The Chronicles of Zelnite
Author's Note: Good day and welcome dear readers! This will be my first published work, recounting the tales of the Great Thief Zelnite, one of my personal favorite units. Being that it's my first piece I'd like to encourage any and all reviews, good or bad, it is my simple hope that through you I can become a better writer and make each story better than the last. Please note that I am constantly forming ideas for new stories that may not necessarily be this one, each story shall follow a different unit and more will be released in each as the ideas come to me.
*I of course do not own Brave Frontier, I do think I would be richer than Zelnite if that were the case, but I can dream.*
Well, a bit long winded, but without further ado, I present to you, the tale of Zelnite!
Humble Beginnings
The full moon above the grand city of La Veda lit the night up like day, and made the day look like night in comparison. The ghastly white of the landscape around it was set in stark contrast by the bright city. In the middle of its Festival of Light; a celebration to Lucius, it was consumed in gold and red light over every visible inch of it. Caravans trailed to the city from all directions, lanterns burning bright gold paths as folks from all over Grand Gaia came to the city for the annual weeklong festival. There was an air about La Veda, one of cheer and merriment; to enjoy the fruits of the earth, their domain, whether they thanked the gods for it or not.
At the heart of the city was its famed market, a place one could step into and obtain any item available in all the Six Continents. During the festival it was packed in practically shoulder to shoulder as denizens of the other five kingdoms took up stands to hawk their very best wares. And it was in this atmosphere of crowded carelessness and euphoria that a predator might find his place, after all, what man even has a right to his purse if he can't keep track of it?
And so, safely nestled in his dank little corner of a nearby alley, did just such a thief base his actions. The man's fiery red hair was obscured beneath a cowl of jade green, the same green of the cloak that encircled his thin frame. His body beneath was sheathed in boiled brown leather. At both his sides were a pair of rusty old daggers; the only he'd been able to afford, not that it mattered, they'd cut purse strings just as easy, and he'd be swimming in loot by days end. A satchel hung beside one of the daggers, a handful of Vrikshan fireworks safely nestled beside them, he grinned, for a people who lived beneath a giant tree, the Vrikshans made some STUNNING pyrotechnics.
From his spot in the alley his ears were full to bursting with sharp cries of merchants vending their wares and the mixed voices of nobles and commoners , gossip flowing like water; one in particular caught his ear, a Bariuran princess had just arrived with her suitor for the tournament later in the night, perhaps he'd pay them a visit. The crowds in the market were a vibrant array of colors, every hue and tone under the sun, milling about in a kaleidoscope of motion and color. The wonderful tinkling of zel ringing out over all of it, music to his ears. He closed his gray-blue eyes for a moment, taking a deep lungful of air, he savored the marvelous scents, laden thick and pure with spices as the food vendors wafted their odorous wares all the way through to his alley.
Grinning ear to ear, he lunged into the crowd, disappearing almost instantly; his green cloak allowing him to blend in better than any gray would've allowed. His knives were out, cutting purse strings with effortless ease. He'd snatch the purses up and deposit the zel wherever it could fit, he'd fitted small pouches all over his person, up and down both legs, the inside of his cloak, up and down his chest, his knees and elbows, he was going to make a spectacle of it. His cloak billowed about him as he moved, too fast to focus on, and the cloak was just flashy enough to keep the eyes off the masterful snatching and secreting of coins.
He milled through the upper half of the market this way, snatching any purse left exposed, broad grin never leaving his face as he carved a trail of zel-less shoppers in his wake. He spotted a nearby jewelry stand, its vendor making the horrid mistake of standing in front of it rather than guarding their wares. With effortless grace, he slipped behind the line of stands, flipping overhead of an oblivious minotaur, its enormous bulk swaddled in dark gray robes and hunched over a shopper before him, dealing over a set of plates. Scarcely stopping his forward movement, he grabbed a fistful of gold and pearls and stuffed them into his upper right breast pocket, leaping onward once it was all secure. He heard, over the ringing of gold in his dozens of pockets, a deep, harsh shout, the pounding of heavy steps behind him, his grin widened, his first tracker.
