Thank you for the reviews. I'm glad you liked the story thus far and I
hope it continues to live up to your expectations.. This chapter would be
the second to the last. Please bear with me. ^_^ Disclaimer: Characters
depicted in the story aren't mine. They belong to Konami.
To Become a Knight
Acceptance has always been the hardest thing to do, especially when the matter that should be accepted is the death of a loved one. It takes time and a great deal of emotional and mental strength. But it shouldn't stop there. Know the pain, accept it, and then detach from the experience. One must continue to move on.
"It was war." Camus remembered Percival's mother tell him a few days ago, finally accepting the fate of her husband. "Anything was bound to happen."
Well, that takes care of everything. Camus thought as he strolled outside the village inn, strapping his sword on. Mornings have always been beautiful in Iksay. The windmills lazily turned due to the cool morning breeze. Roosters crowed as villagers stepped out of their houses one by one to start a new day. Some started milking their cows; others carried baskets to collect their produce in the fields.
To him, the provincial life has always been a sight to behold. He will miss it since he has already accomplished what he has come for in Iksay. It's about time he returned to Matilda. His duties await.
"Lord Camus." He turned and recognized the voice of Percival's mother, smiling as the older woman approached him. She was bringing a rather large basket full of vegetables, which, from the looks of it, she has trouble carrying.
"Good morning, madam." The Red Knight greeted, meeting her halfway and taking the basket from her. "I'll carry that for you." The woman nodded her thanks and led him to the hackney near the village entrance. He placed the basket beside a dozen more. "Selling them in a nearby town?"
"Aye." She answered. "I'm coming along with fellow vendors. We'll be away for a day or two."
"I see." Camus nodded. When the woman didn't make a move to go, Camus asked with a smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"W-Well, yes." There was a slight hesitation. "Actually, there is." She took a deep breath. "As you know, my son has the fiercest temper in the village. He'll end up fighting all the villagers even with the slightest provocation. He needs someone to look after him."
Uh-oh.
"I won't be around to do that because of work." The woman pleaded. "Could you please look after Percy while I'm away?"
Percy? He tried stifling a laugh. Ah, so that's what his mother calls him. It was a miracle he let her call him that. The Red Knight should be going back to Matilda but then again, this could prove interesting. "Worry not, Mrs. Fraulein. Percy won't be causing any trouble while I'm around."
* * *
The tiny bell hanging on the door tinkled as Camus and Percival entered a small shop, announcing that customers have arrived. Percival stared at the variety of weapons that lined the walls. There were swords of different sizes, axes, maces, war hammers, and even bows. This was the first time he saw the interior of the shop. The blacksmith didn't allow children inside for most of the equipment inside are dangerous.
The blacksmith stood up and welcomed them. "Har har har!" The short stout middle-aged man jovially roared. "If you want your weapons sharpened, you have come to the right place!"
Camus nodded and handed over his sword Uriah. Percival went from one weapon to another, fascination lighting up his eyes. His gaze settled on the biggest axe decorated on the wall. Could a human really wield such a colossal weapon? He'd like to meet someone with that strength one day.
Suddenly, he frowned when he felt that someone was watching him. He looked around and his gaze clashed with the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. Wait, hold that thought. It was just her glasses magnifying her eyes. When the girl realized that she's been caught staring, she quickly lowered her gaze and pretended to read a book.
Percival tore his gaze from the girl and continued scanning the weapons on the wall. The hairs on his back stood when he felt those disturbingly big blue eyes on him again. He glared back at the girl and caught her looking at him again before she raised the book to her face, breaking their eye contact. What the heck is the matter with her?
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Camus suddenly materialized behind Percival and gave him a nudge. "Go talk to her!"
"No way!" Percival replied angrily amidst the loud clanking of the hammer as it met steel. "Why should I do that?" He looked at the girl sitting on the other side of the room. The blacksmith's daughter, he remembered, has her head buried between the pages of an open book. An open, upturned book. What gives?
"Because she likes you, you dope." Camus answered not unkindly.
"How do you know that?"
"I just do. Now, go!"
"No!"
"You can't do it, can you?" Camus sighed, an exaggerated show of disappointment. He sadly shook his head.
Percival's hackles rose. "Can't do what?"
"Charm her."
"Now why would I want to do that?!"
"Wimp." Camus muttered under his breath, but made sure Percival heard him. "Can't even talk to a little girl. . ." Even before the knight could continue baiting him, Percival stomped toward where the girl was sitting. Camus watched with amusement.
