We are all travellers searching for a home, our home, an unique home. That's what my Oka taught me before... Aera, where is your home?
~Kagetsu no Hyo'Ah
A Ranger's Tale
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"I have to go somewhere.
Alestrial, may you be happy forevermore."
Guy Cody never looked back
once, a lion’s solitary back turned against a longing Cinha maid. Alestrial
reached out her hands, she ended up with naught. Their parting place was one
made in irony, the silent beauty and fluttering dragonflies reminding Alestrial
Eliaden that the golden roses currently in bloom will wilt away soon enough.
She tried saying something, she could only form words unspoken in her mind.
'Tis like our secret garden six
years ago, verily the same place we pledged ourselves to each other’s warmth.
)0(
"I,
Hugue Lloris, thereby pledge my blade at your beck and call, fairest Maistress
Alestrial Eliaden."
If
Hugue’s declaration had scored any positivity amongst surrounding watchers,
they merely rolled their eyes in contempt. This was merely a stranger’s boy
laden with dubious background, this was a boy besting others much more eager to
prove themselves. His ease in disarming opponents was alarmingly quick, all
comers resented his tactic of sneaking out a hidden dagger on them.
"Cheater!
Rogue, knave!"
Hisses
and boos erupted as Hugue betrayed only a smile, he knew a ship of fools
greeting him from one mile off. Nobody dictated a ban on hidden weapons, the
spectators wouldn’t mind seeing one of their own doing the same. Thus, it was
now down to Alestrial Eliaden making the decision.
And I know she will rule in my
favour.
"Rise,
Hugue Lloris," smiled the Cinha lady wistfully, a noisy crowd swiftly silenced, "Your request is now granted."
)0(
The
uproar finally pacified, Alestrial did not know what Hugue has done to stifle
them for good. Jarvis Dukes had sent hours before his finest maidservants
before her, she only felt an obligation to duty rather than love. Her trip
smoothly paved, Seaside’s finest villa was hers alone. Jarvis minded not Guy’s
abrupt presence, he paid little heed on Yeras’ occasional escapades. Yet, rumours
of a young lion clashing head on against Lerry Dukes’ sole heir apparent have
yet to fade away from the household.
"Lloris..."
murmured Alestrial, her eyes staring at phantoms emerging from shadows of the
past.
"You
seemed troubled over my family name," inquired the seated lad as he
surveyed his mistress gazing beyond open windows, a tone showing nothing but
respect.
"It's
nothing, Hugue," smiled weakly the Cinha girl, "Just that you
reminded me of someone I know before."
"And
he is no longer around?" inquired Hugue, an eyebrow raised.
"Well,
yes indeed, fairest Hugue,” answered Alestrial as she took a sip of tea, “By
the way, how old are you?"
"This
end of winter will mark my twenty first year, Milady."
"So
I see..."
Alestrial
dismissed Hugue soon afterwards, an evening slumber descending onto her where
demons from the past still haunted her life.
)0(
"Father! Why?"
For the first time in my life, I hated the man whom I call father.
Even if I am merely adopted, a False Noble in truth, this fact means nothing to
me. They say Louthes has always devoted the best for his only daughter, I know
this daughter they speak of should be a son. In protecting me from any and
every harmful words from knaves both rich and powerful, my father was only
affirming that he won’t have anyone as a legitimate heir. That’s why a Lord of
his standing can throw forth a callous reply denying any logic of black and
white.
What has Naran ever done to warrant cruel taunts excused as
straightforward jest? There was a perfectly fine girl waiting for his return
and our friendship doomed everything promised by life. No one, both greatest
and the least, should ever shoulder a wrong not committed by themselves. This
is a teaching handed down from my mother. Not a mother by blood, but rather the
lawful wife of Louthes Eliaden.
Emma Watts Eliaden, fairest of all ladies, a Kalaran rose of gold
blessed with thorns.
I hate that manner of eulogy, but it is something I need to get
used to from everybody around me, stranger or acquaintance. Nobody came to her
when she was breathing her final last, only through my father’s call did one
entire circle of nobility flock to mourn.
"I have a dream and this dream still stands. I hope to earn enough
for Kelyn, to seal my promise made. I know she will be waiting for me and no
other man. I only have this much currently, I hope Milady you will still grace
my biggest day with your mere presence by then."
Naran once told me his dream, this was a simple dream. Guy
believed in something like that as well, that’s why he is now proving his worth
behind Merseyside’s plainest walls. Kelyn has moved on, she has found a man
equally good. But that was only because Naran had already committed suicide
weeks ago, a dead man found hanging on a bough nearly shattering those he
loved.
"Your choice of friends will affect many including those you
profess to love."
