Chapter 1: Disarray of State and Mind
Theo was pacing slowly through the large meadow of flora, hands behind his back with a light swaying motion. He couldn't help but smile at the beautiful scenery that laid before him, a peaceful sea of lilies, amaryllises and irises, just to note a few. How pleasant, he considered, to see the wonders of spring once again. They had disappeared for far too long. The Busy Lizzies exploded with shades of pink among the bushes and the carnations underneath the small thickets. It was so alluring and fascination that evolution can produce such awe. He made a promise to revisit this landscape in the future.
He noted the elevation of the hill as he resumed his calm trek, after a brief stop, glancing at a broken hilt in the ground. Who would just drop rubbish here that could be repaired? It was better left alone. He doesn't often find the remains of destroyed weapons every Brebacus, but he supposed this can occur every now and then when exploring.
At the summit of the hill, he stopped and surveyed the land, being able to see for miles and miles. With certain infrastructure in his vision that stand out in the sea of shame. The light still slowly became brighter of the day, and two beings were already in a pointless kerfuffle. So is the way of the world. And the splashing of the waves against the sturdy cliffs, that held such precious infrastructure, important and reliable to many across the lands. So is the flora it hosts, some he had never laid his eyes upon previously in life… strange. Someone had gone on such an expedition to foreign lands. And someone else had to have left parts of what could be a perfectly functioning tool for the future. Does no one care about reduce and reusing? That would be in an ideal land, after all. He had no time to imagine lands of fantasy. His reality could be harmed.
Begging to draw rough sketches of the land before him on his pad, he noted the positions of certain objects that are of important use for the future. He never knew of a lighthouse which existed on a lone rock. That implied many interesting things. There were snowy mountains in the far distance, along with the horizon of the ocean. Some few small huts of insignificant proportions, and large clearings of flatland. Those were ruled out. What use were they to anyone? Perhaps one was a water bottle store. Irrelevant. Although the lack of erections around such an important place should have been a red flag to any sane and thoughtful mind, but he considered himself unique for a reason.
Only seventeen possibilities existed in in this time. It was… boy, was that a surprise! Almost a ghost town when contrasted to the usual affairs that take place every sun and moon cycle (unless the names 'sun' and 'moon' had been renamed again, for reasons beyond his measure). It was definitely nicer than what he first assumed. It would be finer for a leisurely work of one basic man. He had to bring up such a pressing issue, what was the time? He had to know, leaving his temporary residence at such a certain time frustrated his nerves. He wasn't comfortable with the situation. He took a step to the side, out of the shadow of a tree… Judging from the position of the bright light in the sky, and the darkness radiating softly from his body… He softly cursed himself for leaving so late. So much for the craving of a carton of milk his stomach adopted. His voyage lasted longer than he presupposed, and the local outlets don't open until about nine. Or was it eight? He never cared much for attention to details. He needed energy to be used more properly, and not simply squandered. He would consume the liquid later then, too much chagrin. He could make it back in time. He was also extremely thankful that he hadn't been dehydrated for the past… well details don't exactly matter. Reading over his artistic notes, he placed his pad in a certain coppice of hedges behind him. Who would lose meaningless objects in the bushes of this location anyways? And carrying out drawings was a loss of necessary vitality, and may raise eyebrows.
With a sigh of regret, he persistently carried out his trip, blatantly ignoring the clangs of blades hitting one another, as they increased in volume with each step made towards the immaculate creation. At least this time, the crowd was tiny in size, contrasted with many precursory encounters. The figures that notice him for a slight moment or which he walks past. He refused to deliberately ruin his day by wasting precious breath with hopeless sods roided out with magic that can erase you from existence. Apart from the obvious certainty of his scabbard protecting his cloned sword of mistreatments, it was believable enough to contain his disguise of being a skilful combatant in the art of war. All you needed was a simple weapon of any type, and people will pass you up on it. It was this or his beloved green and gold bat, but as he has gained knowledge, wasn't quite as effective or useful in dodging judgements or questions. A sword was all that was necessary…
He wished that these imbeciles never grasped a hilt in the first place. Such needless actions being undertaken, to prove… something incomprehensible. And even as he kept at trooping by airless combatants, his disdain for their carelessness of engaging in violent struggles with blows that could be fatal grew further, and considering the mentality of this being accepted nation-wide, and even being fun… To exert joy, would be the main motivation, he supposed. It was ludicrously insane.
