Yet another story in my expanding series. This one has always been an idea of mine for a while. Ludveck had so much potential as a great villain in Radiant Dawn but untimely he was reduced to nothing more than a filler baddie who is basically 'lulz evil'. So I always wanted to give him more dimension than the power hungry noble we have all seen before. Hopfully I do him justice. Please enjoy!
That morning was unusually full of commotion, and his father's fort was always busy as a trading hub and military command post so traffic was to be expected. However, there were no traders today, and everywhere he looked he saw the militia and trained vanguards going through arming rituals as they donned their war gear.
Silver armored paladins had their weapons oiled and sanctified by the passing clerics, while every unmarried man and woman who could carry a blade or a spear were being given weapons with moderate amount of armor to cover themselves. Young or elderly, every citizen in the castle grounds was being armed for battle.
The realization set it for him. This was no practice, an actual war had come to Crimea.
He moved through the throngs of grim faced individuals who were preparing themselves for battle. He needed to find his father, he needed to know what was happening? Had the laguz attacked or did the Begnion Empire come for what they perceived as their rightful land? His mind boiled over with uncertainty and the sooner he would find his father for answers, the sooner he would take his position with axe and shield.
He did not need to look to terribly far to find him, his father had always preferred to be in the center of the commotion, directing soldiers as they came to him fully armed and armored "Father!" The young man tried his best to get his father's attention over the commotion. He pushed a few soldiers aside to reach him. "Father!"
The gray hair man, fully clad in baroque armor of a dozen generations of his ancestors and three swords handing from his hips and back, turned. "Dristan, give orders as we discussed this morning. I will be back shortly." Upon his brow were olive leaves made of precious metals, signifying his rank as duke. "My son, what do you ask of me?"
The young man, barely into the twenty-third year of his life, held his hands out to the area around them. "What has happened, Sicarius?" He called his father by his given name, something he only did when he was concerned or upset. "Has war come for Crimea?"
Sicarius took in a breath of air and nodded solemnly. "Aye, it has indeed. The mad bastard king from Daein has set his eyes on Crimea. To what ends he hopes to achieve by doing so, I do not pretend to know the answer. All I know is that when the sun is at the highest, he will descend upon our castle and plunder it. I have received messages that all across Crimea there are attacks underway. Melior itself has fallen."
"Merciful hell." The son swore under his breath. "The seat of the king has fallen? What of the king? Is he…?"
"I do not know, I pray that he is still alive. Renning, Commander of the Royal Knights has made a bold gambit to distract Ashnard's armies to make sure that she survives." She… who was his father talking about? "What I do know is that I must stay in this fortress and defend it until I fall. Your place is elsewhere. Far far from this violence."
The son scoffed at his father. "You know I will not do such a thing! This is my home, my future to rule and I would sooner lay my life down than see the cowards take our homeland!"
"Control yourself!" Sicarius ordered sternly, and his son obeyed. "Your loyalty and patriotism to Crimea is well documented, as is your skills with an axe. I have never doubted that you are more than any match for our Royal Knights as well as any foreign army. But I do not need a warrior who is ready to die. I need a son to look to his brothers."
Sicarius placed his left hand on his son's shoulder. "Go to the villa. The one where the waterfall runs northerly. I need you to be there for me, as my successor and guardian to your brothers. When this war is over, and Crimea is restored, return home to rule as I have instructed you."
The son shuttered. "Father, I will not leave you. The retainers will take care of the children. Let me fight here by your side. There is no honor is leaving you to die."
Sicarius, despite the situation, began to laugh. "You speak of honor at this time? Is it honorable to disobey a father's command? To throw away one's life with no greater reward than merely to die?" His son shook his head. "Know that I love you and it pains me to do this. My life is almost at the end, and you have many winters to endure. Many loves to find, and many children to sire."
"Must you bring up my lack children in a time of war?"
Sicarius laughed again. "There is no better time! You have so much left in life, to carry our name for decades to come. My time is at its twilight hours, and I remember what my father told me about this case. Either you die a paragon for your beliefs or survive to become the antithesis to all you hold dear. One day you will see my wisdom, but for now you must see to it that your brothers are taken care of and that you will live to rule as I have."
His son sighed with defeat in his tone. "I will do as you command, father. I will gather my four younger brothers and make way to the villa."
His father leaned in and kissed his son on the forehead. "Thank you. Your armor, weapons, and a cohort of loyal servants are already there. Here." He reached down to his side and pulled free a metal cylinder, engraved with words of power and decrees. Sicarius placed the object in his son's hands. "In there are answers for when I am gone. Now go, and may the ancestors watch over you Ludveck."
