I grimaced. The sight was not pretty. The poor thing was sitting at his
computer, staring at his story, waiting for the review counter to go
up. He turned his head and his eyes bored into mine.
"I wasn't getting enough reviews... you, yes, you there. Please... please, relieve my misery... Please... Review... "
I took one look at his pitiful corpse, and I vowed to review every single written work I would come across thereafter. I beg of you, please keep this writer from meeting the same fate as the one above and review...
---
"Erk?"
"Yes?"
"What do you sense?"
The young mage looked at the ground, then at the sky. He closed his eyes, trying to hide any emotion he had about what he saw. After a couple seconds, he opened his mouth to speak. "People have passed here, about a day ago..."
"How do you know?"
Erk leveled his gaze, looking me straight in the eye.
"Smell the air, Mark."
It was a strange request, to be sure, but I took a sniff. The slight putrid smell of smoke, the fresh breeze... and... perfume?
"Priscilla was here," Erk said, grimly looking down. "That scent is hers..."
"I don't recognize it..." I said, taking another sniff. Clearer than ever, there was the slight scent of perfume.
"Even more," Erk continued, "The reason you don't... that perfume was tainted..."
"Tainted?"
"Tainted with blood."
---
Were more of our comrades dead? This question hung heavily in the air as we set up camp for the night. How many? How bad? How about loved ones - were they still with us?
There's no feeling to describe it... the dread, the fear, the fear of death. The fear of death claiming a loved one.
I turned in my covers, trying to sleep. Plagued by this fear, I waited for sleep's comforting embrace...
---
"Wil!"
"Rebecca! Where's Lyn? Mark? Sain?"
"Fighting on the west flank, dummy. Haven't you been listening to Lord Eliwood's briefing?"
Wil chuckled, shaking his head. "Do I ever pay attention to Eliwood?"
"Hey, Wil. Targets ahead of us. Let's roll."
"Gotcha."
The pair stood side to side and started unleashing volley after volley of arrows into the ranks of the enemy. Their arrows flew straight and true, striking their targets with deadly accuracy.
"Wil! To the right!"
Wil glanced over. It was trouble. A whole company of enemy horsemen.
"Rebecca... shall we take them on?"
---
I groggily opened my eyes, moaning slightly at the fact that I was awake. What woke me? I looked over my left shoulder.
"Rebecca..."
There she was, her arms wrapped around mine, sleeping soundly.
I just blinked a bit, trying to make sure that I was really seeing, and not dreaming. After a few blinks, she was still there. She was real.
Why?
Why me? What was I to her? A replacement? A dummy?
There were some times I wished I could tell what other people thought. This was one of those times.
It couldn't be true. She still lived and breathed for my friend. What was I to her? Wil? A replacement for him?
Why am I even thinking about this? If this will make us fight better...
---
"We will fight after the rest of our group engages."
"Gotcha."
Wil watched as Hector was the first one to blindly charge into the enemy ranks. Swinging his axe every which way, enemies flew, some without heads, some without limbs, but all without life. Soon thereafter, the rest of the group joined in the melee.
"Now!"
Wil took Rebecca's cue and notched his bow. He spotted his target and fired two shots in rapid succession. If the first one didn't kill him, the second one did. The enemy rider fell off his mount, two arrows in his neck.
Beside him, Rebecca notched an arrow and fired. Her shot weaved its way through dozens of bodies and struck an enemy cleric in the arm.
"Nice shot!" Wil said, watching the enemy cleric go down.
"Thanks. Watch our left flank!"
Wil didn't know how that rider got there, but he was going down. He notched an arrow and fired. The enemy rider raised his shield and deflected the shot.
"Oh... crap." Wil said, quite audibly. Rebecca scurried out of the way but Wil was not as fast.
"Wil!"
Wil could see the grin on his enemy's face, the sweat on his brow... his concentration as he stabbed with his lance.
It all turned into a sea of pain as the sharp point penetrated his skin, slicing flesh and cutting into bone. Wil looked down. There was a lance stuck into his ribs.
The enemy rider lifted Wil's body straight up, hoisting him aloft like a trophy. Then, with a mighty swing, he brought him down to the ground, breaking the spear's shaft.
Wil's vision blurred. He swallowed and tasted blood.
"Rebecca..."
He struggled to stand, half the bones in his body broken. Reaching his right hand out, he made a grab, trying to reach, reach for his love...
Pain rippled through Wil's body as a giant boot came down and crushed his hand. Half-crazy, blinded with pain, Wil took one last look at his tormentor, then saw him as an arrow split his skull...
"Re...becca... you did it..."