A kind decision bringing about a brutal ending in return, I still
can remember his suicide note left behind.
Murderers, every one of them around me, every single word
whispered from the lips. Even if they like me are smallborne affirmed since
birth… Milady, if you see this letter, it will only mean one thing. Tell Kelyn
to find another man better than Naran Lloris, this I only ask that much.
)0(
An
apathetic Guy Cody eyed the clock tower as a march dedicated for the dead
proceeded on. Kalaran Empire was indeed an Empire in all things good, the clock
tower being one of its icons. This was something invented by the School of
Structuring, whatever knowledge relevant privy only to the highest echelon. But
then again, the same standard applied to every creation coming from the Trinity
College.
Then
there was the wake going on right now. A good number tearing up to the brim,
far more of the rest cared for not their lead. Guy suddenly recalled the Red
Lions’ principles written in black and white, dastardly cadets running afoul
was not something new. Mayhap there existed a certain truth behind Lukas'
advice prior to him leaving Merseyside for good.
Do anything, but don't get yourself caught. Word has it that
Moggray Tonn is one hell of a stubborn jackass capable of whitening any actual
jackass’ anal face, so I guess Teesside is worth a balloting shot.
Perhaps
it was down to an innate gift of insight, maybe it was just about punishing
experiences dealt and equally harsh lessons learnt. But no matter what,
everything was clear before Guy’s sapphire gaze. Someone has increased the
stakes, there’s nowhere to escape. Within a moment's flash, Guy spotted the
name of she who was waiting for putting to rest.
Evania Tonds. A beautiful name trampled by not so beautiful monsters.
"Do
you desire vengeance for a filly not of Alestrial's person?"
The
sandy blond swivelled behind, a wizened visage grinning back. No lion would
buckle under any fear, yet Guy Cody could perfectly sense something amiss. The
world around him was no longer in motion, birds frozen in the middle of flight
being the first sign captured. Chimney smoke rising moved no more higher up,
everything alive became statues of living flesh and bone. Had not Guy Cody
being part of this world, all would have seemed far more in place within
tapestry art.
"All
hail the Lion of Teesside," bowed the elderly Human slightly, his emerald
eyes not leaving the target for a single second, "Guy Cody, I presume."
"What
do you want?" asked Guy warily.
"You
surely know how to ask pointless questions, you really remind me of my protégé
not so bright," came the replying sigh, "The name's Ziron by the way
so that you don’t have to address me improper."
"Quit
playing mind games with me, old fuck."
"Oh
my, you’re not the idiot others assume to be, it seems," quipped Ziron, a
wistful smile vanishing swiftly just as it started surfacing, "Unfortunately,
I'm not out to retell stories unworthy of recount."
"Let's
get straight to the point then. No one asked you to talk cock."
Ziron
chortled quietly in his heart, Aor was not lying when the First True Apostle
said this is a favour in disguise.
"Do
you wish vengeance for the girl? Evania Tonds was a victim of her own foolish decision, her suicide is proof of the most cowardly murderers."
"Don’t
know, don’t care," Guy Cody knew he was deceiving himself, he merely hoped
for this surrealistic drama to end.
"Not
even an idiot desires a life of self-loathing," answered Ziron matter-of-factly,
“Are you worse than a retard?"
"You
know what I seek, old man."
"And
it might not be all that you can live for," Ziron tried hiding his inner
pain while mouthing those words, he hope the boy won’t bust the lie.
He senses I know Aeranath.
Indeed I shouldn’t underestimate the impact of a Blood Pledge.
"Shut
the hell up. You're in it with that devil, I know it!" snarled the sandy
blond lion, his knuckles cracked and whitened.
Well, shit happens in life.
Aeranath, you've created a fine masterpiece for yourself…
"And
do you perceive yourself as 'him'?" Ziron found no mirth in his own reply,
there was nothing similar discovered in his previous mental jab.
Factual
reasoning sung a taunting dirge as Guy Cody released a primal roar. Gae Buidhe
unleashed in a blinking of an eye, Ziron was way faster than the swiftest steed.
Disarmed and robbed of his golden spear, the young lion became the undeniable
loser. Staff gripped in his right hand and the left holding Gae Buidhe, no
display of mercy was shown on Ziron's visage. Guy expected a killing blow
knifed into his neck, he ended up with damning words whispered instead.
"Do you remember what caused your first outburst? Alestrial
Eliaden stopped you via merit of gentleness, but she’s not your source of
actual strength."
With
Gae Buidhe's tip easing away from the living vanquished, Ziron tossed it casually
in front of Guy's wide eyed stare as a form fading away conceived forth
information unasked for.
Go to the First District where you can try asking where the
Dancing Flame is. If your perception is truly this sharp, you'll know what my
statement mean.
