The Weeping Swordsman

“As the dark clouds loomed by and birds flee, the air was tensed and the air changed just like a fleeting dream. A battle within oneself, as they both clashed swords for not a goal, but something else. Oh, songs and tales of youth guide us, for the don’t know. Is it to change or remain the same? That’s it for the child gifted with the world’s pain,” the purple-dressed bard sang, plucking the strings of his lute. He sat, crossed legs on a stool, surrounded by adventurers, mercenaries, and the town’s citizens. For a moment of silence, the crowd erupted in a loud avocation.

“Amazing!”

“So beautiful,” a merchant said, blowing into his tissue.

“Just who is this bard”

“Yes, tell us your name”

He remained seated on his stool, staring at the roof, “My name is … No, call me the mauve bard”

The crowd cheered and banged their drinks; the innkeeper struggling to keep them silent. They were also guests at the inn but that doesn’t approve of their noise making. The mauve bard’s eyes remained fixed on the roof. The sudden familiar aura, even when hidden, clashed with another, a battle between two messengers of death. He held his lute and strolled to his room, calling it a night.

As he pushed the heavy door open, the creaking sound echoed through the dimly lit room. Two imposing figures clad in sturdy armor stood before him, their shoulders intentionally exposed to reveal a striking tattoo of a sword piercing a snake. The room fell silent as the bard made his way past them, setting his instrument down on the desk before wearily lowering himself onto the edge of the neatly made bed. With a deep breath, he leaned back and kicked the worn wooden frame at the side of the bed.

“Grand noble Lucas E. Flocke, we have returned from our previous venture,” the man said, “forgive our lateness, we beg of you”

“Yes, sire, forgive us,” the other said. Their heads were still on the floor.

“The current situation, detailed to the very letter, if you please,” Lucas inquired, taking off his purple robe.

“Sire, as suspected. Entering the town wasn’t difficult, but leaving was another matter entirely. We haven’t been able to send in our letters to the council, neither to the nine lords. Bandits are present in the town. The infamous weeping swordsman is dead. Mercenaries were found at the high grounds setting camp and we haven’t been able to deduct what Tony and his men are plotting”

Lucas strolled over to the bathroom, removing his makeup with care, and revealing the natural contours of his face. Using a damp towel, he gently wiped away his sweat, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. As he returned to his room, Lucas reached for a pristine white robe that the inn provided to distinguished guests. His distinctive style and captivating stage presence had earned him this token of recognition, marking him as a figure of significance in the eyes of the establishment.

“Tony is a noble, just like me. He hails from the ninth, and has played a significant role in this kingdom. There is no evidence proving his betrayal of the realms, and even if the realms decide to retaliate, they will be at a loss. Do you know why?”

The men remained silent, shaking their heads against the hard wooden floor.

“They’ll be at a loss,” Lucas said, pulling his long hair. “Firstly, they have to come together, which is just impossible. Not only because of the events of the past, but also because this land proves beneficial for only a few realms. So, this situation brings a smile to some of our dear leaders’ beautiful faces. The ones who care about this land would rather get it back subtly since having an extravagant war can lead to nothing but a bad outcome. Lives and resources may be lost - precious resources, as the lords may put it. Tony played his cards right, but what intrigues me is why he picked this town in the first place, apart from the obvious reason for encouraging a war.”

Lucas lay on his bed and sighed. The world was getting more and more confusing by the passing minute; he thought. How I wish to leave this town early, but alas, I must stay a bit and perform my duties. The letter I received informed me to wear a disguise, a bard in particular, and also book myself in this inn. The sender of said letter was enigmatic, yet I obeyed every letter of it, even the most absurd of all, which was to find a way to inform the mercenaries of my arrival without revealing myself, that is. His two men helped with that. Now his mind entertained a single question: just who sent him that letter? Lucas closed his eyes to fall asleep, then opened them back to see his two men still having their heads on the floor. He chuckled. “Apologies, my men. You may lift your heads,” he said, “And I forgot to inform you, my men, the weeping swordsman is not dead.”

“What makes you so sure, sire?”

“Nothing but an assertion, that’s all”

*

Emilia strolled through the bustling crowd in Pyrovile, growing accustomed to this kind of day after what she had experienced yesterday. Mr. Swordsman and Hudson accompanied her.

“Arrgh, that Tori! How dare she run off like that,” Emilia exclaimed, biting into her skewered meat.

“Well, she did say it was of utmost importance,” Hudson replied, munching on his own meal.

