Silenced
By tami
Dario was someone to proud of. At the age of 24, he had already risen to the rank that men old enough to be his father hadn't yet dared to even dream of. The leader of the dragoons, the first and most valiant of the Devas, the one who was envied and admired by all. was Dario. It was a position that called for courage and skill, but there was no candidate more qualified than the ever-gracious fiancé of the lady of the land.
Not only was he an unsurpassed warrior, he was lucky in the matters of the heart as well. Those who were closest to him were not at all bitter about his accomplishments, but fawned over him just as much as the general public. While most young men his age were still fumbling awkwardly with their confused emotions, he had already found the women he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was this way he had the reputation of a being the golden champion that won the fair maiden's heart as well. As everyone knew, anyone who could win over the scornful Riddel that had literally laughed her suitors out of the golden gates had to be as charming as all hell. Not to mention handsome enough so that his appearance complimented the delicate and exquisite beauty of his soon-to-be-wife.
The town loved him. They idolized him, for young men blurted out how much of a role model he was to them as he passed them on the street, and young ladies swooned whenever his clear gray eyes happened to glance their way. Elders that Dario should have been nodding respectfully to all but threw themselves at his feet, eagerly begging to hear of his latest adventure or the details of his relationship with Riddel. Children would follow him and whisper about him with voices tinged with awe, as the one being discussed and praised by their tongues walked ahead of them by only a few paces.
He was Termina's trophy. He was something that the citizens could use to mock the other towns, for they had no such person who had the skill that even came close to the ones possessed by their Dario. He was the lover and confidant of a divine young lady that was regularly compared to the celestial angels of legend
But to Glenn he was the demanding older brother who was always saying, "Don't" and "Stop that" and "Grow up."
And they loved each other so much it hurt.
Yet Dario was leaving and Glenn was staying behind. It hadn't been planned that way. Glenn was supposed to go along with Dario, Karsh, and their entourage of grunt soldiers who were just there to carry the luggage. It would have given Glenn some experience for his future military career and some time for the brothers to strengthen the bond that had been weakening due to lack of time together. When Dario had approached Glenn with the idea, he had agreed, to his surprise. Glenn hated leaving Termina for extended periods of time. But when Dario had asked, Glenn had nodded vigorously.
Apparently no one told fate what the plans were, and how important to journey was to Glenn, because a week before the expedition was to commence, Glenn suffered from a training mishap that would leave his face disfigured for life. A perfect cross formed from two deep slashes would heal into a rather attractive scar, and would be of great interest to the ladies, but despite the numerous assurances he had received about a mar's overall insignificance, he wasn't too thrilled about it.
For one thing, even though there was now a patch of gauze plastered over his cheek and the pain was fast receding, he had almost bled to death and was barely saved from the medical mistreatment his inexperienced sparring partner had tried to administer. He had successfully fought him off, but panicky actions had led to gravel lodged in the gashes, which had to be picked out by hand. Not a very pleasant experience. Second, the doctor had deemed the wound too viable for infection for Glenn to be allowed to venture for an extended period of time into a place infested with decay and disease such as the Isle of the Damned.
Dario had said nothing at the time, didn't say anything even up until the point of his departure, but Glenn had sighed and touched his cheek. The wad of cotton was blushing a pastel red from the blood that had been still steadily oozing out. He had dressed it again, this time applying more salve, and then went to bed without speaking to his older brother.
The day that they were to leave, Karsh and Dario checked what they had packed as the patrician Riddel fussed over them with hugs and discreet kisses. Glenn was nowhere to be seen, although Dario had called his name several times in case he was hiding nearby. Glenn didn't seem too perturbed at missing the trip before, but he liked being difficult if he felt like it. Dario was worried about him, but his fears were groundless, as Glenn had long been allowed to be out by himself. His concern was purely based on brotherly/parental duty. Glenn had an unpredictable nature and could not be charged with insensitivity just because he had decided that he didn't want to stick around for goodbyes.
