The Weeping Swordsman

The sky churned with dark, smoky clouds as a fierce wind howled through Pyrovile. The ground trembled as the people of Pyrovile frantically ran around the towering great walls, all desperate to leave the town. At the main gates, torches flared and pitchforks clashed, the crowd’s desperate cries for freedom, while their children cried and some men succumbed to hopelessness. Amidst the chaos, mercenaries trampled over the lifeless bodies of city guards, laughing as they watched the townspeople below. They stood atop the city’s gate, positioned on the wall’s walkway. The entrance door had been replaced with an unyielding stone wall. Any attempt to breach its door or the walls was met with a quick death.

“Get us out of here, you brutes! Open the gates. I have people you know. They’ll come for you,” a townsman yelled, his wife and child clutching on him. “Just open the damm gates. Please, just open the damm gates!”

The mercenaries went and picked up a bottle of stout, pouring themselves a drink.

“Bad weather today. It’s affecting my drink, making it lose its sweet taste,” complained a mercenary. He, like the others, wore a helmet and chainmail armor to protect themselves from any potential attacks by the townspeople.

“Not exactly. These noisy critters already have succeeded in ruining the taste,” another said, drinking down.

The townspeople grew angrier and began throwing flaming projectiles at the gates, but to no avail, despite the threat of the mercenaries if they did anything funny. Desperate individuals attempted to climb the walls but were shot down by arrows. Mercenaries were also present in the town, indulging in their own brand of amusement and causing trouble for the locals.

Pasta observed the guards on the walls. The jump was too high for him to make, and even if he did, he would be too slow to take care of all of them at once. The volcano was about to erupt. It looked like Mr. Swordsman and Pasta had failed their mission but for some reason, Pasta and Emilia weren’t bothered about it. They were at an inn, with Emilia researching some books to find out more about the statues, Kot out gathering more, while Little Bobby joined Pasta in staring out the window. It was a cruel sight. For once, Pasta wished Mr. Swordsman was here, even though he wasn’t happy about it. Pasta eyed Little Bobby.

“You’re not going to fight them? You’re clearly capable of taking them on. Or does seeing your people like that please you?” Pasta asked, glaring at Little Bobby.

Little Bobby sighed. “I understand why you say that, but those mercenaries are not weak. They may be all drunk and celebrating, but their aura,” he said, his face growing stern, “only a bit of it is being hidden behind their frivolous behavior.”

Pasta’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“If what Emilia claimed is indeed true, then it’s no surprise. Lord Tony does not unintentionally make mistakes when planning these things. The gate is far from the town, and so are the tall walls, preventing any skilled warrior from using the buildings here as a boost. Mercenaries are stationed above every section of the wall, all skilled with the bow and sword, while some are simply beasts who live to kill. I have no doubt some may be outside, waiting for us,” Bobby said, turning back to the view out the window. “But to think that Lord Tony has abandoned us…”

Pasta bowed his head and clenched his fists. So this is how a warrior thinks. He observes his opponent’s strengths and acts accordingly. Pasta gritted his teeth. He almost ran to a battle with no return. No time to beat them all? He would have been a fool killed the moment he stepped on the wall.

Emilia snuck some peeks of Pasta and shifted back her focus on her book.

The door jolted and burst open, alerting everyone in the room. All the swordsmen reached for their swords, except for Emilia, who raised her hard-covered book for protection.

“I found it!” Kot exclaimed, running into the room.

Little Bobby sighed. “Can’t you knock?”

“Or open the door slowly?” Pasta asked.

Emilia dropped her book. “Perhaps don’t shout?”

Kot sat on the bed next to Emilia. “All for you,” he said, meeting her eyes.

She cringed and moved backward and continued reading her book.

“A turmoil out there and you trying to get yourself a bride,” Little Bobby said, leaning back in his chair.

Kot shook his head. “Though I do have something,” he pulled out a book. The once brown leather exterior is now black, filled with dust and mold.

“What’s that?” Emilia asked.

“I don’t know. It’s all dusty so it must hold something valuable and…” he raised the book. “Here it has a picture of a flame and also here saying, the chronicle archives, so it must mean something.”

Kot eyes sparkled. Bobby sighed and turned to Emilia, who quickly swiped the book of Kot’s hands.

“You’re welcome,” Kot said, proudly.

“How long will it take you to finish it?” Bobby asked.

Emilia chuckled. “I’m a slow reader, but there’s a chapter just about the statues, so I’ll read that instead.”