Turning on his heels, still backpedaling faster than most could move running, he spotted a hulking titan of a man, his gleaming bronze muscle bound body covered in loose fitting yellow silks that caught up on all manner of things as he ran. The thief chuckled to himself, thoroughly amused at the man's plight. He spun back around, he focused on the path ahead of him, dotted with people, all scurrying about, too busy to see him coming. His eyes locked on two standing side by side, fat purses bouncing invitingly from their hips, he almost felt sad about what he did next. Pulling back both arms over his head, the thief tossed both his daggers, which flew true, point first, tearing through both purses perfectly on point, gold coins fountaining out of them to the ground below. In an instant there were people in the crowd on their hands and knees greedily snatching at the free coins, the two figures who'd just lost all their coin angrily fighting with many of them. The thief leapt over the tangle of flesh and cloth, not even missing a beat as he heard the brute giving chase stumble and crash into the assembly, he laughed, the threat evaded.
Pacing over to a nearby stand, he found his daggers easily by their rusty-red shine. Picking them up, he made to continue his dash when he slammed directly into another man. Backing away slightly, rubbing his shoulders from the collision, he sized up the man before him; frail body, dressed in a torn black shirt, with dusty green pants and scuffed old brown boots. He had matted silver hair, caked with dirt, and held up with a plain red bandana, his dark green eyes gazing with fright into those of the thief.
"H...hello?" He stammered, unsure of himself before the green cloaked figure. "C..Could ye spare a zel or two mistah? Me sis is wrung wit sickness sah, anyfin ye can give so I can pinch 'er a tonic." The thief considered him a moment, then thought better of it, he'd done this to give to the poor anyhow, better sooner than later. Pulling out enough zel that the man could get a tonic and a meal for his sister, he handed the coins over, smiling beneath his cowl, a brilliant white smile that spread over to the man. "Thank ye sah, thank ye!" He came forward quite suddenly, embracing the thief before him, swept with gratitude, the thief was apprehensive at first, but chuckled, returning it. Then something caught his eye, a brown bag hung, corded to the small of the man's back, coins visibly stretching the seams of it, but hanging soundlessly even as the man moved, the thief grinned, not one to be fooled. With a single wrist flick he'd unslung the purse, taking it in his right hand, he swept the man's legs from behind, while shoving forward with his left hand, flipping the smaller man back first to the stony ground. Stunned, the man held in his hand a red bag, a knife in his other that he'd secreted away until the embrace, he frantically dug into the red bag, pulling out only false wooden coins, he gazed at the thief with wide eyes.
"Hehe, really? The humble beggar? Boy I invented that one, don't think you can trick me like all the other poor suckers here!" Sticking the bulging coin sack into his inner cloak pocket, the thief took off again, towards the south end of the city, but not before turning back and shouting, "But do tell your sister, I can be the cure for any ailment that falls upon her!"
And so the thief continued, well into the night, relieving the rich market goers of their wealth, by the end of it he felt his limbs physically weighed down with the strain of all the gold on his person. But still the pockets he'd created held strong, straining against the bundles they carried but never tearing, he was about ready to end his evening, but then he thought back to the choice bit of gossip he'd heard earlier , figuring instead of turning in, he'd pay a visit to one very lucky lady.
Looking towards the center of the city, where the mages of the La Veda court had conjured an enormous clock suspended in midair' at all times spelling out the current time in bright flames that changed color regularly, with so many events going on during the festival it was simply imperative that all citizens know the time at all possible moments. It was currently only half an hour until midnight, he'd need to be getting to the town square, he had a tournament to crash.
The town square was an absolute storm of people, all yelling and cheering for the contestants gathered for the tournament, the roars of the crowd were killer on the young thief's ears. He scanned through the assembled knights, all looking to make a name for themselves, he grinned, he'd be stealing the fame today, but he supposed he'd humor the lot of them later in the evening.