Turning a blind-eye made him feel better, yet this was a hard task to complete. He has forever denounced this way of life. The notion of this being the sole driving life-force for some… terrified him. Violence isn't the only solution possible in this world. Not that any intelligent being is aware of this, rather ironic.
As his walk had been longer than anticipated, he managed to reach the entrance of such a pristine and invaluable structure, he restrained himself from spitting on the wooden floor. The disgust surged through his veins, stepping into such beauty of revulsion. Not once could he have ever apprehend the rationale of everyone's love and respect for such an establishment. Is no one aware of the horrific past that has occurred on these atrocious ground? Why would he even ask such a worthless question, when already aware of the sorrow cause? The blind trust in a system designed to profit the strongest over the weak, into a figure that spends more time partying than taking dangerous matters seriously. It was inconceivable within his idealist mind… yet it still existed. He could not ignore the facts which speak before him.
It had been rather abandoned on this sunny morning with negligible clouds positioned in the sky. Tons of space with no menacing thugs to fill up. Bizarre, but it was the late dusk of the weekend, so he couldn't quite fault people, not that this was in any form a complaint. It was much more peaceful than past experiences. No noticeable figures appeared either, which made him raise a suspicious eyebrow. There was an event proceeding without his knowledge, which consisted of undesirable heads of notorious factions, very influential and vigorous factions.
The silence that drowned the halls made him shift uncomfortably. Was there no one here? An event must be occurring, or it may just be a slow day. When was the last… he remembered now. He inaudibly gazed at the choice of materials used to create fluctuating patterns of art and serenity, yet also extremely vulnerable to collateral damage to a giant blaze of damage. The importance of such structure led him to assume all is not as it may seem, firmly convinced that the timber used might be infused with something to keep it strong. Lightly tapping on a bundle of plants, the lack of a tiny echo confirmed his inkling.
He wandered further, ruling out the rooms of space or just rows of misused substances. The current objective of finding someone was impossible at this rate, not wishing to call out loudly. It might send off a wrong message. So he continued walking, and pondered. The history behind an opulent detritus such as this was, how he perceived, incredibly faulty, from what the masses suspect without a second thought. How the negatives overwhelmed the positives to such a degree he couldn't help but shudder at the purposely disregard for the truth of such travesty.
"Sir?" Perhaps it was for another time. It wouldn't be hard to believe that this feminine voice was calling out for him. There wasn't anyone else important currently visible, and a complete stranger walking into territories such as this would eventually have to cause someone to have noticed him. But just a lone girl of dark yellow with long light green hair this time. One who initially doesn't appear to train as much as everyone else? He was interested immediately. "Hello there. Are you a new rookie signing up here?"
"Hello to you to, ma'am. Pardon me, yes I am. I got lost while looking around the place. There wasn't anyone to service me, really. Anyone that was kind enough…" End with a mutter. Always gets someone to express their personal opinions or feelings, sometimes to spark curiosity. If that is your intention.
A cheerful yet pedantic and paled smile. How arousing one's interest from this peculiarity. "An accent too…" He caught her words, but played it off as him unable to hear that. An accent too? "Usually people are nice enough to tell you where to go if you just asked." Is that an assertion? "And I apologize for that. For some reason, no one is in right now but security and I." Security? He wouldn't mind in the slightest if you showed him where these beings are currently situated. They must be hiding, somehow, lurking in the shadows, and overhearing conversations… They impressed him, if she isn't lying. They are good at stealth… considering this over glorified amazement, they would have to be experts at it. "My name is Laiyla. It is my job to round up all the new recruits, place you in a waiting room, and fill out the forms, etc. I think you understand the gist of my role."
"And I think you may need to get some rest." A blink. Reveal more to me. "My name is Theodore. And doesn't anyone else help you?"
"Yeah… but they aren't here right now. They don't come in until later. And rookies don't tend to show up this early anyways." Everyone is lazy, noted. "And I'm not tired right now, not that it should be of any concern. My shift of hours are quite short compared to others."