“Please do”

Emilia read for a few seconds and then sighed. “Hey Kot, Bobby. You need to hear this. Same goes for you, Pasta,” she said, noticing their perplexed expressions as she began.

*

Travelers, they say they were. An energetic circle of youths. Their leader was dead, they say. Believed? Yes. Accepted? They became rulers. The era of hunters had just begun. We were the first to fall to their calamity. I pray that my sins, no, my people’s sins, are forgiven. So they came, all ten of them.

They broke the village’s shackles and stayed, ensuring our hands were always free from both the natural and supernatural forces that stood against us. They had names but secretly refused to tell us; all we knew them by was ‘disciples.’ Disciples of whom? Their dead master? Their powers were extraordinary, and it was frightening to imagine what kind of monster they served. These disciples not only protected us but guided us toward the future, leading the way and illuminating our path. We conquered lands, calling it expansion. We succeeded and named it Pyrovile, the bright town to lead us to the future. Now, our tactical base serves as a fortress for invasion and underneath easy maneuvering. If sometime in the future one wishes to use this path, guide your warriors toward the future—don’t look back. There’s light ahead, and you must save my people and expand our lands. My role serves no further purpose; my flesh and blood, like my people, belong only to this town.

*

“So they are heroes,” Little Bobby said.

“Wait, wait, wait. Pyrovile had a king?” Kot asked.

Pasta stayed quiet, observing the turmoil out the window. The story gave him nothing of use. He wondered why Emilia had asked him to listen.

“This book is over a thousand years old. The calligraphy and strange designs found here prove that. Kot, where did you find it,” Emilia said.

“Sparrow’s mansion. I was sure if there was a book we needed. We could find it there”

Emilia sighed, closing the book. “Pyrovile is a new town. I’m sure of it. The whole place was in shambles before the great lords decided to build a town”

“Yes, it is new. But some statues here appear to be old. Those must be the ten disciples the king spoke of. But what must we do? Lady Emilia?” Bobby asked, getting off his seat.

“I have no idea,” she said as she sprawled on the bed. Everyone depended on her. She had asked for a particular book and luckily had received it. Yet, she still wasn’t able to deduce the meaning of those statues. Father was wrong about me, she thought, covering her face with the book as she searched her mind for an answer.

“Don’t push yourself too hard, Emilia. It’s okay. Take all the time you need,” Kot said gently, as he reached out to pat her head.

“Yes!” Emilia yelled and ran out of the room. Everyone stared at the entrance, shocked. Emilia came back. “What are you guys waiting for? Let’s go.”

They went outside. The entire area was in chaos. Mercenaries were out burning buildings and causing havoc. The promised escape route was never revealed to them so they resulted to this. The city guards fought against them.

Little Bobby drew his sword and said, ‘I’m sorry, but I need to help my friends get this under control. Kot and Pasta, protect Emilia at all costs.’”

“Will do, boss,” Kot saluted.

Emilia turned to Pasta, who remained quiet.

Lester gave Emilia a small round ball. “Throw this in a huge fire. It’ll lead me to your location”

“Ok”

Kot grabbed the ball off her. “Man, I love this stuff. I’ll help you hold it milady”

Emilia glared at him.

“I’ll gather the townspeople too,” Lester said, grabbing Emilia’s shoulders and meeting her eyes. “Let’s save Pyrovile”

She nodded, and they went their separate ways.

Emilia’s team ran to the nearest statue, which was close to the unfinished town’s main hall.

The statue depicted a man, one hand gripping a mighty axe while the other held a torch aloft.

“It was so obvious. How didn’t I notice?” Emilia said, smiling at the statue.

“What is so obvious?” Kot questioned.

“Go get me a torch. Now Mr. Kot!”

“Mister? I’m a young man, you know”

Emilia eyed him. He dashed and returned with a torch. She ignited the one the statue held.

“Nothing is happening,” Kot said.

Emilia held her smile. “No, look at the eyes”

The once-closed eyes of the statue had opened.

“Damm that’s creepy as hell!”

“Let’s move on to the next,” she said, looking at the chart.

As they dashed through the fiery, tumultuous town, Emilia gazed up at the hazy, smoke-filled sky. They hurried to the next statue, igniting it moved to the next. Meanwhile, some rocks were ejected from the volcano, destroying houses and plunging the townspeople further into panic.

Emilia stood in front of the last statue.