"And may they guide you to a good death, Sicarius."
For as long as he could remember, Ludveck always enjoyed watching the sunrise with the wind meeting him. Ever since he was a child, he would wake up with his aged father and he would be able to see all that one day he would one day rule. Where the radiance landed, one day he would wear the gold and silver laurels of his fiefdom and hold the symbol of command over it.
In a sick and twisted sense of irony, all that the sun now touched was his. This island, more than fifty miles from the homeland of Crimea and twenty less from any major shipping lane, was his to command and rule.
With himself as the only soul alive on it. A luxurious prison, but it was still a prison, no matter what the bars were made of.
Behind him, a stone shelter belched smoke from the small cobblestone chimney. Though it was still the summer months, with winter not for many moons to come, the ocean winds struck him afresh with the cold every time he stepped outside. He could not remain idle and inside his 'castle' as Elincia called it when she personally placed him on this island.
He had many choice words to describe the woman who called herself Queen of Crimea, most of which were not to be said aloud in gathered society outside of a kennel. Only when his father's blood had been spilled in her defense, a name he had not heard until the moment was truly dire, he learned who she was. A secret child of the late King and Queen of his homeland, shrouded in secrecy and intrigue.
He did not like the idea of being blind by facts that were pertinent to the good of his homeland. When the war was over, he returned home to his fiefdom almost a year older. When he first set eyes on the palisades of the outer bulwarks, he wept like he never had before. His home, his home was practically ransacked and all who took up arms against the Mad King had been hacked apart by the butcher's blade.
Comfort was given, however small, when he discovered that his father and the other soldiers were given a proper burial. The mausoleum was unspoiled, and for the whole night he was down there with his father's death cast, wishing that somehow his father could hear him and give him some iota of comfort.
How better it would have been to die in the defense of his home or at the very least to die in the war! He would have died a hero's death, received mourning that would be rival his own father, who died with no less than three swords in him at the same time strangling a commander of draco-knights. If he died then, none of this would have happened
Later that evening he returned to the main hall, where the thought was first placed in his head.
"Good to be back in familiar territory, am I right my lord?" Erebus, his spiritual advisor and the one to his father, asked Ludveck as he walked the empty hallways. The sound of their footsteps echoed for what seemed like an eternity.
"Comforting, yes. Good, I do not think so. Familiar even less so." Ludveck explained as he looked upon the throne he would soon be sitting, directing his will over all of the land his ancestors were given. "Are my brothers asleep? How have they handled the adjustment?"
"The children- your brothers I mean, are unsettled. Marek seems to be the only one who knows what really happened, while Severus and Manaus keep asking where father is. A pity that children as young as four and three have to lose their parent. I doubt it is much easier for you." Erebus spoke softly, his age catching up with him.
"Agreed. Marek is only eight but he has been blessed with wisdom my mother had, rest her soul. This war has left many orphans, many not as fortunate as my brothers… and they were the cost for something I do not even understand." Ludveck stopped before the stairs that would ascend to the throne.
"None do, though it seems we have a new queen to coronate. Elincia, the apparent daughter of out late King Crimea. The man had no children, and this naive child claims the throne because the Begnions and sub-humans backed her army."
"Stay your tongue, Erebus." Ludveck's voice held a gram of warning to it. "My father was aware of her existence before the war and he shared the knowledge with me in the days leading up to his death. She is now my queen, and like it or not, yours as well."
"All well and good, my lord. But will this Elincia bring Crimea's ascension or destruction? Is she the one your father wanted to serve? She is not as strong as you or your father, and if she is that weak… is she worthy of such blind devotion?"
"Leave me, Erebus. I must be alone." Erebus bowed to Ludveck and departed. The old man was bitter over the loss of his lifelong friend, at least that is as much as Ludveck could piece together. But there was something else in those words, something that clawed at the back of Ludveck's mind like an itch.
He walked up the three steps to his throne and took his seat. Was Erebus right? Was this the Elincia his father had spoken so tenderly of? The late King was a diplomat first, and warrior second. A capable warrior by his own right, but he always preferred peace to actual fighting.
Ludveck looked over the open hall, the empty marble passage cleaned of almost all grime and it reflected the light of the twin moons perfectly so there was no need for torches. Come tomorrow there would be dozens in his sight asking for commands and his opinion. Soon the Queen would do the same, and he would need to be there as often he would need to be in his own fiefdom, or at the very least send a diplomat for the council of nobles to rule with her.
