)0(
A Ranger’s Tale
)0(
“Ah… I’m
so tired,” whined a tanned Cinha girl, her Causacean counterpart raising an
eyebrow.
“But I
thought you’re used to hard labour, Lol.”
“The
name’s Lolyx, not Lol,” snapped the peevish lass, the irony behind such a
reaction not lost unto her, “You got a good life comparatively, Ceres.”
“I was
only in charge of the kitchen,” frowned the attractive brunette, her auburn
locks ruffled.
“That’s
because my family is piss poor and my old man couldn’t pay off his gambling
debts,” Lolyx stuck out her tongue in reply.
“Lolyx?”
“Yes,
what?”
“Do you
believe everything is too good to be true?” Ceres continued whispering, her
dark brown orbs focused on a flock of crows passing by.
“Yeah, I
know why,” frowned a puzzled Lolyx, “I mean that Sarel whatever was willing to
offer us this tavern despite neither me nor you asking for anything.”
“But it
seems weirdly nostalgic,” smiled Ceres wistfully, “As if this will be our
home.”
“Bah,
only for you,” scoffed Lolyx, her eyes betraying a nasty glint, “That stupid ass
Lars better come back home as soon as possible.”
“Let’s
just get some sleep,” sighed the fair redhead, “Annie Nan will scold us if we
happen to doze off again.”
)0(
This
wasn’t a fair fight, Guy Cody knew as much. The problem had never been about
Bart’s handicap, but rather his unnerving calm in spite of this. Losing count
of minutes passing by, the young lion could only maintain his narrow glare
against that smirking bat. As he paced about attempting to find an opening, the
Kalaran lad started analysing the situation. Only to find nary a clue with Bart
betraying nothing bar his own back against the wooden railing.
Fuck that scoundrel, he’s
purposely standing ground on the Sea Conch.
The Sea
Conch, a ship named after that legendary war horn owned by Gibron the Seafarer.
Said to possess a commanding aura equivalent to a thousand leaders of men, this
was another hero enrapturing Guy’s childhood innocence. To think a fat bastard
like Parnaby Davow is able to come up with that name, noted a sardonic lion both
young and bitter.
“Heroes are not gods, Sand Guy.
Please take note if you really want to be one.”
Gnashing
his teeth before Lars’ mocking advice haunting him, the lion of Teesside
released a snarling roar. Blind Bart taunted him with a dare, he’s now
determined to make this single duel count. Gripping Gae Buidhe tightly in both
hands, a golden streak was deflected even before the tip could reach its
quarry’s throat.
Glowering
against an adversary true, Guy could not fathom where Bart got his daggers
from. He remembered Lukas mentioning something about Histalonian knives
immensely prized for their perfect balance, surely that androgynous friend of
his was no liar. However, that did not answer Guy’s unasked question.
Please don’t tell me he conjured
shit out of thin air…
Then
more daggers flew at him, all seemingly thrown simultaneously. Managing to
parry just one out three unleashed, the lion was wounded. A cut across the
temple and his side, the raging beast in him started calling for blood. Never before
had Guy felt this way until he recalled a certain individual, his damning form
standing tall above a sea of charring dead.
I’m gonna settle the score one
fine day, just you wait.
An
abrupt assault suddenly took place, a flurry of strikes trying to knock Bart
off balance. Whistling in an impressive manner, Bart never imagined the young
upstart pulling off such a daring move. A normal opponent would opt to play
cautious, but not this one. He’s a risk taker and none of those the pirate lord
killed before were guilty of having that trait.
You know my back is facing the
railing. That’s the correct call, boy.
Fortune
favours the bold, Garyth Parkins’ philosophy remained alive and kicking in Guy
Cody’s life. Recklessly bold, yes. But this was why he’s willing to play a game
of dice pitting hope against despair. Blocking the noise released by seagulls
oblivious to the fight below, Guy understood one thing right from the start.
One minor mistake and he might as well bade his life farewell.
Six
lashes was all Guy Cody could manage, seven quick flicks delivered Bart from
whatever danger otherwise. The seventh slash missing its prey by merely an inch
or two, the blind brigand nevertheless stayed focused. Motivated by the scent
of blood was one thing, relinquishing his absolute advantage in defence quite
another. Yet, the boy shall bend his knee before his condescending leer.
