A/N: Hello! I'm baaack! Today's update is brought to you by . . . my update to my website! It's because every one or two chapters of this, I'm going to update something else. Anyway, here are the review responses!
&&&
EchoKazul -- Yes, he is just as clumsy as I, making at least as many mistakes. Anyway, I'm glad you found it creepy (that's what I was going for)! Anyway, the Tomegathericon . . . it might be and it might be not! You'll have to wait and see!
Guy: That's rather mean . . .
Yoshimi: *places hand on his shoulder* It's just a thing authors do. You'll get used to it as you get to know your place as a muse better.
Guy: What is a muse, anyway?
Yoshimi: -_-; We need to work on you.
MercuryAdept -- Most of my chapters will be long, although that was a rather long one. Then again, I didn't want to split the chapter up, since it all fit so nicely together in little chunks.
Alfred: *with feather duster in hand* Like this giant piece of mold I found under your bed. *holds up Giant Disgusting Thing* How long has it been since you've cleaned in there?
Yoshimi: It's marked here on my calendar! See! The Ides of May!
Alfred: So, since the Roman Occupation?
Yoshimi: Er, I suppose so . . .
Vyctori -- Uh, oh . . . Vyctori's on the warpath, it appears, and she's bringing Menardi with her! *to Alfred and Guy* Secure the premises!
Alfred: *holds up can of paint* But I just repainted the door! If I secure it now, it will smear!
Yoshimi: The one problem with having a muse obsessed with housework. . . . Anyway! I dislike flat villains. They make rotten paperweights. Now, Alex would make a great paperweight or doorstop because he's so nice and round and fleshed out! I'm sure that Alex would be thrilled to hear me say that! ^^; Ah, yes . . . good ol' plot purposes. Sort of like the stuff in Rant #1 in your Livejournal. Well, sometimes it's not always good to act on one's instincts. After all, if all of my instincts proved to be true, I'd be dead several times over. . . . And yes, of course I did well with the joke! It wouldn't be me if it wasn't silly! ^_^ Constructive criticism? *gets down on knees* YES! IT'S HERE! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM! THANK YOU! *cheers*
Yugi the Other White Meat -- . . . Interesting title. You're . . . another reviewer? *tears of joy* I'm so happy! *melts into a small blob*
Alfred: *comes by with mop* Ugh . . . where did this come from? *begins mopping up the Yoshimi Puddle of Joy*
Puddle of Joy: . . . blurb.
Alfred: AUGH! It's . . . ALIVE! *flees*
Yoshimi: *reforms* And, if that hasn't completely deterred you from reading further, thanks for reading and reviewing! Of course I'll treat Guy well! He's one of my favourites, maybe even my favourite! ^_^
&&&
YAY! ANOTHER REVIEWER! ^_^ Happy, happy . . .
Alfred: *comes in armed with the Mop of Destiny (see the webcomic Dub This! for details on where this came from)* I shall defeat you, evil Blob! *waves it around* Where'd it go?
Yoshimi: ???
Alfred: I will not give up! I will defeat you, Blob! *noble pose*
Yoshimi: Okaaaaay. . . .
***
Inspirations:
Rurouni Kenshin: For the battle scene and for the Japanese outfit.
InuYasha: For the battle scene (InuYasha and Ruruouni Kenshin will provide most of my knowledge of fights . . . not exactly the best credentials).
Glossary:
Cohort: A division in the Tolbi army.
Gomen nasai: I'm very sorry (Japanese)
Karma: fate in Indian beliefs
Tolbi Imperial Army: An elite army that conquers new land for the Tolbi Empire. Also is used to help the Tolbi Border Sentries (a group of soldiers that guard the borders from key fortresses) and the Pax Tolbi Regulators (a group of soldiers that keep the law and ensure swift defeat of rebellion).
***
Chapter 3: Swordsman Who Walks The Trail Of Blood
If anyone had been at the outskirts of Dekha that evening, they might have seen a strange pair of travellers.
