. The slender, strong physique that shows thorough and consistent training, in a restless pursuit for strength.
As a soldier, he may not have the honor of meeting someone of her nobility face-to-face.
But there was no mistaking it. The woman he was assisting was, without a shadow of a doubt, the one who bears the sacred title.
(... Empress of Rugnud, Matalpalhallafaelladrapahamo Roberia.)
... What was this filthy Ohdean doing, holding onto her like that?
Proclaiming a noble as his wife, supporting her weak, seemingly paralyzed self out of the caravan, speaking to her in such an affectionate way...
How could his liege become attached to an outsider, and an Ohdean no less? It were as if this were all a ploy, an act.
What reason had he to pull such a bluff?
Surely, a man, a knight of honor from Rugnud wouldn't even dare to stoop this low. And yet, that black hair reflected the Ohdean lineage. He had no need to show the respect and dignity the proud knights of Rugnud ought to uphold.
Had he, by chance, noticed the green Band of Approval on her hair, and drugged her to bypass the security?
(What... Should I do?)
Should he arrest him? Should he execute the Ohdean on the spot? But, what of the chances that the Ohdean is actually her benefactor?...
... But, in that case, he would have no need to call her his wife. He would simply need to say that he helped her in a time of crisis, and he would have easily gained passage that way.
Then...
(... That idiot doesn't know her identity.)
That was the only explanation.
He simply knocked the red-haired girl outside the country, came up with a convincing argument to pass the border, and blindly walked into his own doom.
Haste is preferred over caution.
It would be ideal to maim him now and put him under arrest, before he learns of his plan's gaping weakness.
*** ***
Katachi slowly lowered the red-haired girl off the caravan, ensuring that she would be able to get down safely. An elder who had gotten off earlier aided in the process, and held her shoulders such that she wouldn't fall.
But, before anyone could realize what was happening-
*Wham* *Thud*
Katachi had been struck on the base of his neck with a blackjack, knocked out in a clean hit.
R : (? ... What was that?)
She could not muster enough strength to open her eyes wide. She could not feel her body at all. As hard as she tried to budge, the poison had spread too far in her sleep.
Her body had failed her.
She could not understand what had happened before her, except the visage of the black-haired boy lying unconscious before her feet.
"A cocky Ohdean like yourself, claiming the Empress as your wife... There are some lies best untold, you fool of a smuggler."
R : (!! Katachi! Damn it, I should have told him beforehand not to reveal our marriage!)
It was the greatest folly she could have ever committed. Had she warned Katachi a day ahead, or even a month ahead when they were still at the church, this would not have happened.
But what was she to say, then? What could she have told him to avoid rousing his suspicion? Her time with him had been enjoyable, and she took comfort in his honest and conservative attitude. She had known that a day her lies and secrets were exposed would come, but she had not expected it to arrive so soon, at such an untimely hour.
The guards... They would surely torture him and demand answers to questions he wouldn't have the faintest clue of, and he would be subject to an unfair, biased trial where he would be guilty regardless of the process.
The Trial of Sin, induced by Findel's culture.
That was the very corruption Roberia despised so, and it was about to take away yet another innocent life.
"What- What are you doing?"
"I am putting this miserable deceiver under arrest."
*Cozy's Notes : I SO WANT TO USE STOWAWAY BUT IT WAS USED IN 1848AD AND IT DOESN'T EXIST IN 1570AD DAMN IT I SHOT MYSELF IN THE FOOT*
Except... Katachi was no 'innocent life'.
He was a boy, but he was the boy she entrusted her back to. He was a person who, for her sake, shoved her away from danger, rejected the advances of another woman firmly, wormed his way into a brothel to rescue her, and shared his deepest woes with her.
But, most importantly...
He had viewed her not as an empress of a country, but as a mere woman.
"Deceiver?! Wha- What of this young man? What crimes has he befouled to rouse such need?"
She could not leap out and say 'Release him!' to them. She could not defend the one person whom was oblivious to her, and in turn the one who showed the purest feelings to her.
R : (Who- What's going on? What are they doing to me?)
"It seems that you are unaware of his misdeeds. Very well, since you lot are merely beguiled by this repulsive criminal, you may be spared. Line up, and show me your Bands of Approval!"
She could not do anything except be lifted and carried onto a horse of some sort, as the distance between them increased further and further.
"Where to, Captain?"
R : (Katachi... Please, I beg of you... Please be safe. Come back to me alive.)
"Take her to Marquis Gracer's house. Jullan Gracer is a friend of hers - He should know what to do."
The sensation of bumping up and down on the horse in a dangerous manner should have stimulated the adrenaline in her body and jerked her back into action, but it only caused the poison in her blood to spread further.
She could only close her eyes silently at the word 'Gracer'.
R : (Gracer... Jullan, I'm counting on you...)
*** ***
A quiet place was a rare place, in a country such as Rugnud.
But in the archives of a famed noble lay an aged man, with his grey hair combed back properly and wearing a dated coat that represents his pride as a seasoned warrior. A letter was pressed straight on a glass panel, and its contents shown clearly.
____________________
Duke Harlot,
From what I can gather, a magus named Bael fed Deku a berserk drug of sorts, and manipulated him to attack a person named Kotsuba Katachi. Cillian was trying to hold down Deku and prevent him from going out of control, but he died in an attempt to rip Deku out from his golem. Though, according to one of my juniors, Cillian made a commendable effort in reaching Deku and even managed to enter the golem. However, he was simply caught in a bad situation, and lost his life carelessly without considering the problem with the plan.
I think this incident serves to enunciate the importance of magical knowledge. It would be strongly advised to send a few of our spellswords here to understand more about magic, considering the fact that our knowledge of it serves to improve our odds against magi, even by a small margin. To rely on the Hierphacon would be far too much, even if it has indeed kept our country safe as a conceptual weapon. My only concern is that the magi of other countries may have already began to develop countermeasures for it, and being prepared to dispel their magic would come in handy for the times to come.
I shall return in a few days with Cillian's ashes, and I hope that you would handle the preparations of the funeral by the time I return. And I regret to say this, but regarding the question you asked me... I have yet to arrive at an answer. I suppose I should give it more consideration, but it has been hectic in these past few days, what with the school cohort entering an uproar over the decrease in food quality. It can't be helped, can it? I can only pray the economy in Rugnud improves. May Ilpoh guide them upon the righteous path once more.
Though, the idea that death is another form of immortality doesn't sound too bad.
Chotil Nea
____________________
H : "... Kotsuba Katachi... ?"
He grabbed the bell to his right, and its clear jingles resounded through the silence of the archives.
"Yes, my lord?"
His lone, middle-aged maid, who stood guard on standby to replace his candles and replenish his drink, emerged from the corner of the library.
H : "Send word to the Axia-obsessed nut. Tell him to look up the stars and fate of this person."
"Yes, my lord."
She departed quietly, with a strict posture that showed her pride as the head maid of Duke Harlot's household.
Friday 7 November 2014
Happy birthday again, WoP Quest! ♥
Cozy :
It's been two years.
I am happy, and a little sad at the same time.
I haven't been as active at writing this story for the second year. It's a real shame, really - If I had kept the fervor I held in year 1, I think this story would be almost halfway into Messiah, compared to this.
But I feel like rushing the work would mean sacrificing its quality. I don't know... It's just a vibe I get.
The quantity of the chapters have gone down. But subsequently, the quality increases, and the spelling mistakes are lesser.
Still, I wish for this story to be finished quickly.
I can't wait to finish the story and begin proper sales of its paperback edition.