All he could see was the crown of the girl's blonde head as he stopped in front of her. "Hey." Percival called. The girl flinched and shyly raised those big blue eyes to him. There was a deep flush on her cheeks. Percival frowned as he wondered why. Must be because it was stuffy in the room.
Camus waited in anticipation for what the boy would tell her.
"Why were you staring at me the moment we entered the shop?" Percival growled, slamming both his hands on the table before him. "It's rude, you know? Didn't your mother---" Camus was suddenly standing behind him, clamped a hand over the boy's mouth before he could finish, apologized to the girl, and dragged Percival away.
On their way out, Camus grabbed his sharpened sword, thanked, and paid the blacksmith.
"Har har har! Come back anyti-" The door closed before the blacksmith could finish.
"What were you thinking?" The Red Knight demanded, half annoyed, half amused as they stepped out of the shop. He really didn't know how to react. What the boy did was both appalling and entertaining. "The girl was about to cry!"
"She was being rude." Percival frowned as he mulled over what the knight said. She really was about to cry. Was it because of what he said? "And that man's 'Har har har' crap is annoying me." To his utmost surprise, Camus started to laugh. Hard.
"I can't believe you did that!" He leaned back on the wall, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. "You are absolutely clueless when it comes to girls, just like Miklotov is!"
"Hey." Percival called warningly. He doesn't like being laughed at. He was sure whoever that Miklotov person is suffers embarrassment every time he's with Camus. The Red Knight was just too passionate with trivial subjects and too outspoken for his own good.
"But I will not let that happen to you." Camus promised as he patted the boy's head. Inspiration struck as the cogwheels of his wicked mind turned. "You do not deserve such a sad fate. I will teach you the ways of women. What do you say?"
Percival's eye twitched as dread filled him.
* * *
To gain Percival's undivided attention on the subject Camus is about to teach him, the Red Knight should think of a good analogy. The answer came to him when he found the boy in the village stables, tending to his horse. He has always noticed Percival's keen interest in horses. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Camus walked toward the stables and watched Percival groom his horse, an I'm-a-genius smile pasted on his lips.
"You sure are the most magnificent creature I've ever seen." Percival ran his hand through the dark bay's mane. "Wish you were mine."
"Give a woman that kind of attention and she'll be putty in your hands." Camus chuckled behind him.
"What?"
"Never mind." The knight said waving a gloved hand. "I've come to continue our conversation a while ago."
"Whatever." Percival shrugged as he continued grooming the horse.
"A horse is essential to a warrior." Camus started as he leaned on the stable railings. Percival stopped, a dandy brush in hand, and turned, confusion marring his brows. "A knight, in my case, wouldn't be complete without his horse."
"O-kay." Percival said slowly, wondering what the knight was talking about now.
"Women and horses are very much alike. A man wouldn't be complete without his woman." Was he messing it up? Camus wondered as Percival continued frowning at him. He tried again. "I've seen how you've been taking care of my horse. Treating women in such a way shouldn't be too hard, eh?"
"So what you're saying here is that I should treat women like how I treat horses?"
There was a slight pause. "When it comes from you, it sounds disturbing." Camus chuckled. "But yes, that's basically it. You can use your love for horses and convey that emotion to women." Yes, that explanation was better. Camus beamed when he came up with a better rationalization. "Treat women like how you treat your mother."
"So I have to treat women like how I treat my mother. . . and horses." Percival deduced. He frowned. "Are you comparing my mother to a horse?"
"No!" Camus replied exasperated, running a hand through his hair. But when he saw the corner of Percival's lips lift into a crooked smile, he raised an eyebrow. "You're deliberately misunderstanding me."
"Would never dream of doing so." Camus could hear the smile in the boy's voice as he resumed grooming the horse. Underneath that seemingly angry expression, the boy was hiding natural wit and charisma. He has it in him after all! The knight took pity on the girls whose hearts he'll break in the future. That is, if the boy could keep up with him.
Camus smiled as he shook his head. "All right, Percy, this is the most important part of the lesson. Listen well."
"Don't call me that!"
The Red Knight ignored him. "Women are to be respected and loved. They have strengths that men don't have. They are there to complement with men and should be treated as equals. You should never ever toy with them. Or else I'll track you down and give you a good whack on the head!"
* * *
Camus' sword Uriah seemed to gleam right before Percival as he held it. Both sat at the tavern, Camus drinking a mug of ale while juice was served for Percival.
"It's a long-sword, Percy." Camus supplied. He received a dark glare from the boy and laughed. "Anyway, this kind of sword is what most knights use. It is more effective in tighter, closer mannered combats but utilizing this weapon requires more than just the typical hacking and slashing style. Using this sword isn't as simple as you think. Now isn't that interesting?"