Was she really worth all of this? All of the death, misery, and loss? Did Erebus' words ring truth? Time would tell. "Father… where ever you are, guide me."
Ludveck wiped the sweat from his brow as he brought down the axe again on the fallen tree in front of him, venting his pent up frustration again with each swing. It was still the summer months, though he still needed a fair amount of firewood for each night to battle the chill the northern sea splashed him with every evening.
With no one else to talk to, he often slipped back into his memories, which he could remember with near perfect accuracy. To many it would have seemed self-deprecating to escape into the past
His hands were calloused, so no blisters held him back from swinging the weathered axe again and again. Three, now almost four, years he had been kept a prisoner on this damnable island. He took aim at the grove he had cut and could not help but let out a hollow chuckle. That was almost the same amount of time he served as Duke of Felirae.
For three years he stewed upon his throne, trying to rebuild his father's vision. He listened to the counsel of his advisors, Erebus being the most vocal of all of them. Elincia herself was proving to be a fair, if not overly concerned and naïve, ruler. Still, Ludveck himself was in frequent disagreement with the young lady. This was more about her policy choice than the other inbred bastard nobles and their grievance that she was a pretender to the throne.
He swung down again on the tree. Crimean silver maple from the looks of it, one of the fastest growing trees and back at the mainland it was the mainstay of natural supplies. From seed to reasonable size tree, it took only three years. They didn't need much to grow, just a little water now and again. Before long, a tall tree with looming branches spread out
In his mind there were seeds sown long ago. Pride, arrogance, selfishness. He knew he could not say that Erebus planted them within him. All he did was give them the water needed to really develop. To give him the push and thinking he needed to become more adamant against Elincia.
Disagreeing with Elincia privately became saying his concerns aloud to others on his advisory board.
"Another tax to pay for the help of her allies! Hellfire and damnation, at this rate the yoke of the commoner would be overburdened for three generations to give the Gilians what they want in costs of the war." Ludveck held the missive clamped in his hands and his advisors looked to him with concern. Ludveck never was one for his violent temperament and sudden outbursts of anger. "If I had the keys to the treasury, they would have been paid off already."
Not surprisingly, it was Erebus who spoke. "Of that I have no doubt, my great lord. But why settle for the treasury when there is the crown?" His talk of Elincia in such a manner no longer gave a response from the others gathered.
Ludveck was about to chastise Erebus, but the thought finally stopped his tongue. Why settle indeed?
Saying them aloud became taking more control of his local domain.
"Good. You are learning the disciplines. Strike me again." Ludveck challenged his younger brother Marek who swung the sword in low, though Ludveck easily bashed it aside and held his wooden sword point at the throat of Marek. "I have a body shield, try to find that weakness then strike it."
"Alright." Marek got to his feet and spun the wooden training sword again in his hands to get a feel for the weapon. "I hear chatter that you have begun to take a more authoritarian measure over the fiefdom. I have heard that you are seeing how all trade is conducted, what is taxed, and making yourself commander of the local militias. Does that seem like wasted effort, as the Queen has her own departments to handle such things?"
"Indeed she does, but it is my right as a duke to rule my domain as I see fit." Ludveck said as he wiped his brow.
"True, but you walk a tight rope. Tyranny comes from a consolidation of power, even for noble purposes."
Ludveck laughed. "No more than a decade old and already he is teaching his elders. You are good with words, now show me deeds."
Taking more control of his domain became martialing like-minded militants to his cause.
Ludveck sat alone in a dim room lit by a single candle. Troop formation and payment papers were sprawled out before him. He had found many suitable warriors for his cause. Their motives were either like his, unemployed soldiers of fortune, bigoted men at arms, or simple hell raisers. He despised the last two, but a sword not with you is against you. His dispatched his chief lieutenants to train these men, and soon they would be a powerful force.
He drank some spiced wine as he looked over the numbers again. The numbers were the same. Everything was falling into place.
Gathering soldiers became forming plans.
"A direct assault on Melior is suicidal, with the current armaments we have to bare. Even if we draw the Royal Knights away, there is still a sizable garrison to man those walls." One of Ludveck's second in command pointed out by pushing several regicide pawns to the drawn example of the capital of Crimea. "Our only way to find and beat Elincia is to draw her out of her palace on our terms."