"The bags under your eyes explain otherwise. Have they been relying on you to do work overtime?"
When you show unexpected consideration to someone, whether a complete stranger or even a close friend, they open up to you even more, as you persuade them to believe you have experienced such dreadful feelings before. "Well… kinda. This is part of the year where many start to slack off, as there are a lack of occasions ever occurring… and I take most of the brunt for it." It may not always be effective as requisite, but sometimes it is. According to Theo, it worked for him. Results may vary for the dumber.
They began walking together towards a specific room somewhere near the back of this large assortment of divine waste. "And you don't complain about it?"
"Well, it's only handling the rookies, or any experienced fighter who's just new here. That's mainly taken up by another colleague, and they're easier to deal with." That is an implication of many things which I already know of… or assume to know. Immaturity is harder to deal with than stoic and agile lumbers. So yes, I know it.
"How long have you been working here for?"
"About five years or so."
"And that's good enough reason for them to slack off?"
"They are busy people, enough as it is you have to understand." His words may have come off the wrong way. "They do harder work than I do, overall. Rounding up the young ones isn't as difficult as, say, having to personally deal with each one of them. Paperwork, and to an extent working with data and computers, is easier than finding out if someone is abeyant enough to follow the strict rules that are enforced, where we need few of the veterans to help out, and qualified enough to join RHG in the first place. These are trained professionals, after all. They make a killing off this… I hope they aren't killing anyone in the process."
"Not the fighting-type, are you?"
A sigh of defeat. "I had a go once… it overwhelmed me how much effort they exhaust every time, the gladiators that is. I wouldn't be able to survive based off self-defence. I was much more qualified for this."
"Landing a job as a secretary, kind of."
"Secretary to anything to do with rookies, yes." A heavier breath than normal, as they both fell into a short space of silence. Other than the dimmed murmuring in the far distance, he loved what my ears are able to pick up. The swishing of the leaves outside (and maybe inside) this wonderful monstrosity is welcoming to his senses. Everything felt acceptable. She eventually spoke again, noticing his facial expression. "Enjoying yourself there?"
His ears perked. "I just love the atmosphere… here."
Giggles. "So do I… I haven't particularly had these conversations with new recruits. Are you that bored?"
"Just making small talk is all. Do you prefer the sound of the wind?"
"Oh no, no! I like the silence of this place… I just don't have many interests with the rookies to strike up a conversation such as one like this. They're more of the… how do you explain this…?"
"They're more into fun and games."
"I guess you could say that. They are funny, I have to admit." He wondered if they are charmers, as she chuckled to herself. He hoped not. "They certainly aren't boring to hang out, I can tell you that."
"How many of them do you keep in touch with?"
Feasibly that question struck some nerve within her. "Not very many. Occasionally with few that drop in from time to time, mainly with those who are here nearly every day for their own reasons."
"Hmm." He conjured a concept, which was instantly evaporated. "Getting back to a previous subject discussed, was it that easy to get a job here?"
"…They were hiring."
"…And… it was just lucky timing."
"Yeah I guess. I'm super thankful for it, no problems here." Her waving chortle made him conjure a separate concept, one more realistic in reality.
"You only just got it?"
She murmured softly to herself, that he was unable to pick up on, cursing himself. Every word is as important as the next, and the last. It's a mentality he as followed (with many more points to it) that didn't involve barbarity. "I think 'just' is an understatement. They were extremely… cautious to give away the job to a stranger, but I passed a number of tests, and got them to trust me."
"…Just like that?"
"Yep!"
"You easily gained their trust?"
"Essentially." He held back an expression of bewilderment. How gullible are these idiots? He kept asking the same question over and over, with no distinct conclusion. He chalked it up to laziness and blind stupidity. He couldn't help but notice how cheery she spoke those words too.
"You were easily given a job at one of the most, if not the most, important facilities of the land, perhaps the world? And not once did they consider you being a traitor or any kind?"
"I don't see what the problem is here." He refrained from explaining the absurdity, but let it pass. "They saw how I fought, safe to deem me as not a threat in any way. And they also know where I lived, and my family. Get what I'm implying here?" He slowly nodded, for effect. "And what reason would I have for ever betraying the people I've gotten to know as friends? That would be incredibly suicidal of me."