As he absently wondered about Glenn's absence, Dario's thoughts lit upon the object of their mission. Bring back the Masamune. His father had mentioned it to him in early childhood, but he never had the means to become obsessed with it. True, Dario's father had been killed during a raid while searching for the elusive relic, and the weapon had been lost during the chaos of the struggle that had ensued, but Dario had found the artifact's involvement of little consequence, unlike the local tabloids. It had been misfortunate, yes, but a piece of metal could not corrupt a man's soul. Glenn had always been more interested in the tale anyway, and had constantly interrogated Radius about it, asking for more a detailed account, until the retired military man had moved away.
It was a morbid interest, but Glenn was occasionally a morbid person, when he wasn't intentionally annoying his older brother. Dario had been troubled with Glenn's anxiety over the Masamune before, but it had waned over recent years. Dario had been delighted when Glenn was still willing to come along with him and Karsh to hunt for the cursed sword, even after Dario had given him the mission briefing.
God knew where he was now, but Dario was comforted by the recollection of the swift, fleeting hug that Glenn had given him before darting out the door this morning. At least he wasn't hopelessly unhappy with Dario's decision to go on with the mission. With the mind's eye alternating from scenes of landing on the island's bony shore to what Glenn would look like when he came back (his scar would be through healing by then.), Dario sauntered off to the harbor with Karsh beside him and Riddel waving and shouting promises to flush out Glenn later.
The pair of warriors were met with an enthusiastic crowd too see them off on their exotic adventure. Politely responding to their cries for entertainment, Dario executed a few flashy tricks with the enchanted Einlanzer while Karsh stood back with an impatient huff of breath, knowing full well that it was Dario they screamed for, not him. When he was done, Dario sheathed the blade and smiled at his audience to show his gratitude. The men and children cheered in unison, but the female members seemed more than a bit flustered.
Fifty feet above the multi-colored heads belonging to the Dario's admirers, one last fan shielded himself from the glare of the day in a tower's balcony. Self-consciously rubbing his cheek gingerly, the young man leaned against the cool limestone wall of the circular room, drenched in the purple blue of shadows.
"Come back safe, Dario." He muttered as they boarded the boat.
***
No comment.
Dario was someone to proud of. At the age of 24, he had already risen to the rank that men old enough to be his father hadn't yet dared to even dream of. The leader of the dragoons, the first and most valiant of the Devas, the one who was envied and admired by all. was Dario. It was a position that called for courage and skill, but there was no candidate more qualified than the ever-gracious fiancé of the lady of the land.
Not only was he an unsurpassed warrior, he was lucky in the matters of the heart as well. Those who were closest to him were not at all bitter about his accomplishments, but fawned over him just as much as the general public. While most young men his age were still fumbling awkwardly with their confused emotions, he had already found the women he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was this way he had the reputation of a being the golden champion that won the fair maiden's heart as well. As everyone knew, anyone who could win over the scornful Riddel that had literally laughed her suitors out of the golden gates had to be as charming as all hell. Not to mention handsome enough so that his appearance complimented the delicate and exquisite beauty of his soon-to-be-wife.
The town loved him. They idolized him, for young men blurted out how much of a role model he was to them as he passed them on the street, and young ladies swooned whenever his clear gray eyes happened to glance their way. Elders that Dario should have been nodding respectfully to all but threw themselves at his feet, eagerly begging to hear of his latest adventure or the details of his relationship with Riddel. Children would follow him and whisper about him with voices tinged with awe, as the one being discussed and praised by their tongues walked ahead of them by only a few paces.
He was Termina's trophy. He was something that the citizens could use to mock the other towns, for they had no such person who had the skill that even came close to the ones possessed by their Dario. He was the lover and confidant of a divine young lady that was regularly compared to the celestial angels of legend
But to Glenn he was the demanding older brother who was always saying, "Don't" and "Stop that" and "Grow up."
And they loved each other so much it hurt.
Yet Dario was leaving and Glenn was staying behind. It hadn't been planned that way. Glenn was supposed to go along with Dario, Karsh, and their entourage of grunt soldiers who were just there to carry the luggage. It would have given Glenn some experience for his future military career and some time for the brothers to strengthen the bond that had been weakening due to lack of time together. When Dario had approached Glenn with the idea, he had agreed, to his surprise. Glenn hated leaving Termina for extended periods of time. But when Dario had asked, Glenn had nodded vigorously.