Ludveck nodded while he began to think of where Elincia would go if there was a substantial threat. That secret remained behind Lucia's locked tongue. Three days had passed and they had not been able to pry that secret from her. Erebus had been insistent that hot instruments be used, but Ludveck always shot that proposal down. He would not stoop to that level.
Time, however, was growing short. Geoffrey would eventually attack his fiefdom and if he was there with it, this rebellion would be crushed.
Harsh times called for harsh measures. He snapped his fingers, "Have Erebus bring me the lady. Bound but ungagged." The servant he was addressing bowed his head and went to the cellar. Ludveck finished his goblet of wine with one hand while the other began to loosen the belt strings to his trousers. He didn't want to fully comprehend what he was about to do.
He did not notice his younger brother hiding in the shadows, ready to see whatever happened.
He swung the axe down again, and carved the log in to two pieces. It was the classic tale of damnation. A series of small missteps before the great fall.
"By Ashera's strictness, brother have you taken leave of your senses?!" The voice belonged to Marek, the eleven year old and the eldest brother Ludveck had. He was a cunning mind and had his father's tongue when it came to directness of his speech. Admirable traits, but that didn't mean Ludveck wanted to slap some adhesive on a strip of cloth to keep it shut from time to time.
This was one of his moments.
"My mind is my own and it is made. I cannot take ink off the parchment once I have signed it." The two were walking on one of the walls that surrounded his fortress. The argument was getting heated.
"A conspiracy against the rightful Queen? Armed revolts in small farming communities? Kidnapping Lady Lucia… and defiling her as your council and guards watched with gleeful abandon? Planning her execution should Elincia refuse to abdicate?! What would father say if he saw this?!" Marek apparently didn't give a damn about his volume control and Ludveck felt his own slipping away.
He spun and faced his brother with a look of pure murder. "My father was a great man but he placed his hopes on a future with a guileless tart who is more worth to be an advisor than a ruler of noble Crimea. If he saw what I see, he would applaud my actions as right and just."
Marek did not back down and took another step forward, almost eye to eye with his older brother. A man he once looked up to, but now could not even bring himself to hate. His voice was almost a whisper. "Sicarius was a man of honor. He did not achieve anything through smoke and daggers. He did not plan the downfall of his most loyal friend ever since they were children training with the Begnion Pegasus Knights, who later became king and father of the woman you plot to overthrow. Sicarius would have never held a political hostage with the intent of killing them. He would have never, as long as the sun rises… rape any maiden who wronged him, spy or not."
Ludveck met his brother with the same measure. "You are but a child living in your own fantastic realm. Honor is a word we use to control others. There was no honor when my father died, nor was there any in that damnable war that claimed so many lives. War is nothing more than deception on a grand scale, and if lives must be offered up unto it's alter and be broken then we must pay the price. Heavy is the head that wears the crown but lives must be spent for the sake of victory."
Marek snorted, a verbal equivalent of an eye roll. "You sound just like Erebus. Ever since you took the throne, I have seen you two apart as less than I can count on both of my hands."
"Erebus is a good man, full of wisdom. You should maybe heed his words, they might do you good." Ludveck crossed his arms, and rose to his full height.
"What then? Say you take the throne of Melior by hook or by crook, how many more wars will you engage to slate the bloodlust of your newfound allies? How many more will have to die, hrm? How many more fathers and mothers will be in the potter's field to leave their children to raise themselves? You-"
All patience lost, Ludveck violently backhanded Marek. The blow was strong enough to knock the child from his feet, sending him sprawling to the ground, bloody spit coming freely from his mouth. Ludveck placed his hand down, hiding the chill of shock that rippled between every bone in his spine. He turned around with his heels and walked off to his master bedroom to retire for the evening.
Sleep was not pleasant. All he could think about was his brother calling him out, and the feel of flesh yielding to flesh.
Ludveck tossed the next log onto the fireplace as the twilight chill entered his veins. All day he had gathered lumber and harvested what little in the way of edible foliage grew in the wild. The dark clouds that brought only raging storms brewed in the distance and the gales that assailed this atoll were good reasons to stay inside for one's good health.
He absently stirred the pot of roots and fish that simmered in a salty broth. It was not the same as he ate back in the mainland, but he could not complain Sustenance was filling, taste was not needed.
He place the spoon aside and looked into the fire. Ever changing and always starving for more to consume. His anger was the same during his rebellion. It was a small spark, nothing worth of note but left unchecked with enough fuel nearby, it became a raging pyre.
He shook his head, trying to dispel the memory he knew would come from it. He took a bowl and spooned in some of the stew. Perhaps the food would take his mind off of it. He reclined next to the fire and took some of the broth into his mouth.