"So...if I were a princess...hmm, I'd still probably be surrounded by women" He grinned to himself, pleased with the joke. There was a sudden lull in the crowds cheers, it seemed the tournament was about to begin. He spotted two mages in the center of the huge square ring they had assembled for the fighters, one of them was clad in full gold armor, arcs of lightning visibly cackling over his slight frame, sending his dark hair to stand straight up on his head as he argued with the other mage. The other mage was a silver haired man, shorter than the first, his tunic black and violet, a bright red aura welling up around himself as he spoke. Finally seeming to come to terms with each other, they raised their hands into the air, a single bolt of red lightning shooting out from between them, striking the clock above, scattering the flames to the winds. A shadow swept out from the two of them, darting around the square, engulfing torches and magic lights and snuffing them out, gradually plunging the square into darkness, hushing the crowd assembled as well. Finally, the shadows leapt into the air, widening and stretching over the square, forming a full dome that stretched over the entirety of the area.
The thief watched as all around the square, several small torches were being relit, hanging around groups of small stands, selling out various foodstuffs to the onlookers. The thief licked his lips as he gravitated towards one nearby, selling pak-pak puffs, his personal weakness. He doled out a handful of coins to the red haired woman behind the counter, instantly cramming three of the cherry-filled pastries into his mouth, savoring the sweet juices that filled his palate and ran down his chin. He cracked one eye as a roar erupted from the crowd, he looked towards the center ring, where the mages had conjured an enormous divining light overhead.
On one end, there came a great white horse cantering up onto the elevated square, sitting at the back of it was a radiant woman, who the thief could only presume was the supposed princess. She wore her hair cascading down her back, curling slightly, same shine and color as the sun. Her dress was a fine-wine red, with white tresses flowing from the hips like the petals of a beautiful flower. Around her shoulders was a fine, white furred cloak, which framed her pale face amazingly, as it was upturned in a radiant smile at the man riding on the horse with her.
He was a handsome man, striking an imposing figure from atop the horse. His long black hair hung around his shoulders, down around a sharp, angular face with piercing yellow eyes, strapped across his back was an enormous sword, with a wicked red blade. He wore a strange mix of clothing, a plain blue and gold shirt, with his shins and hands covered in steel, with a bright red cape gathered around him. He had a ghost of a smile on his face, offered up to the woman beside him, it would seem this was the suitor, it'd be a shame if he lost…
The thief smirked, eyeing up the lovely furred cloak about the princess' shoulders, he undid the latch on his side pouch. He pulled out a long red tube, a plain casing for an extraordinary invention, he grinned wickedly, breaking one end of it off. He held it in his hand, while reaching back into the pocket, pulling out three others like it, he unfurled a wick from each of them, a terrible idea forming in his head. As the two lovebirds on stage had their moment, waving to the adoring crowd assembled around them, and the thief wound his way through the groups, towards the food stand nearest the stage.
Reaching it, he held the rods up to the torch there, he heard the man selling food begin shouting at him, but he was too wrapped up in his business, his smile engulfing his face. The fuses lit, sparking lightly, bright lights beginning to erupt from the rods from the sheer heat alone, not even close to detonation, this would be a spectacle. He heard shouting over the crowd, turning around, he saw a group of minotaurs all closing in on him, seeming ready to grab him, he stuck his tongue out, mocking the security that so thought they could tame him. He leapt up onto the stage, fireworks sparking, he brought them together, the fires chewing at the fuses, getting closer and closer to detonation, finally satisfied, he felt a tugging at his robe as the minotaurs below tried to wrench him from the stage. He swung the fireworks downwards, bringing to bear the bright flashes and brilliantly colored sparks to their eyes, he felt the pressure on his cloak remove itself, he leapt up to his feet, ready. He blew one solemn breath into the flames, and they billowed up a good foot in front of his face, earning him a number of gasps from the crowd, and with that, he flung the fireworks towards the horse.
The red rods bounced and rolled across the stage, coming to settle, sparking and banging , directly beneath the horse, which swayed dangerously, neighing anxiously. Finally, the flames fizzled out of existence, and the rods seemed to go dead.