---
I... I couldn't do it. I wasn't ready. Things were happening so quickly... and yet, if I waited too long, all could be lost.
Damn, things were getting complicated.
Or not. There the answer was, plain as day. I was a tactician. I couldn't burden myself with a meaningless romance...
Meaningless?
I nearly slapped myself. Damn it, she was one of our best fighters, and if she went down in a spiral of emotional despair, then I would be to blame.
It was time for some very hard decision-making.
---
"Mark! Mark! Wake up!"
I glanced upwards, shielding my eyes from the morning glare.
"Good morning, Serra."
"Mark! Get up! We've got company."
"Who?"
"Erk and Rebecca saw some enemies coming this way."
"Gotcha. Let's go."
I threw my covers aside, and stood up. I rubbed my eyes and packed my bedding up. I grabbed a spare sword and walked out of the tent.
Rebecca and Serra were the ones with the sharpest eyes, and they were still tracking the movements of the enemy.
"They're... they're not coming here. They're going to the west..."
Lyn raised her head, trying to make out the faint outline of the moon, still slightly visible in the morning.
"Then we go west."
---
Chasing mounted warriors on foot is almost a pointless venture, but as the ground became rockier, we drew closer. It was evident that they were riding for something, for a purpose. They weren't just out on patrol.
What if they were after our friends?
This burning question made us push on ever harder. Onwards and onwards we pushed, following the mounted warriors.
Finally, we saw what they were going after.
---
"Damn..."
Lyn kneeled down, and examined the corpse lying at her feet. Numerous arrows littered the body, both front and back.
A touch of the hand revealed that the corpse was alive but a few minutes ago.
"Brother Lucius..."
Lucius?
Yes, it was he. The white robes and the blond hair...
"No!! Brother..."
Serra fell to her knees and flipped Lucius over, and then recoiled with fright. I dared one glance, and instantly turned away. His face was so mutilated, it was unrecognizable.
I looked at Serra, then at Lyn. One's eyes were filled with sorrow, and the other's was filled with rage.
"Whoever did this... will pay..."
Lyn collapsed, and embraced Serra. The rest of us gathered around and mourned the loss of our favorite monk.
Kent put his hand on Lyn's shoulder, trying to give her some knightly advice.
"Someone will pay, Lyn... steel yourself, and we'll fight for his memory."
Steel ourselves indeed. We would fight, and we would fight until the bloody end.
"I wasn't getting enough reviews... you, yes, you there. Please... please, relieve my misery... Please... Review... "
I took one look at his pitiful corpse, and I vowed to review every single written work I would come across thereafter. I beg of you, please keep this writer from meeting the same fate as the one above and review...
---
"Erk?"
"Yes?"
"What do you sense?"
The young mage looked at the ground, then at the sky. He closed his eyes, trying to hide any emotion he had about what he saw. After a couple seconds, he opened his mouth to speak. "People have passed here, about a day ago..."
"How do you know?"
Erk leveled his gaze, looking me straight in the eye.
"Smell the air, Mark."
It was a strange request, to be sure, but I took a sniff. The slight putrid smell of smoke, the fresh breeze... and... perfume?
"Priscilla was here," Erk said, grimly looking down. "That scent is hers..."
"I don't recognize it..." I said, taking another sniff. Clearer than ever, there was the slight scent of perfume.
"Even more," Erk continued, "The reason you don't... that perfume was tainted..."
"Tainted?"
"Tainted with blood."
---
Were more of our comrades dead? This question hung heavily in the air as we set up camp for the night. How many? How bad? How about loved ones - were they still with us?
There's no feeling to describe it... the dread, the fear, the fear of death. The fear of death claiming a loved one.
I turned in my covers, trying to sleep. Plagued by this fear, I waited for sleep's comforting embrace...
---
"Wil!"
"Rebecca! Where's Lyn? Mark? Sain?"
"Fighting on the west flank, dummy. Haven't you been listening to Lord Eliwood's briefing?"
Wil chuckled, shaking his head. "Do I ever pay attention to Eliwood?"
"Hey, Wil. Targets ahead of us. Let's roll."
"Gotcha."
The pair stood side to side and started unleashing volley after volley of arrows into the ranks of the enemy. Their arrows flew straight and true, striking their targets with deadly accuracy.
"Wil! To the right!"
Wil glanced over. It was trouble. A whole company of enemy horsemen.
"Rebecca... shall we take them on?"
---
I groggily opened my eyes, moaning slightly at the fact that I was awake. What woke me? I looked over my left shoulder.
"Rebecca..."
There she was, her arms wrapped around mine, sleeping soundly.