Odd. There was something unusual he tasted in the stew. Did he add too much salt? No, he added the same amount as he usually did. Too much fish blood as a thickener? He didn't think so, if anything he added too little. Still, there was something in this strew that reminded him of someone or somewhere.
He took another spoonful, this time with a cubed root. He tasted it again. There it was, it had the taste of a carrot. This was almost like the perch and carrot strew he was served in Melior's-
Ludveck grasped his head in pain, swearing aloud as the memory forced its way back into his head. His downfall, his parade during Ike's triumph where he was insulted by all of Crimea who mere hours earlier secretly wished he was their king. The musk of the dungeon, the taste of the stew in his mouth, and the chains clanking together; all of it assailed him.
Like blood over glass, his eyes gave way to his last memory of Crimea.
The chains bit into his wrists and ankles, and every time he made the slightest of movements, his mind was overloaded with the sounds of the iron links clanking a doleful tune. How long was he in here? Hours, days, weeks… months? For some reason he could not remember a block of time, as if he simply did not experience it. What happened?
He did not know, nor did he care honestly. His life was dancing on the edge of a blade, one that would surely be coming for his neck.
He had no intentions of pleading for his life, nor spit a last curse at Elincia and all who followed her. He was… at peace. Soon the death he searched for so long would come. It would not be in a dignified way of course, but with his blood spilt his sins would be absolved.
Footsteps, two pairs apart from the guard who came to feed him every day. One was definitely feminine with the *click clack clickity clack* sound permeating the air, only heeled boots. The other was much more forceful, clomping towards him. Ludveck could not identify the sound but almost instantly the air was ripe with the pungent aroma of spices mixed with sweat. Only hawks smelled like that.
The guard stopped in front of the door to fiddle around with his ring of keys. After he found the one that would unlock the door, he pulled the crying iron bars open and the woman entered while the hawk stood at the border of the entrance. The woman stopped a mere three feet from Ludveck. He could not raise his face to meet hers, though he knew damn well who she was. "Come to gloat, once more?"
Elincia crossed her arms and made a humorless smile. "Courteous to the end, aren't we?" Ludveck craned his eyes to meet hers. He noted a hawk feather tucked behind her ear, a sign he recalled on how hawks showed their affection. Doubtlessly the one who stood at the edge of the door was the one who gave it to her. He decided that it was not worth mentioning that she chose to be the mate to a laguz, it would not be a secret for long. "I have actually come to say goodbye."
So, the day finally came. "Do I get my last meal request and some snuff before I meet the headsmen?"
Elincia walked away to look out the only window he had. "No. You will not because you will not be taking the final thirteen steps up the scaffold."
Ludveck noted the sword at her side. "Come to finish me yourself? Avenge all of what I have done to you and your milk sister?"
Elincia turned her head to address him. "Ludveck, nothing fills me with greater joy than watching your head roll. There are few things I want to see more than your head dipped in tar, hanging from a spear point, and have your limbs sent to the furthest corners of Crimea as a warning to others that I will not be trifled with."
Elincia then placed her hand under her chin in an exaggerated thought. "Perhaps I could have Tibarn," so that is who was standing outside his door, "throw you from the highest mountain and I can listen to your screams as you fall. Maybe Lucia can have her vengeance upon you by castration and flaying. Or maybe I can hang you upside down by your ankles and have the widows of the Knights your rebellion killed take their turns beating you with iron clubs until your internal organs become external." She then wore a smug expression. "Though I will have to settle for you living."
Ludveck arched an eyebrow. "Another pacifist punishment?"
"Do not think my mercy is misguided. Killing you accomplishes nothing, in fact it would only force me down the road of as a queen of sorrow. I kill you, what stops me from doing it to anyone who disagrees me? I will instead be sending you elsewhere, where there is no chance for you to harm anyone else but yourself."
Ludveck rose from his seat, though it pained him to do so. "Labor camp?"
"Further away than that, I can assure you. You, Ludveck, will no longer be on Crimean soil for the rest of your born days. Are you familiar with a place called Shade's Atoll?"
"Only that it is a place sailors have claimed to be haunted by the spirit of someone they had wronged. I thought it was only a child's myth."
Elincia chuckled. "There is such a place. Fifty miles from our shores and thirty less from any major shipping lane. You will be there, alone with not a single soul but your own. I have a stone 'castle' built for you there, with three months of provisions and all the tools with seeds to make a countrified lifestyle feasible. From there out you will be responsible for your own wellbeing. If you die, it will not be on my hands."