The fire rods finally burst in a blinding explosion of red and blue light, searing the mare's underbelly, causing it to rear back on its legs in fear. The loving couple was flung from the saddle, the princess fell with a shriek, her suitor not far behind. The thief dashed towards them, leaping forwards and catching the surprisingly light bundle that was the damsel in his arms. She gasped, her voice fluttering slightly, her eyes were closed, face scrunched up cutely in anticipation of an impact that never came, the thief's breath caught in his throat at the sight.
"Oh..Oh Arus," she giggled, eyes still squeezed shut," You actually caught me, so gently too, you always were fast to reac…" Her eyes snapped open, locking with the thief's, "You're...not Arus" The thief couldn't resist.
"No, I'm better." He stole a kiss upon the lovely lady's dainty lips, her eyes widened, she froze up against him, and he thought he'd gone too far, he was dimly aware of the fireworks having finally sputtered out, meaning people now had a full view of him and the princess.
Then, much to his surprise, she melted into the kiss, deepening it and closing her eyes once more. After a few seconds, they separated, the thief's lips tingled slightly as he smiled at her, the light taste of mint lingering on them. "I'm a thief, y'know, stealing things, like hearts," despite herself, the princess giggled at this, then her eyes widened, looking over the daring thief's shoulders, who felt a cold metal press into his right shoulder, knowing what it was he felt his muscles bunch in anticipation, but he continued. "Come find me, I'll be staying at the Nymphs and Spirits, think about it." She blushed at the mention of the brothel, though the thief noted there was no immediate dismissal of his proposal, he had just enough time to smirk before he was whirled around by his shoulder to stand face-to-face with Arus, whose golden eyes seemed infinitely more intimidating up close.
A mailed fist came straight at his face, the thief twisted nimbly out of the way of the blow, bringing an elbow up to slam into the side of Arus' head, who stumbled from the weight of the strike.
"Ah! Good arms, too bad I'm going to have to tear them from your torso scoundrel." The thief gulped. " What do you keep, stones in your armor?" Considering this, the thief flicked open the pouch at his elbow to check.
"Diamonds, actually, you'd do well to figure out the difference, it'd be a shame if this lovely lady got some common rock as a gift." Arus roared, he tore his sword free of the bindings that lashed it to his back, bringing it to bear on the thief. He lashed out in a fury, his swings hardly perceivable with their speed, but the thief had been hunted enough times to know when to move, this one wasn't the brightest man to want him dead. Two rusty daggers came up to meet a particularly savage downward slash, catching the blade while jarring the thief's shoulders.
Arus grinned wickedly, bright red flames licking their way up the blade, the thief watched in horror as the sword actually MELTED through the daggers, in seconds leaving him holding only two handles. Quickly recovering, he tossed the handles, leaping upwards to dodge a swing aimed at his ankles, he pulled out two small metal orbs from the satchel at his side, his last inventory. "It's all gotta be about spectacle Caesar, all about spectacle," he muttered to himself, sidestepping a stab at his chest, a daft idea forming in his head.
As another downwards slash came at him, he palmed both of the orbs, swallowing hard. He clapped both hands at either side of the blade as it descended, his face contorted in pain as the flames licked around the spheres, hungrily biting at his gloved hands. Arus looked positively stunned for a moment, surprised at the strength the smaller thief possessed, but shook it off quickly, the flames about the blade intensifying, casting his face in an eerie glow. The thief felt the orbs heating in his hand, soon surpassing even the flames themselves in intensity, he grit his teeth, "all about spectacle, all about spectacle," he kept repeating.
The orbs were normally the cores of the fireworks he'd tossed, what gave them their bang that usually made them so potent, he'd taken them out in the interest of not harming anyone, but Arus seemed the type who deserved it. They'd sit in the middle of the sparking and volatile compounds that sparked and fizzed loudly, heating, and heating, until eventually… NOW!