Apparently no one told fate what the plans were, and how important to journey was to Glenn, because a week before the expedition was to commence, Glenn suffered from a training mishap that would leave his face disfigured for life. A perfect cross formed from two deep slashes would heal into a rather attractive scar, and would be of great interest to the ladies, but despite the numerous assurances he had received about a mar's overall insignificance, he wasn't too thrilled about it.
For one thing, even though there was now a patch of gauze plastered over his cheek and the pain was fast receding, he had almost bled to death and was barely saved from the medical mistreatment his inexperienced sparring partner had tried to administer. He had successfully fought him off, but panicky actions had led to gravel lodged in the gashes, which had to be picked out by hand. Not a very pleasant experience. Second, the doctor had deemed the wound too viable for infection for Glenn to be allowed to venture for an extended period of time into a place infested with decay and disease such as the Isle of the Damned.
Dario had said nothing at the time, didn't say anything even up until the point of his departure, but Glenn had sighed and touched his cheek. The wad of cotton was blushing a pastel red from the blood that had been still steadily oozing out. He had dressed it again, this time applying more salve, and then went to bed without speaking to his older brother.
The day that they were to leave, Karsh and Dario checked what they had packed as the patrician Riddel fussed over them with hugs and discreet kisses. Glenn was nowhere to be seen, although Dario had called his name several times in case he was hiding nearby. Glenn didn't seem too perturbed at missing the trip before, but he liked being difficult if he felt like it. Dario was worried about him, but his fears were groundless, as Glenn had long been allowed to be out by himself. His concern was purely based on brotherly/parental duty. Glenn had an unpredictable nature and could not be charged with insensitivity just because he had decided that he didn't want to stick around for goodbyes.
As he absently wondered about Glenn's absence, Dario's thoughts lit upon the object of their mission. Bring back the Masamune. His father had mentioned it to him in early childhood, but he never had the means to become obsessed with it. True, Dario's father had been killed during a raid while searching for the elusive relic, and the weapon had been lost during the chaos of the struggle that had ensued, but Dario had found the artifact's involvement of little consequence, unlike the local tabloids. It had been misfortunate, yes, but a piece of metal could not corrupt a man's soul. Glenn had always been more interested in the tale anyway, and had constantly interrogated Radius about it, asking for more a detailed account, until the retired military man had moved away.
It was a morbid interest, but Glenn was occasionally a morbid person, when he wasn't intentionally annoying his older brother. Dario had been troubled with Glenn's anxiety over the Masamune before, but it had waned over recent years. Dario had been delighted when Glenn was still willing to come along with him and Karsh to hunt for the cursed sword, even after Dario had given him the mission briefing.
God knew where he was now, but Dario was comforted by the recollection of the swift, fleeting hug that Glenn had given him before darting out the door this morning. At least he wasn't hopelessly unhappy with Dario's decision to go on with the mission. With the mind's eye alternating from scenes of landing on the island's bony shore to what Glenn would look like when he came back (his scar would be through healing by then.), Dario sauntered off to the harbor with Karsh beside him and Riddel waving and shouting promises to flush out Glenn later.
The pair of warriors were met with an enthusiastic crowd too see them off on their exotic adventure. Politely responding to their cries for entertainment, Dario executed a few flashy tricks with the enchanted Einlanzer while Karsh stood back with an impatient huff of breath, knowing full well that it was Dario they screamed for, not him. When he was done, Dario sheathed the blade and smiled at his audience to show his gratitude. The men and children cheered in unison, but the female members seemed more than a bit flustered.
Fifty feet above the multi-colored heads belonging to the Dario's admirers, one last fan shielded himself from the glare of the day in a tower's balcony. Self-consciously rubbing his cheek gingerly, the young man leaned against the cool limestone wall of the circular room, drenched in the purple blue of shadows.
"Come back safe, Dario." He muttered as they boarded the boat.
***
No comment.