With his head missing and his
broad mine to fuck.
Never
one to throw in the fight, a flashing image branded itself deep in his mind.
Playing buff poker had never been so exhilarating before, a bunch of cadets
from the Wearside Division promptly floored. It’s all the young lion needed to
display an offensive intent without constraint, Pallister Scholes was right in
complimenting his drive.
People called you a worthless
piece of shit, but I’ve seen people far better and less focused.
)0(
“Stop
your gaping, boy,” sighed Moggray Tonn, “You’ll catch sea gnats laying eggs on
your tongue.”
Jase
Steele promptly shut his jaw, his gaze nonetheless remained fixated on the
fight.
“What do
you think of him?” smiled Moggray, Jase’s reaction betraying his thoughts.
“I… I…”
“Stop
stammering and say something humane,” snapped Moggray without warning, his grey
eyes suddenly turning hard.
“I’d
gladly wish Lady Karen a blissful union otherwise. Alas once a smallborne,
forever one.”
“That’s
good enough, Jase,” answered the Northern Lion, his grin growing wider, “That
boy already has some other girl in mind.”
)0(
The
aggressive barrage never paused even once, a ceaseless storm forged from gold
and steel forcing Bart into a passive stance. If not for the ability to
materialise knives envisioned from the depth of his mind, he would be feeding
the sharks all by himself.
The gods must be blind to grant
me Denial of Oblivion.
Despite
the furious pressure sustained at breakneck speed, he never wavered a single
bit. No matter how many daggers he broke, a boy shall always be one. All he
needed was a lucky break. And it will come soon enough, smirked the pirate blind.
A
vicious slash received a parry diverting it to the left, Guy shifted his steps
to the right. One fluid turn of his trusted spear and Bart took a glancing
thrust across the bicep. Finally gaining a vital head start, definitely Bart
would collapse from a shrivelled wound soon enough, no matter how minor.
Both
combatants sensed the clock winding down, hours converted to minutes and
minutes turning into seconds. Everything became a blurring myriad, Bart could
only see a lion and Guy Cody a giant bat. Ferocity knew no bounds, agility
deprived of sight proven unfathomable. The wind responded to the violent
conflict ongoing, both combatants’ hair thrashing along the flow.
Then it
all took place in a blur, the lion of Teesside suddenly felt the wooden deck
vanishing into thin air. His body became lighter, the wind chilling his spine.
His ears went deaf from the roaring waves down below, fear soon seized a
stranglehold onto him.
Then he
gripped tightly with one hand a sturdy railing.
)0(
“Shit,”
grimaced Bigan, “Gody’s fucked.”
A slap
promptly knock the wind off his sails, the back of his skull humming a painful
lullaby.
“That
must have been painful for you, so shut up the fuck up Noisy Gun,” snorted
Moggray before turning his sombre visage unto the unnerving scene unfolding.
If
Moggray Tonn managed to maintain his stoic form, Jase Steele chose to sell
himself to turmoil. Attempts to muster any semblance of courage proven futile,
he took a stride forward before getting brutally tripped. Standing on his feet
became a torturous chore, the only child of Brynn Steele realised his ankle
sprained.
“Pain is
good for little boys who don’t know their place,” cooed a squatting Lara, her
eyes never departing from a half kneeling lad of noble birth, “Keep watching the
show, I tell you.”
“A show
of sharks and men,” scoffed Bigan, “You’re a sick whore. Beautiful yes. Sick,
confirmed yes.”
“Let’s
make a bet, shall we?” reaching out for Moggray’s shirt collar, Lara von
Dirkwind plastered her heaving bosom against the veteran’s chest, “If that cub
fails, I will make my move.”
“And
what if this cub is truly a lion walking amongst men?”
“Then I
don’t have to do anything,” winked a winsome Half-Elven rogue.
“None of
us have to, but I won’t call it good news,” frowned the Northern Lion as he
kept chewing his lower lip.