He flung the blade aside, gasping in relief as the fires left his hands, knowing he'd probably caused some permanent damage to himself with that stunt. Arus slashed forward, the thief dodging around it, planting the superheated metal orbs in the knight's pocket, then scurrying away. He swore he could see steam rising from Arus' ears now as he charged again, leaping high up, the thief held, held, held, then leapt to meet the knight in midair. He spun gracefully, heart pounding, aiming a kick at the knight, knowing he'd just killed himself if he timed it improperly. The kick never landed.
The thief felt the sword briefly punch into his chest, digging in, then suddenly it cut a path to the right as Arus was torn from the air, a great explosion sending him sailing clean out of the ring. The thief landed with a flourish, pawing at his chest, thankful to find the cut was just at the surface, stung like hell though. He looked towards the princess, who stood there covering her mouth with both hands, dumbstruck, he couldn't help but laugh, he winked at her suggestively, and she only hid her face more behind her hands, though she couldn't hide the blush the stood out brightly against her alabaster skin. He felt a pang of sorrow as he saw the horse beside her, snorting lightly, it's hind legs visibly blackened.
He turned then to the crowds assembled, who had gone quiet as death after Arus had attacked him, he gulped. "Okay, come now, this is your legend, it started today, with this fight, you breathed fire at their horse, stole the girl, and singlehandedly wiped the floor with her knight in shining armor, the stories are only going to get more lavish from here, now give em' a closer, hood or no hood? How's my hair? Eh, not that great today, hood it is." He muttered to himself. Raising his hands up high to address the crowds, he took a breath, and began.
"Good people of the Six Continents! Today I've stolen the spotlight of our skilled knights, as indeed I've stolen many things more, for the common folk among you! The knights of our realms cater like so many others to the wealthy who would abuse it, but where are OUR knights!? They do not fight our crime, as you've just seen it's doubtful they even CAN, but when they cannot combat the poverty that taints our streets, as I know it taints all our streets, La Veda is no exception, nor Vriksha, or Agni, but that, that is a crime greater than even I can commit. So I take back what is ours, the money good citizens break themselves for, that line not our pockets, but coffers where they will never see the light of day, or use for anything but bragging rights. And so I will continue to do so until my last dying breath, so catch me if you think you can all you noble knights, I've stolen from you, just as I'll steal away from death, starting tonight, our festival of lights!"
He smiled to himself, pleased at his rhymes, "Perhaps I'll do that more," he thought to himself. He took a breath, hopeful he'd see the lights in their eyes, agreement with what he'd said, support, a riot, an uproar, but there was only silence. He sighed, it was a path he'd walk alone then, small matter, as long as one man stood, then he could always give them hope. He caught a glimpse of the group of minotaurs moving up both sets of steps to the platform, shouting bloody murder as they came at him, it was time to steal into the night then.
Turning, he made to run off in the direction he'd flung Arus, when the yellow-eyed devil himself suddenly crashed back onto the stage, wings of bright lively flames jutting from his back, death in his eyes. So, Arus was the type to get up in seconds from an explosion that literally tore his armor and half his shirt off with it, noted. The thief didn't hesitate for even a breath, bolting past Arus while the knight was standing up, jumping off the stage, sailing out over the assembled crowd, he decided to leave one last impression. Using both hands to flip open the satchels lining his chest in one smooth motion, he tore all ten of them free, flinging them out over the people, raining down more zel upon them than many of them probably made in months, a collective cry went up then, one of joy, as people grabbed for all they could. Landing on the other end of the throng, he took a glance over his shoulder to see the brutish minotaurs and Arus attempting to shove through the people, but they were having none of it. The minotaurs were stopped, but the thief watched with a sinking heart as Arus simply leapt up and over the crowd, the wings granting him superhuman mobility it seemed, he turned and ran from the blazing knight.
He tore through the streets of La Veda faster than he thought he'd ever run, but he could still hear the even breathing of death chasing fast on his tail, death's footsteps were louder than he thought they'd be. He saw the great black dome's edge ahead of him through the meager light the street torches provided, contestants couldn't leave the area until the tournament was over, all he had to do was make it through…
Arus, knowing that was the bride-stealer's plan, soared forward, his fury driving him into the air and down directly into the thief's path. He brandished his blade, sure now that he'd make it quick and be back to his beloved. The green cloaked man skidded to a stop as he landed, running towards a nearby alley instead, Arus fumed, unwilling to relent.