Despite being handed a delayed death sentence, and one arguably more painful than a simple swing of a sword, Ludveck gave a hint of an approving smile. "So you have learned after all."
"Don't insult me." Elincia waved him away. "Enjoy your last sight of this cell. Come the morrow you will be thrown on a ship and sent into exile." She gave a nod to the guard who readied to close the door behind her.
"Wait." Ludveck rose his voice, and Elincia stopped where she stood. "Before you leave, I have something to say."
She turned to face him, arms still crossed. "A demand or parting threat? I tire of those from your mouth."
"A respectful request that follows a question. What of my brothers?"
She paused for a moment, trying to recall the information. "They are alive and well. They still reside within Felirae where Geoffrey holds temporary command until the land will be sequestered by other lords."
"Please, they had no involvement in my plot. I ask that Marek take over the lordship when he comes of age. He is wise beyond his years, and would be the ruler you want for your Pax Crimea."
Elincia looked Ludveck up and down, gauging the honesty in his words. "Promises to traitors have no worth." It was more of a warning than a threat.
"I am aware of that." Ludveck said as he sat back down. Elincia said no more and left him with her hawk courtier at her side. Ludveck buried his face in his hands. Death had eluded him once more, and Elincia had realized that life can be a far worse punishment.
She truly had learned. The stern ruler he had always wanted, ironically, she became.
Ludveck placed aside the half-eaten meal and buried his head in his hands, the sharp pain of realization set in once again as it had every time he remembered that. The thoughts persisted even to this day, though he never really confronted them completely.
He wanted to die. For more than six years he had been looking for death and every time he thought he would indeed die, the specter had eluded him.
When his father stayed to fight against the invading army, Ludveck wanted to die a hero's death in defense of his homeland. During the war that raged, he wanted to abandon his duties of raising his brothers to take up arms with the liberation army.
During his ill-fated rebellion, which he knew there was no real hope for victory, he hoped to become a martyr for the ideals of Crimea. When he was captured, he hoped an execution would come to accomplish the same and to just end it all. He was a dead man whose body still continued to live and breathe.
Or maybe he wanted to die because he had fallen so far that there was no way he could look his father in the eye if he was still alive.
His hands numbly reached for the silver tube. It was seven years old, and many of the symbols had been worn down. He had never read his father's words, and every time he would come close to opening it he was reminded by many that old ghosts should rest. Erebus told him this many times over, but others echoed such sediment. Was the pain of tearing open old wounds worth it for answers?
Ludveck twisted the top and a scroll, yellowed with age came out. He unfurled the top and looked upon his father's fine calligraphy. He read the words he had wanted to read for so long, and as he did so he realized how far he had fallen as a pawn for others.
Recently, there has been the report of an uprising in the western area, and that a large number of dukes and barons who have fallen into the evil scheming of Ashnard will first lay siege to this castle rebel and are now making such preparations with large forces.
For myself, I am resolved to make a stand within the castle and to die a quick death. It would not take much trouble to break through a part of their numbers and escape, no matter how many tens of thousands of horsemen approached for the attack or by how many columns we are surrounded by the fierce archers of the invaders.
But that is not the true meaning of being a warrior, and it would be difficult to account as loyalty. Rather, I will stand off the forces of the entire country here, and, without even one one-hundredth of the men necessary to do so, will throw up a defense and die a resplendent death. By doing so I will show that to abandon a castle that should be defended, or to value one's life so much as to avoid danger and to show the enemy one's weakness is not within the family traditions of my master, King Crimea.
Thus I will have taken the initiative in causing Lord Crimea's other retainers to be resolved, and in advancing righteousness to the warriors of the entire country. It is not the Way of the Warrior to be shamed and avoid death even under circumstances that are not particularly important. It goes without saying that to sacrifice one's life for the sake of his master is an unchanging principle. As this is a matter that I have thought over beforehand, I think that circumstances such that I am meeting now must be envied by people of understanding.
You, Ludveck, should understand the following well. Our ancestors have been personal vassals of the Royal Family for generations. My late father, the governor of Melior, served Lord Tallazar, and later worked loyally for his son, Nathaniel. My older brother, Sigismund, manifested his absolute loyalty and was cut down in battle at Broken Hills.
When the present Lord Crimea was a child and sent to the villa, the Governor of Melior accompanied him as a guardian. Later, at the age of 19, Crimea returned to Melior, and my father served him with unsurpassed loyalty, living more than 80 years with unswerving steadfastness.