Though, it will be pretty tricky, given the nature of the story - There needs to be a way to identify what the strange characters are.
Well, for the story here online, Google helps a lot - Highlight the word, paste on Google Translate, and the meaning becomes clear.
But for the paperback... I will need to make some modifications.
Edits need to happen here and there. The Cozy's Notes (some of them, at least) need to be incorporated into the story properly, instead of giving it a non-serious, detached feel (at least, for the non-spoiler related ones.)
There's so much to do. There's so little time.
Also, my enlistment begins on November 27th. It's a compulsory enlistment called National Service by the Singapore government - Don't ask.
Though, with clear reasons, I am strongly against the notion of war and joining the army. I don't want to hold a gun in my hand, run into Malaysia and fight, if and where possible. I have relatives there!
There is no glory in murder. I think Katachi's reaction when he killed Wang Gu and Mei Lan was pretty well done - It reflects the inner turmoils in my own heart properly.
*** ***
I apologize for this slow, almost-stale story.
I really do.
This story, how may I put it...
It takes a while to get it going.
But the world is amazing. This story's world is absolutely amazing. I want to post the next Deku Up! 7 right now and show you how beautiful it is, but I cannot.
Yet, if I refuse, I would likely be seen as a lazy bum who does practically nothing at home almost all-day, watching anime and reading manga and being a NEET. (Which I currently am, until I start / finish NS.)
So, without further ado, allow me to enlighten you on what I've been doing for this time.
I have been experimenting with a... Different approach to battles, if I may.
You see, many stories simply write "Their swords clashed, and sparks flew where they struck."
But, thinking from another angle, that is extremely uncouth. That is stale, boring, and it leaves the battle's full momentum to the imagination of the reader.
So I've been thinking, 'Hey, why not break down the battle into every swing, every action? I mean, it'd be bad if I simply repeated what I did with the battle between Katachi and Cillian.' The result...
... Well, you can see for yourself.
The link below shows what I've been trying out:
K vs. R - http://kotsubakatachi.blogspot.sg/2014/11/herald-draft-katachi-vs-roberia-work-in.html
Ha-ha! It's wonderful, isn't it?... Is it? I thought it was pretty engaging.
Yes! That is the fateful battle between Katachi and Roberia!... !? (Yes, they are indeed fighting, Katachi is bald, and it's not complete.)
This is supposedly what happens in Herald. I won't explain the circumstances that resulted in that scene, but I would greatly appreciate it if anybody could give feedback on that type of writing style.
Do you feel your blood turning cold as you read the story? Do you feel the danger with each swing, the consequence of each action, the weight behind each attack? A real battle is not a matter of overpowering your opponents and crushing them outright flatly like in shounen stories.
It is a matter of dancing in coordination with your opponent's moves, moving and shifting yourself into an advantageous position that makes your opponent move in a predictable way out of desperation, and not giving your opponent a chance to fight in a field/situation where he/she is adept in.
There are no fanciful sword beams that lash out towards each other, that seeks to destroy everything in their path. Think of those kinds of attack as shining a flashlight into your opponent's eyes - Sword beams are just beams of light, and they should do no damage at all. All the background effects that make the sword beams look like they're powerful? They're just Specal Effects to give the illusion that it's powerful.
I would hate to see the community say something like 'Getsuga tensho numero uno scrub' or 'Wind scar > everything nigga' I'm not even a 'nigga', please use 'asian' if you do. (Not that I'm promoting such an action.) Those are the inFamous 4 (One piece, Naruto, Bleach and Dragon Ball), which do not actually consider human vs. human battles when drawn / animated.
In fact, their characters aren't human. They're monsters who only act human, so as not to disconnect them from their viewers too far. Once I reach Endus Reignum, you will see some real human vs. monster battles. Real humans can never move the way the inFamous 4 move.
Whereas in my story, you can completely relate to the physical fights because they are actions that can be performed by me, you, and just about anyone with working pairs of limbs. It challenges the real limitations of battle, rather than assume a person's skill and power in numeric values.
In any case, I'll leave you all with this draft. Please take good care of me as I continue to paint this world with these incapable hands.
Signing off,
Cozy
It's been two years.
I am happy, and a little sad at the same time.
I haven't been as active at writing this story for the second year. It's a real shame, really - If I had kept the fervor I held in year 1, I think this story would be almost halfway into Messiah, compared to this.
But I feel like rushing the work would mean sacrificing its quality. I don't know... It's just a vibe I get.
The quantity of the chapters have gone down. But subsequently, the quality increases, and the spelling mistakes are lesser.
Still, I wish for this story to be finished quickly.
I can't wait to finish the story and begin proper sales of its paperback edition.
Though, it will be pretty tricky, given the nature of the story - There needs to be a way to identify what the strange characters are.
Well, for the story here online, Google helps a lot - Highlight the word, paste on Google Translate, and the meaning becomes clear.
But for the paperback... I will need to make some modifications.
Edits need to happen here and there. The Cozy's Notes (some of them, at least) need to be incorporated into the story properly, instead of giving it a non-serious, detached feel (at least, for the non-spoiler related ones.)
There's so much to do. There's so little time.
Also, my enlistment begins on November 27th. It's a compulsory enlistment called National Service by the Singapore government - Don't ask.
Though, with clear reasons, I am strongly against the notion of war and joining the army. I don't want to hold a gun in my hand, run into Malaysia and fight, if and where possible. I have relatives there!
There is no glory in murder. I think Katachi's reaction when he killed Wang Gu and Mei Lan was pretty well done - It reflects the inner turmoils in my own heart properly.
*** ***
I apologize for this slow, almost-stale story.
I really do.
This story, how may I put it...
It takes a while to get it going.
But the world is amazing. This story's world is absolutely amazing. I want to post the next Deku Up! 7 right now and show you how beautiful it is, but I cannot.
Yet, if I refuse, I would likely be seen as a lazy bum who does practically nothing at home almost all-day, watching anime and reading manga and being a NEET. (Which I currently am, until I start / finish NS.)
So, without further ado, allow me to enlighten you on what I've been doing for this time.
I have been experimenting with a... Different approach to battles, if I may.
You see, many stories simply write "Their swords clashed, and sparks flew where they struck."
But, thinking from another angle, that is extremely uncouth. That is stale, boring, and it leaves the battle's full momentum to the imagination of the reader.
So I've been thinking, 'Hey, why not break down the battle into every swing, every action? I mean, it'd be bad if I simply repeated what I did with the battle between Katachi and Cillian.' The result...
... Well, you can see for yourself.
The link below shows what I've been trying out:
K vs. R - http://kotsubakatachi.blogspot.sg/2014/11/herald-draft-katachi-vs-roberia-work-in.html
Ha-ha! It's wonderful, isn't it?... Is it? I thought it was pretty engaging.
Yes! That is the fateful battle between Katachi and Roberia!... !? (Yes, they are indeed fighting, Katachi is bald, and it's not complete.)
This is supposedly what happens in Herald. I won't explain the circumstances that resulted in that scene, but I would greatly appreciate it if anybody could give feedback on that type of writing style.
Do you feel your blood turning cold as you read the story? Do you feel the danger with each swing, the consequence of each action, the weight behind each attack? A real battle is not a matter of overpowering your opponents and crushing them outright flatly like in shounen stories.
It is a matter of dancing in coordination with your opponent's moves, moving and shifting yourself into an advantageous position that makes your opponent move in a predictable way out of desperation, and not giving your opponent a chance to fight in a field/situation where he/she is adept in.