Said thief, the minute he was deep enough into the alley and out of sight of his chaser, slammed into a mass of metal. Rubbing his head, he gazed at the mass of silver before him, the man was clad in silver plate armor that fitted to a lanky body perfectly, his shoulder length silver hair coiled messily about an angular, handsome face, piercing silver eyes observing him quietly, a purple cape breaking up his monotone appearance.
"That's a lot of money you threw out there," He said simply. The thief was stunned, the man had seen that? And BEATEN him here? Either the knight was bluffing, or he was fast.
"Uh huh," he replied dumbly, very nervous around the man, who he could only assume was a knight of La Veda. Nodding, the man began rapidly firing off questions, barely waiting for answers between.
"Did you steal the money from any churches?" "No." "Because it'd be a real shame if I find out you defiled the gods." "I didn't." "Where's the money going?" "Orphanages mainly." "All of it?" "Well a bit to new equipment so I can continue this too." "Good, you don't claim to be a complete saint." "No sir." There was a pause finally, then "Alright, get going then, I'd run, no need for anyone to see what's about to happen to this one."
The thief was stunned, not sure whether to believe this stranger or not. "Or I can leave you to him, I'm sure the way you were running it's all part of the plan." The thief considered this, and promptly took off past the knight, pausing once he'd run a good hundred feet to look back. He watched in awe as the knight he'd spoken with met Arus' blade for blade, the hurricane blows of the phoenix's strikes not able to even keep up with the silver haired knight, who moved so quickly to block them all the thief couldn't even see him half the time. Then, unceremoniously, the knight simply blocked another slash and promptly slammed a fist into the side of Arus' head, the phoenix crumpled instantly, wings vanishing without a trace. The knight turned around, silver eyes glittering dangerously in the darkness as he glared right at the thief, who didn't spare a moment in continuing his mad dash.
Later that evening at the Nymphs and Spirits, the thief sat, feet up at a table where he played a rousing game of Queen's Hand with the fellows gathered there. To his left was the thief he'd met in the market earlier, Leon was his name, the teen seemed thoroughly enraptured by his skill, as he recounted past exploits, and those to come. On his right was a man from Bariura, dressed in a fine violet coat, white hair messy as he concentrated on the game at hand, his purple feathered hat sitting on the table beside him, he'd not yet noticed the thief had pocketed the totem card he'd stuck up his sleeve. And sitting across from them was a quiet one, his spiky pink hair contrasted against muscular, bronze skin, his gray eyes never left the thief, which he found unnerving, a black cloth obscured the lower half of his face.
"Alright gentlemen, three queens! Hearts, Crystals, and Gems" Zeul proudly declared, Leon furrowed his brow, still not quite grasping the game, Zeul reached towards the sheer mountain of zel before them, but the thief stopped him, smirking beneath the green cowl, Zeul gave him an incredulous look, but sat back in the creaky wooden seat regardless.
" Jack of gems, king of hearts, queen of crystals, and totem of spheres, sorry lads, I've got orphanages to build, and a tab that needs paying!" Leon gave a slight whoop to the air at this, thoroughly pleased though the thief couldn't imagine why.
"Gawsh sah, how'd you get so good at this uh?" Leon asked, Zeul's eyes suddenly widened, the thief saw he was running his hand over his left sleeve where he'd kept the card, he simply grinned, knowingly. Zeul stormed off now, going to seek the comforts of one of the working girls, perhaps Luna, while the thief contented himself with pocketing his winnings.
"They'll talk about what you did today," the pink haired man spoke up now, his accent thick, yet foreign even to the thief's ears. He raised an eyebrow, he wondered exactly how many questionable people HAD seen it. "Already they've taken to calling you...mmm what was it...ah yes.. Richer von Zel, The Zel Knight."
"Hehe, Zelnite," he said, missing the man's meaning through the accent," I like it."