The boy, tapping the road in front of him with his staff, was in a brown robe that was much lighter than his nearly black hair. His hazel eyes were open, but they didn't react to anything, which was rather spooky at first. He carried a nearly empty bag over his shoulder, with the last of the five days of food supplies that had filled the majority of the sack.
The other one, though, drew the most attention. The girl may have been dressed in an ordinary green dress and sari, but she carried a sword openly, defying the woman's caste. The sword was unusual, too. It was unlike the swords carried by the Indran warriors. She appeared prepared for battle, anyway. Her black hair was tied back, as not to get in her way, and her bright green eyes flitted over the landscape, watching for any sign of danger. She, too, carried a pack, but hers was mostly full. Her spare hand was on the aforementioned sword.
Finally, after three days through the mountain and one climbing the Dekhan Plateau, they had reached their first stop on their journey.
"Huzzah!" Camellia exclaimed. "A soft bed for tonight and a warm fire."
Simon nodded, not saying anything as he concentrated on not tripping.
She looked ahead. Dekha was a medium sized town. To someone growing up in such a small village, it seemed enormous. Due to a combination of good trade and better farmland, it had grown to where it was today. Besides the economic benefits, it was also famous for its extensive temple to Fate.
As they passed through its streets, there were styles from both Indra and Angara due to the contact between the two continents, although the largest impact of Angara was the worship of Fate, whose worshippers were prevalent throughout the world. Camellia guided her friend through the streets to a promising looking inn, The Travelling Merchant.
"Let me see," Camellia said, looking at the sign. "It's only twelve coins! Hey, Simon, hand me twelve coins."
Simon took his entire money bag and tossed it over.
Camellia stared at the pitiful sack. "We only have twelve coins?" she asked, incredulous.
"Wait. There's an extra coin in there. Take it out before you pay for the room."
Camellia stared at Simon. Almost as if he had sensed the movement, he shrugged.
"I'm an apprentice, so I don't get very much money," he answered the silent question. "Then we managed to avoid all the monsters in the mountains. So, it's either food for the journey or a room. Your choice."
Camellia frowned, then grinned. "The temple of Fate, I'm sure, will have rooms for some poor travellers! Let's get a move on!" She tossed the bag at Simon.
He caught it, but he nearly lost his balance. After several near falls, he regained his balance with a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Camellia then raced past him and unbalanced him. He dropped onto the road.
***
They reached the huge temple after buying more supplies. Camellia looked around at the huge stone walls surrounding the temple. There was little on the outside to decorate the grim building, aside from the purple banner that rustled over the huge double doors.
Simon had the newly filled food sack, although it wasn't as full as when they had left. He was still a little dusty from his fall, but he knocked politely at the door with his staff anyway. He stepped back and stood there.
They waited for a while. Camellia's expression grew sourer and sourer as she waited. Finally, with a cry of annoyance, she grabbed the giant doorknocker with both hands and slammed it against the door with a resounding crash.
Within moments, a brown-bearded priest answered the door, rubbing his ears.
"Do you want to come in?" he asked, a little hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Maybe," Camellia replied.
Simon simply placed a hand to his face and sighed.
Camellia smiled. "We were wondering if we could stay the night," she said.
The priest snorted, turned, and walked away.
Camellia stared for a moment. "Did I say something wrong?" she asked the air.
The priest looked over his shoulder. "Come in. It's not like I can stop you." He shook his head and continued inside.
Camellia grinned. "Well, that takes care of that!" she said brightly. "Let's go find ourselves a room. C'mon, Simon. You're being rude." She started forward.
Simon looked surprised. "I'm being rude?"
Getting no answer, he followed the sound of her footsteps.
Camellia cast a critical eye on the stone hallway. All there was to decorate the walls was a few scattered blue banners with a strange symbol decorating them. She stopped once to examine it, but it seemed to almost shift as she tried to pin it down. Finally, she stopped looking at them. They were giving her a headache.
"Marlel, greetings!" a deep, friendly voice called from within. A large bushy brown head peered around the corner of the end of the hallway. "Who have you brought with you? Visitors? You, of all people, having visitors?"