It sure is. Percival thought as he ran a finger on the flat side of the blade. From the looks of the sword, the wielder should consider its length and it seems that he can utilize it both offensively and defensively. If the wielder sat mounted on a horse, will he be able to strike down an enemy who was only on-foot? It seemed so.
Percival half listened as Camus continued telling him the different types of swords. His dream of being a rancher is slowly going down the drain as a new goal materialized in his head. What if he became a knight instead? He could learn a lot about horses and weaponry like Camus. Becoming a Matilda Knight would be brilliant!
"---and that's how I became a powerful mage, destroyed a country, and transformed my apprentice into this sword."
"W-What?"
"You haven't been listening." Camus shook his head with a smile. "What's the matter? Classifications of swords boring you to death?"
"N-No, it's not that." The boy reddened with embarrassment. "It's just that---"
His head hung sideways, his lids drooping. Camus faked a loud snore as he pretended to nod off to sleep. "Huh? What? Sorry." He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Were you saying something?"
Before Percival could even form a reply, the innkeeper's daughter, who was about Percival's age, approached their table. The pretty brunette clutched her apron timidly as she stood beside Percival, a slight blush on her cheeks.
"Um. . . Hi, Percival." She greeted. "I-It's been a long time since we saw each other." The girl was obviously nervous over something, Percival thought. But her comment had him frowning.
"What are you talking about? We just saw each other last--- OW!" Percival yelped when he felt one of Camus' leather boots stomp hard on his soft-skinned one. Okay, okay, he got the message! "I-I mean, yeah, how have you been?" Percival tried to smile but was able to produce a wince instead.
"Fine. You?" She blushed even deeper.
"I'm good."
Then there was silence.
Camus waited in anticipation.
Silence.
Camus sweatdropped.
"W-Well, it's nice seeing you again." The dark haired girl finally said. She nodded toward Camus in acknowledgment and left. Percival heaved a sigh of relief and looked at Camus to continue their bantering.
"What's that idiotic smile on your face for?" Percival demanded, his hackles rising yet again.
"She's very pretty, isn't she?"
"I don't like girls."
"But they like you." Camus chuckled. "Although the why of it is so great a mystery, I need a detective to figure it out."
The challenge hung in the air and Percival promptly accepted. "I'll show you why." A smug smile formed on his lips. He loves challenges. And he never lost in any.
To Become a Knight
Acceptance has always been the hardest thing to do, especially when the matter that should be accepted is the death of a loved one. It takes time and a great deal of emotional and mental strength. But it shouldn't stop there. Know the pain, accept it, and then detach from the experience. One must continue to move on.
"It was war." Camus remembered Percival's mother tell him a few days ago, finally accepting the fate of her husband. "Anything was bound to happen."
Well, that takes care of everything. Camus thought as he strolled outside the village inn, strapping his sword on. Mornings have always been beautiful in Iksay. The windmills lazily turned due to the cool morning breeze. Roosters crowed as villagers stepped out of their houses one by one to start a new day. Some started milking their cows; others carried baskets to collect their produce in the fields.
To him, the provincial life has always been a sight to behold. He will miss it since he has already accomplished what he has come for in Iksay. It's about time he returned to Matilda. His duties await.
"Lord Camus." He turned and recognized the voice of Percival's mother, smiling as the older woman approached him. She was bringing a rather large basket full of vegetables, which, from the looks of it, she has trouble carrying.
"Good morning, madam." The Red Knight greeted, meeting her halfway and taking the basket from her. "I'll carry that for you." The woman nodded her thanks and led him to the hackney near the village entrance. He placed the basket beside a dozen more. "Selling them in a nearby town?"
"Aye." She answered. "I'm coming along with fellow vendors. We'll be away for a day or two."
"I see." Camus nodded. When the woman didn't make a move to go, Camus asked with a smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"W-Well, yes." There was a slight hesitation. "Actually, there is." She took a deep breath. "As you know, my son has the fiercest temper in the village. He'll end up fighting all the villagers even with the slightest provocation. He needs someone to look after him."
Uh-oh.
"I won't be around to do that because of work." The woman pleaded. "Could you please look after Percy while I'm away?"
Percy? He tried stifling a laugh. Ah, so that's what his mother calls him. It was a miracle he let her call him that. The Red Knight should be going back to Matilda but then again, this could prove interesting. "Worry not, Mrs. Fraulein. Percy won't be causing any trouble while I'm around."