"So… I have to ask, are trusted enough by someone higher up to take such a position to be so relied on (depending) and to know the works of this particular place inside and out, presumably?"
"That's quite the question… Why are you asking for? I can't see the big deal here. Shouldn't you maybe have more pressing concerns?" Shouldn't you stop avoiding my question? He avoided from quipping the line, not opening his mouth. 'Think before acting' is a very important line to him, which has saved him multiple times in the past. Perhaps he considered that he's raised a lot of suspicion from these questions, and the manner at which he speaks them in…
He shrugged off as nothing. "I'm just curious, is all. And quite bored, for arriving here quite earlier than what anyone expected. You said it yourself."
"Hmm… Why did you come so early in the first place?"
"First, I didn't know arriving at this time is considered 'early'," 'That raises a red flag for me.' "And secondly, I miscounted time of managing to get here. I… wasn't aware this place was so isolated from everywhere else."
"I assumed everyone knew about the location here. Well, you are new, after all. Where are you from?"
"Thorpeden. You?"
"Cullenfield. It's not a bad place, although good luck finding someone who doesn't have a passionately angry opinion about the littlest of things. Such as, for example, politics." No one truly cared for politics in his home town, ice cream was of more importance. He couldn't help but agree scantly. Growing crops was another major concern too, but only when a mild disaster ever struck. Because no one likes ever freezing food for whenever they maybe a drought, or just a bad harvest. They ignored his notion, for reasons beyond their stupidity.
"Politics are quite important in everyone's daily lives."
"For some, yes. RHG's politics on the whole."
"RHG- No, no, I… guess some would… oh never mind. I don't like discussing politics… Because those conversations just never end well… I can understand what living in Cullenfield would feel like." A fairly fascinating response after a confused and inquired look from his profile. So it isn't just an isolated problem, he materialized. Well considering the cluster of battles that occur every day, he safely assumed that politics isn't quite as high on the list of priorities as one may justifiably think. Not trying to get raided by bandits is a pressing concern. Not for him, anyways.
"I can imagine they have more pressing things on their mind."
"I guess, with all the fighting and all… You are a rookie too. What would that be for you?"
Many things. "Learning, simply put. I find knowledge more powerful than combat, preferably."
"Yet you are here... just in case."
"I believe this is a quick and easy way to search for friends, wouldn't you agree? And I've heard you cannot join factions unless you are a signed member. No one will accept you, but considering the rules that I've read, it's understandable."
"You sound quite… elegant and intellectual, just by the way you speak, for someone who's young." He took it as a compliment. "Even with your funny accent."
"Funny accent? Is it not common around here?"
"Not that I've ever heard of in my time living." He assumed that because he didn't have Received Pronunciation, he was an idiot to some degree, by the first words discussed together. That was nice, and also interesting.
"And by the way, eighteen years of age is not that young. How old are you then?"
"Twenty five. Compared to those of the past, I'd say you fit right into the brighter category of fighters… more so than who I usually meet. Not in terms of skill, but of how bright you are as a person." Highly debatable, but understandable. He was mature, which caught her off guard, if only mildly.
"…Are you saying everyone else is as dumb as rocks?"
"No! Umm… I'm just saying you're smart." He chuckled.
"Okay, sure. What time is everyone supposed to be here?"
"About two hours." Of course. He questioned the lack of receiving a memo with the time to arrive at. He got the date down, and the location, but that was all. He held back his frustration.
"Great… well… What exactly do I have to accomplish here?"
"Just a simple test, as in a written one," A small grin surfaced. "A spar against another new recruit, and finally a fighting test against a veteran." The grin vanished off the face of the earth… or just off his face.
"Please, inform me further."
=-=-=-N-=-=-=
"Are you enjoying yourself there?"
A stirring moan met his response, as a light throb arose from his head. And so did a long plank his head rested upon… before realising he had fallen to slumber after some time… yes, everything was coming together. After a long conversation with the nice lady, he took a short nap while waiting for everyone to arrive 'on time'. Other than staring at a paper-thin wall, regarding the historical implications and ruining a content mood, he felt it wouldn't be a problem. But being rudely awoken by an unknown voice, which didn't harm him first, made him think two things. This person was a veteran who was also trying to pass the time, or is another new recruit who feels angst towards everyone. His tone of voice wasn't… in kind, but still calm. "Not before you had woken me."