)0(
Old
Lalas had never witnessed before a horrendous scene like that, his horrified
eyes of reddish brown fixated on a crazy murderer grinning like that Crazy Jack caught two years ago. The
veteran successfully mobilised his men within minutes, every man failed to
prevent a massacre happening in the Dancing Flame. This dark knave in question
was ruthlessly efficient, scores were murdered indiscriminately. Chief
Constable Lalas Awn was no fool, he knew hundreds more beyond the porch could
have been easily slaughtered.
I really fucking hate this job now. Lalas Awn, you better resign
straightaway if this crazy motherfucker doesn’t kill you.
As
if reading his thought, the stranger strode towards Lalas and the rest. One
step forward versus three steps taken back, this was one man against twenty.
Lalas had been around for the past decade as a part of this city’s Watch, he
was no stranger to an occasional Ranger or two wandering around. Be it executing fugitives or banking in gruesome
proof of bounties claimed, the forty year old bloke had seen it all. As he tried
readying his quavering men for battle, that one lone wolf shrugged nonchalantly,
a cold blooded butcher uttering a cold blooded statement.
"Well,
you understand one thing? There's no sin in calling a bastard a bastard," a
devilish smirk accompanied a shocking act, a bloodless female head severed was
punted across the bloodied floor. Lalas
felt his head turning light, this was his first time facing such a predicament.
He never bothered looking back, he did not want to see whatever reaction from
the rest.
"This
is the Watch of Bargen City, I hope you’re prepared to face truth and justice."
The
Ranger cared not for empty threats, he merely raised a middle finger.
"For
truth and justice? You don't seem that poorly weak to me.”
Lalas
swore that if he had a Goblin’s Cocktail in hand, he would have flung it across
without second thoughts. Never mind if he got burnt due to some loopy
technology created by those greeny pyromaniacs.
"If
you want to bust me, go ahead," wagging his finger before the Watch, the Ranger
retained a certain cocksure air, "The name's Aeranath. It’s every man’s
rightful task to make the watchmen’s job easier, no?"
The
local Watch tensed up immensely while Lalas attempted his best in swallowing a
pill of shock. Irrational words spoken from one deprived of rationale, one
trickling second was an hour too long. Possessing no qualms in leading his prey
around in circles, a wolf's freedom belonged only to itself. Death was the
banker, a game of Dead Man’s Hand about to reach that final round. Yet, the
banker would never be the winner with Aeranath knowing the first rule all too
well.
The banker only has the right
to deal and decide, the gamers are the ones playing out their cards.
)0(
Guy
could not believe his eyes. The Dancing Flame was baptised in a sea of flaming
white, the irony behind its fate not lost unto him. Random sermon years ago coming
to mind, the preacher back then was warning her listeners dire consequences
caused by unlawful worship and mass orgies. The Kalaran lad was never an
imbecile, he was never blind to every virtue extolled by the Church.
The
Soldier, The Poet, The Scholar, The Craftsman, may worthy deeds be done for the
world.
One
single Father to rule them all, one Holy Quintet to rule and judge, may the
worthy rule the world.
Everyone
had heard of Moggray Tonn's disdain for the Church, but only in recent nights did
Guy Cody try contemplating whether sinners will go to Heaven and the blameless
departing for Hell. He used to believe whoever tending the herd, his only
relative destroyed any falsehood before he was even ten.
Fuck all of this! Fuck the
Quintet, fuck the Church! Why didn't they help my brother and his wife? All
they left behind was a child, their only firstborn child. The boy had nothing, do
you think my failure as a comedy? I may be an uncouth soldier before, but I’m still
a man, dearest Patron. One more sneering word and I will wrench your jaw apart.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, should ever judge my nephew's worth!
"Yeah,
fuck the Quintet, fuck the Church, fuck that bitch," snorted Guy derisively, "And
to think I used to blame Uncle Parky for that episode."
"They're
all dead," rang out a mocker’s voice akin to a death knell, "Not including the
Watch of course."
Guy
spun around to face that one person masked by surrounding darkness, he knew the
owner of that thrice damned tone. Ranger versus an ordinary soldier, Fencer
against a Lancer, wolf and lion alike sized each other up with neither taking a
foolhardy move. Guy drew up a cruel grin, his battle stance ready to strike.
Aeranath chose not to make a move, his left hand resting casually on the pommel
of his sword. With a silent snarl and a furious roar, the young lion of
Teesside ripped open a wound across the wolf’s shoulder. As if ridiculed by
Fate should it really exist, Guy cursed his lacking luck as potential success otherwise
was cruelly brought to naught.
Why can’t I kill that thrice damned fucker? What the fuck is wrong
with me?