There are no fanciful sword beams that lash out towards each other, that seeks to destroy everything in their path. Think of those kinds of attack as shining a flashlight into your opponent's eyes - Sword beams are just beams of light, and they should do no damage at all. All the background effects that make the sword beams look like they're powerful? They're just Specal Effects to give the illusion that it's powerful.
I would hate to see the community say something like 'Getsuga tensho numero uno scrub' or 'Wind scar > everything nigga' I'm not even a 'nigga', please use 'asian' if you do. (Not that I'm promoting such an action.) Those are the inFamous 4 (One piece, Naruto, Bleach and Dragon Ball), which do not actually consider human vs. human battles when drawn / animated.
In fact, their characters aren't human. They're monsters who only act human, so as not to disconnect them from their viewers too far. Once I reach Endus Reignum, you will see some real human vs. monster battles. Real humans can never move the way the inFamous 4 move.
Whereas in my story, you can completely relate to the physical fights because they are actions that can be performed by me, you, and just about anyone with working pairs of limbs. It challenges the real limitations of battle, rather than assume a person's skill and power in numeric values.
In any case, I'll leave you all with this draft. Please take good care of me as I continue to paint this world with these incapable hands.
Signing off,
Cozy
Herald Draft : Katachi vs Roberia (Work in Progress)
As she drew her sword, the bald boy withdrew from his back something she was familiar with.
It never came.
His body was human, but his mind had become something else altogether.
The left hand.
The left hand that lay, quietly upon the floor.
Looking at it, that was the left hand he held water pouches with.
The left hand that gripped on a bowl, so that his right hand could scoop food into his mouth.
The left hand that held the wallet open such that he could fish for a few coins with his fingers on his right hand.
The left hand he rested his head against, when the stone floor was chilly and uncomfortable on his face.
The left hand that had supported him in his everyday actions.
It was gone.
It was now rotting on the floor, slowly turning pale.
But the concept of pain did not cause him to flinch.
After all, just as a lizard which performed autotomy to survive, if this lingering pain could preserve one's life longer, it was worth receiving this pain.
Rather than worrying about what one had lost, there was more logic in planning what could be done to remedy the problem.
Hraxiif was right.
It did not matter at all.
*** ***
In that instant, Xelfur knew that his liege would likely lose this match.
There was no way she could forget - The short, brown, thing in his hands...
It was the very dagger he attacked her with, when they first clashed.
R : "... Are you insulting me?"
She felt utterly insulted. The sword by his side that was not withdrawn, almost in a deliberate act of declaring her incompetence... It angered her greatly.
K : "... I use this dagger when I do not wish to hurt my opponent."
R : "There is no such need. Draw the sword by your side, and face me properly."
The boy seemed to hesitate a little at that request.
R : "Or do you mean to sully my pride further, insinuating that I am so inferior that you have to resort to a weapon of mercy?"
Reluctantly, he withdrew the short, brown wooden dagger and pulled out the sword attached to his side.
... It was a peculiar weapon, to say the least.
It was... Whatever it was, it was definitely not a weapon anyone would call normal.
It had an unusually large cross guard, which matched its considerably long handle. But the blade in the center... It was relative short, and took up a very small amount of space. Though it was broad and flat, the length and its thickness did not match the grip and cross guard at all.
Almost as if to say...
... That there was a trick behind the weapon itself.
R : (... How disorienting. Such a cumbersome-looking weapon... It's as if he hammered the hilt of a two-handed sword onto a broad dagger. There must be some secret or trick behind the weapon that I'm not seeing now. He would prefer the dagger over a weird weapon like that... ?)
Despite that, her opponent held the weapon with such calmness and control that proved his proficiency, if not mastery with the joke of a weapon. If there ever was one thing affirmed from this, it was that Kotsuba Katachi had changed considerably since the last time she met him.
She must not be dragged into her opponent's tempo. Roberia raised her guard further, watching her opponent carefully for any sudden movements.
The bald boy simply stood in a passive, tranquil stance. But... Though it seemed as though he were unprepared, there were no openings and gaps in his stance.
R : (... What... Happened to him? He looks completely different from the time I fought him before. Facing him now feels so different, so... Dangerous.)
She knew that the boy meant business when that blade was drawn. As he had claimed, the pressure he released currently was savage compared to the passive, merciful feeling from when he held the dagger.
But she could not back down.
R : (... I must confront him.)
She was in no position to refuse any longer. She had demanded he draw his blade, and as an honorable warrior herself, she must now respond to the boy- No, the warrior's consent.
And so, she tightened her grip on the sword in hand, and approached the warrior carefully.
*** ***
Roberia thrust forward to prompt the boy's response. By nature, thrust attacks were powerful, but dangerous - They were fast, and they would prove fatal if the attack connected, but if one anticipated the attack and calmly avoided it, the window of weakness from outstretching herself could be abused by her opponent.
To start with a thrust, when her opponent was on the defensive to scope her strength, was incredibly risky. But Roberia had trained herself specifically to reduce that window of weakness against the man who was exceptional at parrying, Ian Bloodcrust.
A thrust was so risky that using a second one immediately after the first was often an unwise move. It made the attack predictable, and the enemy would be able to approach and riposte the attack with greater ease. She withdrew the blade, and thrust once more, pouncing off her attack and creating a lunge. She re-positioned herself behind the bald warrior, and swung hard at where his calves ought to be.
KLANG!
A clash of metal. The boy had foreseen her attack during her recovery, which would be swung from the inside of the body outward. Roberia wielded the sword on her right hand, which meant the attack would swing outward towards his left. A failed attack and a successful defense made both warriors step back calmly to analyze their respective opponents once more.
R : (Gh! I figured he would be good at that. Even when we first met, he would defend and retreat like a turtle and carefully observe his enemy's behavior.)
She knew her opponent's behavior from the start. He would keep defending, as if to deter his opponent, as if chanting the fact that their attacks are completely futile.
But the sword in his hand was screaming a different message altogether. It was not a good weapon at all, she thought. A short weapon like so with such a large and cumbersome hilt would never work together. It was designed with such a jarring flaw that it was almost like it had been intentionally designed that way.
It was taunting her to attack even more aggressively, as if to tell her that it's okay to attack recklessly.
Had she been less experienced against fighting multiple opponents, she would have taken that window blindly without considering the circumstances.
R : (... But... Assuming he speaks the truth, he is the vessel of the Wolf of Fear. The weapon was designed like this almost on purpose. For all I know, it may be a trap altogether - While I am distracted by the weapon's obscure design, Hraxiif will probably attack me from behind with an underhanded attack.)
Roberia shifted her focus from Katachi to his sword.
R : (... As Milos taught me, poking and attacking while maintaining a safe margin is the best way to defeat a defensive opponent. I simply need to hit long enough to see what he would do when he wills himself to an actual attack.)
She rushed forward with a powerful kick. Roberia primed the sword at the chest of the bald warrior, to which he used his sword to deflect the attack with ease.
She kept the assault up. Roberia continually advanced forward the more steps Katachi retreated - His evasive efforts barely held up to even against her aggressiveness, and Katachi was forced to concentrate on defense.
And then... She saw it.
Katachi's free left hand suddenly shifted in to hold the obscure sword two-handed.
Roberia took that as a cue to kick backwards and retreat herself to a safe distance.
When one holds a weapon with two hands, it becomes more maneuverable and its strength is increased, with the only weakness being that the shoulders are forced to move in a rhythm that can be easily gauged. At point blank range, the shoulders can't be observed easily, so it would have been very dangerous to stay in that effective range against a short weapon like his.