"You were rousing from your dozing anyways." He moved to a sitting position, his eyes refusing to follow orders. "I take it you are a brand new soul enrolling to be fed from monsters."
"That wouldn't be how I would phrase it." Giving into the temptation, he took a glance at the man he was conversing with… stoic frown and all. "And that wouldn't be a weapon I would use at my own leisure." Yes, while it seems like a harmless and even glowing object, commonly used as a novelty, one wouldn't fight weapon less, unless the object ameliorated to the standards of a 'fundamental sword.
His grin didn't startle him. "You would be deeply surprised."
"I highly doubt that." He picked up his scabbard which had not been touched on the ground, or so it seems at first instance. "And I take it no modifications were done to my sword?"
"Not at all. There's nothing of worth there anyways."
"And you know that how? Your defensive and offensive mechanism is a Yoyo."
"Yet I can still sleep you with years of experience, while you are still trying to find all the teeth I had punched out of your jaw."
He wasn't sure how to respond to that. Is this what they call 'fear tactics'? He wasn't being subdued from his words, nor his glowing light blue eyes… and his bald head. "Is that a threat?"
A shrug. "Nah, just... imagining." With a smirk, he shows. "You aren't easily intimidated."
"I don't c- I just have ice in my veins is all. Is this necessarily a terrible circumstance?"
"Quite the contrary. It's better for young rookies to now show fear in the face of any potential danger, unless you think that being underestimated is going to win you decisive battles."
"Of course a 'master' like you would know all about how to beat someone in a physical confrontation."
"Just say 'fight' okay? You don't need to use these fancy words."
"It's just my vocabulary that I possess. Also, it also off-puts my opponent for that unexpected strike." He considered smirking, but felt better to not do so.
"Sure, keep thinking that. And at least I can understand you. But don't get arrogant just because you are aware of this."
"I don't intend to."
"Perhaps. But I've been in many physical confrontations before. You wouldn't last half a minute, at the most." He started to get mildly agitated from this being's tone, reminded of why he despises social interaction. The conversation with Laiyla had ceased these thoughts, but they appear once more… how he despised it… even if the words he spoke had some degree of truth to it.
"And you would undoubtedly be cognizant of this from all the souls you've erased in the past, right?"
"…That wouldn't be how I would phrase it…" That hesitant reply… He couldn't help but assess the possibility… Does he feel a little shame and guilty of… murdering people justifiably (moderately)? "Just… don't think of yourself as high and mighty is all. All I'm trying to get across."
"And that required to wake me up to enforce this important point that I already take to heart, among many others?"
"…I didn't wake you up, you already were waking up!"
"Disputable."
"Whatever, just so you know."
"And you needed to tell me, because…?"
"I just wanted to see what kind of personality you are." A process of these words… before he felt like slapping himself. That was his trick? He gave way too much information away. He may be under watch from him, obviously someone of experience and perhaps of prestige here in a melancholy paradise. "You have an accent, while speaking elegantly and intelligently, somehow coming off as pretentious but also honest."
"I'm… sorry if you perceived it like that."
"Oh it's not your fault. It's just my first thoughts, is all." Another shrug. "It doesn't really matter anyways. But not being overly enthusiastic about wanting to fight, and appearing to think before acting, it a very good trait that I admire." Ending with a smile, he stretched his arms and yawned. "Also, it's sort of a part of my job to give you lessons to keep for the future."
"Job? You… you're a veteran, aren't you?" It was as if he didn't completely think things through, or if his acting lessons would be coming in more than he first perceived.
"Not yet, just very skilful and talented. But I'm stepping in for the week, Xiaoxiao is currently taking his yearly holiday."
"During spring… I can't disagree with his choice."
"Yeah it's nice out there… oh wait, I never told you my name. How rude of me. Name's Yoyo."
He froze for a second, looking at his hand reaching out for a shake. "You… were named after your weapon? An object?"