“What now Emilia? We’ve lit them all.” Kot sat on the floor, exhausted.

“I-I don’t know,” she said, clenching her fist. They were so close. She could feel it. The cries and wishes of everyone were heard all over. Why did Sparrow entrust this to her when he could have done it himself? It’s all his fault. His fault everyone will die.

She fell on the floor.

“Emilia!” Kot screamed.

Pasta worriedly ran to her.

Sparrow wasn’t at fault. She is the one here trying to save the people. If anyone was to be blamed, it was her. Emilia sat on the floor, looking up at the last statue. It was a lady wearing a flowing robe. She must have been a legend for her to save the people. Even the king felt like a nobody in her and her friends.

Emilia stared at the statue and bolted out of the court.

“Emilia, wait!” Pasta yelled. He and Kot ran after her. The volcano was about to erupt. She ran towards the market square, where a statue of a king stood, holding a torch. She picked up the torch and threw it on the ground.

“What are you doing, Emilia?” Kot asked.

Emilia breathed heavily and walked back to the king’s statue. Removing the crown.

Emilia closed her eyes as the chaos continued around her. People were yelling for their lives, and mercenaries on the walls were getting ready to dispose of them. Little chunks of lava were spewing from the volcano, getting ready for the eruption. Despite all this, all Emilia could hear was silence, until...

The statue began to rotate. The town’s square fountain was demolished under a spiral staircase leading down appeared.

Emilia laughed, tears streaming down her face. It was here all along. An escape to all this. Kot gasped in disbelief while Pasta let off a little smile.

“We did it!” Kot yelled. “I’m not dying today, dammit!”

Kot retrieved a ball and threw it into the blazing pile of rubble. The ball produced multicolored smoke that rose towards the sky, engulfing the entire square in a vibrant display that captured the attention of everyone in the burning town. As the colors swirled around her, Emilia kept her gaze fixed on the statue. Then she turned to Pasta with a bright smile.

After a few moments, Little Bobby arrived with a crowd running behind him. Kot ran to him, hugging him.

“I’m not going to die!” Kot yelled, clasping his arms around Bobby.

Bobby pushed Kot’s face away. “Get yourself together, man.”

“Is this how you comfort a crying man? Stop pushing me!”

Emilie walked to them. “You brought everyone.”

“Not everyone, Lady Emilia. Most of them came because of the smoke. Who knew there was an underground passage underneath the town?” Bobby said.

“The underground pathway must lead out of the city. The book also has a map leading out.”

“Got it,” Bobby said, looking at the crowd of people as they whispered among themselves.

“Attention, everyone! Our beloved town is under attack by mercenaries, and the looming threat of the volcano puts all our lives at risk. Thanks to our brave friends, we have found a way out of this predicament. We’ll explain everything later, but for now, follow them out of the town. To the remaining guards, adventurers, and anyone skilled with a weapon. I have no right to ask you to risk your lives, but…” Bobby’s voice softened as he bowed his head deeply. “Please help the civilians in need and guide them to the underground passage. We can’t leave the ones back in town to fend for themselves”

“Uh, how can we risk our lives for people we don’t even know? Mind if I remind you, we’re adventurers. We are not obliged to do this,” an adventurer said. Others agreed with him.

“And you call yourselves men?” An old man stepped forward. “These outsiders who discovered the pathway—they don’t even belong to this town. Yet, they chose to help us, to find a way to save everyone. They could have abandoned us and taken the passage for themselves, but instead, they chose to lead us to safety or tell me, are they obliged to do so?”

The adventurers went quiet.

“The old man speaks the truth,” Lucas declared, stepping out from the crowd. “While you lot were busy downing your beers, these strangers have been tirelessly running around the square, finding a way to save us all. Tony’s the head guard. My two men will join you in aiding the townspeople. Use their skills as you see fit to protect the innocent.”

“Thank you for your generosity.” Bobby bowed and wondered about the man. Dressed in such prestigious attire, he seemed every bit a noble, yet the lute he carried marked him more as a wandering bard.

The disgruntled adventurer grumbled as he led his friends into the passage.

“We’ll stand with you, Bobby,” a guard declared, his voice resolute. “The guards of Pyrovile won’t abandon the town in its hour of need.”

“We may be low-ranking adventurers, but we’ll try our best to help the town,” an adventurer said. His party was also willing to help.

“I thank you all,” Bobby smiled as person after person volunteered. Men picking up machetes and anything they can find to fight.