As she guarded herself against the potential attack...
The boy released his left hand and increased the grip strength on his right.
It never came.
R : (As I expected... Did he really think a cheap and simpleton-befitting tactic would work on me?)
The boy's fighting tactic was absurdly simple - So simple that Roberia felt disgusted.
He would simply block, deflect and avoid attacks until his opponent slips up and stops holding back, and then thrust his own sword at the enemy cleanly when they least expect it.
It was similar to retrieving a pearl from a clam's mouth, without the proper tools for prying it open. The small window of weakness purposely revealed to blind the opponent with the success of victory, was quickly followed up with a deathly counter-attack. Thankfully, every single strike and attack from Roberia was positioned in a way that allowed her to retreat at any given moment, so having her commit to a series of attacks was near impossible for him.
But, the bald warrior... He seemed so used to dodging that he would likely be able to avoid attacks even in his sleep. He had simply raised his evasive and defensive ability to the highest state possible, and gained a way to hurt his opponent.
But, his stance and style of fighting was not much different from the time he wielded the dagger when they first fought - And Roberia had trained herself in preparation for that.
But, his stance and style of fighting was not much different from the time he wielded the dagger when they first fought - And Roberia had trained herself in preparation for that.
Roberia recalled the vision of victory. If his only chance at victory is that one tactic, then he would be forced into a battle of attrition if he no longer holds the sword.
She lunged forward and thrust the sword at his heart with the speed of a rapier - The boy was likely astounded by the sudden increase in speed, and hurriedly tried to block the attack.
Her opponent's not the only one who can use two hands.
Roberia used her left hand to push against the pommel, changing the trajectory of the thrust-
K : "!!"
-Onto the boy's arm. Her blade had slashed him, while her wrist narrowly avoided the obscure weapon.
-Onto the boy's arm. Her blade had slashed him, while her wrist narrowly avoided the obscure weapon.
A beautiful arc of sticky blood spurted forth from the blade that connected with the boy's arm as she slit the forearm of the boy. He leaped back, trying to reduce the damage, but this was the perfect window to attack him.
Roberia chased his steps, filling the space where he once resided, and aggressively stuck to him. The window of weakness was wonderful - His right forearm had been slashed at, and his left forearm was open and clean.
She slashed vertically from head down at the boy, who had retreated fast enough to avoid a fatal blow to the head, but-
*zfhlchwcchhhh*
-not fast enough to avert a sacrifice.
R : (Success!-)
But the boy did not scream.
He simply stood there, staring at the left hand that rested upon the floor.
R : (... He's not screaming, or panicking?...!? He's... He's not... He's not normal at all...)
But, in that act, where she expected her opponent to be engulfed with panic or fear...
K : "... Creeping."
... She felt an irrepressible, unspeakable shock overwhelming herself from his gaze of indifference over the severed appendage on the ground.
*** ***
Even the strongest warriors would feel a shred of sadness if they lost an arm or leg.
Even the toughest men would break down if they were to bid farewell to something important to them.
But, to the bald boy who had given everything in his life to his mission...
He had no such concept of fear.
He had no sense of anxiety.
He had no need to mull over strategies that failed and weaknesses that were exploited.
For, unlike others, he was a simple man, with only one wish.
He simply wished that the Words of Power could be collected together, and then destroyed.
That was it.
And the simplicity of that wish, like a child dreaming of something naive...
... Had regressed far enough into a form unthinkable for humans.
His body was human, but his mind had become something else altogether.
The left hand.
The left hand that lay, quietly upon the floor.
Looking at it, that was the left hand he held water pouches with.
The left hand that gripped on a bowl, so that his right hand could scoop food into his mouth.
The left hand that held the wallet open such that he could fish for a few coins with his fingers on his right hand.
The left hand he rested his head against, when the stone floor was chilly and uncomfortable on his face.
The left hand that had supported him in his everyday actions.
It was gone.
It was now rotting on the floor, slowly turning pale.
But the concept of pain did not cause him to flinch.
After all, just as a lizard which performed autotomy to survive, if this lingering pain could preserve one's life longer, it was worth receiving this pain.
Rather than worrying about what one had lost, there was more logic in planning what could be done to remedy the problem.
Hraxiif was right.
It did not matter at all.
*** ***
At the beck of his whisper, the pebbles on the floor, the decor of shields and swords, and even the gems on the king's crown...
X : (Wha- Magic!?...)
... produced many transparent drops of water.
Xelfur observed as the boy performed the Lotz spell with a single mutter.
X : (This... So, his affinity object is water...)
It was truly terrifying to face an opponent like the mad warrior - Especially because of the fact that his affinity object was able to change into any form.
Water poured into a bowl takes on the shape of a bowl. Water poured into a jug forms a jug's shape. Water tossed on the ground as a puddle became as flat as the surface of the Earth.
In essence...
Where most magi have to carve tattoos of their affinity objects on their skin or a summoning sheet, he could freely use his Creeping without restraint.
In that instant, Xelfur knew that his liege would likely lose this match.
For the mad warrior glaring at her was anything but an easy opponent.
*** ***
K : "... Draw."
At a whisper, the water droplets that formed in the air joined together and drew a shape on the ground.
It was an unfamiliar circle, one Roberia shouldn't approach without caution. Could it be a trap? A summoning circle? Could it be something else altogether? She didn't feel like gambling against an opponent like him. If there were any one thing she understood from her opponent's actions, it was that the bald warrior always analyzed the situation calmly.
Then... What happens after her opponent had observed his foe... That was the part that she did not have the slightest of clue. This was the first time he had revealed this magic to her... To put it in another way, everything before was a mere warm-up, a greeting between two foes who have not met in a long time. The battle truly starts from this moment henceforth.
Then... What happens after her opponent had observed his foe... That was the part that she did not have the slightest of clue. This was the first time he had revealed this magic to her... To put it in another way, everything before was a mere warm-up, a greeting between two foes who have not met in a long time. The battle truly starts from this moment henceforth.
The magic circle formed itself, and then... Katachi stabbed his sword onto the ground.
X : "... Fuegil arts... !"
K : "By my command, Kotsuba Katachi, return to your former glory."
With a powerful blast of light, the water-drawn magic circle illuminated the entire throne room.
And when that brilliance had faded...
The bald warrior stood quietly in place, with sword in hand and-
R : (!! What-... I don't believe it.)
-His left hand restored.
The left hand on the floor was rotting away so quickly that it almost vanished immediately. And in the center of her vision stood the boy in full recovery.
K : "... Let us continue this rondo."
What purpose had cutting his hand off serve?
What purpose had attacking him in a match of attrition served?
Roberia didn't know anymore.
His opponent would stall the battle for an extended period of time, and wear down his enemy by accumulating the fatigue in their minds.
In that regard, it did not matter if that were the only tactic he had for fighting. The fight was wrong to begin with - Instead of attacking her opponent with the intent to maim, she should have attacked with the intent to kill. As long as the warrior lives, he could easily regenerate everything, as he just had with that spell.
It did not matter that his style of fighting was incredibly simple and plain.
After all, he could simply outlast his opponent-
K : "Collate."
Another whisper.
Roberia watched as the bald warrior in the center held his palm against the fuller of the blade, and uttered that word calmly.
As if under a spell, the water formed from the ground once more, and condensed upon his obscure blade.
K : "Extend."
With that one word, the weapon before her, which she had looked at in confusion, finally made sense.
R : (The water...!)
Where the sword was missing in length, it was now replaced with a blade made of the purest water, with the original sword as its metal core.