He waved it off. "Yeah, so? It's not important, it's just a name… you gonna grasp my hand?"
"Of course." Why wouldn't he? It'd be incredibly moronic of himself… not to mention, disrespectful. And, oh boy, respect is very high on everyone's priority list. Key rule number one: Don't anger important figures in the world. He presumed he was more powerful than his appearance, and decided not to ever dare to take the risk. "Name's Theodore. And I have to ask… why a Yoyo, of all the weapons in the world?"
"It just works for my style, you see. It's been the most proficient in all the battles I've been involved in."
"Did you get it because it was the cheapest thing available?"
"Well…" He burst out in laughter, to an unamused frown. "I didn't exactly have the funds available to purchase something better." His laughter died immediately.
"Seriously?" To a nod, he blinked. The possibility of him lying was engrained in his mind, but he went for the other path, receiving the implications. But then again… Hook…"Was… that why you signed up for this?"
"One of them, yeah."
"Oh…" Line…
"Hey, don't worry about me. I'm fine now." Sinker. To a heart-warming smile, no less. "And swords just aren't my thing, anyways. You've got a bunch of hard work ahead of you, if you want to prosper."
"Yeah… I've been informed." To a deep breath, he glanced at his worthy item once more. "Do you… mind if I have a look at that?"
"You are really fascinated by this. It's just a Yoyo."
"I'm fascinated by a large numerical value of things."
"…Right. Sure, here." Gently grabbing the pain-inducing (if used a certain way) toy, he held it up to eye level. Even knocking on the disc. Metal. It was hard, all right. It was a certain type of metal, induced with plasma that can penetrate skin and even sturdy bone, at only a high degree of force… it appears it needs to charge, otherwise the plasma within the object becomes completely useless. A battery of power. How intriguing. "You certainly hit the jack-pot…" He couldn't help but admire the work gone into such an astonishment. Wait… he inferred that he was indeed poor, but somehow rich enough to earn this…
He kept that in mind for hereafter.
"Huh. Colour me surprised and impressed." He gave it back. It's certainly powerful all right."
"Yeah, I can hold my own, all right… once I can still use it." He was referring to the limited time of use allowed for the item.
"And… after it's been drained?" Only receiving a modest disturbed look satisfied a response.
"Essentially a sitting duck…" He nodded. Clearly understand his predicament… being so over-reliant on a single tool which comes to his aid that saves his life… having lack of powers from his own hands… too close to home…
There's a reason he values the power of knowledge so highly. "I understand… but you're still in the flesh here."
"Yeah… At least I'm not weak enough that you are OP."
OP. OP… He never quite grasped the mastery of slang. Particularly the Colloquial Language of this culture, and the only way it was ever used in conversations, made him perceive everyone has lazy and unintelligent. A leading theory of his could be they don't want to waste breath, but he never believed anyone wasting energy of breath was a primary issue. That was false, it had to be.
"Was that a… Are you calling me weak?" Laughter met his raised eyebrow.
"No, of course not! Just making light of the situation, is all. I love joking around, anyways." Ending his sentence with snickering, he couldn't help but gaze at him a second time. An experienced fighter, who looks tough with a seemingly innocent weapon in a Yoyo, has glowing blue eyes… and is cracking jokes with a nobody (although the possibility of him being the subject to someone laughing a joke whenever he was in the room was slim to nothing of realistic expectations). Had he… been going along with the joke? He had a sense of humour, a very black and dry one at that, but it didn't mean he understood everyone else's… he knew of the violent immaturity everybody he had ever encountered before had shown, with few exceptions. But those consisting in the category of an 'exception' weren't at the very least fighters, for example Laiyla. She failed at being a fighter at one point in time, before settling for something resembling a desk job. He wondered what his sense of humour resembled… non-existent, perhaps. But he wasn't selfish to deny the chance of someone experiencing happiness out of something which didn't harm him in any form… It was such a mystery to such a sharp mind. He felt that was somewhat ironic, but he didn't quite grasp the concept of irony as well, so he just assumed it was ironic.
"While you're having the time of your life there, o stronger one," Only a grin from this response. "Out of sheer curiosity, where are you from?"
=-=-=-N-=-=-=
AN: And so his new journey begins.