Lord Crimea, for his part, regarded the Governor as a matchless vassal. When I was 13 and Lord Crimea seven, I came before his presence for the first time, and the blessings I have received since must not be forgotten for all the generations to come.
Because King Crimea is well aware of my loyalty, he has left me here in charge of the important area of the Eastern frontier as the Lord of Fushimi Castle while he advances toward the west, and for a warrior there is nothing that could surpass this good fortune. That I should be able to go ahead of all the other warriors of this country and lay down my life for the sake of my master's benevolence is an honor to my family and has been my most fervent desire for many years.
After I am slain, you must lovingly care for all your younger brothers, beginning with Marek, in my stead. Your younger brothers must earnestly look to you as they would to their father, and must never disobey you.
As they grow up, they should one by one present themselves to the Lord Crimea or his only daughter Elincia should he fall, make efforts with their own various talents, do whatever they are commanded, be on friendly terms with one another, and remain forever grateful to their ancestors, by whose blessings our family was established and its descendants succored.
They must be determined to stand with Lord Crimea's bloodline in both its ascent and decline, in times of peace and in times of war; and either waking or sleeping they must never forget that they will serve his clan, and his clan alone. To be avaricious for land or to forget old debts because of some passing dissatisfaction, or to even temporarily entertain treacherous thoughts is not the Way of Man. Even if all the other provinces of Crimea were to unite against our lord, our descendants should not set foot inside another fief to the end of time. Simply, in no matter what circumstances, unify with the heart of one family - of elder and younger brothers - exert yourselves in the cause of loyalty, mutually help and be helped by one another, preserve your righteousness and strive in bravery, and be of a mind never to stain the reputation of a clan that has not remained hidden from the world, but has gained fame in military valor for generations, especially since the days of the Governor of Melior.
At any rate, if you will take it into your mind to be sincere in throwing away your life for your master, you will not have the slightest fear or trembling even with the advent of innumerable impending calamities.
I am now 62 years of age. Of the number of times that I have barely escaped death since the time I was in Begnion I have no idea. Yet, not once have I acted in a cowardly way. Man's life and death, fortune and calamity are in the fate of the times, and thus one should not search out after what he likes. What is essential is to listen to the words of the older retainers, to put to use men of skill and understanding, to not commit acts of adolescent self-will, and to receive the remonstrances of your retainers. But above all, remain true to your moral codes as a man and knight. Honor, no matter how dire the battle, never desert it.
The entire country will soon be in the hands of your master, Lord Crimea or if the worst comes, his beloved daughter Elincia whom I have cherished as the daughter I could not have. If this is so, the men who served him will no doubt hope to become daimyo by his appointment. You should know that if such feelings arise, they are inevitably the beginning of the end of one's fortunes in the Way of the Loyal Warrior.
Being affected by the avarice for office and rank, or wanting to become a Lord and being eager for such things ... will not one then begin to value his life? And how can a man commit acts of martial valor if he values his life? A man who has been born into the house of a warrior and yet places no loyalty in his heart and thinks only of the fortune of his position will be flattering on the surface and construct schemes in his heart, will forsake righteousness and not reflect on his shame, and will stain the warrior's name of his household to later generations. This is truly regrettable. It is not necessary to say such a thing, but you should raise the name of your ancestors in this world yet a second time. Moreover, as I have already spoken to you about the management of our clan's affairs, there is no need to speak of that again. You have already seen and heard of what has been regulated from years past.
Be first of all prudent in your conduct and have correct manners, develop harmony between master and retainers, and have compassion on those beneath you. Be correct in the degree of rewards and punishments, and let there be no partiality in your degree of intimacy with you retainers. The foundation of man's duty as a man is in "truth." Beyond this, there is nothing to be said.
Ludveck placed the scroll down on the table near him and ran out of the house into an artic-like windstorm. What a fool he was! All of this time, where his father would have told him to go right, his treasonous retainer Erebus guided him to the left. Everything he had said and done in the name of Crimea was for his own selfish gains. He was only blind to the fact because of his ego and the honeyed words of those who supported him!
Where were they? Those that conspired with him, plotted with him, killed with him… where were they upon this island? Many, Erebus included, were thought of as unwitting pawns in his planning and were let free to roam Crimea. Unpunished, unchastised, and untouched. Irony of ironies.
He ran to the edge of a cliff that stood over the rocky coastline. He stood and opened his arms, unfurling the tattered evening cloak that cracked like wings in the tempest wind. He had come here often and contemplated the end before, but this time he had a real reason.