The design of the blade had changed from a fat, short blade into a long, fatter and incredibly dangerous greatsword.
*Cozy's Notes : Refer to the Bluemoon Great Sword from DkS2, except the 'light' is completely transparent. and the metal blade core is a lot shorter.*
R : (That... He was concealing that?)
The stance the boy now took changed completely from before.
*** ***
*** ***
K : "... I pray this ends quickly."
As if he were warning himself, the warrior began his first attack.
*** ***
The bald warrior rushed at Roberia, and swung the water blade at her face.
Roberia skidded back, and let the blade be hit by the weapon on purpose, to spin her sword and apply the momentum on her opponent.
But...
As the water blade scratched her sword lightly, the impact of the collision was not there.
There was no 'klang!' as there would be when she crossed swords with others. There was no resistance in her arms, though her wrists felt the sword's vibration as the water blade gracefully passes through.
Of course, she thought. Flesh, wood, fruit and stone, those were objects that were solid. Those were objects that could be felt, picked up and thrown, and by extension, those were objects that could be cut.
But, no one in history has ever cut water.
Roberia leaped backwards again in the nick of time, barely avoiding the lunge follow-up.
R : (The water passes right through armor and metal alike. Defense is useless - Evasion is key!)
Roberia stretched her neck out and leaned forward to initiate a charge.
In response, the bald warrior retaliated, slashing at her neck once again.
R : (Repeating such a wide attack... It's only obvious that it would be avoided!)
Fools who attacked with a simple attack deserved to be punished.
Roberia ducked down and slashed at Katachi, but he had let go of the hilt with his left hand, and extended his right as if he were punching the air. The sword's position allowed him to block her attack properly, the metal core of the sword colliding with hers.
R : "!!" (Not good!)
Roberia quickly rolled back, and Katachi used his left hand to push the pommel upwards.
The water blade on the sword scarred the marble floor almost effortlessly. With a fluid motion, Katachi pulled the sword back to his side, raising it properly to his face by the side.
K : "... A hollowed blade. I see..."
R : (... So that's what he had been aiming for.)
Her opponent had deceived her.
... No. He had simply been hiding his power, and lulling her into a false sense of security. After all, this was the first time she had ever seen him take up a proactive offense.
R : (That was close. Had I continued staying in my comfort zone, the water blade would have had me.)
That was the nature, the true strategy of her opponent's attack.
Assume a defensive position to give the illusion that he was weak offensively. Creating a giant water sword, to pretend that his power comes from his magic. Switching to an offensive style and making a predictable move to feign his ineptitude at offense. It was all a trap to make the opponent relax, and feel that the battle was within their control.
... But he slipped up. He had already hinted at his abilities in a melee when he had attempted to thrust his sword into Roberia from before. Though it was a simple tactic, Roberia saw through the determined stance that had shown his honed infighting skill and deemed that she should continue to remain defensive.
Roberia had gotten off lightly from her sword being weakened by the water blade. A sword like hers, designed to be hollowed out and swift as a rapier, would never stand against the undulating currents present in the water blade. It was great fortune that the sword in her hand had become fangled, not broken.
R : (Had I not been careful, I would have lost my head there.) "How ingenious. The water blade of yours deters your foes from using swift, fragile weapons. But, that deception will not work on me."
Roberia tossed the sword in her hand to a side, and walked towards Ian Bloodcrust. With her hand outstretched, she requested for his weapon.
I : "... As you wish, my liege."
She drew his sword from his sheathe, and gripped the heavy blade tight. With a weapon like his, Roberia was sure that the sword would hold out against the water currents.
R : "En garde!"
Their swords clashed once more. The sturdy blade designed with durability in mind held out against the water, but she could feel the disastrous results of the water blade clearly with the vibrations from her palms and wrists.
The water blade on that sword was truly dangerous - It was a weapon that deterred the opponent from standing at mid-range. If the sword does not strike the metal core, the blade cannot be blocked properly. That would force one to fight from afar, using long weapons like spears and polearms to distance and strike the enemy from safety.
Roberia skidded back, and let the blade be hit by the weapon on purpose, to spin her sword and apply the momentum on her opponent.
But...
As the water blade scratched her sword lightly, the impact of the collision was not there.
There was no 'klang!' as there would be when she crossed swords with others. There was no resistance in her arms, though her wrists felt the sword's vibration as the water blade gracefully passes through.
Of course, she thought. Flesh, wood, fruit and stone, those were objects that were solid. Those were objects that could be felt, picked up and thrown, and by extension, those were objects that could be cut.
But, no one in history has ever cut water.
Roberia leaped backwards again in the nick of time, barely avoiding the lunge follow-up.
R : (The water passes right through armor and metal alike. Defense is useless - Evasion is key!)
Roberia stretched her neck out and leaned forward to initiate a charge.
In response, the bald warrior retaliated, slashing at her neck once again.
R : (Repeating such a wide attack... It's only obvious that it would be avoided!)
Fools who attacked with a simple attack deserved to be punished.
Roberia ducked down and slashed at Katachi, but he had let go of the hilt with his left hand, and extended his right as if he were punching the air. The sword's position allowed him to block her attack properly, the metal core of the sword colliding with hers.
R : "!!" (Not good!)
Roberia quickly rolled back, and Katachi used his left hand to push the pommel upwards.
The water blade on the sword scarred the marble floor almost effortlessly. With a fluid motion, Katachi pulled the sword back to his side, raising it properly to his face by the side.
K : "... A hollowed blade. I see..."
R : (... So that's what he had been aiming for.)
Her opponent had deceived her.
... No. He had simply been hiding his power, and lulling her into a false sense of security. After all, this was the first time she had ever seen him take up a proactive offense.
R : (That was close. Had I continued staying in my comfort zone, the water blade would have had me.)
That was the nature, the true strategy of her opponent's attack.
Assume a defensive position to give the illusion that he was weak offensively. Creating a giant water sword, to pretend that his power comes from his magic. Switching to an offensive style and making a predictable move to feign his ineptitude at offense. It was all a trap to make the opponent relax, and feel that the battle was within their control.
... But he slipped up. He had already hinted at his abilities in a melee when he had attempted to thrust his sword into Roberia from before. Though it was a simple tactic, Roberia saw through the determined stance that had shown his honed infighting skill and deemed that she should continue to remain defensive.
Roberia had gotten off lightly from her sword being weakened by the water blade. A sword like hers, designed to be hollowed out and swift as a rapier, would never stand against the undulating currents present in the water blade. It was great fortune that the sword in her hand had become fangled, not broken.
R : (Had I not been careful, I would have lost my head there.) "How ingenious. The water blade of yours deters your foes from using swift, fragile weapons. But, that deception will not work on me."
Roberia tossed the sword in her hand to a side, and walked towards Ian Bloodcrust. With her hand outstretched, she requested for his weapon.
I : "... As you wish, my liege."
She drew his sword from his sheathe, and gripped the heavy blade tight. With a weapon like his, Roberia was sure that the sword would hold out against the water currents.
R : "En garde!"
Their swords clashed once more. The sturdy blade designed with durability in mind held out against the water, but she could feel the disastrous results of the water blade clearly with the vibrations from her palms and wrists.
The water blade on that sword was truly dangerous - It was a weapon that deterred the opponent from standing at mid-range. If the sword does not strike the metal core, the blade cannot be blocked properly. That would force one to fight from afar, using long weapons like spears and polearms to distance and strike the enemy from safety.
