Chapter
1: Autumn Leaves
Night nearly turned into day as cadenced footsteps echoed along the poorly lit
alleyways of northern Prontera City. Guards of the castle waved their bright
burning torches on all corners they pass as they searched thoroughly in a most
anxious mood.
"Search for him, men! He was wounded in the left arm so he can be far
off," ordered one of the more heavily armored men among the search party.
Another man in heavy Pronteran cavalry armor arrived on the scene. He sported
long, elegantly braided hair similar to the hunter goblins of the western
woods. His face had a complexion darker
than most Pronterans. His red eyes, that of an angered vagabond wolf.
"Have you found him, lieutenant?" said the knight who appeared to be
a high official of the cavalry. Bracket
The leader of the search party replied, "Not yet Monsieur Crux. This man
really knows his trade."
The knight gave out a sneer and went away with his escorts.
You won't fool me this time, Ramus.
Meanwhile, four shadows were gathering along the dark, damp culverts beneath
the city streets.
"So, did you get what we went in for?" said one of the shadowy
figures.
"You have better not screwed this one up, Ramus!" jokingly added
another.
One of the shadows stepped forward and revealed himself beneath a sill where
moonlight passes through. A blue-haired thief with a triangular tattoo on
beneath his left eye appeared.
"Let's see, I have the Osafune-made dagger, the royal mask, and His
Majesty's fake beard taken directly from Tristam the Great himself. The last
one, I took as a little souvenir."
"His Majesty's fake beard? I didn't know he sported those."
Ramus looked awe-struck. "You don't say..."
A woman a few years older than the thief moved out of the darkness. "You
idiot! You're probably the most wanted man in Rune Midgard by now. The king
doesn't need fake beards because he already has a real one!!"
A rugged-looking archer lit a cigar from the far corner of the culvert.
"Chill out, Aina. And besides, that bland crop of hair didn't look good on
him anyway."
"And how is the fake arrow wound working, shave-inator?" said a
female acolyte who was apparently doing sidesorties with the sewer mice.
"Picture-perfect," replied Ramus in a lighter tone, " They
actually think I'm bleeding right now. Like I'd really take a hit from their
half-guessed shots? Hah! They're probably still combing the north for me."
Aina started walking in the same direction as the outgoing water. "Save
your stories for later. Right now we need to get out of town."
The four went silent again as they slid back to the shadows and treaded
silently across the narrow pathways. Above them, soldiers scurried back and
forth, still searching for the palace intruders.
After a few minutes of walking, the four finally reached the end of the
outgoing main pipe that channeled wastewater to the western fields. Everyone
peeked their heads out of the opening and filled their lungs to their heart's
content.
"Ah, fresh air." mumbled Ramus.
The four went outside and threw aside their capes. The clothes' ends dripped
with green slime. Moonlight hardly passed through the woody west-end of the
kingdom.
"I really hate that place. I'm half-dead already," said the archer.
"Drop all of your weapons and stay where you are!" shouted a familiar
voice from beyond the woods.
For a moment there, Ramus' heartbeat stopped. It was the voice that he could
never forget.
No. This can't be happening.
The moonlit woods around the culvert exit suddenly glowed with excitement as
countless Pronteran war archers with readied fire arrows revealed themselves.
Monsieur Croix, sporting a small yet intimidating personal crossbow, stepped
forward from the cover of the shrubs.
The group dropped their blades and bows and slowly raised their hands in
surrender. Dodging their way out would be nothing short of suicide.
"You are coming with me, Ramus", said the knight as he dragged Ramus
away from his weapon, loot and friends. "You have troubled me long enough.
You shall be executed tomorrow."
God damn you Croix!
Ramus gave a melancholic look at the three as he was slowly dragged away by
ironclad castle guards from his friends.
Monsieur Croix gave another snicker and started walking away.
"As for the three, I have no more need for extra baggage."
Walking away, Monsieur Croix said while exchanging looks of mocking with Ramus,
"Kill them."
"Nooo~ !", shouted Ramus as welling tears in his eyes gave way to the
force of his emotions.
The thief tried to break loose from his captors in a most aggressive fit. But
as much as he wanted to do something, he received two simultaneous blows from
the dull side of the guards' spears to his back and fell face first to the
ground.
Arrows whistled as they cut through the thick night wind. The three didn't even
give out as much as a yelp. Like autumn leaves, they one by one fell. In
silence and in grace, they fell. All of them gave Ramus a glimpse of farewell,
smiling, almost as if they were whispering to him "'till we meet
again."