Emilia smiled and ran to Pasta, punching him. “Your turn, big bro, so wipe out that frown, okay?” She waved goodbye and grabbed a torch from Kot.

“I must be blessed by the fire gods to accompany you, Lady Emilia.” Kot complimented and followed her.

She sighed and turned to the people. “Let’s go, everyone.”

Pasta watched her head into the passage. Unnoticed to him, he had a bright smile on. His little sister is all grown up.

They all entered the underground passage while the market square remained crowded with people, with more joining in. The volunteer team went into the town to reduce chaos and guide people to the underground passageway.

At the entrance of the town square. Hack stood with mercenaries behind him. Their path blocked by Pasta and Bobby.

“Listen closely, Pasta. You’ve been feeling down after what I said. But look at yourself—standing here is proof of your strength. I knew that from the day.”

“What’s this about, Bobby? You think I’m scared of these guys? They may be strong, but,” Pasta bowed his head and raised it back up, and swung his sword. “My little sis is leaving it up to me, so I’ll send their faces to the earth with a single strike. They may be strong, but that doesn’t matter, right, Bobby?”

Little Bobby smiled.

“I’ve been searching the whole town for you, bandit? Now you do this and you, Bobby, you disgust me,” Hack said, spitting on the floor.

Lester unsheathed his sword. “You- “

“Would you shut up, old man?” Pasta said, the other guards walking to stand beside him and Bobby. “Who’re you calling a bandit, huh? If you want to speak to me, get my name right,” Pasta pointed his sword. “I’m Mighty Pasta, and I’m going to end your pathetic army right here, right now”

“We all are already dead. I can’t let anyone leave here. So leave my path,” Hack raised his sword.

The mercenaries and guards clashed. Pasta dodged them all. His target: Hack. He jumped and shoved the mercenaries. Arriving at Hack, Pasta swung his sword at him. This was the battle he wanted. Hack blocked his blade.

“You have no business in this bandit. Why are you siding with the people?”

“I told you I’m Pasta! Not a bandit, but an adventurer!” Pasta was pushed back.

“Adventurer? That makes more sense,” Hack pushed Pasta back and with a burst of speed, he swung his sword at him. Pasta’s eyes widened as he struggled to react; the blade was too fast, and his muscles refused to obey. He could only watch as the sword neared his face.

In a flash, Lester intervened, diverting the blade with his weapon and delivering a powerful kick that sent Hack sprawling.

“Are you alright Pasta?”

“I’m fine,” Pasta growled.

“Hack is a renowned warrior from the last war, much like Tony and Sparrow, but he’s even more insane and stronger than both on the battlefield. Leave him to me”

“Insane, you say?” Pasta said, standing up. His flaming eyes fixated on Hack. “That only makes me want to take him down even more”

*

Hudson lay face down on the floor, breathing heavily. Mr. Swordsman was at his side, staring at the dark skies. He was out of stamina and couldn’t even stand on his own feet. Gorrick had managed to land a good hit before his death.

Hudson stood up and helped Mr. Swordsman to his feet. “We must keep moving. The townspeople are still trapped, and the volcano is about to erupt.”

Hudson’s legs were shaking, and Mr. Swordsman was too heavy for him. However, he couldn’t stop walking. He had already told Tony that he would save everyone, so he wasn’t going to stop now. He pulled Mr. Swordsman and then felt a pat on his head.

“Thank you,” Mr. Swordsman whispered.

“No, no. I just don’t want you to die, Mr. Swordsman. If you do, Emilia and Pasta would be devastated. So hold on”

“They will?”

“Of course, sir. We all will. After all, aren’t we friends,” Hudson turned back and smiled.

“You never got to use your sword?” Mr. Swordsman asked.

Hudson scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, I didn’t fight in the end. I ended up using a gun instead.”

“We should spar sometime Hudson”

Hudson smiled, a few tears escaping. “Yes, we should.”

“Then,” Mr. Swordsman stood on his feet. “I don’t need you dying here. Go Hudson”

Hudson eyed him. “I just can’t leave you, sir. The volcano-”

Mr. Swordsman gave him a warm smile. “Don’t you trust me?”

Hudson cleaned his eyes and nodded. “I do”

“So leave it all to me”

Hudson cleaned his tears and ran towards the mercenary camp.

Mr. Swordsman eyed the volcano. His hands were shaking as he reached for his sword.

“Just one more time.”