)0(
The
young lion got his breath knocked out, getting winded was never the best way to
resume a fight. In battle, mercy shown would mean self-cruelty. Either Bart had
gone suddenly crazy or he hadn’t got enough of playing. Neither answer seemed
palatable to the young Kalaran.
“You
seem calm for a cub prepared for slaughter,” quipped Bart while digging his
nose, “Tell me your secret.”
“The
secret is very simple,” retorted Guy with a bloody spat, his hand raised in
reply, “If you want to torture me straightaway, my hand would’ve gotten a
knife.”
A
maniacal guffaw accompanied an equally maniacal bandit, Guy Cody stayed stoic
nevertheless. After a brief moment of silent reprieve, Bart offered an
unexpected question.
“What
did you see before I threw you overboard?”
“A bat.
A giant one.”
“And I
saw lion in you, boy. We indeed belong to the same kind.”
“Fuck
you,” snarled Guy, “You can try seeing me send orders to rape a girl, whore or
no whore.”
No
sooner those words left his ashen lips, the young lion doubled over in burning
pain. Scratching his goateed chin with one hand, Bart willed a dagger to appear
in the other.
“You’ve
got three tries, boy. You can refuse once, twice or thrice. Won’t be fourth
time lucky though.”
“Try me
four times then and we shall see who dies,” growled a wild lion walking the
brink of death, Gae Buidhe currently serving as his crutch.
No
sooner the sandy blond voiced his damning intent, a silvery flash tore into his
left thigh. Rendered numb in one leg, Guy Cody continued relaying his vehemence
through a sneering dare. The second dagger struck true, its blade buried till
the hilt at his shoulder. As both hands rejected a truce to loosen grip, knife
number three managed to cut in cleanly at Guy’s abdomen. Nausea immediately
assumed the form of death, Guy Cody could nearly taste its bitter fruit. He
desired a swift death, here and now. Yet, he understood somehow that Bart wasn’t
all that willing. Out of nowhere, however, something clicked in him. A recent
fragment belonging to the past made its return. And with it heralded a glimmer
of future.
Gae Buidhe feeds,
Gae Dearg takes away. If you desire something or someone, surely a relevant
price must be exacted. You’re blessed with an immense willpower, maybe that’s
why you’re so batshit crazy.
)0(
“Wha…
what the fuck is that?!” exclaimed Bigan, his stubby finger jabbed towards
Guy’s direction while Moggray and Jase enrooted themselves with fearful awe.
“As if I
know,” drawled Lara, her smile divulging admiration and mayhap something so
much more, “The cub has finally grown an impressive mane.”
)0(
The wind
suddenly turned twice as violent, the lion of Teesside relishing a dirge
reaching its crescendo. How much had Gae Buidhe consumed, he perceived not. How
much was required to unleash Gae Dearg, he understood fairly well. That playboy
Lars was right in calling him batshit crazy.
The
spear remained unchanged in form and length, yet from refined gold it became a
burnished red. If Gae Buidhe represented mortality, what then about Gae Dearg’s
meaning behind fatality? Guy Cody failed trying out the latter on Aeranath last
time round, this blind murderer would fill in nicely.
A dagger
was promptly flung swiftly, its point aimed at his forehead. With the sharpest
flick of his wrist, the Crimson Thorn of Fatality cut open the space before
Guy’s sapphire gaze. A crimson crescent lashed out at the dagger, an otherwise
deadly projectile ended up shattered. In a blinking of an eye, the horizontal
arc narrowed itself into a fiery arrow. Bart barely managed to evade the lethal
lance, its wrath claiming instead a hostile crossbowman perched upon the
opposite stern.
Caring
not for his own man receiving a shattered skull with brains showering the rest
below, Bart continued fighting the duel he craved so much for. His nerves
wracked with ecstasy, never before did he ever had to fight such a difficult
opposition. His leer soon transformed itself from sadistic to enthusiastic, now
was the time to feel alive.
Damn all the bitches and riches. My time and destination has finally arrived.
His
previous composure unflappable suddenly collapsing, such was the choice made by
self-volition. Languid movement moments ago morphed into a flurry of
foolhardiness, his defensive poise abdicating its throne in favour of a
daredevil fighter.