Monday 3 November 2014
Deku Up! 6
*Cozy's Notes : This is a pretty chatty chapter. Maybe it's because I've recently read Fate/Stay Night, so my writing style is slightly affected. If it appears weird, please forgive me. Alright, let's see... 'Dear Cozy. How is it possible for warriors like the ones in Rugnud to exist in a world like that? Magic seems so drastically overpowered!' Response : The contents below.*
T : "... Deku, what's a, uh..."
Totta gently closed the book with a troubled look on her face. Seiene was lying flat on the ground, with her sitting on the region between his back and butt. He seemed too relaxed, and smiled to himself on the ground silently, enjoying the sensation of being... Crushed.
Deku couldn't get used to that. Why would anyone find delight in being crushed?... Or perhaps he was delighted that his sister was interacting with him? Still, to sit on your own brother...
That wasn't something Deku could consent to. If his own big sister sat on him, his spine will give way with certainty.
D : "A what, Totta?"
Deku compressed another pile of sand into a small boulder of sandstone, and tore a small chunk of it out.
T : "... Hi-a... Hi-a... Something... ?"
D : "Hierphacon."
T : "Yeah, that. What's that?"
Vesja's tale was a bit early for Totta to read, he thought. Deku cut another brick out of the sandstone, and continued stacking them on the pile.
D : "... The Hierphacon is a magical artifact used by the warriors of Rugnud to gain an advantage against magi."
T : "'By the warriors'? No one else can use it?"
D : "Nope."
That seemed to peak Totta's interest. She twisted her body slightly, and along with her movement Seiene could probably feel his sister twisting above him since he looked up in wonder... And a silly smile on his face.
The kid's twisted. That was the only thing that came into Deku's mind. He's either twisted to the state where he could only enjoy sensual pleasures, or his senses have warped to the point of being incapable of perceiving joy in a way normal people could.
T : "What kind of advantage does the Hear-thing have against magi?"
The way she planted her arm straight onto his thigh, and the way she kept her legs crossed and her feet on Seiene meant that she was pressing against Seiene with her full body weight.
... Isn't that dangerous?
D : "Have a seat, Totta."
Deku stomped on the floor, and the sand next to him bulged and rose to form a plain stone stool for her to sit on.
Totta finally got up from Seiene and sat next to Deku as he continued the reparations of the library.
D : (Ah. He stopped smiling.) "... Alright. Before we start, Totta, do you know what's the difference between an assumed history, and a true history?"
T : "... Uhm..."
Totta closed her eyes and tried her best to construct a suitable answer.
T : "I think, uhm... An assumed history is the general knowledge of the historic event, often known across the lands as general knowledge. Assumed history is known by commoners who aren't capable of magic, right?"
It was not an ideal answer, but she roughly understood the essence of it.
D : "Good. So how does it differ from true history?"
T : "True history is... Uhm... True history is important! And... It shouldn't be revealed to others carelessly!"
D : "And do you know why?"
Totta was stumped at the sudden question aimed at the void in her head.
T : "... I give up."
D : "True history refers to the detailed descriptions of a legend, inclusive of a legend's past and intensive detail on the subject's actions. True history is considerably more potent because of the fact that the contents of true history can be used in spells without the fear of it being recognized easily - Thus the need to shroud it in secrecy."
Her face warped to one of acceptance as she nodded in agreement to his answer.
D : (Don't nod like you knew the answer all the long, you idiot...) "In any case, Hierphacon is a relic created from Rugnud's true history. Normally, information like this would be withheld severely, but Rugnud has no need to keep its history a secret."
T : "Why not?"
D : "Because it was revealed to prove Rugnud's strength in the first place."
Deku absorbed the pile of bricks to his side, and transitioned them to a place further to his right, to make room for a new pile.
D : "Rugnud, as a whole, is a country with its pride and military might focused around warriors. They have no desperate need for magic - And thus they have no need to hide their history as intensively as their opponents do."
He began pulling another chunk of sandstone toward him to cut into bricks.
D : "Also, Hierphacon is revealed on purpose to send a message towards the magi of the world - We cannot expect our magic to work against them."
T : "What made Hierphacon so special? What message was it supposed to send?..."
Totta swung her legs widely, thirsting for more information.
D : "To understand that first, you must first know what Hierphacon is."
Deku set down the bricks and stones for a breather. It wasn't getting the work done, but he had made significant progress on the destroyed wall. If anything, this was a well-deserved break.
D : (Wow, this is going to be a while. I feel thirsty just thinking about it.) "... Hierphacon is the sheathe of a nameless sword held by Fergus, a child soldier. Supposedly, Hierphacon was an experiment performed by a hired Great Sorceror during that time - The child, Fergus, was to fight a childhood friend of his in battles while the sheathe was to remain invisible. Whenever Fergus won the sparring match, he would keep his sword in the invisible sheathe, and everyone would acknowledge that the warrior has won."
He reached down for a tankard, and sipped the soothing tea from it.
D : "When Fergus lost the battle, he would not sheathe his sword, claiming that he did not bring his sheathe with him that rendered his friend's magic ineffective. Through that lie alone, everyone not involved with the Grand Sorceror's plan believed that the sheathe was the contributing factor to Fergus' success."
T : "How would you even know if the sheathe was the reason why Fergus lost? It doesn't make sense how a sheathe allows him to succeed against magi!"
Totta looked at him with a confused expression. It made too little sense for her to understand.
D : "That's the point, Totta - Hierphacon's existence in itself is one big contradiction."
T : "Hah?"
D : "Just as how Sha'koth strived to create the impossible through deception, the point of the plan was to pretend that the sheathe's presence nullified the opponent's magic. By possessing the sheathe, Fergus was able to achieve victory against his friend's magic, and by not possessing it he could not ward off his friend's magic."
T : "He had the sheathe on him all the time, didn't he?"
D : "Yes, he did. But nobody else knows that. Fergus was simply instructed to walk away without sheathing his weapon when he loses. By doing so, he creates the illusion that the sheathe's presence allows him to nullify all forms of magic against his magus friend. Hierphacon's existence is doubtful in itself - I sometimes wonder if it was a real, invisible sheathe, or if the Great Sorceror constructed a sheathe made in air to give the illusion that the sheathe was there."
T : "But... That would mean that they all lied."
D : "It may be a great, big lie, Totta, but it is a legitimate weapon. People seen wielding the Hierphacon would not be touched by magic."
Deku patted Totta on her head gently.
D : "Besides, everything in existence has its weakness, magic included. Don't look so glum."
T : "... Then what's the weakness of Hierphacon wielders?"
Totta looked up at Deku, her hair swaying gently from a draft that hissed through the unfinished wall.
D : "The problem would be the fact that the sheathe itself repels image power. Magic that bolsters your strength, magic that heals your wounds, they will all fail when cast upon a wielder of the Hierphacon."
Deku noticed the warm afternoon draft flowing in, and resolved himself to finish what he started. He cut another rock into the shape of a brick again, and continued stacking the pile neatly.
D : "The physical state of Fergus was also reflected in the story, you see. Fergus is a child soldier. For a child to become a soldier is unthinkable by itself - His skills with his sword were at a Squire's, no matter how you would look at it."
T : "How does his physical state relate to Hierphacon?"
D : "When Fergus fought, he was told to give it his all. He did know how to fight with a sword, to a certain degree - But his identity as a child is bound to get many looks on him."
Deku hurried his fingers at the sudden alteration of the warm draft into a chilly breeze.
D : "He was certainly no Knight, and his strength does not befit a knight. When he fought well, you would think that Fergus was given ample chances to use his strength to his fullest. But when he lost, he could simply blame the fact that he did not have his 'sheathe' with him."