"What
the fuck is wrong with you, boy?" whispered Aeranath, "Why don't you kill me,
boy?"
Guy
Cody retreated three steps behind, Aeranath took one foot forward. The sandy
blond was trapped in the irony of his unspoken words, his hated foe’s comment
being a mirror truest to the self.
"I...
I could have killed you!" hollered Guy, "It's just that I'm feeling
merciful now!"
Aeranath
then howled with gleeful madness, Guy Cody knew himself the answer why. Killing Aeranath on the spot would resolve everything from hurt to anger. And
killing Aeranath might not be so different from killing himself for reasons unknown.
Guy could sense what is going wrong, he couldn't find an answer proper no
matter how.
"What
are you living for?" an abrupt verbal assault initiated had nailed the
Kalaran Human for good, his jaw and knuckles tightly clenched. And all because
of unexpected calm coming from a monster expected.
Tip
of adversity's blade levelled horizontally, it took young Guy only one split
second to feel the slightest sting piercing against his throat. He knew no fear
against any enemy prior to this moment of reckoning, a pulsating chill careened
into his hollow courage. Trying to mouth the source he now understood so well,
not even a garble greeted a wolf whose fangs have closed around the lion's
neck.
Spectre
of death looming near, its commanding hand shattered a grave prepared. Forceful
slam knocking the stuffing out of Guy, cold hard bricks became his bed and cushion.
A moment utmost brief created for him hours passing by, a curse proclaimed by
an azure glare was whispered into the ear.
"Toe the line drawn for you, little
boy. You're not me, wolves and lions don’t wear the same coloured coat. Once
you get busted breaking the rules, I'll be the rightful one claiming your head.
Get me?"
)0(
Ceres, O’ fairest Ceres! Why do you leave me, why do you have to die by
rape and ruthless force? I promised to protect you, swore to love you, wanted to cherish
you. In the end, all my hands remember is a severed head and your naked body bare.
O’ Arondight, what is thy
mortall name?
O’ Arondight, what art thou?
)0(
Brek
Lagger was never one knowing fear, his buddies and him were renowned as Rape
Elite. Everybody gave them respect, everybody worshipped them. Fellow youths
looked up to them, older folks never chastised them. Every lass they desired,
they would obtain. Either by sweet nothings or by force, it did not matter.
That was until a hulking youth deceptively fast cornered the entire lot with
their backers soiling their pants.
"The
Rape Elite? Hah!" spat the grizzled man upon a faceless body smashed, "Indeed a
name half of pomp and full of shit! Have you ever stared before the maddest of
men?"
Brek
smiled deviously as he knew that barbarian’s time would soon be up. His father
had a certain standing as a martial instructor, Lagger senior had crept unknown
behind that madman’s back.
A heavy broadsword tried
cleaving off a monster’s head, a gauntlet of blackest steel blocked the blow. A
feral bellow and a downward arc, no one saw how Sandas Lagger was reduced to half a man.
"Have
you ever withstood the bloodiest death?" growled the crazed killer after Brek and his entire Rape Elite got decimated apart, "I have seen honour and chivalry,
killing noble men living like thieves robbing women of their lives…"
O’ Arondight, thou hast avenge
Ceres ages agone, yet cometh first this hamlet of knaves, then Gisborne.
)0(
Background notes:
Dead Man's Hand is common card game played by mercenaries where the banker is the only dealer and decision maker. Any loot obtained is considered fair game in terms of placing stakes. In particularly, attractive women obtained are extremely prized, hence reserved for every final round. One interesting fact about this peculiar gambling game is that the banker can never be the gamer.
It's a common tradition for a noble lady conducting any manner of tournament in order to select her personal champion.
Crazy Jack is a notorious mass murderer best known to target random womenfolk. Sentenced to hang swiftly after he was caught, Lalas Awn was credited for this fine deed of law enforcement. However, it remains a mystery why he never chose to rape his victims before killing them.
The Watch is a uniform system of law enforcement where it's role is to oversee everyday law and order. Given the nature of events in Chapter 1 though, it's pretty much a no-brainer that they will always work hand to hand with the local Red Lions.
Watchmen is the standard term for members of the Watch. At the same time, it's also used in a derogatory way.
The Watch is a uniform system of law enforcement where it's role is to oversee everyday law and order. Given the nature of events in Chapter 1 though, it's pretty much a no-brainer that they will always work hand to hand with the local Red Lions.
Watchmen is the standard term for members of the Watch. At the same time, it's also used in a derogatory way.
Ziron is capable of some crazy shit despite being a half
assed-existence. Whether Aera knew about it though is another question
altogether.
Blood Pledge is a plot vital plot mechanic, so no spoilers from Mr Maker himself.
Info on the Church and Wolves:
)0(
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