With one
moment gone, both repelled each other. Come the second moment passed, Guy Cody
stood his stubborn ground. The third was punctuated by crimson lashes and blood
red bolts, by the fifth a giant blind was finally mutilated beyond recognition.
This was a victory for the supposedly weak, a lion meek nary the truth.
Then Guy
Cody finally fell face down, for not even a lion living amongst men could wish
to vanquish every foe.
)0(
“How
long in the blue fuck must we wait?” grumbled a tattooed boy no older than
thirteen, “Boss, I’m so…”
“Hungry,”
completed Kymm Lios, “You’re my underling, Alaud. Don’t force me to repeat the
same ol’shit.”
“Hey!”
hollered Alaud abruptly, “I hear food!”
“Hear
that rapping sound, boys?” shouted Kymm, his boisterous gang reciprocating the
upcoming challenge, “Moggie’s tellin’ us to bust major ass! Woo!”
)0(
“Here’s your home, Guy. Make
yourself comfy, don’t feel shy!”
I looked at the man calling himself
Uncle Parky, his face is surely lined with scars. I tried telling him time and
again, he said I should try getting some sleep once we reach home.
Home… why do I feel my real home
should be at somewhere else? This looks like an inn, only without many girls.
“Oi, Nan! Crazy Park is finally
back!”
Wow, that’s one noisy man. I
thought people his age tend to be quieter. Wait, who said that? I know somebody
did, but I just can’t…
“Yer basterd o’a willie, finelly
willin’ ta come home?”
Okay, make that two noisy adults.
“Nan Annie, meet Guy Cody. Guy,
just call her Annie Nan.”
Trying a straight gaze at that
old woman is pain, I just don’t like her stern look. Human, yes. Nice, no. Then
come my most dreaded moment.
“Yer Crazee Parkee’s neh’few? Dat
man’s batsheet loonee, lern frum ya’dadee instad. ‘appen ta’ kno ‘im. Gut’d fer
bee’nain Gerod…”
I don’t understand a word that
sad woman says, but I know who is Gerod. He’s…
Wait, who is Gerod exactly?
)0(
“What’s in that skin bag?”
I glowered at that retarded kid,
definitely curiosity won’t bring him back to life.
“Piss.”
Well, guess what? Brat’s look is
fucking priceless. Willing to wager my best wine here on every whore willing to
pay him for a shag or three.
“It shouldn’t be piss,” frowned
the sandy blond little boy, “I thought piss is the water coming out of us.”
Moral of the story: Not every
curious kid is stupid. I’m gonna have fun with this.
“Oh, but we sellswords do drink
piss and eat shit.”
“Liar.”
I find him sticking out his
tongue somewhat grotesque, it must have been how I disembowelled some sick fuck
bounty who got his kicks from castrating little boys.
“Ceres is teacher. She explained
piss and shit to me.”
A teacher? Must have been an
attractive spinster.
“Tell me how old this Ceres of
yours is, so that I can pay her some money.”
Oh fuck, boy doesn’t look happy.
He must have been to some whorehouse without getting educated.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,
but I don’t like your tone,” retorted a little boy mightily pissed off.
“You might as well say you don’t
like my expression also.”
I hope he gets my answer because I
hate playing petty arguments with petty little folks. Go eat shit, Ziron.
“Expression? You mean face? But I
only don’t like your tone!”
Someone here must have gone full
retard, it’s either me or him. I’m willing to give myself that benefit of doubt
though. Guess I should really pay this Ceres a visit.
“Ceres is only thirteen and she’s
a teacher. She doesn’t work in that inn full of girls because I don’t like the
men there.”
Okay, something’s definitely
wrong with his education. Decent people don’t let their kids wander about. Can’t
say the same for these decent folks, what a shame.
“Here, take this.”
Entrusting my wineskin to someone
incapable of appreciating liquor must have been my craziest stunt thus far, but
I don’t care. Hyo’Ah was right in questioning my common sense till death did us
part.
“Take this piss and sell it for
some money. Get me?”
No answer given, only crickets
chirping in the cool evening sky. But then again, what else do I expect from a
kid who happened to take a wee little swig? The night is gonna be long and full
of bullshit.
)0(