T : "... I... I still don't understand. What am I not seeing here?"
D : "You're not seeing the fact that he could simply blame his poor performance on the sheathe's absence if he didn't feel like disgracing himself. In other words, when he performed poorly, his opponent was allowed to create the vision of victory, so his magus friend won."
T : "The vision of victory..."
D : "... In other words, image power."
Deku took another sip from the tankard, and looked back at Totta. She had the look in her eye that yearned for the liquid he downed.
D : "... This tea's quite bitter, though."
T : "Let me have it!-"
D : "-if you insist. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Their daily interactions with each other had become something completely natural.
D : "Because Fergus was a child soldier, they expected nothing of him. His image in the heads of the servants, maids, aristocrats and observers wasn't the best, so there was nothing to be surprised at. He was simply a kid with a sword fit to be a Squire in their eyes, one without notable skill or technique, one that would not leave an impression on others. Through that, the debate on whether the Hierphacon nullifies its own wielder's image power is unclear, even now.
Deku wiped the accumulated sweat and grime on his fingers and palms upon his pants, and continued working.
D : "Because of his inexperience, it wasn't hard to believe that he had no skill at all. It wasn't hard to believe that he lacked skill. His image in their head was so simple that he did not seem affected, whether he was wielding the sheathe or not. It's that belief which makes the sheathe's ability to enfeeble the owner possible."
He chuckled, upon reaching that point.
T : "? What's so funny?"
D : "If you think about it from an outsider's point of view, the only reason why this weakness existed was because they didn't use an adult, but a child. Though I suppose having a naive, pure child free from conceit contributed to the realism of the tale, had they simply asked an adult to suppress his techniques when he was losing, and show his techniques when he was winning..."
He grabbed at the tankard Totta held with both hands and took a sip out of the refreshing tea, before handing Totta the drink once more.
D : "... It's such a pity. It was so close to becoming a weapon that could completely nullify the opponent's magic."
Deku wiped the liquid on his lips with his wrist.
D : "... Though, I understand why he chose to do this - Had the Great Sorceror created a weapon that could nullify all magic, that would be unthinkable... Well, not that it's completely bad, if you look at it another way."
He frowned when Bael's image formed in his head. He knew it would happen eventually.
He knew that magic was taking a gamble itself, that only men of the strongest mental fortitude ought to perform it. After all, it was only natural that something of great power could help as much as it could afflict ruin with the same vigor.
But he couldn't hide his disgust at Bael becoming disillusioned by it.
... Was he, really?
Perhaps, Deku was distraught for another reason... Did he really hate image power? Or did he hate the fact that Bael succumbed to it? Or perhaps, just maybe...
... Was he irritated by the fact that Bael was never that strong to begin with, even after knowing her all this time?
T : "So the sheathe can nullify all image power, huh?..."
D : "... Yeah. At least, the original Hierphacon is. Imitations of the sheathe don't perform as well as the original - They can only nullify the simplest magics, but that's to be expected of a fake. Still, because of the tale's nature, Hierphacon nullifies its own wielder's image power, meaning that people who properly train their bodies are the only ones who can use them without penalty."
Deku got up and raised himself to the gigantic hole on the wall and ceiling.
D : "Let's call it a day, Totta. I think this should be enough bricks."
Deku pressed his hand against the wall, and a yellow liquid in the form of a net was shot from his other hand pointing away from the wall. It grabbed at the pile of bricks stacked on the floor, and absorbed it all into his body at a range. Simultaneously, the hand that pressed against the wall flooded the empty space without bricks with the yellow fluid, which faded off.
And the hole was no more. Finally, after working for three days, Deku was done with setting the bricks in place.
D : (Alright, the wall and ceiling's finally done. About time! Let's see what I can repair in the playroom.)
Deku lowered himself carefully, and packed his stuff up along with the tankard.
Hoisting Seiene and Totta up by their stomachs, he carried the two children through the wooden door.
T : "... Deku, what's a, uh..."
Totta gently closed the book with a troubled look on her face. Seiene was lying flat on the ground, with her sitting on the region between his back and butt. He seemed too relaxed, and smiled to himself on the ground silently, enjoying the sensation of being... Crushed.
Deku couldn't get used to that. Why would anyone find delight in being crushed?... Or perhaps he was delighted that his sister was interacting with him? Still, to sit on your own brother...
That wasn't something Deku could consent to. If his own big sister sat on him, his spine will give way with certainty.
D : "A what, Totta?"
Deku compressed another pile of sand into a small boulder of sandstone, and tore a small chunk of it out.
T : "... Hi-a... Hi-a... Something... ?"
D : "Hierphacon."
T : "Yeah, that. What's that?"
Vesja's tale was a bit early for Totta to read, he thought. Deku cut another brick out of the sandstone, and continued stacking them on the pile.
D : "... The Hierphacon is a magical artifact used by the warriors of Rugnud to gain an advantage against magi."
T : "'By the warriors'? No one else can use it?"
D : "Nope."
That seemed to peak Totta's interest. She twisted her body slightly, and along with her movement Seiene could probably feel his sister twisting above him since he looked up in wonder... And a silly smile on his face.
The kid's twisted. That was the only thing that came into Deku's mind. He's either twisted to the state where he could only enjoy sensual pleasures, or his senses have warped to the point of being incapable of perceiving joy in a way normal people could.
T : "What kind of advantage does the Hear-thing have against magi?"
The way she planted her arm straight onto his thigh, and the way she kept her legs crossed and her feet on Seiene meant that she was pressing against Seiene with her full body weight.
... Isn't that dangerous?
D : "Have a seat, Totta."
Deku stomped on the floor, and the sand next to him bulged and rose to form a plain stone stool for her to sit on.
Totta finally got up from Seiene and sat next to Deku as he continued the reparations of the library.
D : (Ah. He stopped smiling.) "... Alright. Before we start, Totta, do you know what's the difference between an assumed history, and a true history?"
T : "... Uhm..."
Totta closed her eyes and tried her best to construct a suitable answer.
T : "I think, uhm... An assumed history is the general knowledge of the historic event, often known across the lands as general knowledge. Assumed history is known by commoners who aren't capable of magic, right?"
It was not an ideal answer, but she roughly understood the essence of it.
D : "Good. So how does it differ from true history?"
T : "True history is... Uhm... True history is important! And... It shouldn't be revealed to others carelessly!"
D : "And do you know why?"
Totta was stumped at the sudden question aimed at the void in her head.
T : "... I give up."
D : "True history refers to the detailed descriptions of a legend, inclusive of a legend's past and intensive detail on the subject's actions. True history is considerably more potent because of the fact that the contents of true history can be used in spells without the fear of it being recognized easily - Thus the need to shroud it in secrecy."
Her face warped to one of acceptance as she nodded in agreement to his answer.
D : (Don't nod like you knew the answer all the long, you idiot...) "In any case, Hierphacon is a relic created from Rugnud's true history. Normally, information like this would be withheld severely, but Rugnud has no need to keep its history a secret."
T : "Why not?"
D : "Because it was revealed to prove Rugnud's strength in the first place."
Deku absorbed the pile of bricks to his side, and transitioned them to a place further to his right, to make room for a new pile.
D : "Rugnud, as a whole, is a country with its pride and military might focused around warriors. They have no desperate need for magic - And thus they have no need to hide their history as intensively as their opponents do."
He began pulling another chunk of sandstone toward him to cut into bricks.
D : "Also, Hierphacon is revealed on purpose to send a message towards the magi of the world - We cannot expect our magic to work against them."