“I get that, but what bothered me was the way she dressed. The innkeeper was kind enough to provide us with some cheap clothes, but why would she choose that, of all things?”

Mr. Swordsman glanced at Emilia, who wore a short blue gown. As requested, she had gloves to cover her arms, and her handbag was strapped around her, with the guide for new adventurers peeking out slightly. He had never seen her like this before and couldn’t help but be captivated by her charm.

“And what are you staring at?” Emilia blushed slightly.

“Just had the sudden realization that you’re a girl”

“What!” she exclaimed, “What made you think I wasn’t one”

Mr. Swordsman chuckled, hiding his smile with his hat. Emilia breathed evenly, composing herself. She looked at Hades, forgetting about the juicy meat in her hand.

“What happened to you?” Emilia asked.

“Is anything the problem?”

“Well, you seem different”

“What do you mean by different?”

“Never mind,” she said, turning away.

As they walked, they came across a group of drummers dressed in intricate, feathered outfits. Their dark skin was adorned with tattoos, with bright smiles on their faces. They passionately beat their drums, creating an enchanting rhythm as dancers twirled hoops of fire around their waists. Emilia and Hudson’s eyes gleamed with admiration, while Mr. Swordsman simply observed, his eyes scanning the surroundings, searching for anything that might pique his interest.

He saw another statue. This one was quite different. It wore a crown and in one hand a sword while the other a torch. This town must love its statues. Realizing how long they spent admiring the entertainment. Mr. Swordsman prompted them to leave and continue the trip. Hudson agreed immediately, even when he was having a strange feeling in his gut. He knew there was a probability of him not seeing his friends anymore since Tony must have left. Even knowing that, he was still nervous, returning to the manor as he and Emilia followed Mr. Swordsman.

Mr. Swordsman suddenly stopped, placing his finger on his lips. The noise of the everyday town grew louder as countless people bumped into them to pass through. The smell of meat and sweat of working men lingered in the air. Mr. Swordsman turned back a bit. They were being followed. The aura he felt behind him grew stronger. He sensed more of them. They went separate ways, some walking towards them. Mr. Swordsman held his hat as they walked past them. It was the mercenaries; one group was heading for the manor while the other went towards the city gate.

“It seems there has been a change to our plan,” Mr. Swordsman said.

“The mercenaries?” Emilia asked.

Mr. Swordsman observed their current situation. The manor was just a few miles away. Keeping Hudson and Emilia there would be the safest since Tori would meet up with them and if Hudson was right about Tony and his men evacuating, then the place should be empty.

“They have started moving towards the volcano. Guess we are running out of time. Emilia take Hudson to the manor and wait for Tori. You all should be safe there. I’m going to stop the mercenaries”

“Got it- “

“I refuse,” Hudson said, cutting her off.

“It’s too dangerous for you out here. The manor is the safest for now”

Hudson held his skewer tightly.

“I know, but I just can’t relax there while the stone makes its way to the volcano. I want to help,” Hudson said, his eyes burning with determination. He figured it out. His friends may not be present at the manor, and even if they were, he wasn’t prepared to meet them.

Mr. Swordsman sighed, “Well we must make haste then, Emilia you’re coming with us”

“But how about Pasta?” she asked.

“Tori will make her way there and rescue him. It will be too much of a risk leaving you alone there”

“He’s my brother. I just can’t leave him. I’m strong enough to handle myself”

“Yet you almost got killed by a mushkin”

“But I killed it, anyway”

More crowds of people walked by. Emilia stood, eyeing him.

“Wait for Tori and don’t do anything out of the ordinary,” he warned, walking into the crowd while Hudson followed him.

Emilia brought out her guide to novice adventurers. She’ll need all the knowledge she can get before raiding a manor by herself.

*

As Tori strolled through the woods, she was surrounded by the calming symphony of birdsong. The earthy aroma of the forest floor mixed with the sweet scent of wildflowers filled her senses with a delightful tingling sensation. In one hand, she carried her trusty scythe, while the other gripped a skewered piece of meat. Tori knew that her excessive consumption of meat was becoming an unhealthy habit, but caring about it now would ruin the meat’s sweetness.

Amidst her contemplation, she couldn’t help but ponder the significance of the various meat-selling establishments in town. Each one seemed to offer a multitude of methods for preparing and serving meat, yet they all ultimately sourced their products from the same animal. While Tori appreciated the diversity, she found herself questioning the deeper meaning behind it all. Despite her disinterest in delving further into this thought, she realized that she needed to direct her focus toward more pressing matters.

“Where am I?” she said, standing still in the middle of the forest.