I just blinked a bit, trying to make sure that I was really seeing, and not dreaming. After a few blinks, she was still there. She was real.
Why?
Why me? What was I to her? A replacement? A dummy?
There were some times I wished I could tell what other people thought. This was one of those times.
It couldn't be true. She still lived and breathed for my friend. What was I to her? Wil? A replacement for him?
Why am I even thinking about this? If this will make us fight better...
---
"We will fight after the rest of our group engages."
"Gotcha."
Wil watched as Hector was the first one to blindly charge into the enemy ranks. Swinging his axe every which way, enemies flew, some without heads, some without limbs, but all without life. Soon thereafter, the rest of the group joined in the melee.
"Now!"
Wil took Rebecca's cue and notched his bow. He spotted his target and fired two shots in rapid succession. If the first one didn't kill him, the second one did. The enemy rider fell off his mount, two arrows in his neck.
Beside him, Rebecca notched an arrow and fired. Her shot weaved its way through dozens of bodies and struck an enemy cleric in the arm.
"Nice shot!" Wil said, watching the enemy cleric go down.
"Thanks. Watch our left flank!"
Wil didn't know how that rider got there, but he was going down. He notched an arrow and fired. The enemy rider raised his shield and deflected the shot.
"Oh... crap." Wil said, quite audibly. Rebecca scurried out of the way but Wil was not as fast.
"Wil!"
Wil could see the grin on his enemy's face, the sweat on his brow... his concentration as he stabbed with his lance.
It all turned into a sea of pain as the sharp point penetrated his skin, slicing flesh and cutting into bone. Wil looked down. There was a lance stuck into his ribs.
The enemy rider lifted Wil's body straight up, hoisting him aloft like a trophy. Then, with a mighty swing, he brought him down to the ground, breaking the spear's shaft.
Wil's vision blurred. He swallowed and tasted blood.
"Rebecca..."
He struggled to stand, half the bones in his body broken. Reaching his right hand out, he made a grab, trying to reach, reach for his love...
Pain rippled through Wil's body as a giant boot came down and crushed his hand. Half-crazy, blinded with pain, Wil took one last look at his tormentor, then saw him as an arrow split his skull...
"Re...becca... you did it..."
---
I... I couldn't do it. I wasn't ready. Things were happening so quickly... and yet, if I waited too long, all could be lost.
Damn, things were getting complicated.
Or not. There the answer was, plain as day. I was a tactician. I couldn't burden myself with a meaningless romance...
Meaningless?
I nearly slapped myself. Damn it, she was one of our best fighters, and if she went down in a spiral of emotional despair, then I would be to blame.
It was time for some very hard decision-making.
---
"Mark! Mark! Wake up!"
I glanced upwards, shielding my eyes from the morning glare.
"Good morning, Serra."
"Mark! Get up! We've got company."
"Who?"
"Erk and Rebecca saw some enemies coming this way."
"Gotcha. Let's go."
I threw my covers aside, and stood up. I rubbed my eyes and packed my bedding up. I grabbed a spare sword and walked out of the tent.
Rebecca and Serra were the ones with the sharpest eyes, and they were still tracking the movements of the enemy.
"They're... they're not coming here. They're going to the west..."
Lyn raised her head, trying to make out the faint outline of the moon, still slightly visible in the morning.
"Then we go west."
---
Chasing mounted warriors on foot is almost a pointless venture, but as the ground became rockier, we drew closer. It was evident that they were riding for something, for a purpose. They weren't just out on patrol.
What if they were after our friends?
This burning question made us push on ever harder. Onwards and onwards we pushed, following the mounted warriors.
Finally, we saw what they were going after.
---
"Damn..."
Lyn kneeled down, and examined the corpse lying at her feet. Numerous arrows littered the body, both front and back.
A touch of the hand revealed that the corpse was alive but a few minutes ago.
"Brother Lucius..."
Lucius?
Yes, it was he. The white robes and the blond hair...
"No!! Brother..."
Serra fell to her knees and flipped Lucius over, and then recoiled with fright. I dared one glance, and instantly turned away. His face was so mutilated, it was unrecognizable.
I looked at Serra, then at Lyn. One's eyes were filled with sorrow, and the other's was filled with rage.
"Whoever did this... will pay..."
Lyn collapsed, and embraced Serra. The rest of us gathered around and mourned the loss of our favorite monk.
Kent put his hand on Lyn's shoulder, trying to give her some knightly advice.
"Someone will pay, Lyn... steel yourself, and we'll fight for his memory."
Steel ourselves indeed. We would fight, and we would fight until the bloody end.