The priest, apparently Marlel, turned to open a door on one side. Turning his head to view the man, he replied icily, "As you may recall, I never have visitors." He turned back to the door. "They can be yours. I take my leave." He walked out and shut the door lightly behind himself.
The man down the hallway just stepped away from the doorframe. "Don't let him bother you," he said cheerfully. "He's always like that. Come here."
The two children walked to the end of the hallway. Through the doorway, sunlight glittered through the trees of a courtyard. In the courtyard, several small wooden houses surrounded a larger wooden building.
Turning, they saw the man from the hallway. He wore the sky blue robes and medium light purple of a member of the priesthood. A smile was on his face and in his blue eyes. He was very tall and rather broad. His ancestry appeared to be mainly Angaran, much like Marlel. His nose was especially predominant.
"Welcome to the temple!" he called with a huge smile. "My name is Hal. What brings you here?"
Simon bowed his head respectfully. "We are travellers, and seek hospitality at your temple."
Hal continued to grin. "Travellers, eh? I'm sort of surprised Marlel didn't talk to you. Used to be a great traveller in his youth. You can stay at my place for the night. Let's get you settled in." He grabbed Simon's bag. "Here. Let me help with that."
He tossed it over his shoulder. Unfortunately, he didn't notice Simon still holding onto it by the string. Simon dangled for a moment, a look of shock on his face, but soon dropped to the ground.
Hal didn't even notice. "The place is nothing much, but it'll do," he commented. "I'm sure it will be better than camping outside. Let me take the other bag, too."
Camellia knew well enough to let go of the string as he took the bag. "So, do you live in one of the small buildings?" she asked.
"Sure do, little lady," he looked down. "Or, should I say, little warrior? Your sword seems unusual. Haven't seen the likes of that one for a dog's year. Anyway, here's my house."
The house was quite small, but, Camellia supposed, priests were expected to get along with very little. Its brown walls were spruced up with some of those headache-inducing blue banners. She shook her head as the symbols shifted ever so slightly under her gaze.
"Maura, we have visitors!" Hal called inside.
Camellia blinked in surprise. "I thought that priests weren't allowed to marry . . ." she started.
Hal laughed. "Well, bless my soul, I completely forgot to tell you about Maura! No, I'm Maura's guardian. She isn't even old enough to be married, and I, well," he said with a laugh. "I've seen better days."
"So, you're over the hill," Camellia summed up.
This caught Hal off balance for a moment, but he replied, "Well, yes, but I prefer my way of saying it." He clapped her on the shoulder (nearly knocking her down in the process) and walked inside.
As Camellia followed him inside, she noticed a girl who had to be Maura. She was the most unassuming girl Camellia had ever seen. Her brown hair, reaching barely past her shoulders, hung limply. Her face was so pale that her freckles stood out like spots of paint or something. She was rather thin, but the only way to accurately describe her figure was rectangular. She was also short, nearly a head shorter than Simon, who wasn't any giant himself. She was wearing a small version of the priest robes. Her grey eyes looked at them warily.
"These travellers are staying the night here," Hal told the girl. "One of them looks even around your age." He placed a hand on Simon's head and ruffled his hair. "You look about thirteen, don't you think?"
"Fourteen, sir," Simon corrected.
"Close enough." Completely unperturbed, he continued, "So, could you get some extra sheets for the guest room?"
Maura nodded, coughed, and walked further inside.
"The guest room?" Camellia asked.
"You're in it." Hal gestured to the room, empty of anything except a chest, a table, and some chairs. "The only other two rooms are my room and Maura's room. And you," he said, smiling and pointing at Simon, "are not bunking with Maura."
Cue blush.
Hal laughed. "I'm only joking with you. Of course, I'm still serious about that last thing!"
"Is she your daughter?" Camellia asked.
"Not technically," Hal replied, suddenly serious. "She's always been sickly, even as a baby. Her parents didn't want to bother raising her, so they abandoned her. Luckily, I was able to find her. I used to survive day-to-day with any odd jobs I could, but in order to help support her, I took the steadier occupation of a priest. It suits me fine, too."