Tori dropped her skewer and just stood there like a lost child. The last thing she remembered was knocking off some guards, being chased by guards, stealing some meat from a guard, and following some guards outside the gate and now she’s in the middle of nowhere.

“Now what to do”

Tori continued walking, hoping for a stroke of luck. She wished she could return to town and find Tony’s manor, although she had no idea of its location. She had promised to meet them there in her hurry to escape Emilia, who disapproved of her outfit. As she looked ahead, she saw the highlands and the volcano. Since she wouldn’t be meeting them at the manor, it will be for the best to head to the major battlefield instead.

*

Pasta found himself in a tense situation, surrounded by mercenaries and guards. Tony had just won a game of chess, while Hack was searching for someone to vent his anger on.

“What’s he doing here?” he growled.

“Mr. Sparrow requested we bring him here,” a guard said.

Hack turned to him, “Is that true you feather freak”

“I find him quite intriguing. There’s no harm in keeping him here in sight”

“Forget about all that. Get him out of here,” Hack said to the guards.

Pasta realized that these were the individuals that Hudson had mentioned, the ones in charge of the whole eruption operation. They were to be absent from the manor by this time. Why were they still here? Pasta thought? This placed some holes in their plan, but knowing his friends, it was nothing too much for them to handle.

He glared at them defiantly. They were still the ones who caused Hudson so much pain and separated him from the ones he loved. The air became heavy. Spears and swords were pointed at his neck, but Pasta remained unfazed, maintaining eye contact with the three men. Despite their old age, these men had experienced their fair share of war and hardships, especially the man with the bird, the only one to his knowledge who possessed a gift. Mr. Swordsman was right. It was extraordinary. He could not forget the image of a small bird transforming into such a majestic and powerful beast. The Sparrow guy also said something about a guy named Hades. Guess he’s also a freak, Pasta thought.

“Try anything funny and I’ll dye the floors with your blood,” a mercenary threatened.

Mary and the others discreetly observed the scene, realizing their plan to help Pasta escape had been discovered.

Pasta took a moment to calm himself, visualizing a waterfall to soothe his anger. He knew that being angry wouldn’t help his situation; instead, he needed to find a way to compromise. However, he wondered what he could offer these influential individuals in exchange for his freedom.

“Hey look, guys, I mean no trouble. I promise just let me go and you’ll never see me again”

“Tell me, child, what are you doing in Pyrovile?” Tony asked.

“Just sightseeing”

The mercenary kicked him over, “Stop your lies, you bandit”

“Return him to his cell. There’s no point in keeping him here for games,” Tony commanded.

Pasta was pulled out of the room and escorted to the cell. As he passed the workers, he made eye contact with Mary and nodded.

The others were excused, leaving only the maids and some guards.

“My Lord, preparations for your departure are complete”

“Inform all the workers to get ready,” Tony said, turning to his friends, “We all are aware of our assigned tasks, are we not”

“This is just absurd, staying here to oversee the situation. What if we don’t make it in time?”

“Abandon your worries friend, there’s no reason to fret over such trivial matters,” Sparrow said, playing with his small companion.

“Yes, it is our duty and we must see it through to the end. Sparrow will stay at the mansion with some workers to maintain appearances for the public. Hack will join the mercenaries in raiding the town for the bandits and the person we all know. Meanwhile, I will personally oversee the project, which will take at least thirty minutes to complete.”

“So we have just thirty minutes and you expect us to be calm about it?!” Hack exclaimed.

“I have no fear of death, especially if it is for the greater good of our ruler, the strongest of them all.” Hack bowed his head, gripping the edges of his walking stick.

“I too am willing to sacrifice my life for him,” Sparrow added.

Hack placed his hand on his forehead and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. Why risk their lives for their master? He wondered. It was already too late to back down. They must see this through to the very end.

“I almost forgot, Sparrow, I have something for you.” Tony clapped his hands, signaling a butler to bring over a briefcase. The butler placed it on the table in front of them and opened it, revealing a chart with markings representing the town of Pyrovile.

“This town has great historical significance, making this information valuable. It will play a crucial role in helping both you and Hack escape when the gate is sealed from the outside.”

“Why should Sparrow have it when he’ll be at the manor?” Hack questioned.

“It’s only fitting for him to have it, as he will be able to operate the mechanism, potentially speeding up the process,” Tony explained.

Hack stormed out of the room in frustration. Sparrow picked up the paper and adjusted his monocle to get a better view, a smile forming on his lips. The ancient society that once thrived in this town was truly fascinating.