* * *
The tiny bell hanging on the door tinkled as Camus and Percival entered a small shop, announcing that customers have arrived. Percival stared at the variety of weapons that lined the walls. There were swords of different sizes, axes, maces, war hammers, and even bows. This was the first time he saw the interior of the shop. The blacksmith didn't allow children inside for most of the equipment inside are dangerous.
The blacksmith stood up and welcomed them. "Har har har!" The short stout middle-aged man jovially roared. "If you want your weapons sharpened, you have come to the right place!"
Camus nodded and handed over his sword Uriah. Percival went from one weapon to another, fascination lighting up his eyes. His gaze settled on the biggest axe decorated on the wall. Could a human really wield such a colossal weapon? He'd like to meet someone with that strength one day.
Suddenly, he frowned when he felt that someone was watching him. He looked around and his gaze clashed with the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. Wait, hold that thought. It was just her glasses magnifying her eyes. When the girl realized that she's been caught staring, she quickly lowered her gaze and pretended to read a book.
Percival tore his gaze from the girl and continued scanning the weapons on the wall. The hairs on his back stood when he felt those disturbingly big blue eyes on him again. He glared back at the girl and caught her looking at him again before she raised the book to her face, breaking their eye contact. What the heck is the matter with her?
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Camus suddenly materialized behind Percival and gave him a nudge. "Go talk to her!"
"No way!" Percival replied angrily amidst the loud clanking of the hammer as it met steel. "Why should I do that?" He looked at the girl sitting on the other side of the room. The blacksmith's daughter, he remembered, has her head buried between the pages of an open book. An open, upturned book. What gives?
"Because she likes you, you dope." Camus answered not unkindly.
"How do you know that?"
"I just do. Now, go!"
"No!"
"You can't do it, can you?" Camus sighed, an exaggerated show of disappointment. He sadly shook his head.
Percival's hackles rose. "Can't do what?"
"Charm her."
"Now why would I want to do that?!"
"Wimp." Camus muttered under his breath, but made sure Percival heard him. "Can't even talk to a little girl. . ." Even before the knight could continue baiting him, Percival stomped toward where the girl was sitting. Camus watched with amusement.
All he could see was the crown of the girl's blonde head as he stopped in front of her. "Hey." Percival called. The girl flinched and shyly raised those big blue eyes to him. There was a deep flush on her cheeks. Percival frowned as he wondered why. Must be because it was stuffy in the room.
Camus waited in anticipation for what the boy would tell her.
"Why were you staring at me the moment we entered the shop?" Percival growled, slamming both his hands on the table before him. "It's rude, you know? Didn't your mother---" Camus was suddenly standing behind him, clamped a hand over the boy's mouth before he could finish, apologized to the girl, and dragged Percival away.
On their way out, Camus grabbed his sharpened sword, thanked, and paid the blacksmith.
"Har har har! Come back anyti-" The door closed before the blacksmith could finish.
"What were you thinking?" The Red Knight demanded, half annoyed, half amused as they stepped out of the shop. He really didn't know how to react. What the boy did was both appalling and entertaining. "The girl was about to cry!"
"She was being rude." Percival frowned as he mulled over what the knight said. She really was about to cry. Was it because of what he said? "And that man's 'Har har har' crap is annoying me." To his utmost surprise, Camus started to laugh. Hard.
"I can't believe you did that!" He leaned back on the wall, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. "You are absolutely clueless when it comes to girls, just like Miklotov is!"
"Hey." Percival called warningly. He doesn't like being laughed at. He was sure whoever that Miklotov person is suffers embarrassment every time he's with Camus. The Red Knight was just too passionate with trivial subjects and too outspoken for his own good.
"But I will not let that happen to you." Camus promised as he patted the boy's head. Inspiration struck as the cogwheels of his wicked mind turned. "You do not deserve such a sad fate. I will teach you the ways of women. What do you say?"
Percival's eye twitched as dread filled him.
* * *
To gain Percival's undivided attention on the subject Camus is about to teach him, the Red Knight should think of a good analogy. The answer came to him when he found the boy in the village stables, tending to his horse. He has always noticed Percival's keen interest in horses. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Camus walked toward the stables and watched Percival groom his horse, an I'm-a-genius smile pasted on his lips.
"You sure are the most magnificent creature I've ever seen." Percival ran his hand through the dark bay's mane. "Wish you were mine."
"Give a woman that kind of attention and she'll be putty in your hands." Camus chuckled behind him.
"What?"
"Never mind." The knight said waving a gloved hand. "I've come to continue our conversation a while ago."
"Whatever." Percival shrugged as he continued grooming the horse.