Camellia looked around the "guest room." After a moment, she sat on the table and commented, "I get the top bunk."
Hal roared with laughter, the seriousness evaporating. "Let me give you a tour of the temple. Maura, would you like to come?" he asked as Maura came in with the bundle of blankets.
She nodded, and he picked her up and placed her on his shoulder. "Race you to the main temple building!" he called to the travellers, running. Maura laughed as Hal propelled himself expertly.
Camellia smiled broadly and launched herself after them. They raced onward, Hal's giant steps eating up the ground as fast as Camellia's practiced run.
"Wait!" Simon called, tapping the ground in front of himself with his staff. "Oh dear." He walked after them.
***
Camellia dived around the priest to place her hand on the door of the temple at the same moment and Hal was able to.
"It appears this has been a tie!" Hal remarked. He glanced back, and commented, "Your friend doesn't appear to be making very good time."
"Well, er, he's blind," Camellia said uncomfortably.
"Ah," Hal said, setting Maura down. "We'll just wait for him, then."
Maura watched Simon for a moment, and then ran over. "Let me help!" she told Simon.
She grabbed his hand and pulled as she ran back. Simon smiled and ran too, although he had to work hard to keep up. They arrived, although not as fast as the other two had.
"That's my girl!" Hal said, smiling. "The dust cloud from your running was a sight to see!"
Camellia smiled but said nothing, knowing that there hadn't been any dust cloud.
Maura began to say something, but she then started coughing.
Hal frowned in concern. "Are you all right? Did you overexert yourself?"
She swallowed her coughing fit. "I'm fine, Daddy," she said hoarsely, coughing once. "You worry too much."
Hal smiled again. "You're a brave one," he remarked quietly.
He straightened and opened the wooden door. The inside was disappointingly simple. A normal shrine dedicated to Fate and a priest who was wandering around.
"Is this . . . it?" Camellia asked.
Hal laughed. "No, of course not! This is just the outer part. We don't need too much for what most people are looking for. In here," he continued, opening a door, "is something much more interesting."
"Mm," a voice commented. "But you always mix the things up."
Camellia turned and saw the priest from earlier. He was smiling slightly.
"Marlel! Just who I wanted to see!" Hal called.
"The feeling is not completely mutual," Marlel replied quietly, still with the enigmatic smile.
Hal didn't seem to notice the last comment, entering and beckoning for the others to follow. Maura helped Simon into the room behind Camellia and Marlel brought up the rear.
Hal stood in front of three stone cubes, their sides a brickwork of grey stones, their tops covered in blue cloth. "Here is where there are real wonders," he exclaimed. He pointed at the first table. On top of it was a sword, finer than any sword Camellia had ever seen. "This one's called Phaeton's Blade. Can't for the life of me remember why."
Marlel smiled faintly. "It is a good thing I am here, then." He walked up and picked it up. "This sword was forged several hundred years ago. No one knows who first forged it, but someone, Phaeton, during the dark age gained it. Much of the story has been lost, but it is apparent that he used the magic of the sword . . ."
"Whoa, hold a moment!" Camellia exclaimed. "What's this about the magic of the sword?"
Marlel turned his back to them. "Weapons of high calibre are sometimes imbued with powers. Some unleash magical creatures, some raging fires, some crashing seas. These last only a moment, but they all increase the power of the attack."
Camellia looked at the ceiling. A sword with its own magic! Now that would be amazing, not to mention powerful!
Almost as if he had sensed her thoughts, he continued, "But such powers do not come without price. They require a special . . . something to unleash their might. It varies from person to person, sometimes weapon to weapon. If they lack in it, then their karma is the same as it was for Phaeton. Death." Marlel looked over his shoulder at the group. "He used it too often. One day, he attempted to unleash its spell. It consumed him completely." Looking forward again, he placed the sword back on the pedestal. "Because of that, his friends, scared by the display of power, donated it to the temple, in hopes that others wouldn't suffer the same fate."