"If I step but one foot more, taken into the embrace of gravity, fall and be dashed upon the stones far below shall I die. To die again, mheheehe." He laughed as he sucked in the air sharply, his sanity slipping from his mind like sand between the fingers. "If only it were that simple, if only I could."
He leaned forward towards the edge, almost as if he dared fate to claim him. His voice became a low whisper. "You cannot claim me, for you do not know me. You do not know my name. I have become Cerberus, the wolf guard at the gateway to hell. I am untouched by the fates that circle me. Do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR?!" He yelled the words into the lightning storm and drew forth a blade. Like his conscious, it was ruined and battered but it too could still function, could still kill.
"This madness will never end. I have looked into the blackest heart of it all. I was fed blood from the blade once I was born. I know that it will rage on, and on, and on and on. For in the future, so long as two hearts beat there will be war. I have seen Melior in the past and I see it now, a web spun by traitors from songs they have sung in the night under the guile of peace to claim it for themselves. I see the fires of senselessness, they burn like a set of eyes and I see my face in them… but I do not know if it is still my face."
He stood back from the edge. "I see the dead, and they stretch on. The killers and the kill, clad in the robes of treachery, living steel and a beast of legends. Palaces of foulness, steel rusted by hatred. Spreading their filth and poison to all, man or beast."
Ludveck's breath hitched in his lungs. "I see it all. The Mark of the Cornerstone… I know what it means. If nothing else, I know what it means now." His voice lowered to a whisper once more. "I am Cerberus, yes. I have been rejected by death itself, the beast that watches the grave, the undying amongst the dead! I am the last loyal man under a sea of traitorous stars!"
He heard a footstep from behind him, and his eyes were like that of wild beast. "And I have come for you." He leapt with a feral roar to the newcomer, clad in stainless metal, gilded with scales and cloth that told of his nobility.
No sword was drawn when Ludveck charged, but in the flash of a second a long curved blade was held aloft to block the shattered sword. In the gale of lighting and wind, the stranger fought against the Fallen Son of Crimea.
Sparks flashed as their blades connected again, each side fighting with all of their might. Where this newcomer fought with a cold determination and skill, Ludveck assaulted with a maddened furry. Blade against blade, the two seemed to be evenly matched. However, as Ludveck swung in again with a low blow, the figure spun his sword at an almost inhuman speed. "Enough."
Ludveck's broken blade was slashed out of his hands and a closed plate fist slammed into his face. He was thrown to the ground and the figure stood over him. Sense came back to Ludveck as the blade was near him. Here it was, the death he was looking for. "Finish it." He growled as the stranger looked at him. When he spoke, it was a powerful voice resonant of ages long past.
"If this was a battle, I would have done it already. You, Ludveck of Felirae, are scum. Not worthy of life and not even the consideration of respect." The curved blade was raised to strike him down. Eyes screwed shut, Ludveck braced himself for the killing blow.
The blade cut through the howling wind with a soul-damaging cry. Metal impacted soil but no pain or blood came. Ludveck opened his eyes and the blade was buried into the ground mere inches away from his face. The figure crossed his arm, azure eyes burned in the night storm like the lightning around them. "But you have use, Ludveck. You have skills, talents, and a powerful weapon arm to back them up. Such things I have use for."
"I do not want to be your… pawn! I want to die and sleep the sleep of eternity!" Ludveck shouted over the storm. The figure met him with an equal measure.
"War comes for Tellius. There will be plenty of opportunities to find the death you want. Not a reviled death like that of the butcher's block but that of a hero. To die with your hands wrapped around the throat of your enemy."
"I do not care for war. I want Erebus' head on a plate." Ludveck growled. The figure picked Ludveck up by his collar, and for the first time got a real good look at the figure. The metal was old and artisanal designed for his armor and weapons, much like his father. Was this an apparition of his father, sent to give him a purpose to absolve himself of all these regrets?
No, there was a person behind this armor. Blue eyes radiating ultramarine flame that casted the cloth and scale tabard he wore, carved with runes Ludveck did not know. "And you will have his head, along with many others. I can only promise you war, but vengeance and forgiveness will be yours."
Ludveck took in a deep breath of the air. He was to be a pawn, but the reward he sought would be his at long last. "If death follows you, so shall I."
The figure chuckled once, and placed his hands on Ludveck's temples. The runes flared to life, and Ludveck the Penitent drank deep of his memories.