"A horse is essential to a warrior." Camus started as he leaned on the stable railings. Percival stopped, a dandy brush in hand, and turned, confusion marring his brows. "A knight, in my case, wouldn't be complete without his horse."
"O-kay." Percival said slowly, wondering what the knight was talking about now.
"Women and horses are very much alike. A man wouldn't be complete without his woman." Was he messing it up? Camus wondered as Percival continued frowning at him. He tried again. "I've seen how you've been taking care of my horse. Treating women in such a way shouldn't be too hard, eh?"
"So what you're saying here is that I should treat women like how I treat horses?"
There was a slight pause. "When it comes from you, it sounds disturbing." Camus chuckled. "But yes, that's basically it. You can use your love for horses and convey that emotion to women." Yes, that explanation was better. Camus beamed when he came up with a better rationalization. "Treat women like how you treat your mother."
"So I have to treat women like how I treat my mother. . . and horses." Percival deduced. He frowned. "Are you comparing my mother to a horse?"
"No!" Camus replied exasperated, running a hand through his hair. But when he saw the corner of Percival's lips lift into a crooked smile, he raised an eyebrow. "You're deliberately misunderstanding me."
"Would never dream of doing so." Camus could hear the smile in the boy's voice as he resumed grooming the horse. Underneath that seemingly angry expression, the boy was hiding natural wit and charisma. He has it in him after all! The knight took pity on the girls whose hearts he'll break in the future. That is, if the boy could keep up with him.
Camus smiled as he shook his head. "All right, Percy, this is the most important part of the lesson. Listen well."
"Don't call me that!"
The Red Knight ignored him. "Women are to be respected and loved. They have strengths that men don't have. They are there to complement with men and should be treated as equals. You should never ever toy with them. Or else I'll track you down and give you a good whack on the head!"
* * *
Camus' sword Uriah seemed to gleam right before Percival as he held it. Both sat at the tavern, Camus drinking a mug of ale while juice was served for Percival.
"It's a long-sword, Percy." Camus supplied. He received a dark glare from the boy and laughed. "Anyway, this kind of sword is what most knights use. It is more effective in tighter, closer mannered combats but utilizing this weapon requires more than just the typical hacking and slashing style. Using this sword isn't as simple as you think. Now isn't that interesting?"
It sure is. Percival thought as he ran a finger on the flat side of the blade. From the looks of the sword, the wielder should consider its length and it seems that he can utilize it both offensively and defensively. If the wielder sat mounted on a horse, will he be able to strike down an enemy who was only on-foot? It seemed so.
Percival half listened as Camus continued telling him the different types of swords. His dream of being a rancher is slowly going down the drain as a new goal materialized in his head. What if he became a knight instead? He could learn a lot about horses and weaponry like Camus. Becoming a Matilda Knight would be brilliant!
"---and that's how I became a powerful mage, destroyed a country, and transformed my apprentice into this sword."
"W-What?"
"You haven't been listening." Camus shook his head with a smile. "What's the matter? Classifications of swords boring you to death?"
"N-No, it's not that." The boy reddened with embarrassment. "It's just that---"
His head hung sideways, his lids drooping. Camus faked a loud snore as he pretended to nod off to sleep. "Huh? What? Sorry." He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Were you saying something?"
Before Percival could even form a reply, the innkeeper's daughter, who was about Percival's age, approached their table. The pretty brunette clutched her apron timidly as she stood beside Percival, a slight blush on her cheeks.
"Um. . . Hi, Percival." She greeted. "I-It's been a long time since we saw each other." The girl was obviously nervous over something, Percival thought. But her comment had him frowning.
"What are you talking about? We just saw each other last--- OW!" Percival yelped when he felt one of Camus' leather boots stomp hard on his soft-skinned one. Okay, okay, he got the message! "I-I mean, yeah, how have you been?" Percival tried to smile but was able to produce a wince instead.
"Fine. You?" She blushed even deeper.
"I'm good."
Then there was silence.
Camus waited in anticipation.
Silence.
Camus sweatdropped.
"W-Well, it's nice seeing you again." The dark haired girl finally said. She nodded toward Camus in acknowledgment and left. Percival heaved a sigh of relief and looked at Camus to continue their bantering.
"What's that idiotic smile on your face for?" Percival demanded, his hackles rising yet again.
"She's very pretty, isn't she?"
"I don't like girls."
"But they like you." Camus chuckled. "Although the why of it is so great a mystery, I need a detective to figure it out."
The challenge hung in the air and Percival promptly accepted. "I'll show you why." A smug smile formed on his lips. He loves challenges. And he never lost in any.