Hal nodded. "It seems to have worked, hasn't it?" he commented. "The next treasure is a book . . . what does it do again, Marlel?"
Marlel sighed. "It's a good thing I decided to come help." He walked over and reached out towards the book.
Suddenly, Camellia noted a silver line flash across the doorway. She turned as the door dropped in two pieces, revealing a tall man who was sheathing his sword. His black hair, cropped short, fell over his ears a little. He was clean-shaven and slanted brown eyes peered out sharply under thin brows. He looked about in his twenties. He was dressed in some kind of foreign clothing. An open green shirt, tucked into the wide white pants, revealed strips of white bandage around his torso. He wore a sword at both sides, the same shape as Camellia's own.
The man bowed politely. "I apologise profusely for interrupting," he said in a warm voice. "But I must admit that I couldn't help but hear a certain name. Tell, would your name be Marlel Gregoire, once Clarus Lumen, Third Cohort of the Tolbi Imperial Legions, about, oh, about a decade past?"
Marlel's eyes narrowed. "How did you come by that information?" he asked coldly.
"That is not important. Is it true?" the man pressed, voice still pleasant.
"Yes," Marlel ground.
The man clapped his hands together. "Good!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Then I do not have to go searching for you."
"What is it that you want with me?" Marlel asked frostily.
The man didn't seem to hear. He was looking at his outfit. "Unfortunate, though. This outfit will be stained. Oh well. It can't be helped."
"What?" Camellia asked.
The man sighed. "It's just that this outfit will pick up the bloodstains when I kill him."
"What?" the entire group asked in horror.
The man shut his eyes and shook his head. "It's unfortunate, but necessary."
He began to walk towards Marlel, but Camellia stepped in between.
He looked down slightly at her. "Hm? Who are you?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Camellia replied angrily.
The man placed a hand to his forehead. "Of course! Where are my manners?" he berated himself. "We haven't been properly introduced! If I hadn't been so surprised, I would have remembered myself. Well, I'll start, but I can't give my actual name. That would be foolish. However, I've picked up a name. Shi Maido. I guess it comes from my reputation." He looked around at their faces, then placed the hand to his forehead again. "How thoughtless of me! You are not fluent speakers of Izumo's language. It means 'death every time.'"
Marlel frowned. "So, you are a serial killer."
Shi Maido nodded. "Something of the like. Four thousand, eight hundred, and sixty-seven people survived the Battle of Idijima. Since then, ten people died natural deaths. In the past several months, seventy ended their lives in violence, at the end of my blade. Now," he said, not so cheerful anymore. "You will be the seventy-first." He placed a hand on the sword on his left hip.
Camellia did the same, glaring at him.
Shi Maido frowned slightly. "I am afraid you are in my way," he said mildly.
"You aren't getting past me!" Camellia replied angrily.
"Very well," Shi Maido took his hand off the sword and used his left hand to draw the sword on his right. He tossed it to his right hand. He tapped the edge with his left. "Good. Here is my blunt sword. Now neither of us need get injured." He adjusted his feet and held the sword in an expert grip.
Camellia drew her sword quickly, its bright surface flashing.
Shi Maido's eyebrows raised, and for the first time looked surprised. "That blade . . . ."
Camellia attacked without warning. Suddenly, the entire sword glowed green. She slashed horizontally, face registering surprise.
Shi Maido's sword was sheared off at the hilt. Only a swift dodge saved him from death. He jumped backwards, smiling.
"Well, now," Shi Maido said, genuinely pleased. "That sword is of elven make."
"Elven?"
"Yes. During the last Golden Age, the race of elves existed. They disappeared during the Dark Age, but they left behind several artefacts. They created few swords, but the ones they created are beyond compare to the swords used by most. They used the Izumo sword design and a metal they alone knew how to forge. Not as strong as mithril, but nowhere near as rare. Most people referred to it as steel. Also, they placed spells in them, most like the one you just used." He nodded at it. "There are few in the world. What a coincidence that there should be two in this very room." He drew his left sword. It shone much brighter than the blunted iron sword he had used before. It had obviously been cared for well, judging from the sheen and sharpness of the edge. "Let us continue from where we left off."