T : "What made Hierphacon so special? What message was it supposed to send?..."
Totta swung her legs widely, thirsting for more information.
D : "To understand that first, you must first know what Hierphacon is."
Deku set down the bricks and stones for a breather. It wasn't getting the work done, but he had made significant progress on the destroyed wall. If anything, this was a well-deserved break.
D : (Wow, this is going to be a while. I feel thirsty just thinking about it.) "... Hierphacon is the sheathe of a nameless sword held by Fergus, a child soldier. Supposedly, Hierphacon was an experiment performed by a hired Great Sorceror during that time - The child, Fergus, was to fight a childhood friend of his in battles while the sheathe was to remain invisible. Whenever Fergus won the sparring match, he would keep his sword in the invisible sheathe, and everyone would acknowledge that the warrior has won."
He reached down for a tankard, and sipped the soothing tea from it.
D : "When Fergus lost the battle, he would not sheathe his sword, claiming that he did not bring his sheathe with him that rendered his friend's magic ineffective. Through that lie alone, everyone not involved with the Grand Sorceror's plan believed that the sheathe was the contributing factor to Fergus' success."
T : "How would you even know if the sheathe was the reason why Fergus lost? It doesn't make sense how a sheathe allows him to succeed against magi!"
Totta looked at him with a confused expression. It made too little sense for her to understand.
D : "That's the point, Totta - Hierphacon's existence in itself is one big contradiction."
T : "Hah?"
D : "Just as how Sha'koth strived to create the impossible through deception, the point of the plan was to pretend that the sheathe's presence nullified the opponent's magic. By possessing the sheathe, Fergus was able to achieve victory against his friend's magic, and by not possessing it he could not ward off his friend's magic."
T : "He had the sheathe on him all the time, didn't he?"
D : "Yes, he did. But nobody else knows that. Fergus was simply instructed to walk away without sheathing his weapon when he loses. By doing so, he creates the illusion that the sheathe's presence allows him to nullify all forms of magic against his magus friend. Hierphacon's existence is doubtful in itself - I sometimes wonder if it was a real, invisible sheathe, or if the Great Sorceror constructed a sheathe made in air to give the illusion that the sheathe was there."
T : "But... That would mean that they all lied."
D : "It may be a great, big lie, Totta, but it is a legitimate weapon. People seen wielding the Hierphacon would not be touched by magic."
Deku patted Totta on her head gently.
D : "Besides, everything in existence has its weakness, magic included. Don't look so glum."
T : "... Then what's the weakness of Hierphacon wielders?"
Totta looked up at Deku, her hair swaying gently from a draft that hissed through the unfinished wall.
D : "The problem would be the fact that the sheathe itself repels image power. Magic that bolsters your strength, magic that heals your wounds, they will all fail when cast upon a wielder of the Hierphacon."
Deku noticed the warm afternoon draft flowing in, and resolved himself to finish what he started. He cut another rock into the shape of a brick again, and continued stacking the pile neatly.
D : "The physical state of Fergus was also reflected in the story, you see. Fergus is a child soldier. For a child to become a soldier is unthinkable by itself - His skills with his sword were at a Squire's, no matter how you would look at it."
T : "How does his physical state relate to Hierphacon?"
D : "When Fergus fought, he was told to give it his all. He did know how to fight with a sword, to a certain degree - But his identity as a child is bound to get many looks on him."
Deku hurried his fingers at the sudden alteration of the warm draft into a chilly breeze.
D : "He was certainly no Knight, and his strength does not befit a knight. When he fought well, you would think that Fergus was given ample chances to use his strength to his fullest. But when he lost, he could simply blame the fact that he did not have his 'sheathe' with him."
T : "... I... I still don't understand. What am I not seeing here?"
D : "You're not seeing the fact that he could simply blame his poor performance on the sheathe's absence if he didn't feel like disgracing himself. In other words, when he performed poorly, his opponent was allowed to create the vision of victory, so his magus friend won."
T : "The vision of victory..."
D : "... In other words, image power."
Deku took another sip from the tankard, and looked back at Totta. She had the look in her eye that yearned for the liquid he downed.
D : "... This tea's quite bitter, though."
T : "Let me have it!-"
D : "-if you insist. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Their daily interactions with each other had become something completely natural.
D : "Because Fergus was a child soldier, they expected nothing of him. His image in the heads of the servants, maids, aristocrats and observers wasn't the best, so there was nothing to be surprised at. He was simply a kid with a sword fit to be a Squire in their eyes, one without notable skill or technique, one that would not leave an impression on others. Through that, the debate on whether the Hierphacon nullifies its own wielder's image power is unclear, even now.
Deku wiped the accumulated sweat and grime on his fingers and palms upon his pants, and continued working.
D : "Because of his inexperience, it wasn't hard to believe that he had no skill at all. It wasn't hard to believe that he lacked skill. His image in their head was so simple that he did not seem affected, whether he was wielding the sheathe or not. It's that belief which makes the sheathe's ability to enfeeble the owner possible."
He chuckled, upon reaching that point.
T : "? What's so funny?"
D : "If you think about it from an outsider's point of view, the only reason why this weakness existed was because they didn't use an adult, but a child. Though I suppose having a naive, pure child free from conceit contributed to the realism of the tale, had they simply asked an adult to suppress his techniques when he was losing, and show his techniques when he was winning..."
He grabbed at the tankard Totta held with both hands and took a sip out of the refreshing tea, before handing Totta the drink once more.
D : "... It's such a pity. It was so close to becoming a weapon that could completely nullify the opponent's magic."
Deku wiped the liquid on his lips with his wrist.
D : "... Though, I understand why he chose to do this - Had the Great Sorceror created a weapon that could nullify all magic, that would be unthinkable... Well, not that it's completely bad, if you look at it another way."
He frowned when Bael's image formed in his head. He knew it would happen eventually.
He knew that magic was taking a gamble itself, that only men of the strongest mental fortitude ought to perform it. After all, it was only natural that something of great power could help as much as it could afflict ruin with the same vigor.
But he couldn't hide his disgust at Bael becoming disillusioned by it.
... Was he, really?
Perhaps, Deku was distraught for another reason... Did he really hate image power? Or did he hate the fact that Bael succumbed to it? Or perhaps, just maybe...
... Was he irritated by the fact that Bael was never that strong to begin with, even after knowing her all this time?
T : "So the sheathe can nullify all image power, huh?..."
D : "... Yeah. At least, the original Hierphacon is. Imitations of the sheathe don't perform as well as the original - They can only nullify the simplest magics, but that's to be expected of a fake. Still, because of the tale's nature, Hierphacon nullifies its own wielder's image power, meaning that people who properly train their bodies are the only ones who can use them without penalty."
Deku got up and raised himself to the gigantic hole on the wall and ceiling.
D : "Let's call it a day, Totta. I think this should be enough bricks."
Deku pressed his hand against the wall, and a yellow liquid in the form of a net was shot from his other hand pointing away from the wall. It grabbed at the pile of bricks stacked on the floor, and absorbed it all into his body at a range. Simultaneously, the hand that pressed against the wall flooded the empty space without bricks with the yellow fluid, which faded off.
And the hole was no more. Finally, after working for three days, Deku was done with setting the bricks in place.
D : (Alright, the wall and ceiling's finally done. About time! Let's see what I can repair in the playroom.)
Deku lowered himself carefully, and packed his stuff up along with the tankard.
Hoisting Seiene and Totta up by their stomachs, he carried the two children through the wooden door.
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