He bowed. Camellia, feeling honour unnecessary against a murderer, attacked his bare neck. It a move so fast she was unable to follow it, he blocked it and slid it underneath. She could never have blocked it or even dodged it, but he twisted the sword only centimetres away from her flesh. He sidestepped the attack she sent after and brought his sword down upon hers even though the attack had left her entire side exposed. She realized that, despite his murderous intent towards Marlel, he didn't want to kill her. She took advantage of this in a move that left her entire right side defenceless to the blade that was snaking around, seeking her weapon, but allowed her to attack his back.
A sharp pain rammed into her side, sending her flying into the wall. As she rose, she heard Maura explaining to Simon that he had rammed his elbow into her side. She brought her sword up in a defensive position, readying for his next attack.
He brought his sword over his head. Not wondering why he would use such an amateur move, she dived, sword extended. He jumped over her blade and brought his hand down on her back, forcing her painfully to the floor. He didn't take advantage of her prone position, instead standing back, honourably waiting for her to rise.
She wondered briefly if she had once again challenged someone more skilled than her. She rose, taking her time, seeing how he was going to conduct this match in the manner of a duel between two nobles who had no ill will. She took up her stance again. He bowed, faster this time, and also prepared himself.
Her only chance was to try to unleash that spell she had. What was it that she had done? She struck, not producing any light but that which reflected off the blade when the wind stirred the curtains away from the window above them. He blocked and forced her back. She let him, knowing she would only lose her sword if she stood her ground. She struck again, and a small green glimmer raced up and down the blade. Shi Maido looked interested at this, but still blocked and backed her up with the same brisk efficiency. His eyes seemed to be everywhere at once, but still were nearly still.
There had been something when she had struck that time. If she concentrated on it . . . .
Something clicked in her mind. She struck out, her sword shining a bright green, lighting up the dim chamber. It hit the other's sword, drawing sparks. The sparks appeared red . . . .
She backed up a step. His sword was also glowing, a bright red. She had forgotten his sword was also an elven sword. He looked at her sadly and struck.
The blow jarred the sword from her hand and threw her backwards against the wall. Red glinted in her eyes as she felt her body crash against the wood again. She saw her sword sheathe skitter across the floor at the impact.
Looking up, she was just in time to see Shi Maido catch her sword in midair. She slumped against the wall, knowing that she was defeated.
Shi Maido kneeled down. "I hope you aren't seriously hurt."
She just snatched at her sword. He avoided her swing.
"If your pride has been hurt, then do not worry. I see talent in you. I have only trained longer," he explained. "Your talent is wasted without any training. If I meet a good swordspersonship teacher, I will let them know about you." He straightened. "Unfortunately, I have a less enjoyable task at the moment."
He brought his sword around and pointed it at Marlel.
"Gomen nasai," he murmured.
He was preparing the sword strike when a crash and a scream were heard outside.
***
Yoshimi: ^_^ Cliffhanger!
Alfred: *dusting* You're going to get killed if this keeps up.
Yoshimi: Well, if that happens, that happens! I think I'll just keep my mind off that with a little Rurouni Kenshin! *begins to watch anime*
Guy: *wanders in* What are you doing?
Yoshimi: Watching an anime.
Kenshin (on screen): Ryu-son-sen! *does fancy sword attack*
Guy: *jaw drops* WOW! How did he do that?
Kenshin (on screen): Ryu-tsui-sen! *another fancy sword attack*
Guy: *starry-eyed* I think I've found my hero!
Yoshimi: Ironic. A clumsy swordsman hero-worshipping another clumsy swordsman.
Alfred: Yes. Anyway, review, because Vyctori is threatening to send Menardi to do the review-threats! Right, Yoshimi? . . . Yoshimi?
Yoshimi: *hiding behind chair* I'm a good boy, don't kill